Front matter
JOURNAL OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY.
ART. V. — The Book of the Apple, ascribed to Aristotle. Edited in Persian and English by D. S. Margoliouth.
A pseudo-Aristotelian treatise
A pseudo-Aristotelian treatise called de pomo et morte incliti principis philosophorum Aristotelis has been printed several times in Europe, the earliest editions being without place or date. This work is a Latin translation of a Hebrew tract bearing the name “The Book of the Apple,” the translator being (ob. 1266), or, as suggests, a Jew employed by him. The Hebrew text professes to be a translation from the Arabic made by , an author who flourished at the end of the thirteenth century. There are MSS. of ’s work in the Vatican and at Oxford, and it has been repeatedly printed, first at Venice, 1519. It was republished with a new Latin translation and a copious but irrelevant commentary by , at Giessen, in 1706. A German translation was issued by at Lemberg, 1873, and an English translation by Kalischer at New York, 1885. An edition with a brief Hebrew commentary is said to have been produced by J. Lichtstein (Grodno, 1799).
The Arabic work which served as the basis of the Hebrew translation is not known to be in existence, nor is it noticed by the Arabic bibliographers, although reference is made to it in the encyclopedic work . The Persian translation, however, which is here printed for the first time from a Bodleian MS. will probably make up for the loss, and will show that the Hebrew translation is a very unfaithful abridgment, in which the original purpose of “The Book of the Apple” is entirely obscured.
That the Persian is more faithful than the Hebrew is proved by the fact that a quotation made from the Arabic by an author of the thirteenth century, and discovered by , corresponds exactly with a passage in the Persian, but has nothing corresponding to it in the Hebrew.
The passage runs as follows in the Arabic :
لا سمع اذا علم المتعلم الا من قبل الفلاسفة ولا بصر ناظر الامن قبل المصباح وقال لا تقبل النفس الفلسفة الا بصحة من طبيعته ولا ينفذ بصر البصير الا بضوء المصباح فاذا اجتمع نفذ
In the Persian as follows (l. 182 sqq.) :
پس آموزنده الا از جهت حکمت نتواند آموخت ونݣرنده الا ازچراغ نتواند نݣرید ارسطو ݣفت نفس پذیای حکمت نشود الا بدرستی که طبع او بود وبینش بیننده ݣذر نیابد الا بچراغ چون اینهمه بهم آید بݣذرد
It has been the custom to assume that the author of the work was a Jew, although suggested that he was a Christian. The passage from which these inferences were chiefly drawn was that in which Noah and Abraham are mentioned, a passage which does not occur in the Persian, and is therefore an interpolation. It would have been as reasonable to argue from it that the author was a Muhammadan, for the Qorʾan is quoted there, although the quotation is concealed in ’ edition by a gross mistranslation. The original work as represented by the Persian bears no trace of a Jewish origin.
It is not probable that the book ever existed in Greek: not only is there no vestige of any mistranslation of a Greek text, but also many of the phrases which cannot be banished from the argument show the influence of the Qorʾan; such are ثواب and الآخرة, الملا الاعلى, عقاب. The expression “to mortify one self before death” seems borrowed from a tradition of the Prophet. On the other hand, the author must have possessed some acquaintance with Greek works. The passage in which Kriton warns Aristotle against making himself warm by talking is borrowed from the Phaedo of (p. 63 d, e). From the same dialogue comes the discussion upon suicide (p. 62). The saying attributed to “Hermes,” and quoted from ’s “Metaphysics” (?), is not unlike the opinion of explained in that work. The names Simmias and Kriton are borrowed from the Phaedo; Zeno and Diogenes from some history of philosophy; the source of Pindar and Lysias is less obvious. A Greek writer, choosing names for the interlocutors in a dialogue, would probably have chosen those of real disciples of . In this respect ’s text, which gives Aristoxenus as an interlocutor, is an improvement.
The author's purpose is philosophical, not religious. The last stage in the argument proves that philosophy is revealed through a chain of prophets, of whom the first was Hermes, who obtained his knowledge from the angels. Since the pseudo-Sabæans of Harran regarded Hermes as the founder of their religion, and adopted the neo-Platonic idea of angel-mediators, and since some of the most distinguished of the Arabic philosophers and translators of Greek philosophy emanated from this sect, it may be suggested that one of these Sabæans was the author of our treatise.
Many philosophical problems are discussed in the dialogue, but the various conclusions are ingeniously dovetailed into the leading argument, which may be briefly analyzed as follows:
The world of things is to be divided into knowledge and ignorance, and that to which they lead. Knowledge embraces both subject and object; the relation of the intelligent soul to philosophy being illustrated by that of the eye to the sunlight; while the relation of knowledge to virtue — all virtues being reducible to one — is similar to that of ice to water. Ignorance embraces all that is opposed to knowledge: this is, in the first place, the body and its passions; in the second place, the whole material world. If it be argued that the passions belong to the soul and not the body, since they disappear with the soul from the body, we answer, that they are an accidental result of the union. That they are not a necessary property of the soul is shown by the fact that the souls of the true philosophers are free from them. The existence of a result — i.e. a future world in which knowledge and ignorance are requited — is proved mainly by an argumentum ad hominem. Knowledge is incompatible with the enjoyment of the pleasures of this world, which are a hindrance to it. Yet the philosopher must pursue knowledge with some object — he who doubts this is asked why he doubts, if not for some object; and since that object is not to be realized in this world, it must be realized in another. That the future world will be like this in respect of the division into knowledge and ignorance may be argued from the analogy of the present. That knowledge and ignorance there will be respectively assigned to knowledge and ignorance is proved by reductio ad absurdum.
If, therefore, the future world is like this in respect of the division, since knowledge constitutes the happiness of the soul, and the power of acquiring knowledge increases as the bodily humours diminish, when finally freed from those humours the soul will have an unlimited power of acquiring knowledge and become perfectly happy. To the question why in that case suicide should not be committed, the answer of Socrates in the Phaedo must be given.
Although the dialogue is not free from obvious fallacy and self-contradiction, its ingenuity is no less apparent than the elegance of the Persian translator's style.
Of this argument the Hebrew translator has misunderstood or omitted almost every step, substituting for it much foreign matter, chiefly consisting in commonplaces of mediæval scholasticism about the three souls, the four principles, etc., and some legends embodied in the Qorʾan. On the other hand, his answer to the question why suicide is not commendable is more original: any one who had reached the eminence of Abraham would be justified in perpetrating that act; but the ordinary philosopher needs time in which to perfect himself. The same reason is assigned by the commentators on the Qorʾan for the precept “slay not yourselves.”
The title, “Book of the Apple,” has been adopted from the quotations in and the Uri MS.; I have not ventured to translate it into Persian. The Hebrew translator evidently thought the Apple was not given sufficient prominence in the dialogue, and endeavoured to supply this defect. Vague conjectures about this "Apple" are made by Losius in his notes ; Fabricius in bis Bibliotkeca gives some more useful information. The Persian text has been re-collated with the MS. (which is almost entirely without diacritic points, and in a difficult hand) and the translation revised by Mr. J. T. Platts, teacher of Persian in the University of Oxford, who, however, is not responsible for any errors that may remain. The editor begs to tender him sincerest thanks for his kindness, and also to .the Council of the Royal Asiatic Society for allowing this work to appear in their Journal.
Remarks on the Arabic version of the Metaphysics of Theophrastus
The MS. from which this text has been copied (Ouseley 95) bearing the title “Translations from Greek Philosophers,” among others, contains a variety of interesting matter, which has been catalogued by with his ordinary thoroughness. Perhaps the only tract in the Miscellany which can properly be called a translation of a Greek philosophical work is No. xvi., consisting of four torn leaves which originally contained an Arabic translation of the fragment of ordinarily known as his Metaphysics. We learn from 's authorities that (ob. 363 a.h. = 973 a.d.) rendered this treatise into Arabic from Syriac; the present translation is probably by him, though it might seem to have come directly from the Greek. Although the MS. is perfect at the commencement — for the obverse page is blank — the copy from which it was made must have contained more; for the present MS. commences in the middle of a sentence, viz. at the word ἑκάτερα, p. 410, l. 15, ed. , p. 308, §2, , p. iv, a. 12, . The fragments — counting any line in which a word or more has been preserved as a whole line; owing to the pages having been torn obliquely, very few of the lines are complete — cover the following portion of 's edition (Bonn, Index Scholarum, 1890–1).
Fol. | 1. U. | iv. a. 12, §2 — v. a. 2, §5, κρείττονι.
2. U. | v. b. 11, §9, ἐπιζητήσειεν — vi. a. 19, §11, Ἀρχύτας.
3. U. | vi. a. 19, §11 — vii. a. 16, §15, λαμβάνουσιν.
4. U. | viii. a. 8, §17, πῶς ποτε — viii. b. 21, §20, ἰδίων.
5. U. | viii. b. 21 — i. b. 11, § 25, δυνάμεθα.
6. U. | x. a. 25, §28, ἄρξασθαι — xi. a. 10, § 31, οἰσοφάγου.
7. U. | xi. a. 10 — end.
The following passage, which is fairly well preserved, will serve as a specimen of the translation (cf. U. p. xi. a. 2, § 31).
فان لم یکن هذه من قبل شی قصد به الامر الافضل فقد ینبغی ان نقف على حدودها ولا نضع هذا القول على جمیع الاشیاء مطلقا وذلک ان هذه الاشیاء کانه [کانّ read] القول فیها یمیل الى الجهتین اذا قیلت على الاطلاق واذا قیلت على واحد واحد اعنی بالقول على الاطلاق ان الطبیعة فی کل شی تتشوق الى الافضل وانها فیها جحتمج ذلک تفیده النظام والدوام وکذلک یجری الامرء . . والحیوانات وذلک انها حیث یمکن . . . لیس تقصر فی موضع من المواضع ومثال ذلک ان الحنجرة جعلت من مقدم المری . . . . وکذلک جعل . . . . . کانت الشهوة تجری هذا المجری الا انه قد یظهر ان ما لا ئواتیها ولا یقبل الامر الافضل کثیر بل هو اکثر کثیرا مما یقبله وذلک ان ذا النفس قلیل قما لا نفس لا ولا یحصی کثرة واسرع تکونا مما له نفس واجود وجودا وبالجملة فان الجید یسیر وفی اشیاء یسیرة والردی کثیر العدد وخروج هذا عن الحد فقط هو بمنزلة ما یکون فی طبیعة غایة الجهل فان الذین تکلموا فی الجواهر باسره مثل سپوسیپس جعلوا الشریف فی الموضع الوسط ینبغي فاما افلاطون وشیعة فوثاغورس فانهم باعدوا الامر بعدا کثیرا بما راوه
Translation: “And if these things are not because of anything in which the better was intended, then it is necessary that we should understand its limits and not assert this proposition of everything absolutely. For in these things the statement as it were sways to two sides, when they are stated absolutely, and when they are stated individually. I mean by the absolute statement, that nature in everything desires the better, and that she, wherever possible, bestows order and persistence. The same is the case with . . . and animals. For where it is possible . . . she does not fail in any single place. An example of that is how the throat is placed in front of the œsophagus . . and likewise there is placed . . . The desire follows the same course; only it appears that what does not obey it nor accept the better matter is abundant, nay, it is far more abundant than what does accept it. For that which is possessed of soul is of small number, whereas what has no soul is innumerable and comes quicker into existence than what has a soul, and is better in existence. And in general the good is little and in few things; and the bad large in number. And the fact that this only exceeds limit is like what is in the nature of the extremity of folly. For those who talked of substance as a whole like Speusippus made the honourable in the middle place small and rare, whereas the extremes on either side of the middle are according to them as they should be. Plato and the Pythagoreans however carried the matter very far in what they held.”
It is to be regretted that the passage breaks off here.
The following readings would seem to be of some interest (cf. , Rheinisches Museum, xvi. 264 sqq.).
iv. a. 16, §2, ὥσπερ καὶ τὰ ἀίδια τῶν φθαρτῶν: the beginning of the line is lost; the Arabic, however, has
كتقدم الاشياء الازلية للاشياء القابلة للفساد
like the priority of eternal things to things which are corruptible.
iv. a. 20, §3, οὔθ’ ὅλως ἀξιόχρεα φαίνεται παντός:
ولا هی فی الجملة مما جحتاج اليه وينتفع به فی الكل
nor are they altogether such as are needed or can be useful in all or on the whole. This would represent πάντως.
23, αὐτὰ δὲ δι’ αὑτῶν οὐδεμίαν ἔχει φύσιν:
انما هی بمنزلة ما نخترعه فنضعه وضعا واما هي فی انفسها فليست لهل طبيعة قائمة
They are merely likely what we invent and set up ourselves, and as for them in themselves, they have not any abiding nature.
Owing to the loss of the preceding words, it is difficult to say whether ἔχει or ἔχειν was read; nor can we be sure that abiding was a supplement of the translator.
The next words εἰ δὲ μή, οὐχ ὥστε συνάπτει τοῖς τῆς φύσεως ὥστ’ ἐμποιῆσαι καθάπερ ζωὴν καὶ κίνησιν αὐτοῖς are represented by fragments:
وان لم تكن لهل [طبيـ]ـعة قائمة فليس . . . تتصل . . . [طـ]ـبيعة حتى تحدث فيها حياة وحركة مثلا
And if they have no permanent nature; the stroke that remains of the last word seems to me to point to يمكنها ان [they cannot] be connected with the [things appertaining to] nature so as to create in them life and motion as it were.
This would be in favour of the conjecture οἷα τε for ὥστε (Hoffmann). The Arabic continues:
وذلک ان العدد نفسه فضلا عن غيره وهو الذی يعتقد [فيه النا]س انه . . . . طـ . . . [طبـ]ـيعة قائمة وان كان ههنا جوهر ما اخر اشد تقدما وفضلا فقد ينبغی ان نروم القول فيه هل هو واحد فی العدد [او وا]حد فی النوع او واحد فی الجنس والاولی اذا كانت طبيعتها طبيعة مندا ان يكون وجودها فی اشياء كثيرة زايدة اللهم الا ان تكون الائل وجودها
for even number itself, much less anything else, which people believe . . . . has not an abiding [nature]. And if there be here any other substance of greater priority and excellence, we should endeavour to speak about it, whether it be one in number or [one] in species or one in genus. And it is most probable, since its nature is the nature of a beginning, that its existence is in many, abundant things, unless the first parts of its existence . . . .
p. v. a, §5, ἡ κυκλικὴ κίνησις. ’s insertion of the word κίνησις; is distinctly confirmed by the corresponding fragment,
هی طبيعة السوب [التشوق read] التی عنها تكون حركة الدور
the nature οf . . . from which there comes the circular motion.
v. b. 18, §10, ὥσπερ ἄδεκτόν τι καὶ ἀσύνθετον εἶναι.
Arab. fragment غير قابل ولا محتمل للارتباط
not receiving nor enduring to be tied together.
This confirms ’s conjecture ἀσύνδετον which the Arabic exactly represents.
v. b. 23, συμβαίνει γὰρ οἷον κατὰ συμβεβηκός κτλ.
كانها عرض لزمها عن الحركة الدورية
it is like an accident which attends her from the circular motion.
The words καὶ εἰς τοῦς τόπους μεταβολάς were omitted by the translator.
U. v. b. 27, κάλλιον ἄν τι παρὰ τοῦ πρώτου δέοι τῆς κυκλοφορίας κτλ.
فقد يحتاج من ال . . . . . . . م سی يلى الوسط الى شی هو افضل من الحركة الدورية
It would require . . . . . . . which comes near the middle something better than the circular motion.
vi. a. 14, §11, καὶ τοῦτο μὲν ὥσπερ ἑτέρων λόγων κτλ.
واخلق لقائل ان يقول ان الكلام فی هذا المعنی ليس هذا موضعه لكن ليت شعری للانسان ان يعتقد من هذا المبدا او من هذه انما . . . ثم ينقطع
And it is fitter for the speaker [i.e. any one] to say that this is not the place for the discussion of this subject. Only would I knew whether a man should believe from this beginning or from these beginnings or from the rest of the beginnings existing together at one time.
conjectured in l. 17 ἄλλων ἀρχῶν, which is perhaps confirmed.
vi. b. 3, §12, χρόνον δ’ ἅμᾳ καὶ οὐρανόν.
These words occur at the end of a line in the Arabic والزمان مع السماء which is not therefore in favour of ’s athetesis.
vi. b. 5, οὐδεμίαν ἔτι ποιοῦνται μνείαν,
لم يذكروه اصلا فضلا عن ان يشرعوا فيه
they did not mention them at all, not to speak of dealing with them; شرع is used below for ἅπτεσθαι.
vi. b. 10, §13, Πλάτων μέν — μόνον:
[واما] افلاطون فانه عند رده الى المنادی قد يظن انه قد شرع فی سائر الاشياء بانه رد الاشياء [الى] الصور الى الاعداد وترقی من الاعداد الى المبادی فلما اخذ فی الكلام فی التولد بلغ الى الصور
As for Plato, when reducing [things] to the beginnings he might be thought to have dealt with the rest of things, inasmuch as he reduced things to the forms and the forms to the numbers and ascended from the numbers to the beginnings; and when he began to discuss generation he reached the forms.
This does not seem in favour of ’s emendation κατἀγειν for κατά.
vii. a. 15, § 15. The words على ما قال اروس according as Heraclitus said appears as a solitary fragment. But the word يستعملون for λαμβάνουσιν shows that read the following paragraph.
viii. b. 4, §18, καὶ μέλανα ἐν αὐτοῖς: the remnant of a line begins الاسود فيها the black in them.
§§19 and 20 are fairly well preserved in the Arabic.
viii. b. 24, §20, ὅλως is represented by the Arabic بالجملة in general.
viii. b. 26, §20, οἷον ἀριθμοῖς ζῴοις φυτοῖς:
بمنزلة ما يقال فی الاعداد وفی الخطوطـ الخ
like that which is said about numbers and about lines, etc.
’s conjecture (Rh.M. p. 274) that ἐν should be inserted seems confirmed.
viii. b. 27, §20, τέλεος δ’ ἑ ἐξ ἀμφοῖν ἔστιν δ’ ἔνια (ἔνθα ) τῶν μὴ καθόλου τέλος κτλ:
والمعرفة الكاملة هی من الامور الكلية كالغاية والمقصود اليها [اليه read] فان السبب انما وجوده فی هذه وهی من الامور الجزئية بقدر القسمة الى اشخاص
And perfect knowledge is in respect of universal things like the end and the goal; for the existence of the cause is in these only; but in respect of particular things it is to the extent of the division into individuals.
The translator might seem to have read τέλος δὲ τῶν μὲν καθόλου τέλος, τῶν δὲ ἐν μέρει.
ix. a. 7, §21, διὰ πλείστου δὲ τὸ κατ’ ἀναλογίαν:
’s conjecture τῷ is distinctly confirmed:
الا ان اكثر ما يقف [نقف .l] به على ذلک بالمقايسة
except that most of what we understand it by is by analogy.
ix. a, 14, §22, τὰ ἐν ἀρχῇ καὶ τὰ ἑπόμενα:
وما من هذه فی المبادی وما منها لواحق
and what of these things are in the beginnings and what of them are following.
ix. b. 1, § 24, τοῖς πλεοναχῶς λεγομένοις ἤ καὶ τοῦτ’ ἄπορον.
الاشياء التی تقال من جهات شتی ولعل هذه . . . . .
the things which are said in different ways; and perhaps this.
x. l. 4, §29, ἧ αἳ μὲν ἐν αὐτῇ τῇ κτλ.
The words وكذلک نسل عما and likewise we shall ask concerning what, correspond with the beginning of this sentence; after a loss of two-thirds of a line then follows ـ [اشـ]ـياء اخر ليست باليسيرة other things not a few = x. b. 6, καὶ ἕτερα οὐκ ὀλίγα. must have either read the passage bracketed by , or some substitute for it.
x. b. 12, §29, κινήσει καὶ παραιωρήσει is rendered فی الحركة والا ستقلال, the first of which represents κινήσει.
x. b. 13, § 29. The sentence καὶ ὥς ἔνια — τοιαῦτα is omitted.
x. b. 16, §30. The words καὶ τὸ μέγιστον δὴ καὶ μάλιστα δοκοῦν are rendered:
واعظم ما يدخل الشک فيه من ذلک واخصه له
the greatest point of this into which the doubt enters and the point to which it especially belongs.
x. b. 19, §30, εἴπερ τούτων χάριν: Arab. من اجل شئ on account of anything, confirming Usener’s conjecture του χάριν. The last word is almost obliterated, but can from the diacritic points have been nothing else.
The next sentence is
وللانسان ايضا ان يبحث من امر النبات بل من امر الانفس عن السبب الذی له صار
and a man may also inquire, concerning plants, nay, concerning the souls [read the soulless] of the cause for which there became . .
For p. xi. a. 1, §31 to xi. b. I, § 33 see above. The place would have corresponded to μιμεῖσθαι γ’ ἐθέλειν ἅπαντα is unfortunately obliterated; the word which remains is apparently يتقبله will receive it. The text contains:
هذا على انهم وضعوا سببها بالتضادّ الاثنوة الغير المحدودة وللواحد يدخل فيه الخروج عن التناهی والنظام
although they made its cause to consist in the contrariety between the infinite dyad and the one, wherein enters infinitude and disorder.
xi. b. 5, § 33, ἄνευ ταύτης: خلوا من تلک يهنی الرداوة free from this, i.e. mischief; similarly after ἑτέρας; a gloss يعنی الخيرورة meaning goodness.
xi. b. 12, ἐξ ἐναντίων γε καὶ ἐν ἐναντίοις οὖσαν.
έν was added by ; must have read it, as appears from the rendering
من قبل انه من اشياء متضادة وفی اشياء متضادة
since it is of contraries and in contraries.
xi. b. 15, §34, οὔτε γὰρ τὸ βέλτιον οὔτε τὸ τινὸς χάριν:
فان هذه تقصد . . . الافضل وان جعلت من . . . ويبعث اماما ضروريا
for these things intend . .. the better, and if they are regarded . .
The MS. represented by was clearly better than any existing.
Although the amount to be obtained from these fragments is not as great as might be wished, it is still interesting to find them confirm some scholars’ conjectures.
No. xxiii. Plato’s de legibus is of course wholly spurious; the passages quoted by show this.
The Book of the Apple
This is the translation of a discourse which Aristotle delivered at the time of bis death. It is said that when the life of the sage Aristotle approached its end, some of his disciples came to see him. When they saw the emaciation of his frame, and his weakness, and perceived about him the signs of death, they despaired of his life; only the joy, alacrity, and clearness of intellect that they perceived in him showed them that he took a different view of his condition from that which was taken by others. Then one of the disciples said to him: Our grief over you is greater than your grief over yourself, and we are more vexed than you concerning your departure; if it be that you feel otherwise than we feel about you, tell us also of this. — Aristotle said: The joy that you perceive in me does not arise from my cherishing any desire for life, but from my confidence about my condition after death. — A disciple named Simmias said: If you have this confidence, it were better that you should explain the ground of it to us also, that we may be as certain as you. — Aristotle said: Although it is difficult for me to talk, still for your sake I will endure some trouble: but first let me bear Kriton, for I can see that he wishes to say something. — Kriton said: Although I should much like to hear your conversation, and acquire knowledge thereby, O teacher of mankind, the physician whom you employ commanded me not to induce you to talk, on the ground that talking would make you warm, and should the heat get the better of you the cure would be delayed, and the effect of the drugs impeded. — Aristotle said: I will disobey
the advice of the physician, and will employ no drug but the scent of an apple; which will keep me alive till I have given you the lecture to which you have a right. Why should I not speak, when the best thing I hope to obtain from the drugs is the power to speak? Come now, tell me, Do you grant the excellence of wisdom or not? They answered: Our only reason for honouring wisdom is the fact that we know it to excel other things. — Aristotle said: Is its excellence in this world or in the next? — They said: We do not deny the excellence of wisdom, and necessity forces us to place its excellence and value in the next world. — Aristotle: Then why do you abhor death and adhere to the notion that some detriment will accrue to you therefrom, when you ought to perceive that death, horrible as it is to the vulgar, is nevertheless nothing but the freeing of the soul from its bodily case? — Disc.: How so? Let us know more. — Aristotle: Does the knowledge which you have acquired make you glad or not? And does the knowledge which has escaped you make you sorry or not? — Disc.: The former is true in both cases. — Aristotle: Through which then do you acquire knowledge — through the body, which is a blind, deaf, impotent, and useless mass when the spirit departs from it, or by the spirit whereby a man is continually rendered capable of learning, seeing, knowing and speaking, so long as it is with him? — Disc.: Doubtless through the vitality and goodness of the spirit knowledge is acquired, and by the dullness of the body it is kept out of it. — Aristotle: Since then it is clear that knowledge is a product of the spirit, and that the dullness of the body keeps it out, and that by the acquisition of knowledge you become glad, whereas by being precluded from it you become sorry, evidently you must prefer the separation of the spirit from the body to the persistence of the spirit in the body; and separation from the body must be better for the spirit than abiding in the body. Do you not see that the desires and delights of the body such as women and children and wealth and eating and drinking still more impede the search after wisdom? and that when you abandon those lusts you do so in order to protect the intellect and to devote yourselves to knowledge? — Disc.: Certainly. — Aristotle. — Then, since you confess that lusts have the power to damage the intellect, surely the body which enjoys those lusts must be more detrimental to the intellect? — Disc.: Our judgment forces us to agree with what your discourse has proved thus far; but what shall we do and how shall we act, in order to become as brave about death as you are, and as regardless of life as you are? — Aristotle: The best means for a seeker of knowledge to attain his end is an effort on the part of the speaker to speak only what is true, and of the hearer to hear correctly. I will now endeavour to speak truly; do you endeavour on your part to hear and receive correctly and truly. Do you not know that the meaning of the word ‘philosophy’ is ‘fondness for wisdom’? and that the mind in its substance and origin is philosophy, and only delights in it, and only obtains peace therefrom? — Disc.: Certainly. — Aristotle: Do you not know that wisdom is the joy of the mind, and that wisdom can be obtained by goodness of soul and mind: now goodness of soul consists in its adjustment, and the adjustment of the mind consists in diminution of phlegm, rheum and blood? — Disc.: Aye. — Aristotle: If the goodness of the mind lie in its adjustment, and its adjustment in the diminution of those humours, when those humours altogether depart, it will become sounder and better? — Disc.: We cannot fail to admit the truth of what you say, but nevertheless we do not find in ourselves the same pleasure in death that we perceive in you. — Aristotle: Since sight guides the seer to his gain and preserves him from harm, try to let me increase your sight as to the advantage of death. O friends of wisdom! do you not see that the seeker after wisdom whose soul has become free from sin has mortified himself before death in respect of friends, and wealth, and empire, for the sake of which men desire the life of this world, and undertaken much sorrow and a heavy burden in seeking wisdom — sorrow so great that it can only be relieved by death? What desire has he for life who enjoys none of the pleasures of life: and why need he flee from death who can only rest in death? Nay! He does wrong, whosoever seeks the name of philosophy without being worthy of its meaning: and he is ignorant who fancies that in the comforts, pleasures and delights of this world the road to philosophy can be found. Can you desire that the name of knowledge should be bestowed on you whilst you are enjoying the pleasures of this world, of eating, drinking, and so on? — Disc.: We have no such desire, nor do we seek any such thing. How could we aspire to be philosophers while caring for this world, when we have seen that whenever there has been any excess in food or drink, or there manifests itself in the heart any motion of something contrary to the intellect, such as lust, or anger, or covetousness, or envy, the intellect remains inactive all that time; whereas, if that motion come not into play, then the blood only is at work, and there is nothing which serves better to protect it, and from which protection is more sought than the intellect. — Aristotle: The branch of a thing does not come but of the root, and the part is not but of the whole. If ye abstain in this world from lusts, but are attached to this world in your heart, your abstinence is not perfect. Now the root of attachment to the world lies in love of self-preservation. Hence every one who abstains from its lusts, but desires to remain in the world has caught the branch and neglected the root; whereas he is perfect and has reached the goal who has both root and branch. — Simmias: I have been abstemious in regard to the pleasures of this world; but now from what I have heard you say, I am anxious to remain in it no longer. Should that not be granted me, at least I shall endeavour to walk in your footsteps, and adopt your way of life, O teacher of mankind! — Kriton: My mind's eye now shows me that there is no one to whom death is not detrimental except the philosopher. Whosoever has attained thereunto and become perfect, let him seek death and desire it; but whoso has failed to attain thereto, let him flee from death his farthest, and avoid it his hardest. For nothing but wisdom withstands death and gives peace from its pain. — Zeno said: Aristotle’s discourse leaves us no right to participate in pleasure or to endeavour to remain in the world, and the fact that he is more courageous about death than I — though I do not fear it very much — comes from his having been at greater pains than I to set his affairs right; had I looked after myself as he has looked after himself, and banished from myself avarice, desire, and anger, as he has banished them from himself, as great courage would be perceptible in me as we perceive in him. — Another said: Until this day I used to dread the approach of death; now what I fear is the protraction of life. — Zeno: You are better able to attain death than to protract life. — He answered: My weariness of life does not induce me to summon death myself, before it comes to me. — Zeno: We have known friends do much to see the friend who has not seen them; if you love death, what prevents your seeking it before it seek you? — He answered: Death is not a friend, but a bridge which men must pass before they can arrive at that which they desire and love. — Zeno: Then why do you remain, although you know for certain that death will make you nobler? — He answered: I am like a guardian of the frontier-pass who, if he abide, abides with regret, and if he advance and conquer, will attain to honour. — Zeno: What is the meaning of your parable? — He said: The soul of the philosopher is stationed at the pass, its pass being the body; on the other side are wants, lusts, and passions. Every soul has sore trouble in dealing with these enemies, and in keeping them away. The glory consists in the joy and pleasure whereto the soul attains at parting. — When their discussion had reached this point, another named Stephanus (?) said: If the name of ‘philosopher’ have no other use than to preserve its owner from the name of ‘ignorant,’ why should I make any effort to obtain it? — Another said: Merely for the sake of honour I would not seek this name. — Zeno: Did I desire this name for nothing else, I should desire it for the sake of obtaining security from the fear and horror of death. — Kriton said: The greatest of the benefits of that science is that it makes for us many cares into one. — Kramas (?) said: Since in this world one thing alone, sorrow, is permanent, the most profitable thing for us to sympathize with is the high aim of one who is concerned about a thing that is everlasting. — Pindar said: All men are at war, and the fittest enemy for the warrior to attack is the enemy nearest home; and that enemy is the trouble of his own breast. — Eletus (Theaetetus ?) said: Who are the philosopher’s enemies? — Pindar said: His most particular enemies are the pleasures of his breast, which hinder his search after wisdom. — When the discourse of these people had reached this point, Simmias, turning to Aristotle, said: Enlighten our hearts with the rays of thy lamp ere its light be quenched, good father! — Aristotle: The most acquisitive of scholars is he who acquires no knowledge until he has disciplined himself and corrected himself; the most accurate of speakers is he who attempts not to speak save after meditation, and the soundest of workers is he who acts only after deliberation. And no one more needs deliberation and caution in carrying out a plan, than the philosopher in undertaking matters of which the trouble is present and the reward prospective. First let him meditate; then, when meditation brings sight, let him make sight his guide to action; and if sight show that the action will be remunerative, then let him endure the trouble of doing before he reaps the fruit. And when after seeing he resolves to undertake the work, at the time when he should reap the fruit he ought not to be vexed at the trouble he has endured. For he who weans his soul from pleasures and undertakes the labour of searching for wisdom for the sake of God, and to gain the reward therefor after death, if at the hour of death he exhibits melancholy, makes himself an object of laughter and derision. So too does he become an object of laughter and derision who makes a feast and lays the foundation of a palace, and when about to attain the purpose of his feast and of the building of his palace becomes sad and gloomy. I have known men who have undertaken this task while in doubt concerning the reward — nor is there any wonder that one who is in doubt concerning the recompense after death should be grieved and sorrowful about dying — but I do wonder at any one who is grieved at death while professing to believe in a recompense after death. — When Aristotle had brought this discourse to a conclusion, Kriton said: If you desire us to be contented after your departure, O worthy teacher! the eloquent speech which you have made must increase our sorrow at your departure; and if death be profitable to you, to us it is most detrimental, on account of the unsolved difficulties remaining among us for which you were our refuge. — Diogenes said: The same thing cannot be profitable to one thing and detrimental to another unless there be some contrariety between the two latter; if Aristotle's departure be profitable to himself and detrimental to us, this must be because of some difference between us. — Kriton: There is both agreement and diversity between us and him; we agree in our wish and desire, and differ about our remaining and his departure. — Diogenes: Your grief comes not of his being about to enter the house of honour, but rather of your remaining in the abode of disgrace. — Lysias said: You both speak well. You were the pillars of a hall wherein were lamps; the greatest pillar has fallen, and the weight has come upon the other pillars; the most brilliant lamp is extinguished, the light in the hall is diminished, and the darkness increased. Nor is it the falling of the pillar nor the extinction of the lamp that troubles you; but rather the darkness of the hall and the weight of the roof. — Simmias, glancing at Aristotle, said: O guide to wisdom! tell us what is the first thing which it behoves the seeker after wisdom to acquire? — Aristotle: Seeing that the soul is the source of wisdom, the first knowledge which is profitable for him is knowledge of the soul. — Simmias: How should he seek it? — Aristotle: By his own virtue. — Simmias: What is his own virtue? — Aristotle: That virtue whereby you asked me about yourself. — Simmias: How is it possible for any one to ask any one else about himself? — Aristotle: Even as the sick man asks the physician about himself, and even as the blind man might ask those about him of his own colour. — Simmias: How can the self be blind about the self, when the self is the source of all sight? — Aristotle: When wisdom is secreted and concealed in the self, that is the soul, it is blind to itself, and to others alike: even as the eye without the light of a lamp is blind both to itself and others. — Simmias: Then the learner can only learn through wisdom, and the seer can only see with a lamp. — Aristotle: The soul becomes capable of receiving wisdom only by its natural correctness, and the sight of the seer becomes penetrating only through a lamp. When the two come together, it can penetrate. — Simmias: If the soul and the eyes cannot attain brightness in their functions by their own virtue, unaided by wisdom and the lamplight, then nothing is nearer akin to the soul than wisdom. — Aristotle: How can anything be nearer akin to that which it takes in than its own source? Do you not see that the teacher has a better right to the name of knowledge than the taught? and that the possessor of force has a better title to the name of force than one who is acquiring it? For the teacher is the source of knowledge, seeing that knowledge flows from him, and the strong is the source of strength. — When the discourse reached this point, Lysias said: This subject is finished, and I will now begin afresh. Tell me how it is that knowledge of the soul is the worthiest thing for the acquirer to acquire first? — Aristotle: Because knowledge is an essential property of teacher and taught. — Lysias: How am I to know that knowledge is a property of the soul? — Aristotle said: Because knowledge is in the body only so long as the soul is in it; and when the soul is separated from the body, knowledge disappears from it. — Lysias: It may come from the body rather than the soul. — Aristotle: If it were of the body, it would appear in the dead body as much as in the living body. — Lysias: We are as ignorant of the knowledge of the dead, as we are of their ignorance. May it be that the ignorance of it which we do not know may come from the fact that the soul is departed from it? — Aristotle: If ignorance be blindness to one’s own concerns, then the ignorance and blindness of the body before death are even more evident than its ignorance after death. — Lysias: Though the ignorance of blindness may be in the body after death, the ignorance of:folly is not there assuredly. — Aristotle: What is the difference between the ignorance of blindness and the ignorance of folly? — Lysias: Wherein is the identity? — Aristotle: The two are identical in that they both afflict people of understanding. As for the ignorance of folly, it is like badness and evil-doing and evil-speaking; and as for the ignorance of blindness, it is like an evil smell and the fetid matter whence it proceeds. — Lysias: I only know of the existence of foulness and sensuality while the soul is in the body: can it be that this foulness proceeds from the soul and not from the body? — Aristotle: If foul habits were of the original essence of the soul, while the soul was abstracted from accidental states, this foulness would appear in every soul, and no soul would be without it; how then could we have learned that the philosopher’s soul is free from foulness, and uncleanness? Whereas we have learned and know well that the purity of their souls has gained the upper hand over lust and overcome desire and passion. They have subdued these inclinations and harmonized lust with reason. — Lysias: If then between lust and the soul there be so great a difference, how comes it that passion and the soul part together from the body? — Aristotle: The soul is a flame, and when some one of the humours of the body prevails, it kindles the body as fire kindles fuel, and causes the light of the soul to issue from the body even as a fire brings brightness and heat out of wood. And passion is as a fire that brings the brigl1tness of the soul out of the body. — Lysias: Can it be that brightness itself comes from warmth? — Aristotle: If brightness varied with heat, a summer night should be brighter than a winter day, even as a summer night. is warmer than a winter day. — When the dialogue had reached this point, Lysias said: You have enlivened my mind, O teacher! this discourse is worthy of deep consideration. Most assuredly I must endeavour to distinguish between soul and passion, the heat of the latter and the brightness of the former. You have made clear to me each of the two, passion and the body, and the distinction of the soul from both, according to their attributes. Now, I would have you show the distinction between the conduct of the soul and of the passion, even as you have shown the distinction between themselves. — Aristotle: Do you know of any distinction between their functions? — Lysias: I know not of any distinction between their substance, but only between their functions: but I would fain have you show me the difference between the conduct of the one and that of the other by signs clear enough to distinguish the work of the one from that of the other. — Aristotle: All that is bad is the work of the passion and all that is good is the work of the soul. — Lysias: I know the difference between the good conduct of the one and the foul action of the other no better than the difference between their substances. — Aristotle: Good action or goodness is that which, when it comes to you, puts you right; and badness is that which, when it comes to you, does you harm. — Lysias: Nothing has ever come to me which has done good to a part of me but has damaged some other part. How can I call it “good” when I never have found it free from harm? — Aristotle: When the thing that is beneficial benefits that part of you which you are more bound to love than to hate, be not vexed if it harm some part of you which you are more bound to hate than to love. — Lysias: What part of me is it which I am bound to hate, and what, that I am bound to love? — Aristotle: You should love your intellect and hate your unintelligent part. — Lysias: What comes of this? — Aristotle: Why, nothing increases your intellect but that which lessens your non-intelligence. Love therefore that which improves your intellect, even though it lessen your non-intelligence. For the advantage done you by it in decreasing your non-intelligence is not inferior to that done you by the improve of your intellect. — Lysias: You distinguished between soul and passion by your illustration of heat and light; and you showed me the difference of their functions by showing the difference of their origin. I then asked you to make clear to me what they each do by some sign which should sever the work of the one:from the work of the other; you then told me that well-doing was the work of the soul and ill-doing the work of the passion. I asked you the difference between good and bad actions. You answered that whatever increases the intellect is a good action even though non-intelligence is increased by it, and whatever causes decrease of intellect is bad, even though it increase the non-intelligence. Neither intelligence nor non-intelligence is diminished except by its opposite, nor increased except by what agrees with it. Now, I still require an explanation of what it is that increases the intelligence and what it is that lessens it. — Aristotle said: Whatsoever adds brightness to your vision of things increases your intelligence, and whatsoever makes things dark to you lessens it. — Lysias said: What is it that gives them brightness, and what is it that veils them? — Aristotle: Truth-speaking and whatever resembles it is an illuminator, doubt and whatever resembles it a cloke. — Lysias said: I understand how true-speaking illuminates and how doubt darkens; but what are the things which resemble them? — Aristotle: Right-doing or justice resembles true-speaking, and injustice or iniquity resembles falsehood and doubt. — Lysias: In what respect do justice and veracity resemble each other? — Aristotle: Each of them consists in leaving things in their own places. — Lysias: And in what respect do falsehood and injustice resemble each other? — Aristotle: Each consists in removing things from their own places. — Lysias: Justice and injustice are the work of administrators and judges only; whereas I am asking you concerning things in general. — Aristotle: All men are judges, only some private, others public. He whose judgment errs, and whose tongue speaks false, and whosoever appropriates what is not his, such a man is unjust and a liar: whereas he who sees things aright, and whose tongue speaks the truth, and who is satisfied with what is his, is righteous, just, and veracious. Nor is any human action outside the two patterns which we have described. — Lysias: How am I to know that nothing falls out of these two kinds? — Aristotle: Enquire among the events which are passing and have passed over you, whether any of them lies outside these patterns. If none such be found, include those events which have not yet passed over you among those which have passed over you. — Lysias: How am I to include what has not yet happened to me with what has happened, and pass the same judgment upon it? — Aristotle: If the few be part of the many things, and the parts of a thing resemble the whole, then the few things which you see belong to the many things which you do not see, and it is probable that the many things which you do not see are like what you do see. If this reasoning be correct, then you may well pass the same judgment upon the good and evil which have not yet happened to you as upon the good and evil which have happened to you. — Lysias: What should make me judge of the absent as of the present? — Aristotle: That which is present must necessarily make you pass a judgment on what is absent; or the thing which makes you know the absence of the absent from knowing the presence of the present. — Lysias: What prevents my knowing the present without knowing the absent? Or how is my knowledge of the absent increased by my knowledge of the present? That portion of the earth which I see does not show me the portion which is beyond; neither does my not seeing the portion to which my eye cannot reach hinder my seeing the portion which I can see. — Aristotle: But do not you pass judgment that beyond the earth which we see there is the earth which we do not see? Similarly must you not necessarily pass judgment that beyond those events which have happened to you are those which have not happened, even as you passed judgment that beyond the portion of the earth which you saw there was the earth which you did not see? — Lysias: I am constrained to admit that I must judge by the absent of the present. Only tell me this: If I pass no judgment from the present on the absent, does my knowledge of the present suffer any detriment? By knowing which I may derive benefit in judging of the absent from the present. — Aristotle: No one knows a thing who is unable to distinguish it from what differs from it. — Lysias: How so? — Aristotle: If the saying of the wise DARIUS be true, that no one knows the truth who cannot discriminate it from the false, and no one knows what is right who cannot sever it from what is wrong, then so long as you are not acquainted with the absent, you have no means of knowing the present. — Lysias: This subject is over. Now, O guide to philosophy! I would ask you this: Is it possible to embrace in one notion all those things concerning the baseness of which mankind are agreed, fornication, theft, drunkenness, deceit, injustice, treachery, fraud, malice, envy, ignorance, pride, self-complacency, so as to exclude nothing, whereby I might know that the events which have not yet passed over me are like to those which have passed over me? — Aristotle: The possessors of these qualities and characteristics are unjust, false, and self-blinding, insomuch as they strive after what is not theirs. — Lysias: How so? — Aristotle: Do you not see that no one sets about any of these iniquities before avarice, desire, or anger bestir· itself in him, after which he sets about them. Now with avarice, desire, and passion reason cannot remain at peace. And the reason being out of order, it cannot take the right path, and whoso does not take the right path goes astray; he that goes astray is a wrong-doer, and the wrong-doer and the liar are in torment. — Lysias: You have collected under one notion all the vices; could you do the same for the virtues? — Aristotle: To abandon injustice is to adhere to justice and right; and to avoid the false is to strain after the true. If the foulness of the vices has been made clear to you, it must inevitably have been made clear that virtue consists in abandoning vice. — Lysias: Is there any mean between vice and virtue? so that having got rid of vice I might not attain to virtue, but remain at the mean; like one who, abandoning falsehood, stops short at silence and speaks neither truth nor falsehood; or one who avoids iniquity and does neither injustice nor justice? — Aristotle: He who is silent elects to be so either with ignorance or with knowledge; if he be silent with knowledge, he is a speaker of truth; if with ignorance he is a liar. So, too, whoso pauses does so either for fraud or for right; if for right, he is just and righteous; if for fraud, he is iniquitous and a doer of injustice. — Lysias: You have made clear to me the difference between all the good and the bad that may happen to me by a clear distinction, and have proved to me that whatever has not happened to me must resemble what has happened. God, who gave thee wisdom, and who protects thee, give thee therefor a meet reward! Never has father in his lifetime tended his child better, or after death left him a more honourable inheritance! — Aristotle: 1£ you are satisfied with the answer to your questions, let Kriton speak, for I can see that he wishes to do so. — Kriton: It is painful to impose on you the burden of speaking, whereas it is sad to be quiet and leave the subject to be finished on some later day. — Aristotle: Withhold nothing, so long as you see a spark of life in me on which I can sustain myself. — Kriton: I heard and understood all the answers you gave Lysias; and I agreed as he did that the absent is to be known from the present. But I am not quite satisfied without knowing what are the qualities and unknown operations of that “absent” to which I confessed and agreed. — Aristotle: I know of nothing in the present or the absent, save knowledge and ignorance, and the reward of the two. — Kriton: How could I acknowledge this of the “absent and the present,” when I have not yet acknowledged it of the present? And though you should force me to acknowledge it of the present, I will not acknowledge it of the absent, save by definition and evidence. — Aristotle: The evidence which tells you it of the present will also tell it of the absent. — Kriton: What evidence? — Aristotle: Do you not agree that the right way in seeking the truth is what Sokrates said? — Kriton: And what did he say? — Aristotle: I am told that he said, Whenever you are in difficulty about a question, give it two alternatives, one of which must necessarily be true; then proceed till one of the two is refuted, for with the refutation of the one alternative will come the establishment of the other. — Kriton: Yes, I have observed that he acted thus in difficult investigations. Now what evidence have you about the nature of the present and absent? — Aristotle: Do you not grant that there is nothing outside knowledge and its contrary? — Kriton: I must do so. — Aristotle: Do you grant that things are bettered only by their like, and damaged only by what is unlike them? — Kriton: Undoubtedly. — Aristotle: Then do you not see that if the recompense of knowledge be not like it, it must be the contrary of it? And, if it be the contrary of knowledge, then the recompense of the wise will be ignorance, and the recompense of the seeing blindness, and the recompense of well-doing ill-doing? Now such as this would not be a recompense but a punishment. Then whoever bears the burden of knowledge must allow that he will gain no recompense for it. This judgment being false, the opposite of it is true. The recompense for seeing will be sight; for well-doing, good; for seeking wisdom, finding wisdom — Kriton: You have forced me to agree that knowledge will be rewarded and ignorance punished. — Aristotle: l£ you are satisfied that the recompense of the ignorant is the reverse of the recompense of the wise-otherwise the reward of blindness would be sight and that of goodness badness, and that of hating wisdom obtaining wisdom. Now such a view or doctrine must be false in the eyes of him who has borne the labour of pursuing knowledge in the hope of the reward thereof, and in order to avoid the penalty of ignorance. This opinion being proved false makes the opposite necessarily true. — Kriton: This argument applies as forcibly to me, since I have borne the burden of the searcher after knowledge with a view to the reward thereof, and have avoided ignorance fearing its penalty. But what will you say if I withdraw this concession, and deny that knowledge is rewarded and ignorance punished? — Aristotle: Then what induces you to discuss and to argue with me? The desire for the benefit of knowledge and the endeavour to avoid the harm of ignorance or something else? — Kriton: Nay, desire for the benefit of knowledge and the endeavour to avoid the harm of ignorance induce me to do this. — Aristotle: Then you have acknowledged that knowledge is beneficial and ignorance detrimental. Now a reward is not other than beneficial, and a penalty is not other than detrimental. — Kriton: I acknowledge that wisdom is beneficial during life, not after death. — Aristotle: What is the advantage of knowledge during life? A pleasant life or increase of knowledge? — Kriton: I granted the value of knowledge, and I have seen that knowledge is detrimental to the pleasures of life; it necessarily follows that the advantage of knowledge must be in the next world. — Aristotle: If you doubt the benefits accruing to the wise in the next world, while knowledge precludes the enjoyment of this world, it is impossible for you to assert that know· ledge is of value in either world. — Kriton: I see that if I grant that knowledge is beneficial, I must acknowledge that it is so in the next world. I will now deny that it possesses any advantage, in order to be able to deny that it is of advantage in the next world. — Aristotle: Do you not then prefer hearing, seeing, and understanding to blindness, deafness, and folly? — Kriton: Yes. — Aristotle: Do you prefer them for the sake of some advantage or not? — Kriton: For the sake of some advantage. — Aristotle: Once again then you have acknowledged that there is some advantage; and you have the same conclusion forced on you as before. — Kriton: I have ever acknowledged the value of knowledge, so long as I live, in respect of the comfort and peace that I gain from it, and the pain of ignorance that I am freed from; but I know of no other benefit therefrom. — Aristotle: Then is there anything else beyond this which is otherwise than it? — Kriton: What evidence is there that there is anything else beyond this, which exists after death and is as it was in life? — Aristotle: Now death is nothing else h11t the soul surviving the body? — Kriton: It is nothing else. — Aristotle: Then is anything “absent” which is benefited in absence except by that whereby it is also benefited in presence? — Kriton: It must be so. — Aristotle: Then why do you ask what it is from which the soul derives benefit in the state of absence from the body other than that from which it derives benefit in the state of presence? Or, what can harm it in the state of absence that does not harm it likewise in the state of presence? — Kriton: You have left me no loophole to deny the value of knowledge in this world and the next, and the harm of ignorance in both; these I must acknowledge, and I allow that you are right in stating that in the present and the absent I know of nothing save knowledge, ignorance, and the recompense of the two. It may be, however, there is something besides these which others have learned, though I have not. — Aristotle: Can an answer be given but after a question? — Kriton: No. — Aristotle: Can a question ever be asked before that which is asked about comes into the mind? — Kriton: No. — Aristotle: If you have a clear notion of that about which you have asked, you have obtained the answer thereto in the answer which you received to your question about knowledge, ignorance, and their recompense. But if you have no notion in your own mind of that about which you would ask, I am not bound to reply. — Kriton: True, my question was not justified, and no answer is due from you. I have obtained the answer to my question. — Aristotle: Then give Simmias leave to speak in his turn. — Simmias said: I heard all that Lysias asked concerning your statements, and the replies you gave Kriton: and all is clear to me except one word that Kriton accepted from you, but which is not clear to me as yet. — Aristotle: Which? — Simmias: I heard you say that there is nothing either in “absence” or “presence” except knowledge, its opposite, and the recompense of the two. Now how can it be clear to me that there is nothing save this? — Aristotle: Do you know of anything else? — Simmias: I know of the heavens and the earth, the mountains and the plains, the animals, and all else that is on the dry and the moist, which I cannot call knowledge, nor ignorance, nor the recompense of either without proof. — Aristotle: Do you agree with the saying of Hermes, quoted by me in the. book of physics? — Simmias: What is that saying? — Aristotle: Hermes states that no object acquires strength except by union with its like; and that none acquires weakness except by union with what is unlike it. — Simmias: Yes, it is so; there is nothing in which experience does not show the truth of Hermes’ saying. — Aristotle: Then you have acknowledged that nothing exists except knowledge, ignorance, and the recompense of the two. — Simmias: How so? — Aristotle: Of the things which you have enumerated there is none that does not belong to this world. — Simmias: Certainly. — Aristotle: Know you what it is that induces philosophers to abandon this world? — Simmias: Their knowledge, by seeing that these things are detrimental to the intellect, induces them to take this course. — Aristotle: Then have you not learned that whatever harms the intellect is the opposite of the intellect, and the opposite of the intellect is non-intelligence? — Simmias: If what you say, that these things harm the intellect, be true of the earth, it is not true of the heaven. — Aristotle: Nay, the heaven differs not from the earth in this matter. — Simmias: In what respect are the heavens as detrimental to the intellect as the earth? — Aristotle: The least detriment occasioned to knowledge by the heaven is this, that it prevents the sight from penetrating and passing through; now that which is inimical to sight is inimical to intelligence. — Simmias: This tl1eory is true of the present; what of the absent? — Aristotle: The absent must either be like or unlike the present, must it not? — Simmias: Yes. — Aristotle: If it be like it, must it not help its like? if it be unlike, must it not oppose it and thwart it? — Simmias: Now, indeed, I must certainly agree to all that Kriton accepted from you. Now tell me the explanation of a single saying that I have met with in the works of the great Plato: that everything that does good averts ill; but not everything that averts ill does good; and that the philosopher should amass a great quantity of those things which both avert ill and do good, and be content with a small number of those things which avert ill but do no good. — Aristotle: Plato tells you that only those things suit the philosopher which bring him good and avert ill from him; and thereby he means knowledge.which brings illumination to the mind and averts the darkness of ignorance; and he bids him acquire much of it. And of that which averts ill but is unprofitable, which is food, clothing and lodging, he bids him be content with as much as is absolutely necessary, because to exceed the limit in these things does harm to the intellect, whereas to· seek the mean averts ill, but does no positive good, since none of the pleasures of knowledge proceeds therefrom to the mind. Hence it behoves the philosopher to be easily satisfied with obtaining the means of subsistence and very eager to acquire knowledge. — Simmias: What is it that prevents that which averts ill from doing positive good when both agree in averting ill? — Aristotle: That which does positive good differs from that which averts ill in this, that whatever averts ill only, if it be pursued to excess, ceases even to avert ill, and becomes detrimental; whereas that which does positive good, i.e. knowledge, the more there is of it the more beneficial it is; whereas that which averts ill only does so, so long as it in moderation. Do you not see that if you are satisfied with a modicum of food, it averts the mischief of hunger? similarly drink and clothing; whereas all, if there be more of them than is necessary, become detrimental, and their power of averting ill even is annulled, like heavy armour which wounds or kills its bearer. Whereas that which both does good and averts ill (that is, wisdom), however much there be of it, does not, like heavy armour, weigh down its possessor. Thus did Plato distinguish between that which does good and that which averts ill, according to what you heard of his sayings. — Simmias: Is there any other term besides these two or not? — Aristotle: One other term remains; if it be added to these others, nothing is left out. — Simmias: What is that? — Aristotle: Things are of three sorts: the thing which both does good and averts ill; that which averts ill, but induces no good; and that which does harrn. — Simmias: What is it that does harm? — Aristotle: A thing which averts ill, when carried to excess, so as to become detrimental. — Simmias: This subject is concluded. My mind is as much brightened by your instruction as the eye of the seer by the light of day. Now tell me: Is there any affinity between that which gives brightness to the mind and that which gives brightness to the eye? Or, is there any resemblance between the mind and the eye? — Aristotle: They are things which do not resemble each other so much in substance as in function. If you have received the answer to your question, let Diogenes speak. — Simmias became silent. — Diogenes then said: I have observed that those philosophers whose mental vision has been most acute have been the most temperate. Now tell me: Do goodness and temperance spring from brightness of mental vision or not? — Aristotle: There are different sorts of passions and divers sorts of intellects. Over against each passion there is an intellect best capable of opposing that passion. Lust in its nature is not the essence of folly, but each is a separate essence, though both are at one in harming the philosopher and keeping him from his recompense. Nor again is that faculty and quality which recommends self-restraint identical with the faculty and quality which overcomes folly and brings knowledge; neither are they opposed to each other; rather is there resemblance and also diversity between the two, like the resemblance and diversity between running water and ice; the one being fine and rare, the other hard and coarse; just so is fine ignorance opposed to fine knowledge, and strong piety to strong lust. And if a man’s habit of temperance is weak and his property of knowledge strong, his judgment sees aright, while his conduct, so far as continence goes, is weak; while the intellectual vision and the conduct of him whose case is the opposite are opposite. — Diogenes: How can this be right, when you have said before that nothing exists except knowledge, ignorance, and the recompense of each? Now you have acknowledged the exietence of knowledge, ignorance, continence, lust, and other things. — Aristotle: Do you not see that running water and ice resemble each other? Similar to this is the resemblance of lust to ignorance, and the rest are like this too. Being similar in operation they become one in name. — Diogenes: How do I know that ignorance is to lust as running water to ice? — Aristotle: Do you not see that both hurt the intellect, just as running water and ice neither tolerate heat? — Diogenes: This subject is over. Now tell me: Which science is the most proper for me. to pursue? — Aristotle: Since the pursuit of philosophy is the best of the pursuits of this world, and the recompense therefor is the greatest of the recompenses of the next world, philosophy is the best science that you can pursue. — Diogenes: Is there. any other knowledge besides philosophy or not? — Aristotle: The vulgar herd have a sort of knowledge and science and truth and honesty and generosity and other wasted virtues, which are as different from wisdom as the form of an· animal is from a picture or sketch on a wall. — Diogenes: Why do you call those virtues of the vulgar herd wasted? — Aristotle: On account of the ignorance of the vulgar with regard to them. — Diogenes: How so? — Aristotle: Because the vulgar wise man brings bis knowledge into play there where it will not increase his gain, and their merciful man spares him who is worthy of exemplary punishment, and their veracious man brings his veracity into play when it pleases him, though the truth be obscene, and their liberal man is liberal to the unworthy, and their faithful man keeps bis promises to people’s ruin, and their hearer hears to no purpose. Beyond a doubt these good qualities are wasted in them, and no more resemble the virtues of the wise than a painting on a wall resembles a living animal. — Diogenes: How does your illustration correspond with the virtues of the few and of the many? — Aristotle: Have you not learned that knowledge is life and ignorance death? — Diogenes: Yes. — Aristotle: The knowledge of the wise man vivifies his actions, whereas the folly of the ignorant mortifies his. — Diogenes: Then are their good actions any better than their bad ones or not? — Aristotle: They are not. — Diogenes: How so? — Aristotle: The well-doer of the vulgar intends to do good, and takes a wrong path. The evil-doer among them intends evil and carries it out in the wrong way. They are just alike and neither has the advantage. — Diogenes: I know now in what way their virtues are wasted. Now show the superiority of wisdom without which no actions are profitable. — Aristotle: Whosoever has seen good, abandoned evil, and entered into goodness has acted in accordance with wisdom; and whosoever has intended good and erred, or intended evil and carried it out, has departed from wisdom. — Diogenes: This whole subject is clear. Now tell me: To whom was this thing, I mean wisdom, first made clear? — Aristotle: The minds of men are far from being able to attain to any thing so grand without teaching; just as their eyes are far from seeing without the light of a lamp. — Diogenes: From whom did the philosophers learn it? — Aristotle: The heralds and ambassadors of the different ages in the different regions of the globe were constantly summoning mankind thereunto; and the first person on earth to whom that knowledge came by revelation was Hermes. — Diogenes: Whence came it to Hermes? — Aristotle: His mind was taken up to heaven and it came to him from the Archangels, who had got it from the record of God. From him it came to the earth, and was received by the sages. — Diogenes: How am I to know that Hermes obtained that knowledge from the inhabitants of heaven? — Aristotle: If that knowledge be the truth, it can come from above. — Diogenes: Why? — Aristotle: Do you not see that the upper part of each thing is better than the lower? The upper part of water and its surface are purer than the lower; the higher parts of the earth are pleasanter and fairer than the lower parts; the best member of a man is his head, the purest thing in a tree is its fruit; and so on with everything. The fittest thing, therefore, to come from on high is wisdom. Another proof is this: the substance and nature of wisdom have overcome and out-topped everything else. — Diogenes: O guide to wisdom! Our minds vary not the least from thine. Make a compact between us which will guard us from differing with one another! — Aristotle: If you would follow my ways, imitate my books. — Diogenes: There are so many. Which will settle differences between us best if any such arise? — Aristotle: Questions concerning the “first science” and the science of theology you should seek from the book of Hermes; for difficulties in the way of politics [you should go to the Politics, and for] difficulties in natural science, to the Physics; for difficulties about good and bad actions, to the Ethics; whereas if any difference arise among you about the definitions of speech, you should refer to the four books of Logic, the first the Categories, the second περὶ ἑρμηνείας, the third ἀναλυτική, the fourth ἀποδεικτική, or book of Demonstration, which tells you how to distinguish between true and false. There you will obtain light on dark matters.
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