1 Or of the whole to which he belongs—his church, school, or whatever it my be.

In this process of |19| development each period has the advantage of the culture and experience of the previous periods; the historic development of mankind, therefore, is upon the whole a development towards ever higher culture—a progression. But particular nations, and entire groups of nations, may nevertheless be thrown back into lower stages by external misfortunes, or their own internal exhaustion; important tracts of human culture may long lie fallow; progress itself may at first be accomplished in an indirect manner, through the breaking up of some imperfect form of civilisation. In defining, then, the law of historical progress in its application to particular phenomena, we must be careful to explain progress merely as the logical development of those qualities and conditions which are originally inherent in the character and circumstances of a nation, or field of culture. This development in every individual case is not necessarily an improvement; there may come disturbances and seasons of decay, in which a nation or a form of civilisation ceases to exist, and other forms work their way forward, perhaps painfully and by long and circuitous paths, to carry on the development of history. Here, too, a law is present in the historic evolution, inasmuch as its general course is determined by the nature of things; but this law is not so simple, nor this course so direct, as we might have anticipated. Moreover, as the character and sequence of the historic periods are the result of law and not of chance, the same may be said of the order and character of the various developments contained in them. Not that these developments can be constructed a priori in |20| reference to the general concept of the sphere in question; that of the State, for instance, or Religion, or Philosophy. But for each historic whole, or for each of its periods of development, a definite course is marked out by its own fundamental character, by its external circumstances, by its place in history. That the course thus prescribed by existing conditions should be actually followed, is not more wonderful than the fulfillment of any other calculation of probabilities. For, though accidental circumstances often give an impulse and a direction to the activity of individuals, it is natural and necessary that among a great number of men there should be a variety of dispositions—of culture, of character, of forms of activity, of external conditions—sufficient to furnish representatives of all the different tendencies possible under the given circumstances. It is natural and necessary that each historical phenomenon should either, by attraction or repulsion, evoke others which serve to supplement it; that the various dispositions and forces should display themselves in action; that all the different views of a question that may be taken should be stated, and all the different methods of solving given problems should be tried. In a word, the regular course and organic articulation of history are not an a priori postulate; but the nature of historic conditions and the constitution of the human mind involve that the historic development should, notwithstanding all the contingency of the individual, follow, on the whole and in the main, a fixed law; and to recognize the working of such regularity in any given case, we need not abandon the terra firma of |21| facts, we need only examine the facts thoroughly, and draw the conclusions to which they themselves contain the premises.
  What we ask, therefore, is but the complete application of a purely historic method. We would have no theoretic construction of history, proceeding from theory to fact; our history must be built up from below, out of the materials that are actually given. It stands to reason, however, that these materials cannot be made use of in their rough state; we* must call in the aid of a searching historical analysis to determine the essence and internal connection of all the phenomena concerned.
  This conception of our problem will not, I trust, be open to the charges raised against the Hegelian construction of history. Rightly understood, it can never lead to the distortion of facts, or the sacrifice of the free movement of history to an abstract formalism, since it is upon historical facts and traditions, and upon these alone, that we propose to base our reasoning as to the relation of past phenomena: only in what has been freely produced shall we seek for historical necessity. If this be thought impossible and paradoxical, we might appeal to the universal conviction of the rule of a Divine Providence—a conception which before all things implies that the course of history is not fortuitous, but is determined by a higher necessity. In case, however, we are dissatisfied (as we may reasonably be) with an argument resting solely on faith, we have only to examine more closely the concept of liberty to convince ourselves that liberty is something other than caprice or chance, that the free activity of man has its inborn |22| measure in the primitive essence of spirit, and in the laws of human nature; and that by virtue of this internal subjection to law, even what is really fortuitous in the individual act becomes necessity in the grand course of historic evolution. To follow this course in detail is the main problem of history.
  Whether in regard to the history of Philosophy it is necessary or even advantageous for the writer to possess any philosophic conviction of his own, is a question that would scarcely have been raised had not the dread of a philosophic construction of history caused some minds to overlook the most simple and obvious truths. Few would maintain that the history of law, for instance, would find its best exponent in a person who had no opinions on the subject of jurisprudence; or political history, in one who embraced no theory of politics. It is hard to see why it should be otherwise with the history of Philosophy. How can the historian even understand the doctrines of the philosophers; by what standard is he to judge of their importance; how can he discern the internal connection of the systems, or form any opinion respecting their reciprocal relations, unless he is guided in his labours by fixed philosophic principles? But the more developed and mutually consistent these principles are, the more must we ascribe to him a definite system; and since clearly developed and consistent principles are undoubtedly to be desired in a writer of history, we cannot avoid the conclusion that it is necessary and good that he should bring with him to the study of the earlier Philosophy a philosophic system of his own. |23| It is possible, indeed, that his system may be too contracted to interpret for him the meaning of his predecessors; it is also possible that he may apply it to history in a perverse manner, by introducing his own opinions into the doctrines of previous philosophers, and constructing out of his own system that which he should have tried to understand by its help. But we must not make the general principle answerable for these faults of individuals; and still less can we hope to escape them by entering on the history of Philosophy devoid of any philosophic conviction. The human mind is not like a tabula rasa, the facts of history are not simply reflected in it like a picture on a photographic plate, but every view of a given occurrence is arrived at by independent observation, combination, and judgment of the facts. Philosophic impartiality, therefore, does not consist in the absence of all presuppositions, but in bringing to the study of past events presuppositions that are true. The man who is without any philosophic standpoint is not on that account without any standpoint whatever; he who has formed no scientific opinion on philosophic questions has an unscientific opinion about them. To say that we should bring to the history of Philosophy no philosophy of our own, really means that in dealing with it we should give the preference to unscientific notions as compared with scientific ideas. And the same reasoning would apply to the assertion 1 that the historian ought to form his system in the course of writing his history, from history itself; that by means of history he is to emancipate |24| himself from any preconceived system, in order thus to attain the universal and the true.

1 By Wirth in the Jahrbücher der Gegenwart, 1844, 709 sq.

|24 cont.| From what point of view then is he to regard history, that it may do him this service? From the false and narrow point of view which he must quit that he may rightly comprehend history? or from the universal point of view which history itself must first enable him to attain? The one is manifestly as impracticable as the other, and we are ultimately confined within this circle: that he alone completely understands the history of Philosophy who possesses true and complete philosophy; and that he only arrives at true philosophy who is led to it by understanding history. Nor can this circle ever be entirely escaped: the history of Philosophy is the test of the truth of systems; and to have a philosophic system is the condition of a man’s understanding history. The truer and the more comprehensive a philosophy is, the better will it teach us the importance of previous philosophies; and the more unintelligible we find the history of Philosophy, the greater reason have we to doubt the truth of our own philosophic conceptions. But the only conclusion to be drawn from this is that we ought never to regard the work of science as finished in the historic any more than in the philosophic domain. As in a general manner, Philosophy and Experimental Science mutually require and condition one another, so it is here. Each forward movement of philosophic knowledge offers new points of view to historic reflection, facilitates the comprehension of the earlier systems, of their interconnection and relations; while, on the other hand, each newly attained perception of the |25| manner in which the problems of Philosophy have been solved or regarded by others, and of the internal connection and consequences of their theories, instructs us afresh concerning the questions which Philosophy has to answer, the different courses it may pursue in answering them, and the consequences which may be anticipated from the adoption of each course.
  But it is time that we should approach our subject somewhat more closely.

Top ↑

Chapter II. Origin of Greek Philosophy

§ 1. Is Greek Philosophy Derived from Oriental Speculation?

  In order to explain the growth of Greek Philosophy, we must first enquire out of what historical conditions it arose; whether it evolved itself as a native product from the spirit and culture of the Greek people, or was transplanted from without into Hellenic soil, and grew up under foreign influences. The Greeks, we know, were early inclined to ascribe to the Eastern nations (the only nations whose culture preceded their own) a share in the origin of their philosophy; but in the most ancient period, certain isolated doctrines merely were thus derived from the East. 1 As far as our information extends, not the Greeks, but the Orientals, were the first to attribute such an origin to Greek Philosophy generally. The Jews of the Alexandrian school, educated under Greek influences, sought by means of this theory to explain the supposed harmony of their sacred writings with the doctrines of the Hellenes, agreeably to their own standpoint and interests; 2

1 Cf. infra, the chapters on Pythagoras and Plato.
2 Further details on this subject will be found in the chapter relating to the Judaic Alexandrian Philosophy.

and in the same manner the Egyptian priests, after they had become |27| acquainted, under the Ptolemies, with Greek Philosophy, made great boast of the wisdom, which not only prophets and poets, but also philosophers were said to have acquired from them. 1 Somewhat later, the theory gained admittance among the Greeks themselves.

1 We find nothing in Herodotus as to any Egyptian origin of Greek Philosophy. In regard to religion, on the other hand, he not only maintains that certain Greek cults and doctrines (especially the worship of Dionysus and the doctrine of Transmigration, ii. 49, 123) were imported from Egypt to Greece, but says in a general manner (ii. 52) that the Pelasgi at first adored their deities simply under the name of the gods, and afterwards received the particular names of these gods (with the few exceptions enumerated in c. 50) from Egypt. That this assertion is chiefly founded on the statements of the Egyptian priest appears probable from c. 50; and still more from c. 50, where Herodotus relates from the mouth of these priests a story of two women who, carried off by Phoenicians from the Egyptian Thebes, founded the first oracles—one in Hellas, the other in Libya. This story manifestly arose from a rationalistic interpretation of the Dodonaic legend of the two doves (c. 55), and was imposed on the credulous stranger through the assurances of the priests, that what they told about the fate of these women they had ascertained by repeated enquiries. As the priests then represented themselves to be the founders of the Greek religion, so at a later period they claimed to be the founders of Greek Philosophy. Thus Crantor (ap. Proclus in Timaeus 24 B) says, in reference to the Platonic myth of the Athenians and Atlantides: μαρτυροῦσι δὲ καὶ of προφῆται τῶν Αἰγυπτίων ἐν στήλαις ταῖς ἔτι σωζομέναις ταῦτα γεγράφθαι λέγοντες—there with giving a valuable hint for estimating the worth of such statements; and Diodorus asserts, 1. 96: the Egyptian priests related, ἐκ τῶν ἀναγραφῶν τῶν ἐν ταῖς ἱεραῖς βίβλοις, that Orpheus, Museus, Lycurgus, Solon, etc., had come to them; and moreover, Plato, Pythagoras, Eudoxus, Democritus, and Oenopides from Chios, and that relics of these men were still shown in Egypt. These philosophers had borrowed from the Egyptians the doctrines, arts, and institutions which they transmitted to the Hellenes; Pythagoras, for example, his geometry, his theory of numbers, and transmigration; Democritus, his astronomical knowledge; Lycurgus, Plato and Solon, their laws.

|27 cont.| When Greek Philosophy, despairing of its own powers, began to expect its salvation from some higher revelation, and to seek for such a revelation in religious traditions, it was natural that the doctrines of the ancient thinkers should |28| be ascribed to the same source; and the more difficulty there was in explaining these doctrines from native tradition, the more readily was their origin attributed to races, long since revered as the teachers of the Greeks, and whose wisdom enjoyed the highest reputation, because the unknown has generally a charm for the imagination, and seen, as it must be, through a mysterious haze, is wont to look greater than it really is. Thus, after the period of Neo-Pythagoreism there spread, chiefly from Alexandria, the belief that the most important of the ancient philosophers had been instructed by Eastern priests and sages, and that their most characteristic doctrines had been taken from this source. This opinion in the following centuries became more and more general, and the later Neo-Platonists especially carried it to such an extent that, according to them, the philosophers had been scarcely more than the promulgators of doctrines perfected ages before in the traditions of the Asiatic races. No wonder that Christian authors, even after the time of the Reformation, continued the same strain, doubting neither the Jewish statements as to the dependence of Greek Philosophy on the religion of the Old Testament, nor the stories which made Phoenicians, Egyptians, Persians, Babylonians and Hindoos the instructors of the ancient philosophers. 1

1 Among these the Alexandrians were again preeminent. Clement dwells with especial predilection on this theme in his Stromata. Plato to him is simply ὸ ἐξ Ἑβραίων φιλόσοφος (Stromata 1. 274 B); and the Hellenic philosophers generally are represented as having borrowed portions of the truth from the Hebrew prophets, and given them out as their own (ibid. 312 C, 320 A).

Modern science has long ago discarded the fables of the Jews respecting the intercourse of the |29| Greek sages with Moses and the prophets; but the idea that Greek Philosophy partly or entirely originated in the Pagan East has more facts to urge in its behalf. It has also found support in the high opinion of Oriental wisdom induced by our better acquaintance with the Chinese, Persian and Indian sacred records, and by our researches into Egyptian antiquity; an opinion which harmonizes with certain philosophical speculations concerning a primitive revelation and a golden age. More sober philosophy, indeed, questioned the truth of these speculations, and thoughtful students of history sought vainly for traces of that high culture which was said to have adorned the childhood of the world. Our admiration, too, for the Oriental Philosophy, of which, according to its enthusiastic admirers, only some fragments had reached the Greeks, has been considerably modified by our growing knowledge of its true content and character. When, in addition to this, the old uncritical manner of confusing separate modes of thought had been abandoned, and every notion began to be studied in its historical connection, and in relation with the peculiar character and circumstances of the people among whom it appeared, it was natural that the differences of Greek and Oriental cultivation, and the self-dependence of the Greek, should again be more strongly emphasized by those best acquainted with classical antiquity. Still, there have not been wanting, even quite recently, some to maintain that the East had a decisive influence on the earliest Greek Philosophy; and the whole question seems by no means so entirely settled that the History of Philosophy can avoid its repeated discussion.
  |30| One point, however, is to be noted, the neglect of which has not unfrequently brought confusion into this enquiry. In a certain sense, the influence of Oriental conceptions on Greek Philosophy may well be admitted even by those who consider that Philosophy to be purely a Greek creation. The Greeks, like the other Indo-Germanic races, arose out of Asia, and from this their earliest home they must originally have brought with them, together with their language, the general groundwork of their religion and manners. After they had reached their later abodes, they were still open to influences which reached them from the Oriental nations, partly through Thrace and the Bosphorus, partly by way of the Aegean and its islands. The national character of Greece, therefore, was even in its origin under the influence of the Oriental spirit, and Greek religion, especially, can only be understood on the supposition that foreign rites and religious ideas from the North and Southeast were super-added to the faith of Greek antiquity, and, in a lesser degree, even to that of the Homeric age. The latest of these immigrant gods, such as Dionysus, Cybele, and the Phoenician Heracles, can now with sufficient certainty be proved alien in their origin; while in the case of others, in the present stage of the enquiry, we have still to be content with doubtful conjectures. In considering the Oriental origin of Greek philosophy, however, we can only take into account those Eastern influences, the entrance of which had nothing to do with the early religion of Greece, or the development of the Greek character generally: for the scope of our work involves our regarding |31| the philosophy of the Greeks, at any rate primarily, as a product of the Greek spirit; and to enquire how that spirit was formed would be beside the purpose of the History of Philosophy. Only in so far as the Oriental element maintained itself in its specific character, side by side with the Hellenic element, are we now concerned with it. If, indeed, Röth were correct in asserting, as he does, 1 that Philosophy did not spring from the civilisation and spiritual life of the Greeks, but was transplanted among them as something foreign, and that the whole circle of notions lying at its root came ready made from without, then, and then only, we might derive Greek Philosophy absolutely from the East. But if, on the other hand, it was the immediate product of the Greek philosophers’ own reflection, in that case it has essentially a native origin, and the question can no longer be whether, as a whole, it came from the East, but whether Oriental doctrines had any share in its formation, how far this foreign influence extended, and to what extent we can still recognize in it the Oriental element proper, as distinct from the Hellenic element. These different cases have not always hitherto been sufficiently discriminated; and the advocates of Oriental influence especially have frequently neglected to explain whether the foreign element came into Philosophy directly or through the medium of the Greek religion. There is a wide difference between the two alternatives, and it is with the former alone that we are here concerned.

1 Geschichte unserer abendländischen Philosophie, i, 74, 241.

  Those who maintain that Greek Philosophy originally |32| came from the East, support their opinion partly on the statements of the ancients, and partly on the supposed internal affinity between Greek and Oriental doctrines. The first of these proofs is very unsatisfactory. Later writers, it is true, particularly the adherents of the Neo-Pythagorean and Neo-Platonic Schools, speak much of the wisdom which Thales, Pherecydes and Pythagoras, Democritus and Plato, owed to the teaching of Egyptian priests, Chaldeans, Magi, and even Brahmans. But this evidence could only be valid if we were assured that it rested on a trustworthy tradition, reaching back to the time of these philosophers themselves. And who can guarantee us such an assurance? The assertions of these comparatively recent authors respecting the ancient philosophers must be cautiously received even when they mention their references; for their historical sense and critical faculty are almost invariably so dull, and the dogmatic presuppositions of subsequent philosophy are so intrusively apparent in their language, that we can trust very few of them even for a correct version of their authorities, and in no single instance can we hope for a sound judgment concerning the worth and origin of those authorities, or an accurate discrimination of the genuine from the spurious, the fabulous from the historic. Indeed, when anything, otherwise unknown to us, is related by them of Plato, Pythagoras, or any of the ancient philosophers without any reference to authorities, we may take for granted that the story is founded, in the great majority of cases, neither on fact nor on respectable tradition, but at best on some unauthenticated rumour, and still oftener, perhaps, on a misunderstanding, |33| an arbitrary conjecture, a dogmaticpresupposition, or even a deliberate invention. This is true in an especial manner of the question as to the relation of Greek Philosophy with the East; for, on the one hand, the Orientals had the strongest inducements of vanity and self-interest to invent an Eastern origin for Greek science and culture; and, on the other, the Greeks were only too ready to allow the claim. It is precisely with such unauthenticated statements that we have here to do, and these statements are so suspiciously connected with the peculiar standpoint of the authors who make them, that it would be very rash to build hypotheses of great importance in history on a foundation so insecure. If we put aside, then, these untrustworthy witnesses, and have recourse to older authorities, the result is no better; we find either that they assert much less than the later writers, or that their assertions are based far more upon conjecture than historical knowledge. Thales may have been in Egypt: we have no certain evidence of the fact; but it is not likely that he there learned more than the first rudiments of mathematics. That Pythagoras visited that country, and that his whole philosophy originated thence, was first asserted by Isocrates, in a passage which is more than suspected of being a rhetorical fiction. Herodotus says nothing about his having come to Egypt, and represents him as having derived from the Egyptians only a very few doctrines and customs, and these at third hand. The distant journeys of Democritus are better attested; but what he learnt in the course of them from the barbarians we are not certainly informed, for the story of |34| the Phoenician Atomist Mochus deserves no credit. 1 Plato’s travels in Egypt also seem to be historical, and have at any rate much more evidence in their favour than the subsequent and improbable statements as to his intercourse with Phoenicians, Jews, Chaldeans and Persians. Whatever later authors may have said, or rather surmised, about the fruits of these travels, Plato himself clearly expresses his own opinion of the wisdom of the Egyptians, when he ascribes to the Greeks, as their special characteristic, a taste for knowledge, and to the Egyptians, as to the Pheenicians, a love of gain. 2 As a fact, he praises them in various passages, not for philosophic discoveries, but for technical arts and political institutions; 3 there is not a trace, either in his own writings or in credible tradition, of his having taken his philosophy from them. Thus the assertions as to the dependence of Greek on Oriental Philosophy, when we exclude those that are wholly untrustworthy, and rightly understand the rest, dwindle down to a very small number; even these are not altogether beyond question, and at most only prove that the Greeks in particular cases may have received certain impulses from the East, not that their whole philosophy was imported from thence.

1 Further details, infra.
2 Republic iv. 435 E. A passage on which Ritter, in his careful enquiry into the oriental origin of Greek philosophy, rightly lays much stress. Geschichte der Philosophie 1. 153 sqq.
3 Cf. Zeller, Philosophie der Griechen Part ii. a, p. 358, note 2; also Brandis, Handbuch der Geschichte der Griechisch-Römischen Philosophie (1835-1866 i. 143.

  A more important result is supposed to be derived from the internal affinity of the Greek systems with Oriental doctrines. But even the two most recent advocates |35| of the theory are not agreed as to the precise meaning of this affinity. Gladisch, on the one hand, 1 thinks it evident that the principal pre-Socratic systems reproduced without any material alteration the theories of the universe of the five chief Oriental nations. The Philosophy of the Chinese, he considers, reappears in Pythagoreism; that of the Hindoos in the Eleatics; that of the Persians in Heracleitus; that of the Egyptians in Empedocles; that of the Jews in Anaxagoras. Röth, on the other hand, 2 no less distinctly affirms that ancient Greek speculation arose out of Egyptian creeds, intermingled, though not to any great extent except in the cases of Democritus and Plato, with the ideas of Zoroaster. In Aristotle, he says, Greek Philosophy first freed itself from these influences; but in Neo-Platonism Egyptian speculation once more renewed its youth, while, at the same time, the Zoroastrian doctrines, with a certain admixture of Egyptian notions, produced Christianity.

1 Einleitung in das Verständniss der Weltgeschichte, 2 Th. 1841, 1844. Das Mysterium der Aegyptischen Pyramiden und Obelisken, 1846. On Heracleitus, Zeitschrift für Alterthums-Wissenschaft, 1846, No. 121 sq., 1848; No. 28 sqq. Die verschlewrte Isis, 1849. Empedokles und die Aegypter, 1858. Heracleitos und Zoroaster, 1859. Anaxagoras und die Israeliten, 1864. Die Hyperboreer und die alten Schinesen, 1866. Die Religion und die Philosophie in ihrer Weltgeschichtlichen Entwicklung, 1852. In what follows I keep principally to this last treatise.
2 Geschichte unserer abendländischen philosophie, 1. 74 sqq., 228 sq., 459 sq. In the second part of this work he ascribes to the doctrines of Zoroaster a share in Pythagoreism.

  If we examine impartially the historical facts, we shall find ourselves compelled to reject both these theories, and the improbability of an Eastern origin and character in regard to Greek Philosophy generally will more and more appear. The phenomenon which |36| Gladisch thinks he perceives, even supposing it to exist, would admit of a twofold explanation. We might either ascribe it to an actual connection between the Pythagorean Philosophy and the Chinese, between the Eleatic and the Hindoo, etc.; or we might regard the coincidence of these doctrines as naturally resulting, without any external connection, from the universality of the Greek genius, or some other cause. In the latter case the phenomenon would give no clue to the origin of Greek Philosophy, nor, however striking such a fact might appear to us, would it add much to our historical knowledge of Greek science. If, on the other hand, there were really such an external historical connection as Gladisch assumes 1 between these Greek systems and their Eastern prototypes, we ought to be able in some way or other to prove the possibility of such a connection; to show, from a survey of the actual circumstances, that there was a probability of such accurate intelligence concerning Chinese and Hindoo doctrines having reached Pythagoras and Parmenides; we must explain the inconceivable phenomenon that the different Oriental ideas did not become intermingled on their way to Greece, nor in Greece itself, but arrived there and maintained themselves separately, side by side, so as to produce exactly the same number of Greek systems, and that in the very order corresponding to the geographical and historical position of the peoples among whom they arose.

1 Cf. especially, in reference to this, Anaxagoras und die Israeliten, x. sq.

Lastly, we must give some kind of answer to the question how theories, so evidently borrowed from Parmenides by |37| Empedocles and Anaxagoras, and so deeply rooted in their own doctrines that they must be considered their scientific points of departure (e.g, the impossibility of an absolute origination or decease), could be derived in the case of one philosopher from India, in that of a second from Egypt, in that of a third from Palestine. All this appears equally impossible, whether we suppose the influence of Oriental doctrines on Greek Philosophy to have been indirect or direct. That it is impossible to believe in a direct influence of the kind Gladisch himself admits; 1 appealing, with justice, to the utterances of Aristotle and of the other ancient authors concerning the origin of the systems anterior to Plato, and urging the reciprocal interdependence of these systems. But does the theory become more probable if we assume that the Oriental element ‘entered Philosophy through the instrumentality of Greek religion?’? 2 Where do we find in Greek religion, especially in the religious tradition of the centuries which gave birth to the pre-Socratic Philosophy (except, indeed, in the dogma of transmigration), a trace of all the doctrines to which the philosophers are said to have been led by it? How is it credible that a speculative system like the Vedanta Philosophy should be communicated by means of Greek mythology to Parmenides; and Judaic monotheism, by means of Hellenic polytheism, to Anaxagoras? How could the Oriental doctrines after their convergence in the Greek religion have issued from it unchanged in this definite order?

1 Einleitung in das Verstāndniss, etc. ii, 376 sq. Anaxagoras und die Israeliten xi. sq.
2 Anaxagoras und die Israeliten xiii.

And |38| if they had done so, how can that which the various philosophies produced from the same source (their national religion), even when they undoubtedly borrowed it one from the other, be referred to utterly different Oriental sources? It is easy to meet these objections, which might be greatly multiplied, by saying, 1 whether all this be possible, and how it may have come about, we will not here enquire, but content ourselves at present with simply establishing the facts. Such an answer might suffice if the evidence for the facts only included the hearing of unimpeachable witnesses, and a comparison of their testimony. But that is by no means the case. The proofs of the parallelism between Greek and Oriental doctrines which Gladisch claims to have discovered, would, under any circumstances, demand investigations much too complicated to leave the question of its possibility and reasonableness wholly untouched. If we consider his own representation of this parallelism, we are met at decisive points by such uncritical reliance on interpolated writings and untrustworthy statements, such confusion of earlier and later authorities, such arbitrary interpretation of the theories concerned, that it is plain we have to do not merely with the proof of the historical fact, but with a connection and interpretation extending much farther. 2

1 Loc. cit. xiv.
2 Cf. what is said, infra, of Heracleitus, of Empedocles, and of Anaxagoras; also in the text of this passage, as it appeared in the second and third editions, about the Pythagorean and Eleatic Philosophy (Zeller, Philosophie der Griechen 3rd ed. p. 29 sq.) This I do not repeat here, not because Gladisch’s counter-arguments seem to me unanswerable, but because a thorough refutation of his hypothesis would require more space than I can devote to it, and because the derivation of Pythagoreism from China, and the doctrines of Parmenides from India is really inconceivable, and has never been elsewhere entertained.

We |39| become involved, as already remarked, in the following contradictions: that characteristics equally to be found in several Greek philosophers must have had an entirely different origin in every case; that doctrines evidently borrowed by one philosopher from another must have been communicated independently to both from an Eastern source, and to each man from a separate Eastern source; 1 that systems which evolved themselves out of one another, in a historic sequence which is indisputable, must each have merely reproduced what it had already received, irrespectively of that sequence, from this or that Oriental predecessor. How little this construction of Gladisch comports with actual facts may also be seen from the impossibility 2 of bringing into connection with it two such radical and important phenomena in the history of Greek Philosophy as the Ionic Physics before Heracleitus, and the Atomistic Philosophy.

1 Cf. supra, p. 36. Thus according to Gladisch, Pythagoras got his doctrine of Transmigration from China (where, however, it did not originate), and Empedocles his from Egypt.
2 In regard to the Atomistic philosophy, Gladisch attempts to justify this (Anaxagoras und die Israeliten xiv.) by saying that it was developed from the Eleatie doctrine. But the dependence is in this case no other and no greater than in the case of Anaxagoras and Empedocles; and Atomistic has an equal right with their doctrines to be considered an independent system. The omission of Thales, Anaximander, and Anaximenes, Gladisch (loc. cit.) leaves unexplained. Yet Thales is the founder of Greek Philosophy, and Anaximander the immediate predecessor of Heracleitus.

  |39 cont.| As to Röth, his view can only be properly considered in the examination of the separate Greek systems. So far as it is carried out, I am, however, unable to agree with it, because I fail to see in his exposition of Egyptian theology a faithful historical picture. I cannot |40| now enter into a discussion of the philosophy of religion, nor stop to refute the theory 1 that abstract concepts, such as spirit, matter, time and space, and not presentations of personal beings, formed the original content of the Egyptian religion, and other religions of antiquity. I must also leave the task of examining the results which Röth derives 2 from Oriental texts and hieroglyphic monuments to those better acquainted with the subject. For the purposes of the present enquiry, it is enough to notice that the affinity assumed by Röth between the Egyptian and Persian doctrines, and the myths and philosophic systems of the Greeks, can only be proved, even on the author’s own showing, if we consent to repose unlimited confidence in untrustworthy witnesses, uncertain conjectures and groundless etymologies. If, indeed, each transference of the names of Greek gods to foreign deities were an adequate proof of the identity of these gods, the Greek religion would hardly be distinguishable from the Egyptian; if it were permissible to seek out barbarian etymologies, even where the Greek signification of a word is ready to hand, 3 we might perhaps suppose the whole mythology, together with the names of the gods, to have emigrated from the East to Greece; 4

1 Loc. cit. p. 50 sq., 228, 131 sqq.
2 e.g. p. 131 sqq., 278 sqq.
3 As, for instance, when Röth derives Pan and Persephone from the Egyptian language; translating Pan as Deus egressus, the emanated creative spirit (loc. cit. 140, 284), and Persephone (p. 162) as the slayer of Perses, i.e. of Bore—Seth or Typhon; whereas it is clear that the root of Πὰν is πάω, Ion. πατέομαι, Lat. pasco; and that Περσεφόνη, as well as Πέρσης and Περσεύς, comes from πέρθω: and that Greek mythology says nothing of a creator spirit Pan, or of a Perses in the sense of Typhon (if even one of the Hesiodic Titans be so named), or of any slaying of this Perses by Persephone.
4 Scarcely, however, even in that case, with the facility of Röth, who on the strength of the above etymologies, and without citing any authority, transfers the whole mythus of the rape of Persephone and the wanderings of Demeter to the Egyptian mythology, in order then to assert that it first came from Egypt to the Greeks (loc. cit. p. 162).

if Iamblichus and Hermes |41| Trismegistus were classical authorities for Egyptian antiquity, we might congratulate ourselves on the ancient records 1 with which they acquaint us, and the Greek philosophical sayings which they profess to have discovered 2 in old Egyptian writings; if the Atomistic doctrine of Moschus the Phoenician were a historical fact, we might, like Röth, 3 attempt to find in the theories of Phoenician cosmology, respecting the primitive slime, the sources of a doctrine hitherto believed to have been derived from the metaphysic of the Eleatics. But if the universal principle of criticism be applicable to this, as to other cases—viz. that history accepts nothing as true the truth of which is not guaranteed by credible testimony, or by legitimate conclusions from such testimony—then this attempt of Röth will only show that the most indefatigable efforts are insufficient to prove a foreign origin in regard to the essential content of so indigenous a production as Greek science. 4

1 e.g. the book of Bitys, which Röth (p. 211 sqq.) (on the ground of a very suspicious passage in the work of the Pseudo-Iamblichus on the Mysteries) places in the eighteenth century before Christ. If this book ever existed, it was probably a late invention of the period of Alexandrian syncretism, and worth about as much, in the light of Egyptian historical evidence, as the book of Mormon is in regard to Jewish.
2 For example, the distinction of νοῦς and ψυχή. Cf. Röth’s Anmerkungen {Notes}, p. 220 sq.
3 Loc. cit. 274 sqq.
4 A more detailed examination of Röth’s hypotheses will find a fitting place in the chapter on the Pythagoreans; for, according to him, it was Pythagoras who transplanted the whole Egyptian science and theology into Greece. Cf. also what is said of Anaximander, infra.

“It must have been very astonishing to the followers of Alexander to find
among the Brahmans not only their Dionysus and Heracles,
but also their Hellenic philosophy.”–Zeller

  |42| A proof of this kind is, generally speaking, very difficult to establish when it is based solely on internal evidence. It may happen that not only particular notions and customs, but whole series of them may bear a resemblance to another series in some other sphere of civilisation; it may also happen that fundamental conceptions may seem to repeat themselves without thus affording adequate proof that they are historically interconnected. Under analogous conditions of development, and especially between races originally related to each other, many points of contact invariably arise, even when these races have no actual intercourse; chance often brings out surprising similarities in details; and among the more highly civilised races scarcely any two could be named between which striking parallels could not be drawn. But though it may be natural in that case to conjecture an external connection, the existence of this connection is only probable if the similarities are so great that they cannot be explained by the above more general causes. It must have been very astonishing to the followers of Alexander to find among the Brahmans not only their Dionysus and Heracles, but also their Hellenic philosophy; to hear of water being the origin of the world, as with Thales; of Deity permeating all things, as with Heracleitus; of a transmigration of souls, as with Pythagoras and Plato; of five elements, as with Aristotle; of the prohibition of flesh diet, as with Empedocles and the Orphics; 1 and no doubt Herodotus and his successors must have |43| been often inclined to derive Greek doctrines and usages from Egypt. But for us, all this is not sufficient proof that Heracleitus, Plato, Thales and Aristotle borrowed their theorems from the Hindoos or Egyptians.

1 Cf. the accounts of Megasthenes, Aristobulus, Onesicritus and Nearchus in Strabo xv. 1, 58 sqq., p. 712 sqq.

  |43 cont.| It is not merely, however, the want of historical evidence which prevents our believing in the Oriental origin of Greek Philosophy; there are several positive reasons against the theory. One of the most decisive lies in the general character of that philosophy. The doctrines of the most ancient Greek philosophers have, as Ritter well observes, (Geschichte der Philosophie i. 172.) all the simplicity and independence of first attempts; and their ulterior development is so continuous that the hypothesis of alien influences is never required to explain it. We see here no conflict of the original Hellenic spirit with foreign elements, no adaptation of misapprehended formule and conceptions, no return to scientific traditions of the past, in short, none of the phenomena by which, for example, in the Middle Ages, the dependence of philosophy on foreign sources is evinced. All developes itself quite naturally from the conditions of Greek national life, and we shall find that even those systems which have been supposed to be most deeply influenced by doctrines from without, are in all essential respects to be explained by the internal civilisation and spiritual horizon of the Hellenes. Such a feature would certainly be inexplicable if Greek Philosophy were really so much indebted to other countries as some writers both ancient and modern have believed. On this theory there would be another Strange and unaccountable circumstance,—that the |44| theological character of Oriental speculation should be entirely absent from Greek philosophy. Whatever science there was in Egypt, Babylonia or Persia, was in possession of the priestly caste, and had grown up in one mass with the religious doctrines and institutions. In regard to mathematics and astronomy, it is quite conceivable that Oriental science should have been detached from this its religious basis, and transplanted separately into foreign lands; but it is most improbable that the priests should have held theories about the primitive constituents and origin of the world, capable of being transmitted and adopted apart from their doctrines concerning the gods and mythology. Now in the most ancient Greek Philosophy we find no trace of Egyptian, Persian or Chaldeaean mythology, and its connection even with Greek myths is very slight. Even the Pythagoreans and Empedocles only borrowed from the mysteries such doctrines as had no intimate relation with their philosophy (that is, their attempt at a scientific explanation of nature): neither the Pythagorean doctrine of numbers, nor the Pythagorean and Empedoclean cosmology, can be connected with any theological tradition as their source. The rest of the pre-Socratic philosophy does, indeed, remind us in certain isolated notions of the mythic cosmogony, but in the main it developed itself either quite independently of the religious belief, or in express opposition to it. How could this possibly be if Greek science were an offshoot of the sacerdotal wisdom of the East?
  We must further enquire whether the Greeks at the time of their first attempts at Philosophy could have |45| been taught anything considerable in this sphere by Orientals. There is no historical or even probable evidence to show that either of the Asiatic nations with which they came in contact possessed any philosophic science. We hear, indeed, of theological and cosmological notions, but all these, so far as they really appear to go back to antiquity, are so rude and fanciful that the Greeks could scarcely have received from them any impulse towards philosophic thought which their own myths could not just as well have afforded. The sacred books of Egypt probably contained only prescripts for ritual, ecclesiastical and civil laws, interspersed perhaps with religious myths; in the scanty notices remaining of their contents there is no trace of the scientific, dogmatic theology which modern writers have sought to discover. 1

1 Röth, loc. cit. p. 112 sqq., and p. 122. He appeals to Clement, Stromata vi. 633 B sqq. Syllabus, where the Hermetic books being mentioned it is said: there are ten books. τὰ εἰς τὴν τιμὴν ἀνήκοντα τῶν παρ᾽ αὐτοῖς θεῶν καὶ τὴν Αἰγυπτίαν εὐσέβειαν περιέχοντα οἷον περὶ θυμάτων, ἀπαρχῶν, ὕμνων, εὐχῶν, πομπῶν, ἑορτῶν καὶ τῶν τούτοις ὁμοίων, and ten other books περί τε νόμων καὶ θεῶν καὶ τῆς ὅλης παιδείας τῶν ἱερέων. But that the contents of these books were even in part scientific, cannot be deduced from the words of Clement; even the last-mentioned ten probably treated, not of the nature of the gods, but of religious worship, and perhaps, in connection with this, of mythology: when Clement says that these writings contained the whole ‘Philosophy’ of the Egyptians, the word must be taken in the indeterminate sense of which I have spoken above, p. 1 sq. Moreover, we do not know in the least how old these books were, or whether they continued up to the time of Clement without alterations and additions.

To the Egyptian priests themselves, in the time of Herodotus, the thought of an Egyptian origin in regard to Greek Philosophy never seems to have occurred, eagerly as they strove, even then, to derive Greek myths, laws, and religious ceremonies from |46| Egypt, and little as they shrank from the most transparent inventions 1 in pursuance of this end. The scientific discoveries which they claim to have given to the Greeks 2 are confined to astronomical determinations of time. That the doctrine of transmigration originated in Egypt is only a conjecture of Herodotus; 3 and when he says (ii. 109) that the Greeks appear to have learnt geometry there, he founds the assertion not on Egyptian statements, as Diodorus does, but on his own observation. This justifies the supposition that in the fifth century the Egyptians had not troubled themselves much about Greek or any other Philosophy. Even Plato, judging from the previously quoted passage in the fourth book of the Republic, must have been ignorant of the existence of a Phoenician or Egyptian Philosophy. Nor does Aristotle seem to have been aware of the philosophic efforts of the Egyptians, willing as he was to acknowledge them as forerunners of the Greeks in mathematics and astronomy. 4

1 Thus (ii. 177) Solon is said to have borrowed one of his laws from Amasis, who came to the throne twenty years later than the date of Solon’s code; and (6. 118) the priests assure the historian that what they related to him about Helen they had heard from Menelaus’ own mouth. We have already seen examples of this procedure, supra, p. 27, note 1.
2 Herodotus ii. 4.
3 ii 123.
4 To the astronomical observations of the Egyptians (on the conjunctions of the planets with each other and with fixed stars) he appeals in Meteorology i. 6, 343, b 28; and in Metaphysics i. 1, 981, b 23 he says: διὸ περὶ Αἴγυπτον ai μαθηματικαὶ πρῶτον τέχναι συνέστησαν. ἐκεῖ γὰρ ἀφείθη σχολάζειν τὸ τῶν ἱερέων ἔθνος. This very passage, however, makes it probable that Aristotle knew nothing of any philosophic enquiry pursued in Egypt. He contends loc. cit. that knowledge is on a higher level when it is pursued only for the end of knowing, than when it serves the purposes of practical necessity, and observes, in connection with this, that purely theoretic sciences therefore first arose in places where people were sufficiently free from anxiety about the necessaries of |47| life to be able to devote themselves to such sciences. The above-quoted words indirectly confirm this assertion. Had Aristotle considered Philosophy as well as Mathematics to be an Egyptian product, he would have been particularly unlikely to omit it in this connection, since it is Philosophy of which he asserts that as a purely theoretical science it stands higher than all merely technical knowledge. That the rudiments of astronomy came to the Greeks from the barbarians, and more particularly from the Syrians and Egyptians, we are told in the Epinomis of Plato 986 E sq. 987 D sq. Similarly Strabo xvii. 1, 3, p. 787, ascribes the invention of Geometry to the Egyptians, and that of Arithmetic to the Phoenicians; perhaps Eudemus had already expressed the same opinion, if indeed Proclus in Euclid. 19, o (64 f. Friedl.) took this statement from him.

Democritus |47| assures us that he himself, in geometrical knowledge, was quite a match for the Egyptian sages whose acquaintance he made. 1 So late as the time of Diodorus, when Greek science had long been naturalised in Egypt, and the Egyptians in consequence claimed for themselves the visits of Plato, Pythagoras, and Democritus, 2 that which the Greeks are said to have derived from Egypt is confined to mathematical and technical knowledge, civil laws, religious institutions, and myths; 3 these only are referred to in the assertion of the Thebans (i. 50) ‘that Philosophy and the accurate knowledge of the stars was first invented among them,’ for the word Philosophy is here equivalent to Astronomy.
  Admitting, then, that the Egyptian mythologists referred to by Diodorus may have given to the conceptions of the gods a naturalistic interpretation in the spirit of the Stoics; 4

1 In the fragment in Clement, Stromata i. 304 A, where he says of himself after mentioning his distant journeys: καὶ λογίων ἀνθρώπω; πλείστων ἐσήκουσα καὶ γραμμέων ξυνθέσιος μετὰ ἀποδέξιος οὐδείς κώ με παρήλλαξε, οὐδ᾽ οἱ Αἰγυπτίων καλεόμενοι ᾿Αρπεδονάπται. The interpretation of the last word is questionable, but the term must in any case include those of the Egyptian sages who possessed the most geometrical knowledge.
2 i 96; 98.
3 Cf. c. 16, 69, 81, 96 sqq.
4 Diodorus i. 11 sq,

that later syncretists (like the |48| author of the book on the mysteries of the Egyptians, and the theologians quoted by Damascius) 1 may have imported their own speculations into Egyptian myths; that there may have existed in the time of Posidonius a Phoenician manuscript reputed to be of great antiquity, and passing under the name of the philosopher Moschus or Mochus; 2 that Philo of Byblus, under the mask of Sanchuniathon, may have constructed a rude cosmology from Phceenician and Greek myths, from the Mosaic history of creation, and from confused reminiscences of Philosophy—such questionable witnesses can in no way prove the real existence of an Egyptian and Phoenician Philosophy.
  Supposing, however, that among these nations, at the time that the Greeks became acquainted with them, philosophic doctrines had been found, the transmission of these doctrines to Greece was not at all so easy as may perhaps be imagined. Philosophic conceptions, especially in the childhood of Philosophy, are closely bound up with their expression in language, and the knowledge of foreign languages was rarely to be met with among the Greeks. On the other hand, the interpreters, educated as a rule for nothing but commercial intercourse and the explanation of curiosities, were of little use in enabling people to understand instruction in philosophy. Moreover, there is not a single allusion, on which we can rely, to the use of Oriental works by Greek philosophers, or to any translations of such works.

1 Problems and Solutions Concerning First Principles c. 125. Damascius expressly calls them of Αἰγύπτιοι καθ᾽ ἡμᾶς φιλόσοφοι γεγονότες. They are therefore the most untrustworthy source for the history of Egyptian antiquity.
2 Vide infra, the chapter on Democritus.

  |49| If we ask ourselves, lastly, by what means the doctrines of the Hindoos and the other nations of Eastern Asia could have been carried into Greece before the time of Alexander, we shall find that the matter presents numerous difficulties. All such considerations as these would, of course, yield to well-attested facts; but it is a different matter where we are concerned, not with historical facts, but for the present with mere conjectures. If the Eastern origin of Greek Philosophy were to be maintained by trustworthy evidence, or by its own internal characteristics, our conception of the sciéntitic condition of the Eastern nations and of the relation in which the Greeks stood to them must be formed in accordance with that fact; but since the fact in itself is neither demonstrable nor probable, it is rendered still more improbable by its want of harmony with what we know from other sources on these two points.

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§ 2. Native Sources of Greek Philosophy: Religion and the Mysteries

  We have no need, however, to seek for foreign antecedents: the philosophic science of the Greeks is fully explained by the genius, resources, and state of civilisation of the Hellenic tribes. If ever there was a people capable of creating its own science, the Greeks were that people. In the most ancient records of their culture, the Homeric Poems, we already meet with that freedom and clearness of spirit, that sobriety and moderation, that feeling for the beautiful and harmonious, which place these poems so distinctly above the heroic |50| legends of all other nations without exception. Of scientific endeavour, there is nothing as yet; no necessity is felt to investigate the natural causes of things; the writer is content to refer them to personal authors and divine powers, the explanation that comes uppermost in the childhood of mankind. The technical arts too, which support science, are in a very elementary stage; in the Homeric period even writing is unknown. But when we consider the glorious heroes of the Homeric Poems—when we see how everything, each phenomenon of nature, and each event of human life, is set forth in pictures which are as true as they are artistically perfect—when we study the simple and beautiful development of these masterpieces, the grandeur of their plan, and the harmonious accomplishment of their purposes, we can no longer wonder that a nation capable of apprehending the world with an eye so open, and a spirit so unclouded, of dominating the confused mass of phenomena with so admirable a sense of form, of moving in life so freely and surely—that such a nation should soon turn its attention to science, and in that field should not be satisfied merely with amassing knowledge and observations, but should strive to combine particulars into a whole, to find an intellectual focus for isolated phenomena, to form a theory of the universe based on clear conceptions, and possessing internal unity; to produce, in short, a Philosophy. How natural is the flow of events even in the Homeric world of gods! We find ourselves, indeed, in the wonderland of imagination, but how seldom are we reminded by anything fantastic or monstrous (so frequent and disturbing an |51| element in Oriental and Northern mythology) that this fabled world is wanting in the conditions of reality! Amidst all the poetry how clearly we recognise that sane and vigorous realism, that fine perception of what is harmonious and natural, to which, in later times, after deeper study of the universe and of man, this same Homeric heaven necessarily proved such a stumbling-block. Thus, although the intellectual culture of the Homeric period is separated by a wide interval from the rise of philosophy, we can already trace in it the peculiar genius out of which Philosophy sprang.
  It is the farther development of this genius as manifested in the sphere of religion, of moral and civil life, and in the general cultivation of taste and of the intellect, which constitutes the historical preparation for Greek Philosophy.
  The religion of the Greeks, like every positive religion, stands to the philosophy of that people in a relation partly of affinity and partly of opposition. What distinguishes it from the religions of all other races, however, is the freedom which from the very beginning it allowed to the evolution of philosophic thought. If we turn our attention first to the public ritual and popular faith of the Hellenes, as it is represented to us in its oldest and most authentic records, the poems of Homer and Hesiod, its importance in the development of philosophy cannot be mistaken. The religious presentation is always, and so also among the Greeks, the form in which the interdependence of all phenomena and the rule of invisible powers and universal |52| laws first attains to consciousness. However great may be the distance between faith in a divine government of the world, and the scientific knowledge and explanation of the universe as a connected whole, they have at any rate something in common. Religious faith, even under the polytheistic form it assumed in Greece, implies that what exists and happens in the world depends on certain causes concealed from sensuous perception. Nor is this all. The power of the gods must necessarily extend over all parts of the world, and the plurality of the gods is reduced to unity by the dominion of Zeus and the irresistible power of Fate. Thus the interdependence of the universe is proclaimed; all phenomena are co-ordinated under the same general causes; by degrees fear of the power of the gods and of relentless Fate yields to confidence in the divine goodness and wisdom, and a fresh problem presents itself to reflection—viz. to pursue the traces of this wisdom in the laws of the universe. Philosophy, indeed, has itself been at work in this purification of the popular faith, but the religious notion first contained the germs from which the purer conceptions of Philosophy were afterwards developed.
  The peculiar nature of Greek religious belief, also, was not without influence on Greek Philosophy. The Greek religion belongs in its general character to the class of natural religions; the Divine, as is sufficiently proved by the plurality of gods, is represented under a natural figure essentially of the same kind as the Finite, and only exalted above it in degree. Man, therefore, does not need to raise himself above the |53| world that surrounds him, and above his own actual nature, that he may enter into communion with the Deity; he feels himself related to God from the very outset. No internal change of his mode of thought, no struggle with his natural impulses and inclinations, is demanded of him; on the contrary, all that is in human nature is legitimate in the sight of God—the most godlike man is he who cultivates his human powers most effectually, and religious duty essentially consists in man’s doing to the glory of God that which is according to his own nature. The same standpoint is evident in the Philosophy of the Greeks, as will be shown further on; and, though the philosophers as a rule, took few of their doctrines directly from religious tradition, and were often openly at variance with the popular faith, still it is clear that the mode of thought to which the Hellenes had become accustomed in their religion was not without influence on their scientific tendencies. It was inevitable that from the naturalistic religion of Greece there should arise, in the first instance, a naturalistic philosophy.
  The Greek religion, furthermore, is distinguished from other naturalistic religions in that it assigns the highest place in existence neither to external nature, nor to the sensuous nature of man, as such, but to human nature that is beautiful and transfigured by spirit. Man is not, as in the East, so entirely the slave of external impressions that he loses his own independence in the forces of nature, and feels that he is but a part of nature, irresistibly involved in its vicissitudes. Neither does he seek his satisfaction in the unbridled |54| freedom of rude and half-savage races. But, while living and acting with the full sense of liberty, he considers that the highest exercise of that liberty is to obey the universal order as the law of his own nature. Although, therefore, in this religion, Deity is conceived as similar to man, it is not common human nature that is ascribed to it. Not only is the outer form of the gods idealised as the image of the purest beauty, but their essential nature, especially in the case of the Hellenic gods proper, is formed by ideals of human activities. The relation of the Greek to his gods was therefore free and happy to an extent that we find in no other nation, because his own nature was reflected and idealised in them; so that, in contemplating them, he found himself at once attracted by affinity, and elevated above the limits of his own existence, without having to purchase this boon by the pain and trouble of an internal conflict. Thus, the sensuous and natural become the immediate embodiment of the spiritual; the whole religion assumes an esthetic character, religious ideas take the form of poetry; divine worship and the object of that worship are made material for art; and though we are still, speaking generally, on the level of naturalistic religion, nature is only regarded as the manifestation of Deity, because of the spirit which reveals itself in nature. This idealistic character of the Greek religion was no doubt of the highest importance in the origin and formation of Greek philosophy. The exercise of the imagination, which gives universal significance to the particular of sense, is the preparatory stage for the exercise of the intellect which, |55| abstracting from the particular as such, seeks for the general essence and universal causes of phenomena. While, therefore, the Greek religion was based upon an ideal and esthetic view of the world, and encouraged to the utmost all artistic activity in setting forth this view, it must have had indirectly a stimulating and emancipating effect upon thought, and have prepared the way for the scientific study of things. From a material point of view, this idealistic tendency of religion was beneficial principally to Ethics; but from a formal point of view, the influence of religion extended to all parts of Philosophy; for Philosophy presupposes and requires an endeavour to treat the sensible as a manifestation of spirit, and to trace it back to spiritual causes. Some of the Greek philosophers may possibly have been too rash in their procedure in that respect; but this we shall not at present consider. The more readily we admit that their doctrines often give us the impression of a philosophic poem full of bold inventions, rather than a work of science, the more clearly we shall see the connection of those doctrines with the artistic genius of the Greek nation, and with the aesthetic character of its religion.
  But although Greek Philosophy may owe much to religion, it owes more to the circumstance that its dependence on religion never went so far as to prevent, or essentially to restrict, the free movement of science. The Greeks had no hierarchy, and no inviolable dogmatic code. The sacerdotal functions were not with them the exclusive property of a class, nor were the priests the only mediators between the gods and men; but |56| each individual for himself, and each community for itself, had a right to offer up sacrifices and prayers. In Homer, we find kings and chiefs sacrificing for their subjects, fathers for their families, each person for himself, without the intervention of priests. Even ata later period, when the development of a public cult in temples gave more importance to the sacerdotal order, the functions of the priests were always limited to certain offerings and ceremonial observances in their particular localities; prayers and sacrifices were still offered by the laity, and a whole class of matters relating to religious ceremonial were left, not to priests, but to public functionaries designated by election, or by lot—in part in combination with officers of the community or state—to individuals and heads of families. The priests, therefore, as a class, could never acquire an influential position in Greece at all comparable with that which they enjoyed among the Oriental nations. 1

1 This, by the way, is one of the most striking arguments against the hypothesis of any considerable transmission of cults and myths into Greece from the East; for these Oriental cults are so closely bound up with the hierarchical system that they could only have been transmitted in connection with it. If this had anywhere been the case, we should find the importance of the priests become greater the farther we went back into antiquity, whereas in point of fact it is exactly the contrary.

|56 cont.| Priests of certain temples, it is true, did attain to considerable importance on account of the oracles connected with those temples, but, on the whole, the priestly office conferred far more honour than influence; it was a political dignity, in respect to which reputation and external qualifications were more regarded than any particular mental capability; and Plato (Politicus 290 C.) is quite in harmony |57| with the spirit of his country when he makes the priests, in spite of all the honours accorded to them, merely servants of the commonwealth. 1 But where there is no hierarchy, a dogmatic code, in the sense of a general law of faith, is manifestly impossible; for there are no organs to frame and maintain it. Even in itself, however, it would have been contrary to the essence of Greek religion. That religion is not a finished and perfected system that had grown up from one particular spot. The ideas and traditions which the Greek races brought with them from their original abodes were carried by each individual tribe, community and family into different surroundings, and subjected to influences of the most various kinds. Thus, there arose a multiplicity of local rites and legends; and from these, a common Hellenic faith gradually developed itself, not by the systematising of theology, but by a free convergence of minds; in which convergence the most important factor, beside the personal intercourse and religious ceremonies of the national games and festivals, was Art, and above all, Poetry. This explains the fact, that in Greece there was never, properly speaking, a system of religious doctrine generally admitted, but only a mythology; and that the conception of orthodoxy was absolutely unknown. Every one was indeed required to honour the gods of the State; and those who were convicted of withholding the prescribed honours, or of trying to overthrow the religion of the State, were often visited with the severest punishments.

1 Cf. Hermann. Lehrbuch der Griechischen Antiquitäten, ii. 158 sqq., 44 sq. for more detailed proofs of the above statements.

But |58| though Philosophy itself was thus hardly dealt with, in the person of some of its representatives, on the whole, the relation of individuals to the faith of the community was far freer than among nations who possessed a definite confession of faith guarded by a powerful priesthood. The severity of the Greeks against religious innovation had immediate reference not to doctrines, but to cult; only so far as a doctrine seemed to involve consequences prejudicial to public worship did it become the object of attack. As to theological opinions, properly so called, they were left unmolested. The Greek religion possessed neither a body of theological doctrine nor written sacred records. It was founded entirely upon traditions respecting the temples, descriptions of the poets, and notions of the people: moreover, there was scarcely any tradition which was not contradicted by others, and in that way lost much of its authority. Thus, in Greece, faith was too indefinite and elastic in its form to admit of its exercising upon reason either an internal supremacy, or an external restraint, to the extent that we find to have been the case in other countries.
  This free attitude of Greek science in respect to religion was full of important results, as will be evident if we consider what would have become of Greek Philosophy, and indirectly of our own, without this freedom. All the historical analogies that we can adduce will give us but one answer; namely, that the Greeks would then have been as little able as the Oriental nations to attain an independent philosophic science. The speculative impulse might indeed have been awake, |59| but, jealously watched as it would have been by theology, internally cramped by religious presuppositions, and shackled in its free movement, thought could scarcely have produced anything more than a religious speculation akin to the ancient theologic cosmologies; and even supposing that at a much later period it had turned to other questions, it could never have had the acuteness, freshness, and freedom by which the Philosophy of Greece became the teacher of all the ages. The Hindoos were the most speculative nation of the East, and their civilisation was of the highest antiquity, yet how greatly inferior were they, as regards philosophic achievement, to the Greeks! The same must be said of the Christian and Mohammedan Philosophy in the Middle Ages, though this had the advantage of being preceded by the Greek. In both cases, the principal cause of the inferiority manifestly lay in the dependence of science upon positive dogmas; and the Greeks are to be considered as singularly fortunate in having escaped this dependence through the force of their peculiar genius, and the favourable course of their historical development.
  It has been usually supposed that between Philosophy and the religion of the mysteries a closer bond exists. In the mysteries, according to this view, a purer, or at any rate a more speculative, theology was imparted to the initiated; and, by means of the mysteries, the secret doctrines of Eastern priests were transmitted to the Greek philosophers, and through them to the Greek people in general. But this theory has no better foundation than the one we have just been |60| discussing in regard to Oriental Science. It is proved beyond a doubt, by the most recent and thorough investigations 1 of the subject, that originally no philosophic doctrines were conveyed in these religious ceremonies; and that at a later period, when such doctrines began to be connected with the mysteries, this occurred under the influence of scientific researches. Philosophy, therefore, should be regarded rather as having imparted wisdom to the mysteries than as having received it from them. The mysteries were originally, as we have every reason to believe, ritualistic solemnities, which, in their religious import and character, differed nothing from the public worship of the gods, and were only carried on in secret because they were designed for some particular community, sex, or class, to the exclusion of any other, or because the nature of the divinities to whom they were sacred demanded this form of cult. The first, for example, applies to the mysteries of the Idan Zeus and the Argive Here, the second to the Eleusinian mysteries, and especially to the secret rites of the Chthonian deities. Mysteries first appeared in a certain opposition to public religion, partly because elder cults and forms of worship which had gradually disappeared from the one were maintained in the other, and partly because foreign rites like those of the Thracian Dionysus and |61| the Phrygian Cybele were introduced as private cults under the form of mysteries, and blended themselves, in course of time, more or less with the ancient secret rites.

1 Among which the following have been chiefly consulted: Lobeck’s fundamental work (Aglaophamus, 1829), and the short but thorough exposition of Hermann (Lehrbuch der griechischen Antiquitäten. ii. 149 sqq.), especially Preller’s Demeter und Persephone, as well as his investigations in Pauly’s Real-Encyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft (under the headings Mythologie, Mysteria, Eleusinia, Orpheus); lastly, the Griechische Mythologie of the same author. On the mysteries in general, cf. also Hegel’s Geschichte der Philosophie., 301 sq.; Aesthetik, ii. 57 sq.; Philosophie der Religion ii. 150 sqq.

|61 cont.| But in neither case can the mysteries have contained philosophic theorems, or doctrines of a purer theology essentially transcending the popular faith. 1 This is sufficiently proved by the circumstance that the mysteries most frequently celebrated were accessible to all the Greeks. For even had the priests possessed any higher wisdom, how could they have imparted it to such a mixed multitude? And what are we to think of a secret philosophic doctrine into which a whole nation could be initiated without a long course of previous instruction, and without having its faith shaken in the traditional mythology? Speaking generally, it is not at all in keeping with the habits of the ancients to take advantage of ceremonial observances for the purpose of instructing the people by means of religious discourses. A Julian might make the attempt in imitation of Christian customs; but in classical times there is not a single instance of it, nor does any trustworthy witness ever assert that the mysteries were designed for the instruction of those who took part in them. Their particular end appears far more in those sacred rites, the witnessing of which was the privilege of the initiated (Epoptae);

1 As Lobeck, loc. cit. i. 6 sqq., has exhaustively shown. Leibniz, with the sound historical judgment which distinguishes him, expresses himself to the same effect in the Preface to the Theodicee, section 2.

|61 cont.| whatever oral communication was combined with these ceremonies seems to have been restricted to short liturgical formulae, directions for the performance of the holy rites, and sacred traditions (ἱεροὶ λόγοι), like |62| those which were elsewhere connected with particular acts of worship; tales about the founding of cults and holy places, about the names, origin, and history of the gods to whom this worship was sacred; in a word, mythological explanations of the cult given by the priests, or even by laymen, to those who asked for them. These liturgical and mythological elements were afterwards made use of to combine philosophical and theological doctrines with the mysteries, but that such was the case from the beginning is a theory without foundation. There is no trustworthy authority for it, and on general grounds it is unlikely that the mythopeic imagination should ever have been dominated by philosophic points of view: or that at a later period there should have been introduced into mystic usages and traditions ideas and hypotheses which the scientific reflection of the Greeks had not as yet attained. In course of time, indeed, with the deepening of the moral consciousness, the mysteries gradually acquired a higher signification. When the school of the Orphics, whose doctrines from the first are parallel to Greek Philosophy, 1 was founded in the |63| sixth century before Christ, or even earlier, the influence of the philosophers upon this mystic theology seems to have been far greater than the reaction of the theologians upon Philosophy; and the more we consider particular detail, the more doubtful it becomes whether on the whole Philosophy ever borrowed anything considerable from the mysteries or mystic doctrines.

1 The first certain trace of the Orphic writings, and of the Orphico-Dionysiac consecrations, is to be found in the well-attested statement (vide Lobeck, loc. cit. i. 331 sqq., 397 sqq., 692 sqq.; cf. Gerhard, Ueber Orpheus und die Orphiker, Abhandlungen der Berlin Akademie 1861; Philosophisch-historische Klasse p. 22, 75; Schuster, De Veteris Orphicae Theogoniae Indole Atque Origine, 1869, p. 46 sqq.) that Onomacritus (who resided at the court of Pisistratus and his sons, and with two or three other persons, undertook the collection of the Homeric poems) published, under the names of Orpheus and Musaeus, oracular sayings and hymns (τελεταὶ) which he had himself composed. This forgery falls somewhere between 540 and 520 BC It is probable, however, not only that Orphic hymns and oracles had been in circulation previously to this, but that the union of the Dionysiac mysteries with the Orphic poetry had long ago been accomplished. Two or three generations later, the names of the Orphics and Bacchics were used by Herodotus (ii. 81) as identical, and Philolaus appeals in support of the doctrine of transmigration (vide infra, Pythagoras) to the utterances of the ancient theologians and soothsayers, by whom we must chiefly understand Orpheus and the other founders of the Orphic mysteries. Aristotle’s testimony certainly cannot be adduced in favour of the higher antiquity of the Orphic theology. Philoponus indeed observes (De anima F, 5, in reference to a passage from Aristotle, De anima i. 5, 410, b. 28) that Aristotle, speaking of the Orphic poems, says the poems ‘called’ Orphic—ἐπειδὴ μὴ δοκεῖ Ὸπϕέως εἶναι τὰ ἔπη, ὡς καὶ αὐτὸς ἐν τοῖς περὶ φιλοσοφίας λέγει. αὐτοῦ μὲν γάρ εἶσι τὰ δόγματα. ταῦτα δέ φησιν (for which we ought, most likely, to read φασὶν) ὄνομα κρεῖττον ἐνέπεσε κατατεῖναι (read ᾿Ονομάκριτον ἐν ἔπεσι καταθεῖναι). But the words αὐτοῦ μὲν γάρ εἰσι τὰ δόγματα show by their form that they are not a quotation from Aristotle, but a remark of Philoponus; and he is probably only repeating a Neo-Platonic expedient, by which the Aristotelian criticism of the Orphic poems was to be rendered harmless; that Aristotle never so expressed himself is clear, from the passage in Cicero, De Natura Deorum i. 38, 107, which probably refers to the same writing of Aristotle: Orpheum Poétam docet Aristoteles nunquam fuisse. The Orphic theogony is not ascribed to Onomacritus; other Orphic writings are said to have been composed by Cercops, the Pythagorean Brontinus, Zopyrus of Heraclea (the same who worked with Onomacritus at the edition of Homer), Prodicus of Samos, and others, (Suidas, ’Opd. Clement, Stromata i. 333 A: cf. Schuster loc. cit. and p. 55 sq. For further remarks vide infra.)

  |63 cont.| There are two points especially, in regard to which the mysteries are supposed to have exercised an important influence on Philosophy: these are Monotheism and the hope of a future life. A speculative interpretation has also been given to some other doctrines, but they appear to contain nothing beyond the common |64| and ordinary thoughts of all mankind. 1 Even, however, in these two cases, the influence seems neither so certain nor so considerable as has commonly been believed. In regard to the unity of God, the theistic conception proper is as little to be found in the mystic as in the popular theology. It is impossible to imagine how the unity of God in the Jewish or Christian sense 2 could be inculcated at the feasts of the Eleusinian deities, or of the Cabiri, or of Dionysus. It is a different matter, certainly, in respect to the pantheism which appears in a fragment of the Orphic theogony, 3 where Zeus is described as the beginning, middle, and end of all things, the root of the earth and sky, the substance and essence of air and of fire, the sun and moon, male and female; where the sky is called his head, the sun and moon are his eyes, the air is his breast, the earth his body, the lower world his foot, the ether his infallible, royal, omniscient reason. Such a pantheism was not incompatible with polytheism, a soil which the mysteries never quitted. As the gods of polytheism were in truth only the various

1 For example, the mythus of the slaying of Zagreus by the Titans (for further details cf. Lobeck, i. 615 sqq.), to which the Neo-Platonists, and before them even the Stoics, had given a philosophic interpretation, but which in its original meaning was probably only a rather crude variation of the well-worn theme of the death of Nature in winter, with which the thought of the decay of youth and its beauty was connected. This myth had no influence on the earlier philosophy, even if we suppose Empedocles to have made allusion to it—v. 70 (142).
2 We find the unity of God in this sense affirmed in so-called Orphic fragments (Orphica, ed. Hermann, Frag. 1-3), of which some were probably, and others certainly, composed or altered by Alexandrian Jews.
3 Vide Lobeck, p. 520 sqq.; and Hermann, Frag. 6. Similarly the fragment from the Διαθῆκαι (in Lobeck, p. 440; in Hermann, Frag. 4) was εἷς Ζεὺς, εἷς ᾿Αἴδης, εἷς Ἥλιος, εἷς Διόνυσος, εἷς θεὺς ἐν πάντεσσι.

|65| parts and forces of the world, the different spheres of nature and of human life, it is natural that the relations of these spheres among themselves, and the preponderance of one of them over others, should in time be brought to light; and, therefore, in all highly developed naturalistic religions, we see that kindred deities become blended together, and the whole polytheistic Olympus is resolved into the general conception of an all-embracing divine essence (θεῖον). But the Greek religion, because of its plastic character, is just one of those which most resists this fusion of definite forms of deity. In Greece, consequently, the idea of the divine unity was arrived at less by way of syncretism than of criticism; not by blending the many gods into one, but by combating the principle of polytheism. The Stoics and their successors were the first who sought to reconcile polytheism with their philosophic pantheism, by giving a syncretic interpretation to polytheism; the older pantheism of Xenophanes was, on the contrary, bitterly and openly hostile to the doctrine of the plurality of gods. The pantheism of the Orphic poems, in the form above described, is probably much later than the first beginnings of Orphic literature. The Διαθῆκαι are certainly not anterior to the Alexandrian Syncretism; nor can the passage respecting the theogony, as it now stands, date from the time of Onomacritus, to which Lobeck (loc. cit. 611.) assigns the greater part of the poem. For this passage was in close connection with the story of Phanes-Ericapeus, devoured by Zeus. Zeus includes all things in |66| himself, because he swallowed the already created world, or Phanes, that he might then produce all things from himself. We shall presently show that the swallowing of Phanes 1 originally formed no part of the Orphic theogony. We must, therefore, in all cases distinguish the original text of the Orphic passage from the modifications it may afterwards have undergone. As part of the original text we may apparently claim the verse so frequently quoted, 2 and which is probably referred to by Plato: 3

The idea in this verse, however, and other similar ideas to be found in those portions of the Orphic writings supposed to be ancient, contain nothing essentially in advance of a conception familiar to Greek religion, and the gist of which was already expressed by Homer when he calls Zeus the Father of gods and men. 5 The unity of the divine element which polytheism itself recognises, was made concrete in Zeus as king of the gods; and so far, all that exists and all that happens is ultimately referred to Zeus. This idea may perhaps be expressed by calling Zeus the beginning, middle, and end of all things; but the expression certainly does not

1 In the enquiry into the Orphic cosmogony. infra.
2 Ap. Proclus in Timaeus, 95 F, and the Platonic scholiast, p. 451, Bekker.
3 Laws, iv. 715 E. Further references as to the employment of this verse by the Stoics, Platonists, Neo-Pythagoreans and others, are given by Lobeck, p. 529 sq.
4 This theory is supported by the circumstance that the words quoted from Orpheus by Proclus in Timaeus, 310 D; Platonic Theology 17, 8, p. 363: τῷ δὲ Δίκη πολύποινος ἐφείπετο coincide with the Platonic passage. Δίκη is also called πολύποινος in Parmenides. v. 14.
5 Cf. also Terpander (about 650 BC), Frag. 4: Ζεῦ πάντων ἀρχά πάντων ἀγήτωρ.

|67| imply that Zeus is himself the ideal complex (Inbegriff) of all things. 1 There is consequently no evidence that the standpoint of the religious notion, which conceives the gods as personal beings, side by side with the world, has here been exchanged for that of philosophic speculation, which regards them as representing the general essence of the universe.
  The case is somewhat different in regard to the second point in question, belief in immortality. The doctrine of metempsychosis seems really to have passed from the theology of the mysteries into Philosophy. Even this doctrine, however, was in all probability originally connected, not with all, but only with the Bacchic and Orphic mysteries. Those of Eleusis, being sacred to the Chthonian divinities, were regarded as specially important in their influence upon man’s future life. The Homeric hymn to Demeter already speaks of the great difference in the other world between the lots of the initiated and uninitiated; 2 and there are later eulogies of these mysteries, from which it is clear that they guaranteed happiness not only in this life, but in the life to come. 3 There is nothing here, however, to imply that the souls of the initiated are to come to life again, or that they are immortal in any other sense than was admitted by the ordinary faith of the Greeks.

1 Even monotheism allows expressions such as ἐξ αὐτοῦ καὶ δι’ αὐτοῦ καὶ εἰς αὐτὸν τὰ πάντα (Romans xi. 36)–ἐν αὐτῷ ζῶμεν καὶ κινούμεθα καὶ ἐσμέν (Aglaophamus 17, 28), without meaning by them that the Finite is actually merged in Deity.
2 v. 480 sqq. ὄλβιος, ὃς τάδ᾽ ὕπωπεν ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων ὃς δ᾽ ἀτελὴς ἱερῶν, ὃς τ᾽ ἔμμορος, οὔποθ᾽ ὁμοίην αἶσαν ἔχει, φθίμενός περ, ὑπὸ ζόφῳ εὐρώεντι.
3 Cf. the references in Lobeck i. 69 sqq.

|68| In this world wealth and fruitful fields 1 were expected from Demeter and her daughters in return for worship rendered to them; and in a similar manner, after death, the partakers of the mysteries were assured that they should dwell in Hades, in closest proximity to.the divinities they had honoured, while the uninitiated were threatened with being cast into a marsh. 2 If these rude notions, at a later period, and among the more educated, received a spiritual interpretation, 3 there is no reason to suppose that this was so originally, or that the initiated were promised anything in the future except the favour of the infernal gods; the popular opinions about Hades remained quite unaffected by them. Even Pindar’s celebrated utterances carry us no farther. For in saying that the partakers of the Eleusinian mysteries know the beginning and end of their life, 4 he does not assert the doctrine of transmigration, 5 and though in other passages this doctrine is undoubtedly brought forward, 6 it is still

1 Hymn to Ceres, 486 sqq.
2 Aristides, Eleusinian Mysteries p. 421 Dindorf ed. The same is asserted of the Dionysian mysteries (to which perhaps this belief itself may originally have been peculiar) in Aristophanes, Frogs, 145 sqq.; Plato, Phaedo, 69 C; Gorgias, 493 A; Republic, ii. 363 C; cf. Diogenes L. vi. 4.
3 Thus Plato in the Phaedo and Gorgias, and, in a lesser degree, Sophocles, in the words (in Plutarch,Quomodo adolescens poetas audire debeat c. 4, p. 21 F): ὡς τρισόλβιοι|κεῖνοι βροτῶν, of ταῦτα δειχθέντες τέλη|μολοῦσ᾽ ἐς δου τοῖσδε γὰρ μόνοι εκει|ζῆν ἐστι, τοῖς δ᾽ ἄλλοισι πάντ᾽ ἐκεῖ κακά.
4 Threnoi Frag. 8 (114 Bergk): ὄλβιος, ὅστις ἰδὼν κεῖνʹ εἶσʹ ὑπὸ χθόνʹ· οἷδε μὲν βίου τελευτάν, οἷδεν δὲ διόσδοτον ἀρχάν.
5 For the words can only properly mean that he who has received the consecration regards life as a gift of God, and death as the transition to a happier state. Preller’s explanation (Demeter und Persephone, p. 236) seems to me less natural.
6 Olympiad ii. 68 sqq. Threnoi Frag. 4, and infra, p. 70, note 4.

|69| questionable whether the poet borrowed it from the Eleusinian theology; and even if he did apply the Eleusinian myths and symbols in this sense, it would not certainly follow that such was their original meaning. 1 In the Orphic theology, on the contrary, transmigration is clearly to be found, and the probabilities are very strongly against its having come there through the medium of the philosophers. Several writers mention Pherecydes as the first who taught immortality, 2 or more precisely, transmigration; 3 but the testimony of Cicero and other later authors is not sufficient, in the absence of older evidence, 4 to prove this statement. Even if we admit the probability that Pherecydes spoke of transmigration, the assertion of his having been the first to do so rests only on the fact that no previous writings are known to contain that

1 The revival of dead nature in the spring was considered in the cult of Demeter as the return of souls from the under world, and harvest was looked upon as the descent of the souls thither (vide Preller, Dem. und Pers. 228 sqq.; Griech. Mythologie, i. 254, 483); and this does not apply solely to the souls of plants, to which it primarily relates, but to the souls of men. At these seasons also departed spirits appear in the upper world. It was easy to interpret these notions as implying the entrance of human souls into the visible world from the invisible, and their return into the invisible again. Cf. Plato, Phaedo, 70 C: παλαιὸς μὲν οὖν ἔστι τις λόγος…ὡς εἰσὶν [ἀι ψυχαὶ] ἐνθένδε ἀφικόμεναε ἐκεῖ καὶ πάλιν γε δεῦρο ἀφικνοῦνται καὶ γίγνονται ἐκ τῶν τεθνεώτων.
2 Cicero Tusculanae Disputationes i. 16, 88, and after him Lacteantius, Instit. vii. 7, 8. Augustin c. Acad. iii. 37 (17), Epist. 137, p. 407, B. Maur.
3 Suidas; Φερεκύδης; Hesychius, De his qui erud. clar. p. 56, Orelli; Tatian c. Graec. c. 3, 25, according to the obvious correction in the edition of Maurus. Cf. Porphyry, Antr. Nymph. 6. 31. Preller also (Rheinisches Museum iv. 888) refers with some appearance of probability what is quoted by Origen (c. Cels. vi. p. 304) from Pherecydes, and Themist. Or. ii. 38 a, to the doctrine of Transmigration.
4 Cf. Aristoxenus, Duris and Hermippus—so far as they have been quoted in Diogenes L. i. 116 sqq. and viii. 1 sqq.

|70| doctrine. Still more uncertain is the theory 1 that Pythagoras was the first to introduce it. Heracleitus clearly presupposes this; Philolaus expressly appeals to the ancient theologians and soothsayers 2 for the theory that souls were fettered to the body, and as it were buried in it, as a punishment. Plato 3 derives the same theory from the mysteries, and more particularly from the Orphic mysteries; and Pindar teaches that certain favourites of the gods are to be permitted to return to the upper world, and that those who thrice have led a blameless life will be sent to the islands of the blest in the kingdom of Cronos. 4

1 Maximus Tyr. xvi. 2; Diogenes, viii. 14; Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 19.
2 Ap. Clement, Stromata iii. 433 A, and previously ap. Cicero, Frag. 85 (iv. 6, 483 Or.) This passage, as well as others from Plato, will be quoted at length in the section on the Pythagorean Metempsychosis, infra.
3 Phaedo, 62 B; Crat. 400 B. Cf. Phaedo, 69 C, 70 C; Laws, ix. 870 D; and Lobeck, Aglaoph. ii. 795 sqq.
4 Pindar’s eschatology follows no fixed type (cf. Preller’s Demeter und Persephone, p. 239), while, in many places, he adopts the usual notions about Hades, in Threnoi 2 it is said that after the death of the body, the soul, which alone springs from the gods, remains alive; and in two places transmigration is alluded to, viz. in Threnoi Frag. 4 (110), quoted by Plato, Meno, 81 B: οἷσι δὲ Φερσεφόνα ποινὰν παλαιοῦ πένθεος δέξεται, ἐς τὸν ὕπερθεν ἅλιον κείνων ἐνάτῳ ἔτει ἀνδιδοῖ ψυχὰν πάλιν, ἐκ τᾶν βασιλῆες ἀγαυοὶ καὶ σθένει χραιπνοὶ σοφίᾳ μέγιστοι ἄνδρες αὔξοντ᾽. ἐς δὲ τὸν λοιπὸν χρόνον ἥρωες ἁγνοὶ πρὸς ἀνθρώπων καλεῦνται. And Olympiad ii. 68, after mention οὗ the rewards and punishments in Hades: ὅσοι δ᾽ ἐτόλμασαν ἐστρίς ἑκατέρωθι μείναντες ἀπὸ πάμπαν ἀδέκων ἔχειν ψυχάν, ἔτειλαν Διὸς ὁδὸν παρὰ Κρόνου τύρσιν ἔνθα μακάρων γᾶσος νᾶσον) ὠκεανίδες αὖρα: περιπνέοισιν. Pindar’s Threnoi Frag. 3 (109), where the wicked have the lower world, and the righteous, heaven, assigned as their dwelling-place, cannot be accepted as genuine.

In this last representation, we perceive an alteration in the doctrine; for whereas the return to corporeal life is elsewhere |71| always regarded as a punishment and a means of improvement, in Pindar it appears as a privilege accorded only to the best, giving them an opportunity of earning higher happiness in the islands of the blest, instead of the inferior happiness of Hades. But this use of the doctrine presupposes the doctrine itself, and according to the quotations from Plato and Philolaus, we must assume that Pindar derived it from the Orphic mysteries. It is certainly conceivable that it might still have reached the mysteries through Pythagoreism, which must early have been connected with the Orphic cult. 1 But the most ancient testimonies, and the Pythagoreans themselves, refer it solely to the mysteries; and it is besides very doubtful whether the Pythagorean doctrines could have been prevalent in Thebes, in the time of Pindar, 2 whereas that city is, on the other hand, known to have been an ancient seat of the Bacchic and Orphic religion. Lastly, the doctrine of metempsychosis is ascribed to Pherecydes, and regarded as anterior to Pythagoras, not ouly by the writers we have quoted, but indirectly by all those who make Pherecydes the teacher of Pythagoras. 3 We have, therefore, every reason to believe that it was taught in the Orphic mysteries prior to the date of Pythagoras. According to Herodotus, the Orphics obtained it from Egypt: 4

1 A number of Orphic writings are said to have been invented by the Pythagoreans; vide Lobeck, Aglaophamus i. 347 sqq., and supra, p. 62, note.
2 Cf. what will hereafter be said in the history of the Pythagorean philosophy, of the propagation of that philosophy.
3 On which vide infra, Pythagoras and the Pythagoreans.
4 ii. 123: πρῶτον δὲ καὶ τοῦτον τὸν λόγον Αἰγύπτιοί εἰσι οἱ εἰπόντες, ὡς ἀνθρώπου ψυχὴ ἀθάνατός ἐστι, τοῦ σώματος δὲ καταφθίνοντος ἐς ἄλλο ζῷον αἰεὶ γινόμενον ἐσδύεται· ἐπεὰν δὲ περιέλθῃ πάντα τὰ χερσαῖα καὶ τὰ θαλάσσια καὶ πετεινὰ, αὖτις ἐς ἀνθρώπου σῶμα γινόμενον ἐσδύνειν᾽ τὴν περιήλυσιν δὲ αὐτῇ γίνεσθαι ἐν τρισχιλίοισι ἔτεσι. τούτῳ τῷ λόγῳ εἰσὶ οἱ Ἑλλήνων ἐχρήσαντο. οἱ μὲν πρότερον οἱ δὲ ὕστερον, ὡς ἰδίῳ ἑωυτῶν ἐόντι. τῶν ἐγὼ εἰδὼς τὰ οὐνόματα οὐ γράφω. Cf. c. 81: τοῖσι ᾿Ορφικοῖσι καλεομένοισι καὶ Βακχικοῖσι, οὖσι δὲ Αἰγυπτίοισι. Herodotus thought (according to ch. 49) that Melampus had introduced the cult of Dionysus, which he had learned from Cadmus and his followers,into Greece; but, on the other hand, in C. 53, he intimates that he considers the Orphic poems more recent than Homer and Hesiod.

|72| but this theory either rests upon a mere conjecture of his own, or a still more untrustworthy statement of the Egyptian priests; as historical evidence, it is of no value whatever. As to the real state of the case, history tells us nothing, and no guess that we can make even approximates to certainty. It is possible that Herodotus may be right in the main, and that the belief in transmigration was really transplanted from Egypt into Greece, either directly, or through certain intermediaries which cannot precisely be determined. But in that case, we can scarcely agree with him in supposing the Greeks to have become acquainted with it in the first beginnings of their culture, still less can we connect this acquaintanceship with the mythical personalities of Cadmus and Melampus; the most probable assumption would then be, that the doctrine had been introduced into Greece not very long before the date when we first meet with it in Greek writings—perhaps, therefore, about the seventh century. But it is also conceivable that this belief, the affinity of which with Hindoo and Egyptian doctrines indicates an Eastern source, may have originally immigrated from the East with the Greeks themselves, and have been at first confined toa narrow circle, becoming afterwards more important and more widely diffused. It |73| might be urged, in support of this view, that similar notions have been found among races which never in any way came under Egyptian influence. 1 Nor can we altogether dispute the possibility of different nations, without any historical connection, having arrived at the same opinions concerning a future state. Even so strange a theory as transmigration seems to us may thus have been reached in several cases independently one of the other. For if the natural desire to escape death engenders a universal belief in immortality, a bolder fancy, in nations not yet capable of spiritual abstraction, might well shape this desire and belief into the hope and expectation of a return to earthly life. 2

1 According to Herodotus, iv. 94 sq., the Thracian Getae believed that the dead came to the god Zalmoxis or Gebeleïzin; and every five years they sent a messenger to this god by means of a special human sacrifice, entrusted with communications to their departed friends. That the theory of transmigration was involved in this cannot be deduced from the statement of the Greeks of the Hellespont, that Zalmoxis was a scholar of Pythagoras, who had taught the belief in immortality to the Thracians. Herodotus says that it was the custom of another Thracian tribe (Her. v. 4) to bewail the newly born, and to praise the dead as happy; because the former are about to encounter the ills of life, whiie the latter have escaped from them. But this custom proves even less than the other in regard to metempsychosis. The Gauls, however, are said to have believed, not only in immortality, but also in transmigration: Caesar, B. Gall. vi. 14, in primis hoc volunt persuadere (Druides) non interire animas, sed ab aliis post mortem transire ad alios. Diodor. v. 28, sub fin.: ἐνισχύει γὰρ παρ᾽ αὐτοῖς 6 Πυθαγόρου λόγος, ὅτι τὰς ψυχὰς τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἀθανάτους εἶναι συμβέβηκε καὶ δι᾽ ἐτῶν ὡρισμένων πάλιν βιοῦν, εἰς ἕτερον σῶμα τῆς ψυχῆς εἰσδυομένης. On this account many persons, adds Diodorus, place letters to their friends on the funeral pile. So Ammian. Mare. xv. 9, sub fin.
2 If the soul is conceived as a breath-like essence which dwells in the body, and leaves it after death according to the opinion of the ancients, and especially of the Greeks, the question inevitably arises whence this essence comes, and whither it goes. For answer to this question, a child-like imagination is most easily satisfied with the simple notion that there is a place, invisible to us, in which the departed souls remain, and from which the newly born come forth. And we do, in facet, find in many different nations, not merely the belief in a kingdom of the dead, but the idea that souls return to the earth or from heaven. From: this there is but a step to the theory that the same souls which previously inhabited a body should the body from the lower regions of afterwards enter another body.

  |74| However this may be, it appears certain, that among the Greeks the doctrine of transmigration came not from the philosophers to the priests, but from the priests to the philosophers. Meantime it is a question whether its philosophic importance in antiquity was very great. It is found, indeed, with Pythagoras and his school, and Empedocles is in this respect allied with them; a higher life after death is also spoken of by Heracleitus. But none of these philosophers brought the doctrine into such a connection with their scientific theories as to make it an essential constituent of their philosophic system: it stands with them all for a self-dependent dogma side by side with their scientific theory, in which no lacuna would be discoverable if it were removed. A philosophic basis was first given to the belief in immortality by Plato; and it would be hard to maintain that he would not have arrived at it without the assistance of the myths which he employed for its exposition.
  From all that has now been said, it would appear that Greek Philosophy in regard to its origin was no more indebted to the religion of the mysteries than to the public religion. The views of nature which were contained in the mysteries may have given an impulse to thought; the idea that all men need religious consecration and purification may have led to deeper study of the moral nature and character of man; but as |75| scientific instruction was not originally contemplated in the tales and practices of the mystic cult, any philosophic exposition of these presupposed that the expositor had already attained the philosophic standpoint; and as the mysteries were after all only made up of general perceptions and experiences accessible to everyone, a hundred other things could really perform for Philosophy the same service that they did. Philosophy did not require the myth of Kore and Demeter to reveal the alternation of natural conditions, the passage from death to life and from life to death; daily observation sufficed for the acquisition of this knowledge. The necessity of moral purity, and the advantages of piety and virtue, needed not to be proclaimed by the glowing descriptions of the priests concerning the happiness of the initiated and the misery of the profane. These conceptions were immediately contained in the moral consciousness of the Greeks, Nevertheless, the mysteries were by no means without importance in regard to Philosophy, as the results of our enquiry have shown. But their importance is not so great, nor their influence so direct, as has often been imagined.

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§ 3. Moral Life, Civil and Political Conditions

  The ideality of the Greek religion finds its counterpart in the freedom and beauty of Greek life; it is impossible to regard either of these characteristics, strictly speaking, as the ground or consequence of the |76| other; they grew up side by side, mutually requiring and sustaining one another, out of the same natural temperament and under the same favourable conditions. As the Greek reverenced in his gods the natural and moral order of the world, without therefore renouncing in regard to them his own value and freedom, so Greek morality stands in a happy mean between the lawless license of barbarous and semi-barbarous races and the slavish obedience which subjects the peoples of the East to the will of another and to a temporal and spiritual despotism. A strong feeling of liberty, and at the same time a rare susceptibility to measure, form, and order; a lively sense of community in existence and action; a social impulse which made it an absolute necessity for the individual to ally himself to others, to subordinate himself to the common will, to follow the tradition of his family and his country—these qualities, so essential in the Hellenes, produced in the limited area of the Greek states a full, free and harmonious life, such as no other nation of antiquity can exhibit. The very narrowness of the sphere in which their moral perceptions moved was in itself favourable to this result. As the individual knew that he was free and had a right to protection only as being a citizen of this or that state, and as, in the same way, his relation to others was determined by their relation to the state to which he belonged, every one from the beginning had his problem clearly marked out for him. The maintaining and extension of his civil importance, the fulfilment of his civil duties, work for the freedom and greatness of his people, obedience to the laws,—|77| these constituted the simple end which the Greek definitely proposed to himself, and in the pursuit of which he was all the less disturbed because his glances and endeavours seldom strayed beyond the limits of his home, because he excluded the idea of seeking the rule of his actions elsewhere than in the laws and customs of his state, because he dispensed with all the reflections by which the man of modern times labours to reconcile, on the one side, his individual interests and natural rights with the interest and laws of the commonwealth, and, on the other, his patriotism with the claims of a cosmopolitan morality and religion. We cannot, indeed, regard this narrow conception of moral problems as the highest possible conception, nor can we conceal from ourselves how closely the dismemberment of Greece, the consuming disquiet of its civil wars and party struggles, not to speak of slavery and the neglect of female education, were connected with this narrowness; but our eyes must not therefore be closed to the fact that on this soil and from these presuppositions a freedom and culture arose which give to the Greeks their unique place in history. It is easy also to see how deeply and essentially Philosophy was rooted in the freedom and order of the Greek state. There was not, indeed, any immediate connection between them. Philosophy in Greece was always the private concern of individuals, states only troubled themselves about it in so far as they interfered with all doctrines morally and politically dangerous; it received no positive encouragement or support from cities and princes until a late period, when it had long |78| passed beyond the highest point of its development. Nor was public education concerned with philosophy, or science of any kind. At Athens, even in the time of Pericles, it scarcely included the first rudiments of what we should call scientific culture; nothing was attempted beyond reading, writing, and a certain amount of arithmetic: history, mathematics, physics, the study of foreign languages, and so forth, were altogether ignored. The philosophers themselves, and especially the Sophists, were the first to induce certain individuals to seek for wider instruction, which, however, was even then restricted almost exclusively to rhetoric. Besides the above-mentioned elementary arts, ordinary education consisted entirely of music and gymnastics; and music was primarily concerned, not so much with intellectual training as with proficiency in the Homeric and Hesiodic poems, and the popular songs, singing, playing on stringed instruments, and dancing. But this education formed complete and vigorous men, and the subsequent discipline of public life engendered such self-confidence, demanded such an exercise of all the powers, such acute observation and intelligent judgment of persons and circumstances, above all, such energy and worldly prudence, as must necessarily have borne important fruit to science whenever the scientific need arose. That it could not fail to arise was certain; for in the harmonious many-sidedness of the Greek character, the development of moral and political reflection called forth a corresponding and natural development of speculative thought; and not a few of the Greek cities had attained, by |79| means of civil liberty, a degree of prosperity which ensured leisure for scientific activity to some at least of their citizens. Although, therefore, in ancient times, the political life and education of the Greeks had no direct concern with Philosophy; and although, on the other hand, the earlest Philosophy, as a rule, neglected ethical and political questions, yet the training of men and the fact that circumstances took the form required for the production of Philosophy were important elements in its history. Freedom and severity of thought were the natural fruits of a free and law-directed life; and the sound and sterling characters which grew up on the classic soil of Greece could not fail, even in science, to adopt their standpoint with decision, and to maintain it clearly and definitely, with full and unwavering purpose. 1
  Lastly, it was one of the chief excellences of Greek education that it did not split up human nature, but, by the even development of all the powers of man, sought to make of him a beautiful whole, a moral work of art. This trait we may venture to connect with the fact that Greek science, especially in its commencement, chose the path that is indeed generally taken by thought in its infancy—the path downward from above; that it did not form a theory of the whole from the aggregation

1 This intimate connection of politics with philosophy is strikingly shown by the fact that many of the ancient philosophers were distinguished as statesmen, legislators, political reformers and generals. The political activity of Thales and of the Pythagoreans is well known. We are told that Parmenides gave laws to his native city, and that Zeno perished in his attempt to free his countrymen. Empedocles restored democracy in Agrigentum; Archytas was no less great as a general than as a statesman; and Melissus is probably the same person who vanquished the Athenian fleet.

|80| of individuals, but sought to gain a standard for the individual from the study of the whole, and at once to shape a collective representation from the existing fragments of cosmical knowledge; that philosophy in Greece preceded the particular sciences.
  If we examine somewhat more closely the circumstances which conditioned the progress of Greek culture before the appearance of philosophy, two phenomena especially claim our attention: these are the republican form of the government, and the spread of the Greek races by colonisation. The centuries which immediately preceded the earliest Greek Philosophy, and those which partly coincided with it, are the times of the legislators and of the tyrants, of the transition to those constitutional forms of government on the soil of which Greek political life attained its highest perfection. When the patriarchal monarchy of the Homeric period, in consequence of the Trojan war and the Doric migration, and through the extinction, disqualification or banishment of the ancient royal houses, had entirely given place to oligarchy, the aristocracy became the means of spreading freedom and higher culture throughout the smaller circle of the ruling families. Afterwards when the oppressions and internal deterioration of these families had evoked the resistance of the masses, the popular leaders came mostly from the ranks of their hitherto masters, and these demagogues almost everywhere eventually became tyrants. But as the government by a single person, because of its very origin, found its chief adversary in the aristocracy, and, as a counterpoise, was forced to fall back for support |81| upon the people, it became itself a means of training and educating the people to freedom. The courts of the tyrants were centres of art and culture; 1 and when their rule was overthrown, which generally happened in the course of one or two generations, their inheritance of power did not revert to the earlier aristocracy, but to moderate constitutions founded on fixed laws. This course of things was as favourable to the scientific as to the political training of the Greeks. In the efforts and struggles of this political movement, all the powers which public life brought to science must have been aroused and employed, and the feeling of youthful liberty imparted to the spirit of the Greek people a stimulus which must needs have affected their speculative activity. Thus the laying of the foundations of the scientific and artistic glory of Greece was eagerly carried on side by side with the transformation of her political circumstances; a connection of phenomena which is very striking, and which shows that among the Greeks, as among all healthy nations, culture has been the fruit of liberty.

1 For example, those of Periander, Polycrates, Pisistratus, and his sons. But, excepting the story of Periander’s relation to the seven wise men, there is no tradition of the philosophers being connected with tyrants before the appearance of the Sophists.

  This general revolution was effected more quickly in the colonies than in the mother country; and the existence of these colonies was of the highest importance in regard to it. During the 500 years which elapsed between the Doric conquests and the rise of Greek Philosophy, the Greek races had spread themselves, by means of organised emigration, on all sides. The islands |82| of the Archipelago, as far as Crete and Rhodes; the western and northern coasts of Asia Minor; the shores of the Black Sea, and the Propontis; the coasts of Thrace, Macedonia and Illyria; of Magna Grecia and Sicily, were covered with hundreds of settlements; Greek colonists had penetrated even to distant Gaul, to Cyrene, and to Egypt. Most of these settlements attained to prosperity, culture, and free constitutions, sooner than the states from which they emanated. Not only did the very disruption from their native soil produce a freer movement, and a different organisation of civil society, but their whole situation was much more convenient for trade and commerce, for enterprising activity, and for all kinds of intercourse with strangers than was the case with the cities of Greece proper; it was therefore natural that in many respects they should outstrip the older states. How greatly they did so, and how important the rapid growth of the colonies was in regard to the development of Greek Philosophy, is best seen from the fact that all the Greek philosophers of note before Socrates, one or two Sophists only excepted, belonged either to the Ionian and Thracian colonies, or to those in Italy and Sicily. Here at the limits of the Hellenic world were the chief settlements of a higher culture, and as the immortal poems of Homer were a gift from the Greeks of Asia Minor to their native country, so also Philosophy came from the east and west to the centre of Greek life; there to attain its highest perfection, favoured by a happy combination of all forces, and a coincidence of all necessary conditions, at an epoch when, for most of the colonies, the |83| brightest period of their history had passed away beyond recall.
  How thought gradually developed itself under these circumstances up to the point at which the earliest scientific endeavours, in the strict sense of the word, were made, we learn to some extent from the still existing records of early cosmology and ethics, though our information from these sources is far from being complete.

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§ 4. Cosmology

  In a people so richly endowed as the Greeks, and so eminently favoured by circumstances in regard to their intellectual development, reflection must soon have been awakened, and attention directed to the phenomena of nature and of human life; and attempts must early have been made, not merely to explain the external world in reference to its origin and causes, but also to consider the activities and conditions of mankind from more general points of view. This reflection was not, indeed, at first of a specifically scientific kind, for it was not as yet regulated by the thought of any general interdependence of things according to fixed law. Cosmology, until the time of Thales, and, so far as it allied itself with religion, even longer, retained the form of a mythological narrative; Ethics, until the time of Socrates and Plato, that of aphoristic reflection. The fortuitous, and sometimes even miraculous, interference of imaginary beings took the place of the interdependence |84| of nature; instead of one central theory of human life, we find a number of moral sayings and prudential maxims, which, abstracted from various experiences, not unfrequently contradicted one another, and, at the best, were reduced to no general principles and brought into no scientific connection with any theory of human nature. Though it would be a mistake to overlook this distinction, and to place either the mythic cosmologists or the gnomic poets in the number of the philosophers, 1as has been done by some writers, both ancient and modern, yet we ought not, on the other hand, to underrate the importance of these early attempts, for they were at least useful in calling attention to the questions which science had first to consider, and in accustoming thought to combine particular phenomena under general points of view; and thus a good deal was done towards a beginning of science.
  The most ancient record of mythic cosmology among the Greeks is the Theogony of Hesiod. How much of this work is derived from still more ancient tradition, and how much is invented by the poet himself and his later revisers, cannot now be discovered with certainty, nor is this the place to enquire.

1 As was certainly done in the most flourishing period of Greek Philosophy by the Sophists and by the adherents of systems of natural Philosophy. Plato is evidence of the former in Prot. 316 D, cf. ibid. 338 E sqq.; and of the latter there is mention in Crat. 402 B; and also in Aristotle, Metaphysics i. 3, 983 b, 27 (cf. Schwegler on this passage). The Stoics afterwards were especially addicted to representing the ancient poets as the earliest philosophers, by the allegorical interpretation of their writings; and in the Neo-Platonists this practice passed all bounds. Tiedemann was the first to declare Thales the starting-point of Philosophy, vide his Geist der speculativen Philosophie, i. Preface, p. xviii.

It is |85| enough for our purpose to observe that the Theogony, with the exception of a few subsequent interpolations, was undoubtedly known to the earliest philosophers in its present form. 1 We find in it nothing approaching to a scientific apprehension or solution of the cosmological problem. The poet proposes to himself the question from which ail cosmogonies and histories of creation start, and which, indeed, obviously suggests itself even to the most undisciplined intellect,—the question as to the origin and causes of all things. But in the Theogony this question has not the scientific importance of an enquiry into the essence and reasons of phenomena. With childlike curiosity the poet asks: Who made all things? and how did He make them? and the answer simply consists in positing as the first being something that cannot be explained away by thought, and making the rest originate from this by means of some analogy drawn from experience. Now experience points out two kinds of origin. All that we see either forms itself naturally, or else is made with a design by definite individuals. In the former case production takes place by the action of the elements, by growth, or by generation; in the latter, either mechanically by the elaboration of some given material, or dynamically, as we work upon other men

1 Cf. Petersen (Ursprung und Alter der Hesiod: Theog. (Progr. der Hamburgischen Gymn.), 1862), who seems to me to have proved at any rate this much, whatever we may think of his other theories. The polemic of Xenophanes and Heracleitus against Hesiod (which we shall hereafter consider) and the remarkable utterance of Herodotus, ii. 53, are decided evidence against the supposition that the Theogony is no older than the sixth century; the general character of its conceptions and language, however, attest this even more strongly.

|86| by the mere expression of our will. All these analogies are applied, in the cosmogonies of different nations, to the origin of the world and of the gods; as a rule, several of them at once, according to the nature of the object in question. To the Greeks the analogy of generation must have been the most obvious, because, in accordance with the particular bent of their imagination, they had personified the various parts of the world as beings akin to humanity, whose origin could be represented in no other way. In any case they must have kept to an analogy drawn from nature, for Greek thought was too naturalistic and polytheistic to maintain, like the Zoroastrian and Judaic religions, that everything had been called into existence by the mere fiat of a creator. In Greek mythology the gods themselves were created, and the deities worshipped by the people belong altogether to a younger race of gods; there is, therefore, no divinity who can be regarded as the first cause of all things, without beginning, and who possesses absolute power over nature. So in Hesiod it is the genesis of the gods on which his whole cosmogony turns. Most of these genealogies, and the myths connected with them, are nothing more than the expression of simple perceptions, or picture-thoughts, of the kind that imagination everywhere produces when the knowledge of nature is in its infancy. Erebus and Nyx are the parents of Aether and Hemera, for day in its brightness is the son of night and darkness. The earth brings forth the sea of herself alone, and rivers in her union with the sky; for the sources of streams are fed by the rain, while the ocean appears to be a mass of |87| water which has been from the beginning in the depths of the earth. Uranus is emasculated by Cronos, for the sun-heat of harvest time puts an end to the fertilising showers of the sky. Aphrodite springs from the seed of Uranus, for the rain in spring awakens the generative impulse of nature. The Cyclopes, Hecatonchires and giants, the Echidna and Typhaeus are children of Gea; other monsters are the progeny of night or of the waters, partly because of their originally physical import, partly because what is monstrous cannot spring from the bright heavenly gods, but only from darkness and the unfathomable deep. The sons of Gea, the Titans, were overthrown by the Olympians; for as the light of heaven subdues the mists of earth, so the all-ordering Deity has bound the wild forces of nature. The thought contained in these myths is very limited; whatever in them transcends the most obvious perceptions is the result, not of reflection concerning the natural causes of things, but of an activity of fancy from which, even when it produces something really significant, we must be careful not to expect too much. Even in the combination of these myths, which is principally, no doubt, the work of the poet, we fail to discover any leading thought of deeper import. 1

1 Brandis (Geschichte der Griech-Röm. Phil. i. 75) finds not merely in the beginning of the Theogony, but also in the myths of the dethronement of Uranus, and the conflict of the sons of Cronos with their father and the Titans, the doctrine that the determinate proceeds from the indeterminate, and that there is a gradual evolution of the higher principle. But these thoughts are much too abstract to admit of our seeking in them the motive of the mythopeic fancy. The poet does not seem to have been influenced by any speculative idea even in the arrangement of these myths; the three generations of the gods merely form the thread on which he strings his genealogies, and by which he connects them together externally.

The |88| passage in the Theogony which sounds most like a philosophic conception of nature, and was almost the only passage employed by the ancient philosophers in that sense, 1 is the commencement of the poem (v. 116 sqq.). Chaos was the first to exist, then came Earth (with the abyss, or Tartarus) and Eros. Of Chaos were born Erebus and Night; Earth first brought forth of herself the sky, the mountains, and the sea; then in marriage with the sky she produced the progenitors of the different families of gods, except the few that are derived from Erebus and Night. This representation certainly attempts to get at some notion of the world’s origin, and we may so far consider it as the beginning of cosmology among the Greeks; but as a whole it is very crude and imperfect. The poet asks himself what was really the first of all things, and he finally abides by the Earth as the immovable basis of the Cosmos. Outside the Earth was nothing but gloomy night, for the luminaries of heaven were not as yet in existence. Erebus and Night are therefore as old as the Earth. In order that another should be produced from this first one, the generative impulse or Eros must have existed from the beginning. Such then are the causes of all things. If we exclude all these beings from our thought, there remains for the imagination only the idea of infinite space, which at this stage of culture it does not conceive in an abstract manner as empty mathematical space, but concretely as an immeasurable, waste and formless mass.

1 Proof of this will be found in the edition of Hesiod of Gaisford-Reiz, verse 116.

|89| The first of all things, therefore, in reality is Chaos. In some such way as this perhaps the foregoing theory of the beginning of the world may have arisen in the mind of its author. 1 It is founded, indeed, upon a desire for enquiry, an endeavour to attain clear and coherent notions, but the interest which rules it is that of the imagination rather than that of thought. No question is asked concerning the essence and general causes of things, the problem is merely how to learn something about the actual facts relating to the primitive condition of the world and to its ulterior developments; and in the solution of this problem, we naturally find that the poet is guided by the intuitions of his imagination, and not by intelligent reflection. The commencement of the Theogony is, considering its date, a thoughtful and pregnant myth, but it is not as yet a philosophy.

  The next writer after Hesiod of whose cosmology we know anything at all definite is Pherecydes of Syros, 2

1 Whether this author or some older poet was the composer of the Theogony is, as has already been observed, of little importance. Brandis (Gesch. der Gr.-Röm. Phil. i. 74) supports the latter theory. It is unlikely, he says, that the poet, had he invented the myth of Tartarus as one of the first principles of the world, or of Eros as the creative principle, would have made no further use of them in his Cosmology. But not to speak of the doubtful origin of the 119th verse, which mentions Tartarus, but which is wanting in Plato (Symp. 178 B), and Aristotle (Metaphysics i. 4, 984 b, 27), I should rather explain this circumstance as showing that the myths subsequently introduced belonged to the older tradition, and the opening verses to the author of the Theogony itself.
2 For his life, age, and writings, cf. Sturz, herecydis FragmentaP, p. 1 sqq. Preller in the Rheinisches Museum iv. (1846) 377 sqq. Allgem. Encyclop. of Ersch and Gruber, iii. 22, 240 sqq. Art. Pherecydes, Zimmermann in Fichte’s Zeitschrift für Philosophie, etc. xxiv. Β; 2 Η. S. 161 564. (reprinted in Zimmermann’s Studien. Vienna, 1870, p. 1 sqq.). This last, however, credits the old mythographer with much that is alien to him. Conrad, De Pherecydis Syrii etate atque cosmologia. Coblenz, 1887.

|90| a contemporary of Anaximander; 1 in later story a miraculous person like Pythagoras. 2 In a work, the title of which is variously given, he says that there existed before all things, and from eternity, Zeus, Chronos, and Chthon. 3 By Chthon he seems to have understood the

1 He is described as such by Diogenes, i. 121, and Eusebius, Chron. 60 Olympiad. The former, probably following Apollodorus, places his most flourishing period in the 59th Olympiad (640 BC), and the latter in the 60th Olympiad. Suidas (Φερεκ.) in a very obscure passage fixes his birth in Olympiad 45 (600-596 BC). His age is given by the Pseudo-Lucian (Macrob. 22, a passage where he certainly seems to be meant) as 85. Neither of these statements, however, is altogether trustworthy, though perhaps neither is far from the truth; and there are besides other reasons against our drawing any such definite conclusion as Conrad, who thus sums up (p. 14) his careful discussion of this question: Phereeydes was born in the 45th Olympiad or shortly before, and died, ‘octogenarius fere,’ towards the end of the 62nd Olympiad. (Between Οlympiad 45, 1, to 62, 4, moreover, there are only 71-72 years.) Nor does the assertion that Pythagoras tended him in his last illness help us at all, partly because it is itself very untrustworthy, and partly because this occurrence is placed by some before Pythagoras’ emigration to Italy, and by others in the last period of his life. Cf. Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 455 sq.; Iamb. Vita Pythag. 184, 252; Diogenes L. viii. 40.
2 Cf. the anecdotes in Diogenes L. i. 116 sq.
3 The commencement of this work, in Diogenes L. i. 119 (cf. Damascius, De Princ. p. 384; and Conrad, p. 17, 21) was as follows: Ζεὺς μὲν καὶ Χρόνος ἐσ ἀεί καὶ Χθὼν ἦν. Χθονίῃ δὲ ὄνομα ἐγένετο Γῆ, ἐπειδὴ αὐτῇ Ζεὺς γέρας διδοῖ. By γέρας we cannot, with Tiedemann (Griechenlands erste Philosophen, 172), Sturz (loc. cit. p. 45) and others, understand motion; nor with Brandis the original qualitative determination, for this latter is far too abstract a conception for Pherecydes, and he can hardly have regarded the earth as moved. Neither interpretation, in fact, can be got out of the word; what it means is: Since Zeus conferred honour upon her. We may either understand by this honour, what always seems to me the most probable, the adornment of her surface, mentioned immediately after (the garment with which Zeus covered the earth); or else, with Conrad, p. 32, the honour of her union with Zeus, by which the Earth became the mother of many gods (p. 74, 2). Pherecydes means to derive the name γῆ from γέρας. This circumstance of itself forbids the substitution of πέρας for γέρας, proposed by Rose, De Aristotle libr. ord. 74; but the sense we should get by this change is, in my opinion, very unsatisfactory.

|91| earth; by Chronos, or Cronos, 1 that part of heaven nearest the earth, and the deity ruling it; 2 by Zeus, the highest god, disposing and forming the whole universe, and himself at the same time the highest heaven. 3

1 So he is called by Hermias (Irrisio, c. 12), who expressly says that Κρόνος is the same as Χρόνος. In Damascius, on the contrary, where Conrad, p. 21, also reads Κρόνον, I find in the manuscripts no other reading than Χρόνον.
2 By the Cronos of Pherecydes is generally understood Time—so Hermias loc. cit. and Probus on Virgil’s Eclogae, vi. 31. Pherecydes himself indicates this signification when he puts Χρόνος instead of Κρόνος. Yet it is scarcely credible that so ancient a thinker should have placed the abstract conception of Time among the primitive causes; and Cronos, in fact, appears as a much more concrete nature when it is told of him (vide infra) that he created from his seed fire, wind and water, and that he was the leader of the gods in the conflict with Ophioneus. That this only means that in course of time fire, wind and water arose, and that in course of time Ophioneus was conquered, I cannot believe. If the gods at strife with Ophioneus represent certain powers of nature, Cronos, their leader, must be something more real than merely Time; and if fire, wind and water were formed from the seed of Chronos, this seed must be conceived as a material substance, and Chronos must consequently represent a certain part, or certain constituents, of the world. If we consider that fire, wind and water are formed in the atmosphere during tempests, and that the fertilising rain is represented in the mythus of Uranus as the seed of the god of heaven; that Chronos, according to this original import, was not the god of Time in abstracto, but the god of the warm season, of the time of harvest, of the sun-heat (Preller, Griech. Mythol. i. 42 sq.), and, as such, was a god of heaven—that he was so regarded by the Pythagoreans when they identified the vault of heaven with Χρόνος, and called the sea the tears of Chronos (vide infra, Pythagorean system)—if we consider all this, the opinion given above, concerning which even Conrad’s (p. 22) and Brandis’s adverse judgment (Gesch. der Entw. der Griech. Phil. i. 59) have not shaken me, will appear to have far the most probability in its favour.
3 To Zeus, as the divine creator of the universe, the passage in Aristotle’s Metaphysics, xiv. 4, 1091 b, 8, refers: of γε μεμιγμένοι αὐτῶν (scil. τῶν ἀρχαίων ποιητῶν) καὶ τῷ μὴ μυθικως ἅπαντα λέγειν, οἷον Φερεκύδης καὶ ἕτεροί τινες, τὸ γεννῆσαν πρῶτον ἄριστον τιθέασι. As the notion of Zeus as god of heaven is based upon the idea of the sky itself, and as the gods of Pherecydes generally represent at the same time certain parts of the world, we may assume that he did not discriminate the world-creating power, which he calls Zeus, from the upper portion of the sky. The assertion of Hermias and Probas (loc. cit.) that by Zeus he understood Aether, and of Probus (loc. cit.) that he understood fire, show |92| that we are here concerned with an interpretation of the Stoics, and not with an original and authentic text. That Hermias should reduce Aether and Earth to the ποιοῦν and πάσχον is also entirely in harmony with the Stoic point of view. Cf. Zeller, Phil. der Gr. Part III. a, 119, second edition.

|92| Chronos produces from his seed fire, wind and water; the three primal beings then beget numerous other gods in five families. 1 When Zeus, in order that he might fashion the world,’ had changed himself into Eros (who, according to the ancient theory, must be the world-forming

1 Damascius, loc. cit.: τὸν δὲ Χρόνον ποιῆσαι ἐκ τοῦ γόνου ἑαυτοῦ πῦρ καὶ πνεῦμα καὶ ὕδωρ,…ἐξ ὧν ἐν πέντε μυχοῖς διῃρημένων πολλὴν γενεὰν συστῆναι θεῶν, τὴν πεντέμυχον καλουμένην. To the same μυχοί (as Brandis thinks, p. 81) the statement of Porphyry perhaps refers (De antro nymph. c. 81), according to which Pherecydes mentions μυχοὺς καὶ βόθρους καὶ ἄντρα καὶ θύρας καὶ πύλας: though Porphyry himself sees in them the γενέσεις καὶ ἀπογενέσεις ψυχῶν. Preller (Rheinisches Museum 382, Encycl. 243) thinks that Pherecydes here intends to speak of five admixtures, in various proportions, of the elementary substances (Aether, Fire, Air, Water, Earth), in each of which one of these elementary substances predominates. It seems to me, however, very hazardous to ascribe to the ancient philosopher of Syra a theory of the Elements in the sense of Empedocles or Aristotle (a theory which presupposes a far more developed stage of philosophic reflection), or to believe that he anticipated Philolaus in fixing the number of these elements at five. Conrad’s modification also of this interpretation, by which the five μυχοὶ are made to signify the five layers, circumfolding each other, of earth, water, air, fire and aether (loc. cit. p. 35), attributes to Pherecydes, as it appears to me, a view of the world that is too scientific and too similar to Aristotle’s; the theory, especially, of a fiery sphere invisible to us, and the precise discrimination of aether from fire and air, is, according to all other traces of it, much later. It would be more reasonable to suppose that Pherecydes distinguished Olympic gods, fire-gods, wind-gods, water-gods and earth-gods. Suidas says that the work of Pherecydes was named ἑπτάμυχος, from the μυχοί. Preller (Rheinisches Museum 378) conjectures instead πεντέμυχος. Conrad (p. 35) adds to the above-mentioned five μυχοί the two divisions of the lower world, Hades and Tartarus. It is supposed (though this is not quite clear from Origen, C. Cels. vi. 42) that Pherecydes himself distinguished Hades and Tartarus. Nothing certain, however, can be made out on the subject. Plato, in Sophist 242 C: ὁ μὲν (μῦον διηγεῖται) ws τρία τὰ ὄντα, πολεμεῖ δὲ ἀλλήλοις ἐνίοτε αὐτῶν ἄττα πῆ, τοτὲ δὲ καὶ φίλα γιγνόμενα γάμους τε καὶ τόκους καὶ τρυφὰς τῶν ἐκγόνων παρεχεται, doubtless refers to the exposition we have been considering.
2 Proclus in Tim. 156 A.

|93| force), he made, we are told, a great robe, on which he embroidered the earth and Ogenos (Oceanos), and the chambers of Ogenos; he spread this robe over an oak upborne by wings 1 (ὑπόπτερος), that is, he clothed the framework of earth floating in space 2 with the varied surface of land and ocean. 3 Ophioneus, with

1 His words in Clement, Stromata vi. 621 A, run thus: Ζὰς ποιεῖ φᾶρος μέγα τε καὶ καλόν: καὶ ἐν αὐτῷ ποικίλλει γῆν καὶ ὠγηνὸν καὶ τὰ ὠγηνοῦ δώματα. In reference to this, Clement (642 A) says: ᾐ ὑπόπτερος δρῦς καὶ τὸ ἐπ’ αὐτῇ πεποικιλμένον φᾶρος.
2 The wings in this case denote only free suspension, not swift motion.
3 Conrad opposes the above explanation on two accounts. First he agrees (p. 40) with Sturz (p. 51), that the winged oak is not merely the framework of the earth, but of the whole universe, and that the woof spread over the oak is the sky. Against this, I can only repeat what I have already, in the second edition of this work, replied to Sturz, that the tissue on which land and sea are embroidered (this alone can be meant by the words ἐν αὐτῷ ποικίλλει; and Clement also calls the φάρος itself πεποικιλμένον) cannot signify the sky. It would be easier to understand it as ‘the visible things that encompass the world’—therefore the surface of the earth and sky (cf. Preller, Rheinisches Museum 387, Encyklo. 244); but since earth and ocean are mentioned as the only objects embroidered on the woof, we have no ground for thinking of anything besides the terrestrial surface. Secondly, Conrad (p. 24 sqq.) supposes that by Χθὼν Pherecydes intends Chaos, the primitive matter, which contains all matters, except aether, in itself. Out of this, through the working of Zeus or Aether, the elemental matters earth, water, air, and fire were made; and the earth itself when separated from the primitive matter was called Χθονίη, as distinguished from Χθών. But the words quoted from Diogenes L. p. 72, 3, already exclude such a theory; for who would infer from the mere interchange between Χθὼν and Χθονίη that in the one case we are concerned with the mixture of all substances, and in the other with the earth which resulted from this mixture? Damascius, whom we have no right to charge with error in this matter, expressly mentions Ζεὺς, Χρόνος and Χθονία as the three first principles of Pherecydes (De princ. c. 124, p. 384). Again, when Pherecydes, according to Damascius, says that fire, air and water were made by Chronos ἐκ τοῦ γόνου ἑαυτοῦ, how can it be maintained that Zeus separated them out of Χθὼν? Conrad, lastly, urges that his theory best explains the statement (vide Achilles Tatius in Phaenom. c. 8, 123 E; Schol. in Hesiodi Theog. 116; Tzetz. in Lycophron, 145) that Pherecydes, like Thales, made water his first principle; but this does not help him much. For that statement rests upon suspicious testimony, and is besides entirely erroneous on the chief point, and Conrad himself acknowledges (p. 26) that in the chaotic primal matter which he thinks is denoted by the name of Χθὼν, Earth must have preponderated, to occasion the choice of this name. If there is any error, the cause of it may lie elsewhere, either in the doctrine of Pherecydes himself, or in a misapprehended account of the doctrine. Even an antithetical comparison of Pherecydes and Thales, like that in Sextus, Pyrrhōneioi hypotypōseis iii. 30, Math. ix. 360 (Pherecydes made earth, and Thales water, the principle of all things), might, by the careless hand of a copyist or compiler, be turned into a parallel between them; or someone who found Pherecydes classed with Thales, as one of the oldest philosophers, may have ascribed to him Thales’ doctrine. Perhaps even what Pherecydes said of Oceanus, or his statement about the seed of Cronos, or some other definition that has not come down to us, may have been explained in this way. Whether Pherecydes thought that the sea oozed out of the earth conceived as moist in its primeval condition, or was filled by water from the atmosphere (the water arising from the γονὴ of Cronos), is not clear from our documents; for it is certainly possible that the production of water by Cronos may not apply to the water of the sea.

|94| his hosts, representing probably the unregulated forces of nature, opposes this creation of the world, but the divine army under Chronos hurls them into the deep of the sea, and keeps possession of heaven. 1 As to any further battle of the gods, between Zeus and Chronos, Pherecydes seems to have been silent. 2

1 Celsus ap. Origen c. Cels. vi. 42; Max. Tyr. x. 4; Philo of Byblus ap. Eus. prep. Ev. i. 10, 33 (the latter represents Pherecydes as having borrowed this trait from the Phoenicians); Tertullian, De cor. mil. c. 7.
2 Preller (Rheinisches Museum 386) seeks to establish the contrary, and I followed him in my second edition. But though we find traces, with Apollonius and others (v. infra), of a theogony in which Ophion, Kronos and Zeus follow one another as rulers of the universe, we have no right to refer this representation to Pherecydes himself. With him Ophioneus fights indeed for the possession of heaven, but that he had it to begin with is not stated, and it is irreconcilable with the assertion that Zeus had been there from eternity, and still more with the utterance of Aristotle (supra p. 91, 33 cf. 98, 4.); for he adduces as a peculiarity of Pherecydes that in contradistinction to the older Theogonies he had declared the first principle to be the most perfect, asthey are blamed because βασιλεύειν καὶ ἄρχειν φασὶν οὐ τοὺς πρώτους, οἷον νύκτα, κ.τ.λ., ἀλλὰ τὸν Δία, and did not therefore regard the world-ruling power or Zeus as the πρῶτον. Pherecydes must himself have so regarded him. This, as Conrad rightly observes, also excludes the theory that Zeus first became lord of heaven and king of the gods by the overthrow of Cronos.

This is the |95| essential result to be gathered from scattered fragments and traditions respecting the doctrine of Pherecydes. If we compare it with the Hesiodic cosmogony, it undoubtedly evinces progress of thought. We find, even thus early, a definite attempt to discriminate, on the one hand, between the material constituents of the universe—the earth, and the atmospheric elements: and, on the other, between matter and plastic force. In what is said of the conflict of Chronos with Ophioneus, we seem to discern the thought that in the attainment of the present cosmical order the forces of the abyss were limited by the influence of the higher elements. 1 But the expression of all this is mythical, and in accordance with the older cosmological mythology. The world is not formed by the natural operation of original matter and forces; it is wrought by Zeus with the mysterious power of a god; the reduction of phenomena to natural causes, which is the first real commencement of Philosophy, is not here to be found. It would therefore be of little importance to the history of Philosophy to know that Pherecydes took certain details of his theory, such as the personality of Ophioneus, from Phoenician or Egyptian mythology; but whether important or not, the statement cannot be adequately proved by the testimony of so untrustworthy a writer as Philo of Byblus; 2 and the distinction between the destroying serpent god of Pherecydes and the serpent-shaped Agathodemon is so

1 The serpent is a chthonic animal, probably signifying Ophioneus. Vide Preller, Rheinisches Museum loc. cit., and Allg. Encyclo. p. 244.
2 In Eusebius loc. cit.

|96| apparent, that we might as well identify the former with the serpent form of Ahriman, or even, like Origen (loc. cit.), with the serpent of the Mosaic paradise, if so obvious, and among the Greeks so common, a symbol required a foreign derivation to account for it. The impossibility of referring the whole cosmogony of Pherecydes, in its essential features, 1 to the Egyptians, will at once appear on an intelligent comparison of his presentations with the Egyptian myths. 2 The assertions of certain later and untrustwerthy writers 3 as to his Oriental teachers are of little importance as evidence. 4 If our knowledge is imperfect in regard to Pherecydes, it is still more so in respect to some others, who contemporaneously, or nearly contemporaneously, with him set up various cosmological theories. Of Epimenides, the well-known hierophant of Solon’s time, 5 we

1 Zimmermann, loc. cit.
2 Another doctrine attributed to Pherecydes, and which equally must have come from the East, the dogma of Transmigration, has already been discussed, p. 68 sq.
3 Josephus, Contr. Apion. 1, 2, end, reckons him as belonging to the Egyptian and Chaldean schools. Cedren., Synops. i. 94 B, represents him as traveliing into Egypt. Suidas (Φερεκ.) says he used the secret writings of the Phoenicians; the Gnostic Isidorus in Clement, Stromata vi. 642 A, represents him as inspired by the prophecy of Cham; by which, however, is probably intended, not the Egyptian and Phoenician wisdom as a whole, but a Gnostic work bearing that title.
4 We are, in the first place, entirely ignorant on what tradition these statements are based; and next, It was easy and obvious to connect the teacher of Pythagoras (who was known to have held the Egyptian doctrine of Transmigration), as well as Pythagoras himself, with the Egyptians. The Chaldeans, in what concerns Pherecydes, were perhaps first added by Josephus; while the statement of Suidas probably originates with Philo of Byblus.
5 On the personality of Epimenides, his activity in Athens, and the stories that connected themselves with him, cf. Diogenes L. i. 109 sqq.; Suidas, Έπιμενίδης; Plutarch’s Solon, 12; S. Sap. Conv. 14; An seni s. ger. resp. i. 12, p. 784; Def. orac. i. 1, p. 409; De fac. lun. 24, 25, p. 940; Plato, Laws, i. 642 D (and also my treatise on the Anachronisms of Plato, Abhandlungen der Berlinischen Akademie, 1873, History of Philosophy, p. 95 sq.) What Damascius quotes from him is taken from his own theogony, Diogenes L. i. 111.

|97| are told by Damascius that, 1 according to Eudemus, he admitted two first causes,—the Air and Night; 2 and proceeding from these a third, Tartarus. From them sprang two other beings, not precisely designated, whose union produced the egg of the universe; a denotation of the celestial sphere which is found in several cosmogonies, and which very naturally resulted from the representation of the world’s origin as analogous to the development of animal life. Whether this notion was transplanted from Western Asia to Greece, whether it was arrived at independently by Greek mythology, or whether, lastly, it had been preserved in ancient tradition from the earliest sources of the Greek race,—are questions we must leave unanswered. From this egg other existences were produced. The thought contained in this cosmogony, as far as our meagre information enables us to criticise it, is unimportant, whether we consider Epimenides himself to have made the alteration in the Hesiodic representation, or, in doing’ so, to have followed the example of some more ancient predecessor. The same holds good of Acusilaos, 3 who was much more closely allied to Hesiod, for he represents Chaos as bringing forth a male and a female being—Erebus and Night; Aether, Eros, 4 Metis, and

1 De Princ. c. 124, p. 384, Kopp.
2 These two principles evidently represent, after the manner of the Hesiodic Theogony, a sexual syzygy: the Air, ὁ ἀήρ, is the male principle; Night, the female principle.
3Ap. Damascius (loc. cit.) again according to Eudemus; Brandis, p. 86, also rightly refers to Plato, Symposium, 178 C, Schol. heocrit. argum. Id. xiii. Clement Al. Stromata vi. 629 A. Josephus contra Apionem, 1. 3.
4 Schol. Theocrit. classes him as the son of Night and Aether.

|98| a number of divinities being the result of their union. There are some other traces of cosmogonic tradition; 1 but we pass them over, in order to proceed at once to the consideration of the Orphic cosmogonies. 2
  Four versions of such cosmologies are known to us under the name of Orpheus. In one of these, the version used by Eudemus 3 the Peripatetic, and most probably before his time by Aristotle 4 and Plato, 5

1 Alluded to by Brandis. loc. cit., p. 86. It is said that Ibycus, Frag. 28 (10), like Hesiod, made Eros spring from Chaos; and that the comic poet Antiphanes, ap. Irenaeus (adv. Haer. ii. 14, 1), differed on some points from Hesiod.
2 For what follows, cf. Schuster, De vet. Orphice Theogonie indole. Leipzig, 1869.
3 Damascius, c. 124, p. 382. That by this Eudemus is intended the pupil of Aristotle, is plain from Diogenes, Proem. 9. Cf. Damascius, p. 384.
4 Metaphysics xii. 6, 1071 b, 26: ὡς λέγουσιν οἱ θεολόγοι of ἐκ νυκτὸς γεννῶντες. Πϊά. xiv. 4, 1091 b, 4: οἱ δὲ ποιηταὶ οἱ ἀρχαῖοι ταύτῃ ὁμοίως, ἢ βασιλεύειν καὶ ἄρχειν φασὶν οὐ τοὺς πρώτου, οἷον νύκτα καὶ οὐρανὸν ἢ χάος ἢ ὠκεανὸν, ἀλλὰ τὸν Δία. These words cannot refer simply to systems in which Night, though placed among the oldest deities, occupies only a third or fourth place (as is the case in the Hesiodic and ordinary Orphic theogony). They presuppose a cosmology in which either Night alone, or Night in conjunction with other equally original principles, has the first place; for Metaphysics xii. 6 treats of the primitive state which preceded all Becoming; and in reference to this, Aristotle says it is equally impossible for the theologians, who make all things arise out of Night, and for the physicists, who commence with the mixture of all things, to explain the beginning of motion. Also the second passage agrees so little with the ordinary Orphic cosmology, that Syrianus, commenting on it (Schol. in Aris. 935 a, 18), finds fault with Aristotle for misrepresenting the Orphic doctrine. This passage must equally point to a theogony like that spoken of by Eudemus; for here Night is made the first principle; as with Hesiod, Chaos. and with Homer, Oceanus; the sky it certainly is not in either of the representations known to us; but in the Eudemic Orpheus, the sky occupies the second place, and in Hesiod the third. As the Eudemie Orpheus alone, as far as we know, with the exception of Epimenides, puts Night in the place of Chaos as the first of all things, it is very probable that Aristotle, as well as his scholar Eudemus, may be referring to him.
5 Schuster (loc. cit. 4 sqq.) thinks this is probable from Crat. 402 B, and Tim. 40 D sq. (where by the poets who affirm themselves to be the sons of the gods are meant Orpheus and Musaeus; these are mentioned by name, Rep. 364 E, while nothing of the kind is said of Hesiod). It is no argument against it (as Schuster shows), that in the verses quoted by Cratylus, the marriage of Oceanus and Tethys is deseribed as the first marriage, whereas they themselves are the children of Uranus and Gea; and because the Timaeus begins the sketch of the Theogony with the words, Γῆς τε καὶ Οὐρανοῦ παῖδες ’Ωκεανός τε καὶ Τηθὺς ἐγενέσθην, it does not follow that Plato denies Night to be the first principle. If the passage related to the Hesiodic Theogony (which does not, like Plato, make Cronos and Rhea children of Oceanus and Tethys), Chaos and Night would still have been passed over; but Plato could as well leave out Night in this passage as Aristotle, Metaphysics xiv. 4, the earth; and Metaphysics i. 8, 989 a, 10 (φησὶ δὲ καὶ ‘Ησίοδος τὴν γῆν πρώτην γενέσθαι τῶν σωμάτων), Chaos. He begins with those gods who, as parents, open the series of gods springing from sexual union; what was prior to the earth and the heavens he does not enquire.

|99| Night is represented as the first of all things. Beside Night are placed the Earth and the sky, 1both of which apparently proceeded from Night, as with Hesiod the Earth came forth from Chaos; Night being here substituted for Chaos. 2 The children of Uranus and Gea are Oceanus and Thetis; 3 obviously a very slight departure from the Hesiodic tradition. A second theogony (perhaps an imitation, or possibly the foundation of Pherecydes’ story of the battle of the gods) seems to be alluded to by Apollonius, 4 for he represents his Orpheus as singing how at first earth and sky and water separated themselves out of the commingling of all things, how sun and moon and stars began their courses, and mountains, rivers and animals came into being; how Ophion and Eurynome, daughter of Oceanus, ruled in Olympus, how they were afterwards hurled into

1 Eudemus, loc. cit.; Joannes Lydus, De mensibus, 11. 7, p. 19, Schow. His words, τρεῖς πρῶται κατ᾽ Ὀρϕέα ἐξεβλάστησαν ἀρχαὶ, νὺξ καὶ γῆ καὶ οὐρανὸς, are rightly applied to this Eudemic ‘Theology of Orpheus’ by Lobeck, i. 494.
2 In favour of this theory, vide Aristotle Metaphysics xii. 6 (supra, 98, 4), and especially Damascius, p. 382: ἢ δὲ παρὰ τῷ Περιπατητικῷ Εὐδήμῳ ἀναγεγραμμένη ὡς τοῦ ᾿Ορφέως οὖσα θεολογία πᾶν τὸ νοητὸν ἐσιώπησεν…ἀπὸ δὲ τῆς νυκτὸς ἐποιήσατο τὴν ἀχρήν.
3 According to Plato; cf. p. 98,5.
4 Argonaut. i. 494 sqq.

|100| the ocean by Cronos and Rhea, and these in their turn were overthrown by Zeus. Traces of this theogony are also to be met with elsewhere; 1 but philosophic conceptions are as little to be detected in it as in the poems of Hesiod. A third Orphic cosmogony 2 places at the beginning of cosmical development water and primitive slime, which latter solidifies and forms the earth. From these two a dragon arises, winged, and with the face of a god: on one side he has the head of a lion, and on the other that of a bull. He is called by the mythologists, Heracles and Chronos, the never-aging one; with him is united Necessity, or Adrastea (according to Damascius, in a hermaphrodite form), who is said to be spread abroad incorporeally throughout the universe to its remotest ends. Chronos-Heracles produces a gigantic egg, 3 which, dividing in the midst, forms with its upper half the sky, and with its lower, the earth. There seems to have been further mention 4 of a

1 Cf. what is cited by Preller, Rheinisches Museum N. F. iv. 386 sq., from Lycophr. Alex. v. 1192; and Tzetzes, in h. l., Schol. Aristoph. Clouds 247; Schol. Aeschylus Prometheus 955; Lucian, Tragodopod. 99. Though Orpheus is not named in these passages, we find in them, as in the Orpheus of Apollonius, that Ophion, Chronos and Zeus are regarded as the three kings of the gods, of whom the two first were overthrown by their successor. Perhaps the statement of Nigidius Figulus relates to the same theogony (Serv. ad Ecl. iv. 10), namely, that according to Orpheus, Saturn and Jupiter were the first rulers of the world; the tradition which he follows, however, seems to have set aside Ophion and Eurynome.
2 Ap. Damascius, 381. Athenag. Supplic. c. 15 (18).
3 According to Brandis, i. 67, Chronos first begot Aether, Chaos and Erebus, and afterwards the egg of the world; Lobeck’s view of the passage (Aglaophamus i. 485 sq.), however, seems to me undoubtedly correct; according to this view, what is said of the begetting of Aether etc. is referred, not to the cosmogony of Hellanicus, but to the usual Orphic theogony in which it is really to be found.
4 The confused representation of Damascius leaves it somewhat uncertain whether these features really belong to this theogony.

|101| god who had golden wings on his shoulders, bulls’ heads on his haunches, and a huge snake appearing among various animal forms on his head; this god, described by Damascius as incorporeal, is called Protogonos or Zeus, and also Pan, as bringing order into all things. Here not only is the symbolism far more complicated than with Eudemus, but the thoughts, too, are in advance of the cosmogonies we have been considering. Behind Chronos and Adrastea are the abstract notions of time and necessity; the incorporeality of Adrastea and Zeus presupposes a discrimination of corporeal and spiritual which was unknown even to Philosophy until the appearance of Anaxagoras; the spreading out of Adrastea through the universe reminds us of the Platonic doctrine of the World-soul; and in the conception of Zeus as Pan we recognise a pantheism, the germ of which lay, indeed, from the beginning in the naturalistic religion of the Greeks, but which cannot be proved by authentic evidence to have actually existed before the period when the individuality of the various gods had been destroyed by religious syncretism, and when Stoicism had done much to spread abroad the pantheistic theory of the universe; for none of the older systems, however pantheistic in tendency, had so great or so general an influence. The pantheistic element comes out still more clearly in the story of the birth and swallowing of Phanes 1 (infra, pp. 104, 106).

1 That this trait was present in mentioning Phanes from any other the Orphic theogony of Hellanicus exposition than that from which is clear from Athenag. c. 16 (20), he had previously made quotations for it is most improbable that he exactly corresponding with the should have taken the Orphic verses Hellanicus theogony of Damascius. Cf. Schuster, p. 32, whose other conjectures, however, p. 83, do not commend themselves to me.

|102| If, therefore, this cosmogony, as is usually supposed, 1 was known to Hellanicus of Lesbos in the middle of the fifth century, we must assign many ideas which appeared only in the later Greek Philosophy to an earlier period. Lobeck, however (loc. cit.), and Müller 2 rightly question whether such could have been the case. Damascius himself hints at the doubtful source of the account he follows; 3 its content bears pretty evident internal traces of an after date, and as we certainly know that spurious writings of a very late period were circulated 4 under the name of the Lesbian logographer,

1 Which Brandis accepts, loc. cit. p. 66.
2 Fragmenta hist. Grec. 1. xxx.
3 His words, loc. cit., are: Τοιαύτη μὲν ἢ συνήθης ᾿Ορφικὴ θεολογία. ἢ δὲ κατὰ τὸν Ἱερώνυμον φερομένη καὶ Ἑλλάνικον, εἴπερ μὴ καὶ ὃ αὐτός ἐστιν, οὕτως ἔχει. ‘They appear to me to convey that the work of which they are treating was attributed to Hieronymus as well as to Hellanicus, and that Damascius himself, or his authority, was of opinion that under these two names one and the same author was concealed; who in that case naturally could not have been the ancient logographer of Lesbos.
4 Vide Miller, loc. cit. Schuster, in his excursus on the theogony of Hellanicus, loc. cit. pp. 80-100, conjectures with Lobeck that its author was Hellanicus, otherwise unknown to us, the father of the philosopher Sandon (Suidas, Σάνδων), whose son (the Stoic Athenodorus of Tarsus) was the, instructor of Augustus, and whom Schuster calls, I know not why, Apollodorus. This conjecture has in its favour that Sandon, according to Suidas, wrote ὑποθέσεις εἰς ᾿ρφέα; and if Hellanicus, like his grandson, and probably also his son, was a Stoic, this would agree with the fact that the theogony (as Schuster, loc. cit. 87 sqq. proves) has points of contact with the Stoic pantheism and treatment of myths. The saying of Damascius, however, quoted in note 3, seems to me to contradict this assumption. If Hellanicus of Tarsus, in the end of the second century before Christ, published an Orphic theogony under his own name, it is difficult to see how this work could bear the name of Hieronymus as well, and how Damascius could imagine that the same author was concealed under these two names. Schuster (p. 100) believes that Hellanicus wrote the theogony, but borrowed the material of the first part from a work by Hieronymus. But this theogony cannot have been knownas the production of Hellanicus, for Athenagoras expressly ascribes to Orpheus the verses which Schuster rightly considers as having belonged to this work; besides, it was natural that a poem professing to set forth an Orphic theogony should announce itself as a work of Orpheus. Damascius does not say that Hellanicus and Hieronymus were described as the authors of the theogony; but as he calls the theogony used by Eudemus, c. 124: ἢ παρὰ τῷ περιπατητικῷ Εὐδήμῳ ἀναγεγραμμένη; so by ἢ κατὰ τὸν Ίερώνυμον φερομένη καὶ Ἑλλάνικον, he must mean a theogony, the contents of which Hieronymus and Hellanicus had expounded, but the author of which, as of all the other theogonies, was Orpheus. As to the fact that the divergences from the commonly received Orphic theogony are the same in both eases, and that Damascius conjectures the two authors to be one and the same, the easiest explanation seems to be that this exposition may have been found in two manuscripts, of which one bore the name of Hellanicus, and the other that of Hieronymus, and that Damascius believed one of these to have been falsely ascribed to its so-called author by the real author of the other. Now it appears from Porphyry Eusebius Pr. Ev., also known as Praeparatio Evangelica x. 3, 10, Suidas, Ζάμολξις, Athen. xiv. 652 a, and others (cf. Müller, loc. cit. and i. 65 sqq.), that in later times writings about foreign nations were in circulation under the name of Hellanicus of Lesbos, the authenticity of which there was good reason to doubt; in particular, the Αἰγυπτιακὰ is mentioned as a work that stands in Epictetus, Diss. 11. 19, 14; cf. Photius, Cod. 161, p. 104 a, 13 sq., for the type of a book of fables, and cannot possibly have emanated from the Lesbian writer, if only because Moses is mentioned in it (v. Justin, Cohort. 9, p. 10 a). We hear, on the other hand (Joseph. Ant. 1. 3, 6, 9), of an Egyptian Hieronymus, who wrote an ἀρχαιολογία φοινικικὴ, but who cannot possibly (as Muller, loc. cit., believes) be the same person as the Peripatetic of Rhodes. It seems a probable conjecture (Müller, ii. 450) that he was the person who, according to Damascius, had transmitted this Orphic theogony; and the idea gains considerable support from the observation (Schuster, loc. cit. 90 sqq.) that this theogony in its commencement, just where it differs from the ordinary Orphic theogony, coincides with the Phoenician cosmogonies. This Hieronymus may have affixed the name of Hellanicus to the Αἰγυπτιακὰ at the same time that he published the Phoenician history under his own name, and may have expressed himself in both works to the same effect concerning the Orphic theogony. That he composed such a theogony is, as we have said, unlikely. He seems rather to have confined himself to developing what he took from the common theogony by borrowing the notion of water and primitive slime from the Phoenician cosmology. His exposition must have been used by Athenagoras as well as by Damascius, for a Neo-Platonist can hardly be suspected of dependence on the Christian apologist (Schuster, p. 81); and besides, the exposition of Damascius goes farther than that of Athenagoras; what is said in the former of Hellanicus and Hieronymus is wanting in the latter.

|103| there is every probability that the Orphic theology does not belong to him at all, whatever may be the truth as to its authorship and the time of its composition.
  |104| Lobeck considers that we have a more ancient Orphic cosmogony in that designated by Damascius (c. 123, p. 380) as the usual Orphic theogony, or the one contained in the rhapsodies, and of which many fragments and notices 1 have been preserved. Here Chronos is represented as the first of all existences. He brings forth Aether and the dark immeasurable abyss, or Chaos: from these he then forms a silver egg, out of which, illuminating all things, proceeds Phanes, the first-born god, called also Metis, Eros, and Ericapaeus; 2 he contains within himself the germs of all gods, and for this reason, as it would appear, is described as hermaphrodite, and endowed with various animals’ heads, and other attributes of the kind. Phanes alone begets Echidna, or Night, and, in marriage with her, Uranus and Gea, the progenitors of the intermediate races of gods, whose history and genealogy are essentially the same as with Hesiod. When Zeus attains sovereignty he devours Phanes, and consequently is himself (as in our previous quotation from Orpheus 3) the ideal sum (Inbegriff) of all things. After having thus united all

1 Cf. Lobeck, loc. cit. 405 sqq.
2 There have been many conjectures as to the signification of this name. Cf. Göttling, De Ericap. (Jena, 1862), who derives it from ἔαρ and κάπος or κάπυς (breath), ventorum vernalium afflatus; Schuster, loc. cit. 97 sq. With the majority of commentators, I consider an Eastern origin probable, though I must leave it an open question whether Delitzsch (cf. Schuster, loc. cit.) has most reason for referring it to the Cabbalistic designation of the first of the ten Sephiroth,אריף אכפּין (long-visaged), or Schelling (Gotth. v. Samothr. W. W. i. Abth. viii. 402 sq.) for preferring the Old Testament ארך אפים (long-suffering).
3 Cf. supra, p. 64 sq.

|105| things in himself, he again puts them forth, producing the gods of the last generation, and forming the world. Among the stories of the younger gods (for the rest of which I must refer the reader to Lobeck), the most striking is that of Dionysus Zagreus, son of Zeus and Persephone, who, rent in pieces by the Titans, comes to life again in the second Dionysus, after Zeus has swallowed his heart, which was still entire.
  The theory that this whole theogony dates from the period of Onomacritus and the Pisistratidae, since the time of Lobeck 1 has found much favour, but I am unable to support it. The utterances of ancient authors which are supposed to contain allusions to such a theogony, do not carry us beyond the theogony which Eudemus made use of. Its existence is first distinctly attested in the pseudo-Aristotelian treatise on the world, 2 subsequently therefore to the Christian era, or at any rate not long before it; 3 for, as we have seen (supra, p. 65 sq.), the passage from the Platonic Laws (iv. 715 E) proves nothing, and still less can be deduced from the Aristotelian citation, 4 on which Brandis 5 relies so much. Since Plato in the ‘Symposium’ (178 B) does net mention Orpheus among those who assert the antiquity of Eros, we may rather indeed suppose that

1 Lobeck, however, advances it (p. 611) very cautiously, ut statin cessurus, si quis Theogoniam Orphicam Platone aut recentiorem aut certe non multo antiquiorem esse demonstraverit.
2 C. 7; according to Lobeck (i. 522 and elsewhere) we must suppose this to be an interpolation.
3 The date of Valerius Soranus is rather earlier. Varro in Augustine’s Civit. Dei, vii. 9, gives us two verses of his, which seem to refer to the Orphic theogony, and perhaps to the particular passage quoted from περὶ κόσμου. Yet he was only a later contemporary of Cicero.
4 Metaphysics xiv. 4; cf. supra, p. 98, 4.
5 Loc. cit. p. 69.

|106| the doctrine of this theogony, in regard to Eros-Phanes, was unknown to him; and since Aristotle’s indications, as above noted, only correspond with the theogony used by Eudemus, we cannot refer them to any other. If, however, Plato, Aristotle, and Eudemus did not possess that representation of the Orphic doctrines, which was at a later period in ordinary use, we must conclude with Zoëga 1 and Preller, 2 that it was not in circulation until after their time. I agree likewise with Zoëga that so learned a mythographer as Apollonius 3 would scarcely have made Orpheus sing of Ophion and Eurynome as the first rulers of the world, and Cronos and Rhea as the second, if the Orphic tradition then current had recognised Phanes and the elder gods. Even subsequently to this there are still traces to show that Phanes, the illuminating one, the centre of the subsequent Orphic cosmogony, was only another name for Helios, who, according to the later representation, was a much younger god. 4 Lastly, if we consider the story of Phanes, with the description of Zeus that is involved in it, with reference to its internal character and purpose, we shall find that it is impossible to assign

1 Abhandiungen, edited by Welcker, p. 215 sqq.
2 In Pauly’s Real-Encyl. v. 999.
3 Cf. supra, p. 99.
4 Diodorus, i. 11: many ancient poets call Osiris, or the sun, Dionysus: ὧν Εὔμολπος μὲν…ἀστροφανῆ Διόνυσον…Ὀρφεὺς δέ: τοὔνεκά μιν καλέουσι Φάνητά τε καὶ Διόνυσον. Macrob. i. 18: Orpheus solem volens intelligi ait inter cetera:…ὃν δὴ νῦν καλέουσι Φάνητά τε καὶ Διόνυσον. Theo. Smyrn. De Mus. c. 47, p. 164, Bull, from the Orphic, ὅρκοι: ἢέλιόν τε, φάνητα μέγαν, καὶ νύκτα μέλαιναν—φάνητα μέγαν, standing here, as the want of a connecting particle shows, in apposition to ἤέλιον: Helios the great illuminator. Iamblichus, Theologoumena arithmeticae p. 60: the Pythagoreans call the number ten φάνητα καὶ ἥλιον. Helios is often named Φαέθων; eg. Iliad, xi. 735. Odyssey v. 479; in the epitaph in Diogenes L. vi. 78, and elsewhere.

|107| this story to a very early period. Not only do we clearly discover in it that pantheism of which we have already spoken, 1 but the story can only be accounted for by a desire to reconcile the later interpretation, according to which Zeus is the ideal sum of all things, and the unity of the world, with the mythological tradition which represents him as the progenitor of the last generation of gods. To this end the Hesiodic myth of the swallowing of Metis by Zeus (in its origin most likely a rude symbolical expression for the intelligent nature of the god) is introduced, Metis being combined with the Helios-Dionysus of the earlier Orphic theology, with the creative Eros of the cosmogonies, and also perhaps with Oriental divinities, to form the personality of Phanes. Such an attempt, it is clear, could not have been made until the period of that religious and philosophic syncretism, which from the third century before Christ gradually gained ground, and was first reduced to a system by the allegorical interpretation of myths among the Stoics. 2 To that period therefore we

1 Vide supra, p. 64 sq.
2 Schuster is of a different opinion, though he agrees with me in placing the rhapsodic theogony not earlier than the last century, or last but one, before Christ. The verses, he says (p. 42 sq.), which are quoted in the writing περὶ κόσμου, loc. cit., could very well date from the time of the Pisistratidae, as they do not go beyond the well-known fragment of Aeschylus (cited Part I]. a, 28, 2); and the myth of Phanes-Ericapaeus, as well as that of Dionysus Zagreus, need not have come to Greece from the East earlier than the sixth century. In this, however, as it seems to me, the peculiar character of the Orphic fragments has not been sufficiently attended to. Pantheistic conceptions are certainly found in the poets of the filth century, and even earlier; but it is one thing to say generally, ‘Zeus is Heaven and Earth,’ and quite another to identify Zeus in detail, as these verses do, with all the different parts of the world, and among other things to attribute both sexes to him (Ζεὺς ἄρσην γένετο, Ζευς ἄμβροτος ἔπλετο νύμφη). No representation of the latter kind can be proved to have existed in the more ancient period. We cannot even argue directly from Aeschylus, or his son Euphorion (the probable author of the fragment), to Onomacritus and the time of the Pisistratidae. Lastly, in the Orphic verses, Zeus is said to be all, because he has concealed all things in himself, and brought them again to light; and that (as already shown on p. 65) is the true meaning of the stories about Phanes in the later Orphic theogony. There is nothing analogous to this thought before the appearance of the Stoic philosophy. It seems the most probable supposition, therefore, that this feature was really imported from the Stoics into the Orphic theology, and was merely a lifeless imitation of the theory (Part III. a, 139, second edition) that the Deity from time to time took all things back into himself, and again put them forth.

|108| must assign the elaboration of the Orphic theogony which we have now been considering.
  To sum up, then, the results of our enquiry, the direct gain which Philosophy has derived from the ancient cosmologies appears to be less than we may have been disposed to believe. Firstly, because the conceptions on which they are founded are so simple that thought could well have attained to them without any such help, so soon as it began to apply itself to the scientific investigation of things; and, secondly, because these cosmologies in their mythical symbolism are so ambiguous, and intermingled with so many fantastic elements, that they afford a very uncertain foundation for intelligent reflection. If, therefore, the ancient theologians are to be considered the precursors of the later physicists, their merit, as was asserted at the outset of our enquiry, mainly consisted in this: that they turned the current of reflection towards cosmological questions, and left to their successors the problem of explaining the totality of phenomena by the investigation of its ultimate causes. |109|

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§ 5. Theology and Anthropology in Their Relation to Ethics

  If the external world roused the Greeks in their lively feeling for nature to attempt cosmological speculation, the life and ways of men must no less have occupied the mind of a nation so intelligent and versatile, so full of freedom and capability in practical life. It was inevitable, however, that reflection should take a different course in regard to Ethics from that which it followed in regard to cosmology. The external world presents itself even to sensuous perception as a whole,—a building, the floor of which is the earth, and the roof, the vault of heaven; in the moral world, on the contrary, the unpractised glance sees nothing at first but a confused mass of individuals or small aggregates moving about capriciously and promiscuously. In the one case, attention is chiefly fixed upon the cosmos, the grand movements of the heavenly bodies, the varying conditions of the earth, and the influence of the seasons,—in short, upon universal and regularly recurring phenomena; in the other case, the interest centres on personal actions and experiences. There the imagination is required to fill up the lacunae in man’s knowledge of nature by means of cosmological inventions; here we require the understanding to set rules for practical conduct in specific cases. While therefore, cosmological reflection is from the outset employed upon the whole, and seeks to elucidate its origin, ethical reflection restricts itself to particular observations and rules of life, which are indeed founded on a |110| uniform manner of regarding moral relations, but are not consciously and explicitly reduced to general principles; and are only connected with more universal considerations respecting the lot of man, the future destiny of the soul, and the Divine government, in the indeterminate and imaginative mode of religious presentation. Ethical reflection is therefore much more barren than cosmological; starting from a sound and intelligent observation of what is real, it has certainly contributed not a little to the formal exercise of thought; but having arisen from a practical rather than a scientific interest, and being concerned rather with particular cases than with general laws and the essential nature of moral action,—from a material point of view its influence on philosophic enquiry has been far less immediate than that of the old cosmology. The pre-Socratic Nature-Philosophy was directly connected with cosmology, but it was only in the sequel that there arose a scientific moral Philosophy, as the philosophic counterpart of popular wisdom.
  Among the writings which show the growth of this ethical reflection, the Homeric poems must first be mentioned. The great moral importance of these poems rests, however, far less on the maxims and moral observations which occasionally appear in them, than on the characters and events which they depict. The tempestuous force of Achilles, the self-forgetful love of the hero for his dead friend, his humanity to the suppliant Priam, Hector’s courage in death, Agamemnon’s kingly presence, the ripe wisdom of Nestor, the inexhaustible cunning, the restless enterprise, the wary persistence of |111| Odysseus, his attachment to home and kindred, the sight of whom he prefers to immortality with the sea-goddess, the faithfulness of Penelope, the honour everywhere accorded in the poem to valour, prudence, fidelity, liberality, generosity to strangers and needy persons; and, on the other hand, the woes which ensued from the outrage of Paris, from the crime of Clytemnestra, from the treachery of the Trojans, from the discord of the Greek princes, from the arrogance of the suitors,—these and the like traits made the poems of Homer, in spite of all the barbarism and violence that still prevailed in the spirit of that time, a handbook of wisdom for the Greeks and one of the principal instruments of their moral education. Philosophy, too, has profited more in an indirect manner from these pictures of human life than directly from the reflections accompanying them. The latter are confined to short scattered moral sayings, like the beautiful utterance of Hector on fighting for one’s country, 1 or that of Alcinous on our duty to desolate strangers, 2 or exhortations to courage, constancy, reconciliation, and so forth, which are given for the most part, not in a general form, but poetically, in reference to the particular occasion; 3 observations on the acts and ways of men, and their consequences, 4 reflections on the folly of

1 Il. xii. 243: εἷς οἰωνὸς ἄριστος ἀμύνεσθαι περὶ πάτρης.
2 Od. viii. 546: ἀντὶ κασιγνήτου ξεῖνός θ᾽ ἱκέτης τε τέτυκται. Cf. Od. xvii. 485 and elsewhere.
3 Such as the numerous speeches of the chiefs: ἀνέρες ἐστὲ etc.; or the discourse of Odysseus, τέτλαθι δή, κραδίη, Od. xx. 18; or the exhortation of Phoenix, Il. ix. 496, 508 sqq.; or Thetis’ injunction to Achilles, Il. xxiv. 128 sqq.
3 Such as the sentences: Il. xvill. 107 sqq. on anger. Il. xx. 248, on the use of the tongue; Il. xxiii. 815. sqq. praise of prudence; the observation in Od. xv. 399, and others.

|112| mortals, the wretchedness and uncertainty of life, resignation to the will of the gods, abhorrence of injustice. 1 Such utterances incontestably prove that not only moral life, but also reflection on moral subjects, had made a certain degree of progress in the time to which the poems of Homer belong, and what has previously been said on the importance of popular wisdom in regard to Philosophy applies with equal force here. We must not, however, on the other hand, overlook the distinction between these incidental and isolated reflections, and a methodical moral Philosophy, conscious of the end it is pursuing.
  Hesiod’s rules of life and moral observations are of a similar character; but it must be regarded as some approximation to the modes of scientific reflection, that he utters his thoughts on human life, not merely incidentally in the course of an epic narration, but in a didactic poem designed for this express purpose. In other respects, even apart from the economic directions, and the various superstitious prescripts, which occupy the second part of the ‘Works and Days,’ the thoughts are as incoherent, and as much derived from single experiences, as the maxims in the Homeric discourses. The poet exhorts to justice, and warns against injustice, for the all-seeing eye of Zeus watches over the actions of men; well-doing alone brings blessing;

1 Thus in Od. xviii. 129: οὐδὲν ἀκιδνότερον γαῖα τρέφει ἀνθρώποιο, etc., Il. vi. 146 (cf. xxi. 464): οἵη περ φύλλων γενεὴ τοίη δὲ καὶ ἀνδρῶν. Il. xxiv. 620: The fate of mortals is to live among sighs; Zeus decrees prosperity or adversity as he wills. Od. vi. 188: bear what Zeus has ordained. On the other hand, cf. Od. 132: Man is wrong to ca!l the gods the authors of evil, which he himself has brought down upon himself by his faults.

|113| crime, on the contrary, will be punished by the gods. 1 He recommends frugality, diligence and contentment, and warmly rebukes the opposite faults; 2 he says it is better to keep the toilsome path of virtue than to follow the more attractive road of vice; 3 he counsels prudence in business, friendliness to neighbours, courtesy to all who are courteous to us. 4 He complains of the troubles of life, the cause of which he seeks, like the mythologists, in wrong done to the gods by the pride and presumption of men. 5 In the account of the five ages of the world, 6 he describes (it may be under the influence of historical reminiscences 7) the gradual deterioration of man and his circumstances. Though in this Hesiod departs considerably, in many respects, from the spirit of the Homeric poems, yet the stage attained by moral reflection is in both cases essentially the same. But in Hesiod it assumes a more independent attitude, for which reason only we recognise in him, rather than in Homer, the precursor of the Gnomic poets.
  We should be better able to trace the farther development of this reflection if more remained to us of

1 Ἔργα καὶ ἡμέραι, 200-283, 318 sqq.
2 Ibid. 359 sqq. 11 sqq. 296 sqq.
3 Ibid. 285 sqq.
4 Ibid. 368 sqq. 704 sqq. 340 sqq.
5 In the myth of Prometheus (Ἔργα καὶ ἡμέραι, 42 sqq.; Theognis, 507 sqq.), of which the general significance is the same as other mythical explanations of the evils by which we feel ourselves oppressed; namely, that man, discontented with his original happy and childlike state, stretched forth his hand towards good things which God had forbidden him.
6 Ἔργα καὶ ἡμέραι, 108 sqq.
7 Cf. Preller, Demeter und Persephone, 222 sqq.; Griech. Mythol. i. 59 sq.; Hermann, Ges. Abh. p. 306 sqq. and others. We must not, however, be too minute in our conjectures concerning the historical circumstances on which this mythus is founded.

|114| the numerous poems written in the next three centuries. Very few of such fragments as we possess carry us beyond the beginning of the seventh century, and these contain scarcely anything relevant to our present enquiry. Even from the fragments of the seventh century we can glean but very little. We may listen, indeed, to Tyrtaeus, 1 exalting courage in battle, and death for one’s country; or describing the disgrace of the coward and the unhappiness of the conquered; we get from Archilochus 2 (Frag. 8, 12-14, 51, 60, 65), from Simonides of Amorgos 3 (Frag. 1 sqq.), from Mimnermus 4 (Frag. 2 et passim), complaints of the transitoriness of youth, the burdens of old age, the uncertainty of the future, the fickleness of men; and, at the same time, exhortations to limit our desires, to bear our fate manfully, to commit the results of our actions to the gods, to be moderate both in sorrow and in joy. We find in Sappho 5 gnomic sentences, such as these: ‘The beautiful is also good, the good is also beautiful’ (Frag. 102); ‘Wealth without virtue does not profit, but in their union lies the acme of happiness.’ Nor must we omit to mention in this connection Simonides’ elaborate satire on women (Frag. 6). On the whole, however, the older lyricists, as also the great poets in the end of the seventh century, Alcaeus and Sappho, and long after them Anacreon, seem to have dealt but sparingly in such general reflections. It was not until the sixth century, contemporaneously, or nearly so, with the rise

1 Frag. 7-9 in Bergk’s edition of Greek lyrics, to which the following quotations relate. Tyrtaeus lived about 685 BC
2 About 700 BC
3 Before 650 BC
4 About 600 BC
5 About 610 BC

|115| of Greek Philosophy, that the didactic element in poetry appears to have again attained greater importance. Τo that period belong the Gnomic poets—Solon, Phocylides, and Theognis; their sayings, however, even irrespective of what we know to be interpolated, are mostly of doubtful authenticity. During the first half of the sixth century Aesop also lived, whose legendary form seems at any rate to prove that instructive fables about animals, in connection with the general growth of moral reflection, had then become greatly developed and popularised. In all these writers we find, as compared with the older poets, an advance clearly indicating that thought had ripened by the acquisition of more varied experience, and by the study of more complex situations. The Gnomic poets of the sixth century had before their eyes an agitated political existence, in which the manifold inclinations and passions of men found ample scope, but in which also the vanity and evil of immoderate aims and intemperate conduct had been demonstrated on a grand scale. Their reflections, therefore, are no longer concerned merely with the simple affairs of the household, the village, or the ancient monarchy; the condition of man as to his political circumstances is the prominent and determining element even in their general moral prescripts and observations. They heap up lamentations over the misery of life, the illusions and instability of men, and the vanity of all human endeavours; but it is only to assert the more forcibly that the moral problem consists in seeking man’s greatest happiness in the maintenance of just measure, in the order of |116|the commonwealth, in the impartial distribution of justice, in the reasonable repression of his desires. This tone is already predominant in the elegies ascribed to Solon. No mortal, we are there told, is happy, all are full of trouble 1 (Frag. 14); each thinks to find the right, and yet no one knows what will be the result of his doings, and no one can escape his destiny (Frag. 12, 33 sqq., Frag. 18); 2 hardly any can be trusted (cf. Frag. 41), none keeps measure in his efforts; the people by its own injustice destroys the city, which the gods would have protected (Frag. 3, 12, 71 sqq.). As opposed to these evils, the first necessity is law and order for the state, contentment and moderation for the individual; not wealth, but virtue, is the highest good; superfluity of possessions begets only self-exaltation; man can be happy with a moderate amount, and ought in no case to draw down upon himself the certain punishment of God by unrighteous gains. 3 The well-being of the state depends upon a similar disposition. Lawlessness and civil discord are the worst evils, order and law the greatest good for a commonwealth; right and freedom for all, obedience to the government, just distribution of honour and influence—these are the points which the legislator should keep in view, no matter what offence he may give by it. 4

1 Frag. 14. οὐδὲ μάκαρ οὐδεὶς πέλεται βροτὸς, ἀλλὰ πονηροὶ πάντες; here πονηρὸς, in opposition to μάκαρ. is not to be understood actively (πόνος, causing evil), but passively (πόνος, suffering evil, ἐπίπονος). as in the well-known verse of Epicharmus (vide infra, chapter on Pythagoreism, sub fin.) in Hesiod, Frag. 43, 5 et passim.
2 In Herodotus, 1, 31, Solon distinctly says that death is better for men than life.
3 Fr, 7, 12, 15, 16, and the well-known story of Herodotus, i. 30 sqq.
4 Frag. 3, 50 sqq. 4-7, 34, 35, 40.

|117| We meet with the same principles in the few authentic fragments that remain to us of the writings of Phocylides (about 540 BC). Noble descent is of no avail to individuals, nor power and greatness to the state, unless in the one case wisdom is superadded, and in the other order (Frag. 4, 5). Mediocrity is best; the middle rank is the happiest (Frag. 12); justice is the ideal sum of all virtues. 1 With these ideas Theognis 1 also substantially agrees; but in this writer we find sometimes his aristocratic view of politics, and sometimes his dissatisfaction with his lot (a consequence of his own personal and political experiences), brought into undue prominence. Brave and trustworthy people are rare, Theognis thinks, in the world (v. 77 sqq. 857 sqq.). Mistrustful circumspection is the more to be recommended in our intercourse with our fellow men (v. 309, 1163), the harder it is to fathom their sentiments (v. 119 sqq.). Truth, he complains (v. 1135 sqq.), and virtue, sincerity and the fear of God have deserted the earth; hope alone remains. Vain is the attempt to instruct the wicked, instruction will not alter them. 3 Fate, however, is as unjust as mankind. The good and the bad fare alike in the world (v. 373 sqq.); good fortune does more for a man than virtue (v. 129, 653); foolish conduct often brings happiness, and wise conduct, misery (v. 143, 161 sqq.); sons suffer for their fathers’ crimes; the criminals themselves

1 Frag. 18, according to others, of Theognis, or perhaps taken from some unknown writer.
2 A native of Megara, contemporary of Phocylides.
3 V. 429 sqq., with which (as Plato remarks in the Meno, 95 D it is not very consistent that Theognis should say in v. 27, 31 sqq. δέ passim, that from the good we learn good; and from the evil, evil.

|118| go unpunished (731 sqq.). Wealth is the only thing that men admire; 1 he who is poor, be he never so virtuous, remains wretched (137 sqq. 649). The best thing for man, therefore, is never to be born; the next best to die as soon as possible (425 sqq. 1013): no one is truly happy. But though this sounds very disconsolate, Theognis ultimately arrives at the same practical result as Solon; not indeed in reference to politics, for he is a decided aristocrat—the nobly born are with him the good; the mass of the people, the bad (eg. v. 31-68, 183 sqq. 893 et passim). His general moral standpoint, however, approaches very nearly to that of Solon. Because happiness is uncertain, and because our lot does not depend upon ourselves, he tells us we have all the greater need of patience and courage, of equability and self-possession in good fortune and in evil (441 sqq. 591 sqq. 657). What is best for man is prudence, what is worst is folly (895, 1171 sqq. 1157 sqq.); to guard against arrogance, not to overstep the right measure, to keep the golden mean, is the height of wisdom (151 sqq. 331, 335, 401, 753, 1103 et passim). Here, a philosophic moral principle is of course still wanting, for these scattered rules of life are not as yet based upon general enquiries concerning the essence of moral activity, but the various influences and experiences are already beginning to unite, much more consciously and definitely than with the older poets, to form a uniform and connected theory of human life.

1 V. 699 sqq. Cf., among others, the Fragment of Alcaeus in Diogenes L. i. 31, and the saying there quoted of Aristodemus the Spartan, who by some authors is reckoned one of the seven wise men.

  |119| Antiquity itself marked the importance of the epoch when ethical reflection began to be more decidedly developed, by the legend of the seven sages. Their names, as is well known, are variously given, 1 and such details as have come down to us respecting their lives 1 sound so improbable that we must regard them as fiction rather than history. The maxims, too, which are ascribed to them 3 are intermingled to such an extent

1 Only four are mentioned in all the enumerations: ‘Thales, Bias, Pittacus and Solon. Besides these, Plato (Prot. 343 A) names also Cleobulus, Myso and Chilo; instead of Myso, most writers (as Demetrius Phalereus ap. Stobaeus, Floril. 3, 79; Pausanias, x. 24; Diogenes L. i. 18, 41; Plutarch, Conv. S. Sap.) substitute Periander for Myso. Euphorus ap. Diogenes L. i. 41, and the author mentioned anonymously in Stobaeus, Floril. 48, 47, have Anacharsis. Clement, Stromata i. 299 B, says the accounts fluctuate between Periander, Anacharsis and Epimenides; the last is mentioned by Leander, who has also Leophantus in place of Cleobulus (Diogenes L. loc. cit.); Diceearchus leaves the choice of the three doubtful sages to be decided between Aristodemus, Pamphilus, Chilo, Cleobulus, Anacharsis, and Periander. Some include also Pythagoras, Pherecydes, Acusilaus, and even Pisistratus, in the number (Diogenes L. and Clement, loc. cit.). Hermippus ap. Diogenes L. (loc. cit.) mentions seventeen names among which the accounts are divided; viz. Solon, Thales, Pittacus, Bias, Chilo, Myso, Cleobulus, Periander, Anacharsis, Acusilaus, Epimenides, Leophantus, Pherecydes, Aristodemus, Pythagoras, Lasus of Hermione, Anaxagoras; if we add Pamphilus and Pisistratus, and the three named by Hippobotus (ap. Diogenes L. loc. cit., together with nine others), Linus, Orpheus, and Epicharmus, we get in all twenty-two persons of very various periods, who were counted among the seven wise men.
2 For instance, the anecdote related in Diogenes L. i. 27 sqq., Phoenix in Athen. xi. 495, and elsewhere in different versions, of the tripod (or, as others say, the goblet, cup, or dish) which was fished up out of the sea, and intended for the wisest, was first given to Thales, passed on by him to another, and so on, until at last it returned to him again, and was dedicated by him to Apollo. Cf. the accounts of the meetings of the four sages in Plutarch; Solon, 4; Diogenes L. i. 40 (where two descriptions of such meetings, probably analogous to those of Plutarch, are quoted from Ephorus and a certain Archetimus; cf. also the statement of Plato (Protag. 343 A) about the inscriptions they dedicated together at the temple of Delphi; the interpolated letters, ap. Diogenes, the assertion in Plut. De Ei. c. 3, p. 385, about Periander and Cleobulus.
3 Vide Diogenes L. i. 30, 33 sqq.; 58 sqq. 63, 69 sqq. 85 sq. 97 sqq. 103 sqq. 108; Clement, Stromata i. 300 A sq.; the collections of Demetrius Phalereus and Sosiades ap. Stobaeus; Floril. 3,79 sq.; Stobaeus himself in different parts of the same work, and many others.

|120| with later ingredients, and with proverbial expressions of unknown origin, that very few can be traced with any certainty to either of these men. 1 They are all, however, of the same character, consisting of isolated observations, maxims of prudence, and moral sentences belonging entirely to the sphere of popular and practical wisdom. 2 This quite accords with the circumstance that most of the seven sages were celebrated as statesmen and lawgivers. 3 We cannot but agree, therefore, with Dicaearchus 4 in regarding them as intelligent men, and capable legislators, but not as philosophers, or wise men in the sense of the Aristotelian School. 5 They only represent the practical culture which, about the end of the seventh century, received a new impulse in connection with the political circumstances of the Greek nation. Though they cannot be reckoned philosophers,

1 For example, the lyric fragments in Diogenes L. i. 71, 78, 85; the word of Pittacus, which Simonides quotes in Plato, Prot. 339 C; that of Cleobulus, also quoted by Simonides, ap. Diogenes L. i. 90; that of Aristodemus, quoted by Alcaeus, Diogenes L. i. 31.
2 The remarkable statement of Sextus (Pyrrh. ii. 65, M X, 45)—which would presuppose physical enquiries in others of the wise men besides Thales; viz. that Bias maintained the reality of motion—stands quite alone, and is probably only an idle and ingenious deduction from one of his poems or apophthegms.
3 Solon and Thales were thus distinguished, as is well known; Pittacus was Aesymnetes of Mytilene; Periander, tyrant of Corinth; Myso, according to Hipponax (Frag. 34 b, Diogenes L. i. 107), had been declared by Apollo the most blameless of men; the name of Bias was used proverbially for a wise judge (Hipponax, Demodicus, and Heracleitus ap. Diogenes L. i. 84, 88; Strabo, xiv. 12, p. 636 Cas.; Diodorus, Exc. de virtute et vit. p. 552 Wess). Chilo is said by Herodotus (i. 59) to have interpreted a miraculous portent.
4 Diogenes L. i. 40. Similarly Plutarch, Solon, c. 3 sub fin. The assertion to the contrary in the Greater Hippias, 281 c, ascribed to Plato, is manifestly incorrect.
5 Cf. Aristotle Metaphysics i. 1, 2; Eth. N. vi. 7.

|121| in the stricter meaning of the term, they stand on the threshold of Philosophy, a relation which tradition has strikingly expressed by distinguishing as the wisest of the seven, to whom the mythic tripod returns after completing its round, the founder of the first school of Natural Philosophy.
  In order to acquaint ourselves thoroughly with the soil from which Greek Philosophy sprang, we have still to consider how far the notions of the Greeks about God and human nature, before the middle of the sixth century, had been altered in the course of advancing culture. That some change had occurred we may take for granted, for in proportion as the moral consciousness is purified and extended, the idea of Deity, from which is derived the moral law and the moral government of the universe, must also become purified and extended; and the more man realises his liberty and his superiority to other natural existences, the more will he be inclined to distinguish the spiritual element of his own nature in its essence, origin and future destiny from the corporeal element. The progress of morals and of ethical reflection was therefore of great moment to theology and anthropology; but their influence was more broadly apparent when Philosophy had attained to an independent development. The older poets, subsequent to Homer and Hesiod, in their notions of Deity, do not essentially transcend the standpoint of their predecessors; we can only discover, by slight indications, that a purer idea of God was gradually forming itself, and the presupposed plurality of gods more and more giving place to the |122| conception of Zeus as the moral ruler of the universe. Under this aspect Archilochus celebrates him when he says (Frag. 79) that he beholds the works of men, both the evil and the good, and even watches over the doings of animals; and the more the poet is convinced that fate and fortune order all things, that the mind of man changes like the day which Zeus allots to him, that the gods raise those that are fallen, and cast down those that stand (Frag. 14, 51, 69)—the more earnest are his exhortations to commit all things to God. So also Terpander 1 consecrates the introduction of a hymn (Frag. 4) to Zeus, as the beginning and director of all things; and the elder Simonides sings (Frag. 1) that Zeus has in his hand the end of all that exists, and orders it as he wills. But similar passages are to be found even in Homer; and in this respect the difference between the two poets is, perhaps, only one of degree. Solon more decidedly passes beyond the older anthropomorphic idea of God, when he (13, 17 sqq.) says, ‘Zeus, indeed, watches over all things, and nothing is hidden from him, but he is not aroused to anger by individual acts as mortals are; when crime has accumulated, punishment breaks in like the tempest which sweeps the clouds from the sky, and so, sooner or later, retribution overtakes everyone.’ Here the influence of moral reflection reacting upon the notion of Deity cannot be mistaken. 2 We see the same reflection in Theognis

1 A later contemporary of Archilochus, about 680 BC
2 That the Divine retribution is often long withheld is a thought which we continually meet with, even as early as Homer (Il. iv. 160, and other passages), but the express antithesis of Divine retributive justice, and of human passion, shows a purer conception of Deity.

|123| with a different result; for the thought of the gods’ power and knowledge leads him to doubt their justice. ‘The thoughts of men,’ he says, ‘are vain (v. 141, 402): the gods bring to pass all things as seemeth them good, and vain are all a man’s efforts if the daemon has destined him to adversity. The gods know the mind and deeds of the just and of the unjust’ (v. 887). This consideration is sometimes connected (as in v. 445, 591, 1029 sqq.) with exhortations to resignation, but in other places the poet irreverently accuses Zeus of treating good and evil alike, of loading sinners with wealth, of condemning the righteous to poverty, and of visiting the sins of fathers on their innocent children. 1 If we may suppose such reflections to have been at. all frequent in those times, we can the more easily understand that some of the ancient philosophers should contemporaneously have opposed to the anthropomorphic notions of polytheism an essentially different conception of God. This conception, indeed, could only have come from Philosophy; unphilosophic reflection did no more than prepare the way for it, without actually quitting the soil of the popular faith.
  The same may be said of anthropology. The history of this order of ideas is completely bound up with the theories about death and a future state. The discrimination of soul and body originates in the sensuous

1 V. 373. Ζεῦ φίλε, θαυμάζω σε: σὺ γὰρ πάντεσσιν ἀνάσσεις τιμὴν αὐτὸς ἔχων καὶ μεγάλην δύναμιν, ἀνθρώπων δ᾽ εὖ οἶσθα νόον καὶ θυμὸν ἑκάστου, σὸν δὲ κράτος πάντων ἔσθ᾽ ὕπατον, βασιλεῦ: πῶς δή σευ, Κρονίδη, τολμᾷ νόος ἄνδρας ἀλιτροὺς ἐν ταὐτῇ μοίρῃ τόν τε δίκαιον ἔχειν, etc., similarly 731 sqq., where the question is likewise asked: καὶ τοῦτ᾽, ἀθανάτων βασιλεῦ, πῶς ἐστι δίκαιον, κ.τ.λ.

|124| man from his experience of their actual separation, from beholding the corpse out of which the animating breath has departed. Therefore the notion of the soul at first contains nothing but what may be immediately derived from that experience. The soul is represented as an essence of the nature of breath or air; as corporeal (for it dwells in the body and quits it at death in the manner of something extended 1), but without the completeness and power of the living man. In regard to the soul after its separation from the body and departure to the other world, we know from the Homeric representations what was thought on the subject; 2 the substance of the man is his body; 3 the bodiless souls in Hades are like shadows and shapes of mist, or like forms which appear in dreams to the living, but cannot be grasped; vital power, speech, and memory have deserted them; 4 the sacrificial blood of offerings restores their speech and consciousness, but only for a little time. A few favoured ones, indeed, enjoy a happier fate; 5 while

1 The soul of a murdered person, for instance, escapes through the wound. Cf. Il. xvi. 505, 856; xxii. 362, and many other passages in Homer.
2 Od. x. 490 sqq.; xi. 34 sqq. 151 sqq. 215 sqq. 386 sqq.; 466 sqq.; xxiv. sub init.; Il. i. 3; xxiii. 69 sqq.
3 The αὐτὸς in opposition to the ψυχὴ, Il. i. 4.
4 This is the usual description, with which Od. xi. 540 sqq. 567 sqq. is certainly at variance.
5 e.g. Tiresias, who by the favour of Persephone retained his consciousness in Hades; the Tyndaridae, who alternately lived above and beneath the earth (Od. xi. 297 sqq.); Menelaus and Rhadamanthus, who, the one as the son-in-law, the other as the son of Zeus, were taken to Elysium instead of dying. (Od. iv. 561 sqq.) The strange statement that Hercules was himself in Olympus, while his shadow remained in Hades (Od. xi. 600)—a notion in which later allegorists have sought so many profound meanings—is to be explained simply from the fact that vv. 601-603 are an interpolation of a later period, when the hero had been deified, and it was therefore impossible to think of him as any longer in Hades.

|125| the saying of Achilles that the life of the poorest labourer is better than dominion over shadows, applies to all the rest. But as this privilege is limited to solitary cases, and is connected not with moral worth, but with some arbitrary favour of the gods, we can hardly seek in it the idea of future retribution. This idea comes out, it is true, more strongly in Homer, when he speaks of the punishments undergone by souls after death; but here again only marked and exceptional offences against the gods 1 incur these extraordinary penalties, which, therefore, have rather the character of personal revenge; and the future state generally, so far as any part of it, either for good or for evil, goes beyond an indistinct and shadowy existence, is determined far more by the favour or disfavour of the gods than by the merits of mankind.
  A more important conception of the future life might be found in the honours accorded to the dead, and the idea of universal moral retribution. From the former sprang the belief in daemons, which we first meet with in Hesiod. 2 This origin of daemons is shown, not only by the hero-worship which afterwards sprang up, but by the passage in Hesiod 3 which says

1 The Odyssey, xi. 575 sqq., relates the punishment of Tityus, Sisyphus and Tantalus; and in Il. iii. 278, perjured persons are threatened with punishment hereafter.
2 Ἔργα καὶ ἡμέραι, 120 sqq. 139 sq. 250 sqq.
3 Loc. cit. 165 sqq. Cf. Ibycus Frag. 33 (Achilles we read married Medea in Elysium). The same poet represents (Frag. 34) Diomede, like the Homeric Menelaus, as becoming immortal. Pindar, Nemean x. 7, says the same thing. Achilles is placed by Plato in the Islands of the Blest (Symposium 179 E; cf. Pindar, Olympiad ii. 148); Achilles and Diomede likewise—vide the Scolion of Callistratus on Harmodius (Bergk Poetae Lyrici Graeci 1020, 10, from Athen. xv. 695 B).

|126| that the great chiefs of the heroic times were taken after their death to the Islands of the Blest. The theory of opposite states, not merely for individuals, but tor all the dead, is contained in the doctrine we lately considered of the mystic theologians, that in Hades the consecrated ones live with the gods, the unconsecrated are plunged in night and a miry swamp. But this notion must have acquired a moral significance later on; at first, even when it was not so crudely apprehended, it was still only a means of recommending the initiatory rites through the motives of hope and fear. Transmigration 1 took its rise more directly from ethical considerations; here it is precisely the thought. of moral retribution which connects the present life of man with his previous and future life. It appears, however, that this doctrine in early times was confined to a somewhat narrow sphere, and became more widely diffused first through the Pythagoreans and then through Plato. Even the more general thought on which it is founded, the ethical conception of the other world as a state of universal retribution, seems to have been slow to receive recognition. Pindar, indeed, presupposes this conception, 2 and in after writers, as in Plato, 3 it appears as an ancient tradition already set aside by the enlightenment of their time. In the Lyric poets, on the other hand, we find, when they speak of the life beyond, that they still keep in all essential respects to the Homeric representations. Not only does Anacreon recoil with horror from the terrible pit of Hades (Frag. 43), but Tyrtaeus

1 Vide supra, p. 67 sqq.
2 Vide supra, p. 70, note 4.
2 Rep. i. 330 D, ii. 368 C.

|127| too (9, 3) has no other immortality to set before the brave than that of posthumous fame; Erinna (Frag. 1) says the glory of great deeds is silent with the dead; and Theognis (567 sqq. 973 sqq.) encourages himself in the enjoyment of life by the reflection that after death he will lie dumb, like a stone, and that in Hades there is an end of all life’s pleasures. There is no evidence in any Greek poet before Pindar, of the hope of a future life.
  We find then, as the result of our enquiry up to this point, that in Greece, the path of philosophic reflection had been in many ways cleared and prepared, before the advent of Thales and Pythagoras, but that it had never been actually attempted. In the religion, civil institutions, and moral conditions of the Greeks, there was abundant material, and varied stimulus for scientific thought: reflection already began to appropriate this material; cosmogonic theories were propounded: human life was contemplated in its different aspects from the standpoint of religious faith, of morality, and of worldly prudence. Many rules of action were set up, and in all these ways the keen observation, open mind and clear judgment of the Hellenic race asserted and formed themselves. But there was as yet no attempt to reduce phenomena to their ultimate ground, or to explain them naturally from a uniform point of view from the same general causes. The formation of the world appears in the cosmogonic poems as a fortuitous event, subject to no law of nature; and if ethical reflection pays more attention to the natural connection of causes and effects, on the other hand it |128| confines itself far more than cosmology within the limits of the particular. Philosophy learned indeed much from these predecessors, in regard both to its form and matter; but Philosophy did not itself exist until the moment when the question was propounded concerning the natural causes of things. |129|

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Chapter III. On the Character of Greek Philosophy

  By seeking to determine the common characteristic which distinguishes a long series of historical phenomena from other series, we are at once encountered by this difficulty:—that in the course of the historical development all particular traits alter, and that consequently it appears impossible to find any single feature which shall belong to every member of the whole that we want to describe. Such is the case in regard to Greek Philosophy. Whether we fix our attention on the object, method or results of Philosophy, the Greek systems display such important differences among themselves, and such numerous points of contact with other systems, that, as it would seem, we cannot rest upon any one characteristic as satisfactory for our purpose. The object of Philosophy is in all ages the same—Reality as a whole; but this object may be approached from various sides and treated with more or less comprehensiveness; and the Greek philosophers differ in this respect so greatly among themselves, that we cannot say wherein consists their common difference from others. In like manner, the form and method of scientific procedure have so often altered both in Greek and other philosophies, that it seems hardly |130| possible to borrow any characteristic distinction from thence. I cannot, at any rate, agree with Fries 1 in his assertion that ancient Philosophy proceeds epagogically, and modern epistematically; that the one advances from facts to abstractions, from the particular to the universal, the other from the universal, from principles, to the particular. For among the ancient philosophers, we find the pre-Socratics employing almost exclusively a dogmatic, constructive method; and the same may be said of the Stoics, Epicureans, and, more especially, of the Neo-Platonists. Even Plato and Aristotle so little confine themselves to mere induction that they make science, in the strict sense of the word, begin with the derivation of the conditioned from first principles. On the other hand, among the moderns, the whole of the large and influential empirical school declares the epagogic method alone to be legitimate; while most of the other schools unite induction with construction. This distinction, therefore, cannot be carried out. Nor can we assent to the observation of Schleiermacher, 2 that the intimate relation persistently maintained between poetry and philosophy is characteristic of Hellenic, as compared with Indian Philosophy, where the two elements are so blended as to be indistinguishable from each other, and with the Philosophy of northern nations, where they never entirely coincide; and that as soon as the mythologic form loses itself, with Aristotle, the higher character of Greek science is likewise lost. The last assertion is indeed untrue, for it was Aristotle who conceived the problem of science most clearly and definitely;

1 Geschichte der Phil. i. 49 sqq.
2 Ibid. p. 18.

|131| and of the other philosophers, not a few were quite independent of the mythological tradition—for example, the Ionian physicists, the Eleatics, Atomists, and Sophists, Socrates and the Socratic Schools, Epicurus and his successors, the New Academy, and the Sceptics; others, with the freedom of a Plato, made use of mythology merely as an artistic ornament, or sought, like the Stoics and Plotinus, to support it by a philosophic interpretation, without allowing their philosophic system to be conditioned by it. On the other hand, Christian Philosophy was always dependent on positive religion. In the Middle Ages, this dependence was far greater than the dependence of Philosophy upon religion in Greece, and in modern times it has certainly been no less great. It may be urged that the Christian religion has a different origin and a different content; but this is a secondary consideration in regard to the general attitude of Philosophy to Religion. In both cases, unscientific notions are presupposed by thought without any previous demonstration of their truth. But,in fact, no such decisive contrast in scientific procedure is anywhere discoverable as would justify us in ascribing one definite method, universally and exclusively, to Greek, and another to modern Philosophy. As little do the results on each side bear out such a distinction. We find among the Greeks, Hylozoistic and Atomistic systems, and these are also to be found among the moderns; in Plato and Aristotle we see a dualistic idealism opposed to materialism, and it is this view of the world which has become predominant in Christendom; we see the |132| sensualism of the Stoics and Epicureans reproduced in English and French empiricism; and the scepticism of the New Academy in Hume; the pantheism of the Eleatics and Stoics may be compared with the doctrine of Spinoza; the Neo-Platonic spiritualism with Christian mysticism and Schelling’s theory of identity; in many respects also with the idealism of Leibniz: even in Kant and Jacobi, in Fichte and Hegel, many analogies with Greek doctrines can be shown; and in the ethics of the Christian period there are few propositions which have not parallels in the sphere of Greek Philosophy. Supposing, however, that in all cases parallels were not forthcoming, still the features peculiar on the one hand to Greek, and on the other to modern Philosophy, could only be regarded as generally distinctive of each, if they existed in all the Greek systems, and were absent from all the modern. And of how many characteristics could this be asserted? Here again, therefore, we have failed to discover any true mark of distinction.
  Nevertheless, an unmistakable family likeness binds together the remotest branches of Greek science. But as the countenances of men and women, old people and children, often resemble one another, though their individual features are not alike, so is it with the spiritual affinity of phenomena that are connected historically. It is not this or that particular characteristic which is the same; the similarity lies in the expression of the whole, in the formation of corresponding parts after the same model, and their combination in an analogous relation; or if this is no longer the case, in our being able to connect the later phase with the earlier, |133| as its natural consequence, according to the law of a continuous development. Thus the aspect of Greek Philosophy altered considerably in the lapse of years; yet the features which subsequently showed themselves were already present in its earliest shape; and however strange its appearance in the last centuries of its historical existence, closer observation will show that the original forms are even then discernible, although time-worn and decomposed. We must not, indeed, expect to find any particular quality unaltered throughout its whole course, or equally present in each of the systems; the general character of Greek Philosophy will have been rightly determined if we succeed in indicating the primitive type, in reference to which the different systems, in their various declensions from it, are intelligible.
  If, for this purpose, we compare Greek Philosophy with the corresponding productions of other nations, what first strikes us is its marked difference from the more ancient Oriental speculation. That speculation, the concern almost solely of the priests, had wholly developed itself from religion, on which its direction and content constantly depended; it never, therefore, attained a strictly scientific form and method, but remained partly in the shape of an external, grammatical, and logical schematism, partly in that of aphoristic prescripts and reflections, and partly in that of imaginative and poetical description. The Greeks were the first who gained sufficient freedom of thought to seek for the truth respecting the nature of things, not in religious tradition, but in the things themselves; among them first a strictly scientific method, a knowledge that follows |134| no laws except its own, became possible. This ormal fcharacter at once completely distinguishes Greek Philosophy from the systems and researches of the Orientals; and it is scarcely necessary to speak of the material opposition presented by the two methods of conceiving the world. The Oriental, in regard to nature, is not free, and has consequently been able neither to explain phenomena logically from their natural causes, nor to attain liberty in civil life, nor purely human culture. The Greek, on the contrary, by virtue of his liberty, can perceive in nature a reguiar order, and in human life can strive to produce a morality at once free and beautiful.
  The same characteristics distinguish Greek Philosophy from that of the Christians and Mohammedans in the Middle Ages. Here, again, we find no free enquiry: science is fettered by a double authority—by the theological authority of positive religion, and by the philosophical authority of ancient authors who had been the instructors of the Arabians and of the Christian nations. This dependence upon authority would of itself have sufficed to cause a development of thought quite different from that of the Greeks, even had the dogmatic content of Christianity and Mohammedanism borne greater resemblance to the Hellenic doctrines than was the case. But what a gulf is there between Greek and Christian in the sense of the early and medieval Church! While the Greek seeks the Divine primarily in nature, for the Christian, nature loses all worth and all right to existence in the thought of the omnipotence and infinity of the Creator; and nature cannot even be regarded as the pure revelation |135| of this omnipotence, for it is distorted and ruined by sin. While the Greek, relying on his reason, seeks to know the laws of the universe, the Christian flees from the errors of reason, which to him is carnal, and darkened by sin, to a revelation the ways and mysteries of which he thinks himself all the more bound to reverence, the more they clash with reason and the natural course of things. While the Greek endeavours to attain in human life the fair harmony of spirit and nature, which is the distinctive characteristic of Hellenic morality; the ideal of the Christian lies in an asceticism which breaks off all alliance between reason and sense: instead of heroes, fighting and enjoying like men, he has saints displaying monkish apathy; instead of Gods full of sensual desires, sexless angels; instead of a Zeus who authorises and indulges in all earthly delights—a God who becomes man, in order by his death openly and practically to condemn them. So deeply rooted an opposition between the two theories of the world necessitated an equal contrast in the tendencies of Philosophy: the Philosophy of the Christian Middle Ages of course turned away from the world and human life, as that of the Greeks inclined to them. It was, therefore, quite logical and natural that the one Philosophy should neglect the investigations of nature which the other had commenced; that the one should work for heaven, the other for earth; the one for the Church, the other for the State; that the science of the Middle Ages should lead to faith in a divine revelation, and to the sanctity of the ascetic as its end, and Greek science to the understanding of nature’slaws, and to the |136| virtue which consists in the conformity of human life to nature; that, in short, there should exist between the two Philosophies a radical opposition coming to light even when they apparently harmonise, and giving an essentially different meaning to the very words of the ancients in the mouths of their Christian successors. Even the Mohammedan view of the world is in one respect nearer to the Greek than the Christian is, for in the moral sphere it does not assume so hostile an attitude to man’s sensuous life. The Mohammedan philosophers of the Middle Ages bestowed also greater attention on natural research, and restricted themselves less exclusively to theological and theologico-metaphysical questions than the Christians. But the Mohammedan nations were wanting in that rare genius for the intellectual treatment and moral ennobling of natural instincts by which the Greek was so favourably distinguished from the Oriental, who was careless of form, and carried both self-indulgence and self-mortification to excess. The abstract monotheism, too, of the Koran is even more directly opposed to the deified world of the Greeks than the Christian doctrine is. The Mohammedan Philosophy, therefore, in regard to its general tendency, must, like the Christian, be pronounced essentially different from the Greek. In it we miss the free outlook upon the actual world, and therewith the activity and independence of thought, so natural to the Greeks; and though it starts from a zealous desire for the knowledge of nature, the theological presuppositions of its dogmatic creed, and the magical conceptions of the latest antiquity, are always in the way. Lastly, the |137| ultimate aim which it proposes to itself consists far more in the consummation of the religious life and the attainment of mystic abstraction and supernatural illumination, than in the clear and scientific understanding of the world and its phenomena.
  On these points, however, there can be little controversy. It is a far more difficult task to determine the specific character of Greek Philosophy as distinguished from the modern. For modern Philosophy itself arose essentially under Greek influence, and by means of a partial return to Greek intuitions; it is, therefore, in its whole spirit, far more allied to Hellenic Philosophy than the Philosophy of the Middle Ages, in spite of its dependence on Greek authorities, ever was. This similarity is heightened, and the difficulty of differentiating them increased, by the fact that the old Philosophy, in the course of its own development, approximated to the Christian conception of the world (with which it has been blended in modern science) and paved the way for that conception. The doctrines which were the preparation for Christianity are often very like Christian doctrine modified by classical studies; the original Greek doctrines resemble in many respects the modern doctrines which subsequently developed themselves under the influence of the ancients; so that it seems hardly possible to assign distinctive characteristics that are generally applicable. But there appears at the outset this fundamental difference between the two Philosophies—-viz. that the one is the earlier, the other the later; the one is original, the other derived. Greek Philosophy sprang from the soil of Greek national life and of the |138| Greek view of the world; even when it passes beyond the original limits of the Hellenic sphere and prepares the transition from the ancient period to the Christian, its essential content can only be understood in relation to the development of the Greek spirit. Even at that period we feel that it is the abiding influence of classic ideas which hinders it from really adopting the later standpoint. Conversely, with the modern philosophers, even when at first sight they seem wholly to return to the ancient modes of thought, we can always, on closer inspection, detect motives and conceptions foreign to the ancients. The only question is, therefore, where these motives and conceptions are ultimately to be sought?
  All human culture results from the reciprocal action of the inward and the outward, of spontaneity and receptivity, of mind and nature; its direction is, therefore, principally determined by the relation that exists between these two sides, which relation, as we have already seen, was always more harmonious in the Greek race than in any other, by reason of its peculiar character and historical conditions. The distinctive peculiarity of the Greeks lies, indeed, in this unbroken unity of the spiritual and the natural, which is at once the prerogative and the confining barrier of this classical nation, Not that spirit and nature were as yet wholly undiscriminated. On the contrary, the great superiority of Greek civilisation, as compared with earlier or contemporary civilisations, essentially depends on this fact—that in the light of the Hellenic consciousness there disappears, not only the irrational disorder of primitive |139| and natural life, but also that fantastic confusion and interminglement of the ethical with the physical, which we almost everywhere meet with in the East. The Greek attains his independence of the powers of nature by the free exercise of his mental and moral activity; transcending merely natural ends, he regards the sensible as an instrument and symbol of the spiritual. Thus the two spheres are to him separate; and as the ancient gods of nature were overpowered by the Olympian deities, so his own natural state gives place to the higher state of a moral culture that is free, human, and beautiful. But this discrimination of spirit and nature does not as yet involve the theory of radical opposition and contradiction—the systematic breach between them which was preparing in the last centuries of the ancient world, and has been so fully accomplished in the Christian world. The spirit is always regarded as the higher element in comparison with nature; man looks upon his free moral activity as the essential aim and content of his existence; he is not satisfied to enjoy in a sensuous manner, or to work in servile dependence on the will of another; what he does he will do freely, for himself; the happiness which he strives for he will attain by the use and development of his bodily and mental powers, by a vigorous social life, by doing his share of work for the whole, by the respect of his fellow citizens; and on this personal capability and freedom is founded that proud self-confidence which raises the Hellene so far above all the barbarians. The reason that Greek life has not only a more beautiful form, but also a higher content than that of any other ancient |140| race, is because no other was able to rise with such freedom above mere nature, or with such idealism to make sensible existence simply the sustainer of spiritual. If then this unity of spirit with nature were understood as a unity without difference, the expression would ill serve to characterise it. Rightly apprehended, on the other hand, it correctly expresses the distinction of the Greek world from the Christian Middle Ages and from modern times. The Greek rises above the world of outward existence and absolute dependence on the forces of nature, but he does not on that account hold nature to be either impure or not divine. On the contrary, he sees in it the direct manifestation of higher powers; his very gods are not merely moral beings, they are at the same time, and originally, powers of nature: they have the form of natural existence, they constitute a plurality of beings, created, and like unto men, restricted in their power of action, having the universal force of nature as eternal chaos before them, and as pitiless fate above them; far from denying himself and his nature for the sake of the gods, the Greek knows no better way of honouring them than by the cheerful enjoyment of life, and the worthy exercise of the talents he has acquired in the development of his natural powers of body and mind. Accordingly moral life also is throughout founded upon natural temperament and circumstances. From the standpoint of ancient Greece it is impossible that man should consider his nature corrupt, and himself, as originally constituted, sinful. There is, consequently, no demand that he should renounce his natural inclinations, repress his sensuality, |141| and be radically changed by a moral new birth; no demand even for that struggle against sensuality which our moral law is accustomed to prescribe even when it is no longer based upon positive Christianity. On the contrary, the natural powers as such are assumed to be good, and the natural inclinations as such to be legitimate; morality consists, according to the truly Greek conception of Aristotle, in guiding these powers to the right end, and maintaining these inclinations in right measure and balance: virtue is nothing more than the intelligent and energetic development of natural endowments, and the highest law of morals is to follow the course of nature freely and rationally. This standpoint is not a result of reflection, it is not attained by a struggle with the opposite demand for the renunciation of nature, as is the case with the moderns when they profess the same principles; it is, therefore, quite untrammelled by doubt and uncertainty. To the Greek it appears as natural and necessary that he should allow sensuality its rights as that he should control it by the exercise of will and reflection; he can regard the matter in no other light, and he therefore pursues his course with full security, honestly feeling that he is justified in so doing. But among the natural presuppositions of free activity must also be reckoned the social relations in which each individual is placed by his birth. The Greek allows these relations an amount of influence over his morality, to which in modern times we are not accustomed. The tradition of his people is to him the highest moral authority, life in and for the state the highest duty, far outweighing all others; beyond the |142| limits of the national and political community, moral obligation is but imperfectly recognised; the validity of a free vocation determined by personal conviction, the idea of the rights and duties of man in the wider sense, were not generally acknowledged until the transitional period which coincides with the dissolution of the ancient Greek standpoint. How far the classical epoch and view of human life are in this respect removed from ours, appears in the constant confusion of morals with politics, in the inferior position of women, especially among the Ionian races, in the conception of marriage and sexual relations, but above all in the abrupt opposition between Greeks and barbarians, and the slavery which was connected with it, and was so indispensable an institution in ancient states. These shadow-sides of Greek life must not be overlooked. In one respect, however, things were easier for the Greek than for us. His range of vision, it is true, was more limited, his relations were narrower, his moral principles were less pure and strict and universal than ours; but, perhaps, on that very account, his life was the more fitted to form complete, harmoniously cultured men and classical characters.1
  The classic form of Greek art was also essentially conditioned by the mental character we have been describing. The classic ideal, as Vischer 2 well remarks, is the ideal of a people that is moral without any break

1 Cf. Hegel’s Phil. der Gesch. p. 291 sq. 297 sqq. 305 sqq.; Aesthetik, ii. 56 sqq. 73 sqq. 100 sqq.; Gesch. der Phil. i. 170 sq.; Phil. der Rel. ii. 99 sqq.; Braniss, Gesch. der Phil. s. Kant, i. 79 sqq.; and especially the thoughtful and forcible remarks of Vischer in his Aesthetik, ii. 237 sqq. 446 sqq.
2 Aesthetik ii. 459.

|143| with nature: there is consequently in the spiritual content of its ideal, and therefore in the expression of that ideal, no surplus which cannot be unrestrainedly poured forth in the form as a whole. The spiritual is not apprehended as opposed to the sensible phenomenon, but in and with it; consequently, the spiritual attains to artistic representation only so far as it is capable of direct expression in the sensible form. A Greek work of art bears the character of simple, satisfied beauty, of plastic calm; the idea realises itself in the phenomenon, as the soul in the body with which it clothes itself by virtue of its creating force; there is as yet no spiritual content which resists this plastic treatment, and which could not find its adequate and direct representation in the sensible form. Greek art consequently only attained to perfection where, from the nature of the subject, no task was proposed to it which could not be completely, accomplished in the way we have just described. In plastic art, in the epic, in classic architecture, the Greeks have remained unrivalled models for all time; on the other hand, in music they seem to have been far behind the moderns; because this art, more than any other, by its very nature leads us back from the fugitive external elements of tone to the inner region of feeling and of subjective mood. For the same reasons their painting seems only to have been comparable with that of the moderns in respect of drawing. Even Greek lyric poetry, great and perfect as it is of its kind, differs no less from the more emotional and subjective modern lyric poetry than the metrical verse of the ancients from the rhymed verse of the moderns; and if, on the one |144| hand, no later poet could have written a Sophoclean drama, on the other, the ancient tragedies of fate as compared with modern tragedies since Shakespeare, fail in the natural evolution of events from the characters, from the temperament of the dramatis personae; and thus, like lyric poetry, instead of fully developing its own particular form of art, tragedy has still in a certain sense the epic type. In all these traits one and the same character is manifested: Greek art is distinguished from modern by its pure objectivity; the artist in his creation does not remain within himself, in the inner region of his thoughts and feelings, and his work when accomplished suggests nothing internal which it has not fully expressed. The form is as yet absolutely filled with the content; the content in its whole compass attains determinate existence in the form; spirit is still in undisturbed union with nature, the idea is not yet separated from the phenomenon.
  We must expect to find the same character in Greek Philosophy, since it is the spirit of the Hellenic people that created that Philosophy, and the Hellenic view of the world that there receives its scientific expression. This character first shows itself in a trait which indeed is not easy to define in an exhaustive and accurate manner, but which must strike every student in the writings and fragments of ancient Philosophy: in the whole mode of treatment, the whole attitude which the author adopts in reference to his subject. That freedom and simplicity, which Hegel praises (Gesch. der Phil. i. 124.) in the ancient philosophers, that plastic repose with which a Parmenides, a |145| Plato, an Aristotle handle the most difficult questions, is the same in the sphere of scientific thought as that which in the sphere of art we call the classic style. The philosopher does not in the first place reflect upon himself and his personal condition: he has not to deal with a number of preliminary presuppositions and make abstraction of his own thoughts and interests that he may attain to a purely philosophic mood; he is in such a mood from the very beginning. In the treatment, therefore, of scientific questions he does not allow himself to be disturbed by other opinions, nor by his own wishes; he goes straight to the matter in hand, desiring to absorb himself in it, to give free scope to its working within him; he is at peace as to the results of his thought, because ready to accept whatever approves itself to him as true and real. 1 This objectivity was no doubt far more easily attainable for Greek Philosophy than for our own; thought, having then before it neither a previous scientific development nor a fixed religious system, could grapple with scientific problems from their very commencement with complete freedom. Such objectivity, furthermore, constitutes not only the strength, but also the weakness of this Philosophy; for it is essentially conditional on man’s having not yet become mistrustful of his thought, on his being but partially

1Take, for example, the well-known utterances of Protagoras: ‘Man is the measure of all things, of Being how it is, of non-Being how it is not.’ ‘Of the gods I have nothing to say; neither that they are, nor that they are not; for there is much that hinders me,—the obscurity of the matter and the shortness of human life.’ These propositions were in the highest degree offensive at that period; there was in them a demand for a complete revolution of all hitherto received ideas. Yet how statuesque is the style! With what classical calmness are they enunciated!

|146| conscious of the subjective activity through which his presentations are formed, and therefore of the share which this activity has in their content; in a word, on. his not having arrived at self-criticism. The difference, however, between ancient Philosophy and modern is here strikingly and unquestionably displayed.
  This characteristic suggests further points for reflection. So simple a relation to its object was only possible to Greek thought, because, as compared with modern thought, it started from a much more incomplete experience, a more limited knowledge of nature, a less active development of inner life. The greater the mass of facts with which we are acquainted, the more complicated are the problems which have to be solved in attempting their scientific explanation. The more accurately, on the one hand, we have come to investigate external events in their specific character; the more, on the other, has our inner eye become keen for introspection, through the intensifying of religious and moral life; the more our historical knowledge of human conditions widens, the less possible is it to apply the analogies of human spiritual life to natural phenomena, and the analogies of the external world to the phenomena of consciousness; to rest satisfied with imperfect explanations abstracted from limited and one-sided experience, or to presuppose the truth of our conceptions without accurate enquiry. It naturally followed, therefore, that the problems with which all Philosophy is concerned should in modern times partially change their scope and significance. Modern Philosophy begins with doubt; in Bacon, with doubt of the previous science; |147| in Descartes, with doubt of the truth of our conceptions generally—absolute doubt. Having this starting-point, it is forced from the outset to keep steadily in view the question of the possibility and conditions of knowledge, and for the answering of that question it institutes all those enquiries into the origin of our conceptions, which at each new turn that they have taken have gained in profundity, in importance, and in extent. These enquiries were at first remote from Greek science, which, firmly believing in the veracity of thought, applied itself directly to the search for the Real. But even after that faith had been shaken by Sophistic, and the necessity of a methodical enquiry had been asserted by Socrates, this enquiry is still far from being the accurate analysis of the intellect undertaken by modern Philosophy since Locke and Hume. Aristotle himself, though he describes how conceptions result from experience, investigates very incompletely the conditions on which the correctness of our conceptions depends; and the necessity of a discrimination between their objective and subjective constituents never seems to occur to him. Even the scepticism posterior to Aristotle gave no impulse to any more fundamental and theoretic investigations. The empiricism of the Stoics and the sensualism of the Epicureans were based as little as the neo-Platonic and neo-Pythagorean speculation on enquiries tending to supply the lacune in the Aristotelian theory of knowledge. The criticism of the faculty of cognition, which has attained so great an importance for modern Philosophy, in ancient Philosophy was proportionally undeveloped. Where, however, a clear |148| recognition is wanting of the conditions under which scientific enquiry must be undertaken, there science must necessarily itself be wanting in that certainty of procedure which due regard to those conditions alone can give. Thus we find that the Greek philosophers, even the greatest and most careful observers among them, have all more or less the failing with which philosophers have been so often reproached. They are apt to cease their enquiries prematurely, and to found general concepts and principles upon imperfect or insufficiently proved experiences, which are then treated as indisputable truths and made the basis of farther inferences; to display, in short, that dialectical exclusiveness which is the result of employing certain presentations universally assumed, established by language, and recommending themselves by their apparent accordance with nature, without further enquiring into their origin and legitimacy, or keeping in view while so employing them their real foundation in fact. Modern Philosophy has itself been sufficiently faulty in this respect; it is humiliating to compare the speculative rashness of many a later philosopher with the circumspection displayed by Aristotle in testing the theories of others, and in examining the various points of view that arise out of the questions he is discussing. But in the general course of modern science the demand for a strict and exact method has more and more made itself felt, and even where the philosophers themselves have not adequately responded to this demand, the other sciences have afforded them a far greater mass of facts and laws empirically established; and further, these |149| facts have been much more carefully sifted and tested, and these laws much more accurately determined, than was possible at the period of ancient Philosophy. This higher development of the experimental sciences, which distinguishes modern times from antiquity, is closely connected with that critical method in which Greek Philosophy and Greek science generally were so greatly deficient.
  The distinction of subjective and objective in our conceptions is nearly allied to the distinction of the intellectual and corporeal, of phenomena within us and phenomena without. This distinction, like the other, is generally wanting in clearness and precision with the ancient philosophers. Anaxagoras, it is true, represents spirit as opposed to the material world; and in the Platonic School this opposition is developed to its fullest extent. Nevertheless, in Greek Philosophy, the two spheres are constantly overlapping one another. On the one hand, natural phenomena, which theology had considered to be immediately derived from beings akin to men, continued to be explained by analogies derived from human life. On such an analogy were based not only the Hylozoism of many ancient physicists, and that belief in the animate nature of the world which we find in Plato, the Stoics and neo-Platonists, but also the teleology which, in most of the philosophic schools since Socrates, has interfered with, and not unfrequently overpowered, the physical explanation of nature. On the other hand, the true essence of psychic phenomena was also not determined with accuracy; and if only a certain number of the ancient philosophers |150| contented themselves with such simple materialistic explanations as were set up by many of the pre-Socratic physicists, after them by the Stoics and Epicureans, and also by individual Peripatetics; yet even in the spiritualistic psychology of a Plato, an Aristotle, or a Plotinus we are surprised to find that the difference between conscious and unconscious forces is almost ignored, and that hardly any attempt is made to conceive the different sides of human nature in their personal unity. Hence it was easy to these philosophers to explain the soul as compounded of distinct and radically heterogeneous elements; and hence, too, in their conceptions relating to God, the world-soul, the spirits of the stars, and similar subjects, the question of the personality of these beings is generally so little considered. It was in the Christian period that the feeling of the validity and importance of human personality first attained its complete development; and so it is in modern science that we first find on this point conceptions sufficiently precise to render the confusion of personal and impersonal characteristics so frequently met with in ancient philosophy henceforward impossible.
  The difference between Greek ethics and our own has been already touched upon; and it need scarcely be said that all our previous remarks on this subject equally apply to philosophic ethics. Much as Philosophy itself contributed to transform the old Greek conception of moral life into a stricter, more abstract, more general morality, the characteristic features of the ancient view were in Philosophy only gradually effaced, and were always more or less present down to the latest period of |151| antiquity. Not until after Aristotle was the close union of morals with politics, so inherent in the Greeks, dissolved; and down to the time of Plotinus, we can still clearly recognise the esthetic treatment of ethics, which was also essentially distinctive of the Hellenic spirit.
  The spiritual life of the Greeks in the thousand years that elapsed between the rise and close of their Philosophy certainly underwent great and important changes, and Philosophy was itself one of the most efficient causes by which these changes were brought about. As Greek Philosophy represents generally the character of the Greek spirit, it must also reflect the transformations which in course of time that spirit has undergone; and the more so, because the greater number and the most influential of the philosophic systems belong to the period when the older form of Greek spiritual life was gradually melting away; when the human mind was increasingly withdrawing itself from the outer world, to be concentrated with exclusive energy upon itself—and when the transition from the classic to the Christian and modern world was in part preparing, and in part already accomplished. For this reason, the characteristics which appeared in the philosophy of the classical period cannot be unconditionally ascribed to the whole of Greek Philosophy; yet the early character of that Philosophy essentially influenced its entire subsequent course. We see, indeed, in the whole of its development, the original unity of spirit with nature gradually disappearing; but as long as we continue on Hellenic ground, we never find the abrupt separation |152| between them, which was the starting-point of modern science.
  In the commencement of Greek Philosophy, it is before all things the external world which claims attention. The question arises as to its causes; and the answer is attempted without any preliminary enquiry into the human faculty of cognition; the reasons of phenomena are sought in what is known to us through the external perception, or is at any rate analogous to it. But, on the other hand, just because as yet no exact discrimination is made between the external world and the world of consciousness, qualities are ascribed to corporeal forms and substances, and effects are expected from them, which could only in truth belong to spiritual beings. Such are the characteristics of Greek Philosophy up to the time of Anaxagoras. During this period, philosophic interest chiefly confines itself to the consideration of nature, and to conjectures respecting the reasons of natural phenomena; the facts of consciousness are not yet recognised or investigated as special phenomena.
  This Philosophy of nature was opposed by Sophistic, which denied man’s capacity for the cognition of things, and directed his attention instead to his own practical aims. But with the advent of Socrates, Philosophy again inclined towards a search for the Real, though at first this was not formulated into a system. The lesser Socratic schools, indeed, contented themselves with the application of knowledge to some one side of man’s spiritual life, but Philosophy as a whole, far from maintaining this subjective view of the Socratic |153| principle, culminated in the vast and comprehensive systems of Plato and Aristotle, the greatest achievements of Greek science. These systems approximate much more closely to modern Philosophy, on which they have had an important influence, than the pre-Socratic physics. Nature is with them neither the sole nor the principal object of enquiry; side by side with physics, metaphysics has a higher, and ethics an equal prominence, and the whole is placed on a firmer basis by the enquiries concerning the origin of knowledge and the conditions of scientific method. Moreover, the unsensuous form is distinguished from the sensible phenomenon, as the essential from the accidental, the eternal from the transitory; only in the cognition of this unsensuous essence—only in pure thought—is the highest and purest knowledge to be sought. Even in the explanation of nature, preference is given to the investigation of forms and aims as compared with the knowledge of physical causes; in man, the higher part of his nature in its essence and origin is discriminated from the sensual part; and the highest problem for mankind is accordingly found exclusively in the development of his spiritual life, and above all of his knowledge. Although, however, the Platonic and Aristotelian systems show themselves thus akin in many respects to modern systems, yet the peculiar stamp of the Greek spirit is unmistakably impressed on them both. Plato is an idealist, but his idealism is not the modern subjective idealism: he does not hold with Fichte, that the objective world is a mere phenomenon of consciousness; he does not, with Leibniz, place |154| percipient essences at the origin of all things; the ideas themselves are not derived by him from thought, either human or divine, but thought is derived from participation in the ideas. In the ideas the universal essence of things is reduced to plastic forms, which are the object of an intellectual intuition, in the same way that things are the object of the sensuous intuition. Even the Platonic theory of knowledge has not the character of the corresponding enquiries of the moderns. With them, the main point is the analysis of the subjective activity of cognition; their attention is primarily directed to the development of knowledge in man according to its psychological course and its conditions. Plato, on the other hand, keeps almost exclusively to the objective nature of our presentations; he enquires far less about the manner in which intuitions and conceptions arise in us, than about the value attaching to them in themselves; the theory of knowledge is therefore with him directly connected with metaphysics: the enquiry as to the truth of the presentation or conception coincides with that respecting the reality of the sensible phenomenon and of the Idea. Plato, moreover, however low may be his estimation of the phenomenal world in comparison with the idea, is far removed from the prosaic and mechanical modern view of nature; the world is to him the visible god, the stars are living, happy beings, and his whole explanation of nature is dominated by the teleology which plays so important a part in Greek Philosophy posterior to Socrates. Though in his ethics he passes beyond the ancient Greek standpoint, by the demand for a philosophic |155| virtue founded on science, and prepares the way for Christian morality by flight from the world of sense; yet in the doctrine of Eros he maintains the esthetic, and in the institutions of his Republic the political character of Greek morality in the most decided manner; and despite his moral idealism, his ethics do not disclaim that inborn Hellenic sense of naturalness, proportion, and harmony which expresses itself in his successors by the principle of living according to nature, and the theory of goods and of virtue founded on that principle. The Greek type, however, comes out most clearly in Plato’s mode of apprehending the whole problem of Philosophy. In his inability to separate science from morality and religion, in his conception of Philosophy as the complete and universal culture of mind and character, we clearly recognise the standpoint of the Greeks, who made far less distinction between the different spheres of life and culture than the moderns, because with them the fundamental opposition of spiritual and bodily perfection was much less developed and insisted on. Eyen in Aristotle this standpoint is clearly marked, although, in comparison with that of Plato, his system looks modern in respect of its purely scientific form, its rigorous conciseness, and its broad empirical basis. He, too, regards the conceptions in which thought sums up the qualities of things as objective forms antecedent to our thought; not indeed distinct from individual things as to their existence, but as to their essential nature, independent; and in determining the manner in which these forms are represented in things, he is guided throughout by the |156| analogy of artistic creation. Although, therefore, he bestows much greater attention on physical phenomena and their causes than Plato does, his whole theory of the world bears essentially the same teleologic esthetic character as Plato’s. He removes the Divine spirit from all living contact with the world, but in his conception of nature as a uniform power working with full purpose and activity to an end, the poetic liveliness of the old Greek intuition of nature is apparent; and when he attributes to matter as such a desire for form, and deduces from that desire all motion and life in the corporeal world, we are reminded of the Hylozoism which was so closely related to the view of nature we are considering. His notions about the sky and the heavenly bodies which he shares with Plato and most of the ancients, are also entirely Greek. His ethics altogether belong to the sphere of Hellenic morality. Sensual instincts are recognised by him as a basis for moral action, virtue is the fulfillment of natural activities. The sphere of ethics is distinguished from that of politics, but the union between them is still very close. In politics itself we find all the distinctive features of the Hellenic theory of the state, with its advantages and imperfections: on the one hand, the doctrine of man’s natural vocation for political community, of the moral object of the state, of the value of a free constitution; on the other hand, the justification of slavery and contempt for manual labour. Thus, while spirit is still closely united to its natural basis, nature is directly related to spiritual life. In Plato and Aristotle we see neither the abstract spiritualism, nor the purely physical |157| explanation of nature of modern science; neither the strictness and universality of our moral consciousness, nor the acknowledgment of material interest which so often clashes with it. The oppositions between which human life and thought move are less developed, their relation is more genial and harmonious, their adjustment easier, though certainly more superficial, than in the modern theory of the world, originating as it does from far more comprehensive experiences, more difficult struggles, and more complex conditions.
  Not until after the time of Aristotle does the Greek spirit begin to be so greatly estranged from nature that the classical view of the world disappears, and the way is being prepared for the Christian. How greatly this change in its consequences affected also the aspect of Philosophy, will hereafter be shown. In this period of transition, however, it is all the more striking to observe that the old Greek standpoint was still sufficiently influential to divide the Philosophy of that time very clearly from ours. Stoicism no longer carries on any independent investigation of nature; it withdraws itself entirely from objective enquiry and substitutes the interest of moral subjectivity. Yet it continues to look upon nature as the thing which is highest and most divine; it defends the old religion, inasmuch as it was a worship of the powers of nature; subjection to natural laws, life according to nature, is its watchword; natural truths (φυσικαὶ ἔννοιαι) are its supreme authority; and though, in this return to what is primitive and original, it concedes only a conditional value to civil institutions, yet it regards the mutual interdependence of all men, |158| the extension of political community to the whole race, as an immediate requirement of human nature, in the same manner as the earlier Greeks regarded political life. While in Stoicism man breaks with the outer world in order to fortify himself in the energy of his inner life against external influences, he yet at the same time entirely rests upon the order of the universe, spirit feels still too much bound to nature to know that it is in its self-consciousness independent of nature. But nature, consequently, appears as if filled with spirit, and in this direction Stoicism goes so far that the distinction between spiritual and corporeal, which Plato and Aristotle so clearly recognised, again disappears, matter becomes directly animate, spirit is represented as a material breath, or as an organising fire; and, on the other hand, all human aims and thoughts are transferred to nature by the most external teleology possible.
  In Epicureanism the specific character of the Greek genius is otherwise manifested. Hylozoism and teleology are now abandoned for an entirely mechanical explanation of nature; the vindication of popular religion is exchanged for an enlightened opposition to it, and the individual seeks his happiness, not in submission to the law of the whole, but in the undisturbed security of his individual life. But that which is according to nature is the highest, to the Epicurean as to the Stoic; and if in theory he degrades his external nature into a spiritless mechanism, so much the more does he endeavour to establish in human life that beautiful harmony of the egoistic and benevolent impulses, of sensuous enjoyment and spiritual activity, |159| which made the garden of Epicurus the abode of Attic refinement and pleasant social intercourse. This form of culture is as yet without the polemical asperities which are inseparable from modern repetitions of it, on account of the contrast it presents to the strictness of Christian ethics; the justification of the sensual element appears as a natural presupposition which does not require any preliminary or particular apology. However much then Epicureanism may remind us of certain modern opinions, the difference between that which is original and of natural growth, and that which is derived and the result of reflection, is unmistakable on closer examination. The same may be said of the scepticism of this period as compared with that of modern times. Modern scepticism has always something unsatisfied about it, an inner uncertainty, a secret wish to believe that which it is trying to disprove. Ancient scepticism displays no such half-heartedness, and knows nothing of the hypochondriacal unrest which Hume himself 1 so vividly describes; it regards ignorance not as a misfortune, but as a natural necessity, in the recognition of which man becomes calm. Even while despairing of knowledge it maintains the attitude of compliance with the actual order of things, and from this very source evolves the ἀταραξία which is almost impossible to modern scepticism, governed as it is bysubjective interests. 2

1 On Human Nature, book i. part iv. section 1, 509 sqq.; Jacobi’s translation.
2 Cf. Hegel’s remarks on the subject. Gesch. der Phil. i. 124 sq.

  Even neo-Platonism, far removed as it is from the |160| ancient Greek spirit, and decidedly as it approaches that of the Middle Ages, has its centre of gravity still in the antique world. This is evident, not only from its close relation to the heathen religions, the last apologist for which it would certainly not have become had no essential and internal affinity existed between them, but also in its philosophic doctrines. Its abstract spiritualism contrasts, Indeed, strongly with the naturalism of the ancients; but we have only to compare its conception of nature with that of contemporary Christian writers, we need only hear how warmly Plotinus defends the majesty of nature against the contempt of the Gnostics, how keenly Proclus and Simplicius dispute the Christian doctrine of the creation, in order to see in it an offshoot of the Greek spirit. Matter itself is brought nearer to mind by the neo-Platonists than by the majority of modern philosophers, who see in the two principles essentially separate substances; for the neo-Platonists opposed the theory of a self-dependent matter, and explained the corporeal as the result of the gradual degradation of the spiritual essence. They thus declared the opposition of the two principles to be not original and absolute, but derived and merely quantitative. Again, though the neo-Platonic metaphysics, especially in their later form, must appear to us very abstruse, their origin was similar to that of Plato’s theory of Ideas; for the properties and causes of things are here regarded as absolute essential natures, over and above the world and man, as objects of an intellectual intuition. Moreover, these essences bear to each other a definite relation of higher, lower, and |161| co-ordinate, and thus appear as the metaphysical counterpart of the mythical gods, whom neo-Platonic allegory itself recognised in them, recognising also in their progressive emanation from the primitive essence the analogue of those theogonies with which Greek speculation in the earliest times began.
  To sum up what we have been saying. In the Philosophy of the middle ages, spirit asserts itself as alien and opposed to nature: in modern Philosophy, it strives to regain unity with nature, without, however, losing the deep consciousness of the difference between the spiritual and the natural: in Greek Philosophy is represented that phase of scientific thought in which the discrimination and separation of the two elements are developed out of their original equipoise and harmonious co-existence, though this separation was never actually accomplished in the Hellenic period. While, therefore, in Greek, as in modern Philosophy, we find both the discrimination and the union of the spiritual and the natural, this is brought about in each case in a different manner and by a different connection. Greek Philosophy starts from that harmonious relation of spirit to nature in which the distinguishing characteristic of ancient culture generally consists; step by step, and half involuntarily, it sees itself compelled to discriminate them. Modern Philosophy, on the contrary, finds this separation already accomplished in the most effectual manner in the middle ages, and only succeeds by an effort in discovering the unity of the two sides. This difference of starting-point and of tendency |162| determines the whole character of these two great phenomena. Greek Philosophy finally results in a dualism, which it finds impossible to overcome scientifically; and even in its most flourishing period the development of this dualism can be traced. Sophisticism breaks with simple faith in the veracity of the senses and of thought. Socrates breaks with unreflecting obedience to existing custom. Plato opposes to the empirical world an ideal world, but is unable to find in this ideal world any explanation of the other; he can only explain matter as something non-existent, and can only subject human life to the idea by the arbitrary measures of his State. Even Aristotle keeps pure spirit entirely distinct from the world, and thinks that man’s reason is infused into him from without. In the lesser Socratic schools and the post-Aristotelian Philosophy this dualism is still more evident. But we have already seen that, in spite of this tendency, the original presupposition of Greek thought asserts itself in decisive traits; and we shall find that the true cause of its incapacity to reconcile these contradictions satisfactorily hes in its refusal to abandon that presupposition. The unity of spiritual and natural, which Greek thought demands and presupposes, is the direct unbroken unity of the classic theory of the world; when that is cancelled, there remains to it no possible way of filling up a chasm which, according to its own standpoint, cannot exist. The Hellenic character proper is not of course stamped with equal clearness on each of the Greek systems; in the later periods especially, of Greek |163| Philosophy it became gradually blended with foreign elements. Nevertheless, directly or indirectly, this character may plainly be recognised in all the systems; and Greek Philosophy, as a whole, may be said to move in the same direction as the general life of the people to which it belongs. |164|

Chapter IV. Principal Periods in the Development of Greek Philosophy

  We have divided Greek Philosophy into three periods, of which the second begins with Socrates and ends with Aristotle. The propriety of this division must now be more closely examined. The utility of such a course may seem indeed doubtful, since so eminent a historian as Ritter 1 is of opinion that history itself recognises no sections, and that therefore all division of periods is only a means of facilitating instruction, a setting up of resting places to take breath; and since even a disciple of the Hegelian school 2 declares that the History of Philosophy cannot be written in periods, as the links of History consist wholly of personalities and aggregates of individuals. This latter observation is so far true that it is impossible to draw a straight chronological line across a series of historical phenomena without separating what is really united, and linking together what is really distinct. For, in regard to chronology, the boundaries of successive developments overlap each other; and it is in this that the whole continuity and connection of historic as of natural development consists.

1 Geschichte der Philosophie, 2nd edition, Pref. p. viii.
2 Marbach, Geschichte der Philosophie, Pref. p. xiii.

|165| The new form has already appeared, and has begun to assert itself independently, while the old form is still in existence. The inference from this, however, is not that the division into periods is to be altogether discarded, but only that it must be based upon facts, and not merely upon chronology. Each period lasts as long as any given historical whole continues to follow one and the same direction in its development; when this ceases to be the case, a new period begins. How long the direction is to be regarded as the same must be decided, here and everywhere, according to the part in which lies the centre of gravity of the whole. When from a given whole, a new whole branches off, its beginnings are to be referred to the subsequent period in proportion as they break with the previous historical connection, and present themselves under a new and original form. If anyone supposes, however, that this grouping together of kindred phenomena is merely for the convenience of the historian or his reader, and has no concern with the matter itself, the discussions in our first chapter are amply sufficient to meet the objection. It surely cannot be considered unimportant, even for the purposes of convenience, where the divisions are made in a historical exposition; and, if this be conceded, it cannot be unimportant in regard to the matter itself. If one division gives us a clearer survey than another, the reason can only be that it presents a truer picture of the differences and relations of historical phenomena; the differences must, therefore, lie in the phenomena themselves, as well as in our subjective consideration of them. It is |166| undeniable, indeed, that not only different individuals, but also different periods, have each a different character, and that the development of any given whole, whether great or small, goes on for a time in a definite direction, and then changes this direction to strike out some other course. It is this unity and diversity of historical. character to which the periods have to conform; the periodic division must represent the internal relation of phenomena at the different epochs, and it is consequently as little dependent on the caprice of the historian as the distribution of rivers and mountains on that of the geographer, or the determination of natural kingdoms on that of the naturalist.
  What division then shall we adopt in regard to the history of Greek Philosophy? It is clear from our second chapter that the commencement of this history ought not to be placed earlier than Thales. He was the first, as far as we know, who, in speaking of the primitive causes of all things, abandoned mythical language;—though it is true that the old custom of making the history of Philosophy begin with Hesiod is not even in our days, wholly discarded. 1 Socrates is generally considered as the inaugurator of the next great movement, and for this reason the second period is usually said to open with him. Some historians, however, would bring the first period to a close before the time of Socrates; for example, Ast, 2 Rixner, 3 and Braniss. Others, again, like Hegel, would prolong it beyond him.

1 It is still followed by Fries, Geschichte der Philosophie, and Deutinger, Geschichte der Philosophie, vol. i.
2 Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, 1 A § 48.
3 Geschichte der Philosophie, i. 44 sq.

  |167| Ast and Rixner distinguish in the history of Greek Philosophy the three periods of Ionian Realism, Italian Idealism, and the Attic combination of these two tendencies. Braniss 1 starts with the same fundamental distinction of Realism and Idealism, only he attributes both these tendencies to each of the first two periods. According to him, therefore, Greek thought, like Greek life, is determined by the original opposition of the Ionic and Doric elements. Absorption in the objective world is the characteristic of the Ionic; absorption in self, of the Doric race. In the first period, then, this opposition develops itself in two parallel directions of Philosophy, the one realistic, the other idealistic; in the second, this opposition is cancelled, and lost in the consciousness of the universal spirit; and in the third, the spirit, deprived of its content through Sophistic, seeks in itself a new and more lasting content. According to Braniss, therefore, there are three periods of Greek Philosophy. The first, beginning with Thales and Pherecydes, is further represented on the one side by Anaximander, Anaximenes, and Heracleitus; and on the other by Pythagoras, Xenophanes, and Parmenides; a Doric antithesis being opposed at each stage of this period to the Ionic thesis; finally, the results of the previous development are summed up in a harmonious manner by the Ionian Diogenes and the Dorian Empedocles.

1 Geschichte der Philosophie seit Kant", i. 102 sqq.; 135; 150 sq.

|167 cont.| It is recognised that Becoming presupposes Being, that Being expands itself into Becoming, that the inner and outer, form and matter. unite in the consciousness of the universal spirit; the percipient spirit |168| stands over against this universal spirit, and has to reflect it in itself. Here the second period commences; and in its development there are three moments. By Anaxagoras, spirit is distinguished from the extended object; by Democritus, it is opposed to the object as a purely subjective principle; by the Sophists, all objectivity is placed in the subjective spirit itself; the universal is at length completely suppressed, and spiritual life is entirely lost in the actual sensible presence. Thus thrown back upon itself, however, the spirit is forced to define its reality in a permanent manner, to enquire what is its absolute end, to pass from the sphere of necessity into that of liberty, and in the reconciliation of the two principles to attain the ultimate end of speculation. This is the commencement of the third period, which extends from Socrates to the end of Greek Philosophy.
  Much may be urged against this derivation. In the first place, we must question the discrimination of an Ionic Realism and a Doric Idealism. What is here called Doric Idealism is, as we shall presently find, 1 neither idealism nor purely Doric. This at once destroys the basis of the whole deduction. Ast and Rixner, moreover, divide the Ionic and Doric Philosophy into two periods: a division quite unwarrantable, since these two philosophies were synchronous, and powerfully reacted upon each other. It is to some extent then more correct to treat them, like Braniss, as moments of one interdependent historical series. But we have no right to divide the series, as he does, into two parts, and make the difference between them

1 Cf. the Introduction to the First Period.

|169| analogous to that between the Socratic and pre-Socratic Philosophy. Neither of the three phenomena assigned by Braniss to his second period has this character. Atomistic (even as to date, hardly later than Anaxagoras) is a system of natural Philosophy, as much as any other of the earlier systems; and to the Empedoclean system especially (by virtue of a similar attitude to the Eleatics) it stands in so close an affinity that we cannot possibly place it in a separate period. It discovers no tendency to regard spirit as purely subjective,—its sole concern is the explanation of nature. So, too, in Anaxagoras we recognise a Physicist, and a Physicist anterior to Diogenes, whom Braniss places before him. His world-forming mind is primarily a physical principle, and he makes no attempt to enlarge the sphere of Philosophy beyond the accustomed limits. There is, therefore, no good ground for making as decided a line of demarcation before him as before Socrates. Even Sophistic cannot be separated from the systems of the first period, as will presently appear. The two periods into which Braniss has divided the pre-Socratic Philosophy are followed by a third, comprehending the whole further course of Philosophy to the end of Greek science. This partition is so rough, and takes so little account of the radical differences of the later systems, that it would of itself furnish a sufficient reason for repudiating the construction of Braniss.
  On the other hand, however, Hegel goes too far in the contrary direction. He considers these differences so great that the opposition between the Socratic and the pre-Socratic schools has only a secondary importance |170| in comparison with them. Of his three main periods, the first extends from Thales to Aristotle, the second comprehends all the post-Aristotelian philosophy, with the exception of neo-Platonism; the third embraces neo-Platonism. The first, he says, 1 represents the commencement of philosophising thought until its development and extension as the totality of Science. After the concrete idea has been thus attained, it makes its appearance in the second period as forming and perfecting itself in oppositions: a one-sided principle is carried out through the whole of the presentation of the world; each side developing itself as an extreme, and constituting in itself a totality in regard to its contrary. This breaking up of science into particular systems results in Stoicism and Epicureanism. Scepticism, as the negative principle, opposed itseif to the dogmatism of both. The affirmative is the cancelling of this opposition, in the theory of an ideal world, or world of thought; it is the idea developed into a totality in neo-Platonism. The distinction between the old naturalistic philosophy and later science is brought forward as a ground of classification in the first period; it is not Socrates, however, who is the inaugurator of a new series of development, but the Sophists.

1 Geschichte der Philosophie, i. 182 (cf. ii. 373 sq.). This, however, does not quite agree with the previous distinction of four stages, 1. 118. Similarly Deutinger, whose exposition I cannot further discuss, either here or elsewhere (loc. cit. p. 78 sqq., 140 sqq,, 152 sqq., 226 sqq., 290) makes one period from Thales to Aristotle (which is the second according to him), and divides it into three pairs: 1, From Thales to Heracleitus; 2, from Anaxagoras to the Sophists; 3, from Socrates to Aristotle.

Philosophy attains in the first part of this |171| period, in Anaxagoras, to the conception of νοῦς; in the second part, νοῦς is apprehended by the Sophists, Socrates, and the imperfect Socratics, as subjectivity; and in the third part, νοῦς develops itself as objective thought, as the Idea, into a totality. Socrates, therefore, appears only as continuing a movement begun by others, not as the inaugurator of a new movement.
  The first thing that strikes us in this division is the great disproportion in the content of the three periods. While the first is extraordinarily rich in remarkable personages and phenomena, and includes the noblest and most perfect forms of classic philosophy, the second and third are limited to a few systems which are unquestionably inferior in scientific content to those of Plato and Aristotle. This at once makes us suspect that too much of a heterogeneous character is included in this first period. And, in point of fact, the difference between the Socratic and pre-Socratic philosophy is in no respect less than that between the post-Aristotelian and the Aristotelian. Socrates not only developed a mode of thought already existing; he introduced into Philosophy an essentially new principle and method. Whereas all the previous Philosophy had been immediately directed to the object,—while the question concerning the essence and causes of natural phenomena had been the main question on which all others depended,—Socrates first gave utterance to the conviction that nothing could be known about any object until its universal essence, its concept, was determined; and that, therefore, the testing of our presentations by the standard of the concept—philosophic |172| knowledge of self—is the beginning and the condition of all true knowledge. Whereas the earlier philosophers first arrived at the discrimination of presentation from knowledge through the consideration of things themselves; he, on the contrary, makes all knowledge of things dependent on a right view as to the nature of knowledge. With him, consequently, there begins a new form of science, Philosophy based upon concepts; dialectic takes the place of the earlier dogmatic; and in connection with this, Philosophy makes new and extensive conquests in hitherto unexplored domains. Socrates is himself the founder of Ethics; Plato and Aristotle separate Metaphysics from Physics; the philosophy of nature—until then, the whole of philosophy—now becomes a part of the whole; a part which Socrates entirely neglects, on which Plato bestows hardly any attention, and even Aristotle ranks below the ‘first philosophy.’ These changes are so penetrating, and so greatly affect the general condition and character of Philosophy, that it certainly appears justifiable to begin a new period of its development with Socrates. The only question that might arise is whether to make this beginning with Socrates, or his precursors the Sophists. But although the latter course has been adopted by distinguished authors, 1 it does not seem legitimate.

1 In addition to Hegel, cf. K. F. Hermann, Geschichte der Platonismus, i. 217 sqq. Ast (Geschichte der Philosophie, p. 96). Ueberweg (Grundriss Geschichte der der Phil. i. § 9). Hegel, however, opens the second section of the first great period with the Sophists; Hermann and Ueberweg make them the commencement of their second period; and Ast of his third.

Sophistic is doubtless the |173| end of the old philosophy of nature, but it is not as yet the creation or beginning of a new philosophy: it destroys faith in the possibility of knowing the Real, and thereby discourages thought from the investigation of nature; but it has no new content to offer as a substitute for what it destroys; it declares man in his actions, and in his presentations, to be the measure of all things, but it understands by man, merely the individual in all the contingency of his opinions and endeavours; not the universal essential nature of man, which must be sought out scientifically. Though it is true, therefore, that the Sophists share with Socrates the general character of subjectivity, yet they cannot be said to have inaugurated, in the same sense that he did, a new scientific tendency. The closer definition of the two stand-points proves them to be very distinct. The subjectivity of the Sophists is only a consequence of that in which their philosophic achievement mainly consists—viz., the destruction of the earlier dogmatism: in itself this subjectivity is the end of all Philosophy; it leads to no new knowledge, nor even, like later scepticism, to a philosophic temper of mind; it destroys all philosophic effort, in admitting no other criterion than the advantage and caprice of the individual. Sophistic is an indirect preparation, not the positive foundation of the new system, which was introduced by Socrates. Now it is usual, generally speaking, to commence a new period where the principle which dominates it begins to manifest itself positively with creative energy, and with a definite consciousness of its goal. We open such a period in the history of religion |174| with Christ, and not with the decay of naturalistic religions and Judaism; in Church history, with Luther and Zwinglius, not with the Babylonian exile, and the schism of the Popes; in political history, with the French Revolution, not with Louis XV. The history of Philosophy must follow the same procedure; and, accordingly, we must regard Socrates as the first representative of that mode of thought, the principle of which he was the first to enunciate in a positive manner, and to introduce into actual life.
  With Socrates then the second great period of Greek Philosophy begins. On the subject of its legitimate extent there is even more difference of opinion than on that of its commencement. Some make it end with Aristotle, 1 others with Zeno, 2 or Carneades; 3 a third class of historians, with the first century before Christ; 4 while a fourth is disposed to include in it the whole course of Greek Philosophy after Socrates, including the neo-Platonists. 5 In this case, again, our decision must depend on the answer to the question, how long the same main tendency governed the development of Philosophy? In the first place the close interconnection of the Socratic, Platonic, and Aristotelian philosophy is unmistakeable. Socrates first demanded that all knowledge and all moral action should start from knowledge of conceptions, and he tried to satisfy this demand by means of the epagogic method, which he introduced.

1 Brandis, Fries, and others.
2 Tennemann, in his larger work.
3 Tiedemann, Geist. der Spek. Phil.
4 Tennemann (Grundriss), Ast, Reinhold, Schleiermacher, Ritter, Ueberweg, and others.
5 Braniss, vide supra.

The same conviction forms the starting-point |175| of the Platonic system; but what in Socrates is merely a rule for scientific procedure, is developed by Plato into a metaphysical principle. Socrates had said: Only the knowledge of the concept is true knowledge. Plato says: Only the Being of the concept is true Being, the concept alone is the truly existent. But even Aristotle, notwithstanding his opposition to the doctrine of Ideas, allows this: he too declares the form or concept to be the essence and reality of things; pure form, existing for itself; abstract intelligence, restricted to itself—to be the absolutely real. He is divided from Plato only by his theory of the relation of the ideal form to the sensible phenomenon, and to that which underlies the phenomenon as its universal substratum—matter. According to Plato, the idea is separated from things, and exists for itself; consequently the matter of things, having no part in the idea, is declared by him to be absolutely unreal. According to Aristotle, the form is in the things of which it is the form; the material element in them must, therefore, be endowed with a capability of receiving form; matter is not simply non-Being, but the possibility of Being; matter and form have the same content, only in different fashion—in the one it is undeveloped, in the other developed. Decidedly as this contradicts the theory of Plato considered in its specific character, and energetically as Aristotle opposed his master, yet he is far from disagreeing with the universal presupposition of the Socratic and Platonic philosophy, viz. the conviction of the necessity of knowledge based on concepts, and of the absolute reality of form. |176| On the contrary, his very reason for discarding the doctrine of Ideas, is that Ideas cannot be substantial and truly existent, if they are separated from things.
  Thus far then we have a continuous development of one and the same principle; it is one main fundamental intuition which is presented in these three forms. Socrates recognises in the concept the truth of human thought and life; Plato, the absolute, substantial reality; Aristotle not merely the essence, but also the forming and moving principle of empirical reality; and in all we see the development of the self-same thought. But with the post-Aristotelian schools this order of development ceases, and thought takes another direction. The purely scientific interest of Philosophy gives place to the practical; the independent investigation of nature ceases, and the centre of gravity of the whole is placed in Ethics: and in proof of this altered position, all the post-Aristotelian schools, so far as they have any metaphysical or physical theory, rest upon older systems, the doctrines of which they variously interpret, but which they profess to follow in all essential particulars. It is no longer the knowledge of things as such with which the philosopher is ultimately concerned, but the right and satisfactory constitution of human life. This is kept in view even in the religious enquiries to which Philosophy now applies itself more earnestly. Physics are regarded by the Epicureans only as a means to this practical end; and though the Stoics certainly ascribe a more independent value to general investigations concerning the ultimate grounds of things, yet the tendency of those investigations |177| is nevertheless determined by that of their Ethics. In a similar manner, the question of a criterion of truth is answered from a practical point of view by the Stoics and Epicureans. Lastly, the Sceptics deny all possibility of knowledge, in order to restrict Philosophy entirely to practical matters. Even this practical philosophy, however, has changed its character. The earlier combination of Ethies with politics has ceased; in place of the commonwealth in which the individual lives for the whole, we find the moral ideal of the wise man who is self-sufficient, self-satisfied, and self-absorbed. The introduction of the idea into practical life no longer appears as the highest object to be attained; but the independence of the individual in regard to nature and humanity,—apathy, ἀταραξία, flight from the world of sense; and though the moral consciousness, being thus indifferent to the outward, gains a freedom and universality hitherto unknown to it, though the barriers of nationality are now first broken down, and the equality and affinity of all men, the leading thought of cosmopolitism is recognised, yet on the other hand Morality assumes a one-sided and negative character, which was alien to the philosophy of the classic period. In a word, the post-Aristotelian philosophy bears the stamp of an abstract subjectivity, and this so essentially separates it from the preceding systems that we have every right to conclude the second period of Greek Philosophy with Aristotle.
  It might, indeed, at first sight, appear that an analogous character is already to be found in Sophistic and the smaller Socratic schools. But these examples |178| cannot prove that Philosophy as a whole had received its later bent in the earlier period. In the first place, the phenomena which prefigure in this way the after philosophy are few in number, and of comparatively secondary importance. The systems which give the measure of the period and by which the form of Philosophy, generally speaking, was determined, bear quite another character. And in the second place, this affinity itself, when more closely examined, is less than it appears on a superficial glance. Sophistic has not the same historical significance as the later scepticism; it did not arise out of a general lassitude of scientific energy, but primarily out of an aversion to the prevailing naturalistic philosophy; and it did not, lke scepticism, find its positive completion in an unscientific eclecticism or a mystic speculation, but in the Socratic philosophy of the concept. The Megaric philosophers are rather offshoots of the Eleatics than precursors of the sceptics; their doubts are originally directed against sense-knowledge, not against reason-knowledge. A universal scepticism is not required by them, nor do they aspire to ἀταραξία as the practical end of scepticism. Between Aristippus and Epicurus there exists this striking difference: the former makes immediate and positive pleasure the highest good, the latter absence of pain, as a permanent condition. Aristippus seeks the enjoyment of that which the external world offers; Epicurus seeks man’s independence in regard to the external world. Cynicism, indeed, pushes indifference to the outward, contempt of custom, and repudiation of all theoretic enquiry further than the |179| Stoa, but the isolated position of this school, and the crude form of its doctrine, sufficiently prove how little can be argued from it as to the whole contemporary mode of thought. This remark applies to all these imperfect Socratic schools. Their influence is not to be compared with that of the Platonic and Aristotelian doctrines; and they themselves prevent the possibility of their more important action, by disdaining to develop the principle of intellectual knowledge into a system. Only after the Greek world had undergone the most radical changes could attempts like those of the imperfect Socratics be renewed with any prospect of success.
  The second period then, closes with Aristotle, and the third begins with Zeno, Epicurus, and the contemporary scepticism. Whether or not it should extend to the conclusion of Greek Philosophy is a doubtful question. We shall find later on, 1 that in the post-Aristotelian philosophy three divisions may be distinguished: the first, including the bloom of Stoicism, of Epicureanism, and of the older Scepticism; the second, the period of Eclecticism, the later Scepticism, and the precursors of neo-Platonism; the third, neo-Platonism in its various phases. If we count these three divisions as the third, fourth, or fifth periods of Greek Philosophy, there is this advantage, that the several periods are much more equal in duration than if we make all three into one period.

1 Vide the Introduction to § 3. The Eleatics.

But though they are thus equalised chronologically, they become even more disproportionate in content; for the one |180| century from the appearance of Socrates to the death of Aristotle embraces an amount of scientific achievement equal to the eight or nine following centuries put together. And, what is here most essential, Philosophy in these 900 years moves in the same uniform direction. It is governed by an exclusive subjectivity, which is estranged from the purely speculative interest in things, and reduces all science to practical culture and the happiness of man. This character is displayed (as we have just observed), by Stoicism, Epicureanism, and Scepticism. It is seen in the Eclecticism of the Roman period, which selects what is probable out of the different systems entirely from practical points of view, and according to the standard of subjective feeling and interest. Finally, it isan essential part of neo-Platonism. This will be shown more in detail hereafter; at present it is enough to notice that the attitude of the neo-Platonists to natural science is exactly the same as that of the other schools posterior to Aristotle; and that their physics tend in the same direction as the Stoical teleology, only more exclusively. Their ethical doctrine is also very closely allied to that of the Stoies, being indeed the last outcome of that ethical dualism which developed itself after the time of Zeno; and the dualism contained in their anthropology had already been prepared by Stoicism. In regard to religion, the position originally adopted by neo-Platonism was precisely that of the Stoa, and even its metaphysic, including the doctrine of the intuition of the Deity approaches much nearer to the other Aristotelian systems than might at first sight be supposed. The neo-Platonic theory of |181| emanation, for example, is an unmistakable repetition of the Stoic doctrine of the Divine reason permeating the whole universe with its various forces: the only ultimate distinction between them is the transcendeucy of the Divine; from which arises for man, the requirements of an ecstatic contact with Deity. This transcendency itself, however, is a consequence of the previous development of science, and of the sceptical denial of all objective certainty. The human spirit, scepticism had said, has absolutely no truth within itself. It must, therefore, says neo-Platonism, find truth absolutely outside itself, in its relation to the Divine, which is beyond its thought and the world cognisable by thought. But it follows that the world beyond is presented entirely according to subjective points of view, and determined by the necessities of the subject; and just as the different spheres of the real correspond to the different parts of human nature, so the whole system is designed to point out and to open the way for man’s communion with God. Here too then, it is the interest of human spiritual life, not that of objective knowledge as such, which governs the system; and thus neo-Platonism follows the tendency peculiar to the whole of Philosophy subsequent to Aristotle. While, therefore, I attach no undue importance to this question, I prefer to unite the three sections into which the history of Philosophy after Aristotle is divided into one period, although its outward extent far exceeds that of either of the preceding periods.
  To sum up, I distinguish three great periods of Greek Philosophy. The philosophy of the first is Physics, or more accurately a physical dogmatism; it |182| is physical, because it primarily seeks to explain natural phenomena from their natural causes, without making any definite discrimination of spiritual and corporeal in things, or the causes of things; it is a dogmatism, because it directly pursues the knowledge of the objective, without any previous enquiry into the conception, possibility, and conditions of knowledge. In Sophistic, this attitude of thought to the external world is at an end, man’s capacity for the knowledge of the real is called in question, philosophic interest is averted from nature, and the necessity of discovering a higher principle of truth on the soil of human consciousness makes itself felt. Socrates answers the demand in declaring the cognition of the concept the only way to true knowledge and true virtue; from which Plato further concludes, that only pure concepts can be true reality; he establishes this principle dialectically in conflict with ordinary presentative opinion, and develops it in a system embracing Dialectic, Physics, and Ethics. Finally, Aristotle discovers the concept in the phenomena themselves, as their essence and entelechy, carries it in the most comprehensive manner into all the spheres of the actual, and establishes the principles of the scientific method on a firm basis for after times. In place of the former one-sided philosophy of nature there thus appears in the second period a philosophy of the concept, founded by Socrates and perfected by Aristotle. But since the idea is thus opposed to the phenomenon, since a full essential Being is ascribed to the idea, and only an imperfect Being to the phenomenon, a dualism arises, which appears indeed more |183| glaring and irreconcilable in Plato, but which even Aristotle is unable to overcome either in principle or in result; for he, too, begins with the opposition of form and material, and ends with that of God and the world, of spiritual and sensible. Only the spirit in its absoluteness, directed to no external object and sufficing to itself, is perfect and infinite; that which is external to it cannot increase this inner perfection or be otherwise than valueless and indifferent for it. So, too, the human spirit ought to seek its unqualified satisfaction in itself, and in its independence of everything external. Thought in pursuing this tendency withdraws from the object into itself, and the second period of Greek Philosophy passes into the third.
  Or to state the same more succinctly. The spirit, we might say, is, during the first stage of Greek thought, immediately present to itself in the natural object; in the second it separates itself from the natural object, that it may attain a higher truth in the thought of the super-sensible object; and in the third it asserts itself in its subjectivity, in opposition to the object, as supreme and unconditioned. The standpoint, however, of the Greek world is thereby abandoned, while at the same time no deeper reconciliation of the opposing elements is possible on Greek soil. Thought being thus separated from the actual, loses its content, and becomes involved in a contradiction, for it maintains subjectivity to be the final and highest form of being, and yet opposes to it the Absolute in unattainable transcendency. To this contradiction Greek Philosophy ultimately succumbed.

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§ 1. The Earlier Ionian Physics

  Four schools are usually distinguished in the pre-Socratic period—the Ionic, the Pythagorean, the Eleatic, and the Sophistic. The character and internal relation of these schools are determined, partly according to the scope, partly according to the spirit of their enquiries. In regard to the former, the distinctive peculiarity of the pre-Socratic period is marked in the isolation of the three branches which were afterwards united in Greek Philosophy: by the Ionians, we are told, Physics were exclusively developed; by the Pythagoreans, Ethics; by the Eleatics, Dialectic: in Sophistic, we are taught to see the decline and fall of this exclusive science, and the indirect preparation for a more comprehensive science. 1

1 Schleiermacher, Geschichte der Philosophie p. 18 sq., 51 sq.; Ritter, Geschichte der Philosophie i. 189 sqq.; Brandis, Geschichte der griechisch-rom. Philosophie i. 42 sqq.; Fichte’s Zeitschrift für Philosophie xiii. (1844) p. 131 sqq. In his Geschichte der Entwicklungen der Griechisch Philosophie (i. 40), which appeared subsequently, Brandis abandoned this view, and adopted the following division: 1. The older Ionian Physics, including the Heracleitean doctrine. 2. The Eleatics. 3. The attempts to reconcile the opposition of Being and Becoming (Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and the Atomists). 4. The Pythagorean doctrine. 5. Sophistic.

This difference of scientific tendency is then brought into connection with the |185| intrinsic difference between the Ionic and Doric tribes 1: some writers 2 making this the basis of their whole theory of ancient Philosophy, and deriving from the particular traits of the Ionic and Doric character, the philosophic opposition of a realistic and an idealistic theory of the world. How the further division of our period is then connected with this point of view has been shown already.
  These differences, however, are by no means so real or so deeply seated as is here presupposed. Whether the Pythagorean doctrine was essentially ethical, and the Eleatic, dialectical in character, or whether these elements can be regarded as determining the two systems, we shall presently enquire; and we shall find that they, as much as any part of the pre-Socratic Philosophy, arose from the inclination of natural science to investigate the essence of things, and especially of natural phenomena. Aristotle makes the general assertion that with Socrates, dialectical and ethical enquiries began, and physical enquiries were discontinued. 3

1 Cf. Schleiermacher, loc. cit., p. 18 sq. ‘Among the Ionians,’ he says, ‘the Being of things in man is the predominant interest, and calm contemplation finds its expression in Epic poetry. Among the Dorians the Being of man in things predominates; man strives against things, asserts his independence in regard to them, and proclaims himself as a unity in Lyric poetry. Hence the development of Physics by the Ionians, and of Ethies by the Pythagoreans. As Dialectic, is equally opposed to the two branches of Philosophy, so the Eleatics are neither Ionians nor Dorians, but a union of the two; they are Ionian by birth, and Dorian by language.’ Ritter expresses similar opinions, loc. cit. Ritter shares them to some extent (p. 47), and in a less degree, Brandis, p. 47.
2 Ast, Rixner, Braniss (vide supra, p. 166 544.) Petersen, Philologisch-historische Studien, p. 1 sqq.; Hermann, Geschichte und System des Plato, i. 141 sq., 160; cf. Böckh’s excellent remarks on this subject, Philolaus, p. 39 sqq.
3 De Partibus Animalium i. 1, 642 4a, 24: among the earlier philosophers there are only scattered forecasts of the conception of formal causes: αἴτιον δὲ τοῦ μὴ ἐλθεῖν τοὺς προγενεστέρους ἐπὶ τὸν τρόπον τοῦτον, ὅτι τὸ τί ἣν εἶναι καὶ τὸ ὁρίσασθαι τὴν οὐσίαν οὐκ ἦν. ἀλλ’ ἥψατο μὲν Δημόκριτος πρῶτος, ὧς οὐκ ἀναγκαίoυ δὲ τῇ φυσικῇ θεαίουωρίᾳ, ἀλλ’ ἐκφερόμενος ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ τοῦ πράγματος, ἐπὶ Σωκράτους δὲ τοῦτο μὲν ηὐξήθη, τὸ δὲ ζητεῖν τὰ περὶ φύσεως ἔληξε, πρὸς δὲ τὴν χρήσιμον ἀρετὴν καὶ τὴν πολιτικὴν ἀπέκλιναν οἱ φιλοσοφοῦντε.

Hermann is, therefore, quite justified |186| in saying that it is impossible to maintain, even from the standpoint of the ancient thinkers, that Dialectics, Physics and Ethics came into existence together, and were of equal importance contemporaneously, for there could have been no question of any leading ethical principle until the preponderance of spirit over matter had been recognised; nor could Dialectic, as such, have been consciously employed, before form in contrast with matter had vindicated its greater affinity to spirit. The object of all philosophic investigation, he continues, in its commencement was nature, and if even enquiry was incidentally carried into other spheres, the standard which it applied, being originally taken from natural science, remained foreign to those spheres. We are, therefore, merely importing our own standpoint into the history of the earliest philosophic systems, in ascribing a dialectic character to one, an ethical character to another, a physiological character to a third; in describing this system as materialistic, and that as formalistic, while all in truth pursue the same end, only in different ways. (Geschichte und Syst. der Plato, i. 140 sq.) The whole pre-Socratic Philosophy is in its aim and content a philosophy of nature, and though ethical or dialectical conceptions may appear here and there in it, this never happens to such an extent, nor is any system sufficiently |187| distinguished in this respect from all the others, that we can properly characterise it as dialectical or ethical. This result must at once cause us to mistrust any discrimination of a realistic and an idealistic philosophy. True idealism can only exist where the spiritual is consciously distinguished from the sensible, and regarded as the more primitive of the two. {Ed. note: “primitive” as in “antecedent.”} In that sense, for example, Plato, Leibniz and Fichte are idealists. Where this is the case, there always arises the necessity for making the spiritual as such the object of enquiry; Dialectic, Psychology, Ethics are separated from natural philosophy. If, therefore, neither of these sciences attained a separate development previous to Socrates, it proves that the definite discrimination of the spiritual from the sensible, and the derivation of the sensible from the spiritual—in which philosophic idealism consists—was still alien to this period. Neither the Pythagoreans nor the Eleatics are, in reality, idealists; at any rate they are not more so than other philosophers, who are assigned to the realistic division. In comparison with the older Ionic school, we find, indeed, that they attempt to get beyond the sensible phenomenon; instead of seeking the essence of all things like their predecessors in a corporeal substratum, the Pythagoreans sought it in Number, the Eleatics in Being without further determination. But the two systems do not advance equally far in this direction; for if the Pythagoreans give to Number as the universal form of the sensible, the same position and significance as the Eleatics subsequently to Parmenides give to the abstract concept of Being, they stop greatly short of the Eleatics |188| in the abstraction of the qualities of the sensible phenomenon. It would, therefore, be more correct to speak of three philosophic tendencies instead of two: a realistic, an idealistic, and an intermediate tendency. We have really, however, no right to describe the Italian philosophers as Idealists. For although their first principle is, according to our ideas, incorporeal, the precise discrimination of spiritual from corporeal is with them entirely wanting. Neither the Pythagorean Number, nor the Eleatic One, is a spiritual essence, distinct from the sensible, like the Platonic ideas; on the contrary, these philosophers maintain that sensible things are according to their true essence, numbers; or that they are one invariable substance. 1 Number and Being are the substance of the bodies themselves,—the matter of which the bodies consist, and for this reason they are apprehended sensuously. Conceptions of number and conceptions of magnitude interpenetrate one another with the Pythagoreans; numbers become something extended; and among the Eleatics, even Parmenides describes Being as the substance which fills space. So in the further development of the systems, there is a confusion of spiritual and corporeal. The Pythagoreans declare bodies to be numbers: but virtue, friendship and the soul are also numbers, or numerical proportions; nay, the soul itself is regarded as a corporeal thing. 2 Similarly, Parmenides says, 3 that reason |189| in man depends upon the admixture of his bodily parts, for the body and the thinking principle are one and the same;

1 This may be in itself a contradiction (as Steinhart points out in the Halle Allgemeine Literature, 1845, Nov. p. 891), but it does not follow that it may not have been held by the ancient philosophers.
2 Aristotle, De Anima i. 2, 404 a, 17. Vide infra, Pythagoreans.
3 That Parmenides says this only in the second part of his poem proves nothing against the above application of the words. If he had been clearly conscious of the difference between spiritual and corporeal, he would not thus have expressed himself even in his hypothetical explanation of phenomena.

|189 cont.| even the celebrated proposition about the unity of thought and Being 1 has not the same meaning with him as in modern systems. It cannot be, as Ribbing calls it, 2 ‘the principle of idealism, for it is not derived from the theorem that all Being arises from Thought, but conversely from the theorem that Thought falls under the conception of Being; in the former case only could it be idealistic, in the latter it must be considered realistic. Again, when Parmenides connects his Physics with his doctrine of Being, he parallels the antithesis of Being and non-Being, not with the antithesis of spiritual and corporeal, but with that of light and darkness. Aristotle asserts that the Pythagoreans presuppose, like the other natural philosophers, that the sensible world embraces all reality; 3 he makes them to differ from Plato in that they hold numbers to be the things themselves, whereas Plato distinguishes the ideas from things; 4 he describes the Pythagorean Number, notwithstanding its incorporeality, as a material principle. 5

1 V. 94 sqq.
2 Genet. Darst. der platon. Ideenlehre, i. 378, cf. 28 sq.
3 Metaphysics i. 8, 989 b, 29 sqq. The Pythagoreans, it is true, admit non-sensible principles, but they nevertheless confine themselves entirely to the explanation of nature ὡς ὁμολογοῦντες τοῖς ἄλλοις φυσιολόγοις, ὅτι τό γε ὃν τοῦτ᾽ ἐστιν ὅσον αἰσθητόν ἐστι καὶ περιείληφεν ὁ καλούμενος οὐρανός.
4 Metaphysics i. 6, 987 b, 25 sqq.
5 Metaphysics i. 5, 989 a, 15: Φαίνονται δὴ Kal οὗτοι τὸν ἀριθμὸν νομίζοντες ἀρχὴν εἶναι καὶ ὡς ὕλην τοῖς οὖσι, καὶ ὧς πάθη τε καὶ ἕξεις. Ibid. b, 6: ἐοίκασι δ᾽ ὡς ἐν ὕλης εἴδει τὰ στοιχεῖα τάττειν᾽ ἐκ τούτων γὰρ ὡς ἐνυπαρχόντων συνεστάναι καὶ πεπλάσθαι φασὶ τὴν οὐσίαν.

He includes Parmenides, |190| with Protagoras, Democritus and Empedocles, among those who held that the sensible only is the real; 1 and it is from this source that he derives the Eleatic theory of the sensible world. 2 On all these points we must allow him to be fully justified. The Italian philosophers likewise commence with an enquiry into the essence and grounds of sensible phenomena; and they seek for these in that which underlies things, and is not perceptible to sense. In so doing, they transcend indeed the ancient Ionian Physics, but not the later systems of natural philosophy. That the true essence of things is to be apprehended not by the senses, but by the understanding alone, is also taught by Heracleitus, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and the Atomistic Philosophy. They, too, hold that the ground of the sensible lies in the not-sensible. Democritus himself, thorough materialist as he was, has no other definition for matter than the Eleatic conception of Being; Heracleitus considers the law and relation of the whole to be alone the permanent element in phenomena; Anaxagoras is the first who distinguishes spirit clearly and definitely from matter, and he is for that reason, in a well-known passage of Aristotle, placed far above all his predecessors. 3

1 Metaphysics iv. 5, 1010 a. 1 (after speaking of Protagoras, Democritus, Empedocles, and Parmenides): αἴτιον δὲ τῆς δόξης τούτοις ὅτι περὶ τῶν ὄντων μὲν τὴν ἀλήθειαν ἐσκόπουν, τὰ δ᾽ ὄντα ὑπέλαβον εἶναι τὰ αἰσθητὰ μόνον.
2 De Caelo, iii. 1, 298 b, 21 ff: ἐκεῖνοι δὲ [οἱ περὶ Μέλισσόν τε καὶ Παρμενίδην], οὕς, εἰ καὶ τἆλλα λέγουσι καλῶς, ἀλλʼ οὐ φυσικῶς γε δεῖ νομίσαι λέγειν· τὸ γὰρ εἶναι ἄττα τῶν ὄντων ἀγένητα καὶ ὅλως ἀκίνητα μᾶλλόν ἐστιν ἑτέρας καὶ προτέρας ἢ  τῆ φυσικῆς σκέψεως. ἐκεῖνοι δὲ διὰ. τὸ μηθὲν μὲν ἄλλο παρὰ τὴν τῶν αἰσθητῶν οὐσίαν ὑπολαμβάνειν εἶναι, τοιαύτας δέ τινας νοῆσαι πρῶτοι φύσεις, εἴπερ ἔσται τις γνῶσις ἢ φρόνησις, οὕτω μετήνεγκαν ἐπὶ ταῦτα τοὺς ἐκεῖθεν λόγους.
3 Metaphysics i. 3, 984 b, 15: νοῦν δή τις εἰπὼν ἐνεῖναι, καθάπερ ἐν τοῖς ζῴοις, καὶ ἐν τῇ φύσει τὸν αἴτιον τοῦ κόσμου καὶ τῆς τάξεως πάσης οἷον νήφων ἐφάνη παρ᾽ εἰκῇ λέγοντας τοὺς πρότερον.

If, therefore, the opposition of |191| Materialism and Idealism is to furnish a principle of division for ancient philosophy, this division must be limited not only, as Braniss maintains, to the epoch preceding Anaxagoras, but preceding Heracleitus. Even then, strictly speaking, it is not applicable, nor does it take account of the intermediate position of the Pythagoreans between the Ionians and the Eleatics.
  This double tendency of philosophic thought is also said to correspond with the opposition of the Ionic and Doric elements, and, accordingly, all the philosophers until the time of Socrates, or rather Anaxagoras, are assigned either to an Ionic or a Doric series of development. This division is certainly more exact than that of some of the ancient historians, 1 who divided the whole of Greek Philosophy into Ionian and Italian. But even in regard to the most ancient schools, so far as their internal relations have to be represented, such a division can hardly be carried out. Among the Dorians, Braniss counts Pherecydes, the Pythagoreans, the Eleatics and Empedocles. Ast makes the addition of Leucippus and Democritus. Now it is difficult to see how Pherecydes can be placed among the Dorians, and the same may be said of Democritus, and probably |192| of Leucippus.

1 Diogenes L., i. 13; that he is here following older authorities is clear (as Brandis loc. cit. p. 43 shows) from the fact of the schools he mentions only coming down to the time of Clitomachus (129-110 BC) cf. Augustine. Civitas Dei, viii. 2; the Aristotelian Scholiast, Scholium in Aristotle, 323, a, 36, and the Pseudo-Galen (Galeni Historia philosopha, δ. 2, p. 228) Kühn; this last further divides the Italian philosophers into Pythagoreans and Eleatics, and so far agrees with the theory of three schools—Italian, Ionian, and Eleatic (Clement, Al. Stromata i. 300 c.) The review of the earlier philosophers in Aristotle’s first book of Metaphysics follows the order of dogmatic points of view, and would be out of place in regard to our present purpose.

|192 cont.| Moreover, the founder of Pythagorism was by birth an Ionian of Asia Minor; and though the Doric spirit manifests itself in his mode of life, his philosophy seems to betray the influence of the Ionian Physics. Empedocles was born, it is true, in a Doric colony; but the language of his poem is that of the Ionian epos. The Eleatic School was founded by an Ionian of Asia Minor, it received its final development in an Ionian settlement, and in the person of one of its last great representatives, Melissus, it returned to Asia Minor. 1 There remain, therefore, of pure Dorians, only the Pythagoreans, with the exception of the founder of the school, and, if we will, Empedocles. It has been said that it is not necessary that the philosophers of either division should belong to it also by birth; 2 and this condition certainly ought not to be insisted on in the case of every individual. But it is surely indispensable with regard to each division as a whole; all their members should be either Doric or Ionic, if not by birth, at least by education. Instead of this, we find more than half the so-called Dorian philosophers, not only belonging by birth and extraction to the Ionian race, but receiving their education from it, through national customs, civil institutions, and what is especially important, language. Under these circumstances, differences of tribe are of very secondary moment.

1 Petersen (Philol. hist. Studien, p. 15) also thinks he can discover an Aeolic element in the Eleatics. That there is not the slightest ground for this conjecture has been shown by Hermann, Zeitschrift für die Alterthumswissenschaft, 1834, p. 298.
2 Braniss, loc. cit. p. 103.

They may have influenced the direction of |193| thought, but cannot be regarded as having determined it. 1
  In the ulterior development of these two series, the Ionian and the Dorian, Braniss opposes Thales to Pherecydes, Anaximander to Pythagoras, Anaximenes to Xenophanes, Heracleitus to Parmenides, Diogenes of Apollonia to Empedocles. Such a construction, however, does great violence to the historical character and relation of these men. On the Ionian side, it is incorrect to place Heracleitus beside the earlier philosophers of that school, for he does not stand in a relation of simple progression to Anaximenes, as Anaximenes stands to Anaximander. Diogenes, on the other hand, was entirely uninfluenced by the philosophy of Heracleitus; we cannot, therefore, say with Braniss (p. 128) that he was expressly related to that philosopher, and that he summed up the result of the whole Ionic development. Braniss is even more arbitrary in his treatment of the Dorians. In the first place, Pherecydes, as has already been said (p. 89 sq.), is not, properly speaking, a philosopher, still less is he a Doric or idealistic philosopher; for what we know of him bears a close relation to the old Hesiodic-Orphic cosmogony, the mythic precursor of the Ionic Physics. Even the discrimination of organising force from matter, on which Braniss lays so much stress (p. 108) had been brought forward in a mythic manner by Hesiod, and in a more definite and philosophic form by Anaxagoras the Ionian; whereas it is entirely wanting in the Italian Eleatics, 2 |194| and is of doubtful value among the Pythagoreans.

1 So Ritter also decides, i. 191 sq.
2 The second part of Parmenides’ poem (v. 131) mentions Eros as plastic force; but this second part speaks only from the point of view of ordinary opinion.

|194 cont.| It is true that the belief in the transmigration of souls was shared by Pherecydes with Pythagoras, but this isolated doctrine, which is rather religious than philosophic, cannot be taken as decisive for the position of Pherecydes in history. Further, if we connect Xenophanes with Pythagoras, as Parmenides is connected with Xenophanes, or Anaximenes with Anaximander, we ignore the internal difference which exists between the Eleatic standpoint and the Pythagorean. It is manifestly improper to treat a doctrine which has a principle of its own, essentially distinct from the Pythagorean principle, and which developed itself in a separate school, as a mere continuation of Pythagorism. Again, as we shall presently show, to place Empedocles exclusively in the Pythagorean-Eleatic series is to close our eyes to all aspects of the question but one. Lastly, what right has Braniss to pass over the later development of Pythagorism accomplished by Philolaus and Archytas; and the development of the Eleatic doctrine effected by Zeno and Melissus, while he recognises men like Anaximenes and Diogenes of Apollonia, who were in no way more important, as representatives of particular stages of development? His scheme is a Procrustean bed for historical phenomena, and the Doric Philosophy suffers doubly. At the one end it is produced beyond its natural proportions, and at the other it is denuded of members which are essentially part of its growth.
  The same holds good of Petersen’s 1 earlier attempt |195| to determine the historical relation of the pre-Socratic schools.

1 Philol. hist. Stud. pp. 1-40. On the other hand. cf. Hermann (Zeitschr. für Alterthumsw., 1834, p. 285 sqq.), from whom the above remarks are partly taken.

|195 cont.| Here, too, the general principle is the opposition of realism, or rather materialism, and idealism. This opposition develops itself in three sections, each of which is again subdivided into two parts: first, the opposing elements stand over against one another in sharp contrast; and secondly, there arise various attempts to conciliate them, which, however, accomplish no real adjustment, but still incline to one or other of the two sides. In the first section, the oppositions begin to develop themselves—the mathematical idealism of the Doric Pythagoreans confronts the hylozoistic materialism of the older Ionians (Thales, Anaximander, Anaximenes, Heracleitus and Diogenes). A reconciliation is next attempted on the idealistic side by the Eleatics; on the materialistic by the physician Elothales of Cos, his son Epicharmus and Alcmaeon. In the second section, the contrasts beceme more marked; we encounter, on the one hand, pure materialism, in the Atomists; on the other, pure idealism in the later Pythagoreans, Hippasus, Oenopides, Hippo, Ocellus, Timaeus, and Archytas. Between these two, we find on the idealistic side the pantheism of Empedocles, on the materialistic side the dualism of Anaxagoras. In the third and last section both tendencies pushed to excess equally lead to the destruction of Philosophy through the scepticism of the Sophists. Thus one uniform scheme is undoubtedly carried through the whole pre-Socratic Philosophy, but it is a scheme that scarcely corresponds with the actual order of history. It is unwarrantable, as we have just seen, to divide the philosophers |196| of this period into materialists, or realists, and idealists. Nor can we, for reasons to be stated more fully later on, admit the propriety of placing Heracleitus in one category with the ancient Ionians, among the materialists. On the other hand, we must demur to the separation of the later Pythagoreans from the earlier; because the so-called fragments of their writings, which alone would justify it, are certainly to be regarded as forgeries of the neo-Pythagoreans. How the Eleatics can be assigned to an intermediate position between the Ionians and Pythagoreans, whereas they carried to the utmost that abstraction from the sensible phenomena which the Pythagoreans had begun, it is difficult to say, nor can we concur in opposing to the Eleatics, Elothales, Epicharmus, and Alcmaeon as materialists with incipient dualism. These men were not, indeed, systematic philosophers; but any isolated philosophic sentences they adopted seem to have been chiefly derived from the Pythagoreans and Eleatic doctrines. Lastly, how can Empedocles be considered an idealist; and Anaxagoras with his theory of vovs a materialist? and how can the system of Empedocles, with its six primitive essences, of which four were of a corporeal kind, be described as pantheism, and more particularly as idealistic pantheism? 1

1 Steinhart is allied with Braniss and Petersen (Allg. Encykl. v. Ersch. und Grube, Art. ‘Ionische Schule,’ Sect. 2, vol. xxii. 457. He distinguishes, like them, the Ionic and Doric Philosophy; in the case of the Pythagoreans, however, and still more in that of the Eleatics, what he finds is not pure Dorianism, but a mixture of the Doric and Ionic elements. The Ionic Philosophy he considers to have had three stages of development. In Thales, Anaximander, and Anaximenes, he says, we first find obscure and scattered intimations of a spiritual power that rules in the world. In Heracleitus, Diogenes, and above all in Anaxagoras, the recognition of the spiritual principle becomes constantly clearer. Lastly, Leucippus and Democritus deny the spiritual principle in a conscious manner, and thus prepare the destruction of this exclusively physical philosophy. Leaving out of the question the opposition of the Doric and Ionic elements, the importance of which Steinhart himself considerably restricts, it seems to me a doubtful proceeding to separate Empedocles from the Atomists and Anaxagoras, to whom he is so nearly related; nor can I convince myself that the Atomistic Philosophy had its origin in a reaction against the theory of a world-forming spirit, and is later in its origin than the Anaxagorean physics. And lastly, as will presently appear, I cannot altogether agree with Steinhart’s view of Diogenes.

  |197| The foregoing discussions have now paved the way for a positive determination of the character and course of philosophic development during our first period. I have characterised the Philosophy of that period (irrespectively for the present of Sophistic), as a philosophy of nature. It is so by virtue of the object which occupies it: not that it limits itself exclusively to nature in the narrower sense,—that is to say, to the corporeal, and the forces unconsciously working in the corporeal; for such a limit of its sphere would necessarily presuppose a discrimination of spiritual and corporeal which does not as yet exist. But it is for the most part occupied with external phenomena; the spiritual, so far as that domain is touched, is regarded from the same point of view as the corporeal; and consequently there can be no independent development of Ethics and Dialectic. All reality is included under the conception of Nature, and is treated as a homogeneous mass, and since that which is perceptible to the senses always forces itself first upon our observation, it is natural that everything should at first be derived from those principles which appear most adapted to explain sensible existence. The intuition of nature is thus the starting-point |198| of the earliest philosophy, and even when immaterial principles are admitted, it is evident that they have been attained through reflection on the data furnished by the senses, not through observation of spiritual life. The Pythagorean doctrine of numbers, for instance, is immediately connected with the perception of regularity in the relations of tones, in the distances and movements of the heavenly bodies; and the doctrine of Anaxagoras of the νοῦς which forms the world has reference primarily to the wise organisation of the world, and especially to the order of the celestial system. Even the Eleatic theses of the unity and unchangeableness of Being are not arrived at by opposing the spiritual as a higher reality to the sensible phenomena; but by eliminating from the sensible all that seems to involve a contradiction, and by conceiving the corporeal or the plenum in an entirely abstract manner. Here too, therefore, it is, generally speaking, nature with which Philosophy is concerned.
  To this its object, thought still stands in an immediate relation, and considers the material investigation of nature as its first and only problem. The knowledge of the object is not as yet dependent on the self-knowledge of the thinking subject, on a definite consciousness of the nature and conditions of knowing; on the discrimination of scientific cognition and unscientific presentation. This discrimination is constantly spoken of from the time of Heracleitus and Parmenides, but it appears, not as the basis, but only as a consequence of the enquiry into the nature of things. Parmenides denies the trustworthiness of the sensuous perception, |199| because it shows us an immoveable Being; Empedocles, because it makes the union and separation of material substances appear as a process of becoming and passing away; Democritus and Anaxagoras, because it cannot reveal the primitive constituents of things. We find in these philosophers no definite principles as to the nature of knowledge which might serve to regulate objective enquiry, in the way that the Socratic demand for knowledge based on conceptions probably served Plato: and though Parmenides and Empedocles in their didactic poems exhort us to the thoughtful consideration of things, and withdrawal from the senses, they do so almost always in an exceedingly vague manner; and it does not follow because such a discrimination finds place in their poems, that in their systems it may not be the consequence instead of the presupposition of their metaphysic. Although, therefore, their metaphysic laid the foundation for the after development of the theory of knowledge, it is not itself, as yet, a theory of knowledge. The pre-Socratic Philosophy is, as to its form, a dogmatism: thought, fully believing in its own veracity, applies itself directly to the object; and the objective view of the world first gives rise to the propositions concerning the nature of knowledge which prepare the way for the later Philosophy of conceptions.
  If we ask, lastly, what are the philosophic results of the first period, we find, as has already been pointed out, that the pre-Socratic systems attempted no accurate discrimination between the spiritual and the corporeal. The early Ionian physicists derived everything |200| from matter, which they held to be moved and animated by its own inherent force. The Pythagoreans substitute number for matter; the Eleatics, Being, regarded as invariable Unity: but neither of them, as we have already remarked, distinguished the incorporeal principles as to their essential nature, from the corporeal phenomenon. Consequently, the incorporeal principles are themselves apprehended materially, and so in man, soul and body, ethical and physical, are considered from the same points of view. This confusion is particularly striking in Heracleitus, for in his conception of everliving fire he directly unites primitive matter with motive force and the law of the universe. The Atomistic philosophy is from the outset directed to a strictly material explanation of nature, and therefore neither within man nor without him does it recognise any immaterial element. Even Empedocles cannot have apprehended his moving forces in a purely intellectual manner, for he treats them precisely ike the corporeal elements with which they are mingled in things; so too in man the spiritual intermingles with the corporeal; blood is the faculty of thought. Anaxagoras was the first to teach definitely that the spirit 1s unmixed with any material element; but in Anaxagoras we reach the limit of the ancient Philosophy of Nature. Moreover, according to him, the world-forming spirit operates merely as a force of nature, and is represented in a half sensible form as a more subtle kind of matter. This particular example, therefore, cannot affect our previous judgment of the pre-Socratic Philosophy so far as its general and predominant tendency is concerned.
  |201| All these traits lead us to recognise as the characteristic peculiarity of the first period, a preponderance of natural research over introspective reflection; an absorption with the outer world which prevents thought from bestowing separate study on any object besides nature, from distinguishing the spiritual from the corporeal in an exact and definite manner; from seeking out the form and the laws of scientific procedure for themselves. Overborne by external impressions, man at first feels himself a part of nature, he therefore knows no higher problem for his thought than the investigation of nature, he applies himself to this problem, impartially and directly, without stopping previously to enquire into the subjective conditions of knowledge; and even when his investigation of nature itself carries him beyond the sensible phenomena as such, yet he does not advance beyond nature considered as a whole, to an ideal Being, which has its import and its subsistence in itself. Behind the sensible phenomena, forces and substances are indeed sought which cannot be perceived by the senses; but the effects of these forces are the things of nature, the essences not apprehended by sense are the substance of the sensible itself, and nothing besides; a spiritual world side by side with the material world has not yet been discovered.
  How far this description applies also to Sophistic we have already seen. The interest of natural research and the belief in the truth of our presentments are now at an end, but no new road to knowledge and higher reality is as yet pointed out; and far from opposing the kingdom of the spirit to nature, the Sophists regard |202| man himself as a merely sensuous being. Although, therefore, the pre-Socratic natural philosophy is abolished in Sophistic, Sophistic lke its predecessors knows of nothing higher than Nature, and has no other material to work on; the change consists not in opposing a new form of science to a previous form, but in making use of the existing elements, particularly the Eleatic and Heracleitean doctrines, to introduce doubt into scientific consciousness, and to destroy belief in the possibility of knowledge.
  Thus we are compelled, by the results of our investigation, to bring the three oldest schools of Philosophy—the Ionian, the Pythagorean, and the Eleatic—into a closer connection than has hitherto been customary. They are not only very near to each other in respect to time, but are much more alike in their scientific character than might at first sight be supposed. While they agree with the whole of the early Philosophy in directing their enquiries to the explanation of nature, this tendency is in their case more particularly shown in a search for the substantial ground of things: in demanding what things are in their proper essence, and of what they consist; the problem of the explanation of Becoming, and passing away, of the movement and multiplicity of phenomena is not as yet distinctly grasped. Thales makes all things originate and consist in water, Anaximander in infinite matter, Anaximenes in air; the Pythagoreans say that everything is Number; the Eleatics that the All is one invariable Being. Now it is true that the Eleatics alone, and they only subsequently to Parmenides, |203| denied movement and Becoming, whereas the Ionians and the Pythagoreans minutely describe the formation of the world. But they neither of them propounded the question of the possibility of Becoming and of divided Being in this general manner, nor in the establishment of their principles did they attempt particular definitions in regard to it. The Ionians tell us that the primitive matter changes; that from matter, originally one, contrary elements were separated and combined in various relations to form a world. The Pythagoreans say that magnitudes are derived from numbers, and from magnitudes, bodies; but on what this process was based, how it came about that matter was moved and transmuted, that numbers produced something other than themselves,—they make no scientific attempt to explain. What they seek is not so much to explain phenomena from general principles, as to reduce phenomena to their first principles. Their scientific interest is concerned rather with the identical essence of things, the substance of which all things consist, than with the multiplicity of the phenomena and the causes of that multiplicity. When the Eleatics, therefore, entirely denied the Becoming and the Many they merely called in question an unproved presupposition of their predecessors; and in apprehending all reality as a unity absolutely excluding multiplicity, they only carried out more perfectly the tendency of the two older schools. Heracleitus was the first to see in motion, change, and separation, the fundamentai quality of the primitive essence; and the polemic of Parmenides first occasioned Philosophy to enquire more |204| thoroughly into the possibility of Becoming. 1 With Heracleitus, then, philosophic development takes a new direction: the three older systems, on the contrary, fall together under the same class, inasmuch as they are all satisfied with the intuition of the substance of which things consist, without expressly seeking the cause of multiplicity and change, as such. This substance was sought by the Ionians in a corporeal matter, by the Pythagoreans in number, by the Eleatics in Being as such. By the first it was apprehended sensuously, by the second mathematically, by the third metaphysically; but these differences only show us the gradual development of the same tendency in a progression from the concrete to the abstract; for number and mathematical form are a middle term between the sensible and pure thought; and were afterwards regarded, by Plato especially, as their proper connecting link.

   The turning-point which I here adopt in the development of the pre-Socratic Philosophy has been already remarked by other historians in respect of the Ionian schools. On this ground Schleiermacher 2 first distinguished two periods in the Ionian Philosophy, the |205| second of which begins with Heracleitus.

1 From this point of view it might seem preferable to commence the second section of the first period with Parmenides, as well as Heracleitus, as my critic in the Repertorium of Gersdorf (1844, H. 22, p. 335) proposes, seeing that up to the time of these two philosophers (as he observes) the question, whence all things arose, had been answered by theories of matter, and that Heracleitus and Parmenides were the first to enquire concerning the conception of Being and Becoming. But the connection between Parmenides and Xenophanes would thus be broken; and as the doctrine of Parmenides, in spite of all its historical and scientific importance, approximates closely in its content and tendency to the earlier systems, it appears on the whole better to make Heracleitus alone the starting-point of the second section.
2 Geschichte der Philosophie (Vorl. v. J. 1812) p. 33.

|205 cont.| Between this philosopher and his predecessors, he says, there is a considerable chronological gap, probably in consequence of the interruption occasioned to philosophic pursuits by the disturbances in Ionia. Moreover, while the three most ancient Ionians came from Miletus, Philosophy now spreads itself geographically over a much wider sphere. Also, in the content of his philosophy, Heracleitus rises far above the earlier physicists, so that he may, perhaps, have derived little from them. Ritter, 1 too, acknowledges that Heracleitus differs in many respects from the older Ionians, and that his theory of the universal force of nature places him quite in a separate order from them. Brandis, 2 in still closer agreement with Schleiermacher, holds that with Heracleitus commences a new period in the development of the Ionian Philosophy, to which, besides Heracleitus, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Leucippus, Democritus, Diogenes, and Archelaus likewise belong; all these being distinguished from the earlier philosophers by their more scientific attempts to derive the multiplicity of particulars from a primitive cause, by their more explicit recognition or denial of the distinction between spirit and matter, as also of a Divinity that forms the world; and by their common endeavour to establish the reality of particulars and their variations in opposition to the doctrine of the Eleatic One. These remarks are quite true, and only, perhaps, open to question with regard to Diogenes of Apollonia.

1 Geschichte der Philosophie 242, 248; Ion, Phil. 65.
2 Gr.-röm. Phil. i, 149.

But it |206| is not enough to make this difference the dividing-line between two classes of Ionic physiologists; it is deeply rooted in the whole of the pre-Socratic Philosophy. Neither the doctrine of Empedocles, nor that of Anaxagoras, nor that of the Atomists can be explained by the development of the Ionian physiology as such; their relation to the Eleatics is not the merely negative relation of disallowing the denial of Reality, Becoming, and Multiplicity; they positively learned a good deal from the Eleatic school. They all acknowledge the great principle of the system of Parmenides, that there is no Becoming or passing away in the strict sense of the terms; consequently they all explain phenomena from the combination and separation of material elements, and they in part borrow their concept of Being directly from the Eleatic metaphysics. They ought, therefore, to be placed after the Eleatic school, and not before it. In regard to Heracleitus, it is less certain whether, or how far, he concerned himself with the beginnings of the Eleatic Philosophy; in point of fact, however, his position is not only entirely antagonistic to the Eleatics, but he may generally be said to enter upon a new course altogether divergent from that hitherto followed. In denying all fixedness in the constitution of things, and recognising the law of their variability as the only permanent element in them, he declares the futility of the previous science which made matter and substance the chief object of enquiry; and asserts the investigation of the causes and laws which determine Becoming and Change to be the true problem of Philosophy. Thus, although the question as to the essence and material |207| substance of things was not overlooked by Heracleitus and his followers, any more than the account of the formation of the world was omitted by the Ionians and Pythagoreans, the two elements stand with each of them in a very different relation. In the one case, the enquiry as to the substance of things is the main point, and the notions about their origin are dependent upon the answer given to this question; in the other, the chief question is that of the causes of Becoming and Change, and the manner of conceiving the original substance of Being depends upon the determinations which appear necessary to the philosopher to explain Becoming and Change. The Ionians make things arise out of the rarefaction and condensation of a primitive matter, because this best adapts itself to their notion of primitive matter; the Pythagoreans hold to a mathematical construction, because they reduce everything to number; the Eleatics deny Becoming and Motion, because they find the essence of things in Being alone. On the contrary, Heracleitus makes fire the primitive matter, because on this theory only can he explain the flux of all things; Empedocles presupposes four elements and two moving forces; Leucippus and Democritus presuppose the atoms and the void, because the multiplicity of phenomena seems to them to require a multiplicity of material primitive elements, and the change in phenomena a moving cause; Anaxagoras was led by similar considerations to his doctrine of the ὁμοιομερῆ and the world-intelligence. Both sets of philosophers speak of Being and Becoming; but in the one case the definitions respecting Becoming |208| appear only as a consequence of their theory of Being; in the other, the definitions of Being are merely presuppositions in the theory of Becoming. In assigning, therefore, the three most ancient schools to a first division of pre-Socratic Philosophy, and Heracleitus, and the other physicists of the fifth century to a second, we follow not merely the chronological order, but the internal relation of these philosophers.
  The course of philosophic development in the second division may be more precisely described as follows:—First, the law of Becoming is proclaimed by Heracleitus unconditionally as the universal law of the world; the reason of which he seeks in the original constitution of matter. The concept of Becoming is next enquired into more particularly by Empedocles and the Atomists. Generation is identified with the union, and decease with the separation of material elements: consequently, a plurality of original material elements is assumed, the motion of which has to be conditioned by a second principle distinct from them; but whereas Empedocles makes his primal elements of matter qualitatively different one from another, and places over against them moving force in the mythical forms of friendship and discord, the Atomists recognise only a mathematical difference between the primitive bodies, and seek to explain their motion in a purely mechanical manner from the operation of weight in empty space; space they consider indispensable, because without it, as they believe, no plurality and no change would be possible. This mechanical explanation of Nature Anaxagoras finds inadequate. He therefore sets spirit beside matter as |209| moving cause, discriminates them one from the other as the compound and the simple, and defines primitive matter as a mixture of all particular matters; a mixture, however, in which these particular matters exist and are already qualitatively determined. Heracleitus explains these phenomena dynamically, from the qualitative change of one primitive matter, which is conceived as essentially and perpetually changing; Empedocles and the Atomic philosophers explain them mechanically, from the union and separation of different primitive matters; Anaxagoras finally is persuaded that they are not to be explained by mere matter, but by the working of the spirit upon matter. At this point, in the nature of the case, the purely physical explanation of nature is renounced; the discrimination of spirit from matter, and the higher rank which it assumes in opposition to matter, demands a recasting of science generally on the basis of this conviction. As, however, Thought is as yet incapable of such a task, the immediate result is that philosophy is bewildered in regard to its general vocation, despairs of objective knowledge, and places itself, as a means of formal development, in the service of the empirical subjectivity which acknowledges the validity of no universal law. This is effected in the third section of the pre-Socratic Philosophy by means of Sophistic. 1

1 Tennemann and Fries adopt this arrangement of the pre-Socratic schools on purely chronological grounds. Hegel bases it on scientific observations concerning the internal relation of the systems. He does not, however, expressly distinguish the two main currents of ancient physics, and, as before noticed, he separates Sophistic from the other pre-Socratic doctrines. It is to be found, too, in Braniss, to whose general presupposition I must nevertheless demur. Among |210| the more recent writers, Noack, and previously Schwegler, adopt my view; Haym, on the contrary (Allg. Encyk. Sect. 3 B. xxiv. p. 25 sqq.), though in harmony with me in other respects, places Heracleitus before the Eleatics. In his history of Greek Philosophy, p. 11 sq. Schwegler discusses: 1, the Jonians; 2, the Pythagoreans; 3, the Eleatics; and 4, Sophistic, as the transition to the second period. He defends the subdivision of the Ionians into earlier and later, for the reasons stated on p. 202 sq.; and assigns to the earlier, Thales, Anaximander, and Anaximenes; to the later, Heracleitus, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and Democritus. So also Ribbing (Platon. Ideenlehre, i. 6 sqq.) considers that since Heracleitus, Empedocles, the Atomists, and Anaxagoras are, in their principles, lower than the Pythagoreans and Eleatics, they, as well as the older Ionians. must be placed before them. Ueberweg has the following division: 1, the older Ionians, including Heracleitus; 2, the Pythagoreans; 3, the Eleatics; 4, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and the Atomists. The Sophists he places in the second period, of which they form the first chapter; Socrates and his successors, as far as Aristotle, constitute the’ second; Stoicism, Epicureanism, and Scepticism, the third. I cannot now enter upon any detailed examination of these different classifications. It will be seen in the course of this exposition what are my objections to the theory of Strümpell (Gesch. der Theoret. Phil. der Griechen, 1854, p. 17 sq.), in point of chronology as well as the internal aspects of the subject. His exposition of the pre-Socratic Philosophy is as follows: First, the older Ionian Physiologists, starting from the contemplation of the changes in nature, arrive in Heracleitus at the conception of original Becoming. To this doctrine the Eleatics oppose a system which entirely denies Becoming, while contemporaneously the later Physicists, on the one side Diogenes, Leucippus, and Democritus; on the other, Empedocles and Anaxagoras, reduce it to mere motion. A reconciliation of the opposition between Becoming and Being, and between Opinion and Knowledge, was attempted by the Pythagoreans; and Sophistic is a dialectic solution of this opposition. It will suffice at present to say that the position of Heracleitus, the Eleatics, Diogenes, and more especially the Pythagoreans, appear to me more or less misrepresented by this arrangement.

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§ 1. The Earlier Ionians, 1 the Pythagoreans and Eleatics

  i. Thales 2 is reputed to be the founder of the Ionian Naturalistic Philosophy. He was a citizen of Miletus, a contemporary of Solon and Croesus, 3

1 Ritter, Gesch. der Ion. Phil., 1821. Steinhart, Ion. Schule, Allg. Encyk. v.; Erach und Gruber, Sect. II., vol. xxii. 457-490.
2 Decker, De Thalete Milesio. Halle, 1865. Older monographs in Ueberweg, Grundriss. der Geschichte der Philosophie, i. 35 sq., 3rd edition.
3 This is beyond question; but the chronology of his life (on which cf. Diels on the Chronicle of Apollodorus, Rhein-Museum, xxxi. 1, 15 sq.) cannot be more precisely fixed. According to Diogenes i. 37, Apollodorus placed his birth in the first year of the 35th Olympiad, i.e. 640-639 BC Eusebius places it in the second year of the 35th Olympiad, and Hieronymus also in the 35th Olympiad, Chronicon i. But this statement is probably founded only on some approximate calculation of the eclipse of the sun, which Thales is said to have predicted (vide infr. p. 213, 3). This is not, as used formerly to be supposed, the eclipse of 610 BC; but, according to Airy (On the Eclipses of Agathocles, Thales, and Xerxes, Philosophical Transactions, vol. cxliii. p. 179 sqq.); Zech (Astronomische Untersuchungen der wichtigeren Finsternisse, etc., 1853, p. 57, with which cf. Ueberweg, Grundriss der Gesch. der Phil. i. 36, third edition); Hansen (Abhandlungen der königl. sächs. Gesellsch. der Wissenschaft. vol. xi.; Adversos Mathematicos phys. Kl. vol. vii. p. 379); Martin (Revue Archéologique, nouv. aér., vol. ix. 1864, p. 184), and other authorities, that which occurred on the 28th, or, according to the Gregorian calendar, the 22nd of May, 585 BC Pliny, in his Naturalis Historia, ii. 12, 53, places it in the fourth year of the 48th Olympiad (584-5 BC), 170 A.U.C.; Eudemus ap. Clement, Stromata, i. 302 A, about the fourth year of the 50th Olympiad (580-576); Eusebius in his Chronicon in Ol. 49, 3, 582-1; they, therefore, take the second eclipse, which is most accurately calculated by Pliny. About the same time (under the Archon Damasius, 586 BC) Demetrius Phalereus ap. Diogenes L. i. 22 makes Thales and the rest to have received their designation of the seven wise men. According to Apollodorus, Diogenes L. i. 38, Thales was 78 years old; (Decker’s proposal, p. 18 sq., to substitute 95 does not commend itself to me) according to Sosicrates (ibid.), 90; according to Pseudo-Lucian (Macrob. 18), 100; according to Syncell. (p. 213 C), more than 100. His death is placed by Diogenes, loc. cit., in the 58th Olympiad; |212| likewise by Eusebius, Hieronymus, and Cyrillus, loc. cit.; but in that case, as is shown by Diels, and confirmed by Porphyry (ap. Abulfaradasch, p. 33, ed. Pococke), his birth cannot have been assigned by Apollodorus to Ol. 35, 1, but to Ol. 39, 1 (624 BC; 40 years before the eclipse), and the divergent statements must be ascribed to some ancient corruption of the text in the source consulted by Diogenes. As to the manner of Thales’s death and his burial-place, some untrustworthy accounts are to be found in Diogenes L. i. 39. ii. 4; Plutarch, Solon, 12; some epigrams relating to him, in Anthol. vii. 83 sq., Diogenes L. 34. Whether the Thales mentioned in Aristotle Polit. ii. 12, 1274 a, 25, as the scholar of Onomacritus, and the teacher of Lycurgus and Zaleucus, is the Milesian philosopher, or some other person, matters little; and the unfavourable judgment, which, according to Aristotle, ap. Diogenes L. ii. 46 (if, indeed, the statement be his at all), Pherecydes passed upon Thales, is equally unimportant.

whose ancestors |212| are said to have immigrated to their later home from Phoenicia, but more probably from Boeotia. 1

1 Herodotus, i. 170, says of him: Θάλεω ἀνδρὸς Μιλησίου, τὸ ἀνέκαθεν γένος ἐόντος Φοίνικος: Clement, Stromata i. 302 C, simply calls him Φοῖνιξ τὸ yévos; and, according to Diogenes, i. 22, (where, however, Röper, Philol. xxx. 563, proposes to read ἐπολιτεύθησαν, and ἦλθον), he seems to have been regarded as a Phoenician immigrant, settled in Miletus. This statement is probably founded on the fact that his ancestors belonged to the Cadmean tribe in Beotia, who were intermingled with the Ionians of Asia Minor (Herodotus i. 146; Strabo, xiv. 1, 3, 12, p. 633, 636; Pausan. vii. 2,7). According to Pausanias, a great number of Theban Cadmeans established themselves in Priene, for which reason the name of the place was altered to Cadme. Hellanicus in Hesychius sub voc. also calls the inhabitants of Priene Καδμῖοι. For Diogenes, i. 22, says: ἦν τοίνυν ὃ Θαλῆς, ὡς μὲν Ἡρόδοτος καὶ Δοῦρις καὶ Δημόκριτός φησι, πατρὸς μὲν ᾿Ἐξαμίου, μητρὸς δὲ Κλεοβουλίνης, ἐκ τῶν Θηλιδῶν (or Θηλυδ.) οἵ εἰσι Φοίνικες, εὐγενέστατοι τῶν ἀπὸ Κάδμου καὶ ᾿Αγήνορος. He thus explains the Φοῖνιξ by ‘descendant of Cadmus’; following either Duris or Democritus, or, at any rate, some very trustworthy source. Herodotus, however, shows by the word ἀνέκαθεν that not Thales himself, but only his remote ancestors had belonged to the Phoenicians. If Thales was only in this sense Φοῖνιξ, his nationality, even if the story of the immigration of Cadmus have any foundation in history, is Greek and not Phoenician; nor is this statement affected by the circumstance (vide Schuster, Aeta soc. philol. Lips. iv. 328 sq.; cf. Decker, De Thale., 9) that the father of Thales perhaps bore a name that was Phoenician in its origin. Diogenes L. , loc. cit., and 1, 29, according to our text, calls him in the genitive ᾿Εξαμίου. For this we must read ᾿Εξαμύου; and some manuscripts have ᾿Εξαμύλου or ᾿Εξαμυούλου, which certainly points to a Semitic extraction. But this Graeco-Phoenician name, like that of Cadmus and many others, may have been kept up centuries long among the Phoenicians settled in Greece. We cannot infer from it a direct Phoenician descent, either for Thales or his father. His mother’s name is wholly Greek.

The consideration |213| in which he was held by his fellow-citizens is sufficiently shown by the place which he occupies as chief of the seven sages. 1 This has reference in the first instance, it is true, to his practical ability and worldly prudence of which other proofs have come down to us; 2 but we hear also that he distinguished himself by his knowledge of mathematics and astronomy, 3

1 Cf. p: 119 sq:; Timon ap. Diogenes L. i. 34; Cicero De Legibus ii. 11, 26; Academica ii. 37, 118; Aristophanes, Clouds, 180; Birds, 1009; Plautus, Rudens iv. 3, 64; Bacchides i. 2, 14. In Captivi ii. 2, 124, Thales is a proverbial name for a great sage. For sayings ascribed to him cf. Diogenes L. i. 35 sqq.; Stobaeus, Florilegium iii. 79, 5; Plutarch, Septem sapientium convivium c. 9.
2 According to Herodotus, i. 170, he counselled the Ionians, before their subjugation by the Persians, to form a confederation with a united central government to resist them; and, according to Diogenes L. 25, it was he who dissuaded the Milesians from provoking the dangerous enmity of Cyrus by an alliance with Croesus. It is not consistent with this, and in itself is hardly credible that he should have accompanied Croesus in his expedition against Cyrus (as Herodotus relates, i. 75), and by planning a canal, should have enabled him to cross the Halys. It is still more incredible that Thales, the first of the seven wise men, should have been such are unpractical theorist, as a well-known anecdote represents him. Plato, Theaetetus, 174 a; Diogenes L. 34, cf. Aristotle Eth. N. vi. 7, 1141 b, 3, etc. Little more, however, is to be said for the story of the oil presses, intended to refute this opinion; not to mention the anecdote in Plutarch, De sollertia animalium c. 15, p. 971. The assertion (Clytus ap. Diogenes L. 25), μονήρη αὐτὸν γεγονέναι καὶ ἰδιαστὴν, cannot be true in this universal sense; and the stories about his celibacy, for which cf. Plutarch, Quaestiones Convivales iii. 6, 3, 3; Sol. 6, 7; Diogenes L. 26; Stobaeus, Florilegium, 68, 29, 34, are equally worthless.
3 Thales is one of the most celebrated of the ancient mathematicians and astronomers. Xenophanes eulogises him in this respect, cf. Diogenes L. i. 23: δοκεῖ δὲ κατά τινας πρῶτος ἄστρολογῆσαι καὶ ἡλιακὰς ἐκλείψεις καὶ τροπὰς προειπεῖν, ὥς φησιν Ἐὔδημος ἐν τῇ περὶ τῶν ἀστρολυγουμένων ἱστορίᾳ ὅθεν αὐτὸν καὶ Ξενοφάνης καὶ “Ηρόδοτος θαυμάζει μαρτυρεῖ δ᾽ αὐτῷ καὶ Ἡράκλειτος καὶ Δημόκριτος. Phönix ap. Athen. xi. 495, d: Θαλῆς γὰρ, ὅστις ἀστέρων ὀνήΐστος etc. (others read ἀστέων). Strabo, xiv. 1, 7, p. 635: Θαλῆς…ὁ πρῶ τος φυσιολογίας ἄρξας ἐν τοῖς Ἕλλησι καὶ μαθηματικῆς. Apuleius Florilegium iv. 18, p. 88 Hild. Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 1; Proclus in Euclid. 19 (vide following note). The anecdote quoted from Plato, Theaetetus 174 A, in the previous note, has reference to his reputation as an astronomer. Among the proofs related of his astronomical knowledge, the best known is the above-mentioned prediction of the eclipse which occurred during a battle between the armies of Alyattes and Cyaxares or Astyages (Herodotus i. 74; Eudemus ap. Clement Stromata i. 302 A; Cicero Divinatio i. 49, 112; Pliny’s Historia Naturalis ii. 12, 53); it was probably in consequence of this that the prediction and explanation of solar and lunar eclipses generally were ascribed to him. See Diogenes L. loc. cit.; Eusebius, Praeparatio evangelica x. 14, 6; Augustine, Civitas Dei, viii. 2; Ps-Plutarch, Placita ii. 24; Stobaeus, Eclogae i. 528, 560; Simplicius, in Categ. Schol. in Aristotle 64 a, 1, 65 a, 30; Ammonius, ibid. 64 a, 18; Schol. in Plat. Remp. p. 420; Bekk. Cicero Rep. i. 16. Theo in the passage taken from Dercyllides, Astron. c. 40, p. 324 Mart., and repeated by Anatolius, in Fabric. Bibl. gr. iii. 464. The latter says, following Eudemus: Θαλῆς δὲ [εὗρε πρῶτος] ἡλίου ἔκλειψιν καὶ τὴν κατὰ τὰς τροπὰς αὐτοῦ περίοδον [8]. πάροδον] ὡς οὐκ ἴση ἀεὶ συμβαίνει. (On this opinion, which we meet with elsewhere, cf. Martin loc. cit. p. 48). In partial agreement with this, Diogenes says (i. 24 sq. 27) that Thales discovered τὴν ἀπὸ τροπῆς ἐπὶ τροπὴν πάροδον of the sun, and declared the sun to be 720 times as large as the moon. He, or according to others, Pythagoras, first proved that the triangles constructed on the diameter of a circle are rectangles (πρῶτον καταγράψαι κύκλου τὸ τρίγωνον ὄρθογώνιον); that he perfected the theory of the σκαληνὰ τρίγωνα (Cobet: σκαλ. καὶ τρίγ.), and in general the γραμμίκη θεωρία; determined the seasons, divided the year into 365 days, measured the height of the pyramids by the length of their shadow (this according to Hieronymus; the same in Pliny, Historia Naturalis xxxvi. 12, 82; a little differently in Plutarch Septem sapientium convivium 2, 4, 147); Callimachus ap. Diogenes L. 22 says that he was the first to mark out the constellation of the Little Bear, which is repeated by Theo in Arati Phaen. 37, 39, and by the Scholiast of Plato, p. 420, No. 11, Bekker. Proclus asserts that he first showed that the diameter halved the circle (in Euclid, 44, 157 Friedl.), and that in an isosceles triangle, the angles at the base are equal (ibid. 67 and 250 Friedl.); that the angles at the vertex are equal (ibid. 79, a, 299, according to Eudemus); that triangles are equal when they have two angles and one side equal to one another; and that by means of this proposition the distance of ships on the sea could be measured (ibid. 92 [352]; this is also on the authority of Eudemus). Apuleius, Florida iv. 18, p. 88 H., says that Thales discovered temporum ambitus, ventorum flatus, stellarum meatus, tonitruum sonora miracula, siderum obligua curricula, solis annua reverticula (the τροπαὶ, the solstices of which Theo and Diogenes in the previously quoted passages, the Scholiast on Plato, p. 420 Bekk., speak); also the phases and eclipses of the moon, and a method of determining quotiens sol magnitudine sua circulum, quem permeat, metiatur, Stobaeus ascribes to him |215| some other philosophical and physical theories hereafter to be mentioned, also the division of the heavens into five zones (Eclogae i. 502, Ps-Plutarch, Placita ii. 12, 1); the discovery that the moon is illuminated by the sun (ibid., 556, Placita ii. 28, 8), the explanation of her monthly obscuration, and of her eclipses, 560. Pliny, Historia Naturalis xviii. 25, 213, mentions a theory of his about the Pleiades, and Theo in Arat. 172, a passage relative to the Hyades. According to Cicero, Republic i. 14, he made the first celestial globe; and, according to Philostratus, Apoll. ii. 5, 3, he observed the stars from Mycale. How much of these reports is true cannot now be ascertained; that the prediction of the eclipse of the sun cannot be historical, Martin shows in the Revue Archéologique, nouv. ser. vol. ix (1864) 170 sqq.; cf. especially p. 181 sq.

and that he |214| was the first to transplant the elements of these sciences |215| into Greece from the countries of the east and south. 1

1 Arithmetic, says Proclus, in Euclid. 19, o [65] was discovered by the Phoenicians; Geometry by the Egyptians. on the occasion of the overflowing of the Nile, Θαλῆς δὲ πρῶτον εἰς Αἴγυπτον ἐλθὼν μετήγαγεγ εἰς τὴν Ἑλλάδα τὴν θεωρίαν ταύτην, καὶ πολλὰ μὲν αὐτὸς εὗρε, πολλῶν δὲ τὰς ἀρχὰς τοῖς μετ᾽ αὐτὸν ὑφηγήσατο. Whence Proclus got this information he does not state, and though it is not improbable that Eudemus may be his authority, we know not whether the whole account comes from that source, nor who may be the authorities of Eudemus. Thales’s Egyptian journey, his intercourse with the priests of that country, and the mathematical knowledge which he gained from them are spoken of by Pamphile and Hieronymus, ap. Diogenes L. 24, 27; the author of the letter to Pherecydes, ibid. 43; Pliny, Historia Naturalis xxxvi. 12, 82; Plutarch, De Iside et Osiride 10, p. 354; Septem sapientium convivium 2, p. 146; Placita i. 3, 1; Clement, Stromata, i. 300 D, 302; Iamblichus v. Pythag. 12; Scholiast in Plato, p. 420, No. 11 Bekk. (cf. Decker, loc. cit., p. 26 sq.), a conjecture as to the reason of the overflowings of the Nile was also attributed to Thales, and may perhaps be connected with this statement (Diodor. i. 38; Diogenes L. i. 87). If it be true that Thales was engaged in trade (Plutarch, Solon 2, asserts this, prefixing ‘ϕασὶν’), we might suppose that he was first led to Egypt by his commercial journeys, and then made use of his opportunity for the advancement of his knowledge. We cannot, however, regard his presence in Egypt as absolutely proved, probable as the assertion may be; since the tradition on the subject cannot be traced further back than Eudemus, whose date is still 250 or 300 years from that of Thales’s supposed journey, still less can his acquaintance with the Chaldaeans be proved by such late and uncertain testimony as that of Josephus, Contra Apionem, i. 2; or the length of his stay in Egypt by that of the Placita Philosophorum falsely attributed to Plutarch (i. 8, 1). A scholium (scholium in Aristotle 538, a, 18) states that he was sent for into Egypt as a teacher of Moses—a specimen of the manner in which history was manufactured in the Byzantine period and even earlier. That he derived philosophical and physical theories from the East, as well as geometrical and mathematical knowledge, is not asserted by any of our witnesses, except perhaps Iamblichus and the author of the Placita Philosophorum. Röth’s attempt (Gesch. der Abendl. Phil. ii. a, 116 sqq.) to prove this from the affinity of his doctrine with that of Egypt, falls to the ground so soon as we ascribe to Thales, only what there is good reason for ascribing to him.

|216| That he inaugurated the school of ancient physicists is affirmed by Aristotle, 1 and seems well established. He is at any rate the first whom we know to have instituted any general enquiry into the natural causes of things, in contradistinction to his predecessors, who contented themselves partly with mythical cosmogonies, and partly with isolated ethical reflections. 2

1 Metaphysics i. 3, 983 b, 26. Bonitz, in commenting on this passage, rightly reminds us that it is not Greek Philosophy in general, but only the Ionian Physics, the origin of which is here attributed to Thales. Theophrastus says (ap. Simp. Physics 6 a, m), but only as a conjecture, that there must have been physicists before Thales, but that his name caused them all to be forgotten. Plutarch, on the other hand (Solon, c. 3, end), remarks that Thales was the only one of his contemporaries who extended his enquiry to other than practical questions (περαιτέρω τῆς χρείας ἐξικέσθαι τῇ θεωρίᾳ). Similarly Strabo (sup. p. 218, 3) Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 1; Diogenes L. 24. The assertion of Tzetzes (Chil. ii. 869, xi. 74) that Pherecydes was the teacher of Thales has no weight, and is besides contradicted by the chronology.
2 Thales does not appear to have committed his doctrines to writing. (Diogenes L. i. 23, 44; Alex. in Metaphysics i. 3, p. 21, Bon. Themist. Or. xxvi. 317, B; Simplicius, De an. 8 a, cf. Philop. De an. C 4; Galen. in Hipp. de Nat. hom. i. 25, end, vol. xv. 69 Kühn.) Aristotle always speaks of him from some uncertain tradition, or from his own conjecture (Metaphysics i. 3, 983 b, 20 sqq., 984 a, 2; De caelo, i. 13, 294 a, 28; De an. i. 2, 405 a, 19, c. 5, 411 a, 8; Polit. i. 11 1259 a, 18, cf. Schwegler, in Metaphysics i. 3); similarly Eudemus, ap. Proclus in Euclid. 92 (352), Röth (Gesch. der Abendl. Phil. ii. a, iii.) concludes that the supposed Thalesian writings must be genuine, because of their agreement with the propositions attributed to Thales. This is a strange inference, for in the first place he himself only considers two of the writings authentic; and as to the contents of these two, nothing has been handed down to us. These writings are the ναυτικὴ ἀστρολογία and the treatise περὶ τροπῆς. In the second place it is obvious that traditions about Thales’s doctrine might as easily have been taken from spurious writings, as, on the other hand, the authors of such writings might have taken advantage of floating traditions. Among the works ascribed to Thales the ναυτικὴ αστρολογία (mentioned by Diogenes L. 28, Simplicius Physics 6 a, m) seems to have been the oldest. According to Simplicius, it was his only work. Diogenes says it was held to be a work of Phocus the Samian. According to Plutarch (De Pythiae oraculis 18, p. 402), who considers it genuine, it was written in verse; it seems to be intended by the ἔπη, mentioned in Diogenes L. 84. Whether the poem, περὶ πετεώρων, ascribed to him by Suidas (Θαλ.), is or is not identical with the ναυτικὴ ἄστρολογία, cannot be ascertained. Two other works, which many writers consider to be his only writings, περὶ τροπῆς καὶ ἰσημερίας, are quoted in Diogenes L. 23 (cf. Suidas). The Pseudo-Galen (In Hippocrates De humor. i. 1, 1, vol. xvi. 37, K) quotes a work, περὶ ἀρχῶν; but this testimony is itself sufficient to prove that the work is not authentic. Neither the verse quoted Diogenes L. 35 (cf. Decker, p. 46 sq.), nor the letter (ibid. 343 sq.) can be considered as genuine. To which of these writings Augustine refers in Civitas Dei viii. 2 (where he asserts that Thales left books of instruction) it is not of much consequence to know. The same may be said of the doubtful allusions to books of his in Josephus (C. Apion. 1. 2), and of the quotations in Seneca, Naturales Quaestiones iii. 13, 1, 14. 1; iv. 2, 22; vi 6, 1; Ps-Plutarch, Placita i. 3; iv. 1; Diodorus, i. 88; Scholium in Apollonius Rhod. iv. 269.

In answer to |217| this enquiry, he declared water to be the matter of which all things consist, and from which they must have arisen. 1 As to the reasons of this theory, nothing was known by the ancients from historical tradition. Aristotle 2 indeed says that Thales may have been led to it |218| through observing that the nourishment of all animals is moist, and that they all originate from moist germs; but this he expressly states to be merely his own conjecture.

1 Aristotle Metaphysics i. 3, 983 b, 20: Θαλῆς μὲν ὁ τῆς τοιαύτης ἀρχηγὸς φιλοσοφίας ὕδωρ εἶναί φησιν [se. στοιχεῖον καὶ ἀρχὴν τῶν ὄντων] Cicero Academica 11. 37, 118: Thales…ex agua dicit constare omnia, and many others (a list of these is given in Decker, p. 64). We find in Stobaeus, Eclogae i. 290, and almost word for word in Justin. Coh. ad Gr. c. 5; Ps-Plutarch Placita i. 3, 2, the expression: ἀρχὴν τῶν ὄντων ἀπεφήνατο τὸ ὕδωρ, ἐξ ὕδατος γάρ φησι πάντα εἶναι καὶ εἰς ὕδωρ ἀναλύεσθαι; but this is taken from Aristotle, who, shortly before the words just now quoted, says that most of the ancient philosophers knew only of material causes: ἐξ οὗ γάρ ἔστιν ἅπαντα τὰ ὄντα καὶ ἐξ οὗ γίγνεται πρῶτον καὶ εἰς ὃ φθείρεται τελευταῖον….τοῦτο στοιχεῖον καὶ ταύτην ἀρχήν φασιν εἶναι τῶν ὄντων. Aristotle is, therefore, in reality our only source for the knowledge of Thales’s proposition.
2 Loc. cit. a. 22: λαβὼν ἴσως τὴν ὑπόληψιν ἐκ τοῦ πάντων ὁρᾷν τὴν τροφὴν ὑγρὰν οὖσαν καὶ αὐτὸ τὸ θερμὸν ἐκ τούτου γιγνόμενον καὶ τούτῳ ζῶν… καὶ διὰ τὸ πάντων τὰ σπέρματα τὴν φύσιν ὑγρὰν ἔχειν, τὸ δ᾽ ὕδωρ ἀρχὴν τῆς φύσεως εἶναι τοῖς ὑγροῖ. By θερμὸν is not to be understood (as by Brandis, i. 114) warmth generally, including that of the stars (see following note); it relates to the vital heat of animals, to which πάντων is limited by the context.

|218 cont.| It is only by later and less accurate authors that the conjecture of Aristotle is asserted as a fact, with the farther additions that plants draw their nourishment from water, and the stars themselves from damp vapours; that all things in dying dry up, and that water is the all-organising and all-embracing element; 1 that we must assume one primitive matter, because otherwise it would be impossible to explain the transformation of the elements one into another; and that that one matter must be water, because everything is derived from water, by means of rarefaction and condensation. 2 All this makes it difficult for us to come to any definite conclusion on the subject. It is possible that the Milesian philosopher may have been influenced by the considerations that Aristotle supposes; he may have started from the observation that everything living arises from a liquid, and in decaying, returns to |219| a liquid state;

1 Ps-Plutarch Placita i. 3, 2 sq. (so Eusebius, Praeparatio evangelica xiv. 14, 1, and in essential agreement with this, Stobaeus, loc. cit.); Alex. ad Metaphysics 9838 b, 18; Philoponus, Physics A, 10; De an. A, 4 a; Simplicius, Physics 6 a, 8 a; De caelo 273 b, 36; Karst. Schol. in Aristotle 514 a, 26. It has been already shown by Ritter, i. 210, and Krische (Forschungen i. 36) that Simplicius is here speaking only from his own conjecture or that of others, that the subsequent passage where he refers to Theophrastus does not relate to the reasons of the system of Thales, and that we have consequently no right to conclude (as Brandis does, i. 111 sqq.) the existence of trustworthy documents concerning Thales’s reasoning from the supposed agreement of Aristotle and Theophrastus.
2 Galen. On the Elements According to Hippocrates i, 4, vol. i. 442, 444, 484, speaking simultaneously of Thales, Anaximenes, Anaximander, and Heracleitus. It was in truth Diogenes of Apollonia (vide infra) who first proved the unity of matter by the transformation of the elements.

|219 cont.| but other observations may likewise have conduced to this theory, such as the formation of solid ground from alluvion, the fertilising power of rain and of streams, the numerous animal population of the waters; in conjunction with such observations, the old myth of Chaos and of Oceanos, the father of the gods, may also have had some effect on him; but the exact state of the case cannot be ascertained. Nor can we say whether he conceived his primitive watery matter as infinite; for the assertion of Simplicius 1 is manifestly based upon the Aristotelian passage which he is elucidating; 2 and this passage does not mention Thales. It does not even affirm that any one of the philosophers who held water to be the primitive matter, expressly attributed the quality of infinity to that element. Supposing such an assertion had been made, it would be more reasonable to refer it to Hippo (vide infra) than to Thales, for the infinity of matter is elsewhere universally regarded as a conception first entertained by Anaximander; Thales most likely never raised such a question at all.
  He is said to have discriminated 3 from water, as |220| primitive matter, the deity or spirit which permeates this matter,

1 Physics 105 b, τὰ: of μὲν ἕν τι στοιχεῖον ὑποτιθέντες τοῦτο ἄπειρον ἔλεγον τῷ μεγέθει, ὥσπερ Θαλῆς μὲν ὕδωρ, etc.
2 Physics iii. 4, 208 a, 16: of δὲ περὶ φύσεως ἅπαντες ἀεὶ ὑποτιθέασιν ἑτέραν τινὰ φύσιν τῷ ἀπείρῳ τῶν λεγομένων στοιχείων, οἷον ὕδωρ ἢ ἀέρα ἢ τὸ μεταξὺ τούτων.
3 The question there is (loc. cit.) not whether primitive matter is infinite, but whether the infinite is the predicate of a body from which it is distinguished, or is to be held (with Plato and the Pythagoreans) as something self-dependent, existing for itself. Aristotle, therefore, does not say all the Physicists regard primitive matter as infinite, but all give to the infinite some element as substratum; and this he could very well say even if certain physicists had not expressly mentioned the infinity of the first principle. The word ἅπαντες is limited by the context to those Physicists who admit an ἄπειρον.

|220 cont.| and from it forms the world. 1 Aristotle, 2 however, expressly denies that the ancient physiologists, among whom Thales stands first, distinguished the moving cause from matter; or that any other philosopher except Anaxagoras (and, perhaps, before him. Hermotimus) had brought forward the doctrine of an intelligence organising the world. How couid Aristotle have used such language if he had known that Thales named God the reason of the world? But if he did not know it, we may be sure that the assertions of later writers are not based upon historical tradition. Moreover, the doctrine which is attributed to Thales entirely accords with the Stoic theology: 3 the very expression in Stobaeus appears to be borrowed from the Stoic terminology; 4 Clement of Alexandria, 5 and Augustine, 6 distinctly declare that neither Thales nor the physicists |221| who succeeded him regarded God or the Divine Spirit as the framer of the universe, but that Anaxagoras was the first to hold this doctrine.

1 Cicero De Natura Deorum i. 10, 25. Thales…aquam dixit esse initium rerum, Deum autem eam mentem, que ex aqua cuncta fingeret, a statement which, as Krische observes (Forschungen, 39 sq.), is the same in substance, and is apparently taken originally from the same source as that of Stobaeus (Eclogae i. 56): Θαλῆς νοῦν τοῦ κόσμου τὸν θεὸν, and the similar passage in Ps-Plutarch Placita i. 7, 11 (consequently we must not in Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica xiv. 16, 5, read with Gaisford: Θαλῆς τὸν κόσμον εἶναι θεὸν, but νοῦν τοῦ κόσμου θεόν). Athenagoras Supplicatio c. 91; Galen, Historia philosopha, c. 8, p. 251; Kühn.
2 Cicero, loc. cit. cf. Stobaeus, loc. cit.: τὸ δὲ πᾶν ἔμψυχον ἅμα καὶ δαιμόνων πλῆρεξ᾽ διήκειν δὲ καὶ διὰ τοῦ στοιχειώδους ὑὕγροῦ δύναμιν θείαν κινητικὴν αὐτοῦ. Philoponus, De Anima C. 7 u, makes Thales to have said: ὡς ἢ πρόνοια μέχρι τῶν ἐσχάτων διήκει καὶ οὐδὲν αὐτὴν λανθάνει.
3 Metaphysics i. 8, 984 a, 27 b. 10.
4 God is described. for example by Seneca (Naturales Quaestiones prol. 13) as the mens universi; by Cleanthes (vide Tertullian, Apologeticus 21) as the spiritus permeator universi; by Stobaeus, Eclogae i. 178, as δύναμις κινητικὴ τῆς ὕλης; by Diogenes L., vii. 138, as νοῦς, which pervades all things (δέηκειν).
5 Stromata ii. 364 C; cf. Tertullian c. Marc. i. 13, Thales aquam (Deum pronuntiavit).
6 Civitas Dei, viii. 2.

|221 cont.| We may, therefore, certainly conclude that the opposite theory is an error of the post-Aristotelian period, the source of which we shall presently find in some passages of Aristotle. It by no means follows from this that Thales personally believed in no god or gods; 1 but the tradition that credits him with the thesis that God is the oldest of all things, because He has had no beginning, is not very trustworthy. For this assertion is no better attested than the innumerable other apophthegms ascribed to the seven sages, and was probably attributed to Thales originally in some collection of their sayings in the same arbitrary manner that other sayings were attributed to the rest. Moreover, Xenophanes is elsewhere invariably considered as the first who, in opposition to the Hellenic religion, declared the Deity to have had no beginning. According to certain authors, Thales taught that the world is full of gods. This statement is much more probable than the preceding. 2 But what are we to understand by |222| the expression, the diffusion of the soul throughout the universe?

1 Plutarch Septem sapientium convivium c. 9; Diogenes L. i. 35; Stobaeus, Eclogae i. 54. This is no doubt the meaning also of the statements in Clement, Stromata v. 596 A (and Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 1), according to which Thales replied to the question: τί ἐστι τὸ θεῖον; τὸ μὴτε ἀρχὴν μήτε τέλος ἔχον. For immediately after, another saying of Thales is quoted concerning the omniscience of God (the same. given in Diogenes L. 36 and Valer. Max. vii. 2, 8). Consequently, the impersonal θεῖον has here the same significance as the personal θεός. Tertullian (Apologeticus c. 46) transfers Cicero’s story (De Natura Deorum i. 22, 60) about Hiero and Simonides to Croesus and Thales; but this is a mere oversight.
2 Aristotle De Anima i. 5, 411 a 7: καὶ ἐν τῷ ὅλῳ δέ τινες αὐτὴν [τὴν ψυχὴν] μεμῖχθαί φασιν, ὅθεν ἴσως καὶ Θαλῆς ᾧφήθη πάντα πλήρη θεῶν εἶναι. Diogenes L. i. 27: τὸν κόσμον ἔμψυχον καὶ δαιμόνων πλήρη. Similarly Stobaeus (vide supra, p. 220, 2). The same proposition is also applied in a moral sense (Cicero, De Legibus ii. 11, 26).

|222 cont.| Aristotle’s cautious ‘perhaps’ shows us how little such an interpretation is supported by tradition. Indeed, it may safely be asserted that not only later writers, but Aristotle himself, in his own way, ascribed notions to Thales which we have no right to expect from him. That he conceived all things as living, and personified all active forces after the analogy of the human soul, is certainly probable, because this is in harmony with the imaginative view of nature which everywhere, and especially among the Greeks, precedes scientific enquiry: it is, therefore, quite credible that he may (as Aristotle affirms) have attributed a soul to the magnet, 1 on account of its power of attraction—that is to say, regarded it as a living being. In the same manner, doubtless, he conceived his primitive matter as living, so that, like the ancient Chaos, it could beget all things by itself, without the intervention of an organising spirit. It is also entirely consonant with ancient Greek thought that he should see present deities in the forces of nature, and a proof in the life of nature, that nature is full of gods. But we cannot believe that he combined the several powers of nature, and the souls of separate beings, in the notion of a world-soul; for that notion presupposes that the infinite multiplicity of phenomena has become a unity in the conception of the world; and that efficient power |223| is distinguished from matter and conceived as analogous to the human spirit, not only in particular individuals, where this is natural in the simpler stages of opinion, but in the universe generally.

1 De Anima i. 2, 405 a, 19: ἔοικε αὐτὸν καὶ τοῖς ἀψύχοις διδόναι δὲ καὶ Θαλῆς ἐξ ὧν ἀποωνημονεύουσι κινητικόν τι τὴν ψυχὴν ὑπολαβεῖν, εἴπερ τὸν λίθον ἔφη ψυχὴν ἔχειν, ὅτι τὸν σίδηρον κινεῖ, Diogenes L. i. 24: ᾿Αριστοτέλης δὲ καὶ Ἱππίας φασὶν Ψυχὰς τεκμαιρόμενον ἐκ τῆς μαγνήτιδος καὶ τοῦ ἠλέκτρου. Cf. Stobaeus Eclogae i. 758: Θαλῆς καὶ τὰ φυτὰ ἔμψυχα ζῷα.

|223 cont.| Both ideas seem to lie beyond the first narrow limits of early philosophy, and the historical evidence does not justify us in attributing them to Thales. 1 We may conclude, therefore, that while he conceived his primitive matter as living and generative, while he shared the religious faith of his people, and applied it to the consideration of nature, he knew nothing of a world-soul or of a spirit permeating matter and forming the universe. 2
  As to the manner in which things originated from water, Thales seems to be silent, Aristotle certainly says that the physicists, who hold one qualitatively determined primitive matter, make things arise out of it by rarefaction and condensation, 3 but it does not follow that all these philosophers without exception were of that opinion. 4 Aristotle might have used the same form of expression if only the majority had held it, |224| and if it appeared to him the most logical theory of derivation.

1 Ps-Plutarch Placita ii. 1, 2: Θαλῆς καὶ οἱ ἀπʹ αὐτοῦ ἕνα τὸν κόσμον cannot of course be taken as historical evidence.
2 Some such answer must also be given to the question which, in the last century, was so vigorously debated, but which is now almost wholly neglected, whether Thales was a Theist or an Atheist. The truth is no doubt that he was neither one nor the other; neither in his religious faith nor his philosophy; his religion is Greek polytheism, his philosophy is pantheistic hylozoism.
3 Physics i, 4, at the commencement: ὡς δ᾽ οἱ φυσικοὶ λέγουσι δύο τρόποι εἰσίν. οἱ μὲν γὰρ ἐν ποιήσαντες τὸ ὃν σῶμα τὸ ὑποκείμενον…τἄλλα γεννῶσι πυκνότητι καὶ μανότητι πολλὰ ποιοῦντες…οἱ δ᾽ ἐκ τοῦ ἑνὸς ἐνούσας τὰς ἔναντιότητας ἐκκρίνεσθαι, ὥσπερ ᾿Αναξίμανδρός φησιν.
4 Heracleitus, for instance, regarded things as arising out of fire, not by rarefaction and condensation, but by transformation.

|224 cont.| Simplicius 1 is the first who expressly connects Thales with Anaximenes as having adopted this theory; not only, however, does Theophrastus disagree with him, but Simplicius tells us himself that his statement is only based upon the general bearing of Aristotie’s words. 2 What is said by Galen 3 in a passage of doubtful connection, and also by other writers, 4 in a similar strain, is most likely taken from the same source. It is most probable, on the whole, therefore, that Thales never entertained the question, but contented himself with the indefinite notion that things arose or were produced out of water.
  What we hear from other sources about the doctrine of Thales consists merely of isolated empirical observations or conjectures, or else of statements so imperfectly guaranteed that they cannot be considered authentic. The latter holds good not merely of the various mathematical and astronomical discoveries and moral maxims which are attributed to him, 5 of the assertion 6 that the heavenly bodies are glowing masses,

1 Physics 39 a: καὶ οἱ ἕν δὲ καὶ κινούμενον τὴν ἀρχὴν ὑπυθέμενοι, ws Θαλῆς καὶ ᾿Αναξιμένης, μανώσει καὶ πυκνώσει τὴν γένεσιν ποιοῦντε. So 310 a, u, Pseudo-Alex. in Metaphysics 1042 b, 33, p. 518, 7; Bon. and the anonymous Schol. in Aristotle 516 a, 14 b, 14.
2 Simplicius Physics 82 a, u: ἐπὶ γὰρ τούτου μόνου [Ἀναξιμένους] Θεόφραστος ἐν τῇ “στορίᾳ τὴν μάνωσιν εἴρηκε καὶ τὴν πύκνωσιν. (This saying, moreover, ought only to be applied to the ancient Ionians. Theophrastus ascribed also to Diogenes rarefaction and condensation, vide infra): δῆλον δὲ ὡς καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι τῇ μανότητι καὶ πυκνότητι ἐχρῶντο, καὶ γὰρ ᾿Αριστοτέλης περὶ πάντων τούτων εἶπε κοινῶς, etc.
3 Vide supra, p. 218, 2.
4 Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 1; Arnobius Adversus Nationes ii. 10; Philop. Physics C. 1, 14, who, in both passages, so entirely confuses Thales with Anaximenes, that he attributes to Thales the doctrine of air as primitive matter.
5 Cf. p. 120, and p. 218, 3.
6 Ps-Plutarch Placita ii. 18, 1; Achill. Tat. Isag. c. 11.

|225| analogous to the earth, that the moon receives her light from the sun, 1 and so forth; but even of the philosophic doctrines of the unity of the world, 2 the infinite divisibility and variability of matter, 3 the unthinkableness of empty space, 4 the four elements, 5 the mixture of matters, 6 the nature and immortality of the soul. 7 the daemons and the heroes. 8 All these originate with such untrustworthy witnesses, and most of them either directly or indirectly so entirely contradict more credible testimony, that we can attach no value to them whatever. What Aristotle 9 gives as a tradition is more likely to be true,—viz. that Thales supposed the earth |226| to float on the water; for this would harmonise perfectly with the theory of the earth’s origin from water, and easily adapt itself to the old cosmological notions:

1 Ps-Plutarch Placita ii. 28, 3; Plutarch Septem convivium C 15 (ὡς δὲ Θαλῆς λέγει, τῆς γῆς ἀναιρεθείσης σύγχυσιν τὸν ὅλον ἕξειν κόσμον) can hardly be quoted, as the Banquet of Plutarch is not a historical work. Moreover, the meaning is doubtless merely that the annihilation of the earth would (not will at some time) be followed by a destruction of the whole universe.
2 Ps-Plutarch Placita Philosophorum ii. 1, 2.
3 Ps-Plutarch Placita Philosophorum i. 9, 2; Stobaeus Eclogae i. 318, 348.
4 Stobaeus i. 378, where the older reading, ἐπέγνωσαν, recommended above by Röth, Geschichte unserer abendländischen philosophie {History of our Western Philosophy} ii. 6, 7, is grammatically inadmissible.
5 According to the fragment of the spurious writing, περὶ ἀρχῶν (Galen, vide supra, b. 216, 2), and perhaps also Heraclit. Alleg. Hom. c. 22, the four elements are expressly reduced to water. It will hereafter be shown that Empedocles was the first to establish four as the number of the material elements.
6 Stobaeus i. 368. In the parallel passage of Ps-Plutarch’s Placita Philosophorum, i. 17, 1, Thales is not named: of ἀρχαῖοι is the expression used, which is evidently more correct, and was probably the original expression of Plutarch.
7 According to Ps-Plutarch (Placita iv. 2, 1) and Nemes. (Nat. hom. c. 2, p. 28), he described the soul as φύσις ἀεικίνητος ἢ αὐτοκίνητος; according to Theodoret, Graecorum affectionum curatio v. 18, p. 72, as φύσις ἀκίνητος (where, however, ἀεικίνητος possibly ought to be read); an interpolation to which the passage of Aristotle quoted above doubtless gave occasion. Tertullian, De An. c. 5 attributes to Thales and to Hippo the theorem that the soul is composed of water. Philoponus, De An. c. 7, restricts this to Hippo, while, in another passage, De An. A 4, he ascribes it both to Hippo and Thales. Choerilus ap. Diogenes L. i. 24, and Suidas, Θαλῆς, says that he was the first to profess belief in immortality.
8 Athenag. Supplic. c. 23; Ps-Plutarch Placita i. 8.
9 Metaphysics i. 3, 983 b, 21; De Caelo, ii. 13, 294 a, 29.

|226 cont.| We may also connect with it the further statement 1 that he explained earthquakes by the movement of the water. This last assertion, however, seems to rest entirely on one of the writings falsely ascribed to Thales, and doubtless the ultimate source of other doctrines that have been attributed to him. The statement of Aristotle is better attested, but we gain little information, even from him, as to the doctrine of Thales as a whole. 2 All that we know of it may, in fact, be reduced to the proposition that water is the matter out of which everything arises and consists. The reasons that determined him to this theory can only now be conjectured; how he more closely defined the process of the origination of things from water is also very uncertain; but it is most probable that he considered primitive matter, like nature in general, to be animate, and that he held to the indeterminate conception of beginning or generation, without defining this as brought about by the rarefaction or condensation of the primitive matter.
  However meagre and insignificant this theory may seem, it was, at least, an attempt to explain phenomena by one general natural principle, and in this light it was of the highest importance; we find that a series of |227| more extended enquiries are directly connected with those of Thales, and that even his immediate successor was able to attain much more considerable results.

1 Ps-Plutarch Placita iii. 15, 1; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 1; Seneca Naturales Quaestiones vi. 6; iii. 14. The last, however, seems to refer to a treatise falsely attributed to Thales.
2 On the other hand, this theory militates against the supposition (Ps-Plutarch Placita iii. 10) that he held the earth to be spherical, a conception which is foreign to Anaximander and Anaximenes, and even to Anaxagoras and Diogenes.

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ii. Anaximander 1

  Whereas Thales had declared water to be the primitive matter of all things, Anaximander 2 defined this original |228| element as the infinite, or the unlimited. 1a

1 Schleiermacher, Ueber Anaximandros (1811; Werke, Philos. i. 171 sqq.); Teichmüller, Studien zur Gesch. der Begr. 1-70. I regret that I cannot make use of Lyng’s treatise, ‘On den Ioniske Naturphilosophi, isaer Anaximanders’ {On the Ionian Natural Philosophers, especially Anaximander} Abdruck aus den Vid. Selskabets Forhandlinger {Reprint from the Proceedings of the Vid. Society} for 1866, as I am not acquainted with the language {Danish} in which it is written.
2 Anaximander was a fellow-citizen of Thales, and also his pupil and successor, according to later authorities (Sextus Empiricus Outlines of Pyrrhonism, iii. 30; Adversos Mathematicos ix. 360; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium i. 6; Simplicius Physics 6 a, m; Suidas, etc.; this is likewise implied by the epithet ἑταῖρος. ap. Simplicius De Caelo, 273 b, 38; Scholium in Aristotle 514 a, 28; Plutarch ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8, 1; of Sodalis in Cicero, Academica ii. 37, 118; of γνώριμος, in Strabo, i. 1, 11, p. 7; and the latter is actually interchanged with μαθητὴς, ibid. xiv. 1, 7, p. 635). According to Apollodorus (Diogenes L. ii. 2) he was sixty-four years old in the second year of the 58th Olympiad, 546-7 BC, and died soon afterwards, so that his birth must have occurred in Ol. 42, 2 (611 BC), or, as Hippolytus (Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 6) thinks, in Ol. 42, 3. Pliny (Historia Naturalis ii. 8, 3) says he discovered the inclination of the zodiac. The worth of these statements we cannot certainly estimate; but there is much to be said for the conjecture of Diels (Rhein-Museum xxxi. 24) that Anaximander gave his age in his own work as sixty-four; that Apollodorus (who, according to Diogenes, had this work in his hands), following some internal evidence, calculated that the work was written in Ol. 58, 2; and that the statement of Pliny is based on the same calculation, inasmuch as he found mention of the obliquity of the ecliptic in this work. But Diogenes adds, as a quotation from Apollodorus: ἀκμάσαντά πη μάλιστα κατὰ Πολυκράτην τὸν Σάμου τύραννον, which is rather surprising, as Anaximander was considerably older than Polycrates, and died about 22 years before him. Yet we need not, with Diels, loc. cit., assume that these words originally related to Pythagoras (whose ἀκμὴ certainly falls under Polycrates, as he is said to have emigrated in his reign when forty years old), for they are also to be explained as the inexact reproduction of an observation of Apollodorus respecting Anaximander. I am inclined to suspect that Apollodorus, in order to get a synchronistic date after the manner of ancient chronologists, had made the ἀκμὴ of this philosopher (πη) pretty nearly coincide with the commencement of the tyranny of Polycrates, which is |228| generally placed in the third year of the 53rd Olympiad, and in the 44th year of Anaximander’s life. Eusebius (Chronicon) assigns Anaximander to the 51st Olympiad. Nothing is known of his personal history, but the statement (Aelian, Varia Historia iii. 17) of his being the leader of the Milesian colony in Apollonia indicates that he filled a distinguished position in his native place. His book, περὶ φύσεως: is said to have been the first philosophical writing of the Greeks (Diogenes L. ii. 2; Themist. Orat. xxvi. p. 317 C. When Clement, Stromata i. 808 C, says the same of the work of Anaxagoras, he is evidently confusing him with Anaximander). Brandis rightly observes, however (i. 125), that according to Diogenes, loc. cit., the work must have been rare, even in Apollodorus’s time, and Simplicius can only have known it through the quotations of Theophrastus and others. Suidas mentions several writings of Anaximander’s, but this is doubtless a misunderstanding; on the other hand, a map of the world is attributed to him (Diogenes L. loc. cit.; Strabo, loc. cit. after Eratosthenes; Agathemerus, Geogr. Inf. 1). Eudemus, ap. Simplicius De Caelo, 212 a, 12 (Schol. in Aristotle 497 a, 10) says he was the first who tried to determine the sizes and distances of the heavenly bodies. The invention of the sundial was ascribed to Anaximander by Diogenes L. ii. 1, and Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica x. 14, 7; and to Anaximenes by Pliny, Naturalis Historia ii. 76, 187, in both cases erroneously, as is probable; for the Invention, according to Herodotus ii. 109, was introduced into Greece by the Babylonians; but it is possible that one of these philosophers may have erected in Sparta the first sundial ever seen there.
1a Aristotle Physics iii. 4, 203 b, 10 sqq.; Simplicius Physics 6 a, and many others; see the following note (2 below).

|228 cont.| By the infinite, however, he did not understand, 2 like Plato and the Pythagoreans, an incorporeal element, the essence of which consists exclusively in infinity; but an infinite matter: the infinite is not subject but predicate, it designates not infinity as such, but an object to which the quality of being infinite belongs. It is in this sense only, says Aristotle, 3 that all the physicists |229| speak of the infinite;

2 As Schleiermacher, loc. cit. p. 176 sq., exhaustively proves.
3 Physics iii. 4, 203 a, 2: πάντες ὡς ἀρχήν τινὰ τιθέασι τῶν ὄντων [τὸ ἄπειρον], οἱ μὲν ὥσπερ οἱ Πυθαγόρειοι καὶ Πλάτων, καθ᾽ αὑτὸ, οὐχ ὡς συμβεβηκός τινι ἑτέρῳ, ἀλλ᾽ οὐσίαν αὐτὸ ὃν τὸ ἄπειρον….οἱ δὲ περὶ φύσεως ἅπαντες ἀεὶ ὑποτιθέασιν ἑτέραν τινὰ φύσιν τῷ ἀπείρῳ τῶν λεγομένων στοιχείων, οἷον ὕδωρ ἢ ἀέρα ἢ τὸ μεταξὺ τούτων. Cf. Metaphysics x. 2, 1053 b, 15. According to the theory of the Physicists the ἕν was not itself a substance, but had some φύσις for its substratum, ἐκείνων γὰρ ὁ μέν τις Φιλίαν εἶναί φησι τὸ ἕν ὁ δ᾽ ἀέρα, ἦ δὲ (Anaximander) τὸ ἄπειρον.

|229 cont.| and among the physicists he unquestionably reckons Anaximander. 1 According to the unanimous testimony of later authors, 2 Anaximander’s main argument for his theory was that the infinite, and the infinite alone, does not exhaust itself in constantly producing. This is the very argument that Aristotle quotes 3 as the chief ground for maintaining an infinite corporeal matter; and he does so in speaking of the theory which we recognise as Anaximander’s, viz. that the infinite is a body distinct from the determinate elements. From the infinite, Anaximander (whom Aristotle for that reason places beside Empedocles and Anaxagoras) derived particular kinds of matter, and the world which is compounded of them, by means of separation 4 (Ausscheidung), a doctrine which would be impossible unless the infinite were itself something material. Lastly, though it is difficult to discover how this philosopher precisely defined his infinite, all testimony is agreed as to its corporeal nature; and among the passages of Aristotle which possibly may refer to Anaximander, and of which some must of necessity refer to him, there is none which does not imply this corporeal nature. 5 That he

1 Cf. loc. cit. p. 203 b 13; vide infra.
2 Cicero Academica ii. 37, 118; Simplicius De Caelo, 273 b, 38; Schol. 514 a, 28; Philop. Physics L, 12 m; Ps-Plutarch Placita, i. 3, 4, and to the same effect Stobaeus Eclogae i. 292 λέγει οὗνδιὰ τί ἄπειρόν ἐστιν; ἵνα μηδὲν ἐλλείπη, ἣ γένεσις ἢ ὑφισταμένη.
3 Physics iii. 8, 208, a, 8: οὔτε γὰρ 'ίνα ἢ γένεσις μὴ ἐπιλείπη, ἀναγκαῖον ἐνεργείᾳ ἄπειρον εἶναι σῶμα αἰσθητόν, cf. c. 4, 208 b, 18, and Ps-Plutarch loc. cit.
4 Vide inf. p. 234, 3, and p. 250.
5 In our text of Simplicius Physics 32 b, 0, we have: ἐνούσας τὰς ἐναντιότητας ἐν τῷ ὑὕὑποκειμένῳ ἀπείρῳ ὄντι ἀσώματι ἐκκρίνεσθαί φησιν ᾿Αναξίμανδρος. Instead of ἀσώματι Schleiermacher, loc. cit. 178, proposes to read σώματι, Brandis (Gr. Röm. Phil. i. 130) prefers ἀσωμάτῳ; but this could only be admitted on the supposition that Simplicius by the ἀσώματον here understood that which is not as yet formed into any determinate body. Meanwhile σώματι is not merely better sense, but it has also in its favour that Simplicius in the previous context (p. 32 a, Schol. in Ar. 334 b, 18) has been speaking of Anaximander’s σῶμα τὸ ὑποκείμενον; and similarly Aristotle in the passage immediately preceding the one here in question, Physics i. 4, 187 a, 13, speaks of the σῶμα τὸ ὑποκείμενον, and elsewhere (vide previous note) of the ἄπειρον σῶμα αἰσθητόν. These words signify: ‘In the primitive matter conceived; as ἄπειρον σῶμα.’

|230| intended therefore to designate by the infinite a matter infinite as to its mass, cannot be doubted; 1 and it is |231| probably in this sense that we should understand the expression ἄπειρον. 1a He was induced, as we have seen, to determine primitive matter in this way, chiefly by the consideration that primitive matter must be infinite to be able continually to produce from itself new essences.

1 Michelis (De Anax. Infinito. Ind. lect. Braunsberg, 1874) indeed asserts the contrary in the tone of one who holds his own infallibility to be indisputable. His arguments, however, seem to me insufficient. He maintains that Aristotle, in a passage never hitherto understood (Physics iii. 4, 204 a, 2 sq.), distinguishes the positive infinite or absolute from the negative infinite, which relates only to the corporeal and the sensible, the former being what Anaximander meant by his ἄπειρον. But the passage contains no trace of any such distinction, nor has any writer previously discovered such; it only says that we may either call that an ἄπειρον, the measuring of which can never be completed; or that which does not allow of being measured: τῷ μὴ πεφυκέναι διϊέναι, ὥσπερ ἣ φωνὴ ἄορατος; in other words (cf. c. 5, 204 a, 12), that which does not fall under the conception of magnitude, and, therefore, can as little be measured or, consequently, limited, as the voice can be conceived of as visible. So understood, the expression ἄπειρον has nothing at all to do with the Absolute as such: the ἄπειρον in this sense coincides much more with that of which it is said (Physics iii. 4, beginning) that it can neither be called ἄπειρον (in the ordinary sense), nor πεπερασμένον, as, for istance, the point or the πάθος. Michelis himself is forced to allow (p. 7 sq.) that Aristotle never again mentions this ‘positive infinite.’ How little Aristotle ever thought of it, Michelis might have seen had he studied the passage in Physics i. 2, 185 a, 32 sqq., where, without any restriction, it is asserted of the ἄπειρον generally, and not of any particular kind of ἄπειρον, that it is to be found only ἐν τῷ ποσῷ, οὐσίαν δὲ ἄπειρον εἶναι ἢ ποιότητα ἢ πάθος οὐκ ἐνδέχεται εἰ μὴ κατὰ συμβεβηκὸς, εἰ ἅμα καὶ ποσὰ ἄττα εἶεν, for the Absolute is οὐσία, if it is anything; and such an οὐσία that the ποσὸν cannot, not even κατὰ σνιιβεβηκὸς, belong to it. The conception of the Absolute and that of the ἄπειρον, according to Aristotle’s view, plainly exclude one another; for the Absolute is the perfected energy, pure and simple; the ἄπειρον, on the contrary, is what is always unperfected, always δυνάμει, never ἐνεργείᾳ (Physics iii. 5, 204 a, 20 c. 6. 206 b, 34 sqq; Metaphysics ix. 6, 1048 b, 14), which, consequently, can be only material cause, and is never employed in any other sense (Physics iii. 7, 207, 4, 84 sqq.; cf. c. 6, 206 a, 18 b, 13). Aristotle, unquestionably therefore, neither himself thought of an immaterial ἄπειρον, nor attributed it to Anaximander. Even in respect of that ἄπειρον, which Michelis wrongly regards as his ‘positive Infinite,’ he says expressly, Physics iii. 5, 204 a, 13: ἀλλ᾽ οὐχ οὕτως οὔτε φασὶν εἶναι of φάσκοντες εἶναι τὸ ἄπειρον οὔτε ἡμεῖς ζητοῦμεν, ἀλλ᾽ ὡς ἀδιέξοδον. As little can it be said that Aristotle, at any rate, did not ascribe to Anaximander’s ἄπειρον, a corporeal materiality, for he manifestly does so in the passages quoted, p. 228, 3, and p. 229, 3. Michelis’s argument (p. 11), that the passage in Metaphysics x. 2, 1053 b, 15 (vide supra, p. 228, 3) identifies Anaximander with Empedocles (it also identifies him with Anaximenes), and that, according to my view, the same opinion is ascribed to him as to Melissus, proves nothing. We cannot conclude that because the φιλία of Empedocles is not a corporeal matter that therefore Anaximander’s ἄπειρον is none; nor can it be pronounced impossible that Melissus should have been led to a determination of Being, which brought him into contact with Anaximander, as Plato was brought with the Pythagoreans by his doctrine of the Unlimited. In fine (p. 11), Aristotle, of whose words, moreover (Physics iii. 4, 203 b, 4), Michelis has a wrong conception, must himself, according to this writer, have distorted Anaximander’s doctrine; and all other authorities, especially Theophrastus, in his utterance, quoted p. 233, 1, must be held guilty of the same thing. From this point, however, all possibility of any historic demonstration is at an end, and Michelis substitutes for it a simple sic volo, sic Jubeo.
1a Strümpell (Gesch. der theor. Phil. der Gr. 29); Seydel (Fortschritt der Metaphysics innerhalb der Schule dis Ion. Bylozoismus, Leipzig, 1860, p. 10); and Teichmüller (Studien zur Gesch, der Begr. 7, 57) believe that the ἄπειρον means with Anaximander that which is qualitatively indeterminate, as distinguished from determinate substances. But the word seems to have first received this signification from the Pythagoreans, and even with them it isa derived signification; the original meaning is ‘the Unlimited’ (only that the Unlimited, as applied to numbers, is that which sets no limit to division nor to augmentation, vide infra, Pyth.). For Anaximander this signification results partly from the same cause that he assigns for the ἀπειρία of primitive matter (viz., that it would otherwise be exhausted); and partly from this consideration, that it is precisely because of its infinity that the ἄπειρον can embrace all things.

|231 cont.| It was easy for Aristotle to show (loc. cit.) |232| that this proof is not conclusive; but it might nevertheless have appeared sufficient to the unpractised thought of the earliest philosophers, 1 and we must at any rate allow that Anaximander, by maintaining the theory, first raised an important question in philosophy.
  So far there is little room for disagreement; but opinions are greatly divided as to the more precise meaning of Anaximander’s primitive matter. The ancients are pretty nearly unanimous in asserting that it did not coincide with either of the four elements: 2 according to some it was not a determinate body at all, others describe it as intermediate between water and air, or again between air and fire; while a third account represents it as a mixture of all particular kinds of matter; a mixture in which these have been always contained, as distinct and determinate, so that they can be evolved from it by mere separation, without any change in their constitution. This last theory has formed the basis in modern times 3 of the assertion |233| that among the earlier, no less than among the later Ionic philosophers, there were two classes—the Dynamists and the Mechanists—i.e. those who derived all things from one primitive matter by means of a vital transformation, and those who derived them from a multiplicity of unchanging primitive matters by means of separation and combination in space.

1 The same mistake, however, was made by Melissus, and afterwards by the Atomist, Metrodorus; vide infra, Melissus and Metrodorus.
2 Authorities will presently be given. The Pseudo-Aristotelian writing, De Melisso, etc., c. 2, 975 b, 22, alone maintains that his primitive matter is water (vide infra) and in Sextus, Adversos Mathematicos x. 313, it is said that he made all things arise, ἐξ ἑνὸς καὶ ποιοῦ, namely, air. But although his name is twice mentioned, it seems very probable that the statement may have sprung from the erroneous substitution of Anaximander for Anaximenes, repeated by acopyist from the text of Sextus, or some other author whom he was transcribing. In the Outlines of Pyrrhonism, iii. 30 he gives a correct account of both these Philosophers.
3 Ritter, Gesch. der Ion. Phil. p. 174 sqq., and Gesch, der Phil. i. 201 sq., 283 sqq., where his former concession that Anaxagoras held things to be contained in primitive matter only as to their germ and capability, and not as distinct from each other, is virtually retracted.

|233 cont.| To the first belong Thales and Anaximenes, Heracleitus and Diogenes; to the second, Anaximander, with Anaxagoras and Archelaus. We will now examine this theory, since it has an important bearing not only on the doctrine before us, but also on the whole history of ancient Philosophy.
  Much may be said in its behalf. Simplicius 1 appears to ascribe the same view to Anaximander which we find in Anaxagoras, viz. that in the separation of matters from the infinite, kindred elements become united, gold particles with gold particles, earth with earth, and so on, these different and distinct kinds of |234| matter having been already contained in the original mass. His authority for this statement is supposed to be Theophrastus.

1 Physics 6 b, u; after a description of Anaxagoras’s doctrine of the primitive elements, he proceeds thus: καὶ ταῦτά φησιν ὁ Θεόφραστος παραπλησίως τῷ ᾿Αναξιμάνδρῳ λέγειν τὸν ᾿Αναξαγόραν. ἐκεῖνος γάρ φησιν ἐν τῇ διακρίσει τοῦ ἀπείρυυ τὰ συγγενῆ φέρεσθαι πρὸς ἄλληλα, καὶ ὅ τι μὲν ἐν τῷ παντὶ χρυσὸς ἦν, γίνεσθαι χρυσὸν, ὅ τι δὲ γῆ γῆν, ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἕκαστον, ὡς οὐ γινομένων GAN ὑπαρχόντων πρότερον. Cf. p. 51 b, u: οἱ δὲ πολλὰ μὲν ἐνυπάρχοντα δὲ ἐκκρίνεσθαι ἔλεγον τὴν γένεσιν ἀναιροῦντες, ὡς ᾿Αναξίμανδρος καὶ ᾿Αναξαγόρας. τῆς δὲ κινήσεως καὶ τῆς γενέσεως αἴτιον ἐπέστησε τὸν νοῦν ὁ ‘Αναξαγόρας ὑϕʹ οὗ διακρινόμενα τούς τε κόσμους καὶ τὴν τῶν ἄλλων φύσιν ἐγέννησαν. ‘Καὶ οὕτω μέν, φησι, λαμβανόντων δόξειεν ἂν ὁ ᾿Αναξαγόρας τὰς μὲν ὑλικὰς ἀρχὰς ἀπείρους ποιεῖν, τὴν δὲ τῆς κινήσεως καὶ τῆς γενέσεως αἰτίαν μίαν τὸν νοῦν εἰ δέ τις τὴν μῖξιν τῶν ἁπάντων ὑπολάβοι μίαν εἶναι φύσιν ἀόριστον καὶ κατ᾽ εἶδος καὶ κατὰ μέγεθος, συμβαίνει δύο τὰς ἀρχὰς αὐτὸν λέγειν, τὴν τοῦ ἀπείρου φύσιν καὶ τὸν νοῦν’ ὥστε φαίνεται τὰ σωματικὰ στοιχεῖα παραπλησίως ποιῶν ᾿Αναξιμάνδρῳ᾽ The same words are quoted by Simplicius, p. 33 a, as borrowed from Theophrastus’s φυσικὴ ἱστορία.

|234 cont.| We meet with the same view, however, elsewhere, 1 and Aristotle seems to justify it when he describes Anaximander’s primitive matter as a mixture. 2 He also expressly mentions him as one of the philosophers who thought particular kinds of matter were developed from the one primitive matter, not by rarefaction and condensation, but by separation. 3 This proves, apparently beyond question, that Aristotle himself conceived this primitive matter of Anaximander as analogous to that of Anaxagoras; for that which has to be separated from matter must previously have been contained in it. But these reasons, on closer inspection, are very insufficient. 4 In regard to the Aristotelian passages, Aristotle himself tells us 5 that he uses the expressions ‘separated’ and ‘contained,’ not only where one kind of matter is contained in another |235| actually, but potentially;

1 Sidonius Apollinaris, Carm. xv. 83 sqq., according to Augustine, Civ. Dei viii. 2; Philoponus, Physics C, 4. In Ireneus C. haer. ii. 14. 2, it is not clear what conception of the ἄπειρον he means: ‘Anaximander autem hoc quod immensum est omnium initium subjecit (ὑπέθετο) seminaliter habens in semetipso omnium genesin.’
2 Metaphysics xii. 2, 1069 b, 20: καὶ τοῦτ᾽ ἐστι τὸ ᾿Αναξαγόρου ἕν καὶ Ἐμπεδοκλέους τὸ μῖγμα καὶ ᾿Αναξιμάνδρου.
3 Physics i. 4: ὡς δ᾽ οἱ φυσικοὶ λέγουσι δύο τρόποι εἰσίν. οἱ μὲν γὰρ ἐν ποιήσαντες τὸ ὃν σῶμα τὺ ὑποκείμενον, ἢ τῶν τριῶν (Water, Air, Fire) τι, ἢ ἄλλο, 6 ἐστι πυρὺς μὲν πυκνότερον ἀέρος δὲ λεπτότερον, τἄλλα γεννῶσι πυκνότητι καὶ μανότητι πολλὰ ποιοῦντες…οἱ δ᾽ ἐκ τοῦ ἑνὸς ἐνούσας τὰς ἐναντιότητας ἐκκρίνεσθαι, ὥσπερ ᾿Αναξίμανδρός φησι καὶ ὅσοι δ᾽ ἕν καὶ πολλά φασι" εἶναι ὥσπερ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς καὶ ᾿Αναξαγόρας᾽ ἐκ τοῦ μίγματος γὰρ καὶ οὗτοι ἐκκρίνουσι τἄλλα.
4 Cf. Schleiermacher, op. cit. p. 190 sq.; Brandis, Rhein-Museum of Niebuhr and Brandis, iii. 114 sqq.; Gr. Röm. Phil. i. 132 sq.
5 De Caelo, iii. 3, 302 a, 15: ἔστω δὴ στοιχεῖον τῶν σωμάτων, εἰς ὃ τἄλλα σώματα διαιρεῖται, ἐνυπάρχον δυνάμει ἢ ἐνεργείᾳ…ἐν μὲν γὰρ σαρκὶ ξύλῳ καὶ ἑκάστῳ τῶν τοιούτων ἔνεστι δυνάμει πῦρ καὶ γῆ φανερὰ γὰρ ταῦτα ἐξ ἐκείνων ἐκκρινόμενα.

|235 cont.| therefore, when he says that Anaximander represents the particular substances as separating themselves from the primitive matter, it does not at all follow that they were, as these definite substances, included within it. The primitive matter can be equally conceived as the indeterminate essence out of which the determinate is ultimately developed by a qualitative change. As to the comparison of Anaximander with Anaxagoras and Empedocles, it may as easily refer to a remote as to a particular resemblance between their doctrines, 1 and it is the former kind of |236| reference that is intended.

1 In the passage just quoted, Physics i. 4, Aristotle distinguishes those philosophers who place primitive matter in a determinate body from Anaximander and those, ὅσοι ἐν καὶ πολλά φασιν, who maintain that the ἕν (the primitive matter) is at the same time one and many, because it is an assemblage of many substances qualitatively distinct. We may indeed question whether Anaximander is to be counted among these latter; the words, καὶ ὅσοι δ᾽, are not conclusive against it; since they may not only be explained, ‘and similarly those,’ etc., but also, and ‘generally speaking, those.’ But (cf. Seydel loc. cit. p. 13) in the subsequent passage, ἐκ τοῦ μίγματος, etc., the καὶ οὗτοι cannot include Anaximander, for he is the only person with whom the οὗτοι (through the καὶ) can be compared, since he alone, not the ἕν ποιήσαντες τὸ ὃν σῶμα, taught an ἔκκρισις of the ἐναντιότητες out of the ἕν. If so, however, the philosophers, ὅσοι ἐν καὶ πολλά φασιν εἶναι, while they were likened with Anaximander in regard to the ἔκκρισις, are at the same time discriminated from him in another respect; he cannot, therefore, be counted among those who consider primitive matter to be ἕν καὶ πολλά, and he did not conceive it as a mass of various matters, retaining their qualitative differences in the mixture. Büsgen (Ueber d. ἄπειρον Anaximanders, Wiesbaden, 1867, p. 4 sq.) thinks that in this passage Anaximander must be reckoned among those who admit the ἕν καὶ πολλὰ, as there would otherwise be no contrast between him and those who assume one uniform first principle (Anaximenes, etc.); but he misconceives the train of ideas. Anaximander is not placed with Empedocles and Anaxagoras in an opposition to Anaximenes and others, in regard to the Unity or Plurality of primitive substances, but in regard to the manner in which things proceed from them (rarefaction and condensation or separation); it is, however, at the same time pointed out how Anaximander differs from these two philosophers; and subsequently how they differ from one another. Büsgen’s attempt (p. 6) to press into his service Physics i, 2, sub init., and i. 5, sub init. is also a mistake; for in the first of these passages Anaximander, if he were named at all, would be ranked among those who assume a μία ἀρχὴ κινουμένη: and the second does not aim at a complete enumeration of the different systems: Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and the Pythagoreans, are none of them mentioned, and it is only in a forced manner that Heracleitus can be brought in under the category of those who hold the rarefaction and condensation of primitive matter.

|236 cont.| In the same way Anaximander’s primitive matter might be called μῖγμα, or at any rate might be loosely included under this expression (which primarily relates to Empedocles and Anaxagoras), without ascribing to Anaximander the theory of an original mixture of all particular matters in the specific sense of the phrase. 1 We cannot therefore prove that Aristotle ascribed this doctrine to him.

1 Separation corresponds to mixing (τῶν γὰρ αὐτῶν μῖξίς ἐστι καὶ χωρισμός, as it said in Metaphysics i. 8. 989 b, 4; a passage well worth comparing with the one before us); if all things arose by separation from the primitive matter, this matter was previously a mixture of all things. In the same way, therefore, that Aristotle can speak of a separation or division, when the separated elements were only potentially contained in the primitive matter, he can likewise, in the same case, speak of a mixture. It is not the least necessary that the μῖγμα should first have been brought about by a meeting together of the particular substances, as Büsgen (p. 3, 7, 11 sq. of the treatise mentioned in the preceding note) seems to assume in regard to the ἄπειρον of Anaximander; this, indeed, is absolutely incompatible with the concept of primitive matter, of the Eternal and the Unbecome. In considering the above-mentioned passage, it must also be observed that here the μῖγμα is primarily ascribed to Empedocles, and only in the second place to Anaximander, by the addition καί ᾿Αναξιμάνδρου, We might here admit a slight zeugma, so that the word, which in its full power could only be used of Empedocles, might be applied in its general conception (Unity including in itself a Multiplicity) to Anaximander, and this is all the more justifiable, since the passage belongs to a section of Aristotle which (perhaps because it was originally a draft intended for his own use) is unequalled among all his writings for scant expression, and in which the proper meaning of the author is often only discoverable by completing thoughts which he has scarcely indicated.

|236 cont.| Nor does Theophrastus; he expressly says that Anaxagoras |237| can only be held to agree with Anaximander on the subject of primitive matter if we attribute to him as his original principle a matter without definite qualities (μία φύσις ἀόριστος), instead of a mixture of determinate and qualitatively distinct substances. 1 That the doctrine of Anaxagoras might ultimately be reduced to this theory, which is certainly divergent from its primary sense, had already been remarked by Aristotle. 2 Theophrastus 3 drew the same inference, and makes his comparison of Anaxagoras with Anaximander contingent on its admission. This shows that he ascribed to Anaximander a primitive matter in which no particular qualities of bodies were as yet present, not a matter that comprehended all particular substances as such within itself. Besides, the text in question does not attribute this latter doctrine to Anaximander; for the words to which this meaning is ascribed 4 refer to Anaxagoras. 5 Moreover these words are not given by |238| Simplicius as a quotation from Theophrastus, but as an expression of his own opinion. This may be based upon the testimony of Theophrastus, and the conjecture is in itself probable enough.

1 In the words quoted between inverted commas, p. 233, 1, ‘Καὶ οὕτω μέν, φησι, λαμβανόντων δόξειεν ἂν ὁ ᾿Αναξαγόρας τὰς μὲν ὑλικὰς ἀρχὰς ἀπείρους ποιεῖν, τὴν δὲ τῆς κινήσεως καὶ τῆς γενέσεως αἰτίαν μίαν τὸν νοῦν εἰ δέ τις τὴν μῖξιν τῶν ἁπάντων ὑπολάβοι μίαν εἶναι φύσιν ἀόριστον καὶ κατ᾽ εἶδος καὶ κατὰ μέγεθος, συμβαίνει δύο τὰς ἀρχὰς αὐτὸν λέγειν, τὴν τοῦ ἀπείρου φύσιν καὶ τὸν νοῦν’ ὥστε φαίνεται τὰ σωματικὰ στοιχεῖα παραπλησίως ποιῶν ᾿Αναξιμάνδρῳ᾽ The same words are quoted by, the only passage that Simplicius there cites textually from him.
2 Metaphysics i. 8, 989 a, 30; cf. ibid. xii. 2, 1069 b, 21.
3 Τὸν ’Αναξαγόραν εἰς τὸν ’Αναξίμανδυον συνωθῶν, as it is said in Simplicius Physics 33 a.
4 Simp. loc. cit. from ἐκεῖνος γὰρ to ὑπαρχόντων, where Brandis (Gr. Röm. Phil. i. 13) sees a statement about Anaximander emanating from Theophrastus.
5 These words may certainly refer to Anaximander, but they may also refer to Anaxagoras; for though ἐκεῖνος usually points to the more remote, it very often applies to the nearer of two previously named subjects, cf. e.g. Plato, Politicus 303 B; Phaedrus 231 C, 233 A, E; Aristotle Metaphysics i. 4, 985 a, 14 sq.; Sextus Outlines of Pyrrhonism, i. 213. That this is only possible when the idea indicated by ἐκεῖνος and nearer in order of words is farther in the thought of the author I cannot admit (Kern, Beitr. zur Darstellung der Phil. des Xenophanes, Danzig, 1871, p. 11: Büsgen’s observations on the same subject, and on the ἄπειρον of Anaximander, I must pass over). When, for example, Aristotle says (Metaphysics xii. 7, 1072 b, 22): τὰ γὰρ δεκτικὸν τοῦ νοητοῦ καὶ τῆς οὐσίας νοῦς· ἐνεργεῖ δὲ ἔχων. ὥστ᾽ ἐκεῖνο (the ἔχειν and ἐνεργεῖν, actual thought) μᾶλλον τούτου (in a higher degree than the mere faculty of thinking) ὃ δοκεῖ ὁ νοῦς θεῖον ἔχειν;—ἐκεῖνο relates not merely to what is the nearer in order of words, but also to the principal idea; τούτου to what is farther, and is only introduced in a comparison with it. When (ibid. x. 2, beginning) it is asked whether the ἐν is a self-dependent substance, as the Pythagoreans and Plato think, ἢ μᾶλλον ὑπόκειταί τις φύσις, καὶ πῶς δεῖ γνωριμωτέρως λεχθῆναι καὶ μᾶλλον ὥσπερ οἱ περὶ φύσεως: ἐκείνων γάρ, and so forth (vide supra, p. 228, 3), it, cannot be supposed that the physicists to which the ἐκείνων refers, are farther from Aristotle’s thought than the Pythagoreans and Plato, Similarly in the Phaedrus, 233 E, the προσαιτοῦντες, to which ἐκεῖνοι relates, are not only the nearest mentioned term, but also the leading idea. Still less could we expect to find this rule of Kern’s scrupulously carried out by so recent a writer as Simplicius. In this case it is not Anaximander, but Anaxagoras, of whom he primarily speaks. If ἐκεῖνος be referred to Anaximander, we make Simplicius say: 1. According to Theophrastus Anaxagoras’s doctrine of primitive substances is similar to that of Anaximander. 2. Anaximander admitted that particular substances were contained as such in the ἄπειρον, and were moved in regard to one another when the process of separation took place. 3. But motion and separation were derived (not by Anaximander, but) by Anaxagoras from νοῦς. 4. Anaxagoras. therefore, seems to assume an infinity of primitive substances, and one moving force, νοῦς, 5. If, however, we substitute for the mixture consisting of many substances (i.e. the theory which, according to this explanation, belonged to Anaximander) a simple homogeneous mass, the theory of Anaxagoras would harmonise with that of Anaximander. Of these five propositions, the second would stand in no sort of connection with the third and fourth, and would be in striking contradiction to the fifth; and in the fourth, the inference that Anaxagoras therefore believed in an infinity of matters, has no foundation in the preceding proposition: ἐκεῖνος, therefore, can only be Anaxagoras. Even the ἄπειρον, of which this ἐκεῖνος is said to have spoken, forms no obstacle, for Anaxagoras (vide 879, German text) maintained the ἀπειρία of primitive substance very decidedly; and Kern is surprised that the expression, ἄπειρον, generally used to describe Anaximander’s primitive matter, should designate that of Anaxagoras, but this passage shows (cf. also Metaphysics i. 7, 988 a, 2, where Aristotle applies to his doctrine the expression ἀπειρία τῶν στοιχείων, as Kern himself observes) how little we need regard that difficulty. Theophrastus directly reduces the primitive substances of Anaxagoras to the φύσις τοῦ ἀπείρου.

|238 cont.| But it can only be maintained |239| so long as it opposes nothing that demonstrably comes from Theophrastus. Schleiermacher (loc. cit. 180 sq.) and Brandis (Gr. Röm Phil. i. 125.) have conclusively shown that Simplicius had no accurate and independent knowledge of Anaximander’s doctrine, and that his utterances on the subject are involved in glaring contradictions. His evidence, therefore, should not induce us, any more than that of Augustine and Sidonius or Philoponus, to attribute to Anaximander a doctrine explicitly denied to him by Theophrastus. On the other hand, the testimony of so trustworthy a witness as Theophrastus, together with the further evidence hereafter to be cited, justifies us in maintaining that this philosopher did not regard his primitive matter as a mixture of particular matters, and that consequently it is improper to separate him, as an adherent of a mechanical system of physics, from the dynamists Thales and Anaximenes. And this so much the more, as it is improbable, on general grounds, that the view which Ritter attributes to him should belong to so ancient a period. The theory of unchanging primitive substances presupposes, on the one side, the reflection that the properties of the several kinds of matter could have had no beginning, any more than matter as a whole; but among the Greeks we do not meet with this thought until after the period when the possibility of Becoming was denied by Parmenides, to whose propositions on this subject Empedocles, Anaxagoras, and Democritus expressly go back. On the other side, this theory (of unchanging primitive matter) is united in Anaxagoras with the idea of an intelligence |240| that orders the world; and even the analogous notions of Empedocles and the atomists were conditioned by their conception of efficient causes. None of these philosophers could have conceived a primitive matter as qualitatively unchangeable, if each—Anaxagoras in νοῦς, Empedocles in Hate and Love, the Atomists in the Void—had not also admitted a special principle of movement. No one has discovered any such doctrine in Anaximander; 1 nor can we conclude, from the small fragment known to us of his work, 2 that he placed motive force in individual things, and supposed them to come forth by their own impulse from the original mixture; it is the infinite itself 3 that moves all things. All the conditions, therefore, of a mechanical theory of physics 4 are here wanting, and we have no ground for |241| seeking such a theory in Anaximander in opposition to the most trustworthy evidence.

1 Ritter, Geschichte der Philosophie i. 284.
2 Ap. Simplicius Physics 6 a: ἐξ ὧν δὲ ἢ γένεσίς ἐστι τοῖς οὖσι καὶ τὴν φθορὰν εἰς ταῦτα γίνεσθαι κατὰ τὸ χρεών. διδόναι γὰρ αὐτὰ τίσιν καὶ δίκην τῆς ἀδικίας κατὰ τὴν τοῦ χρόνου τάξιν. Simplicius adds that Anaximander is speaking ποιητικωτέροις ὀνόμασιν.
3 According to the statement in Aristotle Physics iii. 4, quoted infra p. 248, 1.
4 That is, of mechanical Physics in the sense which Ritter gives to the expression in his division of the Ionian Philosophers into Dynamists and Mechanists; by Mechanists he understands those who make the determinate matters, as such, preexist in primitive matter; by Dynamists, those who make the distinguishing properties of the determinate matters first develop themselves in their emergence from a qualitatively homogenous primitive matter. It is not, however, incompatible with the latter theory that natural phenomena should further be mechanically explained, by the movement and mixing of the matters that have issued from the primitive matter. As Anaximander (this is proved by Teichmüller, loc. cit., p. 58 sq., and will hereafter appear in this work) adopted this latter procedure, it must not surprise us, though the inevitable result is that neither a purely mechanical nor a purely dynamical explanation of nature was proposed and completed by him. Still less ought it to astonish anyone (as it does Teichmüller, p. 24) that I should refuse to Anaximander a specific moving principle, while I afterwards (vide infra) make the movement of the heavens proceed from the ἄπειρον. I deny thatAnaximander had a moving principle distinct from the primitive matter, the ἄπειρον; and I maintain, precisely for that reason, that he placed the motive power in this primitive matter itself, and derived the motion of the heavens from that of the ἄπειρον. Where is the contradiction?

  |241| If Anaximander did not conceive his primitive matter as a mixture of particular substances, but as a homogeneous mass, we must next enquire what was the nature of this mass. The ancients, beginning with Aristotle, unanimously assert that it consisted of none of the four elements. Aristotle several times mentions the view that the primitive matter in regard to its density is intermediate between water and air, 1 or between air and fire, 2 and not a few ancient writers 3 have referred these assertions to Anaximander; for example, Alexander, 4 Themistius, 5 Simplicius, 6 Philoponus, 7 and Asclepius. 8 But although this theory has been recently defended 9 against Schleiermacher’s objections, 10 I cannot convince myself that it is well founded.

11 De Caelo, iii. 5, 303 b, 10; Physics iii. 4, 203 a, 16; 6. 5, 205 a, 25; De Generatione et Corruptione ii. 5, 332 a, 20.
2 Physics i. 4, 187 a, 12, vide inf. p. 248, 1: De Generatione et Corruptione loc. cit. and ii. 1, 328 b, 35; Metaphysics i. 7, 988 a, 30; 1. 8, 989 a, 14.
3 Cf. Schleiermacher, loc. cit. 175; Brandis, Gr. Röm. Phil. i. 132.
4 In Metaphysics i. 5, 7, pp. 34, 2; 36, 1; 45, 20; 46, 28; and ap. Simplicius 32 a.
5 Physics 18 a, 33 a; 83 b (pp. 124, 230, 232 sp.). The ground of this definition is here, p. 33 a, thus stated: As the elements are opposed to one another, one element conceived as infinite would annihilate all the rest. The Infinite must, therefore, be intermediate among the various elements. This thought can hardly belong to Anaximander, as it presupposes the later doctrine of the elements; it is no doubt taken from Aristotle Physics iii. 5, 204 b, 24.
6 Physics 104; 105 b: 107 a 112 b; De Caelo, 273 b, 38; 251 a, 29; 268 a, 45 (Schol. in Ar. 514 a, 28; 510 a, 24. 513 a, 35).
7 De De Generatione et Corruptione 3; Physics A 10: C 2, 3.
8 Schol. in Aristotle 553 b, 33.
9 Haym, in der Allg. Encykl. iii, Sect. B, xxiv. 26 sq.; F. Kern, in the Philologus, xxvi. 281, and p. 8 sqq. of the treatise mentioned supra, p. 237, 5.
10 loc. cit. 174 sqq.

|242| One of the Aristotelian passages quoted certainly seems to contain a reference to expressions which Anaximander employed; 1 but the reference is itself questionable, and even if it be admitted, it does not follow that the whole passage relates to him; 2 while, |243| on the other hand, the very next words clearly imply the contrary.

1 De Caelo, iii. 5, at the beginning: ἔνιοι γὰρ ἕν μόνον ὑποτίθενται καὶ τούτων οἱ μὲν ὕδωρ. οἱ δ᾽ ἀέρα, οἱ > ὕδατος μὲν λεπτότερον, ἀέρος δὲ πυκνότερον, ὃ περιέχειν φασὶ πάντας τοὺς οὐρανοὺς ἄπειρον ὄν cf. Physics iii. 4, 203 b, 10 (supra, p. 248, 1), where the words περιέχειν ἅπαντα καὶ πάντα κυβερνᾷν are, with some probability, ascribed to Anaximander; and Hippolytus, Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 6.
2 The words, ὃ περιέχει—ἄπειρον ὄν admit of two interpretations. They may either be referred solely to the subject immediately preceding the ὕδατος λεπτότερον, etc., or to the main subject of the whole proposition, the ἕν. In the former case, those who make primitive matter a something intermediate between air and water, would be credited with the assertion that this intermediate something embraces all things. In the latter case, the sense of the passage would be as follows: some assume only one primitive matter—either water, or air, or fire, or a body that is more subtle than water, and more dense than air; and this primitive matter, they say, embraces all worlds by virtue of its unlimitedness. In point of grammar the second interpretation seems to me undoubtedly the best; but one thing may certainly be urged against it (Kern, Beitrag, etc., p. 10), that, according to Physics iii. 5, 205 a, 26, οὐθεὶς τὸ ἕν καὶ ἄπειρον πῦρ ἐποίησεν οὐδὲ γῆν τῶν φυσιολόγων (Heracleitus, ibid. 205 a, 1 sq., is particularly classed among those who regard the All as limited), and that consequently the relative clause, ὃ περιέχειν. etc., cannot contain any reference to those who made fire their primitive matter. But such inaccuracies are not so very uncommon with Aristotle, and in the present instance I do not think it impossible that in a comprehensive statement, such as we have here, he should have ascribed the infinity of matter, either explicitly or implicitly admitted by the great majority of philosophers, to all without exception. and should have expressed this doctrine in the words of the man who first introduced it. On the other hand, it is quite conceivable that one of the philosophers (or if only one held it, the one philosopher) who made the primitive matter intermediate between water and air, may have adopted Anaximander’s expression, περιέχειν πάντας τοὺς οὐρανοὺς, to characterise its infinity (Anaximander himself, Physics iii. 4, only says, περιέχειν ἅπαντα); in the same way that Anaximenes (vide infra) says of the air that it ὅλον τὸν κόσμον περιέχει, and Diogenes (Frag. 6, infra) also applies to the δἰ another expression of the Anaximandrian fragment: πάντα κυβερνᾷν. The passage we have been considering, therefore, does not warrant us in ascribing to Anaximander a doctrine which, as will immediately be shown, is not στοιχείων, may have a more general ascribed to him by Aristotle.

|243 cont.| For Aristotle here ascribes to the philosophers, who believed the primitive matter to be something intermediate between air and water, the theory that things originated from primitive matter by means of rarefaction and condensation; and this he distinctly denies of Anaximander. 1 No other passage can be quoted from Aristotle to show that he found this definition of primitive matter in Anaximander’s writings. 2 As to the statements of later writers, they |244| appear to be entirely based on the passages in Aristotle.

1 Aristotle thus continues (De Caelo, iii. 5) immediately after the words quoted above: ὅσοι μὲν οὖν τὸ ἕν τοῦτο ποιοῦσιν ὕδωρ ἢ ἀέρα ἢ ὕδατος μὲν λεπτότερον ἀέρος δὲ πυκνότερον, εἶτ᾽ ἐκ τούτου πυκνότητι καὶ μανότητι τᾶλλα γεννῶσιν, etc.
2 Kern, Philologus xxvi. 281, thought that the passage (quoted sup. 228, 3), Physics iii. 4, might be so taken; since, according to this, Anaximander must be reckoned among the philosophers who conceive of the Infinite as a body intermediate between two elements. In the Beitrag zur Phil. der Xen., p. 8, he prefers to interpret the words thus: the physicists all assign as substratum to the Infinite one of the elements, or that which is intermediate between them. I cannot adopt this explanation. I think that Aristotle would have expressed this thought otherwise. He would have said perhaps: ὕποτιθέασιν ἑτέραν τινὰ φύσιν τῷ ἀπείρῳ, ἤ τι τῶν λεγομένων στοιχείων, ἢ τὸ μεταξὺ τούτων. On the other hand, I still consider that the words, ἕτεραν τινὰ φύσιν τῶν λεγομένων signification, an elemental body, different from itself, so that the matter underlying all particular substances would be included under the expression. The possibility of this view appears, not only from Aristotle's comprehensive use of στοιχεῖον (e.g. Metaphysics i. 8, 989 a, 30, cf. b, 16, xii. 4; De An. i. 2, 404 b, 11), but also from the definition of the word (Metaphysics v. 3); nor does the word λεγομένων present any difficulty, for we have no right to find an allusion here to ‘the four elements.’ Aristotle, on the contrary, expressly says, loc. cit., 1014 a, 82; τὰ τῶν σωμάτων στοιχεῖα λέγουσιν οἱ λέγοντες εἰς ἃ διαιρεῖται τὰ σώματα ἔσχατα. ἐκεῖνα δὲ μηκέτ᾽ εἰς ἄλλα εἴδει διαφέροντα, καὶ εἴτε ἕν εἴτε πλείω τὰ τοιαῦτα, ταῦτα στοιχεῖα λέγουσιν. Similarly, De Caelo, iii. 3, 302 a, 15 sqq. The λεγόμενα στοιχεῖα are, according to this, those equally divided bodies, which form the ultimate constituent or constituents of compound bodies. Such undoubtedly is Anaximander’s ἄπειρον, if we understand by it a matter to which the properties of determinate substances do not yet belong. We are almost forced to take this view of Aristotle’s words, because the passage would otherwise apply neither to Anaxagoras, nor to the Atomists. For neither the ὅμοιομερῆ, nor the atoms, belong to the four elements, or to that which is μεταξὺ τούτων; but Aristotle himself maintains the ἀπειρία of the ὅμοιομερῆ, and of the atoms; these must also, therefore, be a ἑτέρα φύσις, which serves as substratum to the ἄπειρον.

|244 cont.| Simplicius, at any rate, cannot be quoting directly from Anaximander, otherwise he could not speak so undecidedly as he does, 1 and he could not ascribe to this philosopher, as if it were a subject οf indifference, the double theory of matter as intermediate between air and fire, and again as intermediate between air and water; 2 for these two theories obviously exclude one another, and cannot both have been found in Anaximander’s work. Nor can Simplicius have found among his predecessors allusions to that work, otherwise a different turn would at once have been given to the discussion. The same may be said of Porphyry, 3 who in that case would not have grounded his opinion (which differs from the opinion of Alexander) solely upon the Aristotelian passage. This also holds good of Alexander 4 and Philoponus. 5 These later statements, therefore, one and all, depend entirely upon conjecture, and the words of Aristotle were only referred to Anaximander because they seemed to apply to no other philosopher. Now it is clear from the undoubted testimony of the most trustworthy authorities, that Anaximander did not consider his primitive matter |245| as intermediate between two definite kinds of matter; but that he either was silent as to its nature, or expressly described it as that to which none of the properties of particular substances belongs.

1 Physics 32 a.
2 The former, Physics 107 ἃ. The latter, Physics 105, b. De Caelo, 273 b, 38; 251 a, 29.
3 Simplicius, Physics 32 a.
4 In Metaphysics 988. a, 11; Scholium 553 b, 22: τὴν ᾿Αναξιμάνδρου δόξαν, ὃς ἀρχὴν ἔθετο τὴν μεταξὺ φύσιν ἀέρος τε καὶ πυρὸς, ἢ ἀέρος τε καὶ ὕδατοΞς᾽ λέγεται γὰρ ἀμφοτέρως.
5 Even he is uncertain, in the passages quoted, whether Anaximander's Infinite is intermediate between air and fire, or air and water.

|245 cont.| For when Aristotle, in the above-mentioned passage, speaks generally of those who posited as primitive matter a definite element, or something intermediate between two elements, and derived all other things from it by the processes of rarefaction and condensation, it is obvious that his design is not to draw a distinction between these philosophers and others who equally assumed a primitive matter of the same kind, but made things to arise out of it in a different manner. On the contrary, in refuting the theory of a derivation of things by means of rarefaction and condensation, he believes that he has refuted the general theory of a primitive matter of definite quality. This is still clearer from the passage in the Physics, i. 4.1 ‘Some of them,’ he here says, ‘starting from the pre-supposition of a determinate primitive matter, make things to originate from it by means of rarefaction and condensation; others, like Anaximander, Anaxagoras, and Empedocles, maintain that opposites are already contained in the One primitive matter, and are produced from it by means of separation.’ Here it is perfectly evident that he conceives rarefaction and condensation to be as essentially connected with the theory of a qualitatively determined matter, as separation with that of an original mixture of all things, or of a matter without qualitative determinateness. Nor can it be otherwise; for in order to |246| arise by separation out of the primitive matter, particular matters must either potentially or actually have been contained in it; but this would only be possible if the primitive matter were itself not a particular matter, not merely intermediate between two other particular matters: but including them all equally in itself. If we further consider that this chapter of the Physics is occupied, not with the manner in which things originate from elements, but with the number and nature of primitive substances themselves, 1 it seems beyond question that Anaximander was opposed to the rest of the Ionians, ποῦ only from the first point of view, but from the second, and that consequently his infinite can have been neither one of the four elements, which were afterwards admitted, nor an intermediary between two of these elements. This probably explains why Anaximander is passed over in Metaphysics i. 3, and also a remark, 2 which otherwise would have no historical point, and which the Greek commentators 3 themselves apply to him. ‘Some,’ says Aristotle, ‘seek the Infinite, not in any particular element, but in that out of which all particular elements arose; because each particular substance, conceived as infinite, must exclude those substances that are opposed to it.’

1 This Haym, loc. cit., denies; but it unquestionably results from C 2. sub init.
2 Physics iii. 5, 204 b, 22: ἀλλὰ μὴν οὐδὲ ἕν καὶ ἁπλοῦν ἐνδέχεται εἶναι τὸ ἄπειρον σῶμα, οὔτε ὡς λέγουσί τινες τὺ παρὰ τὰ στοιχεῖα, ἐξ οὗ ταῦτα γεννῶσιν, οὔθ᾽ ἁπλῶς. εἰσὶ γάρ τινες, οἱ τοῦτο ποιοῦσι τὸ ἄπειρον, ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ ἀέρα ἢ ὕδωρ, ὡς μὴ τἄλλα φθείρηται ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀπείρου αὐτῶν’ ἔχουσι γὰρ πρὸς ἄλληλα ἐναντίωσιν, οἷον ὃ μὲν ἀὴρ ψυχρὺς, τὺ δ᾽ ὕδωρ ὑγρὸν, τὸ δὲ πῦρ θερμόν. ὧν εἰ ἦν ἐν ἄπειρον ἔφθαρτο ἂν ἤδη τἄλλα" νῦν δ᾽ ἕτερον εἶναί φασιν ἐξ οὗ ταῦτα.
3 Simp. 11 a; Themist. 33 a, (230 sq.).

This reason, |247| indeed, which points to the later theory of the elements, can hardly have been so stated by Anaximander. But whether Aristotle inferred it, after his manner, from some ambiguous utterance, or arrived at it by his own conjecture, or whether later authors may, perhaps, have interpolated it, the doctrine in support of which it is adduced no doubt belongs originally to Anaximander. Theophrastus expressly says so 1 in describing Anaximander’s Infinite as One matter without qualitative determinateness; and with this Diogenes 2 and the Pseudo-Plutarch, 3 and among the commentators of Aristotle, Porphyry, and probably also Nicolaus of Damascus, 4 agree; of these the two first, at any rate, appeared to have used a special source. Simplicius himself says elsewhere the same thing. 5 That Anaximander’s primitive matter was not a qualitatively determined matter is, therefore, certain; the only doubt that remains is whether he expressly denied to it all determination, or merely abstained from qualifying it at all. The latter hypothesis is the more probable of the two; it is actually maintained by some of our authorities, and appears simpler and, therefore, more in accordance with so ancient a system, than the other theory, which constantly presupposes considerations like those above cited from Aristotle; it also furnishes the |248| most reasonable explanation of the fact that Aristotle only mentions Anaximander when he is discussing the question of the finiteness or infinity of matter, and of the production of things from it, and not when he is dealing with its elementary composition; for in the case we are assuming, no distinct utterance of Anaximander would have been known to him on this point, as on the two former (not even the negative statement that the Infinite is not a particular substance), and so he prefers to be wholly silent on the subject.

1 Ap. Simplicius vide supra, b. 233, 1.
2 ii. 1: ἔφασκεν ἀρχὴν καὶ στοιχεῖον τὸ ἄπειρον, οὐ διορίζων ἀέρα ἢ ὕδωρ ἢ ἄλλο τι.
3 Placita i. 8, 5: ἁμαρτάνει δὲ οὗτος μὴ λέγων τί ἐστι τὸ ἄπειρον, πότερον ἀήρ ἐστιν ἢ ὕδωρ ἢ γῆ ἢ ἄλλα τινὰ σώματα.
4 Simplicius Physics32 a.
5 Physics iii. a: λέγουσιν οἱ περὶ ᾿Αγαξίμανδρον [τὸ ἄπειρον εἶναι] τὸ παρὰ τὰ στοιχεῖα ἐξ οὗ τὰ στοιχεῖα γεννῶσιν. 6 a: λέγει δ᾽ αὐτὴν [τὴν ἀρχὴν] μήτε ὕδωρ ἄλλο τῶν καλουμένων στοιχείων, ἀλλ᾽ ἑτέραν τινὰ φύσιν ἄπειρον. Also 9 b.

|248 cont.| I therefore believe that Anaximander held simply to this proposition: that the Infinite or infinite matter existed before particular things. As to the material constitution of this primitive substance, he has given us no precise information.
  Anaximander further taught that the Infinite is eternal and imperishable. 1 In this sense he is said to have designated the first principle of all things by the expression ἀρχή. 2

1 Aristotle Physics ii. 4, 208 b, 10 (cf. De Caelo, ii. 5; supra, p. 242, 2). The Infinite is without beginning or end, etc.: διὸ, καθάπερ λέγομεν, οὐ ταύτης ἀρχὴ, ἀλλ’ αὕτη τῶν ἄλλων εἶναι δοκεῖ καὶ περιέχειν ἅπαντα καϊπάντα κυβερνᾷν, ὥς φασιν ὅσοι μὴ ποιοῦσι παρὰ τὸ ἄπειρον ἄλλας αἰτίας, οἷον νοῦν ἢ φιλίαν" καὶ τοῦτ᾽ εἶναι τὸ θεῖον ἀθάνατον γὰρ καὶ ἀνώλεθρον, ὡς φησὶν ὃ ᾿Αναξίμανδρος καὶ οἱ πλεῖστοι τῶν φυσιολόγων. The words in red type are probably taken from Anaximander’s work; only for ἀνώλεθρον, ἀγήρω may have been substituted as Hippolytus, Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 6 [ταύτην (τὴν αρχὴν) δ᾽ ἀΐδιον εἶναι καὶ ἀγήρω καὶ πάντας περιέχειν τοὺς κόσμους] thinks likely. More recently Diogenes L. ii. 1: τὰ μὲν μέρη μεταβάλλειν, τὸ δὲ πᾶν ἀμετάβλητον εἶναι.
2 Hippolytus loc. cit., and Simplicius Physics 32 b, certainly assert this; and Teichmüller (Stud. zur Gesch. der Begr. 49 sqq.), who disputes it, does violence, as it seems to me, to the wording of these passages. It is another question whether the statement is true, and this we can scarcely ascertain. Like Teichmüller, I cannot regard it as self-evident, that he employed the expression ἀρχή; and my doubt is strengthened by the circumstance that a similar remark about Thales (that he called water ἀρχὴ) I can discover neither in Diogenes L. i. 27, nor elsewhere; and consequently I cannot credit it. But if Anaximander did eall his Infinite the ἀρχὴ or the ἄρχὴ πάντων, or designate it in any other similar manner, this would only be saying that the Infinite was the beginning of all things, which is tar enough from the Platonic and Aristotelian concept of the ἀρχὴ. the ultimate cause.

He conceived motive power |249| to be combined from the beginning with matter; 1 or, as Aristotle says (loc. cit.), he taught that the Infinite not merely contained, but directed all things. 2 He thus regarded matter, after the manner of the early Hylozoism, as self-moved and living; and in consequence of this motion he supposed it to produce all things from itself. When Aristotle (loc. cit.), therefore, designates Anaximander’s Infinite as the Divine essence, he describes it correctly, 3 though we do not know whether Anaximander himself used that expression. 4

1 Plutarch ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8, 1: Ἀναξίμανδρον…τὸ ἄπειρον φάναι τὴν πᾶσαν αἰτίαν ἔχειν τῆς τοῦ παντὸς: γενέσεώς τε καὶ φθορᾶς. Herm. Irris. c. 4: ᾿Αναξ. τοῦ ὑγροῦ πρεσβυτέραν ἀρχὴν εἶναι λέγει τὴν αἴδιον κίνησιν, καὶ ταύτῃ τὰ μὲν γεννᾶσθαι τὰ δὲ φθείρεσθαι. Hippolytus loc. cit.: πρὸς δὲ τούτῳ κίνησιν αἴδιον εἶναι, ἐν ἧ συμβαίνει γίνεσθαι τοὺς οὐρανούς. Simplicius Physics 9, p.: ἄπειρόν τινα φύσιν…ἀρχὴν ἔθετο, ἣς τὴν ἀΐδιον κίνησιν αἰτίαν εἶναι τῆς τῶν ὄντων γενέσεως ἔλεγε. Similarly 107 a; 257 b.
2 The expression κυβερνᾷν, which, in its simplest meaning, signifies the guidance of the ship’s movements by the rudder, here relates primarily to the movement of the celestial system.
3 Röth (Gesch. der Abendl. Phil. ii. a, 142) believes that the self-dependent moving force attributed to the Infinite presupposes an intelligence, a conscious spiritual nature, and that the Infinite of Anaximander must thus be conceived as infinite spirit; but this is an entire misapprehension of the contemporary modes of thought, and is contradicted by Aristotle's well-known assertion (Metaphysics i. 3, 984 b, 15 sq.) that Anaxagoras was the first who declared νοῦς to be the principle of the world. In appealing for want of any other evidence to the words of Theophrastus quoted above (p. 233, 1), he has overlooked the fact that Anaximander is here compared with Anaxagoras only in respect of his definition of the σωματικὰ στοιχεῖα. Not to mention other inaccuracies, this does away with the discovery, of which Röth (loc. cit.) is so proud, that Anaximander’s doctrine of the ἄπειρον has more theological than physical importance, and that it is in complete harmony with the Egyptian theology, as he endeavours to prove.
4 The text of Simplicius Physics 107 a, which is only a paraphrase of the passage we have quoted from Aristotle, cannot of course be adduced in support of it. I am unable to give such a decided negative to this question as Büsgen does, loc. cit., p. 16 sq.; but Anaximander certainly could not have named his Infinite τὸ θεῖον in the monotheistic sense; he only called it θεῖον, divine.

  |250| We are farther told that he represented particular substances as developing themselves from the primitive matter by means of separation (ἐκκρίνεσθαι, ἀποκρίνεσθαι), 1 and Anaximander himself seems to have used this word; 2 but what he precisely understood by separation does not appear. He apparently left this conception in the same uncertainty as that of the primitive matter, and that which floated before his mind was merely the general notion of an emergence of the several matters distinct from one another, out of the original homogeneous mass. We hear, on the other hand, that he made the division of heat and cold the first result of this separation. 3

1 Aristotle Physics i. 4, vide supra, p. 234, 3; Plutarch in Eusebius loc. cit.; Simplicius Physics 6 a: οὐκ ἀλλοιουμένου τοῦ στοιχείου τὴν γένεσιν ποιεῖ, ἀλλ᾽ ἀποκρινομένων τῶν ἐναντίων διὰ τῆς ἀϊδίου κινήσεως. And similarly ibid. 32 b; 51 b (vide supra, pp. 228, 3; 238, 1), where, however, Anaximander’s doctrine is too much confused with that of Anaxagoras, Themist. Physics 18 a; 19 a (124, 21; 181, 22 sq.); Philoponus, Physics C 2. The incorrect statement of Simplicius that Anaximander believed in rarefaction and condensation, was no doubt based upon the false supposition that his primitive matter was intermediate between two elements, and that he was consequently alluded to by Aristotle, De Caelo, iii. 5 (vide supra, p. 242,1); Physics i. 4, at the beginning (vide supra, p. 234, 3); cf. Philoponus, Physics c. 3.
2 We gather this partly from the use of the word φησὶ in Aristotle loc. cit., and also from considering the manner in which he reduces both the cosmogony of Empedocles and that of Anaxagoras to the concept, ἐκκρίνεσθαι. Moreover, it is impossible to see how Aristotle and his successor could have been led to attribute the ἔκκρισις to Anaximander, unless they had found it in his writings.
3 Simplicius Physics 32 b: τὰς ἐναντιότητες. ἐκκρίνεσθαί φησιν ᾿Αναξίμανδρος…ἐναντιότητες δέ εἰσι θερμὸν, ψυχρὸν, ξηρὸν, ὑγρὸν καὶ ai ἄλλαι. More precisely Plutarch (ap. Eusebius loc. cit.): φησὶ δὲ τὸ ἐκ τοῦ ἀϊδίου γόνιμον θερμοῦ τε καὶ ψυχροῦ κατὰ τὴν γένεσιν τοῦδε τοῦ κόσμου ἀποκριθῆναι, Stobaeus Eclogae i. 500: Ἀ. ἐκ θερμοῦ καὶ ψυχροῦ μίγματος [εἶναι τὸν οὐρανόν]. That Aristotle, as is usually believed, reckoned dryness and moisture among the primordial oppositions, as well as cold and heat, Simplicius does not say: he himself gives, according to the doctrine of Aristotle, this explanation of the ‘ἐναντιότητες.’

From the mixture of |251| these two he appears to have derived the fluid element, 1 which, like Thales, he regarded as the immediate (though not, like him, as the ultimate) substance of the world. On this account, probably, and perhaps also in imitation of his predecessor, he calls water the seed of the world. 2 From the fluid universal matter, by successive separations, three kinds of matter were parted off: the earth, the air, and an orb of fire, which surrounded the whole like a spherical crust; 3

1 Aristotle Meteorologica ii. 1, 353 b, 6, mentions the opinion that the πρῶτον ὑγρὸν at first filled the whole space around the world, when it was dried up by the sun: τὸ μὲν διατμίσαν πνεύματα καὶ τροπὰς ἡλίου καὶ σελήνης φασὶ ποιεῖν, τὸ δὲ λειφθὲν θάλατταν εἶναι, and this is why the sea also dries up little by little, Alex. n h. l.i, p. 91 a (Aristotle Meteorologica ed. Idel. i. 268; Theophrasti Op. ed. Wimmer, iii. fragm. 389) remarks: ταύτης τῆς δόξης ἐγένοντο, ὡς ἱστορεῖ ὃ Θεόφραστος, ᾿Αναξίμανδρός τε καὶ Διογένης. Similarly Placita iii. 16, 1: Ἂ. Thy θάλασσάν φησιν εἶναι τῆς πρώτης ὑγρασίας λείψανον, ἧς τὸ μὲν πλεῖον μέρος ἀνεξήρανε τὸ πῦρ, τὸ δὲ ὑπολειφθὲν διὰ τὴν ἔκκαυσιν μετέβαλεν. This is the ὑγρὸν of which Hermias (vide supra, p. 249, 1) speaks. That in respect to this theory Aristotle or Theophrastus could have said of Anaximander what the work about Melissus (vide supra, 232, 2) says of him; ὕδωρ φάμενος εἶναι τὸ πᾶν, I cannot admit with Kern (Θεοϕράστου περὶ Μελίσσου, Philologus, xxvi. 281, cf. Beitr. zur Phil. d. Xenoph. 11 sq.); for these words describe water, not only as that out of which the world has arisen, but as that of which it eternally consists, as its στοιχεῖον (in the sense discussed in p. 243, 2), and this contradicts the most distinct declaration of both these philosophers. Still less can 1 allow, with Rose (Aristotle libr. ord. 75), that Anaxagoras regarded moisture or water only as the matter of all things, and that the ἄπειρον, which all our authorities with one accord attributed to him, was foisted upon him by the nomenclature of a later period.
2 Vide Plutarch, preceding note.
3 Plutarch ap. Eusebius according to the quotation, p. 250, 3: καί τινα ἐκ τούτου φλογὸς σφαῖραν περιφῦναι τῷ περὶ τὴν γῆν ἀέρι, ὡς τῷ δένδρῳ φλοιόν, ἧστινος ἀποῤῥαγείσης καὶ εἴς τινας ἄποκλεισθείσης κύκλους ὕποστῆναι τὸν ἥλιον καὶ τὴν σελήνην καὶ τοὺς ἀστέρα.

this at least seems to be the meaning of the scattered indications |252| that we find upon the subject. 1 The heavenly bodies were formed of fire and air; when the fiery circle of the universe burst asunder, and the fire was pent up in wheel-shaped husks of compressed air, from the apertures of which it streams forth; the stoppage of these apertures occasions eclipses of the sun and moon, and the Waxing and waning of the moon are produced in the same way. 2

1 On the other hand, I cannot agree with Teichmüller (loc. cit. pp. 7, 26, 58) that he conceived his ἄπειρον as originally a great sphere, and the eternal motion of it (supra, p. 248 sq.) as a rotation whereby a spherical envelope of fire was parted off and spread over the surface of the mass. No such notion is ascribed to Anaximander by any of our authorities; for the σφαῖρα πυρός lay, not round the ἄπειρον, but around the atmosphere of the earth. Indeed, if we say that the Infinite comprehends all things, or all worlds (pp. 242, 1; 248, 1), we exclude the presupposition that it is itself comprehended by the limits of our world. But a spherical Infinite is in itself so great and so direct a contradiction, that only the most unquestionable evidence could justify our ascribing it to the Milesian philosopher; and, in point of fact, there exists no evidence for it at all.
2 Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 6; Plutarch in Eusebius loc. cit.; Placita ii. 20, 1; 21, 1; 25, 1 (Galen. Hist. Phil. 15); Stobaeus Eclogae i. 510, 524, 548; Theodoret, Graecorum affectionum curatio iv. 17, p. 58; Achilles Tatius, Isag. c. 19, p. 138 sq. All these writers agree in what is stated in our text. If, however, we attempt any closer definition of this conception, we find considerable divergencies and lacunae in the accounts. Plutarch, ap. Euseb. only says that the sun and moon were formed when the fiery globe burst asunder, and became enclosed within certain circles. Hippolytus adds that these circles have openings in the places when we see the stars; the stopping up of these occasions eclipses and the phases of the moon. According to the Placita, Stobaeus, Pseudo-Galen, and Theodoret, Anaximander conceived these circles as analogous to the wheels of a cart; there were openings in the hollow circle of the wheel filled with fire, and through these openings the fire streamed out. Finally, Achilles Tatius says that Anaximander thought the sun had the form of a wheel, from the nave of which the light poured in rays (like the spokes) spreading out as far as the circumference of the sun. The last theory formerly seemed to me to deserve the preference. I must, however, concede to Teichmüller (Studien, p. 10 sq.), who has carefully examined all the texts on this subject, that that of Achilles Tatius does not look very authentic; and as we are further informed (Placita ii. 16, 3; Stobaeus 516) that Anaximander made the stars ὑπὸ τῶν κύκλων καὶ τῶν σφαιρῶν, ἐφ᾽ ὧν ἕκαστος βέβηκε φέρεσθαι, which is confirmed by the τροπαὶ Tov οὐρανοῦ, attributed to him by Aristotle (Meteorologica ii. 2, 355, a, 21), it now appears to me probable that Röth (Gesch. der Abendl. Phil. ii. a, 155) has taken the right view in interpreting the wheel-shared circles filled with fire (Röth wrongly says encompassed with fire on the outside) as the starry spheres; these spheres, in their rotation, pour forth fire through an aperture, and produce the phenomenon of a fiery body circling round the earth. As, however, these rings only consist of air, Teichmüller is not wrong (p. 32 sq.) in disputing the theory of solid spheres and a solid firmament (Röth, loc. cit.; Gruppe, Cosm. Syst. d. Gr. p. 37 sqq.) as held by Anaximander. In agreement with this view, there is the statement (Stobaeus 648; Placita ii. 25, 1; Galen, c. 15) that, according to Anaximander, the moon is a circle nineteen times as large as the earth; since it is quite possible that this philosopher, for reasons unknown to us, may have considered the circumference of the moon’s orbit (which in that case would coincide with the moon’s sphere) to be nineteen times the size of the earth’s circumference. When, however, we learn from the same source (Stobaeus i. 524; Placita 20, 1; 21, 1; Galen, Historia philosopha c. 14, p. 274, 276, 279, K.) that he made the sun’s circle twenty-eight times as large as the earth, and the sun itself (the opening of this circle which we behold as the sun’s 4150) the same size as the earth—this is incompatible with the theory that the sun’s circle is the sun's sphere, and its size, consequently, that of the sun’s orbit; for that the sun’s orbit should be only twenty-eight times as large as the sun’s disc, is a glaring contradiction of ocular evidence, which we cannot ascribe to Anaximander. Hippolytus, however, says (as Teichmüller, p. 17, rightly observes) εἶναι δὲ τὸν κύκλον τοῦ ἡλίου ἑπτακαιεικοσιπλασίονα τῆς σελήνης, and if we connect with this the statement that the moon is nineteen times as large as the earth, we shall have the sun’s orbit 513 times the size of the earth’s circumference, and consequently 513 times that of the sun’s circumference, which would of course seem sufficient to Anaximander. But from the nature of our evidence we cannot pass certain judgment in the matter.

This fire is kept up by the exhalations |253| of the earth; and, again, the heat of the sun assists the drying up of the globe and the formation of the sky. 1 That the moon and planets shine by their own light 2 follows necessarily from Anaximander’s theories respecting them.

1 Aristotle Meteorologica ii. 1 (cf. p. 251, 1); ibid. c. 2, 355 a, 21, where Anaximander is not indeed mentioned, but according to Alexander’s trustworthy statement (loc. cit. and p. 93 b) he is included.
2 What is asserted in the Placita, ii. 28, and Stobaeus i. 556, of the moon, is denied by Diogenes L. (ii. 1), but (as appears from the passages we have quoted) without foundation.

The movement of the heavenly bodies he derived from the currents of air caused |254| by the revolution of the spheres; 1 his theories on their position and magnitudes 2 are as arbitrary as we might expect in the childhood of astronomy; if, however, he really taught that the stars were carried round by the movement of circles out of which they received the fires by which they shine, he claims an important place in the history of astronomy as the author of the theory of the spheres. The same would apply to his discovery of the obliquity of the ecliptic, 3 if this has been rightly |255| ascribed to him.

1 Aristotle and Alex., cf. previous note and supra, p. 251, 1. In what way the rotation of the heavens is effected, Aristotle does not say, but his words in c. 2, as also in the passage cited p. 251, 1, from c. 1, can scarcely bear any other construction this: than that the heavens are moved by the πνεύματα, an idea which is also found in Anaxagoras and elsewhere (Ideler, Aristotle Meteorologica i. 497). Alexander thus (loc. cit.) explains the words of Aristotle, quoted p. 251, 1: ὕγροῦ yap ὄντος τοῦ περὶ τὴν γῆν τόπου, τὰ πρῶτα τῆς ὑγρότητος ὑπὸ τοῦ ἡλίου ἐξατμίζεσθαι καὶ γίνεσθαι τὰ πνεύματά τε ἐξ αὐτοῦ καὶ τροπὰς ἡλίου τε καὶ σελήνης, ὡς διὰ τὰς ἀτμίδας ταύτας καὶ τὰς ἀναθυμιάσεις κἀκείνων τὰς τροπὰς ποιουμένων, ἔνθα ἣ ταύτης αὐτοῖς χορηγία γίνεται περὶ ταῦτα τρεπομένων. Whether the remark that Theophrastus ascribes this view to Anaximander and Diogenes, refers to this portion of Anaximander’s exposition is not quite certain. Teichmüller’s theory, loc. cit. 22 sqq., that Anaximander derived the movement of the firmament from the turning of the ἄπειρον, conceived as spherical, on its axis, I cannot admit, for the reasons given, p. 202, 1, irrespectively of the testimonies just quoted. Nor can I admit, as Teichmüller alleges, that there is any contradiction in my connecting (p. 249, 2) the πάντα κυβερνᾷν, ascribed to the Infinite, with the movement of the heavens, while I here derive this movement from the πνεύματα. When Anaximander says that the Infinite by its own movement produces that of the universe, this does not prevent his describing (cf. 250 sq.) more particularly the manner in which that movement is brought about, and seeking accordingly the approximate cause for the revolution of the starry spheres in the currents of the air.
2 According to Stobaeus 510, and the Placita ii. 15, 6, he placed the sun highest, then the moon, and the fixed stars and planets lowest (Röper in Philologus, vii. 609, wrongly gives an opposite interpretation). Hippolytus says the same, only without mentioning the planets. On the size of the sun and moon cf. p. 253. The statements of Eudemus, quoted p. 234, 2, refer to these theories.
3 Pliny, Historia Naturalis ii. 8, 31. Others, however, ascribe this discovery to Pythagoras; vide infra, Pyth.

|255 cont.| In accordance with the notions of antiquity, Anaximander, we are told, regarded the stars as gods, and spoke of an innumerable or infinite multitude of heavenly gods. 1
  The Earth he supposes to have existed at first in a liquid state, and to have been gradually formed by the drying up of the moisture by means of the surrounding fire; the rest, having become salt and bitter, running off into the sea. 2 Its shape he conceives as a cylinder, the height of which is a third part of its breadth; we inhabit its upper surface. 3 At rest in the centre of all things, its equilibrium is maintained because it is equally distant from the extreme limits of the universe. 4

1 Cicero, De Natura Deorum i. 10, 25 (after Philodemus), Anaximandri autem opinio est nativos esse Deos, longis intervallis orientes occidentesque eosque innumerahiles esse mundos. Placita i. 7, 12: Αναξίμανδρος τοὺς ἀστέρας οὐρανίους θεούς. Stobaeus in the parallel passage Eclogae i. 56: ᾿Αναξίωμανδρος ἀπεφήνατο τοὺς ἀπείρους οὐρανοὺς θεούς: Ps-Galen. Historia philosopha c. 8, p. 251 K: ᾿Αναξίμανδρος δὲ τοὺς ἀπείρους νοῦς (Haeren in Stobaeus, loc. cit. rightly substitutes οὐρανοὺς for νοῦς) θεοὺς εἶναι; Cyril, c. Jul. i. p. 28 D: ᾿Αναξίμανδρος θεὸν διορίζεται εἶναι τοὺς ἀπείρους κόσμους. Tert. Adv. Marc. i. 13: Anaximander universa coelestia (Deos pronuntiavit). How we are to understand the infinite number of these gods we shall soon more particularly enquire.
2 Vide supra, p. 251, 1.
3 Plutarch in Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8, 2; Placita iii. 10, 1; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 6. Diogenes (ii. 1) makes the form of the earth spherical instead of cylindrical, but this is an error. Teichmüller goes thoroughly into the subject, loc. cit. 40 sqq.
4 Aristotle De Caelo, ii. 18, 295 b, 10; Simplicius in h. 1. 237 b, 45 sq.; Schol. 507 b, 20; Diogenes L. ii. 1; Hippolytus, loc. cit. The assertion of Theo. (Astron. p. 324), taken by him from Dereyllides, that Anaximander thought the earth moved around the centre of the universe, is a misapprehension of what he (Anaximander) said as to the suspension (ap. Simplicius loc. cit.) of the earth. Alexander expresses himself more cautiously.

|255 cont.| The animals also, he thought, originated from primitive slime, under the influence of the sun’s heat, and as the idea of a gradual succession of animal species corresponding with the periods of geological formation was |256| naturally beyond his reach, he assumed that the land animals, including man, had at first been fishes, and afterwards, when they were able to develop themselves under their new shape, had come on shore and thrown off their scales 1 He is said to have regarded the soul as of the nature of air, 2 and we have no reason to think this improbable; what, however, is more certain, is that in his theories of the origin of rain, of the winds, of thunder and lightning, 3 almost everything is referred to the influence of air. But these theories have little connection with his philosophic doctrine.
  As all things were produced from one primitive matter, so must all return to it; for all things, says our philosopher, 4 must undergo, according to the order of time, penance and punishment for their injustice. The separate existence of individual things is, so to speak, a wrong, a transgression which they must expiate by their destruction. Anaxagoras is said to have applied the same principle to the world as a whole, and to have admitted, in consequence, that the world would be destroyed, but that on account of the perpetual motion of the infinite substance, a new world would be |257| formed; so that there would thus be an endless series of successive worlds.

1 Vide Plutarch ap. Eusebius loc. cit.; Qu. Con. viii. 8, 4; Placita v. 19. 4; also Brandis, i. 140, but especially Teichmüller, loc. cit. 63 sqq., who rightly calls attention to the points of contact between this hypothesis and the Darwinian theory. But I cannot follow him in his statement (p. 68) that Anaximander, according to Plutarch, Quaestiones Convivales forbade the eating of fish. Plutarch does not seem to me to say that Anaximander expressly interdicted fish eating, but only that his doctrine of the descent of men from fishes implied that the use of fish as food was unlawful.
2 Theodoret Graecorum affectionum curatio v. 18, p.72.
3 Ps-Plutarch, Placita iii 3, 1, 7, 1; Stobaeus Eclogae i. 590; Hippolytus loc. cit.; Seneca Naturales Quaestiones ii. 18 sq.; Achilles Tatius in Arat. 33; Pliny Historia Naturalis ii. 79, 191, makes Anaximander foretell an earthquake to the Spartans, but adds significantly ‘Si eredimus.’
4 In the fragment quoted, p. 240, 2.

|257 cont.| This matter, however, is open to dispute. 1 We are repeatedly assured that Anaximander spoke of innumerable worlds, but whether he meant by this, worlds in juxtaposition, or worlds in succession,—and whether, upon the former theory, he thought of a number of complete systems, separate from each other, or only different parts of one and the same system, are questions that are not easily answered. 2 Cicero says that Anaximander regarded the countless worlds as gods. This would incline us to the idea of whole systems, like the worlds of Democritus. The countless ‘heavens’ of which Stobaeus speaks (as also the Pseudo-Galen) seem to necessitate the same interpretation, since Cyrillus substitutes ‘worlds’ for ‘heavens.’ The Placita, however, have the word ‘stars,’ and this we must take to have been Anaximander’s real meaning. For if he had said the innumerable worlds that are supposed to exist outside our system are gods, he would not merely have stood alone among all the ancient philosophers, but it would be difficult to say how he could have arrived at such a theorem. For in all periods, and without exception, gods have been understood to mean beings that are the objects of human adoration: even the gods of Epicurus are so, though, on their side, they trouble themselves little about men. 3 But these worlds, entirely withdrawn from our perceptions and sight, and admitted only on the strength of a speculative hypothesis, are not |258| capable of inspiring our adoration, and have nothing in themselves that could appeal to the feeling of piety;

1 Vide Schleiermacher, loc. cit. 195 sq.; Krische, Forschungen i. 44 sqq.
2 Vide the texts given, supra, b. 255, 1.
3 Cf. Part III. a, 395, second edition.

|258 cont.| whereas the ancient worship of the stars, deeply rooted as it was in the Hellenic modes of thought, is to be met with perpetually, as we know, among the philosophers. Anaximander’s countless gods must, therefore, be the stars. The explanation of his likewise calling these gods ‘heavens’ may be found in what we have gathered about his conception of the stars. That which we behold under the form of sun, moon, or stars, is to Anaximander only a luminous aperture in a ring which is formed of air and filled with fire, and rotates at a greater or less distance around the earth. The concentric light-emitting rings which thus surround us, and together with the earth form the universe, might therefore be properly called heavens, and perhaps they might be called worlds; 1 but it is likewise possible that later writers, adopting the language of their own times, may have substituted ‘worlds’ for ‘heavens’ by way of explanation or emendation. Besides, Anaximander might well speak in this sense of an infinite number of heavens, since (in accordance with this theory) he must have regarded the fixed stars, not as placed in a single sphere. 2 but each one as the aperture of its own ring. For at so early a period as Anaximander’s, it ought not to surprise us if that which no man could reckon were called infinite in number.

1 Simplicius, for example, says (in the passage quoted supra, p. 233, 1) of Anaxagoras, to whom nobody attributed the theory of several systems, that vods, according to him, produced τούς te κόσμους καὶ τὴν τῶν ἄλλων φύσιν.
2 Such a sphere must have been perforated like a sieve, since each star indicates an opening in it; and (according to p. 254, 2) it would have hidden the sun and moon from us.

  |259| On the other hand, the assertion which ascribes to Anaximander an infinity of successive worlds seems to be borne out by his system. The correlative of the world’s formation is the world’s destruction; if the world, as a living being, developed itself at a definite epoch out of a given matter, it may easily be supposed that it will also be dissolved, like a living being, into its constituent elements again. If creative force and movement, as essential and original qualities, be ascribed to this primitive matter, it is only logical to conclude that by virtue of its vitality it will produce another world after the destruction of our own; and for the same reason it must have produced other worlds prior to the earth. Thus we assume an infinite series of successive worlds in the past and in the future. Plutarch, indeed, expressly says of Anaximander, that from the Infinite, as the sole cause of the birth and destruction of all things, he considered that the heavens and the innumerable worlds arise in endless circulation, 1 and Hippolytus speaks to the same effect. 2 ‘The Infinite of Anaximander, he says, ‘eternal and never growing old, embraces all the worlds; but these have each of them a set time for their arising, their existence,

1 Ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8,1: (Ἀναξίμανδρόν. φασι) τὴν πᾶσαν αἰτίαν ἔχειν τῆς τοῦ παντὸς γενέσεώς τε…καὶ φθυρᾶς. ἐξ οὗ δή φησι τούς τε οὐρανοὺς ἀποκεκρίσθαι καὶ καθόλου τοὺς ἅπαντας ἀπείρους ὄντας κόσμους. ἀπεφήνατο δὲ τὴν φθορὰν γίνεσθαι καὶ πολὺ πρότερον τὴν γένεσιν ἐξ ἀπείρου αἰῶνος ἀνακυκλουμέων πάντων αὐτῶν.
2 Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 6: οὗτος ἀρχὴν ἔφη τῶν ὄντων φύσιν τινὰ τοῦ ἀπείρου, ἐξ ἧς γίνεσθαι τοὺς οὐρανοὺς καὶ τοὺς ἐν αὐτοῖς κόσμους. ταύτην δ᾽ ἀΐδιον εἶναι καὶ ἀγήρω, ἣν καὶ πάντας περιέχειν τοὺς κόσμους. λέγει δὲ χρόνον ὡς ὡρισμένης τῆΞ γενέσεως καὶ τῆς οὐσίας καὶ τῆς φθορᾶς. These propositions seem, by the way, to be taken from another source from what follows.

|260| and their destruction.’ 1 Cicero, too, 2 makes mention of innumerable worlds, which in long periods of time arise and perish; and Stobaeus attributes to Anaximander the theory of the future destruction of the world. 3 This is also countenanced by the statement that he believed in a future drying up of the sea, 4 for in that case there would be an increasing preponderance of the fiery element, which must ultimately result in the destruction of the earth, and of the system of which it forms the centre. The same theory of a constant alternation of birth and destruction in the universe was held by Heracleitus, who approaches more closely to Anaximander than to any of the ancient Ionian physicists, and also most probably by Anaximenes and Diogenes.

1 In neither of these passages can the innumerable worlds be understood otherwise than as successive worlds. When Hippolytus directly connects with his mention of the κόσμοι the remark that the time of their beginning is determined, this can only mean that these κόσμοι have a definite duration, and we must then explain the plurality thus: there are many worlds, because each world only lasts for a time. The connection of the two propositions, that the ἄπειρον is eternal, and that it embraces all worlds—points to the same result. It might embrace all coexisting worlds even if it were not eternal; but it could only embrace successive worlds, if it outlasted them all. With Plutarch, the arising or passing away τοῦ παντὸς and the ἀνακυκλουμένων πάντων αὐτῶν, sufficiently show that successive worlds are intended.
2 In the passage quoted at length, supra, p. 255, 1, where the words, longis wintervallis orientes occidentesgue, can only apply to worlds of which one arises when the other disappears, even supposing that Cicero or his authority confused these worlds with the ἄπειροι οὐρανοὶ designated as gods by Anaximander.
3 Eclogae i. 416. Anaximander…φθαρτὸν τὸν κόσμον.
4 Theophrastus, and probably also Aristotle, supra, p. 251, 1.

We have reason, therefore, to suppose that Anaximander also held it; and that he already taught the doctrine of a perpetual vicissitude between the separation of things from the primitive |261| matter, and their return to primitive matter; as well as an endless series of worlds in succession, which was the natural result of that doctrine. 1
  Whether he likewise maintained the co-existence of an infinite number of systems, or of a plurality of systems apart from one another, as the Atomists afterwards did, is another question. Simplicius, and apparently Augustine, assert this of him; 2 and some few modern writers have agreed with them. 3 But Augustine certainly does not speak from his own knowledge, and he does not tell us his authority.

1 What Schleiermacher urges (loc. cit. 197) against this theory does not seem to me conclusive. Anaximander, he thinks (according to the texts quoted, supra, p. 229, 2, 3), could not have supposed a time in which generation was arrested, and this must have been the ease from the commencement of a world’s destruction to the arising of a new world. But in the first place, the words, ἵνα ἢ γένεσις μὴ ἐπιλείπῃ, do not assert that ‘generation may never and in no way be arrested,’ but rather that ‘the generation of perpetually new beings can never cease. It does not cease if it is continued in a new world instead of the one destroyed; and thus it becomes very questionable whether we can attribute to Anaximander a notion which, strictly understood, would exclude a beginning as well as an end of the world; namely, the notion that on account of the incessant activity of the first cause (vide sup. p. 249, 1) the world can never cease to exist. He might think that he was proving this activity all the more conclusively by making it always form a new world after the destruction of an old one. Rose’s opinion (Aristotle lib. ord. 76) that the theory of an alternative formation and destruction of worlds is a vetustissima cogitandi ratione plane aliena has been already answered in the text. We find this theory in Anaximenes, Heracleitus, and Diogenes (to all of whom, however, Rose equally denies it); and moreover in Empedocles.
2 Simplicius Physics 257 b: of μὲν γὰρ ἀπείρους τῷ πλήθει τοὺς κόσμους ὑποθέμενοι, ὡς οἱ περὶ ᾿Αναξίμανδρον καὶ Λεύκιππον καὶ Δημόκριτον καὶ ὕστερον οἱ περὶ Ἐπίκουρον, γινομένους αὐτοὺς καὶ φθειρομένους ὑπέθεντο ἐπ᾽ ἄπειριν, ἄλλων μὲν. ἀεὶ γινομένων ἄλλων δὲ φθειρομένων. Cf. inf. p. 262,2. Augustine Civ. Dei viii. 2: rerum principia singularum esse credidit infinita, et inmnumerabiles mundos gignere et quaccunque in eis oriuntur, eosque mundos modo dissolvi modo iterum gignt existimavit, quanta guisque aetate sua manere potuerit.
3 Büsgen especially, p. 18 sq. of the work mentioned (supra, p. 235, 1).

Nor is Simplicius |262| quoting from Anaximander’s writings, 1 and he clearly betrays that he is not sure of what he is saying. 2 No trustworthy evidence from any other source can be cited in favour of this philosopher’s having held such a theory, a theory, 3 which his general system not merely |263| does not require, but often actually contradicts.

1 As already observed on p. 237 sq., and clearly proved by the contradictions resulting from the comparison of the expressions shown to be his, supra, pp. 233, 1; 241, 6; 244, 1, 2.
2 Cf. De Caelo, 91 b, 34 (Schol. in Ar. 480 a, 35): of δὲ καὶ τῷ πλήθει ἀπείρους κόσμους, ὡς Ἀ᾿Αναξίμανδρος μὲν ἄπειρυν τῷ μεγέθει τὴν ἀρχὴν θέμενος, ἀπείρους ἐξ αὐτοῦ [—τῆς] τῷ πλήθει κόσμους ποιεῖν δοκεῖ. Λεύκιππος δὲ καὶ Δημόκριτος ἀπείρους τῷ πλήθει τοὺς κόσμους, etc. Ibid. 278, b 48: καὶ κόσμους ἀπείρους οὗτος καὶ ἕκαστον τῶν κόσμων ἐξ ἀπείρου τοῦ τοιούτου στοιχείου ὑπέθετο, ὡς δοκεῖ.
3 The state of the case in regard to Cicero and Philodemus has already been investigated, pp. 257; 260, 2; where the passages cited (p. 259, 1, 2) from Hippolytus and Plutarch have also been sufficiently considered. Plutarch indeed says in the preterite: τούς τε οὐρανοὺς ἀποκεκρίσθαι καὶ καθόλου τοὺς ἅπαντας ἀπείρους ὄντας κόσμους, but that proves nothing; for in the first place the κόσμοι may have the same meaning as οὐρανοὶ (cf. p. 258), and in the next, it might be said of successive worlds that an infinite number of them had come forth from the ἄπειρον; for they had already been innumerable in the past. It has also been shown (p. 257) that Stobaeus, i. 56, proves nothing. When Stobeus (i. 496) says Ἀναξίμανδρος Ἀναξιμένης Ἀpχέλαος Ξενοφάνης Διογένης Λεύκιππος Δημόφριτος ᾿Επίκουρος ἀπείρους κόσμους ὲν τῷ ἀπείρῳ κατὰ πᾶσαν περιαγωγήν. τῶν δ᾽ ἀπείρους ἀποφηναμένων τοὺς κόσμους ᾿Αναξίμανδρος τὸ ἴσον αὐτοὺς ἀπέχειν ἀλλήλων, Ἐπίκουρος ἄνισον εἶναι τὸ μεταξυ τῶν κόσμων διάστημα, his meaning no doubt is that Anaximander, like Democritus and Epicurus, believed in numberless coexistent worlds, and this likewise holds good of Theodoret (Graecorum affectionum curatio iv. 18, p. 58), who attributes to the same philosophers, enumerated in the same order as Stobaeus, πολλοὺς καὶ ἀπείρους κόσμους. Theodoret, however, is evidently not an independent witness, but has been drawing upon the text, the words of which Stobaeus gives more completely. The account itself also seems here to be very untrustworthy. For little confidence can be placed in an author who attributes the ἄπειροι κόσμοι to Anaximenes, Archelaus, and Xenophanes, and by the addition of κατὰ πᾶσαν περιαγωγὴν, which is quite inapplicable to the Atomists and Epicureans, clearly betrays that he 15 here confusing two different theories, that which makes innumerable successive worlds to proceed from tha περιαγωγαὶ (the circular motion spoken of by Plutarch, supra, p. 259, 1), and that which maintains innumerable contemporaneous worlds. What Anaximander really said concerning the equal distance οf the worlds, whether his utterance related to the distance in space of the οὐρανοὶ, or to the distance in time of the successive worlds, we cannot determine.

|263 cont.| We might imagine that it necessarily resulted from the unlimitedness of matter; but the successors of Anaximander, Anaximenes, Anaxagoras, and Diogenes, prove how, little such necessity existed at that early stage of thought. None of them find any difficulty in supposing our world to be limited, while the matter surrounding it, and not formed into any other worlds, extends itself to infinity. The reflection which Schleiermacher attributes to our philosopher, 1 that there must be many worlds, in order that death and destruction may rule in one, while life and vitality prevail in another, appears much too artificial for the time. It is, therefore, difficult to see how Anaximander could have been led to a theory which is so entirely independent of the sensible intuition, the immediate origin of all ancient cosmology. Such a theory must, indeed, have been peculiarly remote from a philosopher holding so decidedly, as Anaximander did, that every particular was derived from one first principle, and returned to it. Again. 2 Democritus was quite logical when he made his innumerable atoms, which were guided by no uniform principle, combine with one another in the most diverse parts of infinite space, and so form independent world-systems. Anaximander, on the contrary, starting from his conception of the One Unlimited which rules all things, could only arrive at the theory of a single universe, combined by the unity of the force that forms the world.

1 Loc. cit. p. 200 sq.
2 As Schleiermacher himself acknowledges, loc. cit. 241, 244.

  |264| If we now compare Anaximander’s doctrine, as represented in our present enquiry, with what we know of the doctrine of Thales, we shall find that it is far richer in content, and betokens a higher development of philosophic thought. I am not indeed inclined to ascribe any great significance to the conception which is principally dwelt on by historians as constituting the most convenient designation for Anaximander’s principle, viz., the infinity of primitive matter; for the endless succession of natural creations, which chiefly determined Anaximander in adopting it, might have been attained independently of this principle; 1 and the unlimited extension of the world in space, which would have necessitated it, was not taught, as we have seen, by this philosopher. On the other hand, it is an important fact that Anaximander should have taken for his point of departure, not a determinate substance like Thales, but indeterminate and infinite matter; and whatever may have led him to such a doctrine, it implies an advance on his part beyond merely sensuous observation. Thales said nothing about the manner in which things arise out of the primitive matter. The ‘separation’ of Anaximander is still sufficiently vague, but it is at any rate an attempt to form some notion of the process, to reduce the multiplicity of phenomena to the most general oppositions, and to attain a physical theory of the genesis of the world, free from the mythical elements of the ancient theogonic cosmology. The ideas of Anaximander on the system of the world, and the origin of living beings, not only show reflection, but have exercised |265| important influence on subsequent philosophy.

1 As Aristotle observes, vide supra, p. 229, 3.

|265 cont.| Finally, he admitted a beginning as well as an end of our world, and an infinite series of successive worlds. This doctrine evinces remarkable consistency of thought. It is besides the first step towards the abandonment of the mythical notion of the origin of the world in time, and through the idea that creative force can never have been idle, it prepared the way for the Aristotelian doctrine of the eternity of the world.
  I cannot, however, agree in the opinion that Anaximander should be separated from Thales and from his successors, and assigned to a special order of development. This opinion has been maintained in modern times and on opposite grounds by Schleiermacher 1 and Ritter: 2 by Schleiermacher, because he sees in Anaximander the commencement of speculative natural science; by Ritter, because he regards him as the founder of the mechanical and more experimental physics. With reference to the latter, it has already been shown that Anaximander’s theory of nature has as little a mechanical character as that of his predecessor or immediate successors, and that he especially approximates to Heracleitus, the typical dynamist. For the same reasons, Schleiermacher is incorrect in asserting that, in contrast with Thales and Anaximenes, his tendency is more towards the particular than the universal; for Anaximander was remarkably strict in upholding the unity of animate nature. 3

1 On Anaximander, loc. cit. p. 188; Geschichte der Philosophie 25, 31 sq.
2 Geschichte der Philosophie i. 214, 280 sqq., 345; cf. Gesch. der Ion. Phil. 177 sq., 202.
3 Vide supra, p. 256, and Schleiermacher on Anaximander. p. 241, who is styled by him the philosopher ‘whose whole enquiry know hardly anything, except that inclines so decidedly to the side of unity and the subordination of all oppositions.’

He admits, indeed, that |266| contraries emanate from the primitive substance; but this proves nothing, since Anaximenes and Diogenes hold the same opinion. Lastly, I must dispute the assertion of Ritter 1 that Anaximander owed nothing to Thales. Even supposing that from a material point of view he appropriated none of Thales’ ideas, it was formally of the highest importance that Thales should first have instituted the enquiry concerning the universal principle of all things. We have, however, already seen that Anaximander was probably connected with Thales, not only by his hylozoism, but by the particular theory of the liquid state of the earth in its commencement. If we farther consider that he was a fellow citizen and younger contemporary of Thales, and that both philosophers were well known and highly esteemed in their native city, it seems unlikely that no impulse should have been received by the younger from the elder; and that Anaximander, standing midway chronologically between his two compatriots, Thales and Anaximenes, should be isolated from them scientifically. The contrary will become still more apparent when we see the influence exercised by Anaximander over his own immediate successor.

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iii. Anaximenes 2

  The philosophic theory of Anaximenes is generally described by the proposition that the principle or ground |267| of all things is air. 1a

1 Geschichte der Philosophie i, 214.
2 Of the life of Anaximenes we know hardly anything, except that he came from Miletus, and that his father’s name was Euristratus (Diogenes L. ii. 3; Simplicius Physics 6 a). Later writers represent him as a disciple (Cicero Academica ii. 37, 118; Diogenes L. ii. 3; Augustine Civitas Dei viii. 2); friend (Simplicius loc. cit. De Caelo, 273 b, 45; Scholium 514 a, 33); acquaintance (Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica x. 14, 7); or successor (Clement Stromata i. 301 A. Theodoret Graecorum affectionum curatio ii. 9, p. 22, Augustine loc. cit.) of Anaximander. Though it is probable, from the relation of their doctrines, that there was some connection between the two philosophers, these statements are clearly based, not on historical tradition, but on a mere combination, which, however, has more foundation than the strange statement (ap. Diogenes L. ii. 3) that he was a pupil of Parmenides. According to Apollodorus, in Diogenes L. loc. cit., he was born in the 63rd Olympiad (528-524 BC), and died about the time of the conquest of Sardis. If by the latter is meant the conquest by the Ionians under Darius in the 70th Olympiad (499 BC), Which is used nowhere else as a chronokogical epoch, Anaximenes would have died 45-48 years after Anaximander; on the other hand, in that case, Ol. 63 would seem much too late for his birth. To obviate this difficulty Hermann (Philos. Ion. aet.P 9, 21) proposes to substitute for Ol. 63, Ol. 45 (as given in Euseb. Chronicon); and Röth (Gesch. der Abendl. Phil. ii. a. 242 sq.) Ol. 53. As, however, Hippolytus (Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 7, end) places the prime of Anaximenes in Ol. 58, 1, Diels (Rhein-Museum xxxi. 27) is probably right in his conjecture that the passage in Diogenes should be thus transposed: γεγένηται μὲν…περὶ τὴν Σάρδεων ἅλωσιν, ἐτελεύτησε δὲ τῇ ἑξηκοστῇ τρίτῃ ὀλυμπιάδι, and that Suidas thence derives his statement: γέγονε ἐν τῇ νέ ὀλυμπιάδι ἐν τῇ Σάρδεων ἅλώσει ὅτε Κῦρος ὁ Πέρσης Κροῖσον καθεῖλεν. Only, says Diels, Suidas or some later interpolator has wrongly introduced Eusebius’s date ἐν τῇ νέ ὀλυμπιάδι. The conquest of Sardis that Diogenes means is the conquest by Cyrus (Ol. 58, 3, or 546 BC), and the word, γέγονεν, or γεγένηται (as is often the case) relates not to the birth, but to the time of life, the ἀκμή. The work of Anaximenes, a small fragment of which has been handed down to us, was, according to Diogenes, written in the Ionic dialect; the two insignificant letters to Pythagoras, which we find in Diogenes, are of course apocryphal.
1a Aristotle Metaphysics i. 3, 984 a, 5, ᾿Αναξιμένης δὲ ἀέρα καὶ Διογένης πρότερον ὕδατος καὶ μάλιστ᾽ ἀρχὴν τιθέασι τῶν ἁπλῶν σωμάτων, and all later writers without exception.

|267 cont.| That he meant by air something different from the element of that name, and distinguished air, the elementary substance, from the atmospheric air, 2 cannot be proved, nor is it probable. He says indeed that air in its pure condition is invisible, and that it is only perceptible through the sensations of its coldness, warmth, moisture, and motion; 3 but this

2 As is assumed by Ritter, i. 217, and still more decidedly by Brandis, i. 144.
3 Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 7: ᾿Αναξιμένης δὲ…τὴν ἀρχὴν εἶναι, ἐξ οὗ τὰ γενόμενα τὰ γεγονότα καὶ τὰ ἐσόμενα καὶ θεοὺς καὶ θεῖα γίνεσθαι. τὰ δὲ λοιπὰ ἐκ τῶν τούτου ἀπογόνων. τὸ δὲ ἀέρα ἄπειρον ἔφη εἶδος τοῦ ἀέρος τοιοῦτον: ὅταν μὲν ὅμαλώτατος ἢ, ὕψει ἄδηλον, δηλοῦσθαι δὲ τῷ ψυχρῷ καὶ τῷ θερμῷ καὶ τῷ νοτερᾧ καὶ τῷ κινουμένῳ.

|268| is perfectly applicable to the air around us, and our authorities evidently so understand it, for they none of them ever allude to such a distinction, and the majority of their texts expressly designate the primitive matter of Anaximenes as one of the four elements, as a qualitatively determined body. 1 On the other hand, he ascribed one property to the air, which Anaximander had already employed to discriminate primitive being from all things derived; he defined it as infinite in regard to quantity. This is not only universally attested by later writers, 2 but Anaximenes himself implies such an opinion 3 in saying that the air embraces the whole world; for when the air is conceived as not comprehended by the vault of heaven, it is much easier to imagine it spread out to infinity than to place any definite bound to so volatile a substance. Moreover

1 E. g. Aristotle, loc. cit., and Physics i. 4: Plutarch ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8, 3: ’Αναξιμένην δέ φασι τὴν τῶν ὅλων ἀρχὴν τὸν ἀέρα εἰπεῖν καὶ τοῦτον εἶναι τῷ μὲν γένει ἄπειρον ταῖς δὲ περὶ αὐτὸν ποιότησιν ὡρισμένον. Simplicius Physics 6 a, u: μίαν μὲν τὴν ὑποκειμένην φύσιν καὶ ἄπειρόν φησιν…οὐκ ἀόριστον δὲ. ἀλλὰ ὡρισμένην, ἀέρα λέγων αὐτήν. So De Caelo, vide infra, p. 270, 3.
2 Plutarch and Hippolytus, vide the two previous notes. Cicero Academica ii. 37, 118: Anaximenes infinitum aera; sed ea, quae ex eo orirentur definita. De Natura Deorum i. 10, 26: Anaximenes aera deum statuit, eumque gigni (a misapprehension on which cf. Krische, i. 55) esseque immensum et infinitum et semper in motu; Diogenes L. ii. 3: οὗτος ἀρχὴν ἀέρα εἶπε καὶ τὸ ἄπειρον; Simplicius, Physics 5 b: ᾿Αναξίμανδρον, καὶ ᾿Αναξιμένην…ἕν μὲν, ἄπειρον δὲ τῷ μεγέθει τὸ στοιχεῖον ὑποθεμένους: ἐῤῖά. 6 a, vide preceding note; ibid. 105 b, vide supra, b. 219, 1; thid. 273 b: ἐν τῷ ἀπείρῷ…τῷ ᾿Αναξίμένους καὶ ᾿Αναξιμάνδρου. Also Simplicius, De Caelo, vide infra; ibid. 91 b, 32 (Schol. 480 a, 35): ’Aναξιμένης τὸν ἀέρα ἄπειρον ἀρχὴν εἶναι λέγων.
3 In the words quoted by Ps-Plutarch Placita i. 3, 6 (Stobaeus Eclogae i. 296): οἷον ἣ ψυχὴ ἣ ἡμετέρα ὰὴρ οὖσα συγκρατεῖ ἡμᾶς, καὶ ὅλον τὸν κόσμον πνεῦμα καὶ ἀὴρ περιέχει.

|269| Aristotle 1 mentions the theory according to which the world is surrounded by the boundless air. This passage, it is true, may also apply to Diogenes or Archelaus, but Aristotle seems to ascribe the infinity of primitive matter to all those who consider the world to be surrounded by this matter. We can scarcely doubt therefore that Anaximenes adopted this conception of Anaximander. He also agrees with him in the opinion that the air is in constant movement, is perpetually changing its forms, 2 and consequently perpetually generating new things derived from it; but what kind of movement this is, our authorities do not inform us. 3

1 Physics iii. 4; vide supra, p. 219, 2; ibid. c. 6, 206 b, 23: ὥσπερ φασὶν οἱ φυσιολόγοι, τὸ ἔξω σῶμα τοῦ κόσμου, οὗ ἢ οὐσία ἢ ἄλλο τι τοιοῦτον, ἄπειρον εἶναι. Cf. Also the passage quoted on p. 242, 1; De Caelo, iii. 5.
2 Plutarch ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8, according to the quotation on p. 268, 1: γεννᾶσθαι δὲ πάντα κατά τινα πύκνωσιν τούτου, καὶ πάλιν ἀραίωσιν. τήν γε μὴν κίνησιν ἐξ αἰῶνος ἀπάρχειν. Cicero De Natura Deorum i. 10 (note 1). Hippolytus according to the quotation, sup. p. 267, 1: κινεῖσθαι δὲ καὶ ἀεί: οὐ γὰρ μεταβάλλειν ὅσα μεταβάλλει, εἰ μὴ κινοῖτο. Simplicius Physics 6 a: κίνησιν δὲ καὶ οὗτος ἀΐδιον ποιεῖ δι᾽ ἣν καὶ τὴν μεταβολὴν γίνεσθαι. The reason why he was nevertheless reproached, Ps-Plutarch Placita i. 3, 7, for recognising no moving cause, is well explained by Krische, Forschungen 54, in reference to Aristotle Metaphysics i. 3, 984 a, 16 sqq.
3 Teichmüller (Studien, etc. p. 76 sqq.) thinks, as in regard to Anaximander (sup. p. 252, 1), that this was a revolving motion; that the infinite air was supposed to rotate from eternity. I cannot acquiesce in this view, if only for the reason that not one of our authorities recognises such a theory. A rotation of the Unlimited seems to me in itself so contradictory a notion that we ought not to ascribe it to Anaximenes, except on overwhelming evidence; if we would represent to ourselves the eternal motion of matter, the analogy of the atmospheric air would far more readily support the theory of a swinging movement. Teichmüller appeals to Aristotle De Caelo, ii. 13, 295 a, 9: (ὥστ᾽ εἰ βίᾳ νῦν ἢ γῆ μένει, καὶ συνῆλθεν ἐπὶ τὸ μέσον φερομένη διὰ τὴν δίνησιν: ταύτην γὰρ τὴν αἰτίαν πάντες λέγουσιν, διὸ δὴ καὶ τὴν γῆν πάντες ὅσοι τὸν οὐρανὸν γεννῶσιν, ἐπὶ τὸ μέσον συνελθεῖν φασίν); but this passage (even apart from what will be observed concerning it later on) seems to me of small importance in the question; for it does not say whether the whirling motion which, in the formation of the world carried the terrestrial substances into the centre, existed before these substances; and this by no means necessarily follows. Democritus, for instance, does not conceive the atoms as originally whirling; that movement arises only at certain points from the percussion of the atoms.

Lastly, it is said |270| of him, as of Anaximander, that he declared his primitive matter to be the divinity; 1 whether he expressly did so is questionable and improbable, since like his predecessor (vide supra) he reckoned the gods among created beings. But in point of fact, the statement is not untrue, because, for him also, primitive matter was at the same time primitive force, and so far, the creative cause of the world. 2
  Simplicius says 3 that Anaximenes made air his first principle because of its variable nature, which especially fits it to be the substratum of changing phenomena. According to the utterances of Anaximenes himself, 4 he seems to have been led to this theory chiefly by the analogy of the world with a living being. It appeared to him (in agreement with the ancient opinion, founded on the evidence of the senses) that in men and animals the expiration and inspiration of the air is the cause of life, and of the cohesion of the body; for when the breathing ceases or is hindered, life becomes extinct, |271| the body decomposes and perishes.

1 Cicero, De Natura Deorum loc. cit.; Stobaeus Eclogae i. 56: Ἀναξ. τὸν ἀέρα (θεὸν ἀπεφήνατο); Lactantius, Inst. i. 5, p. 18: Bip. Cleanthes et Anaximenes aethera dicunt esse summum Deum. Here, however, aether is used in the modern sense, Tert. contr. Marc. i. 13, Anaximenes aerum (Deum pronuntiavit).
2 Röth (Gesch. der Abendl. Phil. ii. a, 250 sqq.) opposes Anaximenes to Xenophanes, and says that he started from the concept of spirit as the primitive divinity. He calls him accordingly the first spiritualist. But this gives a very false notion of the import of his principle, and the way in which he arrived at it.
3 De Caelo, 273 b, 45; Schol. in Aristotle 514 a, 33: Αναξίμενης δὲ ἑταῖρος ᾿Αναξιμάνδρου καὶ πολίτης ἄπειρον μὲν καὶ αὐτὸς ὑπέθετο τὴν ἀρχὴν, οὐ μὴν ἔτι ἀόριστον, ἀέρα γὰρ ἔλεγεν εἶναι, οἰόμενος ἀρκεῖν τὸ τοῦ ἀέρος εὐαλλοίωτον πρὸς μεταβολήν.
4 Vide supra, p. 268, 3.

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|271 cont.| It was natural for Anaximenes to suppose that such might also be the case with the world. For the belief that the world was animate was very ancient, and had already been introduced into physics by his predecessors. So in the manifold and important effects of the air, which are patent to observation, he readily found proof that it is the air which moves and produces all things. But philosophy had not yet attained to the discrimination of motive cause from matter. The above announcement, therefore, was equivalent to saying that the air is the primitive matter; and this theory was likewise supported Ly common observation, and by a conjecture which might easily occur to the mind. Rain, hail, and snow, on the one hand, and fiery phenomena on the other, may equally be regarded as products of the air. Thus the idea might easily arise that the air must be the matter out of which all the other bodies are formed, some of them tending upwards, and others downwards: and this opinion might likewise be based on the apparently unlimited diffusion of the air in space, especially as Anaximander had declared the infinite to be the primitive substance.
  All things then, says Anaximenes, spring from the air by rarefaction or by condensation. 1

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1 Aristotle (Physics i. 4, sub init. De Caelo, iii. 5, sub init. vide supra, p. 243, 1) ascribes this theory to a whole class of natural philosophers: It was so peculiar to Anaximenes that Theophrastus assigns it to him alone (perhaps, however, he means alone among the earliest philosophers), vide supra, p. 224, 2, For further testimony, cf. Plutarch De primo frigido 7, 3, supra, p. 272, 2; Plutarch ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8, 8, supra, p. 269, 2; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 7; Hermias, Irris. 6. 3; Simplicius Physics 6 a; 32 a. The expressions by which rarefaction and condensation are designated are various. Aristotle says μάνωσις and πύκνωσις; instead of μάνωσις, Plutarch and Simplicius have ἀραίωσις, ἀραιοῦσθαι; Hermias has ἀραιούμενος καὶ διαχόμενος; Hippolytus, ὅταν εἰς τὸ ἀραιότερον διαχυθῆ. According to Plutarch, De primo frigido (cf. Simplicius Physics 44b), Anaximenes himself seems to have spoken of concentration, of relaxation, extension or loosening. The Anaximandrian doctrine of separation is only attributed to him in Mörbeke’s retranslation (Ald. 46 a, m) of Simplicius; De Caelo, 91 b, 43; (Scholium 480 a, 44): the genuine text has instead οἱ δὲ ἐξ ἑνὸς πάντα γίνεσθαι λέγουσι κατ᾽ εὐθεῖαν (so that the transmutation of matters only follows one direction, and does not go on ina circle, as with Heracleitus): ὡς ᾿Αναξίμανδρος καὶ Αναξίμενης. In Physics 44 a, rarefaction and condensation are explained by Simplicius in his own name, as σύγκρισις and διάκρισις.

These processes |272| he seems to have regarded as resulting from the movement of the air. 1 Rarefaction he makes synonymous with heating, and condensation with cooling. 2 The stages through which matter has to pass in the course of these transformations he describes somewhat unmethodically. By rarefaction air changes into fire; by condensation it becomes wind, then clouds, then water, then earth, lastly stones. From these simple bodies compound bodies are then formed. 3

1 Vide supra, p. 269, 2.cf. p. 270.
2 Plutarch De primo frigido 7, 3, p. 947: ἢ καθάπερ ᾿Αναξιμένης ὃ παλαιὸς ᾧετο, μήτε τὸ ψυχρὸν ἐν οὐσίᾳ μήτε τὸ θερμὸν ἀπολείπωμεν, ἀλλὰ πάθη κοινὰ τῆς ὕλης ἐπιγινόμενα ταῖς μεταβολαῖς τὸ γὰρ συστελλόμενον αὐτῆς καὶ πυκνούμενον ψυχρὸν εἶναί φησι, τὸ δὲ ἀραιὸν καὶ τὸ χαλαρὸν (οὕτω πως ὀνομάσας καὶ τῷ ῥήματι) θερμόν. In support of this, as is further observed, Anaximenes urged that the air which is breathed out with the open mouth is warm, and that which is ejected in closing the lips is cold; the explanation given by Aristotle being that the one is the air inside the mouth, and the other the air outside it, Hippolytus loc. cit. (b. 267, 3, and note 3, infra). According to Porphyry, ap. Simplicius Physics 41 a, Ald. Anaximenes regarded the moist and the dry as fundamental contraries; this statement is, however, open to suspicion; the more so, because Simplicius bases it upon a hexameter, which he says emanated from Anaximenes, but which is elsewhere ascribed to Xenophanes (vide infra, chapter on Xenophanes), and which cannot have been taken from the prose of Anaximenes. Most likely, as Brandis thinks (Schol. 338 b, 31, loc. cit.), Ξενοφάνην should be substituted for ᾿Αναξιμένην.
3 Simpl. Physics 32 a; and previously in the same terms, p. 6 a: ᾿Αναξιμένης ἀραιούμενον μὲν τὸν ἀέρα πῦρ γίνεσθαί φησι, πυκνούμενον δὲ ἄνεμον, εἶτα νέφος, εἶτα ἔτι μᾶλλον ὕδωρ, εἶτα γῆν, εἶτα λίθους, τὸ δὲ ἄλλα ἐκ τούτων. Hippolytus after the passage quoted p. 267, 3: πυκνούμενον γὰρ καὶ ἀραιούμενον διάφορον φαίνεσθαι ὅταν γὰρ εἰς τὸ ἀραιότερον διαχυθῇ πῦρ γίνεσθαι, μέσως δὲ ἐπὰν εἰς ἀέρα πυκνούμενον ἐξ ἀέρος νέφος ἀποτελεσθῇ κατὰ τὴν πόλησιν, instead of which, perhaps, we should read: μέσως δὲ πάλιν εἰς ἀέρα, πυκν. ἐξ ἀέρ. νέφ. ἀποτελεῖσθαι κ. τ. πίλησιν—as Röper (Philol. vii. 610), and Duncker (in his edition) contend—perhaps, however, ὰνέμους may be concealed in the μέσως, and the following words should be otherwise amended: ἔτι δὲ μᾶλλον ὕδωρ, ἐπὶ πλεῖον πυκνωθέντα γῆν, καὶ εἰς τὸ μάλιστα πυκνώτατον λίθους. ὥστε τὰ κυριώτατα τῆς γενέσεως ἐναντία εἶναι θερμόν τε καὶ ψυχρόν…ἀνέμους δὲ γεννᾶσθαι, ὅταν ἐκπεπυκνωμένυςὁ 6 ἀὴρ ἀραιωθεὶς φέρηται (which no doubt means, when the condensed air spreads itself out anew; unless we should substitute for ἀραιωθείς, ἀρθείς, carried up aloft, which, in spite of the greater weight of the condensed air, would be quite as possible in itself as the presence (p. 274, 2) of earth-like bodies in the heavens), συνελθόντα δὲ καὶ ἐπὶ πλεῖον παχυθέντα νέφη γεννᾶσθαι [γενγᾷν, or, συνελθόντος καὶ ἐπὶ πλεῖον παχυθέντος ν. γεννᾶσθαι], καὶ οὕτως εἰς ὕδωρ μεταβάλλειν.

The texts |273| therefore which suppose Anaximenes to have fixed the number of the elements at four, 1 are to be considered inexact as to this point.
  In the formation of the world, the condensation of the air first produced the earth, 2 which Anaximenes conceived as broad and flat, like the slab of a table, and for that reason, supported by the air. 3

1 Cicero Academica ii. 37, 118: gigni autem terram aquam ignem tum ex his omnia, Hermias loc. cit.; Nemes. Nat. Hom. c. 5, p. 74, has the same, but less precisely.
2 Plutarch ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8, 3: πιλουμένου δὲ τοῦ ἀέρος πρώτην γεγενῆσθαι λέγειν τὴν γῆν. The same follows from the theory that the stars first arose out of the vapours of the earth. How the earth came first to be formed, and took its place in the centre of the universe, is not explained. The words πιλουμένου τοῦ ἀέρος in Plutarch admit of the notion that in the condensation of the air the densest parts sank downwards. Instead of this, Teichmüller (loc. cit. p. 83) prefers to account for it by the theory of the whirling motion (of which we have spoken supra, p. 269, 3); but the passage from Aristotle, De Caelo, ii. 13, there quoted, does not seem to me to justify this course; for the word πάντες in this passage cannot be so scrained as to include every individual philosopher who ever constructed a cosmogony. For example, Plato (Tim. 40 B) knows nothing of the δίνησις. Heracleitus never mentions it, and the Pythagoreans did not place the earth in the centre of the universe.
3 Aristotle, De Caelo, ii. 13, 294 b, 13; Plutarch ap. Eusebius loc. cit.; Ps-Plutarch Placita iii. 10, 3, where Ideler, without any reason, would substitute Ἀναξαγόρας for Ἀναξιμένης, Hippolytus loc. cit.

He ascribed |274| the same form to the sun and stars, which he likewise thought were floating in the air; 1 in regard to their origin, he supposed that the increasing rarefaction of the vapours ascending from the earth produced fire; and that this fire, pressed together by the force of the rotation of the heavens, formed the stars, to which a terrestrial nucleus was therefore ascribed. 2

1 Hippolytus loc. cit.: τὴν δὲ γῆν πλατεῖαν εἶναι ἐπ᾿ ἀέρος ὀχουμένην ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ ἥλιον καὶ σελήνην καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ἄστρα. πάντα γὰρ πύρινα ὄντα ἐποχεῖσθαι τῷ ἀέρι διὰ πλάτος. The flatness of the sun is also spoken of by Stobaeus, i. 524; Placita ii. 22, 1 (Ἀναξ. πλατὺν ὡς πέταλον τὸν ἥλιον). Of the stars, on the contrary, the same authorities (Eclogae i. 510; Placita ii. 14) say that Anaximenes made them ἥλων δίκην καταπεπηγέναι τῷ κρυσταλλοειδεῖ: and in accordance with this, Ps-Galen (Historia philosopha 12) says: Ἀναξ. Τὴν περιφορὰν τὴν ἐξωτάτην γηΐνην εἶναι (Placita ii. 11, 1). Our text has instead: τὴν περιφορὰν τὴν ἐξωτάτω τῆς γῆς εἶναι τὸν οὐρανόν; but the Ps-Galen here seems to give the original reading. It is possible then that Anaximenes, as Teichmüller (loc. cit. 86 sqq.) supposes, made only the sun, moon and planets float in the air, and considered the fixed stars as fastened into the crystalline vault of heaven, in whatever way he may have explained the origin of this latter (Teichmüller thinks that like Empedocles, Placita ii. 11, 1,he supposed it to be formed of air liquified by the action of fire). But in that case Hippolytus must have expressed himself very inaccurately.
2 Hippolytus loc. cit.: γεγονέναι δὲ τὰ ἄστρα ἐκ γῆς διὰ τὸ τὴν ἰκμάδα ἐκ ταύτης ἀνίστασθαι, is ἀραιουμένης τὸ πῦρ γίνεσθαι, ἐκ δὲ τοῦ πυρὸς μετεωριζομένου τοὺς ἀστέρας συνίστασθαι. εἶναι δὲ καὶ γεώδεις φύσεις ἐν τῷ τόπῳ τῶν ἀστέρων συμφερομένας ἐκείνοις (or, according to Stobaeus i. 510: πυρίνην μὲν τὴν φύσιν τῶν ἀστέρων, περιέχειν δέ τινα καὶ γεώδη σώματα συμπεριφερόμενα τούτοις ἀόρατα). Plutarch ap. Eusebius loc. cit.: τὸν ἥλιον καὶ τὴν σελήνην καὶ τὰ λοιπὰ ἄστρα τὴν ἀρχὴν τῆς γενέσεως ἔχειν ἐκ γῆς. ἀποφαίνεται γοῦν τὸν ἥλιον γῆν, διὰ δὲ τὴν ὀξεῖαν κίνησιν καὶ μάλ᾽ ἱκανῶς θερμοτάτην κίνησιν (perhaps θερμότητα should be read here without κίνησιν) λαβεῖν. Theodoret asserts (Graecorum affectionum curatio iv. 23, p. 59) that Anaximenes held that the stars consisted of pure fire. This assertion, which was probably taken from the commencement of the notice preserved by Stobaeus, must be judged of in the light of the foregoing texts.

He is said to have been the first to discover that the moon takes her light from the sun, and the reason of lunar |275| eclipses. 1 The stars, he thought, moved, not from the zenith towards the nadir, but laterally round the earth, and the sun at night disappeared behind the northern mountains; 2

1 Eudemus ap. Theo. (Dercyllides), Astrom. p. 324 Mart.
2 Hippolytus loc. cit.: ob κινεῖσθαι δὲ ὑπὸ γῆν τὰ ἄστρα λέγει καθὼς ἕτεροι ὑπειλήφασιν, ἀλλὰ περὶ γῆν, ὡσπερεὶ περὶ τὴν ἡμετέραν κεφαλὴν στρέϕεται τὸ πιλίον, κρὐπτεσθαί τε τὸν ἥλιον οὐχ ὑπὸ γῆν γενόμενον, ἀλλ᾽ ὑπὸ τῶν τῆς γῆς ὑψηλοτέρων μερῶν σκεπόμενον, καὶ διὰ τὴν πλείονα ἡμῶν αὐτοῦ γενομένην ἀπόστασιν. Stobaeus i. 510: οὐχ ὑπὸ τὴν γῆν δὲ, ἀλλὰ περὶ αὐτὴν στρέφεσθαι τοὺς ἀστέρας. According to these testimonies (that of Hippolytus especially, seems to come from a trustworthy source), we should include Anaximenes among those of whom Aristotle says in Meteorologica ii. 1, 354 a, 28: τὸ πολλοὺς πεισθῆναι τῶν ἀρχαίων μετεωρολόγων τὸν ἥλιον μὴ φέρεσθαι ὑπὸ γῆν, ἀλλὰ περὶ τὴν γῆν καὶ τὸν τόπον τοῦτον, ἀφανίζεσθαι δὲ καὶ ποιεῖν νύκτα διὰ τὸ ὑψηλὴν εἶναι πρὸς ἄρκτον τὴν γῆν. Anaximenes is the only philosopher, so far as we know, who had recourse to the mountains of the north, for the explanation of the sun’s nightly disappearance, and there is besides so great a similarity between the words of Hippolytus concerning him, and those of Aristotle concerning the ancient meteorologists, that We may even conjecture with some probability that Aristotle is here thinking specially of Anaximenes. Teichmüller thinks (loc. cit. p. 96) that the words, ἀρχαῖοι μετεωρολόγοι, do not relate to physical theories, but like the ἀρχαῖοι καὶ διατρίβοντες περὶ τὰς θεολυγίας, at the beginning of the chapter, to mythical ideas about the ocean, on which Helios fares back during the night from west to east. This interpretation cannot be based upon the context, for there is no connection between the two passages, which are besides widely separated from each other. The mode of expression also is decidedly against such a view. Aristotle always calls the representatives of mythical and half-mythical cosmologies theologians; by μετεωρολογία, on the other hand (μετεωρολόγος is never used by him except in this passage), he understands (Meteorologica i. 1 sub init.) a specific branch of natural science (μέρος τῆς μεθόδου ταὐτης). and in this, as he expressly remarks (loc. cit.), he agrees with the ordinary use of the words; meteorology, meteorosophy, and the like, being common expressions to designate natural philosophers. Cf. for example, Aristophanes, Clouds 228; Xenophon Symposium 6, 6; Plato, Apology 18 B, 23 D; Protagoras 315 C. We know that Anaxagoras, Diogenes and Democritus also made the sun go laterally round the earth (infra, vol. i.). Now it might seem that if Anaximenes conceived the segment of the circle which the sun describes between his rising and setting above the horizon, to be continued and completed into a whole circle, he must necessarily have supposed it to be carried beneath the earth. But even if this circle cut the plane of our horizon, it would not therefore be carried under the earth, that is, under the base of the cylinder on the upper side of which we live (cf. p. 273, 3); it would form a ring passing round this cylinder, obliquely indeed, but still laterally; it would go not ὑπὸ γῆν, but περὶ γῆν. As Anaximenes made this circle dip at a certain distance from the northern edge of the earth’s habitable surface, which edge, according to his geographical ideas, would not be very far from the northern shore of the Black Sea, he might well believe that without some elevation of the earth at this, its northern verge, the sun would not entirely disappear from us, and that in spite of such elevation, some of its light would penetrate to us even at night, if it were not diminished (according to the opinion of Hippolytus) by the great distance. But I by no means exclude the possibility that, according to Anaximenes, the sun and stars (of the stars, indeed, he expressly says this) and by inference the planets (if he supposed the fixed stars to be fastened into the firmament, vide p. 274, 1) may have descended at their setting, either not at all, or very little below the surface of the horizon. As he imagined them to be fiat like leaves (vide p. 274, 1) and, therefore, borne along by the air, he might easily suppose that when they reached the horizon, the resistance of the air would hinder their farther sinking (vide the following note). What has now been said will, I hope, serve to show the true value of Röth’s strictures (Gesch. der abendl. Phil. 258) on those who cannot see that a lateral motion of the stars is absolutely impossible with Anaximenes. Teichmüller (loc. cit.) admits that he held a lateral rotation of the sun around the earth, a rotation in which the axis of its orbit stands obliquely to the horizon. Only he thinks that after its setting it does not move close round the earth, or upon the earth behind the high northern mountains (p. 103)—a notion which, so far as I know, no one has hitherto ascribed to Anaximenes. In the Placita ii. 16, 4, and therefore, also in Ps-Galen, c. 12, we read, instead of the words quoted above from Stobaeus i. 510: ᾿Αναξιμένης, ὁμοίως ὑπὸ (Galen, manifestly erroneously, reads ἐπὶ) τὴν γῆν καὶ περὶ αὐτὴν στρέφεσθαι τοὺς ἀστέρας. Teichmüller concludes from this passage (p. 98) that the motion of the sun (of the heavenly bodies) is the same above and beneath the earth, that the circular movement of the firmament has the same radius above and below. But περὶ does not mean above, and whatever kind of motion it might in itself characterise, as contrasted with ὑπὸ (this we have already seen in the passages from Aristotle, Hippolytus and Stobaeus), it can only be used for a circular lateral movement. In the Placita, it seems to me we have simply an unskilful correction, occasioned perhaps by some mutilation or corruption of the true text, and authenticated by the other writers.

the circular form of their |276| orbits he attributed to the resistance of the air. 1

1 Stobaeus, i. 524, says: Ἀναξιμένης πύρινον ὑπάρχειν τὸν ἥλιον ἀπεφήνατο. ὑπὸ πεπυκνωμένου δὲ ἀέρος καὶ ἀντιτύπον ἐξωθούμενα τὰ ἄστρα τὰς τροπὰς ποιεῖσθαι. Similarly Placita ii. 23, 1: Ἀ. ὑπὸ πεπυκνωμένου ἀέρος καὶ ἀντιτύπου ἐεωθεῖσθαι τὰ ἄστρα. In both authors this stands under the heading περὶ τροπῶν ἡλίου (in Stobaeus, περὶ οἰσίας ἡλίου…καὶ τροπῶν, etc.), and they probably, therefore, meant what are usually called the two solstices, which Anaximenes might have explained in this manner consistently with his notion of the sun. It is noticeable, however, that they both speak of the displacement (Stobaeus says also τροπαὶ) of the ἄστρα, to which τροπαὶ in this sense are not elsewhere attributed. It is, therefore, probable that the proposition ascribed by these writers to Anaximenes had originally another meaning, and signified that the stars were forced by the resistance of the wind from the direction of their course. The expression employed does not hinder this interpretation. Aristotle himself speaks (De Caelo, ii. 14, 296 b, 4) of τροπαὶ τῶν ἄστρων; Meteorologica ii. 1, 353 b, 8, of τροπαὶ ἡλίου καὶ σελήνης; and ibid. 345 a, 25, of τροπαὶ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ; and Anaxagoras, who is so often allied with Anaximenes in his astronomical theories, taught, according to HHippolytus i. 8, line 37: τροπὰς δὲ πυιεῖσθαι καὶ ἥλιον καὶ σελήνην ἀπωθουμένους ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀέρος. σελήνην δὲ πολλάκις τρέπεσθαι διὰ τὸ μὴ δύνασθαι κρατεῖν τοῦ ψυχροῦ. Τροπὴ seems to designate every change in the orbit of the heavenly bodies, which altered the previous direction of their course. Thus the proposition of Anaximenes quoted above must have been intended to explain, not the sun’s deviation at the solstices, but the circular orbit of the heavenly bodies—those, at least, which are not fixed in the firmament. At the same time, however, it may be that he wishes to explain why their orbits are continued without descending, or in descending very little, beneath the plane of our horizon, vide previous note. By τροπαὶ he would mean in that case the inflexion in the curves described by them.

In the stars no doubt we must look for the created gods of |277| whom Anaximenes, as well as Anaximander, is said to have spoken; 1 but the same doubt arises in his case as in Anaximander’s, viz., whether the infinitely many worlds ascribed to him 2 relate to the stars or to an infinite series of successive systems. 3 However this may be, we are justified by the testimonies of Stobaeus 4 and

1 Hippolytus vide supra, b. 267, 3; Augustine Civitas Dei viii. 2: omnes rerum causas infinito aéri dedit: nec deos negavit aut tacuit: non tamen ab ipsis atrem factum, sed ipsos ex aëre factos credidit; and after him, Sidon. Apoll. xv. 87; cf. Krische, Forschungen 55 sq.
2 Stobaeus Eclogae i. 496; Theodoret Graecorum affectionum curatio iv. 15, p. 58.
3 That he did not assume a plurality of co-existent systems, is expressly stated by Simplicius, vide p. 278, 1.
4 Loc. cit. 416: Ἀναξίμανδρος, Ἀναξιμένης, Ἀναξαγόρας, Ἀρχέλαος, Διογένης, Λεύκιππος φθαρτὸν τὸν κόσμυν, καὶ οἱ Στωϊκοὶ φθαρτὸν τὸν κόσμον, κατ᾽ ἐκπύρωσιν δέ. The destruction of the world by fire is here ascribed, not to Anaximander, etc., but only to the Stoics; though it is not improbable that Anaximander also held it. Vide supra, p. 260.

|278| Simplicius, 1 which mutually support and complete one another, in attributing to him the doctrine of an alternate construction and destruction of the world.
  The hypotheses concerning the origin of rain, snow, hail, lightning, the rainbow, 2 and earthquakes, 3 which are ascribed to Anaximenes, sometimes on good authority, are for us of secondary importance; and his theory of the nature of the soul, 4 based chiefly upon the ordinary popular opinion, he himself does not seem to have further developed.
  This survey of the doctrines attributed to Anaximenes may now enable us to determine the question already raised: did Anaximenes owe nothing to Anaximander except in some minor points of his enquiry? 5 It seems to me that his philosophy taken as a whole clearly betrays the influence of his predecessor. For Anaximander had in all probability already expressly asserted not only the infinity, but the animate nature and perpetual motion of primitive matter. Anaximenes reiterates these theories, and, by virtue of them, seems to reach his conclusion that air is the primitive matter.

1 Physics 257 b: ὅσοι ἀεὶ μέν φασιν εἶναι κόσμον, οὐ μὴν Toy αὐτὸν ἀεὶ, ἀλλὰ ἄλλοτε ἄλλον γινόμενον κατά τινας χρόνων περιόδους, ὡς Ἀναξιμένης τε καὶ Ἡράκλειτος καὶ Διογένης.
2 Hippolytus loc. cit.; Placita, iii. 4, 1, 5, 10; Stobaeus i. 590; Joh. Damasc. Parall. s. i. 3, 1 (Stobaeus Florilegium Ed. Mein. iv. 151). Theo in Arat. v. 940.
3 Aristotle Meteorologica ii. 7, 365 a, 17 b, 6; Placita iii. 15, 3; Sen. Qu. Nat. vi. 10; cf. Ideler, Aristotle Meteorol. i. 585 sq. Perhaps in this also Anaximenes follows Anaximander, vide supra, p. 256, 3.
4 In the fragment discussed p. 268, 3. and p. 270, from which doubtless the short statement in Stobaeus Eclogae i. 796. and Theodoret, Graecorum affectionum curatio v. 18, is taken.
5 Ritter, 1. 214.

It is true that he returns from the |279| indeterminate conception of infinite substance to a determinate substance, and that he represents things as arising out of this not by separation, but by rarefaction and condensation. But at the same time he is evidently concerned to maintain what Anaxagoras had held about the primitive substance; and thus his principle may be described as the combination of the two previous principles. With Thales, he accepts the qualitative determinateness of primitive matter; with Anaximander he expressly asserts its infinity and animation. For the rest he inclines chiefly to Anaximander. Even if we cannot with justice ascribe to him the doctrine of the destruction of the world, and of innumerable worlds in ‘succession, we can still see his dependence on his predecessor 1 in his ideas concerning the primitive opposition of heat and cold, the form of the earth and stars, on atmospheric phenomena, in what he says of the stars as the created gods, perhaps also in the opinion that the soul is like air in its nature. Yet this dependence is not so great, nor his own original achievement so insignificant that we should be justified in refusing to recognise any kind of philosophic progress in his doctrine. 2 For Anaximander’s notion of infinite matter is too indeterminate to explain particular substances, and the ‘separation’ by which he accounts for all production of the derived from the original, is open to the same charge. The determinate substances, according to him, are not as such contained in the primitive substance:

1 Strümpell, therefore, in placing Anaximenes before Anaximander, is as little in accordance with the internal relation of their doctrines, as with the chronology.
1 Haym. Allg. Enc. Sect. iii. vol. xxiv. 27.

|280| Separation is therefore only another expression for the Becoming of the particular. Anaximenes attempted to gain a more definite idea of the physical process, by which things are evolved from primitive matter; and to that end, he sought the primitive matter itself in a determinate body, qualified to be the substratum of that process. Such an attempt was certainly of great importance; and, considering the state of enquiry at that period, marked real progress. On this account, the latter Ionian physicists especially followed Anaximenes; to such an extent indeed, that Aristotle attributes the doctrine of rarefaction and condensation to all those who take a determinate substance for their principle; 1 and a century after Anaximenes, Diogenes of Apollonia and Archelaus again set up his theory of primitive matter.

1 Vide supra, p. 243, 1.

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iv. Later Adherents of The Ionic School

  After Anaximenes, there is a lacuna in our knowledge of the Ionic school. If we consulted only the chronology, this lacuna would be filled by Heracleitus; but the peculiar nature of his philosophy separates him from the earlier Ionians. Meanwhile the theories of the Milesian physicists must have been propagated during this period, and even have given occasion to farther definitions. This is clear from the subsequent appearance of similar doctrines, about which, however, our |281| information is for the most part very scanty. The philosophers whom we have to mention in this connection are chiefly allied with Anaximenes; they make either the air itself, or a body of the nature of air, their primitive matter. But the doctrine of Thales likewise found adherents; for example, Hippo, 1 a physicist of the time of Pericles, 2 whose country is uncertain, 3 and his personal history unknown. 4

1 Cf. Schleiermacher, Werke, Abtheilung, iii. 405-410; Bergk, Reliquiae Comoediae Atticae 164, 185; Backhuizen Van den Brink, Variae lectiones ex historia philosophiea antique (Leyden, 1842), 36-59.
2 This is clear from the statement of the Scholiast of Aristophanes, Clouds 96, exhumed by Bergk, that Cratinus in the Panoptai ridiculed him (infra, p. 283, 3). His theories also point to a later date. The detailed enquiries concerning the formation and development of the fetus seem to contain some allusions to Empedocles (vide Backhuizen Van den Brink, 48 sq.). He seems also to be thinking of Empedocles when he combats the hypothesis that the soul is blood (this, however, is less certain; for that idea is an ancient popular opinion). These enquiries, at any rate, serve to show the tendency of the later physicists to the observation and explanation of organic life. The more abstract conception of Thales’ principle, which Alexander ascribes to him, is likewise in accordance with this. That he had already been opposed by Alcmaeon (Censorinus De Naturali Institutione c. 5) is a mistake (Schleiermacher, 409).
3 Aristoxemus ap. Cens. De Naturali Institutione c. 5, and Iamblichus, V. Pyth. 267, describe him as a Samian, and this is, of course, the most probable; others, perhaps confusing him with Hippasus, say that he came from Rhegium (Sextus Empiricus Outlines of Pyrrhonism, iii. 30; Adversos Mathematicos ix. 361; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 16), or Metapontum (Censorinus loc. cit.). The same blunder may have occasioned his being placed by Iamblichus (loc. cit.) among the Pythagoreans; though the author of that catalogue scarcely needed this excuse. Perhaps Aristoxenus had remarked that he studied the doctrines of Pythagoras; and Iamblichus, or his authority, therefore made him outa Pythagorean. The statement that he came from Melos (Clement, Cohort. 15 A; Arnobius Adversus Nationes A iv. 29) can be more distinctly traced to a confusion with Diagoras (who, in the above-quoted passages, is coupled with him as an atheist), if not to a mere slip of the pen, in the text of Clement.
4 From the attacks of Cratinus nothing more can be gathered than that he must have resided for some time in Athens; Bergk (p. 180) farther concludes from the verse in Athen. xii. 610 b, that he wrote in verse, but it does not follow that he may not also have written in prose. The conjecture (Backhuizen Van den Brink, p. 55) that Hippo was the author of the writing περὶ ἀρχῶν, falsely ascribed to Thales, and quoted supra, p. 216, 2, and p. 226, 1, is to me very improbable, because of the expressions, ἀρχαὶ and στοιχεῖον, which if contains.

Like Thales, he declared |282| water to be the first principle of all things, 1 or as Alexander, 2 probably with more accuracy, 3 says, moisture (τὸ ὑγρὸν), without any more precise determination. He was led to this chiefly as it seems by considering the moist nature of animal seed; 4 it was at any rate for this reason that he held the soul to be a liquid analogous to the seed from which, in his opinion, it sprang. 5 He probably therefore concluded, like Anaximenes, that that which is the cause of life and motion must be also the primitive matter. He made fire originate from water; and the world from the overcoming of water by fire; 6 on which account his principles are sometimes

1 Aristotle Metaphysics i. 3, 984 a, 3; Simplicius Physics 6 a, 32 a; De Caelo, 268 a, 44; Schol. in Aristotle 513 a, 36; Philop. De An. A, 4; C, 7.
2 Ad Metaphys. p. 21, Bon.
3 Aristotle classes him generally with Thales, without definitely saying that he made water his first principle; this was first said by later writers. But from Aristotle’s procedure elsewhere, we can see that he would have had no scruple in identifying the ὑγρὸν with the more determinate ὕδωρ.
4 Vide the following note. Simplicius, De Caelo, 273 b, 36; Schol. in Aristotle 614 a, 26; and Philoponus, De An. A, 4, say more distinctly that Thales and Hippo held water to be the primitive matter, on account of the moisture of the seed and of nourishment in general. It has been already observed, however (p. 218), that in so doing they merely turned Aristotle’s conjecture (Metaphysics i. 3) into a formal statement.
5 Aristotle De An. i. 2, 405 b: τῶν δὲ φορτικωτέρων καὶ ὕδωρ τινὲς ἀπεφήναντο [τὴν ψυχὴν) καθάπερ Ἵππων. πεισθῆναι δ᾽ ἐοίκασιν ἐκ τῆς γονῆς, ὅτι πάντων ὕγρά. καὶ γὰρ ἐλέγχει τοὺς αἷμα φάσκοντας τὴν ψυχὴν, ὅτι ἣ γονὴ οὐχ αἷμα (he sought to prove, according to Cens. loc. cit., by study of animals, that the seed comes from the marrow) ταύτην δ᾽ εἶναι τὴν πρώτην ψυχήν. Herm. Irris. c. 1. (cf. Justin, Cohort. c. 7): Hippo considers the soul to be a ὕδωρ γονοποιόν. Hippolytus loc. cit.: τὴν δὲ ψυχὴν ποτὲ μὲν ἐγκέφαλον ἔχειν (read λέγει, or with Duncker: ἔφη εἶναι) ποτὲ δὲ ὕδωρ, καὶ γὰρ τὸ σπέρμα εἶναι τὸ φαινόμενον ἡμῖν ἐξ ὑγροῦ, ἐξ οὗ φησι ψυχὴν γίνεσθαι. ὅτοῦ. 1. 98; Tertull. De An. c. 5; Philop. De An. A, 4 C, 7.
6 Hippolytus loc. cit.: Ἵππων δὲ ὁ Ῥηγῖνος ἀρχὰς ἔφη ψυχρὸν τὸ ὕδωρ καὶ θερμὸν τὸ πῦρ. γεννώμενον δὲ τὸ πῦρ ὑπὸ ὕδατος κατανικῆσαι τὴν τοῦ γεννήσαντος δύναμιν, συστῆσαί τε τὸν κόσμον.

|283| asserted to be fire and water. 1 What his more exact opinions were as to the constitution of the universe—whether the erroneous statement that he held the earth to have been the first, 2 had any real foundation in fact—whether in harmony with Anaximander and Anaximenes, he may perhaps have taught that out of fluid, under the influence of fire, the earth was first formed, and out of the earth, the stars—we have no means of determining. 3 As little do we know on what ground Hippo was charged with atheism, 4 as he has been in several quarters. The unfavourable judgment of Aristotle as to his philosophic capacity, 5 however, greatly reconciles us to the meagreness of the traditions respecting his doctrine. He was no doubt less of a philosopher than an empirical naturalist, but even as such, from what we hear of him, 6 he does not seem to have attained any great importance.

1 Vide previous note and Sexus. loc. cit.; Ps-Galen, Historia philosopha c. 5, p. 243.
2 Johannes Diac. Alleg. in Hesiod Theogony v. 116, p. 456.
3 This holds good of the statement alluded to (p. 281, 2) that Cratinus made the same charge against Hippo that Aristophanes did against Socrates, viz. that he taught that the heavens were a πνιγεὺς (an oven or hollow cover warmed by coals), and that men were the coals in it. He may have supposed the sky to be a dome resting upon the earth; but how this could be brought into connection with his other notions, we do not know.
4 Plutarch De communibus notitiis adversus Stoicos c. 31, 4; Alexander, loc. cit. and other commentators; Simplicius Physics 6 a; De Anima 8 a; Philoponus De Anima A, 4; Clement Cohort. 15 A, 36 C; Arnobius iv. 29; Athen. xiii. 610 b: Aelian, Varia Historia ii. 31; Eustach. in. Iliad Φ 79; Odyssyus Γ 381. What Alexander and Clement say about his epitaph as the occasion of this imputation explains nothing. Pseudo-Alex. in Metaphysics vii. 2; xii. 1, p. 428, 21, 643, 24, Bon., asserts that his materialism was the cause; but this is evidently a conjecture.
5 In the passages cited p. 282, 1, 5.
6 Besides what has been already quoted we should here mention his theories on birth and the formation of the foetus, Censorinus De Die Natali c. 5-7, 9; Ps-Plutarch Placita v. 5, 3, 7, 3, into which I cannot now enter more particularly, and a remark about the difference between wild and cultivated plants in Theophrastus Hist. Plant. i 3, 5; iii. 2, 2. Athen. xiii. 610 b, contains a verse of his against πουλυμαθημοσύνη, which resembles the famous saying of Heracleitus; he quotes the same verse, however, as coming from Timon, who might have borrowed it from Hippo.

  |284| As Hippo was influenced by Thales, so Idaeus of Himera appears to have been influenced by Anaximenes. 1 Anaximenes most likely also originated the two theories mentioned in some passages by Aristotle; 2 according to the one, primitive matter in respect of density stands midway between water and. air; according to the other, between air and fire. That both theories belong to a younger generation of Ionian physicists is probable, for they occupy an intermediate position between older philosophers; the one between Thales and Anaximenes, the other between Anaximenes and Heracleitus. We must, however, primarily refer them to Anaximenes, since he was the first who raised the question of the relative density of the different kinds of matter, and who explained the formation of particular substances by the processes of condensation and rarefaction. In this way he arrived at the opposition of rarefied and condensed air, or warm air and cold air; if warm air were adopted as the primitive element, the result was an intermediary between air and fire; if cold air, an intermediary between air and water. 3

1 Sextus Empiricus Adversos Mathematicos ix. 360: Ἀναξιμένης δὲ καὶ Ἰδαῖος ὁ Ίμεραῖος καὶ Διογένης…ἀέρα [ἀρχὴν ἔλεξαν] Besides this we know nothing of Idaeus.
2 Vide p. 241,1, 2. These passages do not relate to Diogenes, as will presently be shown.
3 In connection with Anaximenes we should mention Melesagoras; according to Brandis, 1. 148, Clement (Stromata vi. 629, A) names him as the author of a book transcribed from Anaximenes; and as holding similar doctrines to those of Anaximenes. Clement also says: τὰ δὲ Ἡσιόδον μετήλλαξαν εἰς πεζὸν λόγον καὶ ὡς ἴδια ἐξήνεγκαν Εὔμηλός τε καὶ Ἀκουσίλαος οἱ ἱστοριογράφοι. Μελησαγόρου γὰρ ἔκλεψεν Γοργίας ὁ Λεοντῖνος καὶ Εὔδημος ὁ Νάξιος of ἱστορικοὶ, καὶ ἐπὶ τούτοις ὁ Προκοννήσιος Βίων…Ἀμφίλοχός τε καὶ Ἀριστοκλῆς καὶ Λεάνδριος καὶ Ἀναξιμένης, καὶ Ἑλλάνικος, and so on. But this Melesagoras, who was made use of by various historians, can scarcely have been any other than the well-known Logographer, who was also called Amelesagoras (see Müller, Hist. of Gr. ii. 21), and the Anaximenes, whom Clement names among a number of historians, is certainly not our philosopher, but likewise a historian, probably Anaximenes of Lampsacus, mentioned by Diogenes, the nephew of the orator. It is a question, moreover, whether we ought not to read Εὐμήλου instead of Μελησαγόρου, or Μελησαγόρας instead of Εὔμηλος: and whether the words Ἀμφίλοχός, etc., are to be connected with ἔκλεψεν, and not with τὰ Ἡησιόδου μετήλλαξαν, etc.

  |285| Diogenes of Apollonia 1 is a philosopher with whom we are better acquainted; and his doctrine shows in a striking manner that the Ionic school maintained its early presuppositions, even when other and more |286| developed ideas had been introduced into it.

1 The statements of the ancients respecting him, and the fragments of his work, have been carefully collected and annotated by Schleiermacher (Ueber Diogenes v. Apollonia, third section of his collected works, ii. 149 sqq.) and by Panzerbieter (Diogenes Apolloniates, 1830). Cf. also Steinhart, Allg. Encycl. of Ersch and Gruber, Sect. I. vol. xxv. 296 sqq.; Mullach, Fragm. Philos. Gr. i. 252 sqq. Of his life we know very little. He was a native of Apollonia (Diogenes L. ix. 57, etc.), by which Stephen of Byzantium (De Urb. s.v. p. 106, Mein.) understands Apollonia in Crete, but as he wrote in the Ionic dialect, it is doubtful if this can be the city. His date will hereafter be discussed. According to Demetrius Phalerius ap. Diogenes L. loc. cit., he was in danger through unpopularity at Athens, by which is probably meant that. he was threatened with similar charges to those brought forward against Anaxagoras. But there may be some confusion here with Diagoras. The assertion of Antisthenes, the historian (ap. Diogenes L. loc. cit.), repeated by Augustine, Civitas Dei, viii. 2, that he attended the instructions of Anaximenes is merely based on conjecture, and is as worthless in point of evidence as the statement of Diogenes (ii. 6) that Anaxagoras was a hearer of Anaximenes; whereas, in all probability, he was dead before Anaximenes was born, cf. Krische, Forschungen 167 sq. Diogenes’s work, περὶ φύσεως, was used by Simplicius, but (as Krische observes, p. 166) he does not seem to have been acquainted with the second book of it, which Galen quotes in Hippocrates vi. Epidem. vol. xvii. 1 a, 1006 K. That Diogenes composed two other works is doubtless an error of this writer, founded on a misapprehension of some of his utterances (Physics 32 b), vide Schleiermacher, p. 108 sq.; Panzerbieter, p. 21 sqq.

|286 cont.| On one side he is closely connected with Anaximenes, on another he in all probability transcends him: not only is his exposition more methodical in form and more careful as to details, but he is also distinguished from his predecessor in having ascribed to the air, as primitive cause and primitive matter, certain spiritual qualities, and having tried to explain the life of the soul by the air so apprehended. To gain a fixed basis for his enquiry, 1 he determined the general characteristics which must belong to the primitive essence. On the one hand he said it must be the common matter of all things, and on the other, an essence capable of thought. His argument for the first assertion was the following. We know that things change one into another, that substances mix, and that things influence and affect each other. None of these phenomena would be possible if the various bodies were distinct as to their essence. They must therefore be one and the same, must have sprung from the same substance, and must be resolved into the same again.
2

1 According to Diogenes, vi. 81; ix. 57, his work began with the words: λόγου παντὺς ἀρχύμενον δοκέει μοι χρεὼν εἶναι τὴν ἀρχὴν ἀναμφισβήτητον παρέχεσθαι, τὴν δὲ ἑρμηνηΐην ἁπλῆν καὶ σεμνήν.
2 Frag. 2 ap. Simplicius Physics 32 b: ἐμοὶ δὲ δοκέει, τὸ μὲν ξύμπαν εἰπεῖν, πάντα τὸ ἐόντα ἀπὸ τοῦ αὐτοῦ ἑτεροιοῦσθαι καὶ τὸ αὐτὸ εἶναι. καὶ τοῦτο εὔδηλον. εἰ γὰρ ἐν τῷδε τῷ κόσμῳ ἐόντα νῦν γῆ καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ τἄλλα, ὅσα φαίνεται ἐν τῷδε τῷ κόσμῳ ἐόντα, εἰ τουτέων τι ἦν τὸ ἕτερον τοῦ ἑτέρου ἕτερον ἐὸν τῇ ἰδίῃ φύσει καὶ οὐ τὸ αὐτὸ ἐὸν μετέπιπτε. πολλαχῶς καὶ ἡτεροιοῦτο. οὐδαμῆ οὔτε μίσγεσθαι ἀλλήλοις ἠδύνατο, οὔτε ὠφέλησις τῷ ἑτέρῳ οὔτε βλάβη…οὐδ᾽ ἂν οὔτε φυτὸν ἐκ τῆς γῆς φῦναι, οὔτε ζῷον οὔτε ἄλλο γενέσθαι οὐδὲν, εἰ μὴ οὕτω συνίστατο, ὥστε τωὐτὸ εἶναι. ἀλλὰ πάντα ταῦτα ἐκ τοῦ αὐτοῦ ἑτεροιούμενα ἄλλοτε ἀλλοῖα γίγνεται καὶ ἐς τὸ αὐτὸ ἀναχωρέει. Frag. 6, ap. Simplicius 33 a: οὐδὲν δ᾽ οἷόν τε γενέσθαι τῶν ἕτεροιουμένων ἕτερον ἑτέρου πρὶν ἂν τὸ αὐτὸ γένηται, and Aristotle De Generatione et Corruptione i. 6, 322, b, 12. What Diogenes ix. 57, says he taught—viz. that nothing comes from nothing or to nothing—is here indeed presupposed, but whether he expressly enunciated this principle we do not know.

In proof of the second assertion, |287| Diogenes appealed in a general manner to the wise and felicitous distribution of matter in the world; 1 and more particularly, to this testimony of our experience—that life and thought are produced in all living natures by the air which they breathe, and are bound up with this substance. 2 He therefore concluded that the substance of which all things consist must be a body eternal, unchangeable, great and powerful, and rich in knowledge. 3 All these qualities he thought he discovered in the air; for the air penetrates all things, and in men and animals produces life and consciousness; the seed of animals, also, is of a nature like air. 4 He, therefore, with Anaximenes, declared air to be the matter and ground of all things 5 almost unanimously 6 by ancient writers; This is attested and Diogenes himself says 7 that air is the essence in which reason

1 Frag. 4, Simplicius loc. cit.; οὐ γὰρ ἂν οὕτω δεδάσθαι [sc. τὴν ἀρχὴν] οἷόν τε ἦν ἄνευ νοήσιος, ὥστε πάντων μέτρα ἔχειν, χειμῶνός τε καὶ θέρεος καὶ νυκτὸς καὶ ἡμέρης καὶ ὑετῶν καὶ ἀνέμων καὶ εὐδιῶν καὶ τὰ ἄλλα εἴ τις βούλεται ἐννοέεσθαι, εὑρίσκοι ἂν οὕτω διακείμενα ὡς ἀνυστὺν κάλλιστα.
2 Frag. 5, ibid: ἔτι δὲ πρὸς τούτοις καὶ τάδε μεγάλα σημεῖα: ἄνθρωπος γὰρ καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ζῷα ἀναπνέοντα ζώει τῷ ἀέρι, καὶ τοῦτο αὐτοῖς καὶ ψυχή ἐστι καὶ νόησις…καὶ ἐὰν ἀπαλλαχθῇ ἀποθνήσκει καὶ ἣ νόησις ἐπιλείπει.
3 Frag. 3 from Simpl, Physics 33 a.
4 Vide notes 1, 2, and 7.
5 Or as Theophrastus De Sensu 8, 42. Cicero, De Natura Deorum i. 12, 29, says the Deity; cf. Aristotle Physics iii. 4 (supra, p. 248, 1). Sidon. Apoll. xv. 91, discriminates the air of Diogenes as the matter endowed with creative energy, from God, but this is of course unimportant.
6 The passages in question are given in extenso by Panzerbieter, p. 53 sqq. In this place it is sufficient to refer to Aristotle Metaphysics i. 3, 984 a, 5; De An. 405 a, 21; Theophrastus ap. Simplicius Physics 6 a.
7 Frag. 6, ap. Simplicius 33 a: καὶ μοι δοκέει τὸ τὴν νόησιν ἔχον εἶναι ὁ ἀὴρ καλεόμενος ὑπὸ τῶν ἀνθρώπων, καὶ ὑπὸ τούτου πάντα καὶ κυβερνᾶσθαι καὶ πάντων κρατέειν. ἀπὸ γὰρ μοι τούτου δυκέει ἔθος εἶναι (instead of ἀπὸ Panzerbieter here reads αὐτοῦ; this I prefer to Mullach’s amendment, which retains ἀπὸ, but substitutes νόος for ἐθος) καὶ ἐπὶ πᾶν ἀφῖχθαι καὶ πάντα διατιθέναι καὶ ἐν παντὶ ἐνεῖναι καὶ ἐστὶ μηδέ ἕν ὅ τι μὴ μετέχειτούτου…καὶ πάντων τῶν ζῴων δὲ ἡ ψυχὴ τὸ αὐτό ἐστιν, ἀὴρ θερμότερος μὲν τοῦ ἔξω ἐν ᾧ ἐσμὲν, τοῦ μέντοι παρὰ τῷ ἤελίῳ πολλὸν ψυχρότερος. This soul is besides very different in different beings: ὅμως δὲ τὰ πάντα τῷ αὐτῷ καὶ ζῇ καὶ δρᾷ καὶ ἀκούει καὶ τὴν ἄλλην νόησιν ἔχει ὑπὸ τοῦ αὐτοῦ πάντα καὶ ἐφεξῆς δείκνυσιν, adds Simplicius: ὅτι καὶ τὸ σπέρμα τῶν ζῴων πνευματῶδές ἐστι καὶ νοήσεις γίνονται τοῦ ἀέρος σὺν τῷ αἵματι τὸ ὅλον σῶμα καταλαμβάνοντος διὰ τῶν φλεβῶν.

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|288| dwells, and which guides and governs all things, because its nature is to spread itself everywhere, to order all and to be in all. Nicolaus of Damascus, Porphyry 1 and in one passage, 2 likewise Simplicius, attribute to Diogenes as his first principle the substance intermediate between air and fire, 3 so often mentioned by Aristotle. This is unquestionably an error, into which they were probably misled by Diogenes’ opinion, that the soul, by analogy with which he defines his primitive essence, 4 was of the nature of warm air. Nor can I agree with Ritter’s similar theory, 5 that the primitive essence of Diogenes was not the ordinary atmospheric air, but a more subtile kind, ignited by heat; for not only do all the accounts, and Diogenes’ own explanations, speak of the air as ‘that which is usually called air’; but according to his own principles it would have been impossible for him, while deriving all things from air by rarefaction and condensation, to seek the original principle (that which constituted the basis of all the different forms and changes of the atmosphere), not in the

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1 According to Simplicius Physics 33 b; 6 b.
2 Physics 44 a.
3 Vide supra, b. 241, 2.
4 Cf. the passage cited, p. 287, 2, 7, and the general canon of Aristotle, De An. i. 2, 405 a, 3, to which Panzerbieter (p. 59) refers in support of his hypothesis. Vide also p. 268, 2.
5 Geschichte der Philosophie i, 228 sqq.

|289| common aerial element, but in some particular kind of air. 1 Schleiermacher’s conjecture also 2 is improbable, that Diogenes himself held air to be the primitive matter, but that Aristotle was doubtful as to his meaning, and so ascribed to him sometimes the air in general, sometimes warm or cold air. Such hesitation on the part of Aristotle respecting the principles of his predecessors is without precedent; from his whole spirit and method it is far more likely that he may have sometimes reduced the indefinite notions of earlier philosophers to definite concepts, than that he should have expressed himself in a vacillating and uncertain manner in regard to their definite theories. Aristotle repeatedly and decidedly declares that the principle of Diogenes was air; he then speaks of some philosophers, without naming them, whose principle was intermediate between air and water. Now it is impossible that these statements can relate to the same persons; we cannot doubt, therefore, that it is air in the common acceptation of the word, which our philosopher maintains to be the essence of all things.

1 Though he may have generally described the air in comparison with other bodies as the λεπτομερέστατον or λεπτότατον (Aristotle De An. loc. cit.), it does not follow that he held the rarest or warmest air alone to be the primitive matter; on the contrary, he says in Frag. 6 (vide infra, p. 291, 2), after having declared the air generally to be the first principle, that there are different kinds of air—warmer, colder, and so forth. Further particulars on this point will be given later on.
2 In his treatise on Anaximander, Werke, 3te Abth. iii. 184. Cf. on the contrary, Panzerbieter, 56 sqq.

  We find from the above quotations that Diogenes, in his more precise description of the air, ascribed to it two properties which correspond to the requirements |290| claimed by him in general for the primal matter. As the substance of all things, it must be eternal and imperishable, it must be contained in all things, and permeate all things; as the cause of life and order in the world, it must be a thinking and reasonable essence. In the air these two aspects are united; for, according to Diogenes’ view, because the air permeates all things, it is that which guides and orders them; because it is the basal matter of all, all is known to it; because it is the rarest and subtlest matter, it is the most movable, and the cause of all motion. 1 We are expressly told 2 that he spoke of the air as the Infinite, and the statement is the more credible, since Anaximenes, whom Diogenes in other respects follows most closely, employed a similar definition. Moreover Diogenes describes the air in the same way that Anaximander describes his ἄπειρον: and Aristotle says that the infinity of primitive matter was held by most of the physiologists. 3 But this definition seems to have been regarded by him as of minor importance compared with the life and force of the primitive essence; that is his main point, and in it he discovers the chief proof of its air-like nature.

1 Vide p. 287, 7, and Aristotle De An. i. 2, 405 a, 21: Διογένης δ᾽, ὥσπερ ἕτεροί τινες, ἄέρα (scil. ὑπέλαβε τὴν ψυχὴν). τοῦτον οἰηθεὶς πάντων λεπτομερέστατον εἶναι καὶ ἀρχήν" καὶ διὰ τοῦτο γινώσκειν τε καὶ κινεῖν τὴν ψυχὴν, ἧ μὲν πρῶτόν ἐστι καὶ ἐκ τούτου τὰ λοιπὰ, γινώσκειν, ἣ δὲ λεπτότατον, κινητικὸν εἶναι.
2 Simplicius Physics 6 a. Probably after Theophrastus: τὴν δὲ τοῦ παντὸς φύσιν ἀέρα καὶ οὗτός φησιν ἄπειρον εἶναι καὶ ἀΐδιον.
3 Vide p. 269, 1.

  On account of this vitality and constant motion, the air assumes the most various forms. Its motion consists, according to Diogenes (who here again follows |291| Anaximenes), in qualitative changes, in rarefaction and condensation; 1 or, which is the same thing, in heating and cooling; and so there arise in the air endless modifications in respect of heat and cold, dryness and dampness, greater or less mobility, 2 etc., corresponding to the different stages of its rarefaction or condensation. For the rest, Diogenes does not seem to have enumerated these differences systematically, after the manner of the Pythagorean categories, though he must have derived the different qualities of things, some from rarefaction, some from condensation, and must so far have coordinated them on the side of heat or cold. 3 Nor do we find any trace of the four elements; we do not know whether he assumed definite connecting media between particular substances and the primitiv

1 Plutarch ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i. 8, 18: κοσμοποιεῖ δὲ vUTwS* ὅτι τοῦ παντὸς κινουμένου Kal ἣ μὲν ἀραιοῦ ἢ δὲ πυκνοῦ γενομένου ὅπου συνεκύρησε τὸ πυκνὸν συστροφὴν ποιῆσαι, καὶ οὕτω τὰ λοιπὰ κατὰ τὺν αὐτὸν λόγον τὰ κουφότατα τὴν ἄνω τάξιν λαβόντα τὸν ἥλιον ἀποτελέσαι. Simplicius loc. cit. after the words just quoted: ἐξ οὗ πυκνουμένου καὶ μανουμένου καὶ μεταβάλλοντος τοῖς πάθεσι τὴν τῶν ἄλλων γίνεσθαι μορφήν, καὶ ταῦτα μὲν Θεόφραστος ἱστορεῖ περὶ τοῦ Διογένους. Diogenes L. ix. 57, cf. what is cited from Aristotle, p. 243, 1, and Aristotle De Generatione et Corruptione ii. 9, 336 a, 3 sqq.
2 Frag. 6, supra, p. 287, 7 (after the words ὁ τι μὴ μετέχει τοὐτου): μετέχει δὲ οὐδὲ ἓν ὁμοίως τὸ ἕτερον τῷ ἑτέρῳ, ἀλλὰ πολλοὶ τρύποι καὶ αὐτοῦ τοῦ ἀέρος καὶ τῆς νοήσιος εἰσίν. ἔστι γὰρ πολύτροπος, καὶ θερμότερος καὶ ψυχρότερος καὶ ζηρότερος καὶ ὑγρότερος καὶ στασιμώτερος καὶ ὀξυτέρην κίνησιν ἔχων, καὶ ἄλλαι πολλαὶ ἑτεροιώσιες ἔνεισι καὶ ἡδονῆς καὶ χροιῆς ἄπειροι. Panzerbieter explains ἡδονὴ (p. 63 sq.) by taste, as the word also stands in Anaxagoras Frag. 3; Xenophon, Anab. ii. 3, 16. Still better would be the analogous meaning ‘smell,’ which the word has in a fragment of Heracleitus. ap. Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, ix. 10; and in Theophrastus, De Sensu, 16, 90. Schleiermacher, loc. cit. 154, translates it feeling (Gefühl); similarly Schaubach (Anaxagor. Fragm. p. 86) Affectio; Ritter, Gesch. der Ion. Phil. 50, behaviour (Verhalten); Geschichte der Philosophie i. 228, inner disposition (innerer Muth); Brandis, i. 281, internal constitution (innere Beschaffenheit); Philippson, Ὕλη ἀνθρωπίνη, p. 205, bona conditio interna.
3 As Panzerbieter sets forth in detail, p. 102 sqq.

|292| substance, or identified the endless multiplicity of particularsubstances with the innumerable stages of rarefaction and condensation, so that the air would become at one stage of condensation water, at another flesh, at a third stone. The most probable supposition, however, and the one which seems to result from the above statements of his about the different kinds of air, and also from his opinion on the development of the foetus (vide infra)—is that he employed neither of the two modes of explication exclusively, and, generally speaking, in the derivation of phenomena, followed no fixed and uniform method.
  The first result of condensation and rarefaction was to separate from the infinite primitive substance, the heavy matter which moved downwards, and the light matter which moved upwards. From the former the earth was produced; from the latter, the sun, and no doubt the stars also. 1 This motion upwards and downwards Diogenes was forced to derive in the first place from heaviness and lightness, and secondly, from the inherent animation of matter as such. For the moving intelligence with him absolutely coincides with matter; the different kinds of air are also different kinds of thought (Frag. 6); that thought was added to material substances, and set them in motion, 2 is a view which would have been impossible to him. But after the first division of substances has been accomplished, al] motion proceeds from the warm and the light. 3 Diogenes explained the soul of animals to be warm air; and so in

1 Plutarch, vide supra, p. 291, 2.
2 As Panzerbieter represents, 111 sq.
3 Frag. 6, supra, p. 287, 7.

|295| the system of the world he regarded warm matter as the principle of motion, the efficient cause; and cold dense matter, 1 as the principle of corporeal consistency. In consequence of heat, 12 the universe he thought had acquired a circular motion from which also the earth took its round shape. 3 By this circular motion, however, he seems to have intended merely a lateral motion; and by the roundness of the earth a cylindrical, and not a spherical shape; for he assumed with Anaxagoras that the inclination of the earth’s axis towards its surface arose subsequently from some unknown cause (ἐκ τοῦ αὐτομάτου), and that the axis at first ran perpendicularly down through the earth. 4

1 From the union of these by means of νόησις arose (according to Steinhart, p. 299) sensible air. I know not, however, on what evidence this assumption is based; it seems to me inadmissible for the reasons I brought forward against Ritter on p. 288. Nor doI see any proof of the accuracy of the further observation that ‘the sensible air is supposed to consist of an infinite number of simple bodies;’ for Diogenes is never mentioned by Aristotle in the passage, De De Partibus Animalium ii. 1, to which note 33 refers.
2 Whether primitive heat or the sun’s heat, is not stated, but from Alex. Meteorolog. 93 b, the sun’s heat seems to be intended.
3 Diogenes L. ix. 57: τὴν δὲ γῆν στρογγύλην, ἐρηρεισμένην ἐν τῷ μέσῳ, τὴν σύστασιν εἰληφυῖαν κατὰ τὴν ἐκ τοῦ θερμοῦ περιφορὰν καὶ πῆξιν ὑπὸ τοῦ ψυχροῦ, on which cf. Panzerbieter, p. 117 sq.
4 According to the Placita ii. 8, 1 (Stobaeus, i. 358; Ps-Galen , c. 11, to the same effect) Diogenes and Anaxagoras maintained: μετὰ τὸ σνστῆναι Toy κόσμον καὶ τὰ ζῷα ἐκ τῆς γῆς ἐξαγαγεῖν ἐγκλιθῆναί πως τὸν κόσμον ἐκ τοῦ αὐτομάτου εἰς τὸ μεσημβρινὸν αὐτοῦ μέρος (ἴσως, adds the author doubtless in his own name, ὑπὸ προνοίας, in order to show the difference between the habitable and uninhabitable zones). Anaxagoras, however, said, according to Diogenes L. ii. 9: τὰ δʹ ἄστρα κατ’ ἀρχὰς μὲν θολοειδῶς ἐνεχθῆναι ὥστε κατὰ κορυφὴν τῆς γῆς (perpendicularly over the upper surface of the earth, which, like Anaximenes and others, he supposed to be shaped like a cylinder, cf. vol. ii. Anax.) τὸν ἀεὶ φαινόμενον εἶναι πόλυν, ὕστερον δὲ τὴν ἔγκλισιν λαβεῖν; so that, according to this, the stars in their daily revolution would at first have only turned from east to west laterally around the earth’ disc, and those above our horizon would never have gone below it. The obliquity of the earth’s axis to its surface was produced later, and caused the paths of the sun and |294| stars to cut the plane of the horizon; hence arose the alternation of day and night. What we are to think in regard to the details of this system is (as Panzerbieter, p. 129 sqq. shows) hard to say. If the whole universe, that is, the heavens and the earth, inclined to the south, nothing would have changed in the position of the earth in relation to the heavens, and the temporary disappearance of most of the stars below the horizon, and the alternation of day and night, would be inexplicable. If the heavens (or which is the same thing, the upper end of the earth’s axis) had inclined to the south, the sun in its revolution around this axis would have come nearer and nearer the horizon the further south it went. It would have risen in the west and set in the east; we should have had midnight when it was in the south; midday when it was in the north. If, on the other hand, the earth had inclined to the south and the axis of the heavens had remained unaltered, if would seem that the sea and all the waters must have overflowed the southern part of the earth’s surface. Panzerbieter, therefore, conjectures that Anaxagoras made the heavens incline not to the south, but to the north, and that in the passage in the Placita we should perhaps read προσβόρειον or μεσοβόρειον, instead of μεσημβρινόν. But considering that our three texts are agreed upon the word, this is scarcely credible. We shall, however, find (infra, vol. ii.) that Leucippus and Democritus believed in a depression of the southern part of the earth’s disc. If these philosophers could discover an expedient unknown to us but satisfactory to them, by which they could escape the obvious difficulties of this hypothesis, Diogenes and Anaxagoras could also have discovered one; and on the other hand, their theory of the inclination of the earth gives us a clue to the opinions of Leucippus and Democritus on the same subject.

He was the |294| more disposed to adopt Anaxagoras’s notion as to the shape of the earth, and the original motion of the heavens, since Anaximenes had led him to the same result. Like Anaximander, he conceived of the earth in its primeval state as a soft and fluid mass gradually dried by the sun’s heat. This is also proved by its having received its form in course of the rotation. What remained of the primitive liquid became the seas, the salt taste of which he derived from the evaporation of the sweet portions: the vapours developed from the drying up of the moisture served to enlarge the heavens. 1

1 Aristotle Meteorologica ii. 2, 355 a, 21; Alex. Meteorol. 91 a; 93 b, probably following Theophrastus; cf. supra, p. 254, 1.

The earth is full of passages through which |295| the air penetrates: if the outlets of these are blocked up, there are earthquakes. 1 In the same way Diogenes held the sun and stars 2 to be porous bodies, of a formation like pumice stone, the hollows of which are filled with fire or fiery air. 3 The theory of the origin of the stars from moist exhalations, 4 in connection with that just quoted from Alexander on the growth of the heavens by the evaporations of the earth, would lead us to conjecture that Diogenes supposed the sun alone to have been at first formed from the warm air drawn upwards, and the stars to have afterwards arisen from the vapours evolved by the sun’s heat, by which vapours the sun himself was thought to have been continually sustained. As this nourishment is at times exhausted in each part of the world, the sun (so at least Alexander represents the doctrine of Diogenes) changes his place, as a beast his pasture. 5

1 Seneca, Naturales Quaestiones vi. 15; cf. iv. 2, 28.
2 Among which he likewise reckoned comets, Placita ii. 2, 9; unless Diogenes, the Stoic, is here meant.
3 Stobaeus Eclogae i. 528, 552, 508; Ps-Plutarch Placita ii. 13, 4; Theodoret Graecorum affectionum curatio iv. 17, p. 59. According to the last three passages, meteoric stones are similar bodies; but it would seem that they only take fire in falling; vide Panzerbieter, 122 sq.
4 So, at least, Stobaeus 522 says of the moon, when he asserts that Diogenes held it to be a κισσηροειδὲς ἄναμμα. Panzerbieter, p. 121 sq. interprets in the same way the statement in Stobaeus 508 (Ps-Plutarch loc. cit.) that the stars, according to Diogenes, are διάπνοιαι (exhalations) τοῦ κόσμου; and he is probably more correct than Ritter (i. 232) who, by διάπνοιαι, understands organs of respiration. Theodoret, loc. cit., ascribes the διαπνοὰς to the stars themselves; it would be easier to connect them with the fiery vapours streaming from the stars.
5 Cf. p. 254, 1. Some other theories of Diogenes on thunder and lightning (Stobaeus i. 594; Sen. Qu. Nat. ii. 20), on the winds, Alex. loc. cit. (cf. Aristotle Meteorologica ii. 1, beginning), on the causes of the inundation of the Nile (Seneca Qu. Nat. iv. 2, 27; Scholium in Apollon. Rhod. iv. 269) are discussed by Panzerbieter, p. 133 sqq.

   |296| Diogenes shared with Anaxagoras and other physicists the belief that living creatures 1 and likewise plants 2 were produced out of the earth, no doubt by the influence of the sun’s heat. In an analogous manner he explained the process of generation, by the influence of the vivifying heat of the body of the mother on the seed. 3 In accordance with his general standpoint, he thought the soul to be a warm, dry air. As the air is capable of endless diversity, souls likewise are as various as the kinds and individual natures to which they belong. 4 This substance of the soul he appears to have derived partly from the seed, 5 and partly from the outer air entering the lungs after birth; 6 and its warmth, according to the above theory, from the warmth of the mother. The diffusion of life throughout the whole body he explained by the theory that the soul or warm vital air streams along with the blood through the veins. 7

1 Placita, ii. 8, 1; Stobaeus i. 358.
2 Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. iii. 1, 4.
3 For further details, cf. Panzerbieter, 124 sqq., after Censorinus De Die Natali c. 5; 9; Ps-Plutarch Placita v: 15, 4 etc.
4 Frag. 6, after the words quoted, p. 291, 1: καὶ πάντων ζῴων δὲ ἣ ψυχὴ Τὸ αὐτό ἐστιν, ἀὴρ θερμότερος μὲν τοῦ ἔξω, ἐν ᾧ ἐσμὲν, τοῦ μέντοι παρὰ τῷ ἠελίῳ πολλὸν ψυχρύτερος. ὅμοιον δὲ τοῦτο τὸ θερμὸν οὐδενὸς τῶν ζῴων ἐστὶν, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἀλλήλοις. ἀλλὰ διαφέρει μέγα μὲν οὐ, ἀλλ᾽ ὥστε παραπλήσια εἶναι, οὐ μέντοι ἀτρεκέως γε ὅμοιον ἐόν…ἅτε οὖν πολυτρόπου ἐνεούσης τῆς ἕτεροιώσιος πολύτροπα καὶ τὰ ζῷα καὶ πολλὰ καὶ οὔτε ἰδέην ἀλλήλοις ἐοικότα οὔτε δίαιταν οὔτε νόησιν ὑπὸ τοῦ πλήθεος τῶν ἑτεροιώσεων᾽ ὅμως δὲ, etc. (supra, p. 287, 7); cf. Theophrastus, De Sensu, 39, 44.
5 For he expressly remarks that the seed is like air (πνευματῶδες) and foam, and derives thence the designation, ἀφροδίσια. Vide supra, p. 287, 7; Clement, Pedag. i. 105 C.
6 Placita v. 15, 4.
7 Simplicius loc. cit.; cf. Theophrastus, De Sensu, 39 sqq. From these passages it is clear that Diogenes limited the habitation of the soul to no particular organ; the statement, therefore, in the Placita, iv. 5, 7, that he transferred the ἥγεμονικὸν to the ἀρτηριακὴ κοιλία τῆς καρδίας, can only be accepted in the sense that this is the chief seat of the vivifying air. Cf. Panzerbieter, 87 sq.

In |297| support of this doctrine he entered into a detailed, and according to the then state of anatomical knowledge, an accurate description of the venal system. 1 Sensations he supposed to arise from the contact of the vital air with external impressions, 2 and sleep and death from the partial or entire expulsion of the air by the blood. 3 The seat of sensation he sought in the air contained in the brain; 4 appealing in proof of this to the phenomenon, that we are not conscious of external impressions when we are occupied with something else. 5 Desire and disinclination, courage, health, and so forth, were the effect, he thought, of the various proportions in which air mingles with the blood. 6The intellectual inferiority of sleeping and intoxicated persons, of children, and of animals, he attributed to the greater density and moisture, and the less perfect circulation of the vital air. 7 The vital air itself, however, he was of course On this ground he tried to prove, for example, that fishes and obliged to presuppose in all living creatures. oysters have also the power of breathing. 8

1 Given by Aristotle, D. Anim. iii. 2,511 b, 30 sqq., commented on by Panzerbieter, p. 72 sqq.
2 The somewhat ambiguous statements, Placita iv. 18, 2; 16, 3; confused by the introduction of the Stoic ἡγεμονικὸν, are discussed by Panzerbieter, 86, 90; further details are given by Theophrastus, loc. cit.; cf. Philippson, Ὕλν ἀνθρωπίνη, 101 sqq.
3 Placita v. 23, 3.
4 Smell, says Theophrastus, loc. cit., he attributed τῷ περὶ τὸν ἐγκέφαλον ἀέρι; τοῦτον γὰρ ἄθρουν εἶναι καὶ σύμμετρον τῇ ἀναπνοῇ. Hearing arises: ὅταν ὁ ἐν τοῖς ὠσὶν ἀὴρ κινηθεὶς ὑπὸ τοῦ ἔξω διαδῷ πρὸς τὸν ἐγκέφαλον; sight, when the image that enters the eye combines with the air within (μίγνυσθαι).
5 Loc. cit. 42: ὅτι δὲ ὁ ἐντὸς ἀὴρ αἰσθάνεται μικρὸν ὧν μύριον τοῦ θεοῦ, σημεῖον εἶναι, ὅτι πολλάκις πρὸς ἄλλα τὸν νοῦν ἔχοντες οὔθ᾽ ὁρῶμεν οὔτ᾽ ἀκούομεν.
6 Theophrastus, loc. cit. 48.
7 Vide supra, p. 296, 2; Theophrastus, loc. cit. 44 sqq.; Placita v. 20.
8 Aristotle De Respir. c. 2, 470 b, 30; Panzer. 95.

He even |298| ascribed something analogous to respiration to metals, supposing them to absorb damp vapours (ἱκμὰς), and to exude them again, and thus seeking to explain the attractive power of the magnet. 1 Only animals, however, he considered, can breathe the air as such. Plants are entirely irrational, for the reason that they do not breathe it. 2
  Like Anaximander and Anaximenes, Diogenes is said to have assumed the perpetual alternation of the world’s construction and destruction, and an endless number of successive worlds. Simplicius 3 expressly says this, and the statement that Diogenes believed in an infinity of worlds 4 must have reference to it, for his whole cosmogony shows, even more clearly than the assertion of Simplicius (loc. cit.), 5 that he could only conceive the totality of simultaneous things as one whole limited in space. Stobaeus 6 speaks of a future end of the world, and Alexander, 7 of a gradual drying up of the sea, which must both have a similar reference; and even without this explicit testimony, we must have supposed Diogenes on this point, likewise, to have been in agreement with his predecessors.

1 Alex. Aphr. Quest. Nat. ii. 23, p. 188, Speng.
2 Theophrastus, loc. cit. 44.
3 Physics 257 b; vide supra, p. 278, 1.
4 Diogenes L. ix. 57; Plutarch ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica i 8, 13; Stobaeus i. 496; Theodoret, Graecorum affectionum curatio iv. 15, p. 58.
5 Where κόσμος could not be used in the singular if many contemporaneous worlds like those of Democritus were in question. Placita ii. 1, 6 (Stobaeus i. 440) seems to refer to Diogenes the Stoic.
6 i. 416, vide supra, p. 277, 4.
7 Meteorol. 91 a, according to Theophrastus, vide supra, p. 251, 1.

  In considering his theory as a whole, we must allow that notwithstanding its superiority to the previous philosophic theories in scientific and literary form, and in |299| its comparative wealth of empirical knowledge, there is a contradiction involved in its fundamental conceptions. If the orderly constitution of the world is only to be understood in reference to a world-forming reason, this presupposes that matter as such does not suffice to explain it; its cause cannot therefore be sought in one elementary body, and so Diogenes is forced to ascribe to this body qualities which not merely from our point of view, but absolutely and directly, exclude one another; for on the one hand he describes it as the subtlest and rarest, because it is the all-permeating and all-animating, and on the other, he makes things arise from it, not only by condensation, but also by rarefaction, which would be impossible if the primitive element were itself the rarest in existence. 1 That it is not merely 2 the warm air, or the soul, but air in general that Diogenes calls the rarest, we are at any rate clearly told by Aristotle, 3 who says that Diogenes held the soul to be air, because air is the rarest element and the primitive matter; and Diogenes himself (Frag. 6) says that the air is in all things, and permeates all things, which could not be unless it were itself the subtlest element. Nor can rarefaction 4 refer to a secondary form of air arising from previous condensation; for the ancient philosophers, with one accord, attribute the power of rarefaction, as well as condensation, to primitive matter; 5

1As Bayle has already remarked, Dict. Diogene. Rem. B.
2 As Panzerbieter (106) and Wendt zu Tennemann, i. 441, suppose.
3 In the passage quoted, supra, p. 290, 1.
4 As Ritter holds, Ion. Phil. p. 57.
5 Vide supra, p. 290, 4.

and this indeed lies in the nature of |300| things, for rarefaction and condensation mutually presuppose each other, and a condensation of one portion of a body of air is impossible without the simultaneous rarefaction of another. Thus, there is a contradiction in the bases of the system, resulting from the fact that its author adopted the idea of a world-forming reason, without therefore abandoning the ancient Ionian materialism, and especially the theories of Anaximenes on primitive matter.
  This circumstance would in itself lead us to conjecture that Diogenes’ theory did not wholly arise out of the development of the ancient Ionian physics, but under the influence of another philosophy, having a different standpoint; and that contradictory elements had therefore appeared in it. This conjecture becomes still more probable when we see, contemporaneously with Diogenes, the very definitions which contradict his materialistic presuppositions, brought forward by Anaxagoras in connection with a more logical doctrine. We have no certain information, it is true, as to the exact date of Diogenes, 1 but we have the testimony of Simplicius, 2 based probably upon Theophrastus,

1 The only fixed date, the mention of the aerolite of Aegospotamos, which fell 469 BC (Stobaeus i. 508; Theodoret Graecorum affectionum curatio iv. 18, p. 59; and Panzerbieter, p. 1 sq.), leaves an ample margin.
2 Physics 6 a: καὶ Διογένης δὲ ὁ Ἀπολλωνιάτης, σχεδὸν νεώτατος τῶν περὶ ταῦτα σχολασάντων, τὰ μὲν πλεῖστα συμπεφορημένως γέγραφε, τὰ μὲν κατὰ Ἀναξαγόραν τὰ δὲ κατὰ Λεύκιππον λέγων. Cf. supra, p, 290,1: p. 291, 1; with the appeal to Theophrastus. That Theophrastus really supposed Diogenes to be later than Anaxagoras seems probable lhkewise, because in discussing their theories he repeatedly places Diogenes after him. So De Sensu, 39; Hist. Plant. iii. 1. 4; vide Philippson, Ὕλν ἀνθρωπίνη, b 199. Diogenes is also described as a younger contemporary of Anaxagoras by Augustine, Civ. Dei, viii. 2; and Sidon. Apoll. xv. 89 sqq.; and for the same reason apparently in Cicero De Natura Deorum i. 12, 29, his namecomes last among all the pre-Socratic philosophers.

that |301| he appeared later than Anaxagoras, and wrote in partial dependence upon him. The carefulness of Diogenes in regard to the details of natural science, and especially the great precision of his anatomical knowledge, would assign him to a period when observation had made some advances: the period of a Hippo and a Democritus. 1 In the same way we shall find reason to suppose him later than Empedocles. On these grounds some dependence of Diogenes on Anaxagoras seems probable, and the internal evidence of their doctrines is wholly in favour of this view. The striking similarity between them makes it hardly credible that these doctrines should have been produced independently of each other. 2 Not only do Diogenes and Anaxagoras both require a world-forming reason, but they require it on the same ground, that the order of the universe was otherwise inexplicable to them: both describe this reason as the subtlest of all things; both derive the soul and life essentially from it. 3 We cannot, however, consider Anaxagoras as dependent on Diogenes, and Diogenes as the historical link between him and the older physicists. 4

1 This date is further supported by the circumstance which Petersen has shown to be probable in his Hippocratis Scripta ad Temp. Rat. Disposita, part i. p. 30 (Hamb. 1839, Gym-Progr.), namely that Aristophanes, Clouds 227 sqq., is alluding to the doctrine of Diogenes spoken of on p. 297, 6; which doctrine in that case must even then have attracted attention in Athens.
2 Panzerbieter, 19 sq.; Schaubach, Anaxagoras Fragment p. 32; Steinhart, loc. cit. 297, considers Diogenes to be rather earlier than Anaxagoras.
3 Cf. the section on Anaxagoras, infra.
4 Schleiermacher on Diogenes L. Werke, 3te Abth. ii. 156 sq., 166 sqq.; Branis, Geschichte der Philosophie s. Kant, i. 128 sqq., vide supra, b. 167. Krische is less positive, vide Forschungen auf dem Gebiete der alten Philosophie {Research in the Field of Ancient Philosophy} 170 sq. Schleiermacher, however, afterwards changed his opinion, for in his Geschichte der Philosophie p. 77 he describes Diogenes as an eclectic without principle belonging, with the Sophists and Atomists, to the third section of pre-Socratic philosophy, the period of its decay.

|302| Schleiermacher indeed thinks that had Diogenes been acquainted with the work of Anaxagoras, he must have expressly opposed Anaxagoras’ theory that the air is something composite; but in the first place we have no evidence to show that he did not oppose it; 1 and in the second we have no right to apply the standards of modern philosophy to the methods of the ancients, nor to expect from these latter a profound investigation of theories differing from their own, such as even a Plato did not always impose upon himself. The main principle of Anaxagoras, however, the separation of the organising reason from matter, Diogenes seems to me clearly enough to oppose, in his 6th Fragment. 2 Schleiermacher indeed finds no trace in the passage of any polemic of this kind, but merely the tone of a person who is newly introducing the doctrine of νοῦς: but the care with which Diogenes demonstrates that all the qualities of intelligence belong to the air, gives me the opposite impression. In the same way it seems to me that Diogenes 3 is so careful to prove the unthinkableness of several primitive substances, because he had been preceded by some philosopher who denied the unity of the primitive matter. That he is alluding to Empedocles only, and not to Anaxagoras, 4 isnimprobable, considering the many other points of contact between Diogenes and Anaxagoras.

1 He says of himself in Simplicius Physics 32 b: πρὸς φυσιολόγους ἄντειρηκέναι, obs καλεῖ αὐτὸς σοφιστάς.
2 Vide supra, p. 287, 7.
3 Frag. 2, vide supra, p. 286, 2.
4 Krische, p. 171.

If, however, he had Empedocles chiefly in view, that alone would show him to be |303| a younger contemporary of Anaxagoras, and his philosophy might be supposed to have appeared at a later date than that of Anaxagoras. Schleiermacher considers it more natural that spirit should first have been discovered in its union with matter, and afterwards in opposition to it; but this is hardly conclusive in regard to Anaxagoras’s relation to Diogenes; for the direct unity of spirit with matter, which was the starting point of the elder physicists, we do not find in Diogenes; on the contrary, he introduces thought, because the purely physical explanation of phenomena does not satisfy him. But if the importance of thought has once been recognised, it is certainly more probable that the new principle should be first set up in abrupt opposition to material causes, than that it should be combined with them in so uncertain a manner as by Diogenes. 1 The whole question is decided by this fact, that the conception of a world-forming reason is only logically carried out by Anaxagoras; Diogenes on the contrary attempts to combine it in a contradictory manner, with a standpoint entirely out of harmony with it. This indecisive sort of eclecticism is much more in keeping with the younger philosopher, who desires to make use of the new ideas without renouncing the old, than with the philosopher to whom the new ideas belong as his original possession. 2

1 This is also in opposition to Krische, p. 172.
2 We cannot argue much from the agreement of the two philosophers in certain physical theories, such as the form of the earth, the primitive lateral movement and subsequent inclination of the vault of heaven; the opinion that the stars are stony masses; or on the doctrine of the senses, for such theories are, as a rule, so little connected with philosophic principles, that either philosopher might equally well have borrowed them from the other. But Diogenes’ explanation of the sensuous perception, at any rate, shows a development of the doctrine of Anaxagoras (vide Philippson, Ὕλη ἀνθρωπίνη, 199), and his superiority in empirical knowledge marks him rather as a contemporary of Democritus than a predecessor of Anaxagoras. In his theories also of the magnet he seems to follow Empedocles.

Diogenes is therefore, in my |304| opinion, an adherent of the old Ionian physics, of the school of Anaximenes; sufficiently affected by the philosophic discovery of Anaxagoras to attempt a combination of his (Anaxagoras’) doctrine with that of Anaximenes, but for the most part following Anaximenes in his principle and the application of it. That there would be a retrograde movement, 1 according to this view, from Anaxagoras to Diogenes proves nothing; for historical progress in general does not exclude retrogression as to particulars: 2 that Anaxagoras, on the other hand, cannot be immediately related to Anaximenes 3 is true; but we have no right to conclude from this that Diogenes (rather than Heracleitus, the Eleatics or the Atomists) forms the connecting link between them. Lastly, though the theory of the ὁμοιομερῆ may be a more artificial conception than the doctrine of Diogenes, 4 it by no means follows that it must be the more recent; it is quite conceivable, on the contrary, that the very difficulties of the Anaxagorean explanation of nature may have had the effect of confirming Diogenes in his adherence to the more simple and ancient Ionic doctrine. The same might be conjectured in regard to the dualism of the principles professed by Anaxagoras; 5

1 Schleiermacher, loc. cit. 166.
2 From Anaxagoras to Archelaus there is a similar retrogression.
3 Schleiermacher, loc. cit.
4 Ibid.
5 On this account, Brandis (i. 272) considers Diogenes, with Archelaus and the Atomists, in the light of a reaction against the dualism of Anaxagoras.

and thus we must regard |305| the theory of Diogenes as the attempt of a later philosopher, partly to save the physical doctrine of Anaximenes and the earlier Ionians as against the innovations of Anaxagoras, and partly to combine them with each other. 1
  However noteworthy this attempt may be, the philosophic importance of it cannot be ranked very high; 2 the chief merit of Diogenes seems to consist in his having enlarged the range of the empirical knowledge of nature, and laboured to prove more completely the life and teleological constitution of nature in detail. But these ideas were themselves supplied to him by his predecessors, Anaxagoras and the ancient physicists. Greek philosophy, as a whole, had in the time of Diogenes long since struck out paths that conducted it far beyond the point of the earlier Ionian physics. 3

1 As is thought by most modern writers, cf. Reinhold, Gesch. d. Phil. 1. 60; Fries, Gesch. d. Phil. i. 236 sq.; Wendt zu Tennemann, i. 427 sqq.; Brandis, loc. cit.; Philippson, loc. cit., 198 sqq.; Ueberweg Grundr. i. 42, etc.
2 The doctrine that Steinhart (loc. cit. p. 298) finds in him, and considers an important advance, viz., ‘that all the Phenomenal is to be regarded as the self-abnegation of a principle that is permanent and persistent in itself, goes far beyond any of the actual expressions of Diogenes. In reality, he merely says (Frag. 2; vide supra, p. 286, 2) that all becoming and all reciprocal action of things among themselves presupposes the unity of their primitive matter. This is, in truth, a noteworthy and pregnant thought, but the conception of primitive matter and of the relation of primitive matter to things derived, are the same with him as with Anaximenes.
3 We are reminded of the physical notions of Diogenes, or, at any rate, of the ancient Ionic school, by the Pseudo-Hippocratic work, περὶ φύσιος παιδίου (cf. Petersen, p. 30 sq. of the treatise quoted supra, p. 801, 1). Here also we find evidence of the continuance of that school.

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|306|

§ 2. The Pythagoreans 1

i. Sources of Knowledge of Pythagorean Philosophy

  Among all the schools of philosophy known to us, there is none of which the history is so overgrown, we may almost say, so concealed by myths and fictions, and the doctrines of which have been so replaced in the course of tradition by such a mass of later constituents, as that of the Pythagoreans. Pythagoras and his school are seldom mentioned by writers anterior to Aristotle 2and even from Plato,

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1 The recent literature concerning Pythagoras and his school is given by Ueberweg, Grundr. i. 48. Of more comprehensive works, besides the accounts of Greek philosophy in general, and Ritter’s Gesch. d. Pythag. Phil. (1826), we have the second volume of Röth’s Gesch. d. Abendlichen Philosophie, which treats at great length (Abth. 1. pp. 261-984, and 2, pp. 48-319) of Pythagoras; and Chaignet’s work in two volumes, Pythagore et la Philosophie Pythagoricienne. Röth’s exposition, however, is so entirely devoid of all literary and historical criticism, launches out so confidently into the most arbitrary conjectures and the most extravagant fancies, and leaves so much to be desired in regard to the intelligent apprehension and the correct reproduction of authorities, that in respect to our historical knowledge of Pythagoreanism, hardly anything is to be learned from it. Chaignet’s careful work displays much more sobriety. But he places far too great confidence in spurious fragments and untrustworthy statements, and is thus not seldom misled into theories, which cannot stand before a more searching criticism. This could scarcely be otherwise, since he starts from the presupposition (i. 250, 4) that the authorities (without exception) are ‘valables, tant qu’on n’a pas démontré l’impossibilité qu’ils ne le soient pas’, instead of asking in each individual case whether the testimony is based on a tradition, founded on the historical fact, and only in proportion as this seems probable, giving credence to it.
2 The little that can be quoted respecting them from Xenophanes, Heracleitus, Democritus, Herodotus, Io of Chios, Plato, Isoerates, Anaximander the younger, and Andron of Ephesus, will be noticed in the proper place.

whose connection with them was |307| so close, we can glean very few historical details respecting them. Aristotle, indeed, bestowed much attention on the Pythagorean doctrine; not only discussing it in the course of his more comprehensive researches, but also treating it in separate treatises: 1 yet when we compare what he says with later expositions, it is found to be very simple and almost meagre. While later authors can expatiate at length upon Pythagoras and his doctrines, he is never mentioned, or at most once or twice, by Aristotle; his philosophic doctrines are passed over in silence, and the Pythagoreans are everywhere spoken of as if the writer were ignorant whether, and how far, their theories were really derived from Pythagoras himself. 2 Even the accounts which we get from the writings of the older Peripatetics and their contemporaries Theophrastus, Eudemus, Aristoxenus,

1 The statements concerning the writings in question, περὶ τῶν Πυθαγορείων. περὶ τῆς Ἀρχυτείου φιλοσοφίας, τὰ ἐκ τοῦ Τιμαίου καὶ τῶν Ἀρχυτείων, πρὸς τὰ Ἀλκμαίωνος, are given in Part. ii. b, p. 48, second edition. As to the treatise, περὶ τῶν Πυθαγορείων, vide also Alexander in Metaphysics 542 b, 5; Frag. 31, 1 Bon.; Stobaeus Eclogae i. 380; Theo, Arithm. 30; Plutarch ap. Gell. Ν. A. iv. 11, 12, Porphyry, V. Pythag. 41; Diogenes L. viii. 19, cf. Brandis, Gr. Röm. Phil. i. 439 sq.; ii. b 1, 85; Rose, De Aristotle libr. Ord. 79 sqq. Perhaps the so-calied treatises on Archytas and the rest are identical with those on the Pythagoreans, or with certain parts of them. Meanwhile, however probable it may be that the treatise on Archytas is spurious, this is not substantiated by Gruppe (Ueber d. Fragm. d. Arch. 79 sq.), or by Rose’s argument from the fragment hereafter to be quoted or by what he adduces (loc. cit.) from Damascius. Still more hazardous is Rose’s repudiation of all the above writings. The quotation in Diogenes L. viii. 34, Ἀριστοτέλης περὶ τῶν κυάμων, would equally apply to a portion of the treatise on the Pythagoreans, if, indeed (as is most likely), there be not some misunderstanding or interpolation in the passage.
2 οἱ καλούμενοι Πυθαγόρειοι; Metaphysics i. 5, at the beginning; i. 8, 989 b, 29; Meteorologica i. 8, 345 a, 14; οἱ περὶ τὴν ᾿Ιταλίαν καλούμενοι δὲ Πυθαγορείοι, De Caelo, ii. 18, 293 a, 20; τῶν ᾿Ιταλικῶν τινες καὶ καλουμένων Πυθαγορείων, Meteorologica i. 6, 342 b, 30; cf. Schwegler, Aristotle Metaphysics iii. 44.

|308| Dicaearchus, Heracleides, and Eudoxus 1—are far slighter and more cautious than the subsequent tradition; nevertheless, from them we ean see that legend had already taken possession of Pythagoras and his personal history; and that the later Peripatetics had begun to develop the Pythagorean doctrines according to their fancy.
  These sources (of which it is true we possess only fragments) give us scarcely a single detail which we did not already know through Aristotle. Farther developments of the Pythagorean legend, which relate, however, rather to the history of Pythagoras and his school, than to their doctrines, appear during the third and second centuries, in the statements of Epicurus, Timaeus, Neanthes, Hermippus, Hieronymus, Hippobetus, and others. But it was not until the time of the Neo-Pythagoreans, when Apollonius of Tyana wrote his Life of Pythagoras, when Moderatus compiled a long and detailed work on the Pythagorean Philosophy, when Nicomachus treated the theory of numbers and theology in accordance with the principles of his own school—that the authorities concerning Pythagoras and his doctrines became copious enough to make such expositions as those of Porphyry and Iamblichus possible. 2 Thus the tradition respecting Pythagoreanism

1 Röth, Abendl. Phil. ii. a, 270, adds to these Lyco, the opponent of Aristotle (cf. Part ii. b, 36, 2, second ed.), and Cleanthes the Stoic. But it is more probable that the former was a Neo-Pythagorean than a con- temporary of Aristotle; and theCleanthes of Porphyry is certainly not the Stoic, but most likely a mis- spelling for Neanthes (of Cyzicus).
2 To the beginning of this period belongs also (Part iii. b, 74 sqq.) the work from which Alexander Polyhistor (Diogenes L. viii. 24 sq.) has taken his exposition of the Pythagorean doctrine, and on which that of Sextus, Outlines of Pyrrhonism, iii. 152 sqq.; Adversos Mathematicos vii. 94 sqq.; x. 249 sqq., likewise appears to be based.

|309| and its founder grows fuller and fuller, the farther removed it is from the date of these phenomena; and more and more scanty, the nearer we approach them. With the range and extent of the accounts, their nature likewise changes. At first many miraculous stories about Pythagoras were in circulation. In course of time his whole history develops into a continuous series of the most extraordinary events. In the older statements, the Pythagorean system bore a simple and primitive character, in harmony with the general tendency of the pre-Socratic philosophy; according to the later representation, it approximates so greatly to the Platonic and Aristotelian doctrines that the Pythagoreans of the Christian period could even maintain 1 that the Philosophers of the Academy and the Lyceum had stolen their so-called discoveries, one and all, from Pythagoras. 2 It is plain that such a development of the tradition could not have been brought about by history, for how can we suppose that the writers of the Christian period had at their command a mass of authentic information unknown to Plato and Aristotle; and how can we recognise as genuine Pythagorean doctrines, propositions which Plato and Aristotle not only do not attribute to the Pythagoreans, but for the most part |310| expressly deny that they held, and claim as their own personal discoveries?

1 Porphyry, V. Pyth. 53, probably after Moderatus.
2 It is clear that precisely the opposite was actually the case, and that the ancient Pythagorean doctrine contained none of the accretions which afterwards made their appearance. This is betrayed by the author when he says that Plato and Aristotle collected all that they could not adopt, and omitting the remainder, called that the whole of the Pythagorean doctrine; and also in the statement of Moderatus (loc. cit. 48) that the number theory with Pythagoras and his disciples had been only symbolical of a higher speculation (cf. Part iii, b, 96 sq., second edition).

The so-called Pythagorean doctrines which are not acknowledged as such by ancient authorities are Neo-Pythagorean, and the miraculous tales and improbable combinations with which Pythagorean history is so largely adorned in the later authors, no doubt in great part emanate from the same source.
  But if the untrustworthy and unhistorical character of these expositions is in the main indisputable, we cannot venture to make use of the statements they contain, even where these statements are not in themselves opposed to historical probability, and to the more ancient and trustworthy authorities; for how can we, in regard to minor particulars, trust the assertions of those who have grossly deceived us in the most important matters? In all cases therefore where the later authorities, subsequent to the appearance of Neo-Pythagoreism, are unsupported by other testimony, their statements may generally be supposed to rest, not on real knowledge or credible tradition, but on dogmatic presuppositions, party interests, uncertain legends, arbitrary inventions, or falsified writings. Even the agreement of several such authorities cannot prove much, as they are accustomed to transcribe one from the other without any preliminary criticism; 1 their assertions merit attention only in cases where they may either be directly referred to older sources, or where their internal nature justifies us in the belief that they are founded on historical tradition.

1 Thus Iamblichus copies Porphyry, and both of them, as far as we may judge from their quotations, copied Apollonius and Moderatus.

  |311| What has just been said in regard to the indirect authorities for the Pythagorean doctrine, equally applies to the so-called direct sources. Later writers, belonging almost without exception to the Neo-Pythagorean and Neo-Platonic period, speak of an extensive Pythagorean literature, the nature and compass of which we may gather not only from the few writings we possess, but far more from the numerous fragments which exist of lost works. 1 A very small fraction, however, of these writings may with any probability be ascribed to the ancient Pythagorean school. Had this school possessed such a mass of written works, it would be hard to understand why the ancient authors should not contain more distinct allusions to them, and especially why Aristotle should be so entirely silent as to Pythagoras’ own doctrine, 2 when several of these |312| writings bear his very name. 1a

1 A review of these is given in Part iii. b, p. 85 sqq., second edition. Mullach, however, has printed, in his second volume of fragments, most of those omitted in the first.
2 Diogenes, viii. 6, mentions three works of Pythagoras: a παιδευτικὸν, a πολιτικὸν, and a φυσικόν. Heracleides Lembus (about 180 BC) besides these speaks of a treatise, περὶ τοῦ ὅλου, and a ἱερὸς λόγος, in hexameters. How this last is related to the ἱερὸς λόγος, consisting of twenty-four rhapsodies which, according to Suidas, must be attributed to Orpheus, and according to others, was written by Theognetus the Thessalian, or Cereops the Pythagorean, and is probably identical with the Orphic Theogony (Lobeck, Aglaoph. i. 714) cannot be discovered. That the fragments of a Πυθαγόρειος ὕμνος about number (ap. Proclus in Timaeus 155 C, 269 B, 331 E, 212 A, 6 A, 96 b; Syrian in Metaphysics 59 b; Schol. in Aristotle 893 a, 19 sqq.; Simplicius, Physics 104 b; De Caelo, 259 a, 37; Schol. 511 b, 12; cf. Themist. in Physics iii. 4, b. 220, 22 sq.; in De An. i. 2, pp. 20, 21; Theo, Mus. c. 38, p. 155; Sextus Empiricus Adversos Mathematicos iv. 2; vii. 94. 109; Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 162. and Lobeck, loc. cit.) belong to the ἱερὸς λόγος of Pythagoras, it is impossible to prove; but Proclus distinguishes the Pythagorean hymn very distinctly from the Orphic poem. Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 146; cf. Proclus in Timaeus 289 B, gives the commencement of a second ἱερὸς λόγος in prose, which was also ascribed to Telauges. Fragments of this are to be found in Iamblichus, Nicom. Arithm. |312| b. 11; Syrian in Metaphysics; Schol. in Ar. 842 a, 8, 902 a, 24, 911 b, 2, 931 a, 5; Hieroclis in aureum Pythagoreorum carmen commentarius p. 166 (Philos. Gr. Frag. ed. Mull. i. 464 b); cf. also Proclus in Euclid. p. 7 (222 Friedl.). This ἱερὸς λόγος, as appears from the above quotations, is chiefly concerned with the theological and metaphysical import of numbers. In Diod. i. 98 there is mention of a ἱερὸς λόγος of Pythagoras, by which we must probably understand the one in verse, and not the prose work which seems to have been later. Besides the above-named writings Heracleides, loc. cit., notices others; περὶ ψυχῆς, περὶ εὐσεβείας, ‘Helothales,’ and ‘Croton’ (these last were dialogues, as it would seem), καὶ ἄλλους; Iamblichus (Theologoumena arithmeticae p. 19) a σύγγραμμα περὶ θεῶν, probably to be distinguished from the ἱεροὶ λόγοι; Pliny, Historia Naturalis xxv. 2,13; xxiv. 17, 156 sq., a book on the influences of plants; Galen, De Remed. Parah. vol. xiv. 567 K, a treatise περὶ σκίλλης; Proclus, in Timaeus 141 D, a λόγος πρὸς Ἄβαριν; Tzetzes. Chil. ii. 888 sq. (cf. Harless, in Fabr. Bibl. Gr. i. 786), προγνωστικὰ βιβλία; Malal. 66 D; Cedren. 138 C, a history of the war between the Samians and Cyrus; Porphyry, p. 16, an inscription on the grave of Apollo in Delos. Io of Chios (or more probably Epigenes, to whom Kallimachus attributed the τριαγμοί) asserted that he composed pseudo-Orphic writings (Clement, loc. cit.; Diogenes L. viii. 8), and that Hippasus had stolen from him a μυστικὸς λόγος, and from Asto, the Crotonian, a whole series of works (Diogenes, viii: 7). A κατάβασις εἰς ἄδου seems to have given rise to the tale of the philosopher's journey to Hades (vide infra, 340, 2). Nietzsche (On the Sources of Diogenes Laertius, d. Laërt. Diogenes L., Basel, 1870, p. 16 sq.) refers to the same source the statement in Diogenes L. viii.: αὐτοῦ λέγουσι καὶ τὰς σκοπιάδας, substituting conjecturally σκοπὰς Αἴδαο for σκοπιάδας. The verses in Justin (De Monarch. c. 2, end) have reference to a poem forged or interpolated by a Jewish hand; other fragments of Pythagorean writings are to be found in Just. Cohort. c. 19 (Clement, Protr. 47 C, etc.; cf. Otto, note on the passage in Justin); Porphyry De Abstin. iv. 18; Iamblichus Theologoumena arithmeticae 19; Syrian, Schol. in Aristotle 912 a, 32 b, 4. sqq. It is doubtful whether there was a system of Arithmetic in circulation under the name of Pythagoras, to which the statement of his having written the first work on Arithmetic may refer (vide Malal. 67 a; Cedren. 138 D, 156 B; Isodor. Origen iii. 2). The numerous moral maxims which Stobaeus quotes in the Florilegium from Pythagoras do not seem to have been taken from any work falsely attributed to him. The so-called Golden Poem was by many ascribed to Pythagoras, although it does not itself lay claim to such an origin (vide Mullach in his edition of Hieroclis in aureum Pythagoreorum carmen commentarius 9 sq.; Fragm. Philos. Gr. i. 410, and the summaries of the extracts from Stobaeus, loc. cit.), and Iamblichus, Vita Pythagorica 158, 198, speaks in a general manner of many books embracing the whole of philosophy, which were some of them written by Pythagoras himself, and some under his name.
1a For the story of the concealment of these writings (vide infra, note 4), which, according to Iamblichus, was no longer believed, even in the time of Aristotle, cannot be brought forward, more especially if Io had already been acquainted with them (vide preceding note). Röth's groundless statement that Aristotle and the other ancient authorities knew only of the Pythagoreans, the exoterics of the school, and not of the esoteric doctrines taught to the Pythagoreans—(an indispensable and fundamental presupposition of his whole exposition) will be examined infra. If this statement be disproved, there is an end of the attempt to reconstruct the ἱερὸς λόγος of Pythagoras from the fragments of the Orphic poem, said to be identical with it (Röth, ii. a, 609-764); since the Pythagorean origin of this poem is not only wholly undemonstrable, but quite incompatible with all credible accounts of the Pythagorean doctrine. Disregarding Lobeck’s classical labours, Röth confuses in such an uncritical manner statements from Orphic and Pythagorean works relating to writings entirely distinct, and separated from each other by centuries; so that his whole pretentious and elaborate discussion can only mislead those who are less instructed, while for the learned it is utterly valueless.

1 Diogenes L. vii. 2, names Pherecydes and Hermodamas, a descendant of the Homerid Creophylus of Samos, and, according to Iamblichus 11, himself called Creophylus. Neanthes (ap. Porphyry 2, 11, 15) adds to these Anaximander, Iamblichus (9, 11, 184, 252) Thales. Instead of Thales, Apuleius (Floril. ii, 15, p. 61, Hild.) names Epimenides, with whom, according to Diogenes L. viii. 3, Pythagoras was acquainted. The Scholiast of Plato, p. 420, Bekk. says that he first attended Pherecydes’ instructions, then those of Hermodamas, afterwards those of Abaris, the Hyperborean (vide infra). Thus it is plain that as time went on, celebrated names continued to be added to the list. Abaris and Epimenides are, however, also called disciples of Pythagoras (Iamblichus 135).
2 Besides the text already quoted, Diogenes L. i. 118 sq.; vili. 40 (after Aristoxenus), Andron, and Satyrus; the epitaph of which Duris, ap. Diogenes L. i. 120, speaks; Cicero Tusculan Disputations i. 16, 38<; i>De Div. i. 50, 112; Diodor. Fragm. p. 554; Ps. Alex. in Metaphysics 828-a, 19, Frag. 800, 24 Bon. etc.
3 For in the first place it was very natural that the thaumaturgist, Pythagoras, should have been represented as the pupilof an older contemporary of similar character, who likewise held the dogma of Transmigration; and secondly, the accounts on the subject are not agreed as to details. According to Diogenes L. viii. 2, Pythagoras was brought to Pherecydes at Lesbos, and after Pherecydes’ death, handed over to Hermodamas in Samos. Iamblichus 9, 11, says that he was instructed by Pherecydes first in Samos, and then in Syros. Porphyry (15, 56) says, following Dicaearchus and others, that he tended his master, who was sick in Delos, and buried him before his departure to Italy; on the other hand, Diodorus (loc. cit.), Diogenes L. viii. 40, and Iamblichus 184, 252, following Satyrus and his epitomiser, Heracleides, say that shortly before his own death he went from Italy to Delos for that purpose.

|328| are said to have acquainted him with the wisdom and religious ceremonies of the Phoenicians, 1 the Chaldaeans, 2 the Persian Magi, 3 the Hindoos, 4 the Arabians, 5 the

1 According to Cleanthes (Neanthes), in Porphyry, Vita Pythagorae 1, Pythagoras was brought as a boy to Tyre by his father, and there instructed by ‘the Chaldeans.’ Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 14, says that when he left Samos on his great travels, he first went to Sidon, and there met with prophets, the descendants of the ancient Mochus (vide supra, p. 48, and infra, chapter on the Atomists, note 2), and other hierophants; that he visited Tyre, Biblus, Carmel, etc., and was initiated into all the mysteries of the country. Porphyry (Vita Pythagorae 6) is more moderate; he merely states that Pythagoras is said to have gained his arithmetical knowledge from the Phoenicians.
2 According to Neanthes, Pythagoras had, when a boy, been instructed by the Chaldaeans (vide previous note). According to all other testimony, he first came to Babylon from Egypt, either of his own accord, or as the prisoner of Cambyses. This statement appears in its simplest form in Strabo, xiv. i. 16, p. 638: Πυθαγόραν ἷστροῦσιν…ἀπελθεῖν εἰς Αἴγυπτον καὶ Βαβυλῶνα φιλομαθείας χάριν. Clement, Stromata 302 C, merely says: Χαλδαίων τε καὶ Μάγων τοῖς ἀρίστοις συνεγένετο; Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica x. 4, 9 sq.; Antipho, ap. Diogenes L. viii. 3; Schololium Plato p. 420, Bekker. Porphyry 6 say that he learned astronomy from the Chaldeans. In Justin xx. 4, he is said to have travelled to Babylon and Egypt, ad perdiscendos siderum motus originemque mundi spectandam. Apul. Florilegium ii. 15, states that he was instructed by the Chaldeans in astronomy, astrology, and medicine. According to Diogenes in the book of Prodigies (ap. Porphyry 11) he learned the interpretation of dreams from the Chaldaeans and Hebrews (or from the Hebrews only?). In Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 19; Theologoumena arithmeticae p. 41, we are told that in the conquest of Egypt by Cambyses he was carried as a prisoner to Babylon, remained twelve years in that city, where in his intercourse with the Magi, he not only perfected himself in mathematics and music, but completely adopted their religious prescripts and practices. That Iamblichus is here following some older authority (Apollonius, no doubt), is shown by the statement of Apuleius' Florida ii. 15. Many maintain that Pythagoras was taken prisoner by Cambyses in his Egyptian campaign, and was only set at liberty a long time after by Gillus the Crotonian; and that in consequence of this he had the benefit of the instructions of the Persian Magi, especially Zoroaster.
3 Pythagoras must early have been brought into connection with the Magi, and especially with Zoroaster, if what Hippolytus says is true (Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2, p. 12 D); cf. vi. 23: Διόδωρος δὲ ὁ ᾿Ερετριεὺς (a writer otherwise unknown) Καὶ Ἀριστόξενος ὃ μουσικός φασι πρὸς |329| Ζαράταν τὸν Χαλδαῖον ἐληλυθέναι Πυθαγόραν: he imparted to Pythagoras his doctrine, which Hippolytus proceeds to describe, but in a very untrustworthy manner. This statement of Hippolytus, however, is hardly sufficient to prove that Aristoxenus asserted a personal acquaintance between Pythagoras and Zoroaster. He may, perhaps, have observed the similarity of the two doctrines, and hazarded the conjecture that Pythagoras was acquainted with Zoroaster; for there is no certainty at all that Hippolytus himself knew the work of Aristoxenus. What he says about the Zoroastrian doctrines which Pythagoras adopted cannot have been taken as it stands from Aristoxenus, because it presupposes the story about Pythagoras’ prohibition of beans to be true, while, as we shall presently find, Aristoxenus expressly contradicts it. Besides, the evidence of Aristoxenus would merely prove that even in his time similarities had been discovered between the Pythagorean and the Zoroastrian doctrine, then well known in Greece (cf. Diogenes L. i. 8 sq.; Damascius De Principia 125, p. 384, and that these resemblances had been explained after the manner of the Greeks by the hypothesis of a personal relation between the two authors. Plutarch seems to have derived his shorter statement from the same source as Hippolytus; there is, therefore, all the less reason to doubt that here too, as in Hippolytus, Zaratas originally meant Zoroaster; supposing even that Plutarch himself, who (De Iside et Osiride 46, p. 369) makes Zoroaster to have lived 5000 years before the Trojan war, discriminated them. Our most ancient authority for this relationship is Alexander (Polyhistor). who, according to Clement, Stromata i. 304 B, said in his work on the Pythagorean symbols: Ναζαράτῳ τῷ Ἀσσυρίῳ μαθητεῦσαι τὸν Πυθαγόραν. This Ναζάρατος is evidently Zoroaster; if, indeed, Zapata ought not to be substituted. That Pythagoras visited the Persian Magi we are likewise told in Cicero Fin. v. 29, 87; cf. Tusculan Disputations iv. 19, 44; Diogenes L. vill. 3 (perhaps after Antipho); Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica x. 4; Cyrill. c. Jul. iv. 188 D; Scholium in Plato p. 420. Bekk.; Apul. (vide preceding note); Suidas, Πυθ. Valer. Max. viii. 7, 2, assert that he learned astronomy and astrology in Persia from the Magi. Antonius Diogenes relates, ap. Porphyry, Vita Pythagorae 12 (ἐν τοῖς ὑπὲρ Θούλην ἀπίστοις, the well-known book of fables described by Phot. Cod. 166, and treated not only by Porphyry, but also by Röth, 11. a, 343, as a work of the highest authenticity), that he met Ζάβρατος in Babylon, was purified by him from the sins of his previous life, and instructed in the abstinences necessary to piety, and in the nature and reasons of things.
4 Clement Stromata i. 304 B: ἀκηκοέναι τε πρὸς τούτοις Γαλατῶν καὶ Βραχμάνων τὸν Πυθαγόραν βούλεται (namely, Alexander in the work quoted in the previous note); after him, Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica x. 4, 10; Apul. Florilegium ii. 19: of the Brahmins whom he visited, he learned quae mentium documenta corporumque exercitamenta, quot partes animi, quot vices vite, que Diis manibus pro merito sui cuique tormenta vel premia. Philostr. V. Apoll. viii. 7, 44, says that the wisdom of Pythagoras was derived from the Egyptian γυμνῆται and the Indian sages
5 Diogenes L. in Porphyry, 11.

|330| Jews, 1 the Thracians, 2 the Druids of Gaul, 3 but above

1 That Pythagoras borrowed many of his doctrines from the Jews is asserted by Aristobulus in Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica xiii. 12, 1, 3 (ix. 6, 3), and the same is repeated by Joseph. Con. Ap. i. 22, and Clement Stromata v. 560 A (who thinks that the acquaintance of Plato and Pythagoras with the Mosaic writings is shown in their doctrines). Cyrill. c. Jul. i. 29 D, Jos. appeals in support of this to Hermippus, who, in his work on Pythagoras, says: ταῦτα δ᾽ ἔπραττε καὶ ἔλεγε τὰς ᾿Ιουδαίων καὶ Θρακῶν δόξας μιμούμενος καὶ μεταφέρων εἰς ἑαυτόν, He had also said the same, as Origen, c. Cels. i. 13, relates with the word λέγεται, ἐν τῷ πρώτῳ περὶ νομοθετῶν, If even these authors derived their statements from Aristobulus, it is not certain that Hermippus really expressed himself thus; but supposing he did so, it would only prove that this Alexandrian sage, of the early part of the second century before Christ, had found the assertion among the Alexandrian Jews, and believed it; or else that he had himself observed some similarities between the Pythagorean and Jewish doctrines, and had inferred from them that Pythagoras was acquainted with the customs and doctrines of the Jews.
2 Hermippus, ap. Jos., vide preceding note. This statement was no doubt based upon the likeness of the Pythagorean mysteries to those of the Orphics, and especially in their common doctrine of Transmigration. In consequence of this likeness, Pythagoras was represented as the pupil of the Thracians; he had, it is said, received his consecration from Aglaophamus in Libethra; as the pseudo-Pythagoras himself (not Telauges as Röth ii. a, 357, b, 77, supposes) says in the fragment of a ἱερὸς λόγος in Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 146, cf. 151, and following that authority, Proclus in Tim. 289 B; Plat. Theol. i. 5, p. 13. Conversely, in the legend of Zalmoxis (ap. Herodotus iv. 95, and others after him, e.g. Ant. Diogenes L. ap. Photius Cod. {Codex} 166, p. 110 a; Strabo, vii. 8, 5; xvi. 2, 39, p. 297, 762; Hippolytus vide next note), the doctrine of immortality of the Thracian Getae is derived from Pythagoras.
3 Surprising as this sounds, it is undeniably asserted by Alexander in the passage quoted p. 329, 4; and Röth (ii. a, 346) is entirely on a wrong track when he discovers in it a misunderstanding of the statement that Pythagoras met in Babylon with Indians and Calatians (an Indian race mentioned in Herodotus iii. 38, 97, who, being of a dark colour, he calls also Ethioplans, c. 94, 101). The idea probably arose in this way. The Pythagorean doctrine of Transmigration was found, or supposed to be found (vide supra, p. 73,1), among the Gauls; as every such similalarity was thought to be based upon a relation of teacher and taught, either Pythagoras was made a disciple of the Gauls, as by Alexander, or the Druids were made disciples of the Pythagorean philosophy, as by Diodorus and Ammian (vide supra, 73, 1), into which, according to Hippolytus Refut, haer. i. 2, 9 E; ibid. e. 25, they were regularly initiated by Zamolxis. Iamblichus (151) says also that Pythagoras was instructed by the Celts, and even by the Iberians.

|331| all with the mysteries of the Egyptians 1—even the journey to Egypt, though this is comparatively the best attested and finds supporters 2 among quite recent writers—cannot be satisfactorily established.

1 The first known author who speaks of Pythagoras being in Egyptis Isocrates, Bus. 11: ὃς (Πυθ.) ἀφικόμενος eis Αἴγυπτον καὶ μαθητὴς ἐκείνων γενόμενος τήν τ' ἄλλην φιλοσοφίαν πρῶτος εἰς τοὺς Ἕλληνας ἐκόμισε, καὶ τὰ περὶ τὰς θυσίας καὶ τὰς ἁγιστείας τὰς ἐν τοῖς ἱεροῖς ἐπιφανέστερον τῶν ἄλλων ἐσπούδασεν. The next testimony, Cicero Fin. v. 29, 87, merely says Aegyptum lustravit; similarly Strabo (vide supra, 328,1); Justin, Hist. xx. 4; Schol. in Plato, p. 420, Bekk.; Diodorus, i. 96, 98, learned much more from the statements of the Egyptian priests, said to be taken from their sacred writings, vide supra, p. 27, 1. Plutarch Quaestiones Convivales viii. 8, 2, 1, makes out that Pythagoras was a long while in Egypt, and adopted the precepts concerning the ἱερατικαὶ ἀγιστεῖαι, such as the prohibition of beans and fish. The same authority, De Iside et Osiride 16, p. 354, derives the Pythagorean symbolism from Egypt; Ps.-Justin (Cohort. 19) says the Pythagorean doctrine of the Monad as the first principle came from there. According to Apul. Florilegium ii. 15, Pythagoras learned from the Egyptian priests cerimoniarum potentias, numerorum vices, geometric formulas; according to Valer. Max. viii. 7, 2, he found in the ancient books of the priests, when he had learned the Egyptian writing, innumerabilium seculorum observationes; Antipho (Diogenes L. viii. 3 and Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 7 sq.) relates how Polycrates introduced him to Amasis, and Amasis to the Egyptian priests; and how he thus after many difficulties, which his perseverance at length overcame, gained admittance to the Egyptian mysteries and holy rites. He says also that he learned the Egyptian language. From this author, Clement, Stromata ii. 302 c, and Theodoret, Graecorum affectionum curatio i. 15, p. 6, no doubt derive their statement that he was circumcised in Egypt. Anton. Diogenes (ap. Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 11) says that he learned the wisdom of the Egyptian priests, especially their religious doctrine, the Egyptian language and the three kinds of Egyptian writing. Iamblichus, Vita Pythagorica 12 sqq. (cf p. 325, note), gives a circumstantial account of his wonderful voyage from Mount Carmel to Egypt (whither, according to Theologoumena arithmeticae 41, he had fied from the tyranny of Polycrates), and goes on to tell of his 22 years’ intercourse with the priests and prophets, in which he learned all that was worth knowing, visited all the temples, gained access to all the mysteries, and devoted himself to astronomy, geometry, and religious exercises. The king in whose reign Pythagoras came to Egypt is called by Pliny (Historia Naturalis xxxvi: 9, 71) Psemetnepserphres (for which the manuscripts also give Semetnepsertes and other forms); the priest who instructed him is said by Plutarch, De Iside et Osiride 10, to have been Oinupheus of Heliopolis. Clement Stromata i. 303 C, names Sonches. Plutarch (De Iside et Osiride. 26; Solon, 10) makes Sonches the instructor of Solon.
2 E.g. independently of Röth, Chaignet (Pythagore, i. 43 sqq.; ii. 853), who is very inaccurate when he says (i. 46) that I declare it certain that Pythagoras never went to Egypt. I say it is undemonstrable that he was there; I never said it was demonstrable that he was not there.

|332| The most ancient evidence for this journey, that of Isocrates, is more than a hundred and fifty years later than the event to which it refers, and moreover is contained, not in a historical work, but in a rhetorical oration which itself makes no pretension to historical credibility. 1 Such testimony has obviously no weight at all; and even if Isocrates did not himself originate the idea that Pythagoras had been in Egypt, there would still remain the doubt whether the source from which he took it was grounded on historical tradition. This, however, is not only beyond the reach of proof, but is contrary to all probability. Herodotus, it is true, remarks on the analogy of one Pythagorean usage with a custom of the Egyptians; 2

1 The Busiris of Isocrates is one of those works in which the Greek rhetors, after the time of the Sophists, sought to surpass one another in panegyries on evil or worthless persons and things, and in accusations against men universally admired. The Rhetor Polyerates had written an apology for Busiris. Isocrates shows him how he should have handled his theme. He explains his points of view very candidly, c. 12. The adversary of Busiris, he says, has ascribed wholly incredible things to him, such as the diverting of the Nile from its course, and the devouring of strangers. It is true that Isocrates cannot prove what he affirms of him, but he certainly does not attribute to him impossible deeds, nor acts of bestial savagery: ἔπειτ᾽ εἰ καὶτυγχάνομεν ἀμφότεροι ψευδῆ λέγοντες, ἀλλ’ οὖν ἐγὼ μὲν κέχρημαι τούτοις τοῖς λόγοις, οἷς περ χρὴ τοὺς ἐπαινοῦντας, σὺ δ᾽ οἷς προσήκει τοὺς λοιδοροῦντας. It is evident that writings which announce themselves as rhetorical inventions cannot be of the smallest value; and if we cannot prove from this work that Busiris was the author of the whole Egyptian culture, neither can we accept it as historical evidence for the presence of Pythagoras in Egypt, and his connection with the Egyptian priests.
2 ii. 81. The Egyptian priests wear linen trousers under their woolen garments, in which they were not allowed to enter the temple, or to be buried. ὁμολογέουσι δὲ ταῦτα τοῖσι ᾿Ορφικοῖσι καλεομένοισι καὶ Βακχικοῖσι, ἐοῦσι δὲ Αἰγυπτίοισι, καὶ Πυθαγορείοισι. That is, ‘they agree in this respect with the so-called Orphics and Bacchics, who, however, are in truth Egyptians, and with the Pythagoreans;’ not, as Röth (ii. a, 381) and (in spite of the previous remark) Chaignet (i. 45) translate it: ‘They agree in this with the usages of the Orphic and Bacchic rites of consecration, which, however, are Egyptian and Pythagorean.’

he also says that the |333| belief in Metempsychosis came from Egypt into Greece; 1 but he never hints that Pythagoras brought it thither, seeming rather to assume that it had been transmitted to the Greeks 2 before the time of that philosopher. As to the presence of Pythagoras in Egypt, though there was every opportunity for mentioning it, he preserves so strict a silence that we can only suppose he knew nothing of it. 3 Nor does Aristoxenus seem to have been aware of it. 4 Thus there is an entire dearth of all trustworthy evidence respecting the supposed

1 ii. 123. The Egyptians first taught Immortality and Transmigration: τούτῳ τῷ λόγῳ εἰσὶ οἵ Ἑλλήνων ἐχρήσαντο, οἱ μὲν πρότερον, οἱ δὲ ὕστερον. ὡς ἰδίῳ ἑωυτῶν ἐόντι: τῶν ἐγὼ εἰδὼς τὰ οὐνόματα οὐ γράφω.᾽
2 Though it is probable that Herodotus, in the passage just quoted, when speaking of the later philosophers who adopted the doctrine of Transmigration, was especially referring to Pythagoras, he does not necessarily mean that Pythagoras himself acquired it in Egypt. Herodotus names Melampus as having imported the Egyptian Dionysiac cultus into Greece (vide supra, 71, 4); it would seem, therefore, that Melampus is primarily alluded to among the ‘ancients’ who introduced the doctrine of Transmigration into the Orphic Dionysiac mysteries. In that case Pythagoras would not have required to go to Egypt, in order to become acquainted with this doctrine.
3 For Röth’s explanation (ii. b, 74) that Herodotus purposely avoided mentioning Pythagoras from his antipathy to the Crotoniates, who were hostile to the Thurians, is not only very far-fetched, but demonstrably false. Herodotus does mention him in another place (iv. 945), and with the honourable addition: Ἑλλήνων οὐ τῷ ἀσθενεστάτῳ σοφιστῇ Πυθαγόρῃ; and in ii. 123 (previous note) he passes over his and other names, not from aversion, but forbearance. If he is silent as to his connection with Egypt, the most natural reason for his silence is that he knew nothing of any such connection. Also in ii. 81 (vide supra, p. 332, 2), he would doubtless have expressed himself otherwise, if he had derived the Pythagoreans from Egypt in the same manner as the Orphics.
4 None of our authorities, at any rate, who speak of Pythagoras’ Egyptian journeys, refer to Aristoxenus.

|334| journeys of Pythagoras in the East; our authorities become more copious as we recede from the philosopher’s own time, and more meagre as we approach it; before the beginning of the fourth century they entirely fail. Each later writer has more to tell than his predecessor; and in proportion as the acquaintance of the Greeks with the Oriental civilised nations increases, the extent of the journeys which brought the Samian philosopher to be instructed by them likewise increases. This is the way that legends are formed and not historical tradition. We cannot, indeed, pronounce it impossible that Pythagoras should have gone to Egypt or Phoenicia, or even to Babylon, but it is on that account all the more indemonstrable. The whole character of the narratives of his journeys strengthens the supposition that, as they now stand, they can have been derived from no historical reminiscence; that it was not the definite knowledge of his intercourse with foreign nations which gave rise to the theories as to the origin of his doctrine; but, conversely, the presupposition of the foreign source of his doctrine which occasioned the stories of his intercourse with the barbarians. There is quite enough to account for such a presupposition, even if it were founded on no actual contemporary tradition, in the syncretism of later times, in the false pragmatism 1 which could only explain the similarity of Pythagorean doctrines and usages with those of the East by the theory of personal relations between Pythagoras and the Orientals, and in the tendency to

1 There is no English equivalent for the German word Pragmatismus, which may perhaps be explained as the tendency to explain the history of thought by imaginary combinations of fact.—Note by Translator.

|335| panegyric of the Pythagorean legend which loved to concentrate the wisdom of the whole human race in its hero. 1 The statement that Pythagoras visited Crete and Sparta, partly to become acquainted with the laws of those countries, partly that he might be initiated into the mysteries of the Idzan Zeus, stands on no better foundation. 2 The thing is in itself conceivable, but the evidence is too uncertain, and the probability of any historical tradition as to these details too scanty to allow of our placing any trust in the assertion. So, too, the theory that the philosopher owed his wisdom to Orphic teachers 3 and writings, even though it may not be wholly wrong as to the fact, is doubtless based, as it stands, not on any historical reminiscence, but on the presuppositions of a period in which an Orphicc theosophy and literature had formed itself to some extent under Pythagorean and Neo-Pythagorean influences. The truth is, that we possess no document which deserves to be considered a historical tradition concerning the education of Pythagoras and the resources at his command. Whether it be possible to supply this want by inferences from the internal nature of the Pythagorean doctrine, we shall enquire later on.

1 Because Pythagoras could scarcely have attained that ‘polymathy,’ for which he is extolled by Heracleitus (vide infra, p. 336, 4), otherwise than by travels (Chaignet, i. 40; Schuster, Heracl. 372), it does not at all follow that he went to Egypt, or visited non-Hellenic countries. Moreover, Heracleitus rather derives his learning from writings which he studied; it is possible, however, that these may have been collected by him previously on his journeys.
2 Justin. xx. 4; Valer. Max. viii. 7, ext. 2; Diogenes L. viii. 3 (Epimenides); Iamblichus 25; Porphyry 17, cf. p. 363, 2.
3 Vide supra, p. 330, 2.

  The first luminous point in the history of this |336| philosopher is his emigration to Magna Graecia, the date of which we cannot precisely fix, 1 nor can we do more than conjecture the reasons which led to it. 2 His activity, however, does not seem to have begun in Italy. The ordinary accounts, it is true, do not leave space for a long period of activity in Samos. Other texts, however, maintain that he at first laboured there successfully 3 for some time, and if this assertion, considering the fables connected with it and the untrustworthiness of its evidence, may hardly seem deserving of notice, yet the manner in which Pythagoras is mentioned by Heracleitus and Herodotus would appear to bear it out. 4 Heracleitus soon after the death of this philosopher speaks of his various knowledge and of his (in Heracleitus’s opinion erroneous) wisdom, as of a thing well known in Ionia. 5 Now, it is not likely that the report of it had first reached Ionia from Italy. For, according to other testimony (vide infra),

1 Vide supra, p. 324, 2.
2 The statements of the ancients Iamblichus 28 says he did so in order to avoid the political activity, which are probably mere arbitrary conjectures. Most of them assert with Aristoxenus (ap. Porphyry 9) that the tyranny of Polycrates occasioned his migration (Strabo, xiv. 1. 16, p. 638; Diogenes L. viii. 3; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2, sub init.; Porphyry 16; Themistocles Or. xxiii. 285 b; Ps-Plutarch Placita i. 8, 24; Ovid. Metam. xv. 60, etc.), and that this assertion contradicts the uncertain story of Polycrates’s commendatory letters to Amasis is no argument against it. But it cannot be considered as proved, since the combination was perfectly obvious. Others (Iamblichus 20, 28) say that he emigrated because the Samians had too little taste for philosophy. On the other hand, the admiration of his fellow-citizens would have forced upon him.
3 Antipho. ap. Porphyry 9; Iamblichus 20 sqq., 26 sqq.
4As Ritter pertinently remarks, Pyth. Phil. 31. What Brandis says to the contrary does not appear to me conclusive.
5 Frag. 22,, ap. Diogenes L. Viii. 6: Πυθαγόρης Μνησάρχου ἱστορίην ἤσκησεν ἀνθρώπων μάλιστα πάντων, καὶ ἐκλεξάμενος ταύτας τὰς συγγραφὰς ἐποίησεν ἑωυτοῦ σοφίην, πολυμαθηΐην, κακοτεχνίην. (Cf. ibid. ix. 1.) The words ἐκλεξ…συγγραφὰς, which I cannot think inserted by the narrator, must refer to writings previously mentioned by Heracleitus. Cf. p. 227, 2; 2nd edit.

|337| the spread of Italian Pythagoreanism was brought about by the dispersion of the Pythagoreans long after the death of the master. Again, the well-known and often quoted narrative of Zalmoxis 1 presupposes that Pythagoras had already played the same part in his own country that he afterwards played in Magna Grecia. In this story a Gaetic divinity takes the form of a man and communicates with Pythagoras. The motive of that fiction evidently is to explain the presumed similarity of the Gaetic belief in immortality with the Pythagorean doctrine (vide supra, p. 73, 1); yet the story could never have been invented if the name of the philosopher had been unknown to the Greeks on the Hellespont, from whom Herodotus received it, and if in their opinion his activity had first commenced in Italy. Whether among his countrymen he found less appreciation than he had hoped for, or whether other reasons, such as the tyranny of Polycrates or the fear of the Persian invasion, had disgusted him with his native city, in any case he left it and took up his abode in Crotona, a city with which he may possibly have had some personal connections, and which may well have commended itself to him on account of the far-famed salubrity of its site and the vigorous activity of its inhabitants. 2 Here he found the proper soil for

1 Herodotus iv. 95.
2 According to a statement (ap. Porphyry 2), he had some previous connection with Crotona, having travelled thither as a boy with his father; but this is hardly more historical than the story mentioned by Apuleius, Florilegium ii. 15, that Gillus, the Crotoniate (the Tarentine of that name mentioned in Herodotus iii. 138), liberated him from his Persian imprisonment. According to Iamblichus 33, 36, 142, Pythagoras visited many other Italian and Sicilian towns besides Crotona, especially Sybaris. That he went first to Sybaris, and thence to Crotona, however (vide Röth, ii. a, 421), is nowhere stated. Röth deduces from the words of Apollonius, ap. Iamblichus 255, on which he puts an entirely wrong interpretation, and from Jul. Firmic. Astron. p. 9. (Crotonam et Sybarim exul incoluit), that after the destruction of Sybaris, Pythagoras betook himself to the estates which the Sybarites had given him; that, however, and everything else that he says about this country life, is pure imagination.

|338| his endeavours, and the school he established was until its dispersion so exclusively associated with lower Italy, that it is often described as the Italian school. 1
  But this portion of his life is still so much obscured by fabulous legends that it is hard to discover anything with a historical foundation in the mass of pure invention. If we may believe our informants, even the person of Pythagoras was surrounded with miraculous splendour. A favourite, and even a reputed son, of Apollo, 2 he is said to have been revered by his followers as a superior being, 3 and to have given proof of this his higher nature by prophecies and miracles of all kinds. 4

1 Aristotle Metaphysics i. 5, 987 a, 9. c. 6, sub. init.; c. 7, 988 a, 25; De Caelo, ii. 13, 293 a, 20; Meteorologica i. 6, 342 b, 30; cf. Sextus, Adversos Mathematicos x. 284; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2 Ps-Plutarch Placita i. 3, 24.
2 Porphyry 2, appeals in support of this to Apollonius, Iamblichus 5 sqq., to Epimenides, Eudoxus, and Xenocrates; but the first of these three names can only be introduced here through a mere blunder. For the well-known Cretan mentioned by Porphyry 29, and Iamblichus 134, 222, as a disciple of Pythagoras, and by others, vide p. 327, 1, as his teacher, can scarcely have been alive at the date of Pythagoras’s birth; the other two names must likewise be considered doubtful. Xenocrates (as I have already observed in Part ii. a, 875, third edition) may perhaps have mentioned the statement as a report, but he cannot himself have adopted it.
3 Porphyry 20; Iamblichus 30, 255. After Apollonius and Nicomachus; Diodor. Fragm. p. 554; Aristotle, ap. Iamblichus 31, 144, quotes as a Pythagorean classification: τοῦ λογικοῦ ζῴου τὸ μέν ἐστι θεὺς, τὸ δ᾽ ἄνθρωπος, τὸ δ᾽ οἷον Πυθαγόρας; and Aelian. ii. 26, attributes to him the often repeated statement (also in Diogenes L. viii. 11, and Porphyry 28) that Pythagoras was called the Hyperborean Apollo. Cf. the following note.
4 According to Aelian, loc. cit. cf. iv. 17, Aristotle had already related that Pythagoras had been simultaneously seen in Crotona and Metapontum, that he had a golden thigh, and had been spoken to by a river god. This statement, however, has such a suspicious sound, that one might be tempted to conjecture an error in the words, κἀκεῖνα δὲ προσεπιλέγει ὁ τοῦ Νικομάχου, with which Aelian introduces it, and to suppose that Nicomachus, the celebrated Neo-Pythagorean, and not Aristotle, was Aelian’s authority; had not Apollon. Mirabil. c. 6, likewise quoted the same thing from Aristotle. It cannot possibly have been Aristotle himself, however, who stated these things. He must have mentioned them merely as Pythagorean legends, and then himself have been taken by later writers as the authority for them. This, indeed, is possible, and therefore these statements can furnish no decisive proof of the spuriousness of the Aristotelian treatise, περὶ τῶν Πυθαγορείων, which they naturally recall to us. The same miracles are related by Plutarch, Numa, c. 8; Diogenes L. vii. 11; Porphyry 28 sqq.; Iamblichus 90 sqq.; 134, 140 sq. (the two latter after Nicomachus; cf. Rohde, Rhein-Museum xxvii. 44). According to Plutarch he showed his golden thigh to the assembly at Olympia; according to Porphyry and Iamblichus, to the Hyperborean priest of Apollo Abaris. For further particulars, vide Herodotus iv. 36 (cf. also Krische, De Societ. a Pyth. cond. 37), who refers the legends of Abaris, told by later writers, with some probability, to Heracleides Ponticus. Many other miracles, often of the most extravagant description, such as the taming of wild beasts by a word, foretelling of the future, and so forth, are to be found in Plutarch, loc. cit.; Apul. De Magia, 31; Porphyry 23 sq.; Iamblichus 36, 60 sqq., 142, who unfortunately, however, have not named the ‘trustworthy ancient writers’ to whom they owe their information; cf. also Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2, p. 10. It is clear from the statement of Porphyry, ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica x. 3, 4, that even in the fourth century there were stories current in proof of Pythagoras’s supernatural knowledge of the future. Andronis said to have spoken in his Τρίπους of the prophecies of Pythagoras, and especially of an earthquake which he foretold from the water of a stream three days before it happened. Theopompus then transferred these stories to Pherecydes. The verses of Empedocles, ap. Porphyry 30, and Iamblichus 67, relate things much less wonderful. They do not imply supernatural knowledge, for the ancients (according to Diogenes, viii. 54) were not agreed as to whether the verse referred to Pythagoras or to Parmenides. For the rest it is quite credible that during the lifetime of Pythagoras, and immediately after his death, rumour may have asserted much that was miraculous about him, as was subsequently the case with Empedocles.

|339| He alone among mortals understood the harmony of the spheres; 1 and Hermes, whose son he was in a prior state of existence, had allowed him to retain the remembrance of his whole past amidst the various phases |340| of his existence. 1a

1 Porphyry 30; Iamblichus 65; Simplicius in Aristotle De Caelo, 208, b, 48, 211 a, 16; Schol. in Aristotle 496 b, 1.
1a Diogenes L. viii. 4 sq. after Heracleides (Pont.); Porphyry 26, 45; Iamblichus 63; Horat. Carm. i. 28. 9; Ovid. Metam. xv.160; Lucian, Dial. Mort. 20, 8, et pass. Tertull. De. An. 28, 31. Aceording to A. Gellius, iv. 11, Clearchus and Dicaearchus, the disciples of Aristotle, asserted that Pythagoras maintained that he had formerly existed as Euphorbus, Pyrander and others; but the verses of Xenophanes, ap. Diogenes L. viii. 36, say nothing of any recollection of a previous state of existence. He is also said to have kept up constant intercourse with the soul of a friend who had died (Herm. in Joseph. Con. Ap. i. 22). Further particulars later on.

There is mention even of a descent into Hades. 2 His doctrines are said to have been imparted to him in the name of his divine protector by the mouth of the Delphic priestess Themistoclea. 3 It cannot, therefore, be wondered at that on his first appearance in Crotona 4 he attracted much

2 By Hieronymus, no doubt the Peripatetic, ap. Diogenes L. viii. 21, cf. 38; Hermippus, vide Diogenes L. viii. 41, in imitation of the story of Zalmoxis (Herodotus iv. 94), puts an insipid natural interpretation upon this legend, about which Tertullian, De An. c. 28, is unnecessarily angry. Its true origin is probably to be found in a work attributed to Pythagoras, called Κατάβασις εἰς ᾅδου, Cf. Diogenes L. 14; ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὸς ἐν τῇ γραφῇ φησι, δ᾽ ἑπτὰ (for which Rohde, Rhein-Museum xxvi. 558, appealing to Iamblichus Theologoumena arithmeticae p. 41, would substitute ἑκκαίδεκα) καὶ διακοσίων ἐτέων ἐξ ἀΐδεω παραγεγενῆσθαι ἐς ἀνθρώπους. ῤῖα. 4: τοῦτόν φησιν Ἡρακλείδης ὁ Ποντικὸς περὶ αὑτοῦ τάδε λέγειν, ὡς εἴη ποτὲ γεγονὼς Αἰθαλίδης, where the present λέγειν points to some writing; cf. what Rohde, loc. cit. further adduces. That writings of this kind were not strange to the Pythagoreans ig well known. The Orphic Katabasis is said to have been composed by the Pythagorean Cercops (Clement Stromata i. 888 A).
3 Aristox. ap. Diogenes L. viii. 8, 21; Porphyry 41. A statement so mythical, and so improbable in itself, gives us, however, no right to identify Pythagoreanism with the Delphic philosophy, as Curtius does, Griech. Geschich. 1, 427.
4 Dicaearchus, ap. Porphyry 18; cf. Justin. Hist. xx. 4; speaks of lectures, which, in the first instance, he delivered before the Council of Elders (τὸ τῶν γερόντων ἀρχεῖον), and then by command of the authorities before the youths, and finally the women. A lengthy and declamatory account of the contents of these lectures is given in Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 37-57, and a modernised paraphrase in Röth, ii. a, 425-450. I do not believe that this enlarged version is taken from Dicaearchus; partly because it seems too poor in content for this philosopher, and partly because Dicaearchus, according to Porphyry, makes Pythagoras appear first before the ruling council, and then’ before the youths; whereas in Iamblichus he is represented to have made his first appearance in the gymnasium, and then on the report of his lecture there, to have been commanded to speak before the council. It would seem that a later biographer of Pythagoras had added to the statements of Dicearchus; and it is probable that this was none other than Apollonius; since Iamblichus in his Vita Pythagorica 259 sq. adduces a narrative from him in a similar style, and (as Rohde, Rhein-Museum xxvii. 29, remarks) Apollonius, éhid. 264, expressly makes mention of the temple of the Muses, to the building of which, according to section 50, these discourses of Pythagoras had given occasion. Apollonius himself (as is proved by Rohde, loc. cit. 27 sq. from Iamblichus section 56; cf. Diogenes L. viii. 11; and Just. xx. 4, sub. fin.; cf. also Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 4) seems to have based his own account on an exposition of the Timeaeeus, and to have also made use of sayings reported by Aristoxenus and others; cf. Iamblichus section 37, 40, 47, with Diogenes L. viii. 22, 23; Stobaeus Florilegium 44, 21 (ii. 164, Mein.), section 55 with Stobaeus 74, 53.

|341| attention, 1 and soon acquired the highest renown throughout Italy. 2 Disciples, both men and women, 3 flocked to him, not only from the Greek colonies, but from the whole of Italy; 4 the most celebrated legislators of

1 Vide besides what has been already quoted, the legendary account of Nicomachus, ap. Porphyry 20, and Iamblichus 30; Diodor. Fragm. p. 904; Favorinus ap. Diogenes L. viii. 15; Valer. Max. viii. 15, ext. 1.
2 Cf. Alcidamas, ap. Aristotle Rhetoric ii. 23, 1398 b, 14: ᾿Ιταλιῶται Πυθαγόραν (ἐτίμησαν). Plutarch, Numa, c. 8, states, on the authority of Epicharmus, that Pythagoras was presented by the Romans with the right of citizenship; but he has been deceived by a forged writing, vide Welcker, Klein. Schriften, 1. 350. According to Plutarch, loc. cit., and Pliny, Historia Naturalis xxxiv. 6, 26, a pillar was subsequently, at the time of the Samnite war, erected to him in Rome as the wisest of the Greeks.
3 Porphyry 22: προς ῆλθον δ᾽ αὐτῷ, ὡς φησὶν Ἀριστόξενος, καὶ Λευκανοὶ καὶ Μεσσάπιοι καὶ Πευκέτιοι καὶ Ῥωμαῖοι. The same, without the appeal to Aristoxenus, is to be found in Diogenes L. viii. 14: Nic. ap. Porph, 19 sq.; Iamblichus 29 sq., 265 sqq. 127 (where mention is made of an Etruscan Pythagorean).
4 Cf. as to the Pythagorean women, Diogenes L. 41 sq.; Porphyry 19 sq.; Iamblichus 30, 54, 132, 267, end. As to the most celebrated of them, Theano, who is generally called the wife, but sometimes the daughter of Pythagoras, cf. Hermesianax, ap. Athen. xi. 599 a; Diogenes L. 42; Porphyry 19; Iamblichus 132, 146, 265; Clement Stromata i. 309; C. iv. 522 D; Plutarch Coniugalia praecepta 31, p. 142; Stobaeus Eclogae i. 802; Florilegium l. 74, 32, 58, 5d; Florilegium Monac. 268-270 (Stobaeus Florilegium Ed. Augustus Meineke (Leipzig, 1855–1864) iv. 289 sq.). As to the children of Pythagoras, Porphyry 4 (where there is a statement of Timeus of Tauromenium about his daughter, repeated in Hieronymus Adversus Jovinianum i. 42); Diogenes L. 42 sq.; Iamblichus 146; Scholium in Plato p. 420, Bekker. As to his household economy, Iamblichus 170.

|342| these countries 1 owned him for their teacher, and by his influence, order, freedom, civilisation, and law were re-established in Crotona and all Magna Graecia. 2 Even the Druids of Gaul are called his disciples by later writers. 3 The Pythagorean school is represented to us not merely as a scientific association, but also, and principally, as a religious and political society. Entrance into it was only to be obtained by a strict probation, and on condition of several years’ silence. 4 The members recognised each other by secret signs; 5

1 Especially Zaleucus and Charondas, of which this is asserted by Seneca, Epist. 90, 6, and also by Posidonius; similarly Diogenes L. viii. 16 (whether this is taken from Aristoxenus cannot be ascertained); Porphyry 21; Iamblichus 33, 104, 180, 172 (both probably follow Nicomachus): cf. Aelian, Varia Historia i. 17; Zaleucus is also mentioned in this connection ap. Diodorum, xii. 20. Now Zaleucus was certainly a hundred years earlier than Pythagoras, and so probably was Charondas (cf. Hermann, Griech. Antiquit. i. section 89); if, on the other hand, we recognise this Charondas (vide Diodorus, xii. 11; Schol. in Plat. p. 419), as the lawgiver of Thurii (445 BC),he would be much too young for a personal disciple of Pythagoras. The appearance of such statements, therefore, inthe above-mentioned writers, is a fresh proof how little real historical foundation exists, even for ancient and widely spread accounts of Pythagoras. Some other Pythagorean lawgivers are named in Iamblichus 130, 172. The story of Numa’s relations with Pythagoras is discussed in vol. iii. b, 692, second edition.
2 Diogenes L. viii. 3; Porphyry 21 sq., 54; Iamblichus 33, 50, 182, 214; Cicero Tusculan Disputations v. 4, 10; Diodor. Fragm. p. 554; Justin. xx. 4; Dio Chrysost. Or. 49, p. 249 R.; Plutarch C. Princ. Philos. i. 11, p. 776; cf. the supposed conversation οf Pythagoras with Phalaris; Iamblichus 215 sqq.
3 Vide supra, p. 73, 1; cf. p. 330.
4 Taurus, ap. Gell. i. 9; Diogenes L. viii. 10; Apul. Flori. i. 15; Clement Stromata vi. 580, A; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2, p. 8, 14; Iamblichus 71 sqq. 94; cf. 21 sqq.; Philop. De An. D, 5; Lucian, Vit. Auct. 3. The tests themselves, among which that of physiognomy is mentioned (Hippolytus called Pythagoras the discoverer of physiognomy), and the duration of the silent noviciate, is variously given. The countenance of the teachers was hidden from the novices by a curtain, as in the mysteries. Cf. Diogenes L. 15.
5 Iamblichus 238. The Pentagon is said to have been such a sign (Schol. in Aristoph.; Clouds, 611, i, 249, Dind.; Lucian, De Salut. c. 5). Krische, p. 14, thinks the gnomon also.

|343| only a certain number of them were admitted into the inner circle and initiated into the esoteric doctrines of the school: 1 persons not belonging to the society were kept at a distance, 2 unworthy members were excluded with contumely. 3According to later accounts, the Pythagoreans of the higher grade had all their goods in common, 4 in obedience to a minutely

1 Gellius, loc. cit., names three classes of Pythagorean disciples: ἀκουστικοὶ or novices; μαθηματικοὶ, φυσικοί; Clement Stromata v. 575 D; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2, p. 8, 14; Porphyry 37; Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 72, 80 sqq.; 87 sq.; and Villoison’s Anecd. ii. 216—two, the Esoterics and Exoterics; the former were also called Mathematicians, and the latter Acousmaticians; according to Hippolytus and Iamblichus, the Esoterics were called Pythagoreans, and the exoterics Pythagorists. The unknown writer, ap. Photius Cod. {Codex} 249, distinguishes Sebasti, Politici, and Mathematici; also Pythagorici, Pythagoreans, and Pythagorists; calling the personal scholars of Pythagoras, Pythagorici; the scholars of these, Pythagoreans; and the ἄλλως ἔξωθεν (ζηλωταὶ, Pythagorists. On these statements (the recent date of which he does not consider) Röth (ii. a, 455 sq.; 756 sq.; 823 sqq.; 966 b, 104) grounds the following assertion. The members of the inner Pythagorean school (he says) were called Pythagorics, and those of the outer circle Pythagoreans; there was an important distinction between their doctrines, all the systems of the Pythagoreans being tounded on the Zoroastrian dualism, which (according to p. 421 sq., it was imported into Crotona by the physician Democedes) is not to be found in the conceptions of Pythagoras, which are genuinely Egyptian. These were the Pythagoreans, and these alone (to them belonged Empedocles, Philolaus and Archytas, and Plato and his followers were allied to them), to whom the accounts of Aristotle have reference, and who were generally recognised by the ancients before the period of the Ptolemies. Now all the authors who mention such a distinction call the exoterics Pythagorists, and the esoterics, the true disciples of Pythagoras, Pythagoreans; and the anonymous writer in Photius applies this name only to the second generation. But Röth finds away out of this difficulty. We have only to correct the anonymous writer to the extent of understanding Acousmaticians under Pythagoreans; and in respect to Iamblichus to substitute ‘Pythagorici for Pythagoreans, and Pythagoreans for Pythagorists (Röth has overlooked the passage in Hippolytus), and all will be right.’ On these arbitrary conjectures a theory is built up, which is entirely to overturn, not only the hitherto accepted theory of Pythagoreanism, but the testimony of Philolaus, Plato, Aristotle, etc.
2 Apollon. ap. Iamblichus 257.
3 Iamblichus 73 sq., 246; Clement, Stromata v. 574, D.
4 The oldest authorities for this are Epicurus (or Diocles) ap. Diogenes L. x. 11; and Timaeus of Tauromenium, ibid. viii. 10; Schol. in Plat., Phaedr. b. 319, Bekk. Subsequently, after the appearance of the Neo-Pythagoreans, who must have taken their notions chiefly from the ideal Platonic state, the statement is universal; vide Diogenes L. viii. 10; Gell. loc. cit.; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2, p. 12; Porphyry 20; Iamblichus 30, 72, 168, 257, etc. Phot. Lea. κοινὰ, makes Pythagogoras introduce community of goods among the inhabitants of Magna Graecia, and cites Timaeus as an authority.

|344| prescribed rule of life reverenced among them as a divine ordinance. 1 This also enjoined linen clothing, 2 and entire abstinence from bloody offerings and animal food, 3 from beans and some other kinds of nourishment; 4 even celibacy is said to have been imposed

1 Porphyry 20, 32 sqq.; following Nicomachus and Diogenes, the author of the book of prodigies; Iamblichus 68 sq., 96 sqq., 165, 256. The latter gives a detailed description of their whole daily life.
2 Iamblichus 100, 149; both as it would seem (Rohde, Rhein-Museum xxvii. 35 sq., 47) originally from Nicomachus, section 100, indirectly from Aristoxenus, who, however, was only speaking of the Pythagoreans of his own time; Apuleius, De Magia, c. 56; Philostr. Apollon. i. 32, 2, who adds to the prescripts of linen clothing a prohibition to cut the hair. Others speak only of white garments, eg. Aelian, Varia Historia xii, 32.
3 First attributed to Pythagoras himself by Eudoxus, ap. Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 7, and Onesicritus (about 320 BC), Strabo, xv. i. 65, p. 716 Cas.; and to the Pythagoreans generally by the poets of the Alexandrian period, ap. Diogenes L. viii. 37 sq.; Athen. iii. 108 sq.; iv. 161 a, sqq., 163 d. Later on, the statement became almost universal; vide Cicero De Natura Deorum iii. 36, 88; Rep. iii. 8; Strabo, vii. 1, 5, p. 298; Diogenes L. vii. 18, 20, 22; Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 7; De Abstin. i. 15, 23; Iamblichus 54, 68, 107 sqq., 150; Plutarch De Esu Carn. sub init.; Philostr. loc. cit.; Sextus Empiricus Adversos Mathematicos ix. 12, 7 sq., and many others.
4 Heracleides (no doubt of Pontus) and Diogenes, ap. Joh. Lyd. De Mens. iv. 29, p. 76; Callimachus, ap. Gell. iv. 11; Diogenes L. viii. 19, 24, 58, following Alexander, Polyhistor and others; Cicero Divin. i. 80, 62; Plutarch Quaestiones Convivales viii. 8, 2; Clement. Stromata iii. 485, b: Porphyry 43 sqq.; Iamblichus 109; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2, p. 12; Lucian, V. Auct. 6, etc. According to Hermippus and others, ap. Diogenes L. 39 sq., Pythagoras was slain in his flight, because he would not escape over a bean field. Neanthes (ap. Iamblichus 189 sqq.) relates the same of Pythagoreans in the time of Dionysius the elder. He also tells a further legend, to be noticed infra, as to the pertinacity with which the reason of the bean prohibition was kept secret. This last with a little alteration is transferred to Theano, by David, Schol. in Aristotle 14 a, 30. Pythagoras is also said to have prohibited wine (Iamblichus 107, 69, and Epiph. Haer. p. 1087 B). The prohibition of beans is discussed at length by Bayle, Art. Pythag. Rem. H.

|345| upon them. 1 Older writers, indeed, who are more to be trusted, say nothing of the community of goods, 2 though they extol the loyalty of the Pythagoreans towards friends and co-associates. 3 The precepts as to food and clothing (over and above the general principle of moderation and simplicity 4) are reduced by these writers to a few isolated ordinances 5 in connection with

1 Ap. Clement Stromata iii. 435 c (Clement himself contradicts it); cf. Diogenes L. 19: οὔποτ᾽ ἐγνώσθη (Pyth.) οὔτε διαχωρῶν οὔτε ἀφροδισιάζων οὔτε μεθυσθείς.
2 Vide supra, 848, 4, and Krische, p. 27 sq., who rightly finds a reason for this statement in a misunderstanding of the proverb κοινὰ τὰ τῶν φίλων, which was probably not peculiar to the Pythagoreans (cf. Aristotle, Eth. N. ix. 8, 1168 b, 6). It is, however, also ascribed to Pythagoras by Timaeus, ap. Diogenes L. 10; Cicero Leg. i. 12, 34, and Ant. Diogenes L. ap. Porphyry 33.
3 Cf. the well-known story of Damon and Phintias, Cicero Off. iiὶ. 10, 45; Diodor. Fragm. p. 554; Porphyry 59; Iamblichus 233 sq. after Aristoxenus, to whom Dionysius himself told the story, and others. Also other anecdotes, ap. Diodor. loc. cit.; Iamblichus 127 sq., 185, 237 sqq., and the more general statements in Cicero Off. i. 17, 56; Diod. loc. cit.; Porphyry 33, 59; Iamblichus 229 sq.; also Krische, p. 40 sq. These stories, however, for the most part presuppose the existence of private property among the Pythagoreans.
4 Aristoxenus and Lyco, ap. Athen. 11. 46 sq.; x. 418 e; Porphyry 33 sq.; Iamblichus 97 sq.; Diogenes L. viii. 19.
5 Aristoxenus, ap. Athen. x. 418 sq.; Diogenes L. viii. 20; Gell. iv. 11, expressly denies that Pythagoras abstained from meat; he only refused the flesh of ploughing oxen and bucks (the former probably on account of their utility, and the latter on account of their lustfulness). Plutarch (Gell. loc. cit.; cf. Diogenes L. viii. 19) quotes the same statement from Aristotle. According to him, the Pythagoreans merely abstained from particular parts of animals and from certain fishes (so that ap. Diogenes L. viii. 18, only the remark about the unbloody altar, and not the story about Pythagoras, can have been taken from Aristotle). Plutarch, Quaestiones Convivales vii. 8, 1, 3, and Athen. vii. 308 c, say that the Pythagoreans eat no fish and very little meat, chiefly the flesh of offerings; similarly Alexander, ap. Diogenes L. viii. 338, speaking of many prohibitions of food (often without historical foundation) does not mention abstinence from flesh. Even Ant. Diogenes L. (ap. Porphyry 34, 36) and Iamblichus 98 (in an account which no doubt is indirectly taken from Aristoxenus) are agreed on this point with these writers, though differing from them on many others, and Plutarch Numa, 8, says of the Pythagorean offerings |346| that they were, for the most part, bloodless. On the other hand, Theophrastus must have ascribed to the Pythagoreans the abstention from flesh, which is asserted of the Orphic Pythagorean mysteries of his time (cf. Pt. ii. a, 29, 1, 3rd ed.; Pt. iii. b, 65 sq. 2nd ed.), if all that we read in Porphyry De Abstin. ii. 28, is taken from him. Bernays, however (Theoph. v. d. Fromm. p. 88), thinks, probably with justice, that the sentences which treat of the Pythagoreans, δι᾽ ὅπερ… παρανομίας, are added by Porphyry. But, even according to this representation, they, at least, tasted the flesh of offerings, so that they must have had animal sacrifices. The sacrifice of a bull is ascribed to Pythagoras on the oceasion of the discovery of the Pythagorean principle, and other mathematical discoveries (Apollodor. ap. Athenaeum, x. 418 sq., and Diogenes L. viii. 12; Cicero De Natura Deorum iii. 36, 88; Plutarch Quaestiones Convivales viii. 2, 4, 3; N. P. Suav. v. 11. 4, p. 1094; Proclus in. Eucl. 110 a, 426 Frag. Porphyry. Vita Pythagorae 36, infers from this the sacrifice of a σταίτινος Bots), and he is also said to have introduced meat diet among the athletes: vide infra. In regard to beans, Aristoxenus (ap. Gellius, loc. cit.) maintains that Pythagoras, far from prohibiting them, particularly recommended his vegetable. It is, therefore, probable, that Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2. p. 12, and Porphyry 43 sqq., derived their absurd account (mentioned also by Lucian, Vit. Auct. 6) of the prohibition of beans, not from Aristoxenus, but from Antonius Diogenes, from whom Joh. Lydus, De Mens. iv. 29, p. 76, quotes it in the same words as Porphyry; and though the contradiction of Aristoxenus itself presupposes that such a prohibition was even at that period attributed to Pythagoras, it nevertheless shows that it was not acknowledged by those Pythagoreans whose tradition he followed. Gell. loc. cit. explains the story of the beans as a misunderstanding of a symbolical expression; the most probable explanation is that a custom, which really belonged to the Orphics, was transferred to the ancient Pythagoreans; cf. Krische, p. 35. The statement that the Pythagoreans wore only linen clothes is contradicted by the account in Diogenes L. viii. 19 (cf. Krische, p. 31), where he excuses them clumsily enough for wearing woolen garments, by asserting that linen at that time was unknown in Italy. According to Herodotus ii. 81, the whole matter is reduced to this: that in the Orphic Pythagorean mysteries the dead were forbidden to be buried in woolen clothes.

|346| particular forms of worship; 1 whether these ordinances originated with the Italian Pythagoreans, or only belong

1 As Alexander (Diogenes L. viii. 33) expressly says: ἀπέχεσθαι βρωτῶν θνησειδίων τε κρεῶν καὶ τριχλῶν καὶ μελανούρων καὶ φῶν καὶ τῶν φοτόκων ζῴων καὶ κνάμων καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ὧν παρακελεύονται καὶ οἱ τὰς τελετὰς ἐν τοῖς ἱεροῖς ἐπιτελοῦντες, cf. Plutarch Quaestiones Convivales viii. 8, 3, 15. That the Pythagoreans had peculiar religious services and rites, and that these formed the external bond of their society, must be presupposed from Herodotus ii. 81. Plato also (Rep. x. 600 B) speaks of a πυθαγόρειος τρόπος τοῦ βίου, by which the disciples of Plato were distinguished from others. Such a distinctive peculiarity in their mode of life would, in itself, lead us to conjecture something of a religious character; and this appears still more clearly from such historical accounts as we possess of the practical life of the Pythagoreans, and from what may be accepted as genuine of the ceremonial prescripts in Diogenes L. 10, 33 sqq.; Iamblichus 163 sq., 256; also from the early connection of Pythagoreanism with the Bacchic Orphic mysteries, the evidence for which is to be found partly in the above references, and partly in the forgery of Orphic writings by Pythagoreans (Clemen. Stromata i. 333 A; Lobeck, Aglaoph. 347 sqq.; cf. Ritter, 1. 363, 293).

|347| to the later Orphics of Pythagorean tendencies; whether, consequently, they arose from Pythagoreanism or from the Orphic mysteries, we do not certainly know. The celibacy of the Pythagoreans is so entirely unrecognised even by later writers that they represent Pythagoras as married, 1 and cite from him and from his school numerous precepts concerning conjugal life (vide infra). Among the sciences, besides philosophy proper, the Pythagoreans chiefly cultivated mathematics, which owes to them its first fruitful development.2

1 Vide supra, p. 341, 4, and Musonius, ap. Stobaeus Florilegium 67, 20; cf. Diogenes L. 21.
2 It is scarcely necessary to quote evidence for this, as Aristotle Metaphysics i. 5. sub init. (οἱ καλούμενοι Πυθαγόρειοι τῶν μαθημάτων ἁψάμενοι πρῶτοι ταῦτα προήγαγον καὶ ἐντραφέντες ἐν αὐτοῖς τὰς τούτων ἀρχὰς τῶν ὄντων ἀρχὰς φήθησαν εἶναι πάντων), since it is sufficiently proved by the whole character of the Pythagorean doctrine, and by the names of Philolaus and Archytas. Even at a later period Magna Grecia and Sicily continued to be the principal seat of mathematical and astronomical studies. Considerable knowledge and discoveries in mathematics and astronomy were ascribed to Pythagoras himself; cf. Aristox. ap. Stobaeus Eclogae i. 16, and Diogenes L. viii. 12; Hermesianax and Apollodor. ap. Athen. xiii. 599 a, x, 418 sq., and Diogenes L. i. 25; viii. 12; Cicero De Natura Deorum iii 36. 88; Plin. Historia Naturalis ii. 8, 37; Diogenes L. viii. 11, 14; Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 36 Plutarch Qu. Conv: νiii. 2. 4, 3. N. P. Sua. Vivi. ii 4, p. 1094; Placita ii. 12; Proclus in Eucl. 19 m (where, instead of ἀλόγων, we should doubtless read ἀναλύγῶν), 110, 111 (65, 426, 428 Frag.): Stobaeus Eclogae i. 502; Lucian, Vit. Auct. 2: τίδὲ μάλιστα οἶδεν; ἀριθμητικὴν, ἀστρονομίαν, τερατείαν, γεωμετρίαν, μουσικὴν, γοητείαν, μάντιν ἄκρον βλέπεις. Although Pythagoras unquestionably gave the impulse to the fruitful development of mathematics in his school, it is impossible, from the fragmentary and wholly untrustworthy statements about him, to form any conception of his mathematical knowledge at all approximating to historical certainty. Even the state of mathematical science in the Pythagorean school, at the time of Philolaus and Archytas, could only be described by one accurately acquainted with ancient mathematics, and by such a one only with the greatest caution and reserve. We shall confine ourselves here to what concerns the general principles of the number-theory and harmony, or the conceptions of the system of the universe. Röth (ii. a 962 b, 314) quotes with essential omissions and alterations a passage from Varro, L. lat. ν. 6, to prove that Pythagoras made a map in Tarentum, of which Varro says not a word. He is there speaking of a bronze image of Europa on the bull which Pythagoras (Pythagoras of Rhegium, the well-known sculptor of the beginning of the fifth century) made at Tarentum. Marc Capella, De Nupt. Philol. vi. 5, p. 197, Grot., attributes to Pythagoras the determination of the terrestrial zones, and not a map.

By applying |348| mathematics to music they became the founders of the scientific theory of sound, which enters so deeply into their system. 1 The practical importance of music, however, was quite as great among them; it was cultivated partly as a means of moral education, partly in connection with the art of medicine; 2 for this, too, 3

1 According to Nicomachus, Harm. i. 10; Diogenes L. viii. 12; Iamblichus 115 sqq. and others (vide infra). Pythagoras himself invented harmony. What is more certain is, that it was first developed in his school, as is shown by the name and the theories of Philolaus and Archytas, on which more hereafter. Plato says in Rep. vii. 530 D, that the Pythagoreans regarded Harmony and Astronomy as two sister sciences.
2 Vide Porphyry 32; Iamblichus 33, 64, 110 sqq., 163, 195, 224; Strabo, i. 2, 3, p. 16; x. 3, 10, p. 468; Plutarch Is. et Os. c. 80, p. 384; Virt. Mor. c. 3, p. 441; Cicero Tusculan Disputations iv. 2; Sen. De ira. iii. 9; Quintil. Instit. i. 10, 32; ix. 4, 12; Censorinus De Die Natali 12; Athan, Varia Historia xiv. 23; Sextus Empiricus Adversos Mathematicos vi. 8; Chamäleo, ap. Athen. xiii. 623 (on Clinias). These accounts, no doubt, contain much that is fabulous, but their historical foundation is beyond question. The Harmony of the Pythagoreans presupposes a diligent study of music. The moral application of this art corresponds to the character of the Doric life and of the cultus of Apollo; and we elsewhere find that that cultus was connected with music as a medicinal cure. In accordance with this the Pythagorean music is represented as grave and quiet, and the lyre as their chief instrument. Athen. iv. 184 e, however, enumerates a whole series of Pythagorean flute-players.
3 Diogenes L. viii. 12; Porphyry 33; Iamblichus 110, 163. Apollon. ap. Iamblichus 264. Celsus, De Medic. i. Praef. names Pythagoras among the most celebrated physicians. Cf. what is said further on about Alcmaeon’s connection with the Pythagoreans.

|349| as well as gymnastic, 1 flourished among the Pythagoreans. As might be expected, after the proof of supernatural wisdom related in the myth of the Samian philosopher (vide supra), Pythagoras and his school are said to have applied themselves to prophecy. 2 As a help to morality, we are told that strict daily self-examination was, among other things, 3 especially enjoined on the members of the society. 4 Since, however, at that period, ethics were inseparable from polities, we are also told that the Pythagoreans not only occupied themselves zealously with politics 5 and exercised the greatest influence on the legislation and administration of the cities of Magna Graecia, 6 but also that they constituted in Crotona and other Italian towns a regular political confederation, 7 which, by its influence upon the deliberative assemblies 8 of these towns, really held the |350| reins of government,

1 Cf. Iamblichus 97; Strabo, vi. 1, Diodor. loc. cit.; Diogenes L. viii. 22: 12, p. 268; Justin. xx. 4; also Diodor. Fragm. p. 654. Milo, the celebrated athlete, is well known to have been a Pythagorean. The statement (Diogenes L. 12 sq., 47; Porphyry Vita Pythagorae 15; De Abs. i. 26; Iamblichus 25) that Pythagoras introduced meat diet among the athletes, which is, however, scarcely historical, seems to refer to Pythagoras the philosopher.
2 Cicero Divin. i. 3, 5; ii. 58, 119; Diogenes L. 20, 32; Iamblichus 93, 106, 147, 149, 163; Clement Stromata most A; Plutarch Placita ν. 1; 3. Lucian (vide supra, p. 338, 4). Magical arts were likewise attributed to Pythagoras, Apul. De Magia, c. 27, p. 504.
3 Diodor. Fragm. p. 555.
4 Carm. Aur. v. 40 sqq., and after this source, Cicero Cato, ii. 38; Porphyry 40; Iamblichus 164 sq., 256.
5 According to Iamblichus, 97, the hours after meals were devoted to polities, and Varro, vide Augustin. De Ord. ii. 20, maintains that Pythagoras only communicated his political doctrines to the ripest of his scholars.
6 Vide supra, p. 341,5; 342, 1, and Valer. Max. viii. 15, ext. I; ibid, b. 7, ext. 2.
7 Consisting, in Crotona, of 300 members; according to some accounts, of more.
8 In Crotona, these were designated by the name of οἱ χίλιοι (Iamblichus, Vita Pythagorica 45, 260, after Apollonius), which is so large a number for a senate, that it might lead us rather to suppose that the ruling portion of the citizens was intended. Diod. xii. 9, calls them σύγκλητος, Porphyry 18, τὸ τῶν γερόντων ἀρχεῖον. Both Diodorus and Iamblichus, however, speak of the δῆμος and ἐκκλησία. which, according to Iamblichus, 260, only had to resolve upon that which was brought before it by the χίλιοι.

|350| and employed their power to promote an aristocratic organisation of the ancient Doric type. 1 They no less rigorously maintained the doctrine of their master, and silenced all opposition with the famous dictum αὐτὸς ἔφα. 2 We are told, however, that

1 Iamblichus 249, after Aristoxenus, 254 sqq.; after Apollonius, Diogenes L. viii. 3; Justin. xx. 4. Polybius, ii. 39, menticns the Pythagorean συνέδρια in the cities of Magna Graecia. Plutarch C. Princ. Philos. i. 11, p. 777, speaks of the influence of Pythagoras on the leading Italiotes, and Porphyry 54 says the Italians handed over the direction of their states to the Pythagoreans. In the contest between Crotona and Sybaris, which ended in the destruction of the latter, it was, according to Diodorus, respect for Pythagoras which decided the Crotonians to refuse to deliver up the fugitive Sybarite nobles, and to undertake a war with their more powerful rival. It was Milo, the Pythagorean, who led his countrymen to the fatal battle on the Traës. Cicero, indeed <(i>De Orat. iii. 15, 56; cf. Tusculan Disputations ν. 28, 66), includes Pythagoras with Anaxagoras and Democritus among those who renounced political activity in order to live entirely for science; but this does not destroy the former evidence, since in the first place it is uncertain whence Cicero derived his information; and in the second, Pythagoras himself held no public office. Still less does it follow from Plato, Rep. x. 600 C, that the Pythagoreans abstained from political activity; though, according to this passage, their founder himself worked, not as a statesman, but by personal intercourse. The strictly aristocratic character of the Pythagorean politics appears from the charges against them in Iamblichus 260; Athen. v. 213 f (cf. Diogenes L. viii. 46; Tertullian Apologeticus c. 46), and from the whole persecution by Cylon. Chaignet’s theory (i. 54 sq.), however, that the government of Crotona was first changed by Pythagoras from a moderate democracy into an aristocracy is supported by no tradition; it is, on the contrary, contradicted by the passage in Strabo, viii. 7, 1. p. 384 (after Polybius, ii. 39, 5), where it is said of the Italians: μετὰ τὴν στάσιν τὴν πρὸς τοὺς Πυθαγορείους τὰ πλεῖστα τῶν νομιμῶν μετενέγκασθαι παρὰ τούτων (the Achaeans, who had a democratic constitution), which would not have been necessary if they had only required to re-establish their own democratic institutions; while, on the other hand (vide previous note), the ἐκκλησία decided many things, even under the Pythagorean administration.
2 Cicero Ν. D. i. 5, 10; Diogenes L. viii. 46; Clement, Stromata ii. 369 C; Philo. Qu. in Gen. i. 99, p. 70.

|351| this doctrine was carefully kept within the limits of the school, and that every transgression of these limits was severely punished. 1 In order that the doctrine might be quite incomprehensible to the uninitiated, the Pythagoreans, and in the first instance the founder of the school, are said to have employed that symbolical mode of expression in which are contained most of the maxims handed down to us as Pythagorean. 2

1 Aristoxenus, Diogenes L. vii. 15, says 1t was a principle of the Pythagoreans, μὴ εἶναι πρὸς πάντας πάντα ῥητά, and, according to Iamblichus 31, Aristotle reckons the saying about Pythagoras, quoted p. 338, 8, among the πάνυ ἀπόῤῥητα of the school. Later writers (as Plutarch Numa, 22; Aristocles, ap. Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica xi. 3,1; the Pseudo-Lysis, ap. Iamblichus 75 sqq., and Diogenes L. viii. 42; Clement Stromata v. 574 D; Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 199, 226 sq., 246 sq.; π. κοιν. μαθ. ἐπιστ; Villoison, Anecd. ii. p. 216; Porphyry 58; an anonymous person, ap. Menage, Diogenes L. viii.; cf. Plato, Ep. ii. 314 A) dilate much on the strictness and fidelity with which the Pythagoreans kept even geometrical and other purely scientific theorems as secrets of their fraternity, and on the abhorrence and punishment of the gods which overtook every betrayal of this mystery. The first proof in support of this opinion is the assertion (sup. p. 315) of Neanthes about Empedocles and Philolaus, and in the legendary narrative of the same author, as also of Hippobotus, ap. Iamblichus 189 sqq. (considerably more recent, cf. Diogenes L. viii. 72), according to which Myllias and Timycha suffer to the uttermost, the latter even biting out his own tongue, like Zeno in Elea, in order not to reveal to the elder Dionysius the reason of Pythagoras’s prohibition of beans. On the other hand, it is a question whether the statement of Timaeus, in Diogenes L. viii. 54, on which that of Neanthes is unquestionably founded, that Empedocles, and afterwards Plato, were excluded from Pythagorean teaching, being accused of λόγοκλοπια—really refers to the publishing of a secret doctrine, and not to the proclaiming improperly of Pythagorean doctrines as their own. Moreover, we cannot give much credit to the testimony of an author, who, in spite of all chronology, makes Empedocles loc. cit.) the personal pupil of Pythagoras.
2 Iamblich. 104 sq., 226 sq. Collections and interpretations of Pythagorean symbols are mentioned by Aristoxenus in the πυθαγορικαὶ ἀποφάσεις, and by Alexander Polyhistor and Anaximander the younger, ap. Clement Stromata i. 304, B. Cyrill. c. Jul. iv. 183 D; Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 101, 145; Theologoumena arithmeticae p. 41; Suidas, Anaximandros (cf. Krische, p. 74 sq.; Mahne, De Aristoxeno, 94 sqq.; Brandis, i. 498); another work, said to be of ancient Pythagorean origin, bearing the name of Androcydes, is discussed, part iii. b, 88, second edition. Aristotle’s work on the Pythagoreans seems to have given many of these symbols (vide Porphyry 41; Hieron. c. Ruf. iii. 39, T. ii. 565, Vall.; Diogenes L. viii. 34), and various authors (as Demetrius of Byzantium mentioned by Athen. x, 452 c) have spoken of them incidentally. From these ancient compilations probably came the greater part of the sentences ascribed to Pythagoras and the Pythagoreans by later writers, as Plutarch (especially in the συμποσιακαὶ, Stobaeus, Athenaeus, Diogenes, Porphyry, and Iamblichus, Hippolytus, etc. These sentences, however, cannot be much relied upon as representing the Ethics and religious doctrine of the Pythagoreans; for in the first place their meaning is very uncertain, and in the second, what is genuinely Pythagorean is hard to distinguish from later ingredients. In regard to the Pythagorean Philosophy, they are of little importance. Collections of these sentences are to be found in Orelli, Opusc. Graec. Vet. Sent. i, 60 sq.; Mullach, Fragm. Philos. i. 504 sqq.; Göttling, Ges. Abhand. i. 278 sq., 11. 280 sq., has subjected them to a thorough criticism. But his interpretations are often tao artificial, and he is apt to seek unnecessarily for hidden meanings in prescripts, which originally were of a purely ritualistic character. Cf. also Rohde, Rhein-Museum xxvi. 561.

  |352| How much of these statements may be accepted as historical it is difficult to determine in detail; we can only establish approximately certain general results. We see that so early as the time of Aristotle, Aristoxenus, and Dicaearchus, many miraculous tales respecting Pythagoras were in circulation; but whether he himself appeared in the character of a worker of miracles cannot be ascertained. The manner in which he is spoken of by Empedocles and Heracleitus 1 renders it probable that, for long after his death, he was merely esteemed as a man of unusual wisdom, without any supernatural character. This wisdom seems to have been chiefly of a religious kind, and to have served religious ends. Pythagoras appears as the founder of a religious association with its own rites and ceremonies; thus he may have passed for a seer and a priest, and may have declared himself as such: this is extremely likely from the whole character of the Pythagorean legend,

1 Vide supra, p. 336, 5; 338, 4.

|353| and from the existence of Pythagorean orgies in the fifth century; but that does not make him by any means the extraordinary phenomenon presupposed by the later tradition; he merely stands in the same category with Epimenides, Onomacritus, and other men of the sixth and seventh centuries. Further, it seems certain that the Pythagorean society distinguished itself above all other similar associations by its ethical tendency; but we can get no true idea of its ethical aims and institutions from the later untrustworthy authorities. Pythagoras doubtless entertained the design of founding a school of piety and morality, temperance, valour, order, obedience to government and law, fidelity to friends, and generally for the encouragement of all virtues belonging to the Greek, and particularly to the Doric conception of a good and brave man; virtues which are particularly insisted on in the sentences attributed with more or less probability to Pythagoras. For this purpose he appealed first to the religious motives which resulted from the belief in the dominion of the gods, and especially from the doctrine of transmigration; then he had recourse to the educational methods and usages of his native country, such as music and gymnastics. We are assured by the most trustworthy traditions that these two arts were zealously practised in the Pythagorean school. With these may have been also connected (vide supra) the use of certain therapeutic and secret remedies. Incantation, song, and religious music probably played the part attributed to them in the myths; this is rendered probable by the whole character of the art of medicine in ancient times, |354| closely allied as it was with religion, sorcery and music; while, on the other hand, the statement that the Pythagorean art of medicine consisted mainly of dietetics 1 is confirmed, not merely by its connection with gymnastic and by the whole character of the Pythagorean mode of life, but also 2 by Plato’s similar view. 3 It is probable too, that the Pythagoreans adopted the practice in their society of common meals, either daily or at certain times; 4 but what later authors have said about their community of goods is certainly fabulous; and the peculiarities ascribed to them concerning dress, food, and other habits of life must be reduced to a few traits of little importance. 5 Furthermore, although the political character of the Pythagorean society is undeniable, yet the assertion 6 that its entire design was of a purely political kind, and that every other end was subordinated to this, goes far beyond any proofs deducible from history, and is neither compatible with the physical and mathematical bent of the Pythagorean science, nor with

1 Iamblichus 163, 264.
2 Rep. iii. 405 b sqq.; Tim. 88 C sqq.
3 Cf. on the medical art of the Pythagoreans and their contemporaries, Krische, De Societ. a Pyth. Cond. 40; Forschungen, etc. 72 sqq.
4 As Krische supposes, De Societ. etc. 86, relying on the mutilated passage of Satyrus, ap. Diogenes L. viii. 40; cf. Iamblichus 249; vide the writers quoted, p. 343, 4, who throughout presuppose community of goods.
5 Cf. p. 344 sqq.
6 Krische, loc. cit., p. 101, concludes thus: Societatis (Pythagoricae) scopus fuit mere politicus, ut lapsam optimatium potestatem non modo in pristinum restitueret, sed firmaret amplificaretque; cum summo hoc scopo duo conjuncti fuerunt, moralis alter, alter ad literas spectans. Discipulos suos bonos probosque homines reddere voluit Pythagoras et ut civitatem moderantes potestate sua non abuterentur ad plebem opprimendam, et ut plebs, intelligens suis commodis consuli, conditione sua contenta esset. Quoniam vero bonum sapiensque moderamen (non) nisi a prudenteliterisque exculto viro exspectari licet, philosophiae studium necessarium duxit Samius tis, qui ad civitatis clavum tenendum se accingerent.

|355| the fact that the most ancient authorities represent Pythagoras to us rather as a prophet, a wise man and a moral reformer, than as a statesman. (Vide supra, texts quoted pp. 336; 346, 1; 350, 1.) The alliance of Pythagoreanism with the Doric aristocracy seems to me the consequence and not the reason of its general tendency and view of life, and though the tradition which bids us recognise in the Pythagorean societies of Magna Graecia a political combination may in the main be worthy of credit, yet I find no proof that the religious, ethical, and scientific character of the Pythagoreans was developed from their political bias. The contrary seems, indeed, more probable. On the other hand, it is difficult to admit that scientific inquiry was the root of Pythagoreanism. For the moral, religious, and political character of the school cannot be explained by the theory of numbers and mathematics, in which, as we shall presently find, the distinguishing peculiarities of the Pythagorean science consisted. Pythagoreanism seems rather to have originated in the moral and religious element, which is most prominent in the oldest accounts of Pythagoras, and appears in the early Pythagorean orgies, to which also the sole doctrine which can with any certainty be ascribed to Pythagoras himself—the doctrine of transmigration—relates. Pythagoras desired to effect, chiefly by the aid of religion, a reform of the moral life; but as in Thales, the first physical speculation had connected itself with ethical reflection, so here practical ends were united with that form of scientific theory to which Pythagoras owes his place in the history of philosophy. Again, in their |356| religious rites alone must we seek for the much talked of mysteries of the Pythagorean Society. The division of esoteric and exoteric (if this indeed existed among the ancient Pythagoreans) was purely a religious distinction. It resulted from the traditional distinction between greater and lesser initiations, between complete and preparatory consecrations. 1 That philosophic doctrines or even mathematical propositions, apart from their possible religious symbolism, should have been held secret, is in the highest degree improbable; 2 Philolaus at any rate, and the other authorities from whom Plato and Aristotle derived their knowledge of Pythagoreanism, can have known nothing of any ordinance of this nature. 3

1 In regard to the later conception of the importance of this distinction, I cannot agree with Rohde (Rhein-Museum xxvi. 560 sq.) in explaining it from the supposed fact that after there appeared a Pythagorean philosophy the adherents of this philosophy regarded the original Pythagoreanism, which was limited to religious prescripts and observances, as merely a preparatory stage of the higher knowledge; this seems to me to be an invention of the Neo-Pythagoreans, who thus attempted to represent as the opinion of Pythagoras what they themselves had foisted upon him. and to explain away the entire silence of ancient tradition on the subject. It is only in their writings that these two classes of Pythagoreans are recognised; and it is they who, in the passages discussed p. 309, 2, declare the celebrated propositions of the Pythagoreans to be something exoteric, the true meaning of which can only be discovered by regarding them as symbols of deeper doctrines kept up as a mystery by the school, and lost from general tradition. That the true philosophy of the Pythagoreans should be represented as an occult doctrine, only imparted to a select minority even of the disciples, is quite in harmony with this tendency, which, indeed, is its most obvious explanation.
2 So also Ritter, Pyth. Phil. 52 sq. etc.
3 What Porphyry, 58, and Iamblichus, 253, 199, say in its defence, carries on the face of it the stamp of later invention. (Cf. Diogenes L. viii. 55 (supra, p. 315).

The political tendency of the Pythagorean community was fatal to its material existence and to a |357| great part of its members. The democratic movement in opposition to the traditional aristocratic institutions, which in time invaded most of the Greek States, declared itself with remarkable rapidity and energy in the populous and independent Italian colonies, inhabited by a mixed population, excited by ambitious leaders. The Pythagorean συνέδρια formed the centre of the aristocratic party: they therefore became the immediate object of a furious persecution which raged with the utmost violence throughout lower Italy. The meeting houses of the Pythagoreans were everywhere burnt; they themselves murdered or banished, and the aristocratic constitutions overthrown. This continued until at length, through the intervention of the Achaeans, an agreement was brought about by which the remainder of the exiles were allowed to return to their homes. 1 As to the date and more precise details of this persecution, accounts differ considerably. On the one hand, Pythagoras himself is stated to have been killed 2 in it;

1 So much we can gather from the detailed accounts presently to be noticed, and also from the statements of Polybius, ii. 32, who says (unfortunately only incidentally, and without any mention of date): καθ᾽ οῦς γὰρ καιροὺς ἐν τοῖς κατὰ τὴν Ἰταλίαν τόποις κατὰ τὴν μεγάλην Ἑλλάδα τότε προξαγορευομένην ἐνέπρησαν τὰ συνέδρια τῶν Πυθαγορείων, μετὰ ταῦτα δὲ γινομένου κινήματος ὁλοσχεροῦς περὶ τὰς πολιτείας, ὅπερ εἰκὸς, ὡς ἂν τῶν πρώτων ἀνδρῶν ἐξ ἑκάστης πόλεως οὕτω παραλόγως διαφθαρέντων, συνέβη τὰς κατ᾽ ἐκείνους τοὺς τόπους Ἑλληνικὰς πόλεις ἀναπλησθῆναι φόνου καὶ στάσεως καὶ παντοδαπῆς ταραχῆς. On this rests the assertion that the Achaeans united Crotona, Sybaris, and Caulonia in a league and convention, and thus introduced their constitution into those cities.
2 The various accounts are these: 1st, according to Plutarch Stoic. Rep. 37, 3, p. 1051; Athenag. Supplic. c. 31; Hippolytus Refutatio omnium haeresium, i. 2, sub fin.; Arnob, Adv. Gent. 1. 40; Schol. in Plat. p. 420, Bekk. and a passage in Tzetz. Chil. xi. 80 sqq., Pythagoras was burned alive by the Crotoniates. Hippolytus adds that Archippus, Lysis, and Zamolxis escaped from the |358| conflagration, and Plutarch’s words seem to admit the possibility that he only meant an attempt at burning. 2. Nearest to this comes the account of Diogenes L. viii. 39, that Pythagoras and his people were in the house of Milo when the enemy set fire to it; that he escaped indeed, but was intercepted in his flight, and killed; the greater number of his friends (forty of them) were also put to death: only a few, among whom were Archippus and Lysis, escaped. 3. According to Porphyry 57 and Tzetz. loc. cit., others think that Pythagoras himself escaped from the attack in Crotona to Metapontum, his disciples making a bridge through the fire for him with their bodies; and all, except Lysis and Archippus, being destroyed; that he there starved himself to death, being weary of life, as Porphyry says; or died of want, according to Tzetzes. 4. According to Dicaearchus, ap. Porphyry 56 sq., and Diogenes L. viii. 40, Pythagoras at the time of the attack on the forty Pythagoreans, was in the town, but not in the house; he fled to the Locrians, and thence to Tarentum, and was rejected by both. Proceeding to Metapontum, he there, after forty days’ starvation (ἀσιτήσαντα, says Diogenes; ἐν σπάνει τῶν ἀναγκαίων διαμείναντα, says Porphyry; hence, no doubt, Tzetzes’ theory), died. This view is followed by Themist. Orat. xxiii. p. 285 b; the account in Justin’s Hist. xx. 4, seems also to have arisen from it; here sixty Pythagoreans are said to have been destroyed, and the remainder banished. Dicaearchus also says that more than the forty were put to death. He, like most of the other authorities, seems to mention Cylon as the author of the persecution. As to the sojourn of Pythagoras in Tarentum, Röth, ii. a, 962, refers to Claudian, De Consul. Fl. Mall. Theodoret xvii. 157: At non Pythagore monitus annique silentes Famosum Ocebalit luxum pressere Tarenti; but these words apparently only attest the well-known fact that Tarentum was afterwards a chief centre of Pythagoreanism. Röth moreover makes out of Oebalium Tarentum a Tarentine of the name of Oebalius, whose luxurious life Pythagoras vainly attempted to regulate, which is even a greater discovery than that about the map of Europe, which the philosopher is said to have made in Tarentum (vide supra, p. 347, 2). 5. According to the mutually complementary accounts of Neanthes, ap. Porphyry 55; of Satyrus and Heracleides (Lembus), ap. Diogenes L. viii. 40; and of Nicomachus, ap. Iamblichus 251, Pythagoras at the time of Cylon’s attack was not in Crotona at all, but in Delos with Pherecydes, to tend in his illness and bury him; when on his return he found that his followers, with the exception of Archippus and Lysis, had been burned in Milo’s house or slain, he betook himself to Metapontum, where (according to Heracleides, ap. Diogenem) he starved himself to death. 6. According to the account of Aristoxenus (ap. Iamblichus 248 sqq.), Cylon, a tyrannical and ambitious man, being angry that Pythagoras had refused him admission into his society, commenced |359| a violent struggle with the philosopher and his followers during the last years of Pythagoras’s life. In consequence of this, Pythagoras himself emigrated to Metapontum, where he died; but the struggle continued, and after the Pythagoreans had maintained themselves for some time longer at the head of the states, they were at last attacked at Crotona during a political consultation in the house of Milo, and all, except the two Tarentines, Archippus and Lysis, were destroyed by fire. Archippus retired to his native city, and Lysis to Thebes; the rest of the Pythagoreans, with the exception of Archytas, abandoned Italy and lived together in Rhegium (which, however, is also in Italy), until the school, as the political conditions became worse and worse, gradually died out. (The confusion at the end of this account Rohde, Rhein-Museum xxvi. 565, explains by an inversion, which commends itself equally to me. The true meaning is that the Pythagoreans lived at first together in Rhegium, but when things became worse, they, with the exception of Archytas, left Italy.) This was the account which Diodorus, Fragm. p. 556, had before him, as appears from a comparison with Iamblichus 248, 250. Apollonius, Mirab. c. 6, makes Pythagoras fly to Metapontum before the attack which he foretold. In Cicero Fin. v. 2, we are told that the dwelling of Pythagoras and the place of his death were shown in Metapontum; in Valer. Max. viii. 7, ext. 2, that the whole city of Metapontum attended the funeral of the philosopher with the deepest reverence; in Aristid. Quint. De Mus. ii. 116 Meib. that Pythagoras before his death recommended the use of the monochord to his disciples. These accounts agree best with the present version, as they all presuppose that the philosopher was not personally threatened up to the time of his death, and when Plutarch Gen. Socr. 13, p. 583, speaks of the expulsion of the Pythagoreans from various cities, and of the burning of their house of assembly in Metapontum, on which occasion only Philolaus and Lysis were saved—though Metapontum is substituted for Crotona, and Philolaus for Archippus—the silence in regard to Pythagoras himself, and the placing of the whole persecution in the period after his death, are both in accordance with the statements of Aristoxenus. So Olympiodorus in Phaed. p. 8 sq. mentions the Pythagoreans only, and not Pythagoras, as having been burned; Philolaus and Hipparchus (Archippus) alone, he says, escaped. 7. The account of Apollonius, ap. Iamblichus 254 sqq., resembles that of Aristoxenus. According to this, the Pythagorean aristocracy very early excited dissatisfaction; after the destruction of Sybaris and the death of Pythagoras (not merely his departure: ἐπεὶ δὲ ἐτελεύτησεν, it is said, and in connection with ἐτελεύτησεν, the previous ἐπεδήμει and ἀπῆλθε are to be explained), this dissatisfaction was stirred up by Cylon and other members of noble families not belonging to the society, and on the partition of the conquered lands broke out into open hostility. The Pythagoreans were dispersed during one ef their assemblies, then defeated in combat, and after ruinous disturbances, the whole Pythagorean party was driven out of three neighbouring cities by the judges, who had been corrupted, and a distribution of lands and remission of debts was decreed. Not till after many years did the Achaeans accomplish the return of the exiles, of whom about sixty came back; but even these fell in an unfortunate encounter with the Thurians. 8. Lastly, Hermippus (ap. Diogenes L. viii. 40; cf. Schol. in Plat. loc. cit.), differing from all other accounts, says that Pythagoras was with his friends, fighting at the head of the Agrigentines against the Syracusans, and was killed in flight, while the remainder of the Pythagoreans, to the number of thirty-five, were burned in Tarentum.

and, on the other, it is said of certain |358| Pythagoreans of the fourth and fifth centuries that they had escaped from the persecution. Crotona is most |359| generally named as the place where the first decided attack was made, and Metapontum as the place where |360| Pythagoras died; but there are so many discrepancies as to details, that a complete reconciliation of the various statements is impossible. What is most probable is that the first public outbreak must have taken place after the death of Pythagoras, though an opposition to him and his friends may perhaps have arisen during his lifetime, and caused his migration to Metapontum. The party struggles with the Pythagoreans, thus begun, may have repeated themselves at different times 1 in the cities of Magna Grecia, and the variations in the statements may be partially accounted for as recollections of these different facts. The burning of the assembled Pythagoreans in Crotona and the general assault upon the Pythagorean party most likely did not take place until the middle of the fifth century; and, lastly, Pythagoras may have spent the last portion of his life unmolested in Metapontum. 2

1 As is now generally supposed, according to Böckh. Philol. 10.
2 The above suppositions are chiefly based on the following grounds: Firstly, by far the greater number, and the most creditable authorities, maintain that Pythagoras died in Metapontum (cf. Iamblichus 248); and even those who place the burning of the house in Crotona in his life-time, for the most part assert that he himself escaped. Although it is clear from the contradictoriness of these latter statements that no universally accepted tradition existed at the time, yet the fact itself that Pythagoras fled to Metapontum |360| must have been pretty firmly established, since the most improbable expedients were resorted to by the authors of these statements to reconcile it with their other theories. Other accounts say that he was put to death in Crotona or Sicily, but this is no doubt an instance of what so often happens in regard to Pythagoras—that facts about his school, or a portion of his school, are transferred to him personally. Secondly, the occasion of Pythagoras’s retreat to Metapontum could not have been the incendiary attack on the assembly at Crotona; the attack must have occurred many years after his death. Aristoxenus and Apollonius say this expressly. Aristoxenus, however, is the authority whom we should most expect to reproduce the Pythagorean tradition of his time. With what right Apollonius appeals in section 262 to τὰ τῶν Κροτωνιατῶν ὑπομνήματα, we do not know. If even any work that might be so designated were within his reach, the designation might apply to any Crotoniate writing whatsoever. Röth, however, thinks it manifestly implies ‘contemporary records,’ and he deduces from them, not only the somewhat unimportant point for which they were cited, but the whole narrative of Apollonius. Moreover, the different accounts assert with singular unanimity that only Archippus and Lysis escaped from the massacre; and as this is maintained even by those who place that event in the lifetime of Pythagoras, it must, at any rate, be based on an ancient and universal tradition. Now Lysis, at an advanced age, was the instructor of Epaminondas (Aristox. ap. Iamblichus 250; Diodor. loc. cit.; Neanthes, ap. Porphyry 55; Diogenes L. viii. 7; Plutarch Gen. Socr. 13; Dio Chrysos. Or. 49, p. 248; R. Corn. Nepos. Epam. c. 1), and the birth of Epaminondas cannot be supposed earlier than 418-420 BC; not only because he fought vigorously at Mantinea in 362, but also because Plutarch De Lat. Viv. 4, 5, p. 1129, names his fortieth year as the period at which he began to be important. and this period (according to Vit. Pelop. c. 5, end, c. 12; De Gen. Socr. 3, p. 576) could not have been before 378 BC, the deliverance of Thebes. Supposing Lysis to have been fifty years older than his pupil, we thus arrive at 468-470 BC as the earliest date of his birth, and the attack in Crotona could scarcely, even in that case, have occurred before 450 BC It is more probable, however, that the difference between the ages of Lysis and Epaminondas was not so great (according to Plutarch Gen. Socr. 8, 13, Lysis died shortly before the deliverance of Thebes), and that the Crotonian massacre must be placed about 440 BC, or even later. The statement of Aristoxenus about Archytas and that of Apollonius—that a portion of the Pythagoreans, who had been expelled from Crotona, returned after the reconciliation effected by the Achaeans—points to some such date. For although, according to Polyb. ii. 39, 7, the attacks of Dionysius the Elder (who came to the throne in 406) left the three Italian cities (Crotona, Sybaris, and Caulonia) no opportunity for the consolidation and maintenance of the new institutions borrowed from the Achaeans some time (μετά τινας χρόνους) after the adjustment of the Pythagorean troubles—yet the Achaean mediation could scarcely have occurred earlier than from ten to fifteen years previous to the end of the Peloponnesian war; but Polybius himself seems to assume that the troubles to which the burning of the Pythagorean houses gave the signal, were not very distant chronologically from the intervention of the Achaeans. It matters not that the Pythagorean assembly which was burned is universally placed in the house of Milo, and that the authors of the deed are also called by Aristoxenus Cylonians; for Milo’s house may have remained the meeting place of the Pythagoreans after the death of its owner, as Plato’s garden was that of the Academy; and ‘Cylonians’ seems, like Pythagoreans, to have been a party name, which survived the chief from whom it was derived; cf. Aristox. loc. cit, 249. Thirdly. It is nevertheless probable that before the death of Pythagoras, a party adverse to the Pythagoreans was formed by Cylonin Crotona, which party may have been strengthened mainly by the demand for a division of the conquered lands, and by the victorious conflict with the Sybarites; and that this disturbance may have determined Pythagoras to remove to Metapontum. This is admitted by Aristoxenus and Apollonius, though the former makes the burning of Milo’s house take place an indefinite time after the death of Pythagoras; and the latter, instead of the burning, relates another incident in the time of Cylon. Even Aristotle (ap. Diogenes L. ii. 446, cf. viii. 49) incidentally mentions Cylon’s enmity against Pythagoras, which had become proverbial. These earlier conflicts, however, cannot have occasioned the overthrow of the Pythagoreans in Lower Italy. This can only have happened (even according to Polybius) when the burning of the council house in Crotona gave the signal for similar acts in other places, and a universal storm broke out against the Pythagoreans. When, therefore, Aristoxenus says that the Pythagoreans kept the lead of public affairs in the cities of Magna Graecia for some time after the first attack upon them, there is every reason for crediting the statement. Fourthly. If the first popular movement against the Pythagoreans was confined to Crotona, and if they finally maintained themselves there, it is not probable that Pythagoras, contrary to the principles of his school, should have starved himself to death, or even have died of hunger. It rather seems as if, even in Aristotle’s time, tradition had been silent as to the particular circumstances of his death, and that the lacuna was subsequently filled by arbitrary conjectures; so that Aristoxenus is here most worthy of credit, when he restricts himself to the remark: κἀκεῖ λέγεται καταστρέψαι τὸν βίον. Chaignet i. 94, objects to the foregoing that if the Pythagoreans had been banished from Italy for seventy years, they would not have been called the Italian philosophers (vide supra, p. 338, 1). I know not with what eyes he can have read a discussion, which expressly attempts to show that the Pythagoreans were not expelled till 440, and returned before 406.

|361| It was only after the dispersion of the Italian associations, and in consequence of this dispersion that the |362| Pythagorean philosophy became more widely known in Greece, although the Pythagorean rites had previously |363| gained entrance there, 1 and certain individuals had turned their attention to the philosophic doctrines of the school. 2 At this period, at all events, we first hear of Pythagorean writings 3 and of Pythagoreans who lived elsewhere than in Italy. The first of these with whom we are acquainted, is Philolaus. 4 We know that he was a contemporary of Socrates and Democritus, and probably was older than either; that in the last decade of the fifth century he resided in Thebes, 5

1 Vide supra, p. 346, 1.
2 Vide the expression of Heracleitus, quoted p. 336, 5, and the assertions of Thrasyllus, Glaucus, and Apollodorus, ap. Diogenes L. ix. 38, according to which Democritus was acquainted with Philolaus, that he spoke with admiration of Pythagoras in a treatise called after him, and, in general, had made industrious use of the Pythagorean doctrines. Democritus, however, was certainly younger than Philolaus, and it is doubtful how far Heracleitus had knowledge of Pythagoras as a philosopher. His words seem rather to refer to the founder of the religious association. He charges Pythagoras with κακοτεχνιη; and the συγγραφαὶ, from which he is said to have gained his false wisdom, may either mean Orphic hymns, or the ancient mythological poems, of which Heracleitus generally speaks so slightingly; or, at any rate, the writings of Pherecydes and Anaximander. The passage concerning Pythagoras and his universal knowledge perhaps stood in the same connection as the polemic against the ancient poets.
3 Vide supra, p. 313.
4 For Archippus, who is represented in Hieron. 6. Ruf. iii. 469, Mart. (vol. ii. 565, Vall.) as teaching with Lysis in Thebes, was a somewhat younger contemporary of Lysis. The statement seems to have arisen from the two names being elsewhere mentioned tοgether; for all other authorities agree that Archippus returned to Tarentum after the conflagration in Crotona, and that Lysis went alone to Thebes. Vide the passages quoted supra, p. 357, 2.
5 Plato, Phaedo, 61 D; Diogenes L. loc. cit. Diog, viii. 84, names Crotona as the native city of Philolaus; all other authorities, Tarentum. Cf. Böckh, Philol. p. 5 sqq., where the erroneous statements that he escaped from the fire in Crotona (Plutarch Gen. Socr. 13, vide supra, p. 359); that he was the instructor of Plato (Diogenes L. iii. 6), and a personal pupil of Pythagoras (Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 104), with others of a similar kind, are refuted. According to Diogenes L. viii. 84, Philolaus was put to death in Crotona on suspicion of aiming at the Tyranny. He must, therefore, have returned to Italy, and become implicated in the final party conflicts with the Pythagoreans.

and that he |364| was the author of the first exposition of the Pythagorean system. 1 Lysis must also have come to Thebes about the same time as Philolaus, and probably resided there up to the second decade of the fourth century. 2 Plato 3 assigns Timaeus the Locrian to the same period, but it is not certain whether or not this Timaeus was a historical personage. Among the disciples of Philolaus is mentioned Eurytus, 4 of Tarentum or Crotona, who must also be supposed to have spent a part of his life out of Italy, since those of his pupils who are known to us came, one of them from Thrace, the others from Phlius. 5 These scholars of Eurytus are called by Aristoxenus

1 Cf. supra, pp. 313; 314, 2; and Böckh, Philol. p. 18 sqq., who rightly contests the assertion that the work of Philolaus was first brought to light by Plato. Preller (Allg. Encycl. iii. Sect. vol. xxiii. 371), at any rate, does not convince me of the contrary. The result of Böckh’s enquiry, p. 24 sqq., is, that the work bore the title περὶ φύσεως, that it was divided into three books, and is identical with the writing to which Proclus gives the mystical name of βάκχαι.
2 Cf. p. 361, and Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 185; ibid. 75 sqq.; Diogenes L. viii. 42, a portion of a letter said to be his. Further details as to the writings attributed to him, p. 322, Part iii. b, 37, second edition.
3 In the Timeus and Critias; cf. especially Timaeus 20 A.
4 Iamblichus 139, 148, calls him a scholar of Pythagoras. He also, in section 148, names Crotona as his native city; in section 67, however, agreeing with Diogenes L. viii. 46; Apul. Dogm. Plat. (sub init.); Tarentum; section 266 represents him, together with a certain Thearides, as living in Metapontum; this statement, however, stands in a very doubtful connection. Diogenes L. ii. 6, aud Apul. loc. cit. mention him among the Italian instructors of Plato. Some tenets of his will be mentioned further on. The fragments in Stobaeus Eclogae i, 210, and Clement Stromata v. 589 D, do not belong to him, but to an imaginary Eurysus, and are no doubt spurious.
5 We know little more of them than what is said in Diogenes L. viii, 46 (cf. Iamblichus Vita Pythag. 251): τελευταῖοι yap ἔγένοντο τῶν Πυθαγορείων ovs καὶ Ἀριστόξενος εἶδε, Ξενόφιλός θ᾽ ὁ Χαλκιδεὺς ἀπὸ Θράκης καὶ Φᾶντων ὁ Φλιάσιος καί Ἐχεκράτης καὶ Διοκλῆς καί Πολύμναστος, Φλιάσιοι καὶ αὐτοί. ἦσαν δ᾽ ἀκροαταὶ Φιλολάου καὶ Εὐρύτου τῶν Ταραντίνων. Of Xenophilus we are told (Plin. Historia Naturalis vii. 50, 168; Valer. Max. viii. 13, 3; Lucian, Macrob. 18) that he attained the age of 105 in perfect health. The two last authorities appeal to Aristoxenus in support of this statement. Pliny and the Pseudo-Lucian call Xenophilus the musician; according to the latter, he lived in Athens. Echecrates is the same person who is mentioned in the Phaedo and in the ninth Platonic letter. Cicero Fin. v. 29, 87, wrongly calls him a Locrian, cf. Steinhart, Plato's Werke, iv. 558.

|365| the last of the Pythagoreans, and he says that with them the school, as such, became extinct. 1 The school, according to this, must have died out in Greece proper soon after the middle of the fourth century, though the Bacchic Pythagorean rites may have continued 2 to exist some time longer, and may have furnished a pretext to Diodorus of Aspendus,
3 for designating his cynicism as Pythagorean Philosophy.

1 Vide previous note, and Iamblichus loc. cit.: ἐφύλαξαν μὲν οὖν τὰ ἐξ ἀρχῆς ἤθη καὶ τὰ μαθήματα, καίτοι ἐκλειπούσης τῆς αἱρέσεως ἕως ἐντελῶς ἠφανίσθησαν. ταῦτα μὲν οὖν ᾿Δριστόξενος διηγεῖται. Diodor. xv. 76. The last Pythagorean philosophers lived in the third year of the 103rd Olympiad (366 BC).
2 As will be shown later on.
3 This Diodorus, who came from the city of Aspendus, in Pamphylia, is mentioned by Sosicrates, ap. Diogenes L. vi. 13, as the inventor of the Cynic garb, or, as Athen. iv. 163, more accurately says, the person who first wore it among the Pythagoreans. With this Timaeus, ap. Athen. loc. cit. agrees. Iamblichus 266 calls him a pupil of Aresas, the Pythagorean; but this is manifestly false, as Aresas is said to have escaped from the persecution of Cylon, and Diodorus, according to Athenaeeus, must have lived about 300. To the same period Lyco seems to belong, who is called by Diogenes L. (v. 69) Πυθαγορικὸς, and whose attacks upon Aristotle are spoken of by Aristocles, Eusebius Praeparatio evangelica xv. 2, 4 sq. The latter says of him, Λύκωνος τοῦ λέγοντος εἶναι Πυθαγορικὸν ἑαυτόν, and includes him among those adversaries οὗ Aristotle who were contemporary with him, or somewhat later. (This was overlooked, supra, p. 308, 1.) It is probably the same person who is called in Iamblichus 267 a Tarentine.

  Even in Italy, however, the Pythagorean school was not annihilated by the blow which destroyed its political ascendency. Though the persecution may have extended to most of the Greek colonies, it can hardly |366| have done so to all, and in certain cities Pythagorean teachers would seem to have maintained their position even before the restoration of peace. At all events, if the sojourn of Philolaus in Heraclea, 1 for instance, be a historical fact, it perhaps may have occurred previously to that epoch. In this same town is said to have lived Clinias the Tarentine, 2 who in any case was no doubt a near contemporary of Philolaus. 3 As to his philosophical importance, we can decide nothing. Many proofs have come down to us of the purity, gentleness, and nobility of his character; 4 but we possess very few of his philosophic propositions, and these are by no means of unquestionable authenticity. 5 Prorus is mentioned as another of his contemporaries in Cyrene, 6 to which city, if this statement be true, Pythagoreanism must have spread from its original centre. In the first half of the fourth century, it even attained, in the person of Archytas, 7 to new political importance.

1 Iamblichus 266, where from the context the Italian Heraclea can alone be meant; this city was a colony from Tarentum and Thurii, founded in the fourth year of the 86th Olympiad.
2 Iamblichus 266 sq.
3 As is presupposed by the apocryphal story in Diogenes L. ix. 40, that he and Amyclas restrained Plato from burning the writings of Democritus.
4 Iamblichus Vita Pythagorica 289; cf. 127, 198; Athen. xiii. 623 sq. after Chameleon; Aelian. V. Ηist. xiv. 23; Basil. De Leg. Grae. libr. Opp. ii. 179 d (Serm. xiii.; Opp. ii. 549 c.); cf. note 3.
5 The two fragments of an ethical character in Stobaeus Flori. i. 65 sq. are evidently spurious, as may be seen from the mode of expression. So no doubt is the statement about the One in Syrian, on Metaphysics Schol. in Ar. 927 a, 19 sqq. A small fragment, which we find in Iamblichus Theologoumena arithmeticae 19, bears no definite mark of being spurious; but, on the other hand, its authenticity cannot be demonstrated. Lastly, Plutarch Quaestiones Convivales iii. 6, 8, is a passage of small importance, whether genuine or not.
6 According to Diodorus, Fragm. p. 554, Wess., Clinias, learning that Prorus had lost his property, journeyed to Cyrene to the relief of this brother Pythagorean, who was personally unknown to him.
7 What we know of his life is |367| limited to a very few statements. Born in Tarentum (Diogenes L. viii. 79, etc.), a contemporary of Plato and of Dionysius the younger (Aristox. ap. Athen. xii. 545 a; Diogenes L. loc. cit.; Plato, Ep. vii. 338 c), said to be Plato’s instructor (Cicero Fin. v. 29, 87; Rep. i. 10; Cato, 12, 41); according to another equally untrustworthy account (vide supra, 320, 4) his pupil—he was equally great as a statesman (Strabo, vi. 3, 4, p. 280: προέστη τῆς πόλεως πολὺν χρόνον; Athen. loc. cit.; Plutarch Praec. Ger. Reip. 28, 5, p. 821; Ael. V. H. iii. 17; Demosth. Amator. vide supra, p. 320, 4) and as a general (Aristox. ap. Diogenes L. viii. 79, 82, vide supra, p. 321, 2; Aelian, Varia Historia vii. 14). He distinguished himself in mathematics, mechanics, and harmony (Diogenes L. viii. 83; Horat. Carm. 1. 28; Ptolem. Harm. i. 18; Porphyry in Ptol. Harm. 313; Proclus in Euc. 19 [66 Friedl. after Eudemus]; Apul. Apol. p. 456; Athen. iv. 184 e), of a noble and well balanced character (Cicero Tusculan Disputations iv. 36, 78; Plutarch Ed. Puer. 14, p. 10; Des. Num. Vind. 5, p. 551; other particulars ap. Athen. xii. 519 b; Aelian 15; xiv. 19. Diogenes L. 79). His death by drowning is well known from Horace. As to his writings, vide supra, p. 320 sqq., and Part iii. b, 88 sqq., second edition.

We know |367| little, however, with certainty concerning his scientific theories; nor can we determine how far a philosophic impulse was connected with this renewed life of the school. Soon after the period of Archytas the Pythagorean school, even in Italy, seems to have died out, or at any rate, to have been represented only by some isolated followers. Aristoxenus, at least, speaks of it as an entirely extinct phenomenon, 1 and we have no information from other sources as to the longer continuance of the school, 2 although the knowledge of its doctrines was not confined to the sages of Greece. 3

1 Vide supra, p. 364, 4.
2 For Nearchus the Tarentine, to whom Cato (ap. Cicero Cato, 12, 41) refers the tradition of a discourse of Archytas against pleasure, is probably an imaginary person, and is not even called by Cicero a Pythagorean. It is Plutarch who, in repeating Cicero’s statement (Cato Maj. c. 2) first so describes him. This discourse, the pendant to the hedonistic discourse which Aristoxenus, ap. Athen. xii. 545 b sqq., puts into the mouth of Polyarchus in the presence of Archytas, no doubt arose, either directly or indirectly, out of this passage of Aristoxenus.
3 Vide infra, Part iii. b, 68 sq., second edition.

  Besides those Pythagoreans we have spoken of, |368| many others are named in the confused and ill-arranged catalogue of Iamblichus, 1 and elsewhere. But several of these names evidently do not belong to the Pythagoreans at all; others have possibly been introduced by subsequent interpolators; and all are worthless for us, because we know nothing further about the men they designate. There are, however, some few men who are connected with the Pythagorean school, but do not properly belong to it, whom we shall have to notice later on.

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iii. Pythagorean Conceptions: Number and its Elements

  In order to estimate rightly the philosophy of the Pythagoreans, it is of the highest importance that we should distinguish in their doctrines and institutions that which is philosophical in the narrower sense from that which has arisen from other sources and motives. The Pythagoreans constitute primarily not a scientific, but a moral, religious, and political association; 2 and though a definite tendency of philosophic thought was developed in this association at an early period, and probably by its very founder, yet its members were not all philosophers, nor were all the doctrines and opinions

1 Vit. Pyth. 267 sqq.
2 Vide supra, 352 sq. The name ‘Pythagoreans’ or ‘Pythagorici’ seems to have been originally, like Cylonists or Orphici, a party designation of a political or religious, rather than a philosophical kind, bestowed on them, perhaps, by their enemies. This seems to explain Aristotle’s expression, of καλούμενοι Πυθαγόρειοι (vide supra, p. 307, 2), cf. Dicaearch. ap. Porphyry 56: Πυθαγόρειοι δ᾽ ἐκλήθησαν ἡ συστασις ἅπασα ἡ συνακολουθήσασα αὐτῷ.

|369| which they entertained the result of philosophic enquiry. On the contrary, many of these may have arisen independently of such enquiry, and may have related to objects with which the Pythagorean philosophy never concerned itself. Although, therefore, in considering these doctrines and opinions, we ought not to lose sight of their possible connection with the purely philosophic doctrines, yet we must not reckon all that is Pythagorean as belonging to the Pythagorean >Philosophy. As well might we regard all that is Hellenic as Greek philosophy, or all that is to be found among Christian peoples as Christian philosophy. We have consequently to enquire in each particular case how far any Pythagorean doctrine is philosophic as to its content, that is, how far it may or may not be explained by the philosophic character of the school.
  The most generally distinctive doctrine of the Pythagorean philosophy is contained in the proposition that number is the essence of all things, that everything, in its essence, is number. 1 How we are to understand |370| this formula, however, is a point on which our authorities are in appearance not fully agreed.

1 Aristotle Metaphysics i. 5: ἐν δὲ τούτοις καὶ πρὸ τούτων οἱ καλούμενοι Πυθαγόρειοι τῶν μαθημάτων ἁψάμενοι πρῶτοι ταῦτά τε προήγαγον, καὶ ἐντραφέντες ἐν αὐτοῖς τὰς τούτων ἀρχὰς τῶν ὄντων ἀρχὰς ᾠήθησαν εἶναι πάντων. ἐπεὶ δὲ τούτων οἱ ἀριθμοὶ φύσει πρῶτοι, ἐν δὲ τούτοις ἐδόκουν θεωρεῖν ὁμοιώματα πολλὰ τοῖς οὖσι καὶ γιγνομένοις, μᾶλλον ἢ ἐν πυρὶ καὶ γῇ καὶ ὕδατι, ὅτι τὸ μὲν τοιονδὶ τῶν ἀριθμῶν πάθος δικαιοσύνη τὸ δὲ τοιονδὶ ψυχή τε καὶ νοῦς ἕτερον δὲ καιρὸς καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ὡς εἰπεῖν ἕκαστον ὁμοίως, ἔτι δὲ τῶν ἁρμονιῶν ἐν ἀριθμοῖς ὁρῶντες τὰ πάθη καὶ τοὺς λόγους,—ἐπεὶ δὴ τὰ μὲν ἄλλα τοῖς ἀριθμοῖς ἐφαίνοντο τὴν φύσιν ἀφωμοιῶσθαι πᾶσαν, οἱ δʼ ἀριθμοὶ πάσης τῆς φύσεως πρῶτοι, 986a τὰ τῶν ἀριθμῶν στοιχεῖα τῶν ὄντων στοιχεῖα πάντων ὑπέλαβον εἶναι, καὶ τὸν ὅλον οὐρανὸν ἁρμονίαν εἶναι καὶ ἀριθμόν· Cf. ibid. iii. 5, 1002 a, 8: οἱ μὲν πολλοὶ καὶ οἱ πρότερον τὴν οὐσίαν καὶ τὸ ὃν ᾤοντο τὸ σῶμα εἶναι…οἱ δ᾽ ὕστερον καὶ σοφώτεροι τούτων εἶναι δόξαντες τοὺς ἀριθμούς. Cf. the following note. It seems unnecessary to add to these Aristotelian passages the explanations of later writers, such as Cicero, Academica ii. 37; 118, Plutarch Placita i. 3, 14, etc.

On the one side, Aristotle frequently asserts that, according to the Pythagorean theory, things consist of numbers, 1 or of the elements of numbers; 2 that numbers are not merely qualities of a third substance, but immediately, and in themselves, the substance of things; and form the essence of things; yet for that very reason, do not exist apart from things, like the Platonic ideas. 3 He, therefore, in considering the relation of the Pythagorean numbers to his four kinds of causes, places them among the material, as well as the formal causes; for the Pythagoreans, he says, sought in numbers at

1 Vide previous note, and Metaphysics xiii. 6, 1080 b, 16: καὶ οἱ Πυθαγόρειοι δ᾽ ἕνα τὸν μαθηματικὸν [ἀριθμὸν] πλὴν οὐ κεχωρισμένον, ἀλλ᾽ ἐκ τούτου τὰς αἰσθητὰς οὐσίας συνεστάναι φασίν (or, as in i. 2: ὡς ἐκ τῶν ἀριθμῶν ἐνυπαρχόντων ὄντα τὰ αἰσθητά). Vgl. c. 8, 1083 b, 11: τὸ δὲ τὰ σώματα ἐξ ἀριθμῶν εἶναι συγκείμενα καὶ τὸν ἀριθμὸν τοῦτον εἶναι μαθηματικὸν ἀδύνατόν ἐστιν…ἐκεῖνοι δὲ τὸν ἀριθμὸν τὰ ὄντα λέγουσιν: τὰ γοῦν θεωρήματα προσάπτουσι τοῖς σώμασιν ὡς ἐξ ἐκείνων ὄντων τῶν ἀριθμῶν. xiv. 3. 1090 a, 20: οἱ δὲ Πυθαγόρειοι διὰ τὸ ὁρξν πολλὰ τῶν ἀριθμῶν πάθη ὑπάρχοντα τοῖς αἰσθητοῖς σώμασιν, εἶναι μὲν ἀριθμοὺς ἐποίησαν τὰ ὄντα, οὐ χωριστοὺς δὲ, ἀλλ᾽ ἐξ ἀριθμῶν τὰ ὄντα, whence the censure in l. 32: ποιεῖν ἐξ ἀριθμῶν τὰ φυσικὰ σώματα, ἐκ μὴ ἐχόντων βάρος μηδὲ κουφότητα ἔχοντα κουφότητα καὶ βάρος. i. 8, 990 b, 21: ἀριθμὸν δ᾽ ἄλλον μηθένα εἶναι παρὰ τὸν ἀριθμὸν τοῦτον, ἐξ οὗ συνέστηκεν 6 κόσμος.
2 Vide previous note, and Metaphysics i. 5, 987 a, 14: τοσοῦτον δὲ προσεπέθεσαν [οἱ Πυθαγόρειοι] ὃ καὶ ἴδιόν ἐστιν αὐτῶν, ὅτι τὸ πεπερασμένον καὶ τὸ ἄπειρον καὶ τὸ ἕν οὐχ ἑτέρας τινὰς φήθησαν εἶναι φύσεις, οἷον πῦρ ἢ γῆν ἤ τι τοιοῦτον ἕτερον, ἀλλ᾽ αὐτὸ τὸ ἄπειρον καὶ αὐτὸ τὸ ἕν οὐσίαν εἶναι τούτων ὧν κατηγοροῦνται, διὸ καὶ ἀριθμὸν εἶναι τὴν οὐσίαν ἁπάντων. Similarly Physics iii. 4, 203 a, 3, of the ἄπειρον alone; Metaphysics i. 6, 987 b, 22; iii. 1, 996 a, 5; ibid. c. 4, 1001 a, 9; x. 2 init. of the ὃν and the ἕν.
3 Metaphysics i. 5 (vide previous note), 6. 6, 987 b, 27: 6 μὲν [Πλάτων] τοὺς ἀριθμοὺς παρὰ τὰ αἰσθητὰ, [Πυθαγόρειοι] δ᾽ ἀριθμοὺς εἶναί φασιν αὐτὰ τὰ πράγματα…τὸ μὲν οὖν τὸ ἕν καὶ τοὺς ἀριθμοὺς παρὰ τὰ πράγματα ποιῆσαι καὶ μὴ ὥσπερ οἱ Πυθ. etc. Aristotle often makes use of the same distinction to discriminate the Pythagorean doctrine from the Platonic; cf. Metaphysics xiii. 6 (vide note 1), c. 8, 1083 b, 8; xiv. 3, 1090 a, 20; Physics iii. 4, 203 a, 3.

|371| once the matter and the qualities of things. 1 With this Philolaus in substance agrees; since he not only describes number as the law of the universe, and that which holds it together, the power that rules over gods and men, the condition of all definition and knowledge, 2 but he calls the Limit and the Unlimited, which

1 Metaphysics i. 5, 986 a, 15: φαίνονται δὴ καὶ οὗτοι τὸν ἀριθμὸν νομίζοντες ἀρχὴν εἶναι καὶ ὡς ὕλην τοῖς οὖσι καὶ ὡς πάθη τε καὶ ἕξεις. To this belongs also the passage in 986 b, 6: ἐοίκασι δ᾽ ὡς ἐν ὕλης εἴδει τὰ στοιχεῖα τάττειν᾽ ἐκ τούτων γὰρ ὡς ἐνυπαρχόντων συνεστάναι καὶ πεπλάσθαι φασὶ τὴν οὐσίαν: whether we refer these words, with Bonitz, in the first instance, to the ten oppositions previously enumerated (vide infra), or directly to the στοιχεῖα τοῦ ἀριθμοῦ (mentioned, 986 a, 17), the Uneven or Limited, and the Even or Unlimited; for the ten opposites are only the ulterior development of the fundamental opposition of the Limited and Unlimited. Aristotle probably had in his mind the passage from Philolaus, quoted p. 372. 1, as has already been observed, p. 316.
2 Frag. 18 (Böckh, 139 sqq.) ap. Stobaeus Eclogae i. 8: θεωρεῖν δεῖ τὰ ἔργα καὶ τὰν ἐσσίαν τῶ ἀριθμῶ καττὰν δύναμιν, ἅτις ἐντὶ ἐν τᾷ δεκάδι· μεγάλα γὰρ καὶ παντελὴς καὶ παντοεργὸς καὶ θείω καὶ οὐρανίω βίω καὶ ἀνθρωπίνω ἀρχὰ καὶ ἁγεμὼν…ἄνευ δὲ ταύτας πάντα ἄπειρα καὶ ἄδηλα καὶ ἀφανῆ· νομικὰ γὰρ ἃ φύσις τῶ ἄριθμῶ καὶ ἁγεμονικὰ καὶ διδασκαλικὰ τῶ ἀπορουμένω παντὸς καὶ ἀγνοουμένω παντί. οὐ γὰρ ἧς δῆλον οὐθενὶ οὐθὲν τῶν πραγμάτων οὔτε αὐτῶν ποθ᾽ αὑτὰ οὔτε ἄλλω ποτ᾽ ἄλλο, εἰ μὴ ἧς ἀριθμὸς καὶ ἃ τούτω ἐσσία: νῦν δὲ οὗτος καττὰν ψυχὰν ἁρμόζων αἰσθήσει πάντα γνωστὰ καὶ ποτάγορα ἀλλάλοις κατὰ γνώμονος φύσιν (cf. Böckh, loc. cit.) ἀπεργάζεται, σωματῶν καὶ σχίζων τοὺς λόγους χωρὶς ἑκάστους τῶν πραγμάτων τῶν τε ἀπείρων καὶ τῶν περαινόντων. ἴδοις δὲ καὶ οὐ μόνυν ἐν τοῖς δαιμονίοις καὶ θείοις πράγμασι τὰν τε ἀριθμῶ φύσιν καὶ τὰν δύναμιν ἰσχύουσαν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἀνθρωπικοῖς ἔργοις καὶ λόγοις πᾶσι πάντα καὶ κατὰ τὰςδαμιουργίας τὰς τεχνικὰς πάσας καὶ κατὰ τὰν μουσικάν. ψεῦδος δ᾽ οὐθὲν δέχεται ἁ τῷ ἀριθμῷ φύσις οὐδὲ ἁρμονία: οὐ γὰρ οἰκεῖον αὐτοῖς ἐντι' τᾶς γὰρ ἀπείρω καὶ ἀνοήτω (-άτω) καὶ ἀλόγω φύσιος τὸ ψεῦδος καὶ ὁ φθόνος ἐντί, and similarly afterwards, probably taken from another place, we read, ψεῦδος δὲ οὐδαμῶς ἐς ἀριθμὸν ἐπιπενῖ. πολέμιον γὰρ καὶ ἐχθρὸν αὐτῶ τᾷ φύσι ἃ δ᾽ ἀλάθεια οἰκεῖον καὶ σύμφυτον τᾷ τῶ ἀριθμῶ γενεᾷ. Frag. 2 (Böckh, 58) ap. Stobaeus i. 456: καὶ πάντα γα μὰν τὰ γιγνωσκόμενα ἀριθμὸν ἔχοντι· οὐ γὰρ ὅτιῶν οἷόν τε οὐθὲν οὔτε νιηθῆμεν οὐτε γνωσθῆμεν ἄνευτούτω. With the above agrees substantially the assertion of Iamblichus, in Nicom. Arithm. p. 11 (ap. Böckh, p. 137), which is repeated by Syrian, ix Metaphysics (Scholium in Ar. 902 a, 29, 912 b, 17): Φιλόλαος δέ φησιν ἄἂριθμὸν εἶναι τῆς τῶν κοσμικῶν αἰωνίας διαμονῆς τὴν κρατιστεύουσαν καὶ αὐτογενῆ συνοχήν, but these words cannot have occurred in a genuine work of Philolaus.

|372| are the two constituents of numbers, the things from which all is formed. 1 On the other hand, however, Aristotle likewise says that the Pythagoreans represent things as arising from the imitation of numbers, the manifold similarities of which with things they perceived. 2 In another place he seems to confine the immanence of numbers in things to one portion of the Pythagorean school; 3 and in later accounts the statement that all things consist of numbers, is opposed by the assertion that things are formed, not out of numbers, but after the pattern of numbers. 4 We are

1 Frag. 4, ap. Stobaeus i. 458 (Böckh, 62): ὅ μὲν ἐστὼ [= οὐσία] τῶνπραγμάτων ἀΐδιος ἔσσα καὶ αὐτὰ μὲν ἃ φύσις θείαν τε (Mein. conj. θέία ἐντὶ) καὶ οὐκ ἀνθρωπίναν ἐνδέχεται γνῶσιν πλέον (Mein. πλάν) γα, ἢ ὅτι οὐχ οἷόν τ᾽ ἧς οὐθενὶ τῶν ἐόντων καὶ γιγνωσκομένων ὑϕ’ ἁμῶν γνωσθῆμευ, μὴ ὑπαρχούσας αὐτᾶς [τῆς ἁρμονίας] ἐντὺς τῶν πραγμάτων ἐξ ὧν ξυνέστα ὃ κόσμος τῶν τε περαινόντων καὶ τῶν ἀπείρων (according to Böckh’s correction). Meineke reads μὴ ὕπαρχοίσας τᾶς ἐστοῦς τῶν πραγμάτων, and Rothenbücher, System der Pythagoreer nach den Angaben des Aristotle, p. 72, founds upon the absurdity of this merely conjectural reading, a proof of the unauthenticity of the fragment. In the commencement of the fragment the words αὐτὰ μὲν ἃ φύσις are not very good sense, and even Meineke’s amendment, μόνα ἃ φύσις, does not satisfy me. I would sooner (as already observed in Hermes, x. 188) discard the μὲν as a repetition of the words before ἐστώ, but it would be better still to rend ἀΐδιος ἔσσα καὶ ἀεὶ ἐσομένα φύσις: the essence of things, as a nature which is eternal and which will always exist, is divine.
2 Metaphysics i. 6, 987 b, 10, concerning Plato, τὴν δὲ μέθεξιν (the participation of things in the Ideas) τοὔνομα μόνον μετέβαλεν· οἷ μὲν γὰρ Πυθαγόρειοι μιμήσει τὰ ὄντα φασὶν εἶναι τῶν ἀριθμῶν, Πλάτων δὲ μεθέξει τοὔνομα μεταβαλών. Aristoxenus, ap. Stobaeus i. 16: Πυθαγόρας οὖς πάντα τὰ πράγματα ἀπεικάζων τοῖς ἀριθμοῖς. Cf. the expressions, ὁμοιώματα and ἀϕομοιοῦσθαι in the passage quoted above from Metaphysics i. 5, and the ἀριθμῷ δέ τε πάντ᾽ ἐπέοικεν, ap. Plutarch De An. Procr. 33, 4, p. 1030; Theo. Mus. c. 38; Sextus Empiricus Adversos Mathematicos iv. 2; vii. 94, 109; Iamblichus V. Pyth. 162; Themist. Physics 32 a (220, 22 Sp.); Simplicius De Caelo, 259 a, 39 (Schol. in Aristotle 511 b, 13).
3 De Caelo, iii. 1 sub. fin.: ἔνιοι γὰρ τὴν φύσιν ἐξ ἀριθμῶν συνιστᾶσιν ὥσπερ τῶν Πυθαγορείων τινές.
4 Theano, ap. Stobaeus Eclogae i. 302: συχνοὺς μὲν Ἑλλήνων πέπεισμαι νομίσαι φάναι Ἰπυθαγόραν ἐξ ἀριθμοῦ πάντα φύεσθαι…ὃ δὲ [so Heeren] οὐκ ἐξ ἀριθμοῦ κατὰ δὲ ἀριθμὸν ἔλεγε πάιτα γίγνεσθαι, etc. The pseudo-Pythagoras is represented |373| as saying the same thing in the ἱερὸς λόγος, vide Iamblichus in Nicom. Arithm. p. 11, and Syrian in Metaphysics (Schol. in Aristotle 902 a, 24), when he describes number as the ruler of forms and ideas, the standard and the artistic faculty by which the Deity created the world, the primitive thought of the Deity. Vide also Hippasus (whose doctrine on this point is not opposed to that of Pythagoras, as was maintained after Brandis, in the first edition of this work, i. 100; iii. 515; but is treated as a development of it); ap. Iamblichus loc. cit.; Syn. Schol. in Ar. 902 a, 31, 912 b, 15; Simplicius Physics 104 b, when he calls number παράδειγμα πρῶτον κοσμοποιΐας and κριτικὸν κοσμουργοῦ θεοῦ ὄργανον.

|373| also informed that the Pythagoreans distinguished between numbers and the things numbered, and especially between Unity and the One. 1 From this it has been inferred that they developed their doctrine of numbers in different directions; one division of the school holding numbers to be the inherent ground of things, and another seeing in them merely prototypes. 2 Aristotle, however, gives no countenance to such a theory. In his work on the heavens, indeed, he is only speaking of a portion of the Pythagoreans when he says they made the world to consist of numbers; but it does not follow that the rest of the school explained the world in a different way. He may very possibly have expressed himself in this manner, because all theories of numbers were not developed into a construction of the universe, 3 or because the name of Pythagoreans denoted others besides the Pythagorean philosophers, 4 or because he himself had access to the cosmological writings of some only among these

1 Moderatus, ap. Stobaeus Eclogae i. 20; Theo. Adversos Mathematicos c. 4. Further details later on.
2 Brandis, Rhein-Museum v. Niebuhr und Brandis, ii. 211 sqq.; Gr. Röm. Phil. i. 441 sqq.; Hermann, Geschich. und Syst. d. Plat. i. 167 sq., 286 sq.
3 He does not really say that only a portion of the Pythagoreans made things to consist of numbers, but: ἕνιοι τὴν φύσιν ἐξ ἀριθμῶν συνιστᾶσι, or as it stands previously: ἐξ ἀριθμῶν συντιθέασι τὸν οὐρανόν.
4 Vide supra, p. 369.

|374| philosophers. 1 But he elsewhere attributes both doctrines—viz., that things consist of numbers, and that they are copied from numbers—to the Pythagoreans generally; and the two statements appear not in widely separated passages, but in such close juxtaposition, that if they had been in his opinion irreconcilable, their contradictoriness could not possibly have escaped him. Because the Pythagoreans discovered many similarities between numbers and things, he says (Metaphysics i. 5; xiv. 3) they held the elements of numbers to be the elements of things; they perceived in number (he adds in the same chapter) both the matter and the qualities of things; and in the same place that he ascribes to them the doctrine of the imitation of things by numbers, Metaphysics i. 6, he asserts that they differed from Plato in considering numbers, not as Plato did the ideas as separate from things, but as the things themselves. From this it is evident that the two statements ‘numbers are the substance of things,’ and ‘numbers are the prototypes of things,’ do not, in Aristotle’s opinion, exclude one another; 2 the Pythagoreans, according to his

1 Aristotle is fond of employing limitations and guarded expressions. Thus we continually find ἴσως and similar words where he is giving utterance to his most decided opinions (e.g. Metaphysics viii. 4, 1044 b, 7); and the same is the case with ἔνιοι. when he says, for instance, De De Generatione et Corruptione ii. 5 init.: εἰ γάρ ἐστι τῶν φυσικῶν σωμάτων ὕλη, ὥσπερ καὶ δοκεῖ ἐνίοις, ὕδωρ καὶ ἀὴρ καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα. or, as in Metaphysics i. 1, 981 b, 2: τῶν ἀψύχων ἔντα ποιεῖν μὲν, οὐκ εἰδότα δὲ ποιεῖν ἃ ποιεῖ. As we cannot infer from these words that Aristotle believed some lifeless things to act with consciousness, neither does it follow from the passage in De Caelo that some Pythagoreans made the world to consist of something other than numbers.
2 Thus in Metaphysics i. 5 (to which Schwegler in his commentary on this passage rightly calls attention), the conception of the ὁμοίωμα itself is transferred to the corporeal elements, for it is said the Pythagoreans thought they observed in numbers many similarities to things, μᾶλλον ἢ ἐν πυρὶ, γῇ καὶ ὕδατι, and on the other hand, Aristotle (Physics ii. 3, 194 b, 26) calls the Form which he regards as the immanent essence of things, παράδειγμα.

|375| representation, considered things to be the copies of numbers, for the very reason that numbers are the essence of which things consist, and the properties of which must therefore be cognisable in them. Philolaus places number in this same relation to things when he describes it (loc. cit.) as their law and the cause of their properties and relations; for there is the same relation between law and its fulfillment as between prototype and copy. Later writers, indeed, conceive the Pythagorean numbers entirely after the manner of the Platonic ideas—as models external to things. There are traces, however, even among those writers of the contrary opinion. 1 But we cannot attach much importance to the testimony of persons who are evidently unable to distinguish earlier theories from later, or the Pythagorean doctrines from those of the Platonists and Neo-Pythagoreans. 2

1 Theo, for example, loc. cit. p. 27, remarks on the relation of the Monad to the One: Ἀρχύτας δὲ καὶ Φιλόλαος ἀδιαφόρως τὸ ἕν Kal μονάδα καλοῦσι καὶ τὴν μονάδα ἕν. Also Alexander (ad Metaphysics i. 4, 985 b, 26, p. 29, 17. Bon.) presupposes the same when he says of the Pythagoreans: τὸν νοῦν μονάδα τε καὶ ἕν ἔλεγον; and concerning the Ideas, Stobaeus Eclogae i. 326, asserts that Pythagoras sought them in numbers and their harmonies, and in geometric proportions, ἀχώριστα τῶν σωμάτων.
1 For this reason I consider it unnecessary to discuss the manifestly incorrect statements of Syrian and Pseudo-Alexander in regard to Metaphysics xiii., xiv., which continually confuse the Pythagoreans and Platonists. In xii. 1, indeed, they call the theory of Ideas, as well as the Xenocratic distinction of the Mathematical sphere and the Sensible, Pythagorean.

  The meaning of the Pythagorean fundamental doctrine then is this:—All is number, i.e., all consists of numbers; number is not merely the form by which the constitution of things is determined, but also the |376| substance and the matter of which they consist. It is one of the essential peculiarities of the Pythagorean standpoint that the distinction of form and matter is not as yet recognised.—We regard numbers only as an expression for the relation of substances, they directly seek in them the essence and substance of the real. The Pythagoreans (as we are told by Aristotle, 1 and also by Philolaus 2) were doubtless led to this theory by perceiving that all phenomena are ordered according to numbers; that especially the relations of the heavenly bodies, and of tones, and, generally speaking, all mathematical conceptions, are governed by certain numbers and numerical proportions. This observation is itself connected with the ancient use of symbolic round numbers, and with the belief in the occult power and significance of particular numbers, 3 which belief was current among the Greeks as among other nations, and probably existed from the very commencement in the Pythagorean mysteries. But as Plato subsequently gave substance to the Idea—as the Eleatics made the real, which was at first conceived as a predicate of all things, the sole and universal substance—so by virtue of the same realism, which was so natural to antiquity, the Pythagoreans regarded mathematical, or more accurately, arithmetical determinations, not as a form or

1 Metaphysics i. 5, xiv. 3, vide supra, p. 369, 1, 370, 1.
2 Vide the passages quoted p. 370 sq. Further particulars hereafter.
3 In proof of this we need only call to mind the importance of the number seven (so celebrated among the Pythagoreans), especially in the cult of Apollo (vide Preller, Mythol. i. 155); the many triple orders in the mythology—Hesiod’s exact prescripts concerning lucky and unlucky days of the year (Ἐπ. καὶ ἡμ., 763 sqq.); Homer's preference for certain numbers, and the like, mentioned in Ps. Plutarch V. Hom. 145.

|377| a quality of things, but as their whole essence, and without any discrimination or restriction, said generally:—All is number. This is a mode of presentation which sounds strangely enough to us; if, however, we consider how great an impression must have been produced upon the receptive mind by the first perception of a universal, and unalterable mathematical order in phenomena, we shall better understand how number came to be reverenced as the cause of all order and definiteness; as the ground of all knowledge; as the divine power that rules in the world; and how thought accustomed to move, not in the sphere of abstract conceptions, but in that of intuitions, could hypostasise number, as the substance of all things.
  All numbers are divided into odd and even, to which, as a third class, the even-odd (ἀρτιοπέρισσον) is added, 1 and every given number can be resolved either into odd or even elements. 2

1 Philol. Frag. 2. ap. Stobaeus i. 456, etc. ὅ γα μὰν ἀριθμὸς ἔχει δύο μὲν ἴδια εἴδη, περισσὸν καὶ ἄρτιον, τρίτον δὲ ἀμ’ ἀμφοτέρων μιχθέντων ἄρτιοπέρισσον. ἑκατέρω δὲ τῶ εἴδεος πολλαὶ μορφαί. By the ἀρτιορισσον we must understand either the One, which was so called by the Pythagoreans (vide infra, p. 379, 1), but which we should scarcely expect to be described as a separate species; or those even numbers, which, when divided by two, give an uneven result. Vide Iamblichus in Nicom. p. 29: ἀρτιοπέρισσος δέ ἐστιν ὁ καὶ αὐτὸς μὲν εἰς δύο ἴσα κατὰ τὸ κοινὸν διαιρούμενος, οὐ μέντοι γε τὰ μέρη ἔτι διαιρετὰ ἔχων, ἀλλ᾽ εὐθὺς ἑκάτερον περισσόν. So in Nikom. Arithm. Isag. i. 9, p. 12; Theo, Adversos Mathematicos i., p. 36; cf. Moderatus ap. Stobaeus i. 22: ὥστε ἐν τῷ διαιρεῖσθαι δίχα πολλοὶ τῶν ἀρτίων εἰς περισσοὺς τὴν ἀνάλυσιν λαμβάνουσιν ὡς ὁ ἕξ καὶ δέκα. This is the true reading. Gaisford would keep ἑξκαίδεκα, which is against the sense; and Heeren, with whom Meineke agrees, conjectures, not very happily, ὀκτωκαίδεκα.
2 Cf. the words in the passage from Philolaus ap. Stobaeus, i. 456: τὰ μὲν γὰρ αὐτῶν ἐκ περαινόντων περαίνοντα, τὰ δ᾽ ἐκ περαινόντων τε καὶ ἀπείρων περαίνοντά τε καὶ οὐ περαίνοντα, τὰ δ᾽ ἐξ ἀπείρων ἄπειρα ϕανέονται. Among numbers, of which Philolaus is chiefly thinking, those which result from uneven factors only belong to the first class; those which result from even and uneven factors, to the second; those which result from even factors only, to the third.

From this the |378| Pythagoreans concluded that the odd and the even are the universal constituents of numbers, and furthermore, of things. They identified the uneven with the limited, and the even with the unlimited, because the even does not. 1 Thus they arrived at the proposition that |379| all consists of the Limited and the Unlimited. 1a

1 This is the reason given by the Greek commentators of Aristotle. Simplicius Physics 105 a: οὗτοι δὲ τὸ ἄπειρον τὸν ἄρτιον ἀριθμὸν ἔλεγον, διὰ τὸ πᾶν μὲν ἄρτιον, ὥς φασιν οἱ ἐξηγηταὶ, εἰς ἴσα διαιρούμενον ἄπειρον κατὰ τὴν διχοτομίαν. ἡ γὰρ εἰς ἴσα καὶ ἡμίση διαίρεσις ἐπ᾽ ἄπειρον, τὸ δὲ περιττὸν προςτεθὲν περαίνει αὐτὸ, κωλύει yap αὐτοῦ τὴν εἰς τὰ ἴσα διαίρεσιν. οὕτω μὲν οὖν οἱ ἐξηγηταὶ (to whom Alexander doubtless belongs). Similarly, Philop. Physics K., 11, ibid. 12: τὸ μὲν yap περιττὸν περατοῖ καὶ ὁρίζει, τὸ δὲ ἄρτιον τῆς ἐπ᾽ ἄπειρον τομῆς οἴτιόν ἐστιν, ἀεὶ τὴν διχοτομίαν δεχόμενον. Themist. Physics 92 a, p. 221 Speng. The Pythagoreans declare the ἄρτιος ἀριθμὸς only as unlimited: τοῦτον γὰρ εἶναι τῆς εἰς τὰ ἴσα τομῆς αἴτιον ἥτις ἄπειρο. Aristotle himself says, Physics iii. 4, 203 a, 10: of μὲν (the Pythagoreans) τὸ ἄπειρον εἶναι τὸ ἄρτιον· τοῦτο γὰρ ἐναπολαμβανόμενον (the uneven included) παρέχειν τοῖς οὖσι τὴν ἀπειρίαν. This, indeed, asserts that the even must be the cause of unlimitedness, but not why it should be so; nor do we gather this from the additional words, σημεῖον δ᾽ εἶναι τούτου τὸ συμβαῖνον ἐπὶ τῶν ἀριθμῶν: περιτιθεμένων γὰρ τῶν γνωμόνων περὶ τὸ ἐν καὶ χωρὶς ὁτὲ μὲν ἄλλο γίνεσθαι τὸ εἶδος, ὅτὲ δὲ ἕν. These words were explained by the Greek commentators (Alex. ap. Simplicius 105 b; Schol. 362 a, 30 sqq. and Simplicius himself; Themist. loc. cit. Philop. K. 13) unanimously as follows: A gnomon is a number which, being added to a square, gives another square; and as this is a property of all uneven numbers (for 1² + 3 = 2², 2² + 5 = 3², 3² + 7 = 4² and so on) such numbers (as Simplicius 105 a, Philop. K. 13, expressly assert) were called by the Pythagoreans γνώμονες. By the addition of odd numbers to one, we get only square numbers (1 + 3 = 2²; 1 + 3 + 5 = 3² and so on), and therefore numbers of one kind; whereas in any other way—whether by adding together odd and even numbers (so Philop. says), or by adding even numbers only to the one (so say Alexander, Simplicius, and Themist.), we obtain numbers of the most different sorts, ἑτερομήκεις, τρίγωνοι, ἑπτάγωνοι, etc., and consequently an unlimited plurality of εἴδη. This interpretation seems to me preferable to those of Röth, loc. cit. and Prantl (Aristotle Physics 489). To bring them into harmony with the text of Aristotle was a difficulty, even to the old commentators. The most probable supposition appears to be that the words, which are obscure, from the excessive conciseness |379| of καὶ χωρὶς, mean this: that if on the one hand the γνώμονες be added to the one, there arises one and the same kind of numbers; but if, on the other hand, the other numbers, without the γνώμονες, different kinds. So that καὶ χωρὶς would signify: καὶ περιτιθεμένων τῶν ἀριθμῶν χωρὶς τῶν γνωμόνων.
1a Aristotle Metaphysics i. 5, 986 a, 17: τοῦ δὲ ἀριθμοῦ [νομίζουσι] στοιχεῖα τό τε ἄρτιον καὶ τὸ περιττὸν, τούτων δὲ τὸ μὲν πεπερασμένον τὸ δὲ ἄπειρον, τὸ δ᾽ Ev ἐξ ἀμφοτέρων εἶναι τούτων (καὶ γὰρ ἄρτιον εἶναι καὶ περιττὸν), τὸν δ᾽ ἀριθμὸν ἐκ τοῦ ἑνὸς, ἀριθμοὺς δὲ, καθάπερ εἴρηται, τὸν ὅλον οὐρανόν. Philolaus Frag. 1, ap. Stobaeus i. 454: ἀνάγκα τὰ ἐόντα εἶμεν πάντα ἢ περαίνοντα ἢ ἄπειρα, ἢ περαίνοντά τε καὶ ἄπειρα. This is probably the commencement of his work, succeeded by the proof of this theorem, of which the following words only have been preserved by Stobaeus, ἄπειρα δὲ μόνον οὐκ ἀεὶ [οὔ κα εἴη Mein.], and these in addition by Iamblichus ix Nicom. 7, and in Villoison, Anecd. ii. 196: ἀρχὰν γὰρ οὐδὲ τὸ γνωσούμενον ἐσσεῖται πάντων ἀπείρων ἐόντων, vide Böckh, p. 47 sqq. Schaarschmidt, on the other hand (Schrift. des Philol. 61), reproduces the text of Stobaeus without any mention of the lacunae in it; and Rothenbücher, System der Pythagoreer nach den Angaben des Aristotle, 68, makes objections to this text, which immediately disappear upon a right apprehension of what Philolaus really said: ἐπεὶ τοίνυν φαίνεται οὔτ᾽ ἐκ περαινόντων πάντων ἐόντα οὔτ᾽ ἐξ ἀπείρων πάντων, δῆλόν τ᾽ ἄρα ὅτι ἐκ περαινόντων τε καὶ ἀπείρων ὅ τε κόσμος καὶ τὰ ἐν αὐτῷ συναρμόχθη. δηλοῖ δὲ καὶ τὰ ἐν τοῖς ἔργοις. τὰ μὲν γὰρ, etc., vide previous note; cf. Plato, Phileb. 16 C: of μὲν παλαιοὶ, κρείττονες ἡμῶν καὶ ἔγγυτέρω θεῶν οἰκοῦντες, ταύτην φήμην παρέδοσαν, ὡς ἐξ ἑνὸς μὲν καὶ ἐκ πολλῶν ὄντων τῶν ἀεὶ λεγομένων εἶναι, πέρας δὲ καὶ ἀπειρίαν ἐν ἑαυτοῖς ξύμφυτον ἐχόντων. Thid. 28. C: τὸν θεὸν ἐλέγομέν που τὸ μὲν ἄπειρον δεῖξαι τῶν ὄντων, τὸ δὲ πέρας. The latter is also called, 98 E, and 26 B, πέρας ἔχον; and the different kinds of the Limited are (p. 25 D), included under the name περατοειδὲς. Aristotle, like Plato (Metaphysics i. 8, 990 a, 8; xiv. 3, 109] a, 18), has πέρας for what he had called, Metaphysics i. 5, πεπαρασμένον. There is, in fact, no difference between these various appellations; they are all intended to denote the idea of Limitation, which, however, aS a rule, is apprehended, after the manner of the ancients, as concrete, and might be expressed either actively or passively, either as Limiting or Limited, for that which limits another by its admixture with it must in itself be something Limited (cf. Plato, Tim. 35 A, where the indivisible substance as such is the binding and limiting principle). Ritter’s observations, impugning the authenticity of Aristotle’s expressions (Pyth. Phil. 116 sqq.), are, therefore, hardly well founded. Nor is it of any consequence that in the above quotation sometimes numbers, sometimes the constituents of number (the Limited and Unlimited), and sometimes (as we shall see further on) the unity of these elements, Harmony, are mentioned as the ground and substance of things; for if all things consist of numbers, all things must necessarily be composed of the universal elements of number—the Limited and Unlimited; and as these elements only constitute number in their harmonic combination, all things are likewise Harmony, cf. pp. 369, 1; 370, 2; 384, 1. Lastly, if Böckh (Philol. 56 sq.) objects to the exposition cf Aristotle that odd and even numbers must not be confounded with the Unlimited and the Limited, because being determined they all participate in Unity and are limited; and Brandis, on the other hand, conjectures (i. 452) that the Pythagoreans sought for the Limiting principle in uneven numbers, or gnomic numbers (which are also uneven numbers) or in the decad,* we may reply that the Even and the Odd are not the same as odd and even number; the latter is necessarily and always determinate; the former are constituents of all numbers, whether even or odd, and so far are identical with the Limited and Unlimited.
* {Ed. note: The decad is the number ten; in a Pythagorean or cabalistic sense, as an element of the universe, the tetractys or quaternary number.}

With |380| this proposition is connected the following observation: that everything unites in itself opposite characteristics. These characteristics they tried to reduce to the fundamental opposition of the limited and the unlimited, odd and even. The limited and the uneven was.held, however, by the Pythagoreans, in agreement with the popular belief, as the better and more perfect, the unlimited and the even as the imperfect. 1 Wherever, therefore, they perceived opposite qualities, they regarded the better as limited or uneven, and the worse as unlimited and even. Thus, according to them, all things were divided into two categories, of which one was on the side of the limited, and the other on that of the unlimited. 2

1 Vide next note, and Aristotle Eth. Ν. ii. 5, 1106 b, 29: τὸg γὰρ κακὸν τοῦ ἀπείρου, ὡς οἱ Πυθαγόρειοι εἴκαζον, τὸ δ’ ἀγαθὸν τοῦ πεπερασμένου. It will be shown further on that among the Greeks and Romans odd numbers were considered more lucky than even.
2 Aristotle Eth. N. i. 4, 1096 b, 5: πιθανώτερον δ᾽ ἐοίκασιν οἱ Πυθαγόρειοι λέγειν περὶ αὐτοῦ [τοῦ ἑνὸς]. τιθέντες ἐν τῇ τῶν ἀγαθῶν συστοιχίᾳ τὸ ἕν. Metaphysics xiv. 6, 1098 b, 11 (on Pythagoreans and Academics with Pythagorean tendencies): ἐκεῖνο μέντοι ποιοῦσι φανερὸν, ὅτι τὸ εὖ ὑπάρχει καὶ τῆς συστοιχίας ἐστὶ τῆς τοῦ καλοῦ τὺ περιττὸν, τὸ εὐθὺ, τὸ ἴσον, αἱ δυνάμεις ἐνίων ἀριθμῶν, not to mention later writers, such as Ps. Plutarch V. Hom. 145.

The number of these categories was then more precisely fixed by the sacred number ten, |381| and the ten fundamental oppositions were as follows: 1. Limited and Unlimited; 2. Odd and Even; 3. One and Many; 4. Right and Left; 5. Masculine and Feminine; 6. Rest and Motion; 7. Straight and Crooked; 8. Light and Darkness; 9. Good and Evil; 10. Square and Oblong. 1 It is true that this classification belongs only to a portion of the Pythagoreans, who were probably later members of the school; 2

1 Aristotle Metaphysics i. δ, 986 a, 22 (directly after the quotation on p. 379, 1): ἕτεροι δὲ τῶν αὐτῶν τούτων τὰς ἀρχὰς δέκα λέγουσιν εἶναι τὰς κατὰ συστοιχίαν (in two series directly opposed to one another, the Good and the Evil) λεγομένας, πέρας καὶ ἄπειρον, περιττὸν καὶ ἄρτιον, ἐν καὶ πλῆθος, δεξιὸν καὶ ἀριστερὸν, ἄῤῥεν καὶ θῆλυ, ἠρεμοῦν καὶ κινούμενον, εὐθὺ καὶ καμπύλον, φῶς καὶ σκότος, ἀγαθὸν καὶ κακὸν, τετράγωνον καὶ ἐτερόμηκες. That the Pythagoreans derived motion from the Unlimited is also asserted by Eudemus, ap. Simplicius Physics 98 b: Πλάτων δὲ τὸ μέγα καὶ τὸ μικρὸν καὶ τὸ μὴ ὃν καὶ τὸ ἀνώμαλον καὶ ὅσα τούτοις ἐπὶ ταὐτὸ φέρει τὴν κίνησιν λέγει… βέλτιον δὲ αἴτια [sc. τῆς κινήσεως] λέγειν ταῦτα ὥσπερ Ἀρχύτας, καὶ μετ᾽ ὀλίγον τὸ δ᾽ ἀόριστόν, φησι, καλῶς ἐπὶ τὴν κίνησιν οἱ Ἰπυθαγόρειοι καὶ ὃ Πλάτων ἐπιφέρουσιν, etc. Brandis (i. 451; Rhein-Museum ii. 221) concludes from this passage that Archytas referred motion to the Limiting; but he is deceived by the expression, αἴτιον, which, in any case, should be completed by τῆς κινήσεως, even if we adopt his reading, αἴτιον λέγειν ὥσπερ ’Apxvtas. (In the Gesch, der Entw. der Griech. Phil. i. 169, he has modified his view of this passage. He must, however, have somewhat forgotten his previous utterances, for he says: ‘That Archytas referred motion to the Unlimited I still maintain, in spite of Zeller’s objection.’) This derivation of motion we also find in Aristotle Physics iii. 2, 201 b, 20: ἔνιοι ἑτερότητα καὶ ἀνισότητα καὶ τὸ μὴ ὃν φάσκοντες εἶναι τὴν κίνησιν, which Simplicius Physics 98 ἃ, b, and Philop. Physics i. 16, connect with the Pythagoreans, and Plato agrees with them, cf. Part ii. a, 808, 1. There is all the less reason to contest the assertion of Eudemus (with Chaignet, v. 146), since, according to Alcmaeon, the gods and the stars are always moving (vide infra), and the soul, too, is in constant motion. The ceaselessness of this motion, the fact that, as Alcmaeon says, it connects the beginning with the end, might be considered a perfection, even though motion itself were an imperfection; it shows that the heavenly bodies themselves consist of the Limiting and Unlimited. Röth’s statement (Philol. Fragm., περὶ ψυχῆς, 21) that in the table of the ten opposites it is only motion externally produced, which is placed on the side of the ἄπειρον, is entirely groundless.
2 Chaignet ii. 50 sq. questions this, because, according to Aristotle (vide infra ὃ vii.) Alcmaeon had already admitted the ten oppositions, ‘tels que nous venons de les exposer.’ But Aristotle asserts, as is quite obvious, not that Alcmaeon admitted the ten opposites, but that, in agreement with the Pythagoreans, he assumed human life to be ruled by oppositions; which, however, he did not like them reduce to fixed and definite categories. Aristotle, in short, asserts pretty nearly the contrary of what Chaignet finds in him.