{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3052/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3052","id":"gutenberg_3052","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3052","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Classical literature","Essays","Ethics","Homer","Philosophy"],"text":"Produced by John Hamm, Barb Grow, Bill Burn, Chris Hall\nand Chris Brennen\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nESSAYS AND MISCELLANIES\n\nThe Complete Works Volume 3\n\n\nBy Plutarch\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n\nPHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS\n\n  That It Is Not Possible To Live Pleasurably According To The\n  Doctrine Of Epicurus\n\n  That A Philosopher Ought Chiefly To Converse With Great Men\n\n  Sentiments Concerning Nature, With Which Philosophers Were\n  Delighted\n\n  Abstract Of A Discourse Showing That The Stoics Speak Greater\n  Improbabilities Than The Poets\n\n  Symposiacs\n\n  Common Conceptions Against The Stoics\n\n  Contradictions Of The Stoics\n\n  The Eating Of Flesh\n\n  Concerning Fate\n\n  Against Colotes, The Disciple And Favorite Of Epicurus\n\n  Platonic Questions\n\n\n\nLITERARY ESSAYS\n\n   The Life And Poetry Of Homer\n\n   The Banquet Of The Seven Wise Men\n\n   How A Young Man Ought To Hear Poems\n\n   Abstract Of A Comparison Between Aristophanes And Menander\n\n   The Malice Of Herodotus\n\n\n\n\nPHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS\n\n\nTHAT IT IS NOT POSSIBLE TO LIVE PLEASURABLY ACCORDING TO THE DOCTRINE OF\nEPICURUS.\n\nPLUTARCH, ZEUXIPPUS, THEON, ARISTODEMUS.\n\nEpicurus's great confidant and familiar, Colotes, set forth a book with\nthis title to it, that according to the tenets of the other philosophers\nit is impossible to live. Now what occurred to me then to say against\nhim, in the defence of those philosophers, hath been already put into\nwriting by me. But since upon breaking up of our lecture several things\nhave happened to be spoken afterwards in the walks in further opposition\nto his party, I thought it not amiss to recollect them also, if for\nno other reason, yet for this one, that those who will needs be\ncontradicting other men may see that they ought not to run cursorily\nover the discourses and writings of those they would disprove, nor by\ntearing out one word here and another there, or by falling foul upon\nparticular passages without the books, to impose upon the ignorant and\nunlearned.\n\nNow as we were leaving the school to take a walk (as our manner is) in\nthe gymnasium, Zeuxippus began to us: In my opinion, said he, the debate\nwas managed on our side with more softness and less freedom than was\nfitting. I am sure, Heraclides went away disgusted with us, for handling\nEpicurus and Aletrodorus more roughly than they deserved. Yet you\nmay remember, replied Theon, how you told them that Colotes himself,\ncompared with the rhetoric of those two gentlemen, would appear the\ncomplaisantest man alive; for when they have raked together the\nlewdest terms of ignominy the tongue of man ever used, as buffooneries,\ntrollings, arrogancies, whorings, assassinations, whining counterfeits,\nblack-guards, and blockheads, they faintly throw them in the faces of\nAristotle, Socrates, Pythagoras, Protagoras, Theophrastus, Heraclides,\nHipparchus, and which not, even of the best and most celebrated\nauthorities. So that, should they pass for very knowing men upon all\nother accounts, yet their very calumnies and reviling language would\nbespeak them at the greatest distance from philosophy imaginable. For\nemulation can never enter that godlike consort, nor such fretfulness\nas wants resolution to conceal its own resentments. Aristodemus then\nsubjoined: Heraclides, you know, is a great philologist; and that may\nbe the reason why he made Epicurus those amends for the poetic din (so,\nthat party style poetry) and for the fooleries of Homer; or else, it may\nbe, it was because Metrodorus had libelled that poet in so many books.\nBut let us let these gentlemen pass at present, Zeuxippus, and rather\nreturn to what was charged upon the philosophers in the beginning of our\ndiscourse, that it is impossible to live according to their tenets. And\nI see not why we two may not despatch this affair betwixt us, with the\ngood assistance of Theon; for I find this gentleman (meaning me) is\nalready tired. Then Theon said to him,\n\n     Our fellows have that garland from us won;\n\ntherefore, if you please,\n\n     Let's fix another goal, and at that run.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xxii, 6)\n\nWe will even prosecute them at the suit of the philosophers, in the\nfollowing form: We'll prove, if we can, that it is impossible to live\na pleasurable life according to their tenets. Bless me! said I to him,\nsmiling, you seem to me to level your foot at the very bellies of the\nmen, and to design to enter the list with them for their lives, whilst\nyou go about to rob them thus of their pleasure, and they cry out to\nyou,\n\n     \"Forbear, we're no good boxers, sir;\n\nno, nor good pleaders, nor good senators, nor good magistrates either;\n\n     \"Our proper talent is to eat and drink.\"\n     (\"Odyssey,\" viii, 246, 248)\n\nand to excite such tender and delicate motions in our bodies as may\nchafe our imaginations to some jolly delight or gayety.\" And therefore\nyou seem to me not so much to take off (as I may say) the pleasurable\npart, as to deprive the men of their very lives, while you will not\nleave them to live pleasurably. Nay then, said Theon, if you approve so\nhighly of this subject, why do you not set in hand to it? By all means,\nsaid I, I am for this, and shall not only hear but answer you too, if\nyou shall insist. But I must leave it to you to take the lead.\n\nThen, after Theon had spoken something to excuse himself, Aristodemus\nsaid: When we had so short and fair a cut to our design, how have you\nblocked up the way before us, by preventing us from joining issue with\nthe faction at the very first upon the single point of propriety! For\nyou must grant, it can be no easy matter to drive men already possessed\nthat pleasure is their utmost good yet to believe a life of pleasure\nimpossible to be attained. But now the truth is, that when they failed\nof living becomingly they failed also of living pleasurably; for to\nlive pleasurably without living becomingly is even by themselves allowed\ninconsistent.\n\nTheon then said: We may probably resume the consideration of that in\nthe process of our discourse; in the interim we will make use of their\nconcessions. Now they suppose their last good to lie about the belly and\nsuch other conveyances of the body as let in pleasure and not pain; and\nare of opinion, that all the brave and ingenious inventions that ever\nhave been were contrived at first for the pleasure of the belly, or the\ngood hope of compassing such pleasure,--as the sage Metrodorus informs\nus. By which, my good friend, it is very plain, they found their\npleasure in a poor, rotten, and unsure thing, and one that is equally\nperforated for pains, by the very passages they receive their pleasures\nby; or rather indeed, that admits pleasure but by a few, but pain by\nall its parts. For the whole of pleasure is in a manner in the joints,\nnerves, feet, and hands; and these are oft the seats of very grievous\nand lamentable distempers, as gouts, corroding rheums, gangrenes, and\nputrid ulcers. And if you apply to yourself the exquisitest of perfumes\nor gusts, you will find but some one small part of your body is finely\nand delicately touched, while the rest are many times filled with\nanguish and complaints. Besides, there is no part of us proof against\nfire, sword, teeth, or scourges, or insensible of dolors and aches; yea,\nheats, colds, and fevers sink into all our parts alike. But pleasures,\nlike gales of soft wind, move simpering, one towards one extreme of the\nbody and another towards another, and then go off in a vapor. Nor are\nthey of any long durance, but, as so many glancing meteors, they are\nno sooner kindled in the body than they are quenched by it. As to pain,\nAeschylus's Philoctetes affords us a sufficient testimony:--\n\n     The cruel viper ne'er will quit my foot;\n     Her dire envenomed teeth have there ta'en root.\n\nFor pain will not troll off as pleasure doth, nor imitate it in its\npleasing and tickling touches. But as the clover twists its perplexed\nand winding roots into the earth, and through its coarseness abides\nthere a long time; so pain disperses and entangles its hooks and roots\nin the body, and continues there, not for a day or a night, but for\nseveral seasons of years, if not for some revolutions of Olympiads, nor\nscarce ever departs unless struck out by other pains, as by stronger\nnails. For who ever drank so long as those that are in a fever are\na-dry? Or who was ever so long eating as those that are besieged\nsuffer hunger? Or where are there any that are so long solaced with the\nconversation of friends as tyrants are racking and tormenting? Now all\nthis is owing to the baseness of the body and its natural incapacity for\na pleasurable life; for it bears pains better than it doth pleasures,\nand with respect to those is firm and hardy, but with respect to these\nis feeble and soon palled. To which add, that if we are minded to\ndiscourse on a life of pleasure, these men won't give us leave to go on,\nbut will presently confess themselves that the pleasures of the body are\nbut short, or rather indeed but of a moment's continuance; if they do\nnot design to banter us or else speak out of vanity, when Metrodorus\ntells us, We many times spit at the pleasures of the body, and Epicurus\nsaith, A wise man, when he is sick, many times laughs in the very\nextremity of his distemper.\n\n     For Ithaca is no fit place\n     For mettled steeds to run a race.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" iv. 605.)\n\nNeither can the joys of our poor bodies be smooth and equal; but on the\ncontrary they must be coarse and harsh, and immixed with much that is\ndispleasing and inflamed.\n\nZeuxippus then said: And do you not think then they take the right\ncourse to begin at the body, where they observe pleasure to have its\nfirst rise, and thence to pass to the mind as the more stable and sure\npart, there to complete and crown the whole?\n\nThey do, by Jove, I said; and if, after removing thither they have\nindeed found something more consummate than before, a course too as well\nagreeing with nature as becoming men adorned with both contemplative and\ncivil knowledge. But if after all this you still hear them cry out, and\nprotest that the mind of man can receive no satisfaction or tranquillity\nfrom anything under Heaven but the pleasures of the body either in\npossession or expectance, and that these are its proper and only good,\ncan you forbear thinking they make use of the soul but as a funnel\nfor the body, while they mellow their pleasure by shifting it from one\nvessel to another, as they rack wine out of an old and leaky vessel\ninto a new one and there let it grow old, and then imagine they have\nperformed some extraordinary and very fine thing? True indeed, a fresh\npipe may both keep and recover wine that hath thus been drawn off; but\nthe mind, receiving but the remembrance only of past pleasure, like a\nkind of scent, retains that and no more. For as soon as it hath given\none hiss in the body, it immediately expires, and that little of it that\nstays behind in the memory is but flat and like a queasy fume: as if a\nman should lay up and treasure in his fancy what he either ate or drank\nyesterday, that he may have recourse to that when he wants fresh fare.\nSee now how much more temperate the Cyrenaics are, who, though they have\ndrunk out of the same bottle with Epicurus, yet will not allow men so\nmuch as to practise their amours by candlelight, but only under\nthe covert of the dark, for fear seeing should fasten too quick an\nimpression of the images of such actions upon the fancy and thereby\ntoo frequently inflame the desire. But these gentlemen account it the\nhighest accomplishment of a philosopher to have a clear and retentive\nmemory of all the various figures, passions, and touches of past\npleasure. We will not now say, they present us with nothing worthy the\nname of philosophy, while they leave the refuse of pleasure in their\nwise man's mind, as if it could be a lodging for bodies; but that it is\nimpossible such things as these should make a man live pleasurably, I\nthink is abundantly manifest from hence.\n\nFor it will not perhaps seem strange if I assert, that the memory of\npleasure past brings no pleasure with it if it appeared but little in\nthe very enjoyment, or to men of such abstinence as to account it for\ntheir benefit to retire from its first approaches; when even the most\namazed and sensual admirers of corporeal delights remain no longer in\ntheir gaudy and pleasant humor than their pleasure lasts them. What\nremains is but an empty shadow and dream of that pleasure that hath now\ntaken wing and is fled from them, and that serves but for fuel to foment\ntheir untamed desires. Like as in those that dream they are a-dry or in\nlove, their unaccomplished pleasures and enjoyments do but excite the\ninclination to a greater keenness. Nor indeed can the remembrance of\npast enjoyments afford them any real contentment at all, but must serve\nonly, with the help of a quick desire, to raise up very much of outrage\nand stinging pain out of the remains of a feeble and befooling pleasure.\nNeither doth it befit men of continence and sobriety to exercise their\nthoughts about such poor things, or to do what one twitted Carneades\nwith, to reckon, as out of a diurnal, how oft they have lain with\nHedia or Leontion, or where they last drank Thasian wine, or at what\ntwentieth-day feast they had a costly supper. For such transport and\ncaptivatedness of the mind to its own remembrances as this is would show\na detestable and bestial restlessness and raving towards the present\nand hoped-for acts of pleasure. And therefore I cannot but look upon\nthe sense of these inconveniences as the true cause of their retiring\nat last to a freedom from pain and a firm state of body; as if living\npleasurably could lie in bare imagining this either past or future to\nsome persons. True indeed it is, \"that a sound state of body and a good\nassurance of its continuing must needs afford a most transcending and\nsolid satisfaction to all men capable of reasoning.\"\n\nBut yet look first what work they make, while they course this same\nthing--whether it be pleasure, exemption from pain, or good health--up\nand down, first from the body to the mind, and then back again from the\nmind to the body, being compelled to return it to its first origin,\nlest it should run out and so give them the slip. Thus they place the\npleasure of the body (as Epicurus says) upon the complacent joy in the\nmind, and yet conclude again with the good hopes that complacent\njoy hath in bodily pleasure. Indeed what wonder is it if, when the\nfoundation shakes, the superstructure totter? Or that there should be no\nsure hope nor unshaken joy in a matter that suffers so great concussion\nand changes as continually attend a body exposed to so many violences\nand strokes from without, and having within it the origins of such evils\nas human reason cannot avert? For if it could, no understanding man\nwould ever fall under stranguries, gripes, consumptions, or dropsies;\nwith some of which Epicurus himself did conflict and Polyaenus with\nothers, while others of them were the deaths of Neocles and Agathobulus.\nAnd this we mention not to disparage them, knowing very well that\nPherecydes and Heraclitus, both very excellent persons, labored under\nvery uncouth and calamitous distempers. We only beg of them, if they\nwill own their own diseases and not by noisy rants and popular harangues\nincur the imputation of false bravery, either not to take the health of\nthe whole body for the ground of their content, or else not to say that\nmen under the extremities of dolors and diseases can yet rally and be\npleasant. For a sound and hale constitution of body is indeed a\nthing that often happens, but a firm and steadfast assurance of\nits continuance can never befall an intelligent mind. But as at sea\n(according to Aeschylus)\n\n     Night to the ablest pilot trouble brings,\n     (Aechylus, \"Suppliants,\" 770.)\n\nand so will a calm too, for no man knows what will be,--so likewise\nis it impossible for a soul that dwells in a healthful body, and that\nplaces her good in the hopes she hath of that body, to perfect her\nvoyage here without frights or waves. For man's mind hath not, like the\nsea, its tempests and storms only from without it, but it also raises up\nfrom within far more and greater disturbances. And a man may with more\nreason look for constant fair weather in the midst of winter than for\nperpetual exemption from afflictions in his body. For what else hath\ngiven the poets occasion to term us ephemeral creatures, uncertain and\nunfixed, and to liken our lives to leaves that both spring and fall in\nthe lapse of a summer, but the unhappy, calamitous, and sickly condition\nof the body, whose very utmost good we are warned to dread and prevent?\nFor an exquisite habit, Hippocrates saith, is slippery and hazardous.\nAnd\n\n     He that but now looked jolly, plump, and stout,\n     Like a star shot by Jove, is now gone out;\n\nas it is in Euripides. And it is a vulgar persuasion, that very handsome\npersons, when looked upon, oft suffer damage by envy and an evil eye;\nfor a body at its utmost vigor will through delicacy very soon admit of\nchanges.\n\nBut now that these men are miserably unprovided for an undisturbed life,\nyou may discern even from what they themselves advance against others.\nFor they say that those who commit wickedness and incur the displeasure\nof the laws live in constant misery and fear, for, though they may\nperhaps attain to privacy, yet it is impossible they should ever be well\nassured of that privacy; whence the ever impending fear of the future\nwill not permit them to have either complacency or assurance in their\npresent circumstances. But they consider not how they speak all this\nagainst themselves. For a sound and healthy state of body they may\nindeed oftentimes possess, but that they should ever be well assured of\nits continuance is impossible; and they must of necessity be in constant\ndisquiet and pain for the body with respect to futurity, never being\nable to reach that firm and steadfast assurance which they expect. But\nto do no wickedness will contribute nothing to our assurance; for it is\nnot suffering unjustly but suffering in itself that is dismaying. Nor\ncan it be a matter of trouble to be engaged in villanies one's self, and\nnot afflictive to suffer by the villanies of others. Neither can it\nbe said that the tyranny of Lachares was less, if it was not more,\ncalamitous to the Athenians, and that of Dionysius to the Syracusans,\nthan they were to the tyrants themselves; for it was disturbing that\nmade them be disturbed; and their first oppressing and pestering of\nothers gave them occasion to expect to suffer ill themselves. Why should\na man recount the outrages of rabbles, the barbarities of thieves,\nor the villanies of inheritors, or yet the contagions of airs and the\nconcursions of seas, by which Epicurus (as himself writeth) was in his\nvoyage to Lampsacus within very little of drowning? The very composition\nof the body--it containing in it the matter of all diseases, and (to use\na pleasantry of the vulgar) cutting thongs for the beast out of its own\nhide, I mean pains out of the body--is sufficient to make life perilous\nand uneasy, and that to the good as well as to the bad, if they have\nlearned to set their complacence and assurance in the body and the hopes\nthey have of it, and in nothing else; as Epicurus hath written, as well\nin many other of his discourses as in that of Man's End.\n\nThey therefore assign not only a treacherous and unsure ground of their\npleasurable living, but also one in all respects despicable and little,\nif the escaping of evils be the matter of their complacence and last\ngood. But now they tell us, nothing else can be so much as imagined, and\nnature hath no other place to bestow her good in but only that out\nof which her evil hath been driven; as Metrodorus speaks in his book\nagainst the Sophists. So that this single thing, to escape evil, he\nsays, is the supreme good; for there is no room to lodge this good in\nwhere no more of what is painful and afflicting goes out. Like unto this\nis that of Epicurus, where he saith: The very essence of good arises\nfrom the escaping of bad, and a man's recollecting, considering, and\nrejoicing within himself that this hath befallen him. For what occasions\ntranscending joy (he saith) is some great impending evil escaped; and\nin this lies the very nature and essence of good, if a man consider it\naright, and contain himself when he hath done, and not ramble and prate\nidly about it. Oh, the rare satisfaction and felicity these men enjoy,\nthat can thus rejoice for having undergone no evil and endured neither\nsorrow nor pain! Have they not reason, think you, to value themselves\nfor such things as these, and to speak as they are wont when they\nstyle themselves immortals and equals to gods?--and when, through the\nexcessiveness and transcendency of the blessed things they enjoy, they\nrave even to the degree of whooping and hollowing for very satisfaction\nthat, to the shame of all mortals, they have been the only men that\ncould find out this celestial and divine good that lies in an exemption\nfrom all evil? So that their beatitude differs little from that of swine\nand sheep, while they place it in a mere tolerable and contented state,\neither of the body, or of the mind upon the body's account. For even the\nmore prudent and more ingenious sort of brutes do not esteem escaping\nof evil their last end; but when they have taken their repast, they are\ndisposed next by fullness to singing, and they divert themselves with\nswimming and flying; and their gayety and sprightliness prompt them to\nentertain themselves with attempting to counterfeit all sorts of voices\nand notes; and then they make their caresses to one another, by skipping\nand dancing one towards another; nature inciting them, after they have\nescaped evil, to look after some good, or rather to shake off what\nthey find uneasy and disagreeing, as an impediment to their pursuit of\nsomething better and more congenial.\n\nFor what we cannot be without deserves not the name of good; but that\nwhich claims our desire and preference must be something beyond a bare\nescape from evil. And so, by Jove, must that be too that is either\nagreeing or congenial to us, according to Plato, who will not allow\nus to give the name of pleasures to the bare departures of sorrows and\npains, but would have us look upon them rather as obscure draughts and\nmixtures of agreeing and disagreeing, as of black and white, while\nthe extremes would advance themselves to a middle temperament. But\noftentimes unskilfulness and ignorance of the true nature of extreme\noccasions some to mistake the middle temperament for the extreme and\noutmost part. Thus do Epicurus and Metrodorus, while they make avoiding\nof evil to be the very essence and consummation of good, and so receive\nbut as it were the satisfaction of slaves or of rogues newly discharged\nthe jail, who are well enough contented if they may but wash and supple\ntheir sores and the stripes they received by whipping, but never in\ntheir lives had one taste or sight of a generous, clean, unmixed and\nunulcerated joy. For it follows not that, if it be vexatious to have\none's body itch or one's eyes to run, it must be therefore a blessing to\nscratch one's self, and to wipe one's eye with a rag; nor that, if it\nbe bad to be dejected or dismayed at divine matters or to be discomposed\nwith the relations of hell, therefore the bare avoiding of all this\nmust be some happy and amiable thing. The truth is, these men's opinion,\nthough it pretends so far to outgo that of the vulgar, allows their\njoy but a straight and narrow compass to toss and tumble in, while it\nextends it but to an exemption from the fear of hell, and so makes that\nthe top of acquired wisdom which is doubtless natural to the brutes.\nFor if freedom from bodily pain be still the same, whether it come by\nendeavor or by nature, neither then is an undisturbed state of mind the\ngreater for being attained to by industry than if it came by nature.\nThough a man may with good reason maintain that to be the more confirmed\nhabit of the mind which naturally admits of no disorder, than that which\nby application and judgment eschews it.\n\nBut let us suppose them both equal; they will yet appear not one jot\nsuperior to the beasts for being unconcerned at the stories of hell\nand the legends of the gods, and for not expecting endless sorrows and\neverlasting torments hereafter. For it is Epicurus himself that tells\nus that, had our surmises about heavenly phenomena and our foolish\napprehensions of death and the pains that ensue it given us no disquiet,\nwe had not then needed to contemplate nature for our relief. For neither\nhave the brutes any weak surmises of the gods or fond opinion about\nthings after death to disorder themselves with; nor have they as much as\nimagination or notion that there is anything in these to be dreaded. I\nconfess, had they left us the benign providence of God as a presumption,\nwise men might then seem, by reason of their good hopes from thence, to\nhave something towards a pleasurable life that beasts have not. But now,\nsince they have made it the scope of all their discourses of God that\nthey may not fear him, but may be eased of all concern about him, I much\nquestion whether those that never thought at all of him have not this in\na more confirmed degree than they that have learned to think he can do\nno harm. For if they were never freed from superstition, they never fell\ninto it; and if they never laid aside a disturbing conceit of God, they\nnever took one up. The like may be said as to hell and the future state.\nFor though neither the Epicurean nor the brute can hope for any good\nthence; yet such as have no forethought of death at all cannot but be\nless amused and scared with what comes after it than they that betake\nthemselves to the principle that death is nothing to us. But something\nto them it must be, at least so far as they concern themselves to reason\nabout it and contemplate it; but the beasts are wholly exempted from\nthinking of what appertains not to them; and if they fly from blows,\nwounds, and slaughters, they fear no more in death than is dismaying to\nthe Epicurean himself.\n\nSuch then are the things they boast to have attained by their\nphilosophy. Let us now see what those are they deprive themselves of and\nchase away from them. For those diffusions of the mind that arise\nfrom the body, and the pleasing condition of the body, if they be\nbut moderate, appear to have nothing in them that is either great or\nconsiderable; but if they be excessive, besides their being vain and\nuncertain, they are also importune and petulant; nor should a man term\nthem either mental satisfactions or gayeties, but rather corporeal\ngratifications, they being at best but the simperings and effeminacies\nof the mind. But now such as justly deserve the names of complacencies\nand joys are wholly refined from their contraries, and are immixed with\nneither vexation, remorse, nor repentance; and their good is congenial\nto the mind and truly mental and genuine, and not superinduced. Nor is\nit devoid of reason, but most rational, as springing either from that in\nthe mind that is contemplative and inquiring, or else from that part\nof it that is active and heroic. How many and how great satisfactions\neither of these affords us, no one can ever relate. But to hint briefly\nat some of them. We have the historians before us, which, though they\nfind us many and delightful exercises, still leave our desire after\ntruth insatiate and uncloyed with pleasure, through which even lies\nare not without their grace. Yea, tales and poetic fictions, while they\ncannot gain upon our belief, have something in them that is charming to\nus.\n\nFor do but think with yourself, with what a sting we read Plato's\n\"Atlantic\" and the conclusion of the \"Iliad,\" and how we hanker and gape\nafter the rest of the tale, as when some beautiful temple or theatre is\nshut up. But now the informing of ourselves with the truth herself is\na thing so delectable and lovely as if our very life and being were for\nthe sake of knowing. And the darkest and grimmest things in death are\nits oblivion, ignorance, and obscurity. Whence, by Jove, it is that\nalmost all mankind encounter with those that would destroy the sense\nof the departed, as placing the very whole of their life, being, and\nsatisfaction solely in the sensible and knowing part of the mind. For\neven the things that grieve and afflict us yet afford us a sort of\npleasure in the hearing. And it is often seen that those that are\ndisordered by what is told them, even to the degree of weeping,\nnotwithstanding require the telling of it. So he in the tragedy who is\ntold,\n\n     Alas I now the very worst must tell,\n\nreplies,\n\n     I dread to hear it too, but I must hear.\n     (Sophocles, \"Pedipus Tyrannus,\" 1169, 1170.)\n\nBut this may seem perhaps a sort of intemperateness of delight in\nknowing everything, and as it were a stream violently bearing down the\nreasoning faculty. But now, when a story that hath in it nothing that is\ntroubling and afflictive treats of great and heroic enterprises with a\npotency and grace of style such as we find in Herodotus's Grecian and in\nXenophon's Persian history, or in what,\n\n     Inspired by heavenly gods, sage Homer sung,\n\nor in the Travels of Euxodus, the Foundations and Republics of\nAristotle, and the Lives of Famous Men compiled by Aristoxenus; these\nwill not only bring us exceeding much and great contentment, but such\nalso as is clean and secure from repentance. And who could take greater\nsatisfaction either in eating when a-hungry or drinking when a-dry\namongst the Phaeacians, than in going over Ulysses's relation of his\nown voyage and rambles? And what man could be better pleased with the\nembraces of the most exquisite beauty, than with sitting up all night\nto read over what Xenophon hath written of Panthea, or Aristobulus of\nTimoclea, or Theopompus of Thebe?\n\nBut now these appertain all solely to the mind. But they chase away\nfrom them the delights that accrue from the mathematics also. Though the\nsatisfactions we receive from history have in them something simple and\nequal; but those that come from geometry, astronomy, and music inveigle\nand allure us with a sort of nimbleness and variety, and want nothing\nthat is tempting and engaging; their figures attracting us as so many\ncharms, whereof whoever hath once tasted, if he be but competently\nskilled, will run about chanting that in Sophocles,\n\n     I'm mad; the Muses with new rage inspire me.\n     I'll mount the hill; my lyre, my numbers fire me.\n     (From the \"Thamyras\" of Sophocles, Frag. 225)\n\nNor doth Thamyras break out into poetic raptures upon any other score;\nnor, by Jove, Euxodus, Aristarchus, or Archimedes. And when the lovers\nof the art of painting are so enamoured with the charmingness of their\nown performances, that Nicias, as he was drawing the Evocation of Ghosts\nin Homer, often asked his servants whether he had dined or no, and when\nKing Ptolemy had sent him threescore talents for his piece, after it was\nfinished, he neither would accept the money nor part with his work; what\nand how great satisfactions may we then suppose to have been reaped\nfrom geometry and astronomy by Euclid when he wrote his Dioptrics, by\nPhilippus when he had perfected his demonstration of the figure of the\nmoon, by Archimedes when with the help of a certain angle he had found\nthe sun's diameter to make the same part of the largest circle that that\nangle made of four right angles, and by Apollonius and Aristarchus who\nwere the inventors of some other things of the like nature? The bare\ncontemplating and comprehending of all these now engender in the\nlearners both unspeakable delights and a marvellous height of spirit.\nAnd it doth in no wise beseem me, by comparing with these the fulsome\ndebauchees of victualling-houses and stews, to contaminate Helicon and\nthe Muses,--\n\n     Where swain his flock ne'er fed,\n     Nor tree by hatchet bled.\n     (Euripides, \"Hippolytus,\" 75.)\n\nBut these are the verdant and untrampled pastures of ingenious bees;\nbut those are more like the mange of lecherous boars and he-goats. And\nthough a voluptuous temper of mind be naturally erratic and precipitate,\nyet never any yet sacrificed an ox for joy that he had gained his will\nof his mistress; nor did any ever wish to die immediately, might he but\nonce satiate himself with the costly dishes and comfits at the table of\nhis prince. But now Eudoxus wished he might stand by the sun, and inform\nhimself of the figure, magnitude, and beauty of that luminary, though\nhe were, like Phaethon, consumed by it. And Pythagoras offered an ox in\nsacrifice for having completed the lines of a certain geometric diagram;\nas Apollodotus tells us,\n\n     When the famed lines Pythagoras devised,\n     For which a splendid ox he sacrificed.\n\nWhether it was that by which he showed that the line that regards the\nright angle in a triangle is equivalent to the two lines that contain\nthat angle, or the problem about the area of the parabolic section of\na cone. And Archimedes's servants were forced to hale him away from his\ndraughts, to be anointed in the bath; but he notwithstanding drew the\nlines upon his belly with his strigil. And when, as he was washing\n(as the story goes of him), he thought of a manner of computing the\nproportion of gold in King Hiero's crown by seeing the water flowing\nover the bathing-stool, he leaped up as one possessed or inspired,\ncrying, \"I have found it;\" which after he had several times repeated,\nhe went his way. But we never yet heard of a glutton that exclaimed\nwith such vehemence, \"I have eaten,\" or of an amorous gallant that ever\ncried, \"I have kissed,\" among the many millions of dissolute debauchees\nthat both this and preceding ages have produced. Yea, we abominate those\nthat make mention of their great suppers with too luscious a gust, as\nmen overmuch taken with mean and abject delights. But we find ourselves\nin one and the same ecstasy with Eudoxus, Archimedes, and Hipparchus;\nand we readily give assent to Plato when he saith of the mathematics,\nthat while ignorance and unskilledness make men despise them, they still\nthrive notwithstanding by reason of their charmingness, in despite of\ncontempt.\n\nThese then so great and so many pleasures, that run like perpetual\nsprings and rills, these men decline and avoid; nor will they permit\nthose that put in among them so much as to take a taste of them, but bid\nthem hoist up the little sails of their paltry cock-boats and fly from\nthem. Nay, they all, both he and she philosophers, beg and entreat\nPythocles, for dear Epicurus's sake, not to affect or make such account\nof the sciences called liberal. And when they cry up and defend one\nApelles, they write of him that he kept himself clean by refraining\nhimself all along from the mathematics. But as to history--to pass over\ntheir aversedness to other kinds of compositions--I shall only present\nyou with the words of Metrodorus, who in his treatise of the Poets\nwrites thus: Wherefore let it never disturb you, if you know not either\nwhat side Hector was of, or the first verses in Homer's Poem, or\nagain what is in its middle. But that the pleasures of the body spend\nthemselves like the winds called Etesian or Anniversary, and utterly\ndetermine when once age is past its vigor, Epicurus himself was not\ninsensible; and therefore he makes it a problematic question, whether a\nsage philosopher, when he is an old man and disabled for enjoyment, may\nnot still be recreated with having handsome girls to feel and grope him,\nbeing not, it seems, of the mind of old Sophocles, who thanked God he\nhad at length escaped from this kind of pleasure, as from an untamed and\nfurious master. But, in my opinion, it would be more advisable for these\nsensual lechers, when they see that age will dry up so many of their\npleasures, and that, as Euripides saith,\n\n     Dame Venus is to ancient men a foe,\n     (Euripides, \"Aeolus,\" Frag. 23.)\n\nin the first place to collect and lay up in store, as against a siege,\nthese other pleasures, as a sort of provision that will not impair and\ndecay; that then, after they have celebrated the venereal festivals\nof life, they may spend a cleanly after-feast in reading over the\nhistorians and poets, or else in problems of music and geometry. For\nit would never have come into their minds so much as to think of these\npurblind and toothless gropings and spurtings of lechery, had they but\nlearned, if nothing more, to write comments upon Homer or Euripides, as\nAristotle, Heraclides, and Dicaerchus did. But I verily persuade myself\nthat their neglecting to take care for such provisions as these, and\nfinding all the other things they employed themselves in (as they use to\nsay of virtue) but insipid and dry, and being wholly set upon pleasure,\nand the body no longer supplying them with it, give them occasion to\nstoop to do things both mean and shameful in themselves and unbecoming\ntheir age; as well when they refresh their memories with their former\npleasures and serve themselves of old ones (as it were) long since dead\nand laid up in pickle for the purpose, when they cannot have fresh ones,\nas when again they offer violence to nature by suscitating and inflaming\nin their decayed bodies, as in cold embers, other new ones equally\nsenseless, they having not, it seems, their minds stored with any\ncongenial pleasure that is worth the rejoicing at.\n\nAs to the other delights of the mind, we have already treated of them,\nas they occurred to us. But their aversedness and dislike to music,\nthat affords us so great delights and such charming satisfactions, a\nman could not forget if he would, by reason of the inconsistency of what\nEpicurus saith, when he pronounceth in his book called his Doubts that\nhis wise man ought to be a lover of public spectacles and to delight\nabove any other man in the music and shows of the Bacchanals; and yet\nhe will not admit of music problems or of the critical inquiries of\nphilologists, no, not so much as at a compotation. Yea, he advises such\nprinces as are lovers of the Muses rather to entertain themselves at\ntheir feasts either with some narration of military adventures or with\nthe importune scurrilities of drolls and buffoons, than to engage in\ndisputes about music or in questions of poetry. For this very thing he\nhad the face to write in his treatise of Monarchy, as if he were writing\nto Sardanapalus, or to Nanarus ruler of Babylon. For neither would a\nHiero nor an Attalus nor an Archelaus be persuaded to make a Euripides,\na Simonides, a Melanippides, a Crates, or a Diodotus rise up from their\ntables, and to place such scaramuchios in their rooms as a Cardax, an\nAgrias, or a Callias, or fellows like Thrasonides and Thrasyleon, to\nmake people disorder the house with hollowing and clapping. Had the\ngreat Ptolemy, who was the first that formed a consort of musicians, but\nmet with these excellent and royal admonitions, would he not, think you,\nhave thus addressed himself to the Samians:--\n\n     O Muse, whence art thou thus maligned?\n\nFor certainly it can never belong to any Athenian to be in such enmity\nand hostility with the Muses. But\n\n     No animal accurst by Jove\n     Music's sweet charms can ever love.\n     (Pindar, \"Pythian,\" i. 25.)\n\nWhat sayest thou now, Epicurus? Wilt thou get thee up betimes in the\nmorning, and go to the theatre to hear the harpers and flutists\nplay? But if a Theophrastus discourse at the table of Concords, or an\nAristoxenus of Varieties, or if an Aristophanes play the critic upon\nHomer, wilt thou presently, for very dislike and abhorrence, clap both\nthy hands upon thy ears? And do they not hereby make the Scythian king\nAteas more musical than this comes to, who, when he heard that admirable\nflutist Ismenias, detained then by him as a prisoner of war, playing\nupon the flute at a compotation, swore he had rather hear his own horse\nneigh? And do they not also profess themselves to stand at an implacable\nand irreconcilable defiance with whatever is generous and becoming? And\nindeed what do they ever embrace or affect that is either genteel or\nregardable, when it hath nothing of pleasure to accompany it? And would\nit not far less affect a pleasurable way of living, to abhor perfumes\nand odors, like beetles and vultures, than to shun and abhor the\nconversation of learned, critics and musicians? For what flute or harp\nready tuned for a lesson, or\n\n     What sweetest concerts e'er with artful noise,\n     Warbled by softest tongue and best tuned voice,\n\never gave Epicurus and Metrodorus such content as the disputes and\nprecepts about concerts gave Aristotle, Theophrastus, Hieronymus, and\nDicaerchus? And also the problems about flutes, rhythms, and harmonies;\nas, for instance, why the longer of two flutes of the same longitude\nshould speak flatter?--why, if you raise the pipe, will all its notes\nbe sharp; and flat again, if you depress it?--and why, when clapped\nto another, will it sound flatter; and sharper again, when taken from\nit?--why also, if you scatter chaff or dust about the orchestra of a\ntheatre, will the sound be deadened?--and why, when one would have set\nup a bronze Alexander for a frontispiece to a stage at Pella, did the\narchitect advise to the contrary, because it would spoil the actors'\nvoices? and why, of the several kinds of music, will the chromatic\ndiffuse and the harmonic compose the mind? But now the several humors\nof poets, their differing turns and forms of style, and the solutions\nof their difficult places, have conjoined with a sort of dignity and\npoliteness somewhat also that is extremely agreeable and charming;\ninsomuch that to me they seem to do what was once said by Xenophon, to\nmake a man even forget the joys of love, so powerful and overcoming is\nthe pleasure they bring us.\n\nIn this investigation these gentlemen have not the least share, nor\ndo they so much as pretend or desire to have any. But while they are\nsinking and depressing their contemplative part into the body, and\ndragging it down by their sensual and intemperate appetites, as by so\nmany weights of lead, they make themselves appear little better than\nhostlers or graziers that still ply their cattle with hay, straw, or\ngrass, looking upon such provender as the properest and meetest food\nfor them. And is it not even thus they would swill the mind with the\npleasures of the body, as hogherds do their swine, while they will\nnot allow it can be gay any longer than it is hoping, experiencing,\nor remembering something that refers to the body; but will not have it\neither to receive or seek for any congenial joy or satisfaction\nfrom within itself? Though what can be more absurd and unreasonable\nthan--when there are two things that go to make up the man, a body and\na soul, and the soul besides hath the perogative of governing--that the\nbody should have its peculiar, natural, and proper good, and the soul\nnone at all, but must sit gazing at the body and simper at its passions,\nas if she were pleased and affected with them, though indeed she be all\nthe while wholly untouched and unconcerned, as having nothing of her own\nto choose, desire, or take delight in? For they should either pull off\nthe vizor quite, and say plainly that man is all body (as some of them\ndo, that take away all mental being), or, if they will allow us to have\ntwo distinct natures, they should then leave to each its proper good and\nevil, agreeable and disagreeable; as we find it to be with our senses,\neach of which is peculiarly adapted to its own sensible, though they all\nvery strangely intercommune one with another. Now the intellect is the\nproper sense of the mind; and therefore that it should have no congenial\nspeculation, movement, or affection of its own, the attaining to which\nshould be matter of complacency to it, is the most irrational thing in\nthe world, if I have not, by Jove, unwittingly done the men wrong, and\nbeen myself imposed upon by some that may perhaps have calumniated them.\n\nThen I said to him: If we may be your judges, you have not; yea, we must\nacquit you of having offered them the least indignity; and therefore\npray despatch the rest of your discourse with assurance. How! said\nI, and shall not Aristodemus then succeed me, if you are tired out\nyourself? Aristodemus said: With all my heart, when you are as much\ntired as he is; but since you are yet in your vigor, pray make use of\nyourself, my noble friend, and don't think to pretend weariness. Theon\nthen replied: What is yet behind, I must confess, is very easy; it being\nbut to go over the several pleasures contained in that part of life that\nconsists in action. Now themselves somewhere say that there is far more\nsatisfaction in doing than in receiving good; and good may be done many\ntimes, it is true, by words, but the most and greatest part of good\nconsists in action, as the very name of beneficence tells us and they\nthemselves also attest. For you may remember, continued he, we heard\nthis gentleman tell us but now what words Epicurus uttered, and\nwhat letters he sent to his friends, applauding and magnifying\nMetrodorus,--how bravely and like a spark he quitted the city and\nwent down to the port to relieve Mithrus the Syrian,--and this, though\nMetrodorus did not then do anything at all. What and how great then\nmay we presume the pleasures of Plato to have been, when Dion by the\nmeasures he gave him deposed the tyrant Dionysius and set Sicily at\nliberty? And what the pleasures of Aristotle, when he rebuilt his native\ncity Stagira, then levelled with the ground, and brought back its exiled\ninhabitants? And what the pleasures of Theophrastus and of Phidias, when\nthey cut off the tyrants of their respective countries? For what need\na man recount to you, who so well know it, how many particular persons\nthey relieved, not by sending them a little wheat or a measure of meal\n(as Epicurus did to some of his friends), but by procuring restoration\nto the banished, liberty to the imprisoned, and restitution of wives and\nchildren to those that had been bereft of them? But a man could not, if\nhe were willing, pass by the sottish stupidity of the man who, though\nhe tramples under foot and vilifies the great and generous actions of\nThemistocles and Miltiades, yet writes these very words to his friends\nabout himself: \"You have given a very gallant and noble testimony of\nyour care of me in the provision of corn you have made for me, and have\ndeclared your affection to me by signs that mount to the very skies.\"\nSo that, should a man but take that poor parcel of corn out of the great\nphilosopher's epistle, it might seem to be the recital of some letter of\nthanks for the delivery or preservation of all Greece or of the commons\nof Athens.\n\nWe will now forbear to mention that Nature requires very large and\nchargeable provisions to be made for accomplishing the pleasures of the\nbody; nor can the height of delicacy be had in black bread and lentil\npottage. But voluptuous and sensual appetites expect costly dishes,\nThasian wines, perfumed unguents, and varieties of pastry works,\n\n     And cakes by female hands wrought artfully,\n     Well steep'd in th' liquor of the gold-wing'd bee;\n\nand besides all this, handsome young lassies too, such as Leontion,\nBoidion, Hedia, and Nicedion, that were wont to roam about in Epicurus's\nphilosophic garden. But now such joys as suit the mind must undoubtedly\nbe grounded upon a grandeur of actions and a splendor of worthy deeds,\nif men would not seem little, ungenerous, and puerile, but on the\ncontrary, bulky, firm, and brave. But for a man to be elated by\nhappiness, as Epicurus is, like sailors upon the festivals of Venus,\nand to vaunt himself that, when he was sick of an ascites, he\nnotwithstanding called his friends together to certain collations and\ngrudged not his dropsy the addition of good liquor, and that, when he\ncalled to remembrance the last words of Neocles, he was melted with a\npeculiar sort of joy intermixed with tears,--no man in his right senses\nwould call these true joys or satisfactions. Nay, I will be bold to say\nthat, if such a thing as that they call a sardonic or grinning laughter\ncan happen to the mind, it is to be found in these artificial and crying\nlaughters. But if any will needs have them still called by the name of\njoys and satisfactions, let him but yet think how far they are exceeded\nby the pleasures that here ensue:--\n\n     Our counsels have proud Sparta's glory clipt;\nand Stranger, this is his country Rome's great star;\n\nand again this,\n\n     I know not which to guess thee, man or god.\n\nNow when I set before my eyes the brave achievements of Thrasybulus and\nPelopidas, of Aristides engaged at Platea and Miltiades at Marathon, I\nam here constrained with Herodotus to declare it my opinion, that in an\nactive state of life the pleasure far exceeds the glory. And Epaminondas\nherein bears me witness also, when he saith (as is reported of him),\nthat the greatest satisfaction he ever received in his life was that\nhis father and mother had lived to see the trophy set up at Leuctra when\nhimself was general. Let us then compare with Epaminondas's Epicurus's\nmother, rejoicing that she had lived to see her son cooping himself up\nin a little garden, and getting children in common with Polyaenus upon\nthe strumpet of Cyzicus. As for Metrodorus's mother and sister, how\nextravagantly rejoiced they were at his nuptials appears by the letters\nhe wrote to his brother in answer to his; that is, out of his own books.\nNay, they tell us bellowing that they have not only lived a life of\npleasure, but also exult and sing hymns in the praise of their own\nliving. Though, when our servants celebrate the festivals of Saturn or\ngo in procession at the time of the rural bacchanals, you would scarcely\nbrook the hollowing and din they make, if the intemperateness of their\njoy and their insensibleness of decorum should make them act and speak\nsuch things as these:--\n\n     Lean down, boy! why dost sit I let's tope like mad!\n     Here's belly-timber store; ne'er spare it, lad.\n     Straight these huzza like wild.  One fills up drink;\n     Another plaits a wreath, and crowns the brink\n     O' th' teeming bowl.  Then to the verdant bays\n     All chant rude carols in Apollo's praise;\n     While one the door with drunken fury smites,\n     Till he from bed his loving consort frights.\n\nAnd are not Metrodorus's words something like to these when he writes to\nhis brother thus: It is none of our business to preserve the Greeks, or\nto get them to bestow garlands upon us for our wit, but to eat well\nand drink good wine, Timocrates, so as not to offend but pleasure our\nstomachs. And he saith again, in some other place in the same epistles:\nHow gay and how assured was I, when I had once learned of Epicurus\nthe true way of gratifying my stomach; for, believe me, philosopher\nTimocrates, our prime good lies at the stomach.\n\nIn brief, these men draw out the dimensions of their pleasures like\na circle, about the stomach as a centre. And the truth is, it is\nimpossible for those men ever to participate of generous and princely\njoy, such as enkindles a height of spirit in us and sends forth to all\nmankind an unmade hilarity and calm serenity, that have taken up a sort\nof life that is confined, unsocial, inhuman, and uninspired towards the\nesteem of the world and the love of mankind. For the soul of man is not\nan abject, little, and ungenerous thing, nor doth it extend its desires\n(as polyps do their claws) unto eatables only,--yea, these are in an\ninstant of time taken off by the least plenitude, but when its efforts\ntowards what is brave and generous and the honors and caresses that\naccrue therefrom are now in their consummate vigor this life's duration\ncannot limit them, but the desire of glory and the love of mankind grasp\nat whole eternity, and wrestle with such actions and charms as bring\nwith them an ineffable pleasure, and such as good men, though never so\nfain, cannot decline, they meeting and accosting them on all sides and\nsurrounding them about, while their being beneficial to many occasions\njoy to themselves.\n\n     As he passes through the throngs in the city,\n     All gaze upon him as some deity.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" viii. 173.)\n\nFor he that can so affect and move other men as to fill them with joy\nand rapture, and to make them long to touch him and salute him, cannot\nbut appear even to a blind man to possess and enjoy very extraordinary\nsatisfactions in himself. And hence it comes that such men are both\nindefatigable and undaunted in serving the public, and we still hear\nsome such words from them\n\n     Thy father got thee for the common good;\n\nand\n\n     Let's not give off to benefit mankind.\n\nBut what need I instance in those that are consummately good? For if to\none of the middling rank of bad men, when he is just a-dying, he that\nhath the power over him (whether his god or prince) should but allow one\nhour more, upon condition that, after he hath spent that either in some\ngenerous action or in sensual enjoyment, he should then presently die,\nwho would in this time choose rather to accompany with Lais or drink\nAriusion wine, than to despatch Archias and restore the Athenians to\ntheir liberties? For my part I believe none would. For I see that even\ncommon sword-players, if they are not utter brutes and savages, but\nGreek born, when they are to enter the list, though there be many and\nvery costly dishes set before them, yet take more content in employing\ntheir time in commanding their poor wives to some of their friends,\nyea, and in conferring freedom on their slaves, than in gratifying their\nstomachs. But should the pleasures of the body be allowed to have some\nextraordinary matter in them, this would yet be common to men of action\nand business.\n\n     For they can eat good meat, and red wine drink,\n    (See \"Iliad,\" v. 341.)\n\naye, and entertain themselves with their friends, and perhaps with a\ngreater relish too, after their engagements and hard services,--as\ndid Alexander and Agesilaus, and (by Jove) Phocion and Epaminondas\ntoo,--than these gentlemen who anoint themselves by the fireside, and\nare gingerly rocked about the streets in sedans. Yea, those make but\nsmall account of such pleasures as these, as being comprised in those\ngreater ones. For why should a man mention Epaminondas's denying to sup\nwith one, when he saw the preparations made were above the man's\nestate, but frankly saying to his friend, \"I thought you had intended a\nsacrifice and not a debauch,\" when Alexander himself refused Queen Ada's\ncooks, telling her he had better ones of his own, to wit, travelling\nby night for his dinner, and a light dinner for his supper, and when\nPhiloxenus writing to him about some handsome boys, and desiring to know\nof him whether he would have him buy them for him, was within a small\nmatter of being discharged his office for it? And yet who might better\nhave them than he? But as Hippocrates saith that of two pains the lesser\nis forgot in the greater, so the pleasures that accrue from action and\nthe love of glory, while they cheer and refresh the mind, do by their\ntranscendency and grandeur obliterate and extinguish the inferior\nsatisfactions of the body.\n\nIf, then, the remembering of former good things (as they affirm) be that\nwhich most contributes to a pleasurable living, not one of us will then\ncredit Epicurus when he, tells us that, while he was dying away in the\nmidst of the strongest agonies and distempers, he yet bore himself up\nwith the memory of the pleasures he formerly enjoyed. For a man may\nbetter see the resemblance of his own face in a troubled deep or a\nstorm, than a smooth and smiling remembrance of past pleasure in a body\ntortured with such lancing and rending pains. But now the memories of\npast actions no man can put from him that would. For did Alexander,\nthink you, (or indeed could he possibly) forget the fight at Arbela?\nOr Pelopidas the tyrant Leontiadas? Or Themistocles the engagement at\nSalamis? For the Athenians to this very day keep an annual festival for\nthe battle at Marathon, and the Thebans for that at Leuctra; and so, by\nJove, do we ourselves (as you very well know) for that which Daiphantus\ngained at Hyampolis, and all Phocis is filled with sacrifices and\npublic honors. Nor is there any of us that is better satisfied with\nwhat himself hath either eaten or drunk than he is with what they\nhave achieved. It is very easy then to imagine what great content,\nsatisfaction, and joy accompanied the authors of these actions in their\nlifetime, when the very memory of them hath not yet after five hundred\nyears and more lost its rejoicing power. The truth is, Epicurus himself\nallows there are some pleasures derived from fame. And indeed why should\nhe not, when he himself had such a furious lechery and wriggling after\nglory as made him not only to disown his masters and scuffle about\nsyllables and accents with his fellow-pedant Democritus (whose\nprinciples he stole verbatim), and to tell his disciples there never was\na wise man in the world besides himself, but also to put it in\nwriting how Colotes performed adoration to him, as he was one day\nphilosophizing, by touching his knees, and that his own brother Neocles\nwas used from a child to say, \"There neither is, nor ever was in the\nworld, a wiser man than Epicurus,\" and that his mother had just so many\natoms within her as, when coming together, must have produced a complete\nwise man? May not a man then--as Callicratidas once said of the Athenian\nadmiral Conon, that he whored the sea as well say of Epicurus that\nhe basely and covertly forces and ravishes Fame, by not enjoying her\npublicly but ruffling and debauching her in a corner? For as men's\nbodies are oft necessitated by famine, for want of other food, to prey\nagainst nature upon themselves, a like mischief to this does vainglory\ncreate in men's minds, forcing them, when they hunger after praise and\ncannot obtain it from other men, at last to commend themselves.\n\nAnd do not they then that stand so well affected towards applause and\nfame themselves own they cast away very extraordinary pleasures,\nwhen they decline, magistrature, public offices, and the favor and\nconfidences of princes, from whom Democritus once said the grandest\nblessings of human life are derived? For he will never induce any mortal\nto believe, that he that could so highly value and please himself with\nthe attestation of his brother Neocles and the adoration of his friend\nColotes would not, were he clapped by all the Greeks at the Olympiads,\ngo quite out of his wits and even hollow for joy, or rather indeed be\nelated in the manner spoken of by Sophocles,\n\n    Puffed like the down of a gray-headed thistle.\n\nIf it be a pleasing thing then to be of a good fame, it is on the\ncontrary afflictive to be of an ill one; and it is most certain that\nnothing in the world can be more infamous than want of friendship,\nidleness, atheism, debauchery, and negligence. Now these are looked upon\nby all men except themselves as inseparable companions of their party.\nBut unjustly, some one may say. Be it so then; for we consider not now\nthe truth of the charge, but what fame and reputation they are of in the\nworld. And we shall forbear at present to mention the many books that\nhave been written to defame them, and the blackening decrees made\nagainst them by several republics; for that would look like bitterness.\nBut if the answers of oracles, the providence of the gods, and the\ntenderness and affection of parents to their issue,--if civil policy,\nmilitary order, and the office of magistracy be things to be looked\nupon as deservedly esteemed and celebrated, it must of necessity then\nbe allowed also, that they that tell us it is none of their business to\npreserve the Greeks, but they must eat and drink so as not to offend\nbut pleasure their stomachs, are base and ignominious persons, and that\ntheir being reputed such must needs extremely humble them and make their\nlives untoward to them, if they take honor and a good name for any part\nof their satisfaction.\n\nWhen Theon had thus spoken, we thought good to break up our walk to rest\nus awhile (as we were wont to do) upon the benches. Nor did we continue\nany long space in our silence at what was spoken; for Zeuxippus, taking\nhis hint from what had been said, spake to us: Who will make up that of\nthe discourse which is yet behind? For it hath not yet received its due\nconclusion; and this gentleman, by mentioning divination and providence,\ndid in my opinion suggest as much to us; for these people boast that\nthese very things contribute in no way to the providing of their lives\nwith pleasure, serenity, and assurance; so that there must be something\nsaid to these too. Aristodemus subjoined then and said: As to pleasure,\nI think there hath been enough said already to evince that, supposing\ntheir doctrine to be successful and to attain its own design, it yet\ndoth but ease us of fear and a certain superstitious persuasion but\nhelps us not to any comfort or joy from the gods at all; nay, while it\nbrings us to such a state as to be neither disquieted nor pleased with\nthem, it doth but render us in the same manner affected towards them\nas we are towards the Scythians or Hyrcanians, from whom we look for\nneither good nor harm. But if something more must be added to what hath\nbeen already spoken, I think I may very well take it from themselves.\nAnd in the first place, they quarrel extremely with those that would\ntake away all sorrowing, weeping, and sighing for the death of friends,\nand tell them that such unconcernedness as arrives to an insensibility\nproceeds from some other worse cause, to wit, inhumanity, excessive\nvainglory, or prodigious fierceness, and that therefore it would be\nbetter to be a little concerned and affected, yea, and to liquor one's\neyes and be melted, with other pretty things of the like kind, which\nthey use artificially to affect and counterfeit, that they may be\nthought tender and loving-hearted people. For just in this manner\nEpicurus expressed himself upon the occasion of the death of Hegesianax,\nwhen he wrote to Dositheus the father and to Pyrson the brother of the\ndeceased person; for I fortuned very lately to run over his epistles.\nAnd I say, in imitation of them, that atheism is no less an evil than\ninhumanity and vainglory, and into this they would lead us who take away\nwith God's anger the comfort we might derive from him. For it would\nbe much better for us to have something of the unsuiting passion of\ndauntedness and fear conjoined and intermixed with our sentiments of\na deity, than while we fly from it, to leave ourselves neither hope,\ncontent, nor assurance in the enjoyment of our good things nor any\nrecourse to God in our adversity and misfortunes.\n\nWe ought, it is true, to remove superstition from the persuasion we\nhave of the gods, as we would the gum from our eyes; but if that be\nimpossible, we must not root out and extinguish with it the belief which\nthe most have of the gods; nor is that a dismaying and sour one either,\nas these gentlemen feign, while they libel and abuse the blessed\nProvidence, representing her as a witch or as some fell and tragic fury.\nYea, I must tell you, there are some in the world that fear God in an\nexcess, for whom yet it would not be better not so to fear him. For,\nwhile they dread him as a governor that is gentle to the good and severe\nto the bad, and are by this one fear, which makes them not to need many\nothers, freed from doing ill and brought to keep their wickedness with\nthem in quiet and (as it were) in an enfeebled languor, they come hereby\nto have less disquiet than those that indulge the practice of it and are\nrash and daring in it, and then presently after fear and repent of it.\nNow that disposition of mind which the greater and ignorant part of\nmankind, that are not utterly bad, are of towards God, hath, it is\nvery true, conjoined with the regard and honor they pay him, a kind of\nanguish and astonished dread, which is also called superstition; but\nten thousand times more and greater is the good hope, the true joy,\nthat attend it, which both implore and receive the whole benefit of\nprosperity and good success from the gods only. And this is manifest by\nthe greatest tokens that can be; for neither do the discourses of those\nthat wait at the temples, nor the good times of our solemn festivals,\nnor any other actions or sights more recreate and delight us than what\nwe see and do about the gods ourselves, while we assist at the public\nceremonies, and join in the sacred balls, and attend at the sacrifices\nand initiations. For the mind is not then sorrowful depressed, and\nheavy, as if she were approaching certain tyrants or cruel torturers;\nbut on the contrary, where she is most apprehensive and fullest\npersuaded the divinity is present, there she most of all throws off\nsorrows, tears, and pensiveness, and lets herself loose to what is\npleasing and agreeable, to the very degree of tipsiness, frolic, and\nlaughter. In amorous concerns, as the poet said once,\n\n     When old man and old wife think of love's fires,\n     Their frozen breasts will swell with new desires;\n\nbut now in the public processions and sacrifices not only the old man\nand the old wife, nor yet the poor and mean man only, but also\n\n     The dusty thick-legged drab that turns the mill,\n\nand household-slaves and day-laborers, are strangely elevated and\ntransported with mirth and joviality. Rich men as well as princes are\nused at certain times to make public entertainments and to keep open\nhouses; but the feasts they make at the solemnities and sacrifices, when\nthey now apprehend their minds to approach nearest the divinity,\nhave conjoined with the honor and veneration they pay him a much more\ntranscending pleasure and satisfaction. Of this, he that hath renounced\nGod's providence hath not the least share; for what recreates and cheers\nus at the festivals is not the store of good wine and roast meat, but\nthe good hope and persuasion that God is there present and propitious\nto us, and kindly accepts of what we do. From some of our festivals\nwe exclude the flute and garland; but if God be not present at the\nsacrifice, as the solemnity of the banquet, the rest is but unhallowed,\nunfeast-like, and uninspired. Indeed the whole is but ungrateful and\nirksome to such a man; for he asks for nothing at all, but only acts his\nprayers and adorations for fear of the public, and utters expressions\ncontradictory to his philosophy. And when he sacrifices, he stands by\nand looks upon the priest as he kills the offering but as he doth upon a\nbutcher; and when he hath done, he goes his way, saying with Menander,\n\n     To bribe the gods I sacrificed my best,\n     But they ne'er minded me nor my request.\n\nFor so Epicurus would have us arrange ourselves, and neither to envy nor\nto incur the hatred of the common herd by doing ourselves with disgust\nwhat others do with delight. For, as Evenus saith,\n\n     No man can love what he is made to do.\n\nFor which very reason they think the superstitious are not pleased\nin their minds but in fear while they attend at the sacrifices and\nmysteries; though they themselves are in no better condition, if they\ndo the same things our of fear, and partake not either of as great good\nhope as the others do, but are only fearful and uneasy lest they should\ncome to be discovered as cheating and abusing the public, upon whose\naccount it is that they compose the books they write about the gods and\nthe divine nature,\n\n     Involved, with nothing truly said.\n     But all around enveloped;\n\nhiding out of fear the real opinions they contain.\n\nAnd now, after the two former ranks of ill and common men, we will in\nthe third place consider the best sort and most beloved of the gods,\nand what great satisfactions they receive from their clean and generous\nsentiments of the deity, to wit, that he is the prince of all good\nthings and the parent of all things brave, and can no more do an\nunworthy thing than he can be made to suffer it. For he is good, and he\nthat is good can upon no account fall into envy, fear, anger, or hatred;\nneither is it proper to a hot thing to cool, but to heat; nor to a\ngood thing to do harm. Now anger is by nature at the farthest distance\nimaginable from complacency, and spleenishness from placidness, and\nanimosity and turbulence from humanity and kindness. For the latter\nof these proceed from generosity and fortitude, but the former from\nimpotency and baseness. The deity is not therefore constrained by either\nanger or kindnesses; but that is because it is natural to it to be kind\nand aiding, and unnatural to be angry and hurtful. But the great Jove,\nwhose mansion is in heaven, is the first that descends downwards and\norders all things and takes the care of them. But of the other gods\none is surnamed the Distributor, and another the Mild, and a third the\nAverter of Evil. And according to Pindar,\n\n     Phoebus was by mighty Jove designed\n     Of all the gods to be to man most kind.\n\nAnd Diogenes saith, that all things are the gods', and friends have all\nthings common, and good men are the gods' friends; and therefore it is\nimpossible either that a man beloved of the gods should not be happy,\nor that a wise and a just man should not be beloved of the gods. Can\nyou think then that they that take away Providence need any other\nchastisement, or that they have not a sufficient one already, when they\nroot out of themselves such vast satisfaction and joy as we that\nstand thus affected towards the deity have? Metrodorus, Polyaenus, and\nAristobulus were the confidence and rejoicing of Epicurus; the\nbetter part of whom he all his lifetime either attended upon in their\nsicknesses or lamented at their deaths. As did Lycurgus, when he was\nsaluted by the Delphic prophetess,\n\n     Dear friend to heavenly Jove and all the gods.\n\nAnd did Socrates when he believed that a certain divinity was used out\nof kindness to discourse him, and Pindar when he heard Pan sing one\nof the sonnets he had composed, but a little rejoice, think you? Or\nPhormio, when he thought he had treated Castor and Pollux at his house?\nOr Sophocles, when he entertained Aesculapius, as both he himself\nbelieved, and others too, that thought the same with him by reason of\nthe apparition that then happened? What opinion Hermogenes had of the\ngods is well worth the recounting in his very own words. \"For these\ngods,\" saith he, \"who know all things and can do all things, are so\nfriendly and loving to me that, because they take care of me, I never\nescape them either by night or by day, wherever I go or whatever I am\nabout. And because they know beforehand what issue everything will have,\nthey signify it to me by sending angels, voices, dreams, and presages.\"\n\nVery amiable things must those be that come to us from the gods; but\nwhen these very things come by the gods too, this is what occasions vast\nsatisfaction and unspeakable assurance, a sublimity of mind and a joy\nthat, like a smiling brightness, doth as it were gild over our good\nthings with a glory. But now those that are persuaded otherwise obstruct\nthe very sweetest part of their prosperity, and leave themselves nothing\nto turn to in their adversity; but when they are in distress, look only\nto this one refuge and port, dissolution and insensibility; just as\nif in a storm or tempest at sea, some one should, to hearten the rest,\nstand up and say to them: Gentlemen, the ship hath never a pilot in it,\nnor will Castor and Pollux come themselves to assuage the violence of\nthe beating waves or to lay the swift careers of the winds; yet I can\nassure you there is nothing at all to be dreaded in all this, for the\nvessel will be immediately swallowed up by the sea, or else will very\nquickly fall off and be dashed in pieces against the rocks. For this\nis Epicurus's way of discourse to persons under grievous distempers\nand excessive pains. Dost thou hope for any good from the gods for thy\npiety? It is thy vanity; for the blessed and incorruptible Being is not\nconstrained by either angers or kindnesses. Dost thou fancy something\nbetter after this life than what thou hast here? Thou dost but deceive\nthyself; for what is dissolved hath no sense, and that which hath no\nsense is nothing to us. Aye; but how comes it then, my good friend, that\nyou bid me eat and be merry? Why, by Jove, because he that is in a great\nstorm cannot be far off a shipwreck; and your extreme danger will soon\nland you upon Death's strand. Though yet a passenger at sea, when he\nis got off from a shattered ship, will still buoy himself up with some\nlittle hope that he may drive his body to some shore and get out by\nswimming; but now the poor soul, according to these men's philosophy,\n\n     Is ne'er more seen without the hoary main.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" v. 410.)\n\nYea, she presently evaporates, disperses, and perishes, even before the\nbody itself; so that it seems her great and excessive rejoicing must\nbe only for having learned this one sage and divine maxim, that all her\nmisfortunes will at last determine in her own destruction, dissolution,\nand annihilation.\n\nBut (said he, looking upon me) I should be impertinent, should I say\nanything upon this subject, when we have heard you but now discourse\nso fully against those that would persuade us that Epicurus's doctrine\nabout the soul renders men more disposed and better pleased to die\nthan Plato's doth. Zeuxippus therefore subjoined and said: And must our\npresent debate be left then unfinished because of that? Or shall we\nbe afraid to oppose that divine oracle to Epicurus? No, by no means, I\nsaid; and Empedocles tells us that\n\n     What's very good claims to be heard twice.\n\nTherefore we must apply ourselves again to Theon; for I think he was\npresent at our former discourse; and besides, he is a young man, and\nneeds not fear being charged by these young gentlemen with having a bad\nmemory.\n\nThen Theon, like one constrained, said: Well then, if you will\nneeds have me to go on with the discourse, I will not do as you did,\nAristodemus. For you were shy of repeating what this gentleman spoke,\nbut I shall not scruple to make use of what you have said; for I think\nindeed you did very well divide mankind into three ranks; the first of\nwicked and very bad men, the second of the vulgar and common sort, and\nthe third of good and wise men. The wicked and bad sort then, while they\ndread any kind of divine vengeance and punishment at all, and are by\nthis deterred from doing mischief, and thereby enjoy the greater quiet,\nwill live both in more pleasure and in less disturbance for it. And\nEpicurus is of opinion that the only proper means to keep men from doing\nill is the fear of punishments. So that we should cram them with more\nand more superstition still, and raise up against them terrors, chasms,\nfrights, and surmises, both from heaven and earth, if their being\namazed with such things as these will make them become the more tame and\ngentle. For it is more for their benefit to be restrained from criminal\nactions by the fear of what comes after death, than to commit them and\nthen to live in perpetual danger and fear.\n\nAs to the vulgar sort, besides their fear of what is in hell, the hope\nthey have conceived of an eternity from the tales and fictions of the\nancients, and their great desire of being, which is both the first and\nthe strongest of all, exceed in pleasure and sweet content of mind that\nchildish dread. And therefore, when they lose their children, wives,\nor friends, they would rather have them be somewhere and still remain,\nthough in misery, than that they should be quite destroyed, dissolved,\nand reduced to nothing. And they are pleased when they hear it said of\na dying person, that he goes away or departs, and such other words as\nintimate death to be the soul's remove and not destruction. And they\nsometimes speak thus:\n\n     But I'll even there think on my dearest friend;\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxii. 390.)\n\nand thus:--\n\n     What's your command to Hector? Let me know;\n     And to your dear old Priam shall I go?\n     (Euripides, \"Hecuba,\" 422.)\n\nAnd (there arising hereupon an erroneous deviation) they are the\nbetter pleased when they bury with their departed friends such arms,\nimplements, or clothes as were most familiar to them in their lifetime;\nas Minos did the Cretan flutes with Glaucus,\n\n     Made of the shanks of a dead brindled fawn.\n\nAnd if they do but imagine they either ask or desire anything of them,\nthey are glad when they give it them. Thus Periander burnt his queen's\nattire with her, because he thought she had asked for it and complained\nshe was a-cold. Nor doth an Aeacus, an Ascalaphus, or an Acheron much\ndisorder them whom they have often gratified with balls, shows, and\nmusic of every sort. But now all men shrink from that face of death\nwhich carries with it insensibility, oblivion, and extinction of\nknowledge, as being dismal, grim, and dark. And they are discomposed\nwhen they hear it said of any one, he is perished, or he is gone or he\nis no more; and they show great uneasiness when they hear such words as\nthese:--\n\n     Go to the wood-clad earth he must,\n     And there lie shrivelled into dust,\n     And ne'er more laugh or drink, or hear\n     The charming sounds of flute or lyre;\n\nand these:--\n\n     But from our lips the vital spirit fled\n     Returns no more to wake the silent dead.\n     (\"Iliad,\" ix. 408.)\n\nWherefore they must needs cut the very throats of them that shall with\nEpicurus tell them, We men were born once for all, and we cannot be born\ntwice, but our not being must last forever. For this will bring them to\nslight their present good as little, or rather indeed as nothing at all\ncompared with everlastingness, and therefore to let it pass unenjoyed\nand to become wholly negligent of virtue and action, as men disheartened\nand brought to a contempt of themselves, as being but as it were of one\nday's continuance and uncertain, and born for no considerable purpose.\nFor insensibility, dissolution, and the conceit that what hath no sense\nis nothing to us, do not at all abate the fear of death, but rather help\nto confirm it; for this very thing is it that nature most dreads,--\n\n\n     But may you all return to mould and wet,\n     (Ibid. vii. 99.)\n\nto wit, the dissolution of the soul into what is without knowledge or\nsense. Now, while Epicurus would have this to be a separation into\natoms and void, he doth but further cut off all hope of immortality; to\ncompass which (I can scarce refrain from saying) all men and women would\nbe well contented to be worried by Cerberus, and to carry water into\nthe tub full of holes, so they might but continue in being and not be\nexterminated. Though (as I said before) there are not very many that\nstand in fear of these things, they being but the tenets of old women\nand the fabulous stories of mothers and nurses,--and even they that do\nfear them yet believe that certain rites of initiation and purgation\nwill relieve them, by which after they are cleansed they shall play and\ndance in hell forever, in company with those that have the privilege of\na bright light, clear air, and the use of speech,--yet to be deprived of\nliving disturbs all both young and old. We\n\n     Impatient love the light that shines on earth,\n     (Euripides, \"Hippolytus,\" 193)\n\nas Euripides saith. Nor are we easy or without regret when we hear\nthis:--\n\n     Him speaking thus th' eternal brightness leaves,\n     Where night the wearied steeds of day receives.\n\nAnd therefore it is very plain that with the belief of immortality they\ntake away the sweetest and greatest hopes the vulgar sort have. And what\nshall we then think they take away from the good and those that have led\npious and just lives, who expect no ill after dying, but on the contrary\nmost glorious and divine things? For, in the first place, athletes\nare not used to receive the garland before they have performed their\nexercises, but after they have contested and proved victorious; in like\nmanner is it with those that are persuaded that good men have the prize\nof their conquests after this life is ended; it is marvellous to think\nto what a pitch of grandeur their virtue raises their spirits upon the\ncontemplation of those hopes, among the which this is one, that they\nshall one day see those men that are now insolent by reason of their\nwealth and power, and that foolishly flout at their betters, undergo\njust punishment. In the next place, none of the lovers of truth and the\ncontemplation of being have here their fill of them; they having but a\nwatery and puddled reason to speculate with, as it were, through the\nfog and mist of the body; and yet they still look upwards like birds,\nas ready to take their flight to the spacious and bright region, and\nendeavor to make their souls expedite and light from things mortal,\nusing philosophy as a study for death. Thus I account death a truly\ngreat and accomplished good thing; the soul being to live there a\nreal life, which here lives not a waking life, but suffers things most\nresembling dreams. If then (as Epicurus saith) the remembrance of a\ndead friend be a thing every way complacent; we may easily from thence\nimagine how great a joy they deprive themselves of who think they do but\nembrace and pursue the phantoms and shades of their deceased familiars,\nthat have in them neither knowledge nor sense, but who never expect\nto be with them again, or to see their dear father and dear mother and\nsweet wife, nor have any hopes of that familiarity and dear converse\nthey have that think of the soul with Pythagoras, Plato, and Homer. Now\nwhat their sort of passion is like to was hinted at by Homer, when he\nthrew into the midst of the soldiers, as they were engaged, the shade\nof Aeneas, as if he had been dead, and afterwards again presented his\nfriends with him himself,\n\n     Coming alive and well, as brisk as ever;\n\nat which, he saith,\n\n     They all were overjoyed.\n     (\"Iliad,\" v. 514 and 515)\n\nAnd should not we then,--when reason shows us that a real converse with\npersons departed this life may be had, and that he that loves may both\nfeel and be with the party that affects and loves him,--relinquish these\nmen that cannot so much as cast off all those airy shades and outside\nbarks for which they are all their time in lamentation and fresh\nafflictions?\n\nMoreover, they that look upon death as the commencement of another and\nbetter life, if they enjoy good things, are the better pleased with\nthem, as expecting much greater hereafter; but if they have not things\nhere to their minds, they do not much grumble at it, but the hopes of\nthose good and excellent things that are after death contain in them\nsuch ineffable pleasures and expectances, that they wipe off and wholly\nobliterate every defect and every offence from the mind, which, as on\na road or rather indeed in a short deviation out of the road, bears\nwhatever befalls it with great ease and indifference. But now, as to\nthose to whom life ends in insensibility and dissolution,--death brings\nto them no removal of evils, though it is afflicting in both conditions,\nyet is it more so to those that live prosperously than to such as\nundergo adversity? For it cuts the latter but from an uncertain hope of\ndoing better hereafter; but it deprives the former of a certain good, to\nwit, their pleasurable living. And as those medicinal potions that are\nnot grateful to the palate but yet necessary give sick men ease, but\nrake and hurt the well; just so, in my opinion, doth the philosophy\nof Epicurus; it promises to those that live miserably no happiness in\ndeath, and to those that do well an utter extinction and dissolution of\nthe mind, while it quite obstructs the comfort and solace of the grave\nand wise and those that abound with good things, by throwing them down\nfrom a happy living into a deprivation of both life and being. From\nhence then it is manifest, that the contemplation of the loss of good\nthings will afflict us in as great a measure as either the firm hope or\npresent enjoyment of them delights us.\n\nYea, themselves tell us, that the thought of future dissolution leaves\nthem one most assured and complacent good, freedom from anxious surmises\nof incessant and endless evils, and that Epicurus's doctrine effects\nthis by stopping the fear of death through the soul's dissolution. If\nthen deliverance from the expectation of infinite evils be a matter of\ngreatest complacence, how comes it not to be afflictive to be bereft\nof eternal good things and to miss of the highest and most consummate\nfelicity? For not to be can be good for neither condition, but is on the\ncontrary both against nature and ungrateful to all that have a being.\nBut those being eased of the evils of life through the evils of death\nhave, it is very true, the want of sense to comfort them, while they, as\nit were, make their escape from life. But, on the other hand, they that\nchange from good things to nothing seem to me to have the most dismaying\nend of all, it putting a period to their happiness. For Nature doth not\nfear insensibility as the entrance upon some new thing, but because it\nis the privation of our present good things. For to declare that the\ndestruction of all that we call ours toucheth us not is untrue for it\ntoucheth us already by the very anticipation. And insensibility afflicts\nnot those that are not, but those that are, when they think what\ndamage they shall sustain by it in the loss of their being and in being\nsuffered never to emerge from nothingness. Wherefore it is neither\nthe dog Cerberus nor the river Cocytus that has made our fear of death\nboundless; but the threatened danger of not being, representing it as\nimpossible for such as are once extinct to shift back again into being.\nFor we cannot be born twice, and our not being must last forever; as\nEpicurus speaks. For if our end be in not being, and that be infinite\nand unalterable, then hath privation of good found out an eternal evil,\nto wit, a never ending insensibleness. Herodotus was much wiser, when he\nsaid that God, having given men a taste of the delights of life, seems\nto be envious, (Herodotus, vii. 46) and especially to those that conceit\nthemselves happy, to whom pleasure is but a bait for sorrow, they being\nbut permitted to taste of what they must be deprived of. For what solace\nor fruition or exultation would not the perpetual injected thought of\nthe soul's being dispersed into infinity, as into a certain huge and\nvast ocean, extinguish and quell in those that found their amiable good\nand beatitude in pleasure? But if it be true (as Epicurus thinks it is)\nthat most men die in very acute pain, then is the fear of death in all\nrespects inconsolable; it bringing us through evils unto a deprivation\nof good.\n\nAnd yet they are never wearied with their brawling and dunning of all\npersons to take the escape of evil for a good, no longer to repute\nprivation of good for an evil. But they still confess what we have\nasserted, that death hath in it nothing of either good hope or solace,\nbut that all that is complacent and good is then wholly extinguished;\nat which time those men look for many amiable, great, and divine things,\nthat conceive the minds of men to be unperishable and immortal, or at\nleast to go about in certain long revolutions of times, being one while\nupon earth and another while in heaven, until they are at last dissolved\nwith the universe and then, together with the sun and moon, sublimed\ninto an intellective fire. So large a field and one of so great\npleasures Epicurus wholly cuts off, when he destroys (as hath been\nsaid) the hopes and graces we should derive from the gods, and by that\nextinguishes both in our speculative capacity the desire of knowledge,\nand in our active the love of glory, and confines and abases our nature\nto a poor narrow thing, and that not cleanly neither, to wit, the\ncontent the mind receives by the body, as if it were capable of no\nhigher good than the escape of evil.\n\n\nEND OF ONE--------\n\n\n\n\nTHAT A PHILOSOPHER OUGHT CHIEFLY TO CONVERSE WITH GREAT MEN.\n\nThe resolution which you have taken to enter into the friendship\nand familiarity of Sorcanus, that by the frequent opportunities of\nconversing with him you may cultivate and improve a soil which gives\nsuch early promises of a plentiful harvest, is an undertaking which will\nnot only oblige his relations and friends, but rebound very much to the\nadvantage of the public; and (notwithstanding the peevish censures of\nsome morose or ignorant people) it is so far from being an argument\nof an aspiring vainglorious temper, that it shows you to be a lover of\nvirtue and good manners, and a zealous promoter of the common interest\nof mankind.\n\nThey themselves are rather to be accused of an indirect but more\nvehement sort of ambition, who would not upon any terms be found in\nthe company or so much as be seen to give a civil salute to a person\nof quality. For how unreasonable would it be to enforce a well-disposed\nyoung gentleman, and one who needs the direction of a wise governor, to\nsuch complaints as these: \"Would that I might become from a Pericles or\na Cato to a cobbler like Simon or a grammarian like Dionysius, that I\nmight like them talk with such a man as Socrates, and sit by him.\"\n\nSo far, I am sure, was Aristo of Chios from being of their humor,\nthat when he was censured for exposing and prostituting the dignity of\nphilosophy by his freedom to all comers, he answered, that he could wish\nthat Nature had given understanding to wild beasts, that they too might\nbe capable of being his hearers. Shall we then deny that privilege to\nmen of interest and power, which this good man would have communicated\n(if it had been possible) to the brute beasts? But these men have\ntaken a false notion of philosophy, they make it much like the art of\nstatuary, whose business it is to carve out a lifeless image in the most\nexact figure and proportion, and then to raise it upon its pedestal,\nwhere it is to continue forever. The true philosophy is of a quite\ndifferent nature; it is a spring and principle of motion wherever it\ncomes; it makes men active and industrious, it sets every wheel and\nfaculty a-going, it stores our minds with axioms and rules by which to\nmake a sound judgment, it determines the will to the choice of what\nis honorable and just; and it wings all our faculties to the swiftest\nprosecution of it. It is accompanied with an elevation and nobleness of\nmind, joined with a coolness and sweetness of behavior, and backed\nwith a becoming assurance and inflexible resolution. And from this\ndiffusiveness of the nature of good it follows, that the best and most\naccomplished men are inclined to converse with persons of the highest\ncondition. Indeed a physician if he have any good nature and sense of\nhonor, would be more ready to cure an eye which is to see and to watch\nfor a great many thousands, than that of a private person; how much more\nthen ought a philosopher to form and fashion, to rectify and cure the\nsoul of such a one, who is (if I may so express it) to inform the body\npolitic,--who is to think and understand for so many others, to be in\nso great measure the rule of reason, the standard of law, and model of\nbehavior, by which all the rest will square and direct their actions?\nSuppose a man to have a talent at finding out springs and contriving of\naqueducts (a piece of skill for which Hercules and other of the ancients\nare much celebrated in history), surely he could not so satisfactorily\nemploy himself in sinking a well or deriving water to some private\nseat or contemptible cottage, as in supplying conduits to some fair and\npopulous city, in relieving an army just perishing with thirst, or in\nrefreshing and adorning with fountains and cool streams the beautiful\ngardens of some glorious monarch. There is a passage of Homer very\npertinent to this purpose, in which he calls Minos [Greek text], which,\nas Plato interprets it, signifies THE DISCIPLE AND COMPANION OF JUPITER.\nFor it were beneath his dignity indeed to teach private men, such as\ncare only for a family or indulge their useless speculations; but\nkings are scholars worthy the tuition of a god, who, when they are well\nadvised, just, good, and magnanimous, never fail to procure the peace\nand prosperity of all their subjects. The naturalists tell us that the\neryngium hath such a property with it, that if one of the flock do but\ntaste it, all the rest will stand stock still in the same place till the\nshepherd hath taken it out of its mouth. Such swiftness of action does\nit have, pervading and inserting itself in everything near it, as if it\nwere fire. The effects of philosophy, however, are different according\nto the difference of inclinations in men. If indeed it lights on one who\nloves a dull and inactive sort of life, that makes himself the centre\nand the little conveniences of life the circumference of all his\nthoughts, such a one does contract the sphere of her activity, so that\nhaving only made easy and comfortable the life of a single person, it\nfails and dies with him; but when it finds a man of a ruling genius,\none fitted for conversation and able to grapple with the difficulties\nof public business, if it once possess him with principles of honesty,\nhonor, and religion, it takes a compendious method, by doing good to\none, to oblige a great part of mankind. Such was the effect of the\nintercourse of Anaxagoras with Pericles, of Plato with Dion, and of\nPythagoras with the principal statesmen of all Italy. Cato himself took\na voyage, when he had the concern of an expedition lying upon him, to\nsee and hear Athenodorus; and Scipio sent for Panaetius, when he was\ncommissioned by the senate \"to take a survey alike of the habits of men\ngood and bad,\" (\"Odyssey,\" xvii. 487.) as Posidonius says. Now what\na pretty sort of return would it have been in Panaetius to send word\nback,--\"If indeed you were in a private capacity, John a Nokes or John\na Stiles, that had a mind to get into some obscure corner or cell, to\nstate cases and resolve syllogisms, I should very gladly have accepted\nyour invitation; but now, because you are the son of Paulus AEmilius who\nwas twice consul, and grandson of that Scipio who was surnamed from\nhis conquest of Hannibal and Africa, I cannot with honor hold any\nconversation with you!\"\n\nThe objections which they bring from the two kinds of discourse, one of\nwhich is mental, the other like the gift of Mercury expressed in words\nor interpretative of the former, are so frivolous, that they are best\nanswered by laughter or silence; and we may quote the old saying, \"I\nknew this before Theognis arose.\" However, thus much shall be added,\nthat the end of them both is friendship,--in the first case with\nourselves, in the second with another. For he that hath attained to\nvirtue by the methods of philosophy hath his mind all in tune and good\ntemper; he is not struck with those reproaches of conscience, which\ncause the acutest sense of pain and are the natural punishments of\nour follies; but he enjoys (the great prerogative of a good man) to be\nalways easy and in amity with himself.\n\n     No factious lusts reason's just power control,\n     Nor kindle civil discord in his soul.\n\nHis passion does not stand in defiance to his reason, nor do his\nreasonings cross and thwart one the other, but he is always consistent\nwith himself. But the very joys of wicked men are tumultuary and\nconfused, like those who dwell in the borders of two great empires at\nvariance, always insecure, and in perpetual alarms; whilst a good man\nenjoys an uninterrupted peace and serenity of mind, which excels the\nother not only in duration, but in sense of pleasure too. As for the\nother sort of converse, that which consists in expression of itself to\nothers, Pindar says very well, that it was not mercenary in old time,\nnor indeed is it so now; but by the baseness and ambition of a few it\nis made use of to serve their poor secular interests. For if the poets\nrepresent Venus herself as much offended with those who make a trade and\ntraffic of the passion of love, how much more reasonably may we suppose\nthat Urania and Clio and Calliope have an indignation against those who\nset learning and philosophy to sale? Certainly the gifts and endowments\nof the Muses should be privileged from such mean considerations.\n\nIf indeed some have made fame and reputation one of the ends of their\nstudies, they used it only as an instrument to get friends; since we\nfind by common observation that men only praise those whom they love. If\nthey sought its own praise, they were as much mistaken as Ixion when he\nembraced a cloud instead of Juno; for there is nothing so fleeting, so\nchangeable, and so inconstant as popular applause; it is but a pompous\nshadow, and hath no manner of solidity and duration in it. But a wise\nman, if he design to engage in business and matters of state, will\nso far aim at fame and popularity as that he may be better enabled to\nbenefit others; for it is a difficult and very unpleasant task to do\ngood to those who are disaffected to our persons. It is the good opinion\nmen have of us which disposes men to give credit to our doctrine. As\nlight is a greater good to those who see others by it than to those\nwho only are seen, so is honor of a greater benefit to those who are\nsensible of it than to those whose glory is admired. But even one who\nwithdraws himself from the noise of the world, who loves privacy and\nindulges his own thoughts, will show that respect to the good word of\nthe people which Hippolytus did to Venus,--though he abstain from\nher mysteries, he will pay his devotions at a distance; (Euripides,\n\"Hippolytus,\" 102.) but he will not be so cynical and sullen as not to\nhear with gladness the commendations of virtuous men like himself; he\nwill neither engage himself in a restless pursuit of wealth, interest,\nor honor, nor will he on the other hand be so rustic and insensible as\nto refuse them in a moderate degree, when they fairly come in his way;\nin like manner he will not court and follow handsome and beautiful\nyouth, but will rather choose such as are of a teachable disposition,\nof a gentle behavior, and lovers of learning. The charms and graces of\nyouth will not make a philosopher shy of their conversation, when\nthe endowments of their minds are answerable to the features of their\nbodies. The case is the same when greatness of place and fortune concur\nwith a well disposed person; he will not therefore forbear loving and\nrespecting such a one, nor be afraid of the name of a courtier, nor\nthink it a curse that such attendance and dependence should be his fate.\n\n     They that try most Dame Venus to despise\n     Do sin as much as they who her most prize.\n    (From the \"Veiled Hippolytus\" of Euripides, Frag. 431.)\n\nThe application is easy to the matter in hand.\n\nA philosopher therefore, if he is of a retired humor, will not avoid\nsuch persons; while one who generously designs his studies for the\npublic advantage will cheerfully embrace their advances of friendship,\nwill not bore them to hear him, will lay aside his sophistic terms and\ndistinctions, and will rejoice to discourse and pass his time with them\nwhen they are disposed.\n\n     I plough the wide Berecynthian fields,\n     Full six days' journey long,\n     (From the \"Niobe\" of Aechylus, Frag. 153.)\n\nsays one boastingly in the poet; the same man, if he were as much a\nlover of mankind as of husbandry, would much rather bestow his pains on\nsuch a farm, the fruits of which would serve a great number, than to be\nalways dressing the olive-yard of some cynical malcontent, which, when\nall was done, would scarce yield oil enough to dress a salad or to\nsupply his lamp in the long winter evenings. Epicurus himself, who\nplaces happiness in the profoundest quiet and sluggish inactivity, as\nthe only secure harbor from the storms of this troublesome world, could\nnot but confess that it is both more noble and delightful to do than to\nreceive a kindness; (Almost the same words with those of our Saviour, It\nis more blessed to give than to receive. So that a man can scarcely be\na true Epicurean without practising some of the maxims of Christianity.)\nfor there is nothing which produces so humane and genuine a sort of\npleasure as that of doing good. He who gave the names to the three\nGraces was intelligent, for they all mean delectation and joy, (Aglaia,\nEuphrosyne, and Thalia.) and these feelings surely are far greater and\npurer in the giver. This is so evidently true, that we all receive good\nturns blushing and with some confusion, but we are always gay and well\npleased when we are conferring one.\n\nIf then it is so pleasant to do good to a few, how are their hearts\ndilated with joy who are benefactors to whole cities, provinces, and\nkingdoms? And such benefactors are they who instil good principles into\nthose upon whom so many millions do depend. On the other hand, those\nwho debauch the minds of great men--as sycophants, false informers, and\nflatterers worse than both, manifestly do--are the centre of all the\ncurses of a nation, as men not only infuse deadly poison into the\ncistern of a private house, but into the public springs of which so many\nthousands are to drink. The people therefore laughed at the parasites\nof Callias, whom, as Eupolis says, neither with fire nor brass nor steel\ncould prevent from supping with him; but as for the favorites of those\nexecrable tyrants Apollodorus, Phalaris, and Dionysius, they racked\nthem, they flayed them alive, they roasted them at slow fires, looked on\nthem as the very pests of society and disgraces of human nature; for to\ndebauch a simple person is indeed an ill thing, but to corrupt a prince\nis an infinite mischief. In like manner, he who instructs an ordinary\nman makes him to pass his life decently and with comfort; but he\nwho instructs a prince, by correcting his errors and clearing his\nunderstanding, is a philosopher for the public, by rectifying the very\nmould and model by which whole nations are formed and regulated. It is\nthe custom of all nations to pay a peculiar honor and deference to their\npriests; and the reason of it is, because they do not only pray for good\nthings for themselves, their own families and friends, but for whole\ncommunities, for the whole state of mankind. Yet we are not so fond as\nto think that the priests make the gods to be givers of good things,\nor inspire a vein of beneficence into them; but they only make their\nsupplications to a being which of itself is inclinable to answer\ntheir requests. But in this a good tutor hath the privilege above the\npriests,--he effectually renders a prince more disposed to actions\nof justice, of moderation, and mercy, and therefore hath a greater\nsatisfaction of mind when he reflects upon it.\n\nFor my own part, I cannot but think that an ordinary mechanic--for\ninstance, a maker of musical instruments--would be much more attentive\nand pleased at his work, and if his harp would be touched by the famous\nAmphion, and in his hand to serve for the builder of Thebes, or if that\nThales had bespoke it, who was so great a master by the force of\nhis music he pacified a popular tumult amongst the Lacedaemonians. A\ngood-natured shipwright would ply his work more heartily, if he were\nconstructing the rudder for the admiral galley of Themistocles when\nhe fought for the liberty of Greece, or of Pompey when he went on his\nexpedition against the pirates: what ecstasy of delight then must\na philosopher be in, when he reflects that his scholar is a man of\nauthority, a prince or great potentate, that he is employed in so public\na work, giving laws to him who is to give laws to a whole nation, who\nis to punish vice, and to reward the virtuous with riches and honor? The\nbuilder of the ARGO certainly would have been mightily pleased, if he\nhad known what noble mariners were to row in his ship, and that at last\nshe should be translated into heaven; and a carpenter would not be half\nso much pleased to make a chariot or plough, as to cut the tablets on\nwhich Solon's laws were to be engraved. In like manner the discourses\nand rules of philosophy, being once deeply stamped and imprinted on the\nminds of great personages, will stick so close, that the prince shall\nseem no other than justice incarnate and animated law. This was the\ndesign of Plato's voyage into Sicily,--he hoped that the lectures of\nhis philosophy would serve for laws to Dionysius, and bring his affairs\nagain into a good posture. But the soul of that unfortunate prince was\nlike paper scribbled all over with the characters of vice; its piercing\nand corroding quality had stained quite through, and sunk into the very\nsubstance of his soul. Whereas, such persons must be taken when they are\non the run, if they are to absorb useful discourses.\n\n\nEND OF TWO--------\n\n\n\n\nSENTIMENTS CONCERNING NATURE WITH WHICH PHILOSOPHERS WERE DELIGHTED\n\n\n\n\nBOOK I.\n\n\nIt being our determination to discourse of Natural Philosophy, we judge\nit necessary, in the first place and chiefly, to divide the body of\nphilosophy into its proper members, so that we may know what is that\nwhich is called philosophy, and what part of it is physical, or the\nexplanation of natural things. The Stoics affirm that wisdom is the\nknowledge of things human and divine; that philosophy is the pursuit of\nthat art which is convenient to this knowledge; that virtue is the sole\nand sovereign art which is thus convenient; and this distributes itself\ninto three general parts--natural, moral, and logical. By which just\nreason (they say) philosophy is tripartite; of which one natural, the\nother moral, the third logical. The natural when our inquiries are\nconcerning the world and all things contained in it; the ethical is the\nemployment of our minds in those things which concern the manners of\nman's life; the logical (which they also call dialectical) regulates our\nconversation with others in speaking. Aristotle, Theophrastus, and after\nthem almost all the Peripatetics give the same division of philosophy.\nIt is absolutely requisite that the complete person he contemplator of\nthings which have a being, and the practiser of those thing which are\ndecent; and this easily appears by the following instances. If the\nquestion be proposed, whether the sun, which is so conspicuous to us, be\ninformed of a soul or inanimate, he that makes this disquisition is the\nthinking man; for he proceeds no farther than to consider the nature of\nthat thing which is proposed. Likewise, if the question be propounded,\nwhether the world be infinite, or whether beyond the system of this\nworld there is any real being, all these things are the objects about\nwhich the understanding of man is conversant.\n\nBut if these be the questions,--what measures must be taken to compose\nthe well-ordered life of man, what are the best methods to govern and\neducate children, or what are the exact rules whereby sovereigns may\ncommand and establish laws,--all these queries are proposed for the sole\nend of action, and the man skilled therein is the moral and practical\nman.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I. WHAT IS NATURE?\n\nSince we have undertaken to make a diligent search into Nature, I cannot\nbut conclude it necessary to declare what Nature is. It is very absurd\nto attempt a discourse of the essence of natural things, and not to\nunderstand what is the power and sphere of Nature. If Aristotle be\ncredited, Nature is the principle of motion and rest, in that thing in\nwhich it exists as a principle and not by accident. For all things that\nare conspicuous to our eyes, which are neither fortuitous nor necessary,\nnor have a divine original, nor acknowledge any such like cause, are\ncalled natural and enjoy their proper nature. Of this sort are earth,\nfire, water, air, plants, animals; to these may be added all things\nproduced from them, such as showers, hail, thunders, hurricanes, and\nwinds. All these confess they had a beginning, none of these were from\neternity, but had something as the origin of them; and likewise animals\nand plants have a principle whence they are produced. But Nature, which\nin all these things hath the priority, is not only the principle of\nmotion but of repose; whatsoever enjoys the principle of motion, the\nsame has a possibility to find a dissolution. Therefore on this account\nit is that Nature is the principle of motion and rest.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II. WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A PRINCIPLE AND AN ELEMENT?\n\nThe followers of Aristotle and Plato conclude that elements are\ndiscriminated from principles. Thales the Milesian supposeth that a\nprinciple and the elements are one and the same thing, but it is evident\nthat they vastly differ one from another. For the elements are\nthings compounded; but we do pronounce that principles admit not of a\ncomposition, nor are the effects of any other being. Those which we call\nelements are earth, water, air, and fire. But we call those principles\nwhich have nothing prior to them out of which they are produced; for\notherwise not these themselves, but rather those things whereof they are\nproduced, would be the principles. Now there are some things which have\na pre-existence to earth and water, from which they are begotten; to\nwit, matter, which is without form or shape; then form, which we call\n[Greek omitted] (actuality); and lastly, privation. Thales therefore\nis most in error, by affirming that water is both an element and a\nprinciple.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III. WHAT ARE PRINCIPLES?\n\nThales the Milesian doth affirm that water is the principle from whence\nall things in the universe spring. This person appears to be the first\nof philosophers; from him the Ionic sect took its denomination, for\nthere are many families and successions amongst philosophers. After he\nhad professed philosophy in Egypt, when he was very old, he returned to\nMiletus. He pronounced, that all things had their original from water,\nand into water all things are resolved. His first ground was, that\nwhatsoever was the prolific seed of all animals was a principle, and\nthat is moist; so that it is probable that all things receive their\noriginal from humidity. His second reason was, that all plants are\nnourished and fructified by that thing which is moist, of which being\ndeprived they wither away. Thirdly, that that fire of which the sun and\nstars are made is nourished by watery exhalations,--yea, and the world\nitself; which moved Homer to sing that the generation of it was from\nwater:--\n\n                      The ocean is\n     Of all things the kind genesis.\n     (Iliad, xiv. 246.)\n\nAnaximander, who himself was a Milesian, assigns the principle of all\nthings to the Infinite, from whence all things flow, and into the same\nare corrupted; hence it is that infinite worlds are framed, and those\ndissolve again into that whence they have their origin. And thus he\nfarther proceeds, For what other reason is there of an Infinite but\nthis, that there may be nothing deficient as to the generation or\nsubsistence of what is in Nature? There is his error, that he doth\nnot acquaint us what this Infinite is, whether it be air, or water, or\nearth, or any other such like body. Besides he is mistaken, in that,\ngiving us the material cause, he is silent as to the efficient cause of\nbeings; for this thing which he makes his Infinite can be nothing but\nmatter; but operation cannot come about in the sphere of matter, except\nan efficient cause be annexed.\n\nAnaximenes his fellow-citizen pronounceth, that air is the principle of\nall beings; from it all receive their original, and into it all\nreturn. He affirms that our soul is nothing but air; it is that which\nconstitutes and preserves; the whole world is invested with spirit\nand air. For spirit and air are synonymous. This person is in this\ndeficient, in that he concludes that of pure air, which is a simple\nbody and is made of one only form, all animals are composed. It is not\npossible to think that a single principle should be the matter of all\nthings, from whence they receive their subsistence; besides this there\nmust be an operating cause. Silver (for example) is not of itself\nsufficient to frame a drinking cup; an operator also is required, which\nis the silversmith. The like may be applied to vessels made of wood,\nbrass, or any other material.\n\nAnaxagoras the Clazomenian asserted Homoeomeries (or parts similar or\nhomogeneous) to be the original cause of all beings; it seemed to him\nimpossible that anything could arise of nothing or be dissolved into\nnothing. Let us therefore instance in nourishment, which appears simple\nand uniform, such as bread which we owe to Ceres and water which we\ndrink. Of this very nutriment, our hair, our veins, our arteries,\nnerves, bones, and all our other parts are nourished. These things\nthus being performed, it must be granted that the nourishment which\nis received by us contains all those things by which these of us are\nproduced. In it there are those particles which are producers of blood,\nbones, nerves, and all other parts; these particles (he thought) reason\ndiscovers for us. For it is not necessary that we should reduce all\nthings under the objects of sense; for bread and water are fitted to\nthe senses, yet in them there are those particles latent which are\ndiscoverable only by reason. It being therefore plain that there are\nparticles in the nourishment similar to what is produced by it, he\nterms these homogeneous parts, averring that they are the principles\nof beings. Matter is according to him these similar parts, and the\nefficient cause is a Mind, which orders all things that have an\nexistence. Thus he begins his discourse: \"All things were confused one\namong another; but Mind divided and brought them to order.\" In this he\nis to be commended, that he yokes together matter and an intellectual\nagent.\n\nArchelaus the son of Apollodorus, the Athenian, pronounceth, that the\nprinciples of all things have their origin from an infinite air rarefied\nor condensed. Air rarefied is fire, condensed is water.\n\nThese philosophers, the followers of Thales, succeeding one another,\nmade up that sect which takes to itself the denomination of the Ionic.\n\nPythagoras the Samian, the son of Mnesarchus, from another origin\ndeduces the principles of all things; it was he who first called\nphilosophy by its name. He thought the first principles to be numbers,\nand those symmetries in them which he styles harmonies; and the\ncomposition of both he terms elements, called geometrical. Again, he\nplaces unity and the indefinite binary number amongst the principles.\nOne of these principles ends in an efficient and forming cause, which is\nMind, and that is God; the other to the passive and material part, and\nthat is the visible world. Moreover, the nature of number (he saith)\nconsists in the ten; for all people, whether Grecians or barbarians,\nreckon from one to ten, and thence return to one again. Farther he avers\nthe virtue of ten consists in the quaternion; the reason whereof is\nthis,--if any person start from one, and add numbers so as to take in\nthe quaternary, he shall complete the number ten; if he passes the four,\nhe shall go beyond the ten; for one, two, three, and four being added\nup together make ten. The nature of numbers, therefore, if we regard\nthe units, abideth in the ten; but if we regard its power, in the four.\nTherefore the Pythagoreans say that their most sacred oath is by that\ngod who delivered to them the quaternary.\n\n     By th' founder of the sacred number four,\n     Eternal Nature's font and source, they swore.\n\nOf this number the soul of man is composed; for mind, knowledge,\nopinion, and sense are the four that complete the soul, from which all\nsciences, all arts, all rational faculties derive themselves. For what\nour mind perceives, it perceives after the manner of a thing that is\none, the soul itself being a unity; as for instance, a multitude of\npersons are not the object of our sense nor are comprehended by us, for\nthey are infinite; our understanding gives the general concept of A MAN,\nin which all individuals agree. The number of individuals is infinite;\nthe generic or specific nature of all being is a unit, or to be\napprehended as one only thing; from this one conception we give the\ngenuine measures of all existence, and therefore we affirm that a\ncertain class of beings are rational and discoursive. But when we come\nto give the nature of a horse, it is that animal which neighs; and this\nbeing common to all horses, it is manifest that the understanding, which\nhath such like conceptions, is in its nature unity. It follows that\nthe number called the infinite binary must be science; in every\ndemonstration or belief belonging to science, and in every syllogism, we\ndraw that conclusion which is in dispute from those propositions which\nare by all granted, by which means another proposition is obtained from\nthe premises. The comprehension of these we call knowledge; for which\nreason science is the binary number. But opinion is the ternary; for\nthat rationally follows from comprehension. The objects of opinion are\nmany things, and the ternary number denotes a multitude, as \"Thrice\nhappy Grecians\"; for which reason Pythagoras admits the ternary. This\nsect of philosophers is called the Italic, by reason Pythagoras started\nhis school in Italy; his hatred of the tyranny of Polycrates enforced\nhim to abandon his native country Samos.\n\nHeraclitus and Hippasus of Metapontum suppose that fire gives the\norigination to all beings, that they all flow from fire, and in fire\nthey all conclude; for of fire when first quenched the world was\nconstituted. The first part of the world, being most condensed and\ncontracted within itself, made the earth; but part of that earth being\nloosened and made thin by fire, water was produced; afterwards this\nwater being exhaled and rarefied into vapors became air; after all this\nthe world itself, and all other corporeal beings, shall be dissolved by\nfire in the universal conflagration. By them therefore it appears that\nfire is what gives beginning to all things, and is that in which all\nthings receive their period.\n\nEpicurus the son of Neocles, the Athenian, his philosophical sentiments\nbeing the same with those of Democritus, affirms that the principles of\nall being are bodies which are only perceptible by reason; they admit\nnot of a vacuity, nor of any original, but being of a self-existence are\neternal and incorruptible; they are not liable to any diminution,\nthey are indestructible, nor is it possible for them to receive any\ntransformation of parts, or admit of any alterations; of these reason is\nonly the discoverer; they are in a perpetual motion in vacuity, and by\nmeans of the empty space; for the vacuum itself is infinite, and the\nbodies that move in it are infinite. Those bodies acknowledge these\nthree accidents, figure, magnitude, and gravity. Democritus acknowledged\nbut two, magnitude and figure. Epicurus added the third, to wit,\ngravity; for he pronounced that it is necessary that bodies receive\ntheir motion from that impression which springs from gravity,\notherwise they could not be moved. The figures of atoms cannot be\nincomprehensible, but they are not infinite. These figures are neither\nhooked nor trident-shaped nor ring-shaped, such figures as these being\nexposed to collision; but the atoms are impassible, impenetrable; they\nhave indeed figures of their own, which are conceived only by reason.\nIt is called an atom, by reason not of its smallness but of its\nindivisibility; in it no vacuity, no passible affection is to be found.\nAnd that there is an atom is perfectly clear; for there are elements\nwhich have a perpetual duration, and there are animals which admit of a\nvacuity, and there is a unity.\n\n\nEmpedocles the Agrigentine, the son of Meton, affirms that there are\nfour elements, fire, air, earth, and water, and two powers which bear\nthe greatest command in nature, concord and discord, of which one is the\nunion, the other the division of beings. Thus he sings,\n\n     Hear first the four roots of all created things:--\n\n     Bright shining Jove, Juno that beareth life,\n     Pluto beneath the earth, and Nestis who\n     Doth with her tears water the human fount.\n\nBy Jupiter he understands fire and ether, by Juno that gives life he\nmeans the air, by Pluto the earth, by Nestis and the spring of all\nmortals (as it were) seed and water.\n\nSocrates the son of Sophroniscus, and Plato son of Ariston, both natives\nof Athens, entertain the same opinion concerning the universe; for\nthey suppose three principles, God, matter, and the idea. God is the\nuniversal understanding; matter is that which is the first substratum,\naccommodated for the generation and corruption of beings; the idea is\nan incorporeal essence, existing in the cogitations and apprehensions of\nGod; for God is the soul and mind of the world.\n\nAristotle the son of Nichomachus, the Stagirite, constitutes three\nprinciples; Entelecheia (which is the same with form), matter, and\nprivation. He acknowledges four elements, and adds a certain fifth body,\nwhich is ethereal and not obnoxious to mutation.\n\nZeno son of Mnaseas, the native of Citium, avers these to be principles,\nGod and matter, the first of which is the efficient cause, the other the\npassible and receptive. Four more elements he likewise confesses.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV. HOW WAS THIS WORLD COMPOSED IN THAT ORDER AND AFTER THAT\nMANNER IT IS?\n\nThe world being broken and confused, after this manner it was reduced\ninto figure and composure as now it is. The insectible bodies or\natoms, by a wild and fortuitous motion, without any governing power,\nincessantly and swiftly were hurried one amongst another, many bodies\nbeing jumbled together; upon this account they have a diversity in the\nfigures and magnitude. These therefore being so jumbled together, those\nbodies which were the greatest and heaviest sank into the lowest place;\nthey that were of a lesser magnitude, being round, smooth, and slippery,\nthese meeting with those heavier bodies were easily broken into pieces,\nand were carried into higher places. But when that force whereby\nthese variously particles figured particles fought with and struck one\nanother, and forced the lighter upwards, did cease, and there was no\nfarther power left to drive them into superior regions, yet they were\nwholly hindered from descending downwards, and were compelled to reside\nin those places capable to receive them; and these were the heavenly\nspaces, unto which a multitude of these small bodies were hurled, and\nthese being thus shivered fell into coherence and mutual embraces,\nand by this means the heaven was produced. Then a various and great\nmultitude of atoms enjoying the same nature, as it is before asserted,\nbeing hurried aloft, did form the stars. The multitude of these exhaled\nbodies, having struck and broke the air in shivers, forced a passage\nthrough it; this being turned into wind invested the stars, as it\nmoved, and whirled them about, by which means to this present time that\ncirculary motion which these stars have in the heavens is maintained.\nMuch after the same manner the earth was made; for by those little\nparticles whose gravity made them to reside in the lower places the\nearth was formed. The heaven, fire, and air were constituted of those\nparticles which were carried aloft. But a great deal of matter remaining\nin the earth, this being condensed by the driving of the winds and the\nair from the stars, every little part and form of it was compressed,\nwhich created the element of water; but this being fluidly disposed did\nrun into those places which were hollow, and these places were those\nthat were capable to receive and protect it; or the water, subsisting\nby itself, did make the lower places hollow. After this manner the\nprincipal parts of the world were constituted.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V. WHETHER THE UNIVERSE IS ONE SINGLE THING.\n\nThe Stoics pronounce that the world is one thing, and this they say is\nthe universe and is corporeal.\n\nBut Empedocles's opinion is, that the world is one; yet by no means the\nsystem of this world must be styled the universe, but that it is a small\npart of it, and the remainder is inactive matter.\n\nWhat to Plato seems the truest he thus declares, that there is one\nworld, and that world is the universe; and this he endeavors to evince\nby three arguments. First, that the world could not be complete and\nperfect, if it did not within itself include all beings. Secondly, nor\ncould it give the true resemblance of its original and exemplar, if\nit were not the one only begotten thing. Thirdly, it could not be\nincorruptible, if there were any being out of its compass to whose power\nit might be obnoxious. But to Plato it may be thus returned. First, that\nthe world is not complete and perfect, nor doth it contain all things\nwithin itself. And if man is a perfect being, yet he doth not encompass\nall things. Secondly, that there are many exemplars and originals of\nstatues, houses, and pictures. Thirdly, how is the world perfect, if\nanything beyond it is possible to be moved about it? But the world\nis not incorruptible, nor can it be so conceived, because it had an\noriginal.\n\nTo Metrodorus it seems absurd, that in a large field one only stalk\nshould grow, and in an infinite space one only world exist; and that\nthis universe is infinite is manifest by this, that there is an infinity\nof causes. Now if this world be finite and the causes producing it\ninfinite, it follows that the worlds likewise be infinite; for where\nall causes concur, there the effects also must appear, let the causes be\nwhat they will, either atoms or elements.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI. WHENCE DID MEN OBTAIN THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE AND\nESSENCE OF A DEITY?\n\nThe Stoics thus define the essence of a god. It is a spirit intellectual\nand fiery, which acknowledges no shape, but is continually changed into\nwhat it pleases, and assimilates itself to all things. The knowledge\nof this deity they first received from the pulchritude of those things\nwhich so visibly appeared to us; for they concluded that nothing\nbeauteous could casually or fortuitously be formed, but that it was\nframed from the art of a great understanding that produced the world.\nThat the world is very resplendent is made perspicuous from the figure,\nthe color, the magnitude of it, and likewise from the wonderful variety\nof those stars which adorn this world. The world is spherical; the\norbicular hath the pre-eminence above all other figures, for being round\nitself it hath its parts like itself. (On this account, according to\nPlato, the understanding, which is the most sacred part of man, is in\nthe head.) The color of it is most beauteous; for it is painted with\nblue; which, though little blacker than purple, yet hath such a shining\nquality, that by reason of the vehement efficacy of its color it cuts\nthrough such a space of air; whence it is that at so great a distance\nthe heavens are to be contemplated. And in this very greatness of the\nworld the beauty of it appears. View all things: that which contains the\nrest carries a beauty with it, as an animal or a tree. Also things which\nare visible to us accomplish the beauty of the world. The oblique\ncircle called the Zodiac in heaven is with different images painted and\ndistinguished:--\n\n     There's Cancer, Leo, Virgo, and the Claws;\n     Scorpio, Arcitenens, and Capricorn;\n     Amphora, Pisces, then the Ram, and Bull;\n     The lovely pair of Brothers next succeed.\n    (From Aratus.)\n\n\nThere are a thousand others that give us the suitable reflections of the\nbeauty of the world. Thus Euripides:--\n\n     The starry splendor of the skies,\n     The beautiful and varied work of that wise\n     Creator, Time.\n\nFrom this the knowledge of a god is conveyed to man; that the sun, the\nmoon, and the rest of the stars, being carried under the earth, rise\nagain in their proper color, magnitude, place, and times. Therefore they\nwho by tradition delivered to us the knowledge and veneration of\nthe gods did it by these three manner of ways:--first, from Nature;\nsecondly, from fables; thirdly, from the testimony supplied by the\nlaws of commonwealths. Philosophers taught the natural way; poets, the\nfabulous; and the political way is to be had from the constitutions of\neach commonwealth. All sorts of this learning are distinguished into\nthese seven parts. The first is from things that are conspicuous, and\nthe observation of those bodies which are in places superior to us. To\nmen the heavenly bodies that are so visible did give the knowledge of\nthe deity; when they contemplated that they are the causes of so great\nan harmony, that they regulate day and night, winter and summer, by\ntheir rising and setting, and likewise considered those things which\nby their influences in the earth do receive a being and do likewise\nfructify. It was manifest to men that the Heaven was the father of those\nthings, and the Earth the mother; that the Heaven was the father is\nclear, since from the heavens there is the pouring down of waters, which\nhave their spermatic faculty; the Earth the mother, because she receives\nthem and brings forth. Likewise men considering that the stars are\nrunning (Greek omitted) in a perpetual motion, that the sun and moon\ngive us the stimulus to view and contemplate (Greek omitted), they call\nthem all gods (Greek omitted).\n\nIn the second and third place, they thus distinguished the deities into\nthose which are beneficial and those that are injurious to mankind.\nThose which are beneficial they call Jupiter, Juno, Mercury, Ceres;\nthose who are mischievous the Dirae, Furies, and Mars. These, which\nthreaten dangers and violence, men endeavor to appease and conciliate\nby sacred rites. The fourth and the fifth order of gods they assign to\nthings and passions; to passions, Love, Venus, and Desire; the deities\nthat preside over things, Hope, Justice, and Eunomia.\n\nThe sixth order of deities are the ones made by the poets; Hesiod,\nwilling to find out a father for those gods that acknowledge an\noriginal, invented their progenitors,--\n\n     Hyperion, Coeus, and Iapetus,\n     With Creius:\n     (Hesiod, \"Theogony,\" 134.)\n\nupon which account this is called the fabulous. The seventh rank of\nthe deities added to the rest are those which, by their beneficence to\nmankind, were honored with a divine worship, though they were born of\nmortal race; of this sort were Hercules, Castor and Pollux, and Bacchus.\nThese are reputed to be of a human species; for of all beings that which\nis divine is most excellent, and man amongst all animals is adorned with\nthe greatest beauty, is also the best, being adorned by virtue above\nthe rest because of the gift of intellect: therefore it was thought that\nthose who were admirable for excellence should resemble that which is\nthe best and most beautiful.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII. WHAT IS GOD?\n\nSome of the philosophers, such as Diagoras the Melian, Theodorus the\nCyrenean, and Euemerus the Tegeatan, did deny unanimously that there\nwere any gods; and Callimachus the Cyrenean discovered his mind\nconcerning Euemerus in these Iambic verses, thus writing:--\n\n     To th' ante-mural temple flock apace,\n     Where he that long ago composed of brass\n     Great Jupiter, Thrasonic old bald pate,\n     Now scribbles impious books,--a boastful ass!\n\nmeaning books which prove there are no gods. Euripides the tragedian\ndurst not openly declare his sentiment; the court of Areopagus terrified\nhim. Yet he sufficiently manifested his thoughts by this method. He\npresented in his tragedy Sisyphus, the first and great patron of this\nopinion, and introduced himself as one agreeing with him:--\n\n     Disorder in those days did domineer,\n     And brutal power kept the world in fear.\n\nAfterwards by the sanction of laws wickedness was suppressed; but by\nreason that laws could prohibit only public villanies, yet could not\nhinder many persons from acting secret impieties, some wise persons\ngave this advice, that we ought to blind truth with lying disguises, and\npersuade men that there is a God:--\n\n     There's an eternal God does hear and see\n     And understand every impiety;\n     Though it in dark recess or thought committed be.\n\nBut this poetical fable ought to be rejected, he thought, along with\nCallimachus, who thus saith:--\n\n     If you believe a God, it must be meant\n     That you conceive this God omnipotent.\n\nBut God cannot do everything; for, if it were so, then a God could make\nsnow black, and the fire cold, and him that is in a posture of sitting\nto be upright, and so on the contrary. The brave-speaking Plato\npronounceth that God formed the world after his own image; but this\nsmells rank of the old dotages, old comic writers would say; for how did\nGod, casting his eye upon himself, frame this universe? Or how can God\nbe spherical, and be inferior to man?\n\nAnaxagoras avers that bodies did consist from all eternity, but the\ndivine intellect did reduce them into their proper orders, and effected\nthe origination of all beings. But Plato did not suppose that the\nprimary bodies had their consistence and repose, but that they were\nmoved confusedly and in disorder; but God, knowing that order was better\nthan confusion, did digest them into the best methods. Both these were\nequally peccant; for both suppose God to be the great moderator of human\naffairs and for that cause to have formed this present world; when it\nis apparent that an immortal and blessed being, replenished with all his\nglorious excellencies, and not at all obnoxious to any sort of evil, but\nbeing wholly occupied with his own felicity and immortality, would not\nemploy himself with the concerns of men; for certainly miserable is the\nbeing which, like a laborer or artificer, is molested by the troubles\nand cares which the forming and governing of this world must give him.\nAdd to this, that the God whom these men profess was either not at all\nexisting before this present world (when bodies were either reposed or\nin a disordered motion), or that at that time God did either sleep, or\nelse was in a constant watchfulness, or that he did neither of these.\nNow neither the first nor the second can be entertained, because they\nsuppose God to be eternal; if God from eternity was in a continual\nsleep, he was in an eternal death,--and what is death but an eternal\nsleep?--but no sleep can affect a deity, for the immortality of God and\nalliance to death are vastly different. But if God was in a continual\nvigilance, either there was something wanting to make him happy, or else\nhis beatitude was perfectly complete; but according to neither of these\ncan God be said to be blessed; not according to the first, for if\nthere be any deficiency there is no perfect bliss; not according to the\nsecond, for, if there be nothing wanting to the felicity of God, it must\nbe a needless enterprise for him to busy himself in human affairs. And\nhow can it be supposed that God administers by his own providence human\nconcerns, when to vain and trifling persons prosperous things happen, to\ngreat and high adverse? Agamemnon was both\n\n     A virtuous prince, for warlike acts renowned,\n     (\"Iliad,\" iii. 179.)\n\nand by an adulterer and adulteress was vanquished and perfidiously\nslain. Hercules, after he had freed the life of man from many things\nthat were pernicious to it, perished by the witchcraft and poison of\nDeianira.\n\nThales said that the intelligence of the world was God.\n\nAnaximander concluded that the stars were heavenly deities.\n\nDemocritus said that God, being a globe of fire, is the intelligence and\nthe soul of the world.\n\nPythagoras says that, of his principles, unity is God; and the good,\nwhich is indeed the nature of a unity, is mind itself; but the binary\nnumber, which is infinite, is a daemon, and evil,--about which the\nmultitude of material beings and this visible world are related.\n\nSocrates and Plato agree that God is that which is one, hath its\noriginal from its own self, is of a singular subsistence, is one only\nbeing perfectly good; all these various names signifying goodness do\nall centre in mind; hence God is to be understood as that mind and\nintellect, which is a separate idea, that is to say, pure and unmixed of\nall matter, and not mingled with anything subject to passions.\n\nAristotle's sentiment is, that God hath his residence in superior\nregions, and hath placed his throne in the sphere of the universe, and\nis a separate idea; which sphere is an ethereal body, which is by him\nstyled the fifth essence or quintessence. For there is a division of the\nuniverse into spheres, which are contiguous by their nature but appear\nto reason to be separated; and he concludes that each of the spheres is\nan animal, composed of a body and soul; the body of them is ethereal,\nmoved orbicularly, the soul is the rational form, which is unmoved, and\nyet is the cause that the sphere is in motion.\n\nThe Stoics affirm that God is a thing more common and obvious, and is\na mechanic fire which every way spreads itself to produce the world; it\ncontains in itself all seminal virtues, and by this means all things by\na fatal necessity were produced. This spirit, passing through the whole\nworld, received different names from the mutations in the matter through\nwhich it ran in its journey. God therefore is the world, the stars, the\nearth, and (highest of all) the mind in the heavens. In the judgment of\nEpicurus all the gods are anthropomorphites, or have the shape of men;\nbut they are perceptible only by reason, for their nature admits of no\nother manner of being apprehended, their parts being so small and fine\nthat they give no corporeal representations. The same Epicurus asserts\nthat there are four other natural beings which are immortal: of this\nsort are atoms, the vacuum, the infinite, and the similar parts; and\nthese last are called Homoeomeries and likewise elements.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII. OF THOSE THAT ARE CALLED GENIUSES AND HEROES\n\nHaving treated of the essence of the deities in a just order, it follows\nthat we discourse of daemons and heroes. Thales, Pythagoras, Plato, and\nthe Stoics do conclude that daemons are essences endowed with souls;\nthat the heroes are the souls separated from their bodies, some are\ngood, some are bad; the good are those whose souls are good, the evil\nthose whose souls are wicked. All this is rejected by Epicurus.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX. OF MATTER.\n\nMatter is that first being which is substrate for generation,\ncorruption, and all other alterations.\n\nThe disciples of Thales and Pythagoras, with the Stoics, are of opinion\nthat matter is changeable, mutable, convertible, and sliding through all\nthings.\n\nThe followers of Democritus aver that the vacuum, the atom, and the\nincorporeal substance are the first beings, and not obnoxious to\npassions.\n\nAristotle and Plato affirm that matter is of that species which is\ncorporeal, void of any form, species, figure, and quality, but apt to\nreceive all forms, that she may be the nurse, the mother, and origin of\nall other beings. But they that do say that water, earth, air, and\nfire are matter do likewise say that matter cannot be without form, but\nconclude it is a body; but they that say that individual particles and\natoms are matter do say that matter is without form.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X. OF IDEAS.\n\nAn idea is a being incorporeal, not subsisting by itself, but gives\nfigure unto shapeless matter, and becomes the cause of its phenomena.\n\nSocrates and Plato conjecture that these ideas are beings separate from\nmatter, subsisting in the understanding and imagination of the deity,\nthat is, of mind.\n\nAristotle accepted forms and ideas; but he doth not believe them\nseparated from matter, or patterns of the things God has made.\n\nThose Stoics, that are of the school of Zeno, profess that ideas are\nnothing else but the conceptions of our own mind.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI. OF CAUSES.\n\nA cause is that by which anything is produced, or by which anything is\neffected.\n\nPlato gives this triple division of causes,--the material, the\nefficient, and the final cause; the principal cause he judges to be the\nefficient, which is the mind and intellect.\n\nPythagoras and Aristotle judge the first causes are incorporeal beings,\nbut those that are causes by accident or participation become corporeal\nsubstances; by this means the world is corporeal.\n\nThe Stoics grant that all causes are corporeal, inasmuch as they are\nphysical.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII. OF BODIES.\n\nA body is that being which hath these three dimensions, breadth, depth,\nand length;--or a bulk which makes a sensible resistance;--or whatsoever\nof its own nature possesseth a place.\n\nPlato saith that it is neither heavy nor light in its own nature, when\nit exists in its own place; but being in the place where another should\nbe, then it has an inclination by which it tends to gravity or levity.\n\nAristotle saith that, if we simply consider things in their own nature,\nthe earth only is to be judged heavy, and fire light; but air and water\nare on occasions heavy and at other times light.\n\nThe Stoics think that of the four elements two are light, fire and air;\ntwo ponderous, earth and water; that which is naturally light doth by\nits own nature, not by any inclination, recede from its own centre; but\nthat which is heavy doth by its own nature tend to its centre; for the\ncentre is not a heavy thing in itself.\n\nEpicurus thinks that bodies are not limited; but the first bodies,\nwhich are simple bodies, and all those composed of them, all acknowledge\ngravity; that all atoms are moved, some perpendicularly, some obliquely;\nsome are carried aloft either by immediate impulse or with vibrations.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII. OF THOSE THINGS THAT ARE LEAST IN NATURE.\n\nEmpedocles, before the four elements, introduceth the most minute bodies\nwhich resemble elements; but they did exist before the elements, having\nsimilar parts and orbicular.\n\nHeraclitus brings in the smallest fragments, and those indivisible.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV. OF FIGURES.\n\nA figure is the exterior appearance, the circumscription, and the\nboundary of a body.\n\nThe Pythagoreans say that the bodies of the four elements are spherical,\nfire being in the supremest place only excepted, whose figure is\nconical.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV. OF COLORS.\n\nColor is the visible quality of a body.\n\nThe Pythagoreans called color the external appearance of a body.\nEmpedocles, that which is consentaneous to the passages of the eye.\nPlato, that they are fires emitted from bodies, which have parts\nharmonious for the sight. Zeno the Stoic, that colors are the first\nfigurations of matter. The Pythagoreans, that colors are of four sorts,\nwhite and black, red and pale; and they derive the variety of colors\nfrom the mixtures of the elements, and that seen in animals also from\nthe variety of food and the air.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI. OF THE DIVISION OF BODIES.\n\nThe disciples of Thales and Pythagoras grant that all bodies are\npassible and divisible into infinity. Others hold that atoms and\nindivisible parts are there fixed, and admit not of a division into\ninfinity. Aristotle, that all bodies are potentially but not actually\ndivisible into infinity.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII. HOW BODIES ARE MIXED AND CONTEMPERATED ONE WITH ANOTHER.\n\nThe ancient philosophers held that the mixture of elements proceeded\nfrom the alteration of qualities; but the disciples of Anaxagoras\nand Democritus say it is done by apposition. Empedocles composes the\nelements of still minuter bulks, those which are the most minute and may\nbe termed the element of elements. Plato assigns three bodies (but he\nwill not allow these to be elements, nor properly so called), air, fire,\nand water, which are mutable into one another; but the earth is mutable\ninto none of these.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII. OF A VACUUM.\n\nAll the natural philosophers from Thales to Plato rejected a vacuum.\nEmpedocles says that there is nothing of a vacuity in Nature, nor\nanything superabundant. Leucippus, Democritus, Demetrius, Metrodorus,\nEpicurus, that the atoms are in number infinite; and that a vacuum is\ninfinite in magnitude. The Stoics, that within the compass of the world\nthere is no vacuum, but beyond it the vacuum is infinite. Aristotle,\nthat the vacuum beyond the world is so great that the heaven has liberty\nto breathe into it, for the heaven is fiery.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX. OF PLACE.\n\nPlato, to define place, calls it that thing which in its own bosom\nreceives forms and ideas; by which metaphor he denotes matter, being\n(as it were) a nurse or receptacle of beings. Aristotle, that it is the\nultimate superficies of the circumambient body, contiguous to that which\nit doth encompass.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX. OF SPACE.\n\nThe Stoics and Epicureans make a place, a vacuum, and space to differ.\nA vacuum is that which is void of anything that may be called a body;\nplace is that which is possessed by a body; a space that which is partly\nfilled with a body, as a cask with wine.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI. OF TIME.\n\nIn the sense of Pythagoras, time is that sphere which encompasses\nthe world. Plato says that it is a movable image of eternity, or the\ninterval of the world's motion.\n\nEratosthenes, that it is the solar motion.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII. OF THE SUBSTANCE AND NATURE OF TIME.\n\nPlato says that the heavenly motion is time. Most of the Stoics that\nmotion is time. Most philosophers think that time had no commencement;\nPlato, that time had only in intelligence a beginning.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII. OF MOTION.\n\nPlato and Pythagoras say that motion is a difference and alteration in\nmatter. Aristotle, that it is the actual operation of that which may be\nmoved. Democritus, that there is but one sort of motion, and it is that\nwhich is vibratory. Epicurus, that there are two species of motion, one\nperpendicular, and the other oblique. Herophilus, that one species of\nmotion is obvious only to reason, the other to sense. Heraclitus utterly\ndenies that there is anything of quiet or repose in nature; for that is\nthe state of the dead; one sort of motion is eternal, which he assigns\nto beings eternal, the other perishable, to those things which are\nperishable.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV. OF GENERATION AND CORRUPTION.\n\nParmenides Melissus, and Zeno deny that there are any such things\nas generation and corruption, for they suppose that the universe is\nunmovable. Empedocles, Epicurus, and other philosophers that combine\nin this, that the world is framed of small corporeal particles meeting\ntogether, affirm that corruption and generation are not so properly to\nbe accepted; but there are conjunctions and separations, which do not\nconsist in any distinction according to their qualities, but are made\naccording to quantity by coalition or disjunction. Pythagoras, and all\nthose who take for granted that matter is subject to mutation, say that\ngeneration and corruption are to be accepted in their proper sense, and\nthat they are accomplished by the alteration, mutation, and dissolution\nof elements.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV. OF NECESSITY.\n\nThales says that necessity is omnipotent, and that it exerciseth an\nempire over everything. Pythagoras, that the world is invested by\nnecessity. Parmenides and Democritus, that there is nothing in the world\nbut what is necessary, and that this same necessity is otherwise called\nfate, justice, providence, and the architect of the world.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI. OF THE NATURE OF NECESSITY.\n\nBut Plato distinguisheth and refers some things to Providence, others\nto necessity. Empedocles makes the nature of necessity to be that cause\nwhich employs principles and elements. Democritus makes it to be a\nresistance, impulse, and force of matter. Plato sometimes says that\nnecessity is matter; at other times, that it is the habitude or respect\nof the efficient cause towards matter.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII. OF DESTINY OR FATE.\n\nHeraclitus, who attributes all things to fate, makes necessity to be\nthe same thing with it. Plato admits of a necessity in the minds and the\nacts of men, but yet he introduceth a cause which flows from ourselves.\nThe Stoics, in this agreeing with Plato, say that necessity is a cause\ninvincible and violent; that fate is the ordered complication of causes,\nin which there is an intexture of those things which proceed from our\nown determination, so that certain things are to be attributed to fate,\nothers not.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII. OF THE NATURE OF FATE.\n\nAccording to Heraclitus, the essence of fate is a certain reason which\npenetrates the substance of all being; and this is an ethereal body,\ncontaining in itself that seminal faculty which gives an original to\nevery being in the universe. Plato affirms that it is the eternal reason\nand the eternal law of the nature of the world. Chrysippus, that it is a\nspiritual faculty, which in due order doth manage and rule the universe.\nAgain, in his book styled the \"Definitions,\" that fate is the reason\nof the world, or that it is that law whereby Providence rules and\nadministers everything that is in the world; or it is that reason by\nwhich all things have been, all things are, and all things will be\nproduced. The Stoics say that it is a chain of causes, that is, it is\nan order and connection of causes which cannot be resisted. Posidonius,\nthat it is a being the third in degree from Jupiter; the first of beings\nis Jupiter, the second Nature, and the third Fate.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX. OF FORTUNE.\n\nPlato says, that it is an accidental cause and a casual consequence in\nthings which proceed from the election and counsel of men. Aristotle,\nthat it is an accidental cause in those things done by an impulse for a\ncertain end; and this cause is uncertain and unstable: there is a great\ndeal of difference betwixt that which flows from chance and that which\nfalls out by Fortune; for that which is fortuitous allows also chance,\nand belongs to things practical; but what is by chance cannot be also\nby Fortune, for it belongs to things without action: Fortune, moreover,\npertains to rational beings, but chance to rational and irrational\nbeings alike, and even to inanimate things. Epicurus, that it is a cause\nnot always consistent, but various as to persons, times, and manners.\nAnaxagoras and the Stoics, that it is that cause which human reason\ncannot comprehend; for there are some things which proceed from\nnecessity, some things from Fate, some from choice and free-will, some\nfrom Fortune, some from chance.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX. OF NATURE.\n\nEmpedocles affirms that Nature is nothing else but the mixture and\nseparation of the elements; for thus he writes in the first book of his\nnatural philosophy:--\n\n     Nature gives neither life nor death,\n     Mutation makes us die or breathe.\n     The elements first are mixed, then each\n     Do part: this Nature is in mortal speech.\n\nAnaxagoras is of the same opinion, that Nature is coalition and\nseparation, that is, generation and corruption.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK II.\n\nHaving finished my dissertation concerning principles and\nelements and those things which chiefly appertain to them, I will turn\nmy pen to discourse of those things which are produced by them, and will\ntake my beginning from the world, which contains and encompasseth all\nbeings.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I. OF THE WORLD.\n\nPythagoras was the first philosopher that called the world [Greek\nomitted], from the order and beauty of it; for so that word signifies.\nThales and his followers say the world is one. Democritus, Epicurus,\nand their scholar Metrodorus affirm that there are infinite worlds in\nan infinite space, for that infinite vacuum in its whole extent contains\nthem. Empedocles, that the circle which the sun makes in its motion\ncircumscribes the world, and that circle is the utmost bound of the\nworld. Seleucus, that the world knows no limits. Diogenes, that the\nuniverse is infinite, but this world is finite. The Stoics make a\ndifference between that which is called the universe, and that which is\ncalled the whole world;--the universe is the infinite space considered\nwith the vacuum, the vacuity being removed gives the right conception of\nthe world; so that the universe and the world are not the same thing.\n\n\nCHAPTER II. OF THE FIGURE OF THE WORLD.\n\nThe Stoics say that the figure of the world is spherical, others that it\nis conical, others oval. Epicurus, that the figure of the world may be\nglobular, or that it may admit of other shapes.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III. WHETHER THE WORLD BE AN ANIMAL.\n\nDemocritus, Epicurus, and those philosophers who introduced atoms and a\nvacuum, affirm that the world is not an animal, nor governed by any wise\nProvidence, but that it is managed by a nature which is void of reason.\nAll the other philosophers affirm that the world is informed with a\nsoul, and governed by reason and Providence. Aristotle is excepted, who\nis somewhat different; he is of opinion, that the whole world is\nnot acted by a soul in every part of it, nor hath it any sensitive,\nrational, or intellectual faculties, nor is it directed by reason and\nProvidence in every part of it; of all which the heavenly bodies are\nmade partakers, for the circumambient spheres are animated and are\nliving beings; but those things which are about the earth are void of\nthose endowments; and though those terrestrial bodies are of an orderly\ndisposition, yet that is casual and not primogenial.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV. WHETHER THE WORLD IS ETERNAL AND INCORRUPTIBLE.\n\nPythagoras [and Plato], agreeing with the Stoics, affirm that the world\nwas framed by God, and being corporeal is obvious to the senses, and in\nits own nature is obnoxious to destruction; but it shall never perish,\nit being preserved by the providence of God. Epicurus, that the world\nhad a beginning, and so shall have an end, as plants and animals\nhave. Xenophanes, that the world never had a beginning, is eternal and\nincorruptible. Aristotle, that the part of the world which is sublunary\nis subject to change, and there terrestrial beings find a decay.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V. WHENCE DOES THE WORLD RECEIVE ITS NUTRIMENT?\n\nAristotle says that, if the world be nourished, it will likewise be\ndissolved; but it requires no aliment, and will therefore be eternal.\nPlato, that this very world prepares for itself a nutriment, by the\nalteration of those things which are corruptible in it. Philolaus\naffirms that a destruction happens to the world in two ways; either by\nfire failing from heaven, or by the sublunary water being poured down\nthrough the whirling of the air; and the exhalations proceeding from\nthence are aliment of the world.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI. FROM WHAT ELEMENT GOD DID BEGIN TO RAISE THE FABRIC OF THE\nWORLD.\n\nThe natural philosophers pronounce that the forming of this world took\nits original from the earth, it being its centre, for the centre is the\nprincipal part of the globe. Pythagoras, from the fire and the fifth\nelement. Empedocles determines, that the first and principal element\ndistinct from the rest was the aether, then fire, after that the\nearth, which earth being strongly compacted by the force of a potent\nrevolution, water springs from it, the exhalations of which water\nproduce the air; the heaven took its origin from the aether, and fire\ngave a being to the sun; those things nearest to the earth are condensed\nfrom the remainders. Plato, that the visible world was framed after the\nexemplar of the intellectual world; the soul of the visible world was\nfirst produced, then the corporeal figure, first that which proceeded\nfrom fire and earth, then that which came from air and water.\nPythagoras, that the world was formed of five solid figures which are\ncalled mathematical; the earth was produced by the cube, the fire by the\npyramid, the air by the octahedron, the water by the icosahedron, and\nthe globe of the universe by the dodecahedron. In all these Plato hath\nthe same sentiments with Pythagoras.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII. IN WHAT FORM AND ORDER THE WORLD WAS COMPOSED.\n\nParmenides maintains that there are small coronets alternately twisted\none within another, some made up of a thin, others of a condensed,\nmatter; and there are others between mixed mutually together of light\nand of darkness, and around them all there is a solid substance, which\nlike a firm wall surrounds these coronets. Leucippus and Democritus\ncover the world round about, as with a garment and membrane. Epicurus\nsays that that which abounds some worlds is thin, and that which limits\nothers is gross and condensed; and of these spheres some are in motion,\nothers are fixed. Plato, that fire takes the first place in the world,\nthe second the aether, after that the air, under that the water; the\nlast place the earth possesseth: sometimes he puts the aether and the\nfire in the same place. Aristotle gives the first place to the aether,\nas that which is impassible, it being a kind of a fifth body after which\nhe placeth those that are passible, fire, air, and water, and last of\nall the earth. To those bodies that are accounted celestial he assigns\na motion that is circular, but to those that are seated under them,\nif they be light bodies, an ascending, if heavy, a descending motion.\nEmpedocles, that the places of the elements are not always fixed\nand determined, but they all succeed one another in their respective\nstations.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII. WHAT IS THE CAUSE OF THE WORLD'S INCLINATION.\n\nDiogenes and Anaxagoras state that, after the world was composed and had\nproduced living creatures, the world out of its own propensity made an\ninclination toward the south. Perhaps this may be attributed to a wise\nProvidence (they affirm), that thereby some parts of the world may be\nhabitable, others uninhabitable, according as the various climates\nare affected with a rigorous cold, or a scorching heat, or a just\ntemperament of cold and heat. Empedocles, that the air yielding to the\nimpetuous force of the solar rays, the poles received an inclination;\nwhereby the northern parts were exalted and the southern depressed, by\nwhich means the whole world received its inclination.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX. OF THAT THING WHICH IS BEYOND THE WORLD, AND WHETHER IT BE A\nVACUUM OR NOT.\n\nPythagoras and his followers say that beyond the world there is a\nvacuum, into which and out of which the world hath its respiration.\nThe Stoics, that there is a vacuum into which infinite space by a\nconflagration shall be dissolved. Posidonius, not an infinite vacuum,\nbut as much as suffices for the dissolution of the world; and this he\nasserts in his first book concerning the Vacuum. Aristotle affirms, that\na vacuum does not exist. Plato concludes that neither within nor without\nthe world there is any vacuum.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X. WHAT PARTS OF THE WORLD ARE ON THE RIGHT HAND, AND WHAT ON\nTHE LEFT.\n\nPythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle declare that the eastern parts of the\nworld, from whence motion commences, are of the right, those of the\nwestern are of the left hand of the world. Empedocles, that those that\nare of the right hand face the summer solstice, those of the left the\nwinter solstice.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI. OF HEAVEN, WHAT IS ITS NATURE AND ESSENCE.\n\nAnaximenes affirms that the circumference of heaven makes the limit\nof the earth's revolution. Empedocles, that the heaven is a solid\nsubstance, and hath the form and hardness of crystal, it being composed\nof the air compacted by fire, and that in both hemispheres it invests\nthe elements of air and fire. Aristotle, that it is formed by the fifth\nbody, and by the mixture of extreme heat and cold.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII. INTO HOW MANY CIRCLES IS THE HEAVEN DISTINGUISHED; OR, OF\nTHE DIVISION OF HEAVEN.\n\nThales, Pythagoras, and the followers of Pythagoras do distribute the\nuniversal globe of heaven into five circles, which they denominate\nzones; one of which is called the arctic circle, which is always\nconspicuous to us, another is the summer tropic, another is the\nsolstice, another is the winter tropic, another is the antarctic circle,\nwhich is always out of sight. The circle called the zodiac is placed\nunder the three that are in the midst, and is oblique, gently touching\nthem all. Likewise, they are all divided in right angles by the\nmeridian, which goes from pole to pole. It is supposed that Pythagoras\nmade the first discovery of the obliquity of the zodiac, but one\nOenopides of Chios challenges to himself the invention of it.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII. WHAT IS THE ESSENCE OF THE STARS, AND HOW THEY ARE\nCOMPOSED.\n\nThales affirms that they are globes of earth set on fire. Empedocles,\nthat they are fiery bodies arising from that fire which the aether\nembraced within itself, and did shatter in pieces when the elements were\nfirst separated one from another. Anaxagoras, that the circumambient\naether is of a fiery substance, which, by a vehement force in its\nwhirling about, did tear stones from the earth, and by its own power\nset them on fire, and establish them as stars in the heavens. Diogenes\nthinks they resemble pumice stones, and that they are the breathings\nof the world; again he supposeth that there are some invisible stones,\nwhich fall sometimes from heaven upon the earth, and are there quenched;\nas it happened at Aegos-potami, where a stony star resembling fire did\nfall. Empedocles, that the fixed stars fastened to the crystal, but the\nplanets are loosened. Plato, that the stars for the most part are of a\nfiery nature, but they are made partakers of another element, with\nthey are mixed after the resemblance of glue. Zenophanes, that they are\ncomposed of inflamed clouds, which in the daytime are quenched, and in\nthe night are kindled again. The like we see in coals; for the rising\nand setting of the stars is nothing else but the quenching and kindling\nof them. Heraclitus and the Pythagoreans, that every star is a world\nin an infinite aether, and encompasseth air, earth, and aether; this\nopinion is current among the disciples of Orpheus, for they suppose that\neach of the stars does make a world. Epicurus condemns none of these\nopinions, for he embraces anything that is possible.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV. OF WHAT FIGURE THE STARS ARE.\n\nThe Stoics say that the stars are of a circular form, like as the sun,\nthe moon, and the world. Cleanthes, that they are of a conical\nfigure. Anaximenes, that they are fastened as nails in the crystalline\nfirmament; some others, that they are fiery plates of gold, resembling\npictures.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV. OF THE ORDER AND PLACE OF THE STARS.\n\nXenocrates says that the stars are moved in one and the same\nsuperficies. The other Stoics say that they are moved in various\nsuperficies, some being superior, others inferior. Democritus, that the\nfixed stars are in the highest place; after those the planets; after\nthese the sun, Venus, and the moon, in order. Plato, that the first\nafter the fixed stars that makes its appearance is Phaenon, the star of\nSaturn; the second Phaeton, the star of Jupiter; the third the fiery,\nwhich is the star of Mars; the fourth the morning star, which is the\nstar of Venus; the fifth the shining star, and that is the star of\nMercury; in the sixth place is the sun, in the seventh the moon. Plato\nand some of the mathematicians conspire in the same opinion; others\nplace the sun as the centre of the planets. Anaximander, Metrodorus of\nChios, and Crates assign to the sun the superior place, after him the\nmoon, after them the fixed stars and planets.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI. OF THE MOTION AND CIRCULATION OF THE STARS.\n\nAnaxagoras, Democritus, and Cleanthes say that all the stars have their\nmotion from east to west. Alcmaeon and the mathematicians, that the\nplanets have a contrary motion to the fixed stars, and in opposition to\nthem are carried from the west to the east. Anaximander, that they\nare carried by those circles and spheres on which they are placed.\nAnaximenes, that they are turned under and about the earth. Plato and\nthe mathematicians, that the sun, Venus, and Mercury hold equal measures\nin their motions.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII. WHENCE DO THE STARS RECEIVE THEIR LIGHT?\n\nMetrodorus says that all the fixed stars derive their light from the\nsun. Heraclitus and the Stoics, that earthly exhalations are those\nby which the stars are nourished. Aristotle, that the heavenly bodies\nrequire no nutriment, for they being eternal cannot be obnoxious to\ncorruption. Plato and the Stoics, that the whole world and the stars are\nfed by the same things.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII. WHAT ARE THOSE STARS WHICH ARE CALLED THE DIOSCURI, THE\nTWINS, OR CASTOR AND POLLUX?\n\nXenophanes says that those which appear as stars in the tops of ships\nare little clouds brilliant by their peculiar motion. Metrodorus, that\nthe eyes of frighted and astonished people emit those lights which are\ncalled the Twins.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX. HOW STARS PROGNOSTICATE, AND WHAT IS THE CAUSE OF WINTER\nAND SUMMER.\n\nPlato says that the summer and winter indications proceed from the\nrising and setting of the stars, that is, from the rising and setting\nof the sun, the moon, and the fixed stars. Anaximenes, that the rest in\nthis are not at all concerned, but that it is wholly performed by the\nsun. Eudoxus and Aratus assign it in common to all the stars, for thus\nAratus says:--\n\n     Thund'ring Jove stars in heaven hath fixed,\n     And them in such beauteous order mixed,\n     Which yearly future things predict.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX. OF THE ESSENCE OF THE SUN.\n\nAnaximander says, that the sun is a circle eight and twenty times\nbigger than the earth, and has a circumference very much like that of\na chariot-wheel, which is hollow and full of fire; the fire of which\nappears to us through its mouth, as by an aperture in a pipe; and this\nis the sun. Xenophanes, that the sun is constituted of small bodies\nof fire compacted together and raised from a moist exhalation, which\ncondensed make the body of the sun; or that it is a cloud enfired. The\nStoics, that it is an intelligent flame proceeding from the sea. Plato,\nthat it is composed of abundance of fire. Anaxagoras, Democritus, and\nMetrodorus, that it is an enfired stone, or a burning body. Aristotle,\nthat it is a sphere formed out of the fifth body. Philolaus the\nPythagorean, that the sun shines as crystal, which receives its splendor\nfrom the fire of the world and so reflecteth its light upon us; so that\nfirst, the body of fire which is celestial is in the sun; and secondly,\nthe fiery reflection that comes from it, in the form of a mirror; and\nlastly, the rays spread upon us by way of reflection from that mirror;\nand this last we call the sun, which is (as it were) an image of an\nimage. Empedocles, that there are two suns; the one the prototype, which\nis a fire placed in the other hemisphere, which it totally fills, and\nis always ordered in a direct opposition to the reflection of its own\nlight; and the sun which is visible to us, formed by the reflection of\nthat splendor in the other hemisphere (which is filled with air mixed\nwith heat), the light reflected from the circular sun in the opposite\nhemisphere falling upon the crystalline sun; and this reflection is\nborne round with the motion of the fiery sun. To give briefly the full\nsense, the sun is nothing else but the light and brightness of that fire\nwhich encompasseth the earth. Epicurus, that it is an earthy bulk well\ncompacted, with ores like a pumice-stone or a sponge, kindled by fire.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI. OF THE MAGNITUDE OF THE SUN.\n\nAnaximander says, that the sun itself in greatness is equal to the\nearth, but that the circle from whence it receives its respiration and\nin which it is moved is seven and twenty times larger than the earth.\nAnaxagoras, that it is far greater than Peloponnesus. Heraclitus, that\nit is no broader than a man's foot. Epicurus, that he equally embraceth\nall the foresaid opinions,--that the sun may be of magnitude as it\nappears, or it may be somewhat greater or somewhat less.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII. WHAT IS THE FIGURE OR SHAPE OF THE SUN.\n\nAnaximenes affirms that in its dilatation it resembles a leaf.\nHeraclitus, that it hath the shape of a boat, and is somewhat crooked.\nThe Stoics, that it is spherical, and it is of the same figure with the\nworld and the stars. Epicurus, that the recited dogmas may be defended.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII. OF THE TURNING AND RETURNING OF THE STARS, OR THE SUMMER\nAND WINTER SOLSTICE.\n\nAnaximenes believes that the stars are forced by a condensed and\nresisting air. Anaxagoras, by the repelling force of the northern\nair, which is violently pushed on by the sun, and thus rendered more\ncondensed and powerful. Empedocles, that the sun is hindered from a\ncontinual direct course by its spherical vehicle and by the two\ncircular tropics. Diogenes, that the sun, when it comes to its utmost\ndeclination, is extinguished, a rigorous cold damping the heat. The\nStoics, that the sun maintains its course only through that space in\nwhich its sustenance is seated, let it be the ocean or the earth; by the\nexhalations proceeding from these it is nourished. Plato, Pythagoras,\nand Aristotle, that the sun receives a transverse motion from the\nobliquity of the zodiac, which is guarded by the tropics; all these the\nglobe clearly manifests.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV. OF THE ECLIPSE OF THE SUN.\n\nThales was the first who affirmed that the eclipse of the sun was caused\nby the moon's running in a perpendicular line between it and the world;\nfor the moon in its own nature is terrestrial. And by mirrors it is made\nperspicuous that, when the sun is eclipsed, the moon is in a direct line\nbelow it. Anaximander, that the sun is eclipsed when the fiery mouth\nof it is stopped and hindered from respiration. Heraclitus, that it\nis after the manner of the turning of a boat, when the concave seems\nuppermost to our sight, and the convex nethermost. Xenophanes, that the\nsun is eclipsed when it is extinguished; and that a new sun is created\nand rises in the east. He gives a farther account of an eclipse of the\nsun which remained for a whole month, and again of an eclipse which\nchanged the day into night. Some declare that the cause of an eclipse is\nthe invisible concourse of condensed clouds which cover the orb of the\nsun. Aristarchus placeth the sun amongst the fixed stars, and believeth\nthat the earth [the moon?] is moved about the sun, and that by its\ninclination and vergency it intercepts its light and shadows its orb.\nXenophanes, that there are many suns and many moons, according as the\nearth is distinguished by climates, circles, and zones. At some certain\ntimes the orb of the sun, falling upon some part of the world which is\nuntenanted, wanders in a vacuum and becomes eclipsed. The same person\naffirms that the sun proceeding in its motion in the infinite space,\nappears to us to move orbicularly, taking that representation from its\ninfinite distance from us.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV. OF THE ESSENCE OF THE MOON.\n\nAnaximander affirms that the circle of the moon is nineteen times bigger\nthan the earth, and resembles the sun, its orb being full of fire;\nand it suffers an eclipse when the wheel makes a revolution,--which he\ndescribes by the divers turnings of a chariot-wheel, in the midst of it\nthere being a hollow nave replenished with fire, which hath but one way\nof expiration. Xenophanes, that it is a condensed cloud. The Stoics,\nthat it is mixed of fire and air. Plato, that it is a body of the\ngreatest part fiery. Anaxagoras and Democritus, that it is a solid,\ncondensed, and fiery body, in which there are flat countries, mountains,\nand valleys. Heraclitus, that it is an earth covered with a bright\ncloud. Pythagoras, that the body of the moon was of a nature resembling\na mirror.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI. OF THE SIZE OF THE MOON.\n\nThe Stoics declare, that in magnitude it exceeds the earth, just as the\nsun itself doth. Parmenides, that it is equal to the sun, from whom it\nreceives its light.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII. OF THE FIGURE OF THE MOON.\n\nThe Stoics believe that it is of the same figure with the sun,\nspherical. Empedocles, that the figure of it resembles a quoit.\nHeraclitus, a boat. Others, a cylinder.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII. FROM WHENCE IS IT THAT THE MOON RECEIVES HER LIGHT?\n\nAnaximander thinks that she gives light to herself, but it is very\nslender and faint. Antiphon, that the moon shines by its own proper\nlight; but when it absconds itself, the solar beams darting on it\nobscure it. Thus it naturally happens, that a more vehement light puts\nout a weaker; the same is seen in other stars. Thales and his followers,\nthat the moon borrows all her light of the sun. Heraclitus, that the\nsun and moon are after the same manner affected; in their configurations\nboth are shaped like boats, and are made conspicuous to us by receiving\ntheir light from moist exhalations. The sun appears to us more\nrefulgent, by reason it is moved in a clearer and purer air; the moon\nappears more duskish, it being carried in an air more troubled and\ngross.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX. OF THE ECLIPSE OF THE MOON.\n\nAnaximenes believes that the mouth of the wheel, about which the moon\nis turned, being stopped is the cause of an eclipse. Berasus, that it\nproceeds from the turning of the dark side of the lunar orb towards us.\nHeraclitus, that it is performed just after the manner of a boat turned\nupside downwards. Some of the Pythagoreans say, that the splendor arises\nfrom the earth, its obstruction from the Antichthon (or counter-earth).\nSome of the later philosophers, that there is such a distribution of\nthe lunar flame, that it gradually and in a just order burns until it be\nfull moon; in like manner, that this fire decays by degrees, until its\nconjunction with the sun totally extinguisheth it. Plato, Aristotle, the\nStoics, and all the mathematicians agree, that the obscurity with which\nthe moon is every month affected ariseth from a conjunction with the\nsun, by whose more resplendent beams she is darkened; and the moon is\nthen eclipsed when she falls upon the shadow of the earth, the earth\ninterposing between the sun and moon, or (to speak more properly) the\nearth intercepting the light of the moon.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX. OF THE PHASES OF THE MOON, OR THE LUNAR ASPECTS; OR HOW IT\nCOMES TO PASS THAT THE MOON APPEARS TO US TERRESTRIAL.\n\nThe Pythagoreans say, that the moon appears to us terraneous, by reason\nit is inhabited as our earth is, and in it there are animals of a larger\nsize and plants of a rarer beauty than our globe affords; that the\nanimals in their virtue and energy are fifteen degrees superior to ours;\nthat they emit nothing excrementitious; and that the days are fifteen\ntimes longer. Anaxagoras, that the reason of the inequality ariseth from\nthe commixture of things earthy and cold; and that fiery and caliginous\nmatter is jumbled together, whereby the moon is said to be a star of a\ncounterfeit aspect. The Stoics, that on account of the diversity of her\nsubstance the composition of her body is subject to corruption.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI. HOW FAR THE MOON IS REMOVED FROM THE SUN.\n\nEmpedocles declares, that the distance of the moon from the sun is\ndouble her remoteness from the earth. The mathematicians, that her\ndistance from the sun is eighteen times her distance from the earth.\nEratosthenes, that the sun is remote from the earth seven hundred and\neighteen thousand furlongs.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII. OF THE YEAR, AND HOW MANY CIRCULATIONS MAKE UP THE GREAT\nYEAR OF EVERY PLANET.\n\nThe year of Saturn is completed when he has had his circulation in the\nspace of thirty solar years; of Jupiter in twelve; of Mars in two, of\nthe sun in twelve months; in so many Mercury and Venus, the spaces of\ntheir circulation being equal; of the moon in thirty days, in which\ntime her course from her prime to her conjunction is finished. As to\nthe great year, some make it to consist of eight years solar, some\nof nineteen, others of fifty-nine. Heraclitus, of eighteen thousand.\nDiogenes, of three hundred and sixty-five such years as Heraclitus\nassigns. Others there are who lengthen it to seven thousand seven\nhundred and seventy-seven years.\n\n\n\n\n\nBOOK III.\n\nIn my two precedent treatises having in due order taken a compendious\nview and given an account of the celestial bodies, and of the moon which\nstands between them and the terrestrial, I must now convert my pen to\ndiscourse in this third book of Meteors, which are beings above the\nearth and below the moon, and are extended to the site and situation of\nthe earth, which is supposed to be the centre of the sphere of this\nworld; and from thence will I take my beginning.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I. OF THE GALAXY, OR THE MILKY WAY.\n\nIt is a cloudy circle, which continually appears in the air, and by\nreason of the whiteness of its colors is called the galaxy, or the milky\nway. Some of the Pythagoreans say that, when Phaeton set the world on\nfire, a star falling from its own place in its circular passage through\nthe region caused an inflammation. Others say that originally it was\nthe first course of the sun; others, that it is an image as in a\nlooking-glass, occasioned by the sun's reflecting its beams towards the\nheavens, and this appears in the clouds and in the rainbow. Metrodorus,\nthat it is merely the solar course, or the motion of the sun in its own\ncircle. Parmenides, that the mixture of a thick and thin substance gives\nit a color which resembles milk. Anaxagoras, that the sun moving under\nthe earth and not being able to enlighten every place, the shadow of\nthe earth, being cast upon the part of the heavens, makes the galaxy.\nDemocritus, that it is the splendor which ariseth from the coalition\nof many small bodies, which, being firmly united amongst themselves, do\nmutually enlighten one another. Aristotle, that it is the inflammation\nof dry, copious, and coherent vapor, by which the fiery mane, whose seat\nis beneath the aether and the planets, is produced. Posidonius, that it\nis a combination of fire, of finer substance than the stars, but denser\nthan light.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II. OF COMETS AND SHOOTING FIRES, AND THOSE WHICH RESEMBLE\nBEAMS.\n\nSome of the Pythagoreans say, that a comet is one of those stars which\ndo not always appear, but after they have run through their determined\ncourse, they then rise and are visible to us. Others, that it is the\nreflection of our sight upon the sun, which gives the resemblance of\ncomets much after the same manner as images are reflected in mirrors.\nAnaxagoras and Democritus, that two or more stars being in conjunction\nby their united light make a comet. Aristotle, that it is a fiery\ncoalition of dry exhalations. Strato, that it is the light of the star\ndarting through a thick cloud that hath invested it; this is seen in\nlight shining through lanterns. Heraclides, native of Pontus, that it is\na lofty cloud inflamed by a sublime fire. The like causes he assigns\nto the bearded comet, to those circles that are seen about the sun or\nstars, or those meteors which resemble pillars or beams, and all others\nwhich are of this kind. This way unanimously go all the Peripatetics,\nholding that these meteors, being formed by the clouds, do differ\naccording to their various configurations. Epigenes, that a comet arises\nfrom a rising of spirit or wind, mixed with an earthy substance and set\non fire. Boethus, that it is a phantasy presented to us by fiery air.\nDiogenes, that comets are stars. Anaxagoras, that those styled shooting\nstars descend from the aether like sparks, and therefore are soon\nextinguished. Metrodorus, that it is a forcible illapse of the sun upon\nclouds which makes them to sparkle as fire. Xenophanes, that all such\nfiery meteors are nothing else but the conglomeration of the enfired\nclouds, and the flashing motions of them.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III. OF VIOLENT ERUPTION OF FIRE OUT OF THE CLOUDS. OF\nLIGHTNING. OF THUNDER. OF HURRICANES. OF WHIRLWINDS. Anaximander affirms\nthat all these are produced by the wind after this manner: the wind\nbeing enclosed by condensed clouds, on account of its minuteness and\nlightness violently endeavors to make a passage; and in breaking\nthrough the cloud gives noise; and the tearing the cloud, because of the\nblackness of it, gives a resplendent flame. Metrodorus, that when the\nwind falls upon a cloud whose densing firmly compacts it, by breaking\nthe cloud it causeth a great noise, and by striking and rending the\ncloud it gives the flame; and in the swiftness of its motion, the sun\nimparting heat to it, it throws out the bolt. The weak declining of the\nthunderbolt ends in a violent tempest. Anaxagoras, that when heat and\ncold meet and are mixed together (that is, ethereal parts with airy),\nthereby a great noise of thunder is produced, and the color observed\nagainst the blackness of the cloud occasions the flashing of fire; the\nfull and great splendor is lightning, the more enlarged and embodied\nfire becomes a whirlwind, the cloudiness of it gives the hurricane. The\nStoics, that thunder is the clashing of clouds one upon another,\nthe flash of lightning is their fiery inflammation; their more\nrapid splendor is the thunderbolt, the faint and weak the whirlwind.\nAristotle, that all these proceed from dry exhalations, which, if they\nmeet with moist vapors, forcing their passage, the breaking of them\ngives the noise of thunder; they, being very dry, take fire and make\nlightning; tempests and hurricanes arise from the plenitude of matter\nwhich each draw to themselves, the hotter parts attracted make the\nwhirlwinds, the duller the tempests.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV. OF CLOUDS, RAIN, SNOW, AND HAIL.\n\nAnaximenes thinks that the air by being very much condensed clouds are\nformed; this air being more compacted, rain is compressed through it;\nwhen water in its falling down freezeth, then snow is generated; when it\nis encompassed with a moist air, it is hail. Metrodorus, that a cloud is\ncomposed of a watery exhalation carried into a higher place. Epicurus,\nthat they are made of vapors; and that hail and snow are formed in\na round figure, being in their long descent pressed upon by the\ncircumambient air.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V. OF THE RAINBOW.\n\nThose things which affect the air in the superior places of it are of\ntwo sorts. Some have a real subsistence, such are rain and hail; others\nnot. Those which enjoy not a proper subsistence are only in appearance;\nof this sort is the rainbow. Thus the continent to us that sail seems to\nbe in motion.\n\nPlato says, that men admiring it feigned that it took origination from\none Thaumas, which word signifies admiration. Homer sings:--\n\n     Jove paints the rainbow with a purple dye,\n     Alluring man to cast his wandering eye.\n     (Iliad, xvii. 547.)\n\nOthers therefore fabled that the bow hath a head like a bull, by which\nit swallows up rivers.\n\nBut what is the cause of the rainbow? It is evident that what apparent\nthings we see come to our eyes in right or in crooked lines, or by\nrefraction: these are incorporeal and to sense obscure, but to reason\nthey are obvious. Those which are seen in right lines are those which we\nsee through the air or horn or transparent stones, for all the parts\nof these things are very fine and tenuous; but those which appear in\ncrooked lines are in water, the thickness of the water presenting\nthem bended to our sight. This is the reason that oars in themselves\nstraight, when put into the sea, appear to us crooked. The third manner\nof our seeing is by refraction, and this is perspicuous in mirrors.\nAfter this third sort the rainbow is affected. We conceive it is a moist\nexhalation converted into a cloud, and in a short space it is dissolved\ninto small and moist drops. The sun declining towards the west, it will\nnecessarily follow that the whole bow is seen opposite to the sun; for\nthe eye being directed to those drops receives a refraction, and by this\nmeans the bow is formed. The eye doth not consider the figure and form,\nbut the color of these drops; the first of which colors is a shining\nred, the second a purple, the third is blue and green. Let us consider\nwhether the reason of this red shining color be the splendor of the sun\nfalling upon these small drops, the whole body of light being refracted,\nby which this bright red color is produced; the second part being\ntroubled and the light languishing in the drops, the color becomes\npurple (for the purple is the faint red); but the third part, being more\nand more troubled, is changed into the green color. And this is proved\nby other effects of Nature; if any one shall put water in his mouth and\nspit it out so opposite to the sun, that its rays may be refracted on\nthe drops, he shall see the resemblance of a rainbow; the same appears\nto men that are blear-eyed, when they fix their watery eyes upon a\ncandle.\n\nAnaximenes thinks the bow is thus formed; the sun casting its splendor\nupon a thick, black, and gross cloud, and the rays not being in a\ncapacity to penetrate beyond the superficies. Anaxagoras, that, the\nsolar rays being reflected from a condensed cloud, the sun being placed\ndirectly opposite to it forms the bow after the mode of the repercussion\nof a mirror; after the same manner he assigns the natural cause of the\nParhelia or mock-suns, which are often seen in Pontus. Metrodorus, that\nwhen the sun casts its splendor through a cloud, the cloud gives itself\na blue, and the light a red color.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI. OF METEORS WHICH RESEMBLE RODS, OR OF RODS.\n\nThese rods and the mock-suns are constituted of a double nature, a real\nsubsistence, and a mere appearance;--of a real subsistence, because\nthe clouds are the object of our eyes; of a mere appearance, for their\nproper color is not seen, but that which is adventitious. The like\naffections, natural and adventitious, in all such things do happen.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII. OF WINDS.\n\nAnaximander believes that wind is a fluid air, the sun putting into\nmotion or melting the moist subtle parts of it. The Stoics, that all\nwinds are a flowing air, and from the diversity of the regions whence\nthey have their origin receive their denomination; as, from darkness and\nthe west the western wind; from the sun and its rising the eastern;\nfrom the north the northern, and from the south the southern winds.\nMetrodorus, that moist vapors heated by the sun are the cause of the\nimpetuousness of violent winds. The Etesian, or those winds which\nannually commence about the rising of the Little Dog, the air about the\nnorthern pole being more compacted, blow violently following the sun\nwhen it returns from the summer solstice.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII. OF WINTER AND SUMMER.\n\nEmpedocles and the Stoics believe that winter is caused by the thickness\nof the air prevailing and mounting upwards; and summer by fire, it\nfalling downwards.\n\nThis description being given by me of Meteors, or those things that are\nabove us, I must pass to those things which are terrestrial.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX. OF THE EARTH, WHAT IS ITS NATURE AND MAGNITUDE.\n\nThales and his followers say that there is but one earth. Hicetes the\nPythagorean, that there are two earths, this and the Antichthon, or\nthe earth opposite to it. The Stoics, that this earth is one, and that\nfinite and limited. Xenophanes, that the earth, being compacted of\nfire and air, in its lowest parts hath laid a foundation in an infinite\ndepth. Metrodorus, that the earth is mere sediment and dregs of water,\nas the sun is of the air.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X. OF THE FIGURE OF THE EARTH.\n\nThales, the Stoics, and their followers say that the earth is globular.\nAnaximander, that it resembles a smooth stony pillar. Anaximenes, that\nit hath the shape of a table. Leucippus, of a drum. Democritus, that it\nis like a quoit externally, and hollow in the middle.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI. OF THE SITE AND POSITION OF THE EARTH.\n\nThe disciples of Thales say that the earth is the centre of the\nuniverse. Xenophanes, that it is first, being rooted in the infinite\nspace. Philolaus the Pythagorean gives to fire the middle place,\nand this is the source fire of the universe; the second place to the\nAntichthon; the third to that earth which we inhabit, which is placed\nin opposition unto and whirled about the opposite,--which is the reason\nthat those which inhabit that earth cannot be seen by us. Parmenides was\nthe first that confined the habitable world to the two solstitial (or\ntemperate) zones.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII. OF THE INCLINATION OF THE EARTH.\n\nLeucippus affirms that the earth vergeth towards the southern parts, by\nreason of the thinness and fineness that is in the south; the northern\nparts are more compacted, they being congealed by a rigorous cold, but\nthose parts of the world that are opposite are enfired. Democritus,\nbecause, the southern parts of the air being the weaker, the earth as it\nenlarges bends towards the south; the northern parts are of an unequal,\nthe southern of an equal temperament; and this is the reason that the\nearth bends towards those parts where the earth is laden with fruits and\nits own increase.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII. OF THE MOTION OF THE EARTH.\n\nMost of the philosophers say that the earth remains fixed in the same\nplace. Philolaus the Pythagorean, that it is moved about the element of\nfire, in an oblique circle, after the same manner of motion that the sun\nand moon have. Heraclides of Pontus and Ecphantus the Pythagorean assign\na motion to the earth, but not progressive, but after the manner of a\nwheel being carried on its own axis; thus the earth (they say) turns\nitself upon its own centre from west to east. Democritus, that when the\nearth was first formed it had a motion, the parts of it being small and\nlight; but in process of time the parts of it were condensed, so that by\nits own weight it was poised and fixed.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV. INTO HOW MANY ZONES IS THE EARTH DIVIDED?\n\nPythagoras says that, as the celestial sphere is distributed into five\nzones, into the same number is the terrestrial; which zones are the\narctic and antarctic, the summer and winter tropics (or temperate\nzones), and the equinoctial; the middle of which zones equally divides\nthe earth and constitutes the torrid zone; but that portion which is in\nbetween the summer and winter tropics is habitable, by reason the air is\nthere temperate.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV. OF EARTHQUAKES.\n\nThales and Democritus assign the cause of earthquakes to water. The\nStoics say that it is a moist vapor contained in the earth, making an\nirruption into the air, that causes the earthquake. Anaximenes, that the\ndryness and rarity of the earth are the cause of earthquakes, the one of\nwhich is produced by extreme drought, the other by immoderate showers.\nAnaxagoras, that the air endeavoring to make a passage out of the earth,\nmeeting with a thick superficies, is not able to force its way, and so\nshakes the circumambient earth with a trembling. Aristotle, that a cold\nvapor encompassing every part of the earth prohibits the evacuation of\nvapors; for those which are hot, being in themselves light, endeavor to\nforce a passage upwards, by which means the dry exhalations, being left\nin the earth, use their utmost endeavor to make a passage out, and being\nwedged in, they suffer various circumvolutions and shake the earth.\nMetrodorus, that whatsoever is in its own place is incapable of motion,\nexcept it be pressed upon or drawn by the operation of another body; the\nearth being so seated cannot naturally be moved, yet divers parts\nand places of the earth may move one upon another. Parmenides and\nDemocritus, that the earth being so equally poised hath no sufficient\nground why it should incline more to one side than to the other; so that\nit may be shaken, but cannot be removed. Anaximenes, that the earth by\nreason of its latitude is borne upon by the air which presseth upon it.\nOthers opine that the earth swims upon the waters, as boards and broad\nplanks, and by that reason is moved. Plato, that motion is by six manner\nof ways, upwards, downwards, on the right hand and on the left, behind\nand before; therefore it is not possible that the earth should be moved\nin any of these modes, for it is altogether seated in the lowest place;\nit therefore cannot receive a motion, since there is nothing about it so\npeculiar as to cause it to incline any way; but some parts of it are\nso rare and thin that they are capable of motion. Epicurus, that the\npossibility of the earth's motion ariseth from a thick and aqueous\nair under the earth, that may, by moving or pushing it, be capable of\nquaking; or that being so compassed, and having many passages, it is\nshaken by the wind which is dispersed through the hollow dens of it.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI. OF THE SEA, AND HOW IT IS COMPOSED, AND HOW IT BECOMES TO\nTHE TASTE BITTER.\n\nAnaximander affirms that the sea is the remainder of the primogenial\nhumidity, the greatest part of which being dried up by the fire, the\ninfluence of the great heat altered its quality. Anaxagoras that in the\nbeginning water did not flow, but was as a standing pool; and that it\nwas burnt by the movement of the sun about it, by which the oily part of\nthe water being exhaled, the residue became salt. Empedocles, that the\nsea is the sweat of the earth heated by the sun. Antiphon, that the\nsweat of that which was hot was separated from the rest which were\nmoist; these by seething and boiling became bitter, as happens in all\nsweats. Metrodorus, that the sea was strained through the earth, and\nretained some part of its density; the same is observed in all those\nthings which are strained through ashes. The schools of Plato, that the\nelement of water being compacted by the rigor of the air became sweet,\nbut that part which was expired from the earth, being enfired, became of\na brackish taste.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII. OF TIDES, OR OF THE EBBING AND FLOWING OF THE SEA.\n\nAristotle and Heraclides say, they proceed from the sun, which moves\nand whirls about the winds; and these falling with a violence upon\nthe Atlantic, it is pressed and swells by them, by which means the sea\nflows; and their impression ceasing, the sea retracts, hence they ebb.\nPytheas the Massilian, that the fulness of the moon gives the flow, the\nwane the ebb. Plato attributes it all to a certain balance of the sea,\nwhich by means of a mouth or orifice causes the tide; and by this means\nthe seas do rise and flow alternately. Timaeus believes that those\nrivers which fall from the mountains of the Celtic Gaul into the\nAtlantic produce a tide. For upon their entering upon that sea, they\nviolently press upon it, and so cause the flow; but they disemboguing\nthemselves, there is a cessation of the impetuousness, by which means\nthe ebb is produced. Seleucus the mathematician attributes a motion to\nthe earth; and thus he pronounceth that the moon in its circumlation\nmeets and repels the earth in its motion; between these two, the earth\nand the moon, there is a vehement wind raised and intercepted, which\nrushes upon the Atlantic Ocean, and gives us a probable argument that it\nis the cause the sea is troubled and moved.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII. OF THE AUREA, OR A CIRCLE ABOUT A STAR.\n\nThe aurea or circle is thus formed. A thick and dark air intervening\nbetween the moon or any other star and our eye, by which means our sight\nis dilated and reflected, when now our sight falls upon the outward\ncircumference of the orb of that star, there presently seems a circle\nto appear. This circle thus appearing is called the [Greek omitted]\nor halo; and there is constantly such a circle seen by us, when such a\ndensity of sight happens.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IV.\n\nHaving taken a survey of the general parts of the world, I will\ntake a view of the particular members of it.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I. OF THE OVERFLOWING OF THE NILE.\n\nThales conjectures that the Etesian or anniversary northern winds\nblowing strongly against Egypt heighten the swelling of the Nile, the\nmouth of that river being obstructed by the force of the sea rushing\ninto it. Euthymenes the Massilian concludes that the Nile is filled\nby the ocean and that sea which is outward from it, the last being\nnaturally sweet. Anaxagoras, that the snow in Ethiopia which is\nfrozen in winter is melted in summer, and this makes the inundation.\nDemocritus, that the snows which are in the northern climates when the\nsun enters the summer solstice are dissolved and diffused; from those\nvapors clouds are compacted, and these are forcibly driven by the\nEtesian winds into the southern parts and into Egypt, from whence\nviolent showers are poured; and by this means the fens of Egypt are\nfilled with water, and the river Nile hath its inundation. Herodotus the\nhistorian, that the waters of the Nile receive from their fountain an\nequal portion of water in winter and in summer; but in winter the water\nappears less, because the sun, making its approach nearer to Egypt,\ndraws up the rivers of that country into exhalation. Ephorus the\nhistoriographer, that in summer all Egypt seems to be melted and sweats\nitself into water, to which the thin and sandy soils of Arabia and Lybia\ncontribute. Eudoxus relates that the Egyptian priests affirm that, when\nit is summer to us who dwell under the northern tropic, it is winter\nwith them that inhabit under the southern tropic; by this means there is\na various contrariety and opposition of the seasons in the year, which\ncause such showers to fall as make the water to overflow the banks of\nthe Nile and diffuse itself throughout all Egypt.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II. OF THE SOUL.\n\nThales first pronounced that the soul is that being which is in a\nperpetual motion, or that whose motion proceeds from itself. Pythagoras,\nthat it is a number moving itself; he takes a number to be the same\nthing with a mind. Plato, that it is an intellectual substance moving\nitself, and that motion is in a numerical harmony. Aristotle, that it is\nthe first actuality [Greek ommitted] of a natural organical body which\nhas life potentially; and this actuality must be understood to be the\nsame thing with energy or operation. Dicaearchus, that it is the\nharmony of the four elements. Asclepiades the physician, that it is the\nconcurrent exercitation of the senses.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III. WHETHER THE SOUL BE A BODY, AND WHAT IS THE NATURE AND\nESSENCE OF IT.\n\nAll those named by me do affirm that the soul itself is incorporeal, and\nby its own nature is in a motion, and in its own self is an intelligent\nsubstance, and the living actuality of a natural organical body. The\nfollowers of Anaxagoras, that it is airy and a body. The Stoics, that\nit is a hot exhalation. Democritus, that it is a fiery composition of\nthings which are perceptible by reason alone, the same having their\nforms spherical and without an inflaming faculty; and it is a body.\nEpicurus, that it is constituted of four qualities, of a fiery quality,\nof an aerial quality, a pneumatical, and of a fourth quality which hath\nno name, but it contains the virtue of the sense. Heraclitus, that the\nsoul of the world is the exhalation which proceeds from the moist\nparts of it; but the soul of animals, arising from exhalations that are\nexterior and from those that are within them, is homogeneous to it.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV. OF THE PARTS OF THE SOUL.\n\nPlato and Pythagoras, according to their first account, distribute the\nsoul into two parts, the rational and irrational. By a more accurate and\nstrict account the soul is branched into three parts; they divide the\nunreasonable part into the concupiscible and the irascible. The Stoics\nsay the soul is constituted of eight parts; five of which are the\nsenses, hearing, seeing, tasting, touching, smelling, the sixth is\nthe faculty of speaking, the seventh of generating, the eighth of\ncommanding; this is the principal of all, by which all the other are\nguided and ordered in their proper organs, as we see the eight arms of a\npolypus aptly disposed. Democritus and Epicurus divide the soul into two\nparts, the one rational, which bath its residence in the breast, and the\nirrational, which is diffused through the whole structure of the body.\nDemocritus, that the quality of the soul is communicated to everything,\nyea, to the dead corpses; for they are partakers of heat and some sense,\nwhen the most of both is expired out of them.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V. WHAT IS THE PRINCIPAL PART OF THE SOUL, AND IN WHAT PART OF\nTHE BODY IT RESIDES.\n\nPlato and Democritus place its residence in the whole head. Strato,\nin that part of the forehead where the eyebrows are separated.\nErasiatratus, in the Epikranis, or membrane which involves the brain.\nHerophilus, in that sinus of the brain which is the basis of it.\nParmenides, in the breast; which opinion is embraced by Epicurus. The\nStoics are generally of this opinion, that the seat of the soul is\nthroughout the heart, or in the spirit about it. Diogenes, in the\narterial ventricle of the heart, which is also full of vital spirit.\nEmpedocles, in the mass of the blood. There are that say it is in the\nneck of the heart, others in the pericardium, others in the midriff.\nCertain of the Neoterics, that the seat of the soul is extended from\nthe head to the diaphragm. Pythagoras, that the animal part of the soul\nresides in the heart, the intellectual in the head.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI. OF THE MOTION OF THE SOUL.\n\nPlato believes that the soul is in perpetual motion, but that it is\nimmovable as regards motion from place to place. Aristotle, that the\nsoul is not naturally moved, but its motion is accidental, resembling\nthat which is in the forms of bodies.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII. OF THE SOUL'S IMMORTALITY.\n\nPlato and Pythagoras say that the soul is immortal; when it departs out\nof the body, it retreats to the soul of the world, which is a being of\nthe same nature with it. The Stoics, when the souls leave the bodies,\nthey are carried to divers places; the souls of the unlearned and\nignorant descend to the coagmentation of earthly things, but the learned\nand vigorous last till the general fire. Epicurus and Democritus, the\nsoul is mortal, and it perisheth with the body. Plato and Pythagoras,\nthat part of the soul of man which is rational is eternal; for though it\nbe not God, yet it is the product of an eternal deity; but that part of\nthe soul which is divested of reason dies.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII. OF THE SENSES, AND OF THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE OBJECTS OF\nTHE SENSES,\n\nThe Stoics give this definition of sense: Sense is the Apprehension or\ncomprehension of an object by means of an organ of sensation. There\nare several ways of expressing what sense is; it is either a habit, a\nfaculty, an operation, or an imagination which apprehends by means of\nan organ of sense,--and also the eighth principal thing, from whence the\nsenses originate. The instruments of sense are intelligent exhalations,\nwhich from the said commanding part extend unto all the organs of the\nbody. Epicurus, that sense is a faculty, and that which is perceived\nby the sense is the product of it; so that sense hath a double\nacceptation,--sense which is the faculty, and the thing received by the\nsense, which is the effect. Plato, that sense is that commerce which\nthe soul and body have with those things that are exterior to them; the\npower of which is from the soul, the organ by which is from the body;\nbut both of them apprehend external objects by means of the imagination.\nLeucippus and Democritus, that sense and intelligence arise from\nexternal images; so neither of them can operate without the assistance\nof image falling upon us.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX. WHETHER WHAT APPEARS TO OUR SENSES AND IMAGINATIONS BE TRUE\nOR NOT.\n\nThe Stoics say that what the senses represent is true; what the\nimagination, is partly false, partly true. Epicurus that every\nimpression of the sense or imagination is true, but of those things that\nfall under the head of opinion, some are true, some false: sense gives\nus a false presentation of those things only which are the objects of\nour understanding; but the imagination gives us a double error, both of\nthings sensible and things intellectual. Empedocles and Heraclides,\nthat the senses act by a just accommodation of the pores in every case;\neverything that is perceived by the sense being congruously adapted to\nits proper organ.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X. HOW MANY SENSES ARE THERE?\n\nThe Stoics say that there are five senses properly so called, seeing,\nhearing, smelling, tasting, and touching. Aristotle indeed doth not add\na sixth sense; but he assigns a common sense, which is the judge of\nall compounded species; into this each sense casts its proper\nrepresentation, in which is discovered a transition of one thing into\nanother, like as we see in figure and motion where there is a change of\none into another. Democritus, that there are divers species of senses,\nwhich appertain to beings destitute of reason, to the gods, and to wise\nmen.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI. HOW THE ACTIONS OF THE SENSES, THE CONCEPTIONS OF OUR MINDS,\nAND THE HABIT OF OUR REASON ARE FORMED.\n\nThe Stoics affirm that every man, as soon as he is born, has a principal\nand commanding part of his soul, which is in him like a sheet of\nwriting-paper, to which he commits all his notions. The first manner of\nhis inscribing is by denoting those notions which flow from the senses.\nSuppose it be of a thing that is white; when the present sense of it is\nvanished, there is yet retained the remembrance; when many memorative\nnotions of the same similitude do concur, then he is said to have an\nexperience; for experience is nothing more than the abundance of notions\nthat are of the same form met together. Some of these notions are\nnaturally begotten according to the aforesaid manner, without the\nassistance of art; the others are produced by discipline, learning,\nand industry; these only are justly called notions, the others are\nprenotions. But reason, which gives us the denomination of rational, is\ncompleted by prenotions in the first seven years. The conception of\nthe mind is the vision that the intelligence of a rational animal hath\nreceived; when that vision falls upon the rational soul, then it is\ncalled the conception of the mind, for it hath derived its name from the\nmind [Greek omitted] from [Greek omitted]. Therefore these visions are\nnot to be found in any other animals; they only are appropriated to gods\nand to us men. If these we consider generally, they are phantasms; if\nspecifically, they are notions. As pence or staters, if you consider\nthem according to their own value, are simply pence and staters; but if\nyou give them as a price for a naval voyage, they are called not merely\npence, etc., but your freight.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII. WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN IMAGINATION [GREEK OMITTED],\nTHE IMAGINABLE [GREEK OMITTED], FANCY [GREEK OMITTED], AND PHANTOM\n[GREEK OMITTED]?\n\nChrysippus affirms, these four are different one from another.\nImagination is that passion raised in the soul which discovers itself\nand that which was the efficient of it; to use example, after the eye\nhath looked upon a thing that is white, the sight of which produceth in\nthe mind a certain impression, this gives us reason to conclude that the\nobject of this impression is white, which affecteth us. So with touching\nand smelling Phantasy or imagination is denominated from [Greek omitted]\nwhich denotes light; for as light discovers itself and all other things\nwhich it illuminates, so this imagination discovers itself and that\nwhich is the cause of it. The imaginable is the efficient cause of\nimagination; as anything that is white, or anything that is cold, or\neverything that may make an impression upon the imagination. Fancy is\na vain impulse upon the mind of man, proceeding from nothing which is\nreally conceivable; this is experienced in those that whirl about their\nidle hand and fight with shadows; for to the imagination there is always\nsome real imaginable thing presented, which is the efficient cause of\nit; but to the fancy nothing. A phantom is that to which we are brought\nby such a fanciful and vain attraction; this is to be seen in melancholy\nand distracted persons. Of this sort was Orestes in the tragedy,\npronouncing these words:\n\n     Mother, these maids with horror me affright;\n     Oh bring them not, I pray, into my sight!\n     They're smeared with blood, and cruel, dragon-like,\n     Skipping about with deadly fury strike.\n\nThese rave as frantic persons, they see nothing, and yet imagine they\nsee. Thence Electra thus returns to him:\n\n     O wretched man, securely sleep in bed;\n     Nothing thou seest, thy fancy's vainly led.\n     (Euripides, \"Orestes\", 255.)\n\nAfter the same manner Theoclymenus in Homer.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII. OF OUR SIGHT, AND BY WHAT MEANS WE SEE.\n\nDemocritus and Epicurus suppose that sight is caused by the insertion\nof little images into the visive organ, and by the reception of certain\nrays which return to the eye after meeting the object. Empedocles\nsupposes that images are mixed with the rays of the eye; these he styles\nthe rays of images. Hipparchus, that the visual rays extend from\nboth the eyes to the superficies of bodies, and give to the sight the\napprehension of those same bodies, after the same manner in which the\nhand touching the extremity of bodies gives the sense of feeling. Plato,\nthat the sight is the splendor of united rays; there is a light which\nreaches some distance from the eyes into a cognate air, and there is\nlikewise a light shed from bodies, which meets and joins with the fiery\nvisual light in the intermediate air (which is liquid and mutable);\nand the union of these rays gives the sense of seeing. This is Plato's\ncorradiancy, or splendor of united rays.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV. OF THOSE IMAGES WHICH ARE PRESENTED TO OUR EYES IN MIRRORS.\n\nEmpedocles says that these images are caused by certain effluxes which,\nmeeting together and resting upon the superficies of the mirror, are\nperfected by that fiery element emitted by the said mirror, which\ntransforms withal the air that surrounds it. Democritus and Epicurus,\nthat the specular appearances are made by the subsistence of the images\nwhich flow from our eyes; these fall upon the mirror and remain, while\nthe light returns to the eye. The followers of Pythagoras explain it by\nthe reflection of the sight; for our sight being extended (as it were)\nto the brass, and meeting with the smooth dense surface thereof it is\nforced back, and caused to return upon itself: the same takes place in\nthe hand, when it is stretched out and then brought back again to the\nshoulder. Any one may use these instances to explain the manner of\nseeing.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV. WHETHER DARKNESS CAN BE VISIBLE TO US.\n\nThe Stoics say that darkness is seen by us, for out of our eyes there\nissues out some light into it; and our eyes do not impose upon us, for\nthey really perceive there is darkness. Chrysippus says that we see\ndarkness by the striking of the intermediate air; for the visual spirits\nwhich proceed from the principal part of the soul and reach to the ball\nof the eye pierce this air, which, after they have made those strokes\nupon it, extend conically on the surrounding air, where this is\nhomogeneous in quality. For from the eyes those rays are poured forth\nwhich are neither black nor cloudy. Upon this account darkness is\nvisible to us.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI. OF HEARING.\n\nEmpedocles says that hearing is formed by the insidency of the air upon\nthe cochlea, which it is said hangs within the ear as a bell, and is\nbeat upon by the air. Alcmaeon, that the vacuity that is within the\near makes us to have the sense of hearing, for the air forcing a vacuum\ngives the sound; every inanity affords a ringing. Diogenes the air which\nexists in the head, being struck upon by the voice gives the hearing.\nPlato and his followers, the air which exists in the head being struck\nupon, is reflected to the principal part of the soul, and this causeth\nthe sense of hearing.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII. OF SMELLING.\n\nAlcmaeon believes that the principal part of the soul, residing in the\nbrain, draws to itself odors by respiration. Empedocles, that scents\ninsert themselves into the breathing of the lungs; for, when there is a\ngreat difficulty in breathing, odors are not perceived by reason of the\nsharpness; and this we experience in those who have the defluxion of\nrheum.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII. OF TASTE.\n\nAlcmaeon says that a moist warmth in the tongue, joined with the\nsoftness of it, gives the difference of taste. Diogenes, that by the\nsoftness and sponginess of the tongue, and because the veins of the\nbody are joined in it, tastes are diffused by the tongue; for they are\nattracted from it to that sense and to the commanding part of the soul,\nas from a sponge.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX. OF THE VOICE.\n\nPlato thus defines a voice,--that it is a breath drawn by the mind\nthrough the mouth, and a blow impressed on the air and through the ear,\nbrain, and blood transmitted to the soul. Voice is abusively attributed\nto irrational and inanimate beings; thus we improperly call the neighing\nof horses or any other sound by the name of voice. But properly a\nvoice [Greek omitted] is an articulate sound, which illustrates [Greek\nomitted] the understanding of man. Epicurus says that it is an efflux\nemitted from things that are vocal, or that give sounds or great\nnoises; this is broken into those fragments which are after the same\nconfiguration. Like figures are round figures with round, and irregular\nand triangular with those of the same kind. These falling upon the ears\nproduce the sense of hearing. This is seen in leaking vessels, and in\nfullers when they fan or blow their cloths.\n\nDemocritus, that the air is broken into bodies of similar configuration,\nand these are rolled up and down with the fragments of the voice; as it\nis proverbially said, One daw lights with another, or, God always brings\nlike to like. Thus we see upon the seashore, that stones like to one\nanother are found in the same place, in one place the long-shaped, in\nanother the round are seen. So in sieves, things of the same form meet\ntogether, but those that are different are divided; as pulse and beans\nfalling from the same sieve are separated one from another. To this it\nmay be objected: How can some fragments of air fill a theatre in which\nthere is an infinite company of persons. The Stoics, that the air is not\ncomposed of small fragments, but is a continued body and nowhere admits\na vacuum; and being struck with the air, it is infinitely moved in waves\nand in right circles, until it fill that air which surrounds it; as we\nsee in a fish-pool which we smite by a falling stone cast upon it; yet\nthe air is moved spherically, the water orbicularly. Anaxagoras says a\nvoice is then formed when upon a solid air the breath is incident, which\nbeing repercussed is carried to the ears; after the same manner the echo\nis produced.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX. WHETHER THE VOICE IS INCORPOREAL. WHAT IS IT THAT THE GIVES\nECHO?\n\nPythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle declare that the voice is incorporeal;\nfor it is not the air that causes the voice, but the figure which\ncompasseth the air and its superficies having received a stroke, give\nthe voice. But every superficies of itself is incorporeal. It is true\nthat it move with the body but itself it hath no body; as we observe in\na staff that is bended, the matter only admits of an inflection, while\nthe superficies doth not. According to the Stoics a voice is corporeal\nsince everything that is an agent or operates is a body; a voice acts\nand operates, for we hear it and are sensible of it; for it falls and\nmakes an impression on the ear, as a seal of a ring gives its similitude\nupon the wax. Besides, everything that creates a delight or injury is\na body; harmonious music affects with delight, but discord is tiresome.\nAnd everything that moved is a body; and the voice moves, and having its\nillapse upon smooth places is reflected, as when a ball is cast against\na wall it rebounds. A voice spoken in the Egyptian pyramids is so\nbroken, that it gives four or five echoes.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI. BY WHAT MEANS THE SOUL IS SENSIBLE, AND WHAT IS THE\nPRINCIPAL AND COMMANDING PART OF IT.\n\nThe Stoics say that the highest part of the soul is the commanding part\nof it: this is the cause of sense, fancy, consents, and desires; and\nthis we call the rational part. From this principal and commander there\nare produced seven parts of the soul, which are spread through the body,\nas the seven arms in a polypus. Of these seven parts, five are assigned\nto the senses, seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching. Sight is a\nspirit which is extended from the commanding part of the eyes; hearing\nis that spirit which from the principle reacheth to the ears; smelling\na spirit drawn from the principal to the nostrils; tasting a spirit\nextended from the principle to the tongue; touching is a spirit which\nfrom the principal is drawn to the extremity of those bodies which\nare obnoxious to a sensible touch. Of the rest, the one called the\nspermatical is a spirit which reacheth from the principal to the\ngenerating vessels; the other, which is the vocal and termed the voice,\nis a spirit extended from the principal to the throat, tongue, and other\nproper organs of speaking. And this principal part itself hath that\nplace in our spherical head which God hath in the world.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII. OF RESPIRATION OR BREATHING.\n\nEmpedocles thinks, that the first breath the first animal drew was when\nthe moisture in the embryo was separated, and by that means an entrance\nwas given to the external air into the gaping vessels, the moisture in\nthem being evacuated. After this the natural heat, in a violent force\npressing upon the external air for a passage, begets an expiration; but\nthis heat returning to the inward parts, and the air giving way to it,\ncauseth a respiration. The respiration that now is arises when the blood\nis borne to the exterior surface, and by this movement drives the\nairy substance through the nostrils; thus in its recess it causeth\nexpiration, but the air being again forced into those places which\nare emptied of blood, it causeth an inspiration. To explain which, he\nproposeth the instance of a water-clock, which gives the account of time\nby the running of water.\n\nAsclepiades supposeth the lungs to be in the manner of a funnel, and the\ncause of breathing to be the fineness of the inward parts of the breast;\nfor thither the outward air which is more gross hastens, but is forced\nbackward, the breast not being capable either to receive or want it. But\nthere being always some of the more tenuous parts of the air left, so\nthat all of it is not exploded, to that which there remains the more\nponderous external air with equal violence is forced; and this he\ncompares to cupping-glasses. All spontaneous breathings are formed by\nthe contracting of the smaller pores of the lungs, and to the closing of\nthe pipe in the neck; for these are at our command.\n\nHerophilus attributes a moving faculty to the nerves, arteries, and\nmuscles, but thinks that the lungs are affected only with a natural\ndesire of enlarging and contracting themselves. Farther, there is the\nfirst operation of the lungs by attraction of the outward air, which\nis drawn in because of the abundance of the external air. Next to this,\nthere is a second natural appetite of the lungs; the breast, pouring in\nupon itself the breath, and being filled, is no longer able to make an\nattraction, and throws the superfluity of it upon the lungs, whereby\nit is then sent forth in expiration; the parts of the body mutually\nconcurring to this function by the alternate participation of fulness\nand emptiness. So that to lungs pertain four motions--first, when the\nlungs receive the outward air; secondly, when the outward air thus\nentertained is transmitted to the breast; thirdly, when the lungs again\nreceive that air which they imparted to the breast; fourthly, when this\nair then received from the breast is thrown outwards. Of these four\nprocesses two are dilatations, one when the lungs attract the air,\nanother when the breast dischargeth itself of it upon the lungs; two are\ncontractions, one when the breast draws into itself the air, the second\nwhen it expels this which was insinuated into it. The breast admits only\nof two motions--of dilatation, when it draws from the lungs the breath,\nand of contraction, when it returns what it did receive.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII. OF THE PASSIONS OF THE BODY, AND WHETHER THE SOUL HATH A\nSYMPATHETICAL CONDOLENCY WITH IT.\n\nThe Stoics say that all the passions are seated in those parts of\nthe body which are affected, the senses have their residence in the\ncommanding part of the soul. Epicurus, that all the passions and all the\nsenses are in those parts which are affected, but the commanding part is\nsubject to no passion. Strato, that all the passions and senses of the\nsoul are in the rational or commanding part of it, and are not fixed in\nthose places which are affected; for in this place patience takes its\nresidence, and this is apparent in terrible and dolorous things, as also\nin timorous and valiant individuals.\n\n\n\n\n\nBOOK V\n\nCHAPTER I. OF DIVINATION.\n\nPlato and the Stoics introduce divination as a godlike enthusiasm, the\nsoul itself being of a divine constitution, and this prophetic faculty\nbeing inspiration, or an illapse of the divine knowledge into man; and\nso likewise they account for interpretation by dreams. And these same\nallow many divisions of the art of divination. Xenophanes and Epicurus\nutterly refuse any such art of foretelling future contingencies.\nPythagoras rejects all manner of divination which is by sacrifices.\nAristotle and Dicaearchus admit only these two kinds of it, a fury by a\ndivine inspiration, and dreams; they deny the immortality of the soul,\nyet they affirm that the mind of man hath a participation of something\nthat is divine.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II. WHENCE DREAMS DO ARISE.\n\nDemocritus says that dreams are formed by the illapse of adventitious\nrepresentations. Strato, that the irrational part of the soul in sleep\nbecoming more sensible is moved by the rational part of it. Herophilus,\nthat dreams which are caused by divine instinct have a necessary cause;\nbut dreams which have their origin from a natural cause arise from\nthe soul's forming within itself the images of those things which are\nconvenient for it, and which will happen; those dreams which are of a\nconstitution mixed of both these have their origin from the fortuitous\nappulse of images, as when we see those things which please us; thus\nit happens many times to those persons who in their sleep imagine they\nembrace their mistresses.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III. OF THE NATURE OF GENERATIVE SEED.\n\nAristotle says, that seed is that thing which contains in itself a power\nof moving, whereby it is enabled to produce a being like unto that from\nwhence it was emitted. Pythagoras, that seed is the sediment of that\nwhich nourisheth us, the froth of the purest blood, of the same nature\nof the blood and marrow of our bodies. Alcmaeon, that it is part of the\nbrain. Plato, that it is the deflux of the spinal marrow. Epicurus,\nthat it is a fragment torn from the body and soul. Democritus, that it\nproceeds from all the parts of the body, and chiefly from the principal\nparts, as the tissues and muscles.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV. WHETHER THE SPERM BE A BODY.\n\nLeucippus and Zeno say, that it is a body and a fragment of the\nsoul. Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle, that the spermatic faculty is\nincorporeal, as the mind is which moves the body; but the effused matter\nis corporeal. Strato and Democritus, that the essential power is a body;\nfor it is like spirit.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V. WHETHER WOMEN DO GIVE A SPERMATIC EMISSION AS MEN DO.\n\nPythagoras, Epicurus, and Democritus say, that women have a seminal\nprojection, but their spermatic vessels are inverted; and it is this\nthat makes them have a venereal appetite. Aristotle and Plato, that\nthey emit a material moisture, as sweat we see produced by exercise and\nlabor; but that moisture has no spermatic power. Hippo, that women\nhave a seminal emission, but not after the mode of men; it contributes\nnothing to generation, for it falls outside of the matrix; and therefore\nsome women without coition, especially widows, give the seed. They also\nassert that from men the bones, from women the flesh proceed.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI. HOW IT IS THAT CONCEPTIONS ARE MADE.\n\nAristotle says, that conception takes place when the womb is drawn down\nby the natural purgation, and the monthly terms attract from the whole\nmass part of the purest blood, and this is met by the seed of man. On\nthe contrary, there is a failure by the impurity and inflation of the\nwomb, by fear and grief, by the weakness of women, or the decline of\nstrength in men.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII. AFTER WHAT MANNER MALES AND FEMALES ARE GENERATED.\n\nEmpedocles affirms, that heat and cold give the difference in the\ngeneration of males and females. Hence is it, as histories acquaint us,\nthat the first men originated from the earth in the eastern and southern\nparts, and the first females in the northern parts. Parmenides is of\nopinion perfectly contrariant. He affirms that men first sprouted out\nof the northern earth, for their bodies are more dense; women out of\nthe southern, for theirs are more rare and fine. Hippo, that the more\ncompacted and strong sperm, and the more fluid and weak, discriminate\nthe sexes. Anaxagoras and Parmenides, that the seed of the man is\nnaturally cast from his right side into the right side of the womb, or\nfrom the left side of the man into the left side of the womb; there\nis an alteration in this course of nature when females are generated.\nCleophanes, whom Aristotle makes mention of, assigns the generation of\nmen to the right testicle, of women to the left. Leucippus gives the\nreason of it to the alteration or diversity of parts, according to which\nthe man hath a yard, the female the matrix; as to any other reason he is\nsilent. Democritus, that the parts common to both sexes are engendered\nindifferently; but the peculiar parts by the one that is more powerful.\nHippo, that if the spermatic faculty be more effectual, the male, if the\nnutritive aliment, the female is generated.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII. BY WHAT MEANS IT IS THAT MONSTROUS BIRTHS ARE EFFECTED.\n\nEmpedocles believes that monsters receive their origination from the\nabundance or defect of seed, or from its division into parts which are\nsuperabundant, or from some disturbance in the motion, or else that\nthere is an error by a lapse into an unsuitable receptacle; and thus he\npresumes he hath given all the causes of monstrous conceptions. Strato,\nthat it comes through addition, subtraction, or transposition of the\nseed, or the distension or inflation of the matrix. And some physicians\nsay that the matrix suffers distortion, being distended with wind.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX. HOW IT COMES TO PASS THAT A WOMAN'S TOO FREQUENT\nCONVERSATION WITH A MAN HINDERS CONCEPTION.\n\nDiocles the physician says that either no genital sperm is projected,\nor, if there be, it is in a less quantity than nature requires, or\nthere is no prolific faculty in it; or there is a deficiency of a\ndue proportion of heat, cold, moisture, and dryness; or there is a\nresolution of the generative parts. The Stoics attribute sterility to\nthe obliquity of the yard, by which means it is not able to ejaculate\nin a due manner, or to the unproportionable magnitude of the parts,\nthe matrix being so contracted as not to have a capacity to receive.\nErasistratus assigns it to the womb's being more callous or more\ncarneous, thinner or smaller, than nature does require.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X. WHENCE IT IS THAT ONE BIRTH GIVES TWO OR THREE CHILDREN.\n\nEmpedocles affirms, that the superabundance of sperm and the division of\nit causes the bringing forth of two or three infants. Asclepiades,\nthat it is performed from the excellent quality of the sperm, after the\nmanner that from the root of one barleycorn two or three stalks do grow;\nsperm that is of this quality is the most prolific. Erasistratus, that\nsuperfetation may happen to women as to irrational creatures; for, if\nthe womb be well purged and very clean, then there can be divers births.\nThe Stoics, that it ariseth from the various receptacles that are in the\nwomb: when the seed illapses into the first and second of them at once,\nthen there are conceptions upon conception; and so two or three infants\nare born.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI. WHENCE IT IS THAT CHILDREN REPRESENT THEIR PARENTS AND\nPROGENITORS.\n\nEmpedocles says, that the similitude of children to their parents\nproceeds from the vigorous prevalency of the generating sperm; the\ndissimilitude from the evaporation of the natural heat it contains.\nParmenides, that when the sperm falls on the right side of the womb,\nthen the infant gives the resemblance of the father; if from the left,\nit is stamped with the similitude of the mother. The Stoics, that the\nwhole body and soul give the sperm; and hence arise the likenesses\nin the characters and faces of the children, as a painter in his copy\nimitates the colors in a picture before him. Women have a concurrent\nemission of seed; if the feminine seed have the predominancy, the child\nresembles the mother; if the masculine, the father.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII. HOW IT COMES TO PASS THAT CHILDREN HAVE A GREATER\nSIMILITUDE WITH STRANGERS THAN WITH THEIR PARENTS.\n\nThe greatest part of physicians affirm, that this happens casually\nand fortuitously; for, when the sperm of the man and woman is too much\nrefrigerated, then children carry a dissimilitude to their parents.\nEmpedocles, that a woman's imagination in conception impresses a shape\nupon the infant; for women have been enamoured with images and statues,\nand the children which were born of them gave their similitudes. The\nStoics, that the resemblances flow from the sympathy and consent of\nminds, through the insertion of effluvias and rays, not of images or\npictures.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII. WHENCE ARISETH BARRENNESS IN WOMEN, AND IMPOTENCY IN MEN?\n\nThe physicians maintain, that sterility in women can arise from the\nwomb; for if it be after any ways thus affected, there will be a\nbarrenness,--if it be more condensed, or more thin, or more hardened,\nor more callous, or more carneous; or it may be from languor, or from\nan atrophy or vicious condition of body; or, lastly, it may arise from\na twisted or distorted position. Diocles holds that the sterility in\nmen ariseth from some of these causes,--either that they cannot at all\nejaculate any sperm, or if they do, it is less than nature doth require,\nor else there is no generative faculty in the sperm, or the genital\nmembers are flagging; or from the obliquity of the yard. The Stoics\nattribute the cause of sterility to the contrariant qualities and\ndispositions of those who lie with one another; but if it chance that\nthese persons are separated, and there happen a conjunction of those who\nare of a suitable temperament, then there is a commixture according to\nnature, and by this means an infant is formed.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV. HOW IT ARISES THAT MULES ARE BARREN.\n\nAlcmaeon says, that the barrenness of the male mules ariseth from the\nthinness of the genital sperm, that is, the seed is too chill; the\nfemale mules are barren, because the womb does not open its mouth (as\nhe expresses it). Empedocles, the matrix of the mule is so small, so\ndepressed, so narrow, so invertedly growing to the belly, that the sperm\ncannot be regularly ejaculated into it, and if it could, there would\nbe no capacity to receive it. Diocles concurs in this opinion with him;\nfor, saith he, in our anatomical dissection of mules we have seen that\ntheir matrices are of such configurations; and it is possible that there\nmay be the same reason why some women are barren.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV. WHETHER THE INFANT IN THE MOTHER'S WOMB BE AN ANIMAL.\n\nPlato says, that the embryo is an animal; for, being contained in the\nmother's womb, motion and aliment are imparted to it. The Stoics say\nthat it is not an animal, but to be accounted part of the mother's\nbelly; like as we see the fruit of trees is esteemed part of the trees,\nuntil it be full ripe; then it falls and ceaseth to belong to the\ntree; thus it is with the embryo. Empedocles, that the embryo is not an\nanimal, yet whilst it remains in the belly it breathes. The first breath\nthat it draws as an animal is when the infant is newly born; then\nthe child having its moisture separated, the extraneous air making an\nentrance into the empty places, a respiration is caused in the infant by\nthe empty vessels receiving of it. Diogenes, that infants are nurtured\nin the matrix inanimate, yet they have a natural heat; but presently,\nwhen the infant is cast into the open air, its heat brings air into\nthe lungs, and so it becomes an animal. Herophilus acknowledgeth that a\nnatural, but not an animal motion, and that the nerves are the cause of\nthat motion; that then they become animals, when being first born they\nsuck in something of the air.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI. HOW EMBRYOS ARE NOURISHED, OR HOW THE INFANT IN THE BELLY\nRECEIVES ITS ALIMENT.\n\nDemocritus and Epicurus say, that the embryos in the womb receive their\naliment by the mouth, for we perceive, as soon as ever the infant is\nborn, it applies its mouth to the breast; in the wombs of women (our\nunderstanding concludes) there are little dugs, and the embryos have\nsmall mouths by which they receive their nutriment. The Stoics, that\nby the secundines and navel they partake of aliment, and therefore\nthe midwife instantly after their birth ties the navel, and opens the\ninfant's mouth, that it may receive another sort of aliment. Alcmaeon,\nthat they receive their nourishment from every part of the body; as a\nsponge sucks in water.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII. WHAT PART OF THE BODY IS FIRST FORMED IN THE WOMB.\n\nThe Stoics believe that the whole is formed at the same time. Aristotle,\nas the keel of a ship is first made, so the first part that is formed\nis the loins. Alcmaeon, the head, for that is the commanding and the\nprincipal part of the body. The physicians, the heart, in which are the\nveins and arteries. Some think the great toe is first formed; others\naffirm the navel.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII. WHENCE IS IT THAT INFANTS BORN IN THE SEVENTH MONTH ARE BORN ALIVE.\n\nEmpedocles says, that when the human race took first its original from\nthe earth, the sun was so slow in its motion that then one day in its\nlength was equal to ten months, as now they are; in process of time one\nday became as long as seven months are; and there is the reason that\nthose infants which are born at the end of seven months or ten months\nare born alive, the course of nature so disposing that the infant\nshall be brought to maturity in one day after that night in which it is\nbegotten. Timaeus says, that we count not ten months but nine, by reason\nthat we reckon the first conception from the stoppage of the menstruas;\nand so it may generally pass for seven months when really there are not\nseven; for it sometimes occurs that even after conception a woman is\npurged to some extent. Polybus, Diocles, and the Empirics, acknowledge\nthat the eighth month gives a vital birth to the infant, though the\nlife of it is more faint and languid; many therefore we see born in that\nmonth die out of mere weakness. Though we see many born in that month\narrive at the state of man, yet (they affirm) if children be born in\nthat month, none wish to rear them.\n\nAristotle and Hippocrates, that if the womb is full in seven months,\nthen the child falls from the mother and is born alive, but if it falls\nfrom her but is not nourished, the navel being weak on account of\nthe weight of the infant, then it doth not thrive; but if the infant\ncontinues nine months in the womb, and then comes forth from the woman,\nit is entire and perfect. Polybus, that a hundred and eighty-two days\nand a half suffice for the bringing forth of a living child; that is,\nsix months, in which space of time the sun moves from one tropic to the\nother; and this is called seven months, for the days which are over plus\nin the sixth are accounted to give the seventh month. Those children\nwhich are born in the eighth month cannot live, for, the infant then\nfalling from the womb, the navel, which is the cause of nourishment, is\nthereby too much wrenched; and is the reason that the infant languishes\nand hath an atrophy. The astrologers, that eight months are enemies to\nevery birth, seven are friends and kind to it. The signs of the zodiac\nare then enemies, when they fall upon those stars which are lords\nof houses; whatever infant is then born will have a life short and\nunfortunate. Those signs of the zodiac which are malevolent and\ninjurious to generation are those pairs of which the final is reckoned\nthe eighth from the first, as the first and the eighth, the second and\nthe ninth, etc; so is the Ram unsociable with Scorpio, the Bull with\nSagittarius, the Twins with the Goat, the Crab with Aquarius, the Lion\nwith Pisces, the Virgin with the Ram. Upon this reason those infants\nthat are born in the seventh or tenth months are like to live, but those\nin the eighth month will die.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX. OF THE GENERATION OF ANIMALS, HOW ANIMALS ARE BEGOTTEN, AND\nWHETHER THEY ARE OBNOXIOUS TO CORRUPTION.\n\nThose philosophers who entertain the opinion that the world had\nan original do likewise assert that all animals are generated and\ncorruptible. The followers of Epicurus, who gives an eternity to\nthe world, affirm the generation of animals ariseth from the various\npermutation of parts mutually among themselves, for they are parts of\nthis world. With them Anaxagoras and Euripides concur:\n\n                           Nothing dies,\n     Different changes give their various forms.\n\nAnaximander's opinion is, that the first animals were generated in\nmoisture, and were enclosed in bark on which thorns grew; but in process\nof time they came upon dry land, and this thorny bark with which they\nwere covered being broken, they lived only for a short space of time.\nEmpedocles says, that the first generation of animals and plants was by\nno means completed, for the parts were disjoined and would not admit of\na union; the second preparation and for their being generated was when\ntheir parts were united and appeared in the form of images; the third\npreparation for generation was when their parts mutually amongst\nthemselves gave a being to one another; the fourth, when there was no\nlonger a mixture of like elements (as earth and water), but a union of\nanimals among themselves,--in some the nourishment being made dense, in\nothers female beauty provoking a desire of spermatic motion. All\nsorts of animals are discriminated by their proper temperament and\nconstitution; some are carried by a proper appetite and inclination to\nwater, some, which partake of a more fiery quality, to live in the air\nthose that are heavier incline to the earth; but those animals whose\nparts are of a just temperament are fitted equally for all places.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX. HOW MANY SPECIES OF ANIMALS THERE ARE, AND WHETHER ALL\nANIMALS HAVE THE ENDOWMENTS OF SENSE AND REASON.\n\nThere is a certain treatise of Aristotle, in which animals are\ndistributed into four kinds, terrestrial, aqueous, fowl, and heavenly;\nand he calls the stars and the world too animals, yea, and God himself\nhe posits to be an animal gifted with reason and immortal. Democritus\nand Epicurus consider all animals rational which have their residence in\nthe heavens. Anaxagoras says that animals have only that reason which\nis operative, but not that which is passive, which is justly styled the\ninterpreter of the mind, and is like the mind itself. Pythagoras and\nPlato, that the souls of all those who are styled brutes are rational;\nbut by the evil constitution of their bodies, and because they have\na want of a discoursive faculty, they do not conduct themselves\nrationally. This is manifested in apes and dogs, which have inarticulate\nvoice but not speech. Diogenes, that this sort of animals are partakers\nof intelligence and air, but by reason of the density in some parts of\nthem, and by the superfluity of moisture in others, they neither enjoy\nunderstanding nor sense; but they are affected as madmen are, the\ncommanding rational part being defectuous and injured.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI. WHAT TIME IS REQUIRED TO SHAPE THE PARTS OF ANIMALS IN THE\nWOMB.\n\nEmpedocles believes, that the joints of men begin to be formed from the\nthirty-sixth day, and their shape is completed in the nine and fortieth.\nAsclepiades, that male embryos, by reason of a greater natural heat,\nhave their joints begun to be formed in the twenty-sixth day,--many even\nsooner,--and that they are completed in all their parts on the fiftieth\nday; the parts of the females are articulated in two months, but by the\ndefect of heat are not consummated till the fourth; but the members of\nbrutes are completed at various times, according to the commixture of\nthe elements of which they consist.\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII. OF WHAT ELEMENTS EACH OF THE MEMBERS OF US MEN IS\nCOMPOSED.\n\nEmpedocles says, that the fleshy parts of us are constituted by the\ncontemperation of the four elements in us; earth and fire mixed with\na double proportion of water make nerves; but when it happens that the\nnerves are refrigerated where they come in contact with the air, then\nthe nails are made; the bones are produced by two parts of water and\nthe same of air, with four parts of fire and the same of earth, mixed\ntogether; sweat and tears flow from liquefaction of bodies.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII. WHAT ARE THE CAUSES OF SLEEP AND DEATH?\n\nAlcmaeon says, that sleep is caused when the blood retreats to the\nconcourse of the veins, but when the blood diffuses itself then we\nawake and when there is a total retirement of the blood, then men die.\nEmpedocles, that a moderate cooling of the blood causeth sleep, but a\ntotal remotion of heat from blood causeth death. Diogenes, that when all\nthe blood is so diffused as that it fills all the veins, and forces the\nair contained in them to the back and to the belly that is below it, the\nbreast being thereby more heated, thence sleep arises, but if everything\nthat is airy in the breast forsakes the veins, then death succeeds.\nPlato and the Stoics, that sleep ariseth from the relaxation of the\nsensitive spirit, it not receiving such total relaxing as if it fell to\nthe earth, but so that that spirit is carried about the intestine, parts\nof the eyebrows, in which the principal part has its residence; but when\nthere is a total relaxing of the sensitive spirit, death ensues.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV. WHEN AND FROM WHENCE THE PERFECTION OF A MAN COMMENCES.\n\nHeraclitus and the Stoics say, that men begin their completeness when\nthe second septenary of years begins, about which time the seminal serum\nis emitted. Trees first begin their perfection when they give their\nseeds; till then they are immature, imperfect, and unfruitful. After the\nsame manner a man is completed in the second septenary of years, and is\ncapable of learning what is good and evil, and of discipline therein.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV. WHETHER SLEEP OR DEATH APPERTAINS TO THE SOUL OR BODY.\n\nAristotle's opinion is, that both the soul and body sleep; and this\nproceeds from the evaporation in the breast, which doth steam and arise\ninto the head, and from the aliment in the stomach, whose proper heat is\ncooled in the heart. Death is the perfect refrigeration of all heat in\nbody; but death is only of the body, and not of the soul, for the soul\nis immortal. Anaxagoras thinks, that sleep makes the operations of the\nbody to cease; it is a corporeal passion and affects not the soul. Death\nis the separation of the soul from the body. Leucippus, that sleep\nis only of the body; but when the smaller particles cause excessive\nevaporation from the soul's heat, this makes death; but these affections\nof death and sleep are of the body, not of the soul. Empedocles, that\ndeath is nothing else but separation of those fiery parts by which man\nis composed, and according to this sentiment both body and soul die; but\nsleep is only a smaller separation of the fiery qualities.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI. HOW PLANTS INCREASE.\n\nPlato and Empedocles believe, that plants are animals, and are informed\nwith a soul; of this there are clear arguments, for they have tossing\nand shaking, and their branches are extended; when the woodmen bend them\nthey yield, but they return to their former straightness and strength\nagain when they are let loose, and even carry up weights that are laid\nupon them. Aristotle doth grant that they live, but not that they are\nanimals; for animals are affected with appetite, sense, and reason. The\nStoics and Epicureans deny that they are informed with a soul; by reason\nthat all sorts of animals have either sense, appetite, or reason; but\nplants act fortuitously, and not by means of any soul. Empedocles, that\nthe first of all animals were trees, and they sprang from the earth\nbefore the sun in its motion enriched the world, and before day\nand night were distinguished; but by the harmony which is in their\nconstitution they partake of a masculine and feminine nature; and they\nincrease by that heat which is exalted out of the earth, so that they\nare parts belonging to it, as embryos in the womb are parts of the womb.\nFruits in plants are excrescences proceeding from water and fire;\nbut the plants which lack water, when this is dried up by the heat of\nsummer, shed their leaves; whereas they that have plenty thereof keep\ntheir leaves on, as the olive, laurel, and palm. The differences of\ntheir moisture and juice arise from the difference of particles\nand various other causes, and they are discriminated by the various\nparticles that feed them. And this is apparent in vines for the\nexcellence of wine flows not from the difference in the vines, but from\nthe soil from whence they receive their nutriment.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII. OF NUTRITION AND GROWTH.\n\nEmpedocles believes, that animals are nourished by the remaining in them\nof that which is proper to their own nature; they are augmented by the\napplication of heat; and the subtraction of either of these makes\nthem to languish and decay. The stature of men in this present age, if\ncompared with the magnitude of those men which were first produced, is\nonly a mere infancy.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII. WHENCE IT IS THAT IN ANIMALS THERE ARE APPETITES AND\nPLEASURES.\n\nEmpedocles says that the want of those elements which compose animals\ngives to them appetite, and pleasures spring from humidity. As to the\nmotions of dangers and such like things as perturbations, etc....\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX. WHAT IS THE CAUSE OF A FEVER, OR WHETHER IT IS AN\nAFFECTION OF THE BODY ANNEXED TO A PRIMARY PASSION\n\nErasistratus gives this definition of a fever: A fever is a quick motion\nof blood, not produced by our consent, which enters into the vessels,\nthe seat of the vital spirits. This we see in the sea; it is in a\nserene calm when nothing disturbs it, but is in motion when a violent\npreternatural wind blows upon it, and then it rageth and is circled with\nwaves. After this manner it is in the body of man; when the blood is\nin a nimble agitation, then it falls upon those vessels in which the\nspirits are, and there being in an extraordinary heat, it fires the\nwhole body. The opinion that a fever is an appendix to a preceding\naffection pleaseth him. Diocles proceeds after this manner: Those things\nwhich are internal and latent are manifested by those which externally\nbreak forth and appear; and it is clear to us that a fever is annexed\nto certain outward affections, for example, to wounds, inflaming tumors,\ninguinary abscesses.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX. OF HEALTH, SICKNESS, AND OLD AGE.\n\nAlcmaeon says that the preserver of health is an equal proportion of the\nqualities of heat, moisture, cold, dryness, bitterness, sweetness, and\nthe other qualities; on the contrary, the prevailing empire of one above\nthe rest is the cause of diseases and author of destruction. The direct\ncause of disease is the excess of heat or cold, the formal cause is\nexcess or defect, the place is the blood or brain. But health is the\nharmonious commixture of the elements. Diocles, that sickness for the\nmost part proceeds from the irregular disposition of the elements in the\nbody, for that makes an ill habit or constitution of it. Erasistratus,\nthat sickness is caused by the excess of nourishment, indigestion, and\ncorruptions; on the contrary, health is the moderation of the diet, and\nthe taking that which is convenient and sufficient for us. It is the\nunanimous opinion of the Stoics that the want of heat brings old age,\nfor (they say) those persons in whom heat more abounds live the longer.\nAsclepiades, that the Ethiopians soon grow old, and at thirty years of\nage are ancient men, their bodies being excessively heated and scorched\nby the sun; in Britain persons live a hundred and twenty years, on\naccount of the coldness of the country, and because the people keep the\nfiery element within their bodies; the bodies of the Ethiopians are more\nfine and thin, because they are relaxed by the sun's heat, while\nthey who live in northern countries are condensed and robust, and by\nconsequence are more long lived.\n\n\nEND OF THREE---------\n\n\n\n\nABSTRACT OF A DISCOURSE SHOWING THAT THE STOICS SPEAK GREATER\nIMPROBABILITIES THAN THE POETS.\n\nPinder's Caeneus hath been taken to task by several, for being\nimprobably feigned, impenetrable by steel and impassible in his body,\nand so\n\n     Descending, into hell without a wound.\n     And with sound foot parting in two the ground.\n\nBut the Stoics' Lapithes, as if they had carved him out of the\nvery adamantine matter of impassibility itself, though he is not\ninvulnerable, nor exempt from either sickness or pain, yet remains\nfearless, regretless, invincible, and unconstrainable in the midst of\nwounds, dolors, and torments, and in the very subversions of the\nwalls of his native city, and other such like great calamities. Again,\nPindar's Caeneus is not wounded when struck; but the Stoics' wise man\nis not detained when shut up in a prison, suffers no compulsion by being\nthrown down a precipice, is not tortured when on the rack, takes no hurt\nby being maimed, and when he catches a fall in wrestling he is still\nunconquered; when he is encompassed with a vampire, he is not besieged;\nand when sold by his enemies, he is still not made a prisoner. The\nwonderful man is like to those ships that have inscribed upon them A\nPROSPEROUS VOYAGE, OR PROTECTING PROVIDENCE, or A PRESERVATIVE AGAINST\nDANGERS, and yet for all that endure storms, and are miserably shattered\nand overturned.\n\nEuripides's Iolaus of a feeble, superannuated old man, by means of a\ncertain prayer, became on a sudden youthful and strong for battle;\nbut the Stoics wise man was yesterday most detestable and the worst of\nvillains, but today is changed on a sudden into a state of virtue, and\nis become of a wrinkled, pale fellow, and as Aeschylus speaks,\n\n     Of an old sickly wretch with stitch in 's back,\n     Distent with rending pains as on a rack,\n\na gallant, godlike, and beauteous person.\n\nThe goddess Minerva took from Ulysses his wrinkles, baldness, and\ndeformity, to make him appear a handsome man. But these men's wise man,\nthough old age quits not his body, but contrariwise still lays on\nand heaps more upon it, though he remains (for instance) humpbacked,\ntoothless, one-eyed, is yet neither deformed, disfigured, nor\nill-favored. For as beetles are said to relinquish perfumes and to\npursue after ill scents; so Stoical love, having used itself to the most\nfoul and deformed persons, if by means of philosophy they change into\ngood form and comeliness, becomes presently disgusted.\n\nHe that in the Stoics' account was in the forenoon (for example) the\nworst man in the world is in the afternoon the best of men; and he that\nfalls asleep a very sot, dunce, miscreant, and brute, nay, by Jove, a\nslave and a beggar to boot, rises up the same day a prince, a rich and\na happy man, and (which is yet more) a continent, just, determined, and\nunprepossessed person;--not by shooting forth out of a young and tender\nbody a downy beard or the sprouting tokens of mature youth, but by\nhaving in a feeble, soft, unmanful, and undetermined mind, a perfect\nintellect, a consummate prudence, a godlike disposition, an unprejudiced\nscience, and an unalterable habit. All this time his viciousness gives\nnot the least ground in order to it, but he becomes in an instant, I had\nalmost said, of the vilest brute, a sort of hero, genius, or god. For he\nthat receives his virtue from the Stoics portico may say,\n\n     Ask what thou wilt, it shall be granted thee.\n     (From Menander)\n\nIt brings wealth along with it, it contains kingship in it, it confers\nfortune; it renders men prosperous, and makes them to want nothing and\nto have a sufficiency of everything, though they have not one drachm of\nsilver in the house.\n\nThe fabular relations of the poets are so careful of decorum, that they\nnever leave a Hercules destitute of necessaries; but those still spring,\nas out of some fountain, as well for him as for his companions. But he\nthat hath received of the Stoics Amalthaea becomes indeed a rich man,\nbut he begs his victuals of other men; he is a king, but resolves\nsyllogisms for hire; he is the only man that hath all things, but yet\nhe pays rent for the house he lives in, and oftentimes buys bread with\nborrowed money, or else begs it of those that have nothing themselves.\n\nThe king of Ithaca begs with a design that none may know who he is, and\nmakes himself\n\n     As like a dirty sorry beggar\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xvi. 273.)\n\nas he can. But he that is of the Portico, while he bawls and cries out,\nIt is I only that am a king, It is I only that am a rich man, is yet\nmany times seen at other people's doors saying:--\n\n     On poor Hipponax, pray, some pity take,\n     Bestow an old cast coat for heaven's sake;\n     I'm well-nigh dead with cold, and all o'er quake.\n\n\nEND OF FOUR---------------\n\n\n\n\nSYMPOSIACS.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK 1.\n\nSome, my dear Sossius Senecio imagine that this sentence, [Greek\nomitted] was principally designed against the stewards of a feast, who\nare usually troublesome and press liquor too much upon the guests. For\nthe Dorians in Sicily (as I am informed) called the steward, [Greek\nomitted] a REMEMBRANCER. Others think that this proverb admonisheth\nthe guests to forget everything that is spoken or done in company; and\nagreeably to this, the ancients used to consecrate forgetfulness with a\nferula to Bacchus, thereby intimating that we should either not remember\nany irregularity committed in mirth and company, or apply a gentle and\nchildish correction to the faults. But because you are of opinion (as\nEuripides says) that to forget absurdities is indeed a piece of wisdom,\nbut to deliver over to oblivion all sort of discourse that merry\nmeetings do usually produce is not only repugnant to that endearing\nquality that most allow to an entertainment, but against the known\npractice of the greatest philosophers (for Plato, Xenophon, Aristotle,\nSpeusippus, Epicurus, Prytanis, Hieronymus, Dion the Academic, have\nthought it a worthy and noble employment to deliver down to us those\ndiscourses they had at table), and since it is your pleasure that I\nshould gather up the chiefest of those scattered topics which both at\nRome and Greece amidst our cups and feasting we have disputed on, in\nobedience to your commands I have sent three books, each containing\nten problems; and the rest shall quickly follow, if these find good\nacceptance and do not seem altogether foolish and impertinent.\n\n\nQUESTION I. WHETHER AT TABLE IT IS ALLOWABLE TO PHILOSOPHIZE?\n\nSOSSIUS, SENECIO, ARISTO, PLUTARCH, CRATO, AND OTHERS.\n\nThe first question is, Whether at table it is allowable to philosophize?\nFor I remember at a supper at Athens this doubt was started, whether at\na merry meeting it was fit to use philosophical discourse, and how\nfar it might be used? And Aristo presently cried out: What then, for\nheaven's sake, are there any that banish philosophy from company and\nwine? And I replied: Yes, sir, there are, and such as with a grave scoff\ntell us that philosophy, like the matron of the house, should never be\nheard at a merry entertainment; and commend the custom of the Persians,\nwho never let their wives appear, but drink, dance, and wanton with\ntheir whores. This they propose for us to imitate; they permit us\nto have mimics and music at our feasts, but forbid philosophy; she,\nforsooth, being very unfit to be wanton with us, and we in a bad\ncondition to be serious. Isocrates the rhetorician, when at a drinking\nbout some begged him to make a speech, only returned: With those things\nin which I have skill the time doth not suit; and in those things with\nwhich the time suits I have no skill.\n\nAnd Crato cried out: By Bacchus, he was right to forswear talk, if he\ndesigned to make such long-winded discourses as would have spoiled all\nmirth and conversation; but I do not think there is the same reason\nto forbid philosophy as to take away rhetoric from our feasts. For\nphilosophy is quite of another nature; it is an art of living, and\ntherefore must be admitted into every part of our conversation, into\nall our gay humors and our pleasures, to regulate and adjust them, to\nproportion the time, and keep them from excess; unless, perchance, upon\nthe same scoffing pretence of gravity, they would banish temperance,\njustice, and moderation. It is true, were we to feast before a court, as\nthose that entertained Orestes, and were silence enjoined by law, that\nmight prove no mean cloak of our ignorance; but if Bacchus is really\n[Greek omitted] (A LOOSER of everything), and chiefly takes off all\nrestraints and bridles from the tongue, and gives the voice the greatest\nfreedom, I think it is foolish and absurd to deprive that time in\nwhich we are usually most talkative of the most useful and profitable\ndiscourse; and in our schools to dispute of the offices of company, in\nwhat consists the excellence of a guest, how mirth, feasting, and wine\nare to be used and yet deny philosophy a place in these feasts, as if\nnot able to confirm by practice what by precepts it instructs.\n\nAnd when you affirmed that none ought to oppose what Crato said, but\ndetermine what sorts of philosophical topics were to be admitted as fit\ncompanions at a feast, and so avoid that just and pleasant taunt put\nupon the wrangling disputers of the age,\n\n     Come now to supper, that we may contend;\n\nand when you seemed concerned and urged us to speak to that head, I\nfirst replied: Sir, we must consider what company we have; for if\nthe greater part of the guests are learned men,--as for instance, at\nAgatho's entertainment, characters like Socrates, Phaedrus, Pausanias,\nEuryximachus; or at Callias's board, Charmides, Antisthenes, Hermogenes,\nand the like,--we will permit them to philosohize, and to mix Bacchus\nwith the Muses as well as with the Nymphs; for the latter make him\nwholesome and gentle to the body, and the other pleasant and agreeable\nto the soul. And if there are some few illiterate persons present,\nthey, as consonants with vowels, in the midst of the other learned, will\nparticipate not altogether inarticulately and insignificantly. But if\nthe greater part consists of such who can better endure the noise of any\nbird, fiddle-string, or piece of wood than the voice of a philosopher,\nPisistratus hath shown us what to do; for being at difference with his\nsons, when he heard his enemies rejoiced at it, in a full assembly he\ndeclared that he had endeavored to persuade his sons to submit to him,\nbut since he found them obstinate, he was resolved to yield and submit\nto their humors. So a philosopher, midst those companions that slight\nhis excellent discourse, will lay aside his gravity, follow them, and\ncomply with their humor as far as decency will permit; knowing very well\nthat men cannot exercise their rhetoric unless they speak, but may their\nphilosophy even whilst they are silent or jest merrily, nay, whilst\nthey are piqued upon or repartee. For it is not only (as Plato says) the\nhighest degree of injustice not to be just and yet seem so; but it is\nthe top of wisdom to philosophize, yet not appear to do it; and in mirth\nto do the same with those that are serious, and still seem in earnest.\nFor as in Euripides, the Bacchae, though unprovided of iron weapons and\nunarmed, wounded their invaders with their boughs, thus the very jests\nand merry talk of true philosophers move those that are not altogether\ninsensible.\n\nI think there are topics fit to be used at table, some of which reading\nand study give us, others the present occasion; some to incite to study,\nothers to piety and great and noble actions, others to make us rivals\nof the bountiful and kind; which if a man cunningly and without any\napparent design inserts for the instruction of the rest, he will free\nthese entertainments from many of those considerable evils which usually\nattend them. Some that put borage into the wine, or sprinkle the floor\nwith water in which verbena and maiden-hair have been steeped, as good\nraise mirth and jollity in the guests (in imitation of Homer's Helen,\nwho with some medicament diluted the pure wine she had prepared), do not\nunderstand that that fable, coming from round Egypt, after a long way\nends at last in easy and fit discourse. For whilst they were drinking\nHelen relates the story of Ulysses,\n\n     How Fortune's spite the hero did control,\n     And bore his troubles with a manly soul.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" iv. 242.)\n\nFor that, in my opinion, was the Nepenthe, the care-dissolving\nmedicament, viz, that story exactly fitted to the then disasters and\njuncture of affairs. The pleasing men, though they designedly and\napparently instruct, draw on their maxims rather with persuasive and\nsmooth arguments, than the violent force of demonstrations. You see that\neven Plato in his Symposium, where he disputes of the chief end, the\nchief good, and is altogether on subjects theological, doth not lay down\nstrong and close demonstrations; he doth not make himself ready for the\ncontest (as he is wont) like a wrestler, that he may take the firmer\nhold of his adversary and be sure of giving him the trip; but draws\nmen on by more soft and pliable attacks, by pleasant fictions and pat\nexamples.\n\nBesides the questions should be easy, the problems known, the\ninterrogations plain, familiar, and not intricate and dark that they\nmight neither vex the unlearned, nor fright them from the disquisition.\nFor--as it is allowable to dissolve our entertainment into a dance, but\nif we force our guests to toss quoits or play at cudgels, we shall not\nonly make our feast unpleasant, but hurtful and unnatural--thus light\nand easy disquisitions do pleasantly and profitably excite us, but we\nmust forbear all contentions and (to use Democritus's word) wrangling\ndisputes, which perplex the proposers with intricate and inexplicable\ndoubts, and trouble all the others that are present. Our discourse\nshould be like our wine, common to all, and of which every one may\nequally partake; and they that propose hard problems seem no better\nfitted for society than Aesop's fox and crane. For the fox vexed the\ncrane with thin broth poured out upon a plain table, and laughed at\nher when he saw her, by reason of the narrowness of her bill and the\nthinness of the broth, incapable of partaking what he had prepared; and\nthe crane, in requital, inviting the fox to supper, brought forth her\ndainties in a pot with a long and narrow neck, into which she could\nconveniently thrust her bill, whilst the fox could not reach one bit.\nJust so, when philosophers midst their cups dive into minute and logical\ndisputes, they are very troublesome to those that cannot follow them\nthrough the same depths; and those that bring in idle songs, trifling\ndisquisitions, common talk, and mechanical discourse destroy the\nvery end of conversation and merry entertainments, and abuse Bacchus.\nTherefore, as when Phrynichus and Aeschylus brought tragedy to discourse\nof fictions and misfortunes, it was asked, What is this to Bacchus?--so\nmethinks, when I hear some pedantically drawing a syllogism into\ntable-talk, I have reason to cry out, Sir, what is this to Bacchus?\nPerchance one, the great bowl standing in the midst, and the chaplets\ngiven round, which the god in token of the liberty he bestows sets on\nevery head, sings one of those songs called [Greek omitted] (CROOKED\nOR OBSCURE); this is not fit nor agreeable to a feast. Though some say\nthese songs were not dark and intricate composures; but that the guests\nsang the first song all together, praising Bacchus and describing the\npower of the god; and the second each man sang singly in his turn, a\nmyrtle bough being delivered to every one in order, which they call an\n[Greek omitted] because he that received it was obliged [Greek omitted]\nto sing; and after this a harp being carried round the company, the\nskilful took it, and fitted the music to the song; this when the\nunskilful could not perform, the song was called [Greek omitted] because\nhard to them, and one in which they could not bear a part. Others say\nthis myrtle bough was not delivered in order, but from bed to bed;\nand when the uppermost of the first table had sung, he sent it to the\nuppermost of the second, and he to the uppermost of the third; and so\nthe second in like manner to the second; and from these many windings\nand this circuit it was called [Greek omitted] CROOKED.\n\n\nQUESTION II. WHETHER THE ENTERTAINER SHOULD SEAT THE GUESTS, OR LET\nEVERY MAN TAKE HIS OWN PLACE.\n\nTIMON, A GUEST, PLUTARCH, PLUTARCH'S FATHER, LAMPRIAS, AND OTHERS.\n\nMy brother Timon, making a great entertainment, desired the guests as\nthey came to seat themselves; for he had invited strangers and citizens,\nneighbors and acquaintance, and all sorts of persons to the feast. A\ngreat many being already come, a certain stranger at last appeared,\ndressed as fine as hands could make him, his clothes rich, and\nan unseemly train of foot-boys at his heels; he walking up to the\nparlor-door, and, staring round upon those that were already seated,\nturned his back and scornfully retired; and when a great many stepped\nafter him and begged him to return, he said, I see no fit place left for\nme. At that, the other guests (for the glasses had gone round) laughed\nabundantly, and desired his room rather than his company.\n\nBut after supper, my father addressing himself to me, who sat at another\nquarter of the table,--Timon, said he, and I have a dispute, and you\nare to be judge, for I have been upon his skirts already about that\nstranger; for if according to my directions he had seated every man in\nhis proper place, we had never been thought unskilful in this matter, by\none\n\n     Whose art is great in ordering horse and foot.\n     (\"Iliad,\" ii 554.)\n\nAnd story says that Paulus Aemilius, after he had conquered Perseus the\nking of Macedon, making an entertainment besides his costly furniture\nand extraordinary provision, was very critical in the order of his\nfeast; saying, It is the same man's task to order a terrible battle and\na pleasing, entertainment, for both of them require skill in the art\nof disposing right, and Homer often calls the stoutest and the greatest\nprinces [Greek omitted] disposers of the people; and you use to say\nthat the great Creator, by this art of disposing, turned disorder into\nbeauty, and neither taking away nor adding any new being, but setting\neverything in its proper place, out of the most uncomely figure and\nconfused chaos produced this beauteous, this surprising face of nature\nthat appears. In these great and noble doctrines indeed you instruct\nus; but our own observation sufficiently assures us, that the greatest\nprofuseness in a feast appears neither delightful nor genteel, unless\nbeautified by order. And therefore it is absurd that cooks and waiters\nshould be solicitous what dish must be brought first, what next,\nwhat placed in the middle, and what last; and that the garlands, and\nointment, and music (if they have any) should have a proper place and\norder assigned, and yet that the guests should be seated promiscuously,\nand no respect be had to age, honor, or the like; no distinguishing\norder by which the man in dignity might be honored, the inferior learn\nto give place, and the disposer be exercised in distinguishing what is\nproper and convenient. For it is not rational that, when we walk or sit\ndown to discourse, the best man should have the best place, and not\nthe same order be observed at table; or that the entertainer should\nin civility drink to one before another, and yet make no difference in\ntheir seats, at the first dash making the whole company one Myconus (as\nthey say), a hodge-podge and confusion. This my father brought for his\nopinion.\n\nAnd my brother said: I am not so much wiser than Bias, that, since\nhe refused to be arbitrator between two only of his friends, I should\npretend to be a judge between so many strangers and acquaintance;\nespecially since it is not a money matter, but about precedence and\ndignity, as if I invited my friends not to treat them kindly, but to\nabuse them. Menelaus is accounted absurd and passed into a proverb, for\npretending to advise when unasked; and sure he would be more ridiculous\nthat instead of an entertainer should set up for a judge, when nobody\nrequests him or submits to his determination which is the best and which\nthe worst man in the company; for the guests do not come to contend\nabout precedency, but to feast and be merry. Besides, it is no easy\ntask to distinguish for some claim respect by reason of their age,\nothers--from their familiarity and acquaintance; and, as those that make\ndeclamations consisting of comparisons, he must have Aristotle's [Greek\nomitted] and Thrasymachus's [Greek omitted] (books that furnish him with\nheads of argument) at his fingers' ends; and all this to no good purpose\nor profitable effect but to bring vanity from the bar and the theatre\ninto our feasts and entertainments, and, whilst by good fellowship\nendeavor to remit all other passions, especially pride and arrogance,\nfrom which, in my opinion we should be more careful to cleanse our souls\nthan to wash our feet from dirt, that our conversation be free, simple,\nand full of mirth. And while by such meetings we strive to end all\ndifferences that have at any time risen amongst the invited, we should\nmake them flame anew, and kindle them again by emulation, by thus\nhumbling some and puffing up others. And if, according as we seat them,\nwe should drink oftener and discourse more with some than others and\nset daintier dishes before them, instead of being friendly we should be\nlordly in our feasts. And if in other things we treat them all equally,\nwhy should we not begin at the first part, and bring it into fashion for\nall to take their seats promiscuously, without ceremony or pride, and to\nlet them see, as soon as they enter, that they are invited to a dinner\nwhose order is free and democratical, and not, as particular chosen men\nto the government of a city where aristocracy is the form; since the\nrichest and the poorest sit promiscuously together.\n\nWhen this had been offered on both sides, and all present required my\ndetermination, I said: Being an arbitrator and not a judge, I shall\nclose strictly with neither side, but go indifferently in the middle\nbetween both. If a man invites young men, citizens, or acquaintance,\nthey should (as Timon says) be accustomed to be content with any\nplace, without ceremony or concernment; and this good nature and\nunconcernedness would be an excellent means to preserve and increase\nfriendship. But if we use the same method to strangers, magistrates, or\nold men, I have just reason to fear that, whilst we seem to thrust our\npride at the fore-door, we bring it in again at the back, together with\na great deal of indifferency and disrespect. But in this, custom and\nthe established rules of decency must guide; or else let us abolish all\nthose modes of respect expressed by drinking to or saluting first; which\nwe do not use promiscuously to all the company but according to their\nworth we honor every one\n\n     With better places, meat, and larger cups,\n     (\"Iliad,\" xii. 311.)\n\nas Agamemnon says, naming the place first, as the chiefest sign of\nhonor. And we commend Alcinous for placing his guest next himself:--\n\n     He stout Laomedon his son removed,\n     Who sat next him, for him he dearly loved;\n     (\"Iliad,\" xx. 15.)\n\nfor to place a suppliant stranger in the seat of his beloved son\nwas wonderful kind, and extreme courteous. Nay even amongst the gods\nthemselves this distinction is observed; for Neptune, though he came\nlast into the assembly,\n\n     sat in the middle seat,\n     (\"Odyssey,\" vii. 170.)\n\nas if that was his proper place. And Minerva seems to have that assigned\nher which is next Jupiter himself; and this the poet intimates, when\nspeaking of Thetis he says,\n\n     She sat next Jove, Minerva giving Place.\n     (Ibid. xxiv. 100.)\n\nAnd Pindar plainly says,\n\n     She sits just next the thunder-breathing flames.\n\nIndeed Timon urges, we ought not to rob many to honor one, which he\nseems to do himself, even more than others; for he robs that which makes\nsomething that is individual common; and suitable honor to his worth is\neach man's possession. And he gives that preeminence to running fast and\nmaking haste, which belongs to virtue, kindred, magistracies, and such\nother qualities; and whilst he endeavors not to affront his guests,\nhe necessarily falls into that very inconvenience; for he must affront\nevery one by defrauding them of their proper honor. Besides, in my\nopinion it is no hard matter to make this distinction, and seat our\nguests according to their quality; for first, it very seldom happens\nthat many of equal honor are invited to the same banquet; and then,\nsince there are many honorable places, you have room enough to dispose\nthem according to content, if you can but guess that this man must be\nseated uppermost, that in the middle, another next to yourself, friend,\nacquaintance, tutor, or the like, appointing every one some place of\nhonor; and as for the rest, I would supply their want of honor with some\nlittle presents, affability, and kind discourse. But if their qualities\nare not easy to be distinguished, and the men themselves hard to be\npleased, see what device I have in that case; for I seat in the\nmost honorable place my father, if invited; if not my grandfather,\nfather-in-law, uncle, or somebody whom the entertainer hath a more\nparticular reason to esteem. And this is one of the many rules of\ndecency that we have from Homer; for in his poem, when Achilles saw\nMenelaus and Antilochus contending about the second prize of the\nhorse-race, fearing that their strife and fury would increase, he gave\nthe prize to another, under pretence of comforting and honoring Eumelus,\nbut indeed to take away the cause of their contention.\n\nWhen I had said this, Lamprias, sitting (as he always doth) upon a low\nbed, cried out: Sirs, will you give me leave to correct this sottish\njudge? And the company bidding him speak freely and tell me roundly of\nmy faults, and not spare, he said: And who can forbear that philosopher\nwho disposes of places at a feast according to the birth, wealth, or\noffices of the guests, as if they were in a theatre or the Council\nHouse, so that pride and arrogance must be admitted even into our mirth\nand entertainments? In seating our guests we should not have any\nrespect to honor, but mirth and conversation; not look after every man's\nquality, but their agreement and harmony with one another, as those do\nthat join several different things in one composure. Thus a mason doth\nnot set an Athenian or a Spartan stone, because formed in a more noble\ncountry, before an Asian or a Spanish; nor a painter give the most\ncostly color the chiefest place; nor a shipwright the Corinthian fir or\nCretan cypress; but so distribute them as they will best serve to the\ncommon end, and make the whole composure strong, beautiful, and fit for\nuse. Nay, you see even the deity himself (by our Pindar named the most\nskilful artificer) doth not everywhere place the fire above and the\nearth below; but, as Empedocles hath it,\n\n     The Oysters Coverings do directly prove,\n     That heavy Earth is sometimes rais'd above;\n\nnot having that place that Nature appoints, but that which is necessary\nto compound bodies and serviceable to the common end, the preservation\nof the whole. Disorder is in everything an evil; but then its badness\nis principally discovered, when it is amongst men whilst they are\nmaking merry; for then it breeds contentions and a thousand unspeakable\nmischiefs, which to foresee and hinder shows a man well skilled in good\norder and disposing right.\n\nWe all agreed that he had said well, but asked him why he would not\ninstruct us how to order things aright, and communicate his skill. I am\ncontent, says he, to instruct you, if you will permit me to change the\npresent order of the feast, and will yield as ready obedience to me as\nthe Thebans to Epaminondas when he altered the order of their battle. We\ngave him full power; and he, having turned all the servants out, looked\nround upon every one, and said: Hear (for I will tell you first) how\nI design to order you together. In my mind, the Theban Pammenes justly\ntaxeth Homer as unskilful in love matters, for setting together, in\nhis description of an army, tribe and tribe, family and family; for he\nshould have joined the lover and the beloved, so that the whole body\nbeing united in their minds might perfectly agree. This rule will\nI follow, not set one rich man by another, a youth by a youth, a\nmagistrate by a magistrate, and a friend by a friend; for such an order\nis of no force, either to beget or increase friendship and good-will.\nBut fitting that which wants with something that is able to supply\nit, next one that is willing to instruct I will place one that is as\ndesirous to be instructed; next a morose, one good-natured; next a\ntalkative old man a youth patient and eager for a story; next a boaster,\na jeering smooth companion; and next an angry man, a quiet one. If I see\na wealthy fellow bountiful and kind, I will take some poor honest man\nfrom his obscure place, and set him next, that something may run out of\nthat full vessel to the other empty one. A sophister I will forbid to\nsit by a sophister, and one poet by another;\n\n     For beggars beggars, poets envy poets.\n     (Hesiod, \"Work and Days,\" 26)\n\nI separate the clamorous scoffers and the testy, by putting some\ngood-nature between them, so they cannot jostle so roughly on one\nanother; wrestlers, hunters, and farmers I put in one company. For some\nof the same nature, when put together, fight as cocks; others are very\nsociable as daws. Drinkers and lovers I set together, not only those who\n(as Sophocles says) feel the sting of masculine love, but those that are\nmad after virgins or married women; for they being warmed with the\nlike fire, as two pieces of iron to be joined, will more readily agree;\nunless perhaps they both fancy the same person.\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. UPON WHAT ACCOUNT IS THE PLACE AT THE TABLE CALLED\nCONSULAR ESTEEMED HONORABLE.\n\nTHE SAME.\n\nThis raised a dispute about the dignity of places, for the same seat is\nnot accounted honorable amongst all nations; in Persia the midst, for\nthat is the place proper to the king himself; in Greece the uppermost;\nat Rome the lowermost of the middle bed, and this is called the\nconsular; the Greeks about Pontus, and those of Heraclea, reckon the\nuppermost of the middle bed to be the chief. But we were most puzzled\nabout the place called consular; for though it is esteemed most\nhonorable, yet it is not because it is either the first or the midst;\nand its other circumstances are either not proper to that alone, or very\nfrivolous. Though I confess three of the reasons alleged seemed to have\nsomething in them. The first, that the consuls, having dissolved the\nmonarchy and reduced everything to a more equal level and popular\nestate, left the middle, the kingly place, and sat in a lower seat; that\nby this means their power and authority might be less subject to envy,\nand not so grievous to their fellow-citizens. The second, that, two beds\nbeing appointed for the invited guests, the third--and the first place\nin it--is most convenient for the master of the feast, from whence like\na pilot, he can guide and order everything, and readily overlook the\nmanagement of the whole affair. Besides, he is not so far removed that\nhe can easily discourse, talk to, and compliment his guests; for next\nbelow him his wife and children usually are placed; next above him the\nmost honorable of the invited, that being the most proper place, as near\nthe master of the feast. The third reason was, that it is peculiar to\nthe this place to be most convenient for the despatch of any sudden\nbusiness; for the Roman consul will not as Archias, the governor of\nThebes, say, when letters of importance are brought to him at dinner,\n\"serious things to-morrow\" and then throw aside the packet and take the\ngreat bowl; but he will be careful, circumspect, and mind it at that\nvery instant. For not only (as the common saying hath it)\n\n     Each throw doth make the dicer fear,\n\nbut even midst his feasting and his pleasure a magistrate should be\nintent on intervening business; and he hath this place appointed, as\nthe most convenient for him to receive any message, answer it, or sign\na bill; for there the second bed joining with the third, the turning at\nthe corner leaves a vacant space, so that a notary, servant, guard, or a\nmessenger from the army might approach, deliver the message, and receive\norders; and the consul, having room enough to speak or use his hand,\nneither troubles any one, nor is hindered by any the guests.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHAT MANNER OF MAN SHOULD A DIRECTOR OF A FEAST BE?\n\nCRATO, THEON, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nCrato my relative, and Theon my acquaintance, at a certain banquet,\nwhere the glasses had gone round freely, and a little stir arose but was\nsuddenly appeased, began to discourse of the office of the steward of\na feast; declaring that it was my duty to wear the chaplet, assert the\ndecaying privilege, and restore that office which should take care for\nthe decency and good order of the banquet. This proposal pleased every\none, and they were all an end begging me to do it. Well then, said I,\nsince you will have it so, I make myself steward and director of you\nall, command the rest to drink every one what he will but Crato and\nTheon, the first proposers and authors of this decree, I enjoin to\ndeclare in short what qualifications fit a man for this office, what he\nshould principally aim at and how behave himself towards those under\nhis command. This is the subject, and let them agree amongst themselves\nwhich head each shall manage.\n\nThey made some slight excuse at first; but the whole company urging them\nto obey, Crato began thus. A captain of a watch (as Plato says) ought\nto be most watchful and diligent himself, and the director of merry\ncompanions ought to be the best. And such a one he is, that will not be\neasily overtaken or apt to refuse a glass; but as Cyrus in his epistle\nto the Spartans says, that in many other things he was more fit than\nhis brother to be a king, and chiefly because he could bear abundance\nof wine. For one that is drunk must have an ill carriage and be apt to\naffront; and he that is perfectly sober must be unpleasant, and fitter\nto be a governor of a school than of a feast. Pericles as often as he\nwas chosen general, when he put on his cloak, used to say to himself,\nas it were to refresh his memory, Take heed, Pericles, thou dost govern\nfreemen, thou dost govern Greeks, thou dost govern Athenians. So let\nour director say privately to himself, Thou art a governor over friends,\nthat he may remember to neither suffer them to be debauched nor stint\ntheir mirth. Besides he ought to have some skill in the serious studies\nof the guests and not be altogether ignorant of mirth and humor yet I\nwould have him (as pleasant wine ought to be) a little severe and rough,\nfor the liquor will soften and smooth him, and make his temper pleasant\nand agreeable. For as Xenophon says, that Clearchus's rustic and morose\nhumor in a battle, by reason of his bravery and heat, seemed pleasant\nand surprising; thus one that is not of a very sour nature, but grave\nand severe, being softened by a chirping cup becomes more pleasant and\ncomplaisant. But chiefly he should be acquainted with every one of the\nguests' humors, what alteration the liquor makes in him, what passion he\nis most subject to, and what quantity he can bear; for it is not to be\nsupposed different sorts of water bear various proportions to different\nsorts of wine (which kings' cup-bearers understanding sometimes pour in\nmore, sometimes less), and that man hath no such relation to them. This\nour director ought to know, and knowing, punctually observe; so that\nlike a good musician, screwing up one and letting down another, he may\nmake between these different natures a pleasing harmony and agreement;\nso that he shall not proportion his wine by measure, but give every one\nwhat was proper and agreeable, according to the present circumstances of\ntime and strength of body. But if this is too difficult a task, yet it\nis necessary that a steward should know the common accidents of age and\nnature, such as these,--that an old man will be sooner overtaken than\na youth, one that leaps about or talks than he that is silent or sits\nstill, the thoughtful and melancholy than the cheerful and the brisk.\nAnd he that understands these things is much more able to preserve\nquietness and order, than one that is perfectly ignorant and unskilful.\nBesides, I think none will doubt but that the steward ought to be a\nfriend, and have no pique at any of the guests; for otherwise in his\ninjunctions he will be intolerable, in his distributions unequal, in\nhis jests apt to scoff and give offence. Such a figure, Theon, as out\nof wax, hath my discourse framed for the steward of a feast; and now I\ndeliver him to you.\n\nAnd Theon replied: He is welcome,--a very well-shaped gentleman,\nand fitted for the office; but whether I shall not spoil him in my\nparticular application, I cannot tell. In my opinion he seems such a\none as will keep an entertainment to its primitive institution, and\nnot suffer it to be changed, sometimes into a mooting hall, sometimes a\nschool of rhetoric, now and then a dicing room, a playhouse, or a stage.\nFor do not you observe some making fine orations and putting cases at a\nsupper, others declaiming or reading some of their own compositions, and\nothers proposing prizes to dancers and mimics? Alcibiades and Theodorus\nturned Polition's banquet into a temple of initiation, representing\nthere the sacred procession and mysteries of Ceres; now such things as\nthese, in my opinion, ought not to be suffered by a steward, but he must\npermit such discourse only, such shows, such merriment, as promote\nthe particular end and design of such entertainments; and that is,\nby pleasant conversation either to beget or maintain friendship and\ngood-will among the guests; for an entertainment is only a pastime table\nwith a glass of wine, ending in friendship through mutual goodwill.\n\nBut now because things pure and unmixed are usually surfeiting and\nodious, and the very mixture itself, unless the simples be well\nproportioned and opportunely put together, spoils the sweetness and\ngoodness of the composition; it is evident that there ought to be\na director to take care that the mirth and jollity of the guests be\nexactly and opportunely tempered. It is a common saying that a voyage\nnear the land and a walk near the sea are the best recreation. Thus our\nsteward should place seriousness and gravity next jollity and humor;\nthat when they are merry, they should be on the very borders of gravity\nitself, and when grave and serious, they might be refreshed as sea-sick\npersons having an easy and short prospect to the mirth and jollity on\nland. For mirth may be exceeding useful, and make our grave discourses\nsmooth and pleasant,--\n\n     As near the bramble oft the lily grows,\n     And neighboring rue commands the blushing rose.\n\nBut against vain and empty tempers, that wantonly break in upon our\nfeasts, like henbane mixed with the wine, he must advise the guests,\nlest scoffing and affronts creep in under these, lest in their questions\nor commands they grow scurrilous and abuse, as for instance by enjoining\nstutterers to sing, bald-pates to comb their heads, or a cripple to rise\nand dance. As the company abused Agapestor the Academic, one of whose\nlegs was lame and withered, when in a ridiculing frolic they ordained\nthat every man should stand upon his right leg and take off his glass,\nor pay a fine; and he, when it was his turn to command, enjoined the\ncompany to follow his example drink as he did, and having a narrow\nearthen pitcher brought in, he put his withered leg into it, and drank\nhis glass and every one in the company, after a fruitless endeavor to\nimitate, paid his forfeit. It was a good humor of Agapestor's and thus\nevery little merry abuse must be as merrily revenged. Besides he must\ngive such commands as will both please and profit, putting such as are\nfamiliar and easy to the person, and when performed will be for his\ncredit and reputation. A songster must be enjoined to sing, an orator to\nspeak, a philosopher to solve a problem, and a poet to make a song; for\nevery one very readily and willingly undertakes that\n\n     In which he may outdo himself.\n\nAn Assyrian king by public proclamation promised a reward to him\nthat would find out any new sort of luxury and pleasure. And let the\ngovernor, the king of an entertainments propose some pleasant reward for\nany one that introduceth inoffensive merriment, profitable delight and\nlaughter, not such as attends scoffs and abusive jests, but kindness,\npleasant humor, and goodwill; for these matters not being well looked\nafter and observed spoil and ruin most of our entertainments. It is the\noffice of a prudent man to hinder all sort of anger and contention; in\nthe exchange, that which springs from covetousness; in the fencing and\nwrestling schools, from emulation; in offices and state affairs, from\nambition; and in a feast or entertainment, from pleasantness and joke.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. WHY IT IS COMMONLY SAID THAT LOVE MAKES A MAN A POET.\n\nSOSSIUS, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nOne day when Sossius entertained us, upon singing some Sapphic verses,\nthis question was started, how it could be true\n\n     That love in all doth vigorous thoughts inspire,\n     And teaches ignorants to tune the lyre?\n\nSince Philoxenus, on the contrary, asserts, that the Cyclops\n\n     With sweet-tongued Muses cured his love.\n\nSome said that love was bold and daring, venturing at new contrivances,\nand eager to accomplish, upon which account Plato calls it the\nenterpriser of everything; for it makes the reserved man talkative,\nthe modest complimental, the negligent and sluggish industrious and\nobservant; and, what is the greatest wonder, a close, hard, and covetous\nfellow, if he happens to be in love, as iron in fire, becomes pliable\nand soft, easy, good-natured, and very pleasant; as if there were\nsomething in that common jest. A lover's purse is tied with the blade of\na leek. Others said that love was like drunkenness; it makes men warm,\nmerry, and dilated; and, when in that condition, they naturally slide\ndown to songs and words in measure; and it is reported of Aeschylus,\nthat he wrote tragedies after he was heated with a glass of wine; and\nmy grandfather Lamprias in his cups seemed to outdo himself in starting\nquestions and smart disputing, and usually said that, like frankincense,\nhe exhaled more freely after he was warmed. And as lovers are extremely\npleased with the sight of their beloved, so they praise with as much\nsatisfaction as they behold; and as love is talkative in everything,\nso more especially in commendation; for lovers themselves believe,\nand would have all others think, that the object of their passion is\npleasing and excellent; and this made Candaules the Lydian force Gyges\ninto his chamber to behold the beauty of his naked wife. For they\ndelight in the testimony of others, and therefore in all composures upon\nthe lovely they adorn them with songs and verses, as we dress images\nwith gold, that more may hear of them and that they may be remembered\nthe more. For if they present a cock, horse, or any other thing to the\nbeloved, it is neatly trimmed and set off with all the ornaments of art;\nand therefore, when they would present a compliment, they would have it\ncurious, pleasing, as verse usually appears.\n\nSossius applauding these discourses added: Perhaps we may make a\nprobable conjecture from Theophrastus's discourse of Music, for I\nhave lately read the book. Theophrastus lays down three causes of\nmusic,--grief, pleasure and enthusiasm; for each of these changes the\nusual tone, and makes the voice slide into a cadence; for deep sorrow\nhas something tunable in its groans, and therefore we perceive our\norators in their conclusions, and actors in their complaints, are\nsomewhat melodious, and insensibly fall into a tune. Excess of joy\nprovokes the more airy men to frisk and dance and keep their steps,\nthough unskilful in the art; and, as Pindar hath it,\n\n     They shout, and roar, and wildly toss their heads.\n\nBut the graver sort are excited only to sing, raise their voice, and\ntune their words into a sonnet. But enthusiasm quite changes the body\nand the voice, and makes it far different from its usual constitution.\nHence the very Bacchae use measure, and the inspired give their oracles\nin measure. And we shall see very few madmen but are frantic in rhyme\nand rave in verse. This being certain, if you will but anatomize love a\nlittle, and look narrowly into it, it will appear that no passion in\nthe world is attended with more violent grief, more excessive joy,\nor greater ecstasies and fury; a lover's soul looks like Sophocles's\ncity:--\n\n     At once 'tis full of sacrifice,\n     Of joyful songs, of groans and cries.'\n     (Sophocles, \"Oedipus Tyrannus,\" 4.)\n\nAnd therefore it is no wonder, that since love contains all the causes\nof music,--grief, pleasure, and enthusiasm,--and is besides industrious\nand talkative, it should incline us more than any other passion to\npoetry and songs.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. WHETHER ALEXANDER WAS A GREAT DRINKER.\n\nPHILINUS, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nSome said that Alexander did not drink much, but sat long in company,\ndiscoursing with his friends; but Philinus showed this to be an error\nfrom the king's diary, where it was very often registered that such a\nday, and sometimes two days together, the king slept after a debauch;\nand this course of life made him cold in love, but passionate and angry,\nwhich argues a hot constitution. And some report his sweat was fragrant\nand perfumed his clothes; which is another argument of heat, as we see\nthe hottest and driest climates bear frankincense and cassia; for a\nfragrant smell, as Theophrastus thinks, proceeds from a due concoction\nof the humors, when the noxious moisture is conquered by the heat. And\nit is thought probable, that he took a pique at Calisthenes for avoiding\nhis table because of the hard drinking, and refusing the great bowl\ncalled Alexander's in his turn, adding, I will not drink of Alexander's\nbowl, to stand in need of Aesculapius's. And thus much of Alexander's\ndrinking.\n\nStory tells us, that Mithridates, the famous enemy of the Romans, among\nother trials of skill that he instituted, proposed a reward to the\ngreatest eater and the stoutest drinker in his kingdom. He won both the\nprizes himself; he outdrank every man living, and for his excellency\nthat way was called Bacchus. But this reason for his surname is a\nvain fancy and an idle story; for whilst he was an infant a flash of\nlightning burnt his cradle, but did his body no harm, and only left a\nlittle mark on his forehead, which his hair covered when he was grown\na boy; and after he came to be a man, another flash broke into his\nbedchambers, and burnt the arrows in a quiver that was hanging under\nhim; from whence his diviners presaged, that archers and light-armed men\nshould win him considerable victories in his wars; and the vulgar gave\nhim this name, because in those many dangers by lightning he bore some\nresemblance to the Theban Bacchus.\n\nFrom hence great drinkers were the subject of our discourse; and the\nwrestler Heraclides (or, as the Alexandrians mince it, Heraclus), who\nlived but in the last age, was accounted one. He, when he could get\nnone to hold out with him, invited some to take their morning's draught,\nothers to dinner, to supper others, and others after, to take a merry\nglass of wine; so that as the first went off, the second came, and the\nthird and fourth company and he all the while without any intermission\ntook his glass round, and outsat all the four companies.\n\nAmongst the retainers to Drusus, the Emperor Tiberus's son, was a\nphysician that drank down all the court; he, before he sat down, would\nusually take five or six bitter almonds to prevent the operation of the\nwine; but whenever he was forbidden that, he knocked under presently,\nand a single glass dozed him. Some think these almonds have a\npenetrating, abstersive quality, are able to cleanse the face, and clear\nit from the common freckles; and therefore, when they are eaten, by\ntheir bitterness vellicate and fret the pores, and by that means draw\ndown the ascending vapors from the head. But, in my opinion, a bitter\nquality is a drier, and consumes moisture; and therefore a bitter taste\nis the most unpleasant. For, as Plato says, dryness, being an enemy\nto moisture, unnaturally contracts the spongy and tender nerves of the\ntongue. And green ulcers are usually drained by bitter injections. Thus\nHomer:--\n\n     He squeezed his herbs, and bitter juice applied;\n     And straight the blood was stanched, the sore was dried.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xi. 846.)\n\nAnd he guesses well, that what is bitter to the taste is a drier.\nBesides, the powders women use to dry up their sweat are bitter, and\nby reason of that quality astringent. This then being certain, it is no\nwonder that the bitterness of the almonds hinders the operation of the\nwine, since it dries the inside of the body and keeps the veins from\nbeing overcharged; for from their distention and disturbance they say\ndrunkenness proceeds. And this conjecture is much confirmed from that\nwhich usually happens to a fox; for if he eats bitter almonds without\ndrinking, his moisture suddenly fails, and it is present death.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. WHY OLD MEN LOVE PURE WINE.\n\nPLUTARCH AND OTHERS.\n\nIt was debated why old men loved the strongest liquors. Some, fancying\nthat their natural heat decayed and their constitution grew cold, said\nsuch liquors were most necessary and agreeable to their age; but this\nwas mean and the obvious, and besides, neither a sufficient nor a true\nreason; for the like happens to all their other senses. For they are not\neasily moved or wrought on by any qualities, unless they are in intense\ndegrees and make a vigorous impression; but the reason is the laxity\nof the habit of their body, for that, being grown lax and weak, loves a\nsmart stroke. Thus their taste is pleased most with strong sapors, their\nsmelling with brisk odors; for strong and unalloyed qualities make a\nmore pleasing impression on the sense. Their touch is almost senseless\nto a sore, and a wound generally raises no sharp pain. The like also in\ntheir hearing may be observed; for old musicians play louder and sharper\nthan others, that they may move their own dull tympanum with the sound.\nFor what steel is to the edge in a knife, that spirit is to the sense in\nthe body; and therefore, when the spirits fail, the sense grows dull and\nstupid, and cannot be raised, unless by something, such as strong wine,\nthat makes a vigorous impression.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHY OLD MEN READ BEST AT A DISTANCE.\n\nPLUTARCH, LAMPRIAS, AND OTHERS.\n\nTo my discourse in the former problem some objection may be drawn from\nthe sense of seeing in old men; for, if they hold a book at a distance,\nthey will read pretty well, nearer they cannot see a letter and this\nAeschylus means by these verses:--\n\n     Behold from far; for near thou canst not see;\n     A good old scribe thou mayst much sooner be.\n\nAnd Sophocles more plainly:--\n\n     Old men are slow in talk, they hardly hear;\n     Far off they see; but all are blind when near.\n\nAnd therefore, if old men's organs are more obedient to strong and\nintense qualities, why, when they read, do they not take the reflection\nnear at hand, but, holding the book a good way off, mix and weaken it by\nthe intervening air, as wine by water?\n\nSome answered, that they did not remove the book to lesson the light,\nbut to receive more rays, and let all the space between the letters and\ntheir eyes be filled with lightsome air. Others agreed with those that\nimagine the rays of vision mix with one another; for since there is a\ncone stretched between each eye and the object, whose point is in the\neye and whose basis is the object, it is probable that for some way each\ncone extends apart and by itself; but, when the distance increases, they\nmix and make but one common light; and therefore every object appears\nsingle and not two, though it is seen by both eyes at once; for the\nconjunction of the cones makes these two appearances but one. These\nthings supposed, when old men hold the letters close to their eyes, the\ncones not being joined, but each apart and by itself, their sight is\nweak; but when they remove it farther, the two lights being mingled and\nincreased, see better, as a man with both hands can hold that for which\neither singly is too weak.\n\nBut my brother Lamprias, though unacquainted with Hieronymus's notions,\ngave us another reason. We see, said he, some species that come from the\nobject to the eye, which at their first rise are thick and great; and\ntherefore when near disturb old men, whose eyes are stiff and not easily\npenetrated; but when they are separated and diffused into the air, the\nthick obstructing parts are easily removed, and the subtile remainders\ncoming to the eye gently and easily slide into the pores; and so the\ndisturbance being less, the sight is more vigorous and clear. Thus a\nrose smells most fragrant at a distance; but if you bring it near the\nnose, it is not so pure and delightful; and the reason is this,--many\nearthy disturbing particles are carried with the smell, and spoil the\nfragrancy when near, but in a longer passage those are lost, and the\npure brisk odor, by reason of its subtility, reaches and acts upon the\nsense.\n\nBut we, according to Plato's opinion, assert that a bright spirit darted\nfrom the eye mixes with the light about the object, and those two are\nperfectly blended into one similar body; now these must be joined in due\nproportion one to another; for one part ought not wholly to prevail on\nthe other, but both, being proportionally and amicably joined, should\nagree in one third common power. Now this (whether flux, illuminated\nspirit, or ray) in old men being very weak, there can be no combination,\nno mixture with the light about the object; but it must be wholly\nconsumed, unless, by removing the letters from their eyes, they lessen\nthe brightness of the light, so that it comes to the sight not too\nstrong or unmixed, but well proportioned and blended with the other. And\nthis explains that common affection of creatures seeing in the dark; for\ntheir eyesight being weak is overcome and darkened by the splendor of\nthe day; because the little light that flows from their eyes cannot be\nproportionably mixed with the stronger and more numerous beams; but it\nis proportionable and sufficient for the feeble splendor of the stars,\nand so can join with it, and cooperate to move the sense.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. WHY FRESH WATER WASHES CLOTHES BETTER THAN SALT.\n\nTHEON, THEMISTOCLES, METRIUS, FLORUS, PLUTARCH; AND OTHERS.\n\nTheon the grammarian, when Metrius Florus gave us an entertainment,\nasked Themistocles the Stoic, why Chrysippus, though he frequently\nmentioned some strange phenomena in nature (as that salt meat soaked in\nsalt water grows fresher than before; fleeces of wool are more easily\nseparated by a gentle than a quick and violent force, and men that are\nfasting eat slower than those who took a breakfast), yet never gave any\nreason for the appearance. And Themistocles replied, that Chrysippus\nonly proposed such things by the by, as instances to correct us,\nwho easily assent and without any reason to what seems likely, and\ndisbelieve everything that seems unlikely at the first sight. But why,\nsir, are you concerned at this? For if you are speculative and would\ninquire into the causes of things you need not want subjects in your own\nprofession; but pray tell me why Homer makes Nausicaa wash in the river\nrather than the sea, though it was near, and in all likelihood hotter,\nclearer, and fitter to wash with than that?\n\nAnd Theon replied: Aristotle hath already given an account for this from\nthe grossness of the sea water; for in this an abundance of rough\nearthy particles is mixed, and those make it salt; and upon this account\nswimmers or any other weights sink not so much in sea water as in fresh\nfor the latter, being thin and weak, yields to every pressure and is\neasily divided, because it is pure and unmixed and by reason of\nthis subtility of parts it penetrates better than salt water, and so\nlooseneth from the clothes the sticking particles of the spot. And is\nnot this discourse of Aristotle very probable?\n\nProbable indeed, I replied, but not true; for I have observed that with\nashes, gravel, or, if these are not to be gotten, with dust itself they\nusually thicken the water, as if the earthy particles being rough\nwould scour better than fair water, whose thinness makes it weak and\nineffectual. And therefore he is mistaken when he says the thickness\nof the sea water hinders the effect, since the sharpness of the mixed\nparticles very much conduces to make it cleansing; for that open the\npores, and draws out the stain. But since all oily matter is most\ndifficult to be washed out and spots a cloth, and the sea is oily, that\nis the reason why it doth not scour as well as fresh and that it is\noily, even Aristotle himself asserts, for salt in his opinion hath some\noil in it, and therefore makes candles, when sprinkled on them, burn\nthe better and clearer than before. And sea water sprinkled on a flame\nincreaseth it, and it more easily kindled than any other; in my opinion,\nmakes it hotter than the fresh. And besides, I may urge another cause;\nfor the end of washing is drying, and that seems cleanest which is\ndriest; and the moisture that scours (as hellebore, with the humors that\nit purges) ought to fly away quickly together with the stain. The sun\nquickly draws out the fresh water, because it is so light but the salt\nwater being rough lodges in the pores, and therefore is not easily\ndried.\n\n\nAnd Theon replied: You say just nothing, sir; for Aristotle in the same\nbook affirms that those that wash in the sea, if they stand in sun, are\nsooner dried than those that wash in the fresh streams. If it is true,\nI am answered, he says so; but I hope that Homer asserting the contrary\nwill, by you especially, be more easily believed; for Ulysses (as he\nwrites) after his shipwreck meeting Nausicaa,\n\n     A frightful sight, and with the salt besmeared\n\nsaid to her maidens,\n\n     Retire a while, till I have washed my skin,\n\nAnd when he had leaped into the river,\n\n     He from his head did scour the foaming sea.\n     (See \"Odyssey,\" vi. 137, 218, 226.)\n\nThe poet knew very well what happens in such a case; for when those that\ncome wet out of the sea stand in the sun, the subtilest and lightest\nparts suddenly exhale, but the salt and rough particles stick upon\nthe body in a crust, till they are washed away by the fresh water of a\nspring.\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHY AT ATHENS THE CHORUS OF THE TRIBE AEANTIS WAS NEVER\nDETERMINED TO BE THE LAST.\n\nPHILOPAPPUS, MARCUS, MILO, GLAUCIAS, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nWhen we were feasting at Serapion's, who gave an entertainment after the\ntribe Leontis under his order and direction had won the prize (for we\nwere citizens and free of that tribe), a very pertinent discourse, and\nproper to the then occasion, happened. It had been a very notable trial\nof skill, the king Philopappus being very generous and magnificent in\nhis rewards, and defraying the expenses of all the tribes. He was at\nthe same feast with us and being a very good-humored man and eager for\ninstruction, he would now and then freely discourse of ancient customs,\nand as freely hear.\n\nMarcus the grammarian began thus: Neanthes the Cyzicenian, in his book\ncalled the \"Fabulous Narrations of the City,\" affirms that it was\na privilege of the tribe Aeantis that their chorus should never be\ndetermined to be the last. It is true, he brings some stories for\nconfirmation of what he says; but if he falsifies, the matter is open,\nand let us all inquire after the reason of the thing. But, says Milo,\nsuppose it be a mere tale. It is no strange thing replied Philopappus,\nif in our disquisitions after truth we meet now and then with such\na thing as Democritus the philosopher did; for he one day eating a\ncucumber, and finding it of a honey taste, asked his maid where she\nbought it; and she telling him in such a garden, he rose from table and\nbade her direct him to the place. The maid surprised asked him what he\nmeant; and he replied, I must search after the cause of the sweetness\nof the fruit, and shall find it the sooner if I see the place. The maid\nwith a smile replied, Sit still, pray, sir, for I unwittingly put it\ninto a honey barrel. And he, as it were discontented, cried out, Shame\ntake thee, yet I will pursue my purpose, and seek after the cause, as if\nthis sweetness were a taste natural and proper to the fruit. Therefore\nneither will we admit Neanthes's credulity and inadvertency in some\nstories as an excuse and a good reason for avoiding this disquisition;\nfor we shall exercise our thoughts by it, though no other advantage\nrises from that inquiry.\n\nPresently every one poured out something in commendation of that\ntribe, mentioning every matter that made for its credit and reputation.\nMarathon was brought in as belonging to it, and Harmodius with his\nassociates, by birth Aphidneans, were also produced as glorious members\nof that tribe. The orator Glaucias proved that that tribe made up the\nright wing in the battle at Marathon, from the elegies of Aeschylus, who\nhad himself fought valiantly in the same encounter; and farther evinced\nthat Callimachus the field marshal was of that tribe, who behaved\nhimself very bravely, and was the principal cause next to Miltiades,\nwith whose opinion he concurred, that that battle was fought. To this\ndiscourse of Glaucias I added, that the edict which impowered Miltiades\nto lead forth the Athenians, was made when the tribe Aeantis was chief\nof the assembly, and that in the battle of Plataea the same tribe won\nthe greatest glory; and upon that account, as the oracle directed, that\ntribe offered a sacrifice for this victory to the nymphs Sphragitides,\nthe city providing a victim and all other necessaries belonging to it.\nBut you may observe (I continued) that other tribes likewise have their\npeculiar glories; and you know that mine, the tribe Leontids, yields\nto none in any point of reputation. Besides, consider whether it is not\nmore probable that this was granted out of a particular respect, and\nto please Ajax, from whom this tribe received its name; for we know\nhe could not endure to be outdone, but was easily hurried on to the\ngreatest enormities by his contentious and passionate humor; and\ntherefore to comply with him and afford him some comfort in his\ndisasters, they secured him from the most vexing grievance that follows\nthe misfortune of the conquered, by ordering that his tribe should never\nbe determined to be last.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK II.\n\nOf the several things that are provided for an entertainment,\nsome, my Sossius Senecio, are absolutely necessary; such are wine,\nbread, meat, lounges, and tables. Others are brought in, not for\nnecessity, but pleasure; such are songs, shows, mimics, and buffoons;\nwhich, when present, delight indeed, but when absent, are not eagerly\ndesired; nor is the entertainment looked upon as mean because such\nthings are wanting. Just so of discourses; some the sober men admit as\nnecessary to a banquet, and others for their pretty nice speculations,\nas more profitable and agreeable than the fiddle and the pipe. My former\nbook gives you examples of both sorts. Of the first are these, Whether\nwe should philosophize at table?--Whether the entertainer should appoint\nproper seats, or leave the guests to agree upon there own? Of the\nsecond, Why lovers are inclined to poetry? And the question about the\ntribe of Aeantis. The former I call properly [Greek omitted] but both\ntogether I comprehend under the general name of Symposiacs. They are\npromiscuously set down, not in the exact method, but as each singly\noccurred to memory. And let not my readers wonder that I dedicate these\ncollections to you, which I have received from others or your own\nmouth; for if all learning is not bare remembrance, yet to learn and to\nremember are very commonly one and the same.\n\n\n\nQUESTION I\n\nWHAT, AS XENOPHON INTIMATES, ARE THE MOST AGREEABLE QUESTIONS AND MOST\nPLEASANT RAILLERY AT AN ENTERTAINMENT?\n\nSOSSIUS, SENECIO, AND PLUTARCH.\n\nNow each book being divided into ten questions, that shall make the\nfirst in this, which Socratial Xenophon hath as it were proposed; for he\ntells that, Gobryas banqueting with Cyrus, amongst other things he found\nadmirable in the Persians, was surprised to hear them ask one another\nsuch questions that it was more pleasant to be interrogated than to be\nlet alone, and pass such jests on one another that it was more pleasant\nto be jested on than not. For if some, even whilst they praise, offend,\nwhy should not their polite and neat facetiousness be admired, whose\nvery raillery is delightful and pleasant to him that is the subject of\nit? Once you said: I wish I could learn what kind of questions those\nare; for to be skilled in and make right use of apposite questions and\npleasant raillery, I think is no small part of conversation.\n\nA considerable one, I replied; but pray observe whether Xenophon\nhimself, in his descriptions of Socrates's and the Persian\nentertainments, hath not sufficiently explained them. But if you would\nhave my thoughts, first, men are pleased to be asked those questions\nto which they have an answer ready; such are those in which the persons\nasked have some skill and competent knowledge; for when the inquiry is\nabove their reach, those that can return nothing are troubled, as\nif requested to give something beyond their power; and those that do\nanswer, producing some crude and insufficient demonstration, must needs\nbe very much concerned, and apt to blunder on the wrong. Now, if the\nanswer not only is easy but hath something not common, it is more\npleasing to them that make it; and this happens, when their knowledge\nis greater than that of the vulgar, as suppose they are well skilled\nin points of astrology or logic. For not only in action and serious\nmatters, but also in discourse, every one hath a natural disposition to\nbe pleased (as Euripides hath it)\n\n     To seem far to outdo himself.\n\nAnd all are delighted when men put such questions as they understand,\nand would have others know that they are acquainted with; and therefore\ntravellers and merchants are most satisfied when their company is\ninquisitive about other countries, the unknown ocean, and the laws\nand manners of the barbarians; they are very ready to inform them,\nand describe the countries and the creeks, imagining this to be some\nrecompense for their toil, some comfort for the dangers they have\npassed. In short, whatever though unrequested, we are wont to discourse\nof, we are desirous to be asked; because then we seem to gratify\nthose whom otherwise our prattle would disturb and force from our\nconversation. And this is the common disease of travellers. But more\ngenteel and modest men love to be asked about those things which they\nhave bravely and successfully performed, and which modesty will not\npermit to be spoken by themselves before company; and therefore Nestor\ndid well when, being acquainted with Ulysses's desire of reputation, he\nsaid,\n\n     Tell, brave Ulysses, glory of the Greeks,\n     How you the horses seized.\n     (\"Iliad,\" x. 544.)\n\nFor man cannot endure the insolence of those who praise themselves and\nrepeat their own exploits, unless the company desires it and they are\nforced to a relation; therefore it tickles them to be asked about their\nembassies and administrations of the commonwealth, if they have done\nanything notable in either. And upon this account the envious and\nill-natured start very few questions of that they sort; that thwart\nand hinder all such kind of motions, being very unwilling to give any\noccasion or opportunity for that discourse which shall tend to the\nadvantage of the relater. In short, we please those to whom we put them,\nwhen we start questions about those matters which their enemies hate to\nhear.\n\nUlysses says to Alcinous,\n\n     You bid me tell what various ills I bore,\n     That the sad tale might make me grieve the more.\n     (Sophocles, \"Oedipus at Colonus,\" 510.)\n\nAnd Oedipus says to the chorus,\n\n     'Tis pain to raise again a buried grief.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" ix. 12.)\n\nBut Euripides on the contrary,\n\n     How sweet it is, when we are lulled in ease,\n     To think of toils!--when well, of a disease!\n     (Euripides, \"Andromeda,\" Frag. 131.)\n\nTrue indeed, but not to those that are still tossed, still under a\nmisfortune. Therefore be sure never ask a man about his own calamities;\nit is irksome to relate his losses of children or estate, or any\nunprosperous adventure by sea or land; but ask a man how he carried the\ncause, how he was caressed by the king, how he escaped such a storm,\nsuch an assault, thieves, and the like; this pleaseth him, he seems to\nenjoy it over again in his relation, and is never weary of the topic.\nBesides, men love to be asked about their happy friends, or children\nthat have made good progress in philosophy or the law, or are great at\ncourt; as also about the disgrace and open conviction of their enemies;\nor of such matters they are most eager to discourse, yet are cautious\nof beginning it themselves, lest they should seem to insult over and\nrejoice at the misery of others. You please a hunter if you ask\nhim about dogs, a wrestler about exercise, and an amorous man about\nbeauties; the ceremonious and superstitious man discourses about dreams,\nand what success he hath had by following the directions of omens\nor sacrifices, and by the kindness of the gods; and some questions\nconcerning those things will extremely please him. He that inquires\nanything of an old man, though the story doth not at all concern him,\nwins his heart, and urges one that is very willing to discourse:--\n\n     Nelides Nestor, faithfully relate\n     How great Atrides died, what sort of fate;\n     And where was Menelaus largely tell?\n     Did Argos hold him when the hero fell?\n     (\"Odyssey,\" iii. 247.)\n\nHere is a multitude of questions and variety of subjects; which is much\nbetter than to confine and cramp his answers, and so deprive the old\nman of the most pleasant enjoyment he can have. In short, they that\nhad rather please than distaste will still propose such questions, the\nanswers to which shall rather get the praise and good-will than the\ncontempt and hatred of the hearers. And so much of questions.\n\nAs for raillery, those that cannot use it cautiously with art, and time\nit well, should never venture at it. For as in a slippery place, if you\nbut just touch a man as you pass by, you throw him down; so when we are\nin drink, we are in danger of tripping at every little word that is not\nspoken with due address. And we are more apt to be offended with a joke\nthan a plain and scurrilous abuse; for we see the latter often slip\nfrom a man unwittingly in passion, but consider the former as a thing\nvoluntary, proceeding from malice and ill-nature; and therefore we are\ngenerally more offended at a sharp jeerer than a whistling snarler. Such\na jest has indeed something designedly malicious about it, and often\nseems to be an insult skilfully devised and prepared. For instance, he\nthat calls thee salt-fish monger plainly and openly abuseth; but he that\nsays, I remember when you wiped your nose upon your sleeve, maliciously\njeers. Such was Cicero's to Octavius, who was thought to be descended\nfrom an African slave; for when Cicero spoke something, and Octavius\nsaid he did not hear him, Cicero rejoined, Remarkable, for you have\na hole through your ear. And Melanthius, when he was ridiculed by a\ncomedian, said, You pay me now something that you do not owe me. And\nupon this account jeers vex more; for like bearded arrows they stick a\nlong while, and gall the wounded sufferer. Their smartness is pleasant,\nand delights the company; and those that are pleased with the saving\nseem to believe the detracting speaker. For according to Theophrastus,\na jeer is a figurative reproach for some fault or misdemeanor; and\ntherefore he that hears it supplies the concealed part, as if he knew\nand gave credit to the thing. For he that laughs and is tickled at what\nTheocritus said to one whom he suspected of a design upon his clothes,\nand who asked him if he went to supper at such a place,--Yes, he\nreplied, I go, but shall likewise lodge there all night,--doth, as it\nwere, confirm the accusation, and believe the fellow was a thief. And\ntherefore an impertinent jeerer makes the whole company seem ill-natured\nand abusive, as being pleased with and consenting to the scurrility of\nthe jeer. It was one of the excellent laws in Sparta, that none should\nbe bitter in their jests, and the jeered should patiently endure; but\nif he took offence, the other was to forbear, and pursue the frolic\nno farther. How is it possible therefore to determine such raillery as\nshall delight and please the person that is jested on, when to be smart\nwithout offence is no mean piece of cunning and address?\n\nFirst then, such as will vex and gall the conscious must please those\nthat are clean, innocent, and not suspected of the matter. Such a joke\nis Xenophon's, when he pleasantly brings in a very ugly ill-looking\nfellow, and is smart upon him for being Sambaulas's minion. Such was\nthat of Aufidius Modestus, who, when our friend Quinitus in an ague\ncomplained his hands were cold, replied, Sir, you brought them warm from\nyour province; for this made Quintius laugh, and extremely pleased\nhim; yet it had been a reproach and abuse to a covetous and oppressing\ngovernor. Thus Socrates, pretending to compare faces with the beauteous\nCritobulus, rallied only, and not abused. And Alcibiades again was smart\non Socrates, as his rival in Agatho's affection. Kings are pleased when\njests are put upon them as if they were private and poor men. Such was\nthe flatterer's to Philip, who chided him: Sir, don't I keep you? For\nthose that mention faults of which the persons are not really guilty\nintimate those virtues with which they are really adorned. But then it\nis requisite that those virtues should be evident and certainly belong\nto them; otherwise the discourse will breed disturbance and suspicion.\nHe that tells a very rich man that he will procure him a sum of\nmoney,--a temperate sober man, and one that drinks water only, that\nhe is foxed, or hath taken a cup too much,--a hospitable, generous,\ngood-humored man, that he is a niggard and pinch-penny,--or threatens\nan excellent lawyer to meet him at the bar,--must make the persons smile\nand please the company. Thus Cyrus was very obliging and complaisant,\nwhen he challenged his playfellows at those sports in which he was sure\nto be overcome. And Ismenias piping at a sacrifice, when no good omens\nappeared, the man that hired him snatched the pipe, and played very\nridiculously himself; and when all found fault, he said: To play\nsatisfactorily is the gift of Heaven. And Ismenias with a smile replied:\nWhilst I played, the gods were so well pleased that they were careless\nof the sacrifice; but to be rid of thy noise they presently received it.\n\nBut more, those that jocosely put scandalous names upon things\ncommendable, if it be opportunely done, please more than he that plainly\nand openly commends; for those that cover a reproach under fair and\nrespectful words (as he that calls an unjust man Aristides, a coward\nAchilles) gall more than those that openly abuse. Such is that of\nOedipus, in Sophocles,--\n\n     The faithful Creon, my most constant friend.\n     (Sophocles, \"Oedipus Tyrannus,\" 385.)\n\nThe familiar irony in commendations answers to this on the other side.\nSuch Socrates used, when he called the kind endeavor and industry of\nAntisthenes to make men friends pimping, bawds-craft, and allurement;\nand others that called Crates the philosopher, who wherever he went was\ncaressed and honored, the door-opener.\n\nAgain, a complaint that implies thankfulness for a received favor is\npleasant raillery. Thus Diogenes of his master Antisthenes:--\n\n     That man that made me leave my precious ore,\n     Clothed me with rags, and forced me to be poor;\n     That man that made me wander, beg my bread,\n     And scorn to have a house to hide my head.\n\nFor it had not been half so pleasant to have said, that man that made\nme wise, content, and happy. And a Spartan, making as if he would find\nfault with the master of the exercises for giving him wood that would\nnot smoke, said, He will not permit us even to shed a tear. And he calls\na hospitable man, and one that treats often, a kidnapper, and a tyrant\nwho for a long time would not permit him to see his own table; and he\nwhom the king hath raised and enriched, that says he had a design\nupon him and robbed him of his sleep and quiet. So if he that hath an\nexcellent vintage should complain of Aeschlus's Cabeiri for making him\nwant vinegar, as they haul jocosely threatened. For such as these have\na pungent pleasantness, so that the praised are not offended nor take it\nill.\n\nBesides, he that would be civilly facetious must know the difference\nbetween a vice and a commendable study or recreation; for instance,\nbetween the love of money or contention and of music or hunting; for men\nare grieved if twitted with the former, but take it very well if they\nare laughed at for the latter. Thus Demosthenes the Mitylenean was\npleasant enough when, knocking at a man's door that was much given to\nsinging and playing on the harp, and being bid come in, he said, I\nwill, if you will tie up your harp. But the flatterer of Lysimachus was\noffensive; for being frighted at a wooden scorpion that the king threw\ninto his lap, and leaping out of his seat, he said after he knew the\nhumor, And I'll fright your majesty too; give me a talent.\n\nIn several things about the body too the like caution is to be observed.\nThus he that is jested on for a flat or hooked nose usually laughs\nat the jest. Thus Cassander's friend was not at all displeased when\nTheophrastus said to him, 'Tis strange, sir, that your eyes don't play,\nsince your nose is so near and so well fitted for a pipe to give them\nthe tune; and Cyrus commanded a long hawk-nosed fellow to marry a\nflat-nosed girl, for then they would very well agree. But a jest on any\nfor his stinking breath or filthy nose is irksome; for baldness it may\nbe borne, but for blindness or infirmity in the eyes it is intolerable.\nIt is true, Antigonus would joke upon himself, and once, receiving a\npetition written in great letters, he said, This a man may read if he\nwere stark blind. But he killed Theocritus the Chian for saying,--wh\n Byzantine to Pasiades saying, Sir, your eyes are weak, replied, You\nupbraid me with this infirmity, not considering that thy son carries the\nvengeance of Heaven on his back: now Pasiades's son was hunch-backed.\nAnd Archippus the popular Athenian was much displeased with Melanthius\nfor being smart on his crooked back; for Melanthius had said that he did\nnot stand at the head of the state but bowed down before it. It is true,\nsome are not much concerned at such jeers. Thus Antigonus's friend, when\nhe had begged a talent and was denied, desired a guard, lest somebody\nshould rob him of that talent he was now to carry home. Different\ntempers make men differently affected, and that which troubles one\nis not regarded by another. Epaminondas feasting with his\nfellow-magistrates drank vinegar; and some asking if it was good for his\nhealth, he replied, I cannot tell that, but I know it makes me remember\nwhat I drink at home. Therefore it becomes every man that would rally,\nto look into the humors of his company, and take heed to converse\nwithout offence.\n\nLove, as in most things else, so in this matter causes different\neffects; for some lovers are pleased and some displeased at a merry\njest. Therefore in this case a fit time must be accurately observed; for\nas a blast of wind puffs out a fire whilst it is weak and little, but\nwhen thoroughly kindled strengthens and increaseth it; so love, before\nit is evident and confessed, is displeased at a discoverer, but when it\nbreaks forth and blazes in everybody's eyes, then it is delighted and\ngathers strength by the frequent blasts of joke and raillery. When their\nbeloved is present it will gratify them most to pass a jest upon their\npassion, but to fall on any other subject will be counted an abuse. If\nthey are remarkably loving to their own wives, or entertain a generous\naffection for a hopeful youth, then are they proud, then tickled when\njeered for such a love. And therefore Arcesilaus, when an amorous man\nin his school laid down this proposition, in my opinion one thing cannot\ntouch another, replied, Sir you touch this person, pointing to a lovely\nboy that sat near him.\n\nBesides, the company must be considered; for what a man will only laugh\nat when mentioned amongst his friends and familiar acquaintance, he will\nnot endure to be told of before his wife, father, or his tutor, unless\nperhaps it be something that will please those too; as for instance,\nif before a philosopher one should jeer a man for going barefoot or\nstudying all night; or before his father, for carefulness and thrift; or\nin the presence of his wife, for being cold to his companions and doting\nupon her. Thus Tigranes, when Cyrus asked him, What will your wife say\nwhen she hears that you are put to servile offices? replied, Sir, she\nwill not hear it, but be present herself and see it.\n\nAgain, those jokes are accounted less affronting which reflect somewhat\nalso on the man that makes them; as when one poor man, base-born fellow,\nor lover jokes upon another. For whatever comes from one in the same\ncircumstances looks more like a piece of mirth than a designed affront;\nbut otherwise it must needs be irksome and distasteful. Upon this\naccount, when a slave whom the king had lately freed and enriched\nbehaved himself very impertinently in the company of some philosophers,\nasking them, how it came to pass that the broth of beans whether white\nor black, was always green, Aridices putting another question, why, let\nthe whips be white or not, the wales and marks they made were still red,\ndispleased him extremely, and made him rise from the table in a great\nrage and discontent. But Amphias the Tarsian, who was supposed to\nbe sprung from a gardener, joking upon the governor's friend for his\nobscure and mean birth, and presently subjoining, But 'tis true, I\nsprung from the same seed, caused much mirth and laughter. And\nthe harper very facetiously put a cheek to Philip's ignorance and\nimpertinence; for when Philip pretended to correct him, he cried out,\nGod forbid, sir, that ever you should be brought so low as to understand\nthese things better than I. For by this seeming joke he instructed him\nwithout giving any offence. And therefore some of the comedians seem\nto lay aside their bitterness in every jest that may reflect upon\nthemselves; as Aristophanes, when he is merry upon a baldpate; and\nCratinus in his play \"Pytine\" upon drunkenness and excess.\n\nBesides, you must be very careful that the jest should seem to be\nextempore, taken from some present question or merry humor; not\nfar-fetched, as if premeditate and designed. For as men are not much\nconcerned at the anger and disputes among themselves at table while they\nare drinking, but if any stranger should come in and offer abuse, they\nwould hate and look upon him as an enemy; so they will easily pardon and\nindulge a jest if undesignedly taken from any present circumstance; but\nif it is nothing to the matter in hand but fetched from another thing,\nit must look like a design and be resented as an affront. Such was\nthat of Timagenes to the husband of a woman that often vomited,--\"Thou\nbeginnest thy troubles by bringing home this vomiting woman,\" saying\n[Greek omitted] (this vomiting woman), when the poet had written\n[Greek omitted] (this Muse); and also his question to Athenodorus\nthe philosopher,--Is affection to our children natural? For when the\nraillery is not founded on some present circumstance, it is an argument\nof ill-nature and a mischievous temper; and such as these do often for\na mere word, the lightest thing in the world (as Plato says), suffer the\nheaviest punishment. But those that know how to time and apply a jest\nconfirm Plato's opinion, that to rally pleasantly and facetiously is the\nbusiness of a scholar and a wit.\n\n\n\nQUESTION II. WHY IN AUTUMN MEN HAVE BETTER STOMACHS THAN IN OTHER\nSEASONS OF THE YEAR.\n\nGLAUCLAS, XENOCLES, LAMPRIAS, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nIn Eleusis, after the solemn celebration of the sacred mysteries,\nGlaucias the orator entertained us at a feast; where after the rest had\ndone, Xenocles of Delphi, as his humor is, began to be smart upon\nmy brother Lamprias for his good Boeotian stomach. I in his defence\nopposing Xenocles, who was an Epicurean, said, Pray, sir, do not all\nplace the very substance of pleasure in privation of pain and suffering?\nBut Lamprias, who prefers the Lyceum before the Garden, ought by his\npractice to confirm Aristotle's doctrine; for he affirms that every man\nhath a better stomach in the autumn than in other seasons of the year,\nand gives the reason, which I cannot remember at present. So much the\nbetter (says Glaucias), for when supper is done, we will endeavor to\ndiscover it ourselves. That being over, Glaucias and Xenocles drew\nthe autumnal fruit. One said that it scoured the body, and by this\nevacuation continually raised new appetites. Xenocles affirmed, that\nripe fruit had usually a pleasing, vellicating sapor, and thereby\nprovoked the appetite better than sauces or sweetmeats; for sick men\nof a vitiated stomach usually recover it by eating fruit. But Lamprias\nsaid, that our natural heat, the principal instrument of nutrition, in\nthe midst of summer is scattered and becomes rare and weak, but when\nautumn comes it unites again and gathers strength, being shut in by the\nambient cold and contraction of the pores, and I for my part said: In\nsummer we are more thirsty and use more moisture than in other seasons;\nand therefore Nature, observing the same method in all her operations,\nat this change of seasons employs the contrary and makes us hungry;\nand to maintain an equal temper in the body, she gives us dry food to\ncountervail the moisture taken in the summer. Yet none can deny but that\nthe food itself is a partial cause; for not only new fruit, bread, or\ncorn, but flesh of the same year, is better tasted than that of the\nformer, more forcibly provokes the guests, and enticeth them to eat on.\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. WHICH WAS FIRST THE BIRD OR THE EGG?\n\nPLUTARCH, ALEXANDER, SYLLA, FIRMUS, SOSSIUS SENECIO, AND OTHERS.\n\nWhen upon a dream I had forborne eggs a long time, on purpose that in\nan egg (as in a heart) I might make experiment of a notable vision that\noften troubled me; some at Sossius Senecio's table suspected that I was\ntainted with Orpheus's or Pythagoras's opinions, and refused to eat an\negg (as some do the heart and brain) imagining it to be the principle of\ngeneration. And Alexander the Epicurean ridiculingly repeated,\n\n     To feed on beans and parents' heads\n     Is equal sin;\n\nAs if the Pythagoreans meant eggs by the word [Greek omitted] (BEANS),\nderiving it from [Greek omitted](TO CONCEIVE), and thought it as\nunlawful to feed on eggs as on the animals that lay them. Now to pretend\na dream for the cause of my abstaining, to an Epicurean, had been a\ndefence more irrational than the cause itself; and therefore I suffered\njocose Alexander to enjoy his opinion, for he was a pleasant man and an\nexcellent scholar.\n\nSoon after he proposed that perplexed question, that plague of the\ninquisitive, Which was first, the bird or the egg? And my friend Sylla,\nsaying that with this little question, as with an engine, we shook the\ngreat and weighty problem (whether the world had a beginning), declared\nhis dislike of such questions. But Alexander deriding the question as\nslight and impertinent, my relation Firmus said:. Well, sir, at present\nyour atoms will do me some service; for if we suppose that small things\nmust be the principles of greater, it is likely that the egg was before\nthe bird; for an egg amongst sensible things is very simple, and the\nbird is more mixed, and contains a greater variety of parts. It is\nuniversally true that a principle is before that whose principle it is;\nnow the seed is a principle, and the egg is somewhat more than the seed\nand less than the bird for as a disposition or a progress in goodness is\nsomething between a tractable mind and a habit of virtue, so an egg\nis as it were a progress of Nature tending from the seed to a perfect\nanimal. And as in an animal they say the veins and arteries are formed\nfirst, upon the same account the egg should be before the bird, as the\nthing containing before the thing contained. Thus art first makes rude\nand ill-shapen figures and afterwards perfects everything with its\nproper form; and it was for this that the statuary Polycletus said, Then\nour work is most difficult, when the clay comes to be fashioned by the\nfingers. So it is probable that matter, not readily obeying the slow\nmotions of contriving Nature, at first frames rude and indefinite\nmasses, as the egg, and of these moulded anew, and joined in better\norder, the animal afterward is formed. As the canker is first, and then\ngrowing dry and cleaving lets forth a winged animal, called psyche; so\nthe egg is first as it were the subject-matter of the generation. For\nit is certain that, in every change, that out of which the thing changes\nmust be before the thing changing. Observe how worms and caterpillars\nare bred in trees from the moisture corrupted or concocted; now none can\nsay but that the engendering moisture is naturally before all these. For\n(as Plato says) matter is as a mother or nurse in respect of the bodies\nthat are formed, and we call that matter out of which anything that\nis made. And with a smile continued he, I speak to those that are\nacquainted with the mystical and sacred discourse of Orpheus, who not\nonly affirms the egg to be before the bird, but makes it the first being\nin the whole world. The other parts, because deep mysteries, we shall\nnow pass by; but let us look upon the various kinds of animals, and we\nshall find almost every one beginning from an egg,--fowls and fishes;\nland animals, as lizards; amphibious, as crocodiles; some with two\nlegs, as a cock; some without any, as a snake; and some with many, as\na locust. And therefore in the solemn feast of Bacchus it is very well\ndone to dedicate an egg, as the emblem of that which begets and contains\neverything in itself.\n\nTo this discourse of Firmus, Senecio replied: Sir, your last similitude\ncontradicts your first, and you have unwittingly opened the world\n(instead of the door, as the proverb goes) against yourself. For the\nworld was before all, being the most perfect; and it is rational that\nthe perfect in Nature should be before the imperfect, as the sound\nbefore the maimed, and the whole before the part. For it is absurd\nthat there should be a part when there is nothing whose part it is; and\ntherefore nobody says the seed's man or egg's hen, but the man's seed\nand hen's egg; because those being after these and formed in them, pay\nas it were a debt to Nature, by bringing forth another. For they are not\nin themselves perfect, and therefore have a natural appetite to produce\nsuch a thing as that out of which they were first formed; and therefore\nseed is defined as a thing produced that is to be perfected by another\nproduction. Now nothing can be perfected by or want that which as yet\nis not. Everybody sees that eggs have the nature of a concretion or\nconsistence in some animal or other, but want those organs, veins, and\nmuscles which animals enjoy. And therefore no story delivers that ever\nany egg was formed immediately from earth; and the poets themselves tell\nus, that the egg out of which came the Tyndaridae fell down from heaven.\nBut even till this time the earth produceth some perfect and organized\nanimals, as mice in Egypt, and snakes, frogs, and grasshoppers almost\neverywhere, some external and invigorating principle assisting in the\nproduction. And in Sicily, where in the servile war much blood was shed,\nand many carcasses rotted on the ground, whole swarms of locusts were\nproduced, and spoiled the corn over the whole isle. Such spring from and\nare nourished by the earth; and seed being formed in them, pleasure\nand titillation provoke them to mix, upon which some lay eggs, and some\nbring forth their young alive; and this evidently proves that animals\nfirst sprang from earth, and afterwards by copulation, after different\nways, propagated their several kinds. In short, it is the same thing\nas if you said the womb was before the woman; for as the womb is to\nthe egg, the egg is to the chick that is formed in it; so that he that\ninquires how birds should be when there were no eggs, might ask as well\nhow men and women could be before any organs of generation were\nformed. Parts generally have their subsistence together with the whole;\nparticular powers follow particular members, and operations those\nPowers, and effects those operations. Now the effect of the generative\npower is the seed and egg; so that these must be after the formation\nof the whole. Therefore consider, as there can be no digestion of food\nbefore the animal is formed, so there can be no seed nor egg; for those,\nit is likely, are made by some digestion and alterations; nor can it\nbe that, before the animal is, the superfluous parts of the food of the\nanimal should have a being. Besides, though seed may perhaps pretend to\nbe a principle, the egg cannot; for it doth not subsist first, nor\nhath it the nature of a whole, for it is imperfect. Therefore we do not\naffirm that the animal is produced without a principle of its being; but\nwe call the principle that power which changes, mixes, and tempers the\nmatter, so that a living creature is regularly produced; but the egg is\nan after-production, as the blood or milk of an animal after the taking\nin and digestion of the food. For we never see an egg formed immediately\nof mud, for it is produced in the bodies of animals alone; but\na thousand living creatures rise from the mud. What need of many\ninstances? None ever found the spawn or egg of an eel; yet if you empty\na pit and take out all the mud, as soon as other water settles in it,\neels likewise are presently produced. Now that must exist first which\nhath no need of any other thing that it may exist, and that after, which\ncannot be without the concurrence of another thing. And of this priority\nis our present discourse. Besides, birds build nests before they lay\ntheir eggs; and women provide cradles, swaddling cloths and the like;\nyet who says that the nest is before the egg, or the swaddling cloths\nbefore the infant. For the earth (as Plato says doth not imitate a\nwoman, but a woman, and so likewise all other females, the earth.)\nMoreover, it is probable that the first production out of the earth,\nwhich was then vigorous and perfect, was self-sufficient and entire,\nnor stood in need of those secundines, membranes, and vessels, which now\nNature forms to help the weakness and supply the defects of breeders.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHETHER OR NO WRESTLING IS THE OLDEST EXERCISE.\n\nSOSICLES, LYSIMACHUS, PLUTARCH, PHILINUS.\n\nSosicles of Coronea having at the Pythian games won the prize from all\nthe poets, gave us an entertainment. And the time for running, cuffing,\nwrestling, and the like drawing on, there was a great talk of the\nwrestlers; for there were many and very famous men, who came to try\ntheir skill. Lysimachus, one of the company, a procurator of the\nAmphictyons, said he heard a grammarian lately affirm that wrestling was\nthe most ancient exercise of all, as even the very name witnessed; for\nsome modern things have the names of more ancient transferred to them;\nthus to tune a pipe is called fitting it, and playing on it is called\nstriking; both these names being transferred to it from the harp. Thus\nall places of exercise they call wrestling schools, wrestling being the\noldest exercise, and therefore giving its name to the newer sorts. That,\nsaid I, is no good argument, for these palaestras or wrestling schools\nare called so from wrestling [Greek omitted] not because it is the most\nancient exercise, but because it is the only sort in which they use clay\n[Greek omitted] dust, and oil; for in these there is neither racing nor\ncuffing, but wrestling only, and that feature of the pancratium in\nwhich they struggle on the ground,--for the pancratium comprises both\nwrestling and cuffing. Besides, it is unlikely that wrestling, being\nmore artificial and methodical than any other sort of exercise, should\nlikewise be the most ancient; for mere want or necessity putting us upon\nnew inventions, produces simple and inartificial things first, and\nsuch as have more of force in them than sleight and skill. This ended,\nSosicles said: You speak right, and I will confirm your discourse from\nthe very name; for, in my opinion, [Greek omitted] wrestling, is derived\nfrom [Greek omitted] i.e. to throw down by sleight and artifice. And\nPhilinus said, it seems to me to be derived from [Greek omitted] the\npalm of the hand, for wrestlers use that part most, as cuffers do the\n[Greek omitted] fist; and hence both these sorts of exercises have\ntheir proper names, the one [Greek omitted] the other [Greek omitted].\nBesides, since the poets use the word [Greek omitted] for [Greek\nomitted] and [Greek omitted], to sprinkle, and this action is most\nfrequent amongst wrestlers, this exercise [Greek omitted] may receive\nits name from that word. But more, consider that racers strive to be\ndistant from one another; cuffers, by the judges of the field, are not\npermitted to take hold; and none but wrestlers come up breast to breast,\nand clasp one another round the waist, and most of their turnings,\nliftings, lockings bring them very close. It is probable that this\nexercise is called [Greek omitted] from [Greek omitted] or [Greek\nomitted] to come up close or to be near together.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. WHY, IN RECKONING UP DIFFERENT KINDS OF EXERCISES, HOMER\nPUTS CUFFING FIRST, WRESTLING NEXT, AND RACING LAST.\n\nLYSIMACHUS, CRATES, TIMON, PLUTARCH.\n\nThis discourse being ended, and Philinus hummed, Lysimachus began again,\nWhat sort of exercise then shall we imagine to be first? Racing, as at\nthe Olympian games? For here in the Pythian, as every exercise comes\non, all the contenders are brought in, the boy wrestlers first, then the\nmen, and the same method is observed when the cuffers and fencers are to\nexercise; but there the boys perform all first, and then the men. But,\nsays Timon interposing, pray consider whether Homer hath not determined\nthis matter; for in his poems cuffing is always put in the first place,\nwrestling next, and racing last. At this Menecrates the Thessalian\nsurprised cried out, Good God, what things we skip over! But, pray sir,\nif you remember any of his verses to that purpose, do us the favor\nto repeat them. And Timon replied: That the funeral solemnities of\nPatroclus had this order I think every one hath heard; but the poet, all\nalong observing the same order, brings in Achilles speaking to Nestor\nthus:\n\n     With this reward I Nestor freely grace,\n     Unfit for cuffing, wrestling, or the race.\n\nAnd in his answer he makes the old man impertinently brag:--\n\n     I cuffing conquered Oinop's famous son,\n     With Anceus wrestled, and the garland won,\n     And outran Iphiclus.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxiii. 620 and 634.)\n\nAnd again he brings in Ulysses challenging the Phaeacians\n\n     To cuff, to wrestle, or to run the race;\n\nand Alcinous answers:\n\n     Neither in cuffing nor in wrestling strong\n     But swift of foot are we.\n     (\"Odyssey\" viii. 206 and 246.)\n\nSo that he doth not carelessly confound the order, and, according to\nthe present occasion, now place one sort first and now another; but he\nfollows the then custom and practice and is constant in the same. And\nthis was so as long as the ancient order was observed.\n\nTo this discourse of my brother's I subjoined, that I liked what he\nsaid, but could not see the reason of this order. And some of the\ncompany, thinking it unlikely that cuffing or wrestling should be a more\nancient exercise than racing, they desired me to search farther into the\nmatter; and thus I spake upon the sudden. All these exercises seem to me\nto be representations of feats of arms and training therein; for after\nall, a man armed at all points is brought in to show that that is the\nend at which all these exercises and trainings end. And the privilege\ngranted to the conquerors, viz., as they rode into the city, to throw\ndown some part of the wall--hath this meaning; that walls are but a\nsmall advantage to that city which hath men able to fight and overcome.\nIn Sparta those that were victors in any of the crowned games had an\nhonorable place in the army and were to fight near the king's person. Of\nall other creatures a horse only can have a part in these games and win\nthe crown, for that alone is designed by nature to be trained to war,\nand to prove assisting in a battle. If these things seem probable, let\nus consider farther, that it is the first work of a fighter to strike\nhis enemy and ward the other's blows; the second, when they come up\nclose and lay hold of one another, to trip and overturn him; and\nin this, they say, our countrymen being better wrestlers very much\ndistressed the Spartans at the battle of Leuctra. And Aeschylus\ndescribes a warrior thus,--\n\n     One stout, and skilled to wrestle in his arms;\n\nand Sophocles somewhere says of the Trojans,--\n\n     They rid the horse, they could the bow command\n     And wrestle with a rattling shield in hand.\n\nBut it is the third and last, either when conquered to fly, when\nconquerors to pursue. And therefore it is likely that cuffing is\nset first, wrestling next, and racing last; for the first bears the\nresemblance of charging or warding the blows; the second, of close\nfighting and repelling; the third, of flying a victorious, or pursuing a\nrouted enemy.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. WHY FIR-TREES, PINE-TREES, AND THE LIKE WILL NOT BE GRAFTED\nUPON.\n\nSOCLARUS, CRATO, PHILO.\n\nSoclarus entertaining us in his gardens, round which the river Cephissus\nruns, showed us several trees strangely varied by the different grafts\nupon their stocks. We saw an olive upon a juniper, a peach upon a\nmyrtle, pear grafts on an oak, apple upon a plane, a mulberry on a fig\nand a great many such like, which were grown strong enough to bear. Some\njoked on Soclarus as nourishing stranger kinds of things than the poets'\nSphinxes or Chimaeras, but Crato set us to inquire why those stocks only\nthat are of an oily nature will not admit such mixtures for we never see\na pine, fir, or cypress bear a graft of another kind.\n\nAnd Philo subjoined: There is, Crato, a reason for this amongst the\nphilosophers, which the gardeners confirm and strengthen. For they say,\noil is very hurtful to all plants, and any plant dipped in it like\na bee, will soon die. Now these trees are of a fat and oily nature,\ninsomuch that they weep pitch and rosin; and, if you cut then gore (as\nit were) appears presently in the wound. Besides, a torch made of them\nsends forth an oily smoke, and the brightness of the flame shows it to\nbe fat; and upon this account these trees are as great enemies to all\nother kinds of grafts as oil itself. To this Crato added, that the bark\nwas a partial cause; for that, being rare and dry, could not afford\neither convenient room or sufficient nourishment to the grafts; but when\nthe bark is moist, it quickly joins with those grafts that are let into\nthe body of the tree.\n\nThen Soclarus added: This too ought to be considered, that that which\nreceives a graft of another kind ought to be easy to be changed, that\nthe graft may prevail, and make the sap in the stock fit and natural\nto itself. Thus we break up the ground and soften it, that being thus\nbroken it may more easily be wrought upon, and applied to what we plant\nin it; for things that are hard and rigid cannot be so quickly wrought\nupon nor so easily changed. Now those trees, being of very light wood,\ndo not mix well with the grafts, because they are very hard either to\nbe changed or overcome. But more, it is manifest that the stock which\nreceives the graft should be instead of a soil to it, and a soil should\nhave a breeding faculty; and therefore we choose the most fruitful\nstocks to graft on, as women that are full of milk, when we would put\nout a child to nurse. But everybody knows that the fir, cypress, and the\nlike are no great bearers. For as men very fat have few children (for,\nthe whole nourishment being employed in the body, there remains no\noverplus to make seed), so these trees, spending all their sap in their\nown stock, flourish indeed and grow great; but as for fruit, some bear\nnone at all, some very little, and that too slowly ripens; therefore it\nis no wonder that they will not nourish another's fruit, when they are\nso very sparing to their own.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. ABOUT THE FISH CALLED REMORA OR ECHENEIS.\n\nCHAEREMONIANUS, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nChaeremonianus the Trallian, when we were at a very noble fish dinner,\npointing to a little, long, sharp-headed fish, said the echeneis\n(ship-stopper) was like that, for he had often seen it as he sailed in\nthe Sicilian sea, and wondered at its strange force; for it stopped the\nship when under full sail, till one of the seamen perceived it\nsticking to the outside of the ship, and took it off. Some laughed at\nChaeremonianus for believing such an incredible and unlikely story.\nOthers on this occasion talked very much of antipathies, and produced a\nthousand instances of such strange effects; for example, the sight of\na ram quiets an enraged elephant; a viper lies stock-still, if touched\nwith a beechen leaf; a wild bull grows tame, if bound with the twigs\nof a fig-tree; and amber draws all light things to it, except basil and\nsuch as are dipped in oil; and a loadstone will not draw a piece of iron\nthat is rubbed with onion. Now all these, as to matter of fact, are\nvery evident; but it is hard, if not altogether impossible, to find the\ncause.\n\nThen said I: This is a mere shift and avoiding of the question, rather\nthan a declaration of the cause; but if we please to consider, we shall\nfind a great many accidents that are only consequents of the effect to\nbe unjustly esteemed the causes of it; as for instance, if we should\nfancy that by the blossoming of the chaste-tree the fruit of the vine is\nripened; because this is a common saying,--\n\n     The chaste-tree blossoms, and the grapes grow ripe;\n\nOr that the little protuberances in the candle-snuff thicken the air and\nmake it cloudy; or the hookedness of the nails is the cause and not an\naccident consequential to an ulcer. Therefore as those things mentioned\nare but consequents to the effect, though proceeding from one and the\nsame cause, so one and the same cause stops the ship, and joins the\necheneis to it; for the ship continuing dry, not yet made heavy by the\nmoisture soaking into the wood, it is probable that it lightly glides,\nand as long as it is clean, easily cuts the waves; but when it is\nthoroughly soaked, when weeds, ooze, and filth stick upon its sides, the\nstroke of the ship is more obtuse and weak; and the water, coming upon\nthis clammy matter, doth not so easily part from it; and this is the\nreason why they usually calk their ships. Now it is likely that the\necheneis in this case, sticking upon the clammy matter, is not thought\nan accidental consequent to this cause, but the very cause itself.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHY THEY SAY THOSE HORSES CALLED [GREEK OMITTED] ARE VERY\nMETTLESOME.\n\nPLUTARCH, HIS FATHER, AND OTHERS.\n\nSome say the horses called [Greek omitted] received that name from the\nfashion of their bridles (called [Greek omitted]), that had prickles\nlike the teeth on the wolf's jaw; for being fiery and hard-mouthed, the\nriders used such to tame them. But my father, who seldom speaks but on\ngood reason, and breeds excellent horses, said, those that were set upon\nby wolves when colts, if they escaped, grew swift and mettlesome, and\nwere called [Greek omitted] Many agreeing to what he said, it began\nto be inquired why such an accident as that should make them more\nmettlesome and fierce; and many of the company thought that, from such\nan assault, fear and not courage was produced; and that thence growing\nfearful and apt to start at everything, their motions became more quick\nand vigorous, as they are in wild beasts when entangled in a net. But,\nsaid I, it ought to be considered whether the contrary be not more\nprobable; for the colts do not become more swift by escaping the assault\nof a wild beast, but they had never escaped unless they had been swift\nand mettlesome before. As Ulysses was not made wise by escaping from the\nCyclops, but by being wise before he escaped.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. WHY THE FLESH OF SHEEP BITTEN BY WOLVES IS SWEETER THAN\nTHAT OF OTHERS, AND THE WOOL MORE APT TO BREED LICE.\n\nPATROCLIAS, THE SAME.\n\nAfter the former discourse, mention was made of those sheep that wolves\nhave bitten; for it is commonly said of them, that their flesh is very\nsweet, and their wool breeds lice. My relative Patroclias seemed to\nbe pretty happy in his reasoning upon the first part, saying, that the\nbeast by biting it did mollify the flesh; for wolves' spirits are so\nhot and fiery, that they soften and digest the hardest bones and for\nthe same reason things bitten by wolves rot sooner than others. But\nconcerning the wool we could not agree, being not fully resolved whether\nit breeds those lice, or only opens a passage for them, separating the\nflesh by its fretting roughness or proper warmth; and appeared that this\npower proceeded from the bite of wolf, which alters even the very hair\nof the creature that it kills. And this some particular instances seem\nto confirm; for we know some huntsmen and cooks will kill a beast with\none stroke, so that it never breathes after, whilst others repeat their\nblows, and scarce do it with a great deal of trouble. But (what is more\nstrange) some, as they kill it, infuse such a quality that the flesh\nrots presently and cannot be kept sweet above a day; yet others that\ndespatch it as soon find no such alteration, but the flesh will keep\nsweet a long while. And that by the manner of killing a great alteration\nis made even in the skins, nails, and hair of a beast, Homer seems to\nwitness, when, speaking of a good hide, he says,--\n\n     An ox's hide that fell by violent blows;\n     (\"Iliad,\" iii. 375.)\n\nfor not those that fell by a disease or old age, but by a violent death,\nleave us tough and strong hides; but after they are bitten by wild\nbeasts, their hoofs grow black, their hair falls, their skins putrefy\nand are good for nothing.\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHETHER THE ANCIENTS, BY PROVIDING EVERY ONE HIS MESS, DID\nBEST OR WE, WHO SET MANY TO THE SAME DISH.\n\nPLUTARCH, HAGIAS.\n\nWhen I was chief magistrate, most of the suppers consisted of distinct\nmesses, where every particular guest had his portion of the sacrifice\nallowed him. Some were wonderfully well pleased with this order; others\nblamed it as unsociable and ungenteel, and were of the opinion that, as\nsoon as I was out of my office, the manner of entertainments ought to be\nreformed; for, says Hagias, we invite one another not barely to eat\nand drink, but to eat and drink together. Now this division into messes\ntakes away all society, makes many suppers, and many eaters, but no one\nsups with another; but every man takes his pound of beef, as from the\nmeat shop, sets it before himself, and falls on. And is it not the same\nthing to provide a different cup and different table for every guest (as\nthe Demophontidae treated Orestes), as now to set each man his loaf of\nbread and mess of meat, and feed him, as it were, out of his own proper\nmanger? Only, it is true, we are not (as those that treated Orestes\nwere) obliged to be silent and not discourse. Besides, that all the\nguests should have a share in everything, we may draw an argument from\nhence;--the same discourse is common to us all, the same songstress\nsings, and the same musician plays to all. So, when the same cup is\nset in the midst, not appropriated to any, it is a large spring of good\nfellowship, and each man may take as much as his appetite requires;\nnot like this most unjust distribution of bread and meat, which prides\nitself forsooth in being equal to all, though unequal, stomachs; for\nthe same share to a man of a small appetite is too much; to one of a\ngreater, too little. And, sir, as he that administers the very same dose\nof physic to all sorts of patients must be very ridiculous; so likewise\nmust that entertainer who, inviting a great many guests that can neither\neat nor drink alike, sets before every one an equal mess, and measures\nwhat is just and fit by an arithmetical not geometrical proportion. When\nwe go to a shop to buy, we all use, it is true, one and the same public\nmeasure; but to an entertainment each man brings his own belly, which is\nsatisfied with a portion, not because it is equal to that which others\nhave, but because it is sufficient for itself. Those entertainments\nwhere every one had his single mess Homer mentions amongst soldiers and\nin the camp, which we ought not to bring into fashion amongst us; but\nrather imitate the good friendship of the ancients, who, to show what\nreverence they had for all kinds of societies, not only respected those\nthat lived with them or under the same roof, but also those that drank\nout of the same cup or ate out of the same dish. Let us never mind\nHomer's entertainments; they were good for nothing but to starve a man,\nand the makers of them were kings more stingy and observant than the\nItalian cooks; insomuch that in the midst of a battle, whilst they were\nat handy-blows with their enemies, they could exactly reckon up how many\nglasses each man drank at his table. But those that Pindar describes are\nmuch better,--\n\n     Where heroes mixed sat round the noble board,\n\nbecause they maintained society and good fellowship; for the latter\ntruly mixed and joined friends, but our modern system divides and\nasperses them as persons who, though seemingly very good friends, cannot\nso much as eat with one another out of the same dish.\n\nTo this polite discourse of Hagias they urged me to reply. And I\nsaid: Hagias, it is true, hath reason to be troubled at this unusual\ndisappointment, because having so great a belly (for he was an excellent\ntrencherman) he had no larger mess than others; for in a fish eaten\ntogether Democritus says, there are no bones. But that very thing is\nlikely to increase our share beyond our own proper allowance. For it is\nequality, as the old woman in Euripides hath it,\n\n     That fastens towns to towns, and friends to friends;\n     (Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 536.)\n\nand entertainments chiefly stand in need of this. The necessity is from\nnature as well as custom, and is not lately introduced or founded only\non opinion. For when the same dish lies in common before all, the man\nthat is slow and eats little must be offended at the other that is too\nquick for him, as a slow ship at the swift sailor. Besides, snatching,\ncontention, shoving, and the like, are not, in my mind, neighborly\nbeginnings of mirth and jollity; but they are absurd, doggish, and\noften end in anger or reproaches, not only against one another, but also\nagainst the entertainer himself or the carvers of the feast. But as long\nas Moera and Lachesis (DIVISION AND DISTRIBUTION) maintained equality\nin feasts, nothing uncivil or disorderly was seen, and they called the\nfeasts [Greek omitted], DISTRIBUTIONS, the entertained [Greek omitted],\nand the carvers [Greek omitted], DISTRIBUTERS, from dividing and\ndistributing to every man his proper mess. The Lacedaemonians had\nofficers called distributers of the flesh, no mean men, but the chief of\nthe city; for Lysander himself by king Agesilaus was constituted one of\nthese in Asia. But when luxury crept into our feasts, distributing was\nthrown out; for I suppose they had not leisure to divide these numerous\ntarts, cheese-cakes, pies, and other delicate varieties; but, surprised\nwith the pleasantness of the taste and tired with the variety, they\nleft off cutting it into portions, and left all in common. And this\nis confirmed from the present practice; for in our religious or public\nfeasts, where the food is simple and inartificial, each man hath his\nmess assigned him; so that he that endeavors to retrieve the ancient\ncustom will likewise recover thrift and almost lost frugality again.\nBut, you object, where only property is, community is lost. True indeed,\nwhere equality is not; for not the possession of what is proper and our\nown, but the taking away of another's and coveting that which is common,\nis the cause of all injury and contention; and the laws, restraining and\nconfining these within the proper bounds, receive their name from their\noffice, being a power distributing equally to every one in order to the\ncommon good. Thus every one is not to be honored by the entertainer with\nthe garland or the chiefest place; but if any one brings with him\nhis sweetheart or a singing girl, they must be common to him and his\nfriends, that all possessions may be brought together, as Anaxagoras\nwould have it. Now if propriety in these things doth not in the least\nhinder but that things of greater moment, and the only considerable, as\ndiscourse and civility, may be still common, let us leave off abasing\ndistributions or the lot, the son of Fortune (as Euripides hath\nit), which hath no respect either to riches or honor, but in its\ninconsiderate wheel now and then raiseth up the humble and the poor, and\nmakes him master of himself, and, by accustoming the great and rich to\nendure and not be offended at equality, pleasingly instructs.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK III\n\nSimonides the poet, my Sossius Senecio, seeing one of the company sit\nsilent and discourse nobody, said: Sir, if you are fool, it is wisely\ndone; if a wise man, very foolishly. It is good to conceal a man's\nfolly (but as Heraclitus says) it is very hard to do it over a glass of\nwine,--\n\n     Which doth the gravest men to mirth advance,\n     And let them loose to sing, to laugh, and dance,\n     And speak what had been better unsaid.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xiv. 464.)\n\nIn which lines the poet in my mind shows the difference between being\na little heated and downright drunk; for to sing, laugh, and dance may\nagree very well with those that have gone no farther than the merry cup;\nbut to prattle, and speak what had been better left unsaid, argues a\nman to be quite gone. And therefore Plato thinks that wine is the must\ningenious discoverer of men's humors; and Homer, when he says,--\n\n     At feasts they had not known each other's minds,\n     (Ibid. xxi. 35.)\n\nevidently shows that he knew wine was powerful to open men's thoughts,\nand was full of new discoveries. It is true from the bare eating and\ndrinking, if they say nothing we can give no guess at the tempers of the\nmen; but because drinking leads them into discourse, and discourse lays\na great many things open and naked which were secret and hid before,\ntherefore to sport a glass of wine together lets us into one another's\nhumors. And therefore a man may reasonably fall foul on Aesop: Why sir,\nwould you have a window in every man's breast, through which we may look\nin upon his thoughts? Wine opens and exposes all, it will not suffer us\nto be silent, but takes off all mask and visor, and makes us regardless\nof the severe precepts of decency and custom. Thus Aesop or Plato,\nor any other that designs to look into a man, may have his desires\nsatisfied by the assistance of a bottle; but those that are not\nsolicitous to pump one another, but to be sociable and pleasant,\ndiscourse of such matters and handle such questions as make no discovery\nof the bad parts of the soul, but such as comfort the good, and, by\nthe help of neat and polite learning, lead the intelligent part into\nan agreeable pasture and garden of delight This made me collect and\ndedicate the first to you this third dedication of table discourses, the\nfirst of which is about chaplets made of flowers.\n\n\n\nQUESTION I. WHETHER IT IS FITTING TO WEAR CHAPLETS OF FLOWERS AT TABLE.\n\nERATO, AMMONIUS, TRYPHO, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nAt Athens Erato the musician keeping a solemn feast to the Muses, and\ninviting a great many to the treat, the company was full of talk, and\nthe subject of the discourse garlands. For after supper many of all\nsorts of flowers being presented to the guests, Ammonius began to jeer\nme for choosing a rose chaplet before a laurel, saying that those made\nof flowers were effeminate, and fitted toyish girls and women more than\ngrave philosophers and men of music. And I admire that our friend Erato,\nthat abominates all flourishing in songs, and blames good Agatho, who\nfirst in his tragedy of the Mysians ventured to introduce the chromatic\nairs, should himself fill his entertainment with such various and\nsuch florid colors; yet, while he shuts out all the soft delights that\nthrough the ears can enter to the soul, he should introduce others\nthrough the eyes and through the nose, and make these garlands, instead\nof signs of piety, to be instruments of pleasure. For it must be\nconfessed that this ointment gives a better smell than those trifling\nflowers, which wither even in the hands of those that wreathe them.\nBesides, all pleasure must be banished the company of philosophers,\nunless it is of some use or desired by natural appetite; for as those\nthat are carried to a banquet by some of their invited friends (as, for\ninstance, Socrates carried Aristodemus to Agatho's table) are as civilly\nentertained as the bidden guests, but he that goes on his own account\nis shut out of doors; thus the pleasures of eating and drinking, being\ninvited by natural appetite, should have admission; but all the others\nwhich come on no account and have only luxury to introduce them, ought\nin reason to be denied.\n\nAt this some young men, not thoroughly acquainted with Ammonius's humor,\nbeing abashed, privately tore their chaplets; but I, perceiving that\nAmmonius proposed this only for discourse and disputation's sake,\napplying myself to Trypho the physician, said: Sir, you must put off\nthat sparkling rosy chaplet as well as we, or declare, as I have often\nheard you, what excellent preservatives these flowery garlands are\nagainst the strength of liquor. But here Erato putting in said: What, is\nit decreed that no pleasure must be admitted without profit? And must\nwe be angry with our delight, unless hired to endure it? Perhaps we\nmay have reason to be ashamed of ointments and purple vests, because\nso costly and expensive, and to look upon them as (in the barbarian's\nphrase) treacherous garments and deceitful odors; but these natural\nsmells and colors are pure and simple as fruits themselves, and without\nexpense or the curiosity of art. And I appeal to any one, whether it is\nnot absurd to receive the pleasant savors Nature gives us, and enjoy\nand reject those smells and colors that the seasons afford us, because\nforsooth they blossom with delight, if they have no other external\nprofit or advantage. Besides, we have an axiom against you, for if (as\nyou affirm) Nature makes nothing in vain, those things that have no\nother use were designed on purpose to please and to delight. Besides,\nobserve that to thriving trees Nature hath given leaves, both for the\npreservation of the fruit and of the stock itself; for those sometimes\nwarming, sometimes cooling it, the seasons creep on by degrees, and\ndo not assault it with all their violence at once. But now the flower,\nwhilst it is on the plant, is of no profit at all, unless we use it to\ndelight our nose with the admirable smell, and to please our eyes when\nit opens that inimitable variety of colors. And therefore, when the\nleaves are plucked off, the plants as it were suffer injury and grief.\nThere is a kind of an ulcer raised, and an unbecoming nakedness attends\nthem; and we must not only (as Empedocles says)\n\n     By all means spare the leaves that grace the palm,\n\nbut likewise of all other trees, and not injuriously against Nature\nrobbing them of their leaves, bring deformity on them to adorn\nourselves. But to pluck the flowers doth no injury at all. It is like\ngathering of grapes at the time of vintage; unless plucked when ripe,\nthey wither of themselves and fall. And therefore, like the barbarians\nwho clothe themselves with the skins more commonly than with the wool of\nsheep, those that wreathe leaves rather than flowers into garlands seem\nto me to use the plants neither according to the dictates of reason nor\nthe design of Nature. And thus much I say in defence of those who sell\nchaplets of flowers; for I am not grammarian enough to remember those\npoems which tell us that the old conquerors in the sacred games were\ncrowned with flowers. Yet, now I think of it, there is a story of a rosy\ncrown that belongs to the Muses; Sappho mentions it in a copy of verses\nto a woman unlearned and unacquainted with the Muses:--\n\n     Thou shalt unregarded lie\n     Cause ne'er acquainted with the Muses' Rose.\n     (From Sappho, Frag. 68.)\n\nBut if Trypho can produce anything to our advantage from physic, pray\nlet us have it.\n\nThen Trypho taking the discourse said: The ancients were very curious\nand well acquainted with all these things, because plants were the chief\ningredients of their physic. And of this some signs remain till now;\nfor the Tyrians offer to Agenor, and the Magnesians to Chiron, the first\nsupposed practitioners of physic, as the first fruits, the roots of\nthose plants which have been successful on a patient. And Bacchus was\nnot only counted a physician for finding wine, the most pleasing\nand most potent remedy, but for bringing ivy, the greatest opposite\nimaginable to wine, into reputation, and for teaching his drunken\nfollowers to wear garlands of it, that by that means they might be\nsecured against the violence of a debauch, the heat of the liquor being\nremitted by the coldness of the ivy. Besides, the names of several\nplants sufficiently evidence the ancients curiosity in this matter; for\nthey named the walnut-tree [Greek omitted], because it sends forth a\nheavy and [Greek omitted] drowsy spirit, which affects their heads who\nsleep beneath it; and the daffodil, [Greek omitted], because it benumbs\nthe nerves and causes a stupid narcotic heaviness in the limbs, and\ntherefore Sophocles calls it the ancient garland flower of the great\n(that is, the earthy) gods. And some say rue was called [Greek omitted]\nfrom its astringent quality; for, by its dryness preceding from its\nheat, it fixes [Greek omitted] or dries the seed, and is very hurtful\nto great-bellied women. But those that imagine the herb amethyst [Greek\nomitted], and the precious stone of the same name, are called so because\npowerful against the force of wine are much mistaken; for both receive\nthere names from their color; for its leaf is not of the color of strong\nwine, but resembles that of weak diluted liquor. And indeed I could\nmention a great many which have their names from their proper virtues.\nBut the care and the experience of the ancients sufficiently appears in\nthose of which they made their garlands when they designed to be merry\nand frolic over a glass of wine; for wine, especially when it seizes on\nthe head, and weakens the body just at the very spring and origin of\nthe sense, disturbs the whole man. Now the effluvia of flowers are an\nadmirable preservative against this, they secure the brain, as it were a\ncitadel, against the effects of drunkenness; for those that are hot\nupon the pores and give the fumes free passage to exhale, and those\nmoderately cold repel and keep down the ascending vapors. Such are the\nviolet and rose; for the odors of both these are prevalent against any\nache and heaviness in the head. The flowers of the privet and crocus\nbring those that have drunk freely into a gentle sleep; for they\nsend forth a smooth and gentle effluvia, which softly takes off all\nasperities that arise in the body of the drunken; and so all things\nbeing quiet and composed, the violence on the noxious humor is abated\nand thrown off. The smells of some flowers being received into the brain\ncleanse the organs and instruments of sense, and gently by their heat,\nwithout any violence or force, dissolve the humors, and warm and cherish\nthe brain itself, which is naturally cold. And upon this account, they\ncall those little posies they hang about their necks [Greek omitted],\nand anointed their breasts with the oils that were squeezed from them;\nand of this Alcaeus is a witness, when he bids his friends,\n\n     Pour ointments o'er his laboring temples, pressed\n     With various cares, and o'er his aged breast.\n\nFor the warm odors shoot upward into the very brain, being drawn up by\nthe nostrils. For they did not call those garlands hung about the neck\n[Greek omitted] because they thought the heart was the seat and citadel\nof the mind [Greek omitted], for on that account they should rather have\ncalled them [Greek omitted], but, as I said before, from their vapor\nand exhalation. Besides, it is no strange thing that these smells of\ngarlands should be of so considerable a virtue; for some tell us that\nthe shadow of the yew, especially when it blossoms, kills those that\nsleep under it; and a subtle spirit ariseth from pressed poppy, which\nsuddenly overcomes the unwary squeezers. And there is an herb called\nalyssus, which to some that take it in their hands, to others that do\nbut look on it, is found a present remedy against the hiccough; and some\naffirm that planted near the stalls it preserves sheep and goats from\nthe rot and mange. And the rose is called [Greek omitted], probably\nbecause it sends forth a stream [Greek omitted] of odors; and for that\nreason it withers presently. It is a cooler, yet fiery to look upon; and\nno wonder, for upon the surface a subtile heat, being driven out by the\ninward heat, looks vivid and appears.\n\n\n\nQUESTION II. WHETHER IVY IS OF A HOT OR COLD NATURE.\n\nAMMONIUS, TRYPHO, ERATO.\n\nUpon this discourse, when we all hummed Trypho, Ammonius with a smile\nsaid: It is not decent by any contradiction to pull in pieces, like a\nchaplet, this various and florid discourse of Trypho's. Yet methinks the\nivy is a little oddly interwoven, and unjustly said by its cold powers\nto temper the heat of strong wine; for it is rather fiery and hot, and\nits berries steeped in wine make the liquor more apt to inebriate and\ninflame. And from this cause, as in sticks warped by the fire, proceeds\nthe crookedness of the boughs. And snow, that for many days will lie on\nother trees, presently melts from the branches of the ivy, and wastes\nall around, as far as the warmth reaches. But the greatest evidence is\nthis. Theophrastus tells us, that when Alexander commanded Harpalus to\nplant some Grecian trees in the Babylonian gardens, and--because the\nclimate is very hot and the sun violent--such as were leafy, thick, and\nfit to make a shade, the ivy only would not grow; though all art and\ndiligence possible were used, it withered and died. For being hot\nitself, it could not agree with the fiery nature of the soil; for excess\nin similar qualities is destructive, and therefore we see everything as\nit were affects its contrary; a cold plant flourishes in a hot ground,\nand a hot plant is delighted with a cold. Upon which account it is that\nbleak mountains, exposed to cold winds and snow, bear firs, pines,\nand the like, full of pitch, fiery, and excellent to make a torch. But\nbesides, Trypho, trees of a cold nature, their little feeble heat not\nbeing able to diffuse itself but retiring to the heart, shed their\nleaves; but their natural oiliness and warmth preserve the laurel,\nolive, and cypress always green; and the like too in the ivy may be\nobserved. And therefore it is not likely our dear friend Bacchus, who\ncalled wine [Greek omitted] intoxicating and himself [Greek omitted],\nshould bring ivy into reputation for being a preservative against\ndrunkenness and an enemy to wine. But in my opinion, as lovers of wine,\nwhen they have not any juice of the grape ready, drink ale, mead, cider,\nor the like; thus he that in winter would have a vine-garland on his\nhead, and finding the vine naked and without leaves, used the ivy that\nis like it; for its boughs are twisted and irregular, its leaves\nmoist and disorderly confused, but chiefly the berries, like ripening\nclusters, make an exact representation of the vine. But grant the ivy to\nbe a preservative against drunkenness,--that to please you, Trypho, we\nmay name Bachus a physician,--still I affirm that power to proceed from\nits heat, which either opens the pores or helps to digest the wine.\n\nUpon this Trypho sat silent, studying for an answer. Erato addressing\nhimself to us youths, said: Trypho wants your assistance; help him\nin this dispute about the garlands, or be content to sit without any.\nAmmonius too bade us not be afraid, for he would not reply to any of our\ndiscourses; and Trypho likewise urging me to propose something, I said:\nTo demonstrate that the ivy is cold is not so proper a task for me as\nTrypho, for he often useth coolers and binders; but that proposition,\nthat wine in which ivy berries have been is more inebriating, is not\ntrue; for that disturbance which it raiseth in those that drink it is\nnot so properly called drunkenness as alienation of mind or madness,\nsuch as hyoscyamus and a thousand other things that set men beside\nthemselves usually produce. The crookedness of the bough is no argument\nat all, for such violent and unnatural effects cannot be supposed to\nproceed from any natural quality or power. Now sticks are bent by the\nfire, because that draws the moisture, and so the crookedness is a\nviolent distortion; but the natural heat nourishes and preserves the\nbody. Consider, therefore, whether it is not the weakness and coldness\nof the body that makes it wind, bend, and creep upon the ground; for\nthose qualities check its rise, and depress it in its ascent, and render\nit like a weak traveller, that often sits down and then goes on again.\nAnd therefore the ivy requires something to twine about, and needs a\nprop; for it is not able to sustain and direct its own branches, because\nit wants heat, which naturally tends upward. The snow is melted by the\nwetness of the leaf, for water destroys it easily, passing through the\nthin contexture, it being nothing but a congeries of small bubbles; and\ntherefore in very cold but moist places the snow melts as soon as in\nhot. That it is continually green doth not proceed from its heat, for to\nshed its leaves doth not argue the coldness of a tree. Thus the myrtle\nand well fern, though not hot, but confessedly cold, are green all\nthe year. Some imagine this comes from the equal and duly proportioned\nmixture of the qualities in the leaf, to which Empedocles hath added a\ncertain aptness of pores, through which the nourishing juice is orderly\ntransmitted, so that there is still supply sufficient. But now it is\notherwise in trees whose leaves fall, by reason of the wideness of their\nhigher and narrowness of their lower pores; for the latter do not send\njuice enough, nor do the former keep it, but as soon as a small stock is\nreceived pour it out. This may be illustrated from the usual watering of\nour gardens; for when the distribution is unequal, the plants that are\nalways watered have nourishment enough, seldom wither, and look always\ngreen. But you further argue, that being planted in Babylon it would not\ngrow. It was well done of the plant, methinks, being a particular\nfriend and familiar of the Boeotian god, to scorn to live amongst the\nbarbarians, or imitate Alexander in following the manners of those\nnations; but it was not its heat but cold that was the cause of this\naversion, for that could not agree with the contrary quality. For one\nsimilar quality doth not destroy but cherish another. Thus dry ground\nbears thyme, though it is naturally hot. Now at Babylon they say the air\nis so suffocating, so intolerably hot, that many of the more prosperous\nsleep upon skins full of water, that they may lie cool.\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. WHY WOMEN ARE HARDLY, OLD MEN EASILY, FOXED.\n\nFLORUS, SYLLA.\n\nFlorus thought it strange that Aristotle in his discourse of\nDrunkenness, affirming that old men are easily, women hardly, overtaken,\ndid not assign the cause, since he seldom failed on such occasions.\nTherefore he proposed it to us (we were a great many acquaintance met\nat supper) as a fit subject for our inquiry. Sylla began: One part will\nconduce to the discovery of the other; and if we rightly hit the cause\nin relation to the women, the difficulty, as it concerns the old men,\nwill be easily despatched; for their two natures are quite contrary.\nMoistness, smoothness, and softness belong to the one; and dryness,\nroughness, and hardness are the accidents of the other. As for women,\nI think the principal cause is the moistness of their temper; this\nproduceth a softness in the flesh, a shining smoothness, and their usual\npurgations. Now when wine is mixed with a great deal of weak liquor,\nit is overpowered by that, loses its strength, and becomes flat and\nwaterish. Some reason likewise may be drawn from Aristotle himself; for\nhe affirms that those that drink fast, and take a large draught without\ndrawing breath, are seldom overtaken, because the wine doth not stay\nlong in their bodies, but having acquired an impetus by this greedy\ndrinking, suddenly runs through; and women are generally observed to\ndrink after that manner. Besides, it is probable that their bodies,\nby reason of the continual deduction of the moisture in order to their\nusual purgations, are very porous, and divided as it were into many\nlittle pipes and conduits; into which when the wine falls, it is quickly\nconveyed away, and doth not lie and fret the principal parts, from whose\ndisturbance drunkenness proceeds. But that old men want the natural\nmoisture, even the name [Greek omitted], in my opinion, intimates; for\nthat name was given them not as stooping to the earth [Greek omitted]\nbut as being in the habit of their body [Greek omitted] and [Greek\nomitted], earthlike and earthy. Besides, the stiffness and roughness\nprove the dryness of their nature. Therefore it is probable that, when\nthey drink, their body, being grown spongy by the dryness of its nature,\nsoaks up the wine, and that lying in the vessels it affects the senses\nand prevents the natural motions. For as floods of water glide over the\nclose grounds, nor make them slabby, but quickly sink into the open and\nchapped fields; thus wine, being sucked in by the dry parts, lies and\nworks in the bodies of old men. But besides, it is easy to observe,\nthat age of itself hath all the symptoms of drunkenness. These symptoms\neverybody knows; viz., shaking of the joints, faltering of the tongue,\nbabbling, passion, forgetfulness, and distraction of the mind; many\nof which being incident to old men, even whilst they are well and in\nperfect health, are heightened by any little irregularity and accidental\ndebauch. So that drunkenness doth not beget in old men any new and\nproper symptoms, but only intend and increase the common ones. And an\nevident sign of this is, that nothing is so like an old man as a young\nman drunk.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHETHER THE TEMPER OF WOMEN IS COLDER OR HOTTER THAN THAT\nOF MEN.\n\nAPOLLONIDES, ATHRYILATUS.\n\nThus Sylla said, and Apollonides the marshal subjoined: Sir, what you\ndiscoursed of old men I willingly admit; but in my opinion you have\nomitted a considerable reason in relation to the women, viz., the\ncoldness of their temper, which quencheth the heat of the strongest\nwine, and makes it lose all its destructive force and fire. This\nreflection seeming reasonable, Athryilatus the Thasian, a physician,\nkept us from a hasty conclusion in this matter, by saying that some\nsupposed the female sex was not cold, but hotter than the male; and\nothers thought wine rather cold than hot.\n\nWhen Florus seemed surprised at this discourse, Athryilatus continued:\nSir, what I mention about wine I shall leave to this man to make out\n(pointing to me, for a few days before we had handled the same matter).\nBut that women are of a hot constitution, some suppose, may be proved,\nfirst, from their smoothness, for their heat wastes all the superfluous\nnourishment which breeds hair; secondly from their abundance of blood,\nwhich seems to be the fountain and source of all the heat that is in the\nbody;--now this abounds so much in females, that they would be all on\nfire, unless relieved by frequent and sudden evacuations. Thirdly, from\na usual practice of the sextons in burning the bodies of the dead, it is\nevident that females are hotter than males; for the bedsmen are wont to\nput one female body with ten males upon the same pile, for that contains\nsome inflammable and oily parts, and serves for fuel to the rest.\nBesides, if that that is soonest fit for generation is hottest, and a\nmaid begins to be furious sooner than a boy, this is a strong proof\nof the hotness of the female sex. But a more convincing proof follows:\nwomen endure cold better than men, they are not so sensible of the\nsharpness of the weather, and are contented with a few clothes.\n\nAnd Florus replied: Methinks, sir, from the same topics I could draw\nconclusions against your assertion. For, first, they endure cold better,\nbecause one similar quality doth not so readily act upon another; and\nthen again, their seed is not active in generation, but passive matter\nand nourishment to that which the male injects. But more, women grow\neffete sooner than men; that they burn better than the males proceeds\nfrom their fat, which is the coldest part of the body; and young men, or\nsuch as use exercise, have but little fat. Their monthly purgations do\nnot prove the abundance, but the corruption and badness, of their blood;\nfor being the superfluous and undigested part, and having no convenient\nvessel in the body it flows out, and appears languid and feculent, by\nreason of the weakness of its heat. And the shivering that seizes them\nat the time of their purgations sufficiently proves that which flows\nfrom them is cold and undigested. And who will believe their smoothness\nto be an effect of heat rather than cold, when everybody knows that the\nhottest parts of a body are the most hairy? For all such excrements are\nthrust out by the heat, which opens and makes passages through the skin;\nbut smoothness is a consequent of that closeness of the superficies\nwhich proceeds from condensing cold. And that the flesh of women is\ncloser than that of men, you may be informed by those that lie with\nwomen that have anointed themselves with oil or other perfumes; for\nthough they do not touch the women, yet they find themselves perfumed,\ntheir bodies by reason of their heat and rarity drawing the odor to\nthem. But I think we have disputed plausibly and sufficiently of this\nmatter....\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. WHETHER WINE IS POTENTIALLY COLD.\n\nATHRYILATUS, PLUTARCH.\n\nBut now I would fain know upon what account you can imagine that wine is\ncold. Then, said I, do you believe this to be my opinion? Yes, said\nhe, whose else? And I replied: I remember a good while ago I met with a\ndiscourse of Aristotle's upon this very question. And Epicurus, in his\nBanquet, hath a long discourse, the sum of which is that wine of itself\nis not hot, but that it contains some atoms that cause heat, and others\nthat cause cold; now, when it is taken into the body, it loses one sort\nof particles and takes the other out of the body itself, as it agrees\nwith one's nature and constitution; so that some when they are drunk are\nvery hot, and others very cold.\n\nThis way of talking, said Florus, leads us by Protagoras directly to\nPyrrho; for it is evident that, suppose we were to discourse of\noil, milk, honey, or the like, we shall avoid all inquiry into their\nparticular natures by saying that things are so and so by their mutual\nmixture with one another. But how do you prove that wine is cold? And I,\nbeing forced to speak extempore, replied: By two arguments. The first I\ndraw from the practice of physicians, for when their patients' stomachs\ngrow very weak, they prescribe no hot things, and yet give them wine\nas an excellent remedy. Besides, they stop looseness and immoderate\nsweating by wine; and this shows that they think it more binding and\nconstipating than snow itself. Now if it were potentially hot, I should\nthink it as wise a thing to apply fire to snow as wine to the stomach.\n\nAgain, most teach that sleep proceeds from the coolness of the parts;\nand most of the narcotic medicines, as mandrake and opium, are coolers.\nThose indeed work violently, and forcibly condense, but wine cools by\ndegrees; it gently stops the motion, according as it hath more or less\nof such narcotic qualities. Besides, heat has a generative power; for\nowing to heat the fluid flows easily and the vital spirit gets vigor\nand a stimulating force. Now the great drinkers are very dull, inactive\nfellows, no women's men at all; they eject nothing strong, vigorous, and\nfit for generation, but are weak and unperforming, by reason of the bad\ndigestion and coldness of their seed. And it is farther observable\nthat the effects of cold and drunkenness upon men's bodies are the\nsame,--trembling, heaviness, paleness, shivering, faltering of tongue,\nnumbness, and cramps. In many, a debauch ends in a dead palsy, when the\nwine stupefies and extinguisheth all the heat. And the physicians use\nthis method in curing the qualms and diseases gotten by debauch; at\nnight they cover them well and keep them warm; and at day they annoint\nand bathe, and give them such food as shall not disturb, but by degrees\nrecover the heat which the wine hath scattered and driven out of the\nbody. Thus, I added, in these appearances we trace obscure qualities and\npowers; but as for drunkenness, it is easily known what it is. For, in\nmy opinion, as I hinted before, those that are drunk are very much like\nold men; and therefore great drinkers grow old soonest, and they are\ncommonly bald and gray before their time; and all these accidents\ncertainly proceed from want of heat. But mere vinegar is of a vinous\nnature, and nothing quenches fire so soon as that; its extreme coldness\novercomes and kills the flame presently. And of all fruits physicians\nuse the vinous as the greatest coolers, as pomegranates and apples.\nBesides, do they not make wine by mixing honey with rain-water or snow;\nfor the cold, because those two qualities are near akin, if it prevails,\nchanges the luscious into a poignant taste? And did not the ancients of\nall the creeping beasts consecrate the snake to Bacchus, and of all the\nplants the ivy, because they were of a cold and frozen nature? Now, lest\nany one should think this is a proof of its heat, that if a man takes\njuice of hemlock, a large dose of wine cures him, I shall, on the\ncontrary affirm that wine and hemlock juice mixed is an incurable\npoison, and kills him that drinks it presently. So that we can no more\nconclude it to be hot because it resists, than to be cold because it\nassists, the poison. For cold is the only quality by which hemlock juice\nworks and kills.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. WHICH IS THE FITTEST TIME FOR A MAN TO KNOW HIS WIFE?\n\nYOUTHS, ZOPYRUS, OLYMPICHUS, SOCLARUS.\n\nSome young students, that had not gone far in the learning of the\nancients, inveighed against Epicurus for bringing in, in his Svmposium,\nan impertinent and unseemly discourse, about what time was best to lie\nwith a woman; for an old man at supper in the company of youths to talk\nof such a subject, and dispute whether after or before supper was the\nmost convenient time, argued him to be a very loose and debauched man.\nTo this some said that Xenophon, after his entertainment was ended, sent\nall his guests home on horseback, to lie with their wives. But Zopyrus\nthe physician, a man very well read in Epicurus, said, that they had not\nduly weighed that piece; for he did not propose that question first,\nand then discuss that matter on purpose; but after supper he desired the\nyoung men to take a walk, and he then discoursed on it, that he might\npersuade them to continence, and to abate their desires and restrain\ntheir appetites; showing them that it was very dangerous at all times,\nbut especially after they had been eating or making merry. But suppose\nhe had proposed this as the chief topic for discourse, doth it never\nbecome a philosopher to inquire which is the convenient and proper time?\nOught we not to time it well, and direct our embrace by reason? Or may\nsuch discourse be otherwise allowed, and must they be thought unseemly\nproblems to be proposed at table? Indeed I am of another mind. It is\ntrue, I should blame a philosopher that in the middle of the day, in the\nschools, before all sorts of men, should discourse of such a subject;\nbut over a glass of wine between friends and acquaintance, when it\nis necessary to propose something beside dull, serious discourse, why\nshould it be a fault to hear or speak anything that may inform our\njudgments or direct our practice in such matters? And I protest I had\nrather that Zeno had inserted his loose topics in some merry discourses\nand agreeable table-talk, than in such a grave, serious piece as his\npolitics.\n\nThe youth, startled at this free declaration, sat silent; and the rest\nof the company desired Zopyrus to deliver Epicurus's sentiment. He said:\nThe particulars I cannot remember; but I believe he feared the violent\nagitations of such exercises, because the bodies employed in them are\nso violently disturbed. For it is certain that wine is a very great\ndisturber, and puts the body out of its usual temper; and therefore,\nwhen thus disquieted, if quiet and sleep do not compose it but other\nagitations seize it, it is likely that those parts which knit and join\nthe members may be loosened, and the whole frame be as it were unsettled\nfrom its foundation and overthrown. For then likewise the seed cannot\nfreely pass, but is confusedly and forcibly thrown out, because the\nliquor hath filled the vessels of the body, and stopped its way.\nTherefore, says Epicurus, we must use those sports when the body is at\nquiet, when the meat hath been thoroughly digested, carried about and\napplied to several parts of the body, so that we begin to want a fresh\nsupply of food. To this of Epicurus we might join an argument taken from\nphysic. At day-time, while our digestion is performing, we are not so\nlusty nor eager to embrace; and presently after supper to endeavor it\nis dangerous, for the crudity of the stomach, the food being yet\nundigested, may be disorderly motion upon this crudity, and so the\nmischief be double. Olympicus, continuing the discourse, said: I very\nmuch like what Clinias the Pythagorean delivers. For the story goes\nthat, being asked when a man should lie with a woman, he replied,\nwhen he hath a mind to receive the greatest mischief that he can. For\nZopyrus's discourse seems rational, and other times as well as those he\nmentions have their peculiar inconveniences. And therefore,--as Thales\nthe philosopher, to free himself from the pressing solicitations of his\nmother who advised him to marry, said at first, 'tis not yet time; and\nwhen, now he was growing old, she repeated her admonition, replied, nor\nis it now time,--so it is best for every man to have the same mind in\nrelation to those sports of Venus; when he goes to bed, let him say,\n'tis not yet time; and when he rises, 'tis not now time.\n\nWhat you say, Olympicus, said Soclarus interposing, befits wrestlers\nindeed; it smells, methinks, of their meals of flesh and casks of wine,\nbut is not suitable to the resent company, for there are some young\nmarried men here,\n\n     Whose duty 'tis to follow Venus' sports.\n\nNay, we ourselves seem to have some relation to Venus still, when in our\nhymns to the gods we pray thus to her,\n\n     Fair Venus, keep off feeble age.\n\nBut waiving this, let us inquire (if you think fit) whether Epicurus\ndoes well, when contrary to all right and equity he separates Venus and\nthe Night, though Menander, a man well skilled in love matters, says\nthat she likes her company better than that of any of the gods. For, in\nmy opinion, night is a very convenient veil, spread over those that give\nthemselves to that kind of pleasure; for it is not fit that day should\nbe the time, lest modesty should be banished from our eyes, effeminacy\ngrow bold, and such vigorous impressions on our memories be left, as\nmight still possess us with the same fancies and raise new inclinations.\nFor the sight (according to Plato) receives a more vigorous impression\nthan any other bodily organ, and joining with the imagination, that lies\nnear it, works presently upon the soul, and ever causes fresh desires by\nthose images of pleasure which it brings. But the night, hiding many and\nthe most furious of the actions, quiets and lulls nature, and doth not\nsuffer it to be carried to intemperance by the eye. But besides this,\nhow absurd is it, that a man returning from an entertainment merry\nperhaps and jocund, crowned and perfumed, should cover himself up, turn\nhis back to his wife, and go to sleep; and then at day-time, in the\nmidst of his business, send for her out of her apartment to serve his\npleasure or in the morning, as a cock treads his hens. No, sir the\nevening is the end of our labor, and the morning the beginning. Bacchus\nthe Loosener and Terpsichore and Thalia preside over the former; and the\nlatter raiseth us up betimes to attend on Minerva the Work-mistress,\nand Mercury the merchandiser. And therefore songs, dances, and\nepithalamiums, merry-meetings, with balls and feasts, and sounds of\npipes and flutes, are the entertainment of the one; but in the other,\nnothing but the noise of hammers and anvils, the scratching of saws,\nthe city cries, citations to court or to attend this or that prince and\nmagistrate are heard.\n\n     Then all the sports of pleasure disappear,\n     Then Venus, then gay youth removes:\n     No Thyrsus then which Bacchus loves;\n     But all is clouded and o'erspread with care.\n\nBesides, Homer makes not one of the heroes lie with his wife or mistress\nin the day-time, but only Paris, who, having shamefully fled from the\nbattle, sneaked into the embraces of his wife; intimating that such\nlasciviousness by day did not befit the sober temper of a man, but the\nmad lust of an adulterer. But, moreover, the body will not (as Epicurus\nfancies) be injured more after supper than at any other time, unless a\nman be drunk or overcharged,--for in those cases, no doubt, it is very\ndangerous and hurtful. But if a man is only raised and cheered, not\noverpowered by liquor, if his body is pliable, his mind agreeing, and\nthen he sports, he need not fear any disturbance from the load he\nhas within him; he need not fear catching cold, or too great a\ntransportation of atoms, which Epicurus makes the cause of all the\nensuing harm. For if he lies quiet he will quickly fill again, and new\nspirits will supply the vessels that are emptied.\n\nBut this is to be especially taken care of, that, the body being then\nin a ferment and disturbed, no cares of the soul, no business about\nnecessary affairs, no labor, should distract and seize it, lest they\nshould corrupt and sour its humors, Nature not having had time enough\nfor settling what has been disturbed. For, sir, all men have not the\ncommand of that happy ease and tranquillity which Epicurus's philosophy\nprocured him; for many great incumbrances seize almost upon every one\nevery day, or at least some disquiets; and it is not safe to trust the\nbody with any of these, when it is in such a condition and disturbance,\npresently after the fury and heat of the embrace is over. Let, according\nto his opinion, the happy and immortal deity sit at ease and never mind\nus; but if we regard the laws of our country, we must not dare to enter\ninto the temple and offer sacrifice, if but a little before we have done\nany such thing. It is fit therefore to let night and sleep intervene,\nand after there is a sufficient space of time past between, to rise\nas it were pure and new, and (as Democritus was wont to say) \"with new\nthoughts upon the new day.\"\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. WHY NEW WINE DOTH NOT INEBRIATE AS SOON AS OTHER.\n\nPLUTARCH, HIS FATHER, HAGIAS, ARISTAENETUS, AND OTHER YOUTH.\n\nAt Athens on the eleventh day of February (thence called [Greek omitted]\nTHE BARREL-OPENING), they began to taste their new wine; and in old\ntimes (as it appears), before they drank, they offered some to the gods,\nand prayed that that cordial liquor might prove good and wholesome. By\nus Thebans the month is named [Greek omitted], and it is our custom upon\nthe sixth day to sacrifice to our good Genius and then taste our new\nwine, after the zephyr has done blowing; for that wind makes wine\nferment more than any other, and the liquor that can bear this\nfermentation is of a strong body and will keep well. My father\noffered the usual sacrifice, and when after supper the young men, my\nfellow-students, commended the wine, he started this question: Why\ndoes not new wine inebriate as soon as other? This seemed a paradox and\nincredible to most of us; but Hagias said, that luscious things were\ncloying and would presently satiate, and therefore few could drink\nenough to make them drunk; for when once the thirst is allayed, the\nappetite would be quickly palled by that unpleasant liquor; for that a\nluscious is different from a sweet taste, even the poet intimates, when\nhe says,\n\n     With luscious wine, and with sweet milk and cheese.\n     (\"Odyssey, xx. 69.)\n\nWine at first is sweet; afterward, as it grows old, it ferments and\nbegins to be pricked a little; then it gets a sweet taste.\n\nAristaenetus the Nicaean said, that he remembered he had read somewhere\nthat sweet things mixed with wine make it less heady, and that some\nphysicians prescribe to one that hath drunk freely, before he goes to\nbed, a crust of bread dipped in honey. And therefore, if sweet mixtures\nweaken strong wine, it is reasonable that wine should not be heady till\nit hath lost its sweetness.\n\nWe admired the acuteness of the young philosophers, and were well\npleased to see them propose something out of the common road and give us\ntheir own sentiments on this matter. Now the common and obvious reason\nis the heaviness of new wine,--which (as Aristotle says) violently\npresseth the stomach,--or the abundance of airy and watery parts that\nlie in it; the former of which, as soon as they are pressed, fly out;\nand the watery parts are naturally fit to weaken the spirituous liquor.\nNow, when it grows old, the juice is improved, and though by the\nseparation of the watery parts it loses in quantity, it gets in\nstrength.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHY DO THOSE THAT ARE STARK DRUNK SEEM NOT SO MUCH\nDEBAUCHED AS THOSE THAT ARE BUT HALF FOXED?\n\nPLUTARCH, HIS FATHER.\n\nWell then, said my father, since we have fallen upon Aristotle, I will\nendeavor to propose something of my own concerning those that are\nhalf drunk; for, in my mind, though he was a very acute man, he is not\naccurate enough in such matters. They usually say, I think, that a sober\nman's understanding apprehends things right and judges well; the sense\nof one quite drunk is weak and enfeebled; but of him that is half drunk\nthe fancy is vigorous and the understanding weakened, and therefore,\nfollowing their own fancies, they judge, but judge ill. But pray, sirs,\nwhat is your opinion in these matters?\n\nThis reason, I replied, would satisfy me upon a private disquisition;\nbut if you will have my own sentiments, let us first consider, whether\nthis difference doth not proceed from the different temper of the body.\nFor of those that are only half drunk, the mind alone is disturbed, but\nthe body not being quite overwhelmed is yet able to obey its motions;\nbut when it is too much oppressed and the wine has overpowered it,\nit betrays and frustrates the motions of the mind, for men in such a\ncondition never go so far as action. But those that are half drunk,\nhaving a body serviceable to the absurd motions of the mind, are rather\nto be thought to have greater ability to comply with those they have,\nthan to have worse inclinations than the others. Now if, proceeding on\nanother principle, we consider the strength of the wine itself, nothing\nhinders but that this may be different and changeable, according to the\nquantity that is drunk. As fire, when moderate, hardens a piece of clay,\nbut if very strong, makes it brittle and crumble into pieces; and the\nheat of the spring fires our blood with fevers but as the summer comes\non, the disease usually abates; what hinders then but that the mind,\nbeing naturally raised by the power of the wine, when it is come to a\npitch, should by pouring on more be weakened again and its force abated?\nThus hellebore, before it purges, disturbs the body; but if too small a\ndose be given, disturbs only and purges not at all; and some taking too\nlittle of an opiate are more restless than before; and some taking too\nmuch sleep well. Besides, it is probable that this disturbance into\nwhich those that are half drunk are put, when it comes to a pitch, leads\nto that decay. For a great quantity being taken inflames the body and\nconsumes the frenzy of the mind; as a mournful song and melancholy\nmusic at a funeral raises grief at first and forces tears, but as it\ncontinues, by little and little it takes away all dismal apprehensions\nand consumes our sorrows. Thus wine, after it hath heated and disturbed,\ncalms the mind again and quiets the frenzy; and when men are dead drunk,\ntheir passions are at rest.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THE SAYING: DRINK EITHER FIVE OR\nTHREE, BUT NOT FOUR?\n\nARISTO, PLUTARCH, PLUTARCH'S FATHER.\n\nWhen I had said these things Aristo, as his habit was, cried out: A\nreturn has been decreed in banquets to a very popular and just standard,\nwhich, because it was driven away by unseasonable temperance as if\nby the act of a tyrant, has long remained in exile. For just as those\ntrained in the canons of the lyre declare the sesquialter proportion\nproduces the symphony diapente, the double proportion the diapason, the\nsesquiterte the diatessaron, the slowest of all, so the specialists\nin Bacchic harmonies have detected three accords between wine and\nwater--Diapente, Diatrion, Diatessaron. For so they speak and sing,\n\"drink five or three, but not four.\" For five have the sesquialter\nproportion, three cups of water being mixed in two of wine; three, the\ndouble proportion, two being mixed with one; four, the sesquiterce,\nthree cups of water to one of wine, which is the epitrite proportion\nfor those exercising their minds in the council-chamber or frowning over\ndialectics, when changes of speeches are expected,--a sober and mild\nmixture. But in regard to those proportions of two to one, that mixture\ngives the strength by which we are confused and made half drunk,\n\"Exciting the chords of the soul never moved before.\" For it does not\nadmit of sobriety, nor does it induce the senselessness of pure wine.\nThe most harmonious is the proportion of two to three, provoking sleep,\ngenerating the forgetfulness of cares, and like that cornfield of\nHesiod, \"which mildly pacifieth children and heals injuries.\" It\ncomposes in us the harsh and irregular motions of the soul and secures\ndeep peace for it. Against these sayings of Aristo no one had anything\nto offer in reply, since it was quite evident he was jesting. I\nsuggested to him to take a cup and treat it as a lyre, tuning it to the\nharmony and order he praised. At the same time a slave came offering him\npure wine. But he refused it, saying with a laugh that he was discussing\nlogical not organic music. To what had been said before my father added\nthat Jove seemed to have taken, according to the ancients, two\nnurses, Ite and Adrastea; Juno one, Euboea; Apollo also two, Truth and\nCorythalea; but Bacchus several, because he needed several measures of\nwater to make him manageable, trained, milder, and more prudent.\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHY FLESH STINKS SOONER WHEN EXPOSED TO THE MOON, THAN TO\nTHE SUN.\n\nEUTHYDEMUS, SATYRUS.\n\nEuthydemus of Sunium gave us at an entertainment a very large boar. The\nguests wondering at the bigness of the beast, he said that he had one\na great deal larger, but in the carriage the moon had made it stink; he\ncould not imagine how this should happen, for it was probable that the\nsun, being much hotter than the moon, should make it stink sooner.\nBut, said Satyrus, this is not so strange as the common practice of\nthe hunters; for, when they send a boar or a doe to a city some miles\ndistant, they drive a brazen nail into it to keep it from stinking.\n\nAfter supper Euthydemus bringing the question into play again, Moschio\nthe physician said, that putrefaction was a colliquation of the flesh,\nand that everything that putrefied grew moister than before, and that\nall heat, if gentle, did stir the humors, though not force them out, but\nif strong, dry the flesh; and that from these considerations an answer\nto the question might be easily deduced. For the moon gently warming\nmakes the body moist; but the sun by his violent beams dries rather, and\ndraws all moisture from them. Thus Archilochus spoke like a naturalist,\n\n     I hope hot Sirius's beams will many drain,\n\nAnd Homer more plainly concerning Hector, over whose body Apollo spread\na thick cloud,\n\n     Lest the hot sun should scorch his naked limbs.\n     (Iliad, xxiii, 190.)\n\nNow the moon's rays are weaker; for, as Ion says,\n\n     They do not ripen well the clustered grapes.\n\nWhen he had done, I said: The rest of the discourse I like very well,\nbut I cannot consent when you ascribe this effect to the strength and\ndegree of heat, and chiefly in the hot seasons; for in winter every one\nknows that the sun warms little, yet in summer it putrefies most. Now\nthe contrary should happen, if the gentleness of the heat were the cause\nof putrefaction. And besides, the hotter the season is, so much the\nsooner meat stinks; and therefore this effect is not to be ascribed to\nthe want of heat in the moon, but to some particular proper quality in\nher beams. For heat is not different only by degrees; but in fires there\nare some proper qualities very much unlike one another, as a thousand\nobvious instances will prove. Goldsmiths heat their gold in chaff fires;\nphysicians use fires of vine-twigs in their distillations; and tamarisk\nis the best fuel for a glass-house. Olive-boughs in a chimney warm very\nwell, but hurt other baths: they spoil the plastering, and weaken the\nfoundation; and therefore the most skilful of the public officers forbid\nthose that rent the baths to burn olive-tree wood, or throw darnel seed\ninto the fire, because the fumes of it dizzy and bring the headache to\nthose that bathe. Therefore it is no wonder that the moon differs in her\nqualities from the sun; and that the sun should shed some drying, and\nthe moon some dissolving, influence upon flesh. And upon this account it\nis that nurses are very cautious of exposing their infants to the beams\nof the moon; for they being full of moisture, as green plants, are\neasily wrested and distorted. And everybody knows that those that sleep\nabroad under the beams of the moon are not easily waked, but seem stupid\nand senseless; for the moisture that the moon sheds upon them oppresses\ntheir faculty and disables their bodies. Besides, it is commonly said,\nthat women brought to bed when the moon is a fortnight old, have easy\nlabors; and for this reason I believe that Diana, which was the same\nwith the moon, was called the goddess of childbirth. And Timotheus\nappositely says,\n\n     By the blue heaven that wheels the stars,\n     And by the moon that eases women's pains.\n\nEven in inanimate bodies the power of the moon is very evident. For\ntrees that are cut in the full of the moon carpenters refuse, as being\nsoft, and, by reason of their moistness, subject to corruption; and\nin its wane farmers usually thresh their wheat, that being dry it may\nbetter endure the flail; for the corn in the full of the moon is moist,\nand commonly bruised in threshing. Besides, they say dough will be\nleavened sooner in the full, for then, though the leaven is scarce\nproportioned to the meal, yet it rarefies and leavens the whole lump.\nNow when flesh putrefies, the combining spirit is only changed into a\nmoist consistence, and the parts of the body separate and dissolve. And\nthis is evident in the very air itself, for when the moon is full, most\ndew falls; and this Alcman the poet intimates, when he somewhere calls\ndew the air's and moon's daughter, saying,\n\n     See how the daughter of the Moon and Air\n     Does nourish all things.\n\nThus a thousand instances do prove that the light of the moon is moist,\nand carries with it a softening and corrupting quality. Now the brazen\nnail that is driven through the flesh, if, as they say, it keeps the\nflesh from putrefying, doth it by an astringent quality proper to the\nbrass. The rust of brass physicians use in astringent medicines, and\nthey say those that dig brass ore have been cured of a rheum in their\neyes, and that the hair upon their eyelids hath grown again; for the\nparticles rising from the ore, being insensibly applied to the eyes,\nstops the rheum and dries up the humor, and upon this account, perhaps;\nHomer calls brass [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted], and Aristotle\nsays, that wounds made by a brazen dart or a brazen sword are less\npainful and sooner cured than those that are made of iron weapons,\nbecause brass hath something medicinal in itself, which in the very\ninstant is applied to the wound. Now it is manifest that astringents\nare contrary to putrefying, and healing to corrupting qualities. Some\nperhaps may say, that the nail being driven through draws all the\nmoisture to itself, for the humor still flows to the part that is hurt;\nand therefore it is said that by the nail there always appears some\nspeck and tumor; and therefore it is rational that the other parts\nshould remain sound, when all the corruption gathers about that.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IV.\n\nPolybius, my Sossius Senecio, advised Scipio Africanus never to\nreturn from the Forum, where he was conversant about the affairs of\nthe city, before he had gained one new friend. Where I suppose the\nword friend is not to be taken too nicely, to signify a lasting and\nunchangeable acquaintance; but, as it vulgarly means, a well-wisher, and\nas Dicearchus takes it, when he says that we should endeavor to make\nall men well-wishers, but only good men friends. For friendship is to\nbe acquired by time and virtue; but good-will is produced by a familiar\nintercourse, or by mirth and trifling amongst civil and genteel\nmen, especially if opportunity assists their natural inclinations to\ngood-nature. But consider whether this advice may not be accommodated\nto an entertainment as well as the Forum; so that we should not break up\nthe meeting before we had gained one of the company to be a well-wisher\nand a friend. Other occasions draw men into the Forum, but men of sense\ncome to an entertainment as well to get new friends as to make their old\nones merry; indeed, to carry away anything else is sordid and uncivil,\nbut to depart with one friend more than we had is pleasing and\ncommendable. And so, on the contrary, he that doth not aim at this\nrenders the meeting useless and unpleasant to himself, and departs at\nlast, having been a partaker of an entertainment with his belly but not\nwith his mind. For he that makes one at a feast doth not come only to\nenjoy the meat and drink, but likewise the discourse, mirth, and genteel\nhumor which ends at last in friendship and good-will. The wrestlers,\nthat they may hold fast and lock better, use dust; and so wine mixed\nwith discourse is of extraordinary use to make us hold fast of, and\nfasten upon, a friend. For wine tempered with discourse carries gentle\nand kind affections out of the body into the mind; otherwise, it is\nscattered through the limbs, and serves only to swell and disturb. Thus\nas a marble, by cooling red hot iron, takes away its softness and makes\nit hard, fit to be wrought and receive impression; thus discourse at\nan entertainment doth not permit the men that are engaged to become\naltogether liquid by the wine, but confines and makes their jocund and\nobliging tempers very fit to receive an impression from the seal of\nfriendship if dexterously applied.\n\n\n\nQUESTION I. WHETHER DIFFERENT SORTS OF FOOD, OR ONE SINGLE DISH FED UPON\nAT ONCE, IS MORE EASILY DIGESTED.\n\nPHILO, PLUTARCH, MARCION.\n\nThe first question of my fourth decade of Table Discourses shall be\nconcerning different sorts of food eaten at one meal. When we came to\nHyampolis at the feast called Elaphebolia, Philo the physician gave us\na very sumptuous entertainment; and seeing a boy who came with Philinus\nfeeding upon dry bread and calling for nothing else, he cried out, O\nHercules, well I see the proverb is verified,\n\n     They fought midst stones, but could not take up one,\n\nand presently went out to fetch him some agreeable food. He stayed some\ntime, and at last brought them dried figs and cheese; upon which I\nsaid: It is usually seen that those that provide costly and superfluous\ndainties neglect, or are not well furnished with, useful and necessary\nthings. I protest, said Philo, I did not mind that Philinus designs to\nbreed us a young Sosastrus, who (they say) never all his lifetime drank\nor ate anything beside milk, although it is probable that it was some\nchange in his constitution that made him use this sort of diet; but our\nChiron here,--quite contrary to the old one that bred Achilles from his\nvery birth,--feeding his son with unbloody food, gives people reason\nto suspect that like a grasshopper he keeps him on dew and air. Indeed,\nsaid Philinus, I did not know that we were to meet with a supper of a\nhundred beasts, such as Aristomenes made for his friends; otherwise\nI had come with some poor and wholesome food about me, as a specific\nagainst such costly and unwholesome entertainments. For I have often\nheard that simple diet is not only more easily provided, but likewise\nmore easily digested, than such variety. At this Marcion said to Philo:\nPhilinus hath spoiled your whole provision by deterring guests from\neating; but, if you desire it, I will be surety for you, that such\nvariety is more easily digested than simple food, so that without fear\nor distrust they may feed heartily. Philo desired him to do so.\n\nWhen after supper we begged Philinus to discover what he had to urge\nagainst variety of food, he thus began: I am not the author of this\nopinion, but our friend Philo here is ever now and then telling us,\nfirst, that wild beasts, feeding on one sort only and simple diet, are\nmuch more healthy than men are; and that those which are kept in pens\nare much more subject to diseases and crudities, by reason of the\nprepared variety we usually give them. Secondly, no physician is so\ndaring, so venturous at new experiments, as to give a feverish patient\ndifferent sorts of food at once. No, simple food, and without sauce, as\nmore easy to be digested, is the only diet they allow. Now food must be\nwrought on and altered by our natural powers; in dyeing, cloth of the\nmost simple color takes the tincture soonest; the most inodorous oil is\nsoonest by perfumes changed into an essence; and simple diet is soonest\nchanged, and soonest yields to the digesting power. For many and\ndifferent qualities, having some contrariety, when they meet disagree\nand corrupt one another; as in a city, a mixed rout are not easily\nreduced into one body, nor brought to follow the same concerns; for each\nworks according to its own nature, and is very hardly brought to\nside with another's quality. Now this is evident in wine; mixed wine\ninebriates very soon, and drunkenness is much like a crudity rising\nfrom undigested wine; and therefore the drinkers hate mixed liquors, and\nthose that do mix them do it privately, as afraid to have their design\nupon the company discovered. Every change is disturbing and injurious,\nand therefore musicians are very careful how they strike many strings at\nonce; though the mixture and variety of the notes would be the only harm\nthat would follow. This I dare say, that belief and assent can be\nsooner procured by disagreeing arguments, than concoction by various and\ndifferent qualities. But lest I should seem jocose, waiving this, I will\nreturn to Philo's observations again. We have often heard him declare\nthat it is the quality that makes meat hard to be digested; that to mix\nmany things together is hurtful, and begets unnatural qualities; and\nthat every man should take that which by experience he finds most\nagreeable to his temper.\n\nNow if nothing is by its own nature hard to be digested, but it is\nthe quantity that disturbs and corrupts, I think we have still greater\nreason to forbear that variety with which Philo's cook, as it were in\nopposition to his master's practice, would draw us on to surfeits and\ndiseases. For by the different sorts of food and new ways of dressing,\nhe still keeps up the unwearied appetite, and leads it from one dish to\nanother, till tasting of everything we take more than is sufficient and\nenough; as Hypsipyle's foster-son,\n\n     Who, in a garden placed, plucked up the flowers,\n     One after one, and spent delightful hours;\n     But still his greedy appetite goes on,\n     And still he plucked till all the flowers were gone.\n     (From the \"Hypsipyle\" of Euripides, Frag. 754.)\n\nBut more, methinks, Socrates is here to be remembered, who adviseth us\nto forbear those junkets which provoke those that are not hungry to eat;\nas if by this he cautioned us to fly variety of meats. For it is variety\nthat in everything draws us on to use more than bare necessity requires.\nThis is manifest in all sorts of pleasures, either of the eye, ear, or\ntouch; for it still proposeth new provocatives; but in simple pleasures,\nand such as are confined to one sort, the temptation never carries us\nbeyond nature's wants. In short, in my opinion, we should more patie\nmusician praise a disagreeing variety of notes, or a perfumer mixed\nointments, than a physician commend the variety of dishes; for certainly\nsuch changes and turnings as must necessarily ensue will force us out of\nthe right way of health.\n\nPhilinus having ended his discourse, Marcion said: In my opinion, not\nonly those that separate profit from honesty are obnoxious to Socrates's\ncurse, but those also that separate pleasure from health, as if it were\nits enemy and opposite, and not its great friend and promoter. Pain we\nuse but seldom and unwillingly, as the most violent instrument. But from\nall things else, none, though he would willingly, can remove pleasure.\nIt still attends when we eat, sleep, bathe, or anoint, and takes care\nof and nurses the diseased; dissipating all that is hurtful and\ndisagreeable, by applying that which is proper, pleasing, and natural.\nFor what pain, what want, what poison so quickly and so easily cures a\ndisease as seasonable bathing? A glass of wine, when a man wants it,\nor a dish of palatable meat, presently frees us from all disturbing\nparticles, and settles nature in its proper state, there being as it\nwere a calm and serenity spread over the troubled humors. But those\nremedies that are painful do hardly and by little and little only\npromote the cure, every difficulty pushing on and forcing Nature. And\ntherefore let not Philinus blame us, if we do not make all the sail we\ncan to fly from pleasure, but more diligently endeavor to make pleasure\nand health, than other philosophers do to make pleasure and honesty,\nagree. Now, in my opinion, Philinus, you seem to be out in your first\nargument, where you suppose the beasts use more simple food and are\nmore healthy than men; neither of which is true. The first the goats in\nEupolis confute, for they extol their pasture as full of variety and all\nsorts of herbs, in this manner,\n\n     We feed almost on every kind of trees,\n     Young firs, the ilex, and the oak we crop:\n     Sweet trefoil fragrant juniper, and yew,\n     Wild olives, thyme,--all freely yield their store.\n\nThese that I have mentioned are very different in taste, smell, and\nother qualities, and he reckons more sorts which I have omitted. The\nsecond Homer skilfully refutes, when he tells us that the plague first\nbegan amongst the beasts. Besides, the shortness of their lives\nproves that they are very subject to diseases; for there is scarce any\nirrational creature long lived, besides the crow and the chough; and\nthose two every one knows do not confine themselves to simple food, but\neat anything. Besides, you take no good rule to judge what is easy and\nwhat is hard of digestion from the diet of those that are sick; for\nlabor and exercise, and even to chew our meat well, contribute very much\nto digestion, neither of which can agree with a man in a fever. Again,\nthat the variety of meats, by reason of the different qualities of the\nparticulars, should disagree and spoil one another, you have no reason\nto fear. For if Nature takes from dissimilar bodies what is fit and\nagreeable, the diverse nourishment forces many and sundry qualities into\nthe mass and bulk of the body, applying to every part that which is meet\nand fit; so that, as Empedocles words it,\n\n    The sweet runs to the sweet, the sour combines\n    With sour, the sharp with sharp, the salt with salt;\n\nand after being mixed it is spread through the mass by the heat, the\nproper parts are separated and applied to the proper members. Indeed,\nit is very probable that such bodies as ours, consisting of parts of\ndifferent natures, should be nourished and built up rather of various\nthan of simple matter. But if by concoction there is an alteration made\nin the food, this will be more easily performed when there are different\nsorts of meat, than when there is only one, in the stomach; for similars\ncannot work upon similars and the very contrariety in the mixture\nconsiderably promotes the alteration of the weakened qualities. But if,\nPhilinus, you are against all mixture, do not chide Philo only for the\nvariety of his dishes and sauces, but also for using mixture in his\nsovereign antidotes, which Erasistratus calls the gods' hands. Convince\nhim of absurdity and vanity, when he mixes herbs, metals, and animals,\nand things from sea and land, in one potion; and recommend him to\nneglect these, and to confine all physic to barley-broth, gourds, and\noil mixed with water. But you urge farther, that variety enticeth the\nappetite that hath no command over itself. That is, good sir, cleanly,\nwholesome, sweet, palatable, pleasing diet makes us eat and drink more\nthan ordinary. Why then, instead of fine flour, do not we thicken our\nbroth with coarse bran? And instead of asparagus, why do we not dress\nnettle-tops and thistles; and leaving this fragrant and pleasant wine,\ndrink sour, harsh liquor that gnats have been buzzing about a long\nwhile? Because, perhaps you may reply, wholesome feeding doth not\nconsist in a perfect avoiding of all that is pleasing, but in moderating\nthe appetite in that respect, and making it prefer profit before\npleasure. But, sir, as a mariner has a thousand ways to avoid a stiff\ngale of wind, but when it is clear down and a perfect calm, cannot raise\nit again; thus to correct and restrain our extravagant appetite is no\nhard matter, but when it grows weak and faint, when it fails as to its\nproper objects, then to raise it and make it vigorous and active again\nis, sir, a very difficult and hard task. And therefore variety of viands\nis as much better than simple food, which is apt to satisfy by being\nbut of one sort, as it is easier to stop Nature when she makes too much\nspeed than to force her on when languishing and faint. Besides, what\nsome say, that fullness is more to be avoided than emptiness, is not\ntrue; but, on the contrary, fullness then only hurts when it ends in a\nsurfeit or disease; but emptiness, though it doth no other mischief,\nis of itself unnatural. And let this suffice as an answer to what you\nproposed. But you sparing men have forgot, that variety is sweeter and\nmore desired by the appetite, unless too sweet. For, the sight preparing\nthe way, it is soon assimilated to the eager receiving body; but that\nwhich is not desirable Nature either throws off again, or keeps it in\nfor mere want. But pray observe this, that I do not plead for variety\nin tarts, cakes, or custards;--those are vain, insignificant, and\nsuperfluous things;--but even Plato allowed variety to those fine\ncitizens of his, setting before them onions, olives, leeks, cheese,\nand all sorts of meat and fish, and besides these, allowed them some\ncomfits.\n\n\n\nQUESTION II. WHY MUSHROOMS ARE THOUGHT TO BE PRODUCED BY THUNDER, AND\nWHY IT IS BELIEVED THAT MEN ASLEEP ARE NEVER THUNDERSTRUCK.\n\nAGEMACHUS, PLUTARCH, DOROTHEUS.\n\nAt a supper in Elis, Agemachus set before us very large mushrooms. And\nwhen all admired at them, one with a smile said, These are worthy\nthe late thunder, as it were deriding those who imagine mushrooms are\nproduced by thunder. Some said that thunder did split the earth, using\nthe air as a wedge for that purpose, and that by those chinks those that\nsought after mushrooms were directed where to find them; and thence it\ngrew a common opinion, that thunder engenders mushrooms, and not only\nmakes them a passage to appear; as if one should imagine that a shower\nof rain breeds snails, and not rather makes them creep forth and be seen\nabroad. Agemachus stood up stiffly for the received opinion, and told\nus, we should not disbelieve it only because it was strange, for there\nare a thousand other effects of thunder and lightning and a thousand\nomens deduced from them, whose causes it is very hard, if not\nimpossible, to discover; for this laughed-at, this proverbial mushroom\ndoth not escape the thunder because it is so little, but because it\nhath some antipathetical qualities that preserve it from blasting; as\nlikewise a fig-tree, the skin of a sea-calf (as they say), and that\nof the hyena, with which sailors cover the ends of their sails. And\nhusbandmen call thunder-showers nourishing, and think them to be so.\nIndeed, it is absurd to wonder at these things, when we see the most\nincredible things imaginable in thunder, as flame rising out of\nmoist vapors, and from soft clouds such astonishing noises. Thus, he\ncontinued, I prattle, exhorting you to inquire after the cause; and I\nshall accept this as your club for these mushrooms.\n\nThen I began: Agemachus himself helps us exceedingly towards this\ndiscovery; for nothing at the present seems more probable than that,\ntogether with the thunder, oftentimes generative waters fall, which take\nthat quality from the heat mixed with them. For the piercing pure parts\nof the fire break away in lightning; but the grosser windy part, being\nwrapped up in cloud, changes it, taking away the coldness and heating\nthe moisture, altering and being altered with it, affects it so that it\nis made fit to enter the pores of plants, and is easily assimilated to\nthem. Besides, such rain gives those things which it waters a peculiar\ntemperature and difference of juice. Thus dew makes the grass sweeter to\nthe sheep, and the clouds from which a rainbow is reflected make those\ntrees on which they fall fragrant. And our priests, distinguishing it by\nthis, call the wood of those trees Iris-struck, fancying that Iris, or\nthe rainbow, hath rested on them. Now it is probable that when these\nthunder and lightning showers with a great deal of warmth and spirit\ndescend forcibly into the caverns of the earth, these are rolled around,\nand knobs and tumors are formed like those produced by heat and noxious\nhumors in our bodies, which we call wens or kernels. For a mushroom is\nnot like a plant, neither is it produced without rain; it hath no root\nnor sprouts, it depends on nothing, but is a being by itself, having its\nsubstance of the earth, a little changed and altered. If this discourse\nseems frivolous, I assure you that such are most of the effects of\nthunder and lightning which we see; and upon that account men think\nthem to be immediately directed by Heaven, and not depending on natural\ncauses.\n\nDorotheus the rhetorician, one of our company, said: You speak right,\nsir, for not only the vulgar and illiterate, but even some of the\nphilosophers, have been of that opinion. I remember here in this town\nlightning broke into a house and did a great many strange things. It let\nthe wine out of a vessel, though the earthen vessel remained whole; and\nfalling upon a man asleep, it neither hurt him nor blasted his clothes,\nbut melted certain pieces of silver that he had in his pocket, defaced\nthem quite, and made them run into a lump. Upon this he went to a\nphilosopher, a Pythagorean, that sojourned in the town, and asked\nthe reason; the philosopher directed him to some expiating rites, and\nadvised him to consider seriously with himself and go to prayers. And\nI have been told, upon a sentinel at Rome, as he stood to guard the\ntemple, burned the latchet of his shoe, and did no other harm; and\nseveral silver candlesticks lying in wooden boxes, the silver was melted\nwhile the boxes lay untouched. These stories you may believe or not as\nyou please. But that which is most wonderful, and which everybody knows,\nis this,--the bodies of those that are killed by thunderbolt never\nputrefy. For many neither burn nor bury such bodies, but let them lie\nabove ground with a fence about them, so that every one may see the they\nremain uncorrupted, confuted by this Euripides's Clymene, who says thus\nof Phaeton,\n\n     My best beloved, but now he lies\n     And putrefies in some dark vale.\n\nAnd I believe brimstone is called [Greek omitted] (DIVINE), because its\nsmell is like that fiery offensive scent which rises from bodies that\nare thunderstruck. And I suppose that, because of this scent, dogs and\nbirds will not prey on such carcasses. Thus far have I gone; let him\nproceed, since he hath been applauded for his discourse of mushrooms,\nlest the same jest might be put upon us that was upon Androcydes the\npainter. For when in his landscape of Scylla he painted fish the best\nand most to the life of anything in the whole draught, he was said to\nuse his appetite more than his art, for he naturally loved fish. So\nsome may say that we philosophize about mushrooms, the cause of whose\nproduction is confessedly doubtful, for the pleasure we take in eating\nthem....\n\nAnd when I put in my suggestion, saying that it was as seasonable to\ndispute about thunder and lightning amidst our banquets as it would be\nin a comedy to bring in machines to throw out lightning, the company\nagreed to omit all other questions relating to the subject, and desired\nme only to proceed on this head, Why men asleep are never struck\nwith lightning. And I, though I knew I should get no great credit by\nproposing a cause whose reason was common to other things, said thus:\nLightning is wonderfully piercing and subtile, partly because it rises\nfrom a very pure substance, and partly because by the swiftness of its\nmotion it purges itself and throws off all gross earthy particles that\nare mixed with it. Nothing, says Democritus, is blasted with lightning,\nthat cannot resist and stop the motion of the pure flame. Thus the close\nbodies, as brass, silver, and the like, which stop it, feel its force\nand are melted, because they resist; whilst rare, thin bodies, and such\nas are full of pores, are passed through and are not hurted, as clothes\nor dry wood. It blasts green wood or grass, the moisture within them\nbeing seized and kindled by the flame. Now if it is true that men asleep\nare never killed by lightning, from what we have proposed, and not from\nanything else, we must endeavor to draw the cause. Now the bodies of\nthose that are awake are stiffer and more apt to resist, all the parts\nbeing full of spirits; which as it were in a harp, distending and\nscrewing up the organs of sense, makes the body of the animal firm,\nclose, and compacted. But when men are asleep, the organs are let down,\nand the body becomes rare, lax, and loose; and the spirits failing, it\nhath abundance of pores, through which small sounds and smells do flow\ninsensibly. For in that case, there is nothing that can resist and by\nthis resistance receive any sensible impression from any objects that\nare presented, much less from such as are so subtile and move so swiftly\nas lightning. Things that are weak Nature shields from harm, fencing\nthem about with some hard, thick covering; but those things that cannot\nbe resisted do less harm to the bodies that yield than to those that\noppose their force. Besides, those that are asleep are not startled at\nthe thunder; they have no consternation upon them, which kills a great\nmany that are no otherwise hurt, and we know that thousands die with\nthe very fear of being killed. Even shepherds teach their sheep to run\ntogether when it thunders, for whilst they lie scattered they die with\nfear; and we see thousands fall, which have no marks of any stroke or\nfire about them, their souls (as it seems), like birds, flying out of\ntheir bodies at the fright. For many, as Euripides says,\n\n     A clap hath killed, yet ne'er drew drop of blood.\n\nFor certainly the hearing is a sense that is soonest and most vigorously\nwrought upon, and the fear that is caused by an astonishing noise\nraiseth the greatest commotion and disturbance in the body; from all\nwhich men asleep, because insensible, are secure. But those that are\nawake are oftentimes killed with fear before they are touched; the fear\ncontracts and condenses the body, so that the stroke must be strong,\nbecause there is so considerable a resistance.\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. WHY MEN USUALLY INVITE MANY GUESTS TO A WEDDING SUPPER.\n\nSOSSIUS SENECIO, PLUTARCH, THEO.\n\nAt my son Autobulus's marriage, Sossius Senecio from Chaeronea and a\ngreat many other noble persons were present at the same feast; which\ngave occasion to this question (Senecio proposed it), why to a marriage\nfeast more guests are usually invited than to any other. Nay even those\nlaw-givers that chiefly opposed luxury and profuseness have particularly\nconfined marriage feasts to a set number. Indeed, in my opinion, he\ncontinued, Hecataeus the Abderite, one of the old philosophers, hath\nsaid nothing to the purpose in this matter, when he tells us that those\nthat marry wives invite a great many to the entertainment, that many may\nsee and be witnesses that they being born free take to themselves wives\nof the same condition. For, on the contrary, the comedians reflect on\nthose who revel at their marriages, who make a great ado and are pompous\nin their feasts, as such who are taking wives with not much confidence\nand courage. Thus, in Menander, one replies to a bridegroom that bade\nhim beset the house with dishes,...\n\n     Your words are great, but what's this to your bride?\n\nBut lest I should seem to find fault with those reasons others give,\nonly because I have none of my own to produce, continued he, I will\nbegin by declaring that there is no such evident or public notice given\nof any feast as there is of one at a marriage. For when we sacrifice to\nthe gods, when we take leave of or receive a friend, a great many of our\nacquaintance need not know it. But a marriage dinner is proclaimed by\nthe loud sound of the wedding song, by the torches and the music, which\nas Homer expresseth it,\n\n     The women stand before the doors to see and hear.\n     (Iliad, xviii. 495.)\n\nAnd therefore when everybody knows it, the persons are ashamed to omit\nthe formality of an invitation, and therefore entertain their friends\nand kindred, and every one that they are anyway acquainted with.\n\nThis being generally approved, Well, said Theo, speaking next, let it be\nso, for it looks like truth; but let this be added, if you please,\nthat such entertainments are not only friendly, but also kindredly, the\npersons beginning to have a new relation to another family. But there\nis something more considerable, and that is this; since by this marriage\ntwo families join in one, the man thinks it his duty to be civil\nand obliging to the woman's friends, and the woman's friends think\nthemselves obliged to return the same to him and his; and upon this\naccount the company is doubled. And besides, since most of the little\nceremonies belonging to the wedding are performed by women, it is\nnecessary that, where they are entertained, their husbands should be\nlikewise present.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHETHER THE SEA OR LAND AFFORDS BETTER FOOD.\n\nCALLISTRATUS, SYMMACHUS, POLYCRATES.\n\nAedepsus in Euboea, where the baths are, is a place by nature every\nway fitted for free and gentle pleasures, and withal so beautified with\nstately edifices and dining rooms, that one would take it for no other\nthan the common place of repast for all Greece. Here, though the earth\nand air yield plenty of creatures for the service of men, the sea no\nless furnisheth the table with variety of dishes, nourishing a store of\ndelicious fish in its deep and clear waters. This place is especially\nfrequented in the spring; for hither at this time of year abundance of\npeople resort, solacing themselves in the mutual enjoyment of all those\npleasures the place affords, and at spare hours pass away the time in\nmany useful and edifying discourses. When Callistratus the Sophist lived\nhere, it was a hard matter to dine at any place besides his house; for\nhe was so extremely courteous and obliging, that no man whom he invited\nto dinner could have the face to say him nay. One of his best humors was\nto pick up all the pleasant fellows he could meet with, and put them in\nthe same room. Sometimes he did, as Cimon one of the ancients used to\ndo, and satisfactorily treated men of all sorts and fashions. But he\nalways (so to speak) followed Celeus, who was the first man, it is said,\nthat assembled daily a number of honorable persons of distinction, and\ncalled the place where they met the Prytaneum.\n\nSeveral times at these public meetings divers agreeable discourses were\nraised; and it fell out that once a very splendid treat, adorned with\nall variety of dainties, gave occasion for inquiries concerning food,\nwhether the land or sea yielded better. Here when a great part of the\ncompany were highly commanding the land, as abounding with many choice,\nnay, an infinite variety of all sorts of creatures, Polycrates calling\nto Symmachus, said to him: But you, sir, being an animal bred between\ntwo seas, and brought up among so many which surround your sacred\nNicopolis, will not you stand up for Neptune? Yes, I will, replied\nSymmachus, and therefore command you to stand by me, who enjoy the\nmost pleasant part of all the Achaean Sea. Well, says Polycrates, the\nbeginning of my discourse shall be grounded upon custom; for as of a\ngreat number of poets we usually give one, who far excels the rest,\nthe famous name of poet; so though there be many sorts of dainties, yet\ncustom has so prevailed that the fish alone, or above all the rest, is\ncalled [Greek omitted], because it is more excellent than all others.\nFor we do not call those gluttonous and great eaters who love beef as\nHercules, who after flesh used to eat green figs; nor those that love\nfigs, as Plato; nor lastly, those that are for grapes, as Arcesilaus;\nbut those who frequent the fish-market, and soonest hear the\nmarket-bell. Thus when Demosthenes had told Philocrates that the gold\nhe got by treachery was spent upon whores and fish, he upbraids him as a\ngluttonous and lascivious fellow. And Ctesiphon said pat enough, when a\ncertain glutton cried aloud in company that he should burst asunder: No,\nby no means let us be baits for your fish! And what did he mean, do you\nthink, who made this verse,\n\n     You capers gnaw, when you may sturgeon eat?\n\nAnd what, for God's sake, do those men mean who, inviting one another to\nsumptuous collations, usually say: To-day we will dine upon the shore?\nIs it not that they suppose, what is certainly true, that a dinner upon\nthe shore is of all others most delicious? Not by reason of the waves\nthe sea-coast would be content to feed upon a pulse or a caper?--but\nbecause their table is furnished with plenty of fresh fish. Add to\nthis, that sea-food is dearer than any other. Wherefore Cato inveighing\nagainst the luxury of the city, did not exceed the bounds of truth, when\nhe said that at Rome a fish was sold for more than an ox. For they\nsell a small pot of fish for as much as a hecatomb of sheep and all the\naccessories of sacrifice. Besides, as the physician is the best judge\nof physic, and the musician of songs; so he is able to give the best\naccount of the goodness of meat who is the greatest lover of it. For I\nwill not make Pythagoras and Xenocrates arbitrators in this case; but\nAntagoras the poet, and Philoxenus the son of Eryxis, and Androcydes\nthe painter, of whom it was reported that, when he drew a landscape of\nScylla, he drew fish in a lively manner swimming round her, because he\nwas a great lover of them. So Antigonus the king, surprising Antagoras\nthe poet in the habit of a cook, broiling congers in his tent, said\nto him: Dost thou think that Homer was dressing congers when he writ\nAgamemnon's famous exploits? And he as smartly replied: Do you think\nthat Agamemnon did so many famous exploits when he was inquiring who\ndressed congers in the camp? These arguments, says Polycrates, I have\nurged in behalf of fishmongers, drawing them from testimony and custom.\n\nBut, says Symmachus, I will go more seriously to work, and more like a\nlogician. For if that may truly be said to be a relish which gives meat\nthe best relish, it will evidently follow, that that is the best sort\nof relish which gets men the best stomach to their meat. Therefore,\nas those philosophers who were called Elpistics (from the Greek word\nsignifying hope, which above all others they cried up) averred that\nthere was nothing in the world which concurred more to the preservation\nof life than hope, without whose gracious influence life would be a\nburden and altogether intolerable; in the like manner that of all other\nthings may be said to get us a stomach to our meat without which all\nmeat would be unpalatable and nauseous. And among all those things the\nearth yields, we find no such things as salt, which we can only have\nfrom the sea. First of all, without salt, there would be nothing eatable\nwhich mixed with flour seasons bread also. Neptune and Ceres had both\nthe same temple. Besides, salt is the most pleasant of all condiments.\nFor those heroes who like athletes used themselves to a spare diet,\nbanishing from their tables all vain and superfluous delicacies, to such\na degree that when they encamped by the Hellespont they abstained from\nfish, yet for all this could not eat flesh without salt; which is a\nsufficient evidence that salt is the most desirable of all relishes. For\nas colors need light, so tastes require salt, that they may affect the\nsense, unless you would have them very nauseous and unpleasant. For, as\nHeraclitus used to say, a carcass is more abominable than dung. Now all\nflesh is dead and part of a lifeless carcass; but the virtue of salt,\nbeing added to it, like a soul, gives it a pleasing relish and a\npoignancy. Hence it comes to pass that before meat men use to take sharp\nthings, and such as have much salt in them; for these beguile us into\nan appetite. And whoever has his stomach sharpened with these sets\ncheerfully and freshly upon all other sorts of meat. But if he begin\nwith any other kind of food, all on a sudden his stomach grows dull and\nlanguid. And therefore salt doth not only make meat but drink palatable.\nFor Homer's onion, which, he tells us, they were used to eat before they\ndrank, was fitter for seamen and boatmen than kings. Things moderately\nsalt, by being pleasing to the mouth, make all sorts of wine mild and\npalateable, and water itself of a pleasing taste. Besides, salt creates\nnone of those troubles which an onion does, but digests all other kinds\nof meat, making them tender and fitter for concoction; so that at the\nsame time it is sauce to the palate and physic to the body. But all\nother seafood, besides this pleasantness, is also very innocent for\nthough it be fleshly, yet it does not load the stomach as all other\nflesh does, but is easily concocted and digested. This Zeno will avouch\nfor me, and Crato too, who confine sick persons to a fish diet, as of\nall others the lightest sort of meat. And it stands with reason, that\nthe sea should produce the most nourishing and wholesome food, seeing it\nyields us the most refined, the purest and therefore the most agreeable\nair.\n\nYou say right, says Lamprias, but let us think of something else to\nconfirm what you have spoken. I remember my old grandfather was used to\nsay in derision of the Jews, that they abstained from most lawful flesh;\nbut we will say that that is the most lawful meat which comes from the\nsea. For we can claim no great right over land creatures, which are\nnourished with the same food, draw the same air, wash in and drink the\nsame water, that we do ourselves; and when they are slaughtered, they\nmake us ashamed of what we are doing, with their hideous cries; and then\nagain, by living amongst us, they arrive at some degree of familiarity\nand intimacy with us. But sea creatures are altogether strangers to us,\nand are born and brought up as it were in another world; neither does\ntheir voice, look, or any service they have done us plead for their\nlife. For this kind of creatures are of no use at all to us, nor is\nthere any necessity that we should love them. But that place which we\ninhabit is hell to them, and as soon as ever they enter upon it they\ndie.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. WHETHER THE JEWS ABSTAINED FROM SWINE'S FLESH BECAUSE THEY\nWORSHIPPED THAT CREATURE, OR BECAUSE THEY HAD AN ANTIPATHY AGAINST IT.\n\nCALLISTRATUS, POLYCRATES, LAMPRIAS.\n\nAfter these things were spoken, and some in the company were minded\nto say something in defence of the contrary opinion, Callistratus\ninterrupted their discourse and said: Sirs, what do you think of that\nwhich was spoken against the Jews, that they abstain from the most\nlawful flesh? Very well said, quoth Polycrates, for that is a thing I\nvery much question, whether it was that the Jews abstained from swine's\nflesh because they conferred divine honor upon that creature, or because\nthey had a natural aversion to it. For whatever we find in their own\nwritings seems to be altogether fabulous, except they have some more\nsolid reasons which they have no mind to discover.\n\nHence it is, says Callistratus, that I am of an opinion that this nation\nhas that creature in some veneration; and though it be granted that\nthe hog is an ugly and filthy creature, yet it is not quite so vile nor\nnaturally stupid as a beetle, griffin, crocodile, or cat, most of which\nare worshipped as the most sacred things by some priests amongst the\nEgyptians. But the reason why the hog is had in so much honor and\nveneration amongst them is, because as the report goes, that creature\nbreaking up the earth with its snout showed the way to tillage, and\ntaught them how to use the ploughshare, which instrument for that very\nreason, as some say, was called HYNIS from [Greek omitted], A SWINE.\nNow the Egyptians inhabiting a country situated low and whose soil is\nnaturally soft, have no need of the plough; but after the river Nile\nhath retired from the grounds it overflowed, they presently let in all\ntheir hogs into the fields, and they with their feet and snout break up\nthe ground, and cover the sown seed. Nor ought this to seem strange\nto anyone, that there are in the world those that abstain from swine's\nflesh on such an account as this; when it is evident that in barbarous\nnations there are other animals had in greater honor and veneration for\nlesser reasons, if not altogether ridiculous. For the field-mouse only\nfor its blindness was worshipped as a god among the Egyptians, because\nthey were of an opinion that darkness was before light and that the\nlatter had its birth from mice about the fifth generation at the new\nmoon; and moreover that the liver of this creature diminishes in the\nwane of the moon. But they consecrate the lion to the sun, because the\nlioness alone, of all clawed four-footed beasts, brings forth her young\nwith their eyesight; for they sleep in a moment, and when they are\nasleep their eyes sparkle. Besides, they place gaping lions' heads for\nthe spouts of their fountains, because Nilus overflows the Egyptian\nfields when the sign is Leo: they give it out that their bird ibis, as\nsoon as hatched, weighs two drachms, which are of the same weight with\nthe heart of a newborn infant; and that its legs being spread with the\nbill an exact equilateral triangle. And yet who can find fault with\nthe Egyptians for these trifles, when it is left upon record that the\nPythagoreans worshipped a white cock, and of sea creatures abstained\nespecially from mullet and urtic. The Magi that descended from Zoroaster\nadored the land hedgehog above other creatures but had a deadly spite\nagainst water-rats, and thought that man was dear in the eyes of the\ngods who destroyed most of them. But I should think that if the Jews had\nsuch an antipathy against a hog, they would kill it as the magicians\ndo mice; when, on the contrary, they are by their religion as much\nprohibited to kill as to eat it. And perhaps there may be some reason\ngiven for this; for as the ass is worshipped by them as the first\ndiscoverer of fountains, so perhaps the hog may be had in like\nveneration, which first taught them to sow and plough. Nay, some\nsay that the Jews also abstain from hares, as abominable and unclean\ncreatures.\n\nThey have reason for that, said Lamprias, because a hare is so like an\nass which they detest; for in its color, ears, and the sparkling of its\neyes, it is so like an ass, that I do not know any little creature that\nrepresents a great one so much as a hare doth an ass; except in this\nlikewise imitating the Egyptians, they suppose that there is something\nof divinity in the swiftness of this creature, as also in its quickness\nof sense; for the eyes of hares are so unwearied that they sleep with\nthem open. Besides, they seem to excel all other creatures in quickness\nof hearing; whence it was that the Egyptians painted a hare's ear\namongst their other hieroglyphics, as an emblem of hearing. But the Jews\ndo hate swine's flesh, because all the barbarians are naturally fearful\nof a scab and leprosy, which they presume comes by eating such kind of\nflesh. For we may observe that all pigs under the belly are overspread\nwith a leprosy and scab; which may be supposed to proceed from an ill\ndisposition of body and corruption within, which breaks out through the\nskin. Besides, swine's feeding is commonly so nasty and filthy, that\nit must of necessity cause corruptions and vicious humors; for, setting\naside those creatures that are bred from and live upon dung, there is no\nother creature that takes so much delight to wallow in the mire and\nin other unclean and stinking places. Hogs' eyes are said to be so\nflattened and fixed upon the ground, that they see nothing above them,\nnor ever look up to the sky, except when turned upon their back they\nturn their eyes upwards contrary to nature. Therefore this creature,\nat other times most clamorous' when laid upon his back, is still, as\nastonished at the unusual sight of the heavens; while the greatness of\nthe fear he is in (as it is supposed) is the cause of his silence. And\nif it be lawful to intermix our discourse with fables, it is said that\nAdonis was slain by a boar. Now Adonis is supposed to be the same with\nBacchus; and there are a great many rites in both their sacrifices which\nconfirm this opinion. Others will have Adonis to be Bacchus's paramour;\nand Phanocles an amorous love-poet writes thus,\n\n     Bacchus on hills the fair Adonis saw,\n     And ravished him, and reaped a wondrous joy.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. WHAT GOD IS WORSHIPPED BY THE JEWS.\n\nSYMMACHUS, LAMPRIAS, MOERAGENES.\n\n\nHere Symmachus, greatly wondering at what was spoken, says: What,\nLamprias, will you permit our tutelar god, called Evius, the inciter of\nwomen, famous for the honors he has conferred upon him by madmen, to\nbe inscribed and enrolled in the mysteries of the Jews? Or is there\nany solid reason that can be given to prove Adonis to be the same with\nBacchus? Here Moeragenes interposing, said: Do not be so fierce upon\nhim, for I who am an Athenian answer you, and tell you, in short, that\nthese two are the very same. And no man is able or fit to bring the\nchief confirmation of this truth, but those amongst us who are initiated\nand skilled in the triennial [Greek omitted] or chief mysteries of the\ngod. But what no religion forbids to speak of among friends, especially\nover wine, the gift of Bacchus, I am ready at the command of these\ngentlemen to disclose.\n\nWhen all the company requested and earnestly begged it of him; first\nof all (says he), the time and manner of the greatest and most holy\nsolemnity of the Jews is exactly agreeable to the holy rites of Bacchus;\nfor that which they call the Fast they celebrate in the midst of the\nvintage, furnishing their tables with all sorts of fruits while they sit\nunder tabernacles made of vines and ivy; and the day which immediately\ngoes before this they call the day of Tabernacles. Within a few days\nafter they celebrate another feast, not darkly but openly, dedicated\nto Bacchus, for they have a feast amongst them called Kradephoria, from\ncarrying palm-trees, and Thyrsophoria, when they enter into the temple\ncarrying thyrsi. What they do within I know not; but it is very probable\nthat they perform the rites of Bacchus. First they have little trumpets,\nsuch as the Grecians used to have at their Bacchanalia to call upon\ntheir gods withal. Others go before them playing upon harps, which they\ncall Levites, whether so named from Lusius or Evius,--either word agrees\nwith Bacchus. And I suppose that their Sabbaths have some relation to\nBacchus; for even now many call the Bacchi by the name of Sabbi, and\nthey make use of that word at the celebration of Bacchus's orgies. And\nthis may be discovered out of Demosthenes and Menander. Nor would it\nbe out of place, were any one to say that the name Sabbath was given to\nthis feast from the agitation and excitement [Greek omitted] which the\npriests of Bacchus display. The Jews themselves witness no less; for\nwhen they keep the Sabbath, they invite one another to drink till\nthey are drunk; or if they chance to be hindered by some more weighty\nbusiness, it is the fashion at least to taste the wine. Some perhaps may\nsurmise that these are mere conjectures. But there are other arguments\nwhich will clearly evince the truth of what I assert. The first may be\ndrawn from their High-priest, who on holidays enters their temple with\nhis mitre on, arrayed in a skin of a hind embroidered with gold, wearing\nbuskins, and a coat hanging down to his ankles; besides, he has a great\nmany little bells depending from his garment which make a noise as he\nwalks. So in the nocturnal ceremonies of Bacchus (as the fashion is\namongst us), they make use of music, and call the god's nurses [Greek\nomitted]. High up on the wall of their temple is a representation of the\nthyrsus and timbrels, which surely suits no other god than Bacchus. Mor\n ancients were wont to make themselves drunk, before the vine was known.\nAnd at this day barbarous people who want wine drink metheglin, allaying\nthe sweetness of the honey by bitter roots, much of the taste of our\nwine. The Greeks offered to their gods these temperate offerings or\nhoney-offerings, as they called them, because that honey was of a nature\nquite contrary to wine. But this is no inconsiderable argument that\nBacchus was worshipped by the Jews, in that, amongst other kinds of\npunishment, that was most remarkably odious by which malefactors were\nforbid the use of wine for so long a time as the judge thought fit to\nprescribe. Those thus punished....\n\n(The remainder of the Fourth Book is wanting.)\n\n\nQUESTION VII. WHY THE DAYS WHICH HAVE THE NAMES OF THE PLANETS ARE NOT\nARRANGED ACCORDING TO THE ORDER OF THE PLANETS, BUT THE CONTRARY. THERE\nIS ADDED A DISCOURSE ON THE POSITION OF THE SUN.\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHY SIGNET-RINGS ARE WORN CHIEFLY ON THE FOURTH FINGER.\n\n\nQUESTION IX. WHETHER WE OUGHT TO CARRY IN OUR SEAL-RINGS EFFIGIES OF\nGODS, OR THOSE OF WISE PERSONAGES.\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHY WOMEN DO NOT EAT THE MIDDLE PART OF LETTUCE.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK V.\n\nWhat is your opinion at present, Sossius Senecio, of the pleasures of\nmind and body, is not evident to me;\n\n     Because us two a thousand things divide,\n     Vast shady hills, and the rough ocean's tide.\n     (\"Iliad\" i. 156)\n\nBut formerly, I am sure, you did not lean to nor like their opinion,\nwho will not allow the soul to have any proper agreeable pleasure, which\nwithout respect to the body she desires for herself; but define that she\nlives as a form assistant to the body, is directed by the passions of\nit, and, as that is affected, is either pleased or grieved, or, like a\nlooking-glass, only receives the images of those sensible impressions\nmade upon the body. This sordid and debasing opinion is especially\nconfuted as follows; for at a feast, the genteel well-bred men after\nsupper fall upon some topic or another as second course, and cheer one\nanother by their pleasant talk. Now the body hath very little or no\nshare in this; which evidently proves that this is a particular\nbanquet for the soul, and that those pleasures are peculiar to her, and\ndifferent from those which pass to her through the body and are vitiated\nthereby. Now, as nurses, when they feed children, taste a little of\ntheir pap, and have but little pleasure therefrom, but when the infants\nare satisfied, leave crying, and go to sleep, then being at their own\ndisposal, they take such meat and drink as is agreeable to their own\nbodies; thus the soul partakes of the pleasures that arise from eating\nand drinking, like a nurse, being subservient to the appetites of the\nbody, kindly yielding to its necessities and wants, and calming its\ndesires; but when that is satisfied and at rest, then being free from\nher business and servile employment, she seeks her own proper pleasures,\nrevels on discourse, problems, stories, curious questions, or subtle\nresolutions. Nay, what shall a man say, when he sees the dull unlearned\nfellows after supper minding such pleasures as have not the least\nrelation to the body? They tell tales, propose riddles, or set one\nanother a-guessing at names, comprised and hid under such and such\nnumbers. Thus mimics, drolls, Menander and his actors were admitted into\nbanquets, not because they can free the eye from any pain, or raise\nany tickling motion in the flesh; but because the soul, being naturally\nphilosophical and a lover of instruction, covets its own proper pleasure\nand satisfaction, when it is free from the trouble of looking after the\nbody.\n\n\n\nQUESTION I. WHY WE TAKE DELIGHT IN HEARING THOSE THAT REPRESENT THE\nPASSIONS OF MEN ANGRY OR SORROWFUL, AND YET CANNOT WITHOUT CONCERN\nBEHOLD THOSE WHO ARE REALLY SO AFFECTED?\n\nPLUTARCH, BOETHUS.\n\nOf this we discoursed in your company at Athens, when Strato the\ncomedian (for he was a man of great credit) flourished. For being\nentertained at supper by Boethus the Epicurean, with a great many more\nof the sect, as it usually happens when learned and inquisitive men meet\ntogether, the remembrance of the comedy led us to this inquiry,--Why\nwe are disturbed at the real voices of men, either angry, pensive, or\nafraid, and yet are delighted to hear others represent them, and imitate\ntheir gestures, speeches, and exclamations. Every one in the company\ngave almost the same reason. For they said, he that only represents\nexcels him that really feels, inasmuch as he doth not suffer the\nmisfortunes; which we knowing are pleased and delighted on that account.\n\nBut I, though it was not properly my talent, said that we, being by\nnature rational and lovers of ingenuity, are delighted with and admire\neverything that is artificially and ingeniously contrived. For as a bee,\nnaturally loving sweet things, seeks after and flies to anything that\nhas any mixture of honey in it; so man, naturally loving ingenuity and\nelegancy, is very much inclined to accept and highly approve every word\nor action that is seasoned with wit and judgement. Thus, if any one\noffers a child a piece of bread, and at the same time, a little dog or\nox made in paste, we shall see the boy run eagerly to the latter; so\nlikewise if anyone, offers silver in the lump, and another a beast or\na cup of the same metal, he will rather choose that in which he sees a\nmixture of art and reason. Upon the same account it is that a child\nis much in love with riddles, and such fooleries as are difficult and\nintricate; for whatever is curious and subtle doth attract and allure\nmankind, as antecedently to all instruction agreeable and proper to it.\nAnd therefore, because he that is really affected with grief or anger\npresents us with nothing but the common bare passion, but in the\nimitation some dexterity and persuasiveness appears, we are naturally\ninclined to be disturbed at the former, whilst the latter delights us.\nIt is unpleasant to see a sick man, or one at his last gasp; yet with\ncontent we can look upon the picture of Philoctetes, or the statue\nof Jocasta, in whose face it is commonly said that the workmen mixed\nsilver, so that the brass might depict the face and color of one ready\nto faint and expire. And this, said I, the Cyrenaics may use as a strong\nargument against you Epicureans, that all the sense of pleasure which\narises from the working of any object on the ear or eye is not in those\norgans, but in the intellect itself. Thus the continual cackling of a\nhen or cawing of a crow is very ungrateful and disturbing; yet he\nthat imitates those noises well pleases the hearers. Thus to behold a\nconsumptive man is no delightful spectacle; yet with pleasure we\ncan view the pictures and statues of such persons, because the very\nimitating hath something in it very agreeable to the mind, which allures\nand captivates its faculties. For upon what other account, for God's\nsake, from what external impression upon our organs, should men be moved\nto admire Parmeno's sow so much as to pass it into a proverb? Yet it is\nreported, that Parmeno being very famous for imitating the grunting of\na pig, some endeavoured to rival and outdo him. And when the hearers,\nbeing prejudiced, cried out, Very well indeed, but nothing comparable to\nParmeno's sow; one took a pig under his arm and came upon the stage.\nAnd when, though they heard the very pig, they still continued, This is\nnothing comparable to Parmeno's sow; he threw his pig amongst them, to\nshow that they judged according to opinion and not truth. And hence it\nis very evident, that like motions of the sense do not always raise like\naffections in the mind, when there is not an opinion that the thing done\nwas not neatly and ingeniously performed.\n\n\n\nQUESTION II. THAT THE PRIZE FOR POETS AT THE GAMES WAS ANCIENT.\n\nAt the solemnity of the Pythian names, there was a consult about taking\naway all such sports as had lately crept in and were not of ancient\ninstitution. For after they had taken in the tragedy in addition to the\nthree ancient, which were as old as the solemnity itself, the Pythian\npiper, the harper, and the singer to the harp, as if a large gate were\nopened, they could not keep out an infinite crowd of plays and musical\nentertainments of all sorts that rushed in after him. Which indeed made\nno unpleasant variety, and increased the company, but yet impaired the\ngravity and neatness of the solemnity. Besides it must create a great\ndeal of trouble to the umpires, and considerable dissatisfaction to very\nmany, since but few could obtain the prize. It was chiefly agreed upon,\nthat the orators and poets should be removed; and this determination\ndid not proceed from any hatred to learning, but forasmuch as such\ncontenders are the most noted and worthiest men of all, therefore they\nreverence them, and were troubled that, when they must judge every one\nvery deserving, they could not bestow the prize equally upon all. I,\nbeing present at this consult, dissuaded those who were for removing\nthings from their present settled order, and who thought this variety\nas unsuitable to the solemnity as many strings and many notes to an\ninstrument. And when at supper, Petraeus the president and director\nof the sports entertaining us, the same subject was discoursed on, I\ndefended music, and maintained that poetry was no upstart intruder, but\nthat it was time out of mind admitted into the sacred games, and crowns\nwere given to the best performer. Some straight imagined that I intended\nto produce some old musty stories, like the funeral solemnities of\nOeolycus the Thessalian or of Amphidamas the Chalcidean, in which they\nsay Homer and Hesiod contended for the prize. But passing by these\ninstances as the common theme of every grammarian, as likewise their\ncriticisms who, in the description of Patroclus's obsequies in Homer,\nread [Greek omitted] ORATORS, and not [Greek omitted], DARTERS,\n(\"Iliad,\" xxiii, 886.) as if Achilles had proposed a prize for the best\nspeaker,--omitting all these, I said that Acastus at his father Pelias's\nfuneral set a prize for contending poets, and Sibylla won it. At this,\na great many demanding some authority for this unlikely and incredible\nrelation, I happily recollecting myself produced Acesander, who in his\ndescription of Africa hath this relation; but I must confess this is no\ncommon book. But Polemo the Athenian's \"Commentary of the Treasures of\nthe City Delphi\" I suppose most of you have diligently perused, he being\na very learned man in the Greek Antiquities. In him you shall find that\nin the Sicyonian treasure there was a golden book dedicated to the god,\nwith this inscription: Aristomache, the poetess of Erythraea, dedicated\nthis after she had got the prize at the Isthmian games. Nor is there any\nreason, I continued, why we should so admire and reverence the Olympic\ngames, as if, like Fate, they were unalterable, and never admitted any\nchange since the first institution. For the Pythian, it is true, hath\nhad three or four musical prizes added; but all the exercises of the\nbody were for the most part the same from the beginning. But in the\nOlympian all beside racing are late additions. They instituted some, and\nabolished them again; such were the races of mules, either rode or in a\nchariot as likewise the crown appointed for boys that were victor's in\nthe five contests. And, in short, a thousand things in those games are\nmere novelties. At Pisa they had a single combat, where he that yielded\nor was overcome was killed upon the place. But pray for the future\nrequire no author for my story, lest I may appear ridiculous if amidst\nmy cups I should forget the name.\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. WHY WAS THE PINE COUNTED SACRED TO NEPTUNE AND BACCHUS?\nAND WHY AT FIRST THE CONQUEROR IN THE ISTHMIAN GAMES WAS CROWNED WITH A\nGARLAND OF PINE, AFTERWARDS WITH PARSLEY, AND NOW AGAIN WITH PINE.\n\nLUCANIUS, PRAXITELES.\n\nThis question was started, why the Isthmian garland was made of pine. We\nwere then at supper in Corinth, in the time of the Isthmian games, with\nLucanius the chief priest. Praxiteles the commentator brought this fable\nfor a reason; it is said that the body of Melicertes was found fixed to\na pine-tree by the sea; and not far from Megara, there is a place called\nthe Race of a Fair Lady, through which the Megarians say that Ino, with\nher son Melicertes in her arms, ran to the sea. And when many put forth\nthe common opinion, that the pine-tree garland peculiarly belongs to\nNeptune, Lucanius added that it is sacred to Bacchus too, but yet, for\nall that, it might also be appropriated to the honor of Melicertes; this\nstarted the question, why the ancients dedicated the pine to Neptune and\nBacchus. As for my part, it did not seem incongruous to me, for both the\ngods seem to preside over the moist and generative principle; and almost\nall the Greeks sacrifice to Neptune the nourisher of plants, and to\nBacchus the preserver of trees. Besides, it may be said that the pine\npeculiarly agrees to Neptune, not, as Apollodorus thinks, because it\ngrows by the seaside, or because it loves a bleak place (for some give\nthis reason), but because it is used in building ships; for it together\nwith the like trees, as fir and cypress, affords the best and the\nlightest timber, and likewise pitch and rosin, without which the\ncompacted planks would be altogether unserviceable at sea. To Bacchus\nthey dedicate the pine, because it seasons wine, for among the pines\nthey say the sweetest and most delicious grapes grow. The cause of this\nTheophrastus thinks to be the heat of the soil; for pines grow most in\nchalky grounds. Now chalk is hot, and therefore must very much conduce\nto the concoction of the wine; as a chalky spring affords the lightest\nand sweetest water; and if chalk is mixed with corn, by its heat it\nmakes the grains swell, and considerably increases the heap. Besides,\nit is probable that the vine itself is bettered by the pine, for that\ncontains several things which are good to preserve wine. All cover the\ninsides of wine casks with rosin, and many mix rosin with wine, as the\nEuboeans in Greece, and in Italy those that live about the river Po.\nFrom the parts of Gaul about Vienna there is a sort of pitched wine\nbrought, which the Romans value very much; for such things mixed with\nit do not only give it a good flavor, but make the wine generous,\ntaking away by their gentle heat all the crude, watery, and undigested\nparticles. When I had said thus much, a rhetorician in the company, a\nman well read in all sorts of polite learning, cried out: Good Gods! was\nit not but the other day that the Isthmian garland began to be made of\npine? And was not the crown anciently of twined parsley? I am sure in a\ncertain comedy a covetous man is brought in speaking thus:--\n\n     The Isthmian garland I will sell as cheap\n     As common wreaths of parsley may be sold.\n\nAnd Timaeus the historian says that, when the Corinthians were marching\nto fight the Carthaginians in the defence of Sicily, some persons\ncarrying parsley met them, and when several looked upon this as a\nbad omen,--because parsley is accounted unlucky, and those that\nare dangerously sick we usually say have need of parsley,--Timoleon\nencouraged them by putting them in mind of the Isthmian parsley garland\nwith which the Corinthians used to crown the conquerors. And besides,\nthe admiral-ship of Antigonus's navy, having by chance some parsley\ngrowing on its poop, was called Isthmia. Besides, a certain obscure\nepigram upon an earthen vessel stopped with parsley intimates the same\nthing. It runs thus:--\n\n     The Grecian earth, now hardened by the flame,\n     Holds in its hollow belly Bacchus blood;\n     And hath its mouth with Isthmian branches stopped.\n\nSure, he continued, they never read these authors, who cry up the pine\nas anciently wreathed in the Isthmian garlands, and would not have it\nsome upstart intruder. The young men yielded presently to him, as being\na man of various reading and very learned.\n\nBut Lucanius, with a smile looking upon me, cried out: Good God! here's\na deal of learning. But others have taken advantage of our ignorance and\nunacquaintedness with such matters, and, on the contrary, persuaded us\nthat the pine was the first garland, and that afterwards in honor of\nHercules the parsley was received from the Nemean games, which in a\nlittle time prevailing, thrust out the pine, as if it were its right to\nbe the wreath; but a little while after the pine recovered its ancient\nhonor, and now flourishes in its glory. I was satisfied, and upon\nconsideration found that I had run across a great many authorities for\nit. Thus Euphorion writes of Melicertes,\n\n     They mourned the youth, and him on pine boughs laid\n     Of which the Isthmian victors' crowns are made.\n     Fate had not yet seized beauteous Mene's son\n     By smooth Asopus; since whose fall the crown\n     Of parsley wreathed did grace the victor's brow.\n\nAnd Callimachus is plainer and more express, when he makes Hercules\nspeak thus of parsley,\n\n                  This at Isthmian sports\n     To Neptune's glory now shall be the crown;\n     The pine shall be disused, which heretofore\n     In Corinth's fields successful victors wore.\n\nAnd besides, if I am not mistaken, in Procles's history of the Isthmian\ngames I met with this passage; at first a pine garland crowned the\nconqueror, but when this game began to be reckoned amongst the sacred,\nthen from the Nemean solemnity the parsley was received. And this\nProcles was one of Xenocrates's fellow-students at the Academy.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. CONCERNING THAT EXPRESSION IN HOMER, [GREEK OMITTED]\n(\"Iliad,\" ix. 203.)\n\nNICERATUS, SOSICLES, ANTIPATER, PLUTARCH.\n\nSome at the table were of opinion that Achilles talked nonsense when he\nbade Patroclus \"mix the wine stronger,\" adding this reason,\n\n     For now I entertain my dearest friends.\n\nBut Niceratus a Macedonian, my particular acquaintance, maintained that\n[Greek omitted] did not signify pure but hot wine; as if it were derived\nfrom [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted] (LIFE-GIVING AND BOILING), and\nit were requisite at the coming of his friends to temper a fresh bowl,\nas every one of us in his offering at the altar pours out fresh wine.\nBut Sosicles the poet, remembering a saying of Empedocles, that in the\ngreat universal change those things which before were [Greek omitted],\nUNMIXED, should then be [Greek omitted], affirmed that [Greek omitted]\nthere signified [Greek omitted], WELL-TEMPERED, and that Achilles might\nwith a great deal of reason bid Patroclus provide well-tempered wine\nfor the entertainment of his friends; and it was absurd (he said) to use\n[Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted] any more than [Greek omitted]\nfor [Greek omitted], or [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], for\nthe comparatives are very properly put for the positives. My friend\nAntipater said that years were anciently called [Greek omitted], and\nthat the particle [Greek omitted] in composition signified greatness;\nand therefore old wine, that had been kept for many years, was called by\nAchilles [Greek omitted].\n\nI put them in mind that some imagine that [Greek omitted], hot, is\nsignified by [Greek omitted], and that hotter means really faster, as\nwhen we command servants to move themselves more hotly or in hotter\nhaste. But I must confess, your dispute is frivolous, since it is raised\nupon this supposition that if [Greek omitted], signifies more pure wine,\nAchilles's command would be absurd, as Zoilus of Amphipolis imagined.\nFor first he did not consider that Achilles saw Phoenix and Ulysses to\nbe old men, who are not pleased with diluted wine, and upon that account\nforbade any mixture. Besides, he having been Chiron's scholar, and from\nhim having learned the rules of diet, he considered that weaker and more\ndiluted liquors were fittest for those bodies that lay at ease, and were\nnot employed in their customary exercise or labor. Thus with the other\nprovender he gave his horses smallage, and this upon very good reason;\nfor horses that lie still grow sore in their feet, and smallage is the\nbest remedy in the world against that. And you will not find smallage\nor anything of the same nature given to any other horses in the whole\n\"Iliad.\" Thus Achilles, being experienced in physic, provided suitable\nprovender for his horses, and used the lightest diet himself, as the\nfittest whilst he lay at ease. But those that had been wearied all day\nin fight he did not think convenient to treat like those that had lain\nat ease, but commanded more pure and stronger wine to be prepared.\nBesides, Achilles doth not appear to be naturally addicted to drinking,\nbut he was of a haughty, inexorable temper.\n\n     No pleasant humor, no, soft mind he bore,\n     But was all fire and rage.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xx. 467.)\n\nAnd in another place very plainly Homer says, that\n\n     Many a sleepless night he knew.\n     (\"Iliad,\" ix. 325.)\n\nNow little sleep cannot content those that drink strong liquors; and in\nhis railing at Agamemnon, the first ill name he gives him is drunkard,\nproposing his great drinking as the chiefest of his faults. And for\nthese reasons it is likely that, when they came, he thought his usual\nmixture too weak and not convenient for them.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. CONCERNING THOSE THAT INVITE MANY TO A SUPPER.\n\nPLUTARCH, ONESICRATES, LAMPRIAS THE ELDER.\n\nAt my return from Alexandria all my friends by turns treated me,\ninviting all such too as were any way acquainted, so that our meetings\nwere usually tumultuous and suddenly dissolved; which disorders gave\noccasion to discourses concerning the inconveniences that attend such\ncrowded entertainments. But when Onesicrates the physician in his\nturn invited only the most familiar acquaintance, and men of the most\nagreeable temper, I thought that what Plato says concerning the increase\nof cities might be applied to entertainments. For there is a\ncertain number which an entertainment may receive, and still be an\nentertainment; but if it exceeds that, so that by reason of the number\nthere cannot be a mutual conversation amongst all, if they cannot know\none another nor partake of the same jollity, it ceaseth to be such. For\nwe should not want messengers there, as in a camp, or boatswains, as in\na galley; but we ourselves should immediately converse with one another.\nAs in a dance, so in an entertainment, the last man should be placed\nwithin hearing of the first.\n\nAs I was speaking, my grandfather Lamprias cried out: Then it seems\nthere is need of temperance not only in our feasts, but also in our\ninvitations. For methinks there is even an excess in kindness, when we\npass by none of our friends, but draw them all in, as to see a sight\nor hear a play. And I think, it is not so great a disgrace for the\nentertainer not to have bread or wine enough for his, guests, as not to\nhave room enough, with which he ought always to be provided, not only\nfor invited guests, strangers and chance visitants. For suppose he hath\nnot wine and bread enough, it may be imputed either to the carelessness\nor dishonesty of his servants; but the want of room must be imputed to\nthe imprudence of the inviter. Hesiod is very much admired for beginning\nthus,\n\n     A vast chaos first was made.\n     (Hesiod, \"Theogony,\" 116.)\n\nFor it was necessary that there should be first a place and room\nprovided for the beings that were afterward to be produced; and not as\nwas seen yesterday at my son's entertainment, according to Anaxagoras's\nsaying,\n\n     All lay jumbled together.\n\nBut suppose a man hath room and provision enough, yet a large company\nitself is to be avoided for its own sake, as hindering all familiarity\nand conversation; and it is more tolerable to let the company have\nno wine, than to exclude all converse from a feast. And therefore\nTheophrastus jocularly called the barbers' shops feasts without wine;\nbecause those that sit there usually prattle and discourse. But those\nthat invite a crowd at once deprive all of free communication of\ndiscourse, or rather make them divide into cabals, so that two or three\nprivately talk together, and neither know nor look on those that sit, as\nit were, half a mile distant.\n\n     Some took this way to valiant Ajax's tent,\n     And some the other to Achilles' went.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xi. 7.)\n\nAnd therefore some rich men are foolishly profuse, who build rooms\nbig enough for thirty tables or more at once; for such a preparation\ncertainly is for unsociable and unfriendly entertainments, and such as\nare fit for a panegyriarch rather than a symposiarch to preside over.\nBut this may be pardoned in those; for wealth would not he wealth,\nit would be really blind and imprisoned, unless it had witnesses, as\ntragedies would be devoid of spectators. Let us entertain few and often,\nand make that a remedy against having a crowd at once. For those that\ninvite but seldom are forced to have all their friends, and all that\nupon any account they are acquainted with together; but those that\ninvite frequently, and but three or four, render their entertainments\nlike little barks, light and nimble. Besides, the very reason why we ask\nfriends teaches us to select some out of the number. For as when we\nare in want we do not call all together, but only those that can best\nafford, help in that particular case,--when we would be advised, the\nwiser part; and when we are to have a trial, the best pleaders; and\nwhen we are to go a journey, those that can live pleasantly and are at\nleisure,--thus to our entertainments we should only call those that\nare at the present agreeable. Agreeable, for instance, to a prince's\nentertainment will be the magistrates, if they are his friends, or\nchiefest of the city; to marriage or birthday feasts, all their kindred,\nand such as are under the protection of the same Jupiter the guardian of\nconsanguinity; and to such feasts and merry-makings as this those are\nto be invited whose tempers are most suitable to the occasion. When we\noffer sacrifice to one god, we do not worship all the others that belong\nto the same temple and altar at the same time; but suppose we have three\nbowls, out of the first we pour oblations to some, out of the second\nto others and out of the third to the rest, and none of the gods take\ndistaste. And in this a company of friends may be likened to the company\nof gods; none takes distaste at the order of the invitation, if it be\nprudently managed and every one allowed a turn.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT THE SAME ROOM WHICH AT THE\nBEGINNING OF A SUPPER SEEMS TOO NARROW APPEARS WIDE ENOUGH AFTERWARDS.\n\nAfter this it was presently asked, why the room which at the beginning\nof supper seems too narrow for the guest is afterwards wide enough; when\nthe contrary is most likely, after they are filled with the supper. Some\nsaid the posture of our sitting was the cause; for they sit when they\neat, with their full breadth to the table, that they may command it with\ntheir right hand; but after they have supped, they sit more sideways,\nand make an acute figure with their bodies, and do not touch the place\naccording to the superficies, if I may so say, but the line. Now as\ncockal bones do not take up as much room when they fall upon one end\nas when they fall flat, so every one of us at the beginning sitting\nbroadwise, and with a full face to the table, afterwards changes\nthe figure, and turns his depth, not his breadth, to the board. Some\nattribute it to the beds whereon we sat, for those when pressed stretch;\nas strait shoes after a little wearing have their pores widened, and\ngrow fit for--sometimes too big for--the foot. An old man in the company\nmerrily said, that the same feast had two very different presidents and\ndirectors; in the beginning, Hunger, that is not in the least skilled in\nordering and disposing, but afterward Bacchus, whom all acknowledge to\nbe the best orderer of an army in the world. As therefore Epaminondas,\nwhen the unskilful captains had led their forces into narrow\ndisadvantageous straits, relieved the phalanx that was fallen foul\non itself and all in disorder, and brought it into good rank and file\nagain; thus we in the beginning, being like greedy hounds confused\nand disordered by hunger, the god (hence named the looser and the\ndancesetter) settles us in a friendly and agreeable order.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. CONCERNING THOSE THAT ARE SAID TO BEWITCH.\n\nMETRIUS FLORUS, PLUTARCH, SOCLARUS, PATROCLES, CAIUS.\n\nA discourse happening at supper concerning those that are said to\nbewitch or have a bewitching eye, most of the company looked upon it\nas a whim, and laughed at it. But Metrius Florus, who then gave us a\nsupper, said that the strange events wonderfully confirmed the report;\nand because we cannot give a reason for the thing, therefore to\ndisbelieve the relation was absurd, since there are a thousand things\nwhich evidently are, the reasons of which we cannot readily assign. And,\nin short, he that requires everything should be probable destroys all\nwonder and admiration; and where the cause is not obvious, there we\nbegin to doubt, that is, to philosophize. So that they who disbelieve\nall wonderful relations do in some measure take away all philosophy. The\ncause why anything is so, reason must find out; but that a thing is so,\ntestimony is a sufficient evidence; and we have a thousand instances of\nthis sort attested. We know that some men by looking upon young children\nhurt them very much, their weak and soft temperature being wrought upon\nand perverted, whilst those that are strong and firm are not so liable\nto be wrought upon. And Phylarchus tells us that the Thibians, the old\ninhabitants about Pontus, were destructive not only to little children,\nbut to some also of riper years; for those upon whom they looked or\nbreathed, or to whom they spake, would languish and grow sick. And this,\nlikely, those of other countries perceived who bought slaves there.\nBut perhaps this is not so much to be wondered at, for in touching and\nhandling there is some apparent principle and cause of the effect. And\nas when you mix other birds' wings with the eagles', the plumes waste\nand suddenly consume; so there is no reason to the contrary, but that\none man's touch may be good and advantageous, and another's hurtful and\ndestructive. But that some, by being barely looked upon, are extremely\nprejudiced is certain; though the stories are disbelieved, because the\nreason is hard to be given.\n\nTrue, said I, but methinks there is some small track to the cause of\nthis effect, if you come to the effluvia of bodies. For smell, voice,\nbreath, and the like, are effluvia from animal bodies, and material\nparts that move the senses, which are wrought upon by their impulse. Now\nit is very likely that such effluvia must continually part from\nanimals, by reason of their heat and motion; for by that the spirits\nare agitated, and the body, being struck by those, must continually send\nforth effluvia. And it is probable that these pass chiefly through the\neye. For the sight, being very vigorous and active, together with the\nspirit upon which it depends, sends forth a strange fiery power; so\nthat by it men act and suffer very much, and are always proportionably\npleased or displeased, according as the visible objects are agreeable or\nnot. Love, that greatest and most violent passion of the soul, takes its\nbeginning from the eye; so that a lover, when he looks upon the fair,\nflows out as it were, and seems to mix with her. And therefore why\nshould any one, that believes men can be affected and prejudiced by the\nsight, imagine that they cannot act and hurt is well? For the mutual\nlooks of mature beauties, and that which comes from the eye, whether\nlight or a stream of spirits, melt and dissolve the lovers with a\npleasing pain, which they call the bittersweet of love. For neither by\ntouching or hearing the voice of their beloved are they so much wounded\nand wrought upon, as by looking and being looked upon again. There is\nsuch a communication, such a flame raised by one glance, that those must\nbe altogether unacquainted with love that wonder at the Median naphtha,\nthat takes fire at a distance from the flame. For the glances of a fair\none, though at a great distance, quickly kindle a fire in the lover's\nbreast. Besides every body knows the remedy for the jaundice; if they\nlook upon the bird called charadrios they are cured. For that animal\nseems to be of that temperature and nature as to receive and draw away\nthe disease, that like a stream flows out through the eyes; so that the\ncharadrios will not look on one that hath the jaundice; he cannot endure\nit, but turns away his head and shuts his eyes, not envying (as some\nimagine) the cure he performs, but being really hurt by the effluvia\nof the patient. And of all diseases, soreness of the eyes is the most\ninfectious; so strong and vigorous is the sight, and so easily does it\ncause infirmities in another.\n\nVery right, said Patrocles, and you reason well as to changes wrought\nupon the body; but as to the soul, which in some measure exercises the\npower of witchcraft, how can this cause any disturbance by the eye? Sir,\nI replied, do not you consider that the soul, when affected, works upon\nthe body? Ideas of love excite lust, and rage often blinds dogs as\nthey fight with wild beasts. Sorrow, covetousness, or jealousy makes us\nchange color, and destroys the habit of the body; and envy more than any\npassion, when fixed in the soul, fills the body full of ill humors,\nand makes it pale and ugly; which deformities good painters in their\npictures of envy endeavor to represent. Now, when men thus perverted by\nenvy fix their eyes upon another, and these, being nearest to the soul,\neasily draw the venom from it, and send out as it were poisoned darts,\nit is no wonder, in my mind, if he that is looked upon is hurt. Thus the\nbiting of a dog when mad is most dangerous; and then the seed of a man\nis most prolific, when he embraces one that he loves; and in general the\naffections of the mind strengthen and invigorate the powers of the body.\nAnd therefore people imagine that those amulets that are preservative\nagainst witchcraft are likewise good and efficacious against envy; the\nsight by the strangeness of the spectacle being diverted, so that it\ncannot make so strong an impression upon the patient. This, Florus,\nis what I can say; and pray sir, accept it as my club for this\nentertainment.\n\nWell, said Soclarus, but let us try whether the money be all good or\nno; for, in my mind some of it seems brass. But if we admit the general\nreport about these matters to be true, you know very well that it\nis commonly supposed that some have friends, acquaintance, and even\nfathers, that have such evil eyes; so that the mothers will not show\ntheir children to them, nor for a long time suffer them to be looked\nupon by such; and how can the effects wrought by these proceed from\nenvy? But what, for God's sake, wilt thou say to those that are reported\nto bewitch themselves?--for I am sure you have heard of such, or at\nleast read these lines:--\n\n     Curls once on Eutel's head in order stood;\n     But when he viewed his figure in a flood,\n     He overlooked himself, and now they fall...\n\nFor they say that this Eutelidas, appearing very delicate and beauteous\nto himself, was affected with that sight and grew sick upon it, and lost\nhis beauty and his health. Now, pray sir, what reason can you find for\nthese wonderful effects?\n\nAt any other time, I replied, I question not but I shall give you full\nsatisfaction. But now, sir, after such a large pot as you have seen me\ntake, I boldly affirm, that all passions which have been fixed in the\nsoul a long time raise ill humors in the body, which by continuance\ngrowing strong enough to be, as it were, a new nature, being excited\nby any intervening accident, force men, though unwilling, to their\naccustomed passions. Consider the timorous, they are afraid even of\nthose things that preserve them. Consider the pettish, they are\nangry with their best and dearest friends. Consider the amorous and\nlascivious, in the height of their fury they dare violate a Vestal. For\ncustom is very powerful to draw the temper of the body to anything that\nis suitable to it; and he that is apt to fall will stumble at everything\nthat lies in his way. So it is no wonder that those that have raised\nin themselves an envious and bewitching habit, if according to the\npeculiarity of their passion they are carried on to suitable effects;\nfor when they are once moved, they do that which the nature of the\nthing, not which their will, leads them to. For as a sphere must\nnecessarily move spherically, and a cylinder cylindrically, according to\nthe difference of their figures; thus his disposition makes an envious\nman move enviously to all things; and it is likely they should chiefly\nhurt their most familiar acquaintance and best beloved. And that fine\nfellow Eutelidas you mentioned, and the rest that are said to overlook\nthemselves, may be easily and upon good rational grounds accounted for;\nfor, according to Hippocrates, a good habit of body, when at height, is\neasily perverted, and bodies come to their full maturity do not stand\nat a stay there, but fall and waste down to the contrary extreme. And\ntherefore when they are in very good plight, and see themselves look\nmuch better than they expected, they gaze and wonder; but then their\nbody being nigh to change, and their habit declining into a worse\ncondition, they overlook themselves. And this is done when the effluvia\nare stopped and reflected by the water rather than by any other\nreflecting body; for this exhales upon them whilst they look upon it,\nso that the very same particles which would hurt others must hurt\nthemselves. And this perchance often happens to young children, and the\ncause of their diseases is falsely attributed to those that look upon\nthem.\n\nWhen I had done, Caius, Florus's son-in-law, said: Then it seems you\nmake no more reckoning or account of Democritus's images, than of those\nof Aegium or Megara; for he delivers that the envious send out images\nwhich are not altogether void of sense or force, but full of the\ndisturbing and poisonous qualities of those from whom they come. Now\nthese being mixed with such qualities, and remaining with and abiding in\nthose persons that injure them both in mind and body; for this, I think,\nis the meaning of that philosopher, a man in his opinion and expressions\nadmirable and divine. Very true, said I, and I wonder that you did not\nobserve that I took nothing from those effluvia and images but life and\nwill; lest you should imagine that, now it is almost midnight, I brought\nin spectres and wise and understanding images to terrify and fright you;\nbut in the morning, if you please, we will talk of those things.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHY HOMER CALLS THE APPLE-TREE [GREEK OMITTED], AND\nEMPEDOCLES CALLS APPLES [GREEK OMITTED].\n\nPLUTARCH, TRYPHO, CERTAIN GRAMMARIANS, LAMPRIAS THE ELDER.\n\nAs we were at supper in Chaeronea, and had all sorts of fruit at the\ntable, one of the company chanced to speak these verses,\n\n     The fig-trees sweet, the apple-trees that bear\n     Fair fruit, and olives green through all the year.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" vii. 115.)\n\nUpon this there arose a question, why the poet calls apple-trees\nparticularly [Greek omitted], BEARING FAIR FRUIT. Trypho the physician\nsaid that this epithet was given comparatively in respect of the tree,\nbecause, it being small and no goodly tree to look upon, bears fair\nand large fruit. Somebody else said, that the particular excellencies\nscattered amongst all other fruits are united in this alone. As to\nthe touch, it is smooth and polished, so that it makes the hand that\ntoucheth it odorous without defiling it; it is sweet to the taste, and\nto the smell and sight very pleasing; and therefore there is reason that\nit should be duly praised, as being that which congregates and allures\nall the senses together.\n\nThis discourse pleased us indifferently well. But whereas Empedocles has\nthus written,\n\n     Why pomegranates so late do thrive,\n     And apples give a lovely show [Greek omitted];\n\nI guess the epithet to be given to pomegranates, because that at the end\nof autumn, and when the heats begin to decrease, they ripen the fruit;\nfor the sun will not suffer the weak and thin moisture to thicken into\na consistence until the air begins to wax colder; therefore, says\nTheophrastus, this only tree ripens its fruit best and soonest in\nthe shade. But in what sense the philosopher gives the epithet [Greek\nomitted], to apples, I much question, since it is not his custom to try\nto adorn his verses with varieties of epithets, as with gay and florid\ncolors. But in every verse he gives some description of the substance\nand virtue of the subject which he treats; as when he calls the body\nencircling the soul the mortal-surrounding earth; as also when he calls\nthe air cloud-gathering, and the liver much blooded.\n\nWhen now I had said these things myself, certain grammarians affirmed,\nthat those apples were called [Greek omitted] by reason of their vigor\nand florid manner of growing; for to blossom and flourish after an\nextraordinary manner is by the poets expressed by the word [Greek\nomitted]. In this sense, Antimachus calls the city of Cadmeans\nflourishing with fruit; and Aratus, speaking of the dog-star Sirius,\nsays that he\n\n     To some gave strength, but others did ruin,\n     Their bloom;\n\ncalling the greenness of the trees and the blossoming of the fruit by\nthe name of [Greek omitted]. Nay, there are some of the Greeks also who\nsacrifice to Bacchus surnamed [Greek omitted]. And therefore, seeing the\nverdure and floridness chiefly recommend this fruit, philosophers call\nit [Greek omitted]. But Lamprias our grandfather used to say that the\nword [Greek omitted] did not only denote excess and vehemency, but\nexternal and supernal; thus we call the upper frame of a door [Greek\nomitted], and the upper portion of the house [Greek omitted]; and the\npoet calls the outward parts of the victim the upper-flesh, as he calls\nthe entrails the inner-flesh. Let us see therefore, says he, whether\nEmpedocles did not make use of this epithet in this sense, seeing that\nother fruits are encompassed with an outward rind and with certain\ncoatings and membranes, but the only cortex rind that the apple has is\na glutinous and smooth tunic (or core) containing the seed, so that the\npart which can be eaten, and lies without, was properly called [Greek\nomitted], that IS OVER or OUTSIDE OF THE HUSK.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT THE FIG-TREE, BEING ITSELF OF A\nVERY SHARP AND BITTER TASTE, BEARS SO SWEET FRUIT?\n\nLAMPRIAS THE ELDER, AND OTHERS.\n\nThis discourse ended, the next question was about fig-trees, how so\nluscious and sweet fruit should come from so bitter a tree. For the leaf\nfrom its roughness is called [Greek omitted]. The wood of it is full of\nsap, and as it burns sends forth a very biting smoke; and the ashes of\nit thoroughly burnt are so acrimonious, that they make a lye extremely\ndetersive. And, which is very strange, all other trees that bud and bear\nfruit put forth blossoms too; but the fig-tree never blossoms. And if\n(as some say) it is never thunderstruck, that likewise may be attributed\nto the sharp juices and bad temper of the stock; for such things are as\nsecure from thunder as the skin of a sea calf or hyena. Then said the\nold man: It is no wonder that when all the sweetness is separated and\nemployed in making the fruit, that which is left should be bitter and\nunsavory. For as the liver, all the gall being gathered in its proper\nplace, is itself very sweet; so the fig-tree having parted with its oil\nand sweet particles to the fruit, reserves no portion for itself. For\nthat this tree hath some good juice, I gather from what they say of rue,\nwhich growing under a fig-tree is sweeter than usual, and hath a sweeter\nand more palatable juice, as if it drew some sweet particles from the\ntree which mollified its offensive and corroding qualities; unless\nperhaps, on the contrary, the fig-tree robbing it of its nourishment\ndraws likewise some of its sharpness and bitterness away.\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHAT ARE THOSE THAT ARE SAID TO BE [GREEK OMITTED], AND WHY\nHOMER CALLS SALT DIVINE?\n\nFLORUS, APOLLOPHANES, PLUTARCH, PHILINUS.\n\nFlorus, when we were entertained at his house, put this question, What\nare those in the proverb who are said to be about the salt and cummin?\nApollophanes the grammarian presently satisfied him, saying, by that\nproverb were meant intimate acquaintance, who could sup together on salt\nand cummin. Thence we proceeded to inquire how salt should come to be so\nmuch honored as it is; for Homer plainly says,\n\n     And after that he strewed his salt divine\n     (\"Iliad,\" ix. 214.)\n\nand Plato delivers that by man's laws salt is to be accounted most\nsacred. And this difficulty was increased by the customs of the Egyptian\npriests, who professing chastity eat no salt, no, not so much as in\ntheir bread. For if it be divine and holy, why should they avoid it?\n\nFlorus bade us not mind the Egyptians, but speak according to the\nGrecian custom on the present subject. But I replied: The Egyptians are\nnot contrary to the Greeks in this matter; for the profession of purity\nand chastity forbids getting children, laughter, wine, and many other\nvery commendable and lawful things; and perhaps these priests\navoid salt, as being, according to some men's opinions, by its heat\nprovocative and apt to raise lust. Or they refuse it as the most\npleasant of all sauces, for indeed salt may be called the sauce of all\nsauces; and therefore some call salt [Greek omitted]; because it makes\nfood, which is necessary for life, to be relishing and pleasant.\n\nWhat then, said Florus, shall we say that salt is termed divine for\nthat reason? Indeed that is very considerable, for men for the most part\ndeify those common things that are exceeding useful to their necessities\nand wants, as water, light, the seasons of the year; and the earth they\ndo not only think to be divine, but a very god. Now salt is as useful as\neither of these, protecting in a way the food as it comes into the body,\nand making it palatable and agreeable to the appetite. But consider\nfarther, whether its power of preserving dead bodies from rotting a long\ntime be not a divine property, and opposite to death; since it preserves\npart, and will not suffer that which is mortal wholly to be destroyed.\nBut as the soul, which is our diviner part, connects the limbs of\nanimals, and keeps the composure from dissolution; thus salt applied to\ndead bodies, and imitating the work of the soul, stops those parts that\nwere falling to corruption, binds and confines them, and so makes them\nkeep their union and agreement with one another. And therefore some of\nthe Stoics say, that swine's flesh then deserves the name of a body,\nwhen the soul like salt spreads through it and keeps the parts from\ndissolution. Besides, you know that we account lightning to be sacred\nand divine, because the bodies that are thunderstruck do not rot for a\nlong time; what wonder is it then, that the ancients called salt as well\nas lightning divine, since it hath the same property and power?\n\nI making no reply, Philinus subjoined: Do you not think that that which\nis generative is to be esteemed divine, seeing God is the principle of\nall things? And I assenting, he continued: Salt, in the opinion of some\nmen, for instance the Egyptians you mentioned, is very operative that\nway; and those that breed dogs, when they find their bitches not apt to\nbe hot, give them salt and seasoned flesh, to excite and arouse their\nsleeping lechery and vigor. Besides, the ships that carry salt breed\nabundance of mice; the females, as some imagine, conceiving without the\nhelp of the males, only by licking the salt. But it is most probable\nthat the salt raiseth an itching in animals, and so makes them salacious\nand eager to couple. And perhaps for the same reason they call a\nsurprising and bewitching beauty, such as is apt to move and entice,\n[Greek omitted], SALTISH. And I think the poets had a respect to this\ngenerative power of salt in their fable of Venus springing from the sea.\nAnd it may be farther observed, that they make all the sea gods very\nfruitful, and give them large families. And besides, there are no land\nanimals so fruitful as the sea ones; agreeable to which observation is\nthat verse of Empedocles,\n\n     Leading the foolish race of fruitful fish.\n\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VI.\n\nTimotheus the son of Conon, Sossius Senecio, after a full\nenjoyment of luxurious campaign diet, being entertained by Plato in his\nAcademy, at a neat, homely, and (as Ion says) no surfeiting feast (such\nan one as is constantly attended by sound sleep, and by reason of the\ncalm and pleasant state the body enjoys, rarely interrupted with dreams\nand apparitions), the next day, being sensible of the difference, said\nthat those that supped with Plato were well treated, even the day after\nthe feast. For such a temper of a body not overcharged, but expedite and\nfitted for the ready execution of all its enterprises, is without all\ndoubt a great help for the more comfortable passing away of the day. But\nthere is another benefit not inferior to the former, which does usually\naccrue to those that sup with Plato, namely, the recollection of those\npoints that were debated at the table. For the remembrance of those\npleasures which arise from meat and drink is ungenteel, and short-lived\nwithal, and nothing but the remains of yesterday's smell. But the\nsubjects of philosophical queries and discourses, being always fresh\nafter they are imparted, are equally relished by all, as well by those\nthat were absent as by those that were present at them; insomuch that\nlearned men even now are as much partakers of Socrates's feasts as those\nwho really supped with him. But if things pertaining to the body had af\ndiscourse, but of the great variety of dishes, sauces, and other costly\ncompositions that were prepared in the houses of Callias and Agatho. Yet\nthere is not the least mention made of any such things, though\nquestionless they were as sumptuous as possible; but whatever things\nwere treated of and learnedly discussed by their guests were left upon\nrecord and transmitted to posterity as precedents, not only for\ndiscoursing at table, but also for remembering the things that were\nhandled at such meetings.\n\n\n\nQUESTION I. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT THOSE THAT ARE FASTING ARE MORE\nTHIRSTY THAN HUNGRY?\n\nPLUTARCH AND OTHERS.\n\nI present you with this Sixth Book of Table Discourses, wherein the\nfirst thing that cometh to be discussed is an inquiry into the reason\nwhy those that are fasting are more inclinable to drink than to eat.\nFor the assertion carries in it a repugnancy to the standing rules of\nreason; forasmuch as the decayed stock of dry nourishment seems more\nnaturally to call for its proper supplies. Whereupon I told the company,\nthat of those things whereof our bodies are composed, heat only--or,\nhowever, above all the rest--stands in continual need of such\naccessions; for the truth of which this may be urged as a convincing\nargument: neither air, water, nor earth requires any matter to feed\nupon, or devours whatsoever lies next it; but fire alone doth. Hence\nit comes to pass that young men, by reason of their greater share of\nnatural heat, have commonly greater stomachs than old men; whereas on\nthe contrary, old men can endure fasting much better, for this only\nreason, because their natural heat is grown weaker and decayed. Just so\nwe see it fares with bloodless animals, which by reason of the want of\nheat require very little nourishment. Besides, every one of us finds by\nexperience, that bodily exercises, clamors, and whatever other actions\nby violent motion occasion heat, commonly sharpen our stomachs and get\nus a better appetite. Now, as I take it, the most natural and principal\nnourishment of heat is moisture, as it evidently appears from flames,\nwhich increase by the pouring in of oil, and from ashes, which are of\nthe driest things in nature; for after the humidity is consumed by the\nfire, the terrene and grosser parts remain without any moisture at all.\nAdd to these, that fire separates and dissolves bodies by extracting\nthat moisture which should keep them close and compact. Therefore, when\nwe are fasting, the heat first of all forces the moisture out of the\nrelics of the nourishment that remain in the body, and then, pursuing\nthe other humid parts, preys upon the natural moisture of the flesh\nitself. Hence the body like clay becoming dry, wants drink more than\nmeat; till the heat, receiving strength and vigor by our drinking,\nexcites an appetite for more substantial food.\n\n\n\nQUESTION II. WHETHER WANT OF NOURISHMENT CAUSETH HUNGER AND THIRST OR\nTHE CHANGE IN THE FIGURES OF THE PORES.\n\nPHILO, PLUTARCH.\n\nAfter these things were spoke, Philo the physician started the\nfirst question, asserting that thirst did not arise from the want of\nnourishment, but from the different transfiguration of certain passages.\nFor, says he, this may be made evident, partly from what we see happens\nto those that thirst in the night, who, if sleep chance to steal upon\nthem, though they did not drink before, are yet rid of their thirst;\npartly from persons in a fever, who, as soon as the disease abates or is\nremoved, thirst no more. Nay, a great many men, after they have bathed\nor vomited, perceive presently that their thirst is gone; yet none\nof these add anything to their former moisture, but only the\ntransfiguration of the pores causeth a new order and disposition. And\nthis is more evident in hunger; for many sick persons, at the same time\nwhen they have the greatest need of meat, have no stomach. Others,\nafter they have filled their bellies, have the same stomachs, and their\nappetites are rather increased than abated. There are a great many\nbesides who loathe all sorts of diet, yet by taking of a pickled olive\nor caper recover and confirm their lost appetites. This doth clearly\nevince, that hunger proceeds from some change in the pores, and not\nfrom any want of sustenance, forasmuch as such kind of food lessens the\ndefect by adding food, but increases the hunger; and the pleasing relish\nand poignancy of such pickles, by binding and straitening the mouth of\nthe ventricle, and again by opening and loosening of it, beget in it\na convenient disposition to receive meat, which we call by the name of\nappetite.\n\nI must confess this discourse seemed to carry in it some shadow of\nreason and probability; but in the main it is directly repugnant to the\nchief end of nature, to which appetite directs every animal. For that\nmakes it desire a supply of what they stand in need of, and avoid a\ndefect of their proper food. For to deny what especially makes a\nliving creature differ from an inanimate object as given to us for our\npreservation and conservation (being as it were the receiver of what\nsupplements and agrees with the nature of our body) is the argument of\none who takes no account of natural law, especially when he would add\nthat the characteristic proceeds from the great or small size of the\npores. Besides, it is absurd to think that a body through the want of\nnatural heat should be chilled, and should not in like manner hunger\nand thirst through the want of natural moisture and nourishment. And\nyet this is more absurd, that Nature when overcharged should desire to\ndisburden herself, and yet should not require to be supplied on account\nof emptiness, but on account of some condition or other, I know not\nwhat. Moreover, these needs and supplies in relation to animals have\nsome resemblance to those we see in husbandry. There are a great many\nlike qualities and like provisions on both sides. For in a drought we\nwater our grounds, and in case of excessive heat, we frequently make use\nof moderate coolers; and when our fruits are too cold, we endeavor to\npreserve and cherish them, by covering and making fences about them. And\nfor such things as are out of the reach of human power, we implore\nthe assistance of the gods, that is, to send us softening dews, and\nsunshines qualified with moderate winds; that so Nature, being always\ndesirous of a due mixture, may have her wants supplied. And for this\nreason I presume it was that nourishment is called [Greek omitted] (from\n[Greek omitted]), because it observes and preserves Nature. Now Nature\nis preserved in plants, which are destitute of sense, by the favorable\ninfluence of the circumambient air (as Empedocles says), moistening them\nin such a measure as is most agreeable to their nature. But as for us\nmen, our appetites prompt us on to the chase and pursuance of whatsoever\nis wanting to our natural temperament.\n\nBut now let us pass to the examination of the truth of the arguments\nthat seem to favor the contrary opinion. And for the first, I suppose\nthat those meats that are palatable and of a quick and sharp taste do\nnot beget in us an appetite, but rather bite and fret those parts that\nreceive the nourishment, as we find that scratching the skin causes\nitching. And supposing we should grant that this affection or\ndisposition is the very thing which we call the appetite, it is probable\nthat, by the operation of such kind of food as this, the nourishment\nmay be made small, and so much of it as is convenient for Nature\nsevered from the rest, so that the indigency proceeds not from the\ntransmutation, but from the evacuation and purgation of the passages.\nFor sharp, tart, and salt things grate the inward matter, and by\ndispersing of it cause digestion, so that by the concoctions of the old\nthere may arise an appetite for new. Nor does the cessation of thirst\nafter bathing spring from the different position of the passages, but\nfrom a new supply of moisture received into the flesh, and conveyed\nfrom thence to them also. And vomiting, by throwing off whatever is\ndisagreeable to Nature, puts her in a capacity of enjoying what is\nmost suitable for her. For thirst does not call for a superfluity of\nmoisture, but only for so much as sufficeth Nature; and therefore,\nthough a man had plenty of disagreeable and unnatural moisture, yet he\nwants still, for that stops the course of the natural, which Nature is\ndesirous of, and hinders a due mixture and temperament, till it be cast\nout and the pores receive what is most proper and convenient for them.\nMoreover, a fever forces all the moisture downward; and the middle parts\nbeing in combustion, it all retires thither, and there is shut up and\nforcibly detained. And therefore it is usual with a great many to vomit,\nby reason of the density of the inward parts squeezing out the moisture,\nand likewise to thirst, by reason of the poor and dry state the rest of\nthe body is in. But after the violence of the distemper is once abated,\nand the raging heat hath left the middle parts, the moisture begins to\ndisperse itself again; and according to its natural motion, by a speedy\nconveyance into all the parts, it refreshes the entrails, softens and\nmakes tender the dry and parched flesh. Very often also it causes sweat,\nand then the defect which occasioned thirst ceases; for the moisture\nleaving that part of the body wherein it was forcibly detained, and\nout of which it hardly made an escape, retires to the place where it is\nwanted. For as it fares with a garden wherein there is a large well,--if\nnobody draw thereof and water it, the herbs must needs wither and\ndie,--so it fares with a body; if all the moisture be contracted into\none part, it is no wonder if the rest be in want and dry, till it is\ndiffused again over the other limbs. Just so it happens to persons in a\nfever, after the heat of the disease is over, and likewise to those\nwho go to sleep thirsty. For in these, sleep draws the moisture to the\nmiddle parts, and equally distributes it amongst the rest, satisfying\nthem all. But, I pray, what kind of transfiguration of the passages\nis this which causes hunger and thirst? For my part, I know no other\ndistinction of the pores but in respect of their number or that some of\nthem are shut, others open. As for those that are shut, they can neither\nreceive meat nor drink; and as for those that are open, they make an\nempty space, which is nothing but a want of that which Nature requires.\nThus, sir, when men dye cloth, the liquor in which they dip it hath very\nsharp and abstersive particles; which, consuming and scouring off all\nthe matter that filled the pores, make the cloth more apt to receive the\ndye, because its pores are empty and want something to fill them up.\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT HUNGER IS ALLAYED BY DRINKING, BUT\nTHIRST INCREASED BY EATING?\n\nTHE HOST, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nAfter we had gone thus far, the master of the feast told the company\nthat the former points were reasonably well discussed; and waiving at\npresent the discourse concerning the evacuation and repletion of the\npores, he requested us to fall upon another question, that is, how it\ncomes to pass that hunger is stayed by drinking, when, on the contrary,\nthirst is more violent after eating. Those who assign the reason to be\nin the pores seem with a great deal of ease and probability, though not\nwith so much truth, to explain the thing. For seeing the pores in all\nbodies are of different sorts and sizes, the more capacious receive both\ndry and humid nourishment, the lesser take in drink, not meat; but the\nvacuity of the former causes hunger, of the latter thirst. Hence it is\nthat men that thirst are never better after they have eaten, the pores\nby reason of their straitness denying admittance to grosser nourishment,\nand the want of suitable supply still remaining. But after hungry men\nhave drunk, the moisture enters the greater pores, fills the empty\nspaces, and in part assuages the violence of the hunger.\n\nOf this effect, said I, I do not in the least doubt, but I do not\napprove of the reason they give for it. For if any one should admit\nthese pores (which some are so unreasonably fond of) to be in the flesh,\nhe must needs make it a very soft, loose, flabby substance; and that the\nsame parts do not receive the meat and drink, but that they run through\ndifferent canals and strainers in them, seems to me to be a very strange\nand unaccountable opinion. For the moisture mixes with the dry food, and\nby the assistance of the natural heat and spirits cuts the nourishment\nfar smaller than any cleaver or chopping-knife, to the end that every\npart of it may be exactly fitted to each part of the body, not applied,\nas they would have it, to little vessels and pores, but united and\nincorporated with the whole substance. And unless the thing were\nexplained after this manner, the hardest knot in the question would\nstill remain unsolved. For a man that has a thirst upon him, supposing\nhe eats and doth not drink, is so far from quenching, that he does\nhighly increase it. This point is yet undiscussed. But mark, said I,\nwhether the positions on my side be clear and evident or not. In\nthe first place, we take it for granted that moisture is wasted and\ndestroyed by heat, that the drier parts of the nourishment qualified and\nsoftened by moisture, are diffused and fly away in vapors. Secondly, we\nmust by no means suppose that all hunger is a total privation of dry,\nand thirst of humid nutriment, but only a moderate one, and such as\nis sufficient to cause the one or the other; for whoever are wholly\ndeprived of either of these, they neither hunger nor thirst, but die\ninstantly. These things being laid down as a foundation, it will be no\nhard matter to find out the cause. For thirst is increased by eating\nfor this reason, because that meat by its natural siccity contracts and\ndestroys all that small quantity of moisture which remained scattered\nhere and there through the body; just as happens in things obvious to\nour senses; we see the earth, dust, and the like presently suck in the\nmoisture that is mixed with them. Now, on the contrary, drink must of\nnecessity assuage hunger; for the moisture watering and diffusing itself\nthrough the dry and parched relics of the meat we ate last, by turning\nthem into thin juices, conveys them through the whole body, and succors\nthe indigent parts. And therefore with very good reason Erasistratus\ncalled moisture the vehicle of the meat; for as soon as this is mixed\nwith things which by reason of their dryness, or some other quality,\nare slow and heavy, it raises them up and carries them aloft. Moreover,\nseveral men, when they have drunk nothing at all, but only washed\nthemselves, all on a sudden are freed from a very violent hunger,\nbecause the extrinsic moisture entering the pores makes the meat within\nmore succulent and of a more nourishing nature, so that the heat and\nfury of the hunger declines and abates; and therefore a great many of\nthose who have a mind to starve themselves to death live a long time\nonly by drinking water; that is, as long as the siccity does not quite\nconsume whatever may be united to and nourish the body.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT A BUCKET OF WATER DRAWN OUT OF A\nWELL, IF IT STANDS ALL NIGHT IN THE AIR THAT IS IN THE WELL, IS, MORE\nCOLD IN THE MORNING THAN THE REST OF THE WATER?\n\nA GUEST, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nOne of the strangers at the the table, who took wonderful great delight\nin drinking of cold water, had some brought to him by the servants,\ncooled after this manner; they had hung in the well a bucket full of the\nsame water, so that it could not touch the sides of the well, and there\nlet it remain, all night: the next day, when it was brought to table, it\nwas colder than the water that was newdrawn. Now this gentleman was an\nindifferent good scholar, and therefore told the company that he had\nlearned this from Aristotle, who gives the reason of it. The reason\nwhich he assigned was this. All water, when it hath been once hot, is\nafterwards more cold; as that which is prepared for kings, when it hath\nboiled a good while upon the fire, is afterwards put into a vessel set\nround with snow, and so made colder; just as we find our bodies more\ncool after we have bathed, because the body, after a short relaxation\nfrom heat, is rarefied and more porous, and therefore so much the more\nfitted to receive a larger quantity of air, which causes the alteration.\nTherefore the water, when it is drawn out of the well, being first\nwarmed in the air, grows presently cold.\n\nWhereupon we began to commend the man very highly for his happy memory;\nbut we called in question the pretended reason. For if the air wherein\nthe vessel hangs be cold, how, I pray, does it heat the water? If hot,\nhow does it afterwards make it cold? For it is absurd to say, that the\nsame thing is affected by the same thing with contrary qualities, no\ndifference at all intervening. While the gentleman held his peace, as\nnot knowing what to say; there is no cause, said I, that we should\nraise any scruple concerning the nature of the air, forasmuch as we\nare ascertained by sense that it is cold, especially in the bottom of a\nwell; and therefore we can never imagine that it should make the water\nhot. But I should rather judge this to be the reason: the cold air,\nthough it cannot cool the great quantity of water which is in the well,\nyet can easily cool each part of it, separate from the whole.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT PEBBLE STONES AND LEADEN BULLETS\nTHROWN INTO THE WATER MAKE IT MORE COLD?\n\nA GUEST, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nI suppose you may remember that what Aristotle says in his problems, of\nlittle stones and pieces of iron, how it hath been observed by some that\nbeing thrown into the water they temper and cool it. This is no more\nthan barely asserted by him; but we will go farther and inquire into\nthe reason of it, the discovery of which will be a matter of difficulty.\nYes, says I, it will so, and it is much if we hit upon it; for do but\nconsider, first of all, do not you suppose that the air which comes in\nfrom without cools the water? But now air has a great deal more power\nand force, when it beats against stones and pieces of iron. For they do\nnot, like brazen and earthen vessels, suffer it to pass through; but, by\nreason of their solid bulk, beat it back and reflect it into the water,\nso that upon all parts the cold works very strongly. And hence it comes\nto pass that rivers in the winter are colder than the sea, because the\ncold air has a power over them, which by reason of its depth it has not\nover the sea, where it is scattered without any reflection. But it is\nprobable that for another reason thinner waters may be made colder\nby the air than thicker, because they are not so strong to resist its\nforce. Now whetstones and pebbles make the water thinner by drawing to\nthem all the mud and other grosser substances that be mixed with it,\nthat so by taking the strength from it may the more easily be wrought\nupon by the cold. But besides, lead is naturally cold, as that which,\nbeing dissolved in vinegar, makes the coldest of all poisons, called\nwhite-lead; and stones, by reason of their density, raise cold in the\nbottom of the water. For every stone is nothing else but a congealed\nlump of frozen earth, though some more or less than others; and\ntherefore it is no absurdity to say that stones and lead, by reflecting\nthe air, increase the coldness of the water.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI\n\nWHAT IS THE REASON THAT MEN PRESERVE SNOW BY COVERING IT WITH CHAFF AND\nCLOTHS?\n\nA GUEST, PLUTARCH.\n\nThen the stranger, after he had made a little pause, said: Men in love\nare ambitious to be in company with their sweethearts; when that is\ndenied them, they desire at least to talk of them. This is my case\nin relation to snow; and, because I cannot have it at present, I am\ndesirous to learn the reason why it is commonly preserved by the hottest\nthings. For, when covered with chaff and cloth that has never been at\nthe fuller's, it is preserved a long time. Now it is strange that the\ncoldest things should be preserved by the hottest.\n\nYes, said I, it is a very strange thing, if true. But it is not so; and\nwe cozen ourselves by presently concluding a thing to be hot if it have\na faculty of causing heat, when as yet we see that the same garment\ncauses heat in winter, and cold in summer. Thus the nurse in the\ntragedy,\n\n     In garments thin doth Niobe's children fold,\n     And sometimes heats and sometimes cools the babes.\n\nThe Germans indeed make use of clothes only against the cold, the\nEthiopians only against the heat; but they are useful to us upon both\naccounts. Why therefore should we rather say the clothes are hot,\nbecause they cause heat, than cold, because they cause cold? Nay, if we\nmust be tried by sense, it will be found that they are more cold than\nhot. For at the first putting on of a coat it is cold, and so is our\nbed when we lie down; but afterwards they grow hot with the heat of\nour bodies, because they both keep in the heat and keep out the cold.\nIndeed, feverish persons and others that have a violent heat upon them\noften change their clothes, because they perceive that fresh ones at the\nfirst putting on are much colder; but within a very little time their\nbodies make them as hot as the others. In like manner, as a garment\nheated makes us hot, so a covering cooled keeps snow cold. Now that\nwhich causes this cold is the continual emanations of a subtile spirit\nthe snow has in it, which spirit, as long as it remains in the snow,\nkeeps it compact and close; but, after once it is gone, the snow melts\nand dissolves into water, and instantly loses its whiteness, occasioned\nby a mixture of this spirit with a frothy moisture. Therefore at the\nsame time, by the help of these clothes, the cold is kept in, and the\nexternal air is shut out, lest it should thaw the concrete body of the\nsnow. The reason why they make use of cloth that has not yet been at the\nfuller's is this, because that in such cloth the hair and coarse flocks\nkeep it off from pressing too hard upon the snow, and bruising it. So\nchaff lying lightly upon it does not dissolve the body of the snow,\nbesides the chaff lies close and shuts out the warm air, and keeps in\nthe natural cold of the snow. Now that snow melts by the evaporating of\nthis spirit, we are ascertained by sense; for when snow melts it raises\na vapor.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. WHETHER WINE OUGHT TO BE STRAINED OR NOT.\n\nNIGER, ARISTIO.\n\nNiger, a citizen of ours, was lately come from school, after he had\nspent some time under the discipline of a celebrated philosopher, but\nhad absorbed nothing but those faults by which his master was odious to\nothers, especially his custom of reproving and of carping at whatever\nupon any occasion chanced to be discussed in company. And therefore,\nwhen we were at supper one time at Aristio's, not content to assume to\nhimself a liberty to rail at all the rest of the preparations as too\nprofuse and extravagant, he had a pique at the wine too, and said\nthat it ought not to be brought to table strained, but that, observing\nHesiod's rule, we ought to drink it new out of the vessel. Moreover, he\nadded that this way of purging wine takes the strength from it, and robs\nit of its natural heat, which, when wine is poured out of one vessel\ninto another, evaporates and dies. Besides he would needs persuade us\nthat it showed too much of a vain curiosity, effeminacy, and luxury,\nto convert what is wholesome into that which is palatable. For as the\nriotous, not the temperate, use to cut cocks and geld pigs, to make\ntheir flesh tender and delicious, even against Nature; just so (if we\nmay use a metaphor, says he) those that strain wine geld and emasculate\nit, whilst their squeamish stomachs will neither suffer them to drink\npure wine, nor their intemperance to drink moderately. Therefore they\nmake use of this expedient, to the end that it may render the desire\nthey have of drinking plentifully more excusable. So they take all the\nstrength from the wine, leaving the palatableness still: as we use to\ndeal with those with whose constitution cold water does not agree, to\nboil it for them. For they certainly take off all the strength from the\nwine, by straining of it. And this is a great argument, that the wine\ndeads, grows flat, and loses its virtue, when it is separated from the\nlees, as from its root and stock; for the ancients for very good reason\ncalled wine lees, as we use to signify a man by his head or soul, as\nthe principal part of him. So in Greek, grape-gatherers are said [Greek\nomitted], the word being derived from [Greek omitted], which signifies\nlees; and Homer in one place calls the fruit of the wine [Greek\nomitted], and the wine itself high-colored and red,--not pale and\nyellow, such as Aristio gives us to supper, after all the goodness is\npurged out of it.\n\nThen Aristio smiling presently replied: Sir, the wine I bring to table\ndoes not look so pale and lifeless as you would have it: but it appears\nonly in the cup to be mild and well qualified. But for your part, you\nwould glut yourself with night wine, which raises melancholy vapors; and\nupon this account you cry out against purgation, which, by carrying off\nwhatever might cause melancholy or load men's stomachs, and make them\ndrunk or sick, makes it mild and pleasant to those that drink it, such\nas heroes (as Homer tells us) were formerly wont to drink. And it\nwas not dark wine which he called [Greek omitted], but clear and\ntransparent; for otherwise he would never have named brass [Greek\nomitted], after characterizing it as man-exalting and resplendent.\nTherefore as the wise Anacharsis, discommending some things that the\nGrecians enjoined, commended their coals, because they leave the smoke\nwithout doors, and bring the fire into the house; so you judicious men\nmight blame me for some other reason than this. But what hurt, I pray,\nhave I done to the wine, by taking from it a turbulent and noisome\nquality, and giving it a better taste, though a paler color? Nor have\nI brought you wine to the table which, like a sword, hath lost its edge\nand vigorous relish, but such as is only purged of its dregs and filth.\nBut you will say that wine not strained hath a great deal more strength.\nWhy so, my friend? One that is frantic and distracted has more strength\nthan a man in his wits; but when, by the help of hellebore or some other\nfit diet, he is come to himself, that rage and frenzy leave him\nand quite vanish, and the true use of his reason and health of body\npresently comes into its place. In like manner, purging of wine takes\nfrom it all the strength that inflames and enrages the mind, and gives\nit instead thereof a mild and wholesome temper; and I think there is a\ngreat deal of difference between gaudiness and cleanliness. For women,\nwhile they paint, perfume, and adorn themselves with jewels and purple\nrobes, are accounted gaudy and profuse; yet nobody will find fault with\nthem for washing their faces, anointing themselves, or platting their\nhair. Homer very neatly expresses the difference of these two habits,\nwhere he brings in Juno dressing herself:--\n\n     With sweet ambrosia first she washed her skin,\n     And after did anoint herself with oil.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xiv. 170.)\n\nSo much was allowable, being no more than a careful cleanliness. But\nwhen she comes to call for her golden buttons, her curiously wrought\nearrings, and last of all puts on her bewitching girdle, this appears\nto be an extravagant and idle curiosity, and betrays too much of\nwantonness, which by no means becomes a married woman. Just so they that\nsophisticate wine by mixing it with aloes, cinnamon, or saffron bring it\nto the table like a gorgeous-apparelled woman, and there prostitute it.\nBut those that only take from it what is nasty and no way profitable\ndo only purge it and improve it by their labor. Otherwise you may find\nfault with all things whatsoever as vain and extravagant, beginning at\nthe house you live in. As first, you may say, why is it plastered?\nWhy does it open especially on that side where it may have the best\nconvenience for receiving the purest air, and the benefit of the evening\nsun? What is the reason that our cups are washed and made so clean that\nthey shine and look bright? Now if a cup ought to have nothing that is\nnasty or loathsome in it, ought that which is drunk out of the cup to\nbe full of dregs and filth? What need is there for mentioning anything\nelse? The making corn into bread is a continual cleansing; and yet what\na great ado there is before it is effected! There is not only threshing,\nwinnowing, sifting, and separating the bran, but there must be kneading\nthe dough to soften all parts alike, and a continual cleansing and\nworking of the mass till all the parts become edible alike. What\nabsurdity is it then by straining to separate the lees, as it were the\nfilth of the wine, especially since the cleansing is no chargeable or\npainful operation?\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHAT IS THE CAUSE OF BULIMY OR THE GREEDY DISEASE?\n\nPLUTARCH, SOCLARUS, CLEOMENES, AND OTHERS.\n\nThere is a certain sacrifice of very ancient institution, which the\nchief magistrate or archon performs always in the common-hall, and every\nprivate person in his own house. 'Tis called the driving out of bulimy;\nfor they whip out of doors some one of their servants with a bunch of\nwillow rods, repeating these words, Get out of doors, bulimy; and enter\nriches and health. Therefore in my year there was a great concourse of\npeople present at the sacrifice; and, after all the rites and ceremonies\nof the sacrifice were over, when we had seated ourselves again at the\ntable, there was an inquiry made first of all into the signification of\nthe word bulimy, then into the meaning of the words which are repeated\nwhen the servant is turned out of doors. But the principal dispute was\nconcerning the nature of it, and all its circumstances. First, as for\nthe word bulimy, it was agreed upon by all to denote a great and public\nfamine, especially among us who use the Aeolic dialect, putting [Greek\nomitted] for [Greek omitted]. For it was not called by the ancients\n[Greek omitted] but [Greek omitted], that is, [Greek omitted], much\nhunger. We concluded that it was not the same with the disease called\nBubrostis, by an argument fetched out of Metrodorus's Ionics. For the\nsaid Metrodorus informs us that the Smyrnaeans, who were once Aeolians,\nsacrificed to Bubrostis a black bull cut into pieces with the skin on,\nand so burnt it. Now, forasmuch as every species of hunger resembles\na disease, but more particularly Bulimy, which is occasioned by an\nunnatural disposition of the body, these two differ as riches and\npoverty, health and sickness. But as the word NAUSEATE [Greek omitted]\nfirst took its name from men who were sea-sick in a ship, and afterwards\ncustom prevailed so far that the word was applied to all persons that\nwere any way in like sort affected; so the word BULIMY, rising at first\nfrom hence, was at last extended to a more large and comprehensive\nsignification. What has been hitherto said was a general club of the\nopinions of all those who were at table.\n\nBut after we began to inquire after the cause of this disease, the first\nthing that puzzled us was to find out the reason why bulimy seizes\nupon those that travel in the snow. As Brutus, one time marching from\nDyrrachium to Apollonia in a deep snow, was endangered of his life by\nbulimy, whilst none of those that carried the provisions for the army\nfollowed him; just when the man was ready to faint and die, some of his\nsoldiers were forced to run to the walls of the enemies' city, and beg a\npiece of bread of the sentinels, by the eating of which he was presently\nrefreshed; for which cause, after Brutus had made himself master of the\ncity, he treated all the inhabitants very mercifully. Asses and horses\nare frequently troubled with bulimy, especially when they are laden with\ndry figs and apples; and, which is yet more strange, of all things that\nare eaten, bread chiefly refreshes not only men but beasts; so that,\nby taking a little quantity of bread, they regain their strength and go\nforward on their journey.\n\nAfter all were silent, I (who had observed that dull fellows and those\nof a less piercing judgment were satisfied with and did acquiesce in\nthe reasons the ancients gave for bulimy, but to men of ingenuity and\nindustry they only pointed out the way to a more clear discovery of the\ntruth of the business) mentioned Aristotle's opinion, who says, that\nextreme cold without causes extreme heat and consumption within; which,\nif it fall into the legs, makes them lazy and heavy, but if it come\nto the fountain of motion and respiration, occasions faintings and\nweakness. When I had said that, some of the company opposed it, others\nheld with me.\n\nAt length says Soclarus: I like the beginning of this reason very\nwell, for the bodies of travellers in a great snow must of necessity be\nsurrounded and condensed with cold; but that from the heat within there\nshould arise such a consumption as invades the principle of respiration,\nI can no way imagine. I rather think, says he, that abundance of heat\npenned up in the body consumes the nourishment, and that failing, the\nfire as it were goes out. Here it comes to pass, that men troubled with\nthis bulimy, when they are ready to starve with hunger, if they eat\nnever so little meat, are presently refreshed. The reason is, because\nmeat digested is like fuel for the heat to feed upon.\n\nBut Cleomenes the physician would have the word [Greek omitted] (which\nsignifies hunger) to be added to the making up of the word [Greek\nomitted] without sufficient reason; as [Greek omitted], to drink, is\nadded to [Greek omitted], to swallow; and [Greek omitted] to incline,\ninto [Greek omitted] to raise the head. Nor is bulimy, as it seems, a\nkind of hunger, but an affection in the stomach causing a faintness on\naccount of the concourse of heat. Therefore as things that have a good\nsmell recall the spirits of those that are faint, so bread affects those\nthat are almost overcome with a bulimy; not that they have any need of\nfood (for the least piece of it restores them their strength), but the\nbread calls back their vigor and languishing spirits. Now that bulimy is\nnot hunger but a faintness, is manifest from all laboring beasts, which\nare seized with it very often through the smell of dry figs and apples;\nfor a smell does not cause any want of food, but rather a pain and\nagitation in the stomach.\n\nThese things seemed to be reasonably well urged; and yet it seemed that\nmuch might be said for the contrary opinion, and that it was possible\nenough to maintain that bulimy ariseth not from condensation but\nrarefication of the stomach. For the spirit which flows from the snow\nis nothing but the aether and finest fragment of the frozen substance,\nendued with a virtue of cutting and dividing not only the flesh, but\nalso silver and brazen vessels; for we see that these are not able to\nkeep in the snow, for it dissolves and evaporates, and glazes over the\noutmost superficies of the vessels with a thin dew, not unlike to\nice, which this spirit leaves as it secretly passes through the pores.\nTherefore this piercing spirit, like a flame, seizing upon those that\ntravel in the snow, seems to burn their outsides, and like fire to enter\nand penetrate the flesh. Hence it is that the flesh is more rarefied,\nand the heat is extinguished by the cold spirit that lies upon the\nsuperficies of the body; therefore the body evaporates a dewy thin\nsweat, which melts away and decays the strength. Now if a man should sit\nstill at such a time, there would not much heat fly out of his body. But\nwhen the motion of the body doth quickly heat the nourishment, and that\nheat bursts through the thin skin, there must necessarily be a great\nloss of strength. Now we know by experience, that cold hath a virtue not\nonly to condense but also to loosen bodies; for in extreme cold winters\npieces of lead are found to sweat. And when we see that a bulimy happens\nwhere there is no hunger, we may conclude that at that time the body\nis rather in a fluid than condensed state. The reason that bodies are\nrarefied in winter is because of the subtility of the spirit; especially\nwhen the moving and tiring of the body stir the heat, which, as soon as\nit is subtilized and agitated, flies apace, and spreads itself through\nthe whole body. Lastly, it is very possible that apples and dry figs\nexhale some such thing as this, which rarefies and attenuates the heat\nof the beasts; for some things have a natural tendency as well to weaken\nas to refresh different creatures.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. WHY DOES HOMER APPROPRIATE A CERTAIN PECULIAR EPITHET TO\nEACH PARTICULAR LIQUID, AND CALL OIL ONLY LIQUID?\n\nPLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nIt was the subject once of a discourse, why, when there are several\nsorts of liquids, the poet should give every one of them a peculiar\nepithet, calling milk white, honey yellow, wine red, and yet for all\nthis bestow no other upon oil but what it hath in common with all other\nliquids. To this it was answered that, as that is said to be most sweet\nwhich is perfectly sweet, and to be most white which is perfectly white\n(I mean here by perfectly that which hath nothing of a contrary quality\nmixed with it), so that ought to be called perfectly humid whereof never\na part is dry; and this is proper to oil.\n\nFor first of all, its smoothness shows the evenness of its parts; for\ntouch it where you please, it is all alike. Besides, you may see your\nface in it as perfectly as in a mirror; for there is nothing rough in it\nto hinder the reflection, but by reason of its humidity it reflects\nto the eye the least particle of light from every portion. As, on\nthe contrary, milk, of all other liquids, does not return our images,\nbecause it hath too many terrene and gross parts mixed with it; again,\noil of all other liquids makes the least noise when moved, for it is\nperfectly humid. When other liquids are moved or poured out, their hard\nand grosser parts fall and dash one against another, and so make a noise\nby reason of their roughness. Moreover, oil only is pure and unmixed;\nfor it is of all other liquids most compact, nor has it any empty spaces\nand pores between the dry and earthy parts to receive what chances to\nfall upon it. Besides, because of the similitude of its parts, it is\nclosely joined together, and unfit to be joined to anything else. When\noil froths, it does not let any wind in, by reason of the contiguity and\nsubtility of its parts; and this is also the cause why fire is nourished\nby it. For fire feeds upon nothing but what is moist, for nothing is\ncombustible but what is so; for when the fire is kindled, the air turns\nto smoke, and the terrene and grosser parts remain in the ashes. Fire\nonly preys upon the moisture, which is its natural nourishment. Indeed,\nwater, wine, and other liquors, having abundance of earthy and heavy\nparts in them, by falling into fire part it, and by their roughness and\nweight smother and extinguish it. But oil, because purely liquid, by\nreason of its subtility, is overcome by the fire, and so changed into\nflame.\n\nIt is the greatest argument that can be of its humidity, that the least\nquantity of it spreads itself a great way; for so small a drop of honey,\nwater, or any other liquid does not extend itself so far, but very\noften, by reason of the dry mixed parts, is presently wasted. Because\noil is ductile and soft, men are wont to make use of it for anointing\ntheir bodies; for it runs along and spreads itself through all the\nparts, and sticks so firmly to them that it is not easily washed off.\nWe find by experience, that a garment wet with water is presently dried\nagain; but it is no easy matter to wash out the spots and stain of oil,\nfor it enters deep, because of its most subtile and humid nature.\nHence it is that Aristotle says, that the drops of diluted wine are the\nhardest to be got out of clothes, because they are most subtile, and run\nfarther into the pores of the cloth.\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT FLESH OF SACRIFICED BEASTS, AFTER\nBEING HUNG A WHILE UPON A FIG-TREE IS MORE TENDER THAN BEFORE?\n\nARISTIO, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nAt supper we were commanding Aristio's cook, who, amongst other dishes\nthat he had dressed very curiously, brought a cock to table just killed\nas a sacrifice to Hercules, as tender as though it had been killed a\nday or two before. When Aristio told us that this was no wonder,--seeing\nsuch a thing might very easily be done, if the cock, as soon as he was\nkilled, was hung upon a fig-tree,--we began to inquire into the reason\nof what he asserted. Indeed, I must confess, our eye assures us that\na fig-tree sends out a fierce and strong spirit; which is yet more\nevident, from what we have heard said of bulls. That is, a bull, after\nhe is tied to a fig-tree, though never so mad before, grows presently\ntame, and will suffer you to touch him, and on a sudden all his rage and\nfury cool and die. But the chiefest cause that works this change is the\nsharp acrimonious quality of the tree. For this tree is the fullest of\nsap, and so are its figs, wood, and bark; and hence it comes to pass,\nthat the smoke of fig-wood is most offensive to the eyes; and when it\nis burned, its ashes make the best lye to scour withal. But all these\neffects proceed from heat. Now there are some that say, when the sap\nof this tree thrown into milk curds it, that this effect does not arise\nfrom the irregular figures of the parts of the milk, which the sap joins\nand (as it were) sticks together, the smooth and globose parts being\nsqueezed out, but that by its heat it loosens the unstable and watery\nparts of the liquid body. And we may use as a proof the unprofitableness\nof the sap of this tree, which, though it is very sweet, yet makes the\nworst liquor in the world. For it is not the inequality in the parts\nthat affects the smooth part, but what is cold and raw is stopped by\nheat. And salt help to do this; for it is hot, and works contrary to the\nuniting of the parts just mentioned, causing rather a dissolution; for\nto it, above all other things, Nature has given a dissolving faculty.\nTherefore the fig-tree sends forth a hot and sharp spirit, which cuts\nand boils the flesh of the bird. The very same thing may be effected\nby placing the flesh upon a heap of corn, or near nitre; the heat will\nproduce the same that the fig-tree did. Now it may be made manifest that\nwheat is naturally hot, in that wine, put into a hogshead and placed\namong wheat, is presently consumed.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VII.\n\nThe Romans, Sossius Senecio, remember a pretty saying of a\npleasant man and good companion, who supping alone said that he had\neaten to-day, but not supped; as if a supper always wanted company and\nagreement to make it palatable and pleasing. Evenus said that fire was\nthe sweetest of all sauces in the world. And Homer calls salt [Greek\nomitted], divine; and most call it [Greek omitted], graces, because,\nmixed with most part of our food, it makes it palatable and agreeable to\nthe taste. Now indeed the best and most divine sauce that can be at an\nentertainment or a supper is a familiar and pleasant friend; not because\nhe eats and drinks with a man, but because he participates of and\ncommunicates discourse, especially if the talk be profitable, pertinent,\nand instructive. For commonly loose talk over a glass of wine raiseth\npassions and spoils company, and therefore it is fit that we should be\nas critical in examining what discourses as what friends are fit to be\nadmitted to a supper; not following either the saying or opinion of\nthe Spartans, who, when they entertained any young man or a stranger in\ntheir public halls, showed him the door, with these words, \"No discourse\ngoes out this way.\" What we use to talk of may be freely disclosed\nto everybody, because we have nothing in our discourses that tends to\nlooseness, debauchery, debasing of ourselves, or back-biting others.\nJudge by the examples, of which this seventh book contains ten.\n\n\nQUESTION I. AGAINST THOSE WHO FIND FAULT WITH PLATO FOR SAYING THAT\nDRINK PASSETH THROUGH THE LUNGS.\n\n\nNICIAS, PLUTARCH, PROTOGENES, FLORUS.\n\nAt a summer entertainment, one of the company pronounced that common\nverse,\n\n     Now drench thy lungs with wine, the Dog appears.\n\nAnd Nicias of Nicopolis, a physician, presently subjoined: It is no\nwonder that Alcaeus, a poet, should be ignorant of that of which Plato\nthe philosopher was. Though Alcaeus may be defended; for it is probable\nthat the lungs, lying near the stomach, may participate of the steam\nof the liquor, and be drenched with it. But the philosopher, expressly\ndelivering that most part of our drink passeth through the lungs, hath\nprecluded all ways of excuse to those that would be willing to defend\nhim. For it is a very great and complicated ignorance; for first, it\nbeing necessary that our liquid and dry food should be mixed, it is very\nprobable that the stomach is the vessel for them both, which throws out\nthe dry food after it is grown soft and moist into the guts. Besides,\nthe lungs being a dense and compacted body, how is it possible that,\nwhen we sup gruel or the like, the thicker parts should pass through\nthem? And this was the objection which Erasistratus rationally made\nagainst Plato. Besides, when he considered for what end every part of\nthe body was made, and what use Nature designed in their contrivance, it\nwas easy to perceive that the epiglottis was framed on purpose that when\nwe drink the windpipe should be shut, and nothing be suffered to fall\nupon the lungs. For if anything by chance gets down that way, we are\ntroubled with retching and coughing till it is thrown up again. And this\nepiglottis being framed so that it may fall on either side, whilst we\nspeak it shuts the weasand, but when we eat or drink it falls upon the\nwindpipe, and so secures the passage for our breath. Besides, we know\nthat those who drink by little and little are looser than those who\ndrink greedily and large draughts; for in the latter the very force\ndrives it into their bladders, but in the former it stays, and by its\nstay is mixed with and moistens the meat thoroughly. Now this could not\nbe, if in the very drinking the liquid was separated from the dry food;\nbut the effect follows, because we mix and convey them both together,\nusing (as Erasistratus phraseth it) the liquid as a vehicle for the dry.\n\nNicias having done, Protogenes the grammarian subjoined, that Homer was\nthe first that observed the stomach was the vessel of the food, and the\nwindpipe (which the ancients called [Greek omitted] of the breath,\nand upon the same account they called those who had loud voices [Greek\nomitted]). And when he describes how Achilles killed Hector, he says,\n\n     He pierced his weasand, where death enters soon;\n\nand adds,\n\n     But not his windpipe, so that he could speak,\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxii. 325-329.)\n\ntaking the windpipe for the proper passage of the speech and breath....\n\nUpon this, all being silent, Florus began thus: What, shall we tamely\nsuffer Plato to be run down? By no means, said I, for if we desert him,\nHomer must be in the same condition, for he is so far from denying the\nwindpipe to be the passage for our drink, that the dry food, in his\nopinion, goes the same way. For these are his words:--\n\n     From his gullet [Greek omitted] flowed\n     The clotted wine and undigested flesh.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" ix. 373.)\n\nUnless perchance you will say that the Cyclops, as he had but one eye,\nso had but one passage for his food and voice; or would have [Greek\nomitted] to signify weasand, not windpipe, as both all the ancients and\nmoderns use it. I produce this because it is really his meaning, not\nbecause I want other testimonies, for Plato hath store of learned and\nsufficient men to join with him. For not to mention Eupolis, who in his\nplay called the \"Flatterers\" says,\n\n     Protagoras bids us drink a lusty bowl,\n     That when the Dog appears our lungs may still be moist;\n\nor elegant Eratosthenes, who says,\n\n     And having drenched his lungs with purest wine;\n\neven Euripides, somewhere expressly saying,\n\n     The wine passed through the hollows of the lungs,\n\nshows that he saw better and clearer than Erasistratus. For he saw that\nthe lungs have cavities and pores, through which the liquids pass. For\nthe breath in expiration hath no need of pores, but that the liquids and\nthose things which pass with them might go through, it is made like a\nstrainer and full of pores. Besides, sir, as to the example of gruel\nwhich you proposed, the lungs can discharge themselves of the thicker\nparts together with the thin, as well as the stomach. For our stomach\nis not, as some fancy, smooth and slippery, but full of asperities, in\nwhich it is probable that the thin and small particles are lodged,\nand so not taken quite down. But neither this nor the other can\nwe positively affirm; for the curious contrivance of Nature in her\noperation is too hard to be explained; nor can we be particularly exact\nupon those instruments (I mean the spirit and the heat) which she makes\nuse of in her works. But besides those we have mentioned to confirm\nPlato's opinion, let us produce Philistion of Locri, very ancient and\nvery famous physician, and Hippocrates too, with his disciple Dioxippus;\nfor they thought of no other passage but that which Plato mentions. Dio\nsays, that when we feed, the moist parts are about that separated from\nthe dry, and the first are carried down the windpipe, the other down the\nweasand; and that the windpipe receives no parts of the food, but the\nstomach, together with the dry parts, receives some portion of the\nliquids. And this is probable, for the epiglottis lies over the\nwindpipe, as a fence and strainer, that the drink may get in by little\nand little, lest descending in a large full stream, it stop the breath\nand endanger the life. And therefore birds have no epiglottis, because\nthey do not sup or lap when they drink, but take up a little in their\nbeak, and let it run gently down their windpipe.\n\nThese testimonies I think are enough; and reason confirms Plato's\nopinion by arguments drawn first from sense. For when the windpipe is\nwounded, no drink will go down; but as if the pipe were broken it runs\nout, though the weasand be whole and unhurt. And all know that in the\ninflammation of the lungs the patient is troubled with extreme thirst;\nthe heat or dryness or some other cause, together with the inflammation,\nmaking the appetite intense. But a stronger evidence than all these\nfollows. Those creatures that have very small lungs, or none at all,\nneither want nor desire drink, because to some parts there belongs a\nnatural appetite to drink, and those that want those parts have no need\nto drink, nor any appetite to be supplied by it. But more, the bladder\nwould seem unnecessary; for, if the weasand receives both meat and drink\nand conveys it to the belly, the superfluous parts of the liquids would\nnot want a proper passage, one common one would suffice as a canal for\nboth that were conveyed to the same vessel by the same passage. But now\nthe bladder is distinct from the guts, because the drink goes from the\nlungs, and the meat from the stomach; they being separated as we take\nthem down. And this is the reason that in our water nothing can be found\nthat either in smell or color resembles dry food. But if the drink were\nmixed with the dry meat in the belly, it must be impregnant with its\nqualities, and not come forth so simple and untinged. Besides, a stone\nis never found in the stomach, though it is likely that the moisture\nshould be coagulated there as well as in the bladder, if all the\nliquor were conveyed through the weasand then into the belly. But it is\nprobable at the weasand robs the windpipe of a sufficient quantity of\nliquor as it is going down, and useth it to soften and concoct the\nmeat. And therefore its excrement is never purely liquid; and the lungs,\ndisposing of the moisture, as of the breath, to all of the parts that\nwant it, deposit the superfluous portion in the bladder. And I am sure\nthat this is a much more probable opinion than the other. But which is\nthe truth cannot perhaps be discovered, and therefore it is not fit\nso peremptorily to find fault with the most acute and most famed\nphilosopher, especially when the matter is so obscure, and the\nPlatonists can produce such considerable reasons for their position.\n\n\n\nQUESTION II. WHAT HUMORED MAN IS HE THAT PLATO CALLS [Greek omitted]?\nAND WHY DO THOSE SEEDS THAT FALL ON THE OXEN'S HORNS BECOME [Greek\nomitted]?\n\nPLUTARCH, PATROCLES, EUTHYDEMUS, FLORUS.\n\nWe had always some difficulty started about [Greek omitted] and [Greek\nomitted], not what humor those words signified (for it is certain that\nsome, thinking that those seeds which fall on the oxen's horns bear\nfruit which is very hard, did by a metaphor call a stiff untractable\nfellow by these names), but what was the cause that seeds falling on the\noxen's horns should bear hard fruit. I had often desired my friends to\nsearch no farther, most of all fearing the passage of Theophrastus, in\nwhich he has collected many things whose causes we cannot discover. Such\nare the hen's using a straw to purify herself with after she has laid,\nthe seal's consuming her rennet when she is caught, the deer's burying\nhis horns, and the goat's stopping the whole herd by holding a branch of\nsea-holly in his mouth; and among the rest he reckoned this is a thing\nof which we are certain, but whose cause it is very difficult to find.\nBut once at supper at Delphi, some of my companions--as if we were not\nonly better counsellors when our bellies are full (as one hath it),\nbut wine would make us brisker in our inquiries and bolder in our\nresolutions desired me to speak somewhat to that problem.\n\nI refused, though I had some excellent men on my side, namely,\nEuthydemus my fellow-priest, and Patrocles my relative, who brought\nseveral the like instances, which they had gathered both from husbandry\nand hunting; for instance, that those officers that are appointed to\nwatch the coming of the hail avert the storm by offering a mole's blood\nor a woman's cloths; that a wild fig being bound to a garden fig-tree\nwill keep the fruit from falling and promote their ripening; that deer\nwhen they are taken shed salt tears, and boars sweet. But if you have a\nmind to such questions, Euthydemus will presently desire you to give an\naccount of smallage and cummin; one of the which, if trodden down as\nit springs, will grow the better, and the other men curse and blaspheme\nwhilst they sow it.\n\nThis last Florus thought to be an idle foolery; but he said, that we\nshould not forbear to search into the causes of the other things as if\nthey were incomprehensible. I have found, said I, your design to draw me\non to this discourse, that you yourself may afterward give us a solution\nof the other proposed difficulties.\n\nIn my opinion it is cold that causes this hardness in corn and pulse,\nby contracting and constipating their parts till the substance becomes\nclose and extremely rigid; while heat is a dissolving and softening\nquality. And therefore those that cite this verse against Homer,\n\n     The season, not the field, bears fruit,\n\ndo not justly reprehend him. For fields that are warm by nature, the\nair being likewise temperate, bear more mellow fruit than others. And\ntherefore those seeds that fall immediately on the earth out of the\nsower's hand, and are covered presently, and cherished by being covered,\npartake more of the moisture and heat that is in the earth. But those\nthat strike against the oxen's horns do not enjoy what Hesiod names the\nbest position, but seem to be scattered rather than sown; and therefore\nthe cold either destroys them quite, or else, lighting upon them as they\nlie naked, condenseth their moisture, and makes them hard and woody.\nThus stones that lie under ground and, plant-animals have softer parts\nthan those that lie above; and therefore stone-cutters bury the stones\nthey would work, as if they designed to have them prepared and softened\nby the heat; but those that lie above ground are by the cold made hard,\nrigid, and very hurtful to the tools. And if corn lies long upon the\nfloor, the grains become much harder than that which is presently\ncarried away. And sometimes too a cold wind blowing whilst they winnow\nspoils the corn, as it hath happened at Philippi in Macedonia; and the\nchaff secures the grains whilst on the floor. For is it any wonder that\nas husband-men affirm, one ridge will bear soft and fruitful, and the\nvery next to it hard and unfruitful corn or--which is stranger--that\nin the same bean-cod some beans are of this sort, some of the other, as\nmore or less wind and moisture falls upon this or that?\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. WHY THE MIDDLE OF WINE, THE TOP OF OIL, AND THE BOTTOM OF\nHONEY IS BEST.\n\nALEXION, PLUTARCH, AND OTHERS.\n\nMy father-in-law Alexion laughed at Hesiod, for advising us to drink\nfreely when the barrel is newly broached or almost out, but moderately\nwhen it is about the middle, since there is the best wine. For who,\nsaid he, doth not know, that the middle of wine, the top of oil, and the\nbottom of honey is the best? Yet he bids us spare the middle, and stay\ntill worse wine runs, when the barrel is almost out. This said, the\ncompany minded Hesiod no more, but began to inquire into the cause of\nthis difference.\n\nWe were not at all puzzled about the honey, everybody almost knowing\nthat that which is lightest is so because it is rare, and that the\nheaviest parts are dense and compact, and by reason of their weight\nsettle below the others. So, if you turn the vessel, each in a little\ntime will recover its proper place, the heavier subsiding, and the\nlighter rising above the rest. And as for the wine, probable solutions\npresently appeared; for its strength consisting in heat, it is\nreasonable that it should be contained chiefly in the middle, and there\nbest preserved; for the lower parts the lees spoil, and the upper are\nimpaired by the neighboring air. For that the air will impair wine no\nman doubts, and therefore we usually bury or cover our barrels, that\nas little air as can be might come near them. And besides (which is an\nevident sign) a barrel when full is not spoiled so soon as when it is\nhalf empty; because a great deal of air getting into the empty space\ntroubles and disturbs the liquor, whereas the wine that is in the\nunemptied cask is preserved and defended by itself, not admitting much\nof the external air, which is apt to injure and corrupt it.\n\nBut the oil gave us the most difficulty. One thought that the bottom of\nthe oil was affected, because it was foul and troubled with the lees;\nand that the top was not really better than the rest, but only seemed\nso, because it was farthest removed from those corrupting particles.\nOthers thought the thickness of the liquor to be the reason, which\nthickness keeps it from mixing with other humids, unless blended\ntogether and shaken violently; and therefore it will not mix with air,\nbut keeps it off by its smoothness and close contexture, so that it hath\nno power to corrupt it. But Aristotle seems to be against this opinion,\nwho hath observed that oil grows sweeter by being kept in vessels not\nexactly filled, and afterwards ascribes this melioration to the air; for\nmore air, and therefore more powerful to produce the effect, flows into\na vessel not well filled.\n\nWell then! said I, the same quality in the air may spoil wine, and\nbetter oil. For long keeping improves wine, but spoils oil. Now the air\nkeeps oil from growing old; for that which is cooled continues fresh\nand new, but that which is kept close up, having no way to exhale its\ncorrupting parts, presently decays, and grows old. Therefore it is\nprobable that the air coming upon the superficies of the oil keepeth it\nfresh and new. And this is the reason that the top of wine is worst, and\nof oil best; because age betters the one, and spoils the other.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHAT WAS, THE REASON OF THAT CUSTOM OF THE ANCIENT ROMANS\nTO REMOVE THE TABLE BEFORE ALL THE MEAT WAS EATEN, AND NOT TO PUT OUT\nTHE LAMP?\n\nFLORUS, EUSTROPHUS, CAESERNIUS, LUCIUS.\n\nFlorus, who observed the ancient manners, would not let the table\nbe removed quite empty, but always left some meat upon it; declaring\nlikewise that his father and grandfather were not only curious in this\nmatter, but would never suffer the lamp after supper to be put out,--a\nthing about which the ancient Romans were very careful,--while those of\nto-day put it out immediately after supper, that they may lose no oil.\nEustrophus the Athenian being present said: What could they get by that,\nunless they knew the cunning trick of our Polycharmus, who, after long\ndeliberation how to find out a way to prevent the servants' stealing of\nthe oil, at last with a great deal of difficulty happened upon this: As\nsoon as you have put out the lamp, fill it up, and the next morning look\ncarefully whether it remains full. Then Florus with a smile replied:\nWell, since we are agreed about that, let us inquire for what reason the\nancients were so careful about their tables and their lamps.\n\nFirst, about the lamps. And his son-in-law Caesernius was of opinion\nthat the ancients abominated all extinction of fire, because of the\nrelation that it had to the sacred and eternal flame. Fire, like man,\nmay be destroyed two ways, either when it is violently quenched, or\nwhen it naturally decays. The sacred fire was secured against both ways,\nbeing always watched and continually supplied; but the common fire they\npermitted to go out of itself, not forcing or violently extinguishing\nit, but not supplying it with nourishment, like a useless beast, that\nthey might not feed it to no purpose.\n\nLucius, Florus's son, subjoined, that all the rest of the discourse was\nvery good, but that they did not reverence and take care of this holy\nfire because they thought it better or more venerable than other fire;\nbut, as amongst the Egyptians some worship the whole species of dogs,\nwolves, or crocodiles, yet keep but one wolf, dog, or crocodile (for all\ncould not be kept), so the particular care which the ancients took of\nthe sacred fire was only a sign of the respect they had for all fires.\nFor nothing bears such a resemblance to an animal as fire. It is moved\nand nourished by itself, and by its brightness, like the soul, discovers\nand makes everything apparent; but in its quenching it principally shows\nsome power that seems to proceed from our vital principle, for it makes\na noise and resists, like an animal dying or violently slaughtered. And\ncan you (looking upon me) offer any better reason?\n\nI can find fault, replied I, with no part of the discourse, yet I would\nsubjoin, that this custom is an instruction for kindness and good-will.\nFor it is not lawful for any one that hath eaten sufficiently to\ndestroy the remainder of the food; nor for him that hath supplied his\nnecessities from the fountain to stop it up; nor for him that hath made\nuse of any marks, either by sea or land, to ruin or deface them; but\nevery one ought to leave those things that may be useful to those\npersons that afterwards may have need of them. Therefore it is not fit,\nout of a saving covetous humor, to put out a lamp as soon as we need it\nnot; but we ought to preserve and let it burn for the use of those that\nperhaps want its light. Thus, it would be very generous to lend our ears\nand eyes, nay, if possible, our reason and understanding, to others,\nwhilst we are idle or asleep. Besides, consider whether to stir up men\nto gratitude these minute observances were practised. The ancients\ndid not act absurdly when they highly reverenced an oak. The Athenians\ncalled one fig-tree sacred, and forbade any one to cut down an\nolive. For such observances do not (as some fancy) make men prone to\nsuperstition, but persuade us to be communicative and grateful to one\nanother, by being accustomed to pay this respect to these senseless and\ninanimate creatures. Upon the same reason Hesiod, methinks, adviseth\nwell, who would not have any meat or broth set on the table out of those\npots out of which there had been no portion offered, but ordered the\nfirst-fruits to be given to the fire, as a reward for the service it did\nin preparing it. And the Romans, dealing well with the lamps, did not\ntake away the nourishment they had once given, but permitted them to\nlive and shine by it.\n\nWhen I had said thus, Eustrophus subjoined: This gives us some light\ninto that query about the table; for they thought that they ought to\nleave some portion of the supper for the servants and waiters, for those\nare not so well pleased with a supper provided for them apart, as with\nthe relics of their master's table. And upon this account, they say,\nthe Persian king did not only send portions from his own table to his\nfriends, captains, and gentlemen of his bed-chamber, but had always what\nwas provided for his servants and his dogs served up to his own table;\nthat as far as possible all those creatures whose service was useful\nmight seem to be his guests and companions. For, by such feeding in\ncommon and participation, the wildest of beasts might be made tame and\ngentle.\n\nThen I with a smile said: But, sir, that fish there, that according to\nthe proverb is laid up, why do not we bring out into play together with\nPythagoras's choenix, which he forbids any man to sit upon, thereby\nteaching us that we ought to leave something of what we have before us\nfor another time, and on the present day be mindful of the morrow?\nWe Boeotians use to have that saying frequently in our mouths, \"Leave\nsomething for the Medes,\" ever since the Medes overran and spoiled\nPhocis and the marches of Boeotia; but still, and upon all occasions,\nwe ought to have that ready, \"Leave something for the guests that may\ncome.\" And therefore I must needs find fault with that always empty and\nstarving table of Achilles; for, when Ajax and Ulysses came ambassadors\nto him, he had nothing ready, but was forced out of hand to dress\na fresh supper. And when he would entertain Priam, he again bestirs\nhimself, kills a white ewe, joints and dresses it, and in that work\nspent a great part of the night. But Eumaeus (a wise scholar of a wise\nmaster) had no trouble upon him when Telemachus came home, but presently\ndesired him to sit down, and feasted him, setting before him dishes of\nboiled meat,\n\n     The cleanly reliques of the last night's feast.\n\nBut if this seems trifling, and a small matter, I am sure it is no small\nmatter to command and restrain appetite while there are dainties before\nyou to satisfy and please it. For those that are used to abstain from\nwhat is present are not so eager for absent things as others are.\n\nLucius subjoining said, that he had heard his grandmother say, that the\ntable was sacred, and nothing that is sacred ought to be empty. Beside\n[omitted]. Therefore as we desire that the earth should always have and\nbear something that is useful for us, so we think that we should not let\nthe table be altogether empty and void of all provision.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. THAT WE OUGHT CAREFULLY TO PRESERVE OURSELVES FROM PLEASURES\nARISING FROM BAD MUSIC AND HOW IT MAY BE DONE.\n\nCALLISTRATUS, LAMPRIAS.\n\nAt the Pythian games Callistratus, procurator of the Amphictyons,\nforbade a piper, his citizen and friend, who did not give in his name in\ndue time, to appear in the solemnity, according to the law. But afterward\nvery fine tune; but afterwards, having tickled and sounded the humor\nof the whole company, and found that most were inclined to pleasure\nand would suffer him to play what effeminate and lascivious tunes he\npleased, throwing aside all modesty, he showed that music was more\nintoxicating than wine to those that wantonly and unskilfully use it.\nFor they were not content to sit still and applaud and clap, but many at\nlast leaped from their seats, danced lasciviously, and made such gentle\nsteps as became such effeminate and mollifying tunes. But after they\nhad done, and the company, as it were recovered of its madness, began\nto come to itself again, Lamprias would have spoken to and severely chid\nthe young men; but as fearing he would be too harsh and give offence,\nCallistratus gave him a hint, and drew him on by this discourse:--\n\nFor my part, I absolve all lovers of shows and music from intemperance;\nyet I cannot altogether agree with Aristoxenus, who says that those\npleasures alone deserve the approbation \"fine.\" For we call viands\nand ointments fine; and we say we have finely dined, when we have been\nsplendidly entertained. Nor, in my opinion, doth Aristotle free those\ncomplacencies we take in shows and songs upon good reason from the\ncharge of excess, saying, that those belong peculiarly to man, and of\nother pleasures beasts have a share. For I am certain that a great many\nirrational creatures are delighted with music, as deer with pipes;\nand to mares, whilst they are horsing, they play a tune called [Greek\nomitted]. And Pindar says, that his songs make him move,\n\n     As brisk as Dolphins, whom a charming tune\n     Hath raised from th' bottom of the quiet flood.\n\nAnd certain fish are taken by means of dancing; for as the dance goes on\nthey lift up their heads above water, being much pleased and delighted\nwith the sight, and twisting their backs this way and that way, in\nimitation of the dancers. Therefore I see nothing peculiar in those\npleasures, that they should be accounted proper to the mind, and all\nothers to belong to the body, so far as to end there. But music, rhythm,\ndancing, song, passing through the sense, fix a pleasure and titilation\nin the sportive part of the soul and therefore none of these pleasures\nis enjoyed in secret, nor wants darkness nor walls about it, according\nto the women's phrase; but circuses and theatres are built for them.\nAnd to frequent shows and music-meetings with company is both more\ndelightful and more genteel; because we take a great many witnesses,\nnot of a luxurious and intemperate, but of a pleasant and respectable,\nmanner of passing away our time.\n\nUpon this discourse of Callistratus, my father Lamprias, seeing the\nmusicians grow bolder, said: That is not the reason, sir, and, in my\nopinion, the ancients were much out when they named Bacchus the son of\nForgetfulness. They ought to have called him his father; for it seems\nhe hath made you forget that of those faults which are committed about\npleasures some proceed from a loose intemperate inclination, and others\nfrom heedlessness or ignorance. Where the ill effect is very plain,\nthere intemperate inclination captivates reason, and forces men to sin;\nbut where the just reward of intemperance is not directly and presently\ninflicted, there ignorance of the danger and heedlessness make men\neasily wrought oil and secure. Therefore those that are vicious, either\nin eating, drinking, or venery, which diseases, wasting of estates,\nand evil reports usually attend, we call intemperate. For instance,\nTheodectes, who having sore eyes, when his mistress came to see him,\nsaid,\n\n     All hail, delightful light;\n\nor Anaxarchus the Abderite,\n\n     A wretch who knew what evils wait on sin,\n     Yet love of pleasure drove him back again.\n     Once almost free, he sank again to vice,\n     That terror and disturber of the wise.\n\nNow those that take all care possible to secure themselves from all\nthose pleasures that assault them either at the smelling, touch,\nor taste, are often surprised by those that make their treacherous\napproaches either at the eye or ear. But such, though as much led\naway as the others, we do not in like manner call incontinent and\nintemperate, since they are ruined through ignorance and want of\nexperience. For they imagine they are far from being slaves to\npleasures, if they can stay all day in the theatre without meat or\ndrink; as if a pot forsooth should be mighty proud that a man cannot\ntake it up by the bottom or the belly and carry it away, though he can\neasily do it by the ears. And therefore Agesilaus said, it was all one\nwhether a man were a CINOEDUS before or behind. We ought principally to\ndread those softening delights that please and tickle through the eyes\nand ears, and not think that city not taken which hath all its other\ngates secured by bars, portcullises, and chains, if the enemies\nare already entered through one and have taken possession; or fancy\nourselves invincible against the assaults of pleasure, because stews\nwill not provoke us, when the music-meeting or theatre prevails. For\nwe in one case as much as the other resign up our souls to the\nimpetuousness of pleasures, which pouring in those potions of songs,\ncadences, and tunes, more powerful and bewitching than the best mixtures\nof the most skilful cook or perfumer, conquer and corrupt us; and in the\nmeantime, by our own confession as it were, the fault is chiefly ours.\nNow, as Pindar saith, nothing that the earth and sea hath provided for\nour tables can be justly blamed; but neither our meat nor broth, nor\nthis excellent wine which we drink, hath raised such a noisy tumultous\npleasure as those songs and tunes did, which not only filled the house\nwith clapping and shouting, but perhaps the whole town. Therefore we\nought principally to secure ourselves against such delights, because\nthey are more powerful than others; as not being terminated in the body,\nlike those which allure the touch, taste, or smelling, but affecting\nthe very intellectual and judging faculties. Besides, from most other\ndelights, though reason doth not free us, yet other passions very\ncommonly divert us. Sparing niggardliness will keep a glutton from\ndainty fish, and covetousness will confine a lecher from a costly whore.\nAs in one of Menander's plays, where every one of the company was to\nbe enticed by the bawd who brought out a surprising whore, but each of\nthem, though all boon companions,\n\n     Sat sullenly, and fed upon his cates.\n\nFor to pay interest for money is a severe punishment that follows\nintemperance, and to open our purses is no easy matter. But these\npleasures that are called genteel, and solicit the ears or eyes of those\nthat are frantic after shows and music, may be had without any charge at\nall, in every place almost, and upon every occasion; they may be enjoyed\nat the prizes, in the theatre, or at entertainments, at others cost. And\ntherefore those that have not their reason to assist and guide them may\nbe easily spoiled.\n\nSilence following upon this, What application, said I, shall reason\nmake, or how shall it assist? For I do not think it will apply those\near-covers of Xenocrates, or force us to rise from the table as soon as\nwe hear a harp struck or a pipe blown. No indeed, replied Lamprias, but\nas soon as we meet with the foresaid intoxications, we ought to make our\napplication to the Muses, and fly to the Helicon of the ancients. To him\nthat loves a costly strumpet, we cannot bring a Panthea or Penelope\nfor cure; but one that delights in mimics and buffoons, loose odes, or\ndebauched songs, we can bring to Euripides, Pindar, and Menander, that\nhe might wash (as Plato phraseth it) his salt hearing with fresh reason.\nAs the exorcists command the possessed to read over and pronounce\nEphesian letters, so we in those possessions, during the madness of\nmusic and the dance, when\n\n     We toss our hands with noise, and madly shout,\n\nremembering those venerable and sacred writings, and comparing with them\nthose odes, poems, and vain empty compositions, shall not be altogether\ncheated by them, or permit ourselves to be carried away sidelong, as by\na smooth and undisturbed stream.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. CONCERNING THOSE GUESTS THAT ARE CALLED SHADOWS, AND\nWHETHER BEING INVITED BY SOME TO GO TO ANOTHER'S HOUSE, THEY OUGHT TO\nGO; AND WHEN, AND TO WHOM.\n\nPLUTARCH, FLORUS, CAESERNIUS.\n\nHomer makes Menelaus come uninvited to his brother Agamemnon's treat,\nwhen he feasted the commanders;\n\n     For well he knew great cares his brother vexed.\n     (\"Iliad,\" ii. 409.)\n\nHe did not take notice of the plain and evident omission of his brother,\nor show his resentments by not coming, as some surly testy persons\nusually do upon such oversights of their best friends; yet they had\nrather be overlooked than particularly invited, that they may have some\ncolor for their pettish anger. But about the introduced guests (which we\ncall shadows) who are not invited by the entertainer, but by some others\nof the guests, a question was started, from whom that custom began. Some\nthought from Socrates, who persuaded Aristodemus, who was not invited,\nto go along with him to Agatho's, where there happened a pretty jest.\nFor Socrates by chance staying somewhat behind, Aristodemus went in\nfirst; and this seemed very appropriate, for, the sun shining on their\nbacks, the shadow ought to go before the body. Afterwards it was thought\nnecessary at all entertainments, especially of great men, when the\ninviter did not know their favorites and acquaintance, to desire the\ninvited to bring his company, appointing such a set number, lest they\nshould be put to the same shifts which he was put to who invited King\nPhilip to his country-house. The king came with a numerous attendance,\nbut the provision was not equal to the company. Therefore, seeing his\nentertainer much cast down, he sent some about to tell his friends\nprivately, that they should keep one corner of their bellies for a large\ncake that was to come. And they, expecting this, fed sparingly on the\nmeat that was set before them, so that the provision seemed sufficient\nfor them all.\n\nWhen I had talked thus waggishly to the company Florus had a mind to\ntalk gravely concerning these shadows, and have it discussed whether\nit was fit for those that were so invited to go, or no. His son-in-law\nCaesernius was positively against it. We should, says he, following\nHesiod's advice,\n\n     Invite a friend to feast,\n     (\"Works and Days,\" 342.)\n\nor at least we should have our acquaintance and familiars to participate\nof our entertainments, mirth, and discourse over a glass of wine; but\nnow, as ferry-men permit their passengers to bring in what fardel they\nplease, so we permit others to fill our entertainments with any persons,\nlet them be good companions or not. And I should wonder that any man of\nbreeding being so (that is, not at all) invited, should go; since, for\nthe most part, he must be unacquainted with the entertainer, or if he\nwas acquainted, was not thought worthy to be bidden. Nay, he should be\nmore ashamed to go to such a one, if he considers that it will look\nlike an upbraiding of his unkindness, and yet a rude intruding into his\ncompany against his will. Besides, to go before or after the guest that\ninvites him must look unhandsomely, nor is it creditable to go and stand\nin need of witnesses to assure the guests that he doth not come as a\nprincipally invited person, but such a one's shadow. Besides, to attend\nothers bathing or anointing, to observe his hour, whether he goes\nearly or late, is servile and gnathonical (for there never was such an\nexcellent fellow as Gnatho to feed at another man's table). Besides, if\nthere is no more proper time and place to say,\n\n     Speak, tongue, if thou wilt utter jovial things,\n\nthan at a feast, and freedom and raillery is mixed with everything\nthat is either done or said over a glass of wine, how should he behave\nhimself, who is not a true principally invited guest, but as it were a\nbastard and supposititious intruder? For whether he is free or not, he\nlies open to the exception of the company. Besides, the very meanness\nand vileness of the name is no small evil to those who do not resent it\nbut can quietly endure to be called and answer to the name of shadows.\nFor, by enduring such base names, men are insensibly accustomed and\ndrawn on to base actions. Therefore, when I make an invitation, for it\nis hard to break the custom of a place, I give my guests leave to bring\nshadows; but when I myself am invited as a shadow, I assure you I refuse\nto go.\n\nA short silence followed this discourse; then Florus began thus: This\nlast thing you mentioned, sir, is a greater difficulty than the other.\nFor it is necessary when we invite our friends to give them liberty to\nchoose their own shadows, as was before hinted; for to entertain them\nwithout their friends is not very obliging, nor is it very easy to know\nwhom the person we invite would be most pleased with. Then said I to\nhim: Consider therefore whether those that give their friends this\nlicense to invite do not at the same time give the invited license to\naccept the invitation and come to the entertainment. For it is not fit\neither to allow or to desire another to do that which is not decent\nto be done, or to urge and persuade to that which no one ought to\nbe persuaded or to consent to do. When we entertain a great man or\nstranger, there we cannot invite or choose his company, but must receive\nthose that come along with him. But when we feast a friend, it will be\nmore acceptable if we ourselves invite all, as knowing his acquaintance\nand familiars; for it tickles him extremely to see that others take\nnotice that he hath chiefly a respect for such and such, loves their\ncompany most, and is well pleased when they are honored and invited as\nwell as he. Yet sometimes we must deal with our friend as petitioners do\nwhen they make addresses to a god; they offer vows to all that belong\nto the same altar and the same shrine, though they make no particular\nmention of their names. For no dainties, wine, or ointment can incline\na man to merriment, as much as a pleasant agreeable companion. For as\nit is rude and ungenteel to inquire and ask what sort of meat, wine,\nor ointment the person whom we are to entertain loves best; so it is\nneither disobliging nor absurd to desire him who hath a great many\nacquaintance to bring those along with him whose company he likes most,\nand in whose conversation he can take the greatest pleasure. For it is\nnot so irksome and tedious to sail in the same ship, to dwell in the\nsame house, or be a judge upon the same bench, with a person whom we do\nnot like, as to be at the same table with him; and the contrary is\nfully as pleasant. An entertainment is a communion of serious or merry\ndiscourse or actions; and therefore, to make a merry company, we should\nnot pick up any person at a venture, but take only such as are known to\none another and sociable. Cooks, it is true, mix sour and sweet juices,\nrough and oily, to make their sauces; but there never was an agreeable\ntable or pleasant entertainment where the guests were not all of a\npiece, and all of the same humor. Now, as the Peripatetics say, the\nfirst mover in nature moves only and is not moved, and the last moved\nis moved only but does not move, and between these there is that which\nmoves and is moved by others; so there is the same analogy between those\nthree sorts of persons that make up a company,--there is the simple\ninviter, the simple invited and the invited that invites another. We\nhave spoken already concerning the inviter, and it will not be improper,\nin my opinion, to deliver my sentiments about the other two. He that\nis invited and invites others, should, in my opinion, be sparing in\nthe number that he brings. He should not, as if he were to forage in\nan enemy's country, carry all he can with him; or, like those who go to\npossess a new-found land, by the excessive number of his own friends,\nincommode or exclude the friends of the inviter, so that the inviter\nmust be in the same case with those that set forth suppers to Hecate\nand the gods who turn away evil, of which neither they nor any of their\nfamily partake, except of the smoke and trouble. It is true they only\nspeak in waggery that say,\n\n     He that at Delphi offers sacrifice\n     Must after meat for his own dinner buy.\n\nBut the same thing really happens to him who entertains ill-bred guests\nor acquaintances, who with a great many shadows, as it were harpies,\ntear and devour his provision. Besides, he should not take anybody that\nhe may come upon along with him to another's entertainment, but chiefly\nthe entertainer's acquaintance, as it were contending with him and\npreceding him in the invitation. But if that cannot be effected, let him\ncarry such of his own friends as the entertainer would choose himself;\nto a civil modest man, some of complaisant humor; to a learned man,\ningenuous persons; to a man that hath borne office, some of the same\nrank; and, in short, such whose acquaintance he hath formerly sought and\nwould be now glad of. For it will be extremely pleasing and obliging to\nbring such into company together; but one who brings to a feast men who\nhave no likeness at all with the feast-maker, but who are entire aliens\nand strangers to him,--as hard drinkers to a sober man,--gluttons and\nsumptuous persons to a temperate thrifty entertainer,--or to a young,\nmerry, boon companion, grave old philosophers solemnly speaking in their\nbeards,--will be very disobliging, and turn all the intended mirth into\nan unpleasant sourness. The entertained should be as obliging to the\nentertainer as the entertainer to the entertained; and then he will be\nmost obliging, when not only he himself, but all those that come by his\nmeans, are pleasant and agreeable.\n\nThe last of the three which remains to be spoken of is he that is\ninvited by one man to another's feast. Now he that disdains and is so\nmuch offended at the name of a shadow will appear to be afraid of a mere\nshadow. But in this matter there is need of a great deal of caution,\nfor it is not creditable readily to go along with every one and to\neverybody. But first you must consider who it is that invites; for if he\nis not a very familiar friend, but a rich or great man, such who, as if\nupon a stage, wants a large or splendid retinue, or such who thinks that\nhe puts a great obligation upon you and does you a great deal of honor\nby this invitation, you must presently deny. But if he is your friend\nand particular acquaintance, you must not yield upon the first motion:\nbut if there seems a necessity for some conversation which cannot be put\noff till another time, or if he is lately come from a journey or designs\nto go on one, and out of mere good-will and affection seems desirous of\nyour company, and doth not desire to carry a great many, or strangers,\nbut only some few friends along with him; or, besides all this, if he\ndesigns to bring you thus invited acquainted with the principal inviter,\nwho is very worthy of your acquaintance, then consent and go. For as\nto ill-humored persons, the more they seize and take hold of us like\nthorns, we should endeavor to free ourselves from them or leap over them\nthe more. If he that invites is a civil and well-bred person, yet doth\nnot design to carry you to one of the same temper, you must refuse, lest\nyou should take poison in honey, that is, get the acquaintance of a bad\nman by an honest friend. It is absurd to go to one you do not know, and\nwith whom you never had any familiarity, unless, as I said before, the\nperson be an extraordinary man, and, by a civil waiting, upon him at\nanother man's invitation, you design to begin an acquaintance with him.\nAnd those friends you should chiefly go to as shadows, who would come to\nyou again in the same quality. To Philip the jester, indeed, he seemed\nmore ridiculous that came to a feast of his own accord than he that was\ninvited; but to well-bred and civil friends it is more obliging for men\nof the same temper to come at the nick of time with other friends, when\nuninvited and unexpected; at once pleasing both to those that invite and\nthose that entertain. But chiefly you must avoid going to rulers, rich\nor great men, lest you incur the deserved censure of being impudent,\nsaucy, rude, and unseasonably ambitious.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. WHETHER FLUTE-GIRLS ARE TO BE ALLOWED AT A FEAST?\n\nDIOGENIANUS, A SOPHIST, PHILIP.\n\nAt Chaeronea, Diogenianus the Pertamenian being present, we had a long\ndiscourse once at an entertainment about music; and we had a great deal\nof trouble to hold out against a great bearded sophister of the Stoic\nsect, who quoted Plato as blaming a company that admitted flute-girls\nand were not able to entertain one another with discourse. And Philip\nthe Prusian, of the same sect, said: Those guests of Agatho, whose\ndiscourse was more sweet than the sound of any pipe in the world, were\nno good authority in this case; for it was no wonder that in their\ncompany the flute-girl was not regarded; but it is strange that, in the\nmidst of the entertainment, the extreme pleasantness of the discourse\nhad not made them forget their meat and drink. Yet Xenophon thought\nit not indecent to bring in to Socrates, Antisthenes, and the like the\njester Philip; as Homer doth an onion to make the wine relish. And\nPlato brought in Aristophanes's discourse of love, as a comedy, into his\nentertainment; and at the last, as it were drawing all the curtains,\nhe shows a scene of the greatest variety imaginable,--Alcibiades drunk,\nfrolicking, and crowned. Then follows that pleasant raillery between him\nand Socrates concerning Agatho, and the encomium of Socrates; and when\nsuch discourse was going on, good gods! Had it not been allowable, if\nApollo himself had come in with his harp ready to desire the god to\nforbear till the argument was out? These men, having such a pleasant\nway of discoursing, used these arts and insinuating methods, and graced\ntheir entertainment's by such facetious raillery. But shall we, being\nmixed with tradesmen and merchants, and some (as it now and then\nhappens) ignorants and rustics, banish out of our entertainments this\nravishing delight, or fly the musicians, as if they were Sirens, as soon\nas we see them coming? Clitomachus the wrestler, rising and getting\naway when any one talked of love, was much wondered at; and should not\na philosopher that banisheth music from a feast, and is afraid of a\nmusician, and bids his link boy presently light his link and be gone, be\nlaughed at, since he seems to abominate the most innocent pleasures,\nas beetles do ointment? For, if at any time, certainly over a glass of\nwine, music should be permitted, and then chiefly the harmonious god\nshould have the direction of our souls; so that Euripides, though I like\nhim very well in other things, shall never persuade me that music, as\nhe would have it, should be applied to melancholy and grief. For there\nsober and serious reason, like a physician, should take care of the\ndiseased men; but those pleasures should be mixed with Bacchus, and\nserve to increase our mirth and frolic. Therefore it was a pleasant\nsaying of that Spartan at Athens, who, when some new tragedians were\nto contend for the prize, seeing the preparations of the masters of the\ndances, the hurry and busy diligence of the instructors, said, the city\nwas certainly mad which sported with so much pains. He that designs\nto sport should sport, and not buy his case and pleasure with great\nexpense, or the loss of that time which might be useful to other things;\nbut whilst he is feasting and free from business, those should be\nenjoyed. And it is advisable to try amidst our mirth, whether any profit\nis to be gotten from our delights.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHAT SORT OF MUSIC IS FITTEST FOR AN ENTERTAINMENT?\n\nDIOGENIANUS, A SOPHIST, PHILIP.\n\nWhen Philip had ended, I hindered the sophister from returning an answer\nto the discourse, and said: Let us rather inquire, Diogenianus,\nsince there are a great many sorts of music, which is fittest for an\nentertainment. And let us beg this learned man's judgment in this case;\nfor since he is not prejudiced or apt to be biased by any sort, there\nis no danger that he should prefer that which is pleasantest before that\nwhich is best. Diogenianus joining with me in this request, he presently\nbegan. All other sorts I banish to the theatre and playhouse, and can\nonly allow that which hath been lately admitted into the entertainments\nat Rome, and with which everybody is not yet acquainted. You know,\ncontinued he, that some of Plato's dialogues are purely narrative, and\nsome dramatic. The easiest of this latter sort they teach their children\nto speak by heart; making them to imitate the actions of those persons\nthey represent, and to form their voice and affections to be agreeable\nto the words. This all the grave and well-bred men exceedingly admire;\nbut soft and effeminate fellows, whose ears ignorance and ill-breeding\nhath corrupted, and who, as Aristoxenus phraseth it, are ready to\nvomit when they hear excellent harmony, reject it; and no wonder, when\neffeminacy prevails.\n\nPhilip, perceiving some of the company uneasy at this discourse, said:\nPray spare us, sir, and be not so severe upon us; for we were the first\nthat found fault with that custom when it first began to be countenanced\nin Rome, and reprehended those who thought Plato fit to entertain us\nwhilst we were making merry, and who would hear his dialogues whilst\nthey were eating cates and scattering perfumes. When Sappho's songs or\nAnaereon's verses are recited, I protest I think it decent to set\naside my cup. But should I proceed, perhaps you would think me much in\nearnest, and designing to oppose you, and therefore, together with this\ncup which I present my friend, I leave it to him to wash your salt ear\nwith fresh discourse.\n\nThen Diogenianus, taking the cup, said: Methinks this is very sober\ndiscourse, which makes me believe that the wine doth not please you,\nsince I see no effect of it; so that I fear I ought to be corrected.\nIndeed, many sorts of music are not to be rejected; first, tragedy,\nas having nothing familiar enough for an entertainment, and being a\nrepresentation of actions attended with grief and extremity of passion.\nI reject the sort of dancing which is called Pyladean from Pylades,\nbecause it is full of pomp, very pathetical, and requires a great many\npersons; but if we would admit any of those sorts that deserve those\nencomiums which Socrates mentions in his discourse about dancing, I like\nthat sort called Bathyllean, which requires not so high a motion, but\nhath something of the character of the Cordax, and resembles the motion\nof an Echo, a Pan, or a Satyr frolicking with love. Old comedy is not\nfit for men that are making merry, by reason of the excuses that appear\nin it; for that vehemency which they use in the parabasis is loud\nand indecent, and the liberty they take to scoff and abuse is very\nsurfeiting, too open, and full of filthy words and lewd expressions.\nBesides, as at great men's tables every man hath a servant waiting at\nhis elbow, so each of his guests would need a grammarian to sit by him,\nand explain who is Laespodias in Eupolis, Cinesias in Plato, and\nLampo in Cratinus, and who is each person that is jeered in the play.\nConcerning new comedy there is no need of any long discourse. It is so\nfitted, so interwoven with entertainments, that it is easier to have a\nregular feast without wine, than without Menander. Its phrase is sweet\nand familiar, the Humor innocent and easy, so that there is nothing\nfor men whilst sober to despise, or when merry to be troubled at. The\nsentiments are so natural and unstudied, that midst wine, as it were in\nfire, they soften and bend the rigidest temper to be pliable and easy.\nAnd the mixture of gravity and jests seems to be contrived for nothing\nso aptly as for the pleasure and profit of those that are frolicking and\nmaking merry. The love-scenes in Menander are convenient for those who\nhave already drunk their cups, and who in a short time must retire home\nto their wives; for in all his plays there is no love of boys mentioned,\nand all rapes committed on virgins and decently in marriages at last. As\nfor misses, if they are impudent and jilting, they are bobbed, the young\ngallants turning sober, and repenting of their lewd courses. But if they\nare kind and constant, either their true parents are discovered, or a\ntime is determined for intrigue, which brings them at last to obliging\nmodesty and civil kindness. These things to men busied about other\nmatters may seem scarce worth taking notice of; but whilst they are\nmaking merry, it is no wonder that the pleasantness and smoothness of\nthe parts should work a neat conformity and distinction in the hearers\nand make their manners like the pattern they have from those genteel\ncharacters.\n\nDiogenianus, either designedly or for want of breath ended thus. And\nwhen the sophister attacked him again, and contended that some of\nAristophanes's verses should be read, Philip speaking to me said:\nDiogenianus hath had his wish in praising his beloved Menander, and\nseems not to care for any of the rest. There are a great many sorts\nwhich we have not at all considered, concerning which I should be very\nglad to have your opinion; and the prize for the carvers we will set\nup to-morrow, when we are sober, if Diogenianus and this stranger think\nfit. Of representations, said I, some are allegorical, and some are\nfarces; neither of these are fit for an entertainment; the first by\nreason of their length and cost, and the latter being so full of filthy\ndiscourse and lewd actions, that they are not fit to be seen by the\nfoot-boys that wait on civil masters. Yet the rabble, even with\ntheir wives and young sons, sit quietly to be spectators of such\nrepresentations as are apt to disturb the soul more than the greatest\ndebauch in drink. The harp ever since Homer's time was well acquainted\nwith feasts and entertainments, and therefore it is not fitting to\ndissolve such an ancient friendship and acquaintance; but we should only\ndesire the harpers to forbear their sad notes and melancholy tunes,\nand play only those that are delighting, and fit for such as are making\nmerry. The pipe, if we would, we cannot reject, for the libation in the\nbeginning of the entertainment requires that as well as the garland.\nThen it insinuates and passeth through the ears, spreading even to the\nvery soul a pleasant sound, which produceth serenity and calmness; so\nthat, if the wine hath not quite dissolved or driven away all vexing\nsolicitous anxiety this, by the softness and delightful agreeableness of\nits sound, smooths and calms the spirits, if so be that it keeps\nwithin due bounds, and doth not elevate too much, and, by its numerous\nsurprising divisions, raise an ecstasy in the soul which wine hath\nweakened and made easy to be perverted. For as brutes do not understand\na rational discourse, yet lie down or rise up at the sound of a shell or\nwhistle, or of a chirp or clap; so the brutish part of the soul, which\nis either incapable of understanding or obeying reason, men conquer by\nsongs and tunes, and by music reduce it to tolerable order. But to speak\nfreely what I think, no pipe nor harp simply played upon, and without a\nsong with it, can be very fit for an entertainment. For we should still\naccustom ourselves to take our chiefest pleasure from discourse, and\nspend our leisure time in profitable talk, and use tunes and airs as\na sauce for the discourse, and not singly by themselves, to please the\nunreasonable delicacy of our palate. For as nobody is against pleasure\nthat ariseth from sauce or wine going in with our necessary food, but\nSocrates flouts and refuseth to admit that superfluous and vain pleasure\nwhich we take in perfumes and odors at a feast; thus the sound of a pipe\nor harp, when singly applied to our ears, we utterly reject, but if\nit accompanies words, and together with an ode feasts and delights our\nreason, we gladly introduce it. And we believe the famed Marsyas was\npunished by Apollo for pretending, when he had nothing but his single\npipe, and his muzzle to apply to his lips, to contend with the harp and\nsong of the god. Let us only take care that, when we have such guests as\nare able to cheer one another with philosophy and good discourse we do\nnot introduce anything that may rather prove an uneasy hindrance to\nthe conversation than promote it. For not only those are fools, who, as\nEuripides says, having safety at home and in their own power, yet would\nhire some from abroad; but those too who, having pleasantness enough\nwithin, are eager after some external pastimes to comfort and delight\nthem. That extraordinary piece of honor which the Persian king showed\nAntalcidas the Spartan seemed rude and uncivil, when he dipped a garland\ncomposed of crocus and roses in ointment, and sent it him to wear, by\nthat dipping putting a slight upon and spoiling the natural sweetness\nand beauty of the flowers. He doth as bad, who having a Muse in his own\nbreast, and all the pleasantness that would fit an entertainment, will\nhave pipes and harps play, and by that external adventitious noise\ndestroy all the sweetness that was proper and his own. But in short, all\near-delights are fittest then, when the company begins to be disturbed,\nto fall out, and quarrel, for then they may prevent raillery and\nreproach, and stop the dispute that is running on to sophistical and\nunpleasant wrangling, and bridle all babbling declamatory altercations,\nso that the company may be freed of noise and quietly composed.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. THAT IT WAS THE CUSTOM OF THE GREEKS AS WELL AS PERSIANS TO\nDEBATE OF STATE AFFAIRS AT THEIR ENTERTAINMENTS.\n\nNICOSTRATUS, GLAUCIAS.\n\nAt Nicostratus's table we discoursed of those matters which the\nAthenians were to debate of in their next assembly. And one of the\ncompany saying, It is the Persian fashion, sir, to debate midst your\ncups; And why, said Glaucias rejoining, not the Grecian fashion? For it\nwas a Greek that said,\n\n     After your belly's full, your counsel's best.\n\nAnd they were Greeks who with Agamemnon besieged Troy, to whom, whilst\nthey were eating and drinking,\n\n     Old Nestor first began a grave debate;\n     (\"Iliad,\" vii. 324.)\n\nand he himself advised the king before to call the commanders together\nfor the same purpose:--\n\n     For the commanders, sir, a feast prepare,\n     And see who counsels best, and follow him.\n     (Ibid, ix. 70 and 74.)\n\nTherefore Greece, having a great many excellent institutions, and\nzealously following the customs of the ancients, hath laid the\nfoundations of her polities in wine. For the assemblies in Crete called\nAndria, those in Sparta called Phiditia, were secret consultations\nand aristocratical assemblies; such, I suppose, as the Prytaneum and\nThesmothesium here at Athens. And not different from these is that\nnight-meeting, which Plato mentions, of the best and most polite men,\nto which the greatest, the most considerable and puzzling matters are\nassigned. And those\n\n     Who, when they do design to seek their rest,\n     To Mercury their just libations pour,\n     (\"Odyssey,\" vii. 138.)\n\ndo they not join reason and wine together, since, when they are about to\nretire, they make their vows to the wisest god, as if he was present and\nparticularly president over their actions? But the ancients indeed call\nBacchus the good counsellor, as if he had no need of Mercury; and for\nhis sake they named the night [Greek omitted] as it were, GOOD ADVISER.\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHETHER THEY DID WELL WHO DELIBERATED MIDST THEIR CUPS.\n\nGLAUCIAS, NICOSTRATUS.\n\nWhilst Glaucias was discoursing thus, the former tumultuous talk\nseemed to be pretty well lulled; and that it might be quite forgotten,\nNicostratus started another question, saying, he never valued the\nmatter before, whilst he thought it a Persian custom, but since it was\ndiscovered to be the Greek fashion too, it wanted (he thought) some\nreason to excuse or defend its seeming absurdity. For our reason ( much\nmoisture, is hard to be moved, and unable to perform its operations. And\nall sorts of troubles and discontents, like insects to the sun, creeping\nforth, and being agitated by a glass of wine, make the mind irresolute\nand inconstant. Therefore as a bed is more convenient for a man whilst\nmaking merry than a chair, because it contains the whole body and keeps\nit from all disturbing motion, so it is best to have the soul perfectly\nat quiet; or, if that cannot be, we must give it, as to children that\nwill be doing, not a sword or spear, but a rattle or a ball,--in this\nfollowing the example of the god himself, who puts into the hands of\nthose that are making merry a ferula, the lightest and softest of all\nweapons, that, when they are most apt to strike, they may hurt least.\nOver a glass of wine men should make only ridiculous slips, and not\nsuch as may prove tragical, lamentable, or of any considerable concern.\nBesides, in serious debates, it is chiefly to be considered, that\npersons of mean understanding and unacquainted with business should\nbe guided by the wise and experienced; but wine destroys this order.\nInsomuch that Plato says, wine is called [Greek omitted] because it\nmakes those that drink it [Greek omitted] think that they have wit; for\nnone over a glass of wine thinks himself so noble, beauteous, or rich\n(though he fancies himself all these), as wise; and therefore wine is\nbabbling, full of talk, and of a dictating humor; so that we are rather\nfor being heard than hearing, for leading than being led. But a thousand\nsuch objections may be raised, for they are very obvious. But let us\nhear which of the company, either old or young, can allege anything for\nthe contrary opinion.\n\nThen said my brother cunningly: And do you imagine that any, upon a\nsudden, can produce any probable reasons? And Nicostratus replying, Yes,\nno doubt, there being so many learned men and good drinkers in company;\nhe with a smile continued: Do you think, sir, you are fit to treat of\nthese matters, when wine hath disabled you to discourse of politics and\nstate affairs? Or is not this all the same as to think that a man in\nhis liquor doth not see very well nor understand those that talk and\ndiscourse with him, yet hears the music and the pipers very well? For as\nit is likely that useful and profitable things draw and affect the sense\nmore than fine and gaudy; so likewise they do the mind too. And I shall\nnot wonder that the nice philosophical speculation should escape a man\nwho hath drunk freely; but yet, I think, if he were called to political\ndebates, his wisdom would become more strong and vigorous. Thus Philip\nat Chaeronea, being well heated, talked very foolishly, and was the\nsport of the whole company; but as soon as they began to discourse of a\ntruce and peace, he composed his countenance, contracted his brows, and\ndismissing all vain, empty and dissolute thoughts, he gave an excellent,\nwise, and sober answer to the Athenians. To drink freely is different\nfrom being drunk, and those that drink till they grow foolish ought to\nretire to bed. But as for those that drink freely and are otherwise men\nof sense, why should we fear that they will fail in their understanding\nor lose their skill, when we see that musicians play as well at a feast\nas in a theatre? For when skill and art are found in the soul, they\nmake the body correct and proper in its operations, and obedient to the\nmotions of the spirit. Besides, wine inspirits some men, and raises a\nconfidence and assurance in them, but not such as is haughty and odious,\nbut pleasing and agreeable. Thus they say that Aeschylus composed his\ntragedies over a bottle, and that all his plays (though Gorgias thought\nthat one of them, the \"Seven against Thebes,\" was full of Mars) were\nBacchus's. For wine (according to Plato), heating the soul together\nwith the body, makes the body pliable, quick, and active, and opens the\npassages; while the fancies draw in discourse with boldness, and daring.\n\nFor some have a good natural invention, yet whilst they are sober are\ntoo diffident and too close, but midst their wine, like frankincense,\nexhale and open at the heat. Besides, wine expels all fear, which is\nthe greatest hindrance to all consultations, and quencheth many other\ndegenerate and lazy passions; it opens the rancor and malice, as\nit were, the two-leaved doors of the soul, and displays the whole\ndisposition and qualities of any person in his discourse. Freedom of\nspeech, and, through that, truth it principally produceth; which it once\nwanting, neither quickness of wit nor experience availeth anything; and\nmany proposing that which comes next rather hit the matter, than if they\nwarily and designedly conceal their present sentiments. Therefore there\nis no reason to fear that wine will stir up our affections; for it\nnever stirs up the bad, unless in the worst men, whose judgment is never\nsober. But as Theophrastus used to call the barbers' shops wineless\nentertainments; so there is a kind of an uncouth wineless drunkenness\nalways excited either by anger, malice, emulation, or clownishness in\nthe souls of the unlearned. Now wine, blunting rather than sharpening\nmany of these passions, doth not make them sots and foolish, but simple\nand ingenuous; not negligent of what is profitable, but desirous of what\nis good and honest. Now those that think craft to be cunning, and vanity\nor closeness to be wisdom, have reason to think those that over a glass\nof wine plainly and ingenuously deliver their opinions to be fools. But,\non the contrary, the ancients called the god the Freer and Loosener, and\nthought him considerable in divination; not, as Euripides says, because\nhe makes men raging mad, but because he looseth and frees the soul from\nall base distrustful fear, and puts them in a condition to speak truth\nfreely to one another.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VIII.\n\nThose, my Sossius Senecio, who throw philosophy out of entertainments do\nworse than those who take away a light. For the candle being removed,\nthe temperate and sober guests will not become worse than they were\nbefore, being more concerned to reverence than to see one another. But\nif dulness and disregard to good learning wait upon the wine, Minerva's\ngolden lamp itself could not make the entertainment pleasing and\nagreeable. For a company to sit silent and only cram themselves is, in\ngood truth, swinish and almost impossible. But he that permits men to\ntalk, yet doth not allow set and profitable discourses, is much more\nridiculous than he who thinks that his guests should eat and drink, yet\ngives them foul wine, unsavory and nastily prepared meat. For no meat\nnor drink which is not prepared as it ought to be is so hurtful and\nunpleasant as discourse which is carried round in company\ninsignificantly and out of season. The philosophers, when they would\ngive drunkenness a vile name, call it doting by wine. Now doting is to\nuse vain and trifling discourse; and when such babbling is accompanied\nby wine, it usually ends in most disagreeable and rude contumely and\nreproach. It is a good custom therefore of our women, who in their\nfeasts called Agrionia seek after Bacchus as if he were run away, but in\na little time give over the search, and cry that he is fled to the Muses\nand lurks with them; and some time after, when supper is done, put\nriddles and hard questions to one another. For this mystery teaches us,\nthat midst our entertainments we should use learned and philosophical\ndiscourse, and such as hath a Muse in it; and that such discourse being\napplied to drunkenness, everything that is brutish and outrageous in it\nis concealed, being pleasingly restrained by the Muses.\n\nThis book, being the eighth of my Symposiacs, begins with that discourse\nin which about a year ago, on Plato's birthday, I was concerned.\n\n\n\nQUESTION I. CONCERNING THOSE DAYS IN WHICH SOME FAMOUS MEN WERE BORN;\nAND ALSO CONCERNING THE GENERATION OF THE GODS.\n\nDIOGENIANUS, PLUTARCH, FLORUS, TYNDARES.\n\nOn the sixth day of May we celebrated Socrates's birthday, and on the\nseventh Plato's; and that first prompted us to such discourse as was\nsuitable to the meeting, which Diogenianus the Pergamenian began thus:\nIon, said he, was happy in his expression, when he said that Fortune,\nthough much unlike Wisdom, yet did many things very much like her; and\nthat she seemed to have some order and design, not only in placing the\nnativities of these two philosophers so near together, but in setting\nthe birthday of the most famous of the two first, who was also the\nmaster of the other. I had a great deal to say to the company concerning\nsome notable things that fell out on the same day, as concerning the\ntime of Euripides's birth and death; for he was born the same day that\nthe Greeks beat Xerxes by sea at Salamis, and died the same day that\nDionysius the elder, the Sicilian tyrant, was born,--Fortune (as Timaeus\nhath it) at the same time taking out of the world a representer, and\nbringing into it a real actor, of tragedies. Besides, we remembered that\nAlexander the king and Diogenes the Cynic died upon the same day. And\nall agreed that Attalus the king died on his own birthday. And some\nsaid, that Pompey the great was killed in Egypt on his birthday, or, as\nothers will have it, a day before. We remember Pindar also, who, being\nborn at the time of the Pythian games, made afterwards a great many\nexcellent hymns in honor of Apollo.\n\nTo this Florus subjoined: Now we are celebrating Plato's nativity, why\nshould we not mention Carneades, the most famous of the whole Academy,\nsince both of them were born on Apollo's feast; Plato, whilst they were\ncelebrating the Thargelia at Athens, Carneades, whilst the Cyrenians\nkept their Carnea; and both these feasts are, upon the same day. Nay,\nthe god himself you (he continued), his priests and prophets, call\nHebdomagenes, as if he were born on the seventh day. And therefore those\nwho make Apollo Plato's father do not, in my opinion, dishonor the god;\nsince by Socrates's as by another Chiron's instructions he is become\na physician for the diseases of the mind. And together with this, he\nmentioned that vision and voice which forbade Aristo, Plato's father, to\ncome near or lie with his wife for ten months.\n\nTo this Tyndares the Spartan subjoined: It is very fit we should apply\nthat to Plato,\n\n     He seemed not sprung from mortal man, but God.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxiv. 258.)\n\nBut, for my part, I am afraid to beget, as well as to be begotten,\nis repugnant to the incorruptibility of the deity. For that implies a\nchange and passion; as Alexander imagined, when he said that he knew\nhimself to be mortal as often as he lay with a woman or slept. For sleep\nis a relaxation of the body, occasioned by the weakness of our nature;\nand all generation is a corruptive parting with some of our own\nsubstance. But yet I take heart again, when I hear Plato call the\neternal and unbegotten deity the father and maker of the world and all\nother begotten things; not as if he parted with any seed, but as if\nby his power he implanted a generative principle in matter, which\nacts upon, forms, and fashions it. Winds passing through a hen will on\noccasions impregnate her; and it seems no incredible thing, that the\ndeity, though not after the fashion of a man, but by some other certain\ncommunication, fills a mortal creature with some divine conception. Nor\nis this my sense; but the Egyptians who say Apis was conceived by the\ninfluence of the moon, and make no question but that an immortal god may\nhave communication with a mortal woman. But on the contrary, they think\nthat no mortal can beget anything on a goddess, because they believe the\ngoddesses are made of thin air, and subtle heat and moisture.\n\n\n\nQUESTION II. WHAT IS PLATO'S MEANING, WHEN HE SAYS THAT GOD ALWAYS PLAYS\nTHE GEOMETER?\n\nDIOGENIANUS, TYNDARES, FLORUS, AUTOBULUS.\n\nSilence following this discourse, Diogenianus began again and said:\nSince our discourse is about the gods, shall we, especially on his own\nbirthday, admit Plato to the conference, and inquire upon what account\nhe says (supposing it to be his sentence) that God always plays the\ngeometer? I said that this sentence was not plainly set down in any of\nhis books; yet there are good arguments that it is his, and it is very\nmuch like his expression. Tyndares presently subjoining said: Perhaps,\nDiogenianus, you imagine that this sentence intimates some curious and\ndifficult speculation, and not that which he hath so often mentioned,\nwhen he praiseth geometry as a science that takes off men from sensible\nobjects, and makes them apply themselves to the intelligible and eternal\nNature, the contemplation of which is the end of philosophy, as the view\nof the initiatory mysteries into holy rites. For the nail of pain and\npleasure, that fastens the soul to the body, seems to do us the\ngreatest mischief, by making sensible things more powerful over us than\nintelligible, and by forcing the understanding to determine the rather\naccording to passion than reason. For this faculty, being accustomed\nby the vehemency of pain or pleasure to be intent on the mutable and\nuncertain body, as if it really and truly were, grows blind as to that\nwhich really is, and loses that instrument and light of the soul,\nwhich is worth a thousand bodies, and by which alone the deity can be\ndiscovered. Now in all sciences, as in plain and smooth mirrors, some\nmarks and images of the truth of intelligible objects appear, but in\ngeometry chiefly; which, according to Philo, is the chief and principal\nof all, and doth bring back and turn the understanding, as it were,\npurged and gently loosened from sense. And therefore Plato himself\ndislikes Eudoxus, Archytas, and Menaechmus for endeavoring to bring down\nthe doubling the cube to mechanical operations; for by this means all\nthat was good in geometry would be lost and corrupted, it falling\nback again to sensible things, and not rising upward and considering\nimmaterial and immortal images, in which God being versed is always God.\n\nAfter Tyndares, Florus, a companion of his, and who always jocosely\npretended to be his admirer, said thus: Sir, we are obliged to you for\nmaking your discourse not proper to yourself, but common to us all; for\nyou have made it possible to disprove it by demonstrating that geometry\nis not necessary to the gods, but to us. Now the deity doth not stand in\nneed of science, as an instrument to withdraw his intellect from things\ncreated and to turn it to the real things; for these are all in him,\nwith him, and about him. But pray consider whether Plato, though you\ndo not apprehend it, doth not intimate something that is proper and\npeculiar to you, mixing Lycurgus with Socrates, as much as Dicaearchus\nthought he did Pythagoras. For Lycurgus, I suppose you know, banished\nout of Sparta all arithmetical proportion, as being democratical and\nfavoring the crowd; but introduced the geometrical, as agreeable to an\noligarchy and kingly government that rules by law; for the former gives\nan equal share to every one according to number, but the other gives\naccording to the proportion of the deserts. It doth not huddle all\nthings together, but in it there is a fair discretion of good and\nbad, every one having what is fit for him, not by lot or weight, but\naccording as he is virtuous or vicious. The same proportion, my dear\nTyndares, God introduceth, which is called [Greek omitted] and [Greek\nomitted], and which teacheth us to account that which is just equal, and\nnot that which is equal just. For that equality which many affect, being\noften the greatest injustice, God, as much as possible, takes away; and\nuseth that proportion which respects every man's deserts, geometrically\ndefining it according to law and reason.\n\nThis exposition we applauded; and Tyndares, saying he envied him,\ndesired Autobulus to engage Florus and confute his discourse. That he\nrefused to do, but produced another opinion of his own. Geometry, said\nhe, considers nothing else but the accidents and properties of the\nextremities of bodies; neither did God make the world any other way than\nby terminating matter, which was infinite before. Not that matter was\nactually without limits as to either magnitude or multitude; but the\nancients used to call that infinite which by reason of its confusion\nand disorder is undetermined and unconfined. Now the terms of everything\nthat is formed or figured are the form and figure of that thing, and\nwithout which the thing would be formless and unfigured. Now numbers and\nproportions being applied to matter, it is circumscribed and as it were\nbound up by lines, and through lines by surfaces and solids; and so were\nsettled the first types and differences of bodies, as foundations from\nwhich to create the four elements, fire, air, water, and earth. For\nit was impossible that, out of an unsteady and confused matter, the\nequality of the sides, the likeness of the angles, and the exact\nproportion of octahedrons, icosahedrons, pyramids, and cubes should be\ndeduced, unless by some power that terminated and shaped every particle\nof matter. Therefore, terms being fixed to that which was undetermined\nor infinite before, the whole became and still continues agreeable\nin all parts, and excellently terminated and mixed; the matter indeed\nalways affecting an indeterminate state, and flying all geometrical\nconfinement, but proportion terminating and circumscribing it, and\ndividing it into several differences and forms, out of which all things\nthat arise are generated and subsist.\n\nWhen he had said this, he desired me to contribute something to the\ndiscourse; and I applauded their conceits as their own devices, and very\nprobable. But lest you despise yourselves (I continued) and altogether\nlook for some external explication, attend to an exposition upon\nthis sentence, which your masters very much approve. Amongst the most\ngeometrical theorems, or rather problems, this is one: Two figures being\ngiven, to describe a third, which shall be equal to one and similar to\nthe other. And it is reported that Pythagoras, upon the discovery of\nthis problem, offered a sacrifice to the gods; for this is a much more\nexquisite theorem than that which lays down, that the square of the\nhypothenuse in a right-angled triangle is equal to the squares of the\ntwo sides. Right, said Diogenianus, but what is this to the present\nquestion? You will easily understand, I replied, if you call to mind\nhow Timaeus divides that which gave the world its beginning into three\nparts. One of which is justly called God, the other matter, and the\nthird form. That which is called matter is the most confused subject,\nthe form the most beautiful pattern, and God the best of causes.\nNow this cause, as far as possible, would leave nothing infinite and\nindeterminate, but adorn Nature with number, measure, and proportion\nmaking one thing of all the subjects together, equal to the matter, and\nsimilar to the form. Therefore proposing to himself this problem, he\nmade and still makes a third, and always preserves it equal to the\nmatter, and like the form; and that is the world. And this world, being\nin constant changes and alterations because of the natural necessity of\nbody, is helped and preserved by the father and maker of all things, who\nby proportion terminates the substance according to the pattern.\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. WHY NOISES ARE BETTER HEARD IN THE NIGHT THAN THE DAY.\n\nAMMONIUS, BOETHUS, PLUTARCH, THRASYLLUS, ARISTODEMUS.\n\nWhen we supped with Ammonius at Athens, who was then the third time\ncaptain of the city-bands, there was a great noise about the house, some\nwithout doors calling, Captain! Captain! After he had sent his officers\nto quiet the tumult, and had dispersed the crowd, we began to inquire\nwhat was the reason that those that are within doors hear those that are\nwithout, but those that are without cannot hear those that are within\nas well. And Ammonius said, that Aristotle had given a reason for that\nalready; for the sound of those within, being carried without into a\nlarge tract of air, grows weaker presently and is lost; but that which\ncomes in from without is not subject to the like casualty, but is kept\nclose, and is therefore more easy to be heard. But that seemed a more\ndifficult question, Why sounds seem greater in the night than in the\nday, and yet altogether as clear. For my own part (continued he) I\nthink Providence hath very wisely contrived that our hearing should be\nquickest when our sight can do us very little or no service; for the air\nof the \"blind and solitary Night,\" as Empedocles calls it, being dark,\nsupplies in the ears that defect of sense which it makes in the eyes.\nBut since of natural effects we should endeavor to find the causes, and\nto discover what are the material and mechanical principles of things\nis the proper task of a natural philosopher, who shall first give us a\nrational account hereof?\n\nBoethus began, and said: When I was a novice in letters, I then made\nuse of geometrical postulates, and assumed as undoubted truths\nsome undemonstrated suppositions; and now I shall make use of some\npropositions which Epicurus hath demonstrated already. Bodies move in a\nvacuum, and there are a great many spaces interspersed among the atoms\nof the air. Now when the air being rarefied is more extended, so as\nto fill the vacant space, there are only a few vacuities scattered and\ninterspersed among the particles of matter; but when the atoms of air\nare condensed and laid close together, they leave a vast empty space,\nconvenient and sufficient for other bodies to pass through. Now\nthe coldness of the night makes such a constipation. Heat opens and\nseparates parts of condensed bodies, and therefore bodies that boil,\ngrow soft, or melt, require a greater space than before; but, on\nthe contrary, the parts of the body that are condensed or freeze are\ncontracted closer to one another, and leave those vessels and places\nfrom which they retired partly empty. Now the sound, meeting and\nstriking against a great many bodies in its way, is either altogether\nlost or scattered, and very much and very frequently hindered in its\npassage; but when it hath a plain and smooth way through an empty space,\nand comes to the ear uninterrupted, the passage is so sudden, that it\npreserves its articulate distinctness, as well as the words it carries.\nYou may observe that empty vessels, when knocked, answer presently, send\nout a noise to a great distance, and oftentimes the sound whirled round\nin the hollow breaks out with a considerable force; whilst a vessel\nthat is filled either with a liquid or a solid body will not answer to\na stroke, because the sound hath no room or passage to come through. And\namong solid bodies themselves, gold and stone, because they want pores,\ncan hardly be made to sound; and when a noise is made by a stroke upon\nthem, it is very flat, and presently lost. But brass is sounding, it\nbeing a porous, rare, and light metal, not consisting of parts tightly\ncompacted, but being mixed with a yielding and uncompacted substance,\nwhich gives free passage to other motions, and kindly receiving the\nsound sends it forward; till some touching the instrument do, as it\nwere, seize on it in the way, and stop the hollow; for then, by reason\nof the hindering force, it stops and goes no further. And this, in my\nopinion, is the reason why the night is more sonorous, and the day less;\nsince in the day, the heat rarefying the air makes the empty spaces\nbetween the particles to be very little. But, pray, let none argue\nagainst the suppositions I assumed.\n\nAnd I (Ammonius bidding me oppose him) said: Sir, your suppositions\nwhich demand a vacuum to be granted I shall admit; but you err in\nsupposing that a vacuum is conducive either to the preservation or\nconveyance of sound. For that which cannot be touched, acted upon, or\nstruck is peculiarly favorable to silence. But sound is a stroke of a\nsounding body; and a sounding body is that which has homogeneousness and\nuniformity, and is easy to be moved, light, smooth, and, by reason of\nits tenseness and continuity, it is obedient to the stroke; and such is\nthe air. Water, earth, and fire are of themselves soundless; but each of\nthem makes a noise when air falls upon or gets into it. And brass hath\nno vacuum; but being mixed with a smooth and gentle air it answers to a\nstroke, and is sounding. If the eye may be judge, iron must be reckoned\nto have a great many vacuities, and to be porous like a honey-comb, yet\nit is the dullest, and sounds worse than any other metal.\n\nTherefore there is no need to trouble the night to contract and condense\nits air, that in other parts we may leave vacuities and wide spaces; as\nif the air would hinder and corrupt the substance of the sounds, whose\nvery substance, form, and power itself is. Besides, if your reason held,\nmisty and extreme cold nights would be more sonorous than those which\nare temperate and clear, because then the atoms in our atmosphere are\nconstipated, and the spaces which they left remain empty; and, what is\nmore obvious, a cold day should be more sonorous than a warm summer's\nnight; neither of which is true. Therefore, laying aside that\nexplication, I produce Anaxagoras, who teacheth that the sun makes a\ntremulous motion in the air, as is evident from those little motes which\nare seen tossed up and down and flying in the sunbeams. These (says he),\nbeing in the day-time whisked about by the heat, and making a humming\nnoise, lessen or drown other sounds; but at night their motion, and\nconsequently their noise, ceaseth.\n\nWhen I had thus said, Ammonius began: Perhaps it will look like a\nridiculous attempt in us, to endeavor to confute Democritus and correct\nAnaxagoras. Yet we must not allow that humming noise to Anaxagoras's\nlittle motes, for it is neither probable nor necessary. But their\ntremulous and whirling motion in the sunbeams is oftentimes sufficient\nto disturb and break a sound. For the air (as hath been already said),\nbeing itself the body and substance of sound, if it be quiet and\nundisturbed, makes a straight, easy, and continuous way to the particles\nor the motions which make the sound. Thus sounds are best heard in calm\nstill weather; and the contrary is seen in stormy weather, as Simonides\nhath it:--\n\n     No tearing tempests rattled through the skies,\n     Which hinder sweet discourse from mortal ears.\n\nFor often the disturbed air hinders the articulateness of a discourse\nfrom coming to the ears, though it may convey something of the loudness\nand length of it. Now the night, simply considered in itself, hath\nnothing that may disturb the air; though the day hath,--namely the sun,\naccording to the opinion of Anaxagoras.\n\nTo this Thrasyllus, Ammonius's son, subjoining said: What is the\nmatter, for God's sake, that we endeavor to solve this difficulty by the\nunintelligible fancied motion of the air, and neglect the tossing and\ndivulsion thereof, which are evident? For Jupiter, the great ruler\nabove, doth not covertly and silently move the little particles of air;\nbut as soon as he appears, he stirs up and moves everything.\n\n     He sends forth lucky signs,\n     And stirs up nations to their proper work,\n\nAnd they obey; and (as Democritus saith) with fresh thoughts for each\nnew day, as if newly born again, they fall to their worldly concerns\nwith noisy and effectual contrivances. And upon this account, Ibycus\noppositely calls the dawning [Greek omitted] (from [Greek omitted], TO\nHEAR), because then men first begin to hear and speak. Now at night, all\nthings being at rest, the air being quiet and undisturbed must therefore\nprobably transmit the voice better, and convey it whole and unbroken to\nour ears.\n\nAristodemus the Cyprian, being then in the company, said: But consider,\nsir, whether battles or the marches of great armies by night do not\nconfute your reason; for the noise they make seems as loud as otherwise,\nthough then the air is broken and very much disturbed. But the reason\nis partly in ourselves; for our voice at night is usually vehement, we\neither commanding others to do something or asking short questions with\nheat and concern. For that, at the same time when Nature requires rest,\nwe should stir to do or speak anything, there must be some great and\nurgent necessity for it; and thence our voices become more vehement and\nloud.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHY, WHEN IN THE SACRED GAMES ONE SORT OF GARLAND WAS GIVEN\nIN ONE, AND ANOTHER IN ANOTHER, THE PALM WAS COMMON TO ALL. AND WHY THEY\nCALL THE GREAT DATES [Greek omitted].\n\nSOSPIS, HERODES, PROTOGENES, PRAXITELES, CAPHISUS.\n\nThe Isthmian games being celebrated, when Sospis was the second time\ndirector of the solemnity, we avoided other entertainments,--he treating\na great many strangers and often all his fellow-citizens,--but once,\nwhen he entertained his nearest and most learned friends at his own\nhouse, I was one of the company. After the first course, one coming to\nHerodes the rhetorician brought a palm and a wreathed crown, which one\nof his acquaintance, who had won the prize for an encomiastic exercise,\nsent him. This Herodes received very kindly, and sent it back again,\nbut added that he could not tell the reason why, since each of the games\ngave a particular garland, yet all of them bestowed the palm. For those\ndo not satisfy me (said he) who say that the equality of the leaves is\nthe reason, which growing out one against another seem to resemble some\nstriving for the prize, and that victory is called [Greek omitted] from\n[Greek omitted], not to yield. For a great many other trees, almost\nby measure and weight dividing the nourishment to their leaves growing\nopposite to one another, show a decent order and wonderful equality.\nThey seem to speak more probably who say the ancients were pleased with\nthe beauty and figure of the tree. Thus Homer compares Nausicaa to a\npalm-branch. For you all know very well, that some threw roses at the\nvictors, and others pomegranates and apples, to honor and reward them.\nBut now the palm hath nothing evidently more taking than many other\nthings, since here in Greece it bears no fruit that is good to eat, it\nnot ripening and growing mature enough. But if, as in Syria and Egypt,\nit bore a fruit that is the most pleasant to the eyes of anything in the\nworld, and the sweetest to the taste, then I must confess nothing could\ncompare with it. And the Persian monarch (as the story goes), being\nextremely taken with Nicolaus the Peripatetic philosopher, who was a\nvery sweet-humored man, tall and slender, and of a ruddy complexion,\ncalled the greatest and fairest dates Nicolai.\n\nThis discourse of Herodes seemed to give occasion for a query about\nNicolaus, which would be as pleasant as the former. Therefore, said\nSospis, let every one carefully give his sentiments of the matter before\nus. I begin, and think that, as far as possible, the honor of the victor\nshould remain fresh and immortal. Now a palm-tree is the longest lived\nof any, as this line of Orpheus testifies:--\n\n     They lived like branches of a leafy palm.\n\nAnd this almost alone has the privilege (though it is said to belong to\nmany besides) of having always fresh and the same leaves. For neither\nthe laurel nor the olive nor the myrtle, nor any other of those trees\nnamed evergreen, is always to be seen with the very same leaves; but\nas the old fall, new ones grow. So cities continue the same, where new\nparts succeed those that decay. But the palm, never shedding a leaf, is\ncontinually adorned with the same green. And this power of the tree, I\nbelieve, men think agreeable to, and fit to represent, the strength of\nvictory.\n\nWhen Sospis had done, Protogenes the grammarian, calling Praxiteles\nthe commentator by his name, said. What then, shall we suffer those\nrhetoricians to be thought to have hit the mark when they bring\narguments only from probabilities and conjectures? And can we produce\nnothing from history to club to this discourse? Lately, I remember,\nreading in the Attic annals, I found that Theseus first instituted games\nin Delos, and tore off a branch from the sacred palm-tree, which was\ncalled spadix (from [Greek omitted] TO TEAR).\n\nAnd Praxiteles said: This is not certain; but perhaps some will demand\nof Theseus himself, upon what account when he instituted the game,\nhe broke off a branch of palm rather than of laurel or of olive. But\nconsider whether this be not a prize proper to the Pythian games, as\nappropriate to Amphictyon. For there they first, in honor of the god,\ncrowned the victors with laurel and palm, as consecrating to the god,\nnot the laurel or olive, but the palm. So Nicias did, who defrayed\nthe charges of the solemnity in the name of the Athenians at Delos\nthe Athenians themselves at Delphi; and before these, Cypselus the\nCorinthian. For this god is a lover of games, and delights in contending\nfor the prize at harping, singing, and throwing the bar, and, as some\nsay, at cuffing; and assists men when contending, as Homer witnesseth,\nby making Achilles speak thus,\n\n     Let two come forth in cuffing stout, and try\n     To which Apollo gives the victory.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxiii. 659.)\n\nAnd amongst the archers, he that made his address to Apollo made the\nbest shot, and he that forgot to pray to him missed the mark. And\nbesides, it is not likely that the Athenians would rashly, and upon no\ngrounds, dedicate their place of exercise to Apollo. But they\nthought that the god which bestows health gives likewise a vigorous\nconstitution, and strength for the encounter. And since some of the\nencounters are light and easy, others laborious and difficult, the\nDelphians offered sacrifices to Apollo the cuffer; the Cretans and\nSpartans to Apollo the racer; and the dedication of spoils taken in the\nwars and trophies to Apollo Pythias show that he is of great power to\ngive victory in war.\n\nWhilst he was speaking, Caphisus, Theon's son, interrupted him, and\nsaid: This discourse smells neither of history nor comment, but is taken\nout of the common topics of the Peripatetics, and endeavors to persuade;\nbesides, you should, like the tragedians, raise your machine, and fright\nall that contradict you with the god. But the god, as indeed it is\nrequisite he should be, is equally benevolent to all. Now let us,\nfollowing Sospis (for he fairly leads the way), keep close to our\nsubject, the palm-tree, which affords us sufficient scope for our\ndiscourse. The Babylonians celebrate this tree, as being useful to them\nthree hundred and sixty several ways. But to us Greeks it is of very\nlittle use, but its lack of fruit makes it appropriate for contenders in\nthe games. For being the fairest, greatest, and best proportioned of\nall sorts of trees, it bears no fruit amongst us; but by reason of its\nstrong nature it exhausts all its nourishment (like an athlete) upon its\nbody, and so has very little, and that very bad, left for seed. Besides\nall this, it hath something peculiar, which cannot be attributed to any\nother tree. The branch of a palm, if you put a weight upon it, doth not\nyield and bend downwards, but turns the contrary way as if it resisted\nthe pressing force. The like is to be observed in these exercises.\nFor those who, through weakness or cowardice, yield to them, their\nadversaries oppress; but those who stoutly endure the encounter have not\nonly their bodies, but their minds too, strengthened and increased.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. WHY THOSE THAT SAIL UPON THE NILE TAKE UP THE WATER THEY ARE\nTO USE BEFORE DAY.\n\nOne demanded a reason why the sailors take up the water for their\noccasions out of the river Nile by night, and not by day. Some thought\nthey feared the sun, which heating the liquid would make it more liable\nto putrefaction. For everything that is warmed becomes more easy to be\nchanged, having already suffered when its natural quality was remitted.\nAnd cold constipating the parts seems to preserve everything in its\nnatural state, and water especially. For that the cold of water is\nnaturally constringent is evident from snow, which keeps flesh from\ncorrupting a long time. And heat, as it destroys the proper quality\nof other things, so of honey, for it being boiled is itself corrupted,\nthough when raw it preserves other bodies from corruption. And that this\nis the cause, I have a very considerable evidence from standing pools;\nfor in winter they are as wholesome as other water, but in summer they\ngrow bad and noxious. Therefore the night seeming in some measure to\nresemble the winter, and the day the summer, they think the water that\nis taken up at night is less subject to be vitiated and changed.\n\nTo these seemingly probable reasons another was added, which confirmed\nthe ingenuity of the sailors by a very strong proof. For some said\nthat they took up their water by night because then it was clear and\nundisturbed; but at day-time, when a great many fetched water together,\nand many boats were sailing and many beasts swimming upon the Nile,\nit grew thick and muddy, and in that condition it was more subject to\ncorruption. For mixed bodies are more easily corrupted than simple and\nunmixed; for from mixture proceeds disagreement of the parts, from that\ndisagreement a change, and corruption is nothing else but a certain\nchange; and therefore painters call the mixing of their colors [Greek\nomitted], corrupting; and Homer expresseth dyeing by [Greek omitted]\n(TO STAIN OR CONTAMINATE). Commonly we call anything that is simple and\nunmixed incorruptible and immortal. Now earth being mixed with water\nsoonest corrupts its proper qualities, and makes it unfit for drinking;\nand therefore standing water stinks soonest, being continually filled\nwith particles of earth, whilst running waters preserve themselves by\neither leaving behind or throwing off the earth that falls into them.\nAnd Hesiod justly commends\n\n     The water of a pure and constant spring.\n\nFor that water is wholesome which is not corrupted, and that is not\ncorrupted which is pure and unmixed. And this opinion is very much\nconfirmed from the difference of earths; for those springs that run\nthrough a mountainous, rocky ground are stronger than those which are\ncut through plains or marshes, because they do not take off much earth.\nNow the Nile running through a soft country, like the blood mingled\nwith the flesh, is filled with sweet juices that are strong and very\nnourishing; yet it is thick and muddy, and becomes more so if disturbed.\nFor motion mixeth the earthly particles with the liquid, which, because\nthey are heavier, fall to the bottom as soon as the water is still and\nundisturbed. Therefore the sailors take up the water they are to use at\nnight, by that means likewise preventing the sun, which always exhales\nand consumes the subtler and lighter particles of the liquid.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. CONCERNING THOSE WHO COME LATE TO AN ENTERTAINMENT; AND\nFROM WHENCE THESE WORDS, [Greek omitted] AND, [Greek omitted] ARE\nDERIVED.\n\nPLUTARCH'S SONS, THEON'S SONS, THEON, PLUTARCH, SOCLARUS.\n\nMy younger sons staying too long at the plays, and coming in too late\nto supper, Theon's sons waggishly and jocosely called them supper\nhinderers, night-suppers, and the like; and they in reply called their\nrunners-to-supper. And one of the old men in the company said [Greek\nomitted] signified one that was too late for supper; because, when\nhe found himself tardy, he mended his pace, and made more than common\nhaste. And he told us a jest of Battus, Caesar's jester, who called\nthose that came late supper-lovers, because out of their love to\nentertainments, though they had business, they would not desire to be\nexcused.\n\nAnd I said, that Polycharmus, a leading orator at Athens, in his apology\nfor his way of living before the assembly, said: Besides a great many\nthings which I could mention, fellow-citizens, when I was invited to\nsupper, I never came the last man. For this is more democratical; and\non the contrary, those that are forced to stay for others that come late\nare offended at them as uncivil and of an oligarchical temper.\n\nBut Soclarus, in defence of my sons, said: Alcaeus (as the story\ngoes) did not call Pittacus a night-supper for supping late, but for\ndelighting in base and scandalous company. Heretofore to eat early was\naccounted scandalous, and such a meal was called [Greek omitted], from\n[Greek omitted] INTEMPERANCE.\n\nThen Theon interrupting him said: Not at all, if we must trust those who\nhave delivered down to us the ancients way of living. For they say that\nthose being used to work, and very temperate in a morning, ate a bit of\nbread dipped in wine, and nothing else, and that they called that meal\n[Greek omitted] from the [Greek omitted] (WINE). Their supper they\ncalled [Greek omitted], because returning from their business they took\nit [Greek omitted] (LATE). Upon this we began to inquire whence those\ntwo meals [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted] took their names. In Homer\n[Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted] seem to be the same meal. For he\nsays that Eumaeus provided [Greek omitted] by the break of day; and it\nis probable that [Greek omitted] was so called from [Greek omitted],\nbecause provided in the morning; and [Greek omitted] was so named from\n[Greek omitted], EASING FROM THEIR LABOR. For men used to take their\n[Greek omitted] after they had finished their business, or whilst they\nwere about it. And this may be gathered from Homer, when he says,\n\n     Then when the woodman doth his supper dress.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xi. 86.)\n\nBut some perhaps will derive [Greek omitted] from [Greek omitted],\nEASIEST PROVIDED, because that meal is usually made upon what is ready\nand at hand; and [Greek omitted] from [Greek omitted], LABORED, because\nof the pains used in dressing it.\n\nMy brother Lamprias, being of a scoffing, jeering nature, said: Since we\nare in a trifling humor, I can show that the Latin names of these meals\nare a thousand times more proper than the Greek; [Greek omitted] SUPPER,\nthey call coena ([Greek omitted]) from community; because they took\ntheir [Greek omitted] by themselves, but their coena with their friends.\n[Greek omitted] DINNER, they call prandium, from the time of the dry;\nfor [Greek omitted] signifies NOON-TIDE, and to rest after dinner is\nexpressed by [Greek omitted]; or else by prandium they denote a bit\ntaken in the morning, [Greek omitted], BEFORE THEY HAVE NEED OF ANY.\nAnd not to mention stragula, from [Greek Omitted], vinum from [Greek\nomitted], oleum from [Greek omitted], mel from [Greek omitted], gustare\nfrom [Greek omitted], propinare from [Greek omitted], and a great many\nmore words which they have plainly borrowed from the Greeks,--who can\ndeny but that they have taken their comessatio, BANQUETING, from our\n[Greek omitted] and miscere, TO MINGLE, from the Greeks too? Thus in\nHomer,\n\n     She in a bowl herself mixt ([Greek omitted]) generous wine.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" x. 356.)\n\nThey call a table mensam, from [Greek omitted], PLACING IT IN THE\nMIDDLE; bread, panem, from satisfying [Greek omitted], HUNGER; a\ngarland, coronam, from [Greek omitted], THE HEAD;--and Homer somewhat\nlikens [Greek omitted], a HEAD-PIECE, to a garland;--caedere, TO BEAT,\nfrom [Greek omitted]; and dentes, TEETH, from [Greek omitted]; lips\nthey call labra, from [Greek omitted], TAKING OUR VICTUALS WITH THEM.\nTherefore we must either listen to such fooleries as these without\nlaughing, or not give them so ready entrance by means of words....\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. CONCERNING PYTHAGORAS'S SYMBOLS, IN WHICH HE FORBIDS US TO\nRECEIVE A SWALLOW INTO OUR HOUSE, AND BIDS US AS SOON AS WE ARE RISEN TO\nRUFFLE THE BEDCLOTHES.\n\nSYLLA, LUCIUS, PLUTARCH, PHILINUS.\n\nSylla the Carthaginian, upon my return to Rome after a long absence,\ngave me a welcoming supper, as the Romans call it, and invited some few\nother friends, and among the rest, one Lucius an Etrurian, the scholar\nof Moderatus the Pythagorean. He seeing my friend Philinus ate no flesh,\nbegan (as the opportunity was fair) to talk of Pythagoras; and affirmed\nthat he was a Tuscan, not because his father, as others have said, was\none, but because he himself was born, bred, and taught in Tuscany. To\nconfirm this, he brought considerable arguments from such symbols as\nthese:--As soon as you are risen, ruffle the bedclothes; leave not the\nprint of the pot in the ashes; receive not a swallow into your house;\nnever step over a besom; nor keep in your house creatures that have\nhooked claws. For these precepts of the Pythagoreans the Tuscans only,\nas he said, carefully observe.\n\nLucius, having thus said, that precept about the swallow seemed to be\nmost unaccountable, it being a harmless and kind animal; and therefore\nit seemed strange that that should be forbid the house, as well as the\nhooked-clawed animals, which are ravenous, wild, and bloody. Nor did\nLucius himself approve that only interpretation of the ancients,\nwho say, this symbol aims directly at backbiters and tale-bearing\nwhisperers. For the swallow whispers not at all; it chatters indeed,\nand is noisy, but not more than a pie, a partridge, or a hen. What then,\nsaid Sylla, is it upon the old fabulous account of killing her son, that\nthey deny the swallow entertainment, by that means showing their dislike\nto those passions which (as the story goes) made Tereus and Procne and\nPhilomel both act and suffer such wicked and abominable things? And even\nto this day they call the birds Daulides. And Gorgias the sophister,\nwhen a swallow muted upon him, looked upon her and said, Philomel, this\nwas not well done. Or perhaps this is all without foundation; for the\nnightingale, though concerned in the same tragedy, we willingly receive.\n\nPerhaps, sir, said I, what you have alleged may be some reason; but\npray consider whether first they do not hate the swallow upon the same\naccount that they abhor hook-clawed animals. For the swallow feeds on\nflesh; and grasshoppers, which are sacred and musical, they chiefly\ndevour and prey upon. And, as Aristotle observes, they fly near the\nsurface of the earth to pick up the little animals. Besides, that alone\nof all house-animals makes no return for her entertainment. The stork,\nthough she is neither covered, fed, nor defended by us, yet pays for the\nplace where she builds, going about and killing the efts, snakes, and\nother venomous creatures. But the swallow, though she receives all those\nseveral kindnesses from us, yet, as soon as her young are fledged, flies\naway faithless and ungrateful; and (which is the worst of all) of all\nhouse-animals, the fly and the swallow only never grow tame, suffer a\nman to touch them, keep company with or learn of him. And the fly is so\nshy because often hurt and driven away; but the swallow naturally\nhates man, suspects, and dares not trust any that would tame her. And\ntherefore,--if we must not look on the outside of these things,\nbut opening them view the representations of some things in\nothers,--Pythagoras, setting the swallow for an example of a wandering,\nunthankful man, adviseth us not to take those who come to us for their\nown need and upon occasion into our familiarity, and let them partake of\nthe most sacred things, our house and fire.\n\nThis discourse of mine gave the company encouragement to proceed, so\nthey attempted other symbols, and gave moral interpretations of them.\nFor Philinus said, that the precept of blotting out the print of the pot\ninstructed us not to leave any plain mark of anger, but, as soon as ever\nthe passion hath done boiling, to lay aside all thoughts of malice and\nrevenge. That symbol which adviseth us to ruffle the bedclothes seemed\nto some to have no secret meaning, but to be in itself very evident;\nfor it is not decent that the mark and (as it were) stamped image should\nremain to be seen by others, in the place where a man hath lain with his\nwife. But Sylla thought the symbol was rather intended to prevent men's\nsleeping in the day-time, all the conveniences for sleeping being taken\naway in the morning as soon as we are up. For night is the time for\nsleep, and in the day we should rise and follow our affairs, and not\nsuffer so much as the print of our body in the bed, since a man asleep\nis of no more use than one dead. And this interpretation seems to be\nconfirmed by that other precept, in which the Pythagoreans advise their\nfollowers not to take off any man's burthen from him, but to lay on\nmore, as not countenancing sloth and laziness in any.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHY THE PYTHAGOREANS COMMAND FISH NOT TO BE EATEN, MORE\nSTRICTLY THAN OTHER ANIMALS.\n\nEMPEDOCLES, SYLLA, LUCIUS, TYNDARES, NESTOR.\n\nOur former discourse Lucius neither reprehended nor approved, but,\nsitting silent and musing, gave us the hearing. Then Empedocles\naddressing his discourse to Sylla, said: If our friend Lucius is\ndispleased with the discourse, it is time for us to leave off; but if\nthese are some of their mysteries which ought to be concealed, yet I\nthink this may be lawfully divulged, that they more cautiously abstain\nfrom fish than from other animals. For this is said of the ancient\nPythagoreans; and even now I have met with Alexicrates's scholars, who\nwill eat and kill and even sacrifice some of the other animals, but will\nnever taste fish. Tyndares the Spartan said, they spared fish because\nthey had so great a regard for silence, and they called fish [Greek\nomitted], because they had their voice SHUT UP ([Greek omitted]); and my\nnamesake Empedocles advised one who had been expelled from the school of\nPythagoras to shut up his mind like a fish, and they thought silence to\nbe divine, since the gods without any voice reveal their meaning to the\nwise by their works.\n\nThen Lucius gravely and composedly saying, that perhaps the true reason\nwas obscure and not to be divulged, yet they had liberty to venture upon\nprobable conjectures, Theon the grammarian began thus: To demonstrate\nthat Pythagoras was a Tuscan is a great and no easy task. But it is\nconfessed that he conversed a long time with the wise men of Egypt, and\nimitated a great many of the rites and institutions of the priests, for\ninstance, that about beans. For Herodotus delivers, that the Egyptians\nneither set nor eat beans, nay, cannot endure to see them; and we all\nknow, that even now the priests eat no fish; and the stricter sort eat\nno salt, and refuse all meat that is seasoned with it. Various reasons\nare offered for this; but the only true reason is hatred to the sea, as\nbeing a disagreeable, or rather naturally a destructive element to man.\nFor they do not imagine that the gods, as the Stoics did that the stars,\nwere nourished by it. But, on the contrary, they think that the father\nand preserver of their country, whom they call the deflux of Osiris,\nis lost in it; and when they bewail him as born on the left hand, and\ndestroyed in the right-hand parts, they intimate to us the ending and\ncorruption of their Nile by the sea, and therefore they do not believe\nthat its water is wholesome, or that any creature produced or nourished\nin it can be clean or wholesome food for man, since it breathes not the\ncommon air, and feeds not on the same food with him. And the air that\nnourisheth and preserves all other things is destructive to them, as\nif their production and life were unnecessary and against Nature;\nnor should we wonder that they think animals bred in the sea to be\ndisagreeable to their bodies, and not fit to mix with their blood\nand spirits, since when they meet a pilot they will not speak to him,\nbecause he gets his living by the sea.\n\nSylla commended this discourse, and added concerning the Pythagoreans,\nthat they then chiefly tasted flesh when they sacrificed to the gods.\nNow no fish is ever offered in sacrifice. I, after they had done, said\nthat many, both philosophers and unlearned, considering with how many\ngood things it furnisheth and makes our life more comfortable, take\nthe sea's part against the Egyptians. But that the Pythagoreans should\nabstain from fish because they are not of the same kind, is ridiculous\nand absurd; nay, to butcher and feed on other animals, because they bear\na nearer relation to us, would be a most inhuman and Cyclopean return.\nAnd they say that Pythagoras bought a draught of fishes, and presently\ncommanded the fishers to let them all out of the net; and this shows\nthat, he did not hate or not mind fishes, as things of another kind and\ndestructive to man, but that they were his dearly beloved creatures,\nsince he paid a ransom for their freedom.\n\nTherefore the tenderness and humanity of those philosophers suggest a\nquite contrary reason, and I am apt to believe that they spare fishes\nto instruct men, or to accustom themselves to acts of justice; for other\ncreatures generally give men cause to afflict them, but fishes neither\ndo nor are capable of doing us any harm. And it is easy to show, both\nfrom the writings and religion of the ancients, that they thought it a\ngreat sin not only to eat but to kill an animal that did them no harm.\nBut afterwards, being necessitated by the spreading multitude of men,\nand commanded (as they say) by the Delphic oracle to prevent the total\ndecay of corn and fruit, they began to sacrifice, yet they were so\ndisturbed and concerned at the action, that they called it [Greek\nomitted] and [Greek omitted] (TO DO), as if they did some strange thing\nin killing an animal; and they are very careful not to kill the beast\nbefore the wine has been cast upon his head and he nods in token of\nconsent. So very cautious are they of injustice. And not to mention\nother considerations, were no chickens (for instance) or hares killed,\nin a short time they would so increase that there could be no living.\nAnd now it would be a very hard matter to put down the eating of\nflesh, which necessity first introduced, since pleasure and luxury hath\nespoused it. But the water-animals neither consuming any part of our air\nor water, or devouring the fruit, but as it were encompassed by another\nworld, and having their own proper bounds, which it is death for them\nto pass, they afford our belly no pretence at all for their destruction;\nand therefore to catch or be greedy after fish is plain deliciousness\nand luxury, which upon no just reason unsettle the sea and dive into\nthe deep. For we cannot call the mullet corn-destroying, the trout\ngrape-eating, nor the barbel or seapike seed-gathering, as we do some\nland-animals, signifying their hurtfulness by these epithets. Nay, those\nlittle mischiefs which we complain of in these house-creatures, a\nweasel or fly, none can justly lay upon the greatest fish. Therefore\nthe Pythagoreans, confining themselves not only by the law which forbids\nthem to injure men, but also by Nature, which commands them to do\nviolence to nothing, fed on fish very little, or rather not at all. But\nsuppose there were no injustice in this case, yet to delight in fish\nwould argue daintiness and luxury; because they are such costly and\nunnecessary diet. Therefore Homer doth not only make the Greeks whilst\nencamped near the Hellespont, eat no fish, but he mentions not any\nsea-provision that the dissolute Phaeacians or luxurious wooers had,\nthough both islanders. And Ulysses's mates, though they sailed over so\nmuch sea, as long as they had any provision left, never let down a hook\nor net.\n\n     But when the victuals of their ship was spent,\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xii. 329-332.)\n\na little before they fell upon the oxen of the Sun, they caught fish,\nnot to please their wanton appetite, but to satisfy their hunger,--\n\n     With crooked hooks, for cruel hunger gnawed.\n\nThe same necessity therefore forced them to catch fish and devour the\noxen of the Sun. Therefore not only among the Egyptian and Syrians but\nGreeks too, to abstain from fish was a piece of sanctity, they avoiding\n(as I think), a superfluous curiosity in diet, as well as being just.\n\nTo this Nestor subjoining said: But sir, of my citizens as of the\nMegarians in the proverb, you make no account; although you have heard\nme often say that our priests of Neptune (whom we call Hieromnemons)\nnever eat fish. For Neptune himself is called the Breeder. And the\nrace of Hellen sacrificed to Neptune as the first father, imagining,\nas likewise the Syrians did, that man rose from a liquid substance. And\ntherefore they worship a fish as of the same production and breeding\nwith themselves, in this matter being more happy in their philosophy\nthan Anaximander; for he says that fish and men were not produced in the\nsame substances, but that men were first produced in fishes, and, when\nthey were grown up and able to help themselves, were thrown out, and so\nlived upon the land. Therefore, as the fire devours its parents, that\nis, the matter out of which it was first kindled, so Anaximander,\nasserting that fish were our common parents, condemneth our feeding on\nthem.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. WHETHER THERE CAN BE NEW DISEASES, AND HOW CAUSED.\n\nPHILO, DIOGENIANUS, PLUTARCH.\n\nPhilo the physician stoutly affirmed that the elephantiasis was a\ndisease but lately known; since none of the ancient physicians speak one\nword of it, though they oftentimes enlarge upon little, frivolous\nand obscure trifles. And I, to confirm it, cited Athenodorus the\nphilosopher, who in his first book of Epidemical Diseases says, that not\nonly that disease, but also the hydrophobia or water-dread (occasioned\nby the biting of a mad dog), were first discovered in the time of\nAsclepiades. At this the whole company were amazed, thinking it very\nstrange that such diseases should begin then, and yet as strange that\nthey should not be taken notice of in so long a time; yet most of them\nleaned to this last opinion, as being most agreeable to man, not in the\nleast daring to imagine that Nature affected novelties, or would in the\nbody of man, as in a city, create new disturbances and tumults.\n\nAnd Diogenianus added, that even the passions and diseases of the\nmind go on in the same old road that formerly they did; and yet the\nviciousness of our inclination is exceedingly prone to variety, and our\nmind is mistress of itself, and can, if it please, easily change and\nalter. Yet all her inordinate motions have some sort of order, and the\nsoul hath bounds to her passions, as the sea to her overflowings. And\nthere is no sort of vice now among us which was not practised by the\nancients. There are a thousand differences of appetites and various\nmotions of fear; the schemes of grief and pleasure are innumerable.\n\n     Yet are not they of late or now produced,\n     And none can tell from whence they first arose.\n     (Sophocles, \"Antigone,\" 456.)\n\nHow then should the body be subject to new diseases, since it hath not,\nlike the soul, the principle of its own alteration in itself, but by\ncommon causes is joined to Nature, and receives a temperature whose\ninfinite variety of alterations is confined to certain bounds, like a\nship moving and tossing in a circle about its anchor. Now there can be\nno disease without some cause, it being against the laws of Nature that\nanything should be without a cause. Now it will be very hard to find a\nnew cause, unless we fancy some strange air, water, or food never tasted\nby the ancients, should out of other worlds or intermundane spaces\ndescend to us. For we contract diseases from those very things which\npreserve our life; since there are no peculiar seeds of diseases, but\nthe disagreement of their juices to our bodies, or our excess in using\nthem, disturbs Nature. These disturbances have still the very same\ndifferences, though now and then called by new names. For names depend\non custom, but the passions on Nature; and these being constant and\nthose variable, this error has arisen. As, in the parts of a speech\nand the syntax of the words, some new sort of barbarism or solecism can\nsuddenly arise; so the temperature of the body hath certain deviations\nand corruptions into which it may fall, those things which are against\nand hurtful to Nature being in some sort existent in Nature herself. The\nmythographers are in this particular very ingenious, for they say that\nmonstrous uncouth animals were produced in the time of the Giants war,\nthe moon being out of its course, and not rising where it used to do.\nAnd those who think Nature produces new diseases like monsters, and\nyet give neither likely nor unlikely reasons of the change, err, as I\nimagine, my dear Philo, in taking a less or a greater degree of the same\ndisease to be a different disease. The intension or increase of a thing\nmakes it more or greater, but does not make the subject of another kind.\nThus the elephantiasis, being an intense scabbiness, is not a new\nkind; nor is the water-dread distinguished from other melancholic and\nstomachical affections but only by the degree. And I wonder we did not\nobserve that Homer was acquainted with this disease, for it is evident\nthat he calls a dog rabid from the very same rage with which when men\nare possessed they are said to be mad.\n\nAgainst this discourse of Diogenianus Philo himself made some\nobjections, and desired me to be the old physicians' patron; who must\nbe branded with inadvertency and ignorance, unless it appears that those\ndiseases began since their time. First then Diogenianus, methinks, very\nprecariously desires us to think that the intenseness or remissness of\ndegrees is not a real difference, and does not alter the kind. For, were\nthis true, then we should hold that downright vinegar is not different\nfrom pricked wine, nor a bitter from a rough taste, darnel from wheat,\nnor garden-mint from wild mint. For it is evident that these differences\nare only the several degrees of the same qualities, in some being more\nintense, in some more remiss. So we should not venture to affirm that\nflame is different from a white spirit, sunshine from flame, hoarfrost\nfrom dew, or hail from rain; but that the former have only more intense\nqualities than the latter. Besides, we should say that blindness is of\nthe same kind with short-sightedness, violent vomiting (or cholera) with\nweakness of the stomach, and that they differ only in degree. Though\nwhat they say is nothing to the purpose; for if they allow the increase\nin intensity and strength, but assert that this came but now of\nlate,--the novelty showing itself in the quantity rather than the\nquality,--the same difficulties which they urged against the other\nopinion oppress them. Sophocles says very well concerning those things\nwhich are not believed to be now, because they were not heretofore,--\n\n     Once at the first all things their being had.\n\nAnd it is probable that not all diseases, as in a race, the barrier\nbeing let down, started together; but that one rising after another, at\nsome certain time, had its beginning and showed itself. It is rational\nbut afterwards overeating, luxury, and surfeiting, encouraged by ease\nand plenty, raised bad and superfluous juices, and those brought various\nnew diseases, and their perpetual complications and mixtures still\ncreate more new. Whatever is natural is determined and in order; for\nNature is order, or the work of order. Disorder, like Pindar's sand,\ncannot be comprised by number, and that which is beside Nature is\nstraight called indeterminate and infinite. Thus truth is simple, and\nbut one; but falsities innumerable. The exactness of motions and harmony\nare definite, but the errors either in playing upon the harp, singing,\nor dancing, who can comprehend? Indeed Phrynichus the tragedian says of\nhimself,\n\n     As many figures dancing doth propose\n     As waves roll on the sea when tempests toss.\n\nAnd Chrysippus says that the various complications of ten single axioms\namount to 1,000,000. But Hipparchus hath confuted that account, showing\nthat the affirmative contains 101,049 complicated propositions, and the\nnegative 310,952. And Xenocrates says, the number of syllables which the\nletters will make is 100,200,000. How then is it strange that the body,\nhaving so many different powers in itself, and getting new qualities\nevery day from its meat and drink, and using those motions and\nalterations which are not always in the same time nor in the same order,\nshould upon the various complications of all these be affected with new\ndiseases? Such was the plague at Athens described by Thucydides, who\nconjectures that it was new because that birds and beasts of prey would\nnot touch the dead carcasses. Those that fell sick about the Red Sea, if\nwe believe Agatharcides, besides other strange and unheard diseases, had\nlittle serpents in their legs and arms, which did eat their way out, but\nwhen touched shrunk in again, and raised intolerable inflammations in\nthe muscles; and yet this kind of plague, as likewise many others, never\nafflicted any beside, either before or since. One, after a long stoppage\nof urine, voided a knotty barley straw. And we know that Ephebus, with\nwhom we lodged at Athens, threw out, together with a great deal of seed,\na little hairy, many-footed, nimble animal. And Aristotle tells us,\nthat Timon's nurse in Cilicia every year for two months lay in a cave,\nwithout any vital operation besides breathing. And in the Menonian books\nit is delivered as a symptom of a diseased liver carefully to observe\nand hunt after mice and rats, which we see now nowhere practised.\n\nTherefore let us not wonder if something happens which never was before,\nor if something doth not appear among us with which the ancients were\nacquainted; for the cause of those accidents is the nature of our body,\nwhose temperature is subject to be changed. Therefore, if Diogenianus\nwill not introduce a new kind of water or air, we, having no need of it,\nare very well content. Yet we know some of Democritus's scholars affirm\nthat, other worlds being dissolved, some strange effluvia fall into\nours, and are the principle of new plagues and uncommon diseases. But\nlet us not now take notice of the corruption of some parts of this\nworld by earthquake, droughts, and floods, by which both the vapors and\nfountains rising out of the earth must be necessarily corrupted. Yet we\nmust not pass by that change which must be wrought in the body by our\nmeat, drink, and other exercises in our course of life. For many things\nwhich the ancients did not feed on are now accounted dainties; for\ninstance, mead and swine's belly. Heretofore too, as I have heard, they\nhated the brain of animals so much, that they detested the very name of\nit; as when Homer says, \"I esteem him at a brain's worth.\" And even now\nwe know some old men, not bearing to taste cucumber, melon, orange, or\npepper. Now by these meats and drinks it is probable that the juices\nof our bodies are much altered, and their temperature changed, new\nqualities arising from this new sort of diet. And the change of order\nin our feeding having a great influence on the alteration of our bodies,\nthe cold courses, as they were called formerly, consisting of oysters,\npolyps, salads, and the like, being (in Plato's phrase) transferred\n\"from tail to mouth,\" now make the first course, whereas they were\nformerly the last. Besides, the glass which we usually take before\nsupper is very considerable in this case; for the ancients never drank\nso much as water before they ate, but now we drink freely before we\nsit down, and fall to our meat with a full and heated body, using sharp\nsauces and pickles to provoke appetite, and then we fall greedily on the\nother meat. But nothing conduceth more to alterations and new diseases\nin the body than our different baths; for here the flesh, like iron\nin the fire, grows soft and loose, and is presently constipated and\nhardened by the cold. For, in my opinion, if any of the last age had\nlooked into our baths, he might have justly said,\n\n     There burning Phlegethon meets Acheron.\n\nFor they used such mild gentle baths, that Alexander the Great being\nfeverish slept in one. And the Gauls' wives carry their pots of pulse to\neat with their children whilst they are in the bath. But our baths now\ninflame, vellicate, and distress; and the air which we draw is a mixture\nof air and water, disturbs the whole body, tosses and displaces\nevery atom, till we quench the fiery particles and allay their heat.\nTherefore, Diogenianus, you see that this account requires no new\nstrange causes, no intermundane spaces; but the single alteration of our\ndiet is enough to raise new diseases and abolish old.\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHY WE GIVE LEAST CREDIT TO DREAMS IN AUTUMN.\n\nFLORUS, PLUTARCH, PLUTARCH'S SONS, FAVORINUS.\n\nFlorus reading Aristotle's physical problems, which were brought to him\nto Thermopylae, was himself (as philosophical wits used to be) filled\nwith a great many doubts, and communicated them to others; thereby\nconfirming Aristotle's saying, that much learning raises many doubts.\nOther topics made our walks every day very pleasant, but the common\nsaying concerning dreams,--that those in autumn are the vainest,--I\nknow not how, whilst Favorinus was engaged in other matters, was started\nafter supper. Your friends and my sons thought Aristotle had given\nsufficient satisfaction in this point, and that no other cause was to be\nsought after or allowed but that which he mentions, the fruit. For the\nfruit, being new and flatulent, raises many disturbing vapors in the\nbody; for it is not likely that only wine ferments, or new oil only\nmakes a noise in the lamp, the heat agitating its vapor; but new corn\nand all sorts of fruit are plump and distended, till the unconcocted\nflatulent vapor is broke away. And that some sorts of food disturb\ndreams they said, was evident from beans and the polypus's head, from\nwhich those who would divine by their dreams are commanded to abstain.\n\nBut Favorinus himself, though in all other things he admires Aristotle\nexceedingly and thinks the Peripatetic philosophy to be most probable,\nyet in this case resolved to scour up an old musty opinion of\nDemocritus. He first laid down that known principle of his, that images\npass through the pores into the inmost parts of the body, and being\ncarried upward cause dreams; and that these images fly from everything,\nvessels, garments, plants, but especially from animals, because of their\nheat and the motion of their spirits; and that these images not only\ncarry the outward shape and likeness of the bodies (as Epicurus thinks,\nfollowing Democritus so far and no farther), but the very designs,\nmotions, and passions of the soul; and with those entering into the\nbodies, as if they were living things, discover to those that receive\nthem the thoughts and inclinations of the persons from whom they come,\nif so be that they preserve their frame and order entire. And that is\nespecially preserved when the air is calm and clear, their passage then\nbeing quick and undisturbed. Now the autumnal air, when trees shed\ntheir leaves, being very uneven and disturbed, ruffles and disorders\nthe images, and, hindering them in their passage, makes them weak and\nineffectual; when, on the contrary, if they rise from warm and vigorous\nsubjects, and are presently applied, the notices which they give and the\nimpressions they make are clear and evident.\n\nThen with a smile looking upon Autobulus, he continued: But, sir, I\nperceive you design to have an airy skirmish with these images, and\ntry the excellence of this old opinion, as you would a picture, by your\nnail. And Autobulus replied: Pray, sir, do not endeavor to cheat us any\nlonger; for we know very well that you, designing to make Aristotle's\nopinion appear the better, have used this of Democritus only as its\nshade. Therefore I shall pass by that, and impugn Aristotle's opinion,\nwhich unjustly lays the blame on the new fruit. For both the summer and\nthe early autumn witness in its favor, when, as Antimachus says, the\nfruit is most fresh and juicy; for then, though we eat the new fruit,\nyet our dreams are not so vain as at other times. And the months when\nthe leaves fall, being next to winter, so concoct the corn and remaining\nfruit, that they grow shrivelled and less, and lose all their brisk\nagitating spirit. As for new wine, those that drink it soonest forbear\ntill February, which is after winter; and the day on which we begin\nwe call the day of the Good Genius, and the Athenians the day of\ncask-opening. For whilst wine is working, we see that even common,\nlaborers will not venture on it. Therefore no more accusing the gifts of\nthe gods, let us seek after another cause of vain dreams, to which\nthe name of the season will direct us. For it is called LEAF-SHEDDING,\nbecause the leaves then fall off by reason of their dryness and\ncoldness; except the leaves of hot and oily trees, as of the olive, the\nlaurel, or the palm; or of the moist, as of the myrtle and the ivy. But\nthe temperature of these preserves them, though not others; because in\nothers the vicious humor that holds the leaves is constipated by the\ncold, or being weak and little is dried up. Now moisture and heat are\nnecessary for the growth and preservation of plants, but especially of\nanimals; and on the contrary, coldness and dryness are very noxious\nto both. And therefore Homer elegantly calls men moist and juicy:\nto rejoice he calls to be warmed; and anything that is grievous and\nfrightful he calls cold and icy. Besides, the words [Greek omitted] and\n[Greek omitted] are applied to the dead, those names intimating their\nextreme dryness. But more, our blood, the principal thing in our whole\nbody, is moist and hot. And old age hath neither of those two qualities.\nNow the autumn seems to be as it were the old age of the decaying\nyear; for the moisture doth not yet fall, and the heat decays. And\nits inclining the body to diseases is an evident sign of its cold and\ndryness. Now it is necessary that the souls should be indisposed with\nthe bodies and that, the subtile spirit being condensed, the divining\nfaculty of the soul, like a glass that is breathed upon, should be\nsullied; and therefore it cannot represent anything plain, distinct, and\nclear, as long as it remains thick, dark, and condensed.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IX\n\nThis ninth book, Sossius Senecio, contains the discourses we held at\nAthens at the Muses feast, for this number nine is agreeable to the\nnumber of the Muses. Nor must you wonder when you find more than ten\nquestions (which number I have observed in my other books) in it; for we\nought to give the Muses all that belongs to them, and be as careful of\nrobbing them as of a temple, since we owe them much more and much better\nthings than these.\n\n\n\nQUESTION I. CONCERNING VERSES SEASONABLY AND UNSEASONABLY APPLIED.\n\nAMMONIUS, PLUTARCH, ERATO, CERTAIN SCHOOLMASTERS, AND FRIENDS OF\nAMMONIUS.\n\nAmmonius, captain of the militia at Athens, would show Diogenianus the\nproficiency of those youths that learned grammar, geometry, rhetoric,\nand music; and invited the chief masters of the town to supper.\nThere were a great many scholars at the feast, and almost all his\nacquaintance. Achilles invited only the single combatants to his feast,\nintending (as the story goes) that, if in the heat of the encounter they\nhad conceived any anger or ill-will against one another, they might then\nlay it aside, being made partakers of one common entertainment. But\nthe contrary happened to Ammonius, for the contentions of the masters\nincreased and grew more sharp midst their cups and merriment; and all\nwas disorder and confused babbling.\n\nTherefore Ammonius commanded Erato to sing to his harp, and he sang some\npart of Hesiod's Works beginning thus,\n\n     Contention to one sort is not confined;\n     (\"Works and Days,\" 11.)\n\nand I commended him for choosing so apposite a song. Then he began\nto discourse about the seasonable use of verse, that it was not only\npleasant but profitable. And straight every one's mouth was full of that\npoet who began Ptolemy's epithalamium (when he married his sister, a\nwicked and abominable match) thus,\n\n     Jove Juno called his sister and his wife;\n     (\"Iliad,\" xviii. 356.)\n\nand another, who refused to sing after supper to Demetrius the king, but\nafter he sent him his young son Philip to be educated sang thus,\n\n     Breed thou the boy as doth become\n     Both Hercules's race and us;\n\nand Anaxarchus who, being pelted with apples by Alexander at supper,\nrose up and said,\n\n     Some god shall wounded be by mortal hand.\n     (Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 271.)\n\nBut that Corinthian captive boy excelled all, who, when the city was\ndestroyed, and Mummius, taking a survey of all the free-born children\nthat understood letters, commanded each to write a verse, wrote thus:--\n\n     Thrice, four times blest, the happy Greeks that fell.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" v. 306.)\n\nFor they say that Mummius was affected with it, wept and gave all the\nfree-born children that were allied to the boy their liberty. And some\nmentioned the wife of Theodorus the tragedian, who refused his embraces\na little before he contended for the prize; but, when he was conqueror\nand came in unto her, clasped him and said,\n\n     Now, Agamemnon's son, you freely may\n     (Sophocles \"Electra,\" 2.)\n\nAfter this a great many sayings were mentioned as unseasonably spoken,\nit being fit that we should know such and avoid them;--as that to\nPompey the Great, to whom, upon his return from a dangerous war, the\nschoolmaster brought his little daughter, and, to show him what a\nproficient she was, called for a book, and bade her begin at this line,\n\n     Returned from war; but hadst thou there been slain,\n     My wish had been complete;\n     (\"Iliad,\" iii. 428.)\n\nand that to Cassius Longinus, to whom a flying report of his son's\ndying abroad being brought, and he no ways appearing either to know\nthe certain truth or to clear the doubt, an old senator came and said:\nLonginus, will you not despise the flying uncertain rumor, as if you did\nnot know nor had read this line,\n\n     For no report is wholly false?\n     (Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 763.)\n\nAnd he that at Rhodes, to a grammarian demanding a line upon which he\nmight show his skill in the theatre, proposed this,\n\n     Fly from the island, worst of all mankind,\n     (\"Odyssey,\" x. 72.)\n\neither slyly put a trick upon him, or unwittingly blundered. And this\ndiscourse quieted the tumult.\n\n\n\nQUESTIONS II. AND III. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT ALPHA IS PLACED FIRST IN\nTHE ALPHABET, AND WHAT IS THE PROPORTION BETWEEN THE NUMBER OF VOWELS\nAND SEMI-VOWELS?\n\nAMMONIUS, HERMEAS, PROTOGENES, PLUTARCH, ZOPYRION.\n\nIt being the custom of the Muses' feast to draw lots, and those that\nwere matched to propose curious questions to one another, Ammonius,\nfearing that two of the same profession might be matched together,\nordered, without drawing lots, a geometrician to propose questions to a\ngrammarian, and a master of music to a rhetorician.\n\nFirst, therefore, Hermeas the geometrician demanded of Protogenes the\ngrammarian a reason why Alpha was the first letter of the alphabet. And\nhe returned the common answer of the schools, that it was fit the vowels\nshould be set before the mutes and semi-vowels. And of the vowels, some\nbeing long, some short, some both long and short, it is just that the\nlatter should be most esteemed. And of these that are long and short,\nthat is to be set first which is usually placed before the other two,\nbut never after either; and that is Alpha. For that put after either\nIota or Upsilon will not be pronounced, will not make one syllable with\nthem, but as it were resenting the affront and angry at the position,\nseeks the first as its proper place. But if you place Alpha before\neither of those, they are obedient, and quietly join in one syllable,\nas in these words, [Greek omitted] and a thousand others. In these three\nrespects therefore, as the conquerors in all the five exercises, it\nclaims the precedence,--that of most other letters by being a vowel,\nthat of other vowels by being dichronous, and lastly, that of these\ndouble-timed vowels themselves because it is its nature to go before and\nnever after them.\n\nProtogenes making a pause, Ammonius, speaking to me, said: What! have\nyou, being a Boeotian, nothing to say for Cadmus, who (as the story\ngoes) placed Alpha the first in order, because a cow is called Alpha by\nthe Phoenicians, and they account it not the second or third (as\nHesiod doth) but the first of their necessary things? Nothing at all, I\nreplied, for it is just that, to the best of my power, I should rather\nassist my own than Bacchus's grandfather. For Lamprias my grandfather\nsaid, that the first articulate sound that is made is Alpha; for the air\nin the mouth is formed and fashioned by the motion of the lips; now as\nsoon as those are opened, that sound breaks forth, being very plain and\nsimple, not requiring or depending upon the motion of the tongue, but\ngently breathed forth whilst that lies still. And therefore that is the\nfirst sound that children make. Thus [Greek omitted], TO HEAR, [Greek\nomitted], TO SING, [Greek omitted], TO PIPE, [Greek omitted], TO HOLLOW,\nbegin with the letter Alpha; and I think that [Greek omitted], TO LIFT\nUP, and [Greek omitted], TO OPEN, were fitly taken from that opening and\nlifting up of the lips when his voice is uttered. Thus all the names of\nthe mutes besides one have an Alpha, as it were a light to assist their\nblindness; for Pi alone wants it, and Phi and Chi are only Pi and Kappa\nwith an aspirate.\n\n\nHermeas saying that he approved both reasons, why then (continued I) do\nnot you explain the proportion, if there be any, of the number of the\nletters; for, in my opinion, there is; and I think so, because the\nnumber of mutes and semi-vowels, compared between themselves or with the\nvowels, doth not seem casual and undesigned, but to be according to the\nfirst proportion which you call arithmetical. For their number being\nnine, eight, and seven, the middle exceeds the last as much as it wants\nof the first. And the first number being compared with the last,\nhath the same proportion that the Muses have to Apollo; for nine is\nappropriated to them, and seven to him. And these two numbers\ntied together double the middle; and not without reason, since the\nsemi-vowels partake the power of both.\n\nAnd Hermeas replied: It is said that Mercury was the first god that\ndiscovered letters in Egypt; and therefore the Egyptians make the figure\nof an Ibis, a bird dedicated to Mercury, for the first letter. But it\nis not fit, in my opinion, to place an animal that makes no noise at the\nhead of the letters. Amongst all the numbers the fourth is peculiarly\ndedicated to Mercury, because, as some say, the god was born on the\nfourth day of the month. And the first letters called Phoenician from\nCadmus are four times four, or sixteen; and of those that were afterward\nadded, Palamedes found four, and Simonides four more. Now amongst\nnumbers, three is the first perfect, as consisting of a first, a middle,\nand a last; and after that six, as being equal the sum of its own\ndivisors (1+2+3). Of these, six multiplied by four makes twenty-four;\nand also the first perfect number, three, multiplied by the first cube,\neight, make the same.\n\nWhilst he was discoursing thus, Zopyrion the grammarian sneered and\nmuttered between his teeth; and, as soon as he had done, cried out that\nhe most egregiously trifled; for it was mere chance, and not design,\nthat gave such a number and order to the letters, as it was mere chance\nthat the first and last verses of Homer's Iliads have just as many\nsyllables as the first and last of his Odysseys.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHICH OF VENUS'S HANDS DIOMEDES WOUNDED.\n\nHERMEAS, ZOPYRION, MAXIMUS.\n\nHermeas would have replied to Zopyrion, but we desired him to hold; and\nMaximus the rhetorician proposed to him this far-fetched question out of\nHomer, Which of Venus's hands Diomedes wounded. And Zopyrion presently\nasking him again, of which leg was Philip lame?--Maximus replied, It is\na different case, for Demosthenes hath left us no foundation upon which\nwe may build our conjecture. But if you confess your ignorance in this\nmatter, others will show how the poet sufficiently intimates to an\nunderstanding man which hand it was. Zopyrion being at a stand, we all,\nsince he made no reply, desired Maximus to tell us.\n\nAnd he began: The verses running thus\n\n     Then Diomedes raised his mighty spear,\n     And leaping towards her just did graze her hand;\n     (\"Iliad,\" v. 335.  It is evident from what follows that\n     Plutarch interprets [Greek omitted] in this passage HAVING\n     LEAPED TO ONE SIDE. (G.))\n\nit is evident that, if he designed to wound her left hand, there had\nbeen no need of leaping, since her left hand was opposite to his right.\nBesides, it is probable that he would endeavor to wound the strongest\nhand, and that with which she drew away Aeneas; and which being wounded,\nit was likely she would let him go. But more, after she returned to\nHeaven, Minerva jeeringly said,\n\n     No doubt fair Venus won a Grecian dame,\n     To follow her beloved Trojan youths,\n     And as she gently stroked her with her hand,\n     Her golden buckler scratched this petty wound.\n     (\"Iliad\", v. 422.)\n\nAnd I suppose, you sir, when you stroke any of your scholars, you use\nyour right hand, and not your left; and it is likely that Venus, the\nmost skilful of all the goddesses, soothed the heroines after the same\nmanner.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. WHY PLATO SAYS THAT AJAX'S SOUL CAME TO DRAW HER LOT IN THE\nTWENTIETH PLACE IN HELL.\n\nHYLAS, SOSPIS, AMMONIUS, LAMPRIAS.\n\nThese discourses made all the other company merry; but Sospis the\nrhetorician, seeing Hylas the grammarian sit silent and discomposed (for\nhe had not been very happy in his exercises), cried out,\n\n     But Ajax's soul stood far apart;\n\nand raising his voice repeated the rest to him,\n\n     But sit, draw near, and patiently attend,\n     Hear what I say, and tame, your violent rage.\n\nTo this Hylas, unable to contain, returned a scurvy answer saying that\nAjax's soul, taking her lot in the twentieth place in hell, changed her\nnature, according to Plato, for a lion's; but, for his part, he could\nnot but often think upon the saying of the old comedian,\n\n     'Tis better far to be an ass than see\n     Unworthwhile men in greater honor shine\n\nAt this Sospis, laughing heartily, said: But in the meantime, before we\nhave the pack-saddles on, if you have any regard for Plato, tell us\nwhy he makes Ajax's soul, after the lots drawn, to have the twentieth\nchoice. Hylas, with great indignation, refused, thinking that this was\na jeering reflection on his former miscarriage. And therefore my brother\nbegan thus: What, was not Ajax counted the second for beauty, strength,\nand courage, and the next to Achilles in the Grecian army? And twenty is\nthe second ten, and ten is the chiefest of numbers, as Achilles of the\nGreeks. We laughing at this, Ammonius said: Well, Lamprias, let this\nsuffice for a joke upon Hylas; but since you have voluntarily taken upon\nyou to give an account of this matter, leave off jesting, and seriously\nproceed.\n\nThis startled Lamprias a little, but, after a short pause, he continued\nthus: Plato often tells merry stories under borrowed names, but when\nhe puts any fable into a discourse concerning the soul, he hath some\nconsiderable meaning in it. The intelligent nature of the heavens he\ncalls a flying chariot, intimating the harmonious whirl of the world.\nAnd here he introduceth one Er, the son of Harmonius, a Pamphylian, to\ntell what he had seen in hell; intimating that our souls are begotten\naccording to harmony, and are agreeably united to our bodies, and that,\nwhen they are separated, they are from all parts carried together into\nthe air, and from thence return to second generations. And what hinders\nbut that [Greek omitted] twentieth should intimate that this was not a\ntrue story, but only probable and fictitious [Greek omitted], and that\nthe lot fell casually [Greek omitted]. For Plato always toucheth upon\nthree causes, he being the first and chiefest philosopher that knew\nhow fate accords with fortune, and how our free-will is mixed and\ncomplicated with both. And now he hath admirably discovered what\ninfluence each hath upon our affairs. The choice of our life he hath\nleft to our free-will, for virtue and vice are free. But that those who\nhave made a good choice should live religiously, and those who have made\nan ill choice should lead a contrary life, he leaves to the necessity of\nfate. But the chances of lots thrown at a venture introduce fortune into\nthe several conditions of life in which we are brought up, and which\npre-occupates and perverts our own choice. Now consider whether it is\nnot irrational to inquire after a cause of those things that are done by\nchance. For if the lot seems to be disposed of by design, it ceaseth to\nbe chance and fortune, and becomes fate and providence.\n\nWhilst Lamprias was speaking, Marcus the grammarian seemed to be\ncounting to himself, and when he had done, he began thus: Amongst the\nsouls which Homer mentions in his [Greek omitted], Elpenor's is not to\nbe reckoned as mixed with those in hell, but, his body being not buried,\nas wandering about the banks of the river Styx. Nor is it fit that we\nshould reckon Tiresias's soul amongst the rest,--\n\n     On whom alone, when deep in hell beneath,\n     Wisdom Proserpina conferred,\n\nto discourse and converse with the living even before he drank the\nsacrifice's blood. Therefore, Lamprias, if you subtract these two,\nyou will find that Ajax was the twentieth that Ulysses saw, and Plato\nmerrily alludes to that place in Homer's [Greek omitted].\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. WHAT IS SIGNIFIED BY THE FABLE ABOUT THE DEFEAT OF\nNEPTUNE? AND ALSO, WHY DO THE ATHENIANS OMIT THE SECOND DAY OF THE MONTH\nBOEDROMION?\n\nMENEPHYLUS, HYLAS, LAMPRIAS.\n\nWhile all were making a disturbance, Menephylus, a Peripatetic\nphilosopher, addressing Hylas: You see, he said, how this investigation\nis no foolery nor insolence. But leave now, my dear fellow, that\nobstinate Ajax, whose name is ill-omened, as Sophocles says, and\nside with Poseidon, whom you yourself are wont to tell has often been\novercome, once by Athene here, in Delphi by Apollo, in Argos by Here, in\nAegina by Zeus, in Naxos by Bacchus, yet in his misfortunes has always\nbeen mild and amiable. Here at least he shares a temple in common with\nAthene, in which there is an altar dedicated to Lethe. And Hylas, as if\nhe had become better tempered: One thing has escaped you, Menephylus,\nthat we have given up the second day of September, not on account of the\nmoon, but because on that day the gods seemed to have contended for the\ncountry. By all means, said Lamprias, by as much as Poseidon was more\ncivilized than Thrasybulus, since not like him a winner but a loser....\n\n(The rest of this book to Question XIII is lost; with the exception of\nthe titles that follow, and the fragment of Question XII.)\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. WHY THE ACCORDS IN MUSIC ARE SEPARATED INTO THREE.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHEREIN THE INTERVALS MELODIOUS DIFFER FROM THOSE THAT\nARE HARMONIC.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. WHAT IS THE CAUSE OF ACCORD? AND ALSO, WHY, WHEN TWO\nACCORDANT STRINGS ARE TOUCHED TOGETHER, IS THE MELODY ASCRIBED TO THE\nBASE?\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHY, WHEN THE ECLIPTIC PERIODS OF THE SUN AND THE MOON ARE\nEQUAL IN NUMBER, THE MOON APPEARS OFTENER ECLIPSED THAN THE SUN.\n\n\n\nQUESTION XI. THAT WE CONTINUE NOT ALWAYS THE SAME, IN REGARD OF THE\nDEFLUX OF OUR SUBSTANCE.\n\n\n\nQUESTION XII. IS IT MORE PROBABLE THAT THE NUMBER OF THE STARS IS EVEN\nOR ODD?\n\nMen must be cheated by oaths. And Glaucias said: I have heard this\nsaying used against Polycrates the tyrant; probably too it was said\nagainst others: but why do you ask these questions? Because, by Zeus,\nsaid Sospis, I see the children playing odd and even with jackstones\nand the Academics with words. For such tempers as these differ in no\nway from those who ask whether they hold clutched in their hands odd or\neven. Then Protogenes stood up and called me by name: What is the matter\nwith us that we allow these rhetoricians to be so conceited, and to\nlaugh down others while they are asked nothing, and contribute nothing\nin the way of argument,--unless they swear that they have no part in the\nwine as admirers and disciples of Demosthenes, a man who in his whole\nlife never drank wine. That is not the cause of this, said I; but we\nhave never asked them anything. But unless you have something more\nuseful, I think I can put before them from Homer's poetry a case of\nantinomy in rhetorical theses.\n\n\n\nQUESTION XIII. A MOOT-POINT OUT OF THE THIRD BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIADS.\n\nPLUTARCH, PROTOGENES, GLAUCIAS, SOSPIS.\n\nWhat question will you put them, said Protogenes? I will tell you,\ncontinued I, and let them carefully attend. Paris makes his challenge in\nthese express words:--\n\n     Let me and valiant Menelaus fight\n     For Helen, and for all the goods she brought;\n     And he that shall o'ercome, let him enjoy\n     The goods and woman; let them be his own.\n\nAnd Hector afterwards publicly proclaiming this challenge in these plain\nwords:--\n\n     He bids the Trojans and the valiant Greeks\n     To fix their arms upon the fruitful ground;\n     Let Menelaus and stout Paris fight\n     For all the goods; and he that beats have all.\n\nMenelaus accepted the challenge, and the conditions were sworn to,\nAgamemnon dictating thus:--\n\n     If Paris valiant Menelaus kills,\n     Let him have Helen, and the goods possess;\n     If youthful Menelaus Paris kills,\n     The woman and the goods shall all be his.\n     (See \"Iliad,\" iii. 68, 88, 255, and 281.)\n\nNow since Menelaus only overcame but did not kill Paris, each party hath\nsomewhat to say for itself, and against the other. The one may demand\nrestitution, because Paris was overcome; the other deny it, because he\nwas not killed. Now how to determine this case and clear the seeming\nrepugnancies doth not belong to philosophers or grammarians, but to\nrhetoricians, that are well skilled both in grammar and philosophy.\n\nThen Sospis said: The challenger's word decides; for the challenger\nproposed the conditions, and when they were accepted, the opposite\nparty had no power to make additions. Now the condition proposed in this\nchallenge was not killing, but overcoming; and there was reason that\nit should be so, for Helen ought to be the wife of the bravest. Now the\nbravest is he that overcomes; for it often happens that an excellent\nsoldier might be killed by a coward, as is evident in what happened\nafterward, when Achilles was shot by Paris. For I do not believe that\nyou will affirm, that Achilles was not so brave a man as Paris because\nhe was killed by him, and that it should be called the victory, and not\nrather the unjust good fortune, of him that shot him. But Hector was\novercome before he was killed by Achilles, because he would not stand,\nbut trembled and fled at his approach. For he that refuseth the combat\nor flies cannot palliate his defeat, and plainly grants that his\nadversary is the better man. And therefore Iris tells Helen beforehand,\n\n     In single combat they shall fight for you,\n     And you shall be the glorious victor's wife.\n     (2 Ibid. iii. 137.)\n\nAnd Jupiter afterwards adjudges the victory to Menelaus in these words:\n\n     The conquest leans to Menelaus's side.\n     (3 Ibid. iv. 13.)\n\nFor it would be ridiculous to call Menelaus a conqueror when he shot\nPodes, a man at a great distance, before he thought of or could provide\nagainst his danger, and yet not allow him the reward of conquest over\nhim whom he made fly and sneak into the embraces of his wife, and whom\nhe spoiled of his arms whilst he was yet alive, and who had himself\noffered the challenge, by the articles of which Menelaus now appeared to\nbe the conqueror.\n\nGlaucias subjoined: in all laws, decrees, contracts, and promises, those\nlatest made are always accounted more valid than the former. Now the\nlater contract was Agamemnon's, the condition of which was killing,\nand not only overcoming. Besides the former was mere words, the latter\nconfirmed by oath; and, by the consent of all, those were cursed that\nbroke them; so that this latter was properly the contract, and the other\na bare challenge. And this Priam at his going away, after he had sworn\nto the conditions, confirms by these words:--\n\n     But Jove and other gods alone do know,\n     Which is designed to see the shades below;\n     (\"Iliad,\" iii. 308.)\n\nfor he understood that to be the condition of the contract. And\ntherefore a little after Hector says,\n\n     But Jove hath undetermined left our oaths,\n     (Ibid. vii. 69.)\n\nfor the combat had not its designed and indisputable determination,\nsince neither of them fell. Therefore this question doth not seem to\nme to contain any contrariety of law, since the former contract is\ncomprised and overruled by the latter; for he that kills certainly\novercomes, but he that overcomes doth not always kill. But, in short,\nAgamemnon did not annul, but only explain the challenge proposed by\nHector. He did not change anything, but only added the most principal\npart, placing victory in killing; for that is a complete conquest, but\nall others may be evaded or disputed, as this of Menelaus, who neither\nwounded nor pursued his adversary. Now as, where there are laws really\ncontrary, the judges take that side which is plain and indisputable,\nand mind not that which is obscure; so in this case, let us admit\nthat contract to be most valid which contained killing, as a known and\nundeniable evidence of victory. But (which is the greatest argument) he\nthat seems to have had the victory, not being quiet, but running up and\ndown the army, and searching all about,\n\n     To find neat Paris in the busy throng,\n     (Ibid. iii. 450.)\n\nsufficiently testifies that he himself did not imagine that the conquest\nwas perfect and complete. For when Paris had escaped he did not forget\nhis own words:--\n\n     And which of us black fate and death design,\n     Let him be lost; the others cease from war.\n     (Iliad, iii. 101,)\n\nTherefore it was necessary for him to seek after Paris, that he might\nkill him and complete the combat; but since he neither killed nor took\nhim, he had no right to the prize. For he did not conquer him, if we may\nguess by what he said when he expostulated with Jove and bewailed his\nunsuccessful attempt:--\n\n     Jove, Heaven holds no more spiteful god than thou.\n     Now would I punish Paris for his crimes;\n     But oh! my sword is broke, my mighty spear,\n     Stretched out in vain, flies idly from my hand!\n     (Ibid. iii, 365.)\n\nFor in these words he confessed that it was to no purpose to pierce\nthe shield or take the head-piece of his adversary, unless he likewise\nwounded or killed him.\n\n\n\nQUESTION XIV. SOME OBSERVATIONS ABOUT THE NUMBER OF THE MUSES, NOT\nCOMMONLY KNOWN.\n\nHERODES, AMMONIUS, LAMPRIAS, TRYPHON, DIONYSIUS, MENEPHYLUS, PLUTARCH.\n\nThis discourse ended, we poured out our offerings to the Muses, and\ntogether with a hymn in honor of Apollo, the patron of the Muses, we\nsung with Erato, who played upon the harp, the generation of the Muses\nout of Hesiod. After the song was done, Herod the rhetorician said:\nPray, sirs, hearken. Those that will not admit Calliope to be ours say\nthat she keeps company with kings, not such, I suppose, as are busied\nin resolving syllogisms or disputing, but such who do those things that\nbelong to rhetoricians and statesmen. But of the rest of the Muses, Clio\nabets encomiums, for praises are called [Greek omitted]; and Polymnia\nhistory, for her name signifies the remembrance of many things; and it\nis said that all the Muses were somewhere called Remembrances. And for\nmy part, I think Euterpe hath some relation to us too, if (as Chrysippus\nsays) her lot be agreeableness in discourse and pleasantness in\nconversation. For it belongs to an orator to converse, as well as plead\nor give advice; since it is his part to gain the favor of his auditors,\nand to defend or excuse his client. To praise or dispraise is the\ncommonest theme; and if we manage this artfully, it will turn to\nconsiderable account; if unskilfully, we are lost. For that saying,\n\n     Gods! how he is honored and beloved by all,\n     (\"Odyssey,\" x. 38.)\n\nchiefly, in my opinion, belongs to those men who have a pleasing and\npersuasive faculty in discourse.\n\nThen said Ammonius to Herod: We have no reason to be angry with you for\ngrasping all the Muses, since the goods that friends have are common,\nand Jove hath begotten a great many Muses, that every man may be\nplentifully supplied; for we do not all need skill in hunting, military\narts, navigation, or any mechanical trades; but learning and instruction\nis necessary for every one that\n\n     Consumes the fruits of the spacious earth.\n     (From Simonides.)\n\nAnd therefore Jove made but one Minerva, one Diana, one Vulcan, but many\nMuses. But why there should be nine, and no more nor less, pray acquaint\nus; for you, so great a lover of, and so well acquainted with, the\nMuses, must certainly have considered this matter. What difficulty is\nthere in that? replied Herod. The number nine is in everybody's mouth,\nas being the first square of the first odd number; and as doubly odd,\nsince it may be divided into three equal odd numbers. Ammonius with a\nsmile subjoined: Boldly said; and pray add, that this number is\ncomposed of the two first cubes, one and eight, and according to another\ncomposition of two triangles, three and six, each of which is itself\nperfect. But why should this belong to the Muses more than any other of\nthe gods? For we have nine Muses, but not nine Cereses, nine Minervas or\nDianas. For I do not believe that you take it for a good argument,\nthat the Muses must be so many, because their mother's name (Mnemosyne)\nconsists of just so many letters. Herod smiling, and everybody being\nsilent, Ammonius desired our opinions.\n\nMy brother said, that the ancients celebrated but three Muses, and that\nto bring proofs for this assertion would be pedantic and uncivil in such\na company. The reason of this number was (not as some say) the three\ndifferent sorts of music, the diatonic, the chromatic, and harmonic, nor\nthose stops that make the intervals nete, mese, and hypate, though\nthe Delphians gave the Muses this name erroneously, in my opinion,\nappropriating it to one science, or rather to a part of one single\nscience, the harmoniac part of music. But, as I think, the ancients,\nreducing all arts and sciences which are executed and performed\nby reason or discourse to three heads, philosophy, rhetoric, and\nmathematics, accounted them the gifts of three gods, and named them the\nMuses. Afterwards, about Hesiod's time, the sciences being better and\nmore thoroughly looked into, and men subdividing them found that each\nscience contained three different parts. In mathematics are comprehended\nmusic, arithmetic, and geometry; in philosophy are logic, ethics, and\nphysics. In rhetoric, they say the first part was demonstrative or\nencomiastic, the second deliberative, the third judicial. None of all\nwhich they believed to be without a god or a Muse or some superior power\nfor its patron, and did not, it is probable, make the Muses equal in\nnumber to these divisions, but found them to be so. Now, as you may\ndivide nine into three threes, and each three into as many units;\nso there is but one rectitude of reason, which is employed about the\nhighest truth, and which belongs to the whole in common, while each of\nthe three kinds of science is assigned three Muses, and each of these\nhas her distinct faculty assigned to her, which she disposes and orders.\nAnd I do not think the poets and astrologers will find fault with us for\npassing over their professions in silence, since they know, as well as\nwe, that astrology is comprehended in geometry, and poetry in music.\n\nAs soon as he had said this, Trypho the physician subjoined: How hath\nour art offended you, that you have shut the Museum against us? And\nDionysius of Melite added: Sir, you have a great many that will side\nwith you in the accusation; for we farmers think Thalia to be ours,\nassigning her the care of springing and budding seeds and plants. But\nI interposing said: Your accusation is not just; for you have bountiful\nCeres, and Bacchus who (as Pindar phraseth it) increaseth the trees, the\nchaste beauty of the fruits; and we know that Aesculapius is the patron\nof the Physicians, and they make their address to Apollo as Paean, but\nnever as the Muses' leader. All men (as Homer says) stand in need of the\ngods, but all stand not in need of all. But I wonder Lamprias did not\nmind what the Delphians say in this matter; for they affirm that the\nMuses amongst them were not named so either from the strings or sounds\nin music; but the universe being divided into three parts, the first\nportion was of the fixed stars, the second of the planets, the third of\nthose things that are under the concave of the moon; and all these are\nordered according to harmonical proportions, and of each portion a\nMuse takes care; Hypate of the first, Nete of the last, and Mese in the\nmiddle, combining as much as possible, and turning about mortal things\nwith the gods and earthly with heavenly. And Plato intimates the same\nthing under the names of the Fates, calling one Atropos, the other\nLachesis, and the other Clotho. For he hath committed the revolutions of\nthe eight spheres to so many Sirens, and not Muses.\n\nThen Menephylus the Peripatetic subjoined: The Delphians' opinion hath\nindeed somewhat of probability in it; but Plato is absurd in committing\nthe eternal and divine revolutions not to the Muses but to the Sirens,\nDaemons that neither love nor are benevolent to mankind, wholly passing\nby the Muses, or calling them by the names of the Fates, the daughters\nof Necessity. For Necessity is averse to the Muses; but Persuasion being\nmore agreeable and better acquainted with them, in my opinion, than the\ngrace of Empedocles,\n\n     Intolerable Necessity abhors.\n\nNo doubt, said Ammonius, as it is in us a violent and involuntary\ncause; but in the gods Necessity is not intolerable, uncontrollable, or\nviolent, unless it be to the wicked; as the law in a commonwealth to\nthe best man is its best gift, not to be violated or transgressed, not\nbecause they have no power, but because they have no will, to change it.\nAnd Homer's Sirens give us no just reason to be afraid; for he in that\nfable rightly intimates the power of their music not to be hurtful to\nman, but delightfully charming, and detaining the souls which pass\nfrom hence thither and wander after death; working in them a love for\nheavenly and divine things, and a forgetfulness of everything on earth;\nand they extremely pleased follow and attend them. And from thence some\nimperfect sound, and as it were echo of that music, coming to us by the\nmeans of reason and good precepts, rouseth our souls, and restores the\nnotice of those things to our minds, the greatest part of which\nlie encumbered with and entangled in disturbances of the flesh and\ndistracting passions. But the generous soul hears and remembers, and\nher affection for those pleasures riseth up to the most ardent passion,\nwhilst she eagerly desires but is not able to free herself from the\nbody.\n\nIt is true, I do not approve what he says; but Plato seems to me, as he\nhath strangely and unaccountably called the axes spindles and distaffs,\nand the stars whirls, so to have named the Muses Sirens, as delivering\ndivine things to the ghosts below, as Ulysses in Sophocles says of the\nSirens,\n\n     I next to Phorcus's daughters came,\n     Who fix the sullen laws below.\n\nEight of the Muses take care of the spheres, and one of all about the\nearth. The eight who govern the motions of the spheres maintain the\nagreement of the planets with the fixed stars and one another. But that\none who looks after the place betwixt the earth and moon and takes care\nof mortal things, by means of discourse and song introduceth persuasion,\naiding our natural consent to community and agreement, and giveth men\nas much harmony, grace, and order as is possible for them to take;\nintroducing this persuasion to appease and quiet our disturbances, and\nas it were to recall our wandering desires out of the wrong way, and to\nset us in the right path. But, as Pindar says,\n\n     Whom Jove abhors, he starts to hear\n     The Muses sounding in his ear.\n     (Pindar, \"Pythian,\" i. 25.)\n\nTo this discourse Ammonius, as he used to do, subjoined that verse of\nXenophanes,\n\n     This fine discourse seems near allied to truth,\n\nand desired every one to deliver his opinion. And I after a short\nsilence, said: As Plato thinks by the name, as it were by tracks, to\ndiscover the powers of the gods, so let us place in heaven and over\nheavenly things one of the Muses, Urania. And it is likely that those\nrequire no distracting variety of cares to govern them, since they have\nthe same single nature for the cause of all their motions. But where are\na great many irregularities and disorders, there we must place the eight\nMuses, that we may have one to correct each particular irregularity and\nmiscarriage. There are two parts in a man's life, the serious and the\nmerry; and each must be regulated and methodized. The serious role,\nwhich instructs us in the knowledge and contemplation of the gods,\nCalliope, Clio, and Thalia appear chiefly to look after and direct.\nThe other Muses govern our weak part, which changes presently into\nwantonness and folly; they do not neglect our brutish and violent\npassions and let them run their own course, but by appropriate dancing,\nmusic, song, and orderly motion mixed with reason, bring them down to\na moderate temper and condition. For my part, since Plato admits two\nprinciples of every action, viz, the natural desire after pleasure, and\nacquired opinion which covets and wishes for the best, and calls one\nreason and the other passion, and since each of these is manifold,\nI think that each requires a considerable and, to speak the truth, a\ndivine direction. For instance, one faculty of our reason is said to be\npolitical or imperial, over which Hesiod says Calliope presides; Clio's\nprovince is the noble and aspiring; and Polymnia's that faculty of the\nsoul which inclines to attain and keep knowledge (and therefore the\nSicyonians call one of their three Muses Polymathia); to Euterpe\neverybody allows the searches into nature and physical speculations,\nthere being no greater, no sincerer pleasure belonging to any other sort\nof speculation in the world. The natural desire to meat and drink Thalia\nreduceth from brutish and uncivil to be sociable and friendly; and\ntherefore we say [Greek omitted] of those that are friendly, merry, and\nsociable over their cups, and not of those that are quarrelsome and mad.\nErato, together with Persuasion, that brings along with it reason and\nopportunity, presides over marriages; she takes away and extinguisheth\nall the violent fury of pleasure, and makes it tend to friendship,\nmutual confidence, and endearment, and not to effeminacy, lust, or\ndiscontent. The delight which the eye or ear receives is a sort of\npleasure, either appropriate to reason or to passion, or common to them\nboth. This the two other Muses, Terpsichore and Melpomene, so moderate,\nthat the one may only tickle and not charm, the other only please and\nnot bewitch.\n\n\n\nQUESTION XV. THAT THERE ARE THREE PARTS IN DANCING: [Greek omitted],\nMOTION, [Greek omitted], GESTURE, AND [Greek omitted], REPRESENTATION.\nWHAT EACH OF THOSE IS AND WHAT IS COMMON TO BOTH POETRY AND DANCING.\n\nAMMONIUS AND THRASYBULUS.\n\nAfter this, a match of dancing was proposed, and a cake was the prize.\nThe judges were Meniscus the dancing-master, and my brother Lamprias;\nfor he danced the Pyrrhic very well, and in the Palaestra none could\nmatch him for the graceful motion of his hands and arms in dancing. Now\na great many dancing with more heat than art, some desired two of the\ncompany who seemed to be best skilled and took most care to observe\ntheir steps, to dance in the kind called [Greek omitted]. Upon this\nThrasybulus, the son of Ammonius, demanded what [Greek omitted]\nsignified, and gave Ammonius occasion to run over most of the parts of\ndancing.\n\nHe said they were three,--[Greek omitted], [Greek omitted] and [Greek\nomitted]. For dancing is made up of motion and manner [Greek omitted]\nas a song of sounds and stops; stops are the ends of motion. Now the\nmotions they call [Greek omitted], and the gestures and likeness\nto which the motions tend, and in which they end, they call [Greek\nomitted]: as, for instance, when by their own motions they represent the\nfigure of Apollo, Pan, or any of the raging Bacchae. The third is [Greek\nomitted]; which is not an imitation, but a plain downright indication\nof the things represented. For as the poets, when they would speak of\nAchilles, Ulysses, the earth, or heaven, use their proper names,\nand such as the vulgar usually understand. But for the more lively\nrepresentation, they use such words as by their very sound express\nsome eminent quality in the thing, or metaphors; as when they say that\nstreams do \"babble and flash\"; that arrows fly \"desirous the flesh to\nwound\"; or when they describe an equal battle by saying \"the fight had\nequal heads.\" They have likewise a great many significative compositions\nin their verses. Thus Euripides of Perseus,\n\n     He that Medusa slew, and flies in air;\n\nand Pindar of a horse,\n\n     When by the smooth Alpheus's banks\n     He ran the race, and never felt the spur;\n\nand Homer of a race,\n\n     The chariots, overlaid with tin and brass,\n     By fiery horses drawn ran swiftly on.\n     (Euripedes, Frag. 975; Pindar, \"Olympian,\" i. 31;\n     \"Iliad,\" xxiii. 503.)\n\nSo in dancing, the [Greek omitted] represents the shape and figure, the\n[Greek omitted] shows some action, passion, or power; but by the [Greek\nomitted] are properly and significatively shown the things themselves,\nfor instance, the heaven, earth, or the company. Which, being done in\na certain order and method, resembles the proper names used in poetry,\ndecently clothed and attended with suitable epithets. As in these lines,\n\n     Themis the venerable and admired,\n     And Venus beauteous with her bending brows,\n     Fair Dione, and June crowned with gold.\n     (Hesiod, \"Theogony,\" 16.)\n\nAnd in these,\n\n     From Hellen kings renowned for giving laws,\n     Great Dorus and the mighty Xuthus sprang,\n     And Aeolus, whose chief delight was horse.\n\nFor if poets did not take this liberty, how mean, how grovelling and\nflat, would be their verse! As suppose they wrote thus,\n\n     From this sprung Hercules, from the other Iphitus.\n     Her father, husband, and her son were kings,\n     Her brother and forefathers were the same;\n     And she in Greece Olympias was called.\n\nThe same faults may be committed in that sort of dancing called [Greek\nomitted] unless the representation be lively and graceful, decent and\nunaffected. And, in short, we may aptly transfer what Simonides said of\npainting to dancing, and call dancing mute poetry, and poetry speaking\ndancing; for poesy doth not properly belong to painting, nor painting\nto poesy, neither do they any way make use of one another. But poesy\nand dancing share much in common especially in that type of song called\nHyporchema, in which is the most lively representation imaginable,\ndancing doing it by gesture, and poesy by words. So that poesy may bear\nsome resemblance to the colors in painting, while dancing is like the\nlines which mark out the features. And therefore he who was the\nmost famous writer of Hyporchemes, who here even surpassed himself,\nsufficiently proveth that these two arts stand in need of one another he\nshows what tendency poetry hath to dancing; whilst the sound excites the\nhands and feet, or rather as it were by some cords distends and raiseth\nevery member of the whole body; so that, whilst such songs are recited\nor sung, they cannot be quiet. But nowadays no sort of exercise hath\nsuch bad depraved music applied to it as dancing; and so it suffers that\nwhich Ibyeus as to his own concerns was fearful of, as appears by these\nlines,\n\n     I fear lest, losing fame amongst the gods,\n     I shall receive respect from men alone.\n\nFor having associated to itself a mean paltry sort of music, and falling\nfrom that divine sort of poetry with which it was formerly acquainted,\nit rules now and domineers amongst foolish and inconsiderate spectators,\nlike a tyrant, it hath subjected nearly all music, but hath lost all its\nhonor with excellent and wise men.\n\nThese, my Sossius Senecio, were almost the last discourses which we had\nat Ammonius's house during the festival of the Muses.\n\n\nEND OF FIVE------------\n\n\n\n\nCOMMON CONCEPTIONS AGAINST THE STOICS.\n\nLAMPRIAS, DIADUMENUS\n\nLAMPRIAS. You, O Diadumenus, seem not much to care, if any one thinks\nthat you philosophize against the common notions; since you confess that\nyou contemn also the senses, from whence the most part of these notions\nin a manner proceed, having for their seat and foundation the belief of\nsuch things as appear to us. But I beseech you, with what speed you can,\neither by reasons, incantations, or some other manner of discourse, to\ncure me, who come to you full, as I seem to myself, of great and strange\nperturbations; so much have I been shaken, and into such a perplexity of\nmind have I been brought, by certain Stoics, in other things indeed very\ngood men and my familiar friends, but most bitterly and hostility bent\nagainst the Academy. These, for some few words modestly spoken by me,\nhave (for I will tell you no lie) rudely and unkindly reprehended me;\nangrily censuring and branding the ancient philosophers as Sophists\nand corrupters of philosophy, and subverters of regular doctrines; and\nsaying things yet more absurd than these, they fell at last upon the\nconceptions, into which (they contend) the Academics had brought a\ncertain confusion and disturbance. At length one of them said, that he\nthought it was not by fortune, but by the providence of the gods, that\nChrysippus came into the world after Arcesilaus and before Carneades;\nof which the one was the author of the contumelies and injuries done to\ncustom, and the other flourished most of all the Academics. Chrysippus\nthen, coming between them, by his writings against Arcesilaus, stopped\nalso the way against the eloquence of Carneades, leaving indeed many\nthings to the senses, as provisions against a siege, but wholly taking\naway the trouble about anticipations and conceptions, directing every\none of them and putting it in its proper place; so that they who will\nagain embroil and disquiet matters should gain nothing, but be convinced\nof being malicious and deceitful Sophists. I, having been this\nmorning set on fire by these discourses, want some cooling remedies to\nextinguish and take away this doubting, as an inflammation, out of my\nmind.\n\nDIADUMENUS. You perhaps have suffered the same things with some of the\nvulgar. But if you believe the poets, who say that the ancient city\nSipylus was overthrown by the providence of the gods when they punished\nTantalus, believe also the companions of the Stoa saying that Nature,\nnot by chance but by divine providence, brought forth Chrysippus, when\nshe had a mind to turn things upside down and alter the course of life;\nfor which purpose never any man was fitter than he. But as Cato said of\nCaesar, that never any but he came to the management of public affairs\nsober and considerately resolved on the ruin of the state; so does this\nman seem to me with the greatest diligence and eloquence to overturn and\ndemolish custom, as those who magnify the man testify, when they dispute\nagainst him concerning the sophism called Pseudomenos (or the Liar). For\nto say, my best friend, that a conclusion drawn from contrary positions\nis not manifestly false, and again to say that some arguments having\ntrue premises and true inductions may yet moreover have the contrary\nto their conclusions true, what conception of demonstration or what\nassumption of confidence does it not overthrow? They say, that the\npolypus in the winter gnaws his own claws; but the logic of Chrysippus,\ntaking away and cutting off its own chiefest parts and principles,--what\nother notion has it left unsuspected of falsehood? For the\nsuperstructures cannot be steady and sure, if the foundations remain not\nfirm but are shaken with so many doubts and troubles. But as those who\nhave dust or dirt upon their bodies, if they touch or rub the filth that\nis upon them, seem rather to increase than remove it; so some men blame\nthe Academics, and think them guilty of the faults with which they\nshow themselves to be burdened. For who do more subvert the common\nconceptions than the Stoic school? But if you please, let us leave\naccusing them, and defend ourselves from the things with which they\ncharge us.\n\nLAMPRIAS. Methinks, Diadumenus, I am this day become a various and\nunconstant man. For erewhile I came dejected and trembling, as one that\nwanted an apology; and now I am changed to an accuser, and desire\nto enjoy the pleasure of revenge, in seeing them all convicted of\nphilosophizing against the common conceptions and presumptions, on which\nthey think chiefly their doctrine is founded, whence they say that it\nalone agrees with Nature.\n\nDIADUMENUS. Shall we then first attack those common and celebrated\ndoctrines of theirs which themselves, gently admitting their absurdity,\nstyle paradoxes; as that only wise men are kings, that they only are\nrich and fair, they only citizens and judges? Or shall we send all this\nto the brokers, as old decayed frippery, and make our inquiry into such\nthings as are most practical and with the greatest earnestness delivered\nby them?\n\nLAMPRIAS. I indeed like this best. For who is there that is not already\nfull of the arguments brought against those paradoxes?\n\nDIADUMENUS. First, then, consider this, whether, according to the\ncommon conceptions, they can be said to agree with Nature, who think all\nnatural things indifferent, and esteem neither health, strength of body,\nbeauty, nor strength as desirable, commodious, profitable, or any way\ncontributory to the completing of natural perfection; nor consider that\ntheir contraries, as maims, pains, disgraces, and diseases, are hurtful\nor to be shunned? To the latter of these they themselves say that Nature\ngives us an abhorrence, and an inclination to the former. Which very\nthing is not a little repugnant to common understanding, that Nature\nshould incline us to such things as are neither good nor available, and\navert us from such as are neither ill nor hurtful, and which is more,\nthat she should render this inclination and this aversion so violent,\nthat they who either possess not the one or fall into the other detest\ntheir life with good reason, and withdraw themselves out of it.\n\nI think also that this is said by them against common sense, that Nature\nherself is indifferent, and yet that it is good to agree with Nature.\nFor it is not our duty either to follow the law or be persuaded by\nargument, unless the law and argument be good and honest. And this\nindeed is the least of their errors. But if, as Chrysippus has written\nin his First Book concerning Exhortation, a happy life consists only in\nliving according to virtue, other things (as he says) being nothing to\nus, nor cooperating any ways towards it, Nature is not only indifferent,\nbut foolish also and stupid, in inclining us to such things as belong\nnothing to us; and we also are fools in thinking felicity to be an\nagreeing with Nature, which draws us after such things as contribute\nnothing to happiness. For what can be more agreeable to common sense,\nthan that, as desirable things are requisite to live commodiously, so\nnatural things are necessary that we may live according to Nature? Now\nthese men say not so; but having settled the living according to Nature\nfor their end, do nevertheless hold those things which are according to\nNature to be indifferent.\n\nNor is this less repugnant to common sense, that an intelligent and\nprudent man should not be equally affected to equal good things, but\nshould put no value on some, and be ready to undergo and suffer anything\nfor others, though the things themselves are neither greater nor less\none than another. For they say, It is the same thing to abstain from the\nenjoyment of an old woman that is about to die as to take part in the\ngreatest actions with moderation... since in both cases we do what duty\nrequires. And yet for this, as a great and glorious thing, they should\nbe ready to die; when as to boast of the other would be shameful and\nridiculous. And even Chrysippus himself in his commentary concerning\nJupiter, and in the Third Book of the Gods, says, that it were a poor,\nabsurd, and impertinent thing to glory in such acts, as proceeding\nfrom virtue, as bearing valiantly the stinging of a wasp, or abstaining\nchastely from an old woman that lies a dying. Do not they then\nphilosophize against the common conception, who profess nothing to be\nmore commendable than those things which yet themselves are ashamed to\npraise? For how can that be desirable or to be approved, which is worthy\nneither of praise nor admiration, but the praisers and admirers of which\nthey esteem absurd and ridiculous?\n\nAnd yet this will (I suppose) appear to you more against common sense,\nthat a wise man should take no care whether he enjoys or not enjoys the\ngreatest good things, but should carry himself after the same manner in\nthese things, as in those that are indifferent both in their management\nand administration. For all of us, \"whoever we are that eat the fruit\nof the broad earth,\" judge that desirable, good, and profitable, which\nbeing present we use, and absent we want and desire. But that which\nno man thinks worth his concern, either for his profit or delight, is\nindifferent. For we by no other means distinguish a laborious man from a\ntrifler, who is for the most part also employed in action, but that the\none busies himself in useless matters and indifferently, and the other\nin things commodious and profitable. But these men act quite contrary;\nfor with them, a wise and prudent man, being conversant in many\ncomprehensions and memories of comprehension, esteems few of them to\nbelong to him; and not caring for the rest, he thinks he has neither\nmore or less by remembering that he lately had the comprehension of Dion\nsneezing or Theon playing at ball. And yet every comprehension in a wise\nman, and every memory having assurance and firmness, is a great, yea, a\nvery great good. When therefore his health fails, when some organ of\nhis senses is disordered, or when his wealth is lost, is a wise man so\ncareless as to think that none of these things concern him? Or does he,\n\"when sick, give fees to the physicians: for the gaining of riches sail\nto Leucon, governor in the Bosphorus, or travel to Idanthyrsus, king of\nthe Scythians,\" as Chrysippus says? And being deprived of some of his\nsenses, does he not become weary even of life? How then do they not\nacknowledge that they philosophize against the common notions, employing\nso much care and diligence on things indifferent, and not minding\nwhether they have or have not great good things?\n\nBut this is also yet against the common conceptions, that he who is\na man should not rejoice when coming from the greatest evils to the\ngreatest goods. Now their wise men suffer this. Being changed from\nextreme viciousness to the highest virtue, and at the same time escaping\na most miserable life and attaining to a most happy one, he shows no\nsign of joy, nor does this so great change lift him up or yet move him,\nbeing delivered from all infelicity and vice, and coming to a certain\nsure and firm perfection of virtue. This also is repugnant to common\nsense, to hold that the being immutable in one's judgments and\nresolutions is the greatest of goods, and yet that he who has attained\nto the height wants not this, nor cares for it when he has it, nay, many\ntimes will not so much as stretch forth a finger for this security\nand constancy, which nevertheless themselves esteem the sovereign and\nperfect good. Nor do the Stoics say only these things, but they add\nalso this to them,--that the continuance of time increases not any good\nthing; but if a man shall be wise but a minute of an hour, he will not\nbe any way inferior in happiness to him who has all his time practised\nvirtue and led his life happily in it. Yet, whilst they thus boldly\naffirm these things, they on the contrary also say, that a short-lived\nvirtue is nothing worth; \"For what advantage would the attainment of\nwisdom be to him who is immediately to be swallowed up by the waves or\ntumbled down headlong from a precipice? What would it have benefited\nLichas, if being thrown by Hercules, as from a sling into the sea, he\nhad been on a sudden changed from vice to virtue?\" These therefore\nare the positions of men who not only philosophize against the common\nconceptions but also confound their own, if the having been but a little\nwhile endued with virtue is no way short of the highest felicity, and\nat the same time nothing worth. Nor is this the strangest thing you\nwill find in their doctrine; but their being of opinion that virtue and\nhappiness, when present, are frequently not perceived by him who enjoys\nthem, nor does he discern that, having but a little before been most\nmiserable and foolish, he is of a sudden become wise and happy. For\nit is not only childish to say that he who is possessed of wisdom is\nignorant of this thing alone, that he is wise, and knows not that he is\ndelivered from folly; but, to speak in general, they make goodness to\nhave very little weight or strength, if it does not give so much as a\nfeeling of it when it is present. For according even to them, it is not\nby nature imperceptible; nay, even Chrysippus in his books of the End\nexpressly says that good is sensible, and demonstrates it also, as he\nmaintains. It remains, then, that by its weakness and littleness it\nflies the sense, when being present it is unknown and concealed from\nthe possessors. It were moreover absurd to imagine that the sight,\nperceiving those things which are but a little whitish or inclining to\nwhite, should not discern such as are white in perfection; or that the\ntouch, feeling those things which are but warm or moderately hot, should\nbe insensible of those that are hot in the highest degree. And yet more\nabsurd it is, that a man who perceives what is commonly according to\nNature--as are health and good constitution of body--should yet be\nignorant of virtue when it is present, which themselves hold to be most\nof all and in the highest degree according to Nature. For how can it\nbut be against sense, to conceive the difference between health and\nsickness, and yet so little to comprehend that between wisdom and folly\nas to think the one to be present when it is gone, and possessing the\nother to be ignorant that one has it? Now because there is from the\nhighest progress a change made to felicity and virtue, one of these two\nthings must of necessity follow; either that this progress is not\nvice and infelicity, or that virtue is not far distant from vice, nor\nhappiness from misery, but that the difference between good and evil is\nvery small and not to be perceived by sense; for otherwise they who have\nthe one for the other could not be ignorant of it.\n\nSince, then, they will not depart from any of these contrarieties, but\nconfess and hold them all,--that those who are proceeding towards virtue\nare fools and vicious, that those who are become good and wise perceive\nnot this change in themselves, and that there is a great difference\nbetween folly and wisdom,--they must assuredly seem to you wonderfully\nto preserve an agreement in their doctrines, and yet more so in their\nconduct, when affirming all men who are not wise to be equally wicked,\nunjust, faithless, and fools, they on the other side abhor and detest\nsome of them,--nay, sometimes to such a degree that they refuse even to\nspeak to them when they meet them,--while others of them they trust\nwith their money, choose to offices, and take for husbands to their\ndaughters. Now if they say these things in jest, let them smooth their\nbrows; but if in earnest and as philosophers, it is against the common\nnotions to reprove and blame all men alike in words, and yet to deal\nwith some of them as moderate persons and with others as very wicked;\nand exceedingly to admire Chrysippus, to deride Alexinus, and yet to\nthink neither of them more or less mad than the other. \"'Tis so,\" say\nthey; \"but as he who is not above a cubit under the superficies of the\nsea is no less drowned than he who is five hundred fathom deep, so they\nthat are coming towards virtue are no less in vice their those that are\nfarther off. And as blind men are still blind, though they shall perhaps\na little after recover their sight; so these that have proceeded towards\nvirtue, till such time as they have attained to it, continue foolish and\nwicked.\" But that they who are in the way towards virtue resemble not\nthe blind, but such as see less clearly, nor are like to those who\nare drowned, but--those which swim, and that near the harbor--they\nthemselves testify by their actions. For they would not use counsellors\nand generals and lawgivers as blind leaders, nor would they imitate\nthe works and actions and words and lives of some, if they saw them all\nequally drowned in folly and wickedness. But leaving this, wonder at the\nmen in this behalf, that they are not taught by their own examples\nto give up the doctrine that these men are wise being ignorant of\nit themselves, and neither knowing nor being sensible that they are\nrecovered from being drowned and see the light, and that being gotten\nabove vice, they fetch breath again.\n\nThis also is against common sense, that it should be convenient for a\nman who has all good things, and wants nothing requisite to felicity and\nhappiness, to make away himself; and much more this, that for him who\nneither has nor ever shall have any good thing, but who is and ever\nshall be accompanied with all adversities, difficulties, and mishaps, it\nshould not be fitting to quit this life unless some of the indifferent\nthings befall him. These laws are enacted in the Stoa; and by these they\nincite many wise men to kill themselves, as if they would be thereby\nmore happy; and they prevent many foolish men, as if it were proper for\nthem to live on in misery. Although the wise man is fortunate, blessed,\nevery way happy, secure, and free from danger; but the vicious and\nfoolish man is \"full, as I may say, of evils, so that there is not room\nto put them in\"; and yet they think that continuing in life is fit for\nthe latter, and departing out of it for the former. And not without\ncause, says Chrysippus, for we are not to measure life by good things or\nevil, but by those that are according to Nature. In this manner do they\nmaintain custom, and philosophize according to the common conceptions.\nWhat do you say?--that he who enters upon a deliberation of life and\ndeath has no right to consider\n\n     What good or ill in his own house there is;\n\nor to weigh, as in a balance, what things have the greatest sign of\nserving to felicity or infelicity; but must argue whether he should live\nor die from those things which are neither profitable nor prejudicial,\nand follow such principles and sentences as command the choosing of a\nlife full of all things to be avoided, and the shunning of one which\nwants nothing of all those things that are desirable? For though it is\nan absurd thing, friend Lamprias, to shun a life in which there is\nno evil, it is yet more absurd, if any one should leave what is good\nbecause he is not possessed of what is indifferent, as these men do who\nleave present felicity and virtue for want of riches and health which\nthey have not.\n\n     Satumian Jove from Glaucus took his wits,\n\nwhen he went about to change his suit of golden armor for a brazen one,\nand to give what was worth a hundred oxen for that which was worth but\nnine. And yet the brazen armor was no less useful for fight than the\ngolden; whereas beauty and health of body, as the Stoics say, contribute\nnot the least advantage so far as happiness is concerned. And yet they\nseek health in exchange for wisdom. For they say, it would well enough\nhave become Heraclitus and Pherecydes to have parted with their virtue\nand wisdom, if the one of them could have thereby been freed from his\nlousy disease, and the other from his dropsy; and if Circe had used two\nsorts of magical drinks, one to make wise men fools, and the other to\nmake fools wise, Ulysses would rather have drunk that of folly, than\nhave changed his shape for the form of a beast, though having with it\nwisdom, and consequently also happiness. And, they say, wisdom itself\ndictates to them these things, exhorting them thus: Let me go, and value\nnot my being lost, if I must be carried about in the shape of an ass.\nBut this, some will say, is an ass-like wisdom which teacheth thus;\ngranting that to be wise and enjoy felicity is good, and to wear the\nshape of an ass is indifferent. They say, there is a nation of the\nEthiopians where a dog reigns, is called king, and has all regal honors\nand services done to him; but men execute the offices of magistrates and\ngovernors of cities. Do not the Stoics act in the very same manner? They\ngive the name and appearance of good to virtue, saying that it alone is\ndesirable, profitable, and available; but in the meantime they act\nthese things, they philosophize, they live and die, as at the command of\nthings indifferent. And yet none of the Ethiopians kill that dog; but he\nsits in state, and is revered by all. But these men destroy and corrupt\ntheir virtue, that they may obtain health and riches.\n\nBut the corollary which Chrysippus himself has given for a conclusion to\nhis doctrines seems to free us from the trouble of saying anything more\nabout it. For there being, says he, in Nature some things good,\nsome things bad, and some things between them both, which we call\nindifferent; there is no man but would rather have the good than the\nindifferent, and the indifferent than the bad. And of this we call\nthe gods to witness, begging of them by our prayers principally the\npossession of good things, and if that may not be, deliverance from\nevil; not desiring that which is neither good nor bad instead of good,\nbut willing to have it instead of evil. But this man, changing Nature\nand inverting its order, removes the middle out of its own place into\nthe last, and brings back the last into the middle,--not unlike to those\ntyrants who give the first place to the wicked,--and he gives us a law,\nfirst to seek the good, and secondly the evil, and lastly to judge\nthat worst which is neither good nor evil; as if any one should place\ninfernal things next to celestial, thrusting the earth and earthly\nthings into Tartarus,\n\n     Where very far from hence, deep under ground,\n     Lies a vast gulf.\n     (Iliad, viii. 14.)\n\nHaving therefore said in his Third Book concerning Nature, that it\nis more expedient for a fool to live than not, though he should never\nattain to wisdom, he adds these words: \"For such are the good things of\nmen, that even evil things do in a manner precede other things that are\nin the middle place; not that these things themselves really precede,\nbut reason, which makes us choose rather to live, though we were to be\nfools.\" Therefore also, though we were to be unjust, wicked, hated of\nthe gods, and unhappy; for none of these things are absent from those\nthat live foolishly. Is it then convenient rather to live miserably than\nnot to live miserably, and better to be hurt than not hurt, to be unjust\nthan not unjust, to break the laws than not to break them? That is, is\nit convenient to do things that are not convenient, and a duty to live\neven against duty? Yes indeed, for it is worse to want sense and reason\nthan to be a fool. What then ails them, that they will not confess that\nto be evil which is worse than evil? Why do they say that folly alone is\nto be avoided, if it is not less but rather more convenient to shun that\ndisposition which is not capable of folly?\n\nBut who can complain of this, that shall remember what he has written in\nhis Second Book of Nature, declaring that vice was not unprofitably made\nfor the universe? But it is meet I should set down his doctrine in his\nown words, that you may understand in what place those rank vice, and\nwhat discourses they hold of it, who accuse Xenocrates and Speusippus\nfor not reckoning health indifferent and riches useless. \"Vice,\" saith\nhe, \"has its limit in reference to other accidents. For it is also in\nsome sort according to the reason of Nature, and (as I may so say) is\nnot wholly useless in respect of the universe; for other wise there\nwould not be any good.\" Is there then no good among the gods, because\nthere is no evil? And when Jupiter, having resolved all matter into\nhimself, shall be alone, other differences being taken away, will there\nthen be no good, because there will be no evil? But is there melody in a\nchoir though none in it sings faultily, and health in the body though no\nmember is sick; and yet cannot virtue have its existence without vice?\nBut as the poison of a serpent or the gall of an hyena is to be mixed\nwith some medicines, was it also of necessity that there must have\nbeen some conjunction of the wickedness of Meletus with the justice\nof Socrates, and the dissolute conduct of Cleon with the probity of\nPericles? And could not Jupiter have found a means to bring into the\nworld Hercules and Lycurgus, if he had not also made for us Sardanapalus\nand Phalaris? It is now time for them to say that the consumption was\nmade for the sound constitution of men's bodies, and the gout for the\nswiftness of their feet; and that Achilles would not have had a good\nhead of hair if Thersites had not been bald. For what difference\nis there between such triflers and ravers, and those who say that\nintemperance was not brought forth unprofitably for continence, nor\ninjustice for justice, so that we must pray to the gods, there may be\nalways wickedness,\n\n     Lies, fawning speeches, and deceitful manners,\n     (Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 78.)\n\nif, when these are taken away, virtue will also vanish and be lost?\n\nOr do you desire to understand the greatest sweetness of his eloquence\nand persuasion? \"For,\" says he, \"as comedies have in them sometimes\nridiculous epigrams, which, though bad in themselves, give nevertheless\na certain grace to the whole poem; so, though you may blame vice in\nitself, yet is it not useless to other things.\" First, then, to say that\nvice was made by the providence of God, as a wanton epigram by the will\nof the poet, transcends in absurdity all imagination. For this being\ngranted, how will the gods be rather givers of good than evil? How will\nwickedness be displeasing to them, and hated by them? And what shall we\nhave to oppose against these ill-sounding sentences of the poets.--\n\n     A cause to men God sends,\n     When to chastise some house his wrath intends;\n     (From the \"Niobe\" of Aeschylus, Frag. 151.)\n\nand again,\n\n     What God those seeds of strife 'twixt them did sow?\n     (Iliad, i. 8.)\n\nMoreover, a lewd epigram adorns the comedy and contributes to its end,\nwhich is to delight the spectators and make them laugh. But Jupiter,\nwho is surnamed fatherly, supreme, just, and (as Pindar has it) the most\nperfect artist, framing the world, not as a great interlude, full of\nvariety and great learning, but as a common city of Gods and men, living\ntogether in concord and happiness with justice and virtue,--what need\nhad he, for the attaining to this excellent end, of thieves, murderers,\nparricides, and tyrants? For vice entered not as a morris-dance,\npleasing and delightful to the Divinity; nor was it brought in amongst\nthe affairs of men, to cause mirth and laughter by its raillery and\nfacetiousness, since there is not to be seen in it so much as a dream of\nthat celebrated agreement with Nature. Besides, that foolish epigram is\na very small part of the poem, and takes up but a very little place in\nthe comedy; neither do such things abound in it, nor do they corrupt any\nof those things which seem to have been well done, or spoil their grace.\nBut all human affairs are replete with vice, and the whole life, from\nthe very prologue and beginning to the end, being disordered, depraved,\nand disturbed, and having no part of it pure or irreprehensible (as\nthese men say), is the most filthy and most unpleasant of all farces.\n\nWherefore I would willingly ask, in what vice is profitable to the\nuniverse. Not surely in respect of heavenly things, and such as are\ndivine by nature. For it would be ridiculous to say, that if there had\nnot arisen, or were not amongst men, malice and covetousness and lying,\nor that if we did not rob, plunder, slander, and murder one another, the\nsun would not run his appointed course, the world enjoy its seasons\nand periods of time, or the earth, which is seated in the midst of the\nuniverse, afford the principles of the wind and rain. It remains, then,\nthat the existence of vice must be profitable for us and our affairs;\nand that perhaps these men mean. Are we more healthy for being vicious,\nor do we more abound with necessaries? Or does vice contribute anything\nto our beauty and strength? They say, no. But where on earth is virtue\nto be met with? Is it then only a base name, and a visionary opinion\nof night-walking Sophists, and not an actual thing lying conspicuous to\nall, like vice, so that we cannot partake of anything as profitable,...\nbut least, O ye gods! of virtue, for which we were created? Is it\nnot then absurd, that the utensils of the husbandman, mariner, and\ncharioteer should be serviceable and aiding towards his intended end,\nwhilst that which was by God made for virtue destroys and corrupts\nvirtue? But perhaps it is time now to leave this point, and pass to\nanother.\n\nLAMPRIAS. Not for my sake, my dear friend, I beseech you; for I desire\nto understand, in what manner these men bring in evil things before the\ngood, and vice before virtue.\n\nDIADUMENUS. It is indeed, sir, a thing worth knowing. They babble indeed\nmuch; but in conclusion they say that prudence, being the knowledge of\ngood and evil, would be wholly taken away if there were no evil. For as,\nif there are truths, it is impossible but there must be some lies also\nnear to them; so it stands with reason, that if there are good things,\nthere must also be evil things.\n\nLAMPRIAS. One of these things is not said amiss; and I think also that\nthe other is not unapprehended by me. For I see a difference here:\nthat which is not true must immediately be false; but that is not of\nnecessity evil which is not good; because that between true and false\nthere is no medium, but between good and evil there is the indifferent.\nNor is it of necessity that the one must subsist with the other. For\nNature may have good without having any need of evil, but only having\nthat which is neither good nor evil. But if there is anything to be said\nby you to the former reason, let us hear it.\n\nDIADUMENUS. Many things indeed are said; but at present we shall make\nuse only of what is most necessary. In the first place, it is a folly\nto imagine that good and evil have their existence for the sake\nof prudence. For good and evil being already extant, prudence came\nafterwards; as the art of physic was invented, there being already\nthings wholesome and unwholesome. For good and evil are not therefore\nextant that there may be prudence; but the faculty by which we judge\ngood and evil that are already in being is named prudence. As sight is\na sense distinguishing white from black; which colors were not therefore\nmade that we might have sight, but we rather wanted sight to discern\nthese things. Secondly, when the world shall be set on fire (as the\nStoics hold), there will then no evil be left, but all will then be\nprudent and wise. There is therefore prudence, though there is no evil;\nnor is it of necessity for evil to exist that prudence may have a being.\nBut supposing that prudence must always be a knowledge of good and\nevil, what inconvenience would it be if, evil being taken away, prudence\nshould no longer subsist; but instead of this we should have another\nvirtue, not being the knowledge of good and evil, but of good only? So,\nif black should be wholly lost from among the colors, and any one should\ntherefore contend that sight is also lost, for that there is no more\nthe sense of discerning black and white, what should hinder us from\nanswering him: It is no prejudice to us, if we have not what you call\nsight, but in lieu of that have another sense and faculty, by which we\napprehend colors that are white and not white. For I indeed think that\nneither our taste would be lost, if bitter things were wanting, nor our\nfeeling, if pain were taken away, nor prudence, if evil had no being;\nbut that these senses would remain, to apprehend things sweet and\ngrateful and those that are not so, and prudence to be the science of\nthings good and not good. But let those who think otherwise take the\nname to themselves, leaving us the thing.\n\nBesides all this, what should hinder but there may be an understanding\nof evil, and an existence of good? As the gods, I believe, enjoy health,\nbut understand the fever and pleurisy. Since even we, who, as they\nsay, have abundance of evils but no good, are not yet destitute of the\nknowledge what prudence, what goodness, and what happiness is. And this\nalso would be remarkable, that if virtue were absent, there should be\nthose who could teach us what it is and give us a comprehension of\nit, when if vice were not extant, it should be impossible to have any\nunderstanding of it. For see what these men persuade us who philosophize\nagainst the conceptions,--that by folly indeed we comprehend prudence,\nbut prudence without folly cannot so much as comprehend folly itself.\n\nAnd if Nature had absolutely stood in need of the generation of evil,\nyet might one or two examples of vice have been sufficient; or if you\nwill, it might have been requisite that ten, a thousand, or ten thousand\nvicious men should be brought forth, and not that the multitude of vices\nshould be so great as \"to exceed in number the sands of the sea, the\ndust of the earth, and the feathers of all the various kinds of birds in\nthe world,\" and yet that there should not be so much all this while as a\ndream of virtue. Those who in Sparta had the charge of the public halls\nor eating places called Phiditia were wont to bring forth two or\nthree Helots drunken and full of wine, that the young men, seeing what\ndrunkenness was, might learn to keep sobriety. But in human life there\nare many such examples of vice. For there is not any one sober to\nvirtue; but we all stagger up and down, acting shamefully and living\nmiserably. Thus does reason inebriate us, and with so much trouble and\nmadness does it fill us, that we fall in nothing short of those dogs of\nwhom Aesop says, that seeing certain skins swimming in the water, they\nendeavored to gulp down the sea, but burst before they could get at\nthem. For reason also, by which we hope to gain reputation and attain\nto virtue, does, ere we can reach to it, corrupt and destroy us, being\nbefore filled with abundance of heady and bitter vice;--if indeed, as\nthese men say, they who are got even to the uppermost step have no ease,\ncessation, or breathing from folly and infelicity.\n\nBut let us see what manner of thing he shows vice to be who says that it\nwas not brought forth unprofitably, and of what use and what a thing\nhe makes it to be to those who have it, writing in his book of right\nconduct, that a wicked man wants nothing, has need of nothing, nothing\nis useful to him, nothing proper, nothing fit for him. How then is\nvice useful, with which neither health nor abundance of riches nor\nadvancement in virtue is profitable? Who then does not want these\nthings, of which some are \"preferable\" and \"acceptable\" and therefore\nhighly useful, and others are \"according to Nature,\" as themselves term\nthem? But (they affirm) no one has need of them, unless he become wise.\nSo the vicious man does not even stand in want of being made wise.\nNor are men hungry and thirsty before they become wise. When thirsty,\ntherefore, they have no need of water, nor when hungry, of bread.\n\n     Be like to courteous guests, and him\n     Who asks only fire and shelter:\n\ndoes this man now not need entertainment? Nor had he need of a cloak,\nwho said,\n\n     Give Hipponax a cloak, for I'm stiff with cold.\n\nBut will you speak a paradox indeed, both extravagant and singular? Say\nthen that a wise man has need of nothing, that he wants nothing, he\nis fortunate, he is free from want, he is self-sufficient, blessed,\nperfect. Now what madness is this, that he to whom nothing is wanting\nhas need of the goods he has, but that the vicious indeed wants many\nthings, and stands in need of nothing. For thus indeed says Chrysippus,\nthat the vicious wants but stands not in need; removing the common\nnotions, like chessmen, backwards and forwards. For all men think that\nhaving need precedes wanting, esteeming him who stands in need of things\nthat are not at hand or easy to be got, to want them. For no man wants\nhorns or wings, because no one has need of them. But we say that those\nwant arms and money and clothes who are destitute of them, when they\nhave occasion for them. But these men are so desirous of seeming always\nto say something against the common notions, that for the love of\nnovelty they often depart from their own opinions, as they do here.\n\nRecall yourself to the consideration of what has been said a little\nabove. This is one of their assertions against the common conception,\nthat no vicious man receives any utility. And yet many being instructed\nprofit, many being slaves are made free; many being besieged are\ndelivered, being lame are led by the hand, and being sick are cured.\n\"But possessing all these things, they are never the better, neither\ndo receive benefits, nor have they any benefactors, nor do they slight\nthem.\" Vicious men then are not ungrateful, no more than are wise men.\nIngratitude therefore has no being; because the good receiving a benefit\nfail not to acknowledge it, and the bad are not capable of receiving\nany. Behold, now, what they say to this,--that benefit is ranked among\nmean or middle things, and that to give and receive utility belongs only\nto the wise, but the bad also receive a benefit. Then they who partake\nof the benefit partake not also of its use; and whither a benefit\nextends, there is nothing useful or commodious. Now what else is there\nthat makes a kind office a benefit, but that the bestower of it is, in\nsome respect, useful to the needy receiver?\n\nLAMPRIAS. But let these things pass. What, I beseech you, is this so\nhighly venerated utility, which preserving as some great and excellent\nthing for the wise, they permit not so much as the name of it to the\nvicious?\n\nDIADUMENUS. If (say they) one wise man does but any way prudently\nstretch out his finger, all the wise men all the world over receive\nutility by it. This is the work of their amity; in this do the virtues\nof the wise man terminate by their common utilities. Aristotle then and\nXenocrates doted, saving that men receive utility from the gods, from\ntheir parents, from their masters, being ignorant of that wonderful\nutility which wise men receive from one another, being moved according\nto virtue, though they neither are together nor yet know it. Yet all\nmen esteem, that laying up, keeping, and bestowing are then useful and\nprofitable, when some benefit or profit is recovered by it. The thriving\nman buys keys, and diligently keeps his stores,\n\n     With 's hand unlocking wealth's sweet treasury.\n     (From the \"Bellerophontes\" of Euripides, Frag. 287, vs. 8.)\n\nBut to store up and to keep with diligence and labor such things as are\nfor no use is not seemly or honorable, but ridiculous. If Ulysses indeed\nhad tied up with the knot which Circe taught him, not the gifts he\nhad received from Alcinous,--tripods, caldrons, cloths, and gold,--but\nheaping up trash, stones, and such like trumpery, should have thought\nhis employment about such things, and the possession and keeping of\nthem, a happy and blessed work, would any one have imitated this\nfoolish providence and empty care? Yet this is the beauty, gravity, and\nhappiness of the Stoical consent, being nothing else but a gathering\ntogether and keeping of useless and indifferent things. For such are\nthings according to Nature, and more exterior things; if indeed they\ncompare the greatest riches to fringes and golden chamberpots, and\nsometimes also, as it happens, to oil-cruets. Then, as those who seem\nproudly to have affronted and railed at some gods or demigods presently\nchanging their note, fall prostrate and sit humbly on the ground,\npraising and magnifying the Divinity; so these men, having met with\npunishment of this arrogancy and vanity, again exercise themselves in\nthese indifferent things and such as pertain nothing to them, crying\nout with a loud voice that there is only one thing good, specious, and\nhonorable, the storing up of these things and the communication of them,\nand that it is not meet for those to live who have them not, but to\ndespatch out of the way and famish themselves, bidding a long farewell\nto virtue.\n\nThey esteem indeed Theognis to have been a man altogether of a base\nand abject spirit, for saying, as one overfearful in regard to poverty,\nwhich is an indifferent thing:--\n\n     From poverty to fly, into the deep\n     Throw thyself, Cyrnus, or from rocks so steep.\n\nYet they themselves exhort the same thing in prose, and affirm that a\nman, to free himself from some great disease or exceedingly acute pain,\nif he have not at hand sword or hemlock, ought to leap into the sea or\nthrow himself headlong from a precipice; neither of which is hurtful, or\nevil, or incommodious, or makes them who fall into it miserable.\n\nWith what, then, says he, shall I begin? And what shall I take for the\nprinciple of duty and matter of virtue, leaving Nature and that which is\naccording to Nature?\n\nWith what, O good sir, do Aristotle and Theophrastus begin? What\nbeginnings do Xenocrates and Polemo take? Does not also Zeno follow\nthese, who hold Nature and that which is according to Nature to be the\nelements of happiness? But they indeed persisted in these things, as\ndesirable, good, and profitable; and joining to them virtue, which\nemploys them and uses every one of them according to its property,\nthought to complete and consummate a perfect life and one every way\nabsolute, producing that concord which is truly suitable and consonant\nto Nature. For these men did not run into confusion, like those who leap\nup from the ground and presently fall down again upon it, terming\nthe same things acceptable and not desirable, proper and not good,\nunprofitable and yet useful, nothing to us and yet the principles of\nduties. But their life was such as their speech, and they exhibited\nactions suitable and consonant to their sayings. But they who are of\nthe Stoic sect--not unlike to that woman in Archilochus, who deceitfully\ncarried in one hand water, in the other fire--by some doctrines draw\nNature to them, and by others drive her from them. Or rather, by their\ndeeds and actions they embrace those things which are according to\nNature, as good and desirable, but in words and speeches they reject and\ncontemn them, as indifferent and of no use to virtue for the acquiring\nfelicity.\n\nNow, forasmuch as all men esteem the sovereign good to be joyous,\ndesirable, happy, of the greatest dignity, self-sufficient, and wanting\nnothing; compare their good, and see how it agrees with this common\nconception. Does the stretching out a finger prudently produce this joy?\nIs a prudent torture a thing desirable? Is he happy, who with reason\nbreaks his neck? Is that of the greatest dignity, which reason often\nchooses to let go for that which is not good? Is that perfect and\nself-sufficient, by enjoying which, if they possess not too indifferent\nthings, they neither can nor will endure to live? There is also another\ntenet of the Stoics, by which custom is still more injured, taking and\nplucking from her genuine notions, which are as her legitimate children,\nand supposing other bastardly, wild, and illegitimate ones in their\nroom, and necessitating her to nourish and cherish the one instead of\nthe other; and that too in those principles which concern things good\nand bad, desirable and avoidable, proper and strange, the energy of\nwhich ought to be more clearly distinguished than that of hot and cold,\nblack and white. For the imaginations of these things are brought in\nby the senses from without; but those have their original bred from the\ngood things which we have within us. But these men entering with their\nlogic upon the topic of felicity, as on the sophism called Pseudomenos,\nor that named Kyrieuon, have removed no ambiguities, but brought in very\nmany.\n\nIndeed, of two good things, of which the one is the end and the other\nbelongs to the end, none is ignorant that the end is the greater and\nperfecter good. Chrysippus also acknowledges this difference, as is\nmanifest from his Third Book of Good Things. For he dissents from\nthose who make science the end, and sets it down.... In his Treatise of\nJustice, however, he does not think that justice can be preserved, if\nany one makes pleasure to be the end; but allows it may, if pleasure is\nnot said to be the end, but simply a good. Nor do I think that you need\nnow to hear me repeat his words, since his Third Book of Justice is\neverywhere to be had. When, therefore, O my friend, they elsewhere say\nthat no one good is greater or less than another, and that what is\nnot the end is equal to the end, they contradict not only the common\nconceptions, but even their own words. Again, if of two evils, the one\nwhen it is present renders us worse, and the other hurts us but renders\nus not worse, it is against reason not to say that the evil which by\nits presence renders us worse is greater than that which hurts us but\nrenders us not worse. Now Chrysippus indeed confesses, that there are\nsome fears and sorrows and errors which hurt us, but render us not\nworse. Read his First Book of Justice against Plato; for in respect of\nother things, it is worth the while to note the babbling of the man in\nthat place, expounding indifferently all matters and doctrines, as well\nproper to his own sect as foreign to it.\n\nIt is likewise against common sense when he says that there may be two\nends or scopes proposed of life, and that all the things we do are not\nto be referred to one; and yet this is more against common sense, to\nsay that there is an end, and yet that every action is to be referred to\nanother. Nevertheless they must of necessity endure one of these. For\nif those things which are first according to Nature are not eligible for\nthemselves, but the choice and taking of them agreeably to reason is,\nand if every one therefore does all his actions for the acquiring the\nfirst things according to Nature, then all things which are done must\nhave their reference to this, that the principal things according to\nNature may be obtained. But they think that they who aim and aspire to\nget these things do not have the things themselves as the end, but\nthat to which they must make reference, namely, the choice and not\nthe things. For the end indeed is to choose and receive these things\nprudently. But the things themselves and the enjoying of them are not\nthe end, but the material ground, having its value only from the choice.\nFor it is my opinion that they both use and write this very expression,\nto show the difference.\n\nLAMPRIAS. You have exactly related both what they say and in what manner\nthey deliver it.\n\nDIADUMENUS. But observe how it fares with them, as with those that\nendeavor to leap over their own shadow; for they do not leave behind,\nbut always carry along with them in their speech some absurdity most\nremote from common sense. For as, if any one should say that he who\nshoots does all he can, not that he may hit the mark, but that he may do\nall he can, such a one would rightly be esteemed to speak enigmatically\nand prodigiously; so these doting dreamers, who contend that the\nobtaining of natural things is not the end of aiming after natural\nthings, but the taking and choosing them is, and that the desire and\nendeavor after health is not in every one terminated in the enjoyment of\nhealth, but on the contrary, the enjoyment of health is referred to the\ndesire and endeavor after it, and that certain walkings and contentions\nof speech and suffering incisions and taking of medicines, so they are\ndone by reason, are the end of health, and not health of them, they,\nI say, trifle like to those who say, Let us sup, that we may offer\nsacrifice, that we may bathe. But this rather changes order and custom,\nand all things which these men say carry with them the total subversion\nand confusion of affairs. Thus, we do not desire to take a walk in fit\ntime that we may digest our meat; but we digest our meat that we may\ntake a walk in fit time. Has Nature also made health for the sake of\nhellebore, instead of producing hellebore for the sake of health?\nFor what is wanting to bring them to the highest degree of speaking\nparadoxes, but the saying of such things? What difference is there\nbetween him who says that health was made for the sake of medicines and\nnot medicines for the sake of health, and him who makes the choice\nof medicines and their composition and use more desirable than health\nitself?--or rather who esteems health not at all desirable, but placing\nthe end in the negotiation about these things, prefers desire to\nenjoyment, and not enjoyment to desire? For to desire, forsooth (they\naffirm), is joined the proceeding wisely and discreetly. It is true\nindeed, we will say, if respect be had to the end, that is, the\nenjoyment and possession of the things it pursues; but otherwise, it is\nwholly void of reason, if it does all things for the obtaining of that\nthe enjoyment of which is neither honorable nor happy.\n\nNow, since we are fallen upon this discourse, anything may rather\nbe said to agree with common sense, than that those who have neither\nreceived nor have any conception of good do nevertheless desire\nand pursue it. For you see how Chrysippus drives Ariston into this\ndifficulty, that he should understand an indifference in things\ninclining neither to good nor to bad, before either good or bad is\nitself understood; for so indifference will appear to have subsisted\neven before itself, if the understanding of it cannot be perceived\nunless good be first understood, while the good is nothing else than\nthis very indifference. Understand now and consider this indifference\nwhich the Stoa refutes and calls consent, whence and in what manner it\ngives us the knowledge of good. For if without good the indifference to\nthat which is not good cannot be understood, much less does the knowing\nof good things give any intelligence of itself to those who had not\nbefore some notion of the good. But as there can be no knowledge of the\nart of things wholesome and unwholesome in those who have not first some\nknowledge of the things themselves; so they cannot conceive any notion\nof the science of good and evil who have not some fore-knowledge of good\nand evil.\n\nLAMPRIAS. What then is good? DIADUMENUS. Nothing but prudence. LAMPRIAS.\nAnd what is prudence? DIADUMENUS. Nothing but the science of good.\n\nLAMPRIAS. There is much then of \"Jupiter's Corinth\" (that is, much\nbegging the question) admitted into their reasoning. For I would have\nyou let alone the saying about the turning of the pestle, lest you\nshould seem to mock them; although an accident like to that has\ninsinuated itself into their discourse. For it seems that, to the\nunderstanding of good, one has need to understand prudence, and to seek\nfor prudence in the understanding of good, being forced always to\npursue the one by the other, and thus failing of both; since to the\nunderstanding of each we have need of that which cannot be known without\nthe other be first understood.\n\nDIADUMENUS. But there is yet another way, by which you may perceive\nnot only the perversion but the eversion of their discourse, and the\nreduction of it entirely to nothing. They hold the essence of good to be\nthe reasonable election of things according to Nature. Now the election\nis not reasonable which is not directed to some end, as has been said\nbefore. What, then, is this end? Nothing else, say they, but to reason\nrightly in the election of things according to Nature. First, then, the\nconception of good is lost and gone. For to reason rightly in election\nis an operation proceeding from an habit of right reasoning, and\ntherefore being constrained to get this from the end; and the end not\nwithout this, we fail of understanding either of them. Besides, which is\nmore, this reasonable election ought strictly to be a choice of\nthings good and useful, and cooperating to the end; for how can it be\nreasonable to choose things which are neither convenient nor honorable\nnor at all eligible? For be it, as they say, a reasonable election of\nthings having a fitness for the causing felicity; see then to what a\nbeautiful and solemn conclusion their discourse brings them. For the\nend is (it seems), according to them, to reason rightly in the choice of\nthings which are useful in causing us to reason rightly.\n\nLAMPRIAS. When I hear these words, my friend, what is laid down seems to\nme strangely extravagant; and I farther want to know how this happens.\n\nDIADUMENUS. You must then be more attentive; for it is not for every one\nto understand this riddle. Hear therefore and answer. Is not the end,\naccording to them, to reason rightly in the election of things according\nto Nature?\n\nLAMPRIAS. So they say.\n\nDIADUMENUS. And are these things according to Nature chosen as good,\nor as having some fitness or preferences... either for this end or for\nsomething else?\n\nLAMPRIAS. I think not for anything else but for this end.\n\nDIADUMENUS. Now, then, having discovered the matter, see what befalls\nthem. They affirm that the end is to reason rightly in the selection of\nthings which are of value in causing us to reason rightly, for they say\nthat we neither have nor understand any other principle either of good\nor of felicity but this precious rectitude of reasoning in the election\nof things that are of worth. But there are some who think that this is\nspoken against Antipater, and not against the whole sect; for that he,\nbeing pressed by Carneades, fell into these fooleries.\n\nBut as for those things that are against the common conceptions taught\nin the Stoa concerning love, they are all of them concerned in the\nabsurdity. They say youths are deformed who are vicious and foolish,\nand that the wise are fair; and yet that none of these beautiful ones\nis either beloved or worthy of being beloved. Nor yet is this the worst;\nbut they add, that those who love the deformed ones cease to do so when\nthey are become fair. Now whoever knew such a love as is kindled and has\nits being at the sight of the body's deformity joined with that of the\nsoul, and is quenched and decays at the accession of beauty joined with\nprudence, justice, and temperance? These men are not unlike to those\ngnats which love to settle on the dregs of wine, or on vinegar, but shun\nand fly away from potable and pleasant wine. As for that which they call\nand term an appearance of beauty, saying that it is the inducement of\nlove,--first, it has no probability, for in those who are very foul and\nhighly wicked there cannot be an appearance of beauty, if indeed (as is\nsaid) the wickedness of the disposition fills the face with deformity.\nAnd secondly, it is absolutely against all common experience for the\ndeformed to be worthy of love because he one day will be fair and\nexpects to have beauty, but that when he has got it and is become fair\nand good, he is to be beloved of none.\n\nLAMPRIAS. Love, they say, is a certain hunting after a young person\nwho is as yet indeed undeveloped, but naturally well disposed towards\nvirtue.\n\nDIADUMENUS. And what do we now else, O my best friend, but demonstrate\nthat their sect perverts and destroys all our common conceptions with\nimprobable things and unusual expressions? For none would hinder the\nsolicitude of these wise men towards young persons, if it were free\nfrom all passionate affection, from being named hunting or love\nof instruction; but they ought to call love what all men and women\nunderstand and call by this name, like that which Penelope's suitors in\nHomer seem to acknowledge,\n\n     Who all desired to lie with her;\n     (\"Odyssey,\" i. 366)\n\nor as Jupiter in another place says to Juno,\n\n     For neither goddess yet nor mortal dame\n     E'er kindled in my heart so great a flame.\n     (\"Iliad.\" xiv. 315.)\n\nThus casting moral philosophy into these matters, in which all is\n\n     A mazy whirl, with nothing sound, and all perplexed,\n     (Euripides, \"Andromache,\" 448.)\n\nthey contemn and deride it, as if boasting themselves to be the only\nmen who observe nature and custom as it ought to be, and who at the\nsame time adapted reason to each man by means of aversions, desires,\nappetites, pursuits, and impulses. But custom has received no good from\ntheir logic, but, like the ear diseased by vain sounds, is filled\nwith difficulty and obscurity,--of which, if you think good, we will\nelsewhere begin a new discourse. But now we will run through the chief\nand principal heads of their natural philosophy, which no less confounds\nthe common conceptions than that other concerning ends. =============\nFirst, this is altogether absurd and against sense, to say that is which\nis not, and things which are not are. But above all that is most\nabsurd which they say of the universe. For, putting round about the\ncircumference of the world an infinite vacuum, they say that the\nuniverse is neither a body nor bodiless. It follows then from this that\nthe universe has no being, since with them body only has a being.\nSince therefore it is the part of that which has a being both to do and\nsuffer, and the universe has no being, it follows that the universe will\nneither do nor suffer. Neither will it be in a place; for that which\ntakes up place is a body, and the universe is not a body, therefore the\nuniverse exists nowhere. And since that only rests which continues in\none and the same place, the universe rests not, because it takes not up\nplace. Neither yet is it moved, for what is moved must have a place and\nspace in which to move. Moreover, what is moved either moves itself, or\nsuffers motion from another. Now, that which is moved by itself has\nsome bents and inclinations proceeding from its gravity or levity; and\ngravity and levity are either certain habits or faculties or differences\nof bodies. But the universe is not a body. It follows then of necessity,\nthat the universe is neither, heavy nor light, and consequently, that it\nhas not in itself any principle of motion. Nor yet will the universe be\nmoved by any other; for there is nothing else besides the universe. Thus\nare they necessitated to say as they do, that the universe neither rests\nnor is moved. Lastly since according to their opinion it must not\nbe said that the universe is a body, and yet the heaven, the earth,\nanimals, plants, men, and stones are bodies, it follows that that\nwhich is no body will have bodies for its parts, and things which have\nexistence will be parts of that which has no existence, and that which\nis not heavy will have parts that are heavy, and what is not light\nwill have parts that are light;--than which there cannot be any dreams\nimagined more repugnant to the common conceptions.\n\nMoreover, there is nothing so evident or so agreeing to common sense as\nthis, that what is not animate is inanimate, and what is not inanimate\nis animate. And yet they overthrow also this evidence, confessing the\nuniverse to be neither animate nor inanimate. Besides this, none thinks\nthe universe, of which there is no part wanting to be imperfect; but\nthey deny the universe to be perfect, saying that what is perfect may be\ndefined, but the universe because of its infiniteness cannot be defined.\nTherefore, according to them, there is something which is neither\nperfect nor imperfect. Moreover, the universe is neither a part, since\nthere is nothing greater than it; nor the whole, for the whole (they\nsay) is predicated only of that which is digested into order; but the\nuniverse is, through its infiniteness, undetermined and unordered.\nMoreover, there is no other thing which can be the cause of the\nuniverse, there being nothing besides the universe; nor is the universe\nthe cause of other things or even of itself; for its nature suffers it\nnot to act, and a cause is understood by its acting. Suppose, now, one\nshould ask all men what they imagine NOTHING to be, and what notion they\nhave of it. Would they not answer, that it neither is a cause nor has\na cause, that it is neither the whole nor a part that it is neither\nperfect nor imperfect, that it is neither animate nor inanimate, that\nit neither is moved nor rests nor subsists, that it is neither corporeal\nnor incorporeal; and that this and no other thing is meant by NOTHING?\nSince, then, they alone predicate that of the universe which all others\ndo of NOTHING, it seems plain that they make the universe and NOTHING to\nbe the same. Time must then be said to be nothing; the same also must\nbe said of predicate, axiom, junction, conjunction, which terms they use\nmore than any of the other philosophers, yet they say that they have\nno existence. But farther, to say that what is true has no being or\nsubsistence but is comprehended, and that that is comprehensible and\ncredible which no way partakes of the essence of being,--does not this\nexceed all absurdity?\n\nBut lest these things should seem to have too much of logical\ndifficulty, let us proceed to such as pertain more to natural\nphilosophy. Since, then, as themselves say,\n\n     Jove is of all beginning, midst, and end,\n     (See \"Orphic Fragments,\" vi. 10 (Herm.).)\n\nthey ought chiefly to have applied themselves to remedy, redress, and\nreduce to the best order the conceptions concerning the gods, if there\nwere in them anything confused or erroneous; or if not, to have left\nevery one in those sentiments which they had from the laws and custom\nconcerning the Divinity:--\n\n    For neither now nor yesterday But always these things lived,\n    No one knows from whence they came.\n     (Sophocles, \"Antigone,\" 456.)\n\nBut these men, having begun (as it were) \"from Vesta\" to disturb the\nopinions settled and received in every country concerning the gods, have\nnot (to speak sincerely) left anything entire and uncorrupted. For\nwhat man is there or ever was, except these, who does not believe the\nDivinity to be immortal and eternal? Or what in the common anticipations\nis more unanimously chanted forth concerning the gods than such things\nas these:--\n\n     There the blest gods eternally enjoy\n     Their sweet delights;\n     (\"Odyssey,\" vi. 46.)\n\nand again,\n\n     Both gods immortal, and earth-dwelling men;\n     (\"Iliad,\" v. 442.)\n\nand again,\n\n     Exempt from sickness and old age are they,\n     And free from toil, and have escaped the stream\n     Of roaring Acheron?\n     (From Pindar.)\n\nOne may perhaps light upon some nations so barbarous and savage as\nnot to think there is a God; but there was never found any man who,\nbelieving a God, did not at the same time believe him immortal and\neternal. Certainly, those who were called Atheists, like Theodorus,\nDiagoras, and Hippo, durst not say that the Divinity is corruptible, but\nthey did not believe that there is anything incorruptible; not indeed\nadmitting the subsistence of an incorruptibility, but keeping the notion\nof a God. But Chrysippus and Cleanthes, having filled (as one may say)\nheaven, earth, air, and sea with gods, have not yet made any one of\nall these gods immortal or eternal, except Jupiter alone, in whom they\nconsume all the rest; so that it is no more suitable for him to consume\nothers than to be consumed himself. For it is alike an infirmity\nto perish by being resolved into another, and to be saved by being\nnourished by the resolution of others into himself. Now these are\nnot like other of their absurdities, gathered by argument from their\nsuppositions or drawn by consequence from their doctrines; but they\nthemselves proclaim it aloud in their writings concerning the gods,\nProvidence, Fate, and Nature, expressly saying that all the other gods\nwere born, and shall die by the fire, melting away, in their opinion,\nas if they were of wax or tin. It is indeed as much against common sense\nthat God should be mortal as the man should be immortal; nay, indeed, I\ndo not see what the difference between God and man will be, if God also\nis a reasonable and corruptible animal. For if they oppose us with\nthis subtle distinction, that man is mortal, and God not mortal but\ncorruptible, see what they get by it. For they will say either that\nGod is at the same time both immortal and corruptible, or else that he\nneither is mortal nor immortal; the absurdity of which even those cannot\nexceed who set themselves industriously to devise positions repugnant to\ncommon sense. I speak of others; for these men have left no one of the\nabsurdest things unspoken or unattempted.\n\nTo these things Cleanthes, contending for the conflagration of the\nworld, says, that the sun will make the moon and all the other stars\nlike to himself, and will change them into himself. Indeed, if the\nstars, being gods, should contribute anything to the sun towards\ntheir own destruction by adding to its conflagration, it would be very\nridiculous for us to make prayers to them for our salvation, and to\nthink them the saviours of men, whose nature it is to accelerate their\nown corruption and dissolution.\n\nAnd yet these men leave nothing unsaid against Epicurus, crying out,\nFie, fie upon him, as confounding their presumption concerning God by\ntaking away Providence; for God (they say) is presumed and understood to\nbe not only immortal and happy, but also a lover of men and careful of\nthem and beneficial to them, and herein they say true. Now if they who\nabolish Providence take away the preconception concerning God, what do\nthey who say that the gods indeed have care of us, but deny them to\nbe helpful to us, and make them not bestowers of good things but of\nindifferent ones, giving, to wit, not virtue, but wealth, health,\nchildren, and such like things, none of which is helpful, profitable,\ndesirable, or available? Or shall we not rather think, that Epicurus\ndoes not take away the conceptions concerning the gods; but that these\nStoics scoff at the gods and deride them, saying one is a god of fruits,\nanother of marriage, another a physician, and another a diviner,\nwhile yet health, issue, and plenty of fruits are not good things, but\nindifferent things and unprofitable to those who have them?\n\nThe third point of the conception concerning the gods is, that the gods\ndo in nothing so much differ from men as in happiness and virtue. But\naccording to Chrysippus, they have not so much as this difference. For\nhe says that Jupiter does not exceed Dion in virtue, but that Jupiter\nand Dion, being both wise, are equally aided by one another, when one\ncomes into the motion of the other. For this and none else is the good\nwhich the gods do to men, and likewise men to the gods when they are\nwise. For they say, that a man who falls not short in virtue comes not\nbehind them in felicity, and that he who, tormented with diseases and\nbeing maimed in the body, makes himself away, is equally happy with\nJupiter the Saviour, provided he be but wise. But this man neither is\nnor ever was upon the earth; but there are infinite millions of men\nunhappy to the highest degree in the state and government of Jupiter,\nwhich is most excellently administered. Now what can be more against\nsense than that, when Jupiter governs exceedingly well, we should be\nexceedingly miserable? But if (which it is unlawful even to say)\nhe would desire no longer to be a saviour, nor a deliverer, nor a\nprotector, but the contrary to all these glorious appellations, there\ncan no goodness be added to the things that are, either as to their\nmultitude or magnitude, since, as these men say, all men live to the\nheight miserably and wickedly, neither vice receiving addition, nor\nunhappiness increase.\n\nNor is this the worst; but they are angry with Menander for saying upon\nthe stage,\n\n     The chief beginning of men's miseries\n     Are things exceeding good;\n\nfor that this is against sense. And yet they make God, who is good, the\nbeginning of evils. \"For matter,\" they contend, \"produced not any evil\nof itself; for it is without quality, and whatever differences it has,\nit has received them all from that which moves and forms it.\" But that\nwhich moves and forms it is the reason dwelling in it, since matter is\nnot made to move and form itself. So that of necessity evil, if it come\nby nothing, must have been produced from that which has no being; but if\nby some moving principle, from God. But if they think that Jupiter has\nnot the command of his parts nor uses every one of them according to his\nreason, they speak against common sense, and imagine an animal, many of\nwhose parts are not subservient to his will but use their own operations\nand actions, to which the whole gives no incitation nor begins their\nmotion. For there is nothing which has life so ill compacted as that,\nagainst its will, its feet shall go, its tongue speak, its horns push,\nor its teeth bite. The most of which things God must of necessity\nsuffer, if the wicked, being parts of him, do against his will lie,\ncheat, rob, and murder one another. But if, as Chrysippus says, the very\nleast part cannot possibly behave itself otherwise than according to\nJupiter's pleasure, and if every living thing is so framed by Nature as\nto rest and move according as he inclines it and as he turns, stays, and\ndisposes it,\n\n     This saying is more impious than the first.\n     (See Nauck's \"Tragic Fragments,\" p. 704 (No. 345).)\n\nFor it were more tolerable to say that many parts of Jupiter are,\nthrough his weakness and want of power, hurried on to do many absurd\nthings against his nature and will, than that there is not any\nintemperance or wickedness of which Jupiter is not the cause. Moreover,\nsince they affirm the world to be a city and the stars citizens, if this\nbe so, there must be also tribes-men and magistrates, the sun must be\nsome consul, and the evening star a praetor or mayor of a city. Now I\nknow not whether any one that shall go about to disprove such things\nwill not show himself more ridiculous than those who assert and affirm\nthem.\n\nIs it not therefore against sense to say that the seed is more and\ngreater than that which is produced of it? For we see that Nature in all\nanimals and plants, even those that are wild, has taken small, slender,\nand scarce visible things for principles of generation to the greatest.\nFor it does not only from a grain of wheat produce an ear-bearing stalk,\nor a vine from the stone of a grape; but from a small berry or acorn\nwhich has escaped being eaten by the bird, kindling and setting\ngeneration on fire (as it were) from a little spark, it sends forth the\nstock of a bush, or the tall body of an oak, palm, or pine tree. Whence\nalso they say that seed is in Greek called [Greek omitted], as it\nwere, the [Greek omitted] or the WINDING UP of a great mass in a little\ncompass; and that Nature has the name of [Greek omitted], as if it were\nthe INFLATION [Greek omitted] and diffusion of reason and numbers opened\nand loosened by it. But now, in opposition to this, they hold that fire\nis the seed of the world, which shall after the conflagration change\ninto seed the world, which will then have a copious nature from a\nsmaller body and bulk, and possess an infinite space of vacuum filled\nby its increase; and the world being made, the form again recedes and\nsettles, the matter being after the generation gathered and contracted\ninto itself.\n\nYou may hear them and read many of their writings, in which they jangle\nwith the Academics, and cry out against them as confounding all things\nwith their paradox of indistinguishable identity, and as vehemently\ncontending that there is but one quality in two substances. And yet\nthere is no man who understands not this, and would not on the contrary\nthink it wonderful and extremely strange if there should not in all time\nbe found one kind of dove exactly and in all respects like to another\ndove, a bee to a bee, a grain of wheat to a grain of wheat, or (as the\nproverb has it) one fig to another. But these things are plainly against\ncommon sense which the Stoics say and feign,--that there are in one\nsubstance two individual qualities, and that the same substance, which\nhas particularly one quality, when another quality is added, receives\nand equally conserves them both. For if there may be two, there may be\nalso three, four, and five, and even more than you can name, in one and\nthe same substance; I say not in its different parts, but all equally\nin the whole, though even infinite in number. For Chrysippus says, that\nJupiter and the world are like to man, as is also Providence to the\nsoul; when therefore the conflagration shall be, Jupiter, who alone of\nall the gods is incorruptible, will retire into Providence, and they\nbeing together, will both perpetually remain in the one substance of the\nether.\n\nBut leaving now the gods, and beseeching them to give these Stoics\ncommon sense and a common understanding, let us look into their\ndoctrines concerning the elements. It is against the common conceptions\nthat one body should be the place of another, or that a body should\npenetrate through a body, neither of them containing any vacuity, but\nthe full passing into the full, and in which there is no vacuity--but\nis full and has no place by reason of its continuity--receiving the\nmixture. But these men, not thrusting one thing into one, nor yet two\nor three or ten together, but jumbling all the parts of the world, being\ncut piecemeal, into any one thing which they shall first light on, and\nsaying that the very least which is perceived by sense will contain the\ngreatest that shall come unto it, boldly frame a new doctrine, proving\nthemselves here, as in many other things, to be holding for their\nsuppositions things repugnant to common sense. And presently upon this\nthey are forced to admit into their discourse many monstrous and strange\npositions, mixing whole bodies with whole; of which this also is one,\nthat three are four. For this others put as an example of those things\nwhich cannot be conceived even in thought. But to the Stoics it is a\nmatter of truth, that when one cup of wine is mixed with two of water,\nif it is not to disappear and if the mixture is to be equalized, it must\nbe spread through the whole and be confounded therewith, so as to make\nthat which was one two by the equalization of the mixture. For the one\nremains, but is extended as much as two, and thus is equal to the double\nof itself. Now if it happens in the mixture with two to take the measure\nof two in the diffusion, this is together the measure both of three\nand four,--of three because one is mixed with two, and of four because,\nbeing mixed with two, it has an equal quantity with those with which\nit is mixed. Now this fine subtilty is a consequence of their putting\nbodies into a body, and so likewise is the unintelligibleness of the\nmanner how one is contained in the other. For it is of necessity that,\nof bodies passing one into another by mixture, the one should not\ncontain and the other be contained, nor the one receive and the other be\nreceived within; for this would not be a mixture, but a contiguity\nand touching of the superficies, the one entering in, and the other\nenclosing it without, and the rest of the parts remaining unmixed and\npure, and so it would be merely many different things. But there being\na necessity, according to their axiom of mixture, that the things which\nare mixed should be mingled one within the other, and that the same\nthings should together be contained by being within, and by receiving\ncontain the other, and that neither of them could possibly exist again\nas it was before, it comes to pass that both the subjects of the mixture\nmutually penetrate each other, and that there is not any part of either\nremaining separate, but that they are necessarily all filled with each\nother.\n\nHere now that famed leg of Arcesilaus comes in, with much laughter\ninsulting over their absurdities; for if these mixtures are through the\nwhole, what should hinder but that, a leg being cut off and putrefied\nand cast into the sea and diffused, not only Antigonus's fleet (as\nArcesilaus said) might sail through it, but also Xerxes's twelve hundred\nships, together with the Grecians' three hundred galleys, might fight in\nit? For the progress will not henceforth fail, nor the lesser cease\nto be in the greater; or else the mixture will be at an end, and the\nextremity of it, touching where it shall end, will not pass through the\nwhole, but will give over being mingled. But if the mixture is through\nthe whole, the leg will not indeed of itself give the Greeks room for\nthe sea-fight, for to this there is need of putrefaction and change;\nbut if one glass or but one drop of wine shall fall from hence into the\nAegean or Cretan Sea, it will pass into the Ocean or main Atlantic Sea,\nnot lightly touching its superficies, but being spread quite through\nit in depth, breadth, and length. And this Chrysippus admits, saying\nimmediately in his First Book of Natural Questions, that there is\nnothing to hinder one drop of wine from being mixed with the whole sea.\nAnd that we may not wonder at this, he says that this one drop will by\nmixtion extend through the whole world; than which I know not anything\nthat can appear more absurd.\n\nAnd this also is against sense, that there is not in the nature of\nbodies anything either supreme or first or last, in which the magnitude\nof the body may terminate; but that there is always some phenomenon\nbeyond the body, still going on which carries the subject to infinity\nand undeterminateness. For one body cannot be imagined greater or less\nthan another, if both of them may by their parts proceed IN INFINITUM;\nbut the nature of inequality is taken away. For of things that are\nesteemed unequal, the one falls short in its last parts, and the other\ngoes on and exceeds. Now if there is no inequality, it follows that\nthere is no unevenness nor roughness of bodies; for unevenness is the\ninequality of the same superficies with itself, and roughness is an\nunevenness joined with hardness; neither of which is left us by those\nwho terminate no body in its last part, but extend them all by the\nmultitude of their parts unto an infinity. And yet is it not evident\nthat a man consists of more parts than a finger, and the world of more\nthan a man? This indeed all men know and understand, unless they become\nStoics; but if they are once Stoics, they on the contrary say and think\nthat a man has no more parts than a finger, nor the world than a man.\nFor division reduces bodies to an infinity; and of infinites neither is\nmore or less or exceeds in multitude, or the parts of the remainder will\ncease to be divided and to afford a multitude of themselves.\n\nLAMPRIAS. How then do they extricate themselves out of these\ndifficulties?\n\nDIADUMENUS. Surely with very great cunning and courage. For Chrysippus\nsays: \"If we are asked, if we have any parts, and how many, and of what\nand how many parts they consist, we are to use a distinction, making\nit a position that the whole body is compacted of the head, trunk, and\nlegs, as if that were all which is inquired and doubted of. But if they\nextend their interrogation to the last parts, no such thing is to be\nundertaken, but we are to say that they consist not of any certain\nparts, nor yet of so many, nor of infinite, nor of finite.\" And I seem\nto myself to have used his very words, that you may perceive how he\nmaintains the common notions, forbidding us to think of what or how many\nparts every body is compacted, and whether of infinite or finite. For if\nthere were any medium between finite and infinite, as the indifferent\nis between good and evil, he should, by telling us what that is, have\nsolved the difficulty. But if--as that which is not equal is\npresently understood to be unequal, and that which is not mortal to be\nimmortal--we also understand that which is not finite to be immediately\ninfinite, to say that a body consists of parts neither finite nor\ninfinite is, in my opinion, the same thing as to affirm that an argument\nis compacted of positions neither true nor false....\n\nTo this he with a certain youthful rashness adds, that in a pyramid\nconsisting of triangles, the sides inclining to the juncture are\nunequal, and yet do not exceed one another in that they are greater.\nThus does he keep the common notions. For if there is anything greater\nand not exceeding, there will be also something less and not deficient,\nand so also something unequal which neither exceeds nor is deficient;\nthat is, there will be an unequal thing equal, a greater not greater,\nand a less not less. See it yet farther, in what manner he answered\nDemocritus, inquiring philosophically and to the point, if a cone is\ndivided by a plane parallel with its base, what is to be thought of the\nsuperficies of its segments, whether they are equal or unequal; for\nif they are unequal, they will render the cone uneven, receiving many\nsteplike incisions and roughnesses; but if they are equal, the sections\nwill be equal, and the cone will seem to have the same qualities as the\ncylinder, to wit, to be composed not of unequal but of equal circles;\nwhich is most absurd. Here, that he may convince Democritus of\nignorance, he says, that the superficies are neither equal or unequal,\nbut that the bodies are unequal, because the superficies are neither\nequal nor unequal. Indeed to assert this for a law, that bodies are\nunequal while the superficies are not unequal, is the part of a man who\ntakes to himself a wonderful liberty of writing whatever comes into\nhis head. For reason and manifest evidence, on the contrary, give us to\nunderstand, that the superficies of unequal bodies are unequal, and that\nthe bigger the body is, the greater also is the superficies, unless the\nexcess, by which it is the greater, is void of a superficies. For if the\nsuperficies of the greater bodies do not exceed those of the less, but\nsooner fail, a part of that body which has an end will be without an\nend and infinite. For if he says that he is compelled to this. For\nthose rabbeted incisions, which he suspects in a cone, are made by the\ninequality of the body, and not of the superficies. It is ridiculous\ntherefore not to reckon the superficies, and to leave the inequality in\nthe bodies themselves. But to persist still in this matter, what is more\nrepugnant to sense than the imagining of such things? For if we admit\nthat one superficies is neither equal nor unequal to another, we may say\nalso of magnitude and of number, that one is neither equal nor unequal\nto another; and this, not having anything that we can call or think to\nbe a neuter or medium between equal and unequal. Besides, if there are\nsuperficies neither equal nor unequal, what hinders but there may be\nalso circles neither equal nor unequal? For indeed these superficies\nof conic sections are circles. And if circles, why may not also their\ndiameters be neither equal nor unequal? And if so, why not also angles,\ntriangles, parallelograms, parallelopipeds, and bodies? For if the\nlongitudes are neither equal nor unequal to one another, so will the\nweight, percussion, and bodies be neither equal nor unequal. How then\ndare these men inveigh against those who introduce vacuums, and suppose\nthat there are indivisible atoms, and who say that motion and rest\nare not incompatible with each other, when they themselves affirm such\naxioms as these to be false: If any things are not equal to one another,\nthey are unequal to one another; and the same things are not equal and\nunequal to one another? But when he says that there is something greater\nand yet not exceeding, it were worth the while to ask, whether these\nthings quadrate with one another. For if they quadrate, how is either\nthe greater? And if they do not quadrate, how can it be but the one must\nexceed and the other fall short? For if neither of these are true, the\nother both will and will not quadrate with the greater. For those\nwho keep not the common conceptions must of necessity fall into such\nperplexities.\n\nIt is moreover against sense to say that nothing touches another; nor is\nthis less absurd, that bodies touch one another, but touch by nothing.\nFor they are necessitated to admit these things, who allow not the\nleast parts of a body, but assume something before that which appears to\ntouch, and never ceases to proceed still farther. What, therefore, these\nmen principally object to the patrons of those indivisible bodies called\natoms is this, that there is neither a touching of the whole by the\nwhole, nor of the parts by the parts; for that the one makes not a\ntouching but a mixture, and that the other is not possible, these\nindividuals having no parts. How then do not they themselves fall into\nthe same inconvenience, leaving no first or last part, whilst they say,\nthat whole bodies mutually touch one another by a term or extremity and\nnot by a part? But this term is not a body; therefore one body shall\ntouch one another by that which is incorporeal, and again shall not\ntouch, that which is incorporeal coming between them. And if it shall\ntouch, the body shall both do and suffer something by that which is\nincorporeal. For it is the nature of bodies mutually to do and\nsuffer, and to touch. But if the body has a touching by that which\nis incorporeal, it will have also a contact, and a mixture, and a\ncoalition. Again, in these contacts and mixtures the extremities of the\nbodies must either remain, or not remain but be corrupted. Now both\nof these are against sense. For neither do they themselves admit\ncorruptions and generations of incorporeal things; nor can there be a\nmixture and coalition of bodies retaining their own extremities. For\nthe extremity determines and constitutes the nature of the body;\nand mixtions, unless the mutual laying of parts by parts are thereby\nunderstood, wholly confound all those that are mixed. And, as these men\nsay, we must admit the corruption of extremities in mixtures, and their\ngeneration again in the separation of them. But this none can easily\nunderstand. Now by what bodies mutually touch each other, by the same\nthey press, thrust, and crush each other. Now that this should be done\nor take place in things that are incorporeal, is impossible and not\nso much as to be imagined. But yet this they would constrain us to\nconceive. For if a sphere touch a plane by a point, it is manifest that\nit may be also drawn over the plane upon a point; and if the superficies\nof it is painted with vermilion, it will imprint a red line on the\nplane; and if it is fiery hot, it will burn the plane. Now for an\nincorporeal thing to color, or a body to be burned by that which is\nincorporeal, is against sense. But if we should imagine an earthen\nor glassy sphere to fall from on high upon a plane of stone, it were\nagainst reason to think it would not be broken, being struck against\nthat which is hard and solid; but it would be more absurd that it should\nbe broken, falling upon an extremity or point that is incorporeal. So\nthat the presumptions concerning things incorporeal and corporeal are\nwholly disturbed, or rather taken away, by their joining to them many\nimpossibilities.\n\nIt is also against common sense, that there should be a time future and\npast, but no time present; and that EREWHILE and LATELY subsist, but NOW\nis nothing at all. Yet this often befalls the Stoics, who admit not the\nleast time between, nor will allow the present to be indivisible; but\nwhatsoever any one thinks to take and understand as present, one part of\nthat they say to be future, and the other part past; so that there is no\npart remaining or left of the present time: but of that which is said\nto be present, one part is distributed to the future, the other to the\npast. Therefore one of these two things follows: either that, holding\nthere was a time and there will be a time, we must deny there is a time;\nor we must hold that there is a time present, part of which has already\nbeen and part will be, and say that of that which now is, one part is\nfuture and the other past; and that of NOW, one part is before and the\nother behind; and that now is that which is neither yet now nor any\nlonger NOW; for that which is past is no longer now, and that which is\nto come is not yet NOW. And dividing thus the present, they must needs\nsay of the year and of the day, that part of it was of the year or day\npast, and part will be of the year or day to come; and that of what is\ntogether, there is a part before and a part after. For no less are they\nperplexed, confounding together these terms, NOT YET and ALREADY and NO\nLONGER and NOW and NOT NOW. But all other men suppose, esteem, and think\nEREWHILE and AWHILE HENCE to be different parts of time from NOW, which\nis followed by the one and preceded by the other. But Archedemus, saying\nthat now is the beginning and juncture of that which is past and that\nwhich is near at hand, has (as it seems) without perceiving it thereby\ndestroyeth all time. For if NOW is no time, but only a term or extremity\nof time, and if every part of time is such as now, all time seems\nto have no parts, but to be wholly dissolved into terms, joints, and\nbeginnings. But Chrysippus, desiring to show more artifice in his\ndivision, in his book of Vacuity and some others, says, that the past\nand future time are not, but have subsisted (or will subsist), and\nthat the present only is; but in his third, fourth, and fifth books\nconcerning Parts, he asserts, that of the present time one part is past,\nthe other to come. Thus it comes to pass, that he divides subsisting\ntime into non-subsisting parts of a subsisting total, or rather leaves\nnothing at all of time subsisting, if the present has no part but what\nis either future or past.\n\nThese men's conception therefore of time is not unlike the grasping of\nwater, which, the harder it is held, all the more slides and runs away.\nAs to actions and motions, all evidence is utterly confounded. For if\nNOW is divided into past and future, it is of necessity that what is now\nmoved partly has been moved and partly shall be moved, that the end and\nbeginning of motion have been taken away, that nothing of any work\nhas been done first, nor shall anything be last, the actions being\ndistributed with time. For as they say that of present time, part is\npast and part to come; so of that which is doing, it will be said that\npart is done and part shall be done. When therefore had TO DINE, TO\nWRITE, TO WALK, a beginning, and when shall they have an end, if every\none who is dining has dined and shall dine, and every one who is\nwalking has walked and shall walk? But this is, as it is said, of all\nabsurdities the most absurd, that if he who now lives has already lived\nand shall live, then to live neither had beginning nor shall have end;\nbut every one of us, as it seems, was born without commencing to live,\nand shall die without ceasing to live. For if there is no last part,\nbut he who lives has something of the present still remaining for the\nfuture, to say \"Socrates shall live\" will never be false so long as it\nshall be true to say \"Socrates lives\"; and so long also will it be false\nto say \"Socrates is dead.\" So that, if \"Socrates shall live\" is true\nin infinite parts of time, it will in no part of time be true to say\n\"Socrates is dead.\" And verily what end will there be of a work, and\nwhere will you terminate an action, if, as often as it is true to say\n\"This is doing,\" it is likewise true to say \"This shall be doing\"? For\nhe will lie who shall say, there will be an end of Plato's writing and\ndisputing; since Plato will never give over writing and disputing, if it\nis never false to say of him who disputes that he shall dispute, and of\nhim who writes that he shall write. Moreover, there will be no part of\nthat which now is, but either has been or is to be, and is either past\nor future; but of what has been and is to be, of past and future, there\nis no sense; wherefore there is absolutely no sense of anything. For we\nneither see what is past and future, nor do we hear or have any other\nsense of what has been or is to be. Nothing, then, even what is present,\nis to be perceived by sense, if of the present, part is always future\nand part past,--if part has been and part is to be.\n\nNow they indeed say, that Epicurus does intolerable things and violates\nthe conceptions, in moving all bodies with equal celerity, and admitting\nnone of them to be swifter than another. And yet it is much more\nintolerable and farther remote from sense, that nothing can be overtaken\nby another:--\n\n     Not though Adrastus's swift-footed steed\n     Should chase the tortoise slow,\n\nas the proverb has it. Now this must of necessity fall out, if things\nmove according to PRIUS and POSTERIUS, and the intervals through which\nthey pass are (as these men's tenet is) divisible IN INFINITUM; for if\nthe tortoise is but a furlong before the horse, they who divide\nthis furlong in infinitum, and move them both according to PRIUS and\nPOSTERIUS, will never bring the swiftest to the slowest; the slower\nalways adding some interval divisible into infinite spaces. Now to\naffirm that, water being poured from a bowl or cup, it will never be all\npoured out, is it not both against common sense, and a consequence of\nwhat these men say? For no man can understand the motion according to\nPRIUS of things infinitely divisible to be consummated; but leaving\nalways somewhat divisible, it will make all the effusion, all the\nrunning and flux of a liquid, motion of a solid, and fall of an heavy\nthing imperfect.\n\nI pass by many absurdities of theirs, touching only such as are against\nsense. The dispute concerning increase is indeed ancient; for the\nquestion, as Chrysippus says, was put by Epicharmus. Now, whereas those\nof the Academy think that the doubt is not very easy and ready all of\na sudden to be cleared, these men have mightily exclaimed against them,\nand accused them of taking away the fixed ideas, and yet themselves are\nso far from preserving the common notions, that they pervert even\nsense itself. For the discourse is simple, and these men grant the\nsuppositions,--that all particular substances flow and are carried, some\nof them emitting forth somewhat from themselves, and others receiving\nthings coming from elsewhere; and that the things to which there is\nmade an accession or from which there is a decession by numbers and\nmultitudes, do not remain the same, but become others by the said\naccessions, the substance receiving a change; and that these changes\nare not rightly called by custom increasings or diminutions, but it is\nfitter they should be styled generations and corruptions, because they\ndrive by force from one state to another, whereas to increase and be\ndiminished are passions of a body that is subject and permanent. These\nthings being thus in a manner said and delivered, what would these\ndefenders of evidence and canonical masters of common conceptions have?\nEvery one of us (they say) is double, twin-like, and composed of a\ndouble nature; not as the poets feigned of the Molionidae, that they in\nsome parts grow together and in some parts are separated,--but every one\nof us has two bodies, having the same color, the same figure, the same\nweight and place.... These things were never before seen by any man;\nbut these men alone have discerned this composition, doubleness, and\nambiguity, how every one of us is two subjects, the one substance, the\nother quality; and the one is in perpetual flux and motion, neither\nincreasing nor being diminished nor remaining altogether; the other\nremains and increases and is diminished, and suffers all things contrary\nto the former, with which it is so concorporated, conjoined, and\nconfounded, that it exhibits not any difference to be perceived by\nsense. Indeed, Lynceus is said to have penetrated stones and oaks with\nhis sight; and a certain man sitting on a watch-tower in Sicily beheld\nthe ships of the Carthaginians setting forth from their harbor, which\nwas a day and a night's sail from thence. Callicrates and Myrmecides\nare said to have made chariots that might be covered with the wings of\na fly, and to have engraved verses of Homer on a sesame seed. But none\never discerned or discovered this diversity in us; nor have we perceived\nourselves to be double, in one part always flowing, and in the other\nremaining the same from our birth even to our death. But I make the\ndiscourse more simple, since they make four subjects in every one, or\nrather every one of us to be four. But two are sufficient to show their\nabsurdity. For if, when we hear Pentheus in the tragedy affirm that he\nsees two suns and two cities of Thebes, (Euripides, \"Bacchae,\" 918.)\nwe say that he does not see, but that his sight is dazzled, he being\ntransported and troubled in his head; why do we not bid those farewell,\nwho assert not one city alone, but all men and animals, and all trees,\nvessels, instruments, and clothes, to be double and composed of two,\nas men who constrain us to dote rather than to understand? But this\nfeigning other natures of subjects must perhaps be pardoned them; for\nthere appears no other invention by which they can maintain and uphold\nthe augmentations of which they are so fond.\n\nBut by what cause moved, or for the adorning of what other suppositions,\nthey frame in a manner innumerable differences and forms of bodies\nin the soul, there is none can say, unless it be that they remove, or\nrather wholly abdicate and destroy, the common and usual notions, to\nintroduce other foreign and strange ones. For it is very absurd that,\nmaking all virtues and vices--and with them all arts, memories, fancies,\npassions, impulses, and assents--to be bodies, they should affirm that\nthey neither lie nor subsist in any subject, leaving them for a place\none only hole, like a prick in the heart, where they crowd the principal\npart of the soul, enclosed with so many bodies, that a very great number\nof them lie hid even from those who think they can spare and distinguish\nthem one from another. Nay that they should not only make them bodies,\nbut also intelligent beings, and even a swarm of such creatures, not\nfriendly or mild, but a multitude rebellious and having a hostile mind,\nand should so make of each one of us a park or menagerie or Trojan\nhorse, or whatever else we may call their inventions,--this is the very\nheight of contempt and contradiction to evidence and custom. But they\nsay, that not only the virtues and vices, not only the passions, as\nanger, envy, grief, and maliciousness, not only comprehensions, fancies,\nand ignorances, not only arts, as shoemaking and working in brass, are\nanimals; but besides these, also they make even the operations bodies\nand animals, saying that walking is an animal, as also dancing,\nsupposing, saluting, and railing. The consequence of this is that\nlaughing and weeping are also animals; and if so, then also are\ncoughing, sneezing, groaning, spitting, blowing the nose, and other such\nlike things sufficiently known. Neither have they any cause to take it\nill that they are by reason, proceeding leisurely, reduced to this, if\nthey shall call to mind how Chrysippus, in his First Book of Natural\nQuestions, argues thus: \"Is not night a body? And are not then the\nevening, dawning, and midnight bodies? Or is not a day a body? Is not\nthen the first day of the month a body? And the tenth, the fifteenth,\nand the thirtieth, are they not bodies? Is not a month a body? Summer,\nautumn, and the year, are they not bodies?\"\n\nThese things they maintain against the common conceptions; but those\nwhich follow they hold also against their own, engendering that which\nis most hot by refrigeration, and that which is most subtile by\ncondensation. For the soul, to wit, is a substance most hot and most\nsubtile. But this they make by the refrigeration and condensation of\nthe body, changing, as it were, by induration the spirit, which of\nvegetative is made animal. Moreover, they say that the sun became\nanimated, his moisture changing into intellectual fire. Behold how the\nsun is imagined to be engendered by refrigeration! Xenophanes indeed,\nwhen one told him that he had seen eels living in hot water, answered,\nWe will boil them then in cold. But if these men engender heat by\nrefrigeration and lightness by condensation, it follows, they must also\ngenerate cold things by heat, thick things by dissolution, and heavy\nthings by rarefaction, that so they may keep some proportion in their\nabsurdity.\n\nAnd do they not also determine the substance and generation of\nconception itself, even against the common conceptions? For conception\nis a certain imagination, and imagination an impression in the soul. Now\nthe nature of the soul is an exhalation, in which it is difficult for\nan impression to be made because of its tenuity, and for which it is\nimpossible to keep an impression it may have received. For its nutriment\nand generation, consisting of moist things, have continual accession and\nconsumption. And the mixture of respiration with the air always makes\nsome new exhalation which is altered and changed by the flux of the air\ncoming from abroad and again going out. For one may more easily imagine\nthat a stream of running water can retain figures, impressions, and\nimages, than that a spirit can be carried in vapors and humors, and\ncontinually mingled with another idle and strange breath from without.\nBut these men so far forget themselves, that, having defined the\nconceptions to be certain stored-up intelligences, and memoirs to be\nconstant and habitual impressions, and having wholly fixed the sciences,\nas having stability and firmness, they presently place under them a\nbasis and seat of a slippery substance, easy to be dissipated and in\nperpetual flux and motion.\n\nNow the common conception of an element and principle, naturally\nimprinted in almost all men, is this, that it is simple, unmixed, and\nuncompounded. For that is not an element or principle which is mixed;\nbut those things are so of which it is mixed. But these men, making God,\nwho is the principle of all things, to be an intellectual body and\na mind seated in matter, pronounce him to be neither simple nor\nuncompounded, but to be composed of and by another; matter being\nof itself indeed without reason and void of quality, and yet having\nsimplicity and the propertv of a principle. If, then, God is not\nincorporeal and immaterial, he participates of matter as a principle.\nFor if matter and reason are one and the same thing, they have not\nrightly defined matter to be reasonless; but if they are different\nthings, then is God constituted of them both, and is not a simple but\ncompound thing, having to the intellectual taken the corporeal from\nmatter.\n\nMoreover, calling these four bodies, earth, water, air, and fire, the\nfirst elements, they do (I know not how) make some of them simple and\npure, and others compound and mixed. For they maintain that earth and\nwater hold together neither themselves nor other things, but preserve\ntheir unity by the participation of air and force of fire; but that\nair and fire do both fortify themselves by their own strength, or being\nmixed with the other two, give them force, permanence, and subsistence.\nHow, then, is either earth or water an element, if neither of them\nis either simple, or first or self-sufficient, but if each one wants\nsomewhat from without to contain and keep it in its being? For they have\nnot left so much as a thought of their substance; but this discourse\nconcerning the earth has much confusion and uncertainty, when they say\nthat it subsists of itself; for if the earth is of itself, how has it\nneed of the air to fix and contain it? But neither the earth nor water\ncan any more be said to be of itself; but the air, drawing together\nand thickening the matter, has made the earth, and again dissolving\nand mollifying it, has produced the water. Neither of these then is an\nelement, since something else has contributed being and generation to\nthem both.\n\nMoreover, they say that subsistence and matter are subject to qualities,\nand do so in a manner define them; and again, they make the qualities to\nbe also bodies. But these things have much perplexity. For if qualities\nhave a peculiar substance, for which they both are and are called\nbodies, they need no other substance; for they have one of their own.\nBut if they have under them in common only that which the Stoic school\ncalls essence and matter, it is manifest they do but participate of the\nbody; for they are not bodies. But the subject and recipient must of\nnecessity differ from those things which it receives and to which it is\nsubject. But these men see by halves; for they say indeed that matter\nis void of quality, but they will not call qualities immaterial. Now how\ncan they make a body without quality, who understand no quality without\na body? For the reason which joins a body to all quality suffers not\nthe understanding to comprehend any body without some quality. Either,\ntherefore, he who oppugns incorporeal quality seems also to oppugn\nunqualified matter; or separating the one from the other, he mutually\nparts them both. As for the reason which some pretend, that matter is\ncalled unqualified not because it is void of all quality, but because\nit has all qualities, it is most of all against sense. For no man calls\nthat unqualified which is capable of every quality, nor that impassible\nwhich is by nature always apt to suffer all things, nor that immovable\nwhich is moved every way. And this doubt is not solved, that, however\nmatter is always understood with quality, yet it is understood to be\nanother thing and differing from quality.\n\n\nEND OF SIX-------------\n\n\n\n\nCONTRADICTIONS OF THE STOICS.\n\nI first lay this down for an axiom, that there ought to be seen in men's\nlives an agreement with their doctrines. For it is not so necessary that\nthe pleader (as Aeschines has it) and the law speak one and the same\nthing, as that the life of a philosopher be consonant to his speech. For\nthe speech of a philosopher is a law of his own and voluntarily imposed\non himself, unless they esteem philosophy to be a game, or an acuteness\nin disputing invented for the gaining of applause, and not--what it\nreally is--a thing deserving our greatest study.\n\nSince, then, there are in their discourses many things written by Zeno\nhimself, many by Cleanthes, and most of all by Chrysippus, concerning\npolicy, governing, and being governed, concerning judging and pleading,\nand yet there is not to be found in any of their lives either leading of\narmies, making of laws, going to parliament, pleading before the judges,\nfighting for their country, travelling on embassies, or making of public\ngifts, but they have all, feeding (if I may so say) on rest as on the\nlotus, led their whole lives, and those not short but very long ones,\nin foreign countries, amongst disputations, books, and walkings; it\nis manifest that they have lived rather according to the writings and\nsayings of others than their own professions, having spent all their\ndays in that repose which Epicurus and Hieronymus so much commend.\n\nChrysippus indeed himself, in his Fourth Book of Lives, thinks there is\nno difference between a scholastic life and a voluptuous one. I will\nset down here his very words: \"They who are of opinion that a scholastic\nlife is from the very beginning most suitable to philosophers seem to me\nto be in an error, thinking that men ought to follow this for the sake\nof some recreation or some other thing like to it, and in that manner\nto spin out the whole course of their life; that is, if it may be\nexplained, to live at ease. For this opinion of theirs is not to be\nconcealed, many of them delivering it clearly, and not a few more\nobscurely.\" Who therefore did more grow old in this scholastic life than\nChrysippus, Cleanthes, Diogenes, Zeno, and Antipater, who left their\ncountries not out of any discontent but that they might quietly enjoy\ntheir delight, studying, and disputing at their leisure. To verify\nwhich, Aristocreon, the disciple and intimate friend of Chrysippus,\nhaving erected his statue of brass upon a pillar, engraved on it these\nverses:--\n\n     This brazen statue Aristocreon\n     To's friend Chrysippus newly here has put,\n     Whose sharp-edged wit, like sword of champion,\n     Did Academic knots in sunder cut.\n\nSuch a one then was Chrysippus, an old man, a philosopher, one who\npraised the regal and civil life, and thought there was no difference\nbetween a scholastic and voluptuous one.\n\nBut those others of them who intermeddle in state affairs act yet more\ncontradictorily to their own doctrines. For they govern, judge, consult,\nmake laws, punish, and honor, as if those were indeed cities in the\ngovernment of which they concern themselves, those truly counsellors and\njudges who are at any time allotted to such offices, those generals who\nare chosen by suffrages, and those laws which were made by Clisthenes,\nLycurgus, and Solon, whom they affirm to have been vicious men and\nfools. Thus even over the management of state affairs are they at\nvariance with themselves.\n\nIndeed Antipater, in his writings concerning the difference between\nCleanthes and Chrysippus, has related that Zeno and Cleanthes would not\nbe made citizens of Athens, lest they might seem to injure their own\ncountries. I shall not much insist upon it, that, if they did well,\nChrysippus acted amiss in suffering himself to be enrolled as a member\nof that city. But this is very contradictory and absurd, that, removing\ntheir persons and their lives so far off amongst strangers, they\nreserved their names for their countries; which is the same thing as if\na man, leaving his wife, and cohabiting and bedding with another, and\ngetting children on her, should yet refuse to contract marriage with the\nsecond, lest he might seem to wrong the former.\n\nAgain, Chrysippus, writing in his treatise of Rhetoric, that a wise\nman will so plead and so act in the management of a commonwealth, as if\nriches, glory, and health were really good, confesses that his speeches\nare inextricable and impolitic, and his doctrines unsuitable for the\nuses and actions of human life.\n\nIt is moreover a doctrine of Zeno's, that temples are not to be built to\nthe gods; for that a temple is neither a thing of much value nor holy;\nsince no work of carpenters and handicrafts-men can be of much value.\nAnd yet they who praise these things as well and wisely said are\ninitiated in the sacred mysteries, go up to the Citadel (where\nMinerva's temple stands), adore the shrines, and adorn with garlands the\nsacraries, being the works of carpenters and mechanical persons. Again,\nthey think that the Epicureans, who sacrifice to the gods and yet deny\nthem to meddle with the government of the world, do thereby refute\nthemselves; whereas they themselves are more contrary to themselves,\nsacrificing on altars and in temples, which they affirm ought not to\nstand nor to have been built.\n\nMoreover, Zeno admits (as Plato does) several virtues having various\ndistinctions--to wit, prudence, fortitude, temperance, and justice--as\nbeing indeed inseparable, but yet divers and different from one another.\nBut again, defining every one of them, he says that fortitude is\nprudence in executing, justice prudence in distributing, as being one\nand the same virtue, but seeming to differ in its relation to different\naffairs when it comes to action. Nor does Zeno alone seem to contradict\nhimself in these matters; but Chrysippus also, who blames Ariston for\nsaying that the other virtues are different habits of one and the same\nvirtue, and yet defends Zeno, who in this manner defines every one of\nthe virtues. And Cleanthes, having in his Commentaries concerning Nature\nsaid, that vigor is the striking of fire, which, if it is sufficient\nin the soul to perform the duties presented to it, is called force and\nstrength; subjoins these very words: \"Now this force and strength, when\nit is in things apparent and to be persisted in, is continence; when\nin things to be endured, it is fortitude; when about worthiness, it is\njustice; and when about choosing or refusing, it is temperance.\" Against\nhim, who said,\n\n     Give not thy judgment till both sides are heard,\n     (In the \"Pseudo-Phocylidea,\" vs. 87 (Bergk).)\n\nZeno on the contrary made use of such an argument as this: \"If he who\nspake first has plainly proved his cause, the second is not to be heard,\nfor the question is at an end; and if he has not proved it, it is the\nsame case as if being cited he did not appear, or appearing did nothing\nbut wrangle; so that, whether he has proved or not proved his cause, the\nsecond is not to be heard.\" And yet he who made this dilemma has\nwritten against Plato's Commonweal, dissolved sophisms, and exhorted his\nscholars to learn logic, as enabling them to do the same. Now Plato\nhas either proved or not proved those things which he writ in his\nCommonweal; but in neither case was it necessary to write against\nhim, but wholly superfluous and vain. The same may be said concerning\nsophisms.\n\nChrysippus is of opinion, that young students should first learn logic,\nsecondly, ethics, and after these, physics, and likewise in this to\nmeddle last of all with the disputes concerning the gods. Now these\nthings having been often said by him, it will suffice to set down what\nis found in his Fourth Book of Lives, being thus word for word: \"First,\nthen, it seems to me, according as it has been rightly said by the\nancients, that there are three kinds of philosophical speculations,\nlogical, ethical, and physical, and that of these, the logical ought to\nbe placed first, the ethical second, and the physical third, and that\nof the physical, the discourse concerning the gods ought to be the last;\nwherefore also the traditions concerning this have been styled [Greek\nomitted], or the ENDINGS.\" But that very discourse concerning the gods,\nwhich he says ought to be placed the last, he usually places first and\nsets before every moral question. For he is seen not to say anything\nconcerning the ends, or concerning justice, or concerning good and evil,\nor concerning marriage and the education of children, or concerning the\nlaw and the commonwealth; but, as those who propose decrees to states\nset before them the words To Good Fortune, so he also premises something\nof Jupiter, Fate, Providence, and of the world's being one and finite\nand maintained by one power. None of which any one can be persuaded to\nbelieve, who has not penetrated deeply into the discourses of natural\nphilosophy. Hear what he says of this in his Third Book of the\nGods: \"For there is not to be found any other beginning or any other\ngeneration of Justice, but what is from Jupiter and common Nature. From\nthence must every such thing have its beginning, if we will say anything\nconcerning good and evil.\" And again, in his Natural Positions he says:\n\"For one cannot otherwise or more properly come to the discourse of good\nand evil, to the virtues, or to felicity, than from common Nature and\nthe administration of the world.\" And going farther on, he adds: \"For to\nthese we must annex the discourse concerning good and evil, there being\nno other better beginning or relation thereof, and the speculation of\nNature being learned for nothing else, but to understand the difference\nbetween good and evil.\" According to Chrysippus, therefore, the\nnatural science is both before and after the moral; or rather, it is an\ninversion of order altogether absurd, if this must be put after\nthose things none of which can be comprehended without this; and his\ncontradicting himself is manifest, when he asserts the discourse of\nNature to be the beginning of that concerning good and evil, and yet\ncommands it to be delivered, not before, but after it.\n\nNow, if any one shall say that Chrysippus in his book concerning the Use\nof Speech has written, that he who applies himself to logic first needs\nnot absolutely to abstain from the rest, but should take as much of them\nas shall fall in his way, he will indeed say the truth, but will withal\nconfirm the fault. For he oppugns himself, one while commanding that\nthe science concerning God should be taken last and for a conclusion,\nas being therefore also called [Greek omitted], and again, another while\nsaying that this is to be learned together with the very first. For\norder is at an end, if all things must be used at all times. But this is\nmore, that having made the science concerning the gods the beginning of\nthat concerning good and evil, he bids not those who apply themselves to\nthe ethics to begin with that; but learning these, to take of that\nalso as it shall come in their way, and then to go from these to that,\nwithout which, he says, there is no beginning or entrance upon these.\n\nAs for disputing on both sides, he says, that he does not universally\nreject it, but exhorts us to use it with caution, as is done in\npleadings, not with the aim really to disprove, but to dissolve their\nprobability. \"For to those,\" says he, \"who endeavor a suspension of\nassent concerning all things, it is convenient to do this, and it\nco-operates to what they desire; but as for those who would work\nand constitute in us a certain science according to which we shall\nprofessedly live, they ought, on the contrary, to state the first\nprinciples, and to direct their novices who are entered from the\nbeginning to the end; and where there is occasion to make mention\nof contrary discourses, to dissolve their probability, as is done in\npleadings.\" For this he hath said in express words. Now that it is\nabsurd for philosophers to think that they ought to set down the\ncontrary opinion, not with all its reasons, but like pleaders, disabling\nit, as if they contended not for truth but victory, we have elsewhere\nspoken against him. But that he himself has, not in one or two places\nin his disputations, but frequently, confirmed the discourses which\nare contrary to his own opinions, and that stoutly, and with so much\nearnestness and contention that it was not for every one to understand\nwhat he liked,--the Stoics themselves affirm, who admire the man's\nacuteness, and think that Carneades said nothing of his own, but that\ncatching hold of those arguments which Chrysippus alleged for the\ncontrary opinion, he assaulted with them his positions, and often cried\nout,\n\n     Wretch, thy own strength will thee undo,\n     (\"Iliad\", vi. 407.)\n\nas if Chrysippus had given great advantages against himself to those who\nwould disturb and calumniate his doctrines.\n\nBut of those things which he has written against Custom they are so\nproud and boastful, that they fear not to affirm, that all the sayings\nof all the Academics together, if they were collected into one body,\nare not comparable to what Chrysippus has writ in disparagement of the\nsenses. Which is an evident sign of the ignorance or self-love of the\nspeakers; but this indeed is true, that being afterwards desirous to\ndefend custom and the senses, he was inferior to himself, and the\nlatter treatise was much weaker than the former. So that he contradicts\nhimself; for having always directed the proposing of an adversary's\nopinions not with approbation, but with a demonstration of their\nfalsity, he has showed himself more acute in opposing than defending\nhis own doctrines; and having admonished others to take heed of contrary\narguments, as withdrawing comprehension, he has been more sedulous in\nframing such proofs as take away comprehension, than such as confirm it.\nAnd yet he plainly shows that he himself feared this, writing thus in\nhis Fourth Book of Lives: \"Repugnant arguments and probabilities on the\ncontrary side are not rashly to be proposed, but with caution, lest the\nhearers distracted by them should let go their conceptions, not being\nable sufficiently to apprehend the solutions, but so weakly that their\ncomprehensions may easily be shaken. For even those who have, according\nto custom, preconceived both sensible phenomena and other things\ndepending on the senses quickly forego them, being distracted by\nMegarian interrogatories and by others more numerous and forcible.\"\nI would willingly therefore ask the Stoics, whether they think these\nMegarian interrogatories to be more forcible than those which Chrysippus\nhas written in six books against custom; or rather this should be\nasked of Chrysippus himself. For observe what he has written about the\nMegarian reason, in his book concerning the Use of Speech, thus: \"Some\nsuch things fell out in the discourse of Stilpo and Menedemus; for,\nwhereas they were renowned for wisdom, their disputing has turned to\ntheir reproach, their arguments being part clumsy, and the rest plainly\nsophistical.\" And yet, good sir, you fear lest those arguments which you\nderide and term the disgrace of their proposers, as having a manifest\nfaultiness, should divert some from comprehension. And did not you\nyourself, writing so many books against custom, in which you have added\nwhatever you could invent, ambitiously striving to exceed Arcesilaus,\nexpect that you should perplex some of your readers? For neither does\nhe use slender arguments against custom; but as if he were pleading, he\nwith some passion in himself stirs up the affections of others, telling\nhis opponent that he talks foolishly and labors in vain. And that he\nmay leave no room to deny his speaking of contradictions, he has in\nhis Natural Positions written thus: \"It may be lawful for those who\ncomprehend a thing to argue on the contrary side, applying to it that\nkind of defence which the subject itself affords; and sometimes, when\nthey comprehend neither, to discourse what is alleged for either.\" And\nhaving said in his book concerning the Use of Speech, that we ought no\nmore to use the force of reason than of arms for such things as are not\nfitting, he subjoins this: \"For they are to be employed for the finding\nout of truths and for the alliance of them, and not for the contrary,\nthough many men do it.\" By \"many\" perhaps he means those who withhold\ntheir assent. But these teachers, understanding neither, dispute on\nboth sides, believing that, if anything is comprehensible, thus only or\nchiefly does truth afford a comprehension of itself. But you, who\naccuse them, and do yourself write contrary to those things which you\nunderstood concerning custom, and exhort others under your authority to\ndo the same, confess that you wantonly use the faculty of disputing, out\nof vain ambition, even on useless and hurtful things.\n\nThey say, that a good deed is the command, and sin the prohibition of\nthe law; and therefore that the law forbids the wicked many things, but\ncommands them nothing, because they cannot do a good deed. But who is\nignorant that he who cannot do a good deed cannot also sin? Therefore\nthey make the law to contradict itself, commanding men those things\nwhich they cannot perform, and forbidding them those things from which\nthey cannot abstain. For a man who cannot be temperate cannot but act\nintemperately; and he who cannot be wise cannot but act foolishly. And\nthey themselves affirm, that those who forbid say one thing, forbid\nanother and command another. For he who says \"Thou shalt not steal\" at\nthe same time that he says these words, \"Thou shalt not steal, forbids\nalso to steal and directs not to steal. The law therefor bids the wicked\nnothing, unless it also commands them something. And they say, that the\nphysician bids his disciple to cut and cauterize, omitting to add\nthese words, 'seasonably and moderately'; and the musician commands his\nscholar to play on the harp and sing, omitting 'tunably' and 'keeping\ntime'.\" Wherefore also they punish those who do these things unskilfully\nand faultily; for that they were commanded to do them well, and they\nhave done them ill. If therefore a wise man commands his servant to say\nor do something, and punishes him for doing it unseasonably or not as he\nought, is it not manifest that he commanded him to do a good action and\nnot an indifferent one? But if wise men command wicked ones indifferent\nthings, what hinders but the commands of the law may be also such?\nMoreover, the impulse (called [Greek omitted]) is, according to him, the\nreason of a man commanding him to do something, as he has written in\nhis book of the law. Is not therefore also the aversion (called [Greek\nomitted]) a prohibiting reason, and a disinclination, a disinclination\nagreeable to reason? Caution therefore is also reason prohibiting a w\ncautious is proper only to the wise, and not to the wicked. If, then,\nthe reason of a wise man is one thing and the law another, wise men\nhave caution contrary to the law; but if the law is nothing else but the\nreason of a wise man, the law is found to forbid wise men the doing of\nthose things of which they are cautious.\n\nChrysippus says, that nothing is profitable to the wicked, that the\nwicked have neither use nor need of anything. Having said this in his\nFirst Book of Good Deeds, he says again, that both commodiousness and\ngrace pertain to mean or indifferent things, none of which according to\nthem, is profitable. In the same place he affirms, that there is nothing\nproper, nothing convenient for a vicious man, in these words: \"On the\nsame principle we declare that there is nothing foreign or strange to\nthe good man, and nothing proper or rightfully belonging to the bad man,\nsince the one is good and the other bad.\" Why, then, does he break our\nheads, writing particularly in every one of his books, as well natural\nas moral, that as soon as we are born we are appropriated to ourselves,\nour parts, and our offspring? And why in his First Book of Justice does\nhe say that the very brutes, proportionably to the necessity of\ntheir young, are appropriated to them, except fishes, whose young are\nnourished by themselves? For neither have they sense who have\nnothing sensible, nor they appropriation who have nothing proper; for\nappropriation seems to be the sense and perception of what is proper.\n\nAnd this opinion is consequent to their principal ones. It is moreover\nmanifest that Chrysippus, though he has also written many things to the\ncontrary, lays this for a position, that there is not any vice greater\nor any sin more grievous than another, nor any virtue more excellent or\nany good deed better than another; so that he says in his Third Book of\nNature: \"As it well beseems Jupiter to glory in himself and his life,\nto magnify himself, and (if we may so say) to bear up his head, have an\nhigh conceit of himself, and speak big, for that he leads a life worthy\nof lofty speech; so the same things do not misbeseem all good men, since\nthey are in nothing exceeded by Jupiter.\" And yet himself, in his Third\nBook of Justice, says, that they who make pleasure the end destroy\njustice, but they who say it is only a good do not destroy it. These are\nhis very words: \"For perhaps, if we leave this to pleasure, that it is a\ngood but not the end, and that honesty is one of those things which are\neligible for themselves, we may preserve justice, making the honest and\nthe just a greater good than pleasure.\" But if that only is good which\nis honest, he who affirms pleasure to be a good is in an error, but\nhe errs less than he who makes it also the end; for the one destroys\njustice, the other preserves it; and by the one human society is\noverthrown, but the other leaves a place to goodness and humanity. Now\nI let pass his saying farther in his book concerning Jupiter, that the\nvirtues increase and go on, lest I may seem to catch at words; though\nChrysippus is indeed in this kind very sharp upon Plato and others. But\nwhen he forbids the praising of everything that is done according to\nvirtue, he shows that there is some difference between good deeds. Now\nhe says thus in his book concerning Jupiter: \"For since each virtue has\nits own proper effects, there are some of these that are to be praised\nmore highly than others; for he would show himself to be very frigid,\nthat should undertake to praise and extol any man for holding out the\nfinger stoutly, for abstaining continently from an old woman ready to\ndrop into the grave, and patiently hearing it said that three are not\nexactly four.\" What he says in his Third Book of the Gods is not unlike\nto this: \"For I moreover think that the praises of such things as to\nabstain from an old woman who has one foot in the grave, and to endure\nthe sting of a fly, though proceeding from virtue, would be very\nimpertinent.\" What other reprehender of his doctrines does this man\nthen expect? For if he who praises such things is frigid, he who asserts\nevery one of them to be a great--nay, a very great good deed--is much\nmore frigid. For if to endure a fly is equal to being valiant, and to\nabstain from an old woman now at the edge of the grave is equal to being\ntemperate, there is, I think, no difference whether a virtuous man\nis prized for these or for those. Moreover, in his Second Book of\nFriendship, teaching that friendships are not for every fault to be\ndissolved, he has these very expressions: \"For it is meet that some\nfaults should be wholly passed by, others lightly reprehended,\nothers more severely, and others deemed worthy a total dissolution of\nfriendship.\" And which is more, he says in the same book, that we will\nconverse with some more and some less, so that some shall be more and\nsome less friends; and this diversity extending very far, some are\nworthy of such an amity, others of a greater; and these will deserve to\nbe so far trusted, those not so far, and the like. For what else has\nhe done in these places, but shown the great diversity there is between\nthese things? Moreover, in his book concerning Honesty, to demonstrate\nthat only to be good which is honest, he uses these words: \"What is\ngood is eligible; what is eligible is acceptable; what is acceptable is\nlaudable; and what is laudable is honest.\" And again: \"What is good is\njoyous; what is joyous is venerable; what is venerable is honest.\"\nBut these speeches are repugnant to himself; for either all good is\ncommendable, and then the abstaining chastely from an old woman is\nalso commendable; or all good is neither venerable nor joyous, and his\nreasoning falls to the ground. For how can it possibly be frigid in\nothers to praise any for such things, and not ridiculous for him to\nrejoice and glory in them?\n\nSuch indeed he frequently is; but in his disputations against others he\ntakes not the least care of speaking things contrary and dissonant to\nhimself. For in his books of Exhorting, reprehending Plato, who\nsaid, that to him who has neither learned nor knows how to live it is\nprofitable not to live, he speaks in this manner: \"For this speech\nis both repugnant to itself, and not at all conclusive. For first\ninsinuating that it is best for us not to live, and in a sort\ncounselling us to die, he will excite us rather to anything else than to\nbe philosophers; for neither can he who does not live philosophize, nor\nhe who shall live long wickedly and ignorantly become wise.\" And going\non, he says that it is convenient for the wicked also to continue in\nlife. And afterwards thus, word for word: \"First, as virtue, barely\ntaken, has nothing towards our living, so neither has vice anything to\noblige us to depart.\" Nor is it necessary to turn over other books,\nthat we may show Chrysippus's contradictoriness to himself; but in\nthese same, he sometimes with commendation brings forth this saying of\nAntisthenes, that either understanding or a halter is to be provided, as\nalso that of Tyrtaeus,\n\n     Come nigh the bounds of virtue or of death.\n\nNow what else will this show, but that to wicked men and fools not to\nlive is more profitable than to live? And sometimes correcting Theognis,\nhe says, that the poet should not have written,\n\n     From poverty to fly;--\n\nbut rather thus,\n\n     From wickedness to fly, into the deep\n     Throw thyself, Cyrnus, or from rocks so steep.\n     (See \"Theognis,\" vs. 175.)\n\nWhat therefore else does he seem to do, but to set down himself those\nthings and doctrines which, when others write them, he expunges;\ncondemning, indeed, Plato for showing that not to live is better than\nto live viciously and ignorantly; and yet advising Theognis to let a man\nbreak his neck or throw himself into the sea, that he may avoid vice?\nFor having praised Antisthenes for directing fools to an halter, he\nagain blames him, saying that vice has nothing that should oblige us to\ndepart out of life.\n\nMoreover, in his books against the same Plato, concerning Justice, he\nimmediately at the very beginning leaps into a discourse touching the\ngods, and says, that Cephalus did not rightly avert men from injustice\nby the fear of the gods, and that his teaching is easily refuted,\nand that it affords to the contrary many arguments and probabilities\nimpugning the discourse concerning divine punishments, as nothing\ndiffering from the tales of Acco and Alphito (or Raw-Head and\nBloody-Bones), with which women are wont to frighten little children\nfrom their unlucky pranks. Having thus traduced Plato, he in other\nplaces again praises him, and often alleges this saying of Euripides:--\n\n     Howe'er you may deride it, there's a Jove,\n     With other gods, who sees men's ills above.\n\nAnd likewise, in his First Book of Justice citing these verses of\nHesiod,\n\n     Then Jove from heaven punishments did send,\n     And plague and famine brought them to their end,\n     (\"Works and Days,\" 242.)\n\nhe says, the gods do these things, that the wicked being punished,\nothers admonished by these examples may less dare to attempt the doing\nof such things.\n\nAgain, in his book of Justice, subjoining, that it is possible for those\nwho make pleasure a good but not the end to preserve also justice, he\nsaid in express terms: \"For perhaps if we leave this to pleasure, that\nit is a good but not the end, and that honesty is one of those things\nwhich are eligible for themselves, we may preserve justice, making the\nhonest and the just a greater good than pleasure.\" So much he says in\nthis place concerning pleasure. But in his book against Plato, accus\ntemperance, and all the other virtues will be taken away, if we make\npleasure, health, or anything else which is not honest, to be a good.\nWhat therefore is to be said for Plato, we have elsewhere written\nagainst him. But here his contradicting himself is manifest, when he\nsays in one place, that if a man supposes that with honesty pleasure\nalso is a good, justice is preserved, and in another, accuses those\nwho make anything besides honesty to be a good of taking away all the\nvirtues. But that he may not leave any means of making an apology for\nhis contradictions, writing against Aristotle concerning justice, he\naffirms him not to have spoken rightly when he said, that pleasure being\nmade the end, justice is taken away, and together with justice, every\none also of the other virtues. For justice (he says) will indeed be\ntaken away; but there is nothing to hinder the other virtues from\nremaining and being, though not eligible for themselves, yet good and\nvirtues. Then he reckons up every one of them by name. But it will be\nbetter to set down his own words. \"For pleasure,\" says he, \"appearing\naccording to this discourse to be made the end, yet all this seems not\nto me to be contained in it. Wherefore we must say, that neither any of\nthe virtues is eligible nor any of the vices to be avoided for itself,\nbut that all these things are to be referred to the proposed scope. Yet\nnothing, according to their opinion, will hinder but that fortitude,\nprudence, continence, and patience may be good, and their contraries\nto be avoided.\" Has there ever then been any man more peevish in his\ndisputes than he, who has blamed two of the principal philosophers, the\none for taking away all virtue, by not making that only to be good which\nis honest, and the other for not thinking all the virtues except justice\nto be preserved, though pleasure is made the end? For it is a wonderful\nlicentiousness that, discoursing of the same matters, he should when\naccusing Plato take away again those very things which himself sets down\nwhen reprehending Aristotle. Moreover, in his demonstrations concerning\njustice, he says expressly, that every good deed is both a lawful action\nand a just operation; but that everything which is done according\nto continence, patience, prudence, or fortitude is a good deed, and\ntherefore also a just operation. Why, then, does he not also leave\njustice to them to whom he leaves prudence, fortitude, and continence;\nsince whatever they do well according to the said virtue, they do also\njustly?\n\nMoreover, Plato having said, that injustice, as being the corruption\nand sedition of the soul, loses not its power even in those who have it\nwithin them, but sets the wicked man against himself, and molests and\ndisturbs him; Chrysippus, blaming this, affirms that it is absurdly\nsaid, \"A man injures himself\"; for that injustice is to another, and not\nto one's self. But forgetting this, he again says, in his demonstrations\nconcerning justice, that the unjust man is injured by himself and\ninjures himself when he injures another, becoming to himself the cause\nof transgressing, and undeservedly hurting himself. In his books indeed\nagainst Plato, contending that we cannot talk of injustice against one's\nself, but as concerns another, he has these words: \"For men cannot be\nunjust by themselves; injustice requires several on different sides,\nspeaking contrary one unto another and the injustice must be taken in\ndifferent ways. But no such thing extends to one alone, except inasmuch\nas he is affected towards his neighbor.\" But in his demonstrations\nhe has such discourses as these, concerning the unjust man's being\ninjurious also to himself: \"The law forbids the being any way the\nauthor of transgression, and to act unjustly will be transgression. He\ntherefore who is to himself the author of acting unjustly transgresses\nagainst himself. Now he that transgresses against any one also injures\nhim; therefore he who is injurious to any one whomsoever is injurious\nalso to himself.\" Again: \"Sin is a hurt, and every one who sins\nsins against himself; every one therefore who sins hurts himself\nundeservedly, and if so, is also unjust to himself.\" And farther thus:\n\"He who is hurt by another hurts himself, and that undeservedly. Now\nthat is to be unjust. Every one therefore that is injured, by whomsoever\nit is, is unjust also to himself.\"\n\nHe says, that the doctrine concerning good and evil which himself\nintroduces and approves is most agreeable to life, and does most of all\nreach the inbred prenotions; for this he has affirmed in his Third Book\nof Exhortations. But in his First Book he says, that this doctrine\ntakes a man off from all other things, as being nothing to us, nor\nco-operating anything towards felicity. See, now, how consonant he is\nto himself, when he asserts a doctrine which takes us off from life,\nhealth, indolence, and integrity of the senses, and says that those\nthings we beg of the gods are nothing to us, though most agreeable to\nlife and to the common presumptions. But that there may be no denial of\nhis speaking contradictions, in his Third Book of Justice he has said\nthus: \"Wherefore also, from the excellence of their greatness and\nbeauty, we seem to speak things like to fictions, and not according to\nman or human nature.\" Is it then possible that any one can more plainly\nconfess his speaking things contrary to himself than this man does, who\naffirms those things which (he says) for their excellency seem to be\nfictions and to be spoken above man and human nature, to be agreeable to\nlife, and most of all to reach the inbred prenotions?\n\nIn every one of his natural and ethical books, he asserts vice to be\nthe very essence of unhappiness; writing and contending that to live\nviciously is the same thing as to live unhappily. But in his Third Book\nof Nature, having said that it is profitable for a fool to live rather\nthan to die, though he is never to become wise, he subjoins: \"For such\nis the nature of good things among mortals, that evil things are in some\nsort chosen before indifferent ones.\" I let pass therefore, that having\nelsewhere said that nothing is profitable to fools, he here says that\nto live foolishly is profitable to them. Now those things being by them\ncalled indifferent which are neither bad nor good, when he says that bad\nthings precede them, he says nothing else but that evil things precede\nthose that are not evil, and that to be unhappy is more profitable than\nnot to be unhappy; and if so, he esteems not to be unhappy to be\nmore unprofitable--and if more unprofitable, more hurtful--than to\nbe unhappy. Desiring therefore to mitigate this absurdity, he adds\nconcerning evils: \"But it is not these evils that have precedence, but\nreason; with which it is more convenient to live, though we shall be\nfools.\" First therefore he says that vice and things participating\nof vice are evil, and that nothing else is so. Now vice is something\nreasonable, or rather depraved reason. For those therefore who are fools\nto live with reason, is nothing else but to live with vice. Thence to\nlive being fools is to live being unhappy. In what then is this to be\npreferred to indifferent things? For he surely will not say that with\nregard to happiness unhappiness is to be preferred. But neither, say\nthey, does Chrysippus altogether think that the remaining in life is to\nbe reckoned amongst good things, or the going out of it amongst bad; but\nboth of them amongst indifferent ones, according to Nature. Wherefore\nalso it sometimes becomes meet for the happy to make themselves\naway, and again for the unhappy to continue in life. Now what greater\nrepugnance can there be than this in the choice and avoiding of things,\nif it is convenient for those who are in the highest degree happy to\nforsake those good things that are present, for the want of some one\nindifferent thing? And yet they esteem none of the indifferent things\neither desirable or to be avoided; but only good desirable, and only\nevil to be avoided. So that it comes to pass, according to them, that\nthe reasoning about actions regards neither things desirable nor things\nrefusable; but that aiming at other things, which they neither shun nor\nchoose, they make life and death to depend on these.\n\nChrysippus confesses that good things are totally different from bad;\nand it must of necessity be so, if these make them with whom they are\npresent miserable to the very utmost point, and those render their\npossessors in the highest degree happy. Now he says, that good and evil\nthings are sensible, writing thus in his First Book of the End: \"That\ngood and evil things are perceptible by sense, we are by these reasons\nforced to say; for not only the passions, with their species, as sorrow,\nfear, and such others, are sensible; but we may also have a sense of\ntheft, adultery, and the like, and generally, of folly, cowardice, and\nother vices not a few; and again, not only of joy, beneficence, and many\nother dependences on good deeds, but also of prudence, fortitude,\nand the other virtues.\" Let us pass by the other absurdities of these\nthings; but that they are repugnant to those things which are delivered\nby him concerning \"the wise man that knows nothing of his being so,\" who\ndoes not confess? For good, when present, being sensible and having a\ngreat difference from evil, is it not most absurd, that he who is of\nbad become good should be ignorant of it, and not perceive virtue when\npresent, but think that vice is still within him? For either none who\nhas all virtues can be ignorant and doubt of his having them; or the\ndifference of virtue from vice, of happiness from misery, and of a most\nhonest life from a most shameful one, is little and altogether difficult\nto be discerned, if he who has taken the one in exchange for the other\ndoes not perceive it.\n\nHe has written one volume of lives divided into four books; in the\nfourth of these he says, that a wise man meddles with no business but\nhis own, and is employed about his own affairs. His words are these:\n\"For I am of opinion, that a prudent man shuns affairs, meddles little,\nand at the same time minds his own occasions; civil persons being both\nminders of their own affairs and meddlers with little else.\" He has said\nalmost the same in his book of Things eligible for Themselves, in these\nvery words: \"For indeed a quiet life seems to have in it a certain\nsecurity and freedom from danger, though there are not very many who\ncan comprehend it.\" It is manifest that he does not much dissent from\nEpicurus, who takes away Providence that he may leave God in repose.\nBut the same Chrysippus in his First Book of Lives says, that a wise man\nwillingly takes upon him a kingdom, making his profit by it; and if he\ncannot reign himself, will dwell with a king, and go to the wars with\na king like Hydanthyrsus the Scythian or Leucon the Pontic. But I will\nhere also set down his very discourse, that we may see whether, as from\nthe treble and the base strings there arises a symphony in music, so\nthe life of a man who chooses quietness and meddling with little accords\nwith him who, upon any necessity, rides along with the Scythians and\nmanages the affairs of the tyrants in the Bosphorus: \"For that a wise\nman will both go to the wars and live with potentates, we will again\nconsider this hereafter; some indeed upon the like arguments not so much\nas suspecting this, and we for semblable reasons admitting it.\" And\na little after: \"Not only with those who have proceeded well, and are\nbecome proficients in discipline and good manners, as with Leucon and\nHydanthyrsus.\"\n\nSome there are who blame Callisthenes for sailing to Alexander in hopes\nto obtain the rebuilding of Olynthus, as Aristotle had procured that of\nStagira; and commend Ephorus, Xenocrates, and Menedemus, who rejected\nAlexander's solicitation. But Chrysippus thrusts his wise man\nheadforwards for the sake of gain, as far as Panticapaeum and the desert\nof the Scythians. And that he does this for the sake of profit and gain,\nhe has showed before, supposing three ways of gaining most suitable for\na wise man,--the first by a kingdom, the second by his friends, and the\nthird, besides these, by teaching philosophy. And yet he frequently even\ntires us with his praises of this saying:--\n\n     What need have men of more than these two things?\n\nAnd in his books of Nature he says, that a wise man, if he has lost the\ngreatest wealth imaginable, seems to have lost but a single groat. But\nhaving there thus elevated and puffed him up, he again here throws him\ndown to mercenariness and sophistry; nay, to asking money and even to\nreceiving it beforehand, sometimes at the very entrance of his scholar,\nand otherwhiles after some time past. The last, he says indeed, is the\nmore polite, but to receive beforehand the more sure; delay allowing\nof injuries. Now he says thus: \"All who are well advised do not require\ntheir salary in the same manner, but differently; a multitude of them,\nas opportunity offers, not promising to make their scholars good men,\nand that within a year, but to do this, as far as in them lies, within\na time agreed on.\" And again going on, he says: \"But he will know his\nopportunity, whether he ought to receive his recompense presently at\nthe very entrance (as many have done), or to give them time, this manner\nbeing more liable to injuries, but withal, seeming the more courteous.\"\nAnd how is the wise man a contemner of wealth, who upon a contract\ndelivers virtue for money, and if he has not delivered it, yet requires\nhis reward, as having done what is in him? Or how is he above being\nendamaged, when he is so cautious lest he be wronged of his recompense?\nFor no man is wronged who is not endamaged. Therefore, though he has\nelsewhere asserted that a wise man cannot be injured, he here says, that\nthis manner of dealing is liable to injury.\n\nIn his book of a Commonweal he says, that his citizens will neither act\nnor prepare anything for the sake of pleasure, and praises Euripides for\nhaving uttered this sentence:--\n\n     What need have men of more than these two things,\n     The fruits of Ceres, and thirst-quenching springs?\n\nAnd yet a little after this, going on, he commends Diogenes, who forced\nhis nature to pass from himself in public, and said to those that were\npresent: I wish I could in the same manner drive hunger also out of my\nbelly. What reason then is there to praise in the same books him who\nrejects all pleasure, and withal, him who for the sake of pleasure does\nsuch things, and proceeds to such a degree of filthiness? Moreover,\nhaving in his book of Nature written, that Nature has produced many\ncreatures for the sake of beauty, delighting in pulchritude and pleasing\nherself with variety, and having added a most absurd expression, that\nthe peacock was made for the sake of his tail and for the beauty of it;\nhe has, in his treatise of a Commonweal, sharply reprehended those who\nbred peacocks and nightingales, as if he were making laws contrary to\nthe lawgiver of the world, and deriding Nature for pleasing herself in\nthe beauty of animals to which a wise man would not give a place in\nhis city. For how can it but be absurd to blame those who nourish these\ncreatures, if he commends Providence which created them? In his Fifth\nBook of Nature, having said, that bugs profitably awaken us out of our\nsleep, that mice make us cautious not to lay up everything negligently,\nand that it is probable that Nature, rejoicing in variety, takes delight\nin the production of fair creatures, he adds these words: \"The evidence\nof this is chiefly shown in the peacock's tail; for here she manifests\nthat this animal was made for the sake of his tail, and not the\ncontrary; so, the male being made, the female follows.\" In his book of\na Commonweal, having said that we are ready to paint even dunghills,\na little after he adds, that some beautify their cornfields with vines\nclimbing up trees, and myrtles set in rows, and keep peacocks, doves,\nand partridges, that they may hear them cry and coo, and nightingales.\nNow I would gladly ask him, what he thinks of bees and honey? For it\nwas of consequence, that he who said bugs were created profitably should\nalso say that bees were created unprofitably. But if he allows these a\nplace in his city, why does he drive away his citizens from things that\nare pleasing and delight the ear? To be brief,--as he would be very\nabsurd who should blame the guests for eating sweetmeats and other\ndelicacies and drinking of wine, and at the same time commend him who\ninvited them and prepared such things for them; so he that praises\nProvidence, which has afforded fishes, birds, honey, and wine, and at\nthe same time finds fault with those who reject not these things, nor\ncontent themselves with\n\n     The fruits of Ceres and thirst-quenching springs,\n\nwhich are present and sufficient to nourish us, seems to make no scruple\nof speaking things contradictory to himself.\n\nMoreover, having said in his book of Exhortations, that the having\ncarnal commerce with our mothers, daughters, or sisters, the eating\nforbidden food, and the going from a woman's bed or a dead carcass to\nthe temple, have been without reason blamed, he affirms, that we ought\nfor these things to have a regard to the brute beasts, and from what\nis done by them conclude that none of these is absurd or contrary to\nNature; for that the comparisons of other animals are fitly made for\nthis purpose, to show that neither their coupling, bringing-forth, nor\ndying in the temples pollutes the Divinity. Yet he again in his Fifth\nBook of Nature says, that Hesiod rightly forbids urinating into rivers\nand fountains, and that we should rather abstain from doing this against\nany altar, or statue of the gods; and that it is not to be admitted for\nan argument, that dogs, asses, and young children do it, who have no\ndiscretion or consideration of such things. It is therefore absurd to\nsay in one place, that the savage example of irrational animals is fit\nto be considered, and in another, that it is unreasonable to allege it.\n\nTo give a solution to the inclinations, when a man seems to be\nnecessitated by exterior causes, some philosophers place in the\nprincipal faculty of the soul a certain adventitious motion, which is\nchiefly manifested in things differing in no way from one another. For\nwhen, with two things altogether alike and of equal importance, there is\na necessity to choose the one, there being no cause inclining to either,\nfor that neither of them differs from the other, this adventitious\npower of the soul, seizing on its inclination, determines the doubt.\nChrysippus, discoursing against these men, as offering violence to\nNature by imagining an effect without a cause, in many places alleges\nthe die and the balance, and several other things, which cannot fall or\nincline either one way or the other without some cause or difference,\neither wholly within them or coming to them from without; for that\nwhat is causeless (he says) is wholly insubsistent, as also what\nis fortuitous; and in those motions devised by some and called\nadventitious, there occur certain obscure causes, which, being concealed\nfrom us, move our inclinations to one side or other. These are some of\nthose things which are most evidently known to have been frequently said\nby him; but what he has said contrary to this, not lying so exposed to\nevery one's sight, I will set down in his own words. For in his book\nof Judging, having supposed two running for a wager to have exactly\nfinished their race together, he examines what is fit for the judge in\nthis case to do. \"Whether,\" says he, \"may the judge give the palm to\nwhich of them he will, since they both happen to be so familiar to him,\nthat he would in some sort appear to bestow on them somewhat of his own?\nOr rather, since the palm is common to both, may it be, as if lots had\nbeen cast, given to either, according to the inclination he chances\nto have? I say the inclination he chances to have, as when two groats,\nevery way else alike, being presented to us, we incline to one of them\nand take it.\" And in his Sixth Book of Duties, having said that there\nare some things not worthy of much study or attention, he thinks we\nought, as if we had cast lots, to commit the choice of those things to\nthe casual inclination of the mind: \"As if,\" says he, \"of those who\ntry the same two drams in a certain time, some should approve this and\nothers that, and there being no more cause for the taking of one than\nthe other, we should leave off making any farther investigation and\ntake that which chances to come first; thus casting the lot (as it were)\naccording to some uncertain principle, and being in danger of choosing\nthe worse of them.\" For in these passages, the casting of lots and the\ncasual inclining of the mind, which is without any cause, introduce the\nchoice of indifferent things.\n\nIn his Third Book of Dialectics, having said that Plato, Aristotle, and\nthose who came after them, even to Polemon and Straton, but especially\nSocrates, diligently studied dialectics, and having cried out that one\nwould even choose to err with such and so great men as these, he brings\nin these words: \"For if they had spoken of these things cursorily,\none might perhaps have cavilled at this place; but having treated of\ndialectic skill as one of the greatest and most necessary faculties, it\nis not probable they should have been so much mistaken, having been such\nin all the parts of philosophy as we esteem them.\" Why, then (might some\none say to him), do you never cease to oppose and argue against such\nand so great men, as if you thought them to err in the principal and\ngreatest matters? For it is not probable that they writ seriously of\ndialectics, and only transitorily and in sport of the beginning, end,\ngods, and justice, in which you affirm their discourse to be blind and\ncontradictory to itself, and to have a thousand other faults.\n\nIn one place he says, that the vice called [Greek omitted], or the\nrejoicing at other men's harms, has no being; since no good man ever\nrejoiced at another's evils. But in his Second Book of Good, having\ndeclared envy to be a sorrow at other men's good,--to wit, in such as\ndesire the depression of their neighbors that themselves may excel, he\njoins to it this rejoicing at other men's harms, saying thus: \"To this\nis contiguous the rejoicing at other men's harms, in such as for like\ncauses desire to have their neighbors low; but in those that are\nturned according to other natural motions, is engendered mercy.\" For he\nmanifestly admits the joy at other men's harms to be subsistent, as\nwell as envy and mercy; though in other places he affirms it to have no\nsubsistence; as he does also the hatred of wickedness, and the desire of\ndishonest gain.\n\nHaving in many places said, that those who have a long time been happy\nare nothing more so, but equally and in like manner with those who have\nbut a moment been partakers of felicity, he has again in many other\nplaces affirmed, that it is not fit to stretch out so much as a finger\nfor the obtaining momentary prudence, which flies away like a flash of\nlightning. It will be sufficient to set down what is to this purpose\nwritten by him in his Sixth Book of Moral Questions. For having said,\nthat neither does every good thing equally cause joy, nor every good\ndeed the like glorying, he subjoins these words: \"For if a man should\nhave wisdom only for a moment of time or the final minute of life, he\nought not so much as to stretch out his finger for such a shortlived\nprudence.\" And yet men are neither more happy for being longer so, nor\nis eternal felicity more eligible than that which lasts but a moment.\nIf he had indeed held prudence to be a good, producing felicity, as\nEpicurus thought, one should have blamed only the absurdity and the\nparadoxicalness of this opinion; but since prudence of itself is not\nanother thing differing from felicity, but felicity itself, how is\nit not a contradiction to say, that momentary happiness is equally\ndesirable with eternal, and yet that momentary happiness is nothing\nworth?\n\nChrysippus also says, that the virtues follow one another, and that not\nonly he who has one has all, but also that he who acts according to any\none of them acts according to them all; and he affirms, that there is\nnot any man perfect who is not possessed of all the virtues, nor any\naction perfect to the doing of which all the virtues do not concur. But\nyet in his Sixth Book of Moral Questions he says, that a good man\ndoes not always act valiantly, nor a vicious man always fearfully; for\ncertain objects being presented to the fancies, the one must persist in\nhis judgments, and the other depart from them; and he says that it is\nnot probable a wicked man should be always indulging his lust. If then\nto act valiantly is the same thing as to use fortitude; and to act\ntimorously as to yield to fear, they cannot but speak contradictions who\nsay, that he who is possessed of either virtue or vice acts at she\nsame time according to all the virtues or all the vices, and yet that a\nvaliant man does not always act valiantly nor a vicious man timorously.\n\nHe defines Rhetoric to be an art concerning the ornament and the\nordering of a discourse that is pronounced. And farther in his First\nBook he has written thus: \"And I am of opinion not only that a regard\nought to be had to a liberal and simple adorning of words, but also that\ncare is to be taken for proper delivery, as regards the right elevation\nof the voice and the compositions of the countenance and hands.\" Yet\nhe, who is in this place so curious and exact, again in the same book,\nspeaking of the collision of the vowels, says: \"We ought not only to let\nthese things pass, minding somewhat that is better, but also to neglect\ncertain obscurities and defects, nay, solecisms also, of which others,\nand those not a few, would be ashamed.\" Certainly, in one place to allow\nthose who would speak eloquently so carefully to dispose their speech\nas even to observe a decorum in the very composition of their mouth and\nhands, and in another place to forbid the taking care of defects and\ninelegancies, and the being ashamed even of committing solecisms, is\nthe property of a man who little cares what he says, but rashly utters\nwhatever comes first into his mouth.\n\nMoreover, in his Natural Positions having warned us not to trouble\nourselves but to be at quiet about such things as require experience\nand scientific investigation, he says: \"Let us not think after the same\nmanner with Plato, that liquid nourishment is conveyed to the lungs, and\ndry to the stomach; nor let us embrace other errors like to these.\" Now\nit is my opinion, that to reprehend others, and then not to keep one's\nself from falling into those things which one has reprehended, is the\ngreatest of contradictions and shamefullest of errors. But he says, that\nthe connections made by ten axioms amount to above a million in number,\nhaving neither searched diligently into it by himself nor attained to\nthe truth by men experienced in it. Yet Plato had to testify for him the\nmost renowned of the physicians, Hippocrates, Philistion, and Dioxippus\nthe disciple of Hippocrates; and of the poets, Euripides, Aleaeus,\nEupolis, and Eratosthenes, who all say that the drink passes through the\nlungs. But all the arithmeticians refute Chrysippus, amongst whom also\nis Hipparchus, demonstrating that the error of his computation is very\ngreat; since the affirmative makes of the ten axioms one hundred and\nthree thousand forty and nine connections, and the negative three\nhundred and ten thousand nine hundred fifty and two.\n\nSome of the ancients have said, that the same befell Zeno which befalls\nhim who has sour wine which he can sell neither for vinegar nor wine;\nfor his \"things preferable,\" as he called them, cannot be disposed of,\neither as good or as indifferent. But Chrysippus has made the matter yet\nfar more intricate; for he sometimes says, that they are mad who make no\naccount of riches, health, freedom from pain, and integrity of the body,\nnor take any care to attain them; and having cited that sentence of\nHesiod,\n\n     Work hard, O God-born Perses,\n     (\"Works and Days,\" 299.)\n\nhe cries out, that it would be a madness to advise the contrary and say,\n\n     Work not, O God-born Perses.\n\nAnd in his book of Lives he affirms, that a wise man will for the sake\nof gain live with kings, and teach for money, receiving from some of his\nscholars his reward beforehand, and making contract with others of them;\nand in his Seventh Book of Duties he says, that he will not scruple\nto turn his heels thrice over his head, if for so doing he may have a\ntalent. In his First Book of Good Things, he yields and grants to those\nthat desire it to call these preferable things good and their contraries\nevil, in these very words: \"Any one who likes, according to these\npermutations, may call one thing good and another evil, if he has a\nregard to the things themselves, not wandering elsewhere, not failing in\nthe understanding of the thing signified, and in the rest accommodating\nhimself to custom in the denomination.\" Having thus in this place set\nhis things preferable so near to good, and mixed them therewith, he\nagain says, that none of these things belongs at all to us, but that\nreason withdraws and averts us from all such things; for he has written\nthus in his First Book of Exhortations. And in his Third Book of Nature\nhe says, that some esteem those happy who reign and are rich, which is\nall one as if those should be reputed happy who make water in golden\nchamber-pots and wear golden fringes; but to a good man the losing of\nhis whole estate is but as the losing of one groat, and the being sick\nno more than if he had stumbled. Wherefore he has not filled virtue\nonly, but Providence also, with these contradictions. For virtue would\nseem to the utmost degree sordid and foolish, if it should busy itself\nabout such matters, and enjoin a wise man for their sake to sail to\nBosphorus or tumble with his heels over his head. And Jupiter would\nbe very ridiculous to be styled Ctesius, Epicarpius, and Charitodotes,\nbecause forsooth he gives the wicked golden chamber-pots and golden\nfringes, and the good such things as are hardly worth a groat, when\nthrough Jupiter's providence they become rich. And yet much more\nridiculous is Apollo, if he sits to give oracles concerning golden\nfringes and chamber-pots and the recovering of a stumble.\n\nBut they make this repugnancy yet more evident by their demonstration.\nFor they say, that what may be used both well and ill, the same is\nneither good nor bad; but fools make an ill use of riches, health, and\nstrength of body; therefore none of these is good. If therefore God\ngives not virtue to men,--but honesty is eligible of itself,--and yet\nbestows on them riches and health without virtue, he confers them on\nthose who can use them not well but ill, that is hurtfully, shamefully,\nand perniciously. Now, if the gods can bestow virtue and do not, they\nare not good; but if they cannot make men good, neither can they help\nthem, for outside of virtue nothing is good and advantageous. Now\nto judge those who are otherwise made good according to virtue and\nstrength... is nothing to the purpose, for good men also judge the gods\naccording to virtue and strength; so that they do no more aid men than\nthey are aided by them.\n\nNow Chrysippus neither professes himself nor any one of his disciples\nand teachers to be virtuous. What then do they think of others, but\nthose things which they say,--that they are all mad fools, impious,\ntransgressors of laws, and in the most degree of misery and unhappiness?\nAnd yet they say that our affairs, though we act thus miserably, are\ngoverned by the providence of the gods. Now if the gods, changing their\nminds, should desire to hurt, afflict, overthrow, and quite crush us,\nthey could not put us in a worse condition than we already are; as\nChrysippus demonstrates that life can admit only one degree either of\nmisery or of unhappiness; so that if it had a voice, it would pronounce\nthese words of Hercules:\n\n     I am so full of miseries, there is\n     No place to stow them in.\n     (Euripides, \"Hercules Furens,\" 1245.)\n\nNow who can imagine any assertions more repugnant to one another than\nchat of Chrysippus concerning the gods and that concerning men; when he\nsays, that the gods do in the best manner possible provide for men, and\nyet men are in the worst condition imaginable?\n\nSome of the Pythagoreans blame him for having in his book of Justice\nwritten concerning cocks, that they are usefully procreated, because\nthey awaken us from our sleep, hunt out scorpions, and animate us to\nbattle, breeding in us a certain emulation to show courage; and yet that\nwe must eat them, lest the number of chickens should be greater than\nwere expedient. But he so derides those who blame him for this, that he\nhas written thus concerning Jupiter the Saviour and Creator, the father\nof justice, equity, and peace, in his Third Book of the Gods: \"As cities\novercharged with too great a number of citizens send forth colonies into\nother places and make war upon some, so does God give the beginnings of\ncorruption.\" And he brings in Euripides for a witness, with others who\nsay that the Trojan war was caused by the gods, to exhaust the multitude\nof men.\n\nBut letting pass their other absurdities (for our design is not\nto inquire what they have said amiss, but only what they have said\ndissonantly to themselves), consider how he always attributes to\nthe gods specious and kind appellations, but at the same time cruel,\nbarbarous, and Galatian deeds. For those so great slaughters and\nearnages, as were the productions of the Trojan war and again of the\nPersian and Peloponnesian, were no way like to colonies unless these men\nknow of some cities built in hell and under the earth. But Chrysippus\nmakes God like to Deiotarus, the Galatian king, who having many sons,\nand being desirous to leave his kingdom and house to one of them, killed\nall the rest; as he that cuts and prunes away all the other branches\nfrom the vine, that one which he leaves remaining may grow strong and\ngreat. And yet the vine-dresser does this, the sprigs being slender\nand weak; and we, to favor a bitch, take from her many of her new-born\npuppies, whilst they are yet blind. But Jupiter, having not only\nsuffered and seen men to grow up, but having also both created and\nincreased them, plagues them afterwards, devising occasions of their\ndestruction and corruption; whereas he should rather not have given them\nany causes and beginnings of generation.\n\nHowever, this is but a small matter; but that which follows is greater.\nFor there is no war amongst men without vice. But sometimes the love of\npleasure, sometimes the love of money, and sometimes the love of glory\nand rule is the cause of it. If therefore God is the author of wars, he\nmust be also of sins, provoking and perverting men. And yet himself says\nin his treatise of Judgment and his Second Book of the Gods, that it is\nno way rational to say that the Divinity is in any respect the cause of\ndishonesty. For as the law can in no way be the cause of transgression,\nso neither can the gods of being impious; therefore neither is it\nrational that they should be the causes of anything that is filthy.\nWhat therefore can be more filthy to men than the mutual killing of one\nanother?--to which Chrysippus says that God gives beginnings. But some\none perhaps will say, that he elsewhere praises Euripides for saying,\n\n     If gods do aught dishonest, they're no gods;\n\nand again,\n\n     'Tis a most easy thing t' accuse the gods;\n     (From the \"Bellerophontes\" of Euripides, Frag. 294;\n     and the \"Archelaus,\" Frag. 256.)\n\nas if we were now doing anything else than setting down such words and\nsentences of his as are repugnant to one another. Yet that very thing\nwhich is now praised may be objected, not once or twice or thrice, but\neven ten thousand times, against Chrysippus:--\n\n     'Tis a most easy thing t' accuse the gods.\n\nFor first having in his book of Nature compared the eternity of motion\nto a drink made of divers species confusedly mixed together, turning and\njumbling the things that are made, some this way, others that way, he\ngoes on thus: \"Now the administration of the universe proceeding in this\nmanner, it is of necessity we should be in the condition we are, whether\ncontrary to our own nature we are sick or maimed, or whether we are\ngrammarians or musicians.\" And again a little after, \"According to this\nreason we shall say the like of our virtue and vice, and generally of\narts or the ignorance of arts, as I have said.\" And a little after,\ntaking away all ambiguity, he says: \"For no particular thing, not even\nthe least, can be otherwise than according to common Nature and its\nreason.\" But that common Nature and the common reason of Nature are\nwith him Fate and Providence and Jupiter, is not unknown even to the\nantipodes. For these things are everywhere inculcated in the Stoic\nsystem; and Chrysippus affirms that Homer said very well,\n\n     Jove's purposes were ripening,\n     (\"Iliad,\" i. 5.)\n\nhaving respect to Fate and the Nature of the universe, according to\nwhich everything is governed. How then do these agree, both that God is\nno way the cause of any dishonest thing, and again, that not even the\nleast thing imaginable can be otherwise done than according to common\nNature and its reason? For amongst all things that are done, there must\nof necessity be also evil things attributed to the gods. And though\nEpicurus indeed turns himself every way, and studies artifices, devising\nhow to deliver and set loose our voluntary free will from this eternal\nmotion, that he may not leave vice irreprehensible; yet Chrysippus gives\nvice a most absolute liberty, as being done not only of necessity or\naccording to Fate, but also according to the reason of God and\nbest Nature. And these things are yet farther seen in what he says\nafterwards, being thus word for word: \"For common Nature extending to\nall things, it will be of necessity that everything, howsoever done in\nthe whole or in any one soever of its parts, must be done according to\nthis common Nature and its reason, proceeding on regularly without\nany impediment. For there is nothing without that can hinder the\nadministration, nor is there any of the parts that can be moved or\nhabituated otherwise than according to common Nature.\" What, then, are\nthese habits and motions of the parts? It is manifest, that the habits\nare vices and diseases, covetousness, luxury, ambition, cowardice,\ninjustice; and that the motions are adulteries, thefts, treasons,\nmurders, parricides. Of these Chrysippus thinks, that no one, either\nlittle or great, is contrary to the reason of Jupiter, or to his law,\njustice, and providence; so neither is the transgressing of the law\ndone against the law, nor the acting unjustly against justice, nor the\ncommitting of sin against Providence.\n\nAnd yet he says, that God punishes vice, and does many things for the\nchastising of the wicked. And in his Second Book of the Gods he says,\nthat many adversities sometimes befall the good, not as they do the\nwicked, for punishment, but according to another dispensation, as it\nis in cities. And again in these words: \"First we are to understand of\nevils in like manner as has been said before: then that these things are\ndistributed according to the reason of Jupiter, whether for punishment,\nor according to some other dispensation, having in some sort respect to\nthe universe.\" This therefore is indeed severe, that wickedness is both\ndone and punished according to the reason of Jupiter. But he aggravates\nthis contradiction in his Second Book of Nature, writing thus: \"Vice in\nreference to grievous accidents, has a certain reason of its own. For it\nis also in some sort according to the reason of Nature, and, as I may\nso say, is not wholly useless in respect of the universe. For otherwise\nalso there would not be any good.\" Thus does he reprehend those that\ndispute indifferently on both sides, who, out of a desire to say\nsomething wholly singular and more exquisite concerning everything,\naffirms, that men do not unprofitably cut purses, calumniate, and play\nmadmen, and that it is not unprofitable there should be unprofitable,\nhurtful, and unhappy persons. What manner of god then is Jupiter,--I\nmean Chrysippus's Jupiter,--who punishes an act done neither willingly\nnor unprofitably? For vice is indeed, according to Chrysippus's\ndiscourse, wholly reprehensible; but Jupiter is to be blamed, whether\nhe has made vice which is an unprofitable thing, or, having made it not\nunprofitable, punishes it.\n\nAgain, in his First Book of Justice, having spoken of the gods as\nresisting the injustices of some, he says: \"But wholly to take away\nvice is neither possible nor expedient.\" Whether it were not better\nthat law-breaking, injustice, and folly should be taken away, is not the\ndesign of this present discourse to inquire. But he himself, as much\nas in him lies, by his philosophy taking away vice, which it is not\nexpedient to take away, does something repugnant both to reason and God.\nBesides this, saying that God resists some injustices, he again makes\nplain the impiety of sins.\n\nHaving often written that there is nothing reprehensible, nothing to\nbe complained of in the world, all things being finished according to a\nmost excellent nature, he again elsewhere leaves certain negligences\nto be reprehended, and those not concerning small or base matters. For\nhaving in his Third Book of Substance related that some such things\nbefall honest and good men, he says: \"May it not be that some things are\nnot regarded, as in great families some bran--yea, and some grains\nof corn also--are scattered, the generality being nevertheless well\nordered; or maybe there are evil Genii set over those things in which\nthere are real and faulty negligence?\" And he also affirms that there\nis much necessity intermixed. I let pass, how inconsiderate it is\nto compare such accidents befalling honest and good men, as were the\ncondemnation of Socrates, the burning of Pythagoras, whilst he was\nyet living, by the Cyloneans, the putting to death--and that with\ntorture--of Zeno by the tyrant Demylus, and of Antiphon by Dionysius,\nwith the letting of bran fall. But that there should be evil Genii\nplaced by Providence over such charges,--how can it but be a reproach\nto God, as it would be to a king, to commit the administration of his\nprovinces to evil and rash governors and captains, and suffer the best\nof his subjects to be despised and ill-treated by them? And furthermore,\nif there is much necessity mixed amongst affairs, then God has not power\nover them all, nor are they all administered according to his reason.\n\nHe contends much against Epicurus and those that take away providence\nfrom the conceptions we have of the gods, whom we esteem beneficial and\ngracious to men. And these things being frequently said by them, there\nis no necessity of setting down the words. Yet all do not conceive the\ngods to be good and favorable to us. For see what the Jews and Syrians\nthink of the gods; consider also with how much superstition the poets\nare filled. But there is not any one, in a manner to speak of, that\nimagines God to be corruptible or to have been born. And to omit all\nothers, Antipater the Tarsian, in his book of the gods writes thus, word\nfor word: \"At the opening of our discourse we will briefly repeat the\nopinion we have concerning God. We understand therefore God to be an\nanimal, blessed and incorruptible, and beneficial to men.\" And then\nexpounding every one of these terms he says: \"And indeed all men esteem\nthe gods to be incorruptible.\" Chrysippus therefore is, according to\nAntipater, not one of \"all men\"; for he thinks none of the gods, except\nFire, to be incorruptible, but that they all equally were born and will\ndie. These things are, in a manner, everywhere said by him. But I will\nset down his words out of his Third Book of the Gods: \"It is otherwise\nwith the gods. For some of them are born and corruptible, but others not\nborn. And to demonstrate these things from the beginning will be more\nfit for a treatise of Nature. For the Sun, the Moon, and other gods who\nare of a like nature, were begotten; but Jupiter is eternal.\" And again\ngoing on: \"But the like will be said concerning dying and being\nborn, both concerning the other gods and Jupiter. For they indeed are\ncorruptible, but his past incorruptible.\" With these I compare a few of\nthe things said by Antipater: \"Whosoever they are that take away from\nthe gods beneficence, they affect in some part our conception of them;\nand according to the same reason they also do this, who think they\nparticipate of generation and corruption.\" If, then, he who esteems the\ngods corruptible is equally absurd with him who thinks them not to be\nprovident and gracious to men, Chrysippus is no less in an error than\nEpicurus. For one of them deprives the gods of beneficence, the other\nof incorruptibility. ============ And moreover, Chrysippus, in his Third\nBook of the Gods treating of the other gods being nourished, says thus:\n\"The other gods indeed use nourishment, being equally sustained by it;\nbut Jupiter and the World are maintained after another manner from those\nwho are consumed and were engendered by fire.\" Here indeed he declares,\nthat all the other gods are nourished except the World and Jupiter; but\nin his First Book of Providence he says: \"Jupiter increases till he has\nconsumed all things into himself. For since death is the separation\nof the soul from the body, and the soul of the World is not indeed\nseparated, but increases continually till it has consumed all matter\ninto itself, it is not to be said that the World dies.\" Who can\ntherefore appear to speak things more contradictory to himself than he\nwho says that the same god is now nourished and again not nourished? Nor\nis there any need of gathering this by argument: for himself has\nplainly written in the same place: \"But the World alone is said to be\nself-sufficient, because it alone has in itself all things it stands in\nneed of, and is nourished and augmented of itself, the other parts being\nmutually changed into one another.\" He is then repugnant to himself, not\nonly by declaring in one place that all the gods are nourished except\nthe World and Jupiter, and saying in another, that the World also is\nnourished; but much more, when he affirms that the World increases by\nnourishing itself. Now the contrary had been much more probable, to wit,\nthat the World alone does not increase, having its own destruction for\nits food; but that addition and increase are incident to the other gods,\nwho are nourished from without, and the World is rather consumed into\nthem, if so it is that the World feeds on itself, and they always\nreceive something and are nourished from that.\n\nSecondly, the conception of the gods contains in it felicity,\nblessedness, and self-perfection. Wherefore also Euripides is commanded\nfor saying:--\n\n     For God, if truly God, does nothing want,\n     So all these speeches are the poets' cant.\n     (\"Hercules Furens,\" 1345.)\n\nBut Chrysippus in the places I have alleged says, that the World only is\nself-sufficient, because this alone has in itself all things it needs.\nWhat then follows from this, that the World alone is self-sufficient?\nThat neither the Sun, Moon, nor any other of the gods is\nself-sufficient, and not being self-sufficient, they cannot be happy or\nblessed.\n\nHe says, that the infant in the womb is nourished by Nature, like a\nplant; but when it is brought forth, being cooled and hardened by the\nair, it changes its spirit and becomes an animal; whence the soul is not\nunfitly named Psyche because of this refrigeration [Greek omitted]. But\nagain he esteems the soul the more subtile and fine spirit of Nature,\ntherein contradicting himself; for how can a subtile thing be made of a\ngross one, and be rarefied by refrigeration and condensation? And what\nis more, how does he, declaring an animal to be made by refrigeration,\nthink the sun to be animated, which is of fire and made of an exhalation\nchanged into fire? For he says in his Third Book of Nature: \"Now the\nchange of fire is such, that it is turned by the air into water; and the\nearth subsiding from this, the air exhales; the air being subtilized,\nthe ether is produced round about it; and the stars are, with the\nsun, kindled from the sea.\" Now what is more contrary to kindling than\nrefrigeration, or to rarefaction than condensation? For the one makes\nwater and earth of fire and air, and the other changes that which\nis moist and earthy into fire and air. But yet in one place he makes\nkindling, in another cooling, to be the beginning of animation. And he\nmoreover says, that when the inflammation is throughout, it lives and\nis an animal, but being again extinct and thickened, it is turned into\nwater and earth and corporeity. Now in his First Book of Providence he\nsays: \"For the world, indeed, being wholly set on fire, is presently\nalso the soul and guide of itself; but when it is changed into moisture,\nand has altered the soul remaining within it by some method into a body\nand soul, so as to consist of these two it exists then after another\nmanner.\" Here, forsooth, he plainly says, that the inanimate parts of\nthe world are by inflammation turned into an animated thing, and that\nagain by extinction the soul is relaxed and moistened, being changed\ninto corporeity. He seems therefore very absurd, one while by\nrefrigeration making animals of senseless things, and again, by the\nsame changing the greatest part of the world's soul into senseless and\ninanimate things.\n\nBut besides this, his discourse concerning the generation of the soul\nhas a demonstration contrary to his own opinion; or he says, that the\nsoul is generated when the infant is already brought forth, the spirit\nbeing changed by refrigeration, as by hardening. Now for the soul's\nbeing engendered, and that after the birth, he chiefly uses this\ndemonstration, that the children are for the most part in manners and\ninclinations like to their parents. Now the repugnancy of these things\nis evident. For it is not possible that the soul, which is not generated\ntill after the birth, should have its inclination before the birth; or\nit will fall out that the soul is like before it is generated; that is,\nit will be in likeness, and yet not be, because it is not yet generated.\nBut if any one says that, the likeness being bred in the tempers of the\nbodies, the souls are changed when they are generated, he destroys the\nargument of the soul's being generated. For thus it may come to pass,\nthat the soul, though not generated, may at its entrance into the body\nbe changed by the mixture of likeness.\n\nHe says sometimes, that the air is light and mounts upwards, and\nsometimes, that it is neither heavy nor light. For in his Second Book of\nMotion he says, that the fire, being without gravity, ascends upwards,\nand the air like to that; the water approaching more to the earth, and\nthe air to the fire. But in his Physical Arts he inclines to the other\nopinion, that the air of itself has neither gravity nor levity.\n\nHe says that the air is by nature dark, and uses this as an argument of\nits being also the first cold; for that its darkness is opposite to the\nbrightness, and its coldness to the heat of fire. Moving this in his\nFirst Book of Natural Questions, he again in his treatise of Habits\nsays, that habits are nothing else but airs; for bodies are contained by\nthese, and the cause that every one of the bodies contained in any\nhabit is such as it is, is the containing air, which they call in iron\nhardness, in stone solidness, in silver whiteness. These words have in\nthem much absurdity and contradiction. For if the air remains such as it\nis of its own nature, how comes black, in that which is not white, to\nbe made whiteness; and soft, in that which is not hard, to be made\nhardness; and rare, in that which is not thick, to be made thickness?\nBut if, being mixed with these, it is altered and made like to them, how\nis it a habit or power or cause of these things by which it is subdued?\nFor such a change, by which it loses its own qualities, is the property\nof a patient, not of an agent, and not of a thing containing, but of a\nthing languishing. Yet they everywhere affirm, that matter, being of its\nown nature idle and motionless, is subjected to qualities, and that the\nqualities are spirits, which, being also aerial tensions, give a form\nand figure to every part of matter to which they adhere. These things\nthey cannot rationally say, supposing the air to be such as they affirm\nit. For if it is a habit and tension, it will assimilate every body to\nitself, so that it shall be black and soft. But if by the mixture with\nthese things it receives forms contrary to those it has, it will be in\nsome sort the matter, and not the cause or power of matter.\n\nIt is often said by Chrysippus, that there is without the world an\ninfinite vacuum, and that this infinity has neither beginning, middle,\nnor end. And by this the Stoics chiefly refute that spontaneous motion\nof the atoms downward, which is taught by Epicurus; there not being in\ninfinity any difference according to which one thing is thought to be\nabove, another below. But in his Fourth Book of Things Possible, having\nsupposed a certain middle place and middle region, he says that the\nworld is situated there. The words are these: \"Wherefore, if it is to be\nsaid of the world that it is corruptible, this seems to want proof; yet\nnevertheless it rather appears to me to be so. However, its occupation\nof the place wherein it stands cooperates very much towards its immunity\nfrom corruption, because it is in the midst; since if it were conceived\nto be anywhere else, corruption would absolutely happen to it.\" And\nagain, a little after: \"For so also in a manner has essence happened\neternally to possess the middle place, being immediately from the\nbeginning such as it is; so that both by another manner and through this\nchance it admits not any corruption, and is therefore eternal.\" These\nwords have one apparent and visible contradiction, to wit, his admitting\na certain middle place and middle region infinity. They have also a\nsecond, more obscure indeed, but withal more absurd than this. For\nthinking that the world would not have remained incorruptible if its\nsituation had happened to have been in any other part of the vacuum,\nhe manifestly appears to have feared lest, the parts of essence moving\ntowards the middle, there should be a dissolution and corruption of the\nworld. Now this he would not have feared, had he not thought that bodies\ndo by nature tend from every place towards the middle, not of essence,\nbut of the region containing essence; of which also he has frequently\nspoken, as of a thing impossible and contrary to Nature; for that (as\nhe says) there is not in the vacuum any difference by which bodies are\ndrawn rather this way than that way, but the construction of the world\nis the cause of motion, bodies inclining and being carried from every\nside to the centre and middle of it. It is sufficient to this purpose,\nto set down the text out of his Second Book of Motion; for having\ndiscoursed, that the world indeed is a perfect body, but that the parts\nof the world are not perfect, because they have in some sort respect to\nthe whole and are not of themselves; and going forward concerning its\nmotion, as having been framed by Nature to be moved by all its parts\ntowards compaction and cohesion, and not towards dissolution and\nbreaking, he says thus: \"But the universe thus tending and being moved\nto the same point, and the arts having the same motion from the nature\nof the body, it is probable that all bodies have this first motion\naccording to Nature towards the centre of the world,--the world being\nthus moved as concerns itself, and the parts being moved as being its\nparts.\" What, then, ailed you, good sir (might some one say to him),\nthat you have so far forgotten those words, as to affirm that the world,\nif it had not casually possessed the middle place, would have been\ndissoluble and corruptible? For if it is by nature so framed as always\nto incline towards the middle, and its parts from every side tend to\nthe same, into what place soever of the vacuum it should have been\ntransposed,--thus containing and (as it were) embracing itself,--it\nwould have remained incorruptible and without danger of breaking. For\nthings that are broken and dissipated suffer this by the separation and\ndissolution of their parts, every one of them hasting to its own place\nfrom that which it had contrary to Nature. But you, being of opinion\nthat, if the world should have been seated in any other place of the\nvacuum, it would have been wholly liable to corruption, and affirming\nthe same, and therefore asserting a middle in that which naturally\ncan have no middle,--to wit, in that which is infinite,--have indeed\ndismissed these tensions, coherences, and inclinations, as having\nnothing available to its preservation, and attributed all the cause of\nits permanency to the possession of place. And, as if you were ambitious\nto confute yourself, to the things you have said before you join this\nalso: \"In whatsoever manner every one of the parts moves, being coherent\nto the rest, it is agreeable to reason that in the same also the whole\nshould move by itself; yea, though we should, for argument's sake,\nimagine and suppose it to be in some vacuity of this world; for as,\nbeing kept in on every side, it would move towards the middle, so it\nwould continue in the same motion, though by way of disputation we\nshould admit that there were on a sudden a vacuum round about it.\"\nNo part then whatsoever, though encompassed by a vacuum, loses its\ninclination moving it towards the middle of the world; but the world\nitself, if chance had not prepared it a place in the middle, would have\nlost its containing vigor, the parts of its essence being carried some\none way, some another.\n\nAnd these things indeed contain great contradictions to natural\nreason; but this is also repugnant to the doctrine concerning God and\nProvidence, that assigning to them the least causes, he takes from them\nthe most principal and greatest. For what is more principal than the\npermanency of the world, or that its essence, united in its parts, is\ncontained in itself? But this, as Chrysippus says, fell out casually.\nFor if the possession of place is the cause of incorruptibility, and\nthis was the production of chance, it is manifest that the preservation\nof the universe is a work of chance, and not of Fate and Providence.\n\nNow, as for his doctrine of possibles, how can it but be repugnant to\nhis doctrine of Fate? For if that is not possible which either is true\nor shall be true, as Diodorus has it, but everything which is capable of\nbeing, though it never shall be, is possible, there will be many things\npossible which will never be according to invincible, inviolable, and\nall-conquering Fate. And thus either Fate will lose its power; or if\nthat, as Chrysippus thinks, has existence, that which is susceptible of\nbeing will often fall out to be impossible. And everything indeed which\nis true will be necessary, being comprehended by the principal of all\nnecessities; and everything that is false will be impossible, having\nthe greatest cause to oppose its ever being true. For how is it possible\nthat he should be susceptible of dying on the land, who is destined to\ndie at sea? And how is it possible for him who is at Megara to come to\nAthens, if he is prohibited by Fate?\n\nBut moreover, the things that are boldly asserted by him concerning\nfantasies or imaginations are very opposite to Fate. For desiring to\nshow that fantasy is not of itself a perfect cause of consent, he says,\nthat the Sages will prejudice us by imprinting false imaginations in our\nminds, if fantasies do of themselves absolutely cause consent; for\nwise men often make use of falsity against the wicked, representing a\nprobable imagination,--which is yet not the cause of consent, for\nthen it would be also a cause of false apprehension and error. Any one\ntherefore, transferring these things from the wise man to Fate, may say,\nthat consents are not caused by Fate; for if they were, false consents\nand opinions and deceptions would also be by Fate. Thus the reason which\nexempts the wise man from doing hurt also demonstrates at the same time\nthat Fate is not the cause of all things. For if men neither opine\nnor are prejudiced by Fate, it is manifest also that they neither\nact rightly nor are wise nor remain firm in their sentiments nor have\nutility by Fate, but that there is an end of Fate's being the cause of\nall things. Now if any one shall say that Chrysippus makes not Fate the\nabsolute cause of all things, but only a PROCATARCLICAL (or antecedent)\none, he will again show that he is contradictory to himself, since he\nexcessively praises Homer for saying of Jupiter,\n\n     Receive whatever good or ill\n     He sends to each of you;\n\nas also Euripides for these words,\n\n     O Jove, how can I say that wretched we,\n     Poor mortals, aught do understand?  On thee\n     We all depend, and nothing can transact,\n     But as thy sacred wisdom shall enact.\n     (Euripides, \"Suppliants,\" 734.)\n\nAnd himself writes many things agreeable to these. In fine, he says that\nnothing, be it never so little, either rests or is moved otherwise than\naccording to the reason of Jupiter, which is the same thing with Fate.\nMoreover, the antecedent cause is weaker than the absolute one, and\nattains not to its effect when it is subdued by others that rise\nup against it. But he himself declaring Fate to be an invincible,\nunimpeachable, and inflexible cause, calls it Atropos, (That is,\nUnchangeable.) Adrasteia, (That is, Unavoidable.) Necessity, and\nPepromene (as putting a limit to all things). Whether then shall we say,\nthat neither consents nor virtues nor vices nor doing well nor doing\nill is in our power? Or shall we affirm, that Fate is deficient, that\nterminating destiny is unable to determine, and that the motions\nand habits of Jupiter cannot be effective? For the one of these two\nconsequences will follow from Fate's being an absolute, the other from\nits being only an antecedent cause. For if it is an absolute cause, it\ntakes away our free will and leaves nothing in our control; and if it is\nonly antecedent, it loses its being unimpeachable and effectual. For\nnot once or ten times, but everywhere, especially in his Physics, he\nhas written, that there are many obstacles and impediments to particular\nnatures and motions, but none to that of the universe. And how can the\nmotion of the universe, extending as it does to particular ones, be\nundisturbed and unimpeached, if these are stopped and hindered? For\nneither can the nature of man be free from impediment, if that of the\nfoot or hand is not so; nor can the motion of a ship but be hindered, if\nthere are any obstacles about the sails or the operation of the oars.\n\nBesides all this, if the fantasies are not according to Fate, neither\nare they causes of consents; but if, because it imprints fantasies\nleading to consent, the consents are said to be according to Fate,\nhow is it not contrary to itself, imprinting in the greatest matters\ndifferent imaginations and such as draw the understanding contrary ways?\nFor (they say) those who adhere to one of them, and withhold not their\nconsent, do amiss: if they yield to obscure things, they stumble; if to\nfalse, they are deceived; if to such as are not commonly comprehended,\nthey opine. And yet one of these three is of necessity,--either that\nevery fantasy is not the work of Fate, or that every receipt and consent\nof fantasy is faultless, or that Fate itself is not irreprehensible. For\nI do not know how it can be blameless, proposing to us such fantasies\nthat not the resisting or going against them, but the following and\nyielding to them, is blamable. Moreover, both Chrysippus and Antipater,\nin their disputes against the Academics, take not a little pains to\nprove that we neither act nor are incited without consent, saying, that\nthey build on fictions and false suppositions who think that, a proper\nfantasy being presented, we are presently incited, without having either\nyielded or consented. Again, Chrysippus says, that God imprints in us\nfalse imaginations, as does also the wise man; not that they would have\nus consent or yield to them, but only that we should act and be incited\nwith regard to that which appears; but we, being evil, do through\ninfirmity consent to such fantasies. Now, the perplexity and discrepancy\nof these discourses among themselves are not very difficult to be\ndiscerned. For he that would not have men consent but only act according\nto the fantasies which he offers unto them--whether he be God or a\nwise man--knows that the fantasies are sufficient for acting, and that\nconsents are superfluous. For if, knowing that the imagination gives us\nnot an instinct to work without consent, he ministers to us false and\nprobable fantasies, he is the voluntary cause of our falling and erring\nby assenting to incomprehensible things.\n\n\nEND OF SEVEN-----------\n\n\n\n\nTHE EATING OF FLESH.\n\nTRACT I. You ask of me then for what reason it was that Pythagoras\nabstained from eating of flesh. I for my part do much wonder in what\nhumor, with what soul or reason, the first man with his mouth touched\nslaughter, and reached to his lips the flesh of a dead animal, and\nhaving set before people courses of ghastly corpses and ghosts, could\ngive those parts the names of meat and victuals, that but a little\nbefore lowed, cried, moved, and saw; how his sight could endure the\nblood of slaughtered, flayed, and mangled bodies; how his smell could\nbear their scent; and how the very nastiness happened not to offend the\ntaste, while it chewed the sores of others, and participated of the saps\nand juices of deadly wounds.\n\n     Crept the raw hides, and with a bellowing sound\n     Roared the dead limbs; the burning entrails groaned.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xii. 395.)\n\nThis indeed is but a fiction and fancy; but the fare itself is truly\nmonstrous and prodigious,--that a man should have a stomach to creatures\nwhile they yet bellow, and that he should be giving directions which of\nthings yet alive and speaking is fittest to make food of, and ordering\nthe several kinds of the seasoning and dressing them and serving them up\nto tables. You ought rather, in my opinion, to have inquired who first\nbegan this practice, than who of late times left it off.\n\nAnd truly, as for those people who first ventured upon eating of flesh,\nit is very probable that the whole reason of their so doing was scarcity\nand want of other food; for it is not likely that their living together\nin lawless and extravagant lusts, or their growing wanton and capricious\nthrough the excessive variety of provisions then among them, brought\nthem to such unsociable pleasures as these, against Nature. Yea, had\nthey at this instant but their sense and voice restored to them, I am\npersuaded they would express themselves to this purpose:\n\n\"Oh! happy you, and highly favored of the gods, who now live! Into what\nan age of the world are you fallen, who share and enjoy among you a\nplentiful portion of good things! What abundance of things spring up for\nyour use! What fruitful vineyards you enjoy! What wealth you gather from\nthe fields! What delicacies from trees and plants, which you may gather!\nYou may glut and fill yourselves without being polluted. As for us, we\nfell upon the most dismal and affrighting part of time, in which we\nwere exposed by our production to manifold and inextricable wants and\nnecessities. As yet the thickened air concealed the heaven from our\nview, and the stars were as yet confused with a disorderly huddle of\nfire and moisture and violent fluxions of winds. As yet the sun was not\nfixed to a regular and certain course, so as to separate morning and\nevening, nor did the seasons return in order crowned with wreaths from\nthe fruitful harvest. The land was also spoiled by the inundations of\ndisorderly rivers; and a great part of it was deformed with marshes, and\nutterly wild by reason of deep quagmires, unfertile forests, and woods.\nThere was then no production of tame fruits, nor any instruments of art\nor invention of wit. And hunger gave no time, nor did seed-time then\nstay for the yearly season. What wonder is it if we made use of the\nflesh of beasts contrary to Nature, when mud was eaten and the bark of\nwood, and when it was thought a happy thing to find either a sprouting\ngrass or a root of any plant! But when they had by chance tasted of\nor eaten an acorn, they danced for very joy about some oak or esculus,\ncalling it by the names of life-giver, mother, and nourisher. And this\nwas the only festival that those times were acquainted with; upon all\nother occasions, all things were full of anguish and dismal sadness. But\nwhence is it that a certain ravenousness and frenzy drives you in these\nhappy days to pollute yourselves with blood, since you have such an\nabundance of things necessary for your subsistence? Why do you belie the\nearth as unable to maintain you? Why do you profane the lawgiver Ceres,\nand shame the mild and gentle Bacchus, as not furnishing you with\nsufficiency? Are you not ashamed to mix tame fruits with blood and\nslaughter? You are indeed wont to call serpents, leopards, and lions\nsavage creatures; but yet yourselves are defiled with blood, and\ncome nothing behind them in cruelty. What they kill is their ordinary\nnourishment, but what you kill is your better fare.\"\n\nFor we eat not lions and wolves by way of revenge; but we let those go,\nand catch the harmless and tame sort, and such as have neither stings\nnor teeth to bite with, and slay them; which, so may Jove help us,\nNature seems to us to have produced for their beauty and comeliness\nonly. [Just as if one seeing the river Nilus overflowing its banks,\nand thereby filling the whole country with genial and fertile moisture,\nshould not at all admire that secret power in it that produces plants\nand plenteousness of most sweet and useful fruits, but beholding\nsomewhere a crocodile swimming in it, or an asp crawling along, or mice\n(savage and filthy creatures), should presently affirm these to be the\noccasion of all that is amiss, or of any want or defect that may happen.\nOr as if indeed one contemplating this land or ground, how full it is\nof tame fruits, and how heavy with ears of corn, should afterwards espy\nsomewhere in these same cornfields an ear of darnel or a wild vetch, and\nthereupon neglect to reap and gather in the corn, and fall a complaining\nof these. Such another thing it would be, if one--listening to the\nharangue of some advocate at some bar or pleading, swelling and\nenlarging and hastening towards the relief of some impending danger, or\nelse, by Jupiter, in the impeaching and charging of certain audacious\nvillanies or indictments, flowing and rolling along, and that not in a\nsimple and poor strain, but with many sorts of passions all at once, or\nrather indeed with all sorts, in one and the same manner, into the many\nand various and differing minds of either hearers or judges that he is\neither to turn and change, or else, by Jupiter, to soften, appease, and\nquiet--should overlook all this business, and never consider or reckon\nupon the labor or struggle he had undergone, but pick up certain loose\nexpressions, which the rapid motion of the discourse had carried along\nwith it, as by the current of its course, and so had slipped and escaped\nthe rest of the oration, and, hereupon undervalue the orator.]\n\nBut we are nothing put out of countenance, either by the beauteous\ngayety of the colors, or by the charmingness of the musical voices,\nor by the rare sagacity of the intellects, or by the cleanliness and\nneatness of diet, or by the rare discretion and prudence of these poor\nunfortunate animals; but for the sake of some little mouthful of flesh,\nwe deprive a soul of the sun and light, and of that proportion of life\nand time it had been born into the world to enjoy. And then we fancy\nthat the voices it utters and screams forth to us are nothing else\nbut certain inarticulate sounds and noises, and not the several\ndeprecations, entreaties, and pleadings of each of them, as it were\nsaying thus to us: \"I deprecate not thy necessity (if such there be),\nbut thy wantonness. Kill me for thy feeding, but do not take me off for\nthy better feeding.\" O horrible cruelty! It is truly an affecting sight\nto see the very table of rich people laid before them, who keep them\ncooks and caterers to furnish them with dead corpses for their daily\nfare; but it is yet more affecting to see it taken away, for the\nmammocks remaining are more than that which was eaten. These therefore\nwere slain to no purpose. Others there are, who are so offended by what\nis set before them that they will not suffer it to be cut or sliced;\nthus abstaining from them when dead, while they would not spare them\nwhen alive.\n\nWell, then, we understand that that sort of men are used to say, that\nin eating of flesh they follow the conduct and direction of Nature.\nBut that it is not natural to mankind to feed on flesh, we first of all\ndemonstrate from the very shape and figure of the body. For a human\nbody no ways resembles those that were born for ravenousness; it hath no\nhawk's bill, no sharp talon, no roughness of teeth, no such strength of\nstomach or heat of digestion, as can be sufficient to convert or alter\nsuch heavy and fleshy fare. But even from hence, that is, from the\nsmoothness of the tongue, and the slowness of the stomach to digest,\nNature seems to disclaim all pretence to fleshy victuals. But if you\nwill contend that yourself was born to an inclination to such food as\nyou have now a mind to eat, do you then yourself kill what you would\neat. But do it yourself, without the help of a chopping-knife, mallet,\nor axe,--as wolves, bears, and lions do, who kill and eat at once. Rend\nan ox with thy teeth, worry a hog with thy mouth, tear a lamb or a hare\nin pieces, and fall on and eat it alive as they do. But if thou hadst\nrather stay until what thou greatest is become dead, and if thou art\nloath to force a soul out of its body, why then dost thou against Nature\neat an animate thing? Nay, there is nobody that is willing to eat even a\nlifeless and a dead thing as it is; but they boil it, and roast it, and\nalter it by fire and medicines, as it were, changing and quenching the\nslaughtered gore with thousands of sweet sauces, that the palate being\nthereby deceived may admit of such uncouth fare. It was indeed a witty\nexpression of a Lacedaemonian, who, having purchased a small fish in\na certain inn, delivered it to his landlord to be dressed; and as he\ndemanded cheese, and vinegar, and oil to make sauce, he replied, if I\nhad had those, I would not have bought the fish. But we are grown so\nwanton in our bloody luxury, that we have bestowed upon flesh the name\nof meat [Greek omitted], and then require another seasoning [Greek\nomitted], to this same flesh, mixing oil, wine, honey, pickle, and\nvinegar, with Syrian and Arabian spices, as though we really meant to\nembalm it after its disease. Indeed when things are dissolved and\nmade thus tender and soft, and are as it were turned into a sort of a\ncarrionly corruption, it must needs be a great difficulty for concoction\nto master them, and when it hath mastered them, they must needs cause\ngrievous oppressions and qualmy indigestions.\n\nDiogenes ventured once to eat a raw pourcontrel, that he might disuse\nhimself from meat dressed by fire; and as several priests and other\npeople stood round him, he wrapped his head in his cassock, and so\nputting the fish to his mouth, he thus said unto them: It is for your\nsake, sirs, that I undergo this danger, and run this risk. A noble and\ngallant risk, by Jupiter! For far otherwise than as Pelopidas ventured\nhis life for the liberty of the Thebans, and Harmodius and Aristogiton\nfor that of the Athenians, did this philosopher encounter with a raw\npourcontrel, to the end he might make human life more brutish. Moreover,\nthese same flesh-eatings not only are preternatural to men's bodies,\nbut also by clogging and cloying them, they render their very minds\nand intellects gross. For it is well known to most, that wine and much\nflesh-eating make the body indeed strong and lusty, but the mind weak\nand feeble. And that I may not offend the wrestlers, I will make use\nof examples out of my own country. The Athenians are wont to call us\nBoeotians gross, senseless, and stupid fellows, for no other reason but\nour over-much eating; by Pindar we are called hogs, for the same reason.\nMenander the comedian calls us \"fellows with long jaws.\" It is observed\nalso that, according to the saying of Heraclitus, \"the wisest soul is\nlike a dry light.\" Earthen jars, if you strike them, will sound; but if\nthey be full, they perceive not the strokes that are given them. Copper\nvessels also that are thin communicate the sound round about them,\nunless some one stop and dull the ambient stroke with his fingers.\nMoreover, the eye, when seized with an over-great plenitude of humors,\ngrows dim and feeble for its ordinary work. When we behold the sun\nthrough a humid air and a great quantity of gross and indigested\nvapors, we see it not clear and bright, but obscure and cloudy, and with\nglimmering beams. Just so in a muddy and clogged body, that is swagged\ndown with heavy and unnatural nourishments; it must needs happen that\nthe gayety and splendor of the mind be confused and dulled, and that it\nramble and roll after little and scarce discernible objects, since it\nwants clearness and vigor for higher things.\n\nBut to pass by these considerations, is not accustoming one's self to\nmildness and a human temper of mind an admirable thing? For who would\nwrong or injure a man that is so sweetly and humanly disposed with\nrespect to the ills of strangers that are not of his kind? I remember\nthat three days ago, as I was discoursing, I made mention of a saying\nof Xenocrates, and how the Athenians gave judgment upon a certain person\nwho had flayed a living ram. For my part I cannot think him a worse\ncriminal that torments a poor creature while living, than a man that\nshall take away its life and murder it. But (as it seems) we are more\nsensible of what is done against custom than against Nature. There,\nhowever, I discussed these matters in a more popular style. But as\nfor that grand and mysterious principle which (as Plato speaks) is\nincredible to base minds and to such as affect only mortal things, I\nas little care to move it in this discourse as a pilot doth a ship in\na storm, or a comedian his machine while the scenes are moving; but\nperhaps it would not be amiss, by way of introduction and preface,\nto repeat certain verses of Empedocles.... For in these, by way of\nallegory, he hints at men's souls, as that they are tied to mortal\nbodies, to be punished for murders, eating of flesh and of one another,\nalthough this doctrine seems much, ancienter than his time. For the\nfables that are storied and related about the discerption of Bacchus,\nand the attempts of the Titans upon him, and of their tasting of\nhis slain body, and of their several punishments and fulminations\nafterwards, are but a representation of the regeneration. For what in\nus is unreasonable, disorderly, and boisterous, being not divine but\ndemoniac, the ancients termed Titans, that is, TORMENTED and PUNISHED\n(from [Greek omitted])....\n\n\n\nTRACT II. Reason persuades us now to return with fresh cogitations\nand dispositions to what we left cold yesterday of our discourse about\nflesh-eating. It is indeed a hard and a difficult task to undertake (as\nCato once said) to dispute with men's bellies, that have no ears; since\nmost have already drunk that draught of custom, which is like that of\nCiree,\n\n     Of groans and frauds and sorcery replete.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" x. 234.)\n\nAnd it is no easy task to pull out the hook of flesh-eating from the\njaws of such as have gorged themselves with luxury and are (as it\nwere) nailed down with it. It would indeed be a good action, if as\nthe Egyptians draw out the stomach of a dead body, and cut it open and\nexpose it to the sun, as the only cause of all its evil actions, so\nwe could, by cutting out our gluttony and blood-shedding, purify and\ncleanse the remainder of our lives. For the stomach itself is not guilty\nof bloodshed, but is involuntarily polluted by our intemperance. But\nif this may not be, and we are ashamed by reason of custom to live\nunblamably, let us at least sin with discretion. Let us eat flesh; but\nlet it be for hunger and not for wantonness. Let us kill an animal; but\nlet us do it with sorrow and pity, and not abusing and tormenting it, as\nmany nowadays are used to do, while some run red-hot spits through the\nbodies of swine, that by the tincture of the quenched iron the blood may\nbe to that degree mortified, that it may sweeten and soften the flesh in\nits circulation; others jump and stamp upon the udders of sows that are\nready to pig, that so they may crush into one mass (O Piacular Jupiter!)\nin the very pangs of delivery, blood, milk, and the corruption of the\nmashed and mangled young ones, and so eat the most inflamed part of the\nanimal; others sew up the eyes of cranes and swans, and so shut them up\nin darkness to be fattened, and then souse up their flesh with certain\nmonstrous mixtures and pickles.\n\nBy all which it is most manifest, that it is not for nourishment,\nor want, or any necessity, but for mere gluttony, wantonness, and\nexpensiveness, that they make a pleasure of villany. Just as it happens\nin persons who cannot satiate their passion upon women, and having made\ntrial of everything else and falling into vagaries, at last attempt\nthings not to be mentioned; even so inordinateness in feeding, when it\nhath once passed the bounds of nature and necessity, studies at last to\ndiversify the lusts of its intemperate appetite by cruelty and villany.\nFor the senses, when they once quit their natural measures, sympathize\nwith each other in their distempers, and are enticed by each other\nto the same consent and intemperance. Thus a distempered ear first\ndebauched music, the soft and effeminate notes of which provoke immodest\ntouches and lascivious tickling. These things first taught the eye\nnot to delight in Pyrrhic dances, gesticulations of hands, or elegant\npantomimes, nor in statues and fine paintings; but to reckon the\nslaughtering and death of mankind and wounds and duels the most\nsumptuous of shows and spectacles. Thus unlawful tables are accompanied\nwith intemperate copulations, with unmusicianlike balls, and theatres\nbecome monstrous through shameful songs and rehearsals; and barbarous\nand brutish shows are again accompanied with an unrelenting temper and\nsavage cruelty towards mankind. Hence it was that the divine Lycurgus in\nhis Three Books of Laws gave orders that the doors and ridges of\nmen's houses should be made with a saw and an axe, and that no other\ninstrument should so much as be brought to any house. Not that he\ndid hereby intend to declare war against augers and planes and other\ninstruments of finer work; but because he very well knew that with such\ntools as these you will never bring into your house a gilded couch,\nand that you will never attempt to bring into a slender cottage either\nsilver tables, purple carpets, or costly stones; but that a plain supper\nand a homely dinner must accompany such a house, couch table, and cup.\nThe beginning of a vicious diet is presently followed by all sorts of\nluxury and expensiveness,\n\n     Ev'n as a mare is by her thirsty colt.\n============= And what meal is not expensive? One for which no animal is\nput to death. Shall we reckon a soul to be a small expense? I will not\nsay perhaps of a mother, or a father, or of some friend, or child, as\nEmpedocles did; but one participating of feeling, of seeing, of hearing,\nof imagination, and of intellection; which each animal hath received\nfrom Nature for the acquiring of what is agreeable to it, and the\navoiding what is disagreeable. Do but consider this with yourself now,\nwhich sort of philosophers render us most tame and civil, they who bid\npeople to feed on their children, friends, fathers, and wives, when they\nare dead; or Pythagoras and Empedocles, that accustom men to be just\ntowards even the other members of the creation. You laugh at a man that\nwill not eat a sheep: but we (they will say again)--when we see you\ncutting off the parts of your dead father or mother, and sending it to\nyour absent friends, and calling upon and inviting your present\nfriends to eat the rest freely and heartily--shall we not smile? Nay,\nperadventure we offend at this instant time while we touch these books,\nwithout having first cleansed our hands, eyes, feet, and ears; if it be\nnot (by Jupiter) a sufficient purgation of them to have discoursed of\nthese matters in potable and fresh language (as Plato speaketh), thereby\nwashing off the brackishness of hearing. Now if a man should set these\nbooks and discourses in opposition to each other, he will find that\nthe philosophy of the one sort suits with the Seythians, Sogdians, and\nMelanchlaenians, of whom Herodotus's relation is scarce believed; but\nthe sentiments of Pythagoras and Empedocles were the laws and customs of\nthe ancients Grecians.\n\nWho, then, were the first authors of this opinion, that we owe no\njustice to dumb animals?\n\n     Who first beat out accursed steel,\n     And made the lab'ring ox a knife to feel.\n\nIn the very same manner oppressors and tyrants begin first to shed\nblood. For example, the first man that the Athenians ever put to death\nwas one of the basest of all knaves, who had the reputation of deserving\nit; after him they put to death a second and a third. After this, being\nnow accustomed to blood, they patiently saw Niceratus the son of Nicias,\nand their own general Theramenes, and Polemarchus the philosopher suffer\ndeath. Even so, in the beginning, some wild and mischievous beast was\nkilled and eaten, and then some little bird or fish was entrapped.\nAnd the desire of slaughter, being first experimented and exercised\nin these, at last passed even to the laboring ox, and the sheep that\nclothes us, and to the poor cock that keeps the house; until by little\nand little, unsatiableness, being strengthened by use, men came to\nthe slaughter of men, to bloodshed and wars. Now even if one cannot\ndemonstrate and make out, that souls in their regenerations make a\npromiscuous use of all bodies, and that that which is now rational\nwill at another time be irrational, and that again tame which is now\nwild,--for that Nature changes and transmutes everything,\n\n     With different fleshy coats new clothing all,--\n\nthis thing should be sufficient to change and show men, that it is a\nsavage and intemperate habit, that it brings sickness and heaviness upon\nthe body, and that it inclines the mind the more brutishly to bloodshed\nand destruction, when we have once accustomed ourselves neither to\nentertain a guest nor keep a wedding nor to treat our friends without\nblood and slaughter.\n\nAnd if what is argued about the return of souls into bodies is not of\nforce enough to beget faith, yet methinks the very uncertainty of the\nthing should fill us with apprehension and fear. Suppose, for instance,\none should in some night-engagement run on with his drawn sword upon one\nthat had fallen down and covered his body with his arms, and should\nin the meantime hear one say, that he was not very sure, but that\nhe fancied and believed, that the party lying there was his own son,\nbrother, father, or tent-companion; which were more advisable, think\nyou,--to hearken to a false suggestion, and so to let go an enemy under\nthe notion of a friend, or to slight an authority not sufficient to\nbeget faith, and to slay a friend instead of a foe? This you will all\nsay would be insupportable. Do but consider the famous Merope in the\ntragedy, who taking up a hatchet, and lifting it at her son's head, whom\nshe took for her son's murderer, speaks thus as she was ready to give\nthe fatal blow,\n\n     Villain, this holy blow shall cleave thy head;\n     (Euripides, \"Cresphontes,\" Frag. 457.)\n\nwhat a bustle she raises in the whole theatre while she raises herself\nto give the blow, and what a fear they are all in, lest she should\nprevent the old man that comes to stop her hand, and should wound the\nyouth. Now if another old man should stand by her and say, \"Strike, it\nis thy enemy,\" and this, \"Hold, it is thy son\"; which, think you, would\nbe the greater injustice, to omit the punishing of an enemy for the sake\nof one's child, or to suffer one's self to be so carried away with anger\nat an enemy as to slay one's child? Since then neither hatred nor wrath\nnor any revenge nor fear for ourselves carries us to the slaughter of\na beast, but the poor sacrifice stands with an inclined neck, only to\nsatisfy thy lust and pleasure, and then one philosopher stands by\nand tells thee, \"Cut him down, it is but an unreasonable animal,\" and\nanother cries, \"Hold, what if there should be the soul of some kinsman\nor god enclosed in him?\"--good gods! is there the like danger if I\nrefuse to eat flesh, as if I for want of faith murder my child or some\nother friend?\n\nThe Stoics' way of reasoning upon this subject of flesh-eating is no\nway equal nor consonant with themselves. Who is this that hath so many\nmouths for his belly and the kitchen? Whence comes it to pass, that they\nso very much womanize and reproach pleasure, as a thing that they will\nnot allow to be either good or preferable, or so much as agreeable, and\nyet all on a sudden become so zealous advocates for pleasures? It were\nindeed but a reasonable consequence of their doctrine, that, since they\nbanish perfumes and cakes from their banquets, they should be much more\naverse to blood and to flesh. But now, just as if they would reduce\ntheir philosophy to their account-books, they lessen the expenses of\ntheir suppers in certain unnecessary and needless matters, but the\nuntamed and murderous part of their expense they nothing boggle at.\n\"Well! What then?\" say they. \"We have nothing to do with brute beasts.\"\nNor have you any with perfumes, nor with foreign sauces, may some one\nanswer; therefore leave these out of your banquets, if you are driving\nout everything that is both useless and needless.\n\nLet us therefore in the next place consider, whether we owe any justice\nto the brute beasts. Neither shall we handle this point artificially, or\nlike subtle sophisters, but by casting our eye into our own breasts, and\nconversing with ourselves as men, we will weigh and examine the whole\nmatter....\n\n\nEND OF EIGHT-----------\n\n\n\n\nCONCERNING FATE.\n\n\n(\"This little Treatise is so pitiously torne, maimed, and dismembred\nthorowout, that a man may sooner divine and guess thereat (as I have\ndone) than translate it.\"--HOLLAND.)\n\nI will endeavor, my dearest Piso, to send you my opinion concerning\nFate, written with all the clearness and compendiousness I am capable\nof; since you, who are not ignorant how cautious I am of writing, have\nthought fit to make it the subject of your request.\n\nYou are first, then, to know that this word Fate is spoken and\nunderstood two manner of ways; the one as it is an energy, the other\nas it is a substance. First, therefore, as it is an action, Plato (See\nPlato, \"Phaedrus,\" p. 248 C; \"Timaeus,\" p.41 E; \"Republic,\" x. p.617\nD.) has under a type described it, saying thus in his dialogue entitled\nPhaedrus: \"And this is a sanction of Adrastea (or an inevitable\nordinance), that whatever soul being an attendant on God,\" &c. And in\nhis treatise called Timaeus: \"The laws which God in the nature of the\nuniverse has established for immortal souls.\" And in his book of a\nCommonweal he entitles Fate \"the speech of the virgin Lachesis, who is\nthe daughter of Necessity.\" By which sentences he not tragically but\ntheologically shows us what his sentiments are in this matter. Now if\nany one, paraphrasing the fore-cited passages, would have them expressed\nin more familiar terms, the description in Phaedrus may be thus\nexplained: That Fate is a divine sentence, intransgressible since its\ncause cannot be divested or hindered. And according to what he has\nsaid in his Timaeus, it is a law ensuing on the nature of the universe,\naccording to which all things that are done are transacted. For this\ndoes Lachesis effect, who is indeed the daughter of Necessity,--as we\nhave both already related, and shall yet better understand by that which\nwill be said in the progress of our discourse. Thus you see what Fate\nis, when it is taken for an action.\n\nBut as it is a substance, it seems to be the universal soul of the\nworld, and admits of a threefold distribution; the first destiny being\nthat which errs not; the second, that which is thought to err; and the\nthird that which, being under the heaven, is conversant about the\nearth. Of these, the highest is called Clotho, the next Atropos, and the\nlowest, Lachesis; who, receiving the celestial influences and efficacies\nof her sisters, transmits and fastens them to the terrestrial things\nwhich are under her government. Thus have we declared briefly what is to\nbe said of Fate, taken as a substance; what it is, what are its parts,\nafter what manner it is, how it is ordained, and how it stands, both\nin respect to itself and to us. But as to the particularities of these\nthings, there is another fable in his Commonweal, by which they are in\nsome measure covertly insinuated, and we ourselves have, in the best\nmanner we can, endeavored to explain them to you.\n\nBut we now once again turn our discourse to Fate, as it is an energy.\nFor concerning this it is that there are so many natural, moral, and\nlogical questions. Having therefore already in some sort sufficiently\ndefined what it is, we are now in the next place to say something of\nits quality, although it may to many seem absurd. I say then that Fate,\nthough comprehending as it were in a circle the infinity of all those\nthings which are and have been from infinite times and shall be to\ninfinite ages, is not in itself infinite, but determinate and finite;\nfor neither law, reason, nor any other divine thing can be infinite.\nAnd this you will the better understand, if you consider the total\nrevolution and the total time in which the revolutions of the eight\ncircles (that is, of the eight spheres of the fixed stars, sun, moon,\nand five planets), having (as Timaeus (Plato, \"Timaeus,\" p.39 D.) says)\nfinished their course, return to one and the same point, being measured\nby the circle of the Same, which goes always after one manner. For in\nthis order, which is finite and determinate, shall all things (which, as\nwell in heaven as in earth, consist by necessity from above) be reduced\nto the same situation, and restored again to their first beginning.\nWherefore the habitude of heaven alone, being thus ordained in all\nthings, as well in regard of itself as of the earth and all terrestrial\nmatters, shall again (after long revolutions) one day return; and\nthose things that in order follow after, and being linked together in\na continuity are maintained in their course, shall follow, every one of\nthem by necessity bringing what is its own. But for the better clearing\nof this matter, let us understand that whatever is in us or about us\nis not wrought by the course of the heavens and heavenly influences, as\nbeing entirely the efficient cause both of my writing what I now write,\nand of your doing also what you at present do, and in the same manner as\nyou do it. Hereafter, then, when the same cause shall return, we shall\ndo the same things we now do and in the same manner, and shall again\nbecome the same men; and so it will be with all others. And that which\nfollows after shall also happen by the following cause; and in brief,\nall things that shall happen in the whole and in every one of these\nuniversal revolutions shall again become the same. By this it appears\n(as we have said before) that Fate, being in some sort infinite, is\nnevertheless determinate and finite; and it may be also in some sort\nseen and comprehended, as we have farther said, that it is as it were\na circle. For as a motion of a circle is a circle, and the time that\nmeasures it is also a circle; so the order of things which are done and\nhappen in a circle may be justly esteemed and called a circle.\n\nThis, therefore, though there should be nothing else, almost shows us\nwhat sort of thing Fate is; but not particularly or in every respect.\nWhat kind of thing then is it in its own form? It is, as far as one can\ncompare it, like to the civil or politic law. For first it orders the\nmost part of things at least, if not all, conditionally; and then it\ncomprises (as far as is possible for it) all things that belong to the\npublic in general; and the better to make you understand both the one\nand the other, we must specify them by an example. The civil law speaks\nand ordains in general of a valiant man, and also of a deserter and a\ncoward; and in the same manner of others. Now this is not to make the\nlaw speak of this or that man in particular, but principally to propose\nsuch things as are universal or general, and consequently such as fall\nunder them. For we may very well say, that it is legal to reward\nthis from his colors; because the law has virtually--though not in express\nterms and particularly yet in such general ones as they are comprehended\nunder,--so determined of them. As the law (if I may so speak) of\nphysicians and masters of corporal exercises potentially comprehends\nparticular and special things within the general; so the law of Nature,\ndetermining first and principally general matters, secondarily and\nsubordinately determines such as are particular. Thus, general things\nbeing decreed by Fate, particular and individual things may also in\nsome sort be said to be so, because they are so by consequence with the\ngeneral. But perhaps some one of those who more accurately examine and\nmore subtly search into these things may say, on the contrary, that\nparticular and individual things precede the composition of general\nthings, and that the general exist only for the particular, since that\nfor which another thing is always goes before that which is for it.\nNevertheless, this is not the proper place to treat of this difficulty,\nbut it is to be remitted to another. However, that Fate comprehends not\nall things clearly and expressly, but only such as are universal and\ngeneral, let it pass for resolved on at present, as well for what we\nhave already said a little before, as for what we shall say hereafter.\nFor that which is finite and determinate, agreeing properly with\ndivine Providence, is seen more in universal and general things than in\nparticular; such therefore is the divine law, and also the civil; but\ninfinity consists in particulars and individuals.\n\nAfter this we are to declare what this term \"conditionally\" means; for\nit is to be thought that Fate is also some such thing. That, then, is\nsaid to be conditionally, which is supposed to exist not of itself or\nabsolutely, but as really dependent upon and joined to another; which\nsignifies a suit and consequence. \"And this is the sanction of Adrastea\n(or an inevitable ordinance), that whatever soul, being an attendant\non God, shall see anything of truth, shall till another revolution be\nexempt from punishment; and if it is ever able to do the same, it shall\nnever suffer any damage.\" This is said both conditionally and also\nuniversally. Now that Fate is some such thing is clearly manifest,\nas well from its substance as from its name. For it is called [Greek\nomitted] as being [Greek omitted], that is, dependent and linked; and it\nis a sanction or law, because things are therein ordained and disposed\nconsequentially, as is usual in civil government.\n\nWe ought in the next place to consider and treat of mutual relation\nand affection; that is, what reference and respect Fate has to divine\nProvidence, what to Fortune, what also to \"that which is in our power,\"\nwhat to contingent and other such like things; and furthermore we are\nto determine, how far and in what it is true or false that all things\nhappen and are done by and according to Fate. For if the meaning is,\nthat all things are comprehended and contained in Fate, it must be\ngranted that this proposition is true; and if any would farther have it\nso understood, that all things which are done amongst men, on earth,\nand in heaven are placed in Fate, let this also pass as granted for the\npresent. But if (as the expression seems rather to imply) the \"being\ndone according to Fate\" signifies not all things, but only that which\nis a direct consequent of Fate, then it must not be said that all things\nhappen and are done by and according to Fate, though all things are so\naccording to Fate as to be comprised in it. For all things that the law\ncomprehends and of which it speaks are not legal or according to law;\nfor it comprehends treason, it treats of the cowardly running away from\none's colors in time of battle, of adultery, and many other such like\nthings, of which it cannot be said that any one of them is lawful.\nNeither indeed can I affirm of the performing a valorous act in war, the\nkilling of a tyrant, or the doing any other virtuous deed, that it\nis legal; because that only is proper to be called legal, which is\ncommanded by the law. Now if the law commands these things, how can they\navoid being rebels against the law and transgressors of it, who neither\nperform valiant feats of arms, kill tyrants, nor do any other such\nremarkable acts of virtue? And if they are transgressors of the law, why\nis it not just they should be punished? But if this is not reasonable,\nit must then be also confessed that these things are not legal or\naccording to law; but that legal and according to law is only that which\nis particularly prescribed and expressly commanded by the law, in any\naction whatsoever. In like manner, those things only are fatal and\naccording to Fate, which are the consequences of causes preceding in the\ndivine disposition. So that Fate indeed comprehends all things which are\ndone; yet many of those things that are comprehended in it, and almost\nall that precede, should not (to speak properly) be pronounced to be\nfatal or according to Fate.\n\nThese things being so, we are next in order to show, how \"that which is\nin our power\" (or free will), Fortune, possible, contingent, and other\nlike things which are placed among the antecedent causes, can consist\nwith Fate, and Fate with them; for Fate, as it seems, comprehends all\nthings, and yet all these things will not happen by necessity, but every\none of them according to the principle of its nature. Now the nature\nof the possible is to presubsist, as the genus, and to go before the\ncontingent; and the contingent, as the matter and subject, is to be in\nthe sphere of free will; and our free will ought as a master to make\nuse of the contingent; and Fortune comes in by the side of free will,\nthrough the property of the contingent of inclining to either part. Now\nyou will more easily apprehend what has been said, if you shall consider\nthat everything which is generated, and the generation itself, is not\ndone without a generative faculty or power, and the power is not without\na substance. As for example, neither the generation of man, nor that\nwhich is generated, is without a power; but this power is about man, and\nman himself is the substance. Now the power or faculty is between the\nsubstance, which is the powerful, and the generation and the thing\ngenerated, which are both possibles. There being then these three\nthings, the power, the powerful, and the possible; before the power can\nexist, the powerful must of necessity be presupposed as its subject,\nand the power must also necessarily subsist before the possible. By\nthis deduction then may in some measure be understood what is meant by\npossible; which may be grossly defined as \"that which power is able to\nproduce;\" or yet more exactly, if to this same there be added, \"provided\nthere be nothing from without to hinder or obstruct it.\" Now of possible\nthings there are some which can never be hindered, as are those in\nheaven, to wit, the rising and setting of the stars, and the like to\nthese; but others may indeed be hindered, as are the most part of human\nthings, and many also of those which are done in the air. The first,\nas being done by necessity, are called necessary; the others, which may\nfall one way or other, are called contingent; and they may both thus be\ndescribed. The necessary possible is that whose contrary is impossible;\nand the contingent possible is that whose contrary is also possible.\nFor that the sun should set is a thing both necessary and possible,\nforasmuch as it is contrary to this that the sun should not set, which\nis impossible; but that, when the sun is set, there should be rain or\nnot rain, both the one and the other is possible and contingent. And\nthen again of things contingent, some happen oftener, others rarely and\nnot so often, others fall out equally or indifferently, as well the one\nway as the other, even as it happens. Now it is manifest that those are\ncontrary to one another,--to wit, those which fall out oftener and those\nwhich happen but seldom,--and they both for the most part are dependent\non Nature; but that which happens equally, as much one way as another,\ndepends on ourselves. For that under the Dog it should be either hot or\ncold, the one oftener, the other seldomer, are both things subject to\nNature; but to walk and not to walk, and all such things of which both\nthe one and the other are submitted to the free will of man, are said\nto be in us and our election; but rather more generally to be in us.\nFor there are two sorts of this \"being in our power\"; the one of which\nproceeds from some sudden passion and motion of the mind, as from anger\nor pleasure; the other from the discourse and judgment of reason, which\nmay properly be said to be in our election. And some reason there is to\nhold that this possible and contingent is the same thing with that which\nis said to be in our power and according to our free will, although\nnamed differently. For in respect to the future, it is called possible\nand contingent; and in respect of the present, it is named \"in our\npower\" and \"in our free choice.\" These things may thus be defined: The\ncontingent is that which is itself--as well as its contrary--possible;\nand \"that which is in our power\" is one part of the contingent, to wit,\nthat which now takes place according to our choice. Thus have we in a\nmanner declared, that the possible in the order of Nature precedes the\ncontingent, and that the contingent exists before free will; as also\nwhat each of them is, whence they are so named, and what are the\nqualities adjoined or appertaining to them.\n\nIt now remains, that we treat of Fortune and casual adventure, and\nwhatever else is to be considered with them. It is therefore certain\nthat Fortune is a cause. Now of causes, some are causes by themselves,\nand others by accident. Thus for example, the proper cause by itself\nof an house or a ship is the art of the mason, the carpenter, or the\nshipwright; but accidental causes are music, geometry, and whatever else\nmay happen to be joined with the art of building houses or ships, in\nrespect either of the body, the soul, or any exterior thing. Whence it\nappears, that the cause by itself must needs be determinate and one;\nbut the causes by accident are never one and the same, but infinite and\nundetermined. For many--nay, infinite--accidents, wholly different one\nfrom the other, may be in one and the same subject. Now the cause by\naccident, when it is found in a thing which not only is done for some\nend but has in it free will and election, is then called Fortune; as is\nthe finding a treasure while one is digging a hole to plant a tree, or\nthe doing or suffering some extraordinary thing whilst one is flying,\nfollowing, or otherwise walking, or only turning about, provided it be\nnot for the sake of that which happens, but for some other intention.\nHence it is, that some of the ancients have declared Fortune to be a\ncause unknown that cannot be foreseen by the human reason. But according\nto the Platonics, who have approached yet nearer to the true reason of\nit, it is thus defined: Fortune is a cause by accident, in those\nthings which are done for some end, and which are of our election. And\nafterwards they add, that it is unforeseen and unknown to the human\nreason; although that which is rare and strange appears also by the same\nmeans to be in this kind of cause by accident. But what this is, if it\nis not sufficiently evidenced by the oppositions and disputations made\nagainst it, will at least most clearly be seen by what is written in\nPlato's Phaedo, where you will find these words:--\n\nPHAED. Have you not heard how and in what manner the judgment passed?\nECH. Yes indeed; for there came one and told us of it. At which we\nwondered very much that, the judgment having been given long before, it\nseems that he died a great while after. And what, Phaedo, might be the\ncause of it? PHAED. It was a fortune which happened to him, Echecrates.\nFor it chanced that, the day before the judgment, the prow of the galley\nwhich the Athenians send every year to the isle of Delos was crowned.\n(Plato, \"Phaedo,\" p.58 A.)\n\nIn which discourse it is to be observed, that the expression HAPPENED TO\nHIM is not simply to be understood by WAS DONE or CAME TO PASS, but\nit much rather regards what befell him through the concurrence of many\ncauses together, one being done in connection with another. For the\npriest crowned the ship and adorned it with garlands for another end and\nintention, and not for the sake of Socrates; and the judges also had\nfor some other cause condemned him. But the event was contrary to\nexperience, and of such a nature that it might seem to have been\neffected by the foresight of some human creature, or rather of the\nsuperior powers. And so much may suffice to show with what Fortune must\nof necessity subsist, and that there must subsist first such things as\nare in our free will: what it effects is, like itself called Fortune.\n============== But chance or casual adventure is of a larger extent than\nFortune; which it comprehends, and also several other things which may\nof their own nature happen sometimes one way, sometimes another. And\nthis, as it appears by the derivation of the word, which is in Greek\n[Greek omitted] CHANCE, is that which happens of itself, when that which\nis ordinary happens not, but another thing in its place; such as cold\nin the dog-days seems to be; for it is sometimes then cold.... Once for\nall, as \"that which is in our power\" is a part of the contingent, so\nFortune is a part of chance or casual adventure; and both the two events\nare conjoined and dependent on the one and the other, to wit, chance on\ncontingent, and Fortune on \"that which is in our choice,\"--and yet\nnot on all, but on what is in our election, as we have already said.\nWherefore chance is common to things inanimate, as well as to those\nwhich are animated; whereas Fortune is proper to man only, who has his\nactions voluntary. And an argument of this is, that to be fortunate and\nto be happy are thought to be one and the same thing. Now happiness is\na certain well-doing, and well-doing is proper only to man, and to him\nperfect.\n\nThese, then, are the things which are comprised in Fate, to wit,\ncontingent, possible, election, \"that which is in our power,\" Fortune,\nchance, and their adjuncts, as are the things signified by the words\nperhaps and peradventure; all which indeed are contained in Fate. Yet\nnone Of them is fatal. It now remains, that we discourse of divine\nProvidence, and show how it comprehends even Fate itself.\n\nThe supreme therefore and first Providence is the understanding or (if\nyou had rather) the will of the first and sovereign God, doing good\nto everything that is in the world, by which all divine things have\nuniversally and throughout been most excellently and most wisely\nordained and disposed. The second Providence is that of the second\ngods, who go through the heaven, by which temporal and mortal things are\norderly and regularly generated, and which pertains to the continuation\nand preservation of every kind. The third may probably be called the\nProvidence and procuration of the Daemons, which, being placed on the\nearth, are the guardians and overseers of human actions. This threefold\nProvidence therefore being seen, of which the first and supreme is\nchiefly and principally so named, we shall not be afraid to say,\nalthough we may in this seem to contradict the sentiments of some\nphilosophers, that all things are done by Fate and by Providence, but\nnot also by Nature. But some are done according to Providence, these\naccording to one, those according to another,--and some according to\nFate; and Fate is altogether according to Providence, while Providence\nis in no wise according to Fate. But let this discourse be understood\nof the first and supreme Providence. Now that which is done according to\nanother, whatever it is, is always posterior to that according to which\nit is done; as that which is according to the law is after the law,\nand that which is according to Nature is after Nature, so that which is\naccording to Fate is after Fate, and must consequently be more new and\nmodern. Wherefore supreme Providence is the most ancient of all things,\nexcept him whose will or understanding it is, to wit, the sovereign\nauthor, maker, and father of all things. \"Let us therefore,\" says\nTimaeus, \"discourse for what cause the Creator made and framed this\nmachine of the universe. He was good, and in him that is good there\ncan never be imprinted or engendered any envy against anything. Being\ntherefore wholly free from this, he desired that all things should, as\nfar as it is possible, resemble himself. He, therefore, who admits\nthis to have been chiefly the principal original of the generation\nand creation of the world, as it has been delivered to us by wise men,\nreceives that which is most right. For God, who desired that all things\nshould be good, and nothing, as far as possibly might be, evil, taking\nthus all that was visible,--restless as it was, and moving rashly and\nconfusedly,--reduced it from disorder to order, esteeming the one to be\naltogether better than the other. For it neither was nor is convenient\nfor him who is in all perfection good, to make anything that should\nnot be very excellent and beautiful.\" (Plato, \"Timaeus,\" p.29 D.) This,\ntherefore, and all that follows, even to his disputation concerning\nhuman souls, is to be understood of the first Providence, which in the\nbeginning constituted all things. Afterwards he speaks thus: \"Having\nframed the universe, he ordained souls equal in number to the stars, and\ndistributed to each of them one; and having set them, as it were, in a\nchariot, showed the nature of the universe, and appointed them the laws\nof Fate.\" (Ibid. p.41 D.) Who, then, will not believe, that by these\nwords he expressly and manifestly declares Fate to be, as it were, a\nfoundation and political constitution of laws, fitted for the souls of\nmen? Of which he afterwards renders the cause.\n\nAs for the second Providence, he thus in a manner explains it, saying:\n\"Having prescribed them all these laws, to the end that, if there should\nafterwards happen any fault, he might be exempt from being the cause of\nany of their evil, he dispersed some of them upon the earth, some into\nthe moon, and some into the other instruments of time. And after this\ndispersion, he gave in charge to the young gods the making of human\nbodies, and the making up and adding whatever was wanting and deficient\nin human souls; and after they had perfected whatever is adherent and\nconsequent to this, they should rule and govern, in the best manner\nthey possibly could, this mortal creature, so far as it might not be the\ncause of its own evils.\" (Ibid. p.42 D.) For by these words, \"that he\nmight be exempt from being the cause of any of their evil,\" he most\nclearly signifies the cause of Fate; and the order and office of the\nyoung gods manifests the second Providence; and it seems also in\nsome sort to have touched a little upon the third, if he therefore\nestablished laws and ordinances that he might be exempt from being the\ncause of any of their evil. For God, who is free from all evil, has no\nneed of laws or Fate; but every one of these petty gods, drawn on by the\nprovidence of him who has engendered them, performs what belongs to his\noffice. Now that this is true and agreeable to the opinion of Plato,\nthese words of the lawgiver, spoken by him in his Book of Laws, seems to\nme to give sufficient testimony: \"If there were any man so sufficient\nby Nature, being by divine Fortune happily engendered and born, that he\ncould comprehend this, he would have no need of laws to command him.\nFor there is not any law or ordinance more worthy and powerful than\nknowledge; nor is it suitable that Mind, provided it be truly and really\nfree by Nature, should be a subject or slave to any one, but it ought to\ncommand all.\" (Plato, \"Laws,\" ix. p.875 C.)\n\nI therefore do for mine own part thus understand and interpret this\nsentence of Plato. There being a threefold Providence, the first, as\nhaving engendered Fate, does in some sort comprehend it; the second,\nhaving been engendered with Fate, is with it totally comprehended and\nembraced by the first; the third, as having been engendered after Fate,\nis comprehended by it in the same manner as are free choice and Fortune,\nas we have already said. \"For they whom the assistance of a Daemon's\npower does help in their intercourse\" says Socrates, declaring to\nTheages what is the almost settled ordinance of Adrastea \"are those whom\nyou also mean; for they advance quickly.\" (Plato, \"Theages\", p.129 E.)\nIn which words, what he says of a Daemon's aiding some is to be ascribed\nto the third Providence, and the growing and coming forward with speed\nto Fate. In brief, it is not obscure or doubtful but that this also is\na kind of Fate. And perhaps it may be found much more probable that the\nsecond Providence is also comprehended under Fate, and indeed all things\nthat are done; since Fate, as a substance, has been rightly divided\nby us into three parts, and the simile of the chain comprehends the\nrevolutions of the heavens in the number and rank of those things\nwhich happen conditionally. But concerning these things I will not much\ncontend, to wit, whether they should be called conditional, or rather\nconjoined with Fate, the precedent cause and commander of Fate being\nalso fatal.\n\nOur opinion, then, to speak briefly, is such. But the contrary sentiment\nnot only places all things in Fate, but affirms them all to be done by\nFate. It agrees indeed in all things to the other (the Stoic) doctrine;\nand that which accords to another thing, 'tis clear, is the same with\nit. In this discourse therefore we have first spoken of the contingent;\nsecondly, of \"that which is in our power\"; thirdly, of Fortune and\nchance, and whatever depends on them; fourthly, of praise, blame, and\nwhatever depends on them; the fifth and last of all may be said to be\nprayers to the gods, with their services and ceremonies.\n\nFor the rest, as to those which are called idle and cropping arguments,\nand that which is named the argument against destiny, they are indeed\nbut vain subtleties and captious sophisms, according to this discourse.\nBut according to the contrary opinion, the first and principal\nconclusion seems to be, that there is nothing done without a cause,\nbut that all things depend upon antecedent causes; the second, that the\nworld is governed by Nature, and that it conspires, consents, and is\ncompatible with itself; the third seems rather to be testimonies,--of\nwhich the first is divination, approved by all sorts of people, as being\ntruly in God; the second is the equanimity and patience of wise men, who\ntake mildly and bear patiently whatever befalls, as happening by divine\nordinance and as it ought; the third is the speech so common and usual\nin every one's mouth, to wit, that every proposition is true or false.\nThus have we contracted this discourse into a small number of short\narticles, that we might in few words comprehend the whole matter of\nFate; into which a scrutiny ought to be made, and the reasons of both\nopinions to be weighed with a most exact balance. But we shall come to\ndiscuss particulars later.\n\n\nEND OF NINE-----------\n\n\n\n\nAGAINST COLOTES, THE DISCIPLE AND FAVORITE OF EPICURUS.\n\nCOLOTES, whom Epicurus was wont diminutively and by way of familiarity\nor fondness to call Colotaras and Colotarion, composed, O Saturninus,\nand published a little book which he entitled, \"That according to the\nopinions of the other philosophers one cannot so much as live.\" This was\ndedicated to King Ptolemy. Now I suppose that it will not be unpleasant\nfor you to read, when set down in writing, what came into my mind\nto speak against this Colotes, since I know you to be a lover of all\nelegant and honest treatises, and particularly of such as regard the\nscience of antiquity, and to esteem the bearing in memory and having (as\nmuch as possible may be) in hand the discourses of the ancient sages to\nbe the most royal of all studies and exercises.\n\nNot long since, therefore, as this book was being read, Aristodemus of\nAegium, a familiar friend of ours (whom you well know to be one of the\nAcademy, and not a mere thyrsus-bearer, but one of the most frantic\ncelebrators of Plato's name), did, I know not how, keep himself contrary\nto his custom very still all the while, and patiently gave ear to it\neven to the end. But the reading was scarce well over when he said:\nWell, then, whom shall we cause to rise up and fight against this man,\nin defence of the philosophers? For I am not of Nestor's opinion, who,\nwhen the most valiant of those nine warriors that presented themselves\nto enter into combat was to be chosen, committed the election to the\nfortune of a lot.\n\nYet, answered I, you see he so disposed himself in reference to the lot,\nthat the choice might pass according to the arbitrament of the wisest\nman;\n\n     And th' lot drawn from the helmet, as they wished,\n     On Ajax fell.\n\nBut yet since you command me to make the election,\n\n     How can I think a better choice to make\n     Than the divine Ulysses?\n     (\"Iliad,\" vii. 182; x. 243.)\n\nConsider therefore, and be well advised, in what manner you will\nchastise this man.\n\nBut you know, replied Aristodemus, that Plato, when highly offended with\nhis boy that waited on him, would not himself beat him, but requested\nSpeusippus to do it for him, saying that he himself was angry. As much\ntherefore may I say to you; Take this fellow to you, and treat him as\nyou please; for I am in a fit of choler.\n\nWhen therefore all the rest of the company desired me to undertake this\noffice; I must then, said I, speak, since it is your pleasure. But I\nam afraid that I also shall seem more vehemently transported than is\nfitting against this book, in the defending and maintaining Socrates\nagainst the rudeness, scurrility, and insolence of this man; who,\nbecause Socrates affirmed himself to know nothing certainly, instead\nof bread (as one would say) present him hay, as if he were a beast, and\nasks him why he puts meat into his mouth and not into his ear. And yet\nperhaps some would make but a laughing matter of this, considering the\nmildness and gentleness of Socrates; \"but for the whole host of\nthe Greeks,\" that is, of the other philosophers, amongst which are\nDemocritus, Plato, Stilpo, Empedocles, Parmenides, and Melissus, who\nhave been basely traduced and reviled by him, it were not only a shame\nto be silent, but even a sacrilege in the least point to forbear\nor recede from freedom of speech in their behalf, who have advanced\nphilosophy to that honor and reputation it has gotten.\n\nAnd our parents indeed have, with the assistance of the gods, given\nus our life; but to live well comes to us from reason, which we have\nlearned from the philosophers, which favors law and justice, and\nrestrains our concupiscence. Now to live well is to live sociably,\nfriendly, temperately, and justly; of all which conditions they leave\nus not one, who cry out that man's sovereign good lies in his belly, and\nthat they would not purchase all the virtues together at the expense of\na cracked farthing, if pleasure were totally and on every side removed\nfrom them. And in their discourses concerning the soul and the gods,\nthey hold that the soul perishes when it is separated from the body, and\nthat the gods concern not themselves in our affairs. Thus the Epicureans\nreproach the other philosophers, that by their wisdom they bereave man\nof his life; whilst the others on the contrary accuse them of teaching\nmen to live degenerately and like beasts.\n\nNow these things are scattered here and there in the writings of\nEpicurus, and dispersed through all his philosophy. But this Colotes, by\nhaving extracted from them certain pieces and fragments of discourses,\ndestitute of any arguments whatever to render them credible and\nintelligible, has composed his book, being like a shop or cabinet of\nmonsters and prodigies; as you better know than any one else, because\nyou have always in your hands the works of the ancients. But he seems to\nme, like the Lydian, to open not only one gate against himself, but\nto involve Epicurus also in many and those the greatest doubts and\ndifficulties. For he begins with Democritus, who receives of him an\nexcellent and worthy reward for his instruction; it being certain that\nEpicurus for a long time called himself a Democritean, which as well\nothers affirm, as Leonteus, a principal disciple of Epicurus, who in\na letter which he writ to Lycophron says, that Epicurus honored\nDemocritus, because he first attained, though a little at a distance,\nthe right and sound understanding of the truth, and that in general all\nthe treatise concerning natural things was called Democritean, because\nDemocritus was the first who happened upon the principles and met with\nthe primitive foundations of Nature. And Metrodorus says openly of\nphilosophy, If Democritus had not gone before and taught the way,\nEpicurus had never attained to wisdom. Now if it be true, as Colotes\nholds, that to live according to the opinions of Democritus is not to\nlive, Epicurus was then a fool in following Democritus, who led him to a\ndoctrine which taught him not to live.\n\nNow the first thing he lays to his charge is, that, by supposing\neverything to be no more individual than another, he wholly confounds\nhuman life. But Democritus was so far from having been of this opinion,\nthat he opposed Protagoras the philosopher who asserted it, and writ\nmany excellent arguments concluding against him, which this fine fellow\nColotes never saw nor read, nor yet so much as dreamed of; but deceived\nhimself by misunderstanding a passage which is in his works, where he\ndetermines that [Greek omitted] is no more than [Greek omitted], naming\nin that place the body by [Greek omitted], and the void by [Greek\nomitted], and meaning that the void has its own proper nature and\nsubsistence, as well as the body.\n\nBut he who is of opinion that nothing has more of one nature than\nanother makes use of a sentence of Epicurus, in which he says that all\nthe apprehensions and imaginations given us by the senses are true. For\nif of two saying, the one, that the wine is sour, and the other, that it\nis sweet, neither of them shall be deceived by his sensation, how shall\nthe wine be more sour than sweet? And we may often see that some men\nusing one and the same bath find it to be hot, and others find it to be\ncold; because those order cold water to be put into it, as these do hot.\nIt is said that, a certain lady going to visit Berenice, wife to\nKing Deiotarus, as soon as ever they approached each other, they both\nimmediately turned their backs, the one, as it seemed, not being able to\nbear the smell of perfume, nor the other of butter. If, then, the sense\nof one is no truer than the sense of another, it is also probable, that\nwater is no more cold than hot, nor sweet ointment or butter better or\nworse scented one than the other. For if any one shall say that it seems\nthe one to one, and the other to another, he will, before he is aware,\naffirm that they are both the one and the other.\n\nAnd as for these symmetries and proportions of the pores, or little\npassages in the organs of the senses, about which they talk so much,\nand those different mixtures of seeds, which, they say, being dispersed\nthrough all savors, odors, and colors, move the senses of different\npersons to perceive different qualities, do they not manifestly drive\nthem to this, that things are no more of one nature than another? For to\npacify those who think the sense is deceived and lies because they see\ncontrary events and passions in such as use the same objects, and to\nsolve this objection, they teach,--that when almost everything was\nconfused and mixed up together, since it has been arranged by Nature\nthat one thing shall fit another thing, it was not the contact or the\napprehension of the same quality nor were all parts affected in the same\nway by what was influencing them. But those only coalesced with anything\nto which they had a characteristic, symmetrical in a corresponding\nproportion; so that they are in error so obstinately to insist that a\nthing is either good or bad, white or not white, thinking to establish\ntheir own senses by destroying those of others; whereas they ought\nneither to combat the senses,--because they all touch some quality,\neach one drawing from this confused mixture, as from a living and large\nfountain, what is suitable and convenient,--nor to pronounce of the\nwhole, by touching only the parts, nor to think that all ought to be\naffected after one and the same manner by the same thing, seeing\nthat one is affected by one quality and faculty of it, and another\nby another. Let us investigate who those men are which bring in this\nopinion that things are not more of one quality than another, if they\nare not those who affirm that every sensible object is a mixture,\ncompounded of all sorts of qualities, like a mixture of new wine\nfermenting, and who confess that all their rules are lost and their\nfaculty of judging quite gone, if they admit any sensible object that is\npure and simple, and do not make each one thing to be many?\n\nSee now to this purpose, what discourse and debate Epicurus makes\nPolyaenus to have with him in his Banquet concerning the heat of wine.\nFor when he asked, \"Do you, Epicurus, say, that wine does not heat?\"\nsome one answered, \"It is not universally to be affirmed that wine\nheats.\" And a little after: \"For wine seems not to be universally a\nheater; but such a quantity may be said to heat such a person.\" And\nagain subjoining the cause, to wit, the compressions and disseminations\nof the atoms, and having alleged their commixtures and conjunctions\nwith others when the wine comes to be mingled in the body, he adds this\nconclusion: \"It is not universally to be said that wine is endued with a\nfaculty of heating; but that such a quantity may heat such a nature and\none so disposed, while such a quantity to such a nature is cooling.\nFor in such a mass there are such natures and complexions of which cold\nmight be composed, and which, united with others in proper measure,\nwould yield a refrigerative virtue. Wherefore some are deceived, who\nsay that wine is universally a heater; and others, who say that it is\nuniversally a cooler.\" He then who says that most men are deceived and\nerr, in holding that which is hot to be heating and that which is cold\nto be cooling, is himself in an error, unless he should allow that his\nassertion ends in the doctrine that one thing is not more of one nature\nthan another. He farther adds afterwards that oftentimes wine entering\ninto a body brings with it thither neither a calefying nor refrigerating\nvirtue, but, the mass of the body being agitated and disturbed, and\na transposition made of the parts, the heat-effecting atoms being\nassembled together do by their multitude cause a heat and inflammation\nin the body, and sometimes on the contrary disassembling themselves\ncause a refrigeration.\n\nBut it is moreover wholly evident, that we may employ this argument to\nall those things which are called and esteemed bitter, sweet, purging,\ndormitive, and luminous, not any one of them having an entire and\nperfect quality to produce such effects, nor to act rather than to be\nacted on when they are in the bodies, but being there susceptible,\nof various temperatures and differences. For Epicurus himself, in\nhis Second Book against Theophrastus, affirming that colors are not\nconnatural to bodies, but are engendered there according to certain\nsituations and positions with respect to the sight of man, says: \"For\nthis reason a body is no more colored than destitute of color.\" And a\nlittle above he writes thus, word for word: \"But apart from this, I\nknow not how a man may say that those bodies which are in the dark have\ncolor; although very often, an air equally dark being spread about them,\nsome distinguish diversities of colors, others perceive them not through\nthe weakness of their sight. And moreover, going into a dark house or\nroom, we at our first entrance see no color, but after we have stayed\nthere awhile, we do. Wherefore we are to say that every body is not more\ncolored than not colored. Now, if color is relative and has its being in\nregard to something else, so also then is white, and so likewise blue;\nand if colors are so, so also are sweet and bitter. So that it may truly\nbe affirmed of every quality, that it cannot more properly be said\nto exist than not to exist. For to those who are in a certain manner\ndisposed, they will be; but to those who are not so disposed, they will\nnot be.\" Colotes therefore has bedashed and bespattered himself and\nhis master with that dirt, in which he says those lie who maintain that\nthings are not more of one quality than another.\n\nBut is it in this alone, that this excellent man shows himself--\n\n     To others a physician, whilst himself\n     Is full of ulcers?\n     (Euripides, Frag. 1071.)\n\nNo indeed; but yet much farther in his second reprehension, without any\nway minding it, he drives Epicurus and Democritus out of this life. For\nhe affirms that the statement of Democritus--that the atoms are to the\nsenses color by a certain human law or ordinance, that they are by the\nsame law sweetness, and by the same law concretion--is at war with our\nsenses, and that he who uses this reason and persists in this opinion\ncannot himself imagine whether he is living or dead. I know not how to\ncontradict this discourse; but this I can boldly affirm, that this is\nas inseparable from the sentences and doctrines of Epicurus as they say\nfigure and weight are from atoms. For what is it that Democritus says?\n\"There are substances, in number infinite, called atoms (because\nthey cannot be divided), without difference, without quality, and\npassibility, which move, being dispersed here and there, in the infinite\nvoidness; and that when they approach one another, or meet and are\nconjoined, of such masses thus heaped together, one appears water,\nanother fire, another a plant, another a man; and that all things are\nthus properly atoms (as he called them), and nothing else; for there is\nno generation from what does not exist; and of those things which are\nnothing can be generated, because these atoms are so firm, that they can\nneither change, alter, nor suffer; wherefore there cannot be made color\nof those things which are without color, nor nature or soul of those\nthings which are without quality and impassible.\" Democritus then is\nto be blamed, not for confessing those things that happen upon his\nprinciples, but for supposing principles upon which such things happen.\nFor he should not have supposed immutable principles; or having supposed\nthem, he should have seen that the generation of all quality is taken\naway; but having seen the absurdity, to deny it is most impudent. But\nEpicurus says, that he supposes the same principles with Democritus, but\nthat he says not that color, sweet, white, and other qualities, are\nby law and ordinance. If therefore NOT TO SAY is the same as NOT TO\nCONFESS, he does merely what he is wont to do. For it is as when, taking\naway divine Providence, he nevertheless says that he leaves piety and\ndevotion towards the gods; and when, choosing friendship for the sake\nof pleasure, that he suffers most grievous pains for his friends; and\nsupposing the universe to be infinite, that he nevertheless takes not\naway high and low.... Indeed having taken the cup, one may drink what\nhe pleases, and return the rest. But in reasoning one ought chiefly\nto remember this wise apothegm, that where the principles are not\nnecessary, the ends and consequences are necessary. It was not\nthen necessary for him to suppose or (to say better) to steal from\nDemocritus, that atoms are the principles of the universe; but having\nsupposed this doctrine, and having pleased and glorified himself in the\nfirst probable and specious appearances of it, he must afterwards also\nswallow that which is troublesome in it, or must show how bodies which\nhave not any quality can bring all sorts of qualities to others only by\ntheir meetings and joining together. As--to take that which comes next\nneither had heat when they came, nor are become hot after their being\njoined together? For the one presupposes that they had some quality, and\nthe other that they were fit to receive it. And you affirm, that neither\nthe one nor the other must be said to be congruous to atoms, because\nthey are incorruptible.\n\nHow then? Do not Plato, Aristotle, and Xenocrates produce gold from\nthat which is not gold, and stone from that which is not stone, and many\nother things from the four simple first bodies? Yes indeed; but with\nthose bodies immediately concur also the principles for the generation\nof everything, bringing with them great contributions, that is, the\nfirst qualities which are in them; then, when they come to assemble and\njoin in one the dry with the moist, the cold with the hot, and the solid\nwith the soft,--that is, active bodies with such as are fit to suffer\nand receive every alteration and change,--then is generation wrought by\npassing from one temperature to another. Whereas the atom, being alone,\nis alone, is deprived and destitute of all quality and generative\nfaculty, and when it comes to meet with the others, it can make only a\nnoise and sound because of its hardness and firmness, but nothing more.\nFor they always strike and are stricken, not being able by this means\nto compose or make an animal, a soul, or a nature, nay, not so much as\na mass or heap of themselves; for that as they beat upon one another, so\nthey fly back again asunder.\n\nBut Colotes, as if he were speaking to some ignorant and unlettered\nking, again attacks Empedocles for expressing the same thought:--\n\n     I've one thing more to say.  'Mongst mortals there\n     No Nature is; nor that grim thing men fear\n     So much, called death.  There only happens first\n     A mixture, and mixt things asunder burst\n     Again, when them disunion does befall.\n     And this is that which men do Nature call.\n\nFor my part, I do not see how this is repugnant and contrary to life or\nliving, especially amongst those who hold that there is no generation\nof that which is not, nor corruption of that which is, but that the\nassembling and union of the things which are is called generation, and\ntheir dissolution and disunion named corruption and death. For that he\ntook Nature for generation, and that this is his meaning, he has himself\ndeclared, when he opposed Nature to death. And if they neither live nor\ncan live who place generation in union and death in disunion, what else\ndo these Epicureans? Yet Empedocles, gluing, (as it were) and conjoining\nthe elements together by heats, softnesses, and humidifies, gives them\nin some sort a mixtion and unitive composition; but these men who hunt\nand drive together the atoms, which they affirm to be immutable and\nimpassible, compose nothing proceeding from them, but indeed make many\nand continual percussions of them.\n\nFor the interlacement, hindering the dissolution, more and more augments\nthe collision and concussion; so that there is neither mixtion nor\nadhesion and conglutination, but only a discord and combat, which\naccording to them is called generation. And if the atoms do now recoil\nfor a moment by reason of the shock they have given, and then return\nagain after the blow is past, they are above double the time absent from\none another, without either touching or approaching, so as nothing can\nbe made of them, not even so much as a body without a soul. But as for\nsense, soul, understanding, and prudence, there is not any man who can\nin the least conceive or imagine how it is possible they should be made\nin a voidness, and atoms which neither when separate and apart have\nany quality, nor any passion or alteration when they are assembled and\njoined together, especially seeing this their meeting together is not\nan incorporation or congress, making a mixture or coalition, but rather\npercussions and repercussions. So that, according to the doctrine of\nthese people, life is taken away, and the existence of an animal denied,\nsince they posit principles void, impassible, godless, and soulless, and\nsuch as cannot allow or receive any mixture or commingling whatever.\n\nHow then is it, that they admit and allow Nature, soul, and living\ncreature? Even in the same manner as they do an oath, prayer, and\nsacrifice, and the adoration of the gods. Thus they adore by word and\nmouth, only naming and feigning that which by their principles they\ntotally take away and abolish. If now they call that which is born\nNature, and that which is engendered generation,--as those who are\naccustomed to call wood wood-work and the voices that accord and sound\ntogether symphony,--whence came it into his mind to object these words\nagainst Empedocles? \"Why,\" says he, \"do we tire ourselves in taking such\ncare of ourselves, in desiring and longing after certain things, and\nshunning and avoiding others? For we neither are ourselves, nor do we\nlive by making use of others.\" But be of good cheer, my dear little\nColotes, may one perhaps say to him: there is none who hinders you\nfrom taking care of yourself by teaching that the nature of Colotes\nis nothing else but Colotes himself, or who forbids you to make use of\nthings (now things with you are pleasures) by showing that there is no\nnature of tarts and marchpanes, of sweet odors, or of venereal delights,\nbut that there are tarts, marchpanes, perfumes, and women. For neither\ndoes the grammarian who says that the \"strength of Hercules\" is Hercules\nhimself deny the being of Hercules; nor do those who say that symphonies\nand roofings are but absolute derivations affirm that there are neither\nsounds nor timbers; since also there are some who, taking away the soul\nand intelligence, do not yet seem to take away either living or being\nintelligent.\n\nAnd when Epicurus says that the nature of things is to be found in\nbodies and their place, do we so comprehend him as if he meant that\nNature were something else than the things which are, or as if\nhe insinuated that it is merely the things which are, and nothing\nelse?--as, to wit, he is wont to call voidness itself the nature of\nvoidness, and the universe, by Jupiter, the nature of the universe. And\nif any one should thus question him; What sayst thou, Epicurus, that\nthis is voidness, and that the nature of voidness? No, by Jupiter, would\nhe answer; but this transference of names is in use by law and custom.\nI grant it is. Now what has Empedocles done else, but taught that Nature\nis nothing else save that which is born, and death no other thing but\nthat which dies? But as the poets very often, forming as it were an\nimage, say thus in figurative language,\n\n     Strife, tumult, noise, placed by some angry god,\n     Mischief, and malice there had their abode;\n     (\"Iliad,\" xvii. 525.)\n\nso do some authors attribute generation and corruption to things that\nare contracted together and dissolved. But so far has he been from\nstirring and taking away that which is, or contradicting that which\nevidently appears, that he casts not so much as one single word out of\nthe accustomed use; but taking away all figurative fraud that might\nhurt or endamage things, he again restored the ordinary and useful\nsignification to words in these verses:--\n\n     When from mixed elements we sometimes see\n     A man produced, sometimes a beast, a tree,\n     Or bird, this birth and geniture we name;\n     But death, when this so well compacted frame\n     And juncture is dissolved.\n\nAnd yet I myself say that Colotes, though he alleged these verses, did\nnot understand that Empedocles took not away men, beasts, trees, or\nbirds, which he affirmed to be composed of the elements mixed together;\nand that, by teaching how much they are deceived who call this\ncomposition Nature and life, and this dissolution unhappy destruction\nand miserable death, he did not abrogate the using of the customary\nexpressions in this respect.\n\nAnd it seems to me, indeed, that Empedocles did not aim in this place at\nthe disturbing the common manner of expression, but that he really, as\nit has been said, had a controversy about generation from things that\nhave no being, which some call Nature. Which he manifestly shows by\nthese verses:--\n\n     Fools, and of little thought, we well may deem\n     Those, who so silly are as to esteem\n     That what ne'er was may now engendered be,\n     And that what is may perish utterly.\n\nFor these are the words of one who cries loud enough to those which have\nears, that he takes not away generation, but procreation from nothing;\nnor corruption, but total destruction that is, reduction to nothing.\nFor to him who would not so savagely and foolishly but more gently\ncalumniate, the following verses might give a colorable occasion of\ncharging Empedocles with the contrary, when he says:--\n\n     No prudent man can e'er into his mind\n     Admit that, whilst men living here on earth\n     (Which only life they call) both fortunes find,\n     They being have, but that before the birth\n     They nothing were, nor shall be when once dead.\n\nFor these are not the expressions of a man who denies those that are\nborn to be, but rather of him who holds those to be that are not yet\nborn or that are already dead. And Colotes also does not altogether\naccuse him of this, but says that according to his opinion we shall\nnever be sick, never wounded. But how is it possible, that he who\naffirms men to have being both before their life and after their death,\nand during their life to find both fortunes (or to be accompanied both\nby good and evil), should not leave them the power to suffer? Who then\nare they, O Colotes, that are endued with this privilege never to be\nwounded, never to be sick? Even you yourselves, who are composed of\natoms and voidness, neither of which, you say, has any sense. Now there\nis no great hurt in this; but the worst is, you have nothing left that\ncan cause you pleasure, seeing an atom is not capable to receive those\nthings which are to effect it, and voidness cannot be affected by them.\n\nBut because Colotes would, immediately after Democritus, seem to inter\nand bury Parmenides, and I have passed over and a little postponed his\ndefence, to bring in between them that of Empedocles, as seeming to\nbe more coherent and consequent to the first reprehensions, let us now\nreturn to Parmenides. Him, then, does Colotes accuse of having broached\nand set abroad certain shameful and villanous sophistries; and yet by\nthese his sophisms he has neither rendered friendship less honorable,\nnor voluptuousness or the desire of pleasures more audacious and\nunbridled. He has not taken from honesty its attractive property or its\nbeing venerable or recommendable of itself, nor has he disturbed the\nopinions we ought to have of the gods. And I do not see how, by saying\nthat the All (or the universe) is one, he hinders or obstructs our\nliving. For when Epicurus himself says that the All is infinite, that it\nis neither engendered nor perishable, that it can neither increase\nnor be diminished, he speaks of the universe as of one only thing. And\nhaving in the beginning of his treatise concerning this matter said,\nthat the nature of those things which have being consists of bodies and\nof vacuum, he makes a division (as it were) of one thing into two parts,\none of which has in reality no subsistence, being, as you yourselves\nterm it, impalpable, void, and incorporeal; so that by this means, even\nwith you also, all comes to be one; unless you desire, in speaking of\nvoidness, to use words void of sense, and to combat the ancients, as if\nyou were fighting against a shadow.\n\nBut these atomical bodies, you will say, are, according to the opinion\nof Epicurus, infinite in number, and everything which appears to us is\ncomposed of them. See now, therefore, what principles of generation\nyou suppose, infinity and voidness; one of which, to wit, voidness, is\ninactive, impassible, and incorporeal; the other, to wit, infinity, is\ndisorderly, unreasonable, and unintelligible, dissolving and confounding\nitself, because it cannot for its multitude be contained, circumscribed,\nor limited. But Parmenides has neither taken away fire, nor water, nor\nprecipices, nor yet cities (as Colotes says) which are inhabited as\nwell in Europe as in Asia; since he has both constructed an order of the\nworld, and mixing the elements, to wit, light and dark, does of them and\nby them arrange and finish all things that appear in the world. For he\nhas written very largely of the earth, heaven, sun, moon, and stars, and\nhas spoken of the generation of man; and being, as he was, an ancient\nauthor in physiology, and one who in writing sought to save his own\nand not to destroy another's doctrine, he has overlooked none of the\nessential things in Nature. Moreover, Plato, and before him Socrates\nhimself, understood that in Nature there is one part subject to opinion,\nand another subject to intelligence. As for that which is subject to\nopinion, it is always unconstant, wandering, and carried away with\nseveral passions and changes, liable to diminution and increase, and to\nbe variously disposed to various men, and not always appearing after one\nmanner even to the same individual. But as to the intelligible part, it\nis quite of another kind,\n\n     Constant, entire, and still engenerable,\n\nas himself says, always like to itself, and perdurable in its being.\n\nHere Colotes, sycophant-like, catching at his expressions and drawing\nthe discourse from things to words, flatly affirms that Parmenides in\none word destroys the existence of all things by supposing ENS (or that\nwhich is) to be one. But, on the contrary, he takes away neither the one\nnor the other part of Nature; but rendering to each of them what belongs\nto it and is convenient for it, he places the intelligible in the idea\nof one and of \"that which is,\" calling it ENS because it is eternal and\nincorruptible, and one because it is always like itself and admits no\ndiversity. And as for that part which is sensible, he places it in the\nrank of uncertain, disorderly, and always moving. Of which two parts, we\nmay see the distinct judgment:--\n\n     One certain truth and sincere knowledge is,\n\nas regarding that which is intelligible, and always alike and of the\nsame sort;\n\n     The other does on men's opinions rest,\n     Which breed no true belief within our breast,\n\nbecause it is conversant in things which receive all sorts of changes,\npassions, and inequalities. Now how he could have left sense and\nopinion, if he had not also left any sensible and opinable object, it\nis impossible for any man to say. But because to that which truly IS\nit appertains to continue in its being, and because sensible things\nsometimes are, sometimes are not, continually passing from one being to\nanother and perpetually changing their state, he thought they required\nsome other name than that of ENTIA, or things which always are. This\nspeech therefore concerning ENS (or that which is), that it should be\nbut one, is not to take away the plurality of sensible things, but to\nshow how they differ from that which is intelligible. Which difference\nPlato in his discussion of Ideas more fully declaring, has thereby\nafforded Colotes an opportunity of cavilling.\n\nTherefore it seems not unfitting to me to take next into our\nconsideration, as it were all in a train, what he has also said against\nhim. But first let us contemplate a little the diligence--together with\nthe manifold and profound knowledge--of this our philosopher, who says,\nthat Aristotle, Xenocrates, Theophrastus, and all the Peripateties\nhave followed these doctrines of Plato. For in what corner of the\nuninhabitable world have you, O Colotes, written your book, that,\ncomposing all these accusations against such personages, you never have\nlighted upon their works, nor have taken into your hands the books of\nAristotle concerning Heaven and the Soul, nor those of Theophrastus\nagainst the Naturalists, nor the Zoroaster of Heraclides, nor his books\nof Hell, nor that of Natural Doubts and Difficulties, nor the book of\nDicaearchus concerning the Soul; in all which books they are in the\nhighest degree contradictory and repugnant to Plato about the principal\nand greatest points of natural philosophy? Nay, Strato himself, the very\nhead and prince of the other Peripatetics, agrees not in many things\nwith Aristotle, and holds opinions altogether contrary to Plato,\nconcerning motion, the understanding, the soul, and generation. In fine,\nhe says that the world is not an animal, and that what is according to\nNature follows what is according to Fortune; for that Chance gave\nthe beginning, and so every one of the natural effects was afterwards\nfinished.\n\nNow as to the ideas,--for which he quarrels with Plato,--Aristotle,\nby moving this matter at every turn, and alleging all manner of doubts\nconcerning them, in his Ethics, in his Physics, and in his Exoterical\nDialogues seems to some rather obstinately than philosophically to have\ndisputed against these doctrines, as having proposed to himself the\ndebasing and undervaluing of Plato's philosophy; so far he was from\nfollowing it. What an impudent rashness then is this, that having\nneither seen nor understood what these persons have written and what\nwere their opinions, he should go and devise such things as they never\nimagined; and persuading himself that he reprehends and refutes others,\nhe should produce a proof, written with his own hand, arguing and\nconvincing himself of ignorance, licentiousness, and shameful impudence,\nin saying that those who contradict Plato agree with him, and that those\nwho oppose him follow him.\n\nPlato, says he, writes that horses are in vain by us considered horses,\nand men men. And in which of Plato's commentaries has he found this\nhidden? For as to us, we read in all his books, that horses are horses,\nthat men are men, and that fire is by him esteemed fire, because he\nholds that every one of these things is sensible and subject to opinion.\nBut this Colotes, as if he were not a hair's breadth distance from\nwisdom, takes it to be one and the same thing to say, \"Man is not\" and\n\"Man is a NON ENS.\"\n\nNow to Plato there seems to be a wonderful great difference between\nnot being at all and being a NON ENS; because the first imports an\nannihilation and abolishment of all substance, and the other shows the\ndiversity there is between that which is participated and that which\nparticipates. Which diversity those who came after distinguished only\ninto the difference of genus and species, and certain common and proper\nqualities or accidents, as they are called, but ascended no higher,\nfalling into more logical doubts and difficulties. Now there is the\nsame proportion between that which is participated and that which\nparticipates, as there is between the cause and the matter, the original\nand the image, the faculty and the result. Wherein that which is by\nitself and always the same principally differs from that which is by\nanother and never remains in one and the same manner; because the one\nnever was nor ever shall be non-existent, and is therefore totally and\nessentially an ENS; but to the other that very being, which it has not\nof itself but happens to take by participation from another, does not\nremain firm and constant, but it goes out of it by its imbecility,--the\nmatter always gliding and sliding about the form, and receiving several\nfunctions and changes in the image of the substance, so that it is\ncontinually moving and shaking. As therefore he who says that the image\nof Plato is not Plato takes not away the sense and substance of the\nimage, but shows the difference of that which is of itself from that\nwhich is only in regard to some other, so neither do they take away\nthe nature, use, or sense of men, who affirm that every one of us, by\nparticipating in a certain common substratum, that is, in the idea, is\nbecome the image of that which afforded the likeness for our generation.\nFor neither does he who says that a red-hot iron is not fire, or that\nthe moon is not the sun, but, as Parmenides has it,\n\n     A torch which round the earth by night\n     Does bear about a borrowed light,\n\ntake away therefore the use of iron, or the nature of the moon. But if\nhe should deny it to be a body, or affirm that it is not illuminated,\nhe would then contradict the senses, as one who admitted neither body,\nanimal, generation, nor sense. But he who by his opinion imagines that\nthese things subsist only by participation, and reflects how far remote\nand distant they are from that which always is and which communicates\nto them their being, does not reject the sensible, but affirms that the\nintelligible is; nor does he take away and abolish the results which\nare wrought and appear in us; but he shows to those who follow him that\nthere are other things, firmer and more stable than these in respect\nof their essence, because they are neither engendered, nor perish,\nnor suffer anything; and he teaches them, more purely touching the\ndifference, to express it by names, calling these [Greek omitted] or\n[Greek omitted] (THINGS THAT HAVE BEING), and those [Greek omitted]\nor FIENTIA (THINGS ENGENDERED). And the same also usually befalls\nthe moderns; for they deprive many--and those great things--of the\nappellation of ENS or BEING; such as are voidness, time, place, and\nsimply the entire genus of things spoken, in which are comprised all\nthings true. For these things, they say, are not ENTIA but SOME\nTHINGS; and they perpetually treat of them in their lives and in their\nphilosophy, as of things having subsistence and existence.\n\nBut I would willingly ask this our fault-finder, whether themselves do\nnot in their affairs perceive this difference, by which some things\nare permanent and immutable in their substances,--as they say of their\natoms, that they are at all times and continually after one and the\nsame manner, because of their impassibility and hardness,--but that\nall compound things are fluxible, changeable, generated, and perishing;\nforasmuch as infinite images are always departing and going from them,\nand infinite others as it is probable, repair to them from the ambient\nair, filling up what was diminished from the mass, which is much\ndiversified and transvasated, as it were, by this change, since those\natoms which are in the very bottom of the said mass can never cease\nstirring and reciprocally beating upon one another; as they themselves\naffirm. There is then in things such a diversity of substance. But\nEpicurus is in this wiser and more learned than Plato, that he calls\nthem all equally ENTIA,--to wit, the impalable voidness, the solid and\nresisting body, the principles, and the things composed of them,--and\nthinks that the eternal participates of the common substance with that\nwhich is generated, the immortal with the corruptible, and the natures\nthat are impassible, perdurable, unchangeable, and that can never fall\nfrom their being, with those which have their essence in suffering and\nchanging, and can never continue in one and the same state. But though\nPlato had with all the justness imaginable deserved to be condemned\nfor having offended in this, yet should he have been sentenced by these\ngentlemen, who use Greek more elegantly and discourse more correctly\nthan he, only as having confounded the terms, and not as having taken\naway the things and driven life from us, because he named them FIENTIA\n(or things engendered), and not ENTIA (things that have being), as these\nmen do.\n\nBut because we have passed over Socrates, who should have come next\nafter Parmenides, we must now turn back our discourse to him. Him\ntherefore has Colotes begun at the very first to remove, as the\ncommon proverb has it, from the sacred line; and having mentioned\nhow Chaerephon brought from Delphi an oracle, well known to us all,\nconcerning Socrates, he says thus: \"Now as to this narration of\nChaerephon's, because it is odious and entirely sophistical, we will\noverpass it.\" Plato, then, that we may say nothing of others, is also\nodious, who has committed it to writing; and the Lacedaemonians are yet\nmore odious, who keep the oracle of Lycurgus amongst their most ancient\nand most authentic inscriptions. The oracle also of Themistocles, by\nwhich he persuaded the Athenians to quit their town, and in a naval\nfight defeated the barbarous Xerxes, was a sophistical fiction. Odious\nalso were all the ancient legislators and founders of Greece who\nestablished the most part of their temples, sacrifices, and solemn\nfestivals by the answer of the Pythian Oracle. But if the oracle brought\nfrom Delphi concerning Socrates, a man ravished with a divine zeal to\nvirtue, by which he is styled and declared wise, is odious, fictitious,\nand sophistical, by what name shall we call your cries, noises, and\nshouts, your applauses, adorations and canonizations, with which you\nextol and celebrate him who incites and exhorts you to frequent\nand continual pleasures? For thus has he written in his epistle to\nAnaxarchus: \"I for my part incite and call you to continual pleasures,\nand not to vain and empty virtues, which have nothing but turbulent\nhopes of uncertain fruits.\" And yet Metrodorus, writing to Timarchus,\nsays: \"Let us do some extraordinarily excellent thing, not suffering\nourselves to be plunged in reciprocal affections, but retiring from this\nlow and terrestrial life, and elevating ourselves to the truly holy\nand divinely revealed ceremonies and mysteries of Epicurus.\" And even\nColotes himself, hearing one day Epicurus discoursing of natural things,\nfell suddenly at his feet and embraced his knees, as Epicurus himself,\nglorying in it, thus writes: \"For as if you had adored what we were then\nsaying, you were suddenly taken with a desire, proceeding not from any\nnatural cause, to come to us, prostrate yourself on the ground, embrace\nour knees, and use all those gestures to us which are ordinarily\npractised by those who adore and pray to the gods. So that you made\nus also,\" says he, \"reciprocally sanctify and adore you.\" Those, by\nJupiter, well deserve to be pardoned, who say, they would willingly give\nany money for a picture in which should be presented to the life this\nfine story of one lying prostrate at the knees and embracing the legs of\nanother, who mutually again adores him and makes his devout prayers to\nhim. Nevertheless this devout service, how well soever it was ordered\nand composed by Colotes, received not the condign fruit he expected; for\nhe was not declared wise; but it was only said to him: Go they ways, and\nwalk immortal; and understand that we also are in like manner immortal.\n\nThese men, knowing well in their consciences that they have used\nsuch foolish speeches, have had such motions, and such passions, dare\nnevertheless call others odious. And Colotes, having shown us these fine\nfirst-fruits and wise positions touching the natural senses,--that\nwe eat meat, and not hay or forage; and that when rivers are deep and\ngreat, we pass them in boats, but when shallow and easily fordable, on\nfoot,--cries out, \"You use vain and arrogant speeches, O Socrates; you\nsay one thing to those who come to discourse with you, and practise\nanother.\" Now I would fain know what these vain and arrogant speeches\nof Socrates were, since he ordinarily said that he knew nothing, that he\nwas always learning, and that he went inquiring and searching after\nthe truth. But if, O Colotes, you had happened on such expressions of\nSocrates as are those which Epicurus writ to Idomeneus, \"Send me then\nthe first-fruits for the entertainment of our sacred body, for ourself\nand for our children: for so it comes upon me to speak;\" what more\narrogant and insolent words could you have used? And yet that Socrates\nspake otherwise than he lived, you have wonderful proofs in his gests\nat Delium, at Potidaea, in his behavior during the time of the Thirty\nTyrants, towards Archelaus, towards the people of Athens, in his\npoverty, and in his death. For are not these things beseeming and\nanswerable to the doctrine of Socrates? They would indeed, good sir,\nhave been indubitable testimonies to show that he acted otherwise than\nhe taught, if, having proposed pleasure for the end of life, he had led\nsuch a life as this.\n\nThus much for the calumnies he has uttered against Socrates. Colotes\nbesides perceives not that he is himself found guilty of the same\noffences in regard to theory and practice which he objects against\nSocrates. For this is one of the sentences and propositions of Epicurus,\nthat none but the wise man ought irrevocably and unchangeably to be\npersuaded of anything. Since then Colotes, even after those adorations\nhe performed to Epicurus, became not one of the sages, let him first\nmake these questions and interrogatories his own: How is it that being\nhungry he eats meat and not hay, and that he puts a robe about his body\nand not about a pillar, since he is not indubitably persuaded either\nthat a robe is a robe or that meat is meat? But if he not only does\nthese things, but also passes not over rivers, when they are great and\nhigh, on foot, and flies from wolves and serpents, not being irrevocably\npersuaded that any of these things is such as it seems, but yet doing\neverything according to what appears to him; so likewise the opinion of\nSocrates concerning the senses was no obstacle to him, but that he might\nin like manner make use of things as they appeared to him. For it is not\nlikely that bread appeared bread and hay hay to Colotes, because he had\nread those holy rules of Epicurus which came down from heaven, while\nSocrates on account of his vanity imagined that hay was bread and bread\nhay. For these wise men use better opinions and reasons than we; but to\nhave sense, and to receive an impression from objects as they appear, is\ncommon as well to the ignorant as to the wise, as proceeding from causes\nwhere there needs not the discourse of reason. And the proposition which\naffirms that the natural senses are not perfect, nor certain enough to\ncause an entire belief, hinders not that everything may appear to us;\nbut leaving us to make use of our senses in our actions according to\nthat which appears, it permits us not so to give credit to them as if\nthey were exactly true and without error. For it is sufficient that in\nwhat is necessary and commodious for use there is nothing better. But as\nfor the science and knowledge which the soul of a philosopher desires to\nhave concerning everything, the senses have it not.\n\nBut as to this, Colotes will farther give us occasion to speak of\nit hereafter, for he brings this objection against several others.\nFurthermore, whereas he profusely derides and despises Socrates for\nasking what man is, and in a youthful bravery (as he terms it) affirming\nthat he was ignorant of it, it is manifest that he himself, who scoffs\nat it, never so much as thought of this matter; but Heraclitus on the\ncontrary, as having done some great and worthy thing, said, I have\nbeen seeking myself. And of the sentences that were written in Apollo's\ntemple at Delphi, the most excellent and most divine seems to have been\nthis, Know thyself. And this it was which gave Socrates an occasion and\nbeginning of doubting and inquiring into it, as Aristotle says in his\nPlatonics. And yet this appears to Colotes ridiculous and fit to be\nscoffed at. And I wonder that he derides not also his master himself,\nwho does as much whenever he writes concerning the substance of the soul\nand the creation of man. For if that which is compounded of both, as\nthey themselves hold,--of the body, to wit, and the soul,--is man, he\nwho searches into the nature of the soul consequently also searches into\nthe nature of man, beginning from his chiefest principle. Now that the\nsoul is very difficult to be comprehended by reason, and altogether\nincomprehensible by the exterior senses, let us not learn from Socrates,\nwho is a vainglorious and sophistical disputer, but let us take it from\nthese wise men, who, having forged and framed the substance of the soul\nof somewhat hot, spiritual, and aerial, as far as to the faculties of\nthe flesh, by which she gives heat, softness and strength to the body,\nproceed not to that which is the principal, but give over faint and\ntired by the way. For that by which she judges, remembers, loves,\nhates,--in a word, that which is prudent and rational, is,--say they,\nmade afterwards of I know not what nameless quality. Now we well know,\nthat this nameless thing is a confession of their shameful ignorance,\nwhilst they pretend they cannot name what they are not able to\nunderstand or comprehend. But let this, as they say, be pardoned them.\nFor it seems not to be a light and easy matter, which every one can at\nthe first attempt find out and attain to, but has retired itself to the\nbottom of some very remote place, and there lies obscurely concealed.\nSo that there is not, amongst so many words and terms as are in use, any\none that can explain or show it. Socrates therefore was not a fool\nor blockhead for seeking and searching what himself was; but they are\nrather to be thought shallow coxcombs, who inquire after any other thing\nbefore this, the knowledge of which is so necessary and so hard to find.\nFor how could he expect to gain the knowledge of other things, who has\nnot been able to comprehend the principal element even of himself?\n\nBut granting a little to Colotes, that there is nothing so vain,\nuseless, and odious as the seeking into one's self, let us ask him, what\nconfession of human life is in this, and how it is that a man cannot\ncontinue to live, when he comes once thus to reason and discourse in\nhimself: \"Go to now, what am I? Am I a composition, made up of soul and\nbody; or rather a soul, serving itself and making use of the body, as an\nhorseman using his horse is not a subject composed of horse and man?\nOr is every one of us the principal part of the soul, by which we\nunderstand, infer, and act; and are all the other parts, both of soul\nand body, only organs and utensils of this power? Or, to conclude, is\nthere no proper substance of the soul at all apart, but is only the\ntemperature and complexion of the body so disposed, that it has force\nand power to understand and live?\" But Socrates does not by these\nquestions overthrow human life, since all natural philosophers treat\nof the same matter. But those perhaps are the monstrous questions and\ninquiries that turn everything upside down, which are in Phaedrus,\n(Plato, \"Phaedrus,\" p. 230 A.) where he says, that every one ought\nto examine and consider himself, whether he is a savage beast, more\ncautelous, outrageous, and furious than ever was the monster Typhon; or\non the contrary, an animal more mild and gentle, partaking by Nature of\na certain divine portion, and such as is free from pride. Now by these\ndiscourses and reasonings he overturns not the life of man, but drives\nfrom it presumption and arrogance, and those haughty and extravagant\nopinions and conceits he has of himself. For this is that monster\nTyphon, which your teacher and master has made to be so great in you by\nhis warring against the gods and divine men.\n\nHaving done with Socrates and Plato, he next attacks Stilpo. Now as for\nthose his true doctrines and good discourses, by which he managed and\ngoverned himself, his country, his friends, and such kings and princes\nas loved him and esteemed him, he has not written a word; nor yet what\nprudence and magnanimity was in his heart, accompanied with meekness,\nmoderation, and modesty. But having made mention of one of those little\nsentences he was wont in mirth and raillery to object against the\nsophisters, he does, without alleging any reason against it or solving\nthe subtlety of the objection, stir up a terrible tragedy against\nStilpo, saying that the life of man is subverted by him, inasmuch as he\naffirms that one thing cannot be predicated of another. \"For how,\" says\nhe, \"shall we live, if we cannot style a man good, nor a man a captain,\nbut must separately name a man a man, good good, and a captain a\ncaptain; nor can say ten thousand horsemen, or a fortified town, but\nonly call horsemen horsemen, and ten thousand ten thousand, and so of\nthe rest?\" Now what man ever was there that lived the worse for this? Or\nwho is there that, hearing this discourse, does not immediately perceive\nand understand it to be the speech of a man who rallies gallantly, and\nproposes to others this logical question for the exercise of their wits?\nIt is not, O Colotes, a great and dangerous scandal not to call any man\ngood, or not to say ten thousand horsemen; but not to call God God,\nand not to believe him to be God,--as you and the rest do, who will not\nconfess that there is a Jupiter presiding over generation, or a Ceres\ngiving laws, or a Neptune nourishing the plants,--it is this separation\nof names that is pernicious, and fills our life with audaciousness and\nan atheistical contempt of the gods. When you pluck from the gods the\nnames and appellations that are tied to them, you abolish also the\nsacrifices, mysteries, processions, and feasts. For to whom shall we\noffer the sacrifices preceding the tilling of the ground? To whom those\nfor the obtaining of preservation? How shall we celebrate the Phosphoria\nor torch-festivals, the Bacchanals, and the ceremonies that go before\nmarriage, if we admit neither Bacchantes, gods of light, gods who\nprotect the sown field, nor preservers of the state? For this it is\nthat touches the principal and greatest points, being an error in\nthings,--not in words, in the structure of propositions, or use of\nterms.\n\nNow if these are the things that disturb and subvert human life, who are\nthere that more offend in speech than you? For you take utterly away\nthe whole category of namable things, which constitute the substance of\nlanguage; and leave only words and their accidental objects, while you\ntake away in the meantime the things particularly signfied by them, by\nwhich are wrought disciplines, doctrines, preconceptions, intelligences,\ninclination, and assent, which you hold to be nothing at all.\n\nBut as for Stilpo, thus his reasoning proceeds. \"If of a man we\npredicate good, and of an horse running, the predicate or thing\npredicated is not the same with the subject or that of which it is\npredicated, but the essential definition of man is one, and of good\nanother. And again, to be a horse differs from to be running. For being\nasked the definition of the one and of the other, we do not give the\nsame for them both; and therefore those err who predicate the one of\nthe other. For if good is the same with man, and to run the same with\na horse, how is good affirmed also of food and medicine, and again (by\nJupiter) to run of a lion and a dog? But if the predicate is different,\nthen we do not rightly say that a man is good, and a horse runs.\" Now\nif Stilpo is in this exorbitant and grossly mistaken, not admitting\nany copulation of such things as are in the subject, or affirmed of the\nsubject, with the subject itself; but holding that every one of them,\nif it is not absolutely one and the same thing with that to which it\nhappens or of which it is spoken, ought not to be spoken or affirmed of\nit,--no, not even as an accident; it is nevertheless manifest, that he\nwas only offended with some words, and opposed the usual and accustomed\nmanner of speaking, and not that he overthrew man's life, and turned his\naffairs upside down.\n\nColotes, then, having got rid of the old philosophers, turns to those of\nhis own time, but without naming any of them; though he would have done\nbetter either to have reproved by name these moderns, as he did the\nancients, or else to have named neither of them. But he who has so often\nemployed his pen against Socrates, Plato, and Parmenides, evidently\ndemonstrates that it is through cowardice he dares not attack the\nliving, and not for any modesty or reverence, of which he showed not\nthe least sign to those who were far more excellent than these. But his\nmeaning is, as I suspect, to assault the Cyrenaics first, and afterwards\nthe Academics, who are followers of Arcesilaus. For it was these who\ndoubted of all things; but those, placing the passions and imaginations\nin themselves, were of opinion that the belief proceeding from them is\nnot sufficient for the assuring and affirming of things but, as if it\nwere in the siege of a town, abandoning what is without, they have shut\nthemselves up in the passions, using only it seems, and not asserting\nit is, of things without. And therefore they cannot, as Colotes says\nof them, live or have the use of things. And then speaking comically of\nthem, he adds: \"These deny that there is a man, a horse, a wall; but say\nthat they themselves (as it were) become walls, horses, men,\" or \"take\non the images of walls, horses, or men.\" In which he first maliciously\nabuses the terms, as caluminators are usually wont to do. For though\nthese things follow from the sayings of the Cyrenaics, yet he ought to\nhave declared the fact as they themselves teach it. For they affirm that\nthings then become sweet, bitter, lightsome, or dark, when each thing\nhas in itself the natural unobstructed operation of one of these\nimpressions. But if honey is said to be sweet, an olive-branch bitter,\nhail cold, wine hot, and the nocturnal air dark, there are many beasts,\nthings, and men that testify the contrary. For some have an aversion for\nhoney, others feed on the branches of the olive-tree; some are scorched\nby hail, others cooled with wine; and there are some whose sight is\ndim in the sun but who see well by night. Wherefore opinion, containing\nitself within these sensations, remains safe and free from error; but\nwhen it goes forth and attempts to be curious in judging and pronouncing\nconcerning exterior things, it often deceives itself, and opposes\nothers, who from the same objects receive contrary sensations and\ndifferent imaginations.\n\nAnd Colotes seems properly to resemble those young children who are but\nbeginning to learn their letters. For, being accustomed to learn them\nwhere they see them in their own horn-books and primers, when they see\nthem written anywhere else, they doubt and are troubled; so those very\ndiscourses, which he praises and approves in the writings of Epicurus,\nhe neither understands nor knows again, when they are spoken by others.\nFor those who say that the sense is truly informed and moulded when\nthere is presented one image round and another broken, but nevertheless\npermit us not to pronounce that the tower is round and the oar broken,\nconfirm their own sensations and imaginations, but they will not\nacknowledge and confess that the things without are so affected. But\nas the Cyrenaics must say that they are imprinted with the figure of\na horse or of a wall, but refuse to speak of the horse or the wall; so\nalso it is necessary to say that the sight is imprinted with a figure\nround or with three unequal sides, and not that the tower is in that\nmanner triangular or round. For the image by which the sight is affected\nis broken; but the oar whence that image proceeds is not broken. Since,\nthen, there is a difference between the sensation and the external\nsubject, the belief must either remain in the sensation, or else--if\nit maintains the being in addition to the appearing--be reproved and\nconvinced of untruth. And whereas they cry out and are offended in\nbehalf of the sense, because the Cyrenaics say not that the thing\nwithout is hot, but that the effect made on the sense is such; is it not\nthe same with what is said touching the taste, when they say that the\nthing without is not sweet, but that some function and motion about\nthe sense is such? And for him who says that he has received the\napprehension of an human form, but perceives not whether it is a man,\nwhence has he taken occasion so to say? Is it not from those who affirm\nthat they receive an apprehension of a bowed figure and form, but that\nthe sight pronounces not that the thing which was seen is bowed or\nround, but that a certain image of it is such? Yes, by Jupiter, will\nsome one say; but I, going near the tower or touching the oar, will\npronounce and affirm that the one is straight and the other has many\nangles and faces; but he, when he comes near it, will confess that it\nseems and appears so to him, and no more. Yes, certainly, good sir, and\nmore than this, when he sees and observes the consequence, that every\nimagination is equally worthy of belief for itself, and none for\nanother; but that they are all in like condition. But this your opinion\nis quite lost, that all the imaginations are true and none false or to\nbe disbelieved, if you think that these ought to pronounce positively\nof that which is without, but those you credit no farther than that they\nare so affected. For if they are in equal condition as to their being\nbelieved, when they are near or when they are far off, it is just that\neither upon all of them, or else not upon these, should follow the\njudgment pronouncing that a thing is. But if there is a difference in\nthe being affected between those that are near and those that are far\noff, it is then false that one sense and imagination is not more express\nand evident than another. Therefore those they call attestations and\ncounter-attestations are nothing to the sense, but are concerned only\nwith opinion. So, if they would have us following these to pronounce\nconcerning exterior things, making being a judgment of opinion, and what\nappears an affection of sense, they transfer the judicature from which\nis totally true to that which often fails.\n\nBut how full of trouble and contradictions in respect of one another\nthese things are, what need is there to say at present? But the\nreputation of Arcesilaus, who was the best beloved and most esteemed of\nall the philosophers in his time, seems to have been no small eyesore to\nEpicurus; who says of him that delivering nothing peculiar to himself\nor of his own invention, he imprinted in illiterate men the opinion and\nesteem of his being very knowing and learned. Now Arcesilaus was so far\nfrom desiring any glory by being a bringer-in of new opinions, and from\narrogating to himself those of the ancients, that the sophisters of\nthat time blamed him for attributing to Socrates, Plato, Parmenides,\nand Heraclitus the doctrines concerning the retention of assent, and the\nincomprehensibility of things; having no need so to do, but only that\nhe might strengthen them and render them recommendable by ascribing them\nsuch illustrious personages. For this, therefore, thanks to Colotes, and\nto every one who declares that the academic doctrine was from a higher\ntimes derived to Arcesilaus. Now as for retention of assent and the\ndoubting of all things, not even those who have much labored in the\nmanner, and strained themselves to compose great books and large\ntreatises concerning it, were ever able to stir it; but bringing at last\nout of the Stoa itself the cessation from all actions, as the Gorgon to\nfrighten away the objections that came against them, they were at last\nquite tired and gave over. For they could not, what attempts and stirs\nsoever they made, obtain so much from the instinct by which the appetite\nis moved to act, as to suffer itself to be called an assent, or to\nacknowledge sense for the origin and principle of its propension, but it\nappeared of its own accord to present itself to act, as having no need\nto be joined with anything else. For against such adversaries the combat\nand dispute is lawful and just. And\n\n     Such words as you have spoke, the like you may\n     Expect to hear.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xx. 250.)\n\nFor to speak to Colotes of instinct and consent is, I suppose, all one\nas to play on the harp before an ass. But to those who can give ear\nand conceive, it is said that there are in the soul three sorts of\nmotions,--the imaginative, the appetitive, and the consenting. As to\nthe imaginative or the apprehension, it cannot be taken away, though one\nwould. For one cannot, when things approach, avoid being informed and\n(as it were) moulded by them, and receiving an impression from them. The\nappetite, being stirred up by the imaginative, effectually moves man to\nthat which is proper and agreeable to his nature, just as when there is\nmade a propension and inclination in the principal and reasonable part.\nNow those who withhold their assent and doubt of all things take\nnot away this, but make use of the appetition or instinct naturally\nconducting every man to that which seems convenient for him. What, then,\nis the only thing that they shun? That in which is bred falsehood and\ndeceit,--that is, opining, and haste in giving consent,--which is a\nyielding through weakness to that which appears, and has not any\ntrue utility. For action stands in need of two things, to wit, the\napprehension or imagination of what is agreeable to Nature, and the\ninstinct or appetition driving to that which is so imagined; of which,\nneither the one nor the other is repugnant to the retention of assent.\nFor reason withdraws us from opinion, and not from appetition or\nimagination. When, therefore, that which is delectable seems to us to be\nproper for us, there is no need of opinion to move and carry us to it,\nbut appetition immediately exerts itself, which is nothing else but the\nmotion and inclination of the soul.\n\nIt is their own axiom, that a man must only have sense and be flesh and\nblood and pleasure will appear to be good. Wherefore also it will seem\ngood to him who withholds his assent. For he also participates of sense,\nand is made of flesh and blood, and as soon as he has conceived an\nimagination of good, desires it and does all things that it may not\nescape from him; but as much as possibly he can, he will keep himself\nwith that which is agreeable to his nature, being drawn by natural and\nnot by geometrical constraints. For these goodly, gentle, and tickling\nmotions of the flesh are, without any teacher, attractive enough of\nthemselves--even as these men forget not to say--to draw even him who\nwill not in the least acknowledge and confess that he is softened and\nrendered pliable by them. \"But how comes it to pass,\" perhaps you will\nsay, \"that he who is thus doubtful and withholds his assent hastens not\naway to the mountain, instead of going to the bath? Or that, rising\nup to go forth into the market-place, he runs not his head against the\nwall, but takes his way directly to the door?\" Do you ask this, who\nhold all the senses to be infallible, and the apprehensions of the\nimagination certain and true? It is because the bath appears to him not\na mountain, but a bath; and the door seems not a wall, but a door;\nand the same is to be said of every other thing. For the doctrine of\nretention does not pervert the sense, nor by absurd passions and motions\nwork in it an alteration disturbing the imaginative faculty; but it\nonly takes away opinions, and for the rest, makes use of other things\naccording to their nature.\n\nBut it is impossible, you will say, not to consent to things that are\nevident; for to deny such things as are believed is more absurd than\nneither to deny nor affirm. Who then are they that call in question\nthings believed, and contend against things that are evident? They\nwho overthrow and take away divination, who say that there is not any\ngovernment of Divine Providence, who deny the sun and the moon--to whom\nall men offer sacrifices and whom they honor and adore--to be animated.\nAnd do not you take away that which is apparent to all the world, that\nthe young are contained in the nature of their parents? Do you not,\ncontrary to the sense of all men, affirm that there is no medium\nbetween pleasure and pain, saying that not to be in pain is to be in\nthe fruition of pleasure, that not to do is to suffer, and that not to\nrejoice is to be grieved?\n\nBut to let pass all the rest, what is more evident and more generally\nbelieved by all men, than that those who are seized with melancholy\ndistempers, and whose brain is troubled and whose wits are distracted,\ndo, when the fit is on them and their understanding altered and\ntransported, imagine that they see and hear things which they neither\nsee nor hear? Whence they frequently cry out:--\n\n\n     Women in black arrayed bear in their hands,\n     To burn mine eyes, torches and fiery brands.\n\nAnd again:--\n\n     See, in her arms she holds my mother dear.\n     (Euripides, \"Iphigenia in Tauris,\" 289.)\n\nThese, and many other illusions more strange and tragical than\nthese,--resembling those mormos and bugbears which they themselves laugh\nat and deride, as they are described by Empedocles to be, \"with sinuous\nfeet and undeveloped hands, bodied like ox and faced like man,\"--with\ncertain other prodigious and unnatural phantoms, these men have gathered\ntogether out of dreams and the alienations of distracted minds, and\naffirm that none of them is a deception of the sight, a falsity, or\ninconsistence; but that all these imaginations are true, being bodies\nand figures that come from the ambient air. What thing then is there so\nimpossible in Nature as to be doubted of, if it is possible to believe\nsuch reveries as these? For these men, supposing that such things as\nnever any mask-maker, potter, designer of wonderful images, or skilful\nand all-daring painter durst join together, to deceive or make sport for\nthe beholders, are seriously and in good earnest existent,--nay, which\nis more, affirming that, if they are not really so, all firmness of\nbelief, all certainty of judgment and truth, is forever gone,--do\nby these their suppositions and affirmations cast all things into\nobscurity, and bring fears into our judgments, and suspicions into\nour actions,--if the things which we apprehend, do, are familiarly\nacquainted with, and have at hand are grounded on the same imagination\nand belief with these furious, absurd, and extravagant fancies. For the\nequality which they suppose to be in all apprehensions rather derogates\nfrom the credit of such as are usual and rational, than adds any belief\nto those that are unusual and repugnant to reason. Wherefore we know\nmany philosophers who would rather and more willingly grant that no\nimagination is true than that all are so, and that would rather simply\ndisbelieve all the men they never had conversed with, all the things\nthey had not experimented, and all the speeches they had not heard\nwith their own ears, than persuade themselves that any one of these\nimaginations, conceived by these frantic, fanatical, and dreaming\npersons, is true. Since then there are some imaginations which may,\nand others which may not be rejected, it is lawful for us to retain\nour assent concerning them, though there were no other cause but this\ndiscordance, which is sufficient to work in us a suspicion of things,\nas having nothing certain and assured, but being altogether full of\nobscurity and perturbation. For in the disputes about the infinity of\nworlds and the nature of atoms and individuums and their inclinations,\nalthough they trouble and disturb very many, there is yet this comfort,\nthat none of all these things that are in question is near us, but\nrather every one of them is far remote from sense. But as to this\ndiffidence, perplexity, and ignorance concerning sensible things and\nimaginations, found even in our eyes, our ears, and our hands, what\nopinion does it not shock? What consent does it not turn upside down?\nFor if men neither drunk, intoxicated, nor otherwise disturbed in their\nsenses, but sober, sound in mind, and professedly writing of the truth\nand of the canons and rules by which to judge it, do in the most evident\npassions and motions of the senses set down either that which has no\nexistence for true, or that which is existent for false, it is not\nstrange that a man should be silent about all things, but rather that he\nassent to anything; nor is it incredible that he should have no judgment\nabout things which appear, but rather that he should have contrary\njudgments. For it is less to be wondered, that a man should neither\naffirm the one nor the other but keep himself in a mean between two\nopposite things, than that he should set down things repugnant and\ncontrary to one another. For he that neither affirms nor denies, but\nkeeps himself quiet, is less repugnant to him who affirms an opinion\nthan he who denies it, and to him who denies an opinion than he who\naffirms it. Now if it is possible to withhold one's assent concerning\nthese things, it is not impossible also concerning others, at least\naccording to your opinion, who say that one sense does not exceed\nanother, nor one imagination another.\n\nThe doctrine then of retaining the assent is not, as Colotes thinks,\na fable or an invention of rash and light-headed young men who please\nthemselves in babbling and prating; but a certain habit and disposition\nof men who desire to keep themselves from falling into error, not\nleaving the judgment at a venture to such suspected and inconstant\nsenses, nor suffering themselves to be deceived by those who hold\nthat in doubtful matters things which do not appear to the senses are\ncredible and ought to be believed, when they see so great obscurity and\nuncertainty in things which do appear. But the infinity you assert is a\nfable, and so indeed are the images you dream of: and he breeds in\nyoung men rashness and self-conceitedness who writ of Pythocles, not yet\neighteen years of age, that there was not in all Greece a better or more\nexcellent nature, that he admirably well expressed his convictions, and\nthat he was in other respects behaved like a women,--praying that all\nthese extraordinary endowments of the young man might not work him\nhatred and envy. But these are sophists and arrogant, who write so\nimpudently and proudly against great and excellent personages. I confess\nindeed, that Plato, Aristotle, Theophrastus and Democritus contradicted\nthose who went before them; but never durst any man besides Colotes set\nforth with such an insolent title as this against all at once.\n\nWhence it comes to pass that, like to such as have offended some\nDivinity, confessing his fault, he says thus towards the end of His\nbook: \"Those who have established laws and ordinances and instituted\nmonarchies and other governments in towns and cities, have placed human\nlife in great repose and security and delivered it from many troubles;\nand if any one should go about to take this away, we should lead the\nlife of savage beasts, and should be every one ready to eat up one\nanother as we meet.\" For these are the very words of Colotes, though\nneither justly nor truly spoken. For if any one, taking away the laws,\nshould leave us nevertheless the doctrines of Parmenides, Socrates,\nPlato, and Heraclitus, we should be far from mutually devouring one\nanother and leading the life of beasts. For we should fear dishonest\nthings, and should for honesty alone venerate justice, the gods our\nsuperiors, and magistrates, believing that we have spirits and daemons\nwho are the guardians and superintendents of human life, esteeming\nall the gold that is upon and within the earth not to be equivalent to\nvirtue; and doing that willingly by reason, as Xenocrates says, which\nwe now do by force and through fear of the law. When then will our life\nbecome savage, uncivilized, and bestial? When, the laws being taken\naway, there shall be left doctrines inciting men to pleasure; when the\nworld shall bethought not to be ruled and governed by Divine Providence;\nwhen those men shall be esteemed wise who spit at honesty if it is not\njoined with pleasure; and when such discourses and sentences as these\nshall be scoffed at and derided:--\n\n     For Justice has an eye which all things sees;\n\nand again:--\n\n     God near us stands, and views whate'er we do;\n\nand once more: \"God, as antiquity has delivered to holding the\nbeginning, middle, and end of the universe, makes a direct line, walking\naccording to Nature. After him follows Justice, a punisher of those who\nhave been deficient in their duties by transgressing the divine law.\"\n\nFor they who contemn these things as if they were fables, and think that\nthe sovereign good of man consists about the belly, and in those other\npassages by which pleasure is admitted, are such as stand in need of the\nlaw, and fear, and stripes, and some king, prince, or magistrate, having\nin his hand the sword of justice; to the end that they may not devour\ntheir neighbors through their gluttony, rendered confident by their\natheistical impiety. For this is the life of brutes, because brute\nbeasts know nothing better nor more honest than pleasure, understand not\nthe justice of the gods, nor revere the beauty of virtue; but if Nature\nhas bestowed on them any point of courage, subtlety, or activity, they\nmake use of it for the satisfaction of their fleshly pleasure and the\naccomplishment of their lusts. And the sapient Metrodorus believes that\nthis should be so, for he says: \"All the fine, subtle, and ingenious\ninventions of the soul have been found out for the pleasure and delight\nof the flesh, or for the hopes of attaining to it and enjoying it, and\nevery act which tends not to this end is vain and unprofitable.\" The\nlaws being by such discourses and philosophical reasons as these taken\naway, there wants nothing to a beast-like life but lions' paws, wolves'\nteeth, oxen's paunches, and camels' necks; and these passions and\ndoctrines do the beasts themselves, for want of speech and letters,\nexpress by their bellowings, neighings, and brayings, all their voice\nbeing for their belly and the pleasure of their flesh, which they\nembrace and rejoice in either present or future; unless it be perhaps\nsome animal which naturally takes delight in chattering and garrulity.\n\nNo sufficient praise therefore or equivalent to their deserts can be\ngiven those who, for the restraining of such bestial passions, have\nset down laws, established policy and government of state, instituted\nmagistrates and ordained good and wholesome laws. But who are they\nthat utterly confound and abolish this? Are they not those who withdraw\nthemselves and their followers from all part in the government? Are they\nnot those who say that the garland of tranquillity and a reposed life\nare far more valuable than all the kingdoms and principalities in the\nworld? Are they not those who declare that reigning and being a king is\na mistaking the path and straying from the right way of felicity? And\nthey write in express terms: \"We are to treat how a man may best keep\nand preserve the end of Nature, and how he may from the very beginning\navoid entering of his own free will and voluntarily upon offices of\nmagistracy, and government over the people.\" And yet again, these other\nwords are theirs: \"There is no need at all that a man should tire out\nhis mind and body to preserve the Greeks, and to obtain from them\na crown of wisdom; but to eat and drink well, O Timocrates, without\nprejudicing, but rather pleasing the flesh.\" And yet in the constitution\nof laws and policy, which Colotes so much praises, the first and most\nimportant article is the belief and persuasion of the gods. Wherefore\nalso Lycurgus heretofore consecrated the Lacedaemonians, Numa the\nRomans, the ancient Ion the Athenians, and Deucalion universally all the\nGreeks, through prayers, oaths, oracles, and omens, making them devout\nand affectionate to the gods by means of hopes and fears at once. And if\nyou will take the pains to travel through the world, you may find\ntowns and cities without walls, without letters, without kings, without\nhouses, without wealth, without money, without theatres and places of\nexercise; but there was never seen nor shall be seen by man any city\nwithout temples and gods, or without making use of prayers, oaths,\nauguries, and sacrifices for the obtaining of blessings and benefits,\nand the averting of curses and calamities. Nay, I am of opinion, that\na city might sooner be built without any ground to fix it on, than a\ncommonweal be constituted altogether void of any religion and opinion\nof the gods,--or being constituted, be preserved. But this, which is the\nfoundation and ground of all laws, do these men, not going circularly\nabout, nor secretly and by enigmatical speeches, but attacking it\nwith the first of their most principal opinions directly subvert and\noverthrow; and then afterwards, as if they were haunted by the Furies,\nthey come and confess that they have grievously offended in thus taking\naway the laws, and confounding the ordinances of justice and policy,\nthat they may not be capable of pardon. For to err in opinion, though it\nbe not the part of wise men, is at least human; but to impute to others\nthe errors and offences they commit themselves, how can any one declare\nwhat it is, if he forbears to give it the name it deserves?\n\nFor if, in writing against Antidorus or Bion the sophister, he had made\nmention of laws, policy, order, and justice, might not either of them\nhave said to him, as Electra did to her mad brother Orestes:--\n\n     Lie still at ease, poor wretch; keep in thy bed,\n     (Euripides, \"Orestes,\" 258.)\n\nand there cherish thy bit of body, leaving those to expostulate and\nfind fault with me who have themselves lived the life of a citizen and\nhouseholder? Now such are all those whom Colotes has reviled and railed\nat in his book. Amongst whom, Democritus in his writings advises\nand exhorts to the learning of the science of politics, as being the\ngreatest of all, and to the accustoming one's self to bear fatigues, by\nwhich men attain to great wealth and honor. And as for Parmenides, he\nbeautified and adorned his native country with most excellent laws which\nhe there established, so that even to this day the officers every year,\nwhen they enter first on the exercise of their charges, are obliged\nto swear that they will observe the laws and ordinances of Parmenides.\nEmpedocles brought to justice some of the principal of his city, and\ncaused them to be condemned for their insolent behavior and embezzling\nof the public treasure, and also delivered his country from sterility\nand the plague--to which calamities it was before subject--by immuring\nand stopping up the holes of certain mountains, whence there issued an\nhot south wind, which overspread all the plain country and blasted it.\nAnd Socrates, after he was condemned, when his friends offered him, if\nhe pleased, an opportunity of making his escape, absolutely refused\nto make use of it, that he might maintain the authority of the laws,\nchoosing rather to die unjustly than to save himself by disobeying the\nlaws of his country. Melissus, being captain general of his country,\nvanquished the Athenians in a battle at sea. Plato left in his writings\nexcellent discourses concerning the laws, government, and policy of a\ncommonweal; and yet he imprinted much better in the hearts and minds of\nhis disciples and familiars, which caused Sicily to be freed by Dion,\nand Thrace to be set at liberty by Pytho and Heraclides, who slew Cotys.\nChabrias also and Phocion, those two great generals of the Athenians,\ncame out of the Academy.\n\nAs for Epicurus, he indeed sent certain persons into Asia to chide\nTimocrates, and caused him to be removed out of the king's palace,\nbecause he had offended his brother Metrodorus; and this is written\nin their own books. But Plato sent of his disciples and friends,\nAristonymus to the Arcadians, to set in order their commonweal, Phormio\nto the Eleans, and Menedemus to the Pyrrhaeans. Eudoxus gave laws to\nthe Cnidians, and Aristotle to the Stagirites, who were both of them the\nintimates of Plato. And Alexander the Great demanded of Xenocrates\nrules and precepts for reigning well. And he who was sent to the same\nAlexander by the Grecians dwelling in Asia, and who most of all\ninflamed and stimulated him to embrace and undertake the war against\nthe barbarian king of Persia, was Delius the Ephesian, one of Plato's\nfamiliars. Zeno, the disciple of Parmenides, having attempted to kill\nthe tyrant Demylus, and failing in his design, maintained the doctrine\nof Parmenides, like pure and fine gold tried in the fire, that there is\nnothing which a magnanimous man ought to dread but dishonor, and that\nthere are none but children and women, or effeminate and women-hearted\nmen, who fear pain. For, having with his own teeth bitten off his\ntongue, he spit it in the tyrant's face.\n\nBut out of the school of Epicurus, and from among those who follow his\ndoctrine, I will not ask what tyrant-killer has proceeded, nor yet what\nman valiant and victorious in feats of arms, what lawgiver, what prince,\nwhat counsellor, or what governor of the people; neither will I demand,\nwho of them has been tormented or has died for supporting right and\njustice. But which of all these sages has for the benefit and service of\nhis country undertaken so much as one voyage at sea, gone of an embassy,\nor expended a sum of money? What record is there extant of one civil\naction in matter of government, performed by any of you? And yet,\nbecause Metrodorus went down one day from the city as far as the haven\nof Piraeus, taking a journey of forty stadia to assist Mithres a Syrian,\none of the king of Persia's court who had been arrested and taken\nprisoner, he writ of it to every one and in all his letters, Epicurus\nalso highly magnifying and extolling this wonderful voyage. What value\nthen, think you, would they have put upon it, if they had done such an\nact as Aristotle did, who procured the restoration and rebuilding of\nStagira, the town of his nativity, after it had been destroyed by King\nPhilip? Or as Theophrastus, who twice delivered his city, when possessed\nand held by tyrants? Would not the river Nile sooner have given over to\nbear the paper-reed, than they have been weary of writing their brave\nexploits?\n\nAnd it is not the greatest dishonor, that, of so many sects of\nphilosophers as have existed, they alone should enjoy the benefits that\nare in cities, without having ever contributed to them anything of\ntheir own; but far more serious is it that, while there are not even any\ntragical or comical poets who do not always endeavor to do or say some\ngood thing or other in defence of the laws and policy these men, if\nperadventure they write, write of policy, that we may not concern\nourselves in the government of the commonweal,--of rhetoric, that we may\nnot perform an act of eloquence,--and of royalty, that we may shun the\nliving and conversing with kings. Nor do they ever name any of those\ngreat personages who have intermeddled in civil affairs, but only to\nscoff at them and abolish their glory. Thus they say that Epaminondas\nhad something of good, but that infinitesimal, or [Greek omitted], for\nthat is the very word they use. They moreover call him iron-hearted,\nand ask what ailed him that he went marching his army through all\nPeloponnesus, and why he did not rather keep himself quiet at home with\na garland on his head, employed only in cherishing and making much of\nhis body. But methinks I ought not in this place to omit what Metrodorus\nwrit in his book of Philosophy, when, utterly abjuring all meddling in\nthe management of the state, he said thus: \"Some, through an excess of\nvanity and arrogance, have so deep a comprehension into the business of\nit, that in discussing the precepts of good life and virtue, they\nallow themselves to be carried away with the very same desires as were\nLycurgus and Solon.\" What is this? Was it then vanity and abundance of\nvanity, to set free the city of Athens, to render Sparta well-policied\nand governed by wholesome laws, that young men might do nothing\nlicentiously, nor get children upon common courtesans and whores, and\nthat riches, delights, intemperance, and dissolution might no longer\nbear sway and have command in cities, but law and justice? For these\nwere the desires of Solon. To this Metrodorus, by way of scorn and\ncontumely, adds this conclusion: \"It is then very well beseeming a\nnative born gentleman to laugh heartily, as at other men, so especially\nat these Solons and Lycurguses.\" But such a one, O Metrodorus, is not\na gentleman, but a servile and dissolute person, and deserves to be\nscourged, not with that whip which is for free-born persons, but with\nthat scourge made with ankle-bones, with which those eunuch sacrificers\ncalled Galli were wont to be chastised, when they failed of performing\ntheir duty in the ceremonies and sacrifices of the Goddess Cybele, the\ngreat Mother of the Gods.\n\nBut that they made war not against the lawgivers but against the laws\nthemselves, one may hear and understand from Epicurus. For in his\nquestions, he asks himself, whether a wise man, being assured that it\nwill not be known, will do anything that the laws forbid. To which he\nanswers: \"That is not so easy to settle simply,\"--that is \"I will do\nit indeed, but I am not willing to confess it.\" And again, I suppose\nwriting to Idomeneus, he exorts him not to make his life a slave to the\nlaws or to the options of men, unless it be to avoid the trouble they\nprepare, by the scourge and chastisement, so near at hand. If those who\nabolish laws, governments, and polices of men subvert and destroy\nhuman life, and if Metrodorus and Epicurus do this, by dehorting and\nwithdrawing their friends from concerning themselves in public affairs,\nby hating those who intermeddle in them, by reviling the first most wise\nlawgivers, and by advising contempt of the laws provided there is no\nfear and danger of the whip punishment. I do not see that Colotes has\nbrought so many false accusations against the other philosophers as he\nhas alleged and advanced true ones against the writings and doctrines of\nEpicurus.\n\n\nEND OF TEN------------\n\n\n\n\nPLATONIC QUESTIONS.\n\nQUESTION I. WHY DID GOD COMMAND SOCRATES TO ACT THE MIDWIFE'S PART\nTO OTHERS, BUT CHARGED HIMSELF NOT TO GENERATE; AS HE AFFIRMS IN\nTHEAETETUS? (See Plato, \"Theaetetus,\" p. 149 B.)\n\nFor he would never have used the name of God in such a merry, jesting\nmanner, though Plato in that book makes Socrates several times to talk\nwith great boasting and arrogance, as he does now. \"There are many, dear\nfriend, so affected towards me, that they are ready even to snap at me,\nwhen I offer to cure them of the least madness. For they will not be\npersuaded that I do it out of goodwill, because they are ignorant that\nno god bears ill-will to man, and that therefore I wish ill to no man;\nbut I cannot allow myself either to stand in a lie or to stifle the\ntruth.\" (Ibid. p. 151 C.) Whether therefore did he style his own nature,\nwhich was of a very strong and pregnant wit, by the name of God,--as\nMenander says, \"For our mind is God,\" and as Heraclitus, \"Man's genius\nis a Deity\"? Or did some divine cause or some daemon or other impart\nthis way of philosophizing to Socrates, whereby constantly interrogating\nothers, he cleared them of pride, error, and ignorance, and of being\ntroublesome both to themselves and to others? For about that time there\nhappened to be in Greece several sophists; to these some young men\npaid great sums of money, for which they purchased a strong opinion of\nlearning and wisdom, and of being stout disputants; but this sort of\ndisputation spent much time in trifling squabblings, which were of no\ncredit or profit. Now Socrates, using an argumentative discourse by way\nof a purgative remedy procured belief and authority to what he said,\nbecause in refuting others he himself affirmed nothing; and he the\nsooner gained upon people, because he seemed rather to be inquisitive\nafter the truth as well as they, than to maintain his own opinion.\n\nNow, however useful a thing judgment is, it is mightily infected By\nthe begetting of a man's own fancies. For the lover is blinded with the\nthing loved; and nothing of a man's own is so beloved as is the opinion\nand discourse he has begotten. And the distribution of children said to\nbe the justest, in respect of discourses is the unjustest; for there a\nman must take his own, but here a man must choose the best, though it\nbe another man's. Therefore he that has children of his own, is a worse\njudge of other men's; it being true, as the sophister said well, \"The\nEleans would be the most proper judges of the Olympic games, were no\nEleans gamesters.\" So he that would judge of disputations cannot be\njust, if he either seeks the bays for himself, or is himself antagonist\nto either of the antagonists. For as the Grecian captains, when they\nwere to settle by their suffrages who had behaved himself the best,\nevery man of them voted for himself; so there is not a philosopher of\nthem all but would do the like, besides those that acknowledge, like\nSocrates, that they can say nothing that is their own; and these only\nare the pure uncorrupt judges of the truth. For as the air in the ears,\nunless it be still and void of noise in itself, without any sound or\nhumming, does not exactly take sounds so the philosophical judgment\nin disputations, if it be disturbed and obstreperous within, is hardly\ncomprehensive of what is said without. For our familiar and inbred\nopinion will not allow that which disagrees with itself, as the number\nof sects and parties shows, of which philosophy--if she deals with them\nin the best manner--must maintain one to be right, and all the others to\nbe contrary to the truth in their positions.\n\nFurthermore, if men can comprehend and know nothing, God did justly\ninterdict Socrates the procreation of false and unstable discourses,\nwhich are like wind-eggs, and did him convince others who were of any\nother opinion. And reasoning, which rids us of the greatest of evils,\nerror and vanity of mind, is none of the least benefit to us; \"For God\nhas not granted this to the Esculapians.\" (Theognis, vs. 432,) Nor did\nSocrates give physic to the body; indeed he purged the mind of secret\ncorruption. But if there be any knowledge of the truth, and if the truth\nbe one, he has as much that learns it of him that invented it, as the\ninventor himself. Now he the most easily attains the truth, that is\npersuaded he has it not; and he chooses best, just as he that has\nno children of his own adopts the best. Mark this well, that poetry,\nmathematics, oratory, and sophistry, which are the things the Deity\nforbade Socrates to generate, are of no value; and that of the sole\nwisdom about what is divine and intelligible (which Socrates called\namiable and eligible for itself), there is neither generation nor\ninvention by man, but reminiscence. Wherefore Socrates taught nothing,\nbut suggesting principles of doubt, as birth-pains, to young men, he\nexcited and at the same time confirmed the innate notions. This he\ncalled his Art of Midwifery, which did not (as others professed)\nextrinsically confer intelligence upon his auditors; but demonstrated it\nto be innate, yet imperfect and confused, and in want of a nurse to feed\nand fortify it.\n\n\n\nQUESTION II. WHY DOES HE CALL THE SUPREME GOD FATHER AND MAKER OF ALL\nTHINGS? (Plato, \"Timaeus,\" p. 28 C.)\n\nIs it because he is (as Homer calls him) of created gods and men\nthe Father, and of brutes and things that have no soul the maker? If\nChrysippus may be believed, he is not properly styled the father of the\nafterbirth who supplied the seed, although it arose from the seed. Or\nhas Plato figuratively called the maker of the world the father of\nit? In his Convivium he calls Phaedrus the father of the amatorious\ndiscourse which he had commenced; and so in his Phaedrus (\"Phaedrus,\"\np. 261 A.) he calls him \"father of noble children,\" when he had been the\noccasion of many pre-eminent discourses about philosophical questions.\nOr is there any difference between a father and a maker? Or between\nprocreation and making? For as what is procreated is also made, but not\nthe contrary recreated did also make, for the procreation of an animal\nis the making of it. Now the work of a maker--as of a builder, a weaver,\na musical-instrument maker, or a statuary--is altogether apart and\nseparate from its author; but the principle and power of the procreator\nis implanted in the progeny, and contains his nature, the progeny being\na piece pulled off the procreator. Since therefore the world is neither\nlike a piece of potter's work nor joiner's work, but there is a great\nshare of life and divinity in it, which God from himself communicated\nto and mixed with matter, God may properly be called Father of the\nworld--since it has life in it--and also the maker of it.\n\nAnd since these things come very near to Plato's opinion, consider, I\npray, whether there may not be some probability in them. Whereas the\nworld consists of two parts, body and soul, God indeed made not the\nbody; but matter being at hand, he formed and fitted it, binding up and\nconfirming what was infinite within proper limits and figures. But the\nsoul, partaking of mind, reason, and harmony, was not only the work of\nGod, but part of him not only made by him, but begot by him.\n\n\n\nQUESTION III. In the Republic, (\"Republic,\" vi. pp. 509 D-511 E.) he\nassumes the universe, as one line to be cut into two unequal parts;\nagain he cuts each of these parts in two after the same manner, and\nsupposes the two sections first made to form the two genera of things\nsensible and things intelligible. The first stands for the genus of\nintelligibles, comprehending in the first subdivision the primitive\nforms, in the second the mathematics. Of sensibles, the first\nsubdivision comprehends solid bodies, the second comprehends the images\nand representations of them. Moreover, to every one of these four he has\nassigned its proper criterion;--to the first reason; to the mathematics,\nthe understanding; to sensibles, belief; to images and likenesses,\nconjecture.\n\nBUT WHAT DOES HE MEAN BY DIVIDING THE UNIVERSE INTO UNEQUAL PARTS? AND\nWHICH OF THE SECTIONS, THE INTELLIGIBLE OR THE SENSIBLE, IS THE GREATER?\nFOR IN THIS HE HAS NOT EXPLAINED HIMSELF.\n\nAt first glance it will appear that the sensible is the greater portion.\nFor the essence of intelligibles being indivisible, and in the same\nrespect ever the same, is contracted into a little, and pure; but an\nessence divisible and running through bodies constitutes the sensible\npart. Now what is immaterial is limited; but body in respect of matter\nis infinite and unlimited, and it becomes sensible only when it is\nlimited by partaking of the intelligible. Besides, as every sensible\nhas many images, shadows, and representations, and from one and the\nsame original several copies may be taken both by nature and art; so the\nlatter must surpass the former in number, according to Plato, who makes\nthings of the intellect to be patterns or ideas of things sensible,\nas if the last were images and reflections. Further, Plato derives the\nknowledge of ideas by abstraction and cutting away of body, leading\nus by mathematical discipline from arithmetic to geometry, thence\nto astronomy, and placing harmony above them all. For things become\ngeometrical by the accession of magnitude to quantity; solid, by the\naccession of profundity to magnitude; astronomical, by the accession\nof motion to solidity; harmonical, by the accession of sound to motion.\nTake then sound from moving bodies, motion from solids, profundity from\nsuperficies, magnitude from quantity, we then reach pure intelligible\nideas, which have no difference among themselves as regards the one\nsingle intelligible essence. For unity makes no number unless joined by\nthe infinite binary; then it makes a number. And thence we proceed\nto points, thence to lines, from them to superficies, and solids, and\nbodies, and to the qualities of the bodies so and so affected. Now the\nreason is the only criterion of intelligibles; and the understanding\nis the reason in the mathematics, where intelligibles appear as if in\nmirrors. But as to the knowledge of bodies, because of their multitude,\nNature has given us five powers or distinctions of senses; nor are\nall bodies discerned by them, many escaping sense by reason of their\nsmallness. And though every one of us consists of a body and soul, yet\nthe hegemonic and intellectual faculty is small, being hid in the huge\nmass of flesh. And the case is the same in the universe, as to sensible\nand intelligible. For intelligibles are the principles of bodily things,\nbut everything is greater than the principle whence it came.\n\nYet, on the contrary, some will say that, by comparing sensibles with\nintelligibles, we match things mortal with divine, in some measure; for\nGod is in intelligibles. Besides, the thing contained is ever less than\nthe containing, and the nature of the universe contains the sensible in\nthe intelligible. For God, having placed the soul in the middle, hath\nextended it through all, and hath covered it all round with bodies.\nThe soul is invisible, and cannot be perceived by any of the senses, as\nPlato says in his Book of Laws; therefore every man must die, but the\nworld shall never die. For mortality and dissolution surround every one\nof our vital faculties. The case is quite otherwise in the world;\nfor the corporeal part, contained in the middle by the more noble and\nunalterable principle, is ever preserved. And a body is said to\nbe without parts and indivisible for its minuteness; but what is\nincorporeal and intelligible is so, as being simple and sincere, and\nvoid of all firmness and difference. Besides, it were folly to think to\njudge of incorporeal things by corporeal. The present, or now, is said\nto be without parts and indivisible, since it is everywhere and no part\nof the world is void of it. But all affections and actions, and all\ncorruptions and generations in the world, are contained by this same\nnow. But the mind is judge only of what is intelligible, as the sight is\nof light, by reason of its simplicity and similitude. But bodies, having\nseveral differences and diversities, are comprehended, some by one\njudicatory function, others by another, as by several organs. Yet they\ndo not well who despise the discriminative faculty in us; for being\ngreat, it comprehends all sensibles, and attains to things divine. The\nchief thing he himself teaches in his Banquet, where he shows us how we\nshould use amatorious matters, turning our minds from sensible goods to\nthings discernible only by the mind, that we ought not to be enslaved\nby the beauty of any body, study, or learning, but laying aside\nsuch weakness, should turn to the vast ocean of beauty. (See Plato's\n\"Symposium,\" p. 210 D.)\n\n\n\nQUESTION IV. WHAT IS THE REASON THAT, THOUGH PLATO ALWAYS SAYS THAT THE\nSOUL IS ANCIENTER THAN THE BODY, AND THAT IT IS THE CAUSE AND PRINCIPLE\nOF ITS RISE, YET HE LIKEWISE SAYS, THAT NEITHER COULD THE SOUL EXIST\nWITHOUT THE BODY, NOR THE REASON WITHOUT THE SOUL, BUT THE SOUL IN THE\nBODY AND THE REASON IN THE SOUL? FOR 80 THE BODY WILL SEEM TO BE AND NOT\nTO BE, BECAUSE IT BOTH EXISTS WITH THE SOUL, AND IS BEGOT BY THE SOUL.\n\nPerhaps what we have often said is true; viz., that the soul without\nreason and the body without form did mutually ever coexist, and neither\nof them had generation or beginning. But after the soul did partake of\nreason and harmony, and being through consent made wise, it wrought a\nchange in matter, and being stronger than the other's motions, it drew\nand converted these motions to itself. So the body of the world drew its\noriginal from the soul, and became conformable and like to it. For\nthe soul did not make the nature of the body out of itself, or out\nof nothing; but it wrought an orderly and pliable body out of one\ndisorderly and formless. Just as if a man should say that the virtue\nof the seed is with the body, and yet that the body of the fig-tree or\nolive-tree was made of the seed, he would not be much out; for the body,\nits innate motion and mutation proceeding from the seed, grew up and\nbecame what it is. So, when formless and indefinite matter was once\nformed by the inbeing soul, it received such a form and disposition.\n\n\n\nQUESTION V. WHY, SINCE BODIES AND FIGURES ARE CONTAINED PARTLY BY\nRECTILINEARS AND PARTLY BY CIRCLES, DOES HE MAKE ISOSCELES TRIANGLES AND\nTRIANGLES OF UNEQUAL SIDES THE PRINCIPLES OF RECTILINEARS; OF WHICH THE\nISOSCELES TRIANGLE CONSTITUTES THE CUBE, THE ELEMENT OF THE EARTH; AND A\nSCALENE TRIANGLE FORMS THE PYRAMID, THE OCTAHEDRON THE SEED OF FIRE,\nAIR AND WATER RESPECTIVELY, AND THE ICOSAHEDRON;--WHILE HE PASSES OVER\nCIRCULARS, THOUGH HE DOES MENTION THE GLOBE, WHERE HE SAYS THAT EACH OF\nTHE AFORE-RECKONED FIGURES DIVIDES A ROUND BODY THAT CIRCUMSCRIBES IT\nINTO EQUAL PARTS. (See \"Timaeus,\" pp. 53-56.)\n\nIs their opinion true who think that he ascribed a dodecahedron to the\nglobe, when he says that God made use of it in delineating the universe?\nFor upon account of the multitude of its bases and the obtuseness of its\nangles, avoiding all rectitude, it is flexible, and by circumtension,\nlike globes made of twelve skins, it becomes circular and comprehensive.\nFor it has twenty solid angles, each of which is contained by three\nobtuse planes, and each of these contains one and the fifth part of\na right angle. Now it is made up of twelve equilateral and equangular\nquinquangles (or pentagons), each of which consists of thirty of the\nfirst scalene triangles. Therefore it seems to resemble both the Zodiac\nand the year, it being divided into the same number of parts as these.\n\nOr is a right line in Nature prior to circumference; or is circumference\nbut an accident of rectilinear? For a right line is said to bend; and\na circle is described by a centre and distance, which is the place of a\nright line from which a circumference is measured, this being everywhere\nequally distant from the middle. And a cone and a cylinder are made\nby rectilinears; a cone by keeping one side of a triangle fixed and\ncarrying another round with the base,--a cylinder, by doing the like\nwith a parallelogram. Further, that is nearest to principle which is\nless; but a right is the least of all lines, as it is simple; whereas\nin a circumference one part is convex without, another concave within.\nBesides, numbers are before figures, as unity is before a point,\nwhich is unity in position. But indeed unity is triangular; for every\ntriangular number (Triangular numbers are those of which equilateral\ntriangles can be formed in this way:\n\n                              .\n                   .      ..\n          .    ..    ...\n     . .. ... .... ..............\n\nSuch are: 3, 6, 10, 15, 21, 28, 36, 45, etc.; that is, numbers formed by\nadding the digits in regular order. (G.)) taken eight times, by adding\nunity, becomes quadrate; and this happens to unity. Therefore a triangle\nis before a circle, whence a right line is before a circumference.\nBesides, no element is divided into things compounded of itself; indeed\nthere is a dissolution of all other things into the elements. Now a\ntriangle is divided into no circumference, but two diameters cut a\ncircle into four triangles; therefore a rectilinear figure is before a\ncircular, and has more of the nature of an element. And Plato himself\nshows that a rectilinear is in the first place, and a circular is only\nconsequential and accidental. For when he says the earth consists of\ncubes, each of which is contained with rectilinear superficies, he says\nthe earth is spherical and round. Therefore there was no need of making\na peculiar element for round things, since rectilinears, fitted after a\ncertain manner among themselves, do make up this figure.\n\nBesides, a right line, whether great or little, preserves the same\nrectitude; but as to the circumference of a circle, the less it is,\nthe crookeder it is; the larger, the straighter. Therefore if a convex\nsurface stands on a plane, it sometimes touches the under plane in\na point, sometimes in a line. So that a man may imagine that a\ncircumference is made up of little right lines.\n\nBut observe whether this be not true, that no circle or sphere in this\nworld is exactly drawn; but since by the tension and circumtension of\nthe straight lines, or by the minuteness of the parts, the difference\nis hidden, the figure seems circular and round. Therefore no corruptible\nbody moves circularly, but altogether in a right line. To be truly\nspherical is not in a sensible body, but is the element of the soul and\nmind, to which he has given circular motion, as being agreeable to their\nnature.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VI. HOW COMES IT TO PASS THAT IN PHAEDRUS IT IS SAID, THAT THE\nNATURE OF A WING, BY WHICH ANYTHING THAT IS HEAVY IS CARRIED UPWARDS,\nPARTICIPATES MOST OF THE BODY OF GOD? (See \"Phaedrus,\" p. 246 D.)\n\nIs it because the discourse is of love, and love is of beauty inherent\nin a body? Now beauty, by similitude to things divine, moves and reminds\nthe soul. Or it may be (without too much curiosity) he may be understood\nin plain meaning, to wit, that the several faculties of the soul being\nemployed about bodies, the power of reasoning and understanding partakes\nmost about divine and heavenly things; which he did not improperly call\na wing, it raising the soul from mean and mortal things to things above.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VII. IN WHAT SENSE DOES PLATO SAY, THAT THE ANTIPERISTASIS (OR\nREACTION) OF MOTION--BY REASON THERE IS NO VACUUM--IS THE CAUSE OF THE\nPHENOMENA IN PHYSICIANS' CUPPING-GLASSES, IN SWALLOWING, IN CASTING\nWEIGHTS, IN THE RUNNING OF WATER, IN THUNDER, IN THE ATTRACTION OF THE\nLOADSTONE, AND IN THE HARMONY OF SOUNDS? (See \"Timaeus,\" pp. 79-81.)\n\nFor it seems unreasonable to ascribe the reason of such different\neffects to the selfsame cause.\n\nHow respiration is made by the reaction of the air, he has sufficiently\nshown. But the others, he says, seem to be effected miraculously, but\nreally the bodies force each other aside and change places with one\nanother; while he has left for us to discover how each is particularly\ndone.\n\nAs to cupping-glasses, the case is thus: the air next to the flesh being\ncomprehended and inflamed by the heat, and being made more rare than\nthe pores of the brass, does not go into a vacuum (for there is no such\nthing), but into the air that is without the cupping-glass, and has an\nimpulse upon it. This air drives that before it; and each, as it gives\nway, strives to succeed into the place which was vacuated by the cession\nof the first. And so the air approaching the flesh comprehended by\nthe cupping-glass, and attracting it, draws the humors into the\ncupping-glass.\n\nSwallowing takes place in the same way. For the cavities about the mouth\nand stomach are full of air; when therefore the meat is squeezed down by\nthe tongue and tonsils, the elided air follows what gives way, and also\nforces down the meat.\n\nWeights also thrown cleave the air and dissipate it, as they fall with\nforce; the air recoiling back, according to its proper tendency to rush\nin and fill the vacuum, follows the impulse, and accelerates the motion.\n\nThe fall also of thunderbolts is like to darting anything. For by the\nblow in the cloud, the fiery matter exploded breaks into the air; and it\nbeing broken gives way, and again being contracted above, by main force\nit presses the thunderbolt downwards contrary to Nature.\n\nAnd neither amber nor the loadstone draws anything to it which is near,\nnor does anything spontaneously approach them. But this stone emits\nstrong exhalations, by which the surrounding air being impelled forceth\nthat which is before it; and this being drawn round in the circle, and\nreturning into the vacuated place, forcibly draws the iron in the same\nmovement. In amber there is a flammeous and spirituous nature, and this\nby rubbing on the surface is emitted by recluse passages, and does the\nsame that the loadstone does. It also draws the lightest and driest of\nadjacent bodies, by reason of their tenuity and weakness; for it is not\nso strong nor so endued with weight and strength as to force much air\nand to act with violence and to have power over great bodies, as the\nmagnet has. But what is the reason the air never draws a stone, nor\nwood, but iron only, to the loadstone? This is a common question both by\nthose who think the coition of these bodies is made by the attraction\nof the loadstone, and by such as think it done by the incitement of the\niron. Iron is neither so rare as wood, nor altogether so solid as\ngold or a stone; but has certain pores and asperities, which as far as\ninequality is concerned are proportionable to the air; and the air being\nreceived in certain positions, and having (as it were) certain stays to\nhang to, does not slip off; but when it is carried up to the stone and\nis forced against it, it draws the iron by force along with it to the\nstone. Such then may be the reason of this.\n\nBut the manner of the waters running over the earth is not so evident.\nBut it is observable that the waters of lakes and ponds stand immovable,\nbecause the air about them stagnates immovable and admits of no\nvacuity. For the water on the surface of lakes and seas is troubled and\nfluctuates as the air is moved, it following the motion of the air, and\nmoving as it is moved. For the force from below causes the hollowness of\nthe wave, and from above the swelling thereof; until the air ambient\nand containing the water is still. Therefore the flux of such waters as\nfollow the motion of the receding air, and are impelled by that which\npresses behind, is continued without end. And this is the reason that\nthe stream increases with the waters, and is slow where the water is\nweak, the air not giving way, and therefore enduring less reaction.\nSo the water of fountains must needs go upwards, the extrinsic air\nsucceeding into the vacuity and throwing the water out. In a close\nhouse, that keeps in the air and wind, the floor sprinkled with water\ncauses an air or wind, because, as the sprinkled water falls, the air\ngives way. For it is so provided by Nature that air and water force\none another and give way to one another; because there is no vacuity in\nwhich one can be fixed without experiencing the change and alteration in\nthe other.\n\nConcerning symphony, he shows how sounds harmonize. A quick sound is\nacute, a slow is grave. Therefore acute sounds move the senses the\nquicker; and these dying and grave sounds supervening, what arises from\nthe contemperation of one with the other causes pleasure to the ear,\nwhich we call harmony. And by what has been said, it may easily be\nunderstood that air is the instrument of these things. For sound is\nthe stroke upon the sense of the hearer, caused by the air; and the air\nstrikes as it is struck by the thing moving,--if violent, acutely,--if\nlanguid, softly. The violent stroke comes quick to the ear; then the\ncircumambient air receiving a slower, it affects and carries the sense\nalong with it.\n\n\n\nQUESTION VIII. WHAT MEANS TIMAEUS (See \"Timaeus,\" p. 42 D.) WHEN HE\nSAYS THAT SOULS ARE DISPERSED INTO THE EARTH, THE MOON, AND INTO OTHER\nINSTRUMENTS OF TIME?\n\nDoes the earth move like the sun, moon, and five planets, which for\ntheir motions he calls organs or instruments of time? Or is the earth\nfixed to the axis of the universe; yet not so built as to remain\nimmovable, but to turn and wheel about, as Aristarchus and Seleucus\nhave shown since; Aristarchus only supposing it, Seleucus positively\nasserting it? Theophrastus writes how that Plato, when he grew old,\nrepented him that he had placed the earth in the middle of the universe,\nwhich was not its place.\n\nOr is this contradictory to Plato's opinion elsewhere, and in the Greek\ninstead of [Greek omitted] should it be written [Greek omitted], taking\nthe dative case instead of the genitive, so that the stars will not\nbe said to be instruments, but the bodies of animals? So Aristotle has\ndefined the soul to be \"the actualization of a natural organic body,\nhaving the power of life.\" The sense then must be this, that souls are\ndispersed into meet organical bodies in time. But this is far besides\nhis opinion. For it is not once, but several times, that he calls the\nstars instruments of time; as when he says, the sun was made, as well\nas other planets, for the distinction and conservation of the numbers of\ntime.\n\nIt is therefore most proper to understand the earth to be here an\ninstrument of time; not that the earth is moved, as the stars are; but\nthat, they being carried about it, it standing still makes sunset and\nsunrising, by which the first measures of time, nights and days, are\ncircumscribed. Wherefore he called it the infallible guard and artificer\nof night and day. For the gnomons of dials are instruments and measures\nof time, not in being moved with the shadows, but in standing still;\nthey being like the earth in closing out the light of the sun when it\nis down,--as Empedocles says that the earth makes night by intercepting\nlight. This therefore may be Plato's meaning.\n\nAnd so much the rather might we consider whether the sun is not absurdly\nand without probability said to be made for the distinction of time,\nwith the moon and the rest of the planets. For as in other respects\nthe dignity of the sun is great; so by Plato in his Republic (Plato,\n\"Republic.\" vi. pp. 508, 509.) the sun is called the king and lord of\nthe whole sensible nature, as the Chief Good is of the intelligible. For\nit is said to be the offspring of Good, it supplying both generation\nand appearance to things visible; as it is from Good that things\nintelligible both are and are understood. But that this God, having such\na nature and so great power, should be only an instrument of time, and\na sure measure of the difference that happens among the eight orbs,\nas they are slow or swift in motion, seems neither decent nor highly\nrational. It must therefore be said to such as are startled at these\nthings, that it is their ignorance to think that time is the measure of\nmotion in respect of sooner or later, as Aristotle calls it; or quantity\nin motion, as Speusippus; or an interval of motion and nothing else,\nas some of the Stoics define it, by an accident, not comprehending\nits essence and power, which Pindar has not ineptly expressed in these\nwords: Time, who surpasses all in the seats of the blest. Pythagoras\nalso, when he was asked what time was, answered, it was the soul of the\nuniverse. For time is no affection or accident of motion, but the\ncause, power, and principle of that symmetry and order that confines all\ncreated beings, by which the animated nature of the universe is moved.\nOr rather, this order and symmetry itself--so far as it is motion--is\ncalled time. For this,\n\n     Walking by still and silent ways,\n     Mortal things with justice leads.\n     (Euripides, \"Troades,\" 887.)\n\nAccording to the ancients, the principle of the soul is a number moving\nitself. Therefore Plato says that time and heaven were coexistent, but\nthat motion was before heaven had being. But time was not. For then\nthere neither was order, nor measure, nor determination; but indefinite\nmotion, as it were, the formless and rude matter of time.... But when\nmatter was informed with figures, and motion with circuitions, from that\ncame the world, from this time. Both are representations of God; the\nworld, of his essence; time, of his eternity in the sphere of motion,\nas the world is God in creation. Therefore they say heaven and motion,\nbeing bred together, will perish together, if ever they do perish. For\nnothing is generated without time, nor is anything intelligible without\neternity; if this is to endure forever, and that never to die when once\nbred. Time, therefore, having a necessary connection and affinity with\nheaven, cannot be called simple motion, but (as it were) motion in order\nhaving terms and periods; whereof since the sun is prefect and overseer,\nto determine, moderate, produce, and observe changes and seasons, which\n(according to Heraclitus) produce all things, he is coadjutor to the\ngoverning and chief God, not in trivial things, but in the greatest and\nmost momentous affairs.\n\n\n\nQUESTION IX. Since Plato in his Commonwealth, discoursing of the\nfaculties of the soul, has very well compared the symphony of reason and\nof the irascible and the concupiscent faculties to the harmony of the\nmiddle, lowest, and highest chord, (See \"Republic,\" iv. p. 443.) some\nmen may properly inquire:--\n\nDID PLATO PLACE THE RATIONAL OR THE IRASCIBLE FACULTY IN THE MIDDLE? FOR\nHE IS NOT CLEAR IN THE POINT.\n\nIndeed, according to the natural system of the parts, the place of the\nirascible faculty must be in the middle, and of the rational in the\nhighest, which the Greeks call hypate. For they of old called the chief\nand supreme [Greek omitted]. So Xenocrates calls Jove, in respect of\nimmutable things, [Greek omitted] (or HIGHEST), in respect of sublunary\nthings [Greek omitted] (or LOWEST). And long before him, Homer calls\nthe chief God [Greek omitted], HIGHEST OF RULERS. And Nature has of due\ngiven the highest place to what is most excellent, having placed reason\nas a steersman in the head, and the appetitive faculty at a distance,\nlast of all and lowest. And the lowest place they call [Greek omitted],\nas the names of the dead, [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted], do show.\nAnd some say, that the south wind, inasmuch as it blows from a low\nand obscure place, is called [Greek omitted]. Now since the appetitive\nfaculty stands in the same opposition to reason in which the lowest\nstands to the highest and the last to the first, it is not possible for\nthe reason to be uppermost and first, and yet for any other part to be\nthe one called [Greek omitted] (or HIGHEST). For they that ascribe the\npower of the middle to it, as the ruling power, are ignorant how\nthey deprive it of a higher power, namely, of the highest, which is\ncompatible neither to the irascible nor to the concupiscent faculty;\nsince it is the nature of them both to be governed by and obsequious to\nreason, and the nature of neither of them to govern and lead it. And the\nmost natural place of the irascible faculty seems to be in the middle\nof the other two. For it is the nature of reason to govern, and of the\nirascible faculty both to govern and be governed, since it is obsequious\nto reason, and commands the appetitive faculty when this is disobedient\nto reason. And as in letters the semi-vowels are middling between mutes\nand vowels, having something more than those and less than these; so in\nthe soul of man, the irascible faculty is not purely passive, but hath\noften an imagination of good mixed with the irrational appetite of\nrevenge. Plato himself, after he had compared the soul to a pair of\nhorses and a charioteer, likened (as every one knows) the rational\nfaculty to the charioteer, and the concupiscent to one of the horses,\nwhich was resty and unmanageable altogether, bristly about the ears,\ndeaf and disobedient both to whip and spur; and the irascible he makes\nfor the most part very obsequious to the bridle of reason, and assistant\nto it. As therefore in a chariot, the middling one in virtue and power\nis not the charioteer, but that one of the horses which is worse than\nhis guider and yet better than his fellow; so in the soul, Plato gives\nthe middle place not to the principal part, but to that faculty which\nhas less of reason than the principal part and more than the third. This\norder also keeps the analogy of the symphonies, i.e. the proportion of\nthe irascible to the rational (which is placed as hypate) making the\ndiatessaron (or fourth), that of the irascible to the concupiscent (or\nnete) making the diapente (or fifth), and that of the rational to the\nconcupiscent (as hypate to nete) making an octave or diapason. But\nshould you place the rational in the middle, you would make the\nirascible farther from the concupiscent; though some of the philosophers\nhave taken the irascible and the concupiscent faculty for the selfsame,\nby reason of their likeness.\n\nBut it may be ridiculous to describe the first, middle, and last by\ntheir place; since we see hypate highest in the harp, lowest in the\npipe; and wheresoever you place the mese in the harp, provided it is\ntunable, it sounds more acute than hypate, and more grave than nete. Nor\ndoes the eye possess the same place in all animals; but whereever it is\nplaced, it is natural for it to see. So a pedagogue, though he goes not\nforemost but follows behind, is said to lead ([Greek omitted]), as the\ngeneral of the Trojan army,\n\n     Now in the front, now in the rear was seen,\n     And kept command;\n     (\"Iliad,\" xi. 64.)\n\nbut wherever he was, he was first and chief in power. So the faculties\nof the soul are not to be ranged by mere force in order of place or\nname, but according to their power and analogy. For that in the body\nof man reason is in the highest place, is accidental. But it holds\nthe chief and highest power, as mese to hypate, in respect of the\nconcupiscent; as mese to nete, in respect of the irascible; insomuch as\nit depresses and heightens,--and in fine makes a harmony,--by abating\nwhat is too much and by not suffering them to flatten and grow dull. For\nwhat is moderate and symmetrous is defined by mediocrity. Still more is\nit the end of the rational faculty to bring the passions to moderation,\nwhich is called sacred, as making a harmony of the extremes with reason,\nand through reason with each other. For in chariots the best of the team\nis not in the middle; nor is the skill of driving to be placed as an\nextreme, but it is a mean between the inequality of the swiftness and\nthe slowness of the horses. So the force of reason takes up the passions\nirrationally moved, and reducing them to measure, constitutes a mean\nbetwixt too much and too little.\n\n\n\nQUESTION X. WHY SAID PLATO, THAT SPEECH WAS COMPOSED OF NOUNS AND VERBS?\n(Plato's \"Sophist,\" p. 262 A.)\n\nFor he seems to make no other parts of speech but them. But Homer in a\nplayful humor has comprehended them all in one verse:--\n\n[Greek omitted] (\"Iliad\", i. 185.)\n\nFor in it there is pronoun, participle, noun, preposition, article,\nconjunction, adverb, and verb, the particle--[Greek omitted] being put\ninstead of the preposition [Greek omitted]; for [Greek omitted], TO THE\nTENT, is said in the same sense as [Greek omitted], TO ATHENS. What then\nshall we say for Plato?\n\nIs it that at first the ancients called that [Greek omitted], or\nspeech, which once was called protasis and now is called axiom or\nproposition,--which as soon as a man speaks, he speaks either true\nor false? This consists of a noun and verb, which logicians call\nthe subject and predicate. For when we hear this said, \"Socrates\nphilosphizeth\" or \"Socrates is changed,\" requiring nothing more, we say\nthe one is true, the other false. For very likely in the beginning men\nwanted speech and articulate voice, to enable them to express clearly\nat once the passions and the patients, the actions and the agents. Now,\nsince actions and affections are adequately expressed by verbs, and they\nthat act and are affected by nouns, as he says, these seem to signify.\nAnd one may say, the rest signify not. For instance, the groans and\nshrieks of stage players, and even their smiles and silence, make their\ndiscourse more emphatic. But they have no absolute power to signify\nanything, as a noun and verb have, but only an ascititious power to vary\nspeech; just as they vary letters who mark spirits and quantities upon\nletters, these being the accidents and differences of letters. This the\nancients have made manifest, whom sixteen letters sufficed to speak and\nwrite anything.\n\nBesides, we must not fail to observe, that Plato says that speech is\ncomposed OF these, not BY these; nor must we find fault with Plato for\nomitting conjunctions, prepositions, and the rest, any more than we\nshould criticise a man who should say such a medicine is composed of wax\nand galbanum, because fire and utensils are omitted, without which it\ncannot be produced. For speech is not composed of these; yet by their\nmeans, and not without them, speech must be composed. As, if a man says\nBEATS or IS BEATEN, and adds Socrates and Pythagoras to the same, he\ngives us something to conceive and understand. But if a man pronounce\nINDEED or FOR or ABOUT and no more, none can conceive any notion of a\nbody or matter; and unless such words as these be uttered with verbs and\nnouns, they are but empty noise and chattering. For neither alone nor\njoined one with another do they signify anything. And join and confound\ntogether conjunctions, articles, and prepositions, supposing you would\nmake something of them; yet you will be taken to babble, and not to\nspeak sense. But when there is a verb in construction with a noun, the\nresult is speech and sense. Therefore some do with justice make only\nthese two parts of speech; and perhaps Homer is willing to declare\nhimself of this mind, when he says so often,\n\n     [Greek omitted]\n\nFor by [Greek omitted] he usually means a verb, as in these verses.\n\n     [Greek omitted],\n\nand,\n\n     [Greek omitted] (\"Odyssey,\" xxiii. 183; viii. 408.)\n\nFor neither conjunction, article, nor preposition could be said to be\n[Greek omitted] (TERRIBLE) or [Greek omitted] (SOUL GRIEVING), but\nonly a verb signifying a base action or a foolish passion of the mind.\nTherefore, when we would praise or dispraise poets or writers, we are\nwont to say, such a man uses Attic nouns and good verbs, or else common\nnouns and verbs; but none can say that Thucydides or Euripides used\nAttic or common articles.\n\nWhat then? May some say, do the rest of the parts conduce nothing to\nspeech? I answer, They conduce, as salt does to victuals; or water to\nbarley cakes. And Euenus calls fire the best sauce. Though sometimes\nthere is neither occasion for fire to boil, nor for salt to season our\nfood, which we have always occasion for. Nor has speech always occasion\nfor articles. I think I may say this of the Latin tongue, which is now\nthe universal language; for it has taken away all prepositions, saving\na few, nor does it use any articles, but its nouns are (as it were)\nwithout skirts and borders. Nor is it any wonder, since Homer, who\nin fineness of epic surpasses all men, has put articles only to a few\nnouns, like handles to cans, or crests to helmets. Therefore these\nverses are remarkable wherein the articles are suppressed.--\n\n     [Greek omitted] (\"Iliad,\" xiv. 459.)\n\nand,\n\n     [Greek omitted] (Ibid. xx. 147.)\n\nand some few besides. But in a thousand others, the omission of the\narticles hinders neither perspicuity nor elegance of phrase.\n\nNow neither an animal nor an instrument nor arms nor anything else\nis more fine, efficacious, or pleasanter, for the loss of a part. Yet\nspeech, by taking away conjunctions, often becomes more persuasive, as\nhere:--\n\n     One rear'd a dagger at a captive's breast;\n     One held a living foe, that freshly bled\n     With new-made wounds, another dragg'd a dead.\n     (Ibid. xviii. 536.)\n\nAnd this of Demosthenes:--\n\n\"A bully in an assault may do much which his victim cannot even report\nto another person,--by his attitude, his look, his voice,--when he\ninsults, when he attacks as an enemy, when he smites with his fist,\nwhen he strikes a blow on the face. These rouse a man; these make a man\nbeside himself who is unused to such foul abuse.\"\n\nAnd again:--\n\n\"Not so with Midias; but from the very day, he talks, he abuses, he\nshouts. Is there an election of magistrates? Midias the Anagyrrasian is\nnominated. He is the advocate of Plutarchus; he knows state secrets; the\ncity cannot contain him.\" (\"Demosthenes against Midias,\" p. 537,25, and\np. 578, 29.)\n\nTherefore the figure asyndeton, whereby conjunctions are omitted, is\nhighly commended by writers of rhetoric. But such as keep overstrict to\nthe law, and (according to custom) omit not a conjunction, rhetoricians\nblame for using a dull, flat, tedious style, without any variety in it.\nAnd inasmuch as logicians mightily want conjunctions for the joining\ntogether their axioms, as much as charioteers want yokes, and Ulysses\nwanted withs to tie Cyclop's sheep; this shows they are not parts of\nspeech, but a conjunctive instrument thereof, as the word conjunction\nimports. Nor do conjunctions join all, but only such as are not spoken\nsimply; unless you will make a cord part of the burthen, glue a part\nof a book, or distribution of money part of the government. For Demades\nsays, that money which is given to the people out of the exchequer for\npublic shows is the glue of a democracy. Now what conjunction does so of\nseveral propositions make one, by fitting and joining them together, as\nmarble joins iron that is incited with it in the fire? Yet the marble\nneither is nor is said to be part of the iron; although in this case the\nsubstances compose the mixture and are melted together, so as to make a\ncommon substance from several and to be mutually affected. But there be\nsome who think that conjunctions do not make anything one, but that this\nkind of speech is merely an enumeration, as when magistrates or days are\nreckoned in order.\n\nMoreover, as to the other parts of speech, a pronoun is manifestly a\nsort of noun; not only because it has cases, but because some pronouns,\nwhen they are used of objects already defined, by their mere utterance\ngive the most distinct designation of them. Nor do I know whether he\nthat says SOCRATES or he that says THIS ONE does more by name declare\nthe person.\n\nThe thing we call a participle, being a mixture of a verb and noun\nis nothing of itself, as are not the common names of male and female\nqualities (i.e, adjectives), but in construction it is put with others,\nin regard of tenses belonging to verbs, in regard of cases to nouns.\nLogicians call them [Greek omitted], (i.e., REFLECTED),--as [Greek\nomitted], comes from [Greek omitted], and from [Greek omitted],--having\nthe force both of nouns and appellatives.\n\nAnd prepositions are like to the crests of a helmet, or footstools and\npedestals, which (one may rather say) do belong to words than are words\nthemselves. See whether they rather be not pieces and scraps of words,\nas they that are in haste write but dashes and points for letters. For\nit is plain that [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted] are abbreviations\nof the whole words [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted]. As undoubtedly\nfor haste and brevity's sake, instead of [Greek omitted] and [Greek\nomitted] men first said [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted].\n\nTherefore every one of these is of some use in speech; but nothing is a\npart or element of speech (as has been said) except a noun and a verb,\nwhich make the first juncture allowing of truth or falsehood, which some\ncall a proposition or protasis, others an axiom, and which Plato called\nspeech.\n\n\nEND OF ELEVEN-----------\n\n\n\n\nLITERARY ESSAYS.\n\nTHE LIFE AND POETRY OF HOMER\n\n(Homeric quotations are almost all taken from Lord Derby's \"Iliad\" and\nButcher and Long's \"Odyssey.\" The first is indicated by the letter I,\nthe second by O.)\n\nHomer, who was in time first among most poets and by his power first of\nall poets, we justly read first, thereby gaining the greatest advantages\nfor our language, for our intellect, and for practical knowledge. Let us\nspeak of his poetry, first having shortly recalled his origin.\n\nHomer, Pindar says, was a Chian and of Smyrnae; Simonides says a Chian;\nAntimachus and Nicander, a Colophonion; but the philosopher Aristotle\nsays he was of Iete; the historian Ephorus says he was from Kyme. Some\ndo not hesitate to say he was from Salamis in Cyprus; some, an Argive.\nAristarchus and Dionysius the Thracian say that he was an Athenian. By\nsome he is spoken of as the son of Maeon and Kritheus; by others, (a\nson) of the river-god Meles.\n\nJust as there is a difficulty about his origin, so there is about the\ntime in which he flourished. Aristarchus says he lived about the period\nof the Ionian emigration; this happened sixty years after the return of\nthe Heraclidae. But the affair of the Heraclidae took place eighty years\nafter the destruction of Troy. Crates reports that he lived before the\nreturn of the Heraclidae, so he was not altogether eighty years distant\nfrom the Trojan War. But by very many it is believed that he was born\none hundred years after the Trojan War, not much before the foundation\nof the Olympic games, from which the time according to the Olympics is\nreckoned.\n\nThere are two poems of his, the \"Iliad\" and the \"Odyssey,\" both, of\nwhich are arranged according to the number of letters in the alphabet,\nnot by the poet himself, but by Aristarchus, the grammarian. Of these,\nthe \"Iliad\" records the deeds of the Greeks and Barbarians in Ilium on\naccount of the rape of Helen, and particularly the valor displayed\nin the war by Achilles. In the \"Odyssey\" are described the return\nof Ulysses home after the Trojan War, and his experiences in his\nwanderings, and how he took vengeance on those who plotted against his\nhouse. From this it is evident that Homer sets before us, through the\n\"Iliad,\" bodily courage; in the \"Odyssey,\" nobility of soul.\n\nBut the poet is not to be blamed because in his poetry he sets forth not\nonly the virtues but the evils of the soul, its sadness and its joys,\nits fears and desires; for being a poet, it is necessary for him to\nimitate not only good but evil characters. For without these the deeds\nwould not get the admiration of the hearer, who must pick out the better\ncharacters. And he has made the gods associating with men not only for\nthe sake of interest and entertainment, but that he might declare by\nthis that the gods care for and do not neglect men.\n\nTo sum up, an extraordinary and mythical narration of events is employed\nin order to stir his readers with wonder and to make his hearers\nstrongly impressed. Whence he seems to have said some things contrary to\nwhat is likely. For the persuasive always follows where the remarkable\nand elevated are previously conjoined. Therefore he not only elevates\nactions, and turns them from their customary course, but words as well.\nThat he always handles novel things and things out of the common sphere,\nand leads on his hearers, is evident to every one. And indeed in these\nfabulous narratives, if one reads not unattentively but carefully each\nelement of what is said, Homer appears to have been at home in the whole\nsphere and art of logic, and to have supplied many incentives, and as it\nwere seeds of all kinds of thought and action to his posterity, not to\npoets alone, but to the authors of historical and scientific works. Let\nus first look at his varied form of speech, and afterward at his sound\nknowledge on matters of fact. All poetry grips the hearer by definite\norder of coordinated expressions, by rhythm and metre, since the smooth\nand flowing, by becoming at the same time grave and sweet, forces the\nattention by its action on the senses. Whence it comes to pass also that\nit delights not only by the striking and attractive parts, but easily\npersuades by the parts tending to virtue.\n\nThe poems of Homer have the most perfect metre, the hexameter, which\nis also called heroic. It is called hexameter because each line has six\nfeet: one of these is of two long syllables, called spondee; the other,\nof three syllables, one long and two short, which is called dactyl. Both\nare isochronic. These in interchangeable order fill out the hexameter\nverse. It is called heroic because in it the deeds of the heroes are\nrecounted.\n\nHe makes use of a sound diction, combining the characteristics of every\nGreek dialect, from which it is plain that he travelled over the whole\nof Greece and among every people in it. He uses the ellipse of the\nDorians, due to their practice of shortening their speech, saying for\n[Greek omitted], as (O. i. 392): \"Immediately a beautiful horse ([Greek\nomitted]) was his,\" and for [Greek omitted] he uses [Greek omitted], as\n(O. xix. 543): \"Because ([Greek omitted]) an eagle killed my geese\"; and\nfor [Greek omitted], \"back,\" [Greek omitted], changing the o into a, the\n[Greek letter omitted] and the [Greek letter omitted] into its related\nletter. And [Greek omitted] he changes to [Greek omitted](I. xiv. 249):\n\"For before at another time ([Greek omitted]) your precepts made me\nmodest,\" and similar cases. Likewise, dropping the middle syllable, he\nsays for [Greek omitted], \"of like hair,\" and [Greek omitted], \"of the\nsame years,\" [Greek omitted]; and for [Greek omitted], that is, \"of the\nsame father,\" [Greek omitted]; for [Greek omitted]; \"to tremble,\" [Greek\nomitted] for [Greek omitted], \"I honour,\" [Greek omitted]. It is a\ncharacteristic of the Dorians also to transpose letters, as when they\nsay for [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted].\n\nIn composite words he makes use of the syncope of the Aeolians, saying\n[Greek omitted] instead of [Greek omitted], \"they went to sleep,\" and\n[Greek omitted], for [Greek omitted], \"to subject.\"\n\nThen when the third person of the imperfect among other Greek peoples\nends in the diphthong [Greek letter], the Eolians end in [Greek letter],\nas when they say for [Greek omitted], \"he was loving,\" [Greek omitted],\nand for [Greek omitted], \"he was thinking,\" [Greek omitted]. This custom\nHomer followed, saying (I. xi. 105): \"He bound ([Greek omitted]) in\ntender twigs,\" instead of [Greek omitted], and (O. v. 478): \"Which\nneither any humid power of the wind penetrates\" [Greek omitted]. Besides\nthis they change [Greek letter] into [Greek letter], as they say [Greek\nomitted] for [Greek omitted], \"odor,\" and [Greek Omitted] for [Greek\nomitted], \"we knew.\"\n\nBesides, they use pleonasm in some expressions, as when they put for\n[Greek omitted], \"calm,\" [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted] for [Greek\nomitted], \"but,\" [Greek omitted] got [Greek omitted], \"having cried.\"\nAnd when to the second person of verbs they add [Greek omitted],\nfor [Greek omitted] \"thou speakest,\" [Greek omitted], and for [Greek\nomitted], \"thou hast spoken,\" [Greek omitted]. Some attribute the\ndoubling of the consonant to the Dorians, some to the Aeolians. Such\nas we find in I. v. 83: \"Black death laid hold on [Greek omitted] him,\"\n[Greek omitted]; for [Greek omitted] as I. iii. 321: \"Each did these\ndeeds.\"\n\nHe preserves the peculiarity of the Ionians for the preterite tenses\nof verbs the aphaeresis, as where he says [Greek omitted] for [Greek\nomitted]. So in past tenses they are want to begin with the same letter\nas in present tenses and to leave off the [Greek letter] in the word\n[Greek omitted], \"priest\" and [Greek omitted], \"hawk.\" Besides, they\nadd [Greek letter] to the third persons of the subjunctive mood, as when\nthey say for [Greek omitted] \"may have come,\" [Greek omitted], and for\n[Greek omitted], \"may have taken,\" [Greek omitted]. This participle\nthey add to the dative, [Greek omitted], \"to the gates,\" \"to the woods.\"\nBesides, they say [Greek omitted] for \"name\", and [Greek omitted] for\n[Greek omitted], \"disease\" and [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted],\n\"empty,\" and [Greek omitted] for [Greek omitted], \"black.\" And then they\nchange long [Greek letter] into [Greek letter], as[Greek omitted] for\n[Greek omitted], \"Juno,\" and for [Greek omitted], Minerva. And sometimes\nthey change [Greek letter] into [Greek letter], saying for [Greek\nomitted], \"having forgotten.\" Moreover, they write in full by diaeresis\nwords which are circumflexed, for [Greek omitted], \"intelligent,\" [Greek\nomitted]. In the same way they lengthen genitive singulars in [Greek\nomitted], as [Greek omitted], and genitive feminines in [Greek omitted],\nas [Greek omitted], \"of gates,\" [Greek omitted], \"of nymphs,\" and\nfinally regular plurals of nouns in the neuter gender ending in [Greek\nletter] as [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted], \"breasts,\" \"darts,\" and\ntheir genitives likewise. They say in their way [Greek omitted] for\n[Greek omitted].\n\nBut he most largely used the Attic dialect for it was combined with\nothers. For just as in Attic they say [Greek omitted] for [Greek\nomitted], \"people,\" so he did, as [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted],\n\"debt.\" It is a custom with them sometimes to use contractions and\nto put one syllable for two, as for [Greek omitted], \"word,\" [Greek\nomitted], and for [Greek omitted], \"clothes,\" [Greek omitted]. Related\nto these is that Homeric expression, \"the Trojans in crowds bent over\"\n[Greek omitted], and another case, \"fields bearing the lotos\" [Greek\nomitted], instead of [Greek omitted]. Besides they take [Greek letter]\nfrom that type of optative, saying for [Greek omitted], \"it might seem\ngood to thee,\" [Greek omitted], for [Greek omitted], \"mightiest thou be\nhonored,\" [Greek omitted]. There is also an Atticism [Greek omitted] for\n[Greek omitted] in his verse (I. iii. 102):--\n\n     But you others discerned most quickly.\n\nLikewise this, too, is Attic, \"the more were worse [Greek omitted], the\nfew better [Greek omitted], than their fathers;\" we say [Greek omitted]\nor [Greek omitted]. And they do not prolong these by diaeresis, [Greek\nomitted], as \"oxen [Greek omitted] falling down,\" and, \"fishes [Greek\nomitted] and birds.\" And that, too, is said in the Attic fashion (O.\nxii. 331):--\n\n     Nor flowing do they break ([Greek omitted] for\n     [Greek omitted]) by their violence.\n\nIn the same way as [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted].\n\nAnd the taking away short vowels is Attic: [Greek omitted], \"he is\nwashed,\" [Greek omitted], \"I think,\" [Greek omitted]; in the same way\nfor [Greek omitted], \"he is loosed,\" he says [Greek omitted]. The Attics\nsay [Greek omitted], adding an unnecessary [Greek letter], whence also\ncomes [Greek omitted], \"he was pouring out wine.\" They contract the\niota in words of this sort, as for [Greek omitted], \"shores,\" [Greek\nomitted], \"shores,\" and for [Greek omitted], [Greek omitted]. So also\n(I. xi. 782):--\n\n     You two [Greek omitted] wished it very much.\n\nFinally in datives ending in pure iota with a penultimate of alpha the\nsame is done, as [Greek omitted], \"horn,\" [Greek omitted], \"old age,\"\n[Greek omitted], \"ray.\" And this, too, is Attic, where it is said [Greek\nomitted], \"let them be,\" and [Greek omitted], \"let them follow,\" for\n[Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted]. The use of the dual which Homer\nrepeatedly employs is of the same type. Also with feminine substantives\nhe joins masculine articles, participles, and adjectives, as [Greek\nomitted]. This is a practice with Plato, as when he uses [Greek omitted]\n\"pillaging,\" and [Greek omitted], \"the wise just woman.\" So, too, Homer\n(I. viii. 455), speaking of Here and Athene, says:--\n\n     In vain smitten [Greek omitted] with a thunderbolt on\n     our chariots,--\n\nand (I. iv. 22):--\n\n     Athene was indeed unwilling [Greek omitted],--\n\nand (I. ii. 742):--\n\n     Famous [Greek omitted] Hippodamea.\n\nMoreover the dialects have many peculiarities of construction. When the\npoet says (I. iv. 100):--\n\n     But seek with your javelins of divine Menelaos,--\n\ninstead of the accusative, he presents an Attic usage. But when he says\n(I. ii. 186):--\n\n     He took for him the sceptre and he took the cup for\n     fair-cheeked Themis--\n\ninstead of \"from him\" and \"from Themis,\" he is employing a Dorian usage.\n\nAccordingly it appears how he makes his diction varied by throwing\ntogether words of all the Greek dialects, and sometimes he makes use of\nforeign words as are the aforesaid, sometimes archaic words, as when\nhe says [Greek omitted], \"falchion,\" and [Greek omitted], \"sword,\"\nsometimes common and ordinary words, as when he says [Greek omitted],\n\"sword and shield\"; one might wonder how well common words in his poetry\npreserve dignity of speech.\n\nBut an artificially wrought style cultivates variation from the\ncustomary, by which it becomes clever, more dignified, and altogether\nmore attractive. The turn of expression is called a Trope, and change\nof construction is called a Schema. The forms of these are described in\ntechnical treatises. Let us examine if any of these is omitted by Homer\nor whether anything else was discovered by his successors which he\nhimself did not use first.\n\nAmong Tropes, Onomatopoeia is very common. For he knew the early origin\nof words. The first who gave names to things called many of them from\nwhat had taken place, and therefore introduced inarticulate sounds into\nwriting. As when they said [Greek omitted], \"to blow,\" [Greek omitted],\n\"to cut,\" [Greek omitted], \"to woo,\" [Greek omitted], \"to thunder,\"\nand others like these. Whence he himself created certain words not\npreviously existing, copying the things they signified, as [Greek\nomitted], \"sound,\" and other things also indicating sounds, [Greek\nomitted], and others of the same kind. None could be found more\nsignificant. And again where some words pertaining to certain things he\nattributes to others, as when he says (I. xxi. 337):--\n\n     Bearing an evil fire,--\n\nwhich signifies its power in burning, and \"fever\" he uses for \"fire.\"\nLike these is the expression (I. xix. 25):--\n\n     Brass striking wounds,--\n\nhe writes to express wounds inflicted by brass. And to sum up he uses\nmuch novelty of speech, with great freedom, changing some from their\ncustomary use, giving distinction to others for the sake of infusing in\nhis language beauty and grandeur.\n\nHe has also much fertility in epithets; these being fitted to their\nobjects properly and naturally have the force of proper names, as when\nhe gives to the several gods each some proper designation, so he\ncalls Zeus the \"all-wise and high thundering,\" and the Sun, Hyperion,\n\"advancing aloft,\" and Apollo, Phoebus, that is, shining. But after the\nOnomatopoeia let us examine other Tropes.\n\nCatechresis, which changes a word from a customary signification to\nanother not recognized. This is to be found in the poet when he says\ngolden chain [Greek omitted], but [Greek omitted] properly means a rope,\nand when he says a goat helmet [Greek omitted]; now a helmet is [Greek\nomitted] in Homer, because it used to be made of dog's skin, not of\ngoat's skin.\n\nMetaphor, so-called because it transfers a thing from its proper\nsignificance to another with an analogous likeness to both, occurs in\nmany and varied forms in verse, as is the line (O. ix. 481):--\n\n     He comes, having broken off the crown of a great mountain,--\n\nand (O. x. 195):\n\n     An island which the sea laves and crowns.\n\nFor the relation a crown has to him whom it encircles, the same the sea\nhas to an island. By making use of related but not usual words he makes\nhis speech not only more beautiful but more picturesque.\n\nThere are in Homer various kinds of metaphors; some applied from animate\nthings to animate, as, \"the driver of the caerulean ship spoke\" instead\nof the sailor, and \"he went to Agamemnon the son of Atreus, the shepherd\nof the people\" instead of king. Some are applied from animate to\ninanimate, as (I. ii. 824):--\n\n     Under the extreme foot of Ida,--\n\nthat is, the rising ground. Also (I. ix. 141):--\n\n     The breast of the field,--\n\nthat is, the fertility. Others, on the contrary, from inanimate to\nanimate, as (I. xxiv. 205):--\n\n     The iron breast.\n\nFrom inanimate to animate, as (O. v. 490):--\n\n     Preserving the seed of fire,--\n\ninstead of the generating origin. Then he has metaphors of verbs as well\nas substantives (I. xvii. 265):--\n\n     As the shores bellow with the smiting salt and gale,--\n\ninstead of \"resound.\"\n\nAnother Trope which is called Metalepsis, signifying a different thing\nby a synonym (O. xv. 299):--\n\n     I beached the ship in the sharp islands,--\n\nfor he wishes to signify islands properly called jagged. Both words in\nGreek are synonyms. For in Greek sharp not only signifies swiftness of\nmotion, but also in a figure that which rises into a slender shape. Such\nis the quotation (O. ix. 327):--\n\n     accompanied him and sharpened my pace.\n\nAnother Trope is named Synecdoche, called from this reason; that from\nwhat is properly meant, another of the like kind is understood. This\nTrope has also many varieties. For either we perceive the part from the\nwhole, as (I. xii. 137):--\n\n     They advanced straight to the walls the burning bulls,--\n\nfor he wishes to indicate by the appellation \"bulls\" the leather out\nof which shields are wont to be made. Or from a part the whole (O. i.\n343):--\n\n     I long for such a head,--\n\nfor from the head he signifies the man. And when for beautiful he\nsays \"endowed with beautiful cheeks,\" and for well armed he says \"well\ngreaved.\" Or from one the many, as when he speaks of Odysseus (O. i.\n2):--\n\n     When he wasted the sacred citadel of Troy.\n\nNot he by himself took Troy, but along with the rest of the Greeks. From\nthe many one, as (I. iii. 397), \"happy breasts,\" i.e. breast. From the\nspecies the genus, as (I. xii. 380):--\n\n     Casting on the hard marble,--\n\nfor marble is a species of rock. From the genus the species (O. ii.\n159).--\n\n     To know the birds and to say many fitting things.\n\nHe wishes to say not all birds, but only the birds of auspices. From the\ninstruments the action, as (I. ii. 827):--\n\n     Pandorus to whom he gave the bow of Apollo.\n\nBy the bow he indicates the skill in using it. And (O. xii. 172):--\n\n     Sitting they made the water white,--\n\nand (O. iii. 486):--\n\n     Now others moved the whole day the thong of their sandal.\n\nThis comes from an accidental feature; in the first case \"they were\nrowing,\" in the next \"they were running,\" is to be implied. Besides\nthere is the consequent to the precedent, as (O. xi. 245):--\n\n     She loosed the virgin zone.\n\nIt follows that she defiled it. From the consequent the precedent, as\nwhen instead of saying \"to kill\" he says \"to disarm,\" that is, to spoil.\n\nThere is another Trope called Metonymy, i.e. when an expression applied\nproperly to one thing indicates another related to it, such as (I. ii.\n426):--\n\n     But the young men proceed to grind Demeter,--\n\nfor he means the crop of grain named from its inventor, Demeter. And\nwhen he says (O. xix. 28):--\n\n     They held the transfixed entrails over Hephaestus.\n\nBy the name Hephaestus he signifies fire. Like what has previously been\nmentioned is this (I. i. 223).--\n\n     Whoever shall touch my choenix,--\n\nfor what is contained in the choenix is intended.\n\nThere is besides another Trope, Autonomasia, when an epithet or co-title\nis used for a proper name, as in this example (I. viii. 39):--\n\n     The son of Peleus again attacked the son of Atreus\n     with petulant words.\n\nBy this he indicates Achilles and Agamemnon respectively. And again (I.\nxxii. 183):--\n\n     Be of good cheer, Tritonia, dear daughter,--\n\nand in other places (I. xx. 39):--\n\n     Shorn Phoebus.\n\nIn the one case he means Athene and in the other Apollo.\n\nThere is, too, Antiphrasis, or an expression signifying the opposite\nfrom what it appears to do (I. i. 330):--\n\n     Seeing these Achilles did not rejoice.\n\nHe wishes to say the contrary, that seeing them he was disgusted.\n\nThere is also Emphasis, which through reflection adds vigor to what is\nsaid (O. xi. 523):--\n\n     But descending into the home which Epeus constructed.\n\nIn the word \"descending\" he reveals the great size of the house. Of the\nsame kind is the line (I. xvi. 333):--\n\n     The whole sand was hot with blood,--\n\nfor in this he furnishes a more intense description, as if the sand was\nso bathed with blood that it was hot. These kind of Tropes were invented\nby Homer first of all.\n\nLet us look at the changes of construction which are called figures to\nsee if Homer also first invented these. Figure is a method of expression\ndivergent from ordinary custom for the sake of ornament or utility,\naltered by a kind of fiction. For beauty is added to narrative by\nvariety and change of expression, and these make the style more\nimpressive. They are also useful because they exalt and intensify innate\nqualities and powers.\n\nAmong the figures Pleonasm is sometimes used for the sake of the metre;\nas in (I. xix. 247):--\n\n     Odysseus adding all ten talents of gold,--\n\nfor the word \"all\" is added without contributing to the sense. It is\ndone for the sake of ornament, cf. (I. xviii. 12).--\n\n     Certainly the strenuous son of Menoetius is quite dead,--\n\nfor the word \"quite\" is pleonastic after the Attic fashion.\n\nSometimes by several forms of speech he unfolds his meaning. This is\ncalled Periphrasis. As when he says \"Sons of the Achaeans\" for Achaeans,\nand the \"Herculean might\" for Hercules.\n\nThings are said figuratively by Mutation when the ordinary order is\ninverted. But he puts in an expression in the midst which is called\nHyperbaton, as in this (I. xvii. 542):--\n\n     Just as a lion feeds on an eaten bull,--\n\ninstead of saying the lion eats up the bull. And so he passes the limits\nof the sentence (I. ii. 333):--\n\n     He said, and loudly cheered the Greeks--and loud\n     From all the hollow ships came back the cheers--\n     In admiration of Ulysses' speech.\n\nThe order is the Argives applauded with a great shout the speech of\ndivine Odysseus.\n\nOf the same kind is the figure called Parembole, or interposition, when\nsomething outside having nothing to do with the subject is introduced.\nIf it is removed, the construction is not affected (I. i. 234):--\n\n     By this I say and with an oath confirm\n     By this my royal staff, which never more\n     Shall put forth leaf nor spray, since first it left\n     Upon the mountain side its parent stem\n     Nor blossom more; since all around the axe\n     Hath lopped both leaf and bark--...\n\nand the rest as much as he has said about the sceptre, then joining what\nfollows with the beginning (I. i. 340):--\n\n     The time shall come when all the sons of Greece\n     Shall mourn Achilles' loss.\n\nHe uses also Palillogia--that is the repetition of some part of\na sentence, or several parts are repeated. This figure is called\nReduplication, such as (I. xx. 371):--\n\n     Encounter him well!  Though his hands were hands of fire,\n     Of fire, his hands, his strength as burnished steel.\n\nSometimes certain insertions are made and they are repeated, as in (O.\ni. 22):--\n\n     Howbeit Poseidon had now departed for the distant Ethiopians,\n     the Ethiopians that are sundered in twain, the uttermost\n     of men.\n\nThis is a figure revealing the feeling of the speaker and at the same\ntime affecting the hearer.\n\nOf the same kind is Relation; when at the commencement of several\nmembers of a sentence the same part is repeated. An example of this from\nthe poet is (I. ii. 671):--\n\n     Nireus three well-trimmed ships from Syme brought.\n     Nireus to Charops whom Aglaia bore.\n     Nireus the goodliest man of all the Greeks.\n\nThis figure is likewise adapted to excite the emotions and give\nsweetness to the expression.\n\nHe has also Regression. This is when one puts forward two names of\nobjects. When the sense is not yet complete, the poet returns to both of\nthe names, completing what is lacking in the sense, as (I. v. 518).--\n\n     Followed the thronging bands of Troy, by Mars and fierce\n     Bellona led: she by the hand wild uproar held; while Mars\n     a giant spear brandished aloft.\n\nThe characteristic of this figure is variety and perspicuity.\n\nHe has also the figure called Homoioteleuton in which the parts of the\nsentence have endings similar in sound and have the same syllables at\nthe end (O. xv. 74):--\n\n     Men should love a guest while he is with them, and send\n     him on his way when he would depart,--\n\nand in the following (O. vi. 42):--\n\nAnd she departed to Olympus, where they say is the seat of the gods that\nstandeth fast forever. Not by the wind is it shaken nor ever wet with\nrain nor doth the snow come nigh thereto, but most clear air is spread\nabout it cloudless and the white light floats over it.\n\nWhen periods or their members end in nouns which are of the same\ndeclension this is properly called Homoioptolon, as the following (I.\nii. 87):--\n\n     [Greek omitted]\n\n     As swarms of bees, that pour in ceaseless stream\n     From out the crevice of some hollow rock.\n\nThe above and others like them add grace and attractiveness to the\nnarrative.\n\nAs a proof of his care in composition we often see he employs two\nfigures in the same verses, as Epanaphora and Homoioteleuton (I. ii.\n382):--\n\n     Each sharpen well his spear, his shield prepare\n     Each to his fiery steeds their forage give.\n\nBelonging to these is the figure called Parison, which is formed out\nof two or more numbers having an equal number of words (I. vii. 93):--\n\n     Shamed to refuse, but fearful to accept.--\n\nand again (I. xvi. 282):--\n\n     Had cast away difference, had resumed friendship,--\n\nThat this figure gives much ornament of style is very clear.\n\nThe like grace comes from Paranomasia, when besides the name in question\nanother similar one is added at a slight interval (I. vi. 130):--\n\n     Not long did Dryas' son, Lycurgus brave,--\n\nand in another (I. ii. 758):--\n\n     Swift-footed Protheus led.\n\nBut the above examples are arranged either by Pleonasm or by some such\nlike artifice. But there is another due to absence of a word. Of\nthes omitted the sense is plain from what has gone before, as in the\nfollowing (I. ix. 328):--\n\n     Twelve cities have I taken with my ships,\n     Eleven more by land on Trojan soil,--\n\nwhere the words \"have I taken\" are wanting in last line, but are\nsupplied from the preceding one. This is said to be by Ellipse (I. xii.\n243):--\n\n     One bird best to defend the fatherland,--\n\nwhere the word \"is\" is lacking. And (I. xx. 293):--\n\n     Alas I the grief to me of great-hearted Aeneas,--\n\nwhen the words \"is present,\" \"comes,\" or something of the kind, are\nunderstood.\n\nThere are many kinds of Ellipses in Homer; the effect of the figure is\nquickness.\n\nOf this sort is Asyndeton when the conjunctions uniting sentences are\nremoved. This is done not only for the sake of celerity, but also of the\nsake of emotional emphasis. Such as is the following (O. x. 251):--\n\n     We went on our way, noble Odysseus, up through the coppice\n     even as thou didst command; we found within the forest glades\n     the fair halls builded of polished stone of Circe.\n\nIn these the conjunction is dropped since the speaker seeks the quickest\nmethod of expressing his message. There is among the figures what is\ncalled the Incongruous or the Variation. It is used when the ordinary\narrangement is made different. And the variety is due either to\nimpressing grace and elegance to the words; the ordinary movements not\nseeming to be followed, but the alteration has an arrangement of its\nown.\n\nIt often takes place when the genders of nouns are changed as [Greek\nomitted] instead of [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted]. It was not\nunusual for the ancients, and especially among the people of Attica, to\nuse masculine for feminine as superior and more vigorous. Nor did they\ndo this without rhyme and reason, but when they made use of a word,\nas an epithet apart from the body which was spoken of. For the words\nconcerned with the body are \"great, beautiful,\" those not connected with\nit, \"glorious, fortunate.\" Besides, they are ambiguous on account of\ntheir composition. For in general all compound things are common\nto either gender. And wherever a verb or participle is used with a\nmasculine and feminine noun, the masculine prevails (I. vi. 567):--\n\n     The virgins and the youths minding childish things,--\n\nwhere the participle is masculine.\n\nCertain things, owing to the peculiarity of the dialect or the custom\nof that time, are said differently, [Greek omitted] feminine instead of\n[Greek omitted] (O. i. 53):--\n\n     And himself upholds the tall pillars which keep earth\n     and sky asunder.\n\nOften as the narrative proceeds he changes the genders, as in (O, xv.\n125):--\n\n     I give to you the gift, my dear son.\n\nSon is a neuter substantive to which the adjective agrees; the poet\nrefers it to the person. Of the same kind is that which is said by Dione\nto Venus (I. v. 382):--\n\n     Have patience, dearest child; though much enforced.\n\nAnalogous to it is that (O. xi. 90):--\n\n     Anon came the soul of Theban Teiresias, with a golden sceptre\n     in his hand,--\n\nfor he made the participle [Greek omitted] agree not with the gender of\nsoul [Greek omitted], but the gender of the body, that is, Teiresias.\nFor often he looks not to the word but to the sense, as in this passage\n(I. xvi. 280):--\n\n     In all their spirit stirred, and the phalanxes moved hoping\n     for the idle son of Peleus from the ships,--\n\nfor the participle [Greek omitted] does not agree with the word\n\"phalanxes,\" but with the men composing them.\n\nIn another way he changes genders, as when he says (O. xii. 75):--\n\n     And a dark cloud encompasses it; this never streams away,--\n\nsince [Greek omitted] and [Greek omitted], \"cloud,\" are synonyms, using\nfirst [Greek omitted] he afterward makes his adjectives agree with\n[Greek omitted] understood. Like this are these verses (I. ii. 459):--\n\n     As various tribes of winged fowl or geese\n     Or cranes or long necked swans\n     Besides Coysters stream, now here, now there,\n     Disporting, ply their wings.\n\nFor having first set down generically the kinds of birds, which are\nneuter, then after speaking of the species in the masculine he comes\nback again to the neuter--settling down with a noise giving the proper\nagreement to the general word of the species.\n\nThe poet often changes the number as well as the gender (I. xv. 305):--\n\n     The crowd approach the ships of the Achaeans.\n\nFirst comes a singular then a plural verb, plainly looking to the sense,\nfor although the word \"crowd\" is called singular, yet it embraces many\nindividuals.\n\nLike it in the opposite way is when the plural precedes the singular\nfollows (I. xvi. 264):--\n\n     They having a martial heart each one rushes on.\n\nThe word [Greek omitted] is singular, being applied to a multitude has\nthe same effect as all ([Greek omitted]). The same kind of figure is the\nfollowing (O. iii. 4):--\n\n     And they reached Pylas, the stablished castle of Neleus, and\n     the people were doing sacrifice on the seashore.\n\nThe people of Pylas are meant.\n\nHe has changes of cases, the nominative and the vocative being\ninterchanged in the following verse (I. ii. 107):--\n\n     To Agamemnon last Thyestis left it,--\n\nand (I. i. 411):--\n\n     Cloud-compelling Zeus,--\n\nand (0. xvii. 415):--\n\n     Friend [Greek omitted] give me for thou dost not seem to me\n     to be the worst of the Greeks.\n\nThe genitive and dative are changed in the next example (I. iii. 16):--\n\n     Godlike Paris fights in front for the Trojans,--\n\ninstead of \"in front of.\" And the contrary in the next (O. v. 68):--\n\n     There about the hollow cave trailed a gadding vine.\n\nWhere in the original the Greek word \"cave\" is in the genitive case,\nnot as it should be, dative. And the cause of the mutation is that the\nnominative accusative and vocative seem to have a certain relation\nto one another. On which account nouns of the neuter gender and many\nmasculine and feminine ones have these three cases alike. Likewise the\ngenitive has a certain affinity with the dative. This is found in the\ndual number of all words. Hence the cases are changed contrary to\nwhat is usual. Sometimes it is possible to discover the reason for the\nchange, as in the expression (I. v. 222):--\n\n     Understanding of the field,--\n\nand (I. ii. 785):--\n\n     They crossed the field,--\n\njust as if he had used the preposition \"through.\"\n\nA fine example of change of case is found in the beginning of both his\npoems:--\n\n     Sing, O Muse, the vengeance, etc., whence to Greece unnumbered\n     ills arose.\n\n     Tell me, Muse, of that man, of many a shift and many the woes\n     he suffered.\n\nSometimes after the genitive he brings in the nominative, as in this (I.\ni. 272):--\n\n     Of others who are now mortal.\n\nHe arranges many things in figures in various ways, as the following\npassage (I. ii. 350):--\n\n     For well I ween, that on the day when first\n     We Grecians hitherward our course address'd\n     To Troy the messengers of blood and death\n     Th' o'erruling son of Saturn, on our right\n     His lightning flashing, with auspicious sign\n     Assur'd us of his favor.\n\nAnd the following is not unlike it (I. vi. 510):--\n\n     His bright arms flashing like the gorgeous sun\n     Hasten'd with boastful mien and rapid step.\n\nAnd these things, according to the ancient fashion, he exalts not\nunreasonably. If any one changes the participles into verbs, he will\ndiscover the sequence, for the word \"lightning\" has the same value as\n\"when it was lightning,\" and \"relying\" \"since he relied.\" Like these\ncases are the following (O. xii. 73):--\n\n     There are two crags, one reaches the broad sky,\n\nand (I. vii. 306):--\n\n     They parted: Ajax to the Grecian camp\n     And Hector to the ranks of Troy returned.\n\nAnd others of the same kind. For it is reasonable when one is about to\nspeak of two individuals to put first what is common to the two, keeping\nthe nominative in both cases. It is plain that this common use displays\nmuch grace. Sometimes employing a common case he signifies only one, as\nin the following (I. iii. 211):--\n\n     Both sat down, Ulysses was the higher in honor.\n\nThe form of words he often changes, sometimes putting the comparative\ninstead of the absolute (I. i. 32):--\n\n     That you may return a more sane being.\n\nSometimes the superlative for the positive, as (I. xi. 832);--\n\n     Most just of Centaurs.\n\nSuch is the change in nouns. But in verbs there is a change in moods, as\nwhen the infinitive is used for the imperative, as (I. v. 124):--\n\n     Go fearless onward, Diomed, to meet the Trojan darts,--\n\nwhere the imperative \"meet\" might be expected.\n\nOr the indicative in place of the optative, as (I. ii. 488):--\n\n     The crowd I shall not relate nor name,--\n\nwhere one would expect \"I could not relate nor name.\" And, on the\ncontrary, the optative for the indicative, as (I. v. 388):--\n\n     Mars would then be lost,--for \"was lost.\"\n\nThere is a variation of tenses when the present is used for the future\n(I. l. 29)--\n\n     Her I release not till her youth be fled,--\n\ninstead of \"shall flee.\" Or for the imperfect (O. vi. 86):--\n\n     Where truly were the unfailing cisterns, and bright water\n     wells up free from beneath,--\n\ninstead of \"welled up.\" And the future for the present (O. i. 24):--\n\n     Abiding some, where Hyperion will sink; and some, where\n     he rises.\n\nOr in place of the past (O. v. 300):--\n\n     I fear that indeed the goddess may spake all things truly.\n\nAnd the voices are often changed. Instead of the active, the passive and\nmiddle are often used, as (I. i. 194):--\n\n     A great sword is drawn from its sheath,--\n\ninstead of \"he drew.\" And (I. xiii. 4):--\n\n     His keen glance turning to view,--instead of \"seeing.\"\n\nAnd, on the other hand, the active instead of the passive:--\n\n     I shall give a tripod with a golden handle,--instead of\n     \"shall be given.\"\n\nIt can be seen how he changes numbers, putting the plural for the\nsingular as often happens in common speech when one speaks of himself as\nif of several, as in the following (O. i. 10):--\n\n     Of these things, goddess daughter of Zeus, from whatsoever\n     source thou wilt declare even to us,--\n\ninstead of \"to me.\"\n\nWe find with him a change of persons of one sort, as (I. v. 877):--\n\n     The other gods, who in Olympus dwell,\n     Are to thee obedient and we are submissive.\n\nFor since there are many gods, among whom is the person speaking, both\nclasses are well indicated by saying, \"they are obedient\" and \"we are\nsubmissive.\" In another way leaving the person who is spoken of, he\nchanges from one to another. This is called specifically Apostrophe, and\naffects us by its emotional character and stimulates the hearer, as in\nthe following stanza (I. xv. 346):--\n\n     While loudly Hector to the Trojans called\n     To assail the ships and leave the bloody spoils\n     Whom I elsewhere and from the ships aloof\n     Shall find,--\n\nchanging from the narrative to direct discourse. In the narration itself\nhe often uses Apostrophe (I. xx. 2.):\n\n     Round thee eager for the fray stood the sons of Greece.\n\nBut he makes use of direct narrative and change of persons, as in the\nfollowing passage (I. ii. 337):--\n\n     Like children, Grecian warriors, ye debate\n     Like babes to whom unknown are feats of arms.\n     Atrides thou, as is thy wont, maintain\n     Unchang'd thy counsel; for the stubborn fight\n     Array the Greeks.\n\nThere is another kind of this Apostrophe (I. ii. 344):--\n\n     Thou wouldst not know to whom Tydides may join himself,--\n\ninstead of \"no one can know.\"\n\nAnd again (O. ix. 210):--\n\n     And a marvellous sweet smell went up from the mixing bowl:\n     then truly it was no pleasure to refrain.\n\n58. He uses participles in the place of verbs, as in these words (I.\nviii. 306):--\n\n     Weighed down in a garden by this fruit,--\n\ninstead of \"it is weighed,\" and (O. xiii. 113):--\n\n     Thither they as having knowledge of that place drive\n     their ships,--\n\ninstead of \"before they knew.\"\n\nAnd articles he often changes, setting demonstrative instead of\nrelatives (I. xvi. 150):--\n\n     Whom Podarge, swift of foot, to Zephyr bore,--and the contrary\n     (I. xvii. 460):--\n\n     And breastplate: for his own his faithful friend hath lost.\n\nSo he was wont to change prepositions (I. i. 424):--\n\n     Yesterday he went through the banquet,--instead of \"to the banquet.\"\n\nAnd (I. i. 10):--\n\n     And he stirred up an evil plague through the army.\n\nLikewise he joins with a preposition a noun improperly, as in the verse\n(I. x. 101):--\n\n     Lest perchance they wish to decide the contest in the night,--\n\nwhere the preposition is followed by, the accusative, not the\ngenitive. And as to other prepositions, some he changes, some he omits\n(I. ii. 696):--\n\n     Of whom he lies lamenting,--instead of \"concerning whom.\"\n\nAnd (O. xxiii. 91):--\n\n     Expecting whether he would bespeak him,--instead of\n     \"speak to him.\"\n\nAnd other prepositions he in the same fashion changes or leaves out. And\nadverbs he changes, using indifferently motion towards, rest in, and\nmotion from a place (I. xx. 151):--\n\n     His grandchildren were setting down from elsewhere,--instead of\n     \"elsewhere\" (I. vii. 219):--\n\n     And Ajax came from near,--instead of \"near.\"\n\nFinally he has changes of conjunctions, as (O. i. 433):--\n\n     He never lay with her and he shunned the wrath of his lady,--\n     instead of \"for he shunned,\" etc.  And these are the figures of\n     speech which not only all poets but the writers of prose have\n     employed.\n\nBut significance is given by him in many ways. One of which is\nProanaphonesis, which is used when any one in the midst of a narration\nuses an order proper to other things, as in the following line (O. xxi,\n98):--\n\n     He was to be the first that should taste the arrow,--\n     and Epiphonesis (I. xvii. 32):--\n\n     After the event may e'en a fool be wise.\n\nThe use of Prosopopoiia is frequent and varied with him. For he\nintroduces many different people speaking together, to whom he\nattributes various characteristics. Sometimes he re-creates characters\nno longer living, as when he says (I. vii. 125):--\n\n     What grief would fill the aged Pellus's soul.\n\nThere is, too, Diatyposis, which is the working out of things coming\ninto being or actually existent or that have come to pass, brought in to\nmake what is said clearer, as in the following (I. ix. 593):--\n\n     The slaughtered men, the city burnt with fire,\n     The helpless children and deep-bosomed dames.\n\nOr, to produce pity (I. xxii. 60):--\n\n     Look, too, on me with pity: me on whom\n     E'en on the threshold of mine age, hath Jove\n     A bitter burthen cast, condemned to see\n     My sons struck down, my daughters dragged away\n     In servile bonds: our chamber's sanctity\n     Invaded; and our babes by hostile hands\n     Dashed to the ground.\n\nThere is also to be found in him Irony, i.e. an expression revealing\nthe opposite of what is said with a certain ethical artifice; as in the\nspeech of Achilles (I. ix. 391):--\n\n     Let him choose among the Greeks a fitter King.\n\nFor he hints that he would not find one of more royal temper. And this\nis the same Trope used when one speaks about himself in extenuation and\ngives a judgment contrary to one's own. There is another form when any\none pretends to praise another and really censures him. As the verse in\nHomer, put in the mouth of Telemachus (O. xvii. 397):--\n\n     Antinous--verily thou hast good care of me, as it were a\n     father for his son.\n\nFor he says to an enemy that he cares as a father for his son, and,\nagain, when any one by way of jest extolls his neighbor, as the suitors\n(O. ii. 325):--\n\n     In my truth Telemachus planneth our destruction.  He will\n     bring a rescue either from sandy Pylos, or it may be from\n     Sparta, so terribly is he set on slaying us.\n\nSarcasm is a species of Irony used when any one jibes at another with\na pretence of smiling. As Achilles, in the following passage (I. ix.\n335):--\n\n     He meted out\n     Their several portions, and they hold them still.\n     From me, from me alone of all the Greeks,\n     He bore away and keeps my cherished wife.\n     Well! let him keep her, solace of his bed.\n\nLike this in kind is Allegory, which exhibits one thing by another, as\nin the following (O. xxii. 195):--\n\n     Now in good truth Melanthiusi shalt thou watch all night,\n     lying on, a soft bed as beseems thee.\n\nFor being in chains and hanging, he says he can rest on a soft bed.\n\nOften, too, he makes use of Hyperbole, which, by exaggerating the truth,\nindicates emphasis, as (I. x. 437):--\n\n     These surpass in brilliancy the snow, in speed the eagle.\n\nHomer used Tropes and figures of this sort and handed them down to\nposterity, and justly obtains glory beyond all others.\n\nSince there are also Characters of speech called Forms, of which one is\nCopiousness, the other Gracefulness, and the third Restraint, let us see\nif Homer has all these separate classes, on which poets and orators\nhave worked after him. There are examples of these--copiousness in\nThucydides, gracefulness in Lysias, restraint in Demosthenes. That is\ncopious which by combination of words and sentences has great emphasis.\nAn example of this is (O. v. 291):--\n\n     With that he gathered the clouds and troubled the waters of\n     the deep, rasping his trident in his hands: and he roused all\n     storms of all manner of winds and shrouded in clouds the land\n     and sea: and down sped night from heaven.\n\nThe graceful is delicate by the character of the matter. It is drawn out\nby the way it is expressed (I. vi. 466).--\n\n     Thus he spake, great Hector stretch'd his arms\n     To take the child: but back the infant shrank,\n     Crying, and sought his nurse's sheltering breast,\n     Scar'd by the brazen helm and horse-hair plume.\n\nThe restrained is between the two, the copious and the graceful, as (O.\nxxii. 291):--\n\n     Then Odysseus, rich in counsel, stripped him of his rags and\n     leaped on the great threshold with his bow and quiver full of\n     arrows, and poured forth all the swift shafts there before his\n     feet, and spake among the wooers.\n\nBut the florid style of speech, which has beauty and capacity for\ncreating delight and pleasure, like a flower, is frequent in our poet;\nhis poetry is full of such examples. The kinds of phrasing have much\nnovelty in Homer, as we shall go on to show, by giving a few examples\nfrom which the rest may be gathered.\n\nEvery type of style practised among men is either historical, theoretic,\nor political. Let us examine whether the beginnings of these are to\nbe found in him. Historical style contains a narration of facts.\nThe elements of such a narration are character, cause, place, time,\ninstrument, action, feeling, manner. There is no historical narration\nwithout some of these. So it is with our poet, who relates many things\nin their development and happening. Sometimes in single passages can be\nfound relations of this kind.\n\nOf character, as the following (I. v. 9):--\n\n     There was one Dores 'mid the Trojan host,\n     The priest of Vulcan, rich, of blameless life;\n     Two gallant sons he had, Idaeus named\n     And Phegeus, skilled in all the points of war.\n\nHe describes features, also, as in the case of Thersites (I. ii. 217):--\n\n     With squinting eyes, and one distorted foot,\n     His shoulders round, and buried in his breast\n     His narrow head, with scanty growth of hair.\n\nAnd many other things, in which he often pictures the type or appearance\nor character, or action or fortune of a person, as in this verse (I. xx.\n215):--\n\n     Dardanus first, cloud-compelling\n     Zeus begot,--and the rest.\n\nThere is in his poetry description of locality; where he speaks about\nthe island near that of the Cyclops, in which he describes the look of\nthe place, its size, its quality, and the things in it, and what is near\nit. Also, when he describes the things adjacent to the island of Calypso\n(O. v. 63):--\n\n     And round about the cave there was a wood-blossoming alder\n     and poplar, and sweet-smelling cypress.\n\nAnd what follows. And innumerable other things of the same kind.\n\nTime narratives are found as follows (I. ii. 134):--\n\n     Already now nine weary years have passed.\n\nAnd (I. ii. 303):--\n\n     Not long ago, when ships of Greece were met at Aulis charged\n     with evil freight for Troy.\n\nThen there are the causes, in which he shows why something is coming to\npass or has come to pass. Such are the things said at the beginning of\nthe \"Iliad\" (I. i. 8):--\n\n     Say then, what god the fatal strife provoked\n     Jove's and Latona's son; he filled with wrath\n     Against the King, with deadly pestilence\n     The Camp afflicted--and the people died\n     For Chryses' sake, his priest, whom Atreus' son\n     With scorn dismissed,\n\n--and the rest.  In this passage he says the cause of the difference\nbetween Achilles and Agamemnon was the plague; but the plague was caused\nby Apollo, and his wrath was due to the insult put upon his priest.\n\nDescription of the instrument he gives, as when he tells of the shield\nmade by Vulcan for Achilles. And there is a briefer one on the spear of\nHector (I. viii. 493):--\n\n                       In his hand\n     His massive spear he held twelve cubits long,\n     Whose glittering point flash'd bright with hoop of gold\n     Encircled round.\n\nNarrations of fact are of several kinds, some like the following (I.\nvii. 60):--\n\n     When in the midst they met, together rush'd\n     Bucklers and lances, and the furious might\n     Of mail-clad warriors; bossy shield on shield\n     Clattered in conflict; loud the clamor rose.\n\nThe emotional narrative is where the incident is connected with some\npersonal cause or energy, as when he speaks about things arising from\nanger or fear or sorrow, or when people are wounded, killed, or any\nother such thing happens to them. As a specimen of cause, take the\nfollowing (I. i. 103):--\n\n     His dark soul filled with fury, and his eyes\n     Flashed like flames of fire.\n\nOf an action (I. xvii. 51):--\n\n     Those locks, that with the Graces hair might vie,\n     Those tresses bright, with gold and silver bound,\n     Were dabbled all with blood.\n\nA Trope is constructive of action, or experience, or form, according as\none acts in a special way or is acted upon. He follows the whole scene\nin this sort of narrative. An example of it would be as follows (O.\nxxii. 15):--\n\n     But Odysseus aimed and smote him with the arrow in his throat,\n     and the point passed clean out through his delicate neck and\n     he fell back, and the cup dropped from his hand as he was\n     smitten, and at once through his nostrils there came up a\n     thick jet of slain man's blood.\n\nThere is also in Homer narration which has for the most part copious\nexpression, a method of working in full, fitting the subject. Sometimes,\nhowever, it is concise, as in the following (I. xviii. 20):--\n\n     Patroclus lies in death,\n     And o'er his body now the war is waged,\n     His naked body, for his arms are now\n     The prize of Hector of the glancing helmet.\n\nThis type is often useful, for the quickness of the words make the\nreader and speaker more intent, and he immediately takes in the subject.\n\nSometimes he tells his story lightly; sometimes by an image or likeness\nor simile. An image, as when he says (O. xix. 53):--\n\n     Now forth from her chamber came the wise Penelope like\n     Artemis or golden Aphrodite.\n\nA likeness as (I. iii. 196):--\n\n     He like a goat crossed the serried lines first.\n\nA simile, when he makes a comparison of closely related things that has\na connection with subject narrated. There are in Homer various kinds of\nsimiles. Constantly and in many ways he compares the behavior and nature\nof animals to the arts and habits of men.\n\nSometimes he takes a similitude from very small things, not considering\nthe size of the body, but the nature of each; whence he likens boldness\nto a fly (I. xvii. 570):--\n\n     And she breathed in his breast the courage of the fly.\n\nAnd he compares assiduity to the same creature (I. ii. 469):--\n\n     As the many generations of numberless flies.\n\nThe packing together and orderly moving crowd to bees (I. ii. 87):--\n\n     As are the crowds of countless bees.\n\nSo he shows anger and irritation (I. xvi. 259):--\n\n     Like skilful wasps.\n\nAnd he adds in the same place \"when boys are wont to tease,\" in order\nthat he might heighten their passionate temper by being stirred up by\nchildren. Of a continuous sound, he says (I. iii. 151):--\n\n     Abundant as the cricket.\n\nFor it is a most chattering creature and incessant in it.\n\nBut those that produce with no order all kinds of sounds, he likens to\n(I. iii. 3):--\n\n     Just as the clamor of geese strikes to heaven.\n\nBut the multitudes resting in order, he likens to birds settling down\n(I. ii. 493):--\n\n     Sitting down with clamor.\n\nSharpness of sight and act he sometimes likens to the falcon (I. xv.\n238):--\n\n     Like to a falcon, swooping on a dove, swiftest of birds.\n\nBut sometimes to an eagle (I. xvii. 676):--\n\n     Like to an eagle, famed of sharpest sight\n     Of all that fly beneath the vault of Heav'n\n     Whom, soaring in the clouds, the crouching dove\n     Eludes not.\n\nHe declares its sharpness by its seeing from afar off; its swiftness,\nby its seizing a very active animal. A man, overcome by the sight of an\nenemy he compares to one who sees a snake, for he does not hesitate to\ntake examples from reptiles (I. iii. 33):--\n\n     As when some traveller spies, could in his path upon the\n     mountain side, a deadly snake.\n\nFrom the other animals he takes examples; of timidity from the hare and\nalso from the stag (I. iv. 243):--\n\n     Why stand ye thus like timid fawns?\n\nFrom dogs sometimes he takes daring (I. x. 360):--\n\n     And as the hounds, well practis'd in the chase.\n\nSometimes love for their offspring (I. x. 14):--\n\n     As a dog loves and defends its pups.\n\nBut sometimes their readiness in watching (I. x. 183):--\n\n     As round a sheepfold keep their anxious watch\n     The dogs.\n\nA capture done with passion and boldness he is wont to compare to wolves\n(I. xvi. 352):--\n\n     As rav'ning wolves that lambs or kids assail.\n\nBravery and constancy he shows by wild boars, panthers, and lions,\ndividing to each one what belongs to its nature. From boars, the\nonslaught they have, in fighting, making it irresistible (I. iv. 253):--\n\n     Idomeneus of courage stubborn as the forest boar.\n\nFrom panthers, inexhaustible daring (I. xxi. 577):--\n\n     As when a panther by the spear transfixed does not remit\n     her rage.\n\nFrom lions, hesitation, finally bravery, as (I. xx. 171):--\n\n     And with his tail he lashes both his flanks and limbs.\n\nAgain the rush of a valiant man he likens to a horse which has had a\nfull meal (I. vi. 506):--\n\n     As some proud steed, at well-fill'd manger fed.\n\nAnd, on the contrary, one slow to move; but in endurance not easily\novercome, he shows in this way (I. xi. 558):--\n\n     As near a field of corn, a stubborn ass o'powers his\n     boyish guides.\n\nThe kingly temper and dignity he expresses in the following (I. ii.\n480):--\n\n     As 'mid the thronging heifers in a herd\n     Stands, proudly eminent, the lordly bull.\n\nHe does not omit similes taken from marine creatures, the perseverance\nof a polypus and the difficulty of removing it from a rock (O. v.\n432):--\n\n     As when the cuttlefish is dragged forth from his chamber.\n\nThe leadership and prominence of the dolphin over the rest (I. xxi.\n22):--\n\n     As fishes flying from a dolphin.\n\nOftentimes things made by men he compares to others similarly made, as\nin this (I. xi. 67):--\n\n     The rival bands of reapers mow the swathe.\n\nShowing the resistance and bravery of men. But one lamenting ignobly, he\nblames in a clear comparison (I. xvi. 7):--\n\n     Why weeps Patroelus like an infant girl?\n\nHe dared to compare human actions to the elements of nature, as in the\nfollowing passage (I. ii. 394):--\n\n       From th' applauding ranks of Greece\n       Rose a loud sound, as when the ocean wave,\n       Driv'n by the south wind on some lofty beach,\n       Dashes against a prominent crag expos'd\n       To blasts from every storm that wars around.\n\nIn these it is plain he used Hyperbola and Amplification, for he was not\nsatisfied with comparing the clamor to the sound of the wind, but to\nthe waves beating on a craggy shore, where the high sea makes the noise\ngreater. Nor is the tempest an ordinary one, but it comes from the\nsouth, which especially stirs up the billows, and it is driven against\na projecting crag stretching out into the sea, and surrounded by it, and\nit has the sea over it constantly, and from every side the winds blow\nand fall upon it. Such things as these are worked out by him in his\ndescriptions. From a few examples we can become acquainted with many.\n\nLet us see if the other forms of narrative are to be found in our author\nand how he took cognizance of them and clearly prepared them. We will\ngive a few examples and so facilitate acquaintance with the rest.\n\nThere is the theoretic style, which embraces what is called speculative\nmatter, which is a knowledge of the truth conceived in art. By these it\nis possible to know the nature of reality, both divine and human things,\nand to discriminate virtues and vices in morals and to learn how to\nattain truth by logical skill. These things are the province of those\nwho are occupied in philosophy, which is divided into natural, ethical,\nand dialectical. If we find out Homer supplying the beginnings and the\nseeds of all these, is he not, beyond all others, worthy of admiration?\nBecause he shows matters of intelligence by dark sayings and mythical\nexpressions, it ought not to be considered strange. The reason is to be\nfound in poetic art and ancient custom. So those who desired to learn,\nbeing led by a certain intellectual pleasure, might the easier seek and\nfind the truth, and that the unlearned might not despise what they are\nnot able to understand. For what is indicated indirectly is stimulating,\nwhile what is said clearly is valued more moderately.\n\nLet us begin with the beginning and creation of the whole universe,\nwhich Thales the Milesian refers to the substance water, and let us see\nwhether Homer first discovered this when he said (I. xiv. 246):--\n\n     Even to the stream of old Oceanus Prime origin of all.\n\nAfter him Xenophanes of Colophon, laying down that the first elements\nwere water and land, seems to have taken this conception from the\nHomeric poems (I. vii. 99):--\n\n    To dust and water turn all ye who here inglorious sit.\n\nFor he indicates their dissolution into the original elements of the\nuniverse. But the most likely opinion makes four elements,--fire, air,\nwater, earth. These Homer shows he knows, as in many places he makes\nmention of them.\n\nHe knew, too, the order of their arrangement. We shall see that the land\nis the lowest of them all, for as the world is spherical, the sky,\nwhich contains all things, can reasonably be said to have the highest\nposition. The earth being in the midst everywhere is below what\nsurrounds it. This the poet declares chiefly in the lines where he says\nif Zeus let a chain down from Olympus, he could turn over the land and\nsea so that everything would be in the air (I. viii. 23):--\n\n     But if I choose to make my pow'r be known,\n     The earth itself and ocean I could raise,\n     And binding round Olympus' ridge the cord\n     Leave them suspended so in middle air.\n\nAlthough the air is around the earth, he says the ether is higher in the\nfollowing lines (I. xiv. 287):--\n\n     And going up on a lofty pine, which then grew on the summit\n     of Ida and through the air reached into the ether.\n\nBut higher than the ether is heaven (I. xvii. 424):--\n\n     And thus they fought: the iron clangor pierc'd\n     The airless ether and brazen vault of Heaven.\n\nAnd, besides, in the following (I. i. 497):--\n\n     The vapor ascended to the great heaven and to Olympus.\n\nThe top part of the air is finer and more distant from the earth and its\nexhalations. Therefore it is said Olympus is called \"wholly shining.\"\nWhere the poet says Hera is the wife of Zeus, although she is his\nsister, he seems to speak in an allegory, since Hera stands for the air,\nwhich is a humid substance. Therefore he says (I. xxi. 6):--\n\n     Hera spread before their path clouds of thick darkness.\n\nBy Zeus is signified the ether, that is the fiery and heated substance\n(I. xv. 192):--\n\n    Broad Heav'n amid the sky and clouds, to Jove.\n\nThey seem brother and sister on account of a certain likeness and\nrelationship, because both are light and mobile; they dwell together and\nare intimate, because from their intercourse all things are generated.\nTherefore they meet in Ida, and the land produces for them plants and\nflowers.\n\nThe same explanation have those words in which Zeus says he will, hang\nHera and fasten two weights to her feet, namely, the land and the sea.\nHe works out especially the principles of the elements in what Poseidon\nsays to him (I. xv. 187):--\n\n     We were brethren, all of Rhaea born\n     To Saturn: Jove and I and Pluto third,\n     Who o'er the nether regions holds his sway,\n\nand (I. xv. 189):--\n\n     Threefold was our partition: each obtain'd\n     His meed of honor due.\n\nAnd in the division of the whole, Zeus obtained the element fire,\nPoseidon water, and Hades that of air. Him he also calls \"aerial\ndarkness,\" because the air has no proper light, but is lightened by the\nsun, moon, and other planets.\n\nThe fourth part was left common to all, for the primal essence of the\nthree elements is always in motion. The earth alone remains unmoved, to\nwhich he added also Olympus; it may have been because it is a mountain,\nbeing a part of the earth. If it belongs to heaven, as being the most\nbrilliant and purest part of it, this may be the fifth essence in the\nelements, as certain distinguished philosophers think. So he, with\nreason, has conjectured it was common, the lowest part belonging to the\nearth by its weight, and the top parts to Olympus by their lightness.\nThe natures between the two are borne upward to the one and downward to\nthe other.\n\nSince the nature of the elements is a combination of contraries, of\ndryness and moisture, hot and cold, and since by their relation and\ncombination all things are constructed and undergo partial changes,--the\nwhole not admitting of dissolution,--Empedocles says all things exist\nin this manner: \"Sometimes in love all things meeting together in one.\nSometimes, again, each being carried away by animosity of hate.\" The\nconcord and unity of the elements he calls love, their opposition, hate.\n\nBefore his time Homer foreshadowed love and hate in what he says in his\npoetry (I. xiv. 200):--\n\n     I go to visit old Oceanus\n     The sire of gods, and Tethys,\n     I go to visit them and reconcile a lengthen'd feud.\n\nA similar meaning has the myth about, Aphrodite and Ares, the one having\nthe same force as Empedocles's love, the other his hate. When they\nsometimes come together, and again separate, the sun reveals them,\nHephaestus binds them, and Poseidon releases them. Whence it is evident\nthat the warm and dry essence, and the contrary of these, the cold and\nwet, sometimes combine all things and again dissolve them.\n\nRelated to these is what is said by other poets that by the intercourse\nof Ares and Aphrodite arises Harmony; a combination of contraries grave\nand acute analogously accommodating themselves to one another. By which\narrangement things which are endowed with a contrary nature are all\nmutually opposed. The poet seems to have signified this enigmatically\nin the conflict of the gods, in which he makes some help the Greeks and\nsome the Trojans, showing allegorically the character of each. And he\nset over against Poseidon Phoebus, the cold and wet against the hot and\ndry: Athene to Ares, the rational to the irrational, that is, the good\nto the bad. Hera to Artemis, that is, the air to the moon, because the\none is stable and the other unstable. Hermes to Latona, because\nspeech investigates and remembers, but oblivion is contrary to these.\nHephaestus to the River God, for the same reason that the sun is opposed\nto the sea. The spectator of the fight was the primary god, and he is\nmade taking joy in it.\n\nFrom the afore-mentioned matter Homer seems to show this: that the world\nis one and finite. For if it had been infinite, it would never have been\ndivided in a number having a limit. By the name \"all\" he signifies the\ncollective whole. For in many other cases he uses the plural for the\nsingular. He signifies the same thing more clearly in saying (I. xiv.\n200):--\n\n     The ends of the earth,--and again where he says (I. vii. 478):--\n\n                  Nor should I care\n     Though thou wert thrust beneath the lowest deep\n     Of earth and ocean,--and in\n\n     On the very top of many-peaked Olympus where there is a top,\n     there, too, is a limit.\n\nHis opinions about the sun are plain. That it has an orbicular energy\nsometimes appearing over the earth, sometimes going under it, this he\nmakes evident by saying (O. x. 190):--\n\n     My friends, lo we know not where is the place of darkness or\n     of dawning, nor where the sun that gives light to men goes\n     beneath the earth, nor where he rises.\n\nAnd that he is always preceding over us and on this account is called\nHyperion by our poet; that he makes the sun rising from the water which\nsurrounds the earth the ocean, that the sun descends into it, is clearly\nexpressed. First, as to the rising (O. iii. l):--\n\n     Now the sun arose and left the lovely mere speeding to the\n     brazen heaven, to give light to the immortals and to mortal\n     men on the earth.\n\nIts setting (I. vii. 486):--\n\n     The sun, now sunk beneath the ocean wave,\n     Drew o'er the teeming earth the veil of night.\n\nAnd he declares its form (O. xix. 234):--\n\n     He was brilliant as the sun,\n\nand its size (I. xi. 735):--\n\n     We as sunlight overspread the earth.\n\nand more in the following (O. iv. 400):--\n\n     So often as the sun in his course has reached the\n     mid-heaven,--and its power (O. ii. log):--\n\n     Of Helios, who overseeth all and ordereth all things.\n\nFinally that it has a soul, and in its movement is guided by choice in\ncertain menaces it makes (O. xii. 383):--\n\n     I will go down to Hades and shine among the dead.\n\nAnd on this thus Zeus exhorts him:--\n\n     Helios, see that thou shine on amidst the deathless gods amid\n     mortal men upon the earth, the grain giver.\n\nFrom which it is plain that the sun is not a fire, but some more potent\nbeing, as Aristotle conjectured. Assuredly, fire is borne aloft, is\nwithout a soul, is easily quenchable and corruptible; but the sun is\norbicular and animate, eternal and imperishable.\n\nAnd as to the other planets scattered through the heavens, that Homer is\nnot ignorant is evident in his poems (I. xviii. 480):--\n\n     Pleiads and Hyads and Orions might.\n\nThe Bear which always encircles the North Pole is visible to us. By\nreason of its height it never touches the horizon, because in an equal\ntime, the smallest circle in which the Bear is, and the largest in which\nOrion is, revolves in the periphery of the world. And Bootes, slowly\nsinking because it makes a frequent setting, has that kind of position,\nthat is carried along in a straight line. It sinks with the four signs\nof Zodiac, there being six zodiacal signs divided in the whole night.\nThat he has not gone through all observations of the stars, as Aratus or\nsome of the others, need be surprising to no one. For this was not his\npurpose.\n\nHe is not ignorant of the causes of disturbances to the elements as\nearthquakes and eclipses, since the whole earth shares in itself air,\nfire, and water, by which it is surrounded. Reasonably, in its depths\nare found vapors full of spirit, which they say being borne outward move\nthe air; when they are restrained, they swell up and break violently\nforth. That the spirit is held within the earth they consider is caused\nby the sea, which sometimes obstructs the channels going outward, and\nsometimes by withdrawing, overturns parts of the earth. This Homer knew,\nlaying the cause of earthquakes on Poseidon, calling him Earth Container\nand Earth Shaker.\n\nNow, then, when these volatile movements are kept within the earth, the\nwinds cease to blow, then arises the darkness and obscurity of the sun.\nLet us see whether he was aware also of this. He made Poseidon moving\nthe earth after Achilles issued forth to fight. For he had previously\nmentioned on the day before what the state of the air was. In the\nincident of Sarpedon (I. xvi. 567):--\n\n     Zeus extended opaque shadows over the fight,--\n\nand again in the case of Patroclus (I. xvii. 366):--\n\n     Now might ye deem the glorious sun himself nor moon was safe,\n     for darkest clouds of night overspread the warriors.\n\nAnd a little while afterward Ajax prays (I. xvii. 645):--\n\n     O Father Jove, from o'er the sons of Greece,\n     Remove this cloudy darkness; clear the sky\n     That we may see our fate.\n\nBut after the earthquake, the vapor issuing forth, there are violent\nwinds, whence Hera says (I. xxi. 334):--\n\n     While from the sea I call the strong blast\n     Of Zephyr and brisk Notus who shall drive\n     The raging flames ahead.\n\nOn the following day Iris calls the winds to the pyre of Patroclus (I.\nxxiii. 212):--\n\n     They with rushing sound rose and before them drove the\n     hurrying clouds.\n\nSo the eclipse of the sun takes place in a natural manner, when the moon\non its passage by it goes under it perpendicularly and is darkened. This\nhe seems to have known. For he said before that Odysseus was about to\ncome (O. xiv. 162):--\n\n     As the old moon wanes, and the new is born;--\n\nthat is, when the month ends and begins, the sun being conjoined\nwith the moon at the time of his coming. The seer says to the suitors\n(O. xiv. 353):--\n\n     Ah, wretched men, what woe is this ye suffer, shrouded in\n     night are your heads and your faces and knees, and kindled is\n     the voice of wailing and the path is full of phantoms and full\n     is the court, the shadows of men hasting hellwards beneath the\n     gloom, and the sun is perished out of heaven, and an evil mist\n     has overspread the world.\n\nHe closely observed the nature of the winds, how they arise from the\nmoist element. For the water transformed goes into air. The wind is air\nin motion. This he shows in very many places, and where he says (O. v.\n478):--\n\n     The force of the wet winds blew,--\n\nhe arranged the order of their series (O. v. 295):--\n\n     The East wind and the South wind clashed and the stormy West\n     and the North that is born in the bright air, welling onwards\n     a great wave.\n\nOf these one comes from the rising, one from the midday quarter, one\nfrom the setting, one from the north.\n\nAnd Subsolanus, being humid, changes into the South, which is warm. And\nthe South, rarefying, is changed into the East; but the East, becoming\nfurther rarefied, is purified into the North wind, therefore (O. v.\n385):--\n\n     She roused the swift North and brake the waves before him.\n\nTheir contention he explains naturally (O. v. 331):--\n\n     Now the South would toss it to the North to carry, and now\n     again the East would yield it to the West.\n\nHe knew besides that the North Pole is suspended over the earth, and how\nit weighs on the men who dwell in that climate. But the South Pole,\non the contrary, is profound; as when he says of the North Pole (O. v.\n296):--\n\n     And the North that is born in the bright air rolling on a\n     great wave on the Southwest wind.\n\n(O. iii. 295):--\n\n     Where the Southwest wind drives a great wave against the\n     left headland.\"\n\nFor by saying \"rolling\" he notes the force of the wave rushing on from\nabove, but the wind \"driving\" signifies a force applied to what is\nhigher, coming from what is lower.\n\nThat the generation of rains comes from the evaporation of the humid, he\ndemonstrates, saying (I. xi. 54):--\n\n     Who sent from Heav'n a show'r of blood-stained rain,--\n\nand (I. xvi. 459):--\n\n     But to the ground some drops of blood let fall,--\n\nfor he had previously said (I. vii. 329):--\n\n     Whose blood, beside Scamander's flowing stream,\n     Fierce Mars has shed, while to the viewless shade\n     Their spirits are gone,--\n\nwhere it is evident that humors of this sort exhaled from the\nwaters about the earth, mixed with blood, are borne upward. The same\nargument is found in the following (I. xvi. 385):--\n\nAs in the autumnal season when the earth with weight of rain is\nsaturate,--for then the sun on account of the dryness of the ground\ndraws out humors from below and brings from above terrestrial\ndisturbances. The humid exhalations produce rains, the dry ones, winds.\nWhen the wind is in impact with a cloud and by its force rends the\ncloud, it generates thunder and lightning. If the lightning falls, it\nsends a thunderbolt. Knowing this our poet speaks as follows (I. xvii.\n595):--\n\n     His lightnings flash, his rolling thunders roar.\n\nAnd in another place (O. xii. 415):--\n\n     In that same hour Zeus thundered and cast his bolt upon\n     the ship.\n\nJustly thinking men consider that gods exist, and first of all Homer.\nFor he is always recalling the gods (I. i. 406):--\n\n     The blessed gods living a happy life.\n\nFor being immortal they have an easy existence and an inexhaustible\nabundance of life. And they do not need food of which the bodies of\nmortal men have need (I. v. 341):--\n\n     They eat no bread, they drink no ruddy wine,\n     And bloodless and deathless they become.\n\nBut poetry requires gods who are active; that he may bring the notion of\nthem to the intelligence of his readers he gives bodies to the gods. But\nthere is no other form of bodies than man's capable of understanding\nand reason. Therefore he gives the likeness of each one of the gods the\ngreatest beauty and adornment. He has shown also that images and statues\nof the gods must be fashioned accurately after the pattern of a man to\nfurnish the suggestion to those less intelligent, that the gods exist.\n\nBut the leader and head of all these, the chief god the best\nphilosophers think, is without a body, and is rather comprehensible by\nthe intelligence. Homer seems to assume this; by him Zeus is called (I.\niv. 68):--\n\n     The Sire of gods and men. O father ours, son of Kronos, chief\n     of the greater beings.\n\nAnd Zeus himself says (I. viii. 27):--\n\n     As much as I am better than gods and men.\n\nAnd Athene says of him (I. viii. 32):--\n\n     Well do we know thy power invincible.\n\nIf it is necessary to ask how he knew that God was an object of the\nintelligence, it was not directly shown, as he was using poetic form\ncombined with myth. Yet we can gather it from the things he says (I. i.\n498):--\n\n     The all-seeing son of Saturn there she found sitting apart.\n\nAnd where he himself says (I. xx. 22):--\n\n     Yet he will upon Olympus' lofty ridge remain and view serene\n     the combat.\"\n\nThat solitude and the not mingling with the other gods, but being gladly\nby himself and using leisure for one directing and ordering all things,\nthese constitute the character of an \"intelligible\" God. He knew besides\nthat God is mind and understands all things, and governs all. For\ncensuring Poseidon, he says (I. xiii. 354):--\n\n     Equal the rank of both, their birth the same,\n     But Jupiter in wisdom as in years the first.\n\nAnd this expression frequently is used \"when he again thought over other\nthings.\" This shows that he was ever in thought.\n\nBut to the mind of God pertain Providence and Fate, concerning which\nthe philosophers have spoken much. The stimulus to this came from\nHomer,--why should any one insist on the providence of the gods? Since\nin all his poetry not only do they speak to one another on behalf of\nmen, but descending on the earth they associate with men. A few things\nwe shall look at for the sake of illustrations; among these is Zeus\nspeaking to his brother (I. xx. 20):--\n\n     The purpose, Neptune, well thou know'st thyself\n     For which I called thee; true, they needs must die,\n     But still they claim my care.\n\nAnd in other places (I. xxii. 168):--\n\n     A woful sight mine eyes behold: a man\n     I love in plight around the walls! my heart\n     For Hector grieves.\n\nHe refers to the royal dignity of the gods and their loving care of men,\nsaying (O. i. 65):--\n\n     How should I forget divine Odysseus, who in understanding is\n     beyond mortals, and beyond all men hath done sacrifice to the\n     deathless gods who keep the wide heaven?\n\nHow he makes the gods mingling with and working with men themselves\nit is possible to learn completely in many passages for just as he\nrepresents Athene once helping Achilles and always aiding Odysseus, so\nhe represents Hermes helping Priam, and again Odysseus, for he says (O.\nxvii. 485):--\n\n     Yea even the gods, in the likeness of strangers from far\n     countries, put on all manner of shapes, and wander through\n     cities to watch the violence and the righteousness of men.\n\nIt is the characteristic of divine providence to wish men to live\njustly. This the poet indicates very clearly (O. xiv. 83):--\n\n     Verily it is not forward deeds the gods love, but they\n     reverence justice and the righteous acts of men.\n\nAnd (O. xvi. 386):--\n\n                          When Jove\n     Pours down his fiercest storms in wrath to men,\n     Who in their courts unrighteous judgments pass.\n\nThen just as he introduces the gods caring for men, so he represents\nmen as mindful of them in every crisis. As the leader, succeeding in an\naction, says (I. viii. 526):--\n\n     Hopeful to Jove I pray, and all the gods\n     To chase from hence these fate-inflicted hounds.\n\nAnd in danger (I. xvii. 646):--\n\n     Father Jove, from o'er the sons of Greece,\n     Remove this cloudy darkness.\n\nAnd again when one has slayed another (I. xxii. 379):--\n\n     Since heaven has granted us this man to slay.\n\nAnd dying (I. xxii. 358):--\n\n     But see I bring not down upon thy head the wrath of heaven.\n\nFrom what other place than here did originate that doctrine of the\nStoics? I mean this, that the world is one and in it both gods and men\nminister, sharing in justice by their nature. For when he says (I. xx.\n4):--\n\n     Then Jove to Themis gave command to call\n     The gods to council from the lofty height\n     Of many ridg'd Olympus.\n     Why, Lord of lightning, hast thou summoned here\n     The gods of council, dost thou aught desire\n     Touching the Greeks and Trojans?\n\nWhat does this mean except that the world is conducted by civilized laws\nand the gods consult under the presidency of the father of gods and men?\n\nHis opinion on fate he shows clearly in his poems (I. vi. 488):--\n\n     Dearest, wring not thus my heart,\n     For till my day of destiny is come\n     No man may take my life, and when it comes\n     Nor brave, nor coward can escape that day.\n\nBut among the other things in which he confirms the power of fate, he\nthinks as the most-approved philosophers have thought after him,--Plato,\nAristotle, and Theophrastus,--that not all things happen by fate, but\nsome things are in the power of men, the choice of whom is free. The\nsame man in a way acts as he desires and falls into what he does not\ndesire. And this point of view he has clearly expounded in many places,\nas in the beginning of each of his poems: in the \"Iliad\" saying the\nwrath of Achilles was the cause of the destruction of the Greeks and\nthat the will of Zeus was fulfilled; in the \"Odyssey\" that the comrades\nof Odysseus went to their destruction by their own folly. For they had\noffended by touching the sacred oxen of the Sun, although they could\nhave abstained from doing so. Yet it was foreordained (O. xi. 110):--\n\n     But if thou hurtest them, I signify ruin for thy ships, and\n     for thy men, and even though thou shalt thyself escape.\n     If thou doest them no hurt and art careful to return, so may\n     ye yet reach Ithaca, albeit in evil case.\n\nSo not to violate them depended on themselves, but that those who had\ndone the evil should perish follows from fate.\n\nIt is possible to avoid what happens accidentally by foresight as he\nshows in the following (O. v. 436):--\n\n     Then of a truth would luckless Odysseus have perished beyond\n     what was ordained had not gray-eyed Athene given him some\n     counsel. He rushed in and with both his hands clutched the\n     rock whereto he clung till the great wave went by.\n\nThen on the other hand running a great danger as he was, he had perished\nby fortune; yet by prudence he was saved.\n\nJust as about divine things there are many divine reasonings in the\nphilosophers taking their origin from Homer, so also with human affairs\nit is the same. First we will take up the subject of the soul. The\nmost noble of the doctrines of Pythagoras and Plato is that the soul\nis immortal. To it in his argument Plato affixed wings. Who first\ndetermined this? Homer says this among other things (I. xvi. 856):--\n\nBut the soul flying on its members came to Hades,--i.e. into a formless\nand invisible place, whether you think it in the air or under the earth.\nBut in the \"Iliad\" he makes the soul of Patroclus stand by the side of\nAchilles (I. xxiii. 65):--\n\n     The soul of wretched Patroclus came.\n\nHe makes a small speech for him in which he says this (I. xxiii. 72):--\n\n     The spirits and spectres of departed men\n     Drove me from them, nor allow to\n     Cross the abhorred river.\n\nIn the \"Odyssey\" through the whole account of the descent to Hades what\nelse does he show but that souls survive after death, and when they\ndrink blood can speak. For he knows that blood is the food and drink of\nthe spirit, but spirit is the same thing as soul or the vehicle of the\nsoul.\n\n123. Most clearly he reveals that he considers man is nothing else but\nsoul, where he says (O. xi. 90):--\n\n     There came up the soul of the Theban\n     Tiresias having a golden sceptre.\n\nPurposely he changes the word for soul to the masculine, to show that it\nwas Tiresias. And afterward (O. xi. 601):--\n\n     And after him I described the mighty Heracles, his phantom\n     I say; but as for himself he hath joy at the banquet among the\n     deathless gods.\n\nFor here again he showed that the semblance thrown off from the body\nappeared, but no longer connected with its matter. The purest part of\nthe soul had gone away; this was Heracles himself.\n\n124. Whence that seems to philosophers a probable theory that the body\nis in a way the prison house of the soul. And this Homer first revealed;\nthat which belongs to the living he calls [Greek omitted] (from\n\"binding\") as in this line (I. i. 115):--\n\n     Not the body nor the nature.\n\nO. iv. 196:--\n\n     A body came to the woman.\n\nO. xvi. 251:--\n\n     By my form, my virtue, my body.\n\nBut that which has put off the soul he calls nothing else but body as in\nthese lines (I. vii. 79):--\n\n     To bring home my body again.\n\nAnd (O. xxiv. 187):--\n\n     The bodies lie uncared for in the hall of Odysseus.\n\nO. xi. 53:--\n\n     And we left the body in the house of Circe.\n\nFor the same thing, while a man lives, was the bond of the soul; when he\ndies it is left, as it were, his monument.\n\nTo this is related also another doctrine of Pythagoras, namely, that the\nsouls of the dead pass into other forms of bodies. This did not escape\nHomer's notice, for he made Hector talking with horses, and Antilochus\nand Achilles himself not only talking with them but listening to them,\nand a dog recognizing Odysseus before men, even before his intimates.\nWhat other thing is he establishing but a community of speech and a\nrelation of soul between men and beasts? Besides, there are those who\nate up the oxen of the Sun and after this fell into destruction. Does he\nnot show that not only oxen but all other living creatures, as sharers\nof the same common nature, are beloved by the gods?\n\nThe change of the comrades of Odysseus into swine and that type of\nanimal signifies this, that the souls of undeserving men are changed\ninto the likeness of brute beasts; they fall into the circular periphery\nof the whole, which he calls Circe; whereas she is justly represented\nas the child of the Sun, dwelling in the island of Aeaea, for this word\n[Greek omitted] is so called because men lament and wail by reason of\ndeath. But the prudent man Odysseus did not suffer the change, because\nfrom Hermes, i.e. reason, he had received immortality. He went down into\nHades, as it were, dissolving and separating the soul from the body, and\nbecame a spectator of souls both good and bad.\n\nThe Stoics define the soul as a cognate spirit, sensible to exhalations.\nIt has its origin from the humid portions of the body. In this they\nfollow Homer, who says (I. ix. 609).--\n\n     While the breath abides in the breast.\n\nAnd again (I. xxiii. 100):--\n\n     Vanish'd like smoke, the spirit beneath the earth.\n\nHere he makes the vital spirit, being humid, a breath; when it is\nextinguished he likens it to smoke. And the word \"spirit\" itself he uses\nfor soul (I. xv. 262):--\n\n     His words fresh vigor in the chief infus'd.\n\nAnd (I. iv. 524):--\n\n     Breathing away his spirit.\n\nAnd (I. xxii. 475):--\n\n     But when her breath and spirit returned again.\n\nThat is, she collected her distracted spirit (I. v. 697):--\n\n     But soon revived, as on his forehead blew,\n     While yet he gasped for breath, the cooling breeze.\n\nWhile his spirit was failing him in a faint, the outside breeze having\na natural affinity to it brought him back to life. This argument is\nstrengthened because for the external spirit he uses the word \"soul,\"\nsaying (I. xxiii. 440):--\n\n     He turned aside with lightest breath.\n\nHe wishes to say: \"Having got back his breath.\"\n\nPlato and Aristotle considered the soul incorporeal, but always\nassociating with the body and needing it as a vehicle. On this account,\nthen, it drew along the spiritual matter with it, oftentimes as an\nimage, which had the shape of the body impressed upon it. So therefore\nHomer is never in his poetry found calling the soul body, but to what is\ndeprived of soul he always gives the name, as we have mentioned in what\nhas gone before.\n\nThe soul has, according to the views of the philosophers, a rational\npart, seated in the head, and an irrational part of which one element,\nthe passionate, dwells in the heart and another, the appetitive, in the\nintestines. Did not Homer see this distinction when he made in the case\nof Achilles, the rational struggling with the passionate, deliberating\nin the same moment whether he should drive off the one who had filled\nhim with grief or should stay his anger (I. i. 193):--\n\n     Up to this time he revolved these things in his mind\n     and heart,\n\nthat is, the intelligent part and what is opposed to it? The emotional\nanger is represented by him as overcome by prudence. For the appearance\nof Athene signifies this. And in these places he makes reason admonish\nthe emotions, as a ruler giving orders to a subject (O. xx. 18):--\n\n     Endure my heart; yea, a baser thing thou once didst bear.\n\nAnd often the passionate element gives way to reason (I. xx. 22):--\n\n     Pallas indeed sat silent and though inly wroth with Jove,\n     yet answered not a word.\n\nLikewise injury (I. xviii. 112):--\n\n     Though still my heart be sore,\n     Yet will I school my angry spirit down.\n\nSometimes he shows the passionate element getting the better of reason.\nThis he does not praise, but openly blames; as when Nestor speaks\nupbraiding the insult offered by Agamemnon to Achilles (I. ix. 108):--\n\n                   Not by my advice\n     I fain would have dissuaded thee; but thou,\n     Swayed by the promptings of a lofty soul,\n     Didst to our bravest wrong dishonoring him\n     Whom ev'n the Immortals honor'd.\n\nAchilles speaks like things to Ajax (I. ix. 645):--\n\n     All thou hast said hath semblance just and fair,\n     But swells my heart with fury at the thought of him,\n     Of Agamemnon, who, amid the Greeks\n     Assembled, held me forth to scorn.\n\nSo, too, reason is paralysed by fear, where Hector deliberates whether\nhe will abide the conflict with Achilles (I. xxii. 129):--\n\n     Better to dare the fight and know at once\n     To whom Olympian Jove the triumph wills,\n\nThen he withdraws when he gets near Achilles (I. xxii. 136):--\n\n     Nor dared he there await th' attack, but left\n     The gates behind, and terror-stricken fled.\n\nIt is also plain that he places the emotions about the heart. Anger as\n(O. xx. 13):--\n\n     The heart within barked for him.\n\nGrief (I. xiv. 128):--\n\n     How long, my son, wilt thou thy soul consume with grief\n     an mourning?\n\nThen fear (I. x. 95):--\n\n     And leaps my troubled heart as tho' it would burst\n     My bosom's bounds; my limbs beneath me shake.\n\nIn the same way just as fear, so he declares daring to be about the\nheart (I. xvi. 11):--\n\n              And fix'd in every breast\n     The fierce resolve to wage unwearied war.\n\nFrom these passages the Stoics took the opinion that the leading\nelement is about the heart. That the appetitive element is placed in the\nintestines in many places he declares; in these verses, for example (O.\nxviii. 54):--\n\n     But my belly's call is urgent on me, that evil worker,--\n\nand (O. xvii. 286):--\n\n     But now may conceal a ravening belly, a thing accursed.\n\nAnd the causes which belong to the passionate element of the soul he\nsays happen by nature. For wrath created by grief he shows is a kind of\neffervescence of the blood and the spirit in it as in the following (I.\ni. 103):--\n\n     His dark soul filled with fury, and his eyes flashing like\n     flames of fire.\n\nFor he seemed to call spirit [Greek omitted], i.e. wrath, and this in\nthe case of those who are angry he thinks is extended and inflamed.\nAgain the spirit, if there is fear, is perturbed and made cold,\ngenerates tremors and terrors and pallors in the body. Pallor, by the\nheat coursing into the interior ruddiness leaves the surface. Tremor,\nbecause being, confined within the spirit it shakes the body. Terror,\nbecause when the moisture is congealed the hairs are contracted and\nstand on end. All of these Homer clearly indicates when he says (I. xv.\n4):--\n\n     Pallid from fear.\n\nAnd (I. vii. 479):--\n\n     Pallid fear lay hold on him.\n\n(I. x. 95):--\n\n     My valiant members tremble.\n\nAnd (I. xxiv. 358):--\n\n     The old man heard, his mind confus'd with dread,\n     So grievously he fear'd that every hair\n     Upon his bended head did stand on end.\n\nAccording to these passages for \"feared\" he says \"frozen\" and \"fear\" he\ncalls \"freezing.\" On the other hand, for \"daring\" and \"courage\" he uses\n[Greek omitted], \"heat.\" Evil effects, he distinguishes in these ways.\n\nAgain when Aristotle considers indignation a mercy among the generous\nemotions (for when good men are stirred because their neighors seem to\nsucceed beyond their worth, it is called indignation. When they, beyond\ntheir desert, have misfortunes, it is called pity.) These two Homer\nconsiders to belong, to the good, for he reckons them as belonging to\nZeus. Other passages he has as well as the following (I. xi. 542):--\n\n     But Jove, high-throned, the soul of Ajax filled with fear.\n\nAnd in other places he pities him being chased about the wall.\n\nWhat opinion the poet had about virtue and vice he shows in many places.\nFor since one part of the soul is intelligent and rational, and the\nother devoid of reason and open to emotions, and on this account man has\na middle position between God and brute, he thinks the highest, virtue,\nis divine, and the other extremity, evil, is brutelike. Just as later on\nAristotle thought, he adopts these principles in his companions. For\nhe always considers good men to be like gods, and as he says (I. ii.\n167):--\n\n     By a counsel not, unworthy of Zeus.\n\nAmong the evil ones he names cowards (I. xiii. 102):--\n\n     Like to timid stags,--\n\nand to sheep without a shepherd and to hares in flight. About those\nborne headlong and heedlessly to anger (I. xvii. 20):--\n\n     Nor pard, nor lion, nor the forest boar,\n     Fiercest of beasts, and provident of his strength\n     In their own esteem\n     With Panthous' sons for courage nor may vie.\n\nThe laments of those grieving to no purpose he compares to the sounds of\nbirds (O. xvi. 218):--\n\n     Where Younglings the country folk have taken from the nest\n     ere yet they are fledged.\n\nThe Stoics who place virtue in apathy follow the passages in which he\ntakes up every feeling, saying about grief (I. xix. 218):--\n\n     Behoves us bury out of sight our dead,\n     Steeling our heart and weeping but a day.\n\nAnd (I. xvi. 7):--\n\n     Why weep over Patroclus as a girl?\n\nAbout anger (I. xviii. 107):--\n\n     May strife perish from gods and men.\n\nAbout fear (I. v. 252):--\n\n     Do not speak of fear, if thou thinkest to persuade me.\n\nAnd (O. xv. 494):--\n\n     Struck and smitten seeing fate and death, he fell heroicly\n     from the sword.  So those challenged to single combat obey\n     fearlessly, and several arise to take the place of one.\n     And the wounded man has none the less abiding courage.\n\n(I. xi. 388):--\n\n     And now because thy shaft has grazed my foot, thou mak'st\n     thy empty boast.\n\nAnd every valiant person is likened to a lion, boar, to a torrent and\nwhirlwind.\n\nNow the Peripatetics think that freedom from emotion is unattainable\nby men. They bring in a certain mean; by taking away excess of feeling,\nthey define virtue by moderation. And Homer brings in the best men\nneither feeble nor altogether fearless nor devoid of pain, but yet\ndiffering from the worst in not being overcome extravagantly by their\nfeelings. For he says (I. xiii. 279):--\n\n     The cowards color changes, nor his soul\n     Within his heart its even balance keeps\n     But changing still, from foot to foot he shifts,\n     And in his bosom loudly beats his heart\n     Expecting death; and chatter all his teeth.\n     The brave man's color changes not with fear,\n     He knows the ambush ent'ring.\n\nFor it is evident that by taking away excessive fear from the good man\nhe leaves the mean between the two. The same must be thought about the\nlike emotions, pain and anger. To this effect is that verse of his (I.\nvii. 215):--\n\n    The Trojans' limbs beneath them shrank with fear,\n    E'en Hector's heart beat quicker in his breast,\n    The others, even at the sight, trembled.\n\nBut he, in the midst of dangers being brave, was only troubled. So\nhe makes Dolon and Lycaon feeling fear; Ajax and Menelaus, turning\ngradually and going away step by step, as lions driven from their\nquarry. In the same way he shows the differences of those who grieve and\nalso of those who rejoice. As Odysseus, relating the way he deceived the\nCyclops, says (O. ix. 413):--\n\n     My heart within me laughed.\n\nThe suitors seeing the beggar laying on the ground (O. xviii. 100):--\n\n     But the proud wooers threw up their hands, and cried outright\n     for laughter.\n\nBut in more trivial matters the difference of moderation appears.\nOdysseus though loving his wife, and seeing her lamenting on his\naccount, contains himself (O. xix. 211):--\n\n     His eyes kept steadfast between his eyelids as it were\n     horn or iron.\n\nBut the suitors who were in love with her when they saw her (O. xviii.\n212):--\n\n     And straightways the knees of the wooers were loosened, and\n     their hearts were enchanted with love, and each one uttered\n     a prayer that he might be her bedfellow.\n\nSuch is the poet's treatment of the powers and passions of the soul.\n\nAlthough there are various things said by the philosophers about the\nchief end of virtue and happiness, it is agreed by all that virtue of\nthe soul is the greatest of goods. But the Stoics consider that virtue\nby itself is sufficient for happiness, taking the cue from the Homeric\npoems in which he has made the wisest and most prudent man on account\nof virtue despising trouble and disregarding pleasure. As to the first\npoint in this way (O. iv. 242):--\n\n     Now all of them I could not tell or number, so many as were\n     the adventures of the patient Odysseus.  He bruised himself\n     with unseemly stripes and cast a sorry covering over his\n     shoulders, and in the fashion of a servant he went into the\n     wide-wayed city of the foemen.\n\nAnd as to the second, i.e. (O. ix. 29):--\n\n     Vainly Calypso, the fair goddess, would fain have kept me\n     with her in her hollow caves longing to have me for her lord.\n     Circe of Aia would have stayed me in her halls, longing to\n     have me for her lord.  But never did they prevail upon my\n     heart within my breast.\n\nEspecially does he expound his opinion of virtue in the passages in\nwhich he makes Achilles not only brave but most beautiful in form, and\nswiftest of foot, and most illustrious in birth and distinguished in\nrace and aided by the chiefest of the gods; and Odysseus understanding\nand firm in soul--in other respects not enjoying an equal fortune.\nHis stature and aspect not conspicuous, his parentage not altogether\nnoteworthy, his country obscure, hated by a god who was all but first.\nNone of these things prevented him from being famous, from gaining the\nchief good of the soul.\n\nBut the Peripatetic School think the goods of the soul have the\npre-eminence, such as prudence, fortitude, temperance, justice.\nAfterward are those of the body, such as health, strength, beauty,\nswiftness; and there are besides external goods such as reputation,\nnobility, wealth. For they think any one worthy of praise and admiration\nif he, fortified by the protective virtues of the soul, holds out\nagainst evils in the midst of sufferings, disease, want, unforeseen\naccidents, but that this situation is not a desirable nor a happy one.\nFor not only the possession of virtue do they think good, but its use\nand its activity. And these distinctions Homer directly showed, for he\nalways makes the gods (O. viii. 325):--\n\n     The givers of good things,--\n\nthese things also men pray the gods to furnish them, as being plainly\nneither useless to them nor indifferent, but advantageous to happiness.\n\nWhat the goods are men aim at, and through which they are called happy,\nhe declares in many places. But all of them together were centred in\nHermes (I. xxiv. 376):--\n\n     Blessed are thy parents in a son so grac'd,\n     In face and presence, and of mind so wise.\n\nHe bears witness to his beauty of body, his intelligence, and his\nlineage. Separately he takes them up (I. vi. 156):--\n\n     On whom the gods bestowed\n     The gifts of beauty and of manly grace,\n     And Zeus poured out lordly wealth,--\n\nfor this, too, is a gift of God (O. vi. 188):--\n\n     For Zeus himself gives prosperity to mortals.\n\nSometimes he esteems honor a good (I. viii. 540):--\n\n     Would that I might be adored as Athene and Apollo.\n\nSometimes good fortune in children (O. iii. 196):--\n\n     So good a thing it is that a son of the dead should be left.\n\nSometimes, too, the benefit of one's family (O. xiii. 39):--\n\n     Pour ye the drink offering, and send me safe on my way, and\n     as for you, fare ye well.  For now I have all my heart's\n     desire,--an escort and loving gifts.  May the gods of heaven\n     give me good fortune with them and may I find my noble wife\n     in my home, and my friends unharmed while ye, for your part,\n     abide here, and make glad your gentle wives and children, and\n     may the gods vouchsafe all manner of good and may no evil\n     come, nigh the people.\n\nThat in a comparison of goods valor is better than wealth, he shows in\nthe following (I. ii. 872):--\n\n     With childish folly to the war he came,\n     Laden with stress of gold; yet naught availed\n     His gold to save him from the doom of death.\n\nAnd (O. iv. 93):--\n\n     I have no joy of my lordship among these my possessions.\n\nAnd that intelligence is better than beauty of form (O. viii. 169):--\n\n     For one man is feebler than another in presence, yet the\n     gods crown his words with beauty.\n\nIt is evident that bodily excellence and external things he considers\nas good, and that without these virtue alone is not sufficient for\nhappiness he declares in the following way. He created two men who\nattained to the height of virtue, Nestor and Odysseus, different indeed\nfrom one another, but like one another in prudence and valor and power\nof eloquence. He has made them not at all equal in fortune, but on the\nside of Nestor he has placed the gods (O. iv. 208):--\n\n     Right easily is known that man's seed for whom Cronion\n     weaves the skein of luck at bridal and at birth, even as now\n     hath he granted prosperity to Nestor forever, for all his\n     days, that he himself should grow into smooth old age in his\n     halls, and his sons moreover should be wise and the best\n     of spearsmen.\n\nBut Odysseus, though shrewd and clever and prudent, he often calls\nunfortunate. For Nestor goes back home quickly and safely, but Odysseus\nwanders about for a long time and endures constantly innumerable\nsufferings and dangers. So it is a desirable and blessed thing if\nfortune is at hand helping and not opposing virtue.\n\nHow the possession of virtue is of no use unless it accomplishes\nsomething, is evident from the passages where Patroclus complains to\nAchilles and says (I. xvi. 31):--\n\n     Whoe'er may hope in future days by thee\n     To profit, if thou now forbear to save\n     The Greeks from shame and loss.\n\nSo he speaks to him because he makes his virtue useless by inactivity.\nAchilles himself deplores his inactivity (I. xviii. 104:):--\n\n     But idly here I sit cumb'ring the ground,\n     I, who amid the Greeks no equal own\n     In fight,--\n\nfor he laments because though possessing virtue he does not make use of\nit; but being indignant with the Greeks (I. i. 490):--\n\n                 No more he sought\n     The learned council, nor the battlefield;\n     But wore his soul away, and only pined\n     For the fierce joy and tumult of the fight.\n\nAnd so Phoenix admonished him (I, ix. 433):--\n\n     To teach thee how to frame\n     Befitting speech, and mighty deeds achieve.\n\nAfter his death he is indignant at that inertia, saying (O. xi. 489):--\n\n     Rather would I live upon the soil as the hireling of another\n     with a lordless man who had no great livelihood, than bear\n     sway among the dead that are no more.\n\nAnd he adds the cause (O. xi. 498):--\n\n     For I am no longer his champion under the sun, so mighty a\n     man as once I was, when in wide Troy I slew the best of the\n     host, succoring the Argives.\n\nThat saying of the Stoics, that good men are friends of the gods, is\ntaken from Homer, who says about Amphiaerus (O. xv. 245):--\n\n     Whom Zeus, lord of the ages, and Apollo loved with all\n     manner  of love.\n\nAnd of Odysseus (O. iii. 52):--\n\n     And Athene rejoiced in the wisdom and judgment of the man.\n\nThere is, too, an opinion of the same philosophic school that virtue is\nteachable, and has for its beginning good birth. For Homer says (O. iv.\n206):--\n\n     And from such a sire thou too art sprung, wherefore thou dost\n     even speak wisely.\n\nAnd by training it is brought to perfection. For virtue is the knowledge\nof living rightly, i.e. of doing the things which it is necessary for\nthose who live well to do. These principles can also be found in Homer,\nfor he says (I. ix. 440):--\n\n     Inexperienced yet in war, that sorrow brings alike on all\n     And sage debate in which attends renown.\n\nAnd in other places (I. vi. 446):--\n\n     Nor did my heart compel me, since I had learnt to be good,\n\nAnd Phoenix says of Achilles (I. ix. 442):--\n\n     Me then he sent, to teach thee how to frame\n     Befitting speech, and mighty deeds achieve.\n\nFor since life is made up of acts and speech, therefore he says he was\nthe young man's teacher in these things. From what has been said it is\nplain that he declares the whole of virtue to be teachable. So, then,\nHomer is the first philosopher in ethics and in philosophy.\n\nNow to the same science belongs arithmetic and music, which Pythagoras\nespecially honored. Let us see whether these are mentioned by our poet.\nVery often. A few examples from very many will suffice. For Pythagoras\nthought number had the greatest power and reduced everything to\nnumbers--both the motions of the stars and the creation of living\nbeings. And he established two supreme principles,--one finite unity,\nthe other infinite duality. The one the principle of good, the other of\nevil. For the nature of unity being innate in what surrounds the whole\ncreation gives order to it, to souls virtue, to bodies health, to cities\nand dwellings peace and harmony, for every good thing is conversant\nwith concord. The nature of duality is just the contrary,--to the air\ndisturbance, to souls evil, to bodies disease, to cities and dwellings\nfactions and hostilities. For every evil comes from discord and\ndisagreement. So he demonstrates of all the successive numbers that\nthe even are imperfect and barren; but the odd are full and complete,\nbecause joined to the even they preserve their own character. Nor in\nthis way alone is the odd number superior, but also added to itself\nit generates an even number. For it is creative, it keeps its original\nforce and does not allow of division, since PER SE the mind is\nsuperior. But the even added to itself neither produces the odd nor\nis indivisible. And Homer seems to place the nature of the one in the\nsphere of the good, and the nature of the dual in the opposite many\ntimes. Often he declares a good man to be [Greek omitted] \"kind\" and the\nadjective from it is \"benignity\"; as follows (I. ii. 204):--\n\n     It is not good for many to reign, let there be but one ruler.\n\nAnd (O. iii. 127):--\n\n     We never spake diversely either in the assembly or in the\n     council, but always were of one mind.\n\nHe always makes use of the uneven number as the better. For making\nthe whole world to have five parts, three of these being the mean, he\ndivides it (I. xv. 189):--\n\n     Threefold was our portion each obtained,\n     His need of honor due.\n\nTherefore, too, Aristotle thought there were five elements, since the\nuneven and perfect number had everywhere the predominance. And to the\nheavenly gods he gives the uneven shares. For Nestor nine times to\nPoseidon sacrificed nine bulls; and Tiresias bids Odysseus sacrifice (O.\nxi. 131):--\n\n     A ram and a bull and a boar, the mate of swine.\n\nBut Achilles immolated for Patroclus, all in even numbers, four horses\nand (I. xxiii. 175):--\n\n     Twelve noble sons he slew, the sons of Troy,--\n\nand of nine dogs he casts two on the pyre, in order to leave for himself\nseven. And in many places he uses the ternary, quinary, and septenary\nnumber, especially the number nine (I. vii. 161):--\n\n     The old man spoke reproachfully; at his words\n                Uprose nine warriors.\n\nAnd (O. xi. 311):--\n\n     At nine seasons old they were of breadth nine cubits, and\n     nine fathoms in height.\n\n(I. i. 53):--\n\n     Nine days the heavenly Archer on the troops hurl'd his\n     dread shafts.\n\nAnd (I. vi 174):--\n\n     Nine days he feasted him, nine oxen slew.\n\nWhy pray, is the number nine the most perfect? Because it is the square\nof the first odd number, and unevenly odd since it is divided into three\ntriads, of which again each is divided into three units.\n\nBut not only the virtue of numbers but a natural way of counting he\nshowed, as in the catalogue of ships he made (I. ii. 509):--\n\n     With these came fifty ships; and in each\n     Were sixscore youths, Boeotia's noblest flow'r.\n\nAnd again (I. xvi. 170):--\n\n     They were fifty men.\n\nWhence it is possible to compute that as all the ships were near 1200,\nand each had 100 men, the whole number is 12 myriads--120,000.\n\nAgain speaking. of the Trojans (I. viii. 563):--\n\n     A thousand fires burnt brightly; and round each\n     Sat fifty warriors in the ruddy glare.\n\nHe enables one to compute that without counting allies they were 50,000\nmen.\n\nNow music being closest to the soul, since it is a harmony produced by\ndifferent elements, by melodies, and by rhythms, intensifies what is\nrelaxed and relaxes the intense. The Pythagoreans have clearly proved\nthis, and before them Homer. For he gives praise to music, in the case\nof the Sirens, to which he adds the following (O. xii. 188)\n\n     And had joy thereof and gone on his way the wiser.\n\nIn another place he introduces in banquets the lyre, as among the\nsuitors (O. xvii. 271):--\n\n     And the voice of the lyre is heard there which the gods made\n     to be mate of the feast.\n\nAnd at the house of Alcinous the player on the lyre (O. vii. 266):--\n\n     Was composing a beautiful song.\n\nAnd at marriages (I. xviii. 495):--\n\n     The pipes and lyres were sounding.\n\nAnd in the works of the vintage (I. xvii. 569):--\n\n     A boy amid them, from a clear-ton'd pipe\n     Drew lovely music; well his liquid voice\n     The strings accompanied.\n\nBesides in war (I. x. 13):--\n\n     Of pipes and flutes he heard the sound.\n\nAlso he uses music to express grief (I. xxiv. 721):--\n\n     Poured forth the music of the mournful dirge,\n\nby the sweetness of melodies softening the bitterness of the soul.\n\nIt is clear that melody is twofold,--one of the voice, the other of\ninstruments, partly wind, partly string. Of sound some are bass, some\ntreble. These differences Homer knew, since he represents women and boys\nwith treble voices, by reason of the tenuity of their breath; men, he\nmakes with bass voices. As in the following (I. xviii. 70):--\n\n              She with bitter cry\n     Clasped in her hands his head, and\n     Sorrowing spoke.\n\nAnd again (I. ix. 16):--\n\n     So with deep groans he thus addressed the Greeks.\n\nBut old men like the locusts (I. iii. 151) he compares to shrill-voiced\ncreatures. Instruments whose strings are thin and vibrate quickly,\neasily cut the air, and give an acute sound. Those with thick ones,\nthrough the slow movement, have a deep sound. Homer calls the pipe\nacute--acute because being thin it gives an acute sound. Homer has this\ninformation about music.\n\nSince we are speaking here about Pythagoras, to whom taciturnity and\nnot expressing those things which it is wrong to speak were especially\npleasing, let us see whether Homer had also this opinion. For about\nthose drunken with wine he says (O. xiv. 466):--\n\n     And makes him speak out a word which were better unsaid.\n\nAnd Odysseus upbraids Thersites (I. ii. 246):--\n\n     Thou babbling fool Therites, prompt of speech,\n     Restrain thy tongue.\n\nAnd Ajax speaks, blaming Idomeneus (I. xxiii. 478):--\n\n     But thou art ever hasty in thy speech.\n     And ill becomes thee this precipitance\n\nAnd while the armies are entering the fight (I. iii. 2-8):--\n\n     With noise and clarmor, as a flight of birds,\n         The men of Troy advanced,\n     On th'other side the Greeks in silence mov'd.\n\nClamor is barbaric, silence is Greek. Therefore he has represented the\nmost prudent man as restrained, in speech. And Odysseus exhorts his son\n(O. xvi. 300):--\n\n     If in very truth thou art my son and of our blood, then let\n     no man hear that Odysseus is come home; neither let Laertes\n     know it nor the swineherd nor any of the household nor\n     Penelope herself.\n\nAnd again he exhorts him (O. xix. 42):--\n\n     Hold thy peace and keep all this in thine heart and ask\n     not thereof.\n\nSo the opinions of famous philosophers have their origin in Homer.\n\nIf it is necessary to mention those who elected for themselves certain\nindividual views, we could find them taking their source in Homer.\nDemocritus in constructing his \"idola,\" or representative forms, takes\nthe thought from the following passage (I. v. 449):--\n\n     Meanwhile Apollo of the silver bow\n     A phantom form prepar'd, the counterpart\n     Of great Aeneas and alike in arms.\n\nOthers deviated into error in ways he would not approve of, but he\nrepresented them as fitting to the special time. For when Odysseus was\ndetained with Alcinous, who lived in pleasure and luxury, he speaks to\nhim in a complimentary way (O. ix. 5):--\n\n     Nay, as for me I say that there is no more gracious or perfect\n     delight than when a whole people make merry, and the men sit\n     orderly at feasts in the halls and listen to the singer, and\n     the tables by them laden with food and flesh, and a winebearer\n     drawing the wine serves it into the cups.  The fashion seems\n     to me the fairest thing in the world.\n\nLed by these words, Epicurus took up the opinion that pleasure was\nthe SUMMUM BONUM. And Odysseus himself is at one time covered with a\nprecious and thin woven garment, sometimes represented in rags with\na wallet. Now he is resting with Calypso, now insulted by Iros and\nMelantheus. Aristippus taking the model of this life not only struggled\nvaliantly with poverty and toil, but also intemperately made use of\npleasure.\n\nBut it is possible to take these as specimens of Homer's wisdom, because\nhe first enunciated the many excellent sayings of the Wise Men, as\n\"follow God\" (I. i. 218):--\n\n     Who hears the gods, of them his prayers are heard,\n\nAnd \"nothing too much\" (O. xv. 70):--\n\n     I think it shame even in another heart, who loves overmuch\n     or hates overmuch; measure is in all things best.\n\nAnd the expression (O. viii. 351):--\n\n     A pledge is near to evil,\n     Evil are evil folks' pledges to hold.\n\nAnd that saying of Pythagoras to one who asked who is a friend said \"an\nALTER EGO.\"\n\nHomer's parallel saying is (O. xviii. 82):--\n\n     The equal to my head.\n\nBelonging to the same species of Apothegm is what is called the Gnome,\na universal expression about life stated briefly. All poets and\nphilosophers and orators have used it and have attempted to explain\nthings gnomically. Homer was the first to introduce in his poetry many\nexcellent Gnomes stating a principle he wishes to lay down; as when he\nsays (I. i. 80):--\n\n     And terrible to men of low estate the anger of a king.\n\nAnd again what must needs be done or not done (I. ii 24):--\n\n     To sleep all night but ill becomes a chief.\n\nOf Homer's many good sayings and admonitions not a few afterward have\nbeen paraphrased. Some examples of these should find a place here; as\nthe following passage of Homer (I. xv. 104):--\n\n     Fools are we all, who madly strive with Jove,\n     Or hope, by access to his throne, to sway\n     By word or deed his course!  From all apart,\n     He all our counsels heeds not, but derides!\n     And boasts o'er all the immortal gods to reign.\n     Prepare, then, each his several woes to bear.\n\nLike this is a saying of Pythagoras:--\n\n     Whatever pains mortals have from the gods, whatever fate\n     thou hast, bear it nor murmur.\n\nAnd also these words of Euripides:--\n\n     Nor is it fitting to be indignant at events, no good comes\n     of it; but when things go wrong, if one bears them right,\n     they do go well.\n\nAgain Homer says (I. xxiv. 128):--\n\n     How long, my son, wilt thou thy soul consume with grief\n     and mourning?\n\nSo Pythagoras:--\n\n     Spare thy life, do not wear out thy soul.\n\nThen Homer says (O. xviii. 136):--\n\n     For the spirit of men upon the earth is even as their day,\n     that comes upon them from the father of gods and men.\n\nArchilochus, who imitates other things of Homer, has paraphrased this\ntoo, saying:--\n\n     Such for mortal men, O Glaucus, son of Leptineus, is their\n     mind, as Zeus directs for a day.\n\nAnd in other words, Homer says (I. xiii. 730):--\n\n     To one the gods have granted warlike might,\n     While in another's breast all-seeing Jove\n     Hath plac'd the spirit of wisdom and mind\n     Discerning for the common good of all.\n     By him are states preserved! and he himself\n     Best knows the value of the precious gift.\n\nEuripides has followed this original:--\n\n     Cities are well ordered by the instructions of one man.\n     So, too, a house.  One again is mighty in war.  For one wise\n     judgment conquers many hands, but ignorance with a crowd\n     brings the most evil.\n\nWhere he makes Idomeneus exhorting his comrade, he says (I. xii. 322):--\n\n     O friend, if we survivors of this war\n     Could live from age and death forever free,\n     Thou shouldst not see me foremost in the fight,\n     Nor would I urge thee to the glorious field;\n     But since in man ten thousand forms of death\n     Attend, which none may 'scape, then on that we\n     May glory in others' gain, or they on us!\n\nAeschylus saying after him:--\n\n     Nor receiving many wounds in his heart does any one die,\n     unless the goal of life is run.  Nor does any one sitting by\n     the hearth flee any better the decreed fate.\n\nIn prose, Demosthenes speaks as follows (O. xviii. 9):--\n\n     For all mortals, death is the end of life even if one keeps\n     himself shut up in a cell; it is necessary ever for good men\n     to attempt noble things and bravely to bear whatever God\n     may give.\n\nAgain take Homer (I. iii. 65):--\n\n     The gifts of Heav'n are not to be despis'd.\n\nSophocles paraphrases this, saying:--\n\n     This is God's gift; whatever the gods may give, one must never\n     avoid anything, my son.\n\nIn Homer there are the words (I. i. 249):--\n\n     From whose persuasive lips.  Sweeter than\n     Honey flowed the stream of speech.\n\nTheocritus said (I. vii. 82):--\n\n     Therefore the Muse poured in his mouth\n       Sweet nectar.\n\nHow, also, Aratus paraphrased this (I. xviii. 489):--\n\n     Sole star that never bathes in th' ocean wave,--\n\nsaying:--\n\n     The Bears protected from cerulean ocean.\n\n(I. xv. 628):--\n\n     They win their soul from death,\n\nis paraphrased:--\n\n     He escaped Hades by a small peg.\n\nLet this be enough on this subject.\n\nBut civil discourse belongs to the rhetorical art, with which it seems\nHomer was first to be familiar. If Rhetoric is the power of persuasive\nspeaking, who more than Homer depended on this power? He excels all in\neloquence; also in the grasp of his subject he reveals an equal literary\npower.\n\nAnd the first part of this art is Arrangement, which he exhibits in all\nhis poetry, and especially at the beginning of his narratives. For he\ndid not make the beginning of the \"Iliad\" at a distant period, but at\nthe time when affairs were developing with energy and had come to a\nhead. The more inactive periods, which came into past time, he goes over\nin other places succinctly. The same he did in the \"Odyssey,\" beginning\nfrom the close of the times of Odysseus's wanderings, in which it was\nclearly time to bring in Telemachus and to show the haughty conduct of\nthe suitors. Whatever happened to Odysseus in his wanderings before this\nhe introduces into Odysseus's narrative. These things he prefers to\nshow as more probable and more effective, when said by the one who\nexperienced them.\n\nAs therefore all orators make use of introductory remarks to get\nthe benevolent attention of their audience, so our poet makes use of\nexordiums fitted to move and reach the hearer. In the \"Iliad\" he first\ndeclares that he is about to say how many evils happened to the Achaeans\nthrough the wrath of Achilles and the high-handed conduct of Agamemnon;\nand in the \"Odyssey\" how many labors and dangers Odysseus encountered\nand surmounted all of them by the judgment and perseverance of his soul.\nAnd in each one of the exordiums he invokes the Muse that she may make\nthe value of what is said greater and more divine.\n\nWhile the characters introduced by him are made to say many things\neither to their relatives or friends or enemies or the people, yet to\neach he assigns a fitting type of speech, as in the beginning he makes\nChryseis in his words to the Greeks use a most appropriate exordium.\nFirst he desires for them that they may be superior to their enemies and\nmay return home, in order that he might gain their kindly feeling. Then\nhe demands his daughter. But Achilles being angered by the threat of\nAgamemnon combines a speech for the Greeks and for himself, in order to\nmake them more friendly disposed. For, he says, all had proceeded to\nthe war, not on account Of some private enmity, but to please Agamemnon\nhimself and his brother, and he went on to say he had done many things\nhimself and had received a present not from Agamemnon and Menelaus,\nbut from the whole body of the Greeks. Agamemnon replying to him has no\ndifficulty in winning the crowd. For when Achilles says he means to sail\nback home, on account of the insult he has received, he does not say\n\"go\" but \"flee,\" changing what is said abruptly into an attack on\nAchilles reputation. And his words are:--\n\n     I do not exhort you to remain; there are here who value me.\n\nAnd this was agreeable to his hearers.\n\nAnd afterward he introduces Nestor, whom he had previously called sweet\nin speech and a shrewd orator (I. i. 249):--\n\n     Whose voice flowed from his tongue sweeter than honey.\n\nThere could be no greater praise for an orator. He starts off with an\nexordium by which he tries to change the minds of the contesting chiefs,\nbidding them consider by opposing one another they give occasion of joy\nto their enemies. He goes on to admonish both and to exhort them to give\nheed to him as their elder. And by telling one to be prudent, he says\nwhat gratifies the other. He advises Agamemnon not to take away what has\nbeen given to a man who has labored much; Achilles, not to strive with\nthe king who is his superior. And he gives suitable praise to both:\nto the one as ruling over more people; to the other, as having more\nprowess. In this way he seeks to moderate them.\n\nAgain, in what follows, when Agamemnon saw the dream bearing good hopes\nto him from Zeus, and exhorting him to arm the Greeks, did he not use\nrhetorical art speaking to the multitude, saying the contrary of what\nhe wishes, to try their feeling and to see if they will be disgusted\nby being compelled to do battle for him. But he speaks to please them.\nAnother of the men able to influence them bids them stay in their\ntents, as if the king really wished this. For to those he speaks to he\nindicates that he desires the contrary. Odysseus taking up these words,\nand making use of a convenient freedom, persuades the leaders by his\nmild language; the common people he compels by threats to heed their\nsuperiors. Stopping the mutiny and agitation of the crowd, he persuades\nall by his shrewd words, moderately blaming them for not carrying out\nwhat they promised, and at the same time excusing them on the ground\nthat they have been idle for some time and have been deprived of what is\ndearest to them. He persuades them to remain by the hope of the seer's\nprophecy.\n\nLikewise Nestor, using arguments unchanged indeed but tending to the\nsame end, and also using greater freedom to those who have been spoilt\nby inaction, brings over the crowd. He places the blame of their\nnegligence on a few unworthy people and advises the rest. He threatens\nthe disobedient and immediately takes counsel with the king as to how\nthe forces are to be drawn up.\n\nAgain, when in the deeds of war the Greeks have partly succeeded and\npartly failed and been reduced to terror, Diomed, since he has the\naudacity of youth and freedom of speech by reason of his success,\nbefore he had shown his valor, took the king's reproof in silence, but\nafterward he turns on Agamemnon as if he had counselled flight through\ncowardice. For he says (I. ix. 32):--\n\n     Atrides I thy folly must confront,\n     As is my right in council! thou, O King,\n     Be not offended.\n\nIn his speech he tries to advise him and at the same time deprecate his\nanger. He then recites the things just performed by him, without envy,\nsaying (I. ix. 36):--\n\n                             How justly so\n     Is known to all the Greeks both young and old.\n\nAfterward he exhorts the Greeks, giving them indirect praise (I. ix.\n40):--\n\n     How canst thou hope the sons of Greece shall prove\n     Such heartless cowards as thy words suppose?\n\nAnd he shames Agamemnon, excusing him if he wishes to depart, saying the\nothers will be sufficient, or if all flee, he will remain alone with his\ncomrade and fight (I. ix. 48):--\n\n     Yet I and Sthenelaus, we two, will fight.\n\nNestor commends the excellence of his judgment and his actions. As to\nthe aim of the council he considers that, as the eldest, he has the\nright to offer advice. And he continues endeavoring to arrange for\nsending ambassadors to Achilles.\n\nAnd in the embassy itself he makes the speakers employ different devices\nof arguments. For Odysseus, at the opening of his speech, did not say\nimmediately that Agamemnon repented the taking away of Briseis, and\nwould give the girl back, and that he was giving some gifts immediately\nand promised the rest later. For it was not useful, while his feelings\nwere excited, to remember these things. But first he wished to provoke\nAchilles to sympathize with the misfortunes of the Greeks. Then he\nsuggests that later on he will want to remedy these disasters and will\nnot be able to. After this he recalls to him the advice of Peleus;\nremoving any resentment toward himself, he attributes it to the\ncharacter of his father as being more able to move him. And when he\nseemed mollified, then he mentioned the gifts of Agamemnon and again\ngoes back to entreaties on behalf of the Greeks, saying that if\nAgamemnon is justly blamed, at least it was a good thing to save those\nwho had never injured him.\n\nIt was necessary to have a peroration of this kind containing nothing to\nirritate the hearer. He specifically recalls the purpose of the speech.\nThe final exhortation has something to stir him against the enemy, for\nthey are represented as despising him. \"For now you can take Hector\nif he stands opposed to you! Since he says none of the Greeks is his\nequal.\" But Phoenix, fearing that he has used less entreaties than were\nbefitting, sheds tears. And first he agrees with his impulse, saying he\nwill not leave him if he sails away. This was pleasant for him to hear.\nAnd he tells Achilles how Peleus intrusted Phoenix to bring Achilles up,\ntaking him as a child, and how he was thought worthy to be his teacher\nin words and deeds. In passing he relates Achilles' youthful errors,\nshowing how this period of life is inconsiderate. And proceeding he\nomits no exhortation, using briefly all rhetorical forms, saying that\nit is a good thing to be reconciled with a suppliant, a man who has sent\ngifts, and has despatched the best and most honored ambassadors; that he\nhimself was worthy to be heard, being his tutor and teacher; that if\nhe let the present occasion go, he would repent. He makes use of the\nexample of Meleager who, when called upon to help his fatherland, did\nnot heed until by the necessity of the calamities that overtook the city\nhe turned to defend, it. But Ajax used neither entreaty nor pity, but\nfreedom of speech. He determined to remove Achilles' haughtiness partly\nby blaming him seasonably, partly by exhorting him genially not to\nbe completely embittered. For it befitted his excellency in virtue.\nReplying to each of these Achilles shows nobility and simplicity. The\nothers he refutes cleverly and generously by bringing out worthy causes\nof his anger; to Ajax he excuses himself. And to Odysseus he says\nthat he will sail away on the following day; then being stirred by the\nentreaties of Phoenix, he says he will take counsel about leaving. Moved\nby the free speech of Ajax, he confesses all that he intends to do: that\nhe will not go forth to fight until Hector gets as far as his tents and\nthe ships, after killing many of the Greeks. Then he says, \"I think I\nshall stop Hector no matter how earnestly he fights.\" And this argument\nhe offers in rebuttal to Odysseus about resisting the onslaught of\nHector.\n\nIn the words of Phoenix he shows that there is such a thing as the art\nof Rhetoric. For he says to Achilles that he had taken him over (I. ix.\n440):--\n\n     Inexperienced yet in war that sorrow brings alike on all\n     And sage debate, on which attends renown\n     Me then he sent, to teach thee how to frame\n     Befitting speech and mighty deeds achieve.\n\nThese words show that the power of speech especially makes men renowned.\n\nIt is besides possible to find in many other parts of his poems passages\npertaining to the art of Rhetoric. For he shows the method of accusation\nand purgation elsewhere and in the place where Hector taxes his brother,\naccusing him of cowardice and dissoluteness. Because he had this\ncharacter, he had injured those who were far different from him; so he\nhad become the cause of evil to his family. And Alexander softens his\nbrothers' temper by confessing he was rightly blamed; he wipes off the\ncharge of cowardice by promising to meet Menelaus in combat. And that\nHomer was a skilful speaker, no one in his right mind would deny, for it\nis all clear from reading his poems.\n\nHe did not overlook to give certain types to his speakers. He introduces\nNestor as agreeable and attractive to his hearers; Menelaus, fond of\nbrevity, attractive, and sticking to his subject; Odysseus, abundant\nsubtility of speech. These things Antenor testifies about the two\nheroes; he had heard them when they came to Ilium as ambassadors. And\nthese characteristics of speech Homer himself introduces, displaying\nthem in all his poetry.\n\nHe was acquainted with Antithesis in eloquence. This in every subject\nintroduces the contrary, and proves and disproves the same thing by\nclever handling of the art of logic. For he says (I. xx. 248):--\n\n     For glibly runs the tongue, and can at will\n     Give utt'rance to discourse in every vein;\n     Wide is the range of language, and such words\n     As one may speak, another may return.\n\nHe knew how to say the same things at length, and to repeat them\nbriefly, which is called Recapitulation, and is used by orators whenever\nit is necessary to recall briefly the numerous things which have been\nsaid. For what Odysseus related in four books in the Phaeacians, these\nhe goes over again shortly in the passage beginning (O. xxiii. 310):--\n\n     He began by setting forth how he overcame the Cicones, etc.\n\nBut civil discourse embraces also knowledge of laws. No one can really\nsay whether the word \"law\" was used in his time. Some say that he\ncertainly knew it, for he said (O. xvii. 487):--\n\n     To watch the violence and righteousness of men.\n\nAristachus says the word \"righteousness\" ([Greek omitted]) comes from\nthe words \"to distribute well.\" Hence law ([Greek omitted]) seems to be\ncalled, because it distributes ([Greek omitted]) equal parts to all or\nto each according to his worth. But that he knew the force of law was\nconserved, if not in writing at least in the opinion of men, he shows\nin many ways. For he makes Achilles talking about the sceptre say (I. i.\n237):--\n\n                   And now 'tis borne,\n     Emblem of justice, by the sons of Greece,\n     Who guard the sacred ministry of law\n     Before the face of Jove.\n\nFor usages and customs, the laws of which Zeus is reported as the\nlawgiver, with whom Minos the king of the Cretans had converse men say;\nwhich converse is, as Plato bears witness, the learning of the laws.\nClearly in his poems he reveals that it is necessary to follow the laws\nand not to do wrong (O. xviii. 141):--\n\n     Wherefore let no man forever be lawless any more, but keep\n     quietly the gifts of the gods, whatsoever they may give.\n\nHomer first of all divided into different parts civil polity. For in\nthe shield which was made in imitation of the whole world by Hephaestus\n(that is, spiritual power) he imagined two cities to be contained:\none enjoying peace and happiness; the other at war, and exposing the\nadvantages of each he shows that the one life is civil and the other\nmilitary. Neither did he pass over even the agricultural. But he showed\nthis, too, making it clear and beautiful in his language.\n\nIn every city it is sanctioned by the law that there is to be a meeting\nof a council to consider before the popular assembly is called together.\nThis is evident from the words of Homer (I. ii. 53):--\n\n            But first of all the Elders\n     A secret conclave Agamemnon called.\n\nAgamemnon collects the Elders, and examines with them how to arm the\npeople for the fight.\n\nAnd that it is necessary for the leader before all things to care for\nthe salvation of the whole, he teaches in his characters by the advice\nhe gives (I. ii. 24):--\n\n     To sleep all night but ill becomes a chief.\n\nAnd how it is necessary for subjects to obey their leader, and how the\ncommander should bear himself toward each class; Odysseus shows this,\npersuading the superior class by soft words, but using toward the crowd\nbitter words of rebuke.\n\nTo rise up for one's superiors is sanctioned in all laws. This the gods\nthemselves do in the case of Zeus (I. i. 535):--\n\n                          At his entrance all\n     Rose from their seats at once; not one presumed\n     To wait his coming.\n\nThere is a rule among most that the eldest shall speak. Diomed by\nnecessity of the war having dared to speak first, requests to be\npardoned (I. xiv. 111):--\n\n              Nor take offence that I,\n     The youngest of all, presume to speak.\n\nAnd it is an universal rule that voluntary offences are punished and\ninvoluntary ones are excused. This, too, the poet shows, in what the\nminstrel says (O. xxii. 350):--\n\n     And Telemachus will testify of this, thine own dear son, that\n     not by mine own will or desire did I resort to thy house to\n     sing to the wooers after their feasts; but being so many and\n     stronger than I, they led me by constraint.\n\nThere are three forms of polity intended to attain justice and good\nlaws,--Royalty, Aristocracy, and Democracy. To these are opposed three\nwhich end in injustice and lawlessness,--Tyranny, Oligarchy, and Mob\nRule. Homer does not seem ignorant of these. Throughout his whole poem\nhe names kingly rule and praises it; for example (I. ii. 196):--\n\n     For fierce his anger, and the Lord of counsel, Jove,\n     From whom proceeds all honor, loves him well.\n\nAnd what sort of a man a king must be, he plainly reveals (O. ii.\n236):--\n\n     Be kind and gentle with all his heart.\n\nAnd (O. iv. 690):--\n\n     One that wrought no iniquity toward any man, nor spake aught\n     unrighteous in the township, as is the wont of divine kings.\n\nAnd severally where he enumerates five kings of the Boeotians, and among\nthe Phaeacians (O. viii. 390):--\n\n     Behold there are twelve glorious princes who rule among this\n     people and bear sway, and I myself am the thirteenth.\n\nThe image of democracy he shows clearly on the shield, in which he makes\ntwo cities. The one he says is ruled democratically, since they have no\nleader, yet all by their own will conduct themselves according to the\nlaws; then, too, he introduces a trial proceeding. And he exhibits a\ndemocracy when he says (O. xvi. 425):--\n\n     In fear of the people, for they were exceedingly wroth against\n     him, because he had followed with Topheon sea-robbers and\n     harried  the Thesprotians, who were at peace with us.\n\nA man ruling with violence and contrary to the laws he does not call a\ntyrant, for the name is of more recent date. But his nature he exhibits\nin his deeds (O. vxiii. 85):--\n\n     And send thee to the mainland to Echetus the king, the maimer\n     of all mankind, who will cut off thy nose and ears with the\n     pitiless steel.\n\nAnd he shows Aegisthus tyrannical, who killed Agamemnon and lorded over\nMycenae. And when he was killed he says he would have had no sepulchre\nif Menelaus had been there. For this was the custom with tyrants (O.\niii. 258):--\n\n     Then even in his death would they not have heaped the piled\n     earth over him, but dogs and fowls of the air would have\n     devoured him as he lay on the plain far from the town:\n     so dread was the deed he contrived.\n\nOligarchy he seems to show in the ambition of the suitors, about whom he\nsays (O. i. 247):--\n\n     As many as lord it in rocky Ithaca.\n\nHe describes the mob rule in the Trojan government in which all are\naccomplices of Alexander and all are involved in misfortunes. Priam\naccuses his sons of being the cause (I. xxiv. 253):--\n\n     Haste, worthless sons, my scandal and my shame!\n\nAnd also another Trojan, Antimachus (I. xi. 124):--\n\n                'Twas he who chief\n     Seduc'd by Paris' gold and splendid gifts\n     Advis'd the restitution to refuse\n     Of Helen to her lord.\n\n\n\nIt is esteemed just among men to distribute to each according to his\nworth. This principle concerns especially reverencing the gods, and\nhonoring parents and relations. Piety toward the gods he teaches in many\npassages, introducing the heroes sacrificing, praying, offering gifts to\nthe gods, and celebrating them in hymns, and as a reward for their piety\nthey receive from the gods.\n\nHonor to parents he shows especially, in the character of Telemachus,\nand in his praise of Orestes (O. i. 298):---\n\n     Or hast thou not heard what renown the goodly Orestes got\n     among all men in that he slew the slayer of his father?\n\nFor parents to be cared for in their old age by their children is just\nby nature and a debt of retribution; this he showed in one passage where\nhe says (I. xvii. 302):--\n\n     Not destin'd he his parents to repay their early care.\n\nThe good will and good faith of brothers to one another he shows in\nAgamemnon and Menelaus, of friends in Achilles and Patroclus, prudence\nand wifely love in Penelope, the longing of a man for his wife in\nOdysseus.\n\nHow we should act toward our country he showed especially in these words\n(I. xii. 243):--\n\n     The best of omens is our country's cause.\n\nAnd how citizens should share a common friendship (I. ix. 63):--\n\n     Outcast from kindred, law, and hearth is he\n     Whose soul delights in fierce, internal strife.\n\nThat truthfulness is honorable and the contrary to be avoided (I. ix.\n312):--\n\n     Him as the gates of hell my soul abhors\n     Where outward speech his secret thought belies.\n\nAnd (O. xviii. 168):--\n\n     Who speak friendly with their lips, but imagine evil in the\n     latter end.\n\nHouseholds are chiefly well ordered when the wife does not make a\nfuss over the undeclared plans of her husband nor without his counsel\nundertakes to do any thing. Both he shows in the person of Hera; the\nformer he attributes to Zeus as speaker (I. i. 545):--\n\n     Expect not Juno, all my mind to know.\n\nAnd the latter Hera herself speaks (I. xiv. 310):--\n\n     Lest it displease thee, if, to thee unknown,\n     I sought the Ocean's deeply flowing stream,\n\nThere is a custom among all people for those who go to a war or who are\nin danger to send some message to their families. Our poet was familiar\nwith this custom. For Andromache, bewailing Hector, says (I. xxiv.\n743):--\n\n     For not to me was giv'n to clasp the hand extended from thy\n        dying bed,\n     Nor words of wisdom catch, which night and day,\n     With tears, I might have treasur'd in my heart.\n\nPenelope recalls the commands of Odysseus when he set forth (O. xviii.\n265):--\n\n     Wherefore I know not if the gods will suffer me to return, or\n     whether I shall be cut off there in Troy; so do thou have a\n     care for all these things.  Be mindful of my father and my\n     mother in the halls, even as thou art or yet more than now,\n     while I am far away.  But when thou see'st thy son a bearded\n     man, marry whom thou wilt and leave thine own house.\n\nHe knew also the custom of having stewards (O. ii. 226):--\n\n     He it was to whom Odysseus, as he departed in the fleet, had\n     given the charge over all his house that it should obey the\n     old man, and that he should keep all things safe.\n\nGrief at the death in one's household he thinks should not be\nunmeasured; for this is unworthy, nor does he allow it altogether to\nbe repressed; for apathy is impossible for mankind, whence he says the\nfollowing (I. xxiv. 48):--\n\n     He mourns and weeps, but time his grief allays,\n     For fate to man a patient mind hath given.\n\nOther places he says (I. xix. 228):--\n\n     Behooves us bury out of sight our dead\n     Steeling our hearts and weeping but a day.\n\nHe also knew the customs used now at funerals, in other passages and in\nthe following (I. xvi. 456):--\n\n     There shall his brethren and his friends perform\n     His fun'ral rites, and mound and column raise\n     The fitting tribute to the mighty dead\n\nAnd as Andromache says (before) the naked and prostrate body of Hector\n(I. xxii. 509):--\n\n     But now on thee, beside the beaked ships\n     Far from thy parents, when the rav'ning dogs\n     Have had their fill, the wriggling worms shall feed\n     In thee all naked; while within thy house\n     Lies store of raiment, rich and rare, the work\n     Of women's hands: these I will burn with fire\n     Not for thy need--thou ne'er shalt wear them more\n     But for thine honor in the sight of Troy.\n\nSo, too, Penelope prepares the shroud (O. ii. 99):--\n\n     Even this shroud for the hero Laertes.\n\nBut these are examples of moderation. But exceeding these are the living\ncreatures and men Achilles burns on the pyre of Patroclus. He tells us\nof them, but does not do so in words of praise. Therefore he exclaims\n(I. xxi. 19):--\n\n     On savage deeds intent.\n\nAnd he first of all mentions monuments to the slain (I. vii. 336):--\n\n                And on the plains erect\n     Around the pyre one common pyre for all.\n\nAnd he gave the first example of funeral games. These are common to\ntimes of peace and war.\n\nExperience in warlike affairs, which some authorities call Tactics, his\npoetry being varied by infantry, siege, and naval engagements, and also\nby individual contests, covers many types of strategy. Some of these are\nworth mentioning. In drawing up armies it is necessary always to put the\ncavalry in front, and after it the infantry. This he indicates in the\nfollowing verses (I. ii. 297):--\n\n     In the front rank, with chariot and with horse,\n     He plac'd the car-borne warriors; in the rear,\n     Num'rous and brave, a cloud of infantry!\n\nAnd as to placing leaders among the soldiers as they are arranged in\nfiles (I. ix. 86):--\n\n     Seven were the leaders; and with each went forth,\n     A hundred gallant youths, with lances armed.\n\nSome of the leaders fight in the front rank; some in the rear exhort the\nrest to fight (I. iv. 252):--\n\n     And come where round their chief\n     Idomeneus, the warlike bards of Crete\n     Were coming for the fight; Idomeneus\n     Of courage stubborn as the forest boar\n     The foremost ranks array'd; Meriones\n     The rearmost squadrons had in charge.\n\nIt is necessary for those who are valiant to camp in the extreme limits,\nmaking as it were a wall for the rest; but for the king is pitched his\ntent in the safest place, that is, in the midst. He shows this by making\nthe most valorous men, Achilles and Ajax, encamp in the most exposed\nspaces of the fleet, but Agamemnon and the rest in the middle.\n\nThe custom of surrounding the camp with earth-works, and digging around\nit a deep and wide ditch and planting it in a circle with stakes so that\nno one can jump over it by reason of its breadth, nor go down into it\nbecause of its depth, is found in the warlike operations of Homer (I.\nxii. 52):--\n\n                    In vain we seek to drive\n     Our horses o'er the ditch: it is hard to cross,\n     'Tis crowned with pointed stakes, and then behind\n     Is built the Grecian wall; these to descend,\n     And from our cars in narrow space to fight,\n     Were certain ruin.\n\nAnd in battle those who follow the example of Homer's heroes die bravely\n(I. xxii. 304):--\n\n     Yet not without a struggle let me die,\n     Nor all inglorious; but let some great act,\n     Which future days may hear of, mark my fall.\n\nAnd another time (O. xv. 494):--\n\n     And if there be among you who this day shall meet his doom by\n     sword or arrow slain, e'en let him die! a glorious death is\n     his who for his country falls.\n\nTo those who distinguish themselves he distributes gifts (I. ix. 334):--\n\n     To other chiefs and kings he meted out their several portions.\n\nAnd he threatens deserters (I. xv. 348):--\n\n     Whom I elsewhere, and from the ships aloof\n     Shall find, my hand shall down him on the spot.\n\nWhy is it necessary to speak of the heroes in battle? How differently\nand variously he makes them give and receive wounds. One he thinks\nworthy of mention, because he thinks those wounded in front are the more\nhonorable because they prove steadfastness and a desire to abide the\nshock. Those who are struck in the back or neck were less honorable,\nsince these blows they received in flight. Both of these are mentioned\nin Homer (I. xii. 288):--\n\n     Not in the neck behind, nor in thy back\n     Should fall the blow, but in thy breast in front,\n     Thy courage none might call in doubt\n     Shouldst thou from spear or sword receive a wound.\n\nAnd again (I. xxii. 213):--\n\n     Not in my back will I receive thy spear,\n     But through my heart.\n\nIn putting enemies to flight he gives useful advice, not to be busied\nwith the spoil, nor give time for flight, but to press on and pursue (I.\nvi. 68):--\n\n    Loiter not now behind, to throw yourselves\n    Upon the prey, and bear it to the ships;\n    Let all your aim be now to kill, then\n    Ye may at leisure spoil your slaughtered foe.\n\nThere are in his poetry successful deeds achieved by every age, by which\nevery one, no matter who he may be, can be encouraged: the man in the\nflower of his strength by Achilles, Ajax, and Diomed; by younger ones\nAntilochus and Meriones; the mature by Idomeneus and Odysseus; the old\nmen by Nestor; and every king by all of these named and by Agamemnon.\nSuch are in Homer the examples of the discourse and action of civilized\nlife.\n\nLet us see now whether Homer had any familiarity with medicine. That he\nheld the art in high regard is clear from the following (I. xi. 514):--\n\n     Worth many a life is his, the skilful leech.\n\nMedical science appears to be the science of disease and health. That it\nis a science any one can learn from this (O. iv. 23):--\n\n     There each one is a leech skilled beyond all men.\n\nThat it deals with disease and health (O. iv. 230):--\n\n     Many that are healing in the cup, and many baneful,--\n\nhe indicates with these things.\n\nMedicine has, too, a theoretical side which reaches the knowledge of\nparticulars by universal reasoning and by inductive method. The parts\nof this are the study of symptoms and the knowledge of the courses of\ndisease. The active part treating of action and effect; the parts of\nit diatetic, surgical, medicinal. How did Homer appraise each of these?\nThat he knew the theoretical side is evident from this (O. iv. 227):--\n\n     Medicines of such virtue and so helpful had the daughters\n     of Zeus.\n\nHe calls them \"of such virtue\" because they were prepared by theoretic\nart.\n\nBut the study of symptoms he goes over in the case of Achilles. For he\nwas a disciple of Charon. He first observed, then, the causes of the\npestilence which was attacking the Greeks. For he knew that the causes\nof common diseases were from Apollo, who seems to be the same as the\nSun. For he notices the seasons of the year. If these are intemperate,\nthey become the causes of disease. For, in general, the safety and\ndestruction of men are to be ascribed to Apollo, of women to Artemis,\ni.e. to the Sun and Moon, making them the casters of arrows by reason\nof the rays they throw out. So dividing the male and female he makes the\nmale of the warmer temperament. On this account, at any rate, he\nsays Telemachus is of this type, \"by the guidance of Apollo\"; but the\ndaughters of Tyndarus grew up, he says, under the protection of Artemis.\nMoreover, to these gods he attributes death in many places, and among\nothers in the following (I. xxiv. 605):--\n\n     The youths, Apollo with his silver bow;\n     The maids, the Archer Queen Diana slew.\n\nWhere he relates the rising of the Dog Star, the same is a sign and\ncause of fever and disease (I. xxii. 30):--\n\n     The highest he but sign to mortal man\n     Of evil augury and fiery heat.\n\nHe gives the causes of disease where he speaks about the gods (I. v.\n341):--\n\n     They eat no bread, they drink no ruddy wine,\n     Thence are they bloodless and exempt from death.\n\nFor food, whether dry or humid, is generative of blood. And this\nnourishes the body; if it is excessive or corrupt, it becomes the cause\nof disease.\n\nThe practical part of medicine he carefully distinguishes. In this is\nthe dietetic. First, he knew the periods and cures of diseases, as when\nhe says (O. xi. 171):--\n\n     What doom overcame thee of death that lays men at their\n     length? Was it a slow disease, or did Artemis the archer slay\n     them with the visitation of her gentle shafts?\n\nIt is evident that he thinks a light diet is healthful. For he pictures\nhis heroes making use of cooked food and so removes extravagant\nattention about things to eat. And since the stomach needs constant\nrepletion, when cooked food, which has the closest relation to the body,\nis digested in the heart and veins, and the surfeit is cast forth, he\nsays words like the following (O. vii. 215):--\n\n     But as for me suffer me to sup afflicted as I am; for naught\n     is there more shameless than a ravening belly, which biddeth a\n     man perforce be mindful of him.\n\nAnd again (O. vii. 219):--\n\n     Yet ever more he biddeth me eat and drink, and maketh utterly\n     to forget all my sufferings and commandeth me to take my fill.\n\nHe knew, too, the difference in the use of wine: that immoderate\ndrinking is harmful but moderate profitable; as follows (O. xxi.\n294):--\n\n     Honey sweet wine, that is the bane of others too, even of all\n     who take great draughts and drink out of measure.\n\nThe other so (I. vi. 261):--\n\n              But great the strength,\n     Which gen'rous wine imparts to men who toil\n     And that gives additional force.\n\nand (I. xix. 167):--\n\n     But he who first with food and wine refreshed\n     All day maintains the combat with the foe.\n     His spirit retains unbroken, and his limbs\n     Unwearied till both armies quit the field.\n\nAnd he thinks the agreeable taste contributes to good fellowship (O.\nvii. 182):--\n\n     So spake he, and Pontonous mixed the gladdening wine.\n\nThe strong and heady kind Odysseus gives to the Cyclops, the sharp\nkind for a medicine, for such is the Promneon brand, which he gives to\nwounded Machaon.\n\nThat he advises the use of gymnastics is evident in many places, for he\nmakes his characters always at work, some in appropriate occupations,\nsome for the sake of exercise. Although the Phaeacians are externally\ngiven to softness, and the suitors are dissolute, he introduces them\ndoing gymnastic feats. And moderate exercise he thinks is the cause of\nhealth. For a tired body sleep is a remedy. For he says \"sleep came upon\nOdysseus\" after he had been tired out by the sea (O. v. 493):--\n\n     That so it might soon release him from his weary travail,\n     overshadowing his eyelids.\n\nNature requires a tired body to take rest. And where there is too little\nheat, as it is not able to penetrate everywhere, it remains at the\nlowest level. Why does the body rest? Because the tension of the soul is\nremitted and the members are dissolved and this he clearly says (O. iv.\n794):--\n\n     And she sank back in sleep, and all her joints were loosened.\n\nAs in other things, immoderation is not advantageous; so he declares the\nsame with regard to sleep, at one time saying (O, xiv. 394):--\n\nWeariness and much sleep.\n\nAnd another (O. xx. 52):--\n\n     To wake and watch all night, this, too, is vexation of spirit.\n\nHe knew, too, that clearness of air contributes to health, where he says\n(O. iv. 563):--\n\n     But the deathless gods will convey thee to the Elysian plain\n     and the World's end, where is Rhadamanthus of the fair hair,\n     where life is easiest for men.  No snow is there, nor yet\n     great storm, nor any rain; but always ocean sendeth forth the\n     breeze of the shrill west to blow cool on men.\n\nHe knew remedies for sufferings; for cold revives those who are\nfainting, as in the case of Sarpedon (I. v. 697):--\n\n     He swooned, and giddy mists o'erspread his eyes,\n     But soon revived as on his forehead blew\n     While yet he gasped for breath the cooling breeze.\n\nHeat is a remedy for cold, as in the case of storm-tossed Odysseus, who\nbends down in the thicket, where there is a protection against winds and\nrains, and he covers himself with the wood about him. And other places\nhe mentions baths and anointing, as in the case of Diomed and Odysseus\nreturning from their night expedition. The special usefulness of baths\nhe shows especially in the following (O. x. 362):--\n\n     She bathed me with water from out a great caldron, pouring it\n     over head and shoulders, where she had mixed it to a pleasant\n     warmth till from my limbs she took away consuming weariness.\n\nIt is plain that the nerves have their origin in the head and shoulders.\nSo probably from this he makes the healing of fatigue to be taken. This\ntakes place by the wetting and warming; for labors are parching.\n\nWe have now to consider how he treated the function of surgery. Machaon\nheals Menelaus by first removing the javelin; then he examines the wound\nand presses out the blood, and scatters over it dry medicaments. And it\nis evident that this is done by him in a technical fashion. Eurypalus,\nwho is wounded in the thigh, first treats it with a sharp knife, then he\nwashes it with clear water; afterward to diminish the pain, he employs\nan herb. For there are many in existence that heal wounds. He knew this,\ntoo, that bitter things are suitable; for to dry up wounds requires\nexsiccation. After Patroclus has applied the healing art, he did not go\naway immediately, but (I. xv. 393):--\n\n     Remaining, with his converse soothed the chief.\n\nFor a sufferer needs sympathy. Machaon wounded not with a great or fatal\nwound on the shoulder, he makes using intentionally a somewhat careless\ndiet. Perhaps here he shows his art. For he who takes care of himself at\nordinary times is able to heal himself.\n\nThis is noted, too, in Homer, that he knows the distinction of drugs.\nSome are to be used as plasters, others as powders, as when he says (I.\niv. 218):--\n\n     And applied with skilful hand the herbs of healing power.\n\nBut some are to be drunk, as where Helen mixes a medicine in a bowl (O.\niv. 221):--\n\n     A drug to lull all pain and anger, and bring forgetfulness of\n     every sorrow.\n\nHe knows, too, that some poisonous drugs are to be applied as ointments\n(O. i. 261):--\n\n     To seek a deadly drug, that he might have wherewithal to\n     smear his bronze-shod arrows.\n\nOthers are to be drunk, as in these words (O. ii. 330):--\n\n     To fetch a poisonous drug that he may cast it into the bowl\n     and make an end of all of us.\n\nSo much for medicines in the Homeric poems.\n\nDivination is useful to man like medicine. A part of this the Stoics\ncall artificial, as the inspection of entrails and birds' oracles, lots,\nand signs. All of these they call in general artificial. But what is not\nartificial, and is not acquired by learning, are trances and ecstasy,\nHomer knew, too, of these phenomena. But he also knew of seers, priests,\ninterpreters of dreams, and augurs. A certain wise man in Ithaca he\ntells of (O. ii 159):--\n\n     He excelled his peers in knowledge of birds and in uttering\n     words of fate.\n\nAnd Odysseus, praying, says (O. xx. 100):--\n\n     Let some one I pray of the folk that are waking show me a\n     word of good omen within and without; let soon other sign be\n     revealed to me from Zeus.\n\nSnoring with him is a good sign. A divinely inspired seer is with the\nsuitors, telling the future by divine inspiration. Once, too, Helenus\nsays (I. vii. 53):--\n\n     He was the recipient of a divine voice.\n     By revelation from th' eternal gods.\n\nHe gives cause of believing that Socrates had actually communications\nfrom the voice of the daemon.\n\nWhat natural or scientific art is left untouched? Tragedy took its start\nfrom Homer, and afterward was raised to supremacy in words and things.\nHe shows that there is every form of tragedy; great and extraordinary\ndeeds, appearances of the gods, speech full of wisdom, revealing all\nsorts of natures. In a word, his poems are all dramas, serious and\nsublime in expression, also in feeling and in subject. But they contain\nno exhibition of unholy deeds, lawless marriages, or the murder of\nparents and children, or the other marvels of more recent tragedy. But\nwhen he mentions a thing of this kind, he seems to conceal rather than\nto condemn the crime. As he does in the case of of Clytemnestra. For he\nsays (O. iii. 266):--\n\n     That she was endowed with an excellent mind as she had with\n     her a teacher appointed by Agamemnon, to give her the\n     best advice.\n\nAegisthus got this tutor out of the way and persuaded her to sin.\nHe allows that Orestes justly avenged his father's death by killing\nAegisthus; but he passes over in silence the murder of his mother.\nMany of the like examples are to be seen in the poet, as a writer of\nmajestic, but not inhuman, tragedy.\n\nNone the less, however, Comedy took from him its origin; for he\ncontains, although he relates the gravest and most serious things,\nepisodes which move to laughter, as in the \"Iliad\" Hephaestus is\nintroduced limping and pouring out wine for the gods (I. i. 599):--\n\n     Rose laughter irrepressible, at sight\n     Of Vulcan hobbling round the spacious hall.\n\nThersites is most contemptible in body and most evil in disposition,\nfrom his raising a disturbance, and his slanderous speech and\nboastfulness. Odysseus attacks him on this account and gives occasion to\nall to laugh (I. ii. 270):--\n\n     The Greeks, despite their anger, laugh'd aloud.\n\nIn the \"Odyssey\" among the pleasure-loving Phaeacians their bard sings\nthe adultery of Ares and Aphrodite. He tells how they fell into the\nsnares of Hepheastus, and were taken in the act, and caused all the gods\nto laugh, and how they joked frequently with one another. And among the\ndissolute suitors Irus the beggar is brought in, contesting for a prize\nwith the most noble Odysseus, and how he appeared ridiculous in the\naction. Altogether it is the character of human nature, not only to be\nintense, but to take \"a moral holiday\" so that the men may be equal to\nthe troubles of life. Such relaxation for the mind is to be found in our\npoet. Those who in later days introduced Comedy to produce laughter made\nuse of bare and naked language, but they cannot claim to have invented\nanything better. Of erotic feelings and expression, Homer makes but a\nmoderate use; as Zeus says (I. iii. 442):--\n\n     For never did thy beauty so inflame my sense.\n\nAnd what follows, and about Helen (I. iii. 156):--\n\n     And 'tis no marvel, one to other said,\n     The valiant Trojans and the well-greaved Greeks\n     For beauty such as this should long endure\n     The toils of war.\n\nAnd other things of the same kind. Other poets have represented\nmen taken by this passion uncontrollably and immoderately. This is\nsufficient for this subject.\n\nEpigrams are a pleasing variety of speech; they are found on statues and\non monuments indicating succinctly to whom they are dedicated. And this,\ntoo, is a mark of Homer where he says (I. vii. 89):--\n\n     Lo! there a warrior's tomb of days gone by,\n     A mighty chief whom glorious Hector slew.\n\nAnd again (I. vi. 460):--\n\n     Lo! this was Hector's wife, who, when they fought\n     On plains of Troy, was Ilion's bravest chief.\n\nBut if any one should say that Homer was a master of painting, he would\nmake no mistake. For some of the wise men said that poetry was speaking\npainting, and painting silent poetry. Who before or who more than Homer,\nby the imagination of his thoughts or by the harmony of his verse,\nshowed and exalted gods, men, places, and different kinds of deeds? For\nhe showed by abundance of language all sorts of creatures and the most\nnotable things--lions, swine, leopards. Describing their forms and\ncharacters and comparing them to human deeds, he showed the properties\nof each. He dared to liken the forms of gods to those of men. Hephaestus\nprepared Achilles' shield; he sculptured in gold, land, sky, sea, the\ngreatness of the Sun and the beauty of the Moon and the host of the\nstars crowning all. He placed on it cities in different states and\nfortunes, and animals moving and speaking. Who has more skill than the\nartificer of such an art?\n\nLet us see in another example out of many how poems resemble more those\nthings that are seen than those that are heard. As for example, in the\npassage where he tells of the wound of Odysseus, he introduces what\nEurychleias did (O. xix. 468):--\n\n     Now the old woman took the scarred limb and passed her hand\n     down it, and knew it by the touch and let the foot drop\n     suddenly, so that the knees fell into the bath, and the vessel\n     broke, being turned over on the other side, and that water was\n     spilled on the ground.  Then grief and joy came on her in one\n     moment, and her eyes filled with tears, and the voice of her\n     utterance was stayed, and touching the chin of Odysseus, she\n     spake to him saying, \"Yea, verily, thou art Odysseus, my dear\n     child, and I knew thee not before till I had handled all the\n     body of my lord.\"  Therewithal she looked toward Penelope, as\n     minded to make a sign and the rest.\n\nFor here more things are shown than can be in a picture and those can be\nweighed by the eyes. They are not to be taken in by the eyes, but by the\nintelligence alone: such as the letting go of the foot through emotion,\nthe sound of the tears, the spilt water and the grief, and at the same\ntime the joy of the old women, her words to Odysseus, and what she\nis about to say as she looks toward Penelope. Many other things are\ngraphically revealed in the poet which come out when he is read.\n\nIt is time to close a work which we have woven, like a crown from a\nbeflowered and variegated field, and which we offer to Muses. And we,\nwe shall not lay it to the heart if any one censures us, because the\nHomeric poems contain the basis of evil things, if we ascribe to him\nvarious political, ethical, and scientific discussions. Since good\nthings are by themselves simple, straightforward, and unprepared;\nbut what is mixed with evil has many different modes and all kinds of\ncombinations, from which the substance of the matter is derived. If evil\nis added to the others, the knowledge and choice of the good is made\neasier. And on the whole a subject of this sort gives occasion to the\npoet for originating discourse of all kinds, some belonging to himself,\nsome proper to the characters he introduces. From this circumstance be\ngives much profit to his readers. Why should we not ascribe to Homer\nevery excellence? Those things that he did not work up, they who came\nafter him have noticed. And some make use of his verses for divination,\nlike the oracles of God. Others setting forward other projects fit to\nthem for our use what he has said by changing or transposing it.\n\n\nEND OF TWELVE--------------\n\n\n\n\nTHE BANQUET OF THE SEVEN WISE MEN.\n\nTHE SEVEN,--SOLON, DIAS, THALES, ANACHARSIS, CLEOBULUS, PITTACUS, CHILO.\n\nNILOXENUS, EUMETIS, ALEXIDEMUS PERIANDER, ARDALUS, AESOP, CLEODEMUS,\nMNESIPHILUS, CHERSIAS, GORGIAS, DIOCLES.\n\nDIOCLES TO NICARCHUS\n\nNo wonder, my friend Nicarchus, to find old truths so disguised, and\nthe words and actions of men so grossly and misrepresented and lamely\ndelivered, seeing people are so disposed to give ear and credit to\nfictions of yesterday's standing. For there were not merely seven\npresent at that feast, as you were informed; there were more than double\nthe number. I was there myself in person familiarly acquainted with\nPeriander (my art had gained me his acquaintance); and Thales boarded\nat my house, at the request and upon the recommendation of Periander.\nWhoever then gave you that account of our feast did it very\ninadequately; it is plain he did it upon hearsay and that he was not\nthere among us. Now, that we are together and at leisure, and possibly\nwe may not live to find an opportunity so convenient another time,\nI will (as you wish it) give you a faithful account of the whole\nproceedings at that meeting.\n\nPeriander had prepared a dinner for us, not in the town, but in a\ndining-hall which stands close to the temple of Venus, to whom there\nwas a sacrifice that day. For having neglected the duty ever since his\nmother died for love, he was resolved now to atone for the omission,\nbeing warned so to do by the dreams of Melissa. In order thereunto,\nthere was provided a rich chariot for every one of the guests. It was\nsummer-time, and every part of the way quite to the seaside was hardly\npassable, by reason of throngs of people and whole clouds of dust. As\nsoon as Thales espied the chariot waiting at the door, he smilingly\ndischarged it, and we walked through the fields to avoid the press and\nnoise. There was in our company a third person, Niloxenus a Naucratian,\nan eminent man, who was very intimately acquainted with Solon and Thales\nin Egypt; he had a message to deliver to Bias, and a letter sealed,\nthe contents whereof he knew not; only he guessed it contained a second\nquestion to be resolved by Bias, and in case Bias undertook not to\nanswer it, he had in commission to impart it to the wisest men in\nGreece. What a fortune is this (quoth Niloxenus) to find you all\ntogether! This paper (showing it us) I am bringing to the banquet.\nThales replied, after his wonted smiling way, If it contains any hard\nquestion, away with it to Priene. Bias will resolve it with the same\nreadiness he did your former problem. What problem was that? quoth he.\nWhy, saith Thales, a certain person sent him a beast for sacrifice with\nthis command, that he should return him that part of his flesh which was\nbest and worst; our philosopher very gravely and wisely pulled out\nthe tongue of the beast, and sent it to the donor;--which single act\nprocured him the name and reputation of a very wise man. It was not\nthis act alone that advanced him in the estimation of the world, quoth\nNiloxenus; but he joyfully embraces what you so carefully shun, the\nacquaintance and friendship of kings and great men; and whereas he\nhonors you for divers great accomplishments, he particularly admires\nyou for this invention, that with little labor and no help of any\nmathematical instrument you took so truly the height of one of the\npyramids; for fixing your staff erect at the point of the shadow which\nthe pyramid cast, two triangles being thus made by the tangent rays of\nthe sun, you demonstrated that what proportion one shadow had to the\nother, such the pyramid bore to the stick.\n\nBut, as I said, you are accused of being a hater of kings, and certain\nfalse friends of yours have presented Amasis with a paper of yours\nstuffed with sentences reproachful to majesty; as for instance, being\nat a certain time asked by Molpagoras the Ionian, what the most absurd\nthing was you had observed in your notice, you replied, An old king.\nAnother time, in a dispute that happened in your company about the\nnature of beasts, you affirmed that of wild beasts, a king, of tame, a\nflatterer, was the worst. Such apothegms must needs be unacceptable to\nkings, who pretend there is vast difference between them and tyrants.\nThis was Pittacus's reply to Myrsilus, and it was spoken in jest, quoth\nThales; nor was it an old king I said I should marvel at, but an old\npilot. In this mistake however, I am much of the youth's mind who,\nthrowing a stone at a dog, hit his stepmother, adding, Not so bad. I\ntherefore esteemed Solon a very wise and good man, when I understood he\nrefused empire; and if Pittacus had not taken upon himself a monarchy,\nhe had never exclaimed, O ye gods! how hard a matter it is to be good!\nAnd Periander, however he seems to be sick of his father's disease,\nis yet to be commended that he gives ear to wholesome discourses\nand converses only with wise and good men, rejecting the advice of\nThrasybulus my countryman who would have persuaded him to chop off the\nheads of the leading men. For a prince that chooses rather to govern\nslaves than freemen is like a foolish farmer, who throws his wheat and\nbarley in the streets, to fill his barns with swarms of locusts and\nwhole cages of birds. For government has one good thing to make amends\nfor its many evils, namely, honor and glory, provided one rules good men\nas being better than they and great men because greater than they. But\nhe that having ascended the throne minds only his own interest and ease,\nis fitter to tend sheep or to drive horses or to feed cattle than to\ngovern men.\n\nBut this stranger (continues he) has engaged us in a deal of impertinent\nchat, for we have omitted to speak or offer any discourse suitable to\nthe occasion and end of our meeting; for doubtless it becomes the guest\nas well as the host, to make preparation beforehand. It is reported that\nthe Sybarites used to invite their neighbors' wives a whole twelve-month\nbefore to their entertainments, that they might have convenient time\nto trim and adorn themselves; for my part, I am of opinion, that he\nwho would feast as he should ought to allow himself more time for\npreparation than they, it being a more difficult matter to compose the\nmind into an agreeable temper than to fit one's clothes for the outward\nornament of the body. For a prudent man comes not hither only to fill\nhis belly, as if he were to fill a bottle, but to be sometimes grave\nand serious, sometimes pleasant, sometimes to listen to others, and\nsometimes to speak himself what may benefit or divert the company, if\nthe meeting is intended for any good use or purpose. For if the victuals\nbe not good, men may let them alone, or if the wine be bad, men may\nuse water; but for a weak-brained, impertinent, unmannerly, shallow\nfellow-commoner there is no cure; he mars all the mirth and music,\nand spoils the best entertainment in the world. And it will be no easy\nbusiness to lay aside a sullen temper; since we find divers men, angered\nin their debauches, have yet remembered the provocation to their dying\nday, the spite remaining like a surfeit arising from wrong done or an\ninsult received in drinking. Wherefore Chilo did very well and wisely;\nfor when he invited yesterday, he would not promise to come till he had\na particular given him of all their names who were to meet him. For,\nquoth he, if my business calls me to sea or I am pressed to serve my\nprince in his wars, there is a necessity upon me to rest contented with\nwhatever company I fall into, though never so unsuitable to my quality\nor disagreeable to my nature and humor; but voluntarily and needlessly\nto associate myself with any riffraff rabble would ill become any man\npretending to but common discretion.\n\nThe Egyptian skeleton which they brought into their feasts and exposed\nto the view of their guests, with this advice, that they should not in\ntheir merriment forget they would shortly be themselves such as that\nwas,--though it was a sight not so acceptable (as may be supposed),--had\nyet this conveniency and use, to incite the spectators not to luxury and\ndrunkenness but to mutual love and friendship, persuading them not to\nprotract a life in itself short and uncertain by a tedious course of\nwickedness.\n\nIn discourses of this kind we spent our time by the way, and were now\ncome to the house. Here Thales would not be washed, for he had but a\nwhile before anointed himself; wherefore he took a round to view the\nhorse-race and the wrestling-place, and the grove upon the water-side,\nwhich was neatly trimmed and beautified by Periander; this he did, not\nso much to satisfy his own curiosity (for he seldom or never admired\nanything he saw), but that he might not disoblige Periander or seem to\noverlook or despise the glory and magnificence of our host. Of the\nrest every one, after he had anointed and washed himself, the servants\nintroduced into a particular room, purposely fitted and prepared for the\nmen; they were guided thither through a porch, in which Anacharsis sat,\nand there was a certain young lady with him combing his hair. This lady\nstepping forward to welcome Thales, he kissed her most courteously, and\nsmiling said: Madam, make our host fair and pleasant, so that, being (as\nhe is) the mildest man in the world, he may not be fearful and terrible\nfor us to look on. When I was curious to inquire who this lady was, he\nsaid, Do you not yet know the wise and famous Eumetis? for so her father\ncalls her, though others call her after her father's name Cleobulina.\nDoubtless, saith Niloxenus, they call her by this name to commend her\njudgment and wit, and her reach into the more abstruse and recondite\npart of learning; for I have myself in Egypt seen and read some problems\nfirst started and discussed by her. Not so, saith Thales, for she plays\nwith these as with cockal-bones, and deals boldly with all she meets;\nshe is a person of an admirable understanding, of a shrewd capacious\nmind, of a very obliging conversation, and one that prevails upon her\nfather to govern his subjects with the greatest mildness. How democratic\nshe is appears, saith Niloxenus, plainly to any that observes her simple\ninnocent garb. But pray, continues he, wherefore is it that she shows\nsuch affection to Anacharsis? Because, replied Thales, he is a\ntemperate and learned man, who fully and freely makes known to her those\nmysterious ways of dieting and physicing the sick which are now in use\namong the Scythians; and I doubt not she now coaxes and courts the old\ngentleman at the rate you see, taking this opportunity to discourse with\nhim and learn something of him.\n\nAs we were come near the dining-room, Alexidemus the Milesian, a bastard\nson of Thrasybulus the Tyrant, met us. He seemed to be disturbed, and\nin an angry tone muttered to himself some words which we could not\ndistinctly hear; but espying Thales, and recovering himself out of his\ndisorder, he complained how Periander had put an insufferable affront\nupon him. He would not permit me, saith he, to go to sea, though I\nearnestly importuned him, but he would press me to dine with him. And\nwhen I came as invited, he assigned me a seat unbecoming my person and\ncharacter, Aeolians and islanders and others of inferior rank being\nplaced above me; whence it is easy to infer how meanly he thinks of\nmy father, and it is undeniable how this affront put upon me rebounds\ndisgracefully in my parent's face. Say you so? quoth Thales, are you\nafraid lest the place lessen or diminish your honor and worth, as the\nEgyptians commonly hold the stars are magnified or lessened according to\ntheir higher or lower place and position? And are you more foolish than\nthat Spartan who, when the prefect of the music had appointed him to sit\nin the lowest seat in the choir, replied, This is prudently done, for\nthis is the ready way to bring this seat into repute and esteem? It is\na frivolous consideration, where or below whom we sit; and it is a wiser\npart to adapt ourselves to the judgment and humor of our right and left\nhand man and the rest of the company, that we may approve ourselves\nworthy of their friendship, when they find we take no pet at our\nhost, but are rather pleased to be placed near such good company. And\nwhosoever is disturbed upon the account of his place seems to be more\nangry with his neighbor than with his host, but certainly is very\ntroublesome and nauseous to both.\n\nThese are fine words, and no more, quoth Alexidemus, for I observe you,\nthe wisest of men, as ambitious as other men; and having said thus, he\npassed by us doggedly and trooped off. Thales, seeing us admiring the\ninsolence of the man, declared he was a fellow naturally of a blockish,\nstupid disposition; for when he was a boy, he took a parcel of rich\nperfume that was presented to Thrasybulus and poured it into a large\nbowl and mixing it with a quantity of wine, drank it off and was ever\nhated for it. As Thales was talking after this fashion, in comes a\nservant and tells us it was Periander's pleasure we would come in\nand inform him what we thought of a certain creature brought into his\npresence that instant, whether it were so born by chance or were a\nmonster and omen;--himself seeming mightily affected and concerned,\nfor he judged his sacrifice polluted by it. At the same time he walked\nbefore us into a certain house adjoining to his garden-wall, where we\nfound a young beardless shepherd, tolerably handsome, who having opened\na leathern bag produced and showed us a child born (as he averred) of\na mare. His upper parts as far as his neck and his hands, was of human\nshape, and the rest of his body resembled a perfect horse; his cry was\nlike that of a child newly born. As soon as Niloxenus saw it, he cried\nout. The gods deliver us; and away he fled as one sadly affrighted. But\nThales eyed the shepherd a considerable while, and then smiling (for it\nwas his way to jeer me perpetually about my art) says he, I doubt not,\nDiocles, but you have been all this time seeking for some expiatory\nsacrifice, and meaning to call to your aid those gods whose province and\nwork it is to avert evils from men, as if some greet and grievous thing\nhad happened. Why not? quoth I, for undoubtedly this prodigy portends\nsedition and war, and I fear the dire portents thereof may extend to\nmyself, my wife, and my children, and prove all our ruin; since, before\nI have atoned for my former fault, the goddess gives us this second\nevidence and proof of her displeasure. Thales replied never a word,\nbut laughing went out of the house. Periander, meeting him at the door,\ninquired what we thought of that creature; he dismissed me, and taking\nPeriander by the hand, said, Whatsoever Diocles shall persuade you to\ndo, do it at your best leisure; but I advise you either not to have such\nyouthful men to keep your mares, or to give them leave to marry. When\nPeriander heard him out, he seemed infinitely pleased, for he laughed\noutright, and hugging Thales in his arms he kissed him; then saith he,\nO Diocles, I am apt to think the worst is over, and what this prodigy\nportended is now at an end; for do you not apprehend what a loss we have\nsustained in the want of Alexidemus's good company at supper?\n\nWhen we entered into the house, Thales raising his voice inquired where\nit was his worship refused to be placed; which being shown him, he sat\nhimself in that very place, and prayed us to sit down by him, and said,\nI would gladly give any money to have an opportunity to sit and eat\nwith Ardalus. This Ardalus was a Troezenian by birth, by profession a\nminstrel, and a priest of the Ardalian Muses, whose temple old Ardalus\nhad founded and dedicated. Here Aesop, who was sent from Croesus to\nvisit Periander, and withal to consult the oracle at Delphi, sitting\nby and beneath Solon upon a low stool, told the company this fable:\nA Lydian mule, viewing his own picture in a river, and admiring the\nbigness and beauty of his body, raises his crest; he waxes proud,\nresolving to imitate the horse in his gait and running; but presently,\nrecollecting his extraction, how that his father was but an ass at best,\nhe stops his career and cheeks his own haughtiness and bravery. Chilo\nreplied, after his short concise way, You are slow and yet try to run,\nin imitation of your mule.\n\nAmidst these discourses in comes Melissa and sits her down by Periander;\nEumetis followed and came in as we were at supper; then Thales calls to\nme (I sat me down above Bias), Why do you not make Bias acquainted with\nthe problems sent him from the King by Niloxenus this second time, that\nhe may soberly and warily weigh them? Bias answered, I have been already\nscared with that news. I have known that Bacchus is otherwise a powerful\ndeity, and for his wisdom is termed [Greek omitted] that is, THE\nINTERPRETER; therefore I shall undertake it when my belly is full of\nwine. Thus they jested and reparteed and played one upon another all the\nwhile they sat at table. Observing the unwonted frugality of Periander\nat this time, I considered with myself that the entertainment of\nwise and good men is a piece of good husbandry, and that so far from\nenhancing a man's expenses in truth it serves to save charge, the charge\n(to wit) of costly foreign unguents and junkets, and the waste of the\nrichest wines, which Periander's state and greatness required him\nevery day in his ordinary treats to expend. Such costly provisions\nwere useless here, and Periander's wisdom appeared in his frugality.\nMoreover, his lady had laid aside her richer habit, and appeared in an\nordinary, but a very becoming dress.\n\n\n\nSupper now ended, and Melissa having distributed the garlands, we\noffered sacrifice; and when the minstrel had played us a tune or two,\nshe withdrew. Then Ardalus inquired of Anacharsis, if there were women\nfiddlers at Scythia. He suddenly and smartly replied, There are no vines\nthere. Ardalus asked a second question, whether the Scythians had any\ngods among them. Yes, quoth Anacharsis, and they understand what men\nsay to them; nor are the Scythians of the Grecian opinion (however these\nlast may be the better orators), that the gods are better pleased with\nthe sounds of flutes and pipes than with the voice of men. My friend,\nsaith Aesop, what would you say if you saw our present pipe-makers\nthrow away the bones of fawns and hind-calves, to use those of asses,\naffirming they yield the sweeter and more melodious sound? Whereupon\nCleobulina made one of her riddles about the Phrygian flute,... in\nregard to the sound, and wondered that an ass, a gross animal and so\nalien from music should yet supply bones so fit for harmony. Therefore\nit is doubtless, quoth Niloxenus, that the people of Busiris blame\nus Naucratians for using pipes made of asses' bones it being an\ninsufferable crime in an of them to listen to the flute or cornet, the\nsound thereof being (as they esteem it) so like the braying of an ass;\nand you know an ass is hateful to the Egyptians on account of Typhon.\n\nThere happening here a short silence, Periander, observing Niloxenus\nwilling but not daring to speak, said: I cannot but commend the civility\nof those magistrates who give audience first to strangers and afterwards\nto their own citizens; wherefore I judge it convenient that we\ninhabitants and neighbors should proceed no farther at present in our\ndiscourse, and that now attention be given to those royal propositions\nsent us from Egypt, which the worthy Niloxenus is commissioned to\ndeliver to Bias, who wishes that he and we may scan and examine them\ntogether. And Bias said: For where or in what company would a man more\njoyfully adventure to give his opinion than here in this? And since\nit is his Majesty's pleasure that I should give my judgment first, in\nobedience to his commands I will do so, and afterwards they shall come\nto every one of you in order.\n\nThen Niloxenus delivered the paper to Bias, who broke up the seal and\ncommanded it to be read in all their hearing. The contents were these:\n\nAmasis the king of Egypt, to Bias, the wisest of the Grecians, greeting.\nThere is a contest between my brother of Ethiopia and myself about\nwisdom; and being baffled in divers other particulars, he now demands of\nme a thing absurd and impracticable; for he requires me to drink up the\nocean dry. If I be able to read this his riddle, divers cities and towns\nnow in his possession are to be annexed to my kingdom; but if I cannot\nresolve this hard sentence, and give him the right meaning thereof, he\nrequires of me my right to all the towns bordering upon Elephantina.\nConsider with speed the premises, and let me receive your thoughts by\nNiloxenus. Pray lose no time. If in anything I can be serviceable to\nyour city or friends, you may command me. Farewell.\n\nBias, having perused and for a little time meditated upon the letter,\nand whispering Cleobulus in the ear (he sat by him), exclaimed: What a\nnarration is here, O Niloxenus! Will Amasis, who governs so many men and\nis seized of so many flourishing territories, drink up the ocean for the\ngain of a few paltry, beggarly villages? Niloxenus replied with a smile:\nConsider, good sir, what is to be done, if he will obey. Why then, said\nBias, let Amasis require the Ethopian king to stop the stream which from\nall parts flow and empty themselves in the ocean, until he have drunk\nout the whole remainder; for I conceive he means the present waters, not\nthose which shall flow into it hereafter. Niloxenus was so overjoyed at\nthis answer, that he could not contain himself. He hugged and kissed\nthe author, and the whole company liked his opinion admirably well; and\nChilo laughing desired Niloxenus to get aboard immediately before the\nsea was consumed, and tell his master he should mind more how to render\nhis government sweet and potable to his people, than how to swallow\nsuch a quantity of salt water. For Bias, he told him, understands these\nthings very well, and knows how to oblige your lord with very useful\ninstructions, which if he vouchsafe to attend, he shall no more need a\ngolden basin to wash his feet, to gain respect from his subjects; all\nwill love and honor him for his virtue, though he were ten thousand\ntimes more hateful to them than he is. It were well and worthily done,\nquoth Periander, if all of us did pay him our first-fruits in this kind\nby the poll (as Homer said). Such a course would bring him an accession\nof profit greater than the whole proceeds of the voyage, besides being\nof great use to ourselves.\n\nTo this point it is fit that Solon should first speak, quoth Chilo,\nnot only because he is the eldest in the company and therefore sits\nuppermost at table, but because he governs and gives laws to the amplest\nand most complete and flourishing republic in the world, that of Athens.\nHere Niloxenus whispered me in the ear: O Diocles, saith he, how many\nreports fly about and are believed, and how some men delight in lies\nwhich they either feign of their own heads or most greedily swallow\nfrom the mouths of others. In Egypt I heard it reported how Chilo had\nrenounced all friendship and correspondence with Solon, because he\nmaintained the mutability of laws. A ridiculous fiction, quoth I, for\nthen he and we must have renounced Lycurgus, who changed the laws and\nindeed the whole government of Sparta.\n\nSolon, pausing awhile, gave his opinion in these words. I conceive that\nmonarch, whether king or tyrant, were infinitely to be commanded, who\nwould exchange his monarchy for a commonwealth. Bias subjoined, And who\nwould be first and foremost in conforming to the laws of his country.\nThales added, I reckon that prince happy, who, being old, dies in his\nbed a natural death. Fourthly, Anacharsis, If he alone be a wise man.\nFifthly, Cleobulus said, If he trust none of his courtiers. Sixthly,\nPittacus spake thus, If he could so treat his subjects that they feared\nnot him but for him. Lastly, Chilo concluded thus, A magistrate ought to\nmeditate no mortal thing but everything immortal.\n\nWhen all had given in their judgments upon this point, we requested\nPeriander to let us know his thoughts. Disorder and discontent appearing\nin his countenance, he said, These opinions are enough to scare any\nwise man from affecting, empire. These things, saith Aesop after his\nreproving way, ought rather to have been discussed privately among\nourselves, lest we be accounted antimonarchical while we desire to be\nesteemed friends and loyal counsellors. Solon, gently touching him on\nthe head and smiling, answered: Do you not perceive that any one would\nmake a king more moderate and a tyrant more favorable, who should\npersuade him that it is better not to reign than to reign? Who would\nbelieve you before the oracle delivered unto you, quoth Aesop which\npronounced that city happy that heard but one crier. Yes, quoth Solon,\nand Athens, now a commonwealth, hath but one crier and one magistrate,\nthe law, though the government be democratical; but you, my friend, have\nbeen so accustomed to the croaking of ravens and the prating of jays,\nthat you do not hear clearly your own voice. For you maintain it to\nbe the happiness of a city to be under the command of one man, and yet\naccount it the merit of a feast if liberty is allowed every man to\nspeak his mind freely upon what subject he pleases. But you have not\nprohibited your servants' drunkenness at Athens, Aesop said, as you have\nforbidden them to love or to use dry ointments. Solon laughed at this;\nbut Cleodorus the physician said: To use dry ointment is like talking\nwhen a man is soaked with wine; both are very pleasant. Therefore, saith\nChilo, men ought the more carefully to avoid it. Aesop proceeds, Thales\nseemed to imply that he should soon grow old.\n\nPeriander said laughing: We suffer deservedly, for, before we have\nperfected any remarks upon the letter, we are fallen upon disputes\nforeign to the matter under consideration; and therefore I pray,\nNiloxenus, read out the remainder of your lord's letter, and slip not\nthis opportunity to receive what satisfaction all that are present\nshall be able to give you. The command of the king of Ethiopia, says\nNiloxenus, is no more and no less than (to use Archilochus's phrase) a\nbroken scytale; that is, the meaning is inscrutable and cannot be found\nout. But your master Amasis was more mild and polite in his queries;\nfor he commanded him only to resolve him what was most ancient, most\nbeautiful, greatest, wisest, most common, and withal, what was most\nprofitable, most pernicious, most strong, and most easy. Did he resolve\nand answer every one of these questions? He did, quoth Niloxenus, and\ndo you judge of his answers and the soundness thereof: and it is my\nPrince's purpose not to misrepresent his responses and condemn unjustly\nwhat he saith well, so, where he finds him under a mistake, not to\nsuffer that to pass without correction. His answers to the foresaid\nquestions I will read to you.--What is most ancient? Time. What is\ngreatest? The World. What is wisest? Truth. What is most beautiful? The\nlight. What is most common? Death. What is most profitable? God. What\nis most Pernicious? An evil genius. What is strongest? Fortune. What is\nmost easy? That which is pleasant.\n\nWhen Niloxenus had read out these answers, there was a short silence\namong them; by and by Thales desires Niloxenus to inform him if Amasis\napproved of these answers. Niloxenus said, he liked some and disliked\nothers. There is not one of them right and sound, quoth Thales, but all\nare full of wretched folly and ignorance. As for instance, how can that\nbe most ancient whereof part is past, part is now present, and part\nis yet to come; every man knows it is younger than ourselves and our\nactions. As to his answer that truth is the most wise thing, it is as\nincongruous as if he had affirmed the light to be an eye if he judged\nthe light to be the most beautiful how could he omit the sun; as to\nhis solutions concerning the gods and evil genuises, they are full of\npresumption and peril. What he saith of Fortune is void of sense, for\nher inconstancy and fickleness proceed from want of strength and power.\nNor is death the most common thing; the living are still at liberty,\nit hath not arrested them. But lest we be blamed as having a faculty\nto find fault only, we will lay down our opinions of these things, and\ncompare them with those of the Ethiopian; I offer my self first, if\nNiloxenus pleases, to deliver my opinion on every one singly and I will\nrelate both questions and answers in that method and order in which\nthey were sent to Ethiopia and read to us. What is most ancient Thales\nanswered, God, for he had no beginning. What is greatest? Place; the\nWorld contains all other things, this surrounds and contains the world.\nWhat is most beautiful? The world; for whatever is framed artificially\nand methodically is a part of it. What is most wise? Time; for it has\nfound out some things already, it will find out the rest in due time.\nWhat is most common Hope; for they that want other things are masters of\nthis. What is most profitable? Virtue; for by a right managery of other\nthings she makes them all beneficial and advantageous. What is most\npernicious? Vice; for it depraves the best things we enjoy. What is most\nstrong? Necessity; for this alone is insuperable. What is most easy?\nThat which is most agreeable to nature; for pleasures themselves are\nsometimes tedious and nauseating.\n\nAll the consult approved of Thale's solutions. Cleodemus said: My friend\nNiloxenus, it becomes kings to propound and resolve such questions;\nbut the insolence of that barbarian who would have Amasis drink the sea\nwould have been better fitted by such a smart reprimand as Pittacus gave\nAlyattes, who sent an imperious letter to the Lesbians. He made him no\nother answer, but to bid him spend his time in eating his hot bread and\nonions.\n\nPeriander, here assumed the discourse, and said: It was the manner of\nthe ancient Grecians heretofore, O Cleodemus, to propound doubts to\none another; and it hath been told us, that the most famous and\neminent poets used to meet at the grave of Amphidamas in Chalcis. This\nAmphidamas was a leading commander, one that had perpetual wars with the\nEretrians, and at last lost his life in one of the battles fought for\nthe possession of the Lelantine plain. Now, because the writings of\nthose poets were set to verse and so made the argument more knotty and\nthe decision more arduous, and the great names of the antagonists,\nHomer and Hesiod, whose excellence was so well known, made the umpires\ntimorous and shy to determine; they therefore betook themselves to these\nsorts of questions, and Homer, says Lesches, propounded this riddle:--\n\n     Tell me, O Muse, what never was\n     And never yet shall be.\n\nHesiod answered readily and extempore in this wise:--\n\n     When steeds with echoing hoof, to win\n       The prize, shall run amain;\n     And on the tomb of lofty Jove\n       Their chariots break in twain.\n\nFor this reply he was infinitely commended and got the tripod. Pray tell\nme, quoth Cleodemus, what difference there is between these riddles and\nthose of Eumetis, which she frames and invents to recreate herself with\nas much pleasure as other virgins make nets and girdles? They may be fit\nto offer and puzzle women withal; but for men to beat their brains to\nfind out their mystery would be mighty ridiculous. Eumetis looked like\none that had a great mind to reply; but her modesty would not permit\nher, for her face was filled with blushes. But Aesop in her vindication\nasked: Is it not much more ridiculous that all present cannot resolve\nthe riddle she propounded to us before supper? This was as follows:--\n\n     A man I saw, who by his fire\n       Did set a piece of brass\n     Fast to a man, so that it seemed\n       To him it welded was.\n\nCan you tell me, said he, how to construe this, and what the sense of it\nmay be? No, said Cleodemus, it is no profit to know what it means. And\nyet, quoth Aesop, no man understands this thing better and practises it\nmore judiciously and successfully than yourself. If you deny it, I\nhave my witnesses ready; for there are your cupping-glasses. Cleodemus\nlaughed outright; for of all the physicians in his time, none used\ncupping-glasses like him, he being a person that by his frequent and\nfortunate application thereof brought them first into request in the\nworld.\n\nMnesiphilus the Athenian, a friend and favorite of Solon's, said: O\nPeriander, our discourse, as our wine, ought to be distributed not\naccording to our power or priority, but freely and equally, as in a\npopular state; for what hath been already discoursed concerning kingdoms\nand empires signifies little to us who live in a democracy. Wherefore I\njudge it convenient that every one of you, commencing with Solon, should\nfreely and impartially declare his sense of a popular state. The motion\npleased all the company; then saith Solon: My friend Mnesiphilus,\nyou heard, together with the rest of this good company, my opinion\nconcerning republics; but since you are willing to hear it again, I hold\nthat city or state happy and most likely to remain free, in which those\nthat are not personally injured are yet as forward to try and punish\nwrongdoers as that person who is wronged. Bias added, Where all fear the\nlaw as they fear a tyrant. Thirdly, Thales said, Where the citizens are\nneither too rich nor too poor. Fourthly, Anacharsis said, Where, though\nin all other respects they are equal, yet virtuous men are advanced and\nvicious persons degraded. Fifthly, Cleobulus said, Where the rulers fear\nreproof and shame more than the law. Sixthly, Pittacus said, Where evil\nmen are kept from ruling, and good men from not ruling. Chilo, pausing a\nlittle while, determined that the best and most enduring state was\nwhere the subject minded the law most and the lawyers least. Periander\nconcluded with his opinion, that all of them would best approve that\ndemocracy which came next and was likest to an aristocracy.\n\nAfter they had ended this discourse, I begged they would condescend to\ndirect me how to govern a house; for they were few who had cities and\nkingdoms to govern, compared with those who had houses and families to\nmanage. Aesop laughed and said: I hope you except Anacharsis out of your\nnumber; for having no house he glories because he can be contented with\na chariot only, as they say the sun is whirled about from one end of\nthe heavens to the other in his chariot. Therefore, saith Anacharsis, he\nalone, or he principally, is most free among the gods, and ever at his\nown liberty and dispose. He governs all, and is governed and subject\nto none, but he rides and reigns; and you know not how magnificent\nand broad his chariot is; if you did, you would not thus floutingly\ndepreciate our Scythian chariots. For you seem in my apprehension to\ncall these coverings made of wood and mud houses, as if you should call\nthe shell and not the living creature a snail. Therefore you laughed\nwhen Solon told you how, when he viewed Croesus's palace and found it\nrichly and gloriously furnished, he yet could not yield he lived happily\nuntil he had tried the inward and invisible state of his mind; for\na man's felicity consists not in the outward and visible favors and\nblessings of fortune, but in the inward and unseen perfections and\nriches of the mind. And you seem to have forgot your own fable of the\nfox, who, contending with the leopard as to which possessed more\ncolors and spots, and having referred the matter in controversy to\nthe arbitration of an umpire, desired him to consider not so much the\noutside as the inside; for, saith he, I have more various and different\nfetches and tricks in my mind than he has marks or spots in his\nbody. You regard only the handiwork of carpenters and masons and\nstone-cutters, and call this a house; not what one hath within, his\nchildren, his wife, his friends and attendants, with whom if a man lived\nin an emmet's bed or a bird's nest, enjoying in common the ordinary\ncomforts of life, this man may be affirmed to live a happy and a\nfortunate life.\n\nThis is the answer I purpose to return Aesop, quoth Anacharsis, and I\ntender it to Diocles as my share in this discourse; only let the rest\ngive in their opinions, if they please. Solon thought that house most\nhappy where the estate was got without injustice, kept without distrust,\nand spent without repentance. Bias said, That house is happy where the\nmaster does freely and voluntarily what the law would else compel him to\ndo. Thales held that house most happy where the master had most leisure\nand respite from business. Cleobulus said, That in which the master\nis more beloved than feared. Pittacus said, most that is happy where\nsuperfluities are not required and necessaries are not wanting. Chilo\nadded, that house is most happy where one rules as a monarch in his\nkingdom. And he proceeded, when a certain Lacedaemonian desired Lycurgus\nto establish a democracy in the city. Go you, friend, replied he, and\ntry the experiment first in your own house.\n\nWhen they had all given in their opinions upon this point, Eumetis and\nMelissa withdrew. Then Periander called for a large bowl full of wine,\nand drank to Chilo; and Chilo too drank to Bias. Ardalus then standing\nup called to Aesop, and said: Will you not hand the cup to your friends\nat this end of the table, when you behold those persons there swilling\nup all that good liquor, and imparting none to us here as if the cup\nwere that of Bathycles. But this cup, quoth Aesop, is no public cup,\nit hath stood so long by Solon's trenchard. Then Pittacus called\nto Mnesiphilus: Why, saith he, does not Solon drink, but act in\ncontradiction to his own verses?--\n\n     I love that ruby god, whose blessings flow\n     In tides, to recreate my thirsty maw;\n     Venus I court, the Muses I adore,\n     Who give us wine and pleasures evermore.\n\nAnacharsis subjoined: He fears your severe law, my friend Pittacus,\nwherein you decreed the drunkard a double punishment. You seem, said\nPittacus, a little to fear the penalty, who have adventured heretofore,\nand now again before my face, to break that law and to demand a crown\nfor the reward of your debauch. Why not, quoth Anacharsis, when there\nis a reward promised to the hardest drinker? Why should I not demand my\nreward, having drunk down all my fellows?--or inform me of any other end\nmen drive at in drinking much wine, but to be drunk. Pittacus laughed at\nthis reply, and Aesop told them this fable: The wolf seeing a parcel\nof shepherds in their booth feeding upon a lamb, approaching near\nthem,--What a bustle and noise and uproar would there have been, saith\nhe, if I had but done what you do! Chilo said: Aesop hath very justly\nrevenged himself upon us, who awhile ago stopped his mouth; now he\nobserves how we prevented Mnesiphilus's discourse, when the question was\nput why Solon did not drink up his wine.\n\nMnesiphilus then spake to this effect: I know this to be the opinion of\nSolon, that in every art and faculty, divine and human, the work which\nis done is more desired than the instrument wherewith it is done, and\nthe end than the means conducing to that end; as, for instance, a weaver\nthinks a cloak or coat more properly his work than the ordering of his\nshuttles or the divers motions of his beams. A smith minds the soldering\nof his irons and the sharpening of the axe more than those little\nthings accessory to these main matters, as the kindling of the coals and\npreparing the stone-dust. Yet farther, a carpenter would justly blame\nus, if we should affirm it is not his work to build houses or ships\nbut to bore holes or to make mortar; and the Muses would be implacably\nincensed with him that should say their business is only to make harps,\npipes and such musical instruments, not the institution and correcting\nof manners and the government of those men's passions who are lovers of\nsinging and masters of music. And agreeably copulation is not the work\nof Venus, nor is drunkenness that of Bacchus; but love and friendship,\naffection and familiarity, which are begot and improved by and the means\nof these. Solon terms these works divine, and he professes he loves and\nnow prosecutes them in his declining years as vigorously as ever in\nhis youthful days. That mutual love between man and wife is the work of\nVenus, the greatness of the pleasure affecting their bodies mixes and\nmelts their very souls; divers others, having little or no acquaintance\nbefore, have yet contracted a firm and lasting friendship over a glass\nof wine, which like fire softened and melted their tempers, and disposed\nthem for a happy union. But in such a company, and of such men as\nPeriander hath invited, there is no need of can and chalice, but the\nMuses themselves throwing a subject of discourse among you, as it were\na sober cup, wherein is contained much of delight and drollery and\nseriousness too, do hereby provoke, nourish, and increase friendship\namong you, allowing the cup to rest quietly upon the bowl, contrary to\nthe rule which Hesiod (Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 744.) gives for those\nwho have more skill for carousing than for discoursing.\n\n     Though all the rest with stated rules we bound\n     Unmix'd, unmeasured are thy goblets crown'd\n     (\"Iliad\" iv. 261.)\n\nfor it was the old Greek way, as Homer here tells us, to drink one to\nanother in course and order. So Ajax gave a share of his meat to his\nnext neighbor.\n\nWhen Mnesiphilus had discoursed after this manner, in comes Chersias the\npoet, whom Periander had lately pardoned and received into favor upon\nChilo's mediation. Saith Cherias: Does not Jupiter distribute to the\ngods their proportion and share sparingly and severally, as Agamemnon\ndid to his commanders when his guests pledged one another? If, O\nChersias, quoth Cleodemus, as you narrate, certain pigeons bring him\nambrosia every meal, winging with a world of hardship through the rocks\ncalled PLANCTAE (or WANDERING), can you blame him for his sparingness\nand frugality and dealing out to his guests by measure?\n\nI am satisfied, quoth Chersias, and since we are fallen upon our old\ndiscourse of housekeeping, which of the company can remember what\nremains to be said thereof? There remains, if I mistake not, to show\nwhat that measure is which may content any man. Cleobulus answered: The\nlaw has prescribed a measure for wise men; but as touching foolish ones\nI will tell you a story I once heard my father relate to my brother. On\na certain time the moon begged of her mother a coat that would fit\nher. How can that be done, quoth the mother, for sometime you are full,\nsometimes the one half of you seems lost and perished, sometimes only\na pair of horns appear. So, my Chersias, to the desires of a foolish\nimmoderate man no certain measure can be fitted; for according to the\nebbing and flowing of his lust and appetite, and the frequent or seldom\ncasualties that befall him, accordingly his necessities ebb and flow,\nnot unlike Aesop's dog, who, being pinched and ready to starve with the\ncold winter, was a mind to build himself a house; but when summer came\non, he lay all along upon the ground, and stretching himself in the sun\nthought himself monstrous big, and thought it unnecessary and besides no\nsmall labor to build him a house portionable to that bulk and bigness.\nAnd do you not observe, O Chersias, continues he, many poor men,--how\none while they pinch their bellies, upon what short commons they live,\nhow sparing and niggardly and miserable they are; and another while you\nmay observe the same men as distrustful and covetous withal, as if the\nplenty of the city and county, the riches of king and kingdom were not\nsufficient to preserve them from want and beggary.\n\nWhen Chersias had concluded this discourse, Cleodemus began thus: We see\nyou that are wise men possessing these outward goods after an unequal\nmanner. Good sweet sir, answered Cleobulus, the law weaver-like hath\ndistributed to every man a fitting, decent, adequate portion, and in\nyour profession your reason does what the law does here,--when you feed,\nor diet, or physic your patient, you give not the quantity he desires,\nbut what you judge to be convenient for each in his circumstances.\nArdalus inquires: Epimenides, to abstain from all other victuals, and to\ncontent himself with a little composition of his own, which the Greeks\ncall [Greek omitted] (HUNGER-RELIEVING)? This he takes into his mouth\nand chews, and eats neither dinner nor supper. This instance obliged the\nwhole company to be a little while silent, until Thales in a jesting\nway replied, that Epimenides did very wisely, for hereby he saved the\ntrouble and charge of grinding and boiling his meat, as Pittacus did. I\nmyself sojourning as Lesbos overheard my landlady, as she was very busy\nat her hand-mill, singing as she used to do her work, \"Grind mill; grind\nmill; for even Pittacus the prince of great Mitylene, grinds\" [Greek\nfootnote ommitted]. Quoth Solon: Ardalus, I wonder you have not read the\nlaw of Epimenides's frugality in Hesiod's writings, who prescribes\nhim and others this spare diet; for he was the person that gratified\nEpimenides with the seeds of this nutriment, when he directed him to\ninquire how great benefit a man might receive by mallows and asphodel\n(Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 41.) Do you believe, said Periander, that\nHesiod meant this literally; or rather that, being himself a great\nadmirer of parsimony, he hereby intended to exhort men to use mean and\nspare diet, as most healthful and pleasant? For the chewing of mallows\nis very wholesome, and the stalk of asphodel is very luscious; but this\n\"expeller of hunger and thirst\" I take to be rather physic than natural\nfood, consisting of honey and I know not what barbarian cheese, and of\nmany and costly drugs fetched from foreign parts. If to make up this\ncomposition so many ingredients were requisite, and so difficult to\ncome by and so expensive, Hesiod might have kept his breath to cool\nhis pottage, and never blessed the world with the discovery. And yet I\nadmire how your landlord, when he went to perform the great purification\nfor the Delians not long since, could overlook the monuments and\npatterns of the first aliment which the people brought into the\ntemple,--and, among other cheap fruits such as grow of themselves, the\nmallows and the asphodel; the usefulness and innocency whereof Hesiod\nseemed in his work to magnify. Moreover, quoth Anacharsis, he affirms\nboth plants to be great restoratives. You are in the right, quoth\nCleodemus; for it is evident Hesiod was no ordinary physician, who could\ndiscourse so learnedly and judiciously of diet, of the nature of wines,\nand of the virtue of waters and baths, and of women, the proper times\nfor procreation, and the site and position of infants in the womb;\ninsomuch, that (as I take it) Aesop deserves much more the name of\nHesiod's scholar and disciple than Epimenides, whose great and excellent\nwisdom the fable of the nightingale and hawk demonstrates. But I would\ngladly hear Solon's opinion in this matter; for having sojourned long at\nAthens and being familiarly acquainted with Epimenides, it is more than\nprobable he might learn of him the grounds upon which he accustomed\nhimself to so spare a diet.\n\nTo what purpose, said Solon, should I trouble him or myself to make\ninquiry in a matter so plain? For if it be a blessing next to the\ngreatest to need little victuals, then it is the greatest felicity\nto need none at all. If I may have leave to deliver my opinion, quoth\nCleodemus, I must profess myself of a different judgment, especially now\nwe sit at table; for as soon as the meat is taken away, what belongs to\nthose gods that are the patrons of friendship and hospitality has been\nremoved. As upon the removal of the earth, quoth Thales, there must\nneeds follow an universal confusion of all things, so in forbidding\nmen meat, there must needs follow the dispersion and dissolution of the\nfamily, the sacred fire, the cups, the feasts and entertainment's, which\nare the principal and most innocent diversions of mankind; and so\nall the comforts of society are at end. For to men of business some\nrecreation is necessary, and the preparation and use of victuals\nconduces much thereunto. Again, to be without victuals would tend to\nthe destruction of husbandry, for want whereof the earth would soon\nbe overgrown with weeds, and through the sloth of men overflowed with\nwaters. And together with this, all arts would fail which are supported\nand encouraged hereby; nay, more, take away hospitality and the use of\nvictuals and the worship and honor of the gods will sink and perish; the\nsun will have but small and the moon yet smaller reverence if thy afford\nmen only light and heat. And who will build an altar or offer sacrifices\nto Jupiter Pluvius, or to Ceres the patroness of husbandmen, or to\nNeptune the preserver of plants and trees? Or how can Bacchus be any\nlonger termed the donor of all good things, if men make no further use\nof the good things he gives? What shall men sacrifice? What first-fruits\nshall they offer? In short, the subversion and confusion of the greatest\nblessings attend this opinion. Promiscuously and indefatigable to pursue\nall sorts of pleasures I own to be brutish, and to avoid all with a\nsuitable aversion equally blockish, let the mind then freely enjoy such\npleasures as are agreeable to its nature and temper. But for the body,\nthere is certainly no pleasure more harmless and commendable and fitting\nthan that which springs from a plentiful table,--which is granted by all\nmen, for, placing this in the middle, men converse with one another and\nshare in the provision. As to the pleasures of the bed, men use these in\nthe dark, reputing the use thereof shameful and beastly as well as the\ntotal disuse of the pleasures of the table.\n\nCleodemus having finished this long harangue, I began to this effect.\nYou omit one thing, my friend, how they that decry food decry sleep too,\nand they that declaim against sleep declaim against dreams in the same\nbreath, and so destroy the primitive and ancient way of divination. Add\nto this, that our whole life will be of one form and fashion, and our\nsoul enclosed in a body to no purpose; many and those the principal\nparts thereof are naturally so formed and fashioned as to be organs of\nnutriment; so the tongue, the teeth, the stomach, and the liver, whereof\nnone are idle, none framed for other use, so that whosoever hath no need\nof nutriment has no need of his body; that is, in other words, no man\nhath any need of himself, for every man hath a body of his own. This I\nhave thought fit to offer in vindication of our bellies; if Solon or any\nother has anything to object to what I have said, I am willing to hear\nhim.\n\nYea, doubtless, replies Solon, or we may be reputed more injudicious\nthan the Egyptians. For when any person dies among them, they open\nhim and show him so dissected to the sun; his guts they throw into the\nriver, to the remaining parts they allow a decent burial, for they think\nthe body now pure and clean; and to speak truly they are the foulest\nparts of the body, and like that lower hell crammed with dead carcasses\nand at the same time flowing with offensive rivers, such as flame\nwith fire and are disturbed with tempests. No live creature feeds upon\nanother living creature, but we first take away their lives, and in\nthat action we do them great wrong. Now the very plants have life in\nthem,--that is clear and manifest, for we perceive they grow and spread.\nBut to abstain from eating flesh (as they say Orpheus of old did) is\nmore a pretence than a real avoiding of an injury proceeding from the\njust use of meat. One way there is, and but one way, whereby a man may\navoid offence, namely by being contented with his own, not coveting what\nbelongs to his neighbor. But if a man's circumstances be such and so\nhard that he cannot subsist without wronging another man, the fault\nis God's, not his. The case being such with some persons, I would\nfain learn if it be not advisable to destroy, at the same time with\ninjustice, these instruments of injustice, the belly, stomach, and\nliver, which have no sense of justice or appetite to honesty, and\ntherefore may be fitly compared to your cook's implements, his knives\nand his caldrons, or to a baker's chimney and bins and kneading-tubs.\nVerily one may observe the souls of some men confined to their bodies,\nas to a house of correction, barely to do the drudgery and to serve the\nnecessities thereof. It was our own case but even now. While we minded\nour meat and our bellies, we had neither eyes to see nor ears to\nhear; but now the table is taken away, we are free to discourse among\nourselves and to enjoy one another; and now our bellies are full, we\nhave nothing else to do or care for. And if this condition and state\nwherein we at present are would last our whole life, we having no wants\nto fear nor riches to covet (for a desire of superfluities attends a\ndesire of necessaries), would not our lives be much more comfortable and\nlife itself much more desirable?\n\nYea, but Cleodemus stiffly maintains the necessity of eating and\ndrinking, else we shall need tables and cups, and shall not be able to\noffer sacrifice to Ceres and Proserpina. By a parity of reason there\nis a necessity there should be contentions and wars, that men may have\nbulwarks and citadels and fortifications by land, fleets and navies\nabroad at sea, and that having slain hundreds, we may offer Hecatombs\nafter the Messenian manner. By this reason we shall find men grudging\ntheir own health, for (they will say) there will be no need of down\nor feather beds unless they are sick; and so those healing gods,\nand particularly Esculapius, will be vast sufferers, for they will\ninfallibly lose so many fat and rich sacrifices yearly. Nay, the art of\nchirurgery will perish, and all those ingenious instruments that have\nbeen invented for the cure of man will lie by useless and insignificant.\nAnd what great difference is there between this and that? For meat is\na medicine against hunger, and such as use a constant diet are said\nto cure themselves,--I mean such as use meat not for wantonness but of\nnecessity. For it is plain, the prejudices we receive by feeding far\nsurmount the pleasures. And the enjoyment of eating fills a very small\nplace in our bodies and very little time. But why should I trouble you\nor myself with a catalogue of the many vexations which attend that man\nwho is necessitated to provide for a family, and the many difficulties\nwhich distract him in his undertaking? For my part, I verily believe\nHomer had an eye to this very thing, when, to prove the immortality of\nthe gods, he made use of this very argument, that they were such because\nthey used no victuals;\n\n     For not the bread of man their life sustains,\n     Nor wine's inflaming juice supplies their veins;\n     (\"Iliad,\" v. 341.)\n\nintimating meat to be the cause of death as well as the means of\nsustaining and supporting life. From hence proceed divers fatal\ndistempers caused much more by fulness than by fasting; and to digest\nwhat we have eaten proves frequently a harder matter than to provide and\nprocure what we eat. And when we solicitously inquire beforehand what we\nshould do or how we should employ ourselves if we had not such care and\nbusiness to take up our time, this is as if Danaus's daughters should\ntrouble their heads to know what they should do if they had no sieves to\nfill with water. We drudge and toil for necessaries, for want of better\nand nobler occupation. As slaves then who have gained their freedom do\nnow and then those drudgeries and discharge those servile employments\nand offices for their own benefit which they undertook heretofore\nfor their masters' advantage, so the mind of man, which at present is\nenslaved to the body and the service thereof, when once it becomes\nfree from this slavery, will take care of itself, and spend its time in\ncontemplation of truth without distraction or disturbance. Such were our\ndiscourses upon this head, O Nicarchus.\n\nAnd before Solon had fully finished, in came Gorgias, Periander's\nbrother, who was just returned from Taenarum, whither he had been sent\nby the advice of the oracle to sacrifice to Neptune and to conduct a\ndeputation. Upon his entrance we welcomed him home; and Periander having\namong the rest saluted him, Gorgias sat by him upon a bed, and privately\nwhispered something to his brother which we could not hear. Periander\nby his various gestures and motions discovered different affections;\nsometimes he seemed sad and melancholic, by and by disturbed and angry;\nfrequently he looked as doubtful and distrustful men use to do; awhile\nafter he lifts up his eyes, as is usual with men in a maze. At last\nrecovering himself, saith he, I have a mind to impart to you the\ncontents of this embassy; but I scarce dare do it, remembering Thales's\naphorism, how things impossible or incredible are to be concealed and\nonly things credible and probable are to be related. Bias answered, I\ncrave leave to explain Thales's saying, We may distrust enemies, even\nthough they speak things credible, and trust friends, even though they\nrelate things incredible; and I suppose by enemies he meant vicious men\nand foolish, and by friends, wise and good men. Then, brother Gorgias,\nquoth Periander, I pray relate the whole story particularly.\n\nGorgias in obedience to his brother's command began his story thus:--\n\nWhen we had fasted now for three days and offered sacrifice upon each of\nthose days, we were all resolved to sit up the third night and spend it\nin pastime and dancing. The moon shone very bright upon the water,\nand the sea was exceeding calm and still; this we saw, for we sported\nourselves upon the shore. Being thus taken up, all of a sudden we espied\na wonderful spectacle off at sea, making with incredible expedition to\nthe adjoining promontory. The violence of the motion made the sea foam\nagain, and the noise was so loud, that the whole company forsook their\nsport and ran together toward the place, admiring what the matter should\nbe. Before we could make a full discovery of the whole, the motion\nwas so rapid, we perceived divers dolphins, some swimming in a ring or\ncircle, others hastening amain to that part of the shore which was most\nshallow, and others following after and (as it were) bringing up the\nrear. In the middle there was a certain heap which we could perceive\nabove the water; but we could not distinctly apprehend what it was, till\ndrawing near the shore we saw all the dolphins flocking together, and\nhaving made near the land they safely surrendered their charge, and left\nout of danger a man breathing and shaking himself. They returned to the\npromontory, and there seemed to rejoice more than before for this their\nfortunate undertaking. Divers in the company were affrighted and ran\naway; myself and a few more took courage, and went on to see and\nsatisfy ourselves what this unusual matter might be; there we found and\ninstantly knew our old acquaintance Arion the musician, who told us his\nname. He wore that very garment he used when he strove for mastery. We\nbrought him into our tent and found he had received no damage in his\npassage, save only a little lassitude by the violence of the motion. He\ntold us the whole story of his adventure,--a story incredible to all but\nsuch as saw it with their eyes. He told us how, when he had determined\nto leave Italy, being hastened away by Periander's letters, he went\naboard a Corinthian merchantman then in port and ready to sail; being\noff at sea with the winds favorable, he observed the seamen bent to\nruin him, and the master of the vessel told him as much, and that they\npurposed to execute their design upon him that very night. In this\ndistress, the poor man (as if inspired by his good Genius) girds about\nhim his heretofore victorious, now his mourning cloak, with a brave\nresolution to compose and sing his own epitaph, as the swans when\nthey apprehend the approaches of death are reported to do. Being thus\nhabited, he told the seamen he was minded to commit the protection of\nhimself and his fellow-passengers to the providence of the gods in a\nPythian song; then standing upon the poop near the side of the vessel,\nand having invoked the help and assistance of all the sea gods, he\nstrikes up briskly and sings to his harp. Before he had half finished\nhis carol, the sun set, and he could discern Peloponnesus before him.\nThe seamen thought it tedious to tarry for the night, wherefore they\nresolved to murder him immediately, to which purpose they unsheathed\ntheir swords. Seeing this, and observing the steersman covering his\nface, he leaped into the sea as far as he could; but before his body\nsunk he found himself supported by dolphins. At first he was surprised\nwith care and trouble; but by and by, finding himself marching forward\nwith much ease and security, and observing a whole shoal of dolphins\nflocking about him and joyfully contending which should appear most\nforward and serviceable in his preservation, and discerning the vessel\nat a considerable distance behind, he apprehended the nimbleness of\nhis porters; then, and not till then, his fears forsook him, and he\nprofessed he was neither so fearful of death nor desirous of life as\nhe was full of ambitious desire, that he might show to all men that he\nstood in the grace and favor of the gods, and that he might himself have\na firm belief in them. In his passage, as he lifted up his eyes toward\nheaven, and beheld the stars glittering and twinkling and the moon full\nand glorious, and the sea calm all about her as she seemed to rise out\nof it, and yielding him (as it were) a beaten track; he declared,\nhe thought God's justice had more eyes than one, and that with these\ninnumerable eyes the gods beheld what was acted here below both by\nsea and land. With such contemplations he performed his voyage less\nanxiously, which much abated the tediousness thereof and was a comfort\nand refreshment to him in his solitude and danger. At last, arriving\nnear the promontory which was both steep and high, and fearing danger\nin a straight course and direct line, they unanimously veered about, and\nmaking to shore with a little compass for security they delivered\nArion to us in safety, so that he plainly perceived and with thanks\nacknowledged a Providence.\n\nWhen Arion had finished this narrative of his escape, I asked him (quoth\nGorgias) whither the ship was bound; he told me for Corinth, but it\nwould not be there very suddenly, for when he leaped out of the ship and\nwas carried (as he conceived) about five hundred furlongs, he perceived\na calm, which must needs much retard their arrival who were aboard.\nGorgias added that, having learned the names of the pilot and master and\nthe colors of the ship, he immediately despatched out ships and soldier\nto examine all the ports, all this while keeping Arion concealed, lest\nthe criminals should upon notice of His deliverance escape the pursuit\nof justice. This action happened very luckily; for as soon as he arrived\nat Corinth, news was brought him that the same ship was in port, and\nthat his party had seized it and secured all the men, merchants and\nothers. Whereupon Periander commanded Gorgias's discretion and zeal,\ndesiring him to proceed and lose no time, but immediately to clap them\nin close prison, and to suffer none to come at them to give the least\nnotice of Arion's miraculous escape.\n\nGentlemen, quoth Aesop, I remember you derided my dialogue of the daws\nand rooks; and now you can admire and believe as improbable a story of\ndolphins. You are mightily out, said I, for this is no novel story which\nwe believe, but it is recorded in the annals of Ino and Athamas above\na thousand years ago. These passages are supernatural, quoth Solon and\nmuch above our reason; what befell Hesiod is of a lower kind, and more\nproper for our discourse, and if you have not heard of it before, it is\nworth your hearing.\n\nHesiod once sojourned at the same house in Locris with a certain\nMilesian. In this his sojourning time it happened the gentleman's\ndaughter was got with child by the Milesian which being discovered, the\nwhole family concluded Hesiod, if not guilty, must be privy to the\nfact. His innocence was but a weak fence against their jealousy and\naspersions; and therefore, rashly censuring him guilty, the brothers of\nthe woman waylaid him in his return home, and slew him and his companion\nTroilus near the shrine of Nemean Jove in Locris. Their carcasses they\nthrew into the sea; that of Troilus was carried into the river Daphnus,\nand rested upon a certain rock compassed with waters, just above the\nsurface of the sea, which rock bears his name to this day. The body of\nHesiod was no sooner fallen upon the surface of the water, but a company\nof dolphins received it, and conveyed it to Rhium and Molyeria. It\nhappened the Locrians were assembled at Rhium that day to feast and make\nmerry according to the custom which continues still among them. As soon\nas they perceived a carcass floating or rather swimming towards them,\nthey hastened, not without admiration, to see what it was; and knowing\nthe body to be Hesiod's, they instantly resolved to find out the\nmurderers. It proved an easy discovery. After conviction they threw them\nheadlong alive into the sea, and ordered their houses to be demolished\nto the very foundations. The body they buried in the grove of the temple\nof Jove, that no foreigner might find it out; the reason of this act\nwas that the Orchomenians had searched far and near for it at the\ninstigation of the oracle, who promised them the greatest felicity if\nthey could get the bones of Hesiod and bury them in their city. Now if\ndolphins are so favorable to dead men, it is very probable they have\na strong affection for the living, especially for such as delight in\nmusic, whether vocal or instrumental. And this we know undoubtedly, that\nthese creatures delight infinitely in music; they love it, and if any\nman sings or plays, they will quietly come by the side of the ship, and\nlisten till the music is ended. When children bathe in the water and\nsport themselves, you shall have a parcel of them flock together and\nsport and swim by them; and they may do it the more securely, since it\nis a breach of the law of Nature to hurt them. You never heard of\nany man that fishes for them purposely or hurts them wilfully, unless\nfalling into the nets they spoil the sport, and so, like bad children,\nare corrected for their misdemeanors. I very well remember the Lesbians\ntold me how a maid of their town was preserved from drowning by them.\n\nIt was a very true story, quoth Pittacus, and there are divers still\nalive who will attest it, if need be. The builders or founders of Lesbos\nwere commanded by the oracle to sail till they came to a haven called\nMesogaeum, there they should sacrifice a bull to Neptune, and for the\nhonor of Amphitrite and the sea-nymphs they should offer a virgin. The\nprincipal persons in this colony were seven in number; the eighth was\none Echelaus by name, and appointed head of the rest by the oracle\nhimself; and he was a bachelor. A daughter of one of these seven was to\nbe sacrificed, but who it should be was to be decided by lot, and the\nlot fell upon Smintheus's sister. Her they dressed most richly, and so\napparelled they conveyed her in abundance of state to the water-side,\nand having composed a prayer for her, they were now ready to throw her\noverboard. There was in the company a certain ingenuous young gentleman\nwhose name was Enalus; he was desperately in love with this young lady,\nand his love prompted him to endeavor all he could for her preservation,\nor at least to perish in the attempt. In the very moment she was to be\ncast away, he clasps her in his arms and throws himself and her together\ninto the sea. Shortly after there was a flying report they were both\nconveyed safe to land. A while after Enalus was seen at Lesbos, who\ngave out they were preserved by dolphins. I could tell you stories more\nincredible than these, such as would amuse some and please others; but\nit is impossible to command men's faith. The sea was so tempestuous and\nrough, the people were afraid to come too near the waters, when Enalus\narrived. A number of polypuses followed him even to Neptune's temple,\nthe biggest and strongest of which carried a great stone. This Enalus\ndedicated, and this stone is therefore called Enalus to this day. To be\nshort and to speak all in a few words,--he that knows how to distinguish\nbetween the impossible and the unusual, to make a difference between\nthe unlikely and the absurd, to be neither too credulous nor too\ndistrustful,--he hath learned your lesson, Do not overdo. ([Greek\nomitted], NE QUID NIMIS.)\n\nAnacharsis after all this discourse spake to this purpose: Since Thales\nhas asserted the being of a soul in all the principal and most noble\nparts of the universe, it is no wonder that the most commendable acts\nare governed by an overruling Power; for, as the body is the organ of\nthe soul, so the soul is an instrument in the hand of God. Now as the\nbody has many motions of its own proceeding from itself, but the best\nand most from the soul, so the soul acts some things by its own power,\nbut in most things it is subordinate to the will and power of God, whose\nglorious instrument it is. To me it seems highly unreasonable--and\nI should be but too apt to censure the wisdom of the gods, if I were\nconvinced--that they use fire, and water, and wind, and clouds, and\nrain for the preservation and welfare of some and for the detriment and\ndestruction of others, while at the same time they make no use of living\ncreatures that are doubtless more serviceable to their ends than bows\nare to the Scythians or harps or pipes to the Greeks.\n\nChersias the poet broke off this discourse, and told the company of\ndivers that were miraculously preserved to his certain knowledge, and\nmore particularly of Cypselus, Periander's father, who being newly born,\nhis adversary sent a party of bloody fellows to murder him. They found\nthe child in his nurse's arms, and seeing him smile innocently upon\nthem, they had not the heart to hurt him, and so departed; but presently\nrecalling themselves and considering the peremptoriness of their orders,\nthey returned and searched for him, but could not find him, for his\nmother had hid him very carefully in a chest. (Called [Greek omitted] in\nGreek, whence the child was named Cypelus.(G.)) When he came to years\nof discretion, and understood the greatness of his former danger and\ndeliverance, he consecrated a temple at Delphi to Apollo, by whose care\nhe conceived himself preserved from crying in that critical time, and\nby his cries from betraying his own life. Pittacus, addressing his\ndiscourse to Periander, said: It is well done of Chersias to make\nmention of that shrine, for this brings to my mind a question I several\ntimes purposed to ask you but still forgot, namely,--To what intent all\nthose frogs were carved upon the palm-tree before the door, and how\nthey affect either the deity or the dedicator? Periander remitted him to\nChersias for answer, as a person better versed in these matters for he\nwas present when Cypselus consecrated the shrine. But Chersias smiling\nwould not satisfy them, until they resolved him the meaning of these\naphorisms; \"Do not overdo,\" \"Know thyself,\" but particularly and\nprincipally this,--which had scared divers from wedlock and others\nfrom suretyship and others for speaking at all,--\"promise, and you are\nruined.\" What need we to explain to you these, when you yourself have\nso mightily magnified Aesop's comment upon each of them. Aesop replied:\nWhen Chersias is disposed to jest with me upon these subjects, and to\njest seriously, he is pleased to father such sayings and sentences upon\nHomer, who, bringing in Hector furiously flying upon others, yet\nat another time represents him as flying from Ajax son of Telamon,\n(\"Iliad,\" xi. 542.)--an argument that Hector knew himself. And Homer\nmade Ulysses use the saying \"Do not overdo,\" when he besought his friend\nDiomedes not to commend him, too much nor yet to censure him too\nmuch. And for suretyship he exposes it as a matter unsafe, nay highly\ndangerous, declaring that to be bound for idle and wicked men is full\nof hazard. (\"Iliad,\" x. 249; \"Odyssey,\" viii. 351.) To confirm this,\nChersias reported how Jupiter had thrown Ate headlong out of heaven,\nbecause she was by when he made the promise about the birth of Hercules\nwhereby he was circumvented.\n\nHere Solon broke in: I advise, that we now give ear to Homer,--\n\n     But now the night extends her awful shade:\n     The Goddess parts you: be the night obeyed.\n     (\"Iliad,\" vii. 282.)\n\nIf it please the company then, let us sacrifice to the Muses, to\nNeptune, and to Amphitrite, and so bid each adieu for this night.\n\nThis was the conclusion of that meeting, my dear Nicarchus.\n\n\n\n\nEND OF THIRTEEN----------\n\n\nHOW A YOUNG MAN OUGHT TO HEAR POEMS.\n\nThough it may be allowed to be a question fit for the determination of\nthose concerning whom Cato said, Their palates are more sensitive than\ntheir minds, whether that saying of Philoxenus the poet be true or no,\nThe most savory flesh is that which is no flesh, and fish that is no\nfish. Yet this to me, Marcus Sedatus, is out of question, that those\nprecepts of philosophy which seem not to be delivered with a designed\ngravity, such as becomes philosophers, take most with persons that are\nvery young, and meet with a more ready acceptance and compliance from\nthem. Whence it is that they do not only read through Aesop's fables and\nthe fictions of poets and the Abaris of Heraclides and Ariston's Lyco;\nbut also such doctrines as relate to the souls of men, if something\nfabulous be mixed with them, with an excess of pleasure that borders on\nenthusiasm. Wherefore we are not only to govern their appetites in the\ndelights of eating and drinking, but also (and much more) to inure them\nto a like temperance in reading and hearing, that, while they make use\nof enjoyment as a sauce, they may pursue that which is wholesome and\nprofitable in those things which they read. For neither can a city be\nsecure if but one gate be left open to receive the enemy, though all the\nrest be shut; nor a young man safe, though he be sufficiently fortified\nagainst the assaults of all other pleasures, whilst he is without any\nguard against those of the ear. Yea, the nearer the commerce is betwixt\nthe delights of that sense and those of the mind and reason, by so much\nthe more, when he lies open on that side, is he apt to be debauched and\ncorrupted thereby. Seeing therefore we cannot (and perhaps would not if\nwe could) debar young men of the size of my Soclarus and thy Cleander\naltogether from the reading of poets, yet let us keep the stricter guard\nupon them, as those who need a guide to direct them in their reading\nmore than on their journeys. Upon which consideration, I find myself\ndisposed to send thee at present in writing that discourse concerning\nPoetry which I had lately an occasion to deliver by word of mouth; that,\nwhen thou hast read it over thyself, thou mayst also make such use of\nit, if thou judgest it may be serviceable to that purpose, as those\nwhich are engaged to drink hard do of amulets (or preservatives against\ndrunkenness),--that is, that thou mayst communicate it to Cleander, to\nprepossess him therewith; seeing he is naturally endowed with a brisk,\npiercing, and daring wit, and therefore more prone to be inveigled by\nthat sort of study.\n\nThey say of the fish called polypus that\n\n     His head in one respect is very good,\n     But in another very naughty food;\n\nbecause, though it be very luscious to eat, yet it is thought to disturb\nthe fancy with frightful and confused dreams. And the like observation\nmay be made concerning poetry, that it affords sweet and withal\nwholesome nourishment to the minds of young men, but yet it contains\nlikewise no less matter of disturbance and emotion to them that want a\nright conduct in the study thereof. For of it also, as well as of Egypt,\nmay it be said that (to those who will use it)\n\n     Its over-fertile and luxuriant field\n     Medicines and poisons intermixt doth yield;\n\nfor therein\n\n     Love with soft passions and rich language drest\n     Oft steals the heart out of th' ingenuous breast.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" iv. 230; \"Iliad,\" xiv. 216.)\n\nAnd indeed such only are endangered thereby, for the charms of that\nart ordinarily affect not those that are downright sots and naturally\nincapable of learning. Wherefore, when Simonides was asked why of all\nmen he could not deceive the Thessalians, his answer was, Because\nthey are not so well bred as to be capable of being cajoled by me. And\nGorgias used to call tragical poems cheats, wherein he that did cheat\nwas juster than he that did not cheat, and he that was cheated was wiser\nthan he that was not cheated.\n\nIt deserves therefore our consideration, whether we shall put young men\ninto Epicurus's boat,--wherein, having their ears stopped with wax, as\nthose of the men of Ithaca were, they shall be obliged to sail by and\nnot so much as touch at poetry,--or rather keep a guard on them, so\nas to oblige their judgments by principles of right reason to use it\naright, and preserve them from being seduced to their hurt by that which\naffords them so much delight. For neither did Lycurgus, the valiant\nson of Dryas (as Homer calls him) (\"Iliad,\" vi. 130.) act like a man of\nsound reason in the course which he took to reform his people that were\nmuch inclined to drunkenness, by travelling up and down to destroy all\nthe vines in the country; whereas he should have ordered that every vine\nshould have a well of water near it, that (as Plato saith) the drunken\ndeity might be reduced to temperance by a sober one. For water mixed\nwith wine takes away the hurtful spirits, while it leaves the useful\nones in it. Neither should we cut down or destroy the Muses' vine,\npoetry; but where we perceive it luxuriates and grows wild through an\nungoverned appetite of applause, there ought we to prune away or keep\nunder the fabulous and theatrical branches thereof; and where we find\nany of the Graces linked to any of the Muses,--that is, where the\nlusciousness and tempting charms of language are not altogether barren\nand unprofitable,--there let us make use of philosophy to incorporate\nwith it.\n\nFor as, where the mandrake grows near the vine and so communicates\nsomething of its force thereto, the wine that is made of its grapes\nmakes the sleep of those that drink it more refreshing; so doth the\ntempering poetry with the principles of philosophy and allaying their\nroughness with its fictions render the study of them more easy and the\nrelish of them more grateful to young learners. Wherefore those that\nwould give their minds to philosophical studies are not obliged to avoid\npoetry altogether, but rather to introduce themselves to philosophy by\npoems, accustoming themselves to search for and embrace that which may\nprofit in that which pleaseth them, and rejecting and discarding that\nwherein they find nothing of this nature. For this discrimination is the\nfirst step to learning; and when this is attained, then, according to\nwhat Sophocles saith,--\n\n     To have begun well what we do intend\n     Gives hope and prospect of as good an end.\n\nLet us therefore in the first place possess those whom we initiate in\nthe study of poetry with this notion (as one which they ought always to\nhave at hand), that\n\n     'Tis frequently the poet's guise\n     To intermingle truth with lies;--\n\nwhich they do sometimes with and sometimes against their wills. They do\nit with their wills, because they find strict truth too rigid to comply\nwith that sweetness and gracefulness of expression, which most are taken\nwith, so readily as fiction doth. For real truth, though it disgust\nnever so much, must be told as it is, without alteration; but that which\nis feigned in a discourse can easily yield and shift its garb from the\ndistasteful to that which is more pleasing. And indeed, neither the\nmeasures nor the tropes nor the grandeur of words nor the aptness of\nmetaphors nor the harmony of the composition gives such a degree of\nelegance and gracefulness to a poem as a well-ordered and artificial\nfiction doth. But as in pictures the colors are more delightful to the\neye than the lines because those give them a nearer resemblance to the\npersons they were made for, and render them the more apt to deceive the\nbeholder; so in poems we are more apt to be smitten and fall in love\nwith a probable fiction than with the greatest accuracy that can be\nobserved in measures and phrases, where there is nothing fabulous or\nfictitious joined with it. Wherefore Socrates, being induced by some\ndreams to attempt something in poetry, and finding himself unapt, by\nreason that he had all his lifetime been the champion of severe truth,\nto hammer out of his own invention a likely fiction, made choice of\nAesop's fables to turn into verse; as judging nothing to be true poetry\nthat had in it nothing of falsehood. For though we have known some\nsacrifices performed without pipes and dances, yet we own no poetry\nwhich is utterly destitute of fable and fiction. Whence the verses of\nEmpedocles and Parmenides, the Theriaca of Nicander, and the sentences\nof Theognis, are rather to be accounted speeches than poems, which, that\nthey might not walk contemptibly on foot, have borrowed from poetry the\nchariot of verse, to convey them the more creditably through the world.\nWhensoever therefore anything is spoken in poems by any noted and\neminently famous man, concerning gods or daemons or virtue, that is\nabsurd or harsh, he that takes such sayings for truths is thereby misled\nin his apprehension and corrupted with an erroneous opinion. But he that\nconstantly keeps in his mind and maintains as his principle that the\nwitchcraft of poetry consists in fiction, he that can at all turns\naccost it in this language,--\n\n     Riddle of art! like which no sphinx beguiles;\n     Whose face on one side frowns while th' other smiles!\n     Why cheat'st thou, with pretence to make us wise,\n     And bid'st sage precepts in a fool's disguise?--\n\nsuch a one, I say, will take no harm by it, nor admit from it any absurd\nthing into his belief. But when he meets in poetry with expressions of\nNeptune's rending the earth to pieces and dicovering infernal regions,\n(\"See Iliad,\" xx. 57.) he will be able to check his fears of the reality\nof any such accident; and he will blame himself for his anger against\nApollo for the chief commander of the Greeks,--\n\n     Whom at a banquet, whiles he sings his praise\n     And speaks him fair, yet treacherously he slays.\n     (\"From Aeschylus\" The whole passage is quoted in Plato's\n     \"Republic,\" end of book II. (G.).)\n\nYea, he will repress his tears for Achilles and Agamemnon, while they\nare resented as mourning after their death, and stretching forth their\nlimber and feeble hands to express their desire to live again. And if\nat any time the charms of poetry transport him into any disquieting\npassions, he will quickly say to himself, as Homer very elegantly\n(considering the propension of that sex to listen after fables) says in\nhis Necyia, or relation of the state of the dead,--\n\n     But from the dark dominions speed thy way,\n     And climb the steep ascent to upper day;\n     To thy chaste bride the wondrous story tell,\n     The woes, the horrors, and the laws of hell.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xi. 223.)\n\n\n\nSuch things as I have touched upon are those which the poets willingly\nfeign. But more there are which they do not feign, but believing\nthemselves as their own proper judgments, they put fictitious colors\nupon them to ingratiate them to us. As when Homer says of Jupiter,--\n\n     Jove lifts the golden balances, that show\n     The faces of mortal men, and things below.\n     Here each contending hero's lot he tries,\n     And weighs with equal hand their destinies\n     Low sinks the scale surcharged with Hector's fate;\n     Heavy with death it sinks, and hell receives the weight.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxii. 210.)\n\nTo this fable Aeschylus hath accommodated a whole tragedy which he\ncalls Psychostasia, wherein he introduceth Thetis and Aurora standing\nby Jupiter's balances, and deprecating each of them the death of her\nson engaged in a duel. Now there is no man but sees that this fable is\na creature of the poet's fancy, designed to delight or scare the reader.\nBut this other passage,--\n\n     Great Jove is made the treasurer of wars;\n     (Ibid. iv. 84.)\n\nand this other also,--\n\n     When a god means a noble house to raze,\n     He frames one rather than he'll want a cause:\n     (From the \"Niobe\" of Aeschylus, Frag. 151.)\n\nthese passages, I say, express their judgment and belief who thereby\ndiscover and suggest to us the ignorant or mistaken apprehensions they\nhad of the Deities. Moreover, almost every one knows nowadays, that the\nportentous fancies and contrivances of stories concerning the state of\nthe dead are accommodated to popular apprehensions,--that the spectres\nand phantasms of burning rivers and horrid regions and terrible tortures\nexpressed by frightful names are all mixed with fable and fiction, as\npoison with food; and that neither Homer nor Pindar nor Sophocles ever\nbelieved themselves when they wrote at this rate:--\n\n     There endless floods of shady darkness stream\n     From the vast caves, where mother Night doth teem;\n\nand,\n\n     There ghosts o'er the vast ocean's waves did glide,\n     By the Leucadian promontory's side;\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xxiv. 11.)\n\nand,\n\n     There from th' unfathomed gulf th' infernal lake\n     Through narrow straits recurring tides doth make.\n\nAnd yet, as many of them as deplore death as a lamentable thing, or the\nwant of burial after death as a calamitous condition, are wont to break\nout into expressions of this nature:--\n\n     O pass not by, my friend; nor leave me here\n     Without a grave, and on that grave a tear;\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xi. 72.)\n\nand,\n\n     Then to the ghosts the mournful soul did fly,\n     Sore grieved in midst of youth and strength to die;\n     (\"Iliad,\" xvi. 856.)\n\nand again,\n\n     'Tis sweet to see the light.  O spare me then,\n     Till I arrive at th' usual age of men:\n     Nor force my unfledged soul from hence, to know\n     The doleful state of dismal shades below.\n     (Euripides, \"Iphigenia at Aulus,\" 1218.)\n\nThese, I say, are the speeches of men persuaded of these things, as\nbeing possessed by erroneous opinions; and therefore they touch us the\nmore nearly and torment us inwardly, because we ourselves are full of\nthe same impotent passion from which they were uttered. To fortify\nus therefore against expressions of this nature, let this principle\ncontinually ring in our ears, that poetry is not at all solicitous to\nkeep to the strict measure of truth. And indeed, as to what that truth\nin these matters is, even those men themselves who make it their only\nstudy to learn and search it out confess that they can hardly discover\nany certain footsteps to guide them in that inquiry. Let us therefore\nhave these verses of Empedocles, in this case, at hand:--\n\n     No sight of man's so clear, no ear so quick,\n     No mind so piercing, that's not here to seek;\n\nas also those of Xenophanes:--\n\n     The truth about the gods and ghosts, no man\n     E'er was or shall be that determine can;\n\nand lastly, that passage concerning Socrates, in Plato, where he by the\nsolemnity of an oath disclaims all knowledge of those things. For those\nwho perceive that the searching into such matters makes the heads of\nphilosophers themselves giddy cannot but be the less inclined to regard\nwhat poets say concerning them.\n\nAnd we shall fix our young men more if, when we enter him in the poets,\nwe first describe poetry to him and tell him that it is an imitating\nart and is in many respects like unto painting; not only acquainting\nhim with that common saying, that poetry is vocal painting and painting\nsilent poetry, but showing him, moreover, that when we see a lizard or\nan ape or the face of a Thersites in a picture, we are surprised with\npleasure and wonder at it, not because of any beauty in the things, but\nfor the likeness of the draught. For it is repugnant to the nature of\nthat which is itself foul to be at the same time fair; and therefore it\nis the imitation--be the thing imitated beautiful or ugly--that, in case\nit do express it to the life, is commanded; and on the contrary, if the\nimitation make a foul thing to appear fair, it is dispraised because\nit observes not decency and likeness. Now some painters there are that\npaint uncomely actions; as Timotheus drew Medea killing her children;\nTheon, Orestes murdering his mother; and Parrhasius, Ulysses\ncounterfeiting madness; yea, Chaerephanes expressed in picture the\nunchaste converse of women with men. Now in such cases a young man is\nto be familiarly acquainted with this notion, that, when men praise such\npictures, they praise not the actions represented but only the painter's\nart which doth so lively express what was designed in them. Wherefore,\nin like manner, seeing poetry many times describes by imitation foul\nactions and unseemly passions and manners, the young student must not in\nsuch descriptions (although performed never so cleverly and commendably)\nbelieve all that is said as true or embrace it as good, but give its\ndue commendation so far only as it suits the subject treated of. For as,\nwhen we hear the grunting of hogs and the shrieking of pulleys and the\nrustling of wind and the roaring of seas, we are, it may be, disturbed\nand displeased, and yet when we hear any one imitating these or the like\nnoises handsomely (as Parmenio did that of an hog, and Theodorus that\nof a pulley), we are well pleased; and as we avoid (as an unpleasing\nspectacle) the sight of sick persons and of a man full of ulcers, and\nyet are delighted to be spectators of the Philoctetes of Aristophon and\nthe Jocasta of Silanion, wherein such wasting and dying persons are well\nacted; so must the young scholar, when he reads in a poem of Thersites\nthe buffoon or Sisyphus the whoremaster or Batrachus the bawd speaking\nor doing anything, so praise the artificial managery of the poet,\nadapting the expressions to the persons, as withal to look on the\ndiscourses and actions so expressed as odious and abominable. For the\ngoodness of things themselves differs much from the goodness of the\nimitation of them; the goodness of the latter consisting only in\npropriety and aptness to represent the former. Whence to foul acts foul\nexpressions are most suitable and proper. As the shoes of Demonides the\ncripple (which, when he had lost them, he wished might suit the feet of\nhim that stole them) were but poor shoes, but yet fit for him; so we may\nsay of such expressions as these:--\n\n     If t'is necessary an unjust act to do,\n     It is best to do it for a throne;\n     (Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 524.)\n\n     Get the repute of Just,\n     And in it do all things whence gain may come;\n\n     A talent dowry!  Could I\n     Sleep, or live, if thee I should neglect?\n     And should I not in hell tormented be,\n     Could I be guilty of such sacrilege?\n     (From Menander.)\n\nThese, it is true, are wicked as well as false speeches, but yet are\ndecent enough in the mouth of an Eteocles, an Ixion, and a griping\nusurer. If therefore we mind our children that the poets write not such\nthings as praising and approving them, but do really account them base\nand vicious and therefore accommodate such speeches to base and vicious\npersons, they will never be damnified by them from the esteem they have\nof the poets in whom they meet with them. But, on the contrary, the\nsuspicions insinuated into them of the persons will render the words\nand actions ascribed to them suspected for evil, because proceeding from\nsuch evil men. And of this nature is Homer's representation of Paris,\nwhen he describes him running out of the battle into Helen's bed. For in\nthat he attributes no such indecent act to any other, but only to that\nincontinent and adulterous person, he evidently declares that he intends\nthat relation to import a disgrace and reproach to such intemperance.\n\nIn such passages therefore we are carefully to observe whether or not\nthe poet himself do anywhere give any intimation that he dislikes the\nthings he makes such persons say; which, in the prologue to his Thais\nMenander does, in these words:--\n\n     Therefore, my Muse, describe me now a whore,\n     Fair, bold, and furnished with a nimble tongue;\n     One that ne'er scruples to do lovers wrong;\n     That always craves, and denied shuts her door;\n     That truly loves no man, yet, for her ends,\n     Affection true to every man pretends.\n\nBut Homer of all the poets does it best. For he doth beforehand, as it\nwere, bespeak dislike of the evil things and approbation of the good\nthings he utters. Of the latter take these instances:--\n\n     He readily did the occasion take,\n     And sweet and comfortable words he spake;\n     (\"Odyssey,\" vi. 148.)\n\n     By him he stood, and with soft speeches quelled\n     The wrath which in his heated bosom swelled.\n     (\"Iliad,\" ii. 180.)\n\nAnd for the former, he so performs it as in a manner solemnly to forbid\nus to use or heed such speeches as those he mentions, as being foolish\nand wicked. For example, being to tell us how uncivilly Agamemnon\ntreated the priest, he premises these words of his own,--\n\n     Not so Atrides: he with kingly pride\n     Repulsed the sacred sire, and thus replied;\n     (Ibid. i. 24.)\n\nintimating the insolency and unbecomingness of his answer. And when he\nattributes this passionate speech to Achilles,--\n\n     O monster, mix'd of insolence and fear,\n     Thou dog in forehead, and in heart a deer!\n     (Ibid. i. 225.)\n\nhe accompanies it with this censure,--\n\n     Nor yet the rage his boiling breast forsook,\n     Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke;\n     (Ibid. i. 223.)\n\nfor it was unlikely that speaking in such anger he should observe any\nrules of decency.\n\nAnd he passeth like censures on actions. As on Achilles's foul usage of\nHector's carcass,--\n\n     Gloomy he said, and (horrible to view)\n     Before the bier the bleeding Hector threw.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxiii. 24.)\n\nAnd in like manner he doth very decently shut up relations of things\nsaid or done, by adding some sentence wherein he declares his judgment\nof them. As when he personates some of the gods saying, on the occasion\nof the adultery of Mars and Venus discovered by Vulcan's artifice,--\n\n     See the swift god o'ertaken by the lame!\n     Thus ill acts prosper not, but end in shame.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" viii. 329.)\n\nAnd thus concerning Hector's insolent boasting he says,--\n\n     With such big words his mind proud Hector eased,\n     But venerable Juno he displeased.\n     (\"Iliad,\" viii. 198.)\n\nAnd when he speaks of Pandarus's shooting, he adds,--\n\n     He heard, and madly at the motion pleased,\n     His polish'd bow with hasty rashness seized.\n     (Ibid. iv. 104.)\n\nNow these verbal intimations of the minds and judgments of poets are not\ndifficult to be understood by any one that will heedfully observe them.\nBut besides these, they give us other hints from actions. As Euripides\nis reported, when some blamed him for bringing such an impious and\nflagitious villain as Ixion upon the stage, to have given this answer:\nBut yet I brought him not off till I had fastened him to a torturing\nwheel. This same way of teaching by mute actions is to be found in Homer\nalso, affording us useful contemplations upon those very fables which\nare usually most disliked in him. These some men offer force to, that\nthey may reduce them to allegories (which the ancients called [Greek\nomitted]), and tell us that Venus committing adultery with Mars,\ndiscovered by the Sun, is to be understood thus: that when the star\ncalled Venus is in conjunction with that which hath the name of Mars,\nbastardly births are produced, and by the Sun's rising and discovering\nthem they are not concealed. So will they have Juno's dressing herself\nso accurately to tempt Jupiter, and her making use of the girdle of\nVenus to inflame his love, to be nothing else but the purification of\nthat part of the air which draweth nearest to the nature of fire. As\nif we were not told the meaning of those fables far better by the poet\nhimself. For he teacheth us in that of Venus, if we heed it, that light\nmusic and wanton songs and discourses which suggest to men obscene\nfancies debauch their manners, and incline them to an unmanly way of\nliving in luxury and wantonness, of continually haunting the company of\nwomen, and of being\n\n     Given to fashions, that their garb may please,\n     Hot baths, and couches where they loll at case.\n\nAnd therefore also he brings in Ulysses directing the musician thus,--\n\n     Leave this, and sing the horse, out of whose womb\n     The gallant knights that conquered Troy did come;\n     (\"Odyssey,\" viii. 249 and 492.)\n\nevidently teaching us that poets and musicians ought to receive the\narguments of their songs from sober and understanding men. And in the\nother fable of Juno he excellently shows that the conversation of women\nwith men, and the favors they receive from them procured by sorcery,\nwitchcraft, or other unlawful arts, are not only short, unstable,\nand soon cloying, but also in the issue easily turned to loathing\nand displeasure, when once the pleasure is over. For so Jupiter there\nthreatens Juno, when he tells her,--\n\n     Hear this, remember, and our fury dread,\n     Nor pull the unwilling vengeance on thy head;\n     Lest arts and blandishments successless prove\n     Thy soft deceits and well dissembled love.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xv. 32.)\n\nFor the fiction and representation of evil acts, when it withal\nacquaints us with the shame and damage befalling the doers, hurts not\nbut rather profits him that reads them. For which end philosophers make\nuse of examples for our instruction and correction out of historical\ncollections; and poets do the very same thing, but with this difference,\nthat they invent fabulous examples themselves. There was one Melanthius,\nwho (whether in jest or earnest he said it, it matters not much)\naffirmed that the city of Athens owed its preservation to the\ndissensions and factions that were among the orators, giving withal this\nreason for his assertion, that thereby they were kept from inclining\nall of them to one side, so that by means of the differences among those\nstatesmen there were always some that drew the saw the right way for\nthe defeating of destructive counsels. And thus it is too in the\ncontradictions among poets, which, by lessening the credit of what they\nsay, render them the less powerful to do mischief; and therefore, when\ncomparing one saying with another we discover their contrariety, we\nought to adhere to the better side. As in these instances:--\n\n      The gods, my son, deceive poor men oft-times.\nANS. 'Tis easy, sir, on God to lay our crimes.\n\n      'Tis comfort to thee to be rich, is't not!\nANS. No, sir, 'tis bad to be a wealthy sot.\n\n      Die rather than such toilsome pains to take.\nANS. To call God's service toil's a foul mistake.\n\nSuch contrarieties as these are easily solved, if (as I said) we teach\nyouth to judge aright and to give the better saying preference. But if\nwe chance to meet with any absurd passages without any others at their\nheels to confute them, we are then to overthrow them with such others\nas elsewhere are to be found in the same author. Nor must we be offended\nwith the poet or grieved at him, but only at the speeches themselves,\nwhich he utters either according to the vulgar manner of speaking or, it\nmay be, but in drollery. So, when thou readest in Homer of gods thrown\nout of heaven headlong one by another, or gods wounded by men and\nquarrelling and brawling with each other, thou mayest readily, if thou\nwilt, say to him,--\n\n     Sure thy invention here was sorely out,\n     Or thou hadst said far better things, no doubt;\n     (\"Iliad,\" viii. 358.)\n\nyea, and thou dost so elsewhere, and according as thou thinkest, to wit,\nin these passages of thine:--\n\n     The gods, removed from all that men doth grieve,\n     A quiet and contented life do live.\n\n     Herein the immortal gods forever blest\n     Feel endless joys and undisturbed rest.\n\n     The gods, who have themselves no cause to grieve,\n     For wretched man a web of sorrow weave.\n     (Ibid. vi. 138; \"Odyssey,\" vi. 46; \"Iliad,\" xxiv, 526.)\n\nFor these argue sound and true opinions of the gods; but those other\nwere only feigned to raise passions in men. Again, when Euripides speaks\nat this rate,--\n\n     The gods are better than we men by far,\n     And yet by them we oft deceived are,--\n\nmay do well to quote him elsewhere against himself where he says\nbetter,--\n\n     If gods do wrong, surely no gods there are.\n\nSo also, when Pindar, saith bitterly and keenly,\n\n     No law forbids us anything to do,\n     Whereby a mischief may befall a foe,\n\ntell him: But, Pindar, thou thyself sayest elsewhere,\n\n     The pleasure which injurious acts attends\n     Always in bitter consequences ends.\n\nAnd when Sophocles speaks thus,\n\n     Sweet is the gain, wherein to lie and cheat\n     Adds the repute of wit to what we get,\n\ntell him: But we have heard thee say far otherwise,\n\n     When the account's cast up, the gain's but poor\n     Which by a lying tongue augments the store.\n\nAnd as to what he saith of riches, to wit:--\n\n     Wealth, where it minds to go, meets with no stay;\n     For where it finds not, it can make a way;\n     Many fair offers doth the poor let go,\n     And lose his talent because his purse is low;\n     The fair tongue makes, where wealth can purchase it,\n     The foul face beautiful, the fool a wit:--\n\nagainst this the reader may set in opposition divers other sayings of\nthe same author. For example,\n\n     From honor poverty doth not debar,\n     Where poor men virtuous and deserving are.\n\n     Whate'er fools think, a man is ne'er the worse\n     If he be wise, though with an empty purse.\n\n     The comfort which he gets who wealth enjoys,\n     The vexing care by which 'tis kept destroys.\n\nAnd Menander also somewhere magnifies a voluptuous life, and inflames\nthe minds of vain persons with these amorous strains,\n\n     The glorious sun no living thing doth see,\n     But what's a slave to love as well as we.\n\nBut yet elsewhere, on the other side, he fastens on us and pulls us back\nto the love of virtue, and checks the rage of lust, when he says thus,\n\n     The life that is dishonorably spent,\n     Be it ne'er so pleasant, yields no true content.\n\nFor these lines are contrary to the former, as they are also better and\nmore profitable; so that by comparing them considerately one cannot but\neither be inclined to the better side, or at least flag in the belief of\nthe worse.\n\nBut now, supposing that any of the poets themselves afford no such\ncorrecting passages to solve what they have said amiss, it will then\nbe advisable to confront them with the contrary sayings of other famous\nmen, and therewith to sway the scales of our judgment to the better\nside. As, when Alexis tempts to debauchery in these verses,\n\n     The wise man knows what of all things is best,\n     Whilst choosing pleasure he slights all the rest.\n     He thinks life's joys complete in these three sorts,\n     To drink and eat, and follow wanton sports;\n     And what besides seems to pretend to pleasure,\n     If it betide him, counts it over measure,\n\nwe must remember that Socrates said the contrary, to wit: that they are\nbad men who live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat and\ndrink that they may live. And against the man that wrote in this manner,\n\n     He that designs to encounter with a knave,\n     An equal stock of knavery must have,\n\nseeing he herein advises us to follow other vicious examples, that of\nDiogenes may well be returned, who being asked by what means a man might\nrevenge himself upon his enemy, answered, By becoming himself a good and\nhonest man. And the same Diogenes may be quoted also against Sophocles,\nwho, writing of the sacred mysteries, caused great grief and despair to\nmultitudes of men:--\n\n     Most happy they whose eyes are blest to see\n     The mysteries which here contained be,\n     Before they die! For only they have joy.\n     In th' other world; the rest all ills annoy.\n\nThis passage being read to Diogenes, What then! says he, shall the\ncondition of Pataecion, the notorious robber, after death be better than\nthat of Epaminondas, merely for his being initiated in these mysteries?\nIn like manner, when one Timotheus on the theatre, singing of the\nGoddess Diana, called her furious, raging, possessed, mad, Cinesias\nsuddenly interrupted him, May thy daughter, Timotheus, be such a\ngoddess! And witty also was that of Bion to Theognis, who said,--\n\n     One cannot say nor do, if poor he be;\n     His tongue is bound to th' peace, as well as he.\n     (\"Theognis,\" vss. 177, 178.)\n\nHow comes it to pass then, said he, Theognis that thou thyself being so\npoor pratest and gratest our ears in this manner?\n\nNor are we to omit, in our reading those hints which, from some other\nwords or phrases bordering on those that offend us, may help to rectify\nour apprehensions. But as physicians use cantharides, believing that,\nthough their bodies be deadly poison, yet their feet and wings are\nmedicinal and are antidotes to the poison itself, so must we deal with\npoems. If any noun or verb near at hand may assist to the correction of\nany such saying, and preserve us from putting a bad construction upon\nit, we should take hold of it and employ it to assist a more favorable\ninterpretation. As some do in reference to those verses of Homer,--\n\n     Sorrows and tears most commonly are seen\n     To be the gods' rewards to wretched men:--\n\n     The gods, who have no cause themselves to grieve,\n     For wretched man a web of sorrow weave.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" iv. 197; \"Iliad,\" xxiv. 526.)\n\nFor, they say, he says not of men simply, or of all men, that the gods\nweave for them the fatal web of a sorrowful life, but he affirms it only\nof foolish and imprudent men, whom, because their vices make them such,\nhe therefore calls wretched and miserable.\n\nAnother way whereby those passages which are suspicious in poets maybe\ntransferred to a better sense may be taken from the ordinary use of\nwords, which a young man ought indeed to be more exercised in than\nin the use of strange and obscure terms. For it will be a point of\nphilology which it will not be unprofitable to him to understand, that\nwhen he meets with [Greek omitted] in a poet, that word means an EVIL\nDEATH; for the Macedonians use the word [Greek omitted] to signify\nDEATH. So the Aeolians call victory gotten by patient endurance\nof hardships [Greek omitted] and the Dryopians call daemons [Greek\nomitted].\n\nBut of all things it is most necessary, and no less profitable if we\ndesign to receive profit and not hurt from the poets, that we understand\nhow they make use of the names of gods, as also of the terms of Evil and\nGood; and what they mean by Soul and Fate; and whether these words be\nalways taken by them in one and the same sense or rather in various\nsenses, as also many other words are. For so the word [Greek omitted]\nsometimes signifies a MATERIAL HOUSE, as, Into the high-roofed house;\nand sometimes ESTATE, as, My house is devoured. So the word [Greek\nomitted] sometimes signifies life, and sometimes wealth. And [Greek\nomitted] is sometimes taken for being uneasy and disquieted in mind, as\nin\n\n[Greek omitted] (\"Iliad,\" v. 352.)\n\nand elsewhere for boasting and rejoicing, as in\n\n[Greek omitted] (\"Odyssey,\" xviii. 333.)\n\nIn like manner [Greek omitted] signifies either to MOVE, as in Euripides\nwhen he saith,\n\n[Greek omitted]--\n\nor TO SIT, as in Sophocles when he writes thus,\n\n[Greek omitted] (Sophocles, \"Oedipus Tyranus,\" 2.)\n\nIt is elegant also when they fit to the present matter, as grammarians\nteach, the use of words which have another signification. As here:--\n\n[Greek omitted]\n\nFor here [Greek omitted] signifies TO PRAISE (instead of [Greek\nomitted]), and TO PRAISE is used for TO REFUSE. So in conversation it\nis common with us to say, [Greek omitted], IT IS WELL (i.e., NO, I THANK\nYOU), and to bid anything FAREWELL [Greek omitted]; by which forms of\nspeech we refuse a thing which we do not want, or receive it not, but\nstill with a civil compliment. So also some say that Proserpina\nis called [Greek omitted] in the notion of [Greek omitted], TO BE\nDEPRECATED, because death is by all men shunned.\n\nAnd the like distinction of words we ought to observe also in things\nmore weighty and serious. To begin with the gods, we should teach\nour youth that poets, when they use the names of gods, sometimes mean\nproperly the Divine Beings so called, but otherwhiles understand by\nthose names certain powers of which the gods are the donors and authors,\nthey having first led us into the use of them by their own practice. As\nwhen Archilochus prays,\n\n     King Vulcan, hear thy suppliant, and grant\n     That what thou'rt wont to give and I to want,\n\nit is plain that he means the god himself whom he invokes. But when\nelsewhere he bewails the drowning of his sister's husband, who had not\nobtained lawful burial, and says,\n\n     Had Vulcan his fair limbs to ashes turned,\n     I for his loss had with less passion mourned,\n\nhe gives the name of Vulcan to the fire and not to the Deity. Again,\nEuripides, when he says,\n\n     No; by the glorious stars I swear,\n     And bloody Mars and Jupiter,\n     (Euripides, \"Phoenissae,\" 1006.)\n\nmeans the gods themselves who bare those names. But when Sophocles\nsaith,\n\n     Blind Mars doth mortal men's affairs confound,\n     As the swine's snout doth quite deface the ground,\n\nwe are to understand the word Mars to denote not the god so called,\nbut war. And by the same word we are to understand also weapons made of\nhardened brass, in those verses of Homer,\n\n     These, are the gallant men whose noble blood\n     Keen Mars did shed near swift Scamander's flood.\n     (\"Iliad,\" vii. 329.)\n\nWherefore, in conformity to the instances given, we must conceive and\nbear in mind that by the names of Jupiter also sometimes they mean the\ngod himself, sometimes Fortune, and oftentimes also Fate. For when they\nsay,--\n\n     Great Jupiter, who from the lofty hill\n     Of Ida govern'st all the world at will;\n     (\"Iliad,\" iii. 276.)\n\n     That wrath which hurled to Pluto's gloomy realm\n     The souls of mighty chiefs:--\n\n     Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove;\n     (Ibid. i. 3 and 5.)\n\n     For who (but who himself too fondly loves)\n     Dares lay his wisdom in the scale with Jove's?--\n\nthey understand Jupiter himself. But when they ascribe the event of all\nthings done to Jupiter as the cause, saying of him,--\n\n     Many brave souls to hell Achilles sent,\n     And Jove's design accomplished in th' event,--\n\nthey mean by Jove no more but Fate. For the poet doth not conceive that\nGod contrives mischief against mankind, but he soundly declares the mere\nnecessity of the things themselves, to wit, that prosperity and victory\nare destined by Fate to cities and armies and commanders who govern\nthemselves with sobriety, but if they give way to passions and commit\nerrors, thereby dividing and crumbling themselves into factions, as\nthose of whom the poet speaks did, they do unhandsome actions, and\nthereby create great disturbances, such as are attended with sad\nconsequences.\n\n     For to all unadvised acts, in fine,\n     The Fates unhappy issues do assign.\n     (From Euripides.)\n\nBut when Hesiod brings in Prometheus thus counselling his brother\nEpimetheus,\n\n     Brother, if Jove to thee a present make,\n     Take heed that from his hands thou nothing take,\n     (Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 86.)\n\nhe useth the name of Jove to express Fortune; for he calls the good\nthings which come by her (such as riches, and marriages, and empires,\nand indeed all external things the enjoyment whereof is profitable\nto only them who know how to use them well) the gifts of Jove. And\ntherefore he adviseth Epimetheus (an ill man, and a fool withal) to\nstand in fear of and to guard himself from prosperity, as that which\nwould be hurtful and destructive to him.\n\nAgain, where he saith,\n\n     Reproach thou not a man for being poor;\n     His poverty's God's gift, as is thy store,\n     (Hesiod \"Works and Days,\" 717.)\n\nhe calls that which befalls men by Fortune God's gift, and intimates\nthat it is an unworthy thing to reproach any man for that poverty which\nhe falls into by Fortune, whereas poverty is then only a matter of\ndisgrace and reproach when it is attendant on sloth and idleness, or\nwantonness and prodigality. For, before the name of Fortune was used,\nthey knew there was a powerful cause, which moved irregularly and\nunlimitedly and with such a force that no human reason could avoid it;\nand this cause they called by the names of gods. So we are wont to call\ndivers things and qualities and discourses, and even men themselves,\ndivine. And thus may we rectify many such sayings concerning Jupiter as\nwould otherwise seem very absurd. As these, for instance:--\n\n     Before Jove's door two fatal hogsheads, filled\n     With human fortunes, good and bad luck yield.--\n\n     Of violated oaths Jove took no care,\n     But spitefully both parties crushed by war:--\n\n     To Greeks and Trojans both this was the rise\n     Of Mischief, suitable to Jove's device.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxiv. 527; vii. 69; \"Odyssey,\" viii. 81.)\n\nThese passages we are to interpret as spoken concerning Fortune or Fate,\nof the casuality of both which no account can be given by us, nor\ndo their effects fall under our power. But where anything is said\nof Jupiter that is suitable, rational, and probable, there we are\nto conceive that the names of that god is used properly. As in these\ninstances:--\n\n     Through others' ranks he conquering did range,\n     But shunned with Ajax any blows t' exchange;\n\n     But Jove's displeasure on him he had brought,\n     Had he with one so much his better fought.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xi. 540.)\n\n     For though great matters are Jove's special care,\n     Small things t' inferior daemons trusted are.\n\nAnd other words there are which the poets remove and translate from\ntheir proper sense by accommodation to various things, which deserve\nalso our serious notice. Such a one, for instance, is [Greek omitted],\nVIRTUE. For because virtue does not only render men prudent, just, and\ngood, both in their words and deeds, but also oftentimes purchaseth to\nthem honor and power, therefore they call likewise these by that\nname. So we are wont to call both the olive-tree and the fruit [Greek\nomitted], and the oak-tree and its acorn [Greek omitted] communicating\nthe name of the one to the other. Therefore, when our young man reads in\nthe poets such passages as these,--\n\n     This law th' immortal gods to us have set,\n     That none arrive at virtue but by sweat;\n     (Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 289.)\n\n     The adverse troops then did the Grecians stout\n     By their mere virtue profligate and rout;\n     (\"Iliad,\" xi. 90.)\n\n     If now the Fates determined have our death,\n     To virtue we'll consign our parting breath;--\n\nlet him presently conceive that these things are spoken of that most\nexcellent and divine habit in us which we understand to be no other than\nright reason, or the highest attainment of the reasonable nature, and\nmost agreeable to the constitution thereof. And again, when he reads\nthis,\n\n     Of virtue Jupiter to one gives more,\n     And lessens, when he lifts, another's store;\n\nand this,\n\n     Virtue and honor upon wealth attend;\n     (Ibid. xx. 242; Hesiod \"Works and Days,\" 313.)\n\nlet him not sit down in an astonishing admiration of rich men, as\nif they were enabled by their wealth to purchase virtue, nor let him\nimagine that it is in the power of Fortune to increase or lessen his own\nwisdom; but let him conceive that the poet by virtue meant either glory\nor power or prosperity or something of like import. For poets use the\nsame ambiguity also in the word [Greek omitted], EVIL, which sometimes\nin them properly signifies a wicked and malicious disposition of mind,\nas in that of Hesiod,\n\n     Evil is soon acquired; for everywhere\n     There's plenty on't and t'all men's dwellings near;\n     (Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 287.)\n\nand sometimes some evil accident or misfortune, as when Homer says,\n\n     Sore evils, when they haunt us in our prime,\n     Hasten old age on us before our time.\n     (\"Odyessy,\" xix. 360.)\n\nSo also in the word [Greek omitted], he would be sorely deceived who\nshould imagine that, wheresoever he meets with it in poets, it means (as\nit does in philosophy) a perfect habitual enjoyment of all good things\nor the leading a life every way agreeable to Nature, and that they do\nnot withal by the abuse of such words call rich men happy or blessed,\nand power or glory felicity. For, though Homer rightly useth terms of\nthat nature in this passage,--\n\n     Though of such great estates I am possest,\n     Yet with true inward joy I am not blest;\n     (Ibid. iv. 93.)\n\nand Menander in this,--\n\n     So great's th' estate I am endowed withal:\n     All say I'm rich, but none me happy call;--\n\nyet Euripides discourseth more confusedly and perplexedly when he writes\nafter this manner,--\n\n     I do not want a happy life that is tedious;\n     And, man, why praisest thou\n     Th' unjust beatitude of tyranny?\n     (Euripides, \"Medea,\" 598; \"Phoenissae,\" 549.)\n\nexcept, as I said, we allow him the use of these words in a metaphorical\nand abusive meaning. But enough hath been spoken of these matters.\n\nNevertheless, this principle is not once only but often to be inculcated\nand pressed on young men, that poetry when it undertakes a fictitious\nargument by way of imitation, though it make use of such ornament and\nillustration as suit the actions and manners treated of, yet disclaims\nnot all likelihood of truth, seeing the force of imitation, in order to\nthe persuading of men, lies in probability. Wherefore such imitation as\ndoes not altogether shake hands with truth carries along with it certain\nsigns of virtue and vice mixed together in the actions which it doth\nrepresent. And of this nature is Homer's poetry, which totally bids\nadieu to Stoicism, the principles whereof will not admit any vice to\ncome near where virtue is, nor virtue to have anything to do where any\nvice lodgeth, but affirms that he that is not a wise man can do nothing\nwell, and he that is so can do nothing amiss. Thus they determine in\nthe schools. But in human actions and the affairs of common life the\njudgment of Euripides is verified, that\n\n     Virtue and vice ne'er separately exist,\n     But in the same acts with each other twist.\n     (From the \"Aeolus\" of Euripides.)\n\nNext, it is to be observed that poetry, waiving the truth of things,\ndoes most labor to beautify its fictions with variety and multiplicity\nof contrivance. For variety bestows upon fable all that is pathetical,\nunusual, and surprising, and thereby makes it more taking and graceful;\nwhereas what is void of variety is unsuitable to the nature of fable,\nand so raiseth no passions at all. Upon which design of variety it is,\nthat the poets never represent the same persons always victorious or\nprosperous or acting with the same constant tenor of virtue;--yea,\neven the gods themselves, when they engage in human actions, are not\nrepresented as free from passions and errors;--lest, for the want of\nsome difficulties and cross passages, their poems should be destitute\nof that briskness which is requisite to move and astonish the minds of\nmen.\n\nThese things therefore so standing, we should, when we enter a young man\ninto the study of the poets, endeavor to free his mind from that degree\nof esteem of the good and great personages in them described as may\nincline him to think them to be mirrors of wisdom and justice, the chief\nof princes, and the exemplary measures of all virtue and goodness. For\nhe will receive much prejudice, if he shall approve and admire all that\ncomes from such persons as great, if he dislike nothing in them himself,\nnor will endure to hear others blame them, though for such words and\nactions as the following passages import:--\n\n     Oh! would to all the immortal powers above,\n     Apollo, Pallas, and almighty Jove!\n     That not one Trojan might be left alive,\n     And not a Greek of all the race survive.\n     Might only we the vast destruction shun,\n     And only we destroy the accursed town!\n\n     Her breast all gore, with lamentable cries,\n     The bleeding innocent Cassandra dies,\n     Murdered by Clytemnestra's faithless hand:\n\n     Lie with thy father's whore, my mother said,\n     That she th' old man may loathe; and I obeyed:\n\n     Of all the gods, O father Jove, there's none\n     Thus given to mischief but thyself alone.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xvi. 97; \"Odyssey,\" xi. 421; \"Iliad,\" ix, 452;\n     Ibid. iii, 365.)\n\nOur young man is to be taught not to commend such things as these,\nno, nor to show the nimbleness of his wit or subtlety in maintaining\nargument by finding out plausible colors and pretences to varnish over\na bad matter. But we should teach him rather to judge that poetry is an\nimitation of the manners and lives of such men as are not perfectly\npure and unblameable, but such as are tinctured with passions, misled by\nfalse opinions, and muffled with ignorance; though oftentimes they may,\nby the help of a good natural temper, change them for better qualities.\nFor the young man's mind, being thus prepared and disposed, will receive\nno damage by such passages when he meets with them in poems, but will\non the one side be elevated with rapture at those things which are well\nsaid or done, and on the other, will not entertain but dislike\nthose which are of a contrary character. But he that admires and is\ntransported with everything, as having his judgment enslaved by the\nesteem he hath for the names of heroes, will be unawares wheedled into\nmany evil things, and be guilty of the same folly with those who imitate\nthe crookedness of Plato or the stammering of Aristotle. Neither must he\ncarry himself timorously herein, nor, like a superstitious person in\na temple, tremblingly adore all he meets with; but use himself to\nsuch confidence as may enable him openly to pronounce, This was ill\nor incongruously said, and, That was bravely and gallantly spoken. For\nexample, Achilles in Homer, being offended at the spinning out that\nwar by delays, wherein he was desirous by feats of arms to purchase to\nhimself glory, calls the soldiers together when there was an epidemical\ndisease among them. But having himself some smattering skill in physic,\nand perceiving after the ninth day, which useth to be decretory in such\ncases, that the disease was no usual one nor proceeding from ordinary\ncauses, when he stands up to speak, he waives applying himself to the\nsoldiers, and addresseth himself as a councillor to the general, thus:--\n\n     Why leave we not the fatal Trojan shore,\n     And measure back the seas we cross'd before?\n     (For this and the four following quotations, see\n     \"Iliad,\" i. 59, 90, 220, 349; ix, 458.)\n\nAnd he spake well, and with due moderation and decorum. But when the\nsoothsayer Chalcas had told him that he feared the wrath of the most\npotent among the Grecians, after an oath that while he lived no man\nshould lay violent hands on him, he adds, but not with like wisdom and\nmoderation,\n\n     Not e'en the chief by whom our hosts are led,\n     The king of kings, shall touch that sacred head;\n\nin which speech he declares his low opinion or rather his contempt\nof his chief commander. And then, being farther provoked, he drew his\nweapon with a design to kill him, which attempt was neither good nor\nexpedient. And therefore by and by he repented his rashness,--\n\n     He said, observant of the blue-eyed maid;\n     Then in the sheath returned the shining blade;\n\nwherein again he did rightly and worthily, in that, though he could not\naltogether quell his passion, yet he restrained and reduced it under the\ncommand of reason, before it brake forth into such an irreparable act\nof mischief. Again, even Agamemnon himself talks in that assembly\nridiculously, but carries himself more gravely and more like a prince in\nthe matter of Chryseis. For whereas Achilles, when his Briseis was taken\naway from him,\n\n     In sullenness withdraws from all his friends,\n     And in his tent his time lamenting spends;\n\nAgamemnon himself hands into the ship, delivers to her friends, and so\nsends from him, the woman concerning whom a little before he declared\nthat he loved her better than his wife; and in that action did nothing\nunbecoming or savoring of fond affection. Also Phoenix, when his father\nbitterly cursed him for having to do with one that was his own harlot,\nsays,\n\n     Him in my rage I purposed to have killed,\n     But that my hand some god in kindness held;\n     And minded me that, Greeks would taunting say,\n     Lo, here's the man that did his father slay.\n\nIt is true that Aristarchus was afraid to permit these verses to stand\nin the poet, and therefore censured them to be expunged. But they were\ninserted by Homer very aptly to the occasion of Phoenix's instructing\nAchilles what a pernicious thing anger is, and what foul acts men do by\nits instigation, while they are capable neither of making use of their\nown reason nor of hearing the counsel of others. To which end he also\nintroduceth Meleager at first highly offended with his citizens, and\nafterwards pacified; justly therein reprehending disordered passions,\nand praising it as a good and profitable thing not to yield to them, but\nto resist and overcome them, and to repent when one hath been overcome\nby them.\n\nNow in these instances the difference is manifest. But where a like\nclear judgment cannot be passed, there we are to settle the young man's\nmind thus, by way of distinction. If Nausicaa, having cast her eyes upon\nUlysses, a stranger, and feeling the same passion for him as Calypso had\nbefore, did (as one that was ripe for a husband) out of wantonness talk\nwith her maidens at this foolish rate,--\n\n      O Heaven! in my connubial hour decree\n      This man my spouse, or such a spouse as he!\n      (\"Odyssey,\" vi. 254.)\n\nshe is blameworthy for her impudence and incontinence. But if,\nperceiving the man's breeding by his discourse, and admiring the\nprudence of his addresses, she rather wisheth to have such a one for a\nhusband than a merchant or a dancing gallant of her fellow-citizens,\nshe is to be commended. And when Ulysses is represented as pleased with\nPenelope's jocular conversation with her wooers, and at their presenting\nher with rich garments and other ornaments,\n\n     Because she cunningly the fools cajoled,\n     And bartered light words for their heavy gold;\n     (\"Odyssey,\" xvii, 282.)\n\nif that joy were occasioned by greediness and covetousness, he discovers\nhimself to be a more sordid prostituter of his own life than Poliager is\nwont to be represented on the stage to have been, of whom it is said,--\n\n     Happy man he, whose wife, like Capricorn,\n     Stores him with riches from a golden horn!\n\nBut if through foresight he thought thereby to get them the more within\nhis power, as being lulled asleep in security for the future by the\nhopes she gave them at present, this rejoicing, joined with confidence\nin his wife, was rational. Again, when he is brought in numbering the\ngoods which the Phaeacians had set on shore together with himself and\ndeparted; if indeed, being himself left in such a solitude, so ignorant\nwhere he was, and having no security there for his own person, he is yet\nsolicitous for his goods, lest\n\n     The sly Phaeacians, when they stole to sea,\n     Had stolen some part of what they brought away;\n     (Ibid. xiii. 216.)\n\nthe covetousness of the man deserved in truth to be pitied, or rather\nabhorred. But if, as some say in his defence, being doubtful whether or\nno the place where he was landed were Ithaca, he made use of the\njust tale of his goods to infer thence the honesty of the\nPhaeacians,--because it was not likely they would expose him in a\nstrange place and leave him there with his goods by him untouched, so\nas to get nothing by their dishonesty,--then he makes use of a very fit\ntest for this purpose, and deserves commendation for his wisdom in that\naction. Some also there are who condemn that passage of the putting him\non shore when he was asleep, if it really so happened, and they tell\nus that the people of Tuscany have still a traditional story among them\nconcerning Ulysses, that he was naturally sleepy, and therefore a man\nwhom many people could not freely converse with. But if his sleep\nwas but shammed, and he made use of this pretence only of a natural\ninfirmity, by counterfeiting a nap, to hide the strait he was in at the\ntime in his thoughts, betwixt the shame of sending away the Phaeacians\nwithout giving them a friendly collation and hospitable gifts, and the\nfear he had of being discovered to his enemies by the treating such a\ncompany of men together, they then approve it.\n\nNow, by showing young men these things, we shall preserve them from\nbeing carried away to any corruption in their manners, and dispose them\nto the election and imitation of those that are good, as being before\ninstructed readily to disapprove those and commend these. But this\nought with the most care to be done in the reading of tragedies wherein\nprobable and subtle speeches are made use of in the most foul and wicked\nactions. For that is not always true which Sophocles saith, that\n\n     From evil acts good words can never come.\n\nFor even he himself is wont to apply pleasant reasonings and plausible\narguments to those manners and actions which are wicked or unbecoming.\nAnd in another of his fellow-tragedians, we may see even Phaedra herself\nrepresented as justifying her unlawful affection for Hippolytus by\naccusing Theseus of ill-carriage towards her. And in his Troades, he\nallows Helen the same liberty of speech against Hecuba, whom she judgeth\nto be more worthy of punishment than herself for her adultery, because\nshe was the mother of Paris that tempted her thereto. A young man\ntherefore must not be accustomed to think anything of that nature\nhandsomely or wittily spoken, nor to be pleased with such colorable\ninventions; but rather more to abhor such words as tend to the defence\nof wanton acts than the very acts themselves.\n\nAnd lastly, it will be useful likewise to inquire into the cause why\neach thing is said. For so Cato, when he was a boy, though he was wont\nto be very observant of all his master's commands, yet withal used to\nask the cause or reason why he so commanded. But poets are not to be\nobeyed as pedagogues and promulgators of laws are, except they have\nreason to back what they say. And that they will not want, when they\nspeak well; and if they speak ill, what they say will appear vain and\nfrivolous. But nowadays most young men very briskly demand the reason\nof such trivial speeches as these, and inquire in what sense they are\nspoken:--\n\n     It bodes ill, when vessels you set up,\n     To put the ladle on the mixing-cup.\n\n     Who from his chariot to another's leaps,\n     Seldom his seat without a combat keeps.\n     (Hesiod \"Works and Days,\" 744; \"Iliad,\" iv. 306.)\n\nBut to those of greater moment they give credence without examination,\nas to those that follow:--\n\n     The boldest men are daunted oftentimes,\n     When they're reproached with their parents' crimes:\n     (Euripides, \"Hippolytus,\" 424.)\n\n     When any man is crushed by adverse fate,\n     His spirit should be low as his estate.\n\nAnd yet such speeches relate to manners, and disquiet men's lives by\nbegetting in them evil opinions and unworthy sentiments, except they\nhave learned to return answer to each of them thus: \"Wherefore is\nit necessary that a man who is crushed by adverse fate should have a\ndejected spirit? Yea, why rather should he not struggle against Fortune,\nand raise himself above the pressures of his low circumstances? Why, if\nI myself be a good and wise son of an evil and foolish father, does it\nnot rather become me to bear myself confidently upon the account of my\nown virtue, than to be dejected and dispirited because of my father's\ndefects?\" For he that can encounter such speeches and oppose them after\nthis manner, not yielding himself up to be overset with the blast of\nevery saying, but approving that speech of Heraclitus, that\n\n     Whate'er is said, though void of sense and wit,\n     The size of a fool's intellect doth fit,\n\nwill reject many such things as falsely and idly spoken.\n\nThese things therefore may be of use to preserve us from the hurt we\nmight get by the study of poems.\n\nNow, as on a vine the fruit oftentimes lies concealed and hidden under\nits large leaves and luxuriant branches, so in the poet's phrases and\nfictions that encompass them there are also many profitable and useful\nthings concealed from the view of young men. This, however, ought not to\nbe suffered; nor should we be led away from things themselves thus, but\nrather adhere to such of them as tend to the promoting of virtue and\nthe well forming of our manners. It will not be altogether useless,\ntherefore, to treat briefly in the next place of passages of that\nnature. Wherein I intend to touch only at some particulars, leaving\nall longer discussion, and the trimming up and furnishing them with\na multitude of instances, to those who write more for display and\nostentation.\n\nFirst, therefore, let our young man be taught to understand good and\nbad manners and persons, and from thence apply his mind to the words and\ndeeds which the poet decently assigns to either of them. For example,\nAchilles, though in some wrath, speaks to Agamemnon thus decently:--\n\n     Nor, when we take a Trojan town, can I\n     With thee in spoils and splendid prizes vie;\n     (For this and the five following quotations,\n     see \"Iliad,\" i. 163; ii. 226; i. 128; ii. 231;\n     iv. 402 and 404.)\n\nwhereas Thersites to the same person speaks reproachfully in this\nmanner:--\n\n     'Tis thine whate'er the warrior's breast inflames,\n     The golden spoil, thine the lovely dames.\n     With all the wealth our wars and blood bestow,\n     Thy tents are crowded and thy chests o'erflow.\n\nAgain, Achilles thus:--\n\n     Whene'er, by Jove's decree, our conquering powers\n     Shall humble to the dust Troy's lofty towers;\n\nbut Thersites thus:--\n\n     Whom I or some Greek else as captive bring.\n\nAgain, Diomedes, when Agamemnon taking a view of the army spoke\nreproachfully to him,\n\n     To his hard words forbore to make reply,\n     For the respect he bare to majesty;\n\nwhereas Sthenelus, a man of small note, replies on him thus:--\n\n     Sir, when you know the truth, what need to lie?\n     For with our fathers we for valor vie.\n\nNow the observation of such difference will teach the young man the\ndecency of a modest and moderate temper, and the unbecoming nauseousness\nof the contrary vices of boasting and cracking of a man's own worth. And\nit is worth while also to take notice of the demeanor of Agamemnon in\nthe same place. For he passeth by Sthenelus unspoken to; but perceiving\nUlysses to be offended, he neglects not him, but applies himself to\nanswer him:--\n\n     Struck with his generous wrath, the king replies.\n     (\"Iliad,\" iv. 357. For the four following, see \"Iliad,\" ix. 34\n     and 70; iv. 431; x. 325.)\n\nFor to have apologized to every one had been too servile and misbecoming\nthe dignity of his person; whereas equally to have neglected every one\nhad been an act of insolence and imprudence. And very handsome it is\nthat Diomedes, though in the heat of the battle he answers the king only\nwith silence, yet after the battle was over useth more liberty towards\nhim, speaking thus:--\n\n     You called me coward, sir, before the Greeks.\n\nIt is expedient also to take notice of the different carriage of a wise\nman and of a soothsayer popularly courting the multitude. For Chalcas\nvery unseasonably makes no scruple to traduce the king before the\npeople, as having been the cause of the pestilence that was befallen\nthem. But Nestor, intending to bring in a discourse concerning the\nreconciling Achilles to him, that he might not seem to charge Agamemnon\nbefore the multitude with the miscarriage his passion had occasioned,\nonly adviseth him thus:--\n\n     But thou, O king, to council call the old....\n     Wise weighty counsels aid a state distressed,\n     And such a monarch as can choose the best;\n\nwhich done, accordingly after supper he sends his ambassadors. Now this\nspeech of Nestor tended to the rectifying of what he had before done\namiss; but that of Chalcas, only to accuse and disparage him.\n\nThere is likewise consideration to be had of the different manners of\nnations, such as these. The Trojans enter into battle with loud outcries\nand great fierceness; but in the army of the Greeks,\n\n     Sedate and silent move the numerous bands;\n     No sound, no whisper, but the chief's commands;\n     Those only heard, with awe the rest obey.\n\nFor when soldiers are about to engage an enemy, the awe they stand in of\ntheir officers is an argument both of courage and obedience. For which\npurpose Plato teacheth us that we ought to inure ourselves to fear,\nblame and disgrace more than labor and danger. And Cato was wont to say\nthat he liked men that were apt to blush better than those that looked\npale.\n\nMoreover, there is a particular character to be noted of the men who\nundertake for any action. For Dolon thus promiseth:--\n\n     I'll pass through all their host in a disguise\n     To their flag-ship, where she at anchor lies.\n\nBut Diomedes promiseth nothing, but only tells them he shall fear the\nless if they send a companion with him; whereby is intimated, that\ndiscreet foresight is Grecian and civil, but rash confidence is\nbarbarous and evil; and the former is therefore to be imitated, and the\nlatter to be avoided.\n\nIt is a matter too of no unprofitable consideration, how the minds of\nthe Trojans and of Hector too were affected when he and Ajax were about\nto engage in a single combat. For Aeschylus, when, upon one of the\nfighters at fisticuffs in the Isthmian games receiving a blow on the\nface, there was made a great outcry among the people, said: \"What a\nthing is practice! See how the lookers-on only cry out, but the man that\nreceived the stroke is silent.\" But when the poet tells us, that the\nGreeks rejoiced when they saw Ajax in his glistering armor, but\n\n     The Trojans' knees for very fear did quake,\n     And even Hector's heart began to ache;\n     (\"Iliad,\" vii. 215.  For the three following,\n     see \"Iliad,\" ii. 220; v. 26 and 231.)\n\nwho is there that wonders not at this difference,--when the heart of\nhim that was to run the risk of the combat only beats inwardly, as if he\nwere to undertake a mere wrestling or running match, but the very bodies\nof the spectators tremble and shake, out of the kindness and fear which\nthey had for their king?\n\nIn the same poet also we may observe the difference betwixt the humor of\na coward and a valiant man. For Thersites\n\n     Against Achilles a great malice had,\n     And wise Ulysses he did hate as bad;\n\nbut Ajax is always represented as friendly to Achilles; and particularly\nhe speaks thus to Hector concerning him:--\n\n     Hector I approach my arm, and singly know\n     What strength thou hast, and what the Grecian foe.\n     Achilles shuns the fight; yet some there are\n     Not void of soul, and not unskill'd in war:\n\nwherein he insinuates the high commendation of that valiant man. And in\nwhat follows, he speaks like handsome things of his fellow-soldiers in\ngeneral, thus:--\n\n     Whole troops of heroes Greece has yet to boast,\n     And sends thee one, a sample of her host;\n\nwherein he doth not boast himself to be the only or the best champion,\nbut one of those, among many others, who were fit to undertake that\ncombat.\n\nWhat hath been said is sufficient upon the point of dissimilitudes;\nexcept we think fit to add this, that many of the Trojans came into the\nenemy's power alive, but none of the Grecians; and that many Trojans\nsupplicated to their enemies,--as (for instance) Adrastus, the sons of\nAntimachus, Lycaon,--and even Hector himself entreats Achilles for a\nsepulture; but not one of these doth so, as judging it barbarous to\nsupplicate to a foe in the field, and more Greek-like either to conquer\nor die.\n\nBut as, in the same plant, the bee feeds on the flower, the goat on the\nbud, the hog on the root, and other living creatures on the seed and the\nfruit; so in reading of poems, one man singleth out the historical\npart, another dwells upon the elegancy and fit disposal of words, as\nAristophanes says of Euripides,--\n\n     His gallant language runs so smooth and round,\n     That I am ravisht with th' harmonious sound;\n     (See \"Aristophanes,\" Frag. 397.)\n\nbut others, to whom this part of my discourse is directed, mind only\nsuch things as are useful to the bettering of manners. And such we are\nto put in mind that it is an absurd thing, that those who delight in\nfables should not let anything slip them of the vain and extravagant\nstories they find in poets, and that those who affect language should\npass over nothing that is elegantly and floridly expressed; and that\nonly the lovers of honor and virtue, who apply themselves to the study\nof poems not for delight but for instruction's sake, should slightly\nand negligently observe what is spoken in them relating to valor,\ntemperance, or justice. Of this nature is the following:--\n\n     And stand we deedless, O eternal shame!\n     Till Hector's arm involve the ships in flame?\n     Haste, let us join, and combat side by side.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xi. 313.  For the four following see\n     \"Odyssey,\" iii. 52; \"Iliad,\" xxiv. 560 and 584;\n     \"Odyssey,\" xvi. 274.)\n\nFor to see a man of the greatest wisdom in danger of being totally cut\noff with all those that take part with him, and yet affected less with\nfear of death than of shame and dishonor, must needs excite in a young\nman a passionate affection for virtue. And this,\n\n     Joyed was the Goddess, for she much did prize\n     A man that was alike both just and wise,\n\nteacheth us to infer that the Deity delights not in a rich or a proper\nor a strong man, but in one that is furnished with wisdom and justice.\nAgain, when the same goddess (Minerva) saith that the reason why she did\nnot desert or neglect Ulysses was that he was\n\n     Gentle, of ready wit, of prudent mind,\n\nshe therein tells us that, of all things pertaining to us, nothing\nis dear to the gods and godlike but our virtue, seeing like naturally\ndelights in like.\n\nAnd seeing, moreover, that it both seemeth and really is a great thing\nto be able to moderate a man's anger, but a greater by far to guard\na man's self beforehand by prudence, that he fall not into it nor be\nsurprised by it, therefore also such passages as tend that way are not\nslightly to be represented to the readers; for example, that Achilles\nhimself--who was a man of no great forbearance, nor inclined to such\nmeekness--yet admonishes Priam to be calm and not to provoke him, thus,\n\n     Move me no more (Achilles thus replies,\n     While kindling anger sparkled in his eyes),\n     Nor seek by tears my steady soul to bend:\n     To yield thy Hector I myself intend:\n     Cease; lest, neglectful of high Jove's command,\n     I show thee, king, thou tread'st on hostile land;\n\nand that he himself first washeth and decently covereth the body of\nHector and then puts it into a chariot, to prevent his father's seeing\nit so unworthily mangled as it was,--\n\n                   Lest the unhappy sire,\n     Provoked to passion, once more rouse to ire\n     The stern Pelides; and nor sacred age,\n     Nor Jove's command, should check the rising rage.\n\nFor it is a piece of admirable prudence for a man so prone to anger, as\nbeing by nature hasty and furious, to understand himself so well as to\nset a guard upon his own inclinations, and by avoiding provocations to\nkeep his passion at due distance by the use of reason, lest he should be\nunawares surprised by it. And after the same manner must the man that\nis apt to be drunken forearm himself against that vice; and he that is\ngiven to wantonness, against lust, as Agesilaus refused to receive a\nkiss from a beautiful person addressing to him, and Cyrus would not so\nmuch as endure to see Panthea. Whereas, on the contrary, those that are\nnot virtuously bred are wont to gather fuel to inflame their passions,\nand voluntarily to abandon themselves to those temptations to which of\nthemselves they are endangered. But Ulysses does not only restrain his\nown anger, but (perceiving by the discourse of his son Telemachus,\nthat through indignation conceived against such evil men he was greatly\nprovoked) he blunts his passion too beforehand, and composeth him to\ncalmness and patience, thus:--\n\n     There, if base scorn insult my reverend age,\n     Bear it, my son! repress thy rising rage.\n     If outraged, cease that outrage to repel;\n     Bear it, my son! howe'er thy heart rebel.\n\nFor as men are not wont to put bridles on their horses when they are\nrunning in full speed, but bring them bridled beforehand to the race; so\ndo they use to preoccupy and predispose the minds of those persons with\nrational considerations to enable them to encounter passion, whom\nthey perceive to be too mettlesome and unmanageable upon the sight of\nprovoking objects.\n\nFurthermore, the young man is not altogether to neglect names themselves\nwhen he meets with them; though he is not obliged to give much heed\nto such idle descants as those of Cleanthes, who, while he professeth\nhimself an interpreter, plays the trifler, as in these passages of\nHomer: [Greek omitted], (\"Iliad,\" iii. 320; xvi. 233.) For he will\nneeds read the two of these words joined into one, and make them [Greek\nomitted] for that the air evaporated from the earth by exhalation [Greek\nomitted] is so called. Yea, and Chrysippus too, though he does not so\ntrifle, yet is very jejune, while he hunts after improbable etymologies.\nAs when he will need force the words [Greek omitted] to import Jupiter's\nexcellent faculty in speaking and powerfulness to persuade thereby.\n\nBut such things as these are fitter to be left to the examination of\ngrammarians and we are rather to insist upon such passages as are both\nprofitable and persuasive. Such, for instance, as these;--\n\n     My early youth was bred to martial pains,\n     My soul impels me to the embattled plains!\n\n     How skill'd he was in each obliging art;\n     The mildest manners, and the gentlest heart.\n     (Ibid. vi. 444; xvii. 671.)\n\nFor while the author tells us that fortitude may be taught, and that an\nobliging and graceful way of conversing with others is to be gotten by\nart and the use of reason, he exhorts us not to neglect the improvement\nof ourselves, but by observing our teachers' instructions to learn a\nbecoming carriage, as knowing that clownishness and cowardice argue\nill-breeding and ignorance. And very suitable to what hath been said is\nthat which is said of Jupiter and Neptune:--\n\n     Gods of one source, of one ethereal race,\n     Alike divine, and heaven their native place;\n\n     But Jove the greater; first born of the skies,\n     And more than men or Gods supremely wise.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xiii. 354.)\n\nFor the poet therein pronounceth wisdom to be the most divine and royal\nquality of all; as placing therein the greatest excellency of Jupiter\nhimself, and judging all virtues else to be necessarily consequent\nthereunto. We are also to accustom a young man attentively to hear such\nthings as these:--\n\n     Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies:\n     And sure he will, for wisdom never lies:\n\n     The praise of wisdom, in thy youth obtain'd,\n     An act so rash, Antilochus, has stain'd:\n\n     Say, is it just, my friend, that Hector's ear\n     From such a warrior such a speech should hear?\n     I deemed thee once the wisest of thy kind,\n     But ill this insult suits a prudent mind.\n     (\"Odyssey,\" iii. 20; \"Iliad,\" xxiii. 570; xvii. 170.)\n\nThese speeches teach us that it is beneath wise men to lie or to deal\notherwise than fairly, even in games, or to blame other men without just\ncause. And when the poet attributes Pindarus's violation of the truce to\nhis folly, he withal declares his judgment that a wise man will not\nbe guilty of an unjust action. The like may we also infer concerning\ncontinence, taking our ground for it from these passages:--\n\n     For him Antaea burn'd with lawless flame,\n     And strove to tempt him from the paths of fame:\n     In vain she tempted the relentless youth,\n     Endued with wisdom, sacred fear, and truth:\n\n     At first, with worthy shame and decent pride,\n     The royal dame, his lawless suit denied!\n     For virtue's image yet possessed her mind:\n     (\"Iliad,\" vi. 160; \"Odyssey,\" iii. 265.)\n\nin which speeches the poet assigns wisdom to be the cause of continence.\nAnd when in exhortations made to encourage soldiers to fight, he speaks\nin this manner:--\n\n     What mean you, Lycians?  Stand! O stand, for shame!\n\n     Yet each reflect who prizes fame or breath,\n     On endless infamy, on instant death;\n     For, lo! the fated time, the appointed shore;\n     Hark! the gates burst, the brazen barriers roar!\n     (\"Iliad,\" xvi. 422; xiii. 121.)\n\nhe seems to intimate that prudent men are valiant men; because they fear\nthe shame of base actions, and can trample on pleasures and stand their\nground in the greatest hazards. Whence Timotheus, in the play called\nPersae, takes occasion handsomely to exhort the Grecians thus:--\n\n     Brave soldiers of just shame in awe should stand;\n     For the blushing face oft helps the fighting hand.\n\nAnd Aeschylus also makes it a point of wisdom not to be blown up with\npride when a man is honored, nor to be moved or elevated with the\nacclamations of a multitude, writing thus of Amphiaraus:--\n\n     His shield no emblem bears; his generous soul\n     Wishes to be, not to appear, the best;\n     While the deep furrows of his noble mind\n     Harvests of wise and prudent counsel bear.\n     (See note in the same passage of\n     Aeschylus (Sept. 591), i. 210. (G).)\n\nFor it is the part of a wise man to value himself upon the consciousness\nof his own true worth and excellency.\n\nWhereas, therefore, all inward perfections are reducible to wisdom, it\nappears that all sorts of virtue and learning are included in it\n\nAgain, boys may be instructed, by reading the poets as they ought, to\ndraw even from those passages that are most suspected as wicked and\nabsurd something that is useful and profitable; as the bee is taught by\nNature to gather the sweetest and most pleasant honey from the harshest\nflowers and sharpest thorns. It does indeed at the first blush cast a\nshrewd suspicion on Agmemnon of taking a bribe, when Homer tells us that\nhe discharged that rich man from the wars who presented him with his\nfleet mare Aethe:--\n\n     Whom rich Echepolus, more rich than brave,\n     To 'scape the wars, to Agamemnon gave\n     (Aethe her name), at home to end his days;\n     Base wealth preferring to eternal praise.\n     (\"Iliad,\" xxiii. 297.)\n\nYet, as saith Aristotle, it was well done of him to prefer a good beast\nbefore such a man. For, the truth is, a dog or ass is of more value than\na timorous and cowardly man that wallows in wealth and luxury. Again,\nThetis seems to do indecently, when she exhorts her son to follow his\npleasures and minds him of companying with women. But even here, on the\nother side, the continency of Achilles is worthy to be considered; who,\nthough he dearly loved Briseis,--newly returned to him too,--yet, when\nhe knew his life to be near its end, does not hasten to the fruition\nof pleasures, nor, when he mourns for his friend Patroclus, does he (as\nmost men are wont) shut himself up from all business and neglect his\nduty, but only bars himself from recreations for his sorrow's sake,\nwhile yet he gives himself up to action and military employments.\nAnd Archilochus is not praiseworthy either, who, in the midst of his\nmourning for his sister's husband drowned in the sea, contrives to\ndispel his grief by drinking and merriment. And yet he gives this\nplausible reason to justify that practice of his,\n\n     To drink and dance, rather than mourn, I choose;\n     Nor wrong I him, whom mourning can't reduce.\n\nFor, if he judged himself to do nothing amiss when he followed sports\nand banquets, sure, we shall not do worse, if in whatever circumstances\nwe follow the study of philosophy, or manage public affairs, or go to\nthe market or to the Academy, or follow our husbandry. Wherefore those\ncorrections also are not to be rejected which Cleanthes and Antisthenes\nhave made use of. For Antisthenes, seeing the Athenians all in a tumult\nin the theatre, and justly, upon the pronunciation of this verse,--\n\n     Except what men think wrong, there's nothing ill,\n     (From the \"Aeolus\" of Euripides, Frag. 19.)\n\npresently subjoined this corrective,\n\n     What's wrong is so,--believe men what they will.\n\nAnd Cleanthes, hearing this passage concerning wealth:--\n\n     Great is th' advantage that great wealth attends,\n     For oft with it we purchase health and friends,\n     (Euripides, \"Electra,\" 428.)\n\npresently altered it thus:\n\n     Great disadvantage oft attends on wealth;\n     We purchase whores with't and destroy our health.\n\nAnd Zeno corrected that of Sophocles,\n\n     The man that in a tyrant's palace dwells\n     His liberty for's entertainment sells,\n\nafter this manner:--\n\n     No: if he came in free, he cannot lose\n     His liberty, though in a tyrant's house;\n\nmeaning by a free man one that is undaunted and magnanimous, and one of\na spirit too great to stoop beneath itself. And why may not we also, by\nsome such acclamations as those, call off young men to the better side,\nby using some things spoken by poets after the same manner? For example,\nit is said,\n\n     'Tis all that in this life one can require,\n     To hit the mark he aims at in desire.\n\nTo which we may reply thus:--\n\n     'Tis false; except one level his desire\n     At what's expedient, and no more require.\n\nFor it is an unhappy thing and not to be wished, for a man to obtain and\nbe master of what he desires if it be inexpedient. Again this saying,\n\n     Thou, Agamemnon, must thyself prepare\n     Of joy and grief by turns to take thy share,\n     Thy father, Atreus, sure, ne'er thee begat,\n     To be an unchanged favorite of Fate:\n     (Euripides, \"Iphigenia at Aulus,\" 29.)\n\nwe may thus invert:--\n\n     Thy father, Atreus, never thee begat,\n     To be an unchanged favorite of Fate:\n     Therefore, if moderate thy fortunes are,\n     Thou shouldst rejoice always, and grief forbear.\n\nAgain it is said,\n\n     Alas! this ill comes from the powers divine\n     That oft we see what's good, yet it decline.\n     (From the \"Chrysippus\" of Euripides, Frag. 838.)\n\nYea, rather, say we, it is a brutish and irrational and wretched fault\nof ours, that when we understand better things, we are carried away\nto the pursuit of those which are worse, through our intemperance and\neffeminacy. Again, one says,\n\n     For not the teacher's speech but practice moves.\n     (From Menander.)\n\nYea, rather, say we, both the speech and practice,--or the practice by\nthe means of speech,--as the horse is managed with the bridle, and\nthe ship with the helm. For virtue hath no instrument so suitable and\nagreeable to human nature to work on men withal, as that of rational\ndiscourse. Again, we meet with this character of some person:--\n\n     A.  Is he more inclined to male or female love?\n     B.  He bends both ways, where beauty moves.\n\nBut it had been better said thus:--\n\n     He's flexible to both, where virtue moves.\n\nFor it is no commendation of a man's dexterity to be tossed up and down\nas pleasure and beauty move him, but an argument rather of a weak and\nunstable disposition. Once more, this speech,\n\n     Religion damps the courage of our minds,\n     And ev'n wise men to cowardice inclines,\n\nis by no means to be allowed; but rather the contrary,\n\n     Religion truly fortifies men's minds,\n     And a wise man to valiant acts inclines,\n\nand gives not occasion of fear to any but weak and foolish persons and\nsuch as are ungrateful to the Deity, who are apt to look on that divine\npower and principle which is the cause of all good with suspicion and\njealousy, as being hurtful unto them. And so much for that which I call\ncorrection of poets' sayings.\n\nThere is yet another way of improving poems, taught us well by\nChrysippus; which is, by accommodation of any saying, to transfer that\nwhich is useful and serviceable in it to divers things of the same kind.\nFor whereas Hesiod saith,\n\n     If but a cow miscarry, the common fame\n     Upon the next ill neighbor lays the blame;\n     (Hesiod, \"Work and Days,\" 348.)\n\nthe same may be applied to a man's dog or ass or any other beast of his\nwhich is liable to the like mischance. Again, Euripides saith,\n\n     How can that man be called a slave, who slights\n     Ev'n death itself, which servile spirits frights?\n\nthe like whereof may be said of hard labor or painful sickness. For as\nphysicians, finding by experience the force of any medicine in the cure\nof some one disease, make use of it by accommodation, proportionably\nto every other disease of affinity thereto, so are we to deal with such\nspeeches as are of a common import and apt to communicate their value to\nother things; we must not confine them to that one thing only to which\nthey were at first adapted, but transfer them to all other of like\nnature, and accustom young men by many parallel instances to see the\ncommunicableness of them, and exercise the promptness of their wits in\nsuch applications so that when Menander says,\n\n     Happy is he who wealth and wisdom hath,\n\nthey may be able to judge that the same is fitly applicable to glory\nand authority and eloquence also. And the reproof which Ulysses gives\nAchilles, when he found him sitting in Scyrus in the apartment of the\nyoung ladies,\n\n     Thou, who from noblest Greeks deriv'st thy race,\n     Dost thou with spinning wool thy birth disgrace?\n\nmay be as well given to the prodigal, to him that undertakes any\ndishonest way of living, yea, to the slothful and unlearned person,\nthus:--\n\n     Thou, who from noblest Greeks deriv'st thy race,\n     Dost thou with fuddling thy great birth disgrace?\n\nor dost thou spend thy time in dicing, or quail-striking, (The word here\nused [Greek omitted] denotes a game among the Grecians, which Suidas\ndescribes to be the setting of quails in a round compass or ring and\nstriking at the heads of them; and he that in the ring struck one had\nliberty to strike at the rest in order, but he that missed was obliged\nto set up quails for others; and this they did by turns.) or deal in\nadulterate wares or griping usury, not minding anything that is great\nand worthy thy noble extraction? So when they read,\n\n     For wealth, the God most served, I little care,\n     Since the worst men his favors often wear,\n     (From the \"Aeolus,\" of Euripides, Frag. 20.)\n\nthey may be able to infer, therefore, as little regard is to be had to\nglory and bodily beauty and princely robes and priestly garlands, all\nwhich also we see to be the enjoyments of very bad men. Again, when they\nread this passage,\n\n     A coward father propagates his vice,\n     And gets a son heir to his cowardice,\n\nthey may in truth apply the same to intemperance, to superstition,\nto envy, and all other diseases of men's minds. Again, whereas it is\nhandsomely said of Homer,\n\n     Unhappy Paris, fairest to behold!\n\nand\n\n     Hector, of noble form.\n     (\"Iliad,\" iii. 39; xvii. 142.)\n\nfor herein he shows that a man who hath no greater excellency than that\nof beauty to commend him deserves to have it mentioned with contempt\nand ignominy,--such expressions we should make use of in like cases to\nrepress the insolence of such as bear themselves high upon the account\nof such things as are of no real value, and to teach young men to look\nupon such compellations as \"O thou richest of men,\" and \"O thou that\nexcellest in feasting, in multitudes of attendants, in herds of cattle,\nyea, and in eloquent speaking itself,\" to be (as they are indeed)\nexpressions that import reproach and infamy. For, in truth, a man\nthat designs to excel ought to endeavor it in those things that are\nin themselves most excellent, and to become chief in the chiefest, and\ngreat in the greatest things. Whereas glory that ariseth from things in\nthemselves small and inconsiderable is inglorious and contemptible.\nTo mind us whereof we shall never be at a loss for instances, if, in\nreading Homer especially, we observe how he applieth the expressions\nthat import praise or disgrace; wherein we have clear proof that he\nmakes small account of the good things either of the body or Fortune.\nAnd first of all, in meetings and salutations, men do not call others\nfair or rich or strong, but use such terms of commendation as these:--\n\n     Son of Laertes, from great Jove deriving\n     Thy pedigree, and skilled in wise contriving;\n\n     Hector, thou son of Priam, whose advice\n     With wisest Jove's men count of equal price;\n\n     Achilles, son of Peleus, whom all story\n     Shall mention as the Grecians greatest glory;\n\n     Divine Patroclus, for thy worth thou art,\n     Of all the friends I have, lodged next my heart.\n     (\"Iliad,\" ii. 173; vii. 47; xix. 216; xi. 608.)\n\nAnd moreover, when they speak disgracefully of any person, they touch\nnot at bodily defects, but direct all their reproaches to vicious\nactions; as for instance:--\n\n     A dogged-looking, drunken beast thou art,\n     And in thy bosom hast a deer's faint heart;\n\n     Ajax at brawling valiant still,\n     Whose tongue is used to speaking ill;\n\n     A tongue so loose hung, and so vain withal,\n     Idomeneus, becomes thee not at all;\n\n     Ajax thy tongue doth oft offend;\n     For of thy boasting there's no end.\n     (Ibid. i. 225; xxiii. 483 and 474-479; xiii. 824.)\n\nLastly, when Ulysses reproacheth Thersites, he objecteth not to him his\nlameness nor his baldness nor his hunched back, but the vicious quality\nof indiscreet babbling. On the other side, when Juno means to express a\ndalliance or motherly fondness to her son Vulcan, she courts him with an\nepithet taken from his halting, thus,\n\n     Rouse thee, my limping son!\n     (Ibid, xxi. 331.)\n\nIn this instance, Homer does (as it were) deride those who are ashamed\nof their lameness or blindness, as not thinking anything a disgrace that\nis not in itself disgraceful, nor any person liable to a reproach for\nthat which is not imputable to himself but to Fortune. These two\ngreat advantages may be made by those who frequently study poets;--the\nlearning moderation, to keep them from unseasonable and foolish\nreproaching others with their misfortunes, when they themselves enjoy a\nconstant current of prosperity; and magnanimity, that under variety of\naccidents they be not dejected nor disturbed, but meekly bear the being\nscoffed at, reproached, and drolled upon. Especially, let them have that\nsaying of Philemon ready at hand in such cases:--\n\n     That spirit's well in tune, whose sweet repose\n     No railer's tongue can ever discompose.\n\nAnd yet, if one that so rails do himself merit reprehension, thou mayst\ntake occasion to retort upon him his own vices and inordinate passions;\nas when Adrastus in the tragedy is assaulted thus by Alcmaeon,\n\n     Thy sister's one that did her husband kill,\n\nhe returns him this answer,\n\n     But thou thyself thy mother's blood did spill.\n\nFor as they who scourge a man's garments do not touch the body, so those\nthat turn other men's evil fortunes or mean births to matter of reproach\ndo only with vanity and folly enough lash their external circumstances,\nbut touch not their internal part, the soul, nor those things which\ntruly need correction and reproof.\n\nMoreover, as we have above taught you to abate and lessen the credit\nof evil and hurtful poems by setting in opposition to them the famous\nspeeches and sentences of such worthy men as have managed public\naffairs, so will it be useful to us, where we find any things in them\nof civil and profitable import, to improve and strengthen them by\ntestimonies and proofs taken from philosophers, withal giving these the\ncredit of being the first inventors of them. For this is both just and\nprofitable to be done, seeing by this means such sayings receive an\nadditional strength and esteem, when it appears that what is spoken\non the stage or sung to the harp or occurs in a scholar's lesson\nis agreeable to the doctrines of Pythagoras and Plato, and that the\nsentences of Chile and Bias tend to the same issue with those that\nare found in the authors which children read. Therefore must we\nindustriously show them that these poetical sentences,\n\n     Not these, O daughter, are thy proper cares,\n     Thee milder arts befit, and softer wars;\n     Sweet smiles are thine, and kind endearing charms;\n     To Mars and Pallas leave the deeds of arms;\n\n     Jove's angry with thee, when thy unmanaged rage\n     With those that overmatch thee doth engage;\n     (\"Iliad,\" v. 248; xi. 543.)\n\ndiffer not in substance but bear plainly the same sense with that\nphilosophical sentence, Know thyself, And these\n\n     Fools, who by wrong seek to augment their store,\n     And know not how much half than all is more;\n\n     Of counsel giv'n to mischievous intents,\n     The man that gives it most of all repents;\n     (Hesiod, \"Works and Days,\" 40 and 266.)\n\nare of near kin to what we find in the determination of Plato, in his\nbooks entitled Gorgias and Concerning the Commonwealth, to wit, that\nit is worse to do than to suffer injury, and that a man more endamageth\nhimself when he hurts another, than he would be damnified if he were the\nsufferer. And that of Aeschylus,\n\n     Cheer up, friend; sorrows, when they highest climb,\n     What they exceed in measure want in time,\n\nwe must inform them, is but the same famous sentence which is so much\nadmired in Epicurus, that great griefs are but short, and those that\nare of long continuance are but small. The former clause whereof is that\nwhich Aeschylus here saith expressly, and the latter but the consequent\nof that. For if a great and intense sorrow do not last, then that which\ndoth last is not great nor hard to be borne. And those words of Thespis,\n\n     Seest not how Jove,--because he cannot lie\n     Nor vaunt nor laugh at impious drollery,\n     And pleasure's charms are things to him unknown,--\n\n     Among the gods wears the imperial crown?\n\nwherein differ they from what Plato says, that the divine nature is\nremote from both joy and grief? And that saying of Bacchylides,\n\n     Virtue alone doth lasting honor gain,\n     But men of basest souls oft wealth attain;\n\nand those of Euripides much of the same import,\n\n     Hence temperance in my esteem excels,\n     Because it constantly with good men dwells;\n\n     However you may strive for honor\n     And you may seem to have secured by wealth virtue,\n     Good men will place you among the miserable;\n\ndo they not evidently confirm to us what the philosophers say of riches\nand other external good things, that without virtue they are fruitless\nand unprofitable enjoyments?\n\nNow thus to accommodate and reconcile poetry to the doctrines of\nphilosophy strips it of its fabulous and personated parts, and makes\nthose things which it delivers usefully to acquire also the reputation\nof gravity; and over and above, it inclines the soul of a young man to\nreceive the impressions of philosophical precepts. For he will hereby be\nenabled to come to them not altogether destitute of some sort of relish\nof them, not as to things that he has heard nothing of before, nor with\nan head confusedly full of the false notions which he hath sucked in\nfrom the daily tattle of his mother and nurse,--yea, sometimes too of\nhis father and pedant,--who have been wont to speak of rich men as the\nhappy men and mention them always with honor, and to express themselves\nconcerning death and pain with horror, and to look on virtue without\nriches and glory as a thing of nought and not to be desired. Whence it\ncomes to pass, that when such youths first do hear things of a quite\ncontrary nature from philosophers, they are surprised with a kind of\namazement, trouble, and stupid astonishment, which makes them afraid to\nentertain or endure them, except they be dealt with as those who come\nout of very great darkness into the light of the bright sun, that is,\nbe first accustomed for a while to behold those doctrines in fabulous\nauthors, as in a kind of false light, which hath but a moderate\nbrightness and is easy to be looked on and borne without disturbance to\nthe weak sight. For having before heard or read from poets such things\nas these are,--\n\n     Mourn one's birth, as the entrance of all ills;\n     But joy at death, as that which finishes misery;\n\n     Of worldly things a mortal needs but two;\n     A drink of water and the gift of Ceres:\n\n     O tyranny, to barbarous nations dear!\n\n     This in all human happiness is chief,\n     To know as little as we can of grief;\n\nthey are the less disturbed and offended when they hear from\nphilosophers that no man ought to be overconcerned about death; that\nriches are limited to the necessities of nature; that the happiness of\nman's life doth not consist in the abundance of wealth or vastness\nof employments or height of authority and power, but in freedom from\nsorrow, in moderation of passions, and in such a temper of mind as\nmeasures all things by the use of Nature.\n\nWherefore, upon all these accounts, as well as for all the reasons\nbefore mentioned, youth stands in need of good government to manage it\nin the reading of poetry, that being free from all prejudicate opinions,\nand rather instructed beforehand in conformity thereunto, it may with\nmore calmness, friendliness, and familiarity pass from thence to the\nstudy of philosophy.\n\n\nEND OF FOURTEEN------------\n\n\n\n\nABSTRACT OF A COMPARISON BETWEEN ARISTOPHANE AND MENANDER\n\nTo speak in sum and in general, he prefers Menander by far; and as\nto particulars, he adds what here ensues. Aristophanes, he saith, is\nimportune, theatric, and sordid in his expression; but Menander not\nso at all. For the rude and vulgar person is taken with the things the\nformer speaketh; but the well-bred man will be quite out of humor with\nthem. I mean, his opposed terms, his words of one cadence, and his\nderivatives. For the one makes use of these with due observance and\nbut seldom, and bestows care upon them; but the other frequently,\nunseasonably, and frigidly. \"For he is much commended,\" said he, \"for\nducking the chamberlains, they being indeed not chamberlains [Greek\nomitted] but witches.\"[Greek omitted]. And again,--\"This rascal breathes\nout nothing but roguery and sycophanty\"; and \"Smite him well in his\nbelly with the entrails and the guts\"; and, \"By laughing I shall get to\nLaughington [Greek omitted]\"; and, \"Thou poor sharded ostracized pot,\nwhat shall I do with thee?\" and, \"To you women surely he is a mad\nplague, for he was brought up among these mad worts\";--and, \"Look here,\nhow the moths have eaten away my crest\"; and, \"Bring me hither the\ngorgon-backed circle of my shield\"; \"Give me the round-backed circle\nof a cheese-cake\";--and much more of the same kind. (See Aristophanes,\n\"Knights,\" 437, 455; \"Thesmophoriazusae,\" 455; Acharnians,\" 1109,\n1124.) There is then in the structure of his words something tragic and\nsomething comic, something blustering and something low, an obscurity, a\nvulgarness, a turgidness, and a strutting, with a nauseous prattling and\nfooling. And as his style has so great varieties and dissonances in it,\nso neither doth he give to his persons what is fitting and proper\nto each,--as state (for instance) to a prince, force to an orator,\ninnocence to a woman, meanness of language to a poor man, and sauciness\nto a tradesman,--but he deals out to every person, as it were by lot,\nsuch words as come next to his hand, and you would scarce discern\nwhether he be a son a father, a peasant, a god, an old woman, or a hero\nthat is talking.\n\nBut now Menander's phrase is so well turned and contempered with itself,\nand so everywhere conspiring, that, while it traverses many passions and\nhumors and is accommodated to all sorts of persons, it still shows the\nsame, and retains its semblance even in trite, familiar, and everyday\nexpressions. And if his master do now and then require something of rant\nand noise, he doth but (like a skilful flutist) set open all the holes\nof his pipe, and their presently stop them again with good decorum\nand restore the tune to its natural state. And though there be a great\nnumber of excellent artists of all professions, yet never did any\nshoemaker make the same sort of shoe, or tireman the same sort of visor,\nor tailor the same sort of garment, to fit a man, a woman, a child, an\nold man, and a slave. But Menander hath so addressed his style, as to\nproportion it to every sex, condition, and age; and this, though he took\nthe business in hand when he was very young, and died in the vigor of\nhis composition and action, when, as Aristotle tells us, authors receive\nmost and greatest improvement in their styles. If a man shall then\ncompare the middle and last with the first of Menander's plays, he will\nby them easily conceive what others he would have added to them, had he\nhad but longer life.\n\nHe adds further, that of dramatic exhibitors, some address themselves\nto the crowd and populace, and others again to a few; but it is a hard\nmatter to say which of them all knew what was befitting in both the\nkinds. But Aristophanes is neither grateful to the vulgar, nor tolerable\nto the wise; but it fares with his poesy as it doth with a courtesan\nwho, when she finds she is now stricken and past her prime, counterfeits\na sober matron, and then the vulgar cannot endure her affectation, and\nthe better sort abominate her lewdness and wicked nature. But\nMenander hath with his charms shown himself every way sufficient for\nsatisfaction, being the sole lecture, argument, and dispute at theatres,\nschools, and at tables; hereby rendering his poesy the most universal\nornament that was ever produced by Greece, and showing what and how\nextraordinary his ability in language was, while he passes every\nway with an irresistible persuasion, and gains every man's ear and\nunderstanding who has any knowledge of the Greek tongue. And for what\nother reason in truth should a man of parts and erudition be at the\npains to frequent the theatre, but for the sake of Menander only? And\nwhen are the playhouses better filled with men of letters, than when his\ncomic mask is exhibited? And at private entertainments among friends,\nfor whom doth the table more justly make room or Bacchus give place than\nfor Menander? To philosophers also and hard students (as painters are\nwont, when they have tired out their eyes at their work, to divert them\nto certain florid and green colors) Menander is a repose from their\nauditors and intense thinkings, and entertains their minds with gay\nshady meadows refreshed with cool and gentle breezes.\n\nHe adds, moreover, that though this city breeds at this time very many\nand excellent representers of comedy, Menander's plays participate of a\nplenteous and divine salt, as though they were made of the very sea out\nof which Venus herself sprang. But that of Aristophanes is harsh and\ncoarse, and hath in it an angry and biting sharpness. And for my part I\ncannot tell where his so much boasted ability lies, whether in his\nstyle or persons. The parts he acts I am sure are quite overacted and\ndepraved. His knave (for instance) is not fine, but dirty; his peasant\nis not assured, but stupid; his droll is not jocose, but ridiculous; and\nhis lover is not gay, but lewd. So that to me the man seems not to have\nwritten his poesy for any temperate person, but to have intended his\nsmut and obscenity for the debauched and lewd, his invective and satire\nfor the malicious and ill-humored.\n\n\nEND OF FIFTEEN------\n\n\n\n\nTHE MALICE OF HERODOTUS.\n\nThe style, O Alexander, of Herodotus, as being simple, free, and easily\nsuiting itself to its subject, has deceived many; but more, a persuasion\nof his dispositions being equally sincere. For it is not only (as Plato\nsays) an extreme injustice, to make a show of being just when one is not\nso; but it is also the highest malignity, to pretend to simplicity and\nmildness and be in the meantime really most malicious. Now since he\nprincipally exerts his malice against the Boeotians and Corinthians,\nthough without sparing any other, I think myself obliged to defend our\nancestors and the truth against this part of his writings, since those\nwho would detect all his other lies and fictions would have need of many\nbooks. But, as Sophocles has it, the face of persuasion, is prevalent,\nespecially when delivered in the good language, and such as has power\nto conceal both the other absurdities and the ill-nature of the writer.\nKing Philip told the Greeks who revolted from him to Titus Quinctius\nthat they had got a more polished, but a longer lasting yoke. So the\nmalice of Herodotus is indeed more polite and delicate than that\nof Theopompus, yet it pinches closer, and makes a more severe\nimpression,--not unlike to those winds which, blowing secretly through\nnarrow chinks, are sharper than those that are more diffused. Now it\nseems to me very convenient to delineate, as it were, in the rough\ndraught, those signs and marks that distinguish a malicious narration\nfrom a candid and unbiassed one, applying afterwards every point we\nshall examine to such as appertain to them.\n\nFirst then, whoever in relating a story shall use the odious terms\nwhen gentler expressions might do as well, is it not to be esteemed\nimpartial, but an enjoyer of his own fancy, in putting the worst\nconstruction on things; as if any one, instead of saying Nicias is\ntoo superstitious, should call him fanatic, or should accuse Cleon\nof presumption and madness rather than of inconsiderateness in\nspeech.----------Secondly, when a writer, catching hold of a fault which\nhas no reference to his story, shall draw it into the relation of such\naffairs as need it not, extending his narrative with cicumlocutions,\nonly that he may insert a man's misfortune, offence, or discommendable\naction, it is manifest that he delights in speaking evil. Therefore\nThucydides would not clearly relate the faults of Cleon, which were very\nnumerous; and as for Hyperbolus the orator, having touched at him in\na word and called him an ill man, he let him go. Philistus also passed\nover all those outrages committed by Dionysius on the barbarians which\nhad no connection with the Grecian affairs. For the excursions\nand digressions of history are principally allowed for fables and\nantiquities, and sometimes also for encomiums. But he who makes\nreproaches and detractions an addition to his discourse seems to incur\nthe tragedian's curse on the \"collector of men's calamities.\"\n\nNow the opposite to this is known to every one, as the omitting to\nrelate some good and laudable action, which, though it may seem not to\nbe reprehensible, yet is then done maliciously when the omission happens\nin a place that is pertinent to the history. For to praise unwillingly\nis so far from being more civil than to dispraise willingly, that it is\nperhaps rather more uncivil.\n\nThe fourth sign of a partial disposition in writing of history I take\nto be this: When a matter is related in two or more several manners, and\nthe historian shall embrace the worst. Sophisters indeed are permitted,\nfor the obtaining either of profit or reputation, to undertake the\ndefence of the worst cause; for they neither create any firm belief\nof the matter, nor yet do they deny that they are often pleased in\nmaintaining paradoxes and making incredible things appear probable. But\nan historian is then just, when he asserts such things as he knows to be\ntrue, and of those that are uncertain reports rather the better than\nthe worse. Nay, there are many writers who wholly omit the worse. Thus\nEphorus writes of Themistocles, that he was acquainted with the treason\nof Pausanias and his negotiations with the King's lieutenants, but that\nhe neither consented to it, nor hearkened to Pausanias's proffers of\nmaking him partaker of his hopes; and Thucydides left the whole matter\nout of his story, as judging it to be false.\n\nMoreover, in things confessed to have been done, but for doing which\nthe cause and intention is unknown, he who casts his conjectures on the\nworst side is partial and malicious. Thus do the comedians, who affirm\nthe Peloponnesian war to have been kindled by Pericles for the love of\nAspasia or the sake of Phidias, and not through any desire of honor,\nor ambition of pulling down the Peloponnesian pride and giving place\nin nothing to the Lacedaemonians. For those who suppose a bad cause\nfor laudable works and commendable actions, endeavoring by calumnies\nto insinuate sinister suspicions of the actor when they cannot openly\ndiscommend the act,--as they that impute the killing of Alexander the\ntyrant by Theba not to any magnanimity or hatred of vice, but to a\ncertain feminine jealousy and passion, and those that say Cato slew\nhimself for fear Caesar should put him to a more shameful death,--such\nas these are manifestly in the highest degree envious and malicious.\n\nAn historical narration is also more or less guilty of malice, according\nas it relates the manner of the action; as if one should be said to have\nperformed an exploit rather by money than bravery, as some affirm\nof Philip; or else easily and without any labor, as it is said of\nAlexander; or else not by prudence, but by Fortune, as the enemies of\nTimotheus painted cities falling into his nets as he lay sleeping. For\nthey undoubtedly diminish the greatness and beauty of the actions, who\ndeny the performer of them to have done them generously, industriously,\nvirtuously, and by themselves.\n\nMoreover, those who will directly speak ill of any one incur the\nreproach of moroseness, rashness, and madness, unless they keep within\nmeasure. But they who send forth calumnies obliquely, as if they were\nshooting arrows out of corners, and then stepping back think to conceal\nthemselves by saying they do not believe what they most earnestly desire\nto have believed, whilst they disclaim all malice, condemn themselves\nalso of farther disingenuity.\n\nNext to these are they who with their reproaches intermix some praises,\nas did Aristoxenus, who, having termed Socrates unlearned, ignorant,\nand libidinous, added, Yet was he free from injustice. For, as they who\nflatter artificially and craftily sometimes mingle light reprehensions\nwith their many and great praises, joining this liberty of speech as\na sauce to their flattery; so malice, that it may gain belief to its\naccusations, adds also praise.\n\nWe might here also reckon up more notes; but these are sufficient to let\nus understand the nature and manners of Herodotus.\n\nFirst therefore,--beginning, as the proverb is, with Vesta,--whereas\nall the Grecians affirm Io, daughter to Inachus, to have been worshipped\nwith divine honor by the barbarians, and by her glory to have left her\nname to many seas and principal ports, and to have given a source and\noriginal to most noble and royal families; this famous author says of\nher, that she gave herself to certain Phoenician merchants, having been\nnot unwillingly deflowered by a mariner, and fearing lest she should be\nfound by her friends to be with child (Herodotus, i. 5.) And he belies\nthe Phoenicians as having delivered these things of her, and says that\nthe Persian stories testify of her being carried away by the Phoenicians\nwith other women. (Ibid. i. 1.) Presently after, he gives sentence on\nthe bravest and greatest exploits of Greece, saying that the Trojan war\nwas foolishly undertaken for an ill woman. For it is manifest, says he,\nthat had they not been willing they had never been ravished. (Ibid. i.\n4.) Let us then say, that the gods also acted foolishly, in inflicting\ntheir indignation on the Spartans for abusing the daughters of Scedasus\nthe Leuctrian, and in punishing Ajax for the violation of Cassandra.\nFor it is manifest, if we believe Herodotus, that if they had not\nbeen willing they had never been defiled. And yet he himself said that\nAristomenes was taken alive by the Spartans; and the same afterwards\nhappened to Philopoemen, general of the Achaeans; and the Carthaginians\ntook Regulus, the consul of the Romans; than whom there are not easily\nto be found more valiant and warlike men. Nor is it to be wondered,\nsince even leopards and tigers are taken alive by men. But Herodotus\nblames the poor women that have been abused by violence, and patronizes\ntheir ravishers.\n\nNay, he is so favorable to the barbarians, that, acquitting Busiris of\nthose human sacrifices and that slaughter of his guests for which he is\naccused, and attributing by his testimony to the Egyptians much religion\nand justice, he endeavors to cast that abominable wickedness and those\nimpious murders on the Grecians. For in his Second Book he says, that\nMenelaus, having received Helen from Proteus and having been honored by\nhim with many presents, showed himself a most unjust and wicked man; for\nwanting a favorable wind to set sail, he found out an impious device,\nand having taken two of the inhabitants' boys, consulted their entrails;\nfor which villany being hated and persecuted, he fled with his ships\ndirectly into Libya. (See Herodotus, ii. 45.) From what Egyptian this\nstory proceeds, I know not. For, on the contrary, many honors are even\nat this day given by the Egyptians to Helen and Menelaus.\n\nThe same Herodotus, that he may still be like himself, says that the\nPersians learned the defiling of the male sex from the Greeks. (Ibid,\ni. 135.) And yet how could the Greeks have taught this impurity to the\nPersians, amongst whom, as is confessed by many, boys had been castrated\nbefore ever they arrived in the Grecian seas? He writes also, that\nthe Greeks were instructed by the Egyptians in their pomps, solemn\nfestivals, and worship of the twelve gods; that Melampus also learned of\nthe Egyptians the name of Dionysus (or Bacchus) and taught it the other\nGreeks; that the mysteries likewise and rites of Ceres were brought out\nof Egypt by the daughters of Danaus; and that the Egyptians were wont to\nbeat themselves and make great lamentation, but yet he himself refused\nto tell the names of their deities, but concealed them in silence. As to\nHercules and Bacchus, whom the Egyptians named gods, and the Greeks\nvery aged men, he nowhere has such scruples and hesitation; although he\nplaces also the Egyptian Hercules amongst the gods of the second rank,\nand Bacchus amongst those of the third, as having had some beginning\nof their being and not being eternal, and yet he pronounces those to be\ngods; but to the gods Bacchus and Hercules, as having been mortal\nand being now demi-gods, he thinks we ought to perform anniversary\nsolemnities, but not to sacrifice to them as to gods. The same also he\nsaid of Pan, overthrowing the most venerable and purest sacrifices of\nthe Greeks by the proud vanities and mythologies of the Egyptians. (For\nthe passages referred to in this chapter, see Herodotus, ii. 48, 51,\n145, 146, 171.)\n\nNor is this impious enough; but moreover, deriving the pedigree of\nHercules from Perseus, he says that Perseus was an Assyrian, as the\nPersians affirm. \"But the leaders,\" says he, \"of the Dorians may appear\nto be descended in a right line from the Egyptians, reckoning their\nancestors from before Danae and Acrisius.\" (Herodotus, vi. 53, 54.) Here\nhe has wholly passed by Epaphus, Io, Iasus, and Argus, being ambitious\nnot only to make the other Herculeses Egyptians and Phoenicians but to\ncarry this also, whom himself declares to have been the third, out of\nGreece to the barbarians. But of the ancient learned writers, neither\nHomer, nor Hesiod, nor Archilochus, nor Pisander, nor Stesichorus, nor\nAlcman, nor Pindar, makes any mention of the Egyptian or the Phoenician\nHercules, but all acknowledge this our own Boeotian and Argive Hercules.\n\nNow of the seven sages, whom he calls Sophisters, he affirms Thales to\nhave been a barbarian, descended of the Phoenicians. (Ibid, i. 170.)\nSpeaking ill also of the gods under the person of Solon, he has these\nwords: \"Thou, O Croesus, askest me concerning human affairs, who know\nthat every one of the deities envious and tumultuous.\" (Ibid, i. 32.)\nThus attributing to Solon what himself thinks of the gods, he joins\nmalice to blasphemy. Having made use also of Pittacus in some trivial\nmatters, not worth the mentioning, he has passed over the greatest and\ngallantest action that was ever done by him. For when the Athenians and\nMitylenaeans were at war about Sigaeum, Phrynon, the Athenian general,\nchallenging whoever would come forth to a single combat, Pittacus\nadvanced to meet him, and catching him in a net, slew that stout\nand giant-like man; for which when the Mitylaenans offered him great\npresents, darting his javelin as far as he could out of his hand, he\ndesired only so much ground as he should reach with that throw; and the\nplace is to this day called Pittacium. Now what does Herodotus, when he\ncomes to this? Instead of Pittacus's valiant act, he tells us the fight\nof Alcaeus the poet, who throwing away his arms ran out of the battle;\nby thus not writing of honorable deeds and not passing over such as are\ndishonorable, he offers his testimony to those who say, that from one\nand the same malice proceed both envy and a rejoicing at other men's\nharms. (Herodotus v. 95.)\n\nAfter this, he accuses of treason the Alcmaeonidae who showed themselves\ngenerous men, and delivered their country from tyranny. (Ibid. i. 61.)\nHe says, that they received Pisistratus after his banishment and got him\ncalled home, on condition he should marry the daughter of Megacles; but\nthe damsel saying to her mother, Do you see, mother, how I am known by\nPisistratus contrary to nature? The Alcmaeonidae were so offended at\nthis villany, that they expelled the tyrant.\n\nNow that the Lacedaemonians might have no less share of his malice than\nthe Athenians, behold how he bespatters Othryadas, the man most admired\nand honored by them. \"He only,\" says Herodotus, \"remaining alive of the\nthree hundred, and ashamed to return to Sparta, his companions being\nlost, slew himself on the spot at Thyreae.\" (Ibid. i. 82.) For having\nbefore said the victory was doubtful on both sides, he here, by making\nOthryadas ashamed, witnesses that the Lacedaemonians were vanquished.\nFor it was shameful for him to survive, if conquered; but glorious, if\nconqueror.\n\nI pass by now, that having, represented Croesus as foolish,\nvainglorious, and ridiculous in all things, he makes him, when a\nprisoner, to have taught and instructed Cyrus, who seems to have\nexcelled all other kings in prudence, virtue, and magnanimity. (Ibid. i.\n155, 156, 207, 208.) Having testified of the same Croesus nothing else\nthat was commendable but his honoring the gods with many and great\noblations, he shows that very act of his to have been the most impious\nof all. For he says, that he and his brother Pantoleon contended for\nthe kingdom while their father was yet alive; and that Croesus,\nhaving obtained the crown, caused a companion and familiar friend of\nPantoleon's to be torn in pieces in a fulling-mill, and sent presents to\nthe gods from his property. (Ibid. i. 92.) Of Deioces also, the Median,\nwho by virtue and justice obtained the government, he says that he got\nit not by real but pretended justice. (Ibid. i. 96.)\n\nBut I let pass the barbarian examples, since he has offered us plenty\nenough in the Grecian affairs. He says, that the Athenians and many\nother Ionians were so ashamed of that name that they wholly refused to\nbe called Ionians; and that those who esteemed themselves the noblest\namong them, and who had come forth from the very Prytaneum of Athens,\nbegat children on barbarian wives whose parents, husbands, and former\nchildren they had slain; that the women had therefore made a law among\nthemselves, confirmed it by oath, and delivered it to be kept by their\ndaughters, never to eat with their husbands, nor to call any of them by\nhis name; and that the present Milesians are descended from these women.\nHaving afterwards added that those are true Ionians who celebrate the\nfeast called Apaturia; they all, says he, keep it except the Ephesians\nand Colophonians. (Herodotus, i. 143-148.) In this manner does he\ndeprive these two states of their nobility.\n\nHe says moreover, that the Cumaeans and Mitylenaeans agreed with Cyrus\nto deliver up to him for a price Pactyas, who had revolted from him. I\nknow not indeed, says he, for how much; since it is not certain what it\nwas. Bravo!--not to know what it was, and yet to cast such an infamy on\na Grecian city, without an assured knowledge! He says farther, that\nthe Chians took Pactyas, who was brought to them out of the temple of\nMinerva Poliuchus (or Guardianess of the city), and delivered him up,\nhaving received the city Atarneus for their recompense. And yet Charon\nthe Lampsacenian, a more ancient writer, relating this matter concerning\nPactyas, charges neither the Mitylenaeans nor the Chians with any such\naction. These are his very words: \"Pactyas, hearing that the Persian\narmy drew near, fled first to Mitylene, then to Chios, and there fell\ninto the hands of Cyrus.\" (See Herodotus, i. 157. etc.)\n\nOur author in his Third Book, relating the expedition of the\nLacedaemonians against the tyrant Polycrates, affirms, that the Samians\nthink and say that the Spartans, to recompense them for their former\nassistance against the Messenians, both brought back the Samians that\nwere banished, and made war on the tyrant; but that the Lacedaemonians\ndeny this, and say, they undertook this design not to help or deliver\nthe Samians, but to punish them for having taken away a cup sent by them\nto Croesus, and besides, a breastplate sent them by Amasis. (Ibid. iii.\n47, 48.) And yet we know that there was not at that time any city so\ndesirous of honor, or such an enemy to tyrants, as Sparta. For what\nbreastplate or cup was the cause of their driving the Cypselidae out of\nCorinth and Ambracia, Lygdamis out of Naxos, the children of Pisistratus\nout of Athens, Aeschines out of Sicyon, Symmachus out of Thasus, Aulis\nout of Phocis, and Aristogenes out of Miletus; and of their overturning\nthe domineering powers of Thessaly, pulling down Aristomedes and Angelus\nby the help of King Leotychides?--which facts are elsewhere more largely\ndescribed. Now, if Herodotus says true, they were in the highest degree\nguilty both of malice and folly, when, denying a most honorable and most\njust cause of their expedition, they confessed that in remembrance of\na former injury, and too highly valuing an inconsiderable matter, they\ninvaded a miserable and afflicted people.\n\nNow perhaps he gave the Lacedaemonians this stroke, as directly falling\nunder his pen; but the city of Corinth, which was wholly out of the\ncourse of his story, he has brought in--going out of his way (as they\nsay) to fasten upon it--and has bespattered it with a most filthy crime\nand most shameful calumny. \"The Corinthians,\" says he, \"studiously\nhelped this expedition of the Lacedaemonians to Samos, as having\nthemselves also been formerly affronted by the Samians.\" The matter was\nthis. Periander tyrant of Corinth sent three hundred boys, sons to the\nprincipal men of Corcyra, to King Alyattes, to be gelt. These, going\nashore in the island of Samos, were by the Samians taught to sit as\nsuppliants in the temple of Diana, where they preserved them, setting\nbefore them for their food sesame mingled with honey. This our author\ncalls an affront put by the Samians on the Corinthians, who therefore\ninstigated the Lacedaemonians against them, to wit, because the Samians\nhad saved three hundred children of the Greeks from being unmanned.\nBy attributing this villany to the Corinthians, he makes the city more\nwicked than the tyrant. He indeed was revenging himself on those of\nCorcyra who had slain his son; but what had the Corinthians suffered,\nthat they should punish the Samians for putting an obstacle to so great\na cruelty and wickedness?--and this, after three generations, reviving\nthe memory of an old quarrel for the sake of that tyranny, which\nthey found so grievous and intolerable that they are still endlessly\nabolishing all the monuments and marks of it, though long since extinct.\nSuch then was the injury done by the Samians to the Corinthians. Now\nwhat a kind of punishment was it the Corinthians would have inflicted on\nthem? Had they been indeed angry with the Samians, they should not have\nincited the Lacedaemonians, but rather diverted them from their war\nagainst Polycrates, that the Samians might not by the tyrant's overthrow\nrecover liberty, and be freed from their slavery. But (what is most to\nbe observed) why were the Corinthians so offended with the Samians, that\ndesired indeed but were not able to save the Corcyraeans children, and\nyet were not displeased with the Cnidians, who both preserved them and\nrestored them to their friends? Nor indeed have the Corcyraeans any\ngreat esteem for the Samians on this account; but of the Cnidians they\npreserve a grateful recollection, having granted them several honors\nand privileges, and made decrees in their favor. For these, sailing to\nSamos, drove away Periander's guards from the temple, and taking the\nchildren aboard their ships, carried them safe to Corcyra; as it is\nrecorded by Antenor the Cretan, and by Dionysius the Chalcidian in his\nfoundations. Now that the Spartans undertook not this war on any design\nof punishing the Samians, but to save them by delivering them from the\ntyrant, we have the testimony of the Samians themselves. For they affirm\nthat there is in Samos a monument erected at the public charge, and\nhonors there done to Archias a Spartan, who fell fighting valiantly in\nthat quarrel; for which cause also his posterity still keep a familiar\nand friendly correspondence with the Samians, as Herodotus himself\nwitnesses.\n\nIn his Fifth Book, he says, that Clisthenes, one of the best and noblest\nmen in Athens, persuaded the priestess Pythia to be a false prophetess,\nand always to exhort the Lacedaemonians to free Athens from the tyrants;\ncalumniating this most excellent and just action by the imputation of so\ngreat a wickedness and imposture, and taking from Apollo the credit of\nthat true and good prophecy, beseeming even Themis herself, who is also\nsaid to have joined with him. He says farther, that Isagoras prostituted\nhis wife to Cleomenes, who came to her. (Herodotus, v. 63, 70.) Then,\nas his manner is, to gain credit by mixing some praises with his\nreproaches, he says: Isagoras the son of Tisander was of a noble family,\nbut I cannot tell the original of it; his kinsmen, however, sacrifice\nto the Carian Jupiter. (Herodotus, v. 66.) O this pleasant and cunning\nscoffer of a writer, who thus disgracefully sends Isagoras to the\nCarians, as it were to the ravens. As for Aristogiton, he puts him not\nforth at the back door, but thrusts him directly out of the gate into\nPhoenicia, saying that he had his original from the Gephyraeans, and\nthat the Gephyraeans were not, as some think, Euboeans or Eretrians, but\nPhoenicians, as himself has heard by report. (Ibid, v. 58.) And since\nhe cannot altogether take from the Lacedaemonians the glory of having\ndelivered the Athenians from the tyrants, he endeavors to cloud and\ndisgrace that most honorable act by as foul a passion. For he says, they\npresently repented of it, as not having done well, in that they had been\npersuaded by spurious and deceitful oracles to drive the tyrants, who\nwere their allies and had promised to put Athens into their hands, out\nof their country, and had restored the city to an ungrateful people. He\nadds, that they were about to send for Hippias from Sigeum, and bring\nhim back to Athens; but that they were opposed by the Corinthians,\nSosicles telling them how much the city of Corinth had suffered under\nthe tyranny of Cypselus and Periander. (Ibid, v. 90, 91.) And yet there\nwas no outrage of Periander's more abominable and cruel than his sending\nthe three hundred children to be emasculated, for the delivering and\nsaying of whom from that contumely the Corinthians, he says, were angry\nand bore a grudge against the Samians, as having put an affront upon\nthem. With so much repugnance and contradiction is that malice of his\ndiscourse filled, which on every occasion insinuates itself into his\nnarrations.\n\nAfter this, relating the action of Sardis, he, as much as in him lies,\ndiminishes and discredits the matter; being so audacious as to call the\nships which the Athenians sent to the assistance of the Ionians, who had\nrevolted from the King the beginning of evils, because they endeavored\nto deliver so many and so great Grecian cities from the barbarians.\n(Ibid, v. 97.) As to the Eretrians, making mention of them only by the\nway, he passes over in silence a great, gallant, and memorable action of\ntheirs. For when all Ionia was in a confusion and uproar, and the King's\nfleet drew nigh, they, going forth to meet him, overcame in a sea-fight\nthe Cyprians in the Pamphylian Sea. Then turning back and leaving their\nships at Ephesus, they invaded Sardis and besieged Artaphernes, who was\nfled into the castle, that so they might raise the siege of Miletus. And\nthis indeed they effected, causing the enemies to break up their camp\nand remove thence in a wonderful fright, and then seeing themselves in\ndanger to be oppressed by a multitude, retired. This not only others,\nbut Lysanias of Mallus also in his history of Eretria relates, thinking\nit convenient, if for no other reason, yet after the taking and\ndestruction of the city, to add this valiant and heroic act. But this\nwriter of ours says, they were defeated, and pursued even to their ships\nby the barbarians; though Charon the Lampsacenian has no such thing, but\nwrites thus, word for word: \"The Athenians set forth with twenty\ngalleys to the assistance of the Ionians, and going to Sardis, took all\nthereabouts, except the King's wall; which having done, they returned to\nMiletus.\"\n\nIn his Sixth Book, our author, discoursing of the Plataeans,--how they\ngave themselves to the Lacedaemonians, who exhorted them rather to\nhave recourse to the Athenians, who were nearer to them and no bad\ndefenders,--adds, not as a matter of suspicion or opinion, but as a\nthing certainly known by him, that the Lacedaemonians gave the Plataeans\nthis advice, not so much for any goodwill, as through a desire to find\nwork for the Athenians by engaging them with the Boeotians. (Herodotus,\nvi. 108.) If then Herodotus is not malicious, the Lacedaemonians must\nhave been both fraudulent and spiteful; and the Athenians fools, in\nsuffering themselves to be thus imposed on; and the Plataeans were\nbrought into play, not for any good-will or respect, but as an occasion\nof war.\n\nHe is farther manifestly convinced of belying the Lacedaemonians, when\nhe says that, whilst they expected the full moon, they failed of giving\ntheir assistance to the Athenians at Marathon. For they not only made\na thousand other excursions and fights at the beginning of the month,\nwithout staying for the full moon; but wanted so little of being\npresent at this very battle, which was fought the sixth day of the month\nBoedromion, that at their coming they found the dead still lying in the\nfield. And yet he has written thus of the full moon: \"It was impossible\nfor them to do these things at that present, being unwilling to break\nthe law; for it was the ninth of the month, and they said, they could\nnot go forth on the ninth day, the orb of the moon being not yet full.\nAnd therefore they stayed for the full moon.\" (Herodotus, vi. 106.)\nBut thou, O Herodotus, transferest the full moon from the middle to the\nbeginning of the month, and at the same time confoundest the heavens,\ndays, and all things; and yet thou dost claim to be the historian of\nGreece!\n\nAnd professing to write more particularly and carefully of the affairs\nof Athens, thou dost not so much as say a word of that solemn procession\nwhich the Athenians even at this day send to Agrae, celebrating a feast\nof thanksgiving to Hecate for their victory. But this helps Herodotus\nto refel the crime with which he is charged, of having flattered the\nAthenians for a great sum of money he received of them. For if he had\nrehearsed these things to them, they would not have omitted or\nneglected to remark that Philippides, when on the ninth he summoned the\nLacedaemonians to the fight, must have come from it himself, since (as\nHerodotus says) he went in two days from Athens to Sparta; unless the\nAthenians sent for their allies to the fight after their enemies were\novercome. Indeed Diyllus the Athenian, none of the most contemptible\nas an historian, says, that he received from Athens a present of ten\ntalents, Anytus proposing the decree. Moreover Herodotus, as many say,\nhas in relating the fight at Marathon derogated from the credit of\nit, by the number he sets down of the slain. For it is said that the\nAthenians made a vow to sacrifice so many kids to Diana Agrotera, as\nthey should kill barbarians; but that after the fight, the number of the\ndead appearing infinite, they appeased the goddess by making a decree to\nimmolate five hundred to her every year.\n\nBut letting this pass, let us see what was done after the fight. \"The\nbarbarians,\" say he, \"retiring back with the rest of their ships, and\ntaking the Eretrian slaves out of the island, where they had left them,\ndoubled the point of Sunium, desiring to prevent the Athenians before\nthey could gain the city. The Athenians suspected this to have been done\nby a plot of the Alcmaeonidae, who by agreement showed a shield to the\nPersians when they were got into their ships. They therefore doubled\nthe cape of Sunium.\" (Herodotus, vi. 115, 121-124.) Let us in this place\ntake no notice of his calling the Eretrians slaves, who showed as much\ncourage and gallantry in this war as any other of the Grecians, and\nsuffered things unworthy their virtue. Nor let us insist much on the\ncalumny with which he defames the Alcmaeonidae, some of whom were both\nthe greatest families and noblest men of the city. But the greatness\nof the victory itself is overthrown, and the end of that so celebrated\naction comes to nothing, nor does it seem to have been a fight or any\ngreat exploit, but only a light skirmish with the barbarians, as the\nenvious and ill-willers affirm, if they did not after the battle fly\naway, cutting their cables and giving themselves to the wind, to carry\nthem as far as might be from the Attic coast, but having a shield lifted\nup to them as a signal of treason, made straight with their fleet for\nAthens, in hope to surprise it, and having at leisure doubled the point\nof Sunium, were discovered above the port Phalerum, so that the chief\nand most illustrious men, despairing to save the city would have\nbetrayed it. For a little after, acquitting the Alcmaeonidae, he charges\nothers with the treason. \"For the shield indeed was shown, nor can it\nbe denied,\" says he, as if he had seen it himself. But this could no\nway be, since the Athenians obtained a solid victory; and if it had been\ndone, it could not have been seen by the barbarians, flying in a hurry\namidst wounds and arrows into their ships, and leaving every one the\nplace with all possible speed. But when he again pretends to excuse the\nAlcmaeonidae of those crimes which he first of all men objected against\nthem, and speaks thus: \"I cannot credit the report that the Alcmaeonidae\nby agreement would ever have lifted up a shield to the Persians,\nand have brought the Athenians under the power of the barbarians and\nHippias\"; it reminds me of a certain proverbial saving,--Stay and be\ncaught, crab, and I'll let you go. For why art thou so eager to catch\nhim, if thou wilt let him go when he is caught? Thus you first accuse,\nthen apologize; and you write calumnies against illustrious men, which\nagain you refute. And you discredit yourself; for you heard no one\nelse but yourself say that the Alcmaeonidae lifted up a shield to the\nvanquished and flying barbarians. And in those very things which you\nallege for the Alcmaeonidae, you show yourself a sycophant. For if, as\nhere you write, the Alcmaeonidae were more or no less enemies to tyrants\nthan Callias, the son of Phaenippus and father of Hipponicus, where will\nyou place their conspiracy, of which you write in your First Book, that\nassisting Pisistratus they brought him back from exile to the tyranny\nand did not drive him away till he was accused of unnaturally abusing\nhis wife? Such then are the repugnances of these things; and by his\nintermixing the praises of Callias, the son of Phaenippus, amidst the\ncrimes and suspicions of the Alcmaeonidae, and joining to him his son\nHipponicus, who was (as Herodotus himself says) one of the richest men\nin Athens, he confesses that he brought in Callias not for any necessity\nof the story, but to ingratiate himself and gain favor with Hipponicus.\n\nNow, whereas all know that the Argives denied not to enter into the\ncommon league of the Grecians, though they thought not fit to follow\nand be under the command of the Lacedaemonians, who were their mortal\nenemies, and that this was no otherways, our author subjoins a most\nmalicious cause for it, writing thus: \"When they saw they were comprised\nby the Greeks, knowing that the Lacedaemonians would not admit them\ninto a share of the command, they requested it, that they might have a\npretence to lie still.\" \"And of this,\" he says, \"the Argive ambassadors\nafterwards put Artaxerxes in mind, when they attended him at Susa, and\nthe King said, he esteemed no city more his friend than Argos.\" Then\nadding, as his manner is, to cover the matter, he says: \"Of these things\nI know nothing certainly; but this I know, that all men have faults, and\nthat the worst things were not done by the Argives; but I must tell such\nthings as are reported, though I am not bound to believe them all; and\nlet this be understood of all my narrations. For it is farther said\nthat the Argives, when they were not able to sustain the war against\nthe Lacedaemonians, called the Persians into Greece, willing to suffer\nanything rather than the present trouble.\" (Herodotus, vii. 148-152.)\nTherefore, as himself reports the Ethiopian to have said of the ointment\nand purple, \"Deceitful are the beauties, deceitful the garments of\nthe Persians,\" (Herodotus, iii. 22.) may not any one say also of\nhim, Deceitful are the phrases, deceitful the figures of Herodotus's\nspeeches; as being perplexed, unsound, and full of ambiguities? For\nas painters set off and render more eminent the luminous part of their\npictures by adding shadows, so he by his denials extends his calumnies,\nand by his dubious speeches makes his suspicions take deeper impression.\nIf the Argives joined not with the other Greeks, but stood out through\nan emulation of the Lacedaemonians command and valor, it cannot be\ndenied but that they acted in a manner not beseeming their nobility and\ndescent from Hercules. For it had been more honorable for the Argives\nunder the leadership of Siphnians and Cythnians to have defended the\nGrecian liberty, than contending with the Spartans for superiority to\nhave avoided so many and such signal combats. And if it was they\nwho brought the Persians into Greece, because their war against the\nLacedaemonians succeeded ill, how came it to pass, that they did not\nat the coming of Xerxes openly join themselves to the Medes? Or if they\nwould not fight under the King, why did they not, being left at home,\nmake incursions into Laconia or again attempt Thyreae or by some other\nway disturb and infest the Lacedaemonians? For they might have greatly\ndamaged the Grecians, by hindering the Spartans from going with so great\nan army to Plataea.\n\nBut in this place indeed he has highly magnified the Athenians and\npronounced them the saviours of Greece, doing herein rightly and justly,\nif he had not intermixed many reproaches with their praises. But\nnow, when he says (Ibid. vii. 139.) that (but for the Athenians) the\nLacedaemonians would have been betrayed by the other Greeks, and then,\nbeing left alone and having performed great exploits, they would have\ndied generously; or else, having before seen that the Greeks were\nfavoring the Medes, they would have made terms with Xerxes; it is\nmanifest, he speaks not these things to the commendation of the\nAthenians, but he praises the Athenians that he may speak ill of all\nthe rest. For how can any one now be angry with him for so bitterly and\nintemperately upbraiding the Thebans and Phocians at every turn, when he\ncharges even those who exposed themselves to all perils for Greece with\na treason which was never acted, but which (as he thinks) might have\nbeen. Nay, of the Lacedaemonians themselves, he makes it doubtful\nwhether they might have fallen in the battle or have yielded to\nthe enemy, minimizing the proofs of their valor which were shown at\nThermopylae;--and these indeed were small!\n\nAfter this, when he declares the shipwreck that befell the King's fleet,\nand how, an infinite mass of wealth being cast away, Aminocles the\nMagnesian, son of Cresines, was greatly enriched by it, having gotten\nan immense quantity of gold and silver; he could not so much as let this\npass without snarling at it. \"For this man,\" say she, \"who had till then\nbeen none of the most fortunate, by wrecks became exceeding rich; for\nthe misfortune he had in killing his son much afflicted his mind.\"\n(Herodotus, vii. 190.) This indeed is manifest to every one, that he\nbrought this golden treasure and this wealth cast up by the sea into his\nhistory, that he might make way for the inserting Aminocles's killing\nhis son.\n\nNow Aristophanes the Boeotian wrote, that Herodotus demanded money of\nthe Thebans but received none and that going about to discourse and\nreason with the young men, he was prohibited by the magistrates through\ntheir clownishness and hatred of learning; of which there is no other\nargument. But Herodotus bears witness to Aristophanes, whilst he charges\nthe Thebans with some things falsely, with others ignorantly, and with\nothers as hating them and having a quarrel with them. For he affirms\nthat the Thessalians at first upon necessity inclined to the Persians,\n(Ibid, vii. 172.) in which he says the truth; and prophesying of the\nother Grecians that they would betray the Lacedaemonians, he added, that\nthey would not do it willingly, but upon necessity, one city being\ntaken after another. But he does not allow the Thebans the same plea\nof necessity, although they sent to Tempe five hundred men under the\ncommand of Mnamias, and to Thermopylae as many as Leonidas desired, who\nalso alone with the Thespians stood by him, the rest leaving him after\nhe was surrounded. But when the barbarian, having possessed himself of\nthe avenues, was got into their confines, and Demaratus the Spartan,\nfavoring in right of hospitality Attaginus, the chief of the oligarchy,\nhad so wrought that he became the King's friend and familiar, whilst the\nother Greeks were in their ships, and none came on by land; then at last\nbeing forsaken did they accept conditions of peace, to which they were\ncompelled by great necessity. For they had neither the sea and ships at\nhand, as had the Athenians; nor did they dwell far off, as the Spartans,\nwho inhabited the most remote parts of Greece; but were not above a day\nand half's journey from the Persian army, whom they had already with the\nSpartans and Thespians alone resisted at the entrance of the straits,\nand were defeated.\n\nBut this writer is so equitable, that having said, \"The Lacedaemonians,\nbeing alone and deserted by their allies, would perhaps have made a\ncomposition with Xerxes,\" he yet blames the Thebans, who were forced\nto the same act by the same necessity. But when he could not wholly\nobliterate this most great and glorious act of the Thebans, yet went he\nabout to deface it with a most vile imputation and suspicion, writing\nthus: \"The confederates who had been sent returned back, obeying the\ncommands of Leonidas; there remained only with the Lacedaemonians the\nThespians and the Thebans: of these, the Thebans stayed against their\nwills, for Leonidas retained them as hostages; but the Thespians most\nwillingly, as they said they would never depart from Leonidas and those\nthat were with him.\" (Herodotus, vii. 222.) Does he not here manifestly\ndiscover himself to have a peculiar pique and hatred against the\nThebans, by the impulse of which he not only falsely and unjustly\ncalumniated the city, but did not so much as take care to render his\ncontradiction probable, or to conceal, at least from a few men, his\nbeing conscious of having knowingly contradicted himself? For having\nbefore said that Leonidas, perceiving his confederates not to be in good\nheart nor prepared to undergo danger, wished them to depart, he a little\nafter adds that the Thebans were against their wills detained by him;\nwhereas, if he had believed them inclined to the Persians, he should\nhave driven them away though they had been willing to tarry. For if he\nthought that those who were not brisk would be useless, to what purpose\nwas it to mix among his soldiers those that were suspected? Nor was the\nking of the Spartans and general of all Greece so senseless as to think\nthat four hundred armed Thebans could be detained as hostages by his\nthree hundred, especially the enemy being both in his front and rear.\nFor though at first he might have taken them along with him as hostages;\nit is certainly probable that at last, having no regard for him, they\nwould have gone away from him, and that Leonidas would have more feared\nhis being encompassed by them than by the enemy. Furthermore, would not\nLeonidas have been ridiculous, to have sent away the other Greeks, as\nif by staying they should soon after have died, and to have detained\nthe Thebans, that being himself about to die, he might keep them for the\nGreeks? For if he had indeed carried them along with him for hostages,\nor rather for slaves, he should not have kept them with those that were\nat the point of perishing, but have delivered them to the Greeks that\nwent away. There remained but one cause that might be alleged for\nLeonidas's unwillingness to let them go, to wit, that they might die\nwith him; and this our historian himself has taken away, writing thus of\nLeonidas's ambition: \"Leonidas, considering these things, and desirous\nthat this glory might redound to the Spartans alone, sent away his\nconfederates rather for this than because they differed in their\nopinions.\" (Herodotus, vii. 220.) For it had certainly been the height\nof folly to keep his enemies against their wills, to be partakers of\nthat glory from which he drove away his confederates. But it is\nmanifest from the effects, that Leonidas suspected not the Thebans\nof insincerity, but esteemed them to be his steadfast friends. For he\nmarched with his army into Thebes, and at his request obtained that\nwhich was never granted to any other, to sleep within the temple of\nHercules; and the next morning he related to the Thebans the vision that\nhad appeared to him. For he imagined that he saw the most illustrious\nand greatest cities of Greece irregularly tossed and floating up and\ndown on a very stormy and tempestuous sea; that Thebes, being carried\nabove all the rest, was lifted up on high to heaven, and suddenly after\ndisappeared. And this indeed had a resemblance of those things which\nlong after befell that city.\n\nNow Herodotus, in his narration of that fight, hath obscured also the\nbravest act of Leonidas, saying that they all fell in the straits near\nthe hill. (Herodotus, vii. 225.) But the affair was otherwise managed.\nFor when they perceived by night that they were encompassed by the\nbarbarians, they marched straight to the enemies' camp, and got very\nnear the King's pavilion, with a resolution to kill him and leave their\nlives about him. They came then to his tent, killing or putting to\nflight all they met; but when Xerxes was not found there, seeking him\nin that vast camp and wandering about, they were at last with much\ndifficulty slain by the barbarians, who surrounded them on every side.\nWhat other acts and sayings of the Spartans Herodotus has omitted, we\nwill write in the Life of Leonidas; yet that hinders not but we may\nhere set down also some few. Before Leonidas went forth to that war, the\nSpartans exhibited to him funeral spectacles, at which the fathers and\nmothers of those that went along with him were spectators. Leonidas\nhimself, when one said to him, You lead very few with you to the battle,\nanswered, There are many to die there. When his wife, at his departure,\nasked him what commands he had for her; he, turning to her, said, I\ncommand you to marry a good man, and bring him good children. After he\nwas enclosed by the enemy at Thermopylae, desiring to save two that were\nrelated to him, he gave one of them a letter and sent him away; but\nhe rejected it, saying angrily, I followed you as a soldier, not as a\npostman. The other he commanded to go on a message to the magistrates\nof Sparta; but he, answering, that is a messenger's business, took his\nshield, and stood up in his rank. Who would not have blamed another that\nshould have omitted these things? But he who has collected and recorded\nthe fart of Amasis, the coming of the thief's asses, and the giving of\nbottles, and many such like things, cannot seem to have omitted these\ngallant acts and these remarkable sayings by negligence and oversight,\nbut as bearing ill-will and being unjust to some.\n\nHe says that the Thebans, being at the first with the Greeks, fought\ncompelled by necessity. (Ibid, vii. 233.) For belike not only Xerxes,\nbut Leonidas also, had whipsters following his camp, by whom the Thebans\nwere scourged and forced against their wills to fight. And what more\nruthless libeller could there be than Herodotus, when he says that they\nfought upon necessity, who might have gone away and fled, and that they\ninclined to the Persians, whereas not one came in to help them. After\nthis, he writes that, the rest making to the hill, the Thebans separated\nthemselves from them, lifted up their hands to the barbarian, and coming\nnear, cried with a most true voice, that they had favored the Persians,\nhad given earth and water to the King, that now being forced by\nnecessity they were come to Thermopylae, and that they were innocent of\nthe King's wound. Having said these things, they obtained quarter; for\nthey had the Thessalians for witnesses of all they said. Behold, how\namidst the barbarians, exclamations, tumults of all sorts, flights\nand pursuits, their apology was heard, the witnesses examined; and the\nThessalians, in the midst of those that were slain and trodden under\nfoot, all being done in a very narrow passage, patronized the Thebans,\nto wit, because the Thebans had but a little before driven away them,\nwho were possessed of all Greece as far as, Thespiae, having conquered\nthem in a battle, and slain their leader Lattamyas! For thus at that\ntime stood matters between the Boeotians and the Thessalians, without\nany friendship or good-will. But yet how did the Thebans escape, the\nThessalians helping them with their testimonies? Some of them, says he,\nwere slain by the barbarians; many of them were by command of Xerxes\nmarked with the royal mark, beginning with their leader Leontiades.\nNow the captain of the Thebans at Thermopylae was not Leontiades,\nbut Anaxander, as both Aristophanes, out of the Commentaries of the\nMagistrates, and Nicander the Colophonian have taught us. Nor did any\nman before Herodotus know that the Thebans were stigmatized by Xerxes;\nfor otherwise this would have been an excellent plea for them against\nhis calumny, and this city might well have gloried in these marks, that\nXerxes had punished Leonidas and Leontiades as his greatest enemies,\nhaving outraged the body of the one when he was dead, and caused the\nother to be tormented whilst living. But as to a writer who makes the\nbarbarian's cruelty against Leonidas when dead a sign that he hated him\nmost of all men when living, (Herodotus, vii. 238.) and yet says that\nthe Thebans, though favoring the Persians, were stigmatized by them at\nThermopylae, and having been thus stigmatized, again cheerfully took\ntheir parts at Plataea, it seems to me that such a man--like that\nHippoclides (See Herodotus, vi. 126-130.) who gesticulating with his\nlimbs by standing on his head on a table--would dance away the truth and\nsay, It makes no difference to Herodotus.\n\nIn the Eighth Book our author says, that the Greeks being frighted\ndesigned to fly from Artemisium into Greece, and that, being requested\nby the Euboeans to stay a little till they could dispose of their wives\nand families, they regarded them not, till such time as Themistocles,\nhaving taken money of them, divided it between Eurybiades and Adimantus,\nthe captain of the Corinthians, and that then they stayed and had a\nsea-fight with the barbarians (Ibid. viii. 4.) Yet Pindar, who was not a\ncitizen of any of the confederate cities, but of one that was suspected\nto take part with the Medians, having made mention of Artemisium, brake\nforth into this exclamation: \"This is the place where the sons of the\nAthenians laid the glorious foundation of liberty.\" But Herodotus, by\nwhom, as some will have it, Greece is honored, makes that victory a\nwork of bribery and theft, saying that the Greeks, deceived by their\ncaptains, who had to that end taken money, fought against their wills.\nNor does he here put an end to his malice. All men in a manner confess\nthat, although the Greeks got the better at sea, they nevertheless\nabandoned Artemisium to the barbarians after they had received the news\nof the overthrow at Thermopylae. For it was to no purpose for them to\nstay there and keep the sea, the war being already within Thermopylae,\nand Xerxes having possessed himself of the avenues. But Herodotus makes\nthe Greeks contriving to fly before they heard anything of Leonidas's\ndeath. For thus he says: \"But they having been ill-treated, and\nespecially the Athenians, half of whose ships were sorely shattered,\nconsulted to take their flight into Greece.\" (Ibid. viii. 18.) But let\nhim be permitted so to name (or rather reproach) this retreat of theirs\nbefore the fight; but having before called it a flight, he both now\nstyles it a flight, and will again a little after term it a flight; so\nbitterly does he adhere to this word \"flight.\" \"Presently after this,\"\nsays he, \"there came to the barbarians in the pinnace a man of Hestiaea,\nwho acquainted them with the flight of the Grecians from Artemisium.\nThey, because the thing seemed incredible, kept the messenger in\ncustody, and sent forth some light galleys to discover the truth.\"\n(Herodotus, viii. 23.) But what is this you say? That they fled as\nconquered, whom the enemies after the fight could not believe to have\nfled, as having got much the better? Is then this a fellow fit to be\nbelieved when he writes of any man or city, who in one word deprives\nGreece of the victory, throws down the trophy, and pronounces the\ninscriptions they had set up to Diana Proseoa (EASTWARD-FACING) to be\nnothing but pride and vain boasting? The tenor of the inscription was as\nfollows:--\n\n     When Athens youth had in a naval fight\n     All Asia's forces on this sea o'verthrown,\n     And all the Persian army put to flight,\n     Than which a greater scare was ever known,\n     To show how much Diana they respected,\n     This trophy to her honor they erected.\n\nMoreover, not having described any order of the Greeks, nor told us what\nplace every city of theirs held during the sea-fight, he says that in\nthis retreat, which he calls their flight, the Corinthians sailed first\nand the Athenians last. (Ibid. viii, 21.)\n\nHe indeed ought not to have too much insulted over the Greeks that took\npart with the Persians, who, being by others thought a Thurian, reckons\nhimself among the Halicarnassians, who, being Dorians by descent, went\nwith their wives and children to the war against the Greeks. But he\nis so far from giving first an account of the straits they were in who\nrevolted to the Persians, that, having related how the Thessalians sent\nto the Phocians, who were their mortal enemies, and promised to preserve\ntheir country free from all damage if they might receive from them a\nreward of fifty talents, he writ thus of the Phocians: \"For the Phocians\nwere the only people in these quarters who inclined not to the Persians,\nand that, as far as I upon due consideration can find, for no other\nreason but because they hated the Thessalians; for if the Thessalians\nhad been affected to the Grecian affairs, I suppose the Phocians would\nhave joined themselves to the Persians.\" And yet, a little after he\nwould say that thirteen cities of the Phocians were burned by the\nbarbarians, their country laid waste, and the temple which was in Abae\nset on fire, and all of both sexes put to the sword, except those that\nby flight escaped to Parnassus. (Herodotus, viii. 30-33. Compare ix.\n17.) Nevertheless, he puts those who suffered all extremities\nrather than lose their honesty in the same rank with those who most\naffectionately sided with the Persians. And when he could not blame the\nPhocians actions, writing at his desk invented false causes and got up\nsuspicions against them, and bids us judge them not by what they did,\nbut by what they would have done if the Thessalians had not taken the\nsame side, as if they had been prevented from treason because they found\nthe place already occupied by others! Now if any one, going about to\nexcuse the revolt of the Thessalians to the Persians, should say\nthat they would not have done it but for the hatred they bare the\nPhocians,--whom when they saw joined to the Greeks, they against their\ninclinations followed the party of the Persians,--would not such a one\nbe thought most shamefully to flatter, and for the sake of others to\npervert the truth, by reigning good causes for evil actions? Indeed, I\nthink, he would. Why then would not he be thought openly to calumniate,\nwho says that the Phocians chose the best, not for the love of virtue,\nbut because they saw the Thessalians on the contrary side? For neither\ndoes he refer this device to other authors, as he is elsewhere wont\nto do, but says that himself found it out by conjecture. He should\ntherefore have produced certain arguments, by which he was persuaded\nthat they, who did things like the best, followed the same counsels\nwith the worst. For what he alleges of their hatreds is ridiculous. For\nneither did the difference between the Aeginetans and the Athenians, nor\nthat between the Chalcidians and the Eretrians, nor yet that between the\nCorinthians and the Megarians, hinder them from fighting together for\nGreece. Nor did the Macedonians, their most bitter enemies, turn the\nThessalians from their friendship with the barbarians, by joining\nthe Persian party themselves. For the common danger did so bury their\nprivate grudges, that banishing their other passions, they applied their\nminds either to honesty for the sake of virtue, or to profit through the\nimpulse of necessity. And indeed, after that necessity which compelled\nthem to obey the Persians was over, they returned again to the Greeks,\nas Lacrates the Spartan has openly testified of them. And Herodotus, as\nconstrained to it, in his relation of the affairs at Plataea, confessed\nthat the Phocians took part with the Greeks. (Herodotus, ix. 31.)\n\nNeither ought it to seem strange to any, if he thus bitterly inveighs\nagainst the unfortunate; since he reckons amongst enemies and traitors\nthose who were present at the engagement, and together with the other\nGreeks hazarded their safety. For the Naxians, says he, sent three\nships to the assistance of the barbarians; but Democritus, one of their\ncaptains, persuaded the others to take the party of the Greeks. (Ibid.\nviii. 46.) So unable he is to praise without dispraising, that if he\ncommends one man he must condemn a whole city or people. But in\nthis there give testimony against him, of the more ancient writers\nHellanicus, and of the later Ephorus, one of which says that the Naxians\ncame with six ships to aid the Greeks, and the other with five. And\nHerodotus convinces himself of having feigned these things. For the\nwriters of the Naxian annals say, that they had before beaten back\nMegabates, who came to their island with two hundred ships, and after\nthat had put to flight the general Datis who had set their city on fire.\nNow if, as Herodotus has elsewhere said, the barbarians burned their\ncity so that the men were glad to save themselves by flying into the\nmountains, had they not just cause rather to send aid to the destroyers\nof their country than to help the protectors of the common liberty?\nBut that he framed this lie not so much to honor Democritus, as to cast\ninfamy on the Naxians, is manifest from his omitting and wholly passing\nover in silence the valiant acts then performed by Democritus, of which\nSimonides gives us an account in this epigram:--\n\n     When as the Greeks at sea the Medes did meet,\n     And had near Salamis a naval fight,\n     Democritus as third led up the fleet,\n     Charging the enemy with all his might;\n     He took five of their ships, and did another,\n     Which they had taken from the Greeks, recover.\n\nBut why should any one be angry with him about the Naxians? If we have,\nas some say, antipodes inhabiting the other hemisphere, I believe that\nthey also have heard of Themistocles and his counsel, which he gave\nto the Greeks, to fight a naval battle before Salamis, on which, the\nbarbarian being overcome, he built in Melite a temple to Diana the\nCounsellor. This gentle writer, endeavoring, as much as in him lies, to\ndeprive Themistocles of the glory of this, and transfer it to another,\nwrites thus word for word: \"Whilst things were thus, Mnesiphilus, an\nAthenian, asked Themistocles, as he was going aboard his ship, what had\nbeen resolved on in council. And being answered, that it was decreed\nthe ships should be brought back to Isthmus, and a battle fought at sea\nbefore Peloponnesus; he said, If then they remove the navy from Salamis,\nyou will no longer be fighting for one country for they will return\nevery one to his own city. Wherefore, if there be any way left, go and\nendeavor to break this resolution; and, if it be possible, persuade\nEurybiades to change his mind and stay here.\" Then adding that this\nadvice pleased Themistocles, who, without making any reply, went\nstraight to Eurybiades, he has these very expressions: \"And sitting by\nhim he related what he had heard from Mnesiphilus, feigning as if it\ncame from himself, and adding other things.\" (Herodotus, viii. 57, 58.)\nYou see how he accuses Themistocles of disingenuity in arrogating to\nhimself the counsel of Mnesiphilus.\n\nAnd deriding the Greeks still further, he says, that Themistocles, who\nwas called another Ulysses for his wisdom, was so blind that he could\nnot foresee what was fit to be done; but that Artemisia, who was of the\nsame city with Herodotus, without being taught by any one, but by her\nown consideration, said thus to Xerxes: \"The Greeks will not long be\nable to hold out against you, but you will put them to flight, and they\nwill retire to their own cities; nor is it probable, if you march your\narmy by land to Peloponnesus, that they will sit still, or take care\nto fight at sea for the Athenians. But if you make haste to give them\na naval battle, I fear lest your fleets receiving damage may prove\nalso very prejudicial to your land-forces.\" (Ibid. viii. 68.) Certainly\nHerodotus wanted nothing but verses to make Artemisia another Sibyl, so\nexactly prophesying of things to come. Therefore Xerxes also delivered\nhis sons to her to be carried to Ephesus for he had (it seems) forgot to\nbring women with him from Susa, if indeed the children wanted a train of\nfemale attendants.\n\nBut it is not our design to search into the lies of Herodotus; we only\nmake inquiry into those which he invented to detract from the glory\nof others. He says: \"It is reported by the Athenians that Adimantus,\ncaptain of the Corinthians, when the enemies were now ready to join\nbattle, was struck with such fear and astonishment that he fled; not\nthrusting his ship backward by the stern, or leisurely retreating\nthrough those that were engaged, but openly hoisting up his sails, and\nturning the heads of all his vessels. And about the farther part of the\nSalaminian coast, he was met by a pinnace, out of which one spake thus\nto him: Thou indeed, Adimantus, fliest, having betrayed the Grecians;\nyet they overcome, and according to their desires have the better of\ntheir enemies.\" (Herodotus, viii. 94.) This pinnace was certainly let\ndown from heaven. For what should hinder him from erecting a tragical\nmachine, who by his boasting excelled the tragedians in all other\nthings? Adimantus then crediting him (he adds) \"returned to the fleet,\nwhen the business was already done.\" \"This report,\" says he, \"is\nbelieved by the Athenians; but the Corinthians deny it, and say, they\nwere the first at the sea-fight, for which they have the testimony of\nall the other Greeks.\" Such is this man in many other places. He spreads\ndifferent calumnies and accusations of different men, that he may not\nfail of making some one appear altogether wicked. And it has succeeded\nwell with him in this place; for if the calumny is believed, the\nCorinthians--if it is not, the Athenians--are rendered infamous. But in\nreality the Athenians did not belie the Corinthians, but he hath belied\nthem both. Certainly Thucydides, bringing in an Athenian ambassador\ncontesting with a Corinthian at Sparta, and gloriously boasting of many\nthings about the Persian war and the sea-fight at Salamis, charges not\nthe Corinthians with any crime of treachery or leaving their station.\nNor was it likely the Athenians should object any such thing against\nCorinth, when they saw her engraven in the third place after the\nLacedaemonians and themselves on those spoils which, being taken from\nthe barbarians, were consecrated to the gods. And in Salamis they had\npermitted them to bury the dead near the city, as being men who had\nbehaved themselves gallantly, and to write over them this elegy:--\n\n     Well-watered Corinth, stranger, was our home;\n       Salamis, Ajax's isle, is now our grave;\n     Here Medes and Persians and Phoenician ships\n       We fought and routed, sacred Greece to save.\n\nAnd their honorary sepulchre at the Isthmus has on it this epitaph:--\n\n     When Greece upon the point of danger stood,\n     We fell, defending her with our life-blood.\n\nMoreover, on the offerings of Diodorus, one of the Corinthian\nsea-captains, reserved in the temple of Latona, there is this\ninscription:--\n\n     Diodorus's seamen to Latona sent\n     These arms, of hostile Medes the monument\n\nAnd as for Adimantus himself, against whom Herodotus frequently\ninveighs,--saying, that he was the only captain who went about to fly\nfrom Artemisium, and would not stay the fight,--behold in how great\nhonor he is:--\n\n     Here Adimantus rests: the same was he,\n     Whose counsels won for Greece the crown of liberty.\n\nFor neither is it probable, that such honor would have been shown to a\ncoward and a traitor after his decease; nor would he have dared to give\nhis daughters the names of Nausinica, Acrothinius, and Alexibia, and\nhis son that of Aristeas, if he had not performed some illustrious and\nmemorable action in that fight. Nor is it credible that Herodotus was\nignorant of that which could not be unknown even to the meanest Carian,\nthat the Corinthian women alone made that glorious and divine prayer, by\nwhich they besought the Goddess Venus to inspire their husbands with\na love of fighting against the barbarians. For it was a thing divulged\nabroad, concerning which Simonides made an epigram to be inscribed on\nthe brazen image set up in that temple of Venus which is said to have\nbeen founded by Medea, when she desired the goddess, as some affirm, to\ndeliver her from loving her husband Jason, or, as others say, to free\nhim from loving Thetis. The tenor of the epigram follows:--\n\n     For those who, fighting on their country's side,\n     Opposed th' imperial Mede's advancing tide,\n     We, votaresses, to Cythera pray'd;\n     Th' indulgent power vouchsafed her timely aid,\n     And kept the citadel of Hellas free\n     From rude assaults of Persia's archery.\n\nThese things he should rather have written and recorded, than have\ninserted Aminocles's killing of his son.\n\nAfter he had abundantly satisfied himself with the accusations brought\nagainst Themistocles,--of whom he says that, unknown to the other\ncaptains, he incessantly robbed and spoiled the islands,--(Herodotus,\nviii. 112.) he at length openly takes away the crown of victory from the\nAthenians, and sets it on the head of the Aeginetans, writing thus: \"The\nGreeks having sent the first-fruits of their spoils to Delphi, asked in\ngeneral of the god, whether he had a sufficient part of the booty and\nwere contented with it. He answered, that he had enough of all the other\nGreeks, but not of the Aeginetans for he expected a donary of them, as\nhaving won the greatest honor in the battle at Salamis.\" (Ibid. viii.\n122.) See here how he attributes not his fictions to the Scythians, to\nthe Persians, or to the Egyptians, as Aesop did his to the ravens and\napes; but using the very person of the Pythian Apollo, he takes from\nAthens the chief honor of the battle at Salamis. And the second place\nin honor being given to Themistocles at the Isthmus by all the other\ncaptains,--every one of which attributed to himself the first degree of\nvalor, but give the next to Themistocles,--and the judgment not coming\nto a determination, when he should have reprehended the ambition of\nthe captains, he said, that all the Greeks weighed anchor from thence\nthrough envy, not being willing to give the chief honor of the victory\nto Themistocles. (Ibid. viii. 123, 124.)\n\nIn his ninth and last book, having nothing left to vent his malice on\nbut the Lacedaemonians and their glorious action against the barbarians\nat Plataea, he writes, that the Spartans at first feared lest the\nAthenians should suffer themselves to be persuaded by Mardonius to\nforsake the other Greeks; but that now, the Isthmus being fortified,\nthey, supposing all to be safe at Peloponnesus, slighted the rest,\nfeasting and making merry at home, and deluding and delaying the\nAthenian ambassadors. (Herodotus, ix. 8. See also viii. 141.) How then\ndid there go forth from Sparta to Plataea a thousand and five men,\nhaving every one of them with him seven Helots? Or how came it that,\nexposing themselves to so many dangers, they vanquished and overthrew\nso many thousand barbarians? Hear now his probable cause of it. \"It\nhappened,\" says he, \"that there was then at Sparta a certain stranger of\nTegea, named Chileus, who had some friends amongst the Ephori, between\nwhom and him there was mutual hospitality. He then persuaded them to\nsend forth the army, telling them that the fortification on the Isthmus,\nby which they had fenced in Peloponnesus, would be of no avail if the\nAthenians joined themselves with Mardonius.\" (Ibid. ix. 9.) This\ncounsel then drew Pausanias with his army to Plataea; but if any\nprivate business had kept that Chileus at Tegea, Greece had never been\nvictorious.\n\nAgain, not knowing what to do with the Athenians, he tosses to and fro\nthat city, sometimes extolling it, and sometimes debasing it. He says\nthat, contending for the second place with the Tegeatans they made\nmention of the Heraclidae, alleged their acts against the Amazons,\nand the sepulchres of the Peloponnesians that died under the walls\nof Cadmea, and at last brought down their discourse to the battle of\nMarathon, saying, however, that they would be satisfied with the command\nof the left wing. (Ibid. ix. 26, 27.) A little after, he says, Pausanias\nand the Spartans yielded them the first place, desiring them to fight in\nthe right wing against the Persians and give them the left, who excused\nthemselves as not skilled in fighting against the barbarians. (Ibid. ix.\n46.) Now it is a ridiculous thing, to be unwilling to fight against an\nenemy unless one has been used to him. But he says farther, that the\nother Greeks being led by their captains to encamp in another place, as\nsoon as they were moved, the horse fled with joy towards Plataea, and\nin their flight came as far as Juno's temple. (Ibid. ix. 52.) In\nwhich place indeed he charges them all in general with disobedience,\ncowardice, and treason. At last he says, that only the Lacedaemonians\nand the Tegeates fought with the barbarians, and the Athenians with the\nThebans; equally defrauding all the other cities of their part in the\nhonor of the victory, whilst he affirms that none of them joined in\nthe fight, but that all of them, sitting still hard by in their arms,\nbetrayed and forsook those who fought for them; that the Phliasians and\nMegarians indeed, when they heard Pausanias had got the better, came\nin later, and falling on the Theban horse, were all cut off; that the\nCorinthians were not at the battle, and that after the victory, by\nhastening on over the hills, they escaped the Theban cavalry. (See\nthe account of the battle of Plataea, Herodotus, ix, 59-70.) For the\nThebans, after the barbarians were overthrown, going before with their\nhorse, affectionately assisted them in their flight; to return them\nthanks (forsooth) for the marks they had stigmatized them with at\nThermopylae! Now what rank the Corinthians had in the fight at Plataea\nagainst the barbarians, and how they performed their duty, you may hear\nfrom Simonides in these verses:\n\n     I' th' midst were men, in warlike feats excelling,\n     Who Ephyre full of springs, inhabited,\n     And who in Corinth, Glaucus' city, dwelling,\n     Great praise by their great valor merited;\n     Of which they to perpetuate the fame,\n     To th' gods of well-wrought gold did offerings frame.\n\nFor he wrote not these things, as one that taught at Corinth or that\nmade verses in honor of the city, but only as recording these actions\nin elegiac verses. But Herodotus, whilst he desires to prevent that\nobjection by which those might convince him of lying who should ask,\nWhence then are so many mounts, tombs, and monuments of the dead, at\nwhich the Plataeans, even to this day, celebrate funeral solemnities in\nthe presence of the Greeks?--has charged, unless I am mistaken, a fouler\ncrime than that of treason on their posterity. For these are his words:\n\"As for the other sepulchres that are seen in Plataea, I have heard that\ntheir successors, being ashamed of their progenitors' absence from this\nbattle, erected every man a monument for posterity's sake.\" (Herodotus,\nix. 85.) Of this treacherous deserting the battle Herodotus was the\nonly man that ever heard. For if any Greeks withdrew themselves from\nthe battle, they must have deceived Pausanias, Aristides, the\nLacedaemonians, and the Athenians. Neither yet did the Athenians exclude\nthe Aeginetans who were their adversaries from the inscription, nor\nconvince the Corinthians of having fled from Salamis before the victory,\nGreece bearing witness to the contrary. Indeed Cleadas, a Plataean,\nten years after the Persian war, to gratify, as Herodotus says, the\nAeginetans, erected a mount bearing their name. Now came it then to pass\nthat the Athenians and Lacedaemonians, who were so jealous of each other\nthat they were presently after the war ready to go together by the ears\nabout the setting up a trophy, did not yet repel those Greeks who fled\nin a fear from the battle from having a share in the honor of those that\nbehaved themselves valiantly, but inscribed their names on the trophies\nand colossuses, and granted them part of the spoils? Lastly they set up\nan altar, on which was engraven this epigram:\n\n     The Greeks, by valor having put to flight\n     The Persians and preserved their country's right,\n     Erected here this altar which you see,\n     To Jove, preserver of their liberty.\n\nDid Cleadas, O Herodotus, or some other, write this also, to oblige the\ncities by flattery? What need had they then to employ fruitless labor in\ndigging up the earth, to make tombs and erect monuments for posterity's\nsake, when they saw their glory consecrated in the most illustrious\nand greatest donaries? Pausanias, indeed, when he was aspiring to the\ntyranny, set up this inscription in Delphi:--\n\n     Pausanias, of Greeks the general\n     When he the Medes in fight had overthrown,\n     Offered to Phoebus a memorial\n     Of victory, this monumental stone.\n\nIn which he gave the glory to the Greeks, whose general he professed\nhimself to be. Yet the Greeks not enduring but utterly misliking it, the\nLacedaemonians, sending to Delphi, caused this to be cut out, and the\nnames of the cities, as it was fit, to be engraven instead of it. Now\nhow is it possible that the Greeks should have been offended that\nthere was no mention made of them in the inscription, if they had\nbeen conscious to themselves of deserting the fight? or that the\nLacedaemonians would have erased the name of their leader and general,\nto insert deserters and such as withdrew themselves from the common\ndanger? For it would have been a great indignity, that Sophanes,\nAeimnestus, and all the rest who showed their valor in that fight,\nshould calmly suffer even the Cythnians and Melians to be inscribed on\nthe trophies; and that Herodotus, attributing that fight only to three\ncities, should raze all the rest out of those and other sacred monuments\nand donaries.\n\nThere having been then four fights with the barbarians; he says, that\nthe Greeks fled from Artemisium; that, whilst their king and general\nexposed himself to danger at Thermopylae, the Lacedaemonians sat\nnegligent at home, celebrating the Olympian and Carnean feasts; and\ndiscoursing of the action at Salamis, he uses more words about Artemisia\nthan he does in his whole narrative of the naval battle. Lastly, he\nsays, that the Greeks sat still at Plataea, knowing no more of the\nfight, till it was over, than if it had been a skirmish between mice and\nfrogs (like that which Pigres, Artemisia's fellow countryman, merrily\nand scoffingly related in a poem), and it had been agreed to\nfight silently, lest they should be heard by others; and that the\nLacedaemonians excelled not the barbarians in valor, but only got the\nbetter, as fighting against naked and unarmed men. To wit, when Xerxes\nhimself was present, the barbarians were with much difficulty compelled\nby scourges to fight with the Greeks; but at Plataea, having taken other\nresolutions, as Herodotus says, \"they were no way inferior in courage\nand strength; but their garments being without armor was prejudicial to\nthem, since being naked they fought against a completely armed enemy.\"\nWhat then is there left great and memorable to the Grecians of those\nfights, if the Lacedaemonians fought with unarmed men, and the other\nGreeks, though present, were ignorant of the battle; if empty monuments\nare set up everywhere, and tripods and altars full of lying inscriptions\nare placed before the gods; if, lastly, Herodotus only knows the truth,\nand all others that give any account of the Greeks have been deceived\nby the fame of those glorious actions, as the effect of an admirable\nprowess? But he is an acute writer, his style is pleasant, there is a\ncertain grace, force, and elegancy in his narrations; and he has, like a\nmusician, elaborated his discourse, though not knowingly, still clearly\nand elegantly. These things delight, please, and affect all men. But\nas in roses we must beware of the venomous flies called cantharides; so\nmust we take heed of the calumnies and envy lying hid under smooth and\nwell-couched phrases and expressions, lest we imprudently entertain\nabsurd and false opinions of the most excellent and greatest cities and\nmen of Greece.\n\n\nEND OF SIXTEEN-----------\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\nAbuse of and by one's enemies.\n\nAchelous, myths of the.\n\nAchilles, Homer's lessons from.\n\nAchilles's Grove.\n\nAcrotatus, saying of.\n\nActaeon, tragic history of.\n\nActors, tragic vs. comic.\n\nAdministration, caution about.\n\nAdmonitions, on hearing.\n\nAdrastea, root of madness.\n\nAdultery and curiosity compared.\n\nAdvantage from enemies.\n\nAeantis, chorus of tribe.\n\nAegyptus, Nile formerly called.\n\n[Greek],\n\nAemilii, tyrants called.\n\nAemilius, Paulus.\n\nAenianes, the.\n\nAeschines the Academic, Life of; quoted.\n\nAeschylus, verses of; quoted; paraphrase of Homer by.\n\nAesculapius, temple of.\n\nAesop, at Delphi; at banquet of seven Wise Men.\n\nAgasicles, Spartan king.\n\nAgathocles, king of Sicily.\n\nAge, cause of old.\n\nAged, the part of the, in state affairs; love of pure wine by;\nintoxication among the.\n\nAgenor, grove of.\n\nAgesilaus, sayings of.\n\nAgesipolis, son of Cleombrotus.\n\nAgesipolis, son of Pausanias.\n\nAgis, King; example of; story of.\n\nAgis the Younger.\n\nAir, an element.\n\nAjax, parents of; place of soul of.\n\nAlalcomenae, city called.\n\n[Greek]\n\nAlcamenes, son of Teleclus.\n\nAlcibiades, stories about.\n\nAlcippus, wife and daughters of.\n\nAlexander the Great, sayings and stories of; and Timoclea; orations on;\nremark of Theocritus about; Diogenes and; in India; as a great drinker.\n\nAlexander, tyrant of Pheraeans.\n\nAlexandridas, son of Laid to.\n\nAllegory in Homer.\n\nAlmonds for drinkers.\n\nAlpha, position of, in alphabet.\n\nAlpheus, history of.\n\nAltar of ashes at Olympia.\n\n\"Alter ego\" of Pythagoras, parallel saying in Homer.\n\nAmasis, Herodotus relates a detail concerning.\n\nAmazonian river.\n\nAmbassadors, recording names of.\n\nAmbition, accompaniments of.\n\nAmerica, a hint of.\n\nAmmon, Egyptian name for Jupiter; temple of.\n\nAmmonius the philosopher.\n\n[Greek]\n\nAmoebus, musician.\n\nAmphilochus, oracle of.\n\nAmplification in Homer.\n\nAnatole, mountain.\n\nAnaxagoras, story of.\n\nAnaxander, son of Eurycrates.\n\nAnaxarchus.\n\nAnaxilas, saying of.\n\nAnchus compared with Curtius.\n\nAncients, council of.\n\nAndocides, Greek orator.\n\nAndroclidas, saying of.\n\nAnger, nature of; the restraint of; Homer on.\n\nAnimals, human beings born of; self-cures by wild; craftiness of water\nand of land; amours of, with human beings; reason in; generation of;\nembryos of; method of nutrition and growth of; appetites and pleasures\nin; vision of, in the dark.\n\nAnswers to questions.\n\nAntalcidas, sayings of.\n\nAnthedon, explanation of.\n\nAnticyra, cure of madness from.\n\nAntigonus the First.\n\nAntigonus the Second.\n\nAntiochus; surnamed the Falcon.\n\nAntiochus Hierax.\n\nAntiochus the third.\n\nAntipater, nickname of.\n\nAntiphon, Greek orator.\n\nAntiphrasis in Homer.\n\nAntithesis, Homer's use of.\n\nAnts, intelligence of.\n\nApelles and Megabyzus.\n\nApesantus, mountain.\n\n[Greek], defined.\n\n[Greek]\n\nAphrodite, epithets of; statue of, at Elis; called \"fruitful Cytherea.\";\ncharmed girdle of.\n\nAphrodite the Murderess, temple of.\n\nApis.\n\nApollo, place of birth; temple of, at Delphi; derivation from [Greek]\nand [Greek]; titles of; an oracle delivered by; a flatterer the enemy\nof; motto in temple of; inventor of music; causes of common diseases are\nfrom.\n\nApollodorus, painter.\n\nApollonius, consolation to, on death of son.\n\nApoplexy produced by fumes of lamp-wick.\n\n{Greek]\n\nApostrophe, figure of speech called.\n\nApothegms, of kings and great commanders; Roman; Laconic or Spartan; in\nHomer.\n\nAppetites in animals.\n\nApples and apple-trees.\n\nAraenus, sea shore of.\n\nArar, river, derivation of name.\n\nAratus, paraphrase of sayings of Homer by.\n\nArchimedes, story of.\n\nAregeus, sayings of.\n\nAres, varying opinions of.\n\nAretaphila, Cyrenaean woman.\n\nArgive women, the.\n\nArgives, images called; customs of.\n\nArgyllus, mountain in Egypt.\n\nAristarchus, arrangement of Iliad and Odyssey by.\n\nAristides the Just.\n\nAristippus, rebuke of a father by.\n\nAristo, punishment of.\n\nAristoclia of Haliartus.\n\nAristodemus, tyrant of Cumae.\n\nAriston, sayings of.\n\nAristophanes, and Socrates; comparison between Menander and.\n\nAristotimus, tyrant of Elis; daughters of.\n\nAristotle; on talkativeness; on use and abuse of wealth; on music;\nconception of God; views on indignation and mercy held in common with\nHomer.\n\nArithmetic of Pythagoras and in Homer.\n\nArrangement, Homer's skill in.\n\nArrhippe, virgin ravished by Tmolus.\n\nArtaxerxes Longimanus, sayings of.\n\nArtaxerxes Mnemon, sayings of.\n\nArtemis, temple of, at Ehpesus.\n\nAsbestos produced by ancients.\n\nAsparagus for brides.\n\nAss, connection of Typhon with; musical instruments made from bones of.\n\nAster, stone called.\n\nAstronomy, observations concerning; goats show knowledge of; ancient;\nHomer's knowledge of.\n\nAstycratidas, quoted.\n\nAsyndeton in Homer.\n\nAteas, sayings of.\n\nAtheism and superstition.\n\nAtheists, beliefs of.\n\nAthenaeum, mountain.\n\nAthene Chalcioecus, temple of.\n\nAthenians, decrees proposed to; question of renown of.\n\nAthenodorus and Xeno.\n\nAtoms the final cause.\n\nAttalus.\n\nattention, directions concerning.\n\nAugurs, tenure of office of.\n\nAugustus Caesar, in his later years.\n\nAurea, cause of the.\n\nAuspices, prohibition of use of, after August.\n\nAutoglyphus, stone called.\n\nAutonamasia in Homer.\n\nAutumn, men's stomachs in; least credit to dreams in.\n\nAxioms, complications of ten.\n\nBacchus, called Liber Pater; called Bull-begot; Greek and Roman punished\nby; identity of Osiris and; feast of; Mithridates called, on account\nof great drinking; Adonis identified with; called the good counsellor;\nHerodotus' estimate of.\n\nBallenaeus, mountain.\n\nBanishment, essay on.\n\nBanquets, philosophising at; arranging guests at; consular place at;\nposition of director of; suitability of chaplets of flowers at; inviting\nmany guests to; flute-girls at.\n\nBarbers, talkativeness of.\n\nBarley, soil for growing.\n\nBarrenness, in women; of mules.\n\nBashfulness.\n\nBathing after exercise.\n\nBaths, hot vs. cold; former compared with present; Homer on.\n\nBears, paws of, as food.\n\nBees, Simonides' allusion to; illustrations drawn from; effect of smoke\non; tendency of, to sting the impure; craftiness of Cretan.\n\nBeggars' flesh among Aenianes.\n\nBellerophon, continence of.\n\nBerecyntus, mountain and priest named.\n\nBessus, punishment of.\n\nBias, Spartan leader.\n\nBird or egg, which was first?\n\nBirds, in soothsaying; wisdom shown by; tree which is a natural snare\nfor.\n\nBirth, value of good.\n\nBirthdays of famous men.\n\nBirths, premature.\n\nBiton and Cleobis.\n\nBoar, characteristics of the.\n\nBoars, trees, sweet.\n\nBodies, division and mixture of.\n\nBody, definition of a.\n\nBoeotians, sullenness of.\n\nBoeotus, son of Neptune.\n\nBona, temple of.\n\nBorrowers, treatment of.\n\nBorrowing money.\n\nBottiaean maids.\n\nBoys, Sepulchre of the; love of; Herodotus on defiling of.\n\nBoys' necklaces.\n\nBrasidas, sayings of; stories of.\n\nBreathing, theory about.\n\nBridal customs, Roman.\n\nBrides, food for.\n\nBritain, fountain-head of religion; longevity of inhabitants of.\n\nBrixaba, mountain.\n\nBronze, weapons of.\n\nBroth, Lacedaemonian.\n\nBrotherly love.\n\nBrothers and sisters, Greek and Roman parallels concerning.\n\nBucephalus, intelligence of.\n\nBulimy, greedy disease.\n\nBullae, boys' necklaces.\n\nBundle of sticks story.\n\nburial, among Lacedaemonians.\n\nBysius, the month.\n\nCaesar, Augustus, sayings of.\n\nCaesar, Julius, stories and sayings of.\n\nCaicus, river of Mysia.\n\nCallicratidas, Spartan admiral.\n\nCallipides, Greek actor.\n\nCalydon, mountain.\n\nCamillus, dictator.\n\nCamma, story of.\n\nCandles, matter of extinguishing.\n\nCarbonate of soda, ancient use of.\n\nCarmenta, temple of.\n\nCarmina, verses called.\n\nCases, changes of, in Homer.\n\nCaspian Sea.\n\nCastor and Pollux, statues of; stars called.\n\nCatechresis in Homer.\n\nCato the Elder, at Utica.\n\nCats, Egyptian views on; the young of; madness of; caused by perfumes.\n\nCattle, salt used for.\n\nCatulus, Lutatius.\n\nCaucasus, mountain, story of.\n\nCaudine Forks, Roman hero at.\n\nCauses, definition and division of.\n\nCeltic women, the.\n\nCensors, inauguration ceremonies of.\n\nCeres, feast in honour of.\n\nChabrias, sayings of.\n\nChalcedonian women, custom of.\n\nChaldeans, belief of.\n\nChanges of gender, number, etc., in Homer.\n\nCharila, sacrificial rites of.\n\nCharillus, King.\n\nCharon, Homer a disciple of.\n\nChastity, of animals; herb for protection of.\n\nChild-birth, effect of moon on.\n\nChildren, time of naming Roman; training of; love of only; conception\nand birth of.\n\nChiomara, story of.\n\nChios, women of.\n\n[Greek]\n\nChristianity, allusions to.\n\nChrysermus, History of India by.\n\nChrysippus, on various virtues; works of.\n\nCicero, sayings of.\n\nCios, women of.\n\nCirce and Odysseus.\n\nCithaeron, mountain.\n\nCivil polity, division of, by Homer.\n\nClaudia, virtues of.\n\nCleanthes, Athenian philosopher.\n\nClearchus, tyrant of Heraclea.\n\nCleomachus the Pharsalian.\n\nCleombrotus, son of Pausanias.\n\nCleombrotus the Lacedaemonian.\n\nCleomenes, quoted.\n\nCleomenes, son of Anaxandridas.\n\nCleomenes, son of Cleombrotus.\n\nClitoris, stone called.\n\nCloelia, Roman maiden.\n\nClothing of Lacedaemonians.\n\nClouds, causes of.\n\nCnidians, Crown of the.\n\nCoccygium, mountain.\n\nCocks, use of, according to Chrysippus.\n\nCoeranus, story of.\n\nCoins, images on.\n\nCold, first principle of; a preserver of health; use of, in Homer.\n\nColiads, the.\n\nColour, defined.\n\nColours of early painters.\n\nColotes the Epicurean.\n\nComedy, origin of, with Homer.\n\nComets, beliefs about.\n\nCommendation, consideration in.\n\nComminius, story of.\n\nCongelation.\n\nConjugal precepts.\n\nConstancy, crowns of.\n\nConsualia, feasts called.\n\nConsular place at table.\n\nCopiousness, a character of speech.\n\nCorinthians, Hall of the.\n\ncorruption, are animals obnoxious to?\n\nCotys, sayings of.\n\nCounting, by fives; animals' power of; in Homer.\n\nCranes, intelligence of; fish compared with.\n\nCrassus, hay bound about horns of.\n\nCrater history, vase called.\n\nCreation of the world.\n\nCrocodiles, intelligence of; the bird trochilus the friend of; customs\nof, in breeding.\n\nCroesus, Herodotus on.\n\nCronium, mountain.\n\nCronos, festivals of.\n\nCrystallus, river called.\n\nCuffing, exercise of.\n\nCupping-glasses, phenomenon in.\n\nCuriosity, essay on.\n\nCurius, M'., story of.\n\nCurtius, Roman knight.\n\nCuttle-fish, sign of storm; cunning of.\n\nCybele, worship of.\n\nCynic and king anecdote.\n\nCyrenaics, temperance of.\n\nCyrus, sayings of.\n\nCyrus the Younger, sayings of.\n\nDaemon of Socrates.\n\nDaemons, remarks on.\n\nDamindas, story of.\n\nDamis, quoted.\n\nDamonidas, sayings of.\n\nDancing, three parts in.\n\nDarius, sayings of; Alexander the Great and the corpse of; Alexander and\nthe wife of.\n\nDarkness, visibility of; reason of animals' seeing in.\n\nDaughters sacrificed by fathers.\n\nDay, time of beginning.\n\nDead, rites of the honoured.\n\nDeath, opinions of; remarks on; sleep before; a good thing; cause of;\nquestion of appertaining to soul or body.\n\ndeaths of sons, cases of.\n\ndebtors, unfortunate lot of.\n\nDecrees proposed to Athenians.\n\nDefamation of character, curiosity results in.\n\nDeity, knowledge of a.\n\nDemaratus, sayings of.\n\nDemeter, wanderings of.\n\nDemetrius, sayings of.\n\nDemetrius Phalereus.\n\nDemetrius the grammarian.\n\nDemocracy depicted by Homer.\n\nDemocritus, attacked by Colotes the Epicurean; defence of.\n\nDemosthenes, Life of; speech ON THE CROWN; parallel passages in Homer\nand.\n\nDercyllidas, Spartan ambassador.\n\nDestiny, necessity considered the same as.\n\nDexicrcon, Venus of.\n\nDiana, temples of, in Rome; priestesses of.\n\nDiana Dictynna.\n\nDiana Orthia, rites of.\n\nDiatyposis in Homer.\n\nDidymus the Cynic, surnamed Planetiades.\n\nDiet of Lacedaemonians; in sickness; in health; effect of, on health;\nvariety in; Homer's views about.\n\nDigestion of food.\n\nDinarchus, Greek orator.\n\nDiogenes, Alexander and; advice of, to boys; soliloquy of; sayings and\nstories of; Melanthius on a tragedy of; eats a raw fish.\n\nDion, sayings of.\n\nDionysius, tyrant of Sicily.\n\nDionysius the Hydragogue.\n\nDionysius the Younger; Diogenes and.\n\nDiorphus, mountain.\n\nDirector of a feast.\n\nDiscourse, separating the useful part of a.\n\nDiseases, causes of new.\n\nDivination, art of; Homer's knowledge of.\n\nDog, Locrians' wooden; Worship of, by Egyptians; power of mimicry in a.\n\nDogs, set before Lares; sacrifice of, to Mana Geneta; sacrifice of, in\nLupercal games; stone-chasing of; intelligence shown by.\n\nDolphin, tribute to the.\n\nDomitius, Cneus.\n\n\"Do not overdo,\" saying.\n\n[Greek] defined.\n\nDreams, origin of.\n\nDrimylus, mountain.\n\nDrinkers, certain great.\n\n\"Drink five or three, but not four,\" saying.\n\nDrinking, references to, in the Iliad.\n\nDrugs in Homer.\n\nDruidical students.\n\nDrunkenness, talkativeness and; of old men as compared with old women;\npartial compared with total.\n\nEarth, an element; nature and magnitude of the; figure, site and\nposition, motion, and zones of. See World.\n\nEarthquakes, cause of.\n\nEase of mind; in exile.\n\nEcho, production of an.\n\nEclipse, cause of; shadow in an, in proportion to moon's diameter; of\nsun; of moon.\n\nEclipses in Homer.\n\nEducation of children.\n\n{Greek]\n\nEgypt, kings of.\n\nEgyptian gods and myths; legend about Love.\n\nEI the word, on Apollo's temple at Delphi.\n\nElaeus, founding of.\n\nElaphebolia, festival of.\n\nElasii.\n\nElement, difference between principle and.\n\nElements, Nature viewed as the mixture and separation of the; of members\nof human body; and principles.\n\nElephant, amour of an, with Alexandrian maid.\n\nElephantiasis.\n\nElephants, intelligence of; excelled by fishes.\n\nElephas, mountain.\n\nEleutheria, origin of festival of.\n\nEllipse, a figure of speech.\n\nEmbryo, nature of human; of animals.\n\nEmetics, use of.\n\nEmmets, intelligence of.\n\nEmpedocles, quoted; strictures of Colotes against; defence of.\n\nEmphasis, trope called.\n\nEmprepes, story of.\n\nEnmities accompany friendship.\n\nEnmity, advantage and profit from.\n\nEnvy, follows ability; an enemy to peace of mind; and hatred; praising\none's self without exciting; in hearers; the aged most free from attacks\nproceeding from; of statesmen.\n\nEpaenetus, on liars.\n\nEpaminoxidas, stories of.\n\nEpicaste.\n\nEpicureans, theories of.\n\nEpicurus, the doctrine of; admits it is pleasanter to do than receive a\nkindness; views on the deity; Colotes, disciple of, confuted; followers\nof, distinguished by inactivity in public matters.\n\nEpidamnians, POLETES among.\n\nEpigrams in Homer.\n\nEpilepsy, \"sacred disease,\".\n\nEpiphonesis in Homer.\n\nEpitaphs, uselessness of.\n\nEpithets in Homer.\n\nEretria, women of.\n\nEryxo.\n\n[Greek]\n\nEuboidas, saying of.\n\nEudaemonidas, quoted.\n\nEudamidas, son of Archidamus.\n\nEumenes; and Attalus.\n\nEunostus, hero of Tanagra.\n\nEuphranor, painter.\n\nEuphrates, myths of the.\n\nEuripides, quoted; on banishment; on God; paraphrase of Homer by.\n\nEurotas, river.\n\nEurycratidas, son of Anaxandridas.\n\nEuthynous the Italian.\n\nEvenus, quotation from.\n\nExercise, importance of; Homer's acquaintance with value of.\n\nExercises, Homer's order of.\n\nExordiums, Homer's.\n\nFabius, friend of Augustus Caesar.\n\nFabius Maximus, heroic act of.\n\nFabricius, C., and Pyrrhus.\n\nFace in the moon.\n\nFailing sickness.\n\nFalse modesty.\n\nFancy, defined.\n\n\"Fast from evil,\" saying.\n\nFasting, practice of; thirst from.\n\nFate, necessity considered the same as; the nature of; essay concerning;\npertains to mind of God; Homer's views of.\n\nFates, province of the.\n\nFathers, and daughters, certain Greek and Roman cases of; advice to;\nlove of, for daughters.\n\nFear, and superstition; Homer on.\n\nFeast of Fools.\n\nFeasts. See Banquets.\n\nFebruary, derivation of.\n\nFever, cause and nature of.\n\nFig-leaf as an omen.\n\nFig-trees, fruit of.\n\nFigures, definition of.\n\nFigures of speech, Homer's.\n\nFire, compared with water as to usefulness; an element.\n\nFish, abstention from eating; cunning of; kind of, called remora or\necheneis; eating of, forbidden by Pythagoreans.\n\nFish-lines, horses' hair for.\n\nFish-nets, rotting of.\n\nFive, significance of number; the number dedicated by the Wise Men.\n\nFive elements in the world.\n\nFive gods of Rhea.\n\nFives, counting by.\n\nFive senses, the.\n\nFive Wise Men.\n\nFlamen Dialis, question concerning; rules for.\n\nFlaminian Way.\n\nFlattery vs. friendship.\n\nFlesh, of sacrificed beasts; the eating of.\n\nFlowers, chaplets of, worn at table.\n\nFlute, mentioned by Homer.\n\nFlute-girls at feasts.\n\nFlute-music.\n\nFlutes from asses' bones.\n\n\"Follow God,\" saying.\n\nFood, superstitions about; choice of; digestion of; from the sea vs.\nfood from land. See Diet.\n\nFortuna Primigenia, Worship of.\n\nFortune, temples of; of the Romans; essay on; various opinions of.\n\nFour, the number, venerated by Pythagoreans.\n\nFour species of animals.\n\nFox, cunning of the.\n\nFreedom of speech, ill-advised.\n\nFriends, folly of seeking many; discerning flatterers from.\n\nFriendship, a dual relation; enmities an accompaniment of; constancy a\nrequisite in.\n\nFrogs, breeding of.\n\nFrost, hunting impeded by.\n\nFrozen speech.\n\nFruit, salt lacking in.\n\nFuneral customs in Homer.\n\nFuneral rites, Roman.\n\nFurciferi.\n\nG, the letter, introduction of.\n\nGalatia, heroines of.\n\nGalaxy, or Milky Way.\n\nGalba and Maecenas.\n\nGanges, river, story of.\n\nGardens of Adonis.\n\nGarlands, of oaken leaves; in games.\n\nGarlic, scruples concerning.\n\nGarrulity.\n\nGauran, mountain.\n\nGeese, sacred.\n\nGelo, sayings of.\n\nGenders, change of, in Homer.\n\nGeneration, extent of a.\n\nGeneration, and corruption; of human beings; ancient theories of; of\nanimals; of gods.\n\nGenerative seed.\n\nGeneta, dogs sacrificed to.\n\nGeniuses and heroes.\n\nGeometer, God as a.\n\nGifts, bridal.\n\nGnome, defined; Homer's use of.\n\nGnossians, customs among.\n\nGod, the tutelary, of Rome; existence and essence of a; what is?;\nimmortality and eternity of; Platonic conception of; Homer's conception.\n\nGods, ancients' conception of; generation of; Homer's belief in; piety\ntoward, taught by Homer.\n\nGold, scarcity of, in ancient times.\n\nGracefulness, a character of speech.\n\nGrafting of trees.\n\nGreat Trench, battle of the.\n\nGreedy disease.\n\nGreek Questions.\n\nGrief, advice concerning; exhibitions of; Homer on.\n\nGrief-easing stone.\n\nGuests, at wedding suppers; entertainment of many, at a supper; that are\ncalled shadows; who come late. See also Banquets.\n\nGymnastics in Homer.\n\nHaemus, mountain.\n\nHail, why round.\n\nHalcyon, virtues of the.\n\nHalinda, plant called.\n\nHalo, cause of the.\n\nHamaxocylists, race of.\n\nHannibal, Fabius Maximus and; and the women of Salmantica.\n\nHappiness, true seat of.\n\nHarmony, in music.\n\nHarp-music.\n\nHarps, at entertainments.\n\nHart, tears of, salt.\n\nHatred, envy and.\n\nHay-making, prayers for.\n\nHead, covering and uncovering the.\n\nHealth, estimates of; rules for preservation of; preservers of.\n\nHearing, essay concerning; cause of sense of.\n\nHeart, seat of the emotions according to Stoics, following Homer.\n\nHeat, a first principle; causes premature old age; of women; Homer's\nappreciation of.\n\nHeaven, nature end essence of; circles or division of.\n\nHebrus river.\n\nHedge-hogs, cunning of; sea hedge-hogs.\n\nHegesippus, quoted.\n\nHelicon, story of.\n\nHens, impregnation of, by the wind.\n\nHera as goddess of marriage.\n\nHeraclides, wrestler, a great drinker.\n\nHerbs growing in certain rivers and mountains.\n\nHercules, payment of tithes to; swearing by; and the Muses, altar common\nto; sacrifices to; Greek and Roman stories of; Herodotus' estimate of.\n\nHerodotus, on modesty of women; criticism of.\n\nHeroes, beliefs concerning; of Homer.\n\nHeroic metre in Homer.\n\nHerondas, saying of.\n\nHesiod, on gods, daemons, heroes, and men; quoted; on begetting\nchildren; on receiving gifts of fortune.\n\nHiero, sayings of.\n\nHippocratidas.\n\nHippodamus, Spartan commander.\n\nHippolytus, story of.\n\nHippothorus, tune called.\n\nHistriones, players called.\n\nHogs, Jews' antipathy toward.\n\nHomer, on prophets; gives name of friendship to sexual love; quoted;\non bravery; unmetrical line of; on man's wretched lot; on modesty; on\nadvantages of music; order of different kinds of exercises according to;\non intercourse between men and their wives; calls salt divine; epithets\napplied to liquids by; a moot point in third book of Iliad; essay on\nlife and poetry of; biographical sketch of; the two works of; metre and\ndialects used by; epithets used by; tropes found in; figures of speech\nin; various styles used by; on constitution of the universe; natural\nphilosophy of; on God and the gods; on the human soul; places emotions\nabout the heart; on virtue and vice; mention of arithmetic and music in;\nphilosophies which found their origin with; sayings of, paraphrased by\nlater writers; rhetorical art of; types represented in his speakers;\nknowledge of laws; civil polity in; experience of, in warlike affairs;\nheroes described by; knowledge of medicine, diet, wine, surgery,\netc.; of divination and omens; of tragedy and comedy; mastery of\nword-painting.\n\nHomoioptelon in Homer.\n\nHomoioteleuton, Homer's use of.\n\nHonor, the god so called.\n\nHonor to parents, in Homer.\n\nHoratius and Horatia, and Greek parallel.\n\nHorse, cure of a stumbling.\n\nHorse-races, rites of.\n\nHorses called [Greek].\n\nHorta, temple of.\n\nHostages, Roman virgins as.\n\nHunger, causes of; allayed by drinking.\n\nHurricanes, causes of.\n\nHybristica, rites of.\n\nHydaspes, river.\n\nHyperbole in Homer.\n\nHyperides, Greek orator.\n\nHysteropotmi.\n\nIbis, worship of the; use of physic by; figure of, first letter in\nEgyptian alphabet.\n\nIbycus, story of murderers of.\n\nIcarius, story of.\n\nIcebergs, tradition of.\n\nIchneumon, armor of the; outmatched by the trochilus.\n\nIda, Mount.\n\nIdathyrsus, sayings of.\n\nIdeas, defined.\n\nIdleness, a gentlemanly crime; and health.\n\nIdola of Democritus originate with Homer.\n\nImagination, defined.\n\nImmortality of the soul.\n\nImpotency in men.\n\nInachus, river.\n\nIncense used by Egyptians.\n\nInclination of the world.\n\nIncongruous, a figure of speech.\n\nIndia, river and mountain of; Alexaiider the Great in.\n\nIndus, story of the.\n\nIno.\n\nInquisitiveness.\n\nIntemperance in eating.\n\nIntercourse between men and their wives.\n\nInterpreters of oracles.\n\nIntoxication, signs of. See Drunkenness. Introductions, Homer's.\n\nIon the poet, cited.\n\nIphicrates, sayings of.\n\nIreland, mention of.\n\nIris-struck trees.\n\nIrony, use of, in Homer.\n\nIsaeus, Greek orator.\n\nIsis and Osiris, essay on.\n\nImnenus, river.\n\nIsocrates, Greek orator.\n\nIsosceles triangles.\n\nIsthmian games, crowns at.\n\nIvy, beliefs concerning; consecrated to Bacchus and to Osirls; the\nnature of.\n\nJanuary as the first month.\n\nJanus, double-faced god; image of, on coins.\n\nJealousy. See Envy.\n\nJesting at an entertainment.\n\nJews, allusion to; Spartans of same stock as the; effect of superstition\non; abstention of, from swine's flesh; customs of; God worshipped by.\n\nJocasta, death of.\n\nJourneys, days for beginning.\n\nJuno, Roman beliefs about; nuptial ceremonies connected with.\n\nJupiter, priests of; conception of year belonging to; rules or priests\nof; statue of, in Caria. See Zeus.\n\nJustice, ancients' conception of.\n\nJUS TRIUM LIBERORUM.\n\n[Greek], Cretans called.\n\nKingly rule, Homer's praise of.\n\nKissing, custom of.\n\n\"Know thyself,\" Delphic motto; to be observed by censorious persons.\n\n[Greek] and [Greek].\n\n[Greek].\n\n[Greek].\n\nL, the letter, pronounced R.\n\nLabotus, saying of.\n\nLabradean Jupiter, statue of.\n\nLacedaemonians, laws and customs of.\n\nLais, famous courtesan.\n\nLamachus, story of.\n\nLamp, the unextinguishable.\n\nLamps, putting out of.\n\nLampsace.\n\nLanguage, care of the. Sea Speech.\n\nLanthorns of priests.\n\nLares, customs concerning.\n\n\"Larks must have their crests,\" Greek proverb.\n\nLaurentia, worship of.\n\nLaw, power of, over kings; Homer's knowledge of the word.\n\nLeaena, Greek heroine.\n\nLeisure, healthful use of.\n\nLemnos, women of.\n\nLeo, son of Eucratidas.\n\nLeonidas, hero of Therinopylae.\n\nLeotychidas, son of Aristo.\n\nLeotychidas the First.\n\nLeprosy, from drinking swine's milk; from dewy trees; stone which cures.\n\nLetters, avoidance of haste in opening; of alphabet.\n\n\"Let this be ratified,\" saying.\n\nLeucophyllus, reed with white leaf.\n\nLeucothea, festivals of.\n\nLiars, a saying about.\n\nLibertinism and liberty.\n\nLibitina.\n\nLicinius, Publius.\n\nLictors, derivation of name.\n\nLightning, theories concerning.\n\nLilaeus, mountain.\n\nLion, tracks of the.\n\nLions, cunning of.\n\nLiquids, in one's diet; epithets of; passage of, through the lungs.\n\n\"Live unknown,\" precept.\n\nLoadstone, the.\n\nLochagus, quoted.\n\nLocrians, information about the.\n\nLove, tragical histories of; festival to God of; essay on; brotherly;\nmen made poets by.\n\nLovers of boys.\n\nLUCAR, derivation of.\n\nLucullus.\n\nLugdunum, mountain and city.\n\nLungs, passage of drink through.\n\nLupercal plays.\n\nLutatius Catulus.\n\nLute, invention of.\n\nLycia, women of.\n\nLycormas, river.\n\nLycurgus, Life of; teaches brevity and terseness.\n\nLydian mood in music.\n\nLyre, playing on the; mention of, by Homer.\n\nLysander, Lacedaemonian general; stories and sayings of.\n\nLysias, Greek orator.\n\nMacellum, market called.\n\nMadness, anger and; root and plant for causing and curing.\n\nMaeander, river.\n\nMagpie, story of a.\n\nManlius, M.\n\nMare, child horn of a.\n\nMarius, C.; and Sylla.\n\nMarriage customs, Roman.\n\nMarriage of kindred.\n\nMars, Greek and Roman parallels concerning.\n\nMarsyas, Phrygian river.\n\nMatter, defined; motion and.\n\n\"Matters of concern to-morrow,\".\n\nMatuta, temple of; festivals of.\n\nMaximus, Fabius, stories of.\n\nMay, Roman marriages forbidden during.\n\nMeals, Latin and Greek names of.\n\nMeat, the eating of; putrefaction of, by moon.\n\nMedicine, Homer's familiarity with.\n\nMedietics, harmonical and arithmetical.\n\nMegisto, and Aristotimus.\n\nMelian women, the.\n\nMemnon, sayings of.\n\nMemory, cultivating the.\n\nMen, impotency in.\n\nMenander, quoted; comparison between Aristophanes and.\n\nMercury, statue of, among the Graces; statues of.\n\nMetageitnia, festival.\n\nMetaphor in Homer.\n\nMetellus, Caecillus.\n\nMetellus Nepos.\n\nMeteors resembling rods.\n\nMetonymy in Homer.\n\nMicca, story of.\n\nMidas fountain of.\n\nMilesian women.\n\nMilky Way.\n\nMills grinding, listeners to.\n\nMinerals, ancient production of.\n\nMinerva, priestess of.\n\nMinerva of the Brazen House.\n\nMinerva the Artisan and Minerva the Protectress of Cities.\n\nMinstrels, women's dress worn by.\n\nMirror, comparison of wife and.\n\nMirrors, rusting of; of the ancients; the working of.\n\nMiscarriage, herb for causing.\n\nMithridates, and the woman of Pergamus; a great drinker.\n\nMixarchagetas.\n\nMnemosyne, mother of Muses.\n\nMob rule in Homer.\n\nModesty, the vice of false; of women.\n\nMonarchy, democracy, and oligarchy compared.\n\nMonophagi, the, in Aegina.\n\nMonstrosities, birth of.\n\nMonth, relation between Juno and the.\n\nMonths, order of; beginnings and periods of.\n\nMoon, relation of Juno to; the face in the; influence of, on tides;\nand Styx; essence, size, figure, light of, etc.; putrefaction of flesh\nexposed to.\n\nMoons on shoes.\n\nMoon-worship.\n\nMoral virtue.\n\nMothers, love of, for sons.\n\nMotion, defined; of the soul.\n\nMountains, names of, and details concerning.\n\nMourning, white, for women.\n\nMucius Scaevola.\n\nMule, an intelligent; fable of, laden with salt; barrenness of the.\n\nMullets, beliefs regarding.\n\nMuses, derivation of name; observation about the number of.\n\nMushrooms, produced by thunder.\n\nMusic, Lacedaemonian; essay concerning; effect of, on various animals;\npleasures arising from bad; kind of, fittest for entertainments; as\nmentioned in Homer.\n\nMusicians, ancient.\n\nMust, effect of cold on.\n\nMutation, a figure of speech.\n\nMutilations of mourners.\n\nMycenae, mountain.\n\nMyenus, mountain of Aetolia.\n\nMyops, magic herb.\n\nMyronides.\n\nMyrrh used for incense.\n\nNamertes, remark of.\n\nNaming Roman children.\n\nNarrative style found in Homer.\n\nNatural philosophy; of Homer.\n\nNatural Questions.\n\nNature, sentiments concerning; what is?\n\nNecessity, philosophers on.\n\nNecklaces called bullae.\n\nNestor and Odysseus in Homer.\n\nNicander, sayings of.\n\nXicostratus, saying of.\n\nNiger and the fish-bone.\n\nNight, the time for thought; called the good adviser; noises better\nheard in, than in day.\n\nNile, river; the over-flowing of the; use of water of, for drinking.\n\nNine, most perfect number.\n\n\"No,\" courage to say.\n\nNoisy-with-the-pen, nickname bestowed on Antipater.\n\nNome, derivation of.\n\nNorth Pole, Homer's and Plutarch's knowledge of.\n\n\"Nothing too much,\" inscribed in temple of Apollo; in homer.\n\n\"Not so had\" philosophy.\n\nNouns and verbs, speech composed of.\n\nNuma, reign of.\n\nNumber, the perfect; change of, in Homer.\n\nNumbers, superstitions concerning; in procreation of the soul;\nPythagorean view of nature of; triangular; science of, in Pythagoras and\nin Homer.\n\nNursing of children.\n\nNutrition and growth of animals.\n\nNymphs, life of.\n\nOak, garlands of leaves of; \"darkness at the oak,\".\n\nOaths, by Hercules; forbidden to priests.\n\nOchimus.\n\nOcresia, Roman virgin.\n\nOcridion, temple of.\n\nOctaves in music.\n\nOdd and even numbers in Homer.\n\nOdysseus, Circe and; self-control of; Homer's meaning in.\n\nOffspring, affection for one's.\n\nOgyian isle (Ireland).\n\nOil, poured on the sea; cause of transparency of; considered as purely\nliquid.\n\nOld men, council of. See Aged.\n\nOligarchy depicted by Homer.\n\nOlympus, inventor of Grecian and nomic music.\n\nOnesicratus.\n\nOnions for lung disease.\n\nOnobatis, woman called.\n\nOnomatopoeia in Homer.\n\nOracles, essay on the cessation of.\n\nOracular responses.\n\nOrations, political.\n\nOrators, Lives of the Ten.\n\nOratory, extempore and studied.\n\nOrestes, story of, and Roman parallel.\n\nOrontes, sayings of.\n\nOrpheus, thrown into the Hebrus.\n\nOryx, fables of the.\n\n[Greek]\n\nOsiris, Isis and; birth of; death of; derivation of name.\n\nOtus, method of capturing the.\n\nOutspokenness, false and true.\n\nOvereating.\n\nOverturners of wagons.\n\nOx, sacrifice of, by Pyrrhias; in Egyptian sacrifices; and the camel.\n\nOxen, hay bound about horns of; counting by.\n\nOxyrhyncus, worship of the.\n\nPactolus, river of Lydia.\n\nPaedaretus, anecdote of; sayings of.\n\nPainting, defined as silent poetry; Homer a master in painting by words.\n\nPalaestinus, river, and son of Neptune.\n\nPalillogia, Homer's use of.\n\n[Greek], defined.\n\nPalladium, Greek and Roman parallels relating to.\n\nPalm, garlands of, given in games.\n\nPalms, growth of, increased by weights laid on them.\n\nPan, Spania derived from.\n\nPanaema, derivation of.\n\nPangaeus, mountain.\n\nPanthoidas, sayings of.\n\nParallels drawn between Greek and Roman history.\n\nParanomasia in Homer.\n\nParaphrases of Homer by later writers.\n\nParembole, a figure of speech.\n\nParents, advice to; honor to, shown in Homer.\n\nParison, a figure of speech.\n\nParmenides, on love; an Epicurean's attack on; defence of.\n\nParsley, crowns of.\n\nPartridges, cunning of.\n\nParysatis, sayings of.\n\nPassions of the body.\n\nPater Patratus.\n\nPatres Conscripti distinguished from Patres.\n\nPatricians prohibited to dwell about Capitol.\n\nPausanias, son of Cleombrotus.\n\nPausanias, son of Plistonanax.\n\nPausanias and Cleonice.\n\nPeace of mind; in exile.\n\nPedagogues, choice of. See Tutors.\n\nPedetes, Andron in Samos called.\n\nPeeping Girl, the.\n\nPergamus, the woman of.\n\nPericles, sayings of.\n\nPeripatetics and Homer.\n\nPeriphrasis in Homer.\n\nPersian women, the.\n\n[Greek], defined.\n\nPhallus, festival of the.\n\nPhantom, defined.\n\nPhasis, river.\n\nPhiladelphi, stones called.\n\nPhilip of Macedon and Arcadio the Achaean.\n\nPhilosophers, conversation of; reasonings of, originate with Homer.\n\nPhilosophizing at table.\n\nPhilosophy, defined; difficulties in, may be overcome.\n\nPhocion the Athenian.\n\nPhocis, women of.\n\nPhocus, daughter of.\n\nPhoebidas, quoted.\n\nPhryne the courtesan.\n\nPhryxa, herb called.\n\nPhylacteries of the Jews.\n\nPhysics, use of; animals' use of.\n\nPhyxemelum, defined.\n\nPieria.\n\nPiety toward the gods taught by Homer.\n\nPinarii, the.\n\nPindar, elegy of.\n\nPine, garlands of.\n\nPipe, mentioned by Homer; made from asses' bones.\n\nPipe-music at entertainments.\n\nPisistratus, tyrant of Athens.\n\nPittacus, philosophy of.\n\nPlace, definition of.\n\nPlanets, musical proportions in distances between. See Astronomy.\n\nPlants, with special properties; method of increase of.\n\nPlato, on music; on procreation of the soul; on music of the spheres;\non an oracle delivered by Apollo; on fatigue as the enemy of learning;\nquoted; reproof of Socrates by; praise of concise speaking by; on the\nimmortality of the soul; knowledge of music shown by; on God; statement\nof, that drink passes through the lungs; birthday of; Chrysippus' works\nagainst; Colotes' criticisms of; defence of.\n\nPlatonic Questions.\n\nPlatychaetas.\n\nPleonasm in Homer.\n\nPlistarchus, son of Leonidas.\n\nPlistoanax, son of Pausanias.\n\nPloiades, clouds called.\n\nPoetry, Lacedaemonian; rank of music and; and love; parts common to\ndancing and; of Homer; how a young man ought to hear.\n\nPoets, greater improbabilities spoken by Stoics than by; prize for, at\ngames.\n\nPoletes, among Epidamnians.\n\nPolitical precepts.\n\nPolity, civil, in Homer.\n\nPoltys, sayings of.\n\nPolycratidas.\n\nPolycrita.\n\nPolydorus.\n\nPolypus, the; change of color of.\n\nPompeius, Cn.\n\nPontius, C., Roman hero.\n\nPolpilius.\n\nPorsena and the Roman maidens.\n\nPorus.\n\nPosidonius, school of.\n\nPostumia, Vestal Virgin.\n\nPoverty and wealth.\n\nPraise of one's self.\n\nPraising, directions concerning; care to be observed in.\n\nPriest of Hercules at Cos.\n\nPriests, customs of Roman.\n\nPrince, Discourse to an unlearned.\n\nPrinciple, difference between element and.\n\nPrinciples, four first; defined.\n\nPrinistum, founding of.\n\nProanaphonesis in Homer.\n\nProcreation, of the soul; of children.\n\nPrometheus, fate of, and herb named for.\n\nProsopopoiia, Homer's use of.\n\nProvidence, and fate; pertains to mind of God; Homer's views of.\n\nPtolemies, the, and flatterers; titles of the.\n\nPtolemy, son of Lagus.\n\nPublius Decius, case of, and Greek parallel.\n\nPulse, abstention from; use of, by the Trallians.\n\nPunishing, God's delay in.\n\nPutrefaction of flesh.\n\nPyrrhus the Epirot, surnamed the Eagle; C. Fabricius and.\n\nPythagoras, discourages cruelty to animals; judgment of music by; on\nprinciples and elements; conception of God; symbols and superstitions\nof; doctrines of, which originated with Homer; parallel sayings of Homer\nand.\n\nPythagoreans, beliefs about eating.\n\nPytheas, story of.\n\nPythes, the wife of.\n\nPythia, death of.\n\nPythian responses.\n\nQuarry of asbestos.\n\nQuaternary of Pythagoreans.\n\nQuestions, answers to; the asking of; for discussion at table.\n\nQuickness effected by ellipsis in Homer.\n\nQuince, to be eaten by brides.\n\nQuinctius, T., stories of.\n\nQuintessence, the, of the Aristote1ians.\n\nQuirinalia, the Feast of Fools.\n\nQuiritis and Quirinus.\n\nRaillery at an entertainment.\n\nRainbow, cause of.\n\nRains, generation of, known to Homer.\n\nRazor, mentioned by Homer.\n\nReading by old men.\n\nReason, paralyzed by fear.\n\nRecapitulation, Homer's use of.\n\nRed Sea, woods and plants in.\n\nRegression, a figure of speech.\n\nRelation, a figure of speech.\n\nReproofs, on bearing.\n\nResin used for incense.\n\nRespiration, voice and; cause of.\n\nRestraint, a character of speech.\n\nRex Sacrorum, king of priests.\n\nRhea, myth relating to; five gods of.\n\nRhetoric, Homer a master of.\n\nRhodope, the courtesan; mountain.\n\nRiches, remarks on.\n\nRivers and their characteristics.\n\nRods and axes carried before officers.\n\nRogue Town, Philip's.\n\nRoman Apothegms.\n\nRoman Questions.\n\nRomans, the fortune of the.\n\nRomulus and Remus; Greek parallel.\n\nRoundelay, Terpander invents.\n\nRoxana.\n\nRules of health.\n\nRumina, sacrifices to.\n\nRunners-to-supper.\n\nRusticus, anecdote of.\n\nSacred geese, the.\n\nSacrifices, of human beings by Romans; the result of superstition; flesh\nof.\n\nSagaris, river of Phrygia.\n\nSailing, rate of, in winter.\n\nSt. Elmo's Fire.\n\nSalmantica, women of.\n\nSalt, Egyptian beliefs concerning; use of, for cattle; reasons for lack\nof, in fruit; held in honor.\n\nSambicus, sufferings of.\n\nSame and Other, Plato's.\n\nSamian customs.\n\nSarcasm, use of, in Homer.\n\nSardians, sale of.\n\nSaturn, the father of truth; temple of, as treasury and office of\nrecord; star of the Jews.\n\nSaturnalia.\n\nSavings, remarkable; in Homer.\n\nScamander, river in Boeotia.\n\nScape-goat, ceremony of, among Egyptians.\n\nScedasus, daughters of.\n\nScilurus, sayings of.\n\nScipio the Elder.\n\nScipio Junior, sayings of.\n\nScolding, fault of.\n\nSea, less salt in winter; water of, poured upon wine; waves of, heated\nby motion; calming the, by pouring on oil; composition and other\nqualities of: food from the, vs. food from land.\n\nSea-sickness, degrees of.\n\nSea-water and trees.\n\nSecret, keeping a.\n\nSeed, generative.\n\nSelf-control.\n\nSelf-praise.\n\nSemiramis, monument of.\n\nSenses, definition, objects, number, action of, etc.\n\nSeptimontium, festival called.\n\nSerapis, Egyptian name for Pluto.\n\nSerpent, amour of a.\n\nServants' Holiday, origin of.\n\nServius, Roman king.\n\nSeventeen, superstition concerning the number.\n\nSeven Wise Men, banquet of the.\n\nSexes, generation of the different.\n\nShadows, guests called.\n\nSheep, qualities of flesh of, when bitten by wolves.\n\nShetland Islands.\n\nShips, sterns and stems on coins.\n\nShyness, an excess of modesty.\n\nSickness, causes of.\n\nSight, herb for curing weak; cause of; of old men; process of.\n\nSilence, advantages of, contrasted with talkativeness; an answer to wise\nmen.\n\nSimonides, quotation from.\n\nSinister, birds called, in soothsaying.\n\nSipylus, mountain of Asia.\n\nSirens, music of the.\n\nSkeleton at the feast.\n\nSlave, an obedient but stupid.\n\nSlaves, feast-day of Roman; blinding of.\n\nSleep, and death; eating ore; cause of; question of, appertaining to\nsoul or body; Homer's valuation of.\n\nSmall Fortune, temple of.\n\nSmelling, means of.\n\nSneezing, the Daemon of Socrates.\n\nSnoring as a good omen in Homer.\n\nSnow, generation of; preservation of.\n\nSoap, natron the ancient substitute for.\n\nSober-stone, the.\n\nSocrates, the Daemon of; on training of children; on the seat of true\nhappiness; quoted; conception of God; birthday of; Colotes' criticisms\nof; defence of; \"a midwife to others, himself not generating,\".\n\nSolon, precept of; and Croesus; on virtue and wealth.\n\nSolstice, winter and summer.\n\nSons, conspicuous examples of deaths of.\n\nSoos, story of.\n\nSoothsaying, birds for; in Homer.\n\nSophocles, quotation from; paraphrase of Homer by.\n\nSorrow, advice on; exhibitions of.\n\nSoul, essay on procreation of; passions of, vs. disorders of body;\nnature, essence, parts, motion of, etc.; means by which sensible, and\nprincipal part of; sympathy of, with passions of the body; Plato's\nreasoning concerning; immortality of, according to Pythagoras, Plato,\nand Homer; transmigration of the; Homer's treatment of powers and\npassions of.\n\nSounds, heard better in the night than in the day; harmonizing of.\n\nSows, farrowing of.\n\nSpace, theories of.\n\nSparta, customs in.\n\nSpartans, sayings of the; remarkable speeches of some obscure.\n\nSpeech, ill-advised freedom of; control of one's; of statesmen; value\nof, to the health; composed of nouns and verbs, according to Plato.\n\nSperm, constitution of.\n\nSpermatic emission of women.\n\nSpiders, as an omen; skill of.\n\nSpies, unpopularity resulting from.\n\nSpoils of war, fate of.\n\nSpurius, significance of name, and reason.\n\nStars, Egyptian beliefs concerning the; essence and composition; form\nof; order and place; motion and circulation, whence their light, and\nother qualities; circles about.\n\nStatesmen, may praise themselves.\n\nStealing, among Lacedaemonians.\n\nStepmother, flower which dies at name of; the herb phryxa a protection\nagainst.\n\nSteward at banquets.\n\nStilpo, and Poseidon; references to; attacked by Colotes.\n\nStoics, views of God; improbabilities spoken by; common conceptions\nagainst; contradictions of the; origin of doctrines of, with Homer.\n\nStones with special properties.\n\nStories of rivers and mountains.\n\nStratonica, Galatian woman.\n\nStrymon, river of Thrace.\n\nStyle, types of, in Homer.\n\nSummer, cause of; Stoics' view of.\n\nSun, titles of the; beliefs concerning the; Homer's opinions about;\nidentification of Apollo with.\n\nSun and Wind, fable of.\n\nSun-worship.\n\nSuperstition, essay on.\n\nSurgery in Homer.\n\nSwallows, nests of; superstitions about.\n\nSwine as an unholy animal.\n\nSword-blades, cold-hammered.\n\nSycophant, derivation of.\n\nSylia the Fortunate; Marius's treatment of.\n\nSyllables, number of, possible to make.\n\nSymposiacs.\n\nSynecdoche in Homer.\n\nTable customs, Roman; Greek, see Banquets.\n\nTable-talk (Symposiacs).\n\nTactics, Homer's knowledge of.\n\nTagyrae, oracle at.\n\nTalkativeness, essay on.\n\nTanais, river of Scythia.\n\nTarpeia, Roman traitress, and Greek parallel.\n\nTaste, cause of.\n\nTaygetus, mountain.\n\nTaylor, Jeremy, a borrower from Plutarch.\n\nTears of boar and hart.\n\nTeleclus, King.\n\nTelecrus, sayings of.\n\nTelesilla, poetess.\n\nTemper, governing the. See Anger.\n\nTemperance, wisdom of.\n\nTemples, in Rome; traitors walled up in.\n\nTenes, temple of.\n\nTenses in Homer.\n\nTeres, saying of.\n\nTerminus, the god.\n\nTerpander, Lacedaemonian musician.\n\nTeuthras, mountain.\n\nThalassius, name sung at nuptials.\n\nThales the Milesian; conception of God.\n\nTheagenes, Theban hero.\n\nTheano, wife of Pythagoras.\n\nThearidas, saying of.\n\nThectamenes.\n\nThemisteas the prophet.\n\nThemistocles.\n\nTheocritus, unlucky remarks of; paraphrase of Homer by.\n\nTheodorus of Soli, quoted.\n\nTheogony, the ancient.\n\nTheopompus; quoted.\n\nTheoretic style in Homer.\n\nTheoxenia, festival called.\n\nThermodon river of Scythia.\n\nTheseus and Pirithous.\n\nThespesius, story of.\n\nThessaly, enchantments of.\n\nThiasi, sacrifice called.\n\nThirst, causes of; increased by eating.\n\nThorycion.\n\n\"Thou art\" and \"Know thyself,\".\n\nThree accords between wine and water.\n\nThree elements necessary for moral excellence.\n\nThree parts in dancing.\n\nThunder, theories about.\n\nThunder-showers, water of.\n\nTiberius and flatterer.\n\nTides, cause of.\n\nTigris, myths of the.\n\nTimaeus, on the procreation of the soul; Atlantic by, cited.\n\nTime, defined; substance and nature of.\n\nTimoelea.\n\nTimotheus; sayings of.\n\nTimoxena, daughter of Plutarch, death of.\n\nTmolus, mountain, story of.\n\nTobacco, use of, hinted.\n\nTogas without tunics for candidates for office.\n\nTorches at nuptials.\n\nTorture, inventors of engines of, rewarded.\n\nTracking wild beasts.\n\nTragedy, origin of, with Homer.\n\nTraining of children.\n\nTraitors, parallel cases of Greek and Roman.\n\nTranquillity of mind.\n\nTransmigration of the soul.\n\nTrees, sea-water and; thrive better with rain than with watering;\ngrafting of fir, pine, etc.; so-called Iris-struck.\n\nTriangle, revered by Egyptians.\n\nTriangles, Plato's theories about.\n\nTribune of the people.\n\nTropes in Homer.\n\nTroy, women of.\n\nTruce from words, Pythagoras'.\n\nTruthfulness, honorableness of, shown in Homer.\n\nTutors, qualifications of; responsibilities of.\n\nTwins and triplets, causes of.\n\nTyphon, legends of.\n\nTyranny depicted by Homer.\n\nTyrrhene women, the.\n\nUlysses, and the Coliads; temple of, in Lacedaemon; and Circe. See\nOdysseus.\n\nUnhappiness caused by vice.\n\nUnion results in strength.\n\nUniverse, theories of the government of the; conceptions of the;\nprinciples and elements of; question as to whether it is one\n\n\n++++++++LAST PAGE OF INDEX MISSING+++++++++","title":"Complete Works of Plutarch \u2014 Volume 3: Essays and Miscellanies","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":276276}