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The natural result of any investigation is that the investigators either discover the object of search or deny that it is discoverable and confess it to be inapprehensible or persist in their search.
So, too, with regard to the objects investigated by philosophy, this is probably why some have claimed to have discovered the truth, others have asserted that it cannot be apprehended, while others again go on inquiring.
Those who believe they have discovered it are the
‟Dogmatists,” specially so called—Aristotle, for
example, and Epicurus and the Stoics and certain
others; Cleitomachus and Carneades and other
Academics
Hence it seems reasonable to hold that the main types of
philosophy are three—the Dogmatic, the Academic, and the Sceptic.
Of the other systems it will best become others to speak: our
task at present is to describe in outline the Sceptic doctrine,
Of the Sceptic philosophy one argument (or branch
of exposition) is called ‟general,” the other ‟special.”
In the general argument we set forth the distinctive
features of Scepticism, stating its purport and
principles, its logical methods, criterion, and end or aim;
the ‟Tropes,” also, or ‟Modes,”
In the special argument we state our objections
regarding the several divisions of so-called philosophy.
The Sceptic School, then, is also called ‟Zetetic”
from its activity in investigation and inquiry, and
‟Ephectic” or Suspensive from the state of mind
produced in the inquirer after his search, and
‟Aporetic” or Dubitative either from its habit of
doubting and seeking, as some say, or from its
indecision as regards assent and denial, and ‟Pyrrhonian”
from the fact that Pyrrho
Scepticism is an ability, or mental attitude, which opposes appearances to judgements in any way whatsoever, with the result that, owing to the equipollence of the objects and reasons thus opposed, we are brought firstly to a state of mental suspense and next to a state of ‟unperturbedness” or quietude.
Now we call it an ‟ability” not in any subtle sense, but simply in respect of its ‟being able.” By ‟appearances” we now mean the objects of sense- perception, whence we contrast them with the objects of thought or ‟judgements.” The phrase ‟in any way whatsoever” can be connected either with the word ‟ability,” to make us take the word ‟ability,” as we said, in its simple sense, or with the phrase ‟opposing appearances to judgements;” for inasmuch as we oppose these in a variety of ways—appearances to appearances, or judgements to judgements, or /alternando/ appearances to judgements,—in order to ensure the inclusion of all these antitheses we employ the phrase ‟in any way whatsoever.” Or, again, we join ‟in any way whatsoever” to ‟appearances and judgements” in order that we may not have to inquire how the appearances appear or how the thought-objects are judged, but may take these terms in the simple sense.
The phrase ‟opposed judgements” we do not employ
in the sense of negations and affirmations only but
simply as equivalent to ‟conflicting judgements.”
In the definition of the Sceptic system there is also implicitly included that of the Pyrrhonean philosopher: he is the man who participates in this ‟ability.”
The originating cause of Scepticism is, we say, the hope of attaining quietude. Men of talent, who were perturbed by the contradictions in things and in doubt as to which of the alternatives they ought to accept, were led on to inquire what is true in things and what false, hoping by the settlement of this question to attain quietude. The main basic principle of the Sceptic system is that of opposing to every proposition an equal proposition; for we believe that as a consequence of this we end by ceasing to dogmatize.
When we say that the Sceptic refrains from dogmatizing we do not use the term ‟dogma,” as some do, in the broader sense of ‟approval of a thing” (for the Sceptic gives assent to the feelings which are the necessary results of sense-impressions, and he would not, for example, say when feeling hot or cold ‟I believe that I am not hot or cold”); but we say that ‟he does not dogmatize” using ‟dogma” in the sense, which some give it, of ‟assent to one of the non-evident objects of scientific inquiry;” for the Pyrrhonean philosopher assents to nothing that is non-evident.
Moreover, even in the act of enunciating the Sceptic
formulae
If then, while the dogmatizer posits the matter of his
dogma as substantial truth, the Sceptic enunciates
his formulae so that they are virtually cancelled by
themselves, he should not be said to dogmatize in his
enunciation of them. And, most important of all, in
his enunciation of these formulae he states what
appears to himself and announces his own impression
in an undogmatic way, without making any positive
assertion regarding the external realities.
We follow the same lines in replying to the question ‟Has the Sceptic a doctrinal rule?” For if one defines a ‟doctrinal rule” as ‟adherence to a number of dogmas which are dependent both on one another and on appearances,” and defines ‟dogma” as ‟assent to a non-evident proposition,” then we shall say that he has not a doctrinal rule.
But if one defines ‟doctrinal rule” as ‟procedure which,
in accordance with appearance, follows a certain line of
reasoning, that reasoning indicating how it is possible
to seem to live rightly (the word ‘rightly’ being
taken, not as referring to virtue only, but in a wider
sense
We make a similar reply also to the question ‟Should the Sceptic deal with physical problems?” For while, on the one hand, so far as regards making firm and positive assertions about any of the matters dogmatically treated in physical theory, we do not deal with physics; yet, on the other hand, in respect of our mode of opposing to every proposition an equal proposition and of our theory of quietude we do treat of physics. This, too, is the way in which we approach the logical and ethical branches of so-called ‟philosophy.”
Those who say that ‟the Sceptics abolish appearances,”
or phenomena, seem to me to be unacquainted
with the statements of our School. For, as we said
above, we do not overthrow the affective sense-
impressions
For example, honey
That we adhere to appearances is plain from what
we say about the Criterion of the Sceptic School.
The word ‟Criterion” is used in two senses: in the
one it means ‟the standard regulating belief in
reality or unreality,” (and this we shall discuss in
our refutation
The criterion, then, of the Sceptic School is, we say, the appearance, giving this name to what is virtually the sense-presentation. For since this lies in feeling and involuntary affection, it is not open to question. Consequently, no one, I suppose, disputes that the underlying object has this or that appearance; the point in dispute is whether the object is in reality such as it appears to be.
Adhering, then, to appearances we live in accordance
with the normal rules of life, undogmatically,
seeing that we cannot remain wholly inactive.
Nature’s guidance is that by which we are naturally capable of sensation and thought; constraint of the passions is that whereby hunger drives us to food and thirst to drink; tradition of customs and laws, that whereby we regard piety in the conduct of life as good, but impiety as evil; instruction of the arts, that whereby we are not inactive in such arts as we adopt. But we make all these statements undogmatically.
Our next subject will be the End of the Sceptic
system. Now an ‟End” is ‟that for which all
actions or reasonings are undertaken, while it exists
for the sake of none;” or, otherwise, ‟the ultimate
object of appetency.”
For the Sceptic, having set out to philosophize with the object of passing judgement on the sense-impressions and ascertaining which of them are true and which false, so as to attain quietude thereby, found himself involved in contradictions of equal weight, and being unable to decide between them suspended judgement; and as he was thus in suspense there followed, as it happened, the state of quietude in respect of matters of opinion.
For the man who opines that anything is by nature good or bad is for ever being disquieted: when he is without the things which he deems good he believes himself to be tormented by things naturally bad and he pursues after the things which are, as he thinks, good; which when he has obtained he keeps falling into still more perturbations because of his irrational and immoderate elation, and in his dread of a change of fortune he uses every endeavour to avoid losing the things which he deems good.
On the other hand, the man who determines nothing as to what is naturally good or bad neither shuns nor pursues anything eagerly; and, in consequence, he is unperturbed.
The Sceptic, in fact, had the same experience which
is said to have befallen the painter Apelles.
So, too, the Sceptics were in hopes of gaining quietude by means of a decision regarding the disparity of the objects of sense and of thought, and being unable to effect this they suspended judgement; and they found that quietude, as if by chance, followed upon their suspense, even as a shadow follows its substance. We do not, however, suppose that the Sceptic is wholly untroubled; but we say that he is troubled by things unavoidable; for we grant that he is cold at times and thirsty, and suffers various affections of that kind.
But even in these cases, whereas ordinary people are
afflicted by two circumstances,—namely, by the affections
themselves and, in no less a degree, by the belief that
these conditions are evil by nature,—the Sceptic, by his
rejection of the added belief in the natural badness of
all these conditions, escapes here too with less discomfort.
Hence we say that, while in regard to matters of opinion
the Sceptic’s End is quietude, in regard to things
unavoidable it is ‟moderate affection.” But some notable
Sceptics
Now that we have been saying that tranquillity follows on suspension of judgement, it will be our next task to explain how we arrive at this suspension. Speaking generally, one may say that it is the result of setting things in opposition. We oppose either appearances to appearances or objects of thought to objects of thought or alternando.
For instance, we oppose appearances to appearances
when we say ‟The same tower
And thoughts we oppose to appearances, as when Anaxagoras
‟Just as, before the birth of the founder of the School to which you belong, the theory it holds was not as yet apparent as a sound theory, although it was really in existence, so likewise it is possible that the opposite theory to that which you now propound is already really existent, though not yet apparent to us, so that we ought not as yet to yield assent to this theory which at the moment seems to be valid.”
But in order that we may have a more exact understanding of these antitheses I will describe the Modes by which suspension of judgement is brought about, but without making any positive assertion regarding either their number or their validity; for it is possible that they may be unsound or there may be more of them than I shall enumerate.
The usual tradition amongst the older Sceptics is that the ‟modes” by which ‟suspension” is supposed to be brought about are ten in number; and they also give them the synonymous names of ‟arguments” and ‟positions.” They are these: the first, based on the variety in animals; the second, on the differences in human beings; the third, on the different structures of the organs of sense; the fourth, on the circumstantial conditions; the fifth, on positions and intervals and locations; the sixth, on intermixtures;
the seventh, on the quantities and formations of the underlying objects; the eighth, on the fact of relativity; the ninth, on the frequency or rarity of occurrence; the tenth, on the disciplines and customs and laws, the legendary beliefs and the dogmatic convictions.
This order, however, we adopt without prejudice.
As superordinate to these there stand three Modes —that based on the subject who judges, that on the object judged, and that based on both. The first four of the ten Modes are subordinate to the Mode based on the subject (for the subject which judges is either an animal or a man or a sense, and existent in some condition): the seventh and tenth Modes are referred to that based on the object judged: the fifth, sixth, eighth and ninth are referred to the Mode based on both subject and object.
Furthermore, these three Modes are also referred to that of relation, so that the Mode of relation stands as the highest genus, and the three as species, and the ten as subordinate sub-species. We give this as the probable account of their numbers; and as to their argumentative force what we say is this:
The First argument (or Trope), as we said, is that which shows that the same impressions are not produced by the same objects owing to the differences in animals. This we infer both from the differences in their origins and from the variety of their bodily structures.
Thus, as to origin, some animals are produced without sexual union, others by coition. And of those produced without coition, some come from fire, like the animalcules which appear in furnaces, others from putrid water, like gnats; others from wine when it turns sour, like ants; others from earth, like grasshoppers; others from marsh, like frogs; others from mud, like worms; others from asses, like beetles; others from greens, like caterpillars; others from fruits, like the gall-insects in wild figs; others from rotting animals, as bees from bulls and wasps from horses.
Of the animals generated by coition, some—in fact the majority—come from homogeneous parents, others from heterogeneous parents, as do mules. Again, of animals in general, some are born alive, like men ; others are born as eggs, like birds; and yet others as lumps of flesh, like bears.
It is natural, then, that these dissimilar and variant modes of birth should produce much contrariety of sense-affection, and that this is a source of its divergent, discordant and conflicting character.
Moreover, the differences found in the most important
parts of the body, and especially in those of
which the natural function is judging and perceiving,
are capable of producing a vast deal of divergence
in the sense-impressions owing to the variety in the
animals. Thus, sufferers from jaundice declare that
objects which seem to us white are yellow, while those
whose eyes are bloodshot call them blood-red. Since,
then, some animals also have eyes which are yellow,
others bloodshot, others albino, others of other
colours, they probably, I suppose, have different
perceptions of colour.
Moreover, if we bend down over a book after having gazed
long and fixedly at the sun, the letters seem to us to be
golden in colour and circling round. Since, then, some animals
possess also a natural brilliance in their eyes, and emit
from them a fine and mobile stream of light, so that they
can even see by night,
Jugglers, too, by means of smearing lamp-wicks with the rust of copper or with the juice of the cuttle-fish make the bystanders appear now copper- coloured and now black—and that by just a small sprinkling of extra matter. Surely, then, we have much more reason to suppose that when different juices are intermingled in the vision of animals their impressions of the objects will become different.
Again, when we press the eyeball at one side the forms, figures and sizes of the objects appear oblong and narrow. So it is probable that all animals which have the pupil of the eye slanting and elongated— such as goats, cats, and similar animals—have impressions of the objects which are different and unlike the notions formed of them by the animals which have round pupils.
Mirrors, too, owing to differences in
their construction, represent the external objects
Since, then, some organs of sight actually protrude beyond the face owing to their convexity, while others are quite concave, and others again lie in a level plane, on this account also it is probable that their impressions differ, and that the same objects, as seen by dogs, fishes, lions, men and locusts, are neither equal in size nor similar in shape, but vary according to the image of each object created by the particular sight that receives the impression.
Of the other sense-organs also the same account holds good. Thus, in respect of touch, how could one maintain that creatures covered with shells, with flesh, with prickles, with feathers, with scales, are all similarly affected? And as for the sense of hearing, how could we say that its perceptions are alike in animals with a very narrow auditory passage and those with a very wide one, or in animals with hairy ears and those with smooth ears? For, as regards this sense, even we ourselves find our hearing affected in one way when we have our ears plugged and in another way when we use them just as they are.
Smell also will differ because of the variety in animals. For if we ourselves are affected in one way when we have a cold and our internal phlegm is excessive, and in another way when the parts about our head are filled with an excess of blood, feeling an aversion to smells which seem sweet to everyone else and regarding them as noxious, it is reasonable to suppose that animals too—since some are flaccid by nature and rich in phlegm, others rich in blood, others marked by a predominant excess of yellow or of black gall— are in each case impressed in different ways by the objects of smell.
So too with the objects of taste; for some animals have rough and dry tongues, others extremely moist tongues. We ourselves, too, when our tongues are very dry, in cases of fever, think the food proffered us to be earthy and ill-flavoured or bitter—an affection due to the variation in the predominating juices which we are said to contain. Since, then, animals also have organs of taste which differ and which have different juices in excess, in respect of taste also they will receive different impressions of the real objects.
For just as the same food when digested becomes in one place a vein, in another an artery, in another a bone, in another a sinew, or some other piece of the body, displaying a different potency according to the difference in the parts which receive it;—and just as the same unblended water, when it is absorbed by trees, becomes in one place bark, in another branch, in another blossom, and so finally fig and quince and each of the other fruits;
—and just as the single identical breath of a musician breathed into a flute becomes here a shrill note and there a deep note, and the same pressure of his hand on the lyre produces here a deep note and there a shrill note;—so likewise it is probable that the external objects appear different owing to differences in the structure of the animals which experience the sense-impressions.
But one may learn this more clearly from the preferences and aversions of animals. Thus, sweet oil seems very agreeable to men, but intolerable to beetles and bees; and olive oil is beneficial to men, but when poured on wasps and bees it destroys them; and sea-water is a disagreeable and poisonous potion for men, but fish drink and enjoy it.
Pigs, too, enjoy wallowing in the most stinking mire rather than in clear and clean water. And whereas some animals eat grass, others eat shrubs, others feed in woods, others live on seeds or flesh or milk; some of them, too, prefer their food high, others like it fresh, and while some prefer it raw, others like it cooked. And so generally, the things which are agreeable to some are to others disagreeable, distasteful and deadly.
Thus, quails are fattened by hemlock, and pigs by henbane; and pigs also enjoy eating salamanders, just as deer enjoy poisonous creatures, and swallows gnats. So ants and wood-lice, when swallowed by men, cause distress and gripings, whereas the bear, whenever she falls sick, cures herself by licking them up.
The mere touch of an oak-twig paralyses the viper, and that of a plane-leaf the bat. The elephant flees from the ram, the lion from the cock, sea- monsters from the crackle of bursting beans, and the tiger from the sound of a drum. One might, indeed, cite many more examples, but—not to seem unduly prolix—if the same things are displeasing to some but pleasing to others, and pleasure and displeasure depend upon sense-impression, then animals receive different impressions from the underlying objects.
But if the same things appear different owing to the variety in animals, we shall, indeed, be able to state our own impressions of the real object, but as to its essential nature we shall suspend judgement. For we cannot ourselves judge between our own impressions and those of the other animals, since we ourselves are involved in the dispute and are, therefore, rather in need of a judge than competent to pass judgement ourselves.
Besides, we are unable, either with or without proof,
to prefer our own impressions to those of the irrational
animals. For in addition to the probability that proof is,
as we shall show,
It is, indeed, absurd to attempt to establish the matter
in question by means of the matter in question,
By way of super-addition,
but since the Dogmatists captiously assert that the comparison is unequal, we—super-adding yet more—will carry our ridicule further and base our argument on one animal only, the dog for instance if you like, which is held to be the most worthless of animals. For even in this case we shall find that the animals we are discussing are no wise inferior to ourselves in respect of the credibility of their impressions.
Now it is allowed by the Dogmatists that this animal, the dog, excels us in point of sensation: as to smell it is more sensitive than we are, since by this sense it tracks beasts that it cannot see; and with its eyes it sees them more quickly than we do; and with its ears it is keen of perception.
Next let us proceed to the reasoning faculty. Of
reason one kind is internal, implanted in the soul, the other
externally expressed.
Now the dog—the animal upon which, by way of example, we have decided to base our argument—exercises choice of the congenial and avoidance of the harmful, in that it hunts after food and slinks away from a raised whip. Moreover, it possesses an art which supplies what is congenial, namely hunting.
Nor is it devoid even of virtue; for certainly if justice
consists in rendering to each his due,
But if he possesses this virtue, then, since
the virtues are interdependent, he possesses also all
the other virtues; and these, say the philosophers,
And according to Chrysippus, who shows special interest
in irrational animals, the dog even shares in the far-famed
‟Dialectic.”
Moreover, the dog is capable of comprehending and assuaging his own sufferings; for when a thorn has got stuck in his foot he hastens to remove it by rubbing his foot on the ground and by using his teeth. And if he has a wound anywhere, because dirty wounds are hard to cure whereas clean ones heal easily, the dog gently licks off the pus that has gathered.
Nay more, the dog admirably observes the prescription
of Hippocrates:
If, then, it has been shown that the animal upon which,
as an example, we have based our argument not only chooses
the wholesome and avoids the noxious, but also possesses
an art capable of supplying what is wholesome, and
is capable of comprehending and assuaging its own
sufferings, and is not devoid of virtue, then—these
being the things in which the perfection of internal
reason consists—the dog will be thus far perfect.
And that, I suppose, is why certain of the professors
of philosophy have adorned themselves with the title
of this animal.
Concerning external reason, or speech, it is unnecessary
for the present to inquire; for it has been
rejected even by some of the Dogmatists as being
a hindrance to the acquisition of virtue, for which
reason they used to practise silence
And, leaving this point also aside, even if we do not understand the utterances of the so-called irrational animals, still it is not improbable that they converse although we fail to understand them; for in fact when we listen to the talk of barbarians we do not understand it, and it seems to us a kind of uniform chatter.
Moreover, we hear dogs uttering one sound when they are driving people off, another when they are howling, and one sound when beaten, and a quite different sound when fawning. And so in general, in the case of all other animals as well as the dog, whoever examines the matter carefully will find a great variety of utterance according to the different circumstances, so that, in consequence, the so-called irrational animals may justly be said to participate in external reason.
But if they neither fall short of mankind in the accuracy of their perceptions, nor in internal reason, nor yet (to go still further) in external reason, or speech, then they will deserve no less credence than ourselves in respect of their sense-impressions.
Probably, too, we may reach this conclusion by basing our argument on each single class of irrational animals. Thus, for example, who would deny that birds excel in quickness of wit or that they employ external reason? For they understand not only present events but future events as well, and these they foreshow to such as are able to comprehend them by means of prophetic cries as well as by other signs.
I have drawn this comparison (as I previously indicated) by way of super-addition, having already sufficiently proved, as I think, that we cannot prefer our own sense-impressions to those of the irrational animals. If, however, the irrational animals are not less worthy of credence than we in regard to the value of sense-impressions, and their impressions vary according to the variety of animal,—then, although I shall be able to say what the nature of each of the underlying objects appears to me to be, I shall be compelled, for the reasons stated above, to suspend judgement as to its real nature.
Such, then, is the First of the Modes which induce suspense. The Second Mode is, as we said, that based on the differences in men; for even if we grant for the sake of argument that men are more worthy of credence than irrational animals, we shall find that even our own differences of themselves lead to suspense. For man, you know, is said to be compounded of two things, soul and body, and in both these we differ one from another.
Thus, as regards the body, we differ in our figures
and ‟idiosyncrasies,” or constitutional peculiarities.
The body of an Indian differs in shape from that of
a Scythian; and it is said that what causes the variation
is a difference in the predominant humours,
Owing to this difference in the predominant humours
the sense-impressions also come to differ, as we
indicated in our First Argument.
In respect of our ‟idiosyncrasies,” our differences are such that some of us digest the flesh of oxen more easily than rock-fish, or get diarrhoea from the weak wine of Lesbos. An old wife of Attica, they say, swallowed with impunity thirty drams of hemlock, and Lysis took four drams of poppy-juice without hurt.
Demophon, Alexander’s butler, used to shiver when he was
in the sun or in a hot bath, but felt warm in the shade:
Athenagoras the Argive took no hurt from the stings
of scorpions and poisonous spiders; and the Psyllaeans,
nor are the Tentyritae
Chrysermus the Herophilean doctor was liable to
get a heart attack if ever he took pepper;
and Soterichus the surgeon was seized with diarrhoea
whenever he smelled fried sprats. Andron the Argive
was so immune from thirst that he actually traversed
the waterless country of Libya without needing a
drink. Tiberius Caesar could see in the dark; and
Aristotle
Seeing, then, that men vary so much in body—to content ourselves with but a few instances of the many collected by the Dogmatists,—men probably also differ from one another in respect of the soul itself; for the body is a kind of expression of the soul, as in fact is proved by the science of Physiognomy. But the greatest proof of the vast and endless differences in men’s intelligence is the discrepancy in the statements of the Dogmatists concerning the right objects of choice and avoidance, as well as other things.
Regarding this the poets, too, have expressed
themselves fittingly. Thus Pindar says:
And the poet
And again:
Seeing, then, that choice and avoidance depend on pleasure and displeasure, while pleasure and displeasure depend on sensation and sense-impression, whenever some men choose the very things which are avoided by others, it is logical for us to conclude that they are also differently affected by the same things, since otherwise they would all alike have chosen or avoided the same things. But if the same objects affect men differently owing to the differences in the men, then, on this ground also, we shall reasonably be led to suspension of judgement. For while we are, no doubt, able to state what each of the underlying objects appears to be, relatively to each difference, we are incapable of explaining what it is in reality.
For we shall have to believe either all men or some. But if we believe all, we shall be attempting the impossible and accepting contradictories; and if some, let us be told whose opinions we are to endorse. For the Platonist will say ‟Plato’s;” the Epicurean, ‟Epicurus’s;” and so on with the rest; and thus by their unsettled disputations they will bring us round again to a state of suspense.
Moreover, he who maintains that we ought to assent to the majority is making a childish proposal, since no one is able to visit the whole of mankind and determine what pleases the majority of them; for there may possibly be races of whom we know nothing amongst whom conditions rare with us are common, and conditions common with us rare,—possibly, for instance, most of them feel no pain from the bites of spiders, though a few on rare occasions feel such pain; and so likewise with the rest of the ‟idiosyncrasies” mentioned above. Necessarily, therefore, the differences in men afford a further reason for bringing in suspension of judgement.
When the Dogmatists—a self-loving class of men— assert that in judging things they ought to prefer themselves to other people, we know that their claim is absurd; for they themselves are a party to the controversy; and if, when judging appearances, they have already given the preference to themselves, then, by thus entrusting themselves with the judgement, they are begging the question before the judgement is begun.
Nevertheless, in order that we may arrive
at suspension of judgement by basing our argument
on one person—such as, for example, their visionary
‟Sage”
This Third Mode is, we say, based on differences in the senses. That the senses differ from one another is obvious.
Thus, to the eye paintings seem to have recesses and
projections, but not so to the touch. Honey, too, seems
to some
So too with spurge:
A longer list of examples might be given, but to avoid prolixity, in view of the plan of our treatise, we will say just this. Each of the phenomena perceived by the senses seems to be a complex: the apple, for example, seems smooth, odorous, sweet and yellow. But it is non-evident whether it really possesses these qualities only; or whether it has but one quality but appears varied owing to the varying structure of the sense-organs; or whether, again, it has more qualities than are apparent, some of which elude our perception.
That the apple has but one quality might be argued from what
we said above
And that the apple may possibly possess more qualities than those apparent to us we argue in this way. Let us imagine a man who possesses from birth the senses of touch, taste and smell, but can neither hear nor see. This man, then, will assume that nothing visible or audible has any existence, but only those three kinds of qualities which he is able to apprehend.
Possibly, then, we also, having only our five senses, perceive only such of the apple's qualities as we are capable of apprehending; and possibly it may possess other underlying qualities which affect other sense-organs, though we, not being endowed with those organs, fail to apprehend the sense-objects which come through them.
‟But,” it may be objected, ‟Nature made the senses commensurate with the objects of sense.” What kind of ‟Nature?” we ask, seeing that there exists so much unresolved controversy amongst the Dogmatists concerning the reality which belongs to Nature. For he who decides the question as to the existence of Nature will be discredited by them if he is an ordinary person, while if he is a philosopher he will be a party to the controversy and therefore himself subject to judgement and not a judge.
If, however, it is possible that only those qualities which we seem to perceive subsist in the apple, or that a greater number subsist, or, again, that not even the qualities which affect us subsist, then it will be non- evident to us what the nature of the apple really is. And the same argument applies to all the other objects of sense. But if the senses do not apprehend external objects, neither can the mind apprehend them; hence, because of this argument also, we shall be driven, it seems, to suspend judgement regarding the external underlying objects.
In order that we may finally reach suspension by
our argument on each sense singly, or even
by disregarding the senses, we further adopt the
Fourth Mode of suspension. This is the Mode based,
as we say, on the ‟circumstances,” meaning by
‟circumstances” conditions or dispositions.
Thus, according as the mental state is natural or unnatural, objects produce dissimilar impressions, as when men in a frenzy or in a state of ecstasy believe they hear daemons’ voices, while we do not. Similarly they often say that they perceive an odour of storax or frankincense, or some such scent, and many other things, though we fail to perceive them. Also, the same water which feels very hot when poured on inflamed spots seems lukewarm to us.And the same coat which seems of a bright yellow colour to men with blood-shot eyes does not appear so to me. And the same honey seems to me sweet, but bitter to men with jaundice.
Now should anyone say that it is an intermixture of certain humours which produces in those who are in an unnatural state improper impressions from the under- lying objects, we have to reply that, since healthy persons also have mixed humours, these humours too are capable of causing the external objects—which really are such as they appear to those who are said to be in an unnatural state—to appear other than they are to healthy persons.
For to ascribe the power of altering the underlying objects
to those humours, and not to these, is purely fanciful; since
just as healthy men are in a state that is natural for the healthy
but unnatural for the sick, so also sick men are in a state that is
unnatural for the healthy but natural for the sick, so that to these
last also we must give credence as being, relatively speaking, in a
natural state.
Sleeping and waking, too, give rise to different
impressions, since we do not imagine when awake
what we imagine in sleep, nor when asleep what we
imagine when awake; so that the existence or non-
existence of our impressions is not absolute but
relative, being in relation to our sleeping or waking
condition. Probably, then, in dreams we see things
which to our waking state are unreal,
Age is another cause of difference.
Moreover, those who differ in age are differently moved in respect of choice and avoidance. For whereas children—to take a case—are all eagerness for balls and hoops, men in their prime choose other things, and old men yet others. And from this we conclude that differences in age also cause different impressions to be produced by the same underlying objects.
Another cause why the real objects appear different
lies in motion and rest. For those objects which,
when we are standing still, we see to be motionless,
we imagine to be in motion when we are sailing
past them.
Love and hatred are a cause, as when some have
an extreme aversion to pork while others greatly
enjoy eating it. Hence, too, Menander said:
Many lovers, too, who have ugly mistresses think
them most beautiful.
Hunger and satiety are a cause; for the same food seems agreeable to the hungry but disagreeable to the sated.
Drunkenness and soberness are a cause; since actions which we think shameful when sober do not seem shameful to us when drunk.
Predispositions are a cause; for the same wine
which seems sour to those who have previously eaten
dates or figs, seems sweet to those who have just
consumed nuts or chick-peas; and the vestibule
Fear and boldness are a cause; as what seems to the coward fearful and formidable does not seem so in the least to the bold man.
Grief and joy are a cause; since the same affairs are burdensome to those in grief but delightful to those who rejoice.
Seeing then that the dispositions also are the cause
of so much disagreement, and that men are differently
disposed at different times, although, no doubt, it is
easy to say what nature each of the underlying objects
appears to each man to possess, we cannot go on to
say what its real nature is, since the disagreement
admits in itself of no settlement. For the person who
tries to settle it is either in one of the afore-mentioned
dispositions or in no disposition whatsoever. But to declare
that he is in no disposition at all—as, for instance,
neither in health nor sickness, neither in
motion nor at rest, of no definite age, and devoid of
all the other dispositions as well—is the height of
absurdity. And if he is to judge the sense-impressions
while he is in some one disposition, he will be a
party to the disagreement,
and, moreover, he will not be an impartial judge of the external underlying objects owing to his being confused by the dispositions in which he is placed. The waking person, for instance, cannot compare the impressions of sleepers with those of men awake, nor the sound person those of the sick with those of the sound; for we assent more readily to things present, which affect us in the present, than to things not present.
In another way, too, the disagreement of such impressions is incapable of settlement. For he who prefers one impression to another, or one ‟circumstance” to another, does so either uncritically and without proof or critically and with proof; but he can do this neither without these means (for then he would be discredited) nor with them. For if he is to pass judgement on the impressions he must certainly judge them by a criterion;
this criterion, then, he will declare to be true, or else false. But if false, he will be discredited; whereas, if he shall declare it to be true, he will be stating that the criterion is true either without proof or with proof. But if without proof, he will be discredited; and if with proof, it will certainly be necessary for the proof also to be true, to avoid being discredited. Shall he, then, affirm the truth of the proof adopted to establish the criterion after having judged it or without judging it?
If without judging, he will be discredited; but if after Judging, plainly he will say that he has judged it by a criterion; and of that criterion we shall ask for a proof, and of that proof again a criterion. For the proof always requires a criterion to confirm it, and the criterion also a proof to demonstrate its truth; and neither can a proof be sound without the previous existence of a true criterion nor can the criterion be true without the previous confirmation of the proof.
So in this way both the criterion and the proof are
involved in the circular process of reasoning,
The Fifth Argument (or Trope) is that based on
positions, distances, and locations; for owing to each
of these the same objects appear different; for
example, the same porch
These effects are due to distances; among effects
due to locations are the following: the light of a lamp
appears dim in the sun but bright in the dark; and
the same oar bent when in the water but straight
when out of the water; and the egg soft when inside
the fowl but hard when in the air; and the jacinth
Effects due to positions are such as these: the same painting when laid flat appears smooth, but when inclined forward at a certain angle it seems to have recesses and prominences. The necks of doves, also, appear different in hue according to the differences in the angle of inclination.
Since, then, all apparent objects are viewed in a certain place, and from a certain distance, or in a certain position, and each of these conditions produces a great divergency in the sense-impressions, as we mentioned above, we shall be compelled by this Mode also to end up in suspension of judgement. For in fact anyone who purposes to give the preference to any of these impressions will be attempting the impossible.
For if he shall deliver his judgement simply and without
proof, he will be discredited; and should he, on the other
hand, desire to adduce proof, he will confute himself if
he says that the proof is false, while if he asserts that
the proof is true he will be asked for a proof of its truth,
and again for a proof of this latter proof, since it also must
be true, and so on ad infinitum.
so that neither by the use of proofs will he be able to prefer one sense-impression to another. If, then, one cannot hope to pass judgement on the afore-mentioned impressions either with or without proof, the conclusion we are driven to is suspension; for while we can, no doubt, state the nature which each object appears to possess as viewed in a certain position or at a certain distance or in a certain place, what its real nature is we are, for the foregoing reasons, unable to declare.
The Sixth Mode is that based on admixtures, by
which we conclude that, because none of the real
objects affects our senses by itself but always in
conjunction with something else, though we may
possibly be able to state the nature of the resultant
mixture
Thus, our own complexion is of one hue in warm air, of another in cold, and we should not be able to say what our complexion really is, but only what it looks like in conjunction with each of these conditions. And the same sound appears of one sort in conjunction with rare air and of another sort with dense air; and odours are more pungent in a hot bath-room or in the sun than in chilly air; and a body is light when immersed in water but heavy when surrounded by air.
But to pass on from the subject of external
admixture,—our eyes contain within themselves both
membranes and liquids. Since, then, the objects of
vision are not perceived apart from these, they will
not be apprehended with exactness; for what we perceive
is the resultant mixture, and because of this the
sufferers from jaundice see everything yellow, and
those with blood-shot eyes reddish like blood.
Moreover, since there reside substances in the nostrils and in the organs of taste, we apprehend the objects of taste and of smell in conjunction with these and not in their real purity. So that, because of these admixtures, the senses do not apprehend the exact quality of the external real objects.
Nor yet does the mind apprehend it, since, in the
first place, its guides, which are the senses, go wrong;
and probably, too, the mind itself adds a certain
admixture of its own to the messages conveyed by the
senses; for we observe that there are certain humours
present in each of the regions which the Dogmatists
regard as the seat of the ‟Ruling Principle”
The Seventh Mode is that based, as we said, on the quantity and constitution of the underlying objects, meaning generally by ‟constitution” the manner of composition. And it is evident that by this Mode also we are compelled to suspend judgement concerning the real nature of the objects. Thus, for example, the filings of a goat’s horn appear white when viewed simply by themselves and without combination, but when combined in the substance of the horn they look black. And silver filings appear black when they are by themselves, but when united to the whole mass they are sensed as white.
And chips of the marble of Taenarum
And wine strengthens us when drunk in moderate quantity, but when too much is taken it paralyses the body. So likewise food exhibits different effects according to the quantity consumed; for instance, it frequently upsets the body with indigestion and attacks of purging because of the large quantity taken.
Therefore in these cases, too, we shall be able to describe the quality of the shaving of the horn and of the compound made up of many shavings, and that of the particle of silver and of the compound of many particles, and that of the sliver of Taenarean marble and of the compound of many such small pieces, and the relative qualities of the pebbles, the hellebore, the wine and the food,—but when it comes to the independent and real nature of the objects, this we shall be unable to describe because of the divergency in the sense-impressions which is due to the combinations.
As a general rule, it seems that wholesome things become harmful when used in immoderate quantities, and things that seem hurtful when taken to excess cause no harm when in minute quantities. What we observe in regard to the effects of medicines is the best evidence in support of our statement; for there the exact blending of the simple drugs makes the compound wholesome, but when the slightest oversight is made in the measuring, as sometimes happens, the compound is not only unwholesome but frequently even most harmful and deleterious.
Thus the argument from quantities and compositions causes confusion as to the real nature of the external substances. Probably, therefore, this Mode also will bring us round to suspension of judgement, as we are unable to make any absolute statement concerning the real nature of external objects.
The Eighth Mode is that based on relativity; and
by it we conclude that, since all things are relative,
we shall suspend judgement as to what things are
absolutely and really existent. But this point we
must notice—that here as elsewhere we use the term
‟are” for the term ‟appear,” and what we virtually
mean is ‟all things appear relative.”
Indeed, we have already argued
There are also special arguments to prove the
relativity of all things, in this way: Do things which
exist ‟differentially”
Again,—of existing things some, according to the Dogmatists,
Moreover, some existent things are similar, others dissimilar, and some equal, others unequal; and these are relative; therefore all things are relative. And even he who asserts that not all things are relative confirms the relativity of all things, since by his arguments against us he shows that the very statement ‟not all things are relative” is relative to ourselves, and not universal.
When, however, we have thus established that all things are relative, we are plainly left with the conclusion that we shall not be able to state what is the nature of each of the objects in its own real purity, but only what nature it appears to possess in its relative character. Hence it follows that we must suspend judgement concerning the real nature of the objects.
The Mode which, as we said, comes Ninth in order is based on constancy or rarity of occurrence, and we shall explain it as follows. The sun is, of course, much more amazing than a comet; yet because we see the sun constantly but the comet rarely we are so amazed by the comet that we even regard it as a divine portent, while the sun causes no amazement at all. If, however, we were to conceive of the sun as appearing but rarely and setting rarely, and illuminating everything all at once and throwing everything into shadow suddenly, then we should experience much amazement at the sight.
An earthquake also does not cause the same alarm in those who experience it for the first time and those who have grown accustomed to such things. How much amazement, also, does the sea excite in the man who sees it for the first time! And indeed the beauty of a human body thrills us more at the first sudden view than when it becomes a customary spectacle. Rare things too we count as precious, but not what is familiar to us and easily got.
Thus,if we should suppose water to be rare, how much more
precious it would appear to us than all the things
which are accounted precious!
Since then, owing to the frequency or rarity of their occurrence, the same things seem at one time to be amazing or precious and at another time nothing of the sort, we infer that though we shall be able perhaps to say what nature appears to belong to each of these things in virtue of its frequent or rare occurrence, we are not able to state what nature absolutely belongs to each of the external objects. So because of this Mode also we suspend judgement regarding them.
There is a Tenth Mode, which is mainly concerned
with Ethics, being based on rules of conduct, habits,
laws, legendary beliefs, and dogmatic conceptions.
A rule of conduct is a choice of a way of life,
or of a particular action, adopted by one person
or many—by Diogenes,
A law is a written contract amongst the members of a State, the transgressor of which is punished. A habit or custom (the terms are equivalent) is the joint adoption of a certain kind of action by a number of men, the transgressor of which is not actually punished; for example, the law proscribes adultery, and custom with us forbids intercourse with a woman in public.
Legendary belief is the acceptance of unhistorical and
fictitious events, such as, amongst others, the legends
about Cronos; for these stories win credence with many.
Dogmatic conception is the acceptance of a fact which
seems to be established by analogy or some form of
demonstration, as, for example, that atoms are the
elements of existing things, or homoeomeries, or
minima,
And each of these we oppose now to itself, and now to each of the others. For example, we oppose habit to habit in this way: some of the Ethiopians tattoo their children, but we do not; and while the Persians think it seemly to wear a brightly dyed dress reaching to the feet, we think it unseemly; and whereas the Indians have intercourse with their women in public, most other races regard this as shameful.
And law we oppose to law in this way: among the Romans
the man who renounces his father’s property does
not pay his father’s debts, but among the Rhodians
he always pays them; and among the Scythian
Tauri
And we oppose rule of conduct to rule of conduct, as
when we oppose the rule of Diogenes to that of Aristippus
or that of the Laconians to that of the Italians. And we
oppose legendary belief to legendary belief when we say
that whereas in one story the father of men and gods
is alleged to be Zeus, in another he is Oceanos—
‟Ocean sire of the gods, and Tethys the mother
that bare them.”
And we oppose dogmatic conceptions to one another when we say that some declare that there is one element only, others an infinite number; some that the soul is mortal, others that it is immortal; and some that human affairs are controlled by divine Providence, others without Providence.
And we oppose habit to the other things, as for
instance to law when we say that amongst the
Persians it is the habit to indulge in intercourse with
males, but amongst the Romans it is forbidden by
law to do so; and that, whereas with us adultery is
forbidden, amongst the Massagetae it is traditionally
regarded as an indifferent custom, as Eudoxus of
Cnidos
And habit is opposed to rule of conduct
when, whereas most men have intercourse with their
own wives in retirement, Crates
It is opposed also to legendary belief, as when the legends say that Cronos devoured his own children, though it is our habit to protect our children; and whereas it is customary with us to revere the gods as being good and immune from evil, they are presented by the poets as suffering wounds and envying one another.
And habit is opposed to dogmatic conception when, whereas it
is our habit to pray to the gods for good things, Epicurus
And we oppose rule of conduct to law when, though there is a law which forbids the striking of a free or well-born man, the pancratiasts strike one another because of the rule of life they follow; and when, though homicide is forbidden, gladiators destroy one another for the same reason.
And we oppose legendary belief to rule of conduct when we
say that the legends relate that Heracles in the house
of Omphale ‟toiled at the spinning of wool, enduring
slavery's burden,”
And we oppose rule of conduct to dogmatic conception when, whereas athletes covet glory as something good and for its sake undertake a toilsome rule of life, many of the philosophers dogmatically assert that glory is a worthless thing.
And we oppose law to legendary belief when the poets represent the gods as commiting adultery and practising intercourse with males, whereas the law with us forbids such actions;
and we oppose it to dogmatic conception when Chrysippus
And we oppose legendary belief to dogmatic conception when the poets say that Zeus came down and had intercourse with mortal women, but amongst the Dogmatists it is held that such a thing is impossible;
and again, when the poet relates
We might indeed have taken many other examples in connexion with each of the antitheses above mentioned; but in a concise account like ours, these will be sufficient. Only, since by means of this Mode also so much divergency is shown to exist in objects, we shall not be able to state what character belongs to the object in respect of its real essence, but only what belongs to it in respect of this particular rule of conduct, or law, or habit, and so on with each of the rest. So because of this Mode also we are compelled to suspend judgement regarding the real nature of external objects. And thus by means of all the Ten Modes we are finally led to suspension of judgement.
The later Sceptics
That based on discrepancy leads us to find that with regard to the object presented there has arisen both amongst ordinary people and amongst the philosophers an interminable conflict because of which we are unable either to choose a thing or reject it, and so fall back on suspension.
The Mode based upon regress ad infinitum is that whereby we assert that the thing adduced as a proof of the matter proposed needs a further proof, and this again another, and so on ad infinitum, so that the consequence is suspension, as we possess no starting-point for our argument.
The Mode based upon relativity, as we have already
said,
We have the Mode based on hypothesis when the Dogmatists, being forced to recede ad infinitum, take as their starting-point something which they do not establish by argument but claim to assume as granted simply and without demonstration.
The Mode of circular reasoning is the form used when the proof itself which ought to establish the matter of inquiry requires confirmation derived from that matter; in this case, being unable to assume either in order to establish the other, we suspend judgement about both.
That every matter of inquiry admits of being brought under these Modes we shall show briefly in this way.
The matter proposed is either a sense-object or a
thought-object, but whichever it is, it is an object
of controversy; for some say that only sensibles are
true, others only intelligibles, others that some
sensible and some intelligible objects are true.
For example, in the case of the sense- object (for we shall base our argument on it first), is it to be decided by a sense-object or a thought-object? For if they say by a sense-object, since we are inquiring about sensibles that object itself also will require another to confirm it; and if that too is to be a sense-object, it likewise will require another for its confirmation, and so on ad infinitum.
And if the sense-object shall have to be decided by a
thought-object, then, since thought-objects also are
controverted, this being an object of thought will
need examination and confirmation. Whence then
will it gain confirmation? If from an intelligible
object, it will suffer a similar regress ad infinitum;
and if from a sensible object, since an intelligible
was adduced to establish the sensible and a sensible
to establish the intelligible, the Mode of circular
reasoning
If, however, our disputant, by way of escape from
this conclusion, should claim to assume as granted
and without demonstration some postulate for the
demonstration of the next steps of his argument,
then the Mode of hypothesis will be brought in,
which allows no escape.
Further, if hypothesis conduces at all to proof, let the
subject of inquiry itself be assumed and not some other
thing which is merely a means to establish the actual
subject of the argument ; but if it is absurd to assume
the subject of inquiry, it will also be absurd to assume
that upon which it depends.
It is also plain that all sensibles are relative; for they are relative to those who have the sensations. Therefore it is apparent that whatever sensible object is presented can easily be referred to one of the Five Modes. And concerning the intelligible object we argue similarly. For if it should be said that it is a matter of unsettled controversy, the necessity of our suspending judgement will be granted.
And if, on the other hand, the controversy admits of decision, then if the decision rests on an intelligible object we shall be driven to the regress ad infinitum, and to circular reasoning if it rests on a sensible; for since the sensible again is controverted and cannot be decided by means of itself because of the regress ad infinitum, it will require the intelligible object, just as also the intelligible will require the sensible.
For these reasons, again, he who assumes anything by hypothesis will be acting illogically. Moreover, objects of thought, or intelligibles, are relative; for they are so named on account of their relation to the person thinking, and if they had really possessed the nature they are said to possess, there would have been no controversy about them. Thus the intelligible also is referred to the Five Modes, so that in all cases we are compelled to suspend judgement concerning the object presented.
Such then are the Five Modes handed down amongst the later Sceptics; but they propound these not by way of superseding the Ten Modes but in order to expose the rashness of the Dogmatists with more variety and completeness by means of the Five in conjunction with the Ten.
They hand down also Two other Modes leading
to suspension of judgement.
And the reason why they do not allow that
anything is apprehended through something
else is this: If that through which an object is
apprehended must always itself be apprehended
through some other thing, one is involved in a process
of circular reasoning or in regress ad infinitum.
And if, on the other hand, one should choose to
assume that the thing through which another object
is apprehended is itself apprehended through itself,
this is refuted by the fact that, for the reasons already
stated, nothing is apprehended through itself. But
as to how what conflicts with itself can possibly be
apprehended either through itself or through some
other thing we remain in doubt, so long as the criterion
of truth or of apprehension is not apparent, and signs,
even apart from demonstration, are rejected, as we
shall discover in our next Book.
For the present, however, it will suffice to have said thus much concerning the Modes leading to suspension of judgement.
Just as we teach the traditional Modes leading to suspense of judgement, so likewise some Sceptics propound Modes by which we express doubt about the particular ‟aetiologies,” or theories of causation, and thus pull up the Dogmatists because of the special pride they take in these theories. Thus Aenesidemus furnishes us with Eight Modes by which, as he thinks, he tests and exposes the unsoundness of every dogmatic theory of causation.
Of these the First, he says, is that which shows that, since aetiology as a whole deals with the non-apparent, it is unconfirmed by any agreed evidence derived from appearances. The Second Mode shows how often, when there is ample scope for ascribing the object of investigation to a variety of causes, some of them account for it in one way only.
The Third shows how to orderly events they assign causes which exhibit no order. The Fourth shows how, when they have grasped the way in which appearances occur, they assume that they have also apprehended how non-apparent things occur, whereas, though the non-apparent may possibly be realized in a similar way to the appearances, possibly they may not be realized in a similar way but in a peculiar way of their own.
In the Fifth Mode it is shown how practically all these theorists assign causes according to their own particular hypotheses about the elements, and not according to any commonly agreed methods. In the Sixth it is shown how they frequently admit only such facts as can be explained by their own theories, and dismiss facts which conflict therewith though possessing equal probability.
The Seventh shows how they often assign causes which conflict not only with appearances but also with their own hypotheses. The Eighth shows that often, when there is equal doubt about things seemingly apparent and things under investigation, they base their doctrine about things equally doubtful upon things equally doubtful.
Nor is it impossible, he adds, that the overthrow of some of their theories of causation should be referred to certain mixed Modes which are dependent on the foregoing.
Possibly, too, the Five Modes of suspension
But if, on the other hand, the cause propounded be not in accord therewith, the theorist will be asked in turn for the cause of this cause, and if he assumes an apparent cause for an apparent, or a non-evident for a non- evident, he will be involved in the regress ad infinitum, or reduced to arguing in a circle if he grounds each cause in turn on another. And if at any point he makes a stand, either he will state that the cause is well-grounded so far as relates to the previous admissions, thus introducing relativity and destroying its claim to absolute reality, or he will make some assumption ex hypothesi and will be stopped by us. So by these Modes also it is, no doubt, possible to expose the rashness of the Dogmatists in their aetiologies.
And because when we make use of these Modes
and those which lead to suspension of judgement we
give utterance to certain expressions
This expression, then, we sometimes enunciate
in the form I have stated but sometimes in the form
‟Nowise more.” For we do not, as some suppose,
adopt the form ‟Not more” in specific inquiries
and ‟Nowise more” in generic inquiries, but we
enunciate both ‟Not more” and ‟Nowise more”
indifferently, and we shall discuss them now as identical
expressions. This expression, then, is elliptical. For
just as when we say ‟a double” we are implicitly
saying ‟a double hearth,”
Some of the Sceptics, however, in place of the ‟Not”
adopt the form ”(For) what this more than that,”
taking the ‟what” to denote, in this case, cause,
so that the meaning is ‟For what reason this more
than that?”
And the expression ‟Not more this than that” indicates
also our feeling, whereby we come to end in equipoise
because of the equipollence of the opposed objects;
and by ‟equipollence” we mean equality in respect of
what seems probable to us, and by ‟opposed” we mean in
general conflicting, and by ‟equipoise”
Then as to the formula ‟Nowise more,” even though it exhibits the character of a form of assent or of denial, we do not employ it in this way, but we take it in a loose and inexact sense, either in place of a question or in place of the phrase ‟I know not to which of these things I ought to assent, and to which I ought not.” For our aim is to indicate what appears to us; while as to the expression by which we indicate this we are indifferent. This point, too, should be noticed—that we utter the expression ‟Nowise more” not as positively affirming that it really is true and certain, but as stating in regard to it also what appears to us.
Concerning non-assertion what we say is this. The term ‟assertion” has two senses, general and special; used in the general sense it indicates affirmation or negation, as for example ‟It is day,” ‟It is not day;” in its special sense it indicates affirmation only, and in this sense negations are not termed assertions. Non-assertion, then, is avoidance of assertion in the general sense in which it is said to include both affirmation and negation, so that non-assertion is a mental condition of ours because of which we refuse either to affirm or to deny anything.
Hence it is plain that we adopt non-assertion also not as though things are in reality of such a kind as wholly to induce non-assertion, but as indicating that we now, at the time of uttering it, are in this condition regarding the problems now before us. It must also be borne in mind that what, as we say, we neither posit nor deny, is some one of the dogmatic statements made about what is non-apparent; for we yield to those things which move us emotionally and drive us compulsorily to assent.
The formulae ‟perhaps” and ‟perhaps not,” and ‟possibly” and ‟possibly not,” and ‟maybe” and ‟maybe not,” we adopt in place of ‟perhaps it is and perhaps it is not,” and ‟possibly it is and possibly it is not,” and ‟maybe it is and maybe it is not,” so that for the sake of conciseness we adopt the phrase ‟possibly not” instead of ‟possibly it is not,” and ‟maybe not” instead of ‟maybe it is not,” and ‟perhaps not” instead of ‟perhaps it is not.”
But here again we do not fight about phrases nor do we
inquire whether the phrases indicate realities, but we
adopt them, as I said,
The phrase ‟I suspend judgement”
Regarding the phrase ‟I determine nothing” this is what we say. We hold that ‟to determine” is not simply to state a thing but to put forward something non-evident combined with assent. For in this sense, no doubt, it will be found that the Sceptic determines nothing, not even the very proposition ‟I determine nothing;” for this is not a dogmatic assumption, that is to say assent to something non-evident, but an expression indicative of our own mental condition. So whenever the Sceptic says ‟I determine nothing,” what he means is ‟I am now in such a state of mind as neither to affirm dogmatically nor deny any of the matters now in question.” And this he says simply by way of announcing undogmatically what appears to himself regarding the matters presented, not making any confident declaration, but just explaining his own state of mind.
Indetermination is a state of mind in which we
neither deny nor affirm any of the matters which are
subjects of dogmatic inquiry, that is to say, non-
evident. So whenever the Sceptic says ‟All things
are undetermined,” he takes the word ‟are” in the
sense of ‟appear to him,” and by ‟all things” he
means not existing things but such of the non-evident
matters investigated by the Dogmatists as he has
examined, and by ‟undetermined” he means not
superior in point of credibility or incredibility to
things opposed, or in any way conflicting.
And just as the man who says ”(I) walk about”
We adopt a similar attitude when we say ‟All
things are non-apprehensible.”
Both the expressions ‟I am non-apprehensive” and ‟I apprehend not” are indicative of a personal state of mind, in which the Sceptic, for the time being, avoids affirming or denying any non-evident matter of inquiry, as is obvious from what we have said above concerning the other expressions.
When we say ‟To every argument an equal argument
is opposed,” we mean ‟to every argument”
that has been investigated by us, and the word
‟argument” we use not in its simple sense, but of
that which establishes a point dogmatically (that is to
say with reference to what is non-evident) and
establishes it by any method, and not necessarily by means
of premisses and a conclusion.
So whenever I say ‟To every argument an equal argument is
opposed,” what I am virtually saying is ‟To every argument
investigated by me which establishes a point dogmatically,
it seems to me there is opposed another argument, establishing
a point dogmatically, which is equal to the first in respect
of credibility and incredibility;” so that the utterance of
the phrase is not a piece of dogmatism,
But some also utter the expression in the form
‟To every argument an equal argument is to be
opposed,”
And they address this injunction to the Sceptic lest
haply, through being misled by the Dogmatist, he may give
up the Sceptic search, and through precipitancy
miss the ‟quietude”
In a preliminary outline it will be sufficient to have explained the expressions now set forth, especially since it is possible to explain the rest by deductions from the foregoing. For, in regard to all the Sceptic expressions, we must grasp first the fact that we make no positive assertion respecting their absolute truth, since we say that they may possibly be confuted by themselves, seeing that they themselves are included in the things to which their doubt applies, just as aperient drugs do not merely eliminate the humours from the body, but also expel themselves along with the humours.
And we also say that we employ them not by way of
authoritatively explaining the things with reference
to which we adopt them, but without precision and, if
you like, loosely; for it does not become the Sceptic
to wrangle over expressions,
Besides this we must also remember that we do not employ
them universally about all things, but about those which
are non-evident and are objects of dogmatic inquiry; and
that we state what appears to us and do not make any
positive declarations as to the real nature of external
objects; for I think that, as a result of this, every
sophism
And now that we have reviewed the idea or purpose of Scepticism and its divisions, and the criterion and the end, and the modes, too, of suspension, and have discussed the Sceptic expressions, and have thus made clear the character of Scepticism, our next task is, we suppose, to explain briefly the distinction which exists between it and the philosophic systems which lie next to it, in order that we may more clearly understand the ‟suspensive” Way of thought. Let us begin with the Heracleitean philosophy.
Now that this latter differs from our Way of thought
is plain at once; for Heracleitus
for certainly no one would venture to say that honey
Rather it is the case that the Sceptic Way so far
from being an aid to the knowledge of the Heracleitean
philosophy is actually an obstacle thereto, seeing that
the Sceptic decries all the dogmatic statements of
Heracleitus as rash utterances, contradicting his
‟Ecpyrosis,”
But it is also said that the Democritean
So that in this respect also we differ, and our difference becomes specially evident when Democritus says ‟But in verity atoms and void” (for he says ‟In verity” in place of ‟In truth”); and that he differs from us when he says that the atoms and the void are in truth subsistent, although he starts out from the incongruity of appearances, it is superfluous, I think, to state.
Some assert that the Cyrenaic
Protagoras
And for this reason he seems also to have something in common with the Pyrrhoneans. Yet he differs from them, and we shall perceive the difference when we have adequately explained the views of Protagoras.
What he states then is this—that matter is in flux, and as it flows additions are made continuously in the place of the effluxions, and the senses are transformed and altered according to the times of life and to all the other conditions of the bodies.
He says also that the ‟reasons” of all the appearances
subsist in matter, so that matter, so far as depends
on itself, is capable of being all those things which
appear to all.
Moreover, precisely the same account applies to the variations due to age, and to the sleeping or waking state, and to each several kind of condition. Thus, according to him, Man becomes the criterion of real existences; for all things that appear to men also exist, and things that appear to no man have no existence either.
We see, then, that he dogmatizes about the fluidity of matter and also about the subsistence therein of the ‟reasons” of all appearances, these being non- evident matters about which we suspend judgement.
Some indeed say that the Academic philosophy
According to most people there have been three Academies—the first and most ancient that of Plato and his School, the second or middle Academy that of Arcesilaus, the pupil of Polemo, and his School, the third or New Academy that of the School of Carneades and Cleitomachus. Some, however, add as a fourth that of the School of Philo and Charmidas; and some even count the School of Antiochus as a fifth.
Beginning, then, with the Old Academy let us consider
how the philosophies mentioned differ
Plato has been described by some as ‟dogmatic,” by
others as ‟dubitative,” and by others again as partly
dogmatic and partly dubitative. For in his exercitatory
discourses,
Now as regards those who describe him as a dogmatist,
or as partly dogmatic and partly dubitative, it would
be superfluous to say anything now; for they themselves
acknowledge his difference from us. But the
question whether Plato is a genuine Sceptic is one
which we discuss more fully in our ‟Commentaries;”
And if Plato does really utter some statements in a
sceptical way when he is, as they say, ‟exercising,”
that will not make him a Sceptic; for the man that
dogmatizes about a single thing, or ever prefers one
impression to another in point of credibility or
incredibility, or makes any assertion about any
non-evident object, assumes the dogmatic character,
as Timon
For after praising him repeatedly, so that he even
dedicated to him his Satires, he represented him as
uttering this lamentation—
So on this account he also calls him ‟semi-vain,” and
not perfectly free from vanity, where he says—
He called him ‟semi-vain” as being in some degree
free from vanity, and ‟derider of Homer’s deceptions”
because he censured the deceit mentioned in
Homer.
Xenophanes, contrary to the preconceptions of all other men, asserted dogmatically that the All is one, and that God is consubstantial with all things, and is of spherical form and passionless and unchangeable and rational; and from this it is easy to show how Xenophanes differs from us. However, it is plain from what has been said that even if Plato evinces doubt about some matters, yet he cannot be a Sceptic inasmuch as he shows himself at times either making assertions about the reality of non-evident objects or preferring one non-evident thing to another in point of credibility.
The adherents of the New Academy, although they
affirm that all things are non-apprehensible, yet
differ from the Sceptics even, as seems probable, in
respect of this very statement that all things are
non-apprehensible (for they affirm this positively,
whereas the Sceptic regards it as possible that some
things may be apprehended); but they differ from
us quite plainly in their judgement of things good
and evil. For the Academicians do not describe a
thing as good or evil in the way we do; for they do
so with the conviction that it is more probable
And as regards sense-impressions, we say
And respecting the probable impressions they
make distinctions: some they regard as just simply
probable, others as probable and tested, others as
probable, tested, and ‟irreversible.”
but to the man who has looked carefully round and
has investigated the conditions—such as its immobility
and its colour, and each of its other peculiarities—it
appears as a rope, in accordance with an impression
that is probable and tested. And the impression that
is also ‟irreversible” or incontrovertible is of this
kind. When Alcestis had died, Heracles, it is said,
brought her up again from Hades and showed her to
Admetus, who received an impression of Alcestis that
was probable and tested; since, however, he knew
that she was dead his mind recoiled from its assent
and reverted to unbelief.
So then the philosophers of the New Academy prefer the probable and tested impression to the simply probable, and to both of these the impression that is probable and tested and irreversible.
And although both the Academics and the Sceptics say that they believe some things, yet here too the difference between the two philosophies is quite plain. For the word ‟believe” has different meanings:
it means not to resist but simply to follow without
any strong impulse or inclination, as the boy is said
to believe his tutor; but sometimes it means to
assent to a thing of deliberate choice and with a
kind of sympathy due to strong desire, as when
the incontinent man believes him who approves of
an extravagant mode of life. Since, therefore,
Carneades and Cleitomachus declare that a strong
inclination accompanies their credence and the
credibility of the object, while we
Furthermore, as regards the End (or aim of life)
Arcesilaus, however, who was, as we said,
He declares, too, that suspension regarding particular objects is good, but assent regarding particulars bad. Only one might say that whereas we make these statements not positively but in accordance with what appears to us, he makes them as statements of real facts, so that he asserts that suspension in itself really is good and assent bad.
And if one ought to credit also what is said about him,
he appeared at the first glance, they say, to be a
'Pyrrhonean, but in reality he was a dogmatist; and
because he used to test his companions by means of
dubitation to see if they were fitted by nature for
the reception of the Platonic dogmas, he was thought
to be a dubitative philosopher, but he actually passed
on to such of his companions as were naturally gifted
the dogmas of Plato. And this was why Ariston
Philo
Since some allege that the Sceptic philosophy
is identical with the Empiricism of the Medical
sect,
for it alone of the Medical systems appears to avoid rash
treatment of things non-evident by arbitrary assertions as
to their apprehensibility or non-apprehensibility, and
following appearances derives from them what seems beneficial,
in accordance with the practice of the Sceptics. For we stated
above
So then, just as the Sceptic, in virtue of the compulsion of the affections, is guided by thirst to drink and by hunger to food, and in like manner to other such objects, in the same way the Methodical physician is guided by the pathological affections to the corresponding remedies—by contraction to dilatation, as when one seeks refuge in heat from the contraction due to the application of cold, or by fluxion to the stoppage of it, as when persons in a hot bath, dripping with perspiration and in a relaxed condition, seek to put a stop to it and for this reason rush off into the cool air. It is plain, too, that conditions which are naturally alien compel us to take measures for their removal, seeing that even the dog when it is pricked by a thorn proceeds to remove it.
And in short—to avoid exceeding the limits proper to an outline of this kind by a detailed enumeration—I suppose that all the facts described by the Methodic School can be classed as instances of the compulsion of the affections, whether natural or against nature.
Besides, the use of terms in an undogmatic and indeterminate sense is common to both systems.
For just as the Sceptic uses the expressions ‟I determine
nothing” and ‟I apprehend nothing,” as we have
said, in an undogmatic sense, even so the Methodic
speaks of ‟generality”
Consequently, judging from these and similar indications, we should say that the Methodic School of Medicine has some affinity with Scepticism; and, when viewed not simply by itself, but in comparison with the other Medical Schools, it has more affinity than they.
And now that we have said thus much concerning the Schools which seem to stand nearest to that of the Sceptics, we here bring to a conclusion both our general account of Scepticism and the First Book of our ‟Outlines.”
Since we have undertaken this inquiry in criticism
of the Dogmatists,
For they
For just as he who is ignorant, for instance,
of the arguments known as ‟How far reduced”
Now let those who speak thus make answer and
tell us in what sense they are now using the term
‟apprehend,” whether simply of mental conception
without the further affirmation of the reality of the
objects under discussion, or with the further assumption
of the reality of the objects discussed. For
if they say that ‟to apprehend” means, in their
argument, to assent to an ‟apprehensive impression,”
Thus, for example, when the
Stoic criticizes the statement of the Epicurean that
‟Being is divided,”
And we must use a like argument against those who issue from any of the other Sects, whenever they desire to make any critical investigation of the tenets of those who differ from them in doctrine. consequently they are debarred from indulging in any criticism of one another. Or rather—to avoid talking nonsense—practically the whole of Dogmatism will be confounded and the Sceptic philosophy will be firmly established once it is granted that it is impossible to inquire regarding an object which is not, in this sense, apprehended.
For he who makes a
dogmatic statement about a non-evident object will
declare that he is making it either after having
apprehended or after having not apprehended it.
But if he has not apprehended it he will not gain
credence; while if he has apprehended it, he will
say that he has apprehended the object directly and
through itself and owing to the clear impression it
has made on him, or else by means of some kind of
search and inquiry.
But if he shall say that the non-evident object has impressed him and has been apprehended through itself, immediately and clearly, in this case the object would not be non-evident but apparent to all men equally, an acknowledged and uncontroverted fact. But about every single object that is non-evident there exists amongst them endless controversy; so that the Dogmatist who makes positive assertions about the reality of a non-evident object cannot have apprehended it because of its having made on him a direct and clear impression.
If, on the other hand, his apprehension is a result of
search, how was he in a position to make inquiry
before he had accurately apprehended the object,
without violating our present assumption? For since
the inquiry necessitates as a preliminary the existence
of an accurate apprehension of that which is to be
the subject of inquiry, while the apprehension of the
subject of inquiry demands, in its turn, the previous
existence of a complete inquiry into that subject,
owing to this circular process of reasoning
If, however, they say that it is not this kind of apprehension that ought, in their view, to precede inquiry, but simply mental conception, then it is no longer impossible for those who suspend judgement to inquire about the reality of things non-evident. For the Sceptic is not, I suppose, prohibited from mental conception which arises through the reason itself as a result of passive impressions and clear appearances and does not at all involve the reality of the objects conceived; for we conceive, as they say, not only of real things but also of unreal. Hence both while inquiring and while conceiving the Suspensive person continues in the Sceptical state of mind. For, as has been shown, he assents to what he experiences by way of subjective impression, according as that impression appears to him.
But consider whether, even in this case, the Dogmatists are not precluded from inquiry. For to continue the investigation of problems is not inconsistent in those who confess their ignorance of their real nature, but only in those who believe they have an exact knowledge of them; since for the latter the inquiry has already, as they suppose, reached its goal, whereas for the former the ground on which all inquiry is based—namely, the belief that they have not found the truth—still subsists.
Thus we have to inquire briefly, on the present
occasion, concerning each several division of philosophy
so called. And since there exists much dispute
amongst the Dogmatists regarding the divisions of
philosophy
The Stoics, then, and several others,
But first we must notice that the word ‟criterion”
is used both of that by which, as they say, we judge
of reality and non-reality, and of that which we use
as the guide of life; and our present task is to discuss
the so-called criterion of truth, since we have already
dealt with the criterion in its other sense in our
discourse ‟On Scepticism.”
The criterion, then, with which our argument is
concerned, has three several meanings—the general,
the special, and the most special. In the ‟general”
sense it is used of every standard of apprehension,
and in this sense we speak even of physical organs,
such as sight, as criteria. In the ‟special” sense
it includes every technical standard of apprehension,
such as the rule and compass. In the ‟most
special” sense it includes every technical standard
of apprehension of a non-evident object; but in this
application ordinary standards
We propose, therefore, in the first place to discuss the
logical criterion. But the logical criterion also may
be used in three senses
It was appropriate, I consider, to make these prefatory observations so that we may realize what is the exact subject of our discourse; and it remains for us to proceed to our counter-statement aimed against those who rashly assert that they have apprehended the criterion of truth, and we will begin with the dispute which exists about this question.
Of those, then, who have treated of the criterion
some have declared that a criterion exists—the Stoics,
for example, and certain others—while by some its
existence is denied, as by the Corinthian Xeniades,
This dispute,
Besides, in order to decide the dispute which has arisen about the criterion, we must possess an accepted criterion by which we shall be able to judge the dispute; and in order to possess an accepted criterion, the dispute about the criterion must first be decided. And when the argument thus reduces itself to a form of circular reasoning the discovery of the criterion becomes impracticable, since we do not allow them to adopt a criterion by assumption, while if they offer to judge the criterion by a criterion we force them to a regress ad infinitum. And furthermore, since demonstration requires a demonstrated criterion, while the criterion requires an approved demonstration, they are forced into circular reasoning.
We suppose, then, that this is sufficient to expose the rashness of the Dogmatists in respect of their doctrine of the Criterion; but in order to enable us to confute them in detail, it will not be out of place to dwell at length upon this topic. We do not, however, desire to oppose their opinions about the criterion severally, one by one—for their controversy is endless, and to do so would necessarily involve us as well in a confused discussion,—but inasmuch as the criterion in question is three-fold (the agent, the instrument, and the ‟according to what”), we shall discuss each of these in turn and establish the non- apprehensibility of each, since in this way our exposition will be at once both methodical and complete. Let us begin with the agent; for the perplexity which attaches to this seems somehow to involve the rest as well.
Now ‟Man” (if he is ‟the agent”) seems to me,
so far as regards the statements made by the
Dogmatists, to be not only non-apprehensible but also
inconceivable. At least we hear the Platonic Socrates
Thus Democritus
And it is evident from the relevance of this criticism that we are not now arguing sophistically. For this thinker proceeds to say that ‟Only the atoms and the void truly exist,” and these he says ‟form the substrate not only of animals but of all compound substances,” so that, so far as depends on these, we shall not form a concept of the particular essence of ‟Man,” seeing that they are common to all things. But besides these there is no existing substrate; so that we shall possess no means whereby we shall be able to distinguish Man from the other animals and form a precise conception of him.
Again, Epicurus says that Man is ‟This sort
of a shape combined with vitality.”
Others
And the attributes contained in this definition are used either in an ‟actual,” or
full, or in a potential sense;
In this way, then, the concept of Man is shown to be one which it is impossible to frame.
For when Plato
But even if we should grant, by way of concession,
that Man can be conceived, yet he will be found
to be non-apprehensible. For he is compounded of
soul and body, and neither body nor soul perchance
Now that body is not apprehended is easily shown
thus: the attributes of an object
But, not to dwell on the controversy about the
body, Man is also found to be non-apprehensible
owing to the fact that his soul is non-apprehensible.
That it is non-apprehensible is plain from this: of
those who have treated of the soul—so that we may
avoid dwelling on the long and endless controversy
—some have asserted, as did Dicaearchus
If, then, the Dogmatists shall maintain that this dispute is incapable of decision, they will be admitting thereby the non-apprehensibility of the soul, while if they say it is capable of decision, let them tell us by what means they will decide it. For they cannot say ‟by sense-perception,” since the soul is said by them to be an object of intelligence; and if they shall say ‟by the intellect,” we will say that inasmuch as the intellect is the least evident part of the soul—as is shown by those who agree about the real existence of the soul, though differing about the intellect,
—if they propose to apprehend the soul and to decide the dispute about it by means of the intellect, they will be proposing to decide and establish the less questionable matter by the more questionable, which is absurd. Thus, neither by the intellect will the dispute about the soul be decided; therefore there is no means to decide it. And this being so, it is non-apprehensible; and, in consequence, Man too will not be apprehended.
But even supposing we grant that Man is
apprehended, it would not, probably, be possible to show
that objects ought to be judged by him. For he who
asserts that objects ought to be judged by Man will
be asserting this either without proof or with proof.
And if it shall be asserted without proof that objects ought to be judged by Man, the assertion will be disbelieved, so that we shall be unable to affirm positively that the criterion ‟By whom” (or Agent) is Man. Moreover, who is to be the judge that the criterion of the Agent is Man? For if they assert this without a judgement (or criterion) they will surely not be believed.
Yet if they say that a man is to be the
judge, that will be assuming the point at issue;
But let it be granted and established that objects
ought to be judged by Man. Then, since there exists
great difference amongst men, let the Dogmatists
first agree together that this is the particular man to
whom we must attend, and then, and only then, let
them bid us also to yield him our assent. But if they
are going to dispute about this ‟long as the waters
flow on and the tall trees cease not to burgeon” (to
quote the familiar saying),
For if they declare that we must believe the Sage, we shall ask them ‟What Sage?” Is it the Sage of Epicurus or of the Stoics, the Cyrenaic Sage or the Cynic? For they will be unable to return a unanimous answer.
And if anyone shall demand that we should desist from our inquiry about the Sage and simply believe the man who is more sagacious than all others, then, in the first place, they will dispute as to who is more sagacious than the rest, and in the next place, even if it be granted that it can be unanimously agreed who the man is who is more sagacious than those of the present and the past, even so this man will not deserve credence.
For inasmuch as sagacity is liable to a great, indeed almost incalculable, advance or decline in intensity, we assert that it is possible for another man to arise who is more sagacious than this man who, we say, is more sagacious than those of the past and present. So, then, just as we are requested to believe the man who is now said to be wiser than those of the present and the past because of his sagacity, so it is still more proper to believe his successor in the future who will be more sagacious than he. And when that successor has arisen, then it is right to expect that yet another will arise more sagacious than he, and so on ad infinitum.
Nor is it evident whether all these men will agree with one another or contradict one another. And consequently, even when one of them is acknowledged to be more sagacious than those of the past and present, seeing that we are unable to affirm positively that no man will be more clever than he (this being non-evident), we shall always have to wait for the judgement of the more sagacious man of the future, and never give our assent to this superior person.
And even should we grant, by way of concession, that no one either is, was, or will be more sagacious than our hypothetical Sage, not even so is it proper to believe him. For since it is the sagacious above all who, in the construction of their doctrines, love to champion unsound doctrines and to make them appear sound and true, whenever this sharp-witted person makes a statement we shall not know whether he is stating the matter as it really is, or whether he is defending as true what is really false and persuading us to think of it as something true, on the ground that he is more sagacious than all other men and therefore incapable of being refuted by us. So not even to this man will we assent, as one who judges matters truly, since, though we suppose it possible that he speaks the truth, we also suppose that owing to his excessive cleverness he makes his statements with the object of defending false propositions as true. Consequently, in the judgement of propositions we ought not to believe even the man who is thought to be the most clever of all.
And if anyone shall say that we ought to attend to
the consensus of the majority, we shall reply that this
is idle.
And besides all this, those who agree are either
in diverse dispositions
besides the further fact that—as we pointed out in ‟The Fourth
Mode of Scepticism”
But if we are not even to give heed to numbers, we shall not find anyone by whom objects are to be judged, in spite of our having granted so much by way of concession. Therefore, on all these grounds, the criterion ‟By whom” objects are to be judged is found to be non-apprehensible.
And seeing that the other criteria are included in
this one, since each of them is either a part or an
affection or an activity of Man, our next task might
perhaps have been to proceed in our discussion to one
of the subjects which follows next in order, supposing
that those criteria also have been sufficiently dealt
with in what we have now said; yet in order that we
may not seem to be shirking the specific counter-
statement proper to each case, we will exceed our
brief
Concerning this criterion
Let us begin with the senses.
Since, then, some
So then the question whether the senses have illusory affections or apprehend some real object will be incapable of either decision or apprehension; and there follows the corollary, that we must not attend to sensation alone in our judgement of matters, since regarding it we cannot so much as affirm that it apprehends anything at all.
But let it be granted, by way of concession, that
the senses are apprehensive; yet, even so they will
not be found any the less unreliable for judging the
external real objects. For certainly the senses are
affected in diverse ways by external objects—taste,
for instance, perceives the same honey now as bitter
and now as sweet; and vision pronounces the same
colour now blood-red and now white.
Nay, even smell is not consistent with itself; for certainly the sufferer from headache declares myrrh to be unpleasant, while one who does not so suffer calls it pleasant. And those who are possessed or in a frenzy fancy they hear persons conversing with them whom we do not hear. And the same water seems to those in a fever to be unpleasant because of its excessive heat, but to all others tepid.
Whether, then, one is to call all the appearances true, or some true and some false, or all false, it is impossible to say since we possess no agreed criterion whereby we shall judge the question we are proposing to decide, nor are we even provided with a proof that is true and approved, because we are still in search of the criterion of truth ‟By means of which” the true proof itself ought to be tested.
For these reasons he also who asks us to believe those who are in a natural state, but not those whose disposition is non-natural, will be acting absurdly; for he will not gain credence if he says this without proof, and, for the reasons given above, he will not possess a true and approved proof.
And even were one to concede that the sense-
impressions of those in a natural state are reliable,
and those of men in a non-natural condition unreliable,
even so the judgement of external real objects
by means of the senses alone will be found to be
impossible. For certainly the sense of sight, even
when it is in a natural state, pronounces the same
tower
and the sense of hearing likewise perceives the same sound as loud
by night but as faint by day; and the sense of smell
regards the same objects as malodorous in the case
of most people, but not so in the case of tanners;
and the same sense of touch feels warmth in the outer
hall,
Let us, then, proceed in our exposition to the
intellect. Now those who claim
But let it be granted that the intellect has been
apprehended, and let us agree, by way of assumption,
that it really exists; I still affirm that it cannot judge
objects. For if it does not even discern itself accurately
but contradicts itself about its own existence
and the mode of its origin and the position in which
it is placed,
And even if it be granted that the intellect is capable of judging objects, we shall not discover how to judge according to it. For since there exists great divergence in respect of the intellect—for the intellect of Gorgias, according to which he states that nothing exists, is one kind, and another kind is that of Heracleitus, according to which he declares that all things exist, and another that of those who say that some things do and others do not exist—we shall have no means of deciding between these divergent intellects, nor shall we be able to assert that it is right to take this man’s intellect as our guide but not that man’s.
For if we venture to judge by any one intellect, by thus agreeing to assent to one side in the dispute we shall be assuming the matter in question; while if we judge by anything else, we shall be falsifying the assertion that one ought to judge objects by the intellect alone.
Further, we shall be able to show, from the statements made concerning the criterion ‟By whom” (as it is called), that we are unable to discover the intellect that is cleverer than all others; and also that if we should discover the intellect that is cleverer than past and present intellects
we ought not to attend to it, since it is not evident whether yet another intellect may not arise which is cleverer than it; and further, that even if we assume an intellect which none could possibly surpass, we shall not assent to the man who judges by means of it, dreading lest he may put forward some false statement and succeed in persuading us of its truth because he possesses the keenest intellect. Neither, then, by the intellect alone ought we to judge objects.
The only remaining alternative is judgement by
means of both senses and intellect.
Then there is this also to be said: they will judge objects either by all the senses and by all men’s intellects or by some. But if a man shall say ‟by all,” he will be claiming what is impossible in view of the immense discrepancy which obviously exists amongst the senses and the intellects; and moreover, by reason of the assertion of Gorgias’s intellect that ‟we must not give heed either to sense or to intellect,” the man’s statement will be demolished. And if they shall say ‟by some,” how will they decide that we ought to give heed to these senses and this intellect and not to those, seeing that they possess no accepted criterion by which to judge the differing senses and intellects?
And if they shall say that we will judge the senses and the intellects by the intellect and the senses, they are assuming the matter in question; for what we are questioning is the possibility of judging by means of these.
Another point we must make is this: either one will judge both the senses and the intellects by the senses, or both the senses and the intellects by the intellects, or the senses by the senses and the intellect by the intellects, or the intellects by the senses and the senses by the intellect. If then they shall propose to judge both objects by the senses or by the intellect, they will no longer be judging by sense and intellect but by one of these two, whichever one they may choose, and thus they will be entangled in the perplexities previously mentioned.
And if they shall judge the senses by the senses and the intellects by the intellect, then, since both senses conflict with senses and intellects with intellects, whichever of the conflicting senses they shall adopt for judging the rest of the senses, they will be assuming the matter in question; for they will be adopting one section of the series in dispute, as being already reliable, to decide about the others which, equally with it, are in question.
And the same argument applies to the intellects. And if they shall judge the intellects by the senses, and the senses by the intellect, this involves circular reasoning inasmuch as it is required that the intellects should be judged first in order that the senses may be judged, and the senses be first scrutinized in order that the intellects may be tested.
Since, therefore, criteria of the one species cannot be judged by those of a like species, nor those of both the species by those of one species, nor conversely by those of an unlike species, we shall not be able to prefer intellect to intellect or sense to sense. And because of this we shall have nothing by which to judge; for if we shall be unable to judge by all the senses and intellects, and shall not know either by which of them we ought and by which we ought not to judge, then we shall possess no means by which to judge objects.
Consequently, for these reasons also the criterion ‟By means of which” will have no real existence.
Let us consider next the Criterion ‟According to
which,” as they
Yet even if ‟presentation” could be conceived, it would
still be non-apprehensible; for since it is an affection
of the regent part, and the regent part, as we have
shown,
Further, even were we to grant that the ‟presentation”
is apprehended, objects cannot be judged
according to it; for the intellect, as they assert, does
not make contact with external objects and receive
presentations by means of itself but by means of
the senses, and the senses do not apprehend external
real objects but only, if at all, their own affections.
And if this affection differs from the external real object, the presentation will not be that of the external reality but of something else which is different therefrom. If, therefore, the intellect judges according to this, it judges badly and not according to reality. Consequently, it is absurd to say that external objects are judged according to the presentation.
Nor, again, is it possible to assert that the soul
apprehends external realities by means of the affections
of sense owing to the similarity of the affections
of the senses to the external real objects. For how
is the intellect to know whether the affections of the
senses are similar to the objects of sense when it has
not itself encountered the external objects, and the
senses do not inform it about their real nature but
only about their own affections, as I have argued
from the Modes of Suspension?
For just as the man who does not know Socrates but has seen a picture of him does not know whether the picture is like Socrates, so also the intellect when it gazes on the affections of the senses but does not behold the external objects will not so much as know whether the affections of the senses are similar to the external realities. So that not even on the ground of resemblance will he be able to judge these objects according to the presentation.
But let us grant by way of concession that in
addition to being conceived and apprehended the
presentation is also such that it admits of objects
being judged according to it, although the argument
points to an entirely opposite conclusion. In this
case we shall either believe every presentation, or
impression, and judge according thereto, or some one
impression. But if we are to believe every impression,
clearly we shall believe also that of Xeniades
And if we are to believe some, how shall we decide that it is proper to believe these and disbelieve those? For if they say we are to do so without presentation, they will be granting that presentation is superfluous for judging, inasmuch as they will be stating that objects can be judged without it; while if they say ‟by the aid of presentation,” how will they select the presentation which they are adopting for the purpose of judging all the other presentations?
Once again they will need a second presentation to judge the first, and a third to judge the second, and so on ad infinitum. But it is impossible to judge an infinite series; and therefore it is impossible to discover what sort of presentations we ought to employ as criteria, and what we ought not. Seeing, then, that, even should we grant that one ought to judge objects according to presentations, whether we adopt the alternative of trusting all as criteria or that of trusting some and distrusting others, in either case the argument is overthrown, and we are forced to conclude that we ought not to adopt presentations as criteria for the judging of objects.
This is enough to say now, in our outline sketch,
with reference to the criterion ‟According to which,”
as it was said, objects are judged. But one should
notice that we do not propose to assert that the
criterion of truth is unreal
Even were we to grant, by way of hypothesis, that
a criterion of truth exists, it is found to be useless and
vain if we recall that, so far as the statements of the
Dogmatists go, truth is unreal and the true non-
substantial.
The passage we recall is this: ‟The
true is said to differ from truth in three ways—in
essence, composition, potency. In essence, since the
true is incorporeal (for it is judgement and ‟expression”
In composition, because the true is a simple thing, as for
example ‘I converse,’ whereas truth is a compound
of many true cognitions.
In potency, since truth depends on knowledge but the true does not altogether so depend. Consequently, as they say, truth exists only in the good man, but the true in the bad man as well; for it is possible for the bad man to utter something true.”
Such are the statements of the Dogmatists.
But awe,—having regard here again to the plan of our treatise,—shall confine our present discussion to the true, since its refutation entails that of truth as well, it being defined as the ‟system of the knowledge of things true.” Again, since some of our arguments, whereby we dispute the very existence of the true, are more general, others of a specific kind, whereby we prove that the true does not exist in utterance or in expression or in the movement of the intellect, we deem it sufficient for the present to set forth only those of the more general kind. For just as, when the foundation of a wall collapses, all the super- structure collapses along with it, so also, when, the substantial existence of the true is refuted, all the particular inventions of the logic of the Dogmatists are included in the refutation.
Seeing, then, that there is a controversy amongst the Dogmatists regarding ‟the true,” since some assert that something true exists, others that nothing true exists, it is impossible to decide the controversy, because the man who says that something true exists will not be believed without proof, on account of the controversy; and if he wishes to offer proof, he will be disbelieved if he acknowledges that his proof is false, whereas if he declares that his proof is true he becomes involved in circular reasoning and will be required to show proof of the real truth of his proof, and another proof of that proof, and so on ad infinitum. But it is impossible to prove an infinite series; and so it is impossible also to get to know that something true exists.
Moreover, the ‟something,” which is, they declare,
the highest genus of all,
And if the ‟something” is true, all things will be true; and from this again it follows that nothing is true, since this statement itself (I mean that ‟nothing is true”) being ‟something” is true. And if the ‟something” is both false and true, each of its particulars will be both false and true. From which we conclude that nothing is really true; for that which has its real nature such that it is true will certainly not be false. And if the ‟something” is neither false nor true, it is acknowledged that all the particulars also, being declared to be neither false nor true, will not be true. So for these reasons it will be non-evident to us whether the true exists.
Furthermore, the true things are either apparent
only, or non-evident only, or in part non-evident and
in part apparent;
And if it is apparent, since the matter in question is what apparent things are true and what false, that apparent thing which is adopted for the purpose of judging the apparent objects will itself in turn require an apparent criterion, and this again another, and so on ad infinitum. But it is impossible to judge an infinite series; and hence it is impossible to apprehend whether the true things are apparent only.
Similarly also he who declares that the non-evident
only are true will not imply that they are all true (for
he will not say that it is true that the stars
The remaining alternative is to say that of the true some are apparent, some non-evident; but this too is absurd. For either all the apparent and all the non-evident are true, or some of the apparent and some of the non-evident. If, then, we say ‟all,” the argument will again be overthrown, since the truth is granted of the statement ‟nothing is true,” and the truth will be asserted of both the statements ‟the stars are even in number” and ‟they are odd.”
But if some of the apparent are true and some of the non-evident, how shall we judge that of the apparent these are true but those false? For if we do so by means of an apparent thing, the argument is thrown back ad infinitum; and if by means of a thing non-evident, then, since the non-evidents also require to be judged, by what means is this non-evident thing to be judged? If by an apparent thing, we fall into circular reasoning; and if by a thing non-evident, into the regress ad infinitum.
And about the non-evident we must make a similar statement; for he who attempts to judge them by something non- evident is thrown back ad infinitum, while he who judges by a thing apparent or with the constant assistance of a thing apparent falls back ad infinitum, or, if he passes over to the apparent, is guilty of circular reasoning. It is false, therefore, to say that of the true some are apparent, some non-evident.
If, then, neither the apparent nor the non-evident
alone are true, nor yet some apparent and some non-
evident things, nothing is true. But if nothing is
true, and the criterion seems to require the true for
the purpose of judging, the criterion is useless and
vain, even if we grant, by way of concession, that it
possesses some substantial reality. And if we have
to suspend judgement as to whether anything true
exists, it follows that those who declare that ‟dialectic
is the science of things true and false and neither”
And since the criterion of truth has appeared to be unattainable, it is no longer possible to make positive assertions either about those things which (if we may depend on the statements of the Dogmatists) seem to be evident or about those which are non-evident; for since the Dogmatists suppose they apprehend the latter from the things evident, if we are forced to suspend judgement about the evident, how shall we dare to make pronouncements about the non- evident?
Yet, by way of super-addition,
Of objects, then, some, according to the Dogmatists,
though patent in their nature, are occasionally rendered non-
evident to us owing to certain external circumstances,
Now the pre-evident objects, they say, do not require a sign, for they are apprehended of themselves. And neither do the altogether non-evident, since of course they are not even apprehended at all. But such objects as are occasionally or naturally non-evident are apprehended by means of signs— not of course by the same signs, but by ‟suggestive” signs in the case of the occasionally non-evident and by ‟indicative” signs in the case of the naturally non-evident.
Of the signs, then, according to them, some are
suggestive, some indicative.
An ‟indicative” sign, they say, is that which is not
clearly associated with the thing signified, but signifies
that whereof it is a sign by its own particular nature
and constitution, just as, for instance, the bodily
motions are signs of the soul. Hence, too, they define
this sign as follows: ‟An indicative sign is an antecedent
judgement, in a sound hypothetical syllogism,
Seeing, then, that there are, as we have said, two different kinds of sign, we do not argue against every sign but only against the indicative kind as it seems to be invented by the Dogmatists. For the suggestive sign is relied on by living experience, since when a man sees smoke fire is signified, and when he beholds a scar he says that there has been a wound. Hence, not only do we not fight against living experience, but we even lend it our support by assenting undogmatically to what it relies on, while opposing the private inventions of the Dogmatists.
These prefatory remarks it was, perhaps, fitting to make for the sake of elucidating the object of our inquiry. It remains for us to proceed to our refutation, not in any anxiety to show that the indicative sign is wholly unreal, but reminding ourselves of the apparent equivalence of the arguments adduced for its reality and for its unreality.
Now the sign, judging by the statements of the
Dogmatists about it, is inconceivable. Thus, for
instance, the Stoics, who seem to have defined it
exactly, in attempting to establish the conception of
the sign, state that ‟A sign is an antecedent judgement
in a valid hypothetical syllogism, which serves
to reveal the consequent;” and ‟judgement” they
define as ‟A self-complete expression
For either the syllogism begins with the true and ends with the true (e.g. ‟If there is day, there is light”), or it begins with what is false and ends in falsehood (like ‟If the earth flies, the earth is winged”), or it begins with truth and ends in falsehood (like ‟If the earth exists, the earth flies”), or it begins with falsehood and ends in truth (like ‟If the earth flies, the earth exists”). And they say that of these only that which begins with truth and ends in falsehood is invalid, and the rest valid.
‟Antecedent,” they say, is ‟the precedent
clause in a hypothetical syllogism which begins in
truth and ends in truth.” And it ‟serves to reveal the
consequent,” since in the syllogism ‟If this woman
has milk, she has conceived,” the clause ‟If this
woman has milk” seems to be evidential of the clause
‟she has conceived.”
Such is the Stoic doctrine. But we assert, firstly, that it is non-evident whether any ‟expression” exists. For since some of the Dogmatists, the Epicureans, declare that expression does not exist, others, the Stoics, that it does exist, when the Stoics assert its existence they are employing either mere assertion or demonstration as well. If assertion, then the Epicureans will confute them with the assertion which states that no expression exists. But if they shall adduce demonstration, then since demonstration is composed of expressed judgements, and because it is composed of expressions will be unable to be adduced to confirm the existence of expression (for how will he who refuses to allow the existence of expression grant the reality of a system compounded of expressions?),
—it follows that the man who attempts to establish the existence of expression from the reality of the system of expressions is proposing to confirm the problematic by the problematic. If, then, it is impossible to establish either simply or by means of demonstration that any expression exists, it is non-evident that any expression exists.
So, too, with the question whether judgement exists; for the judgement is a form of expression.
And very possibly, even should it be granted by
way of assumption that expression exists, judgement
will be found to be non-existent, it being compounded
of expressions not mutually co-existent.
But passing over this objection, it will be found that
the valid hypothetical syllogism is non-apprehensible.
For Philo
‟If atomic elements of things
do not exist, atomic elements exist,” seems true,
since it begins with the false clause ‟atomic elements
do not exist” and will end, according to him, with
the true clause ‟atomic elements exist.” And
those who introduce ‟connexion,” or ‟coherence,”
And those who judge by ‟implication”
Probably, then, it will not seem feasible to get this
controversy resolved. For whether we prefer any one
of the above-mentioned rival views without proof or
by the aid of proof, in neither case shall we gain
credence. For proof itself is held to be valid whenever
its conclusion follows the combination of its
premisses as the consequent follows the antecedent;
thus, for example—‟If it is day it is light; but in
fact it is day; therefore it is light:” ‟If it is day it
is light,” ‟it is day and also it is light.”
But when we inquire how we are to judge the logical sequence of the consequent in its relation to the antecedent, we are met with the argument in a circle. For in order to prove the judgement upon the hypothetical syllogism, the conclusion of the proof must follow logically from its premisses, as we said above; and, in turn, in order to establish this, the hypothetical syllogism and its logical sequence must be tested; and this is absurd.
So then the valid hypothetical syllogism is non-apprehensible.
But the ‟antecedent” also is unintelligible. For
the antecedent, as they assert, is ‟the leading clause
in a hypothetical syllogism of the kind which begins
with a truth and ends in a truth.”
But if the sign serves to reveal the consequent, the consequent is either pre-evident or non-evident. If, then, it is pre-evident, it will not so much as need the thing which is to reveal it but will be apprehended along with it and will not be the object signified thereby, and hence also the thing mentioned will not be a ‟sion” of the object. But if the consequent is non- evident, seeing that there exists an unsettled controversy about things non-evident, as to which of them are true, which false, and in general whether any of them is true, it will be non-evident whether the hypothetical syllogism ends in a true consequent. And this involves the further fact that it is non- evident whether the leading clause in the syllogism is the logical antecedent.
But to pass over this
objection also, the sign cannot serve to reveal the
consequent, if the thing signified is relative to the
sign and is, therefore, apprehended along with it. For
relatives are apprehended along with each other;
and just as ‟right” cannot be apprehended as ‟right
of left” before ‟left,” nor vice versa—and the same
holds good of all other relative terms,—so neither will
it be possible for the sign, as ‟sign of signified,” to be
apprehended before the thing signified.
And if the sign is not apprehended before the thing signified, neither can it really serve to reveal the actual thing which is apprehended along with itself and not after itself.
Thus also, so far as we may judge by the usual statements of the dissenting philosophers (the Stoics), the sign is inconceivable. For they assert that it is both relative and serving to reveal the thing signified, in relation to which they say it was.
Accordingly, if it is relative and in relation to the thing signified it certainly ought to be apprehended along with the thing signified, as is ‟left” with ‟right,” ‟up” with ‟down,” and the rest of the relative terms. Whereas, if it serves to reveal the thing signified, it certainly ought to be apprehended before it, in order that by being foreknown it may lead us to a conception of the object which comes to be known by means of it.
But it is impossible to form a conception of an object which cannot be known before the thing before which it must necessarily be apprehended; and so it is impossible to conceive of an object which is both relative and also really serves to reveal the thing in relation to which it is thought. But the sign is, as they affirm, both relative and serving to reveal the thing signified; wherefore it is impossible to conceive of the sign.
Furthermore, there is this also to be said. Amongst
our predecessors there existed a controversy, some
declaring that an indicative sign exists, others
maintaining that no indicative sign exists.
For since proof is stated
to come under the genus sign,
And if it is not possible
either simply or with the aid of proof to make a
positive declaration about the sign, it is impossible
to make an apprehensive affirmation
But there is this further to be said. Either the signs
are apparent only or non-evident only, or some are
apparent and some non-evident.
Now that all the signs are not non-evident is shown by the following argument. The non-evident does not become apparent of itself, as the Dogmatists assert, but is perceived by means of something else. The sign, therefore, if it were non-evident, would require another non-evident sign—since, according to the hypothesis assumed, there is no apparent sign —and this again a third, and so on ad infinitum. But it is impossible to grasp an infinite series of signs; and so it is impossible for the sign to be apprehended when it is non-evident. And for this reason it will also be unreal, as it is unable to signify anything and to be a sign owing to its not being apprehended.
And if all the signs are apparent, then, because
the sign is a relative thing and in relation to the
thing signified, and relatives are apprehended conjointly,
And if the thing signified is apparent, it will not even be signified, as it requires nothing to signify and reveal it. Hence, just as when ‟right” is abolished there exists no ‟left,” so when the thing signified is abolished there can exist no sign, so that the sign is found to be unreal, if one should declare that the signs are apparent only.
It remains to declare that of the signs some are apparent, others non-evident; but even so the difficulties remain. For the things said to be signified by the apparent signs will, as we said before, be apparent and require nothing to signify them, and will not even be things signified at all, so that neither will the signs be signs, as not signifying anything.
And as to the non-evident signs which need things
to reveal them, if we say that they are signified by
things non-evident, the argument will be involved in
a regress ad infinitum, rendering them non-apprehensible
and therefore unreal, as we said before;
If, therefore, the signs are neither all apparent nor all non-evident, nor yet some of the signs apparent and some non-evident, and besides these there is no other alternative, as they themselves affirm, then the so-called signs will be unreal.
So then these few arguments out of many will be enough for the present to suggest to us the non-existence of an indicative sign. Next, we shall set forth those which go to suggest the existence of a sign, in order that we may exhibit the equipollence of the counter-balancing arguments.
Either, then, the phrases used in criticism of the
sign signify something or they signify nothing.
Further, the arguments against the sign are either probative or non-probative; but if they are non-probative they do not prove the non- existence of a sign; while if they are probative, since proof, as serving to reveal the conclusion, belongs to the genus sign, sign will exist. Whence this argument also is propounded: ‟If sign exists, sign exists; and if sign exists not, sign exists; for the non- existence of sign is shown by proof, which is a form of sign. But sign either exists or exists not; therefore sign exists.”
And this argument is counter- balanced by the following argument: ‟If any sign does not exist, sign does not exist; and if sign is that which the Dogmatists declare sign to be, sign does not exist (for the sign under discussion, accord- ing to the conception of it and as stated to be both relative and serving to reveal the thing signified, is found to be unreal, as we have shown).
But sign either exists or exists not; therefore sign does not exist.”
Regarding also the phrases used in support of the
sign,
In short, then, since such plausible arguments are
adduced both for the existence and for the non-
existence of sign, we must declare that sign is ‟no
more”
Now it is plain from this that neither is proof a
matter upon which there is agreement; for if we
suspend judgement about the sign, and proof also is
a sign,
If,however, one ought to devote a separate discussion to proof, I shall proceed to treat of it concisely after endeavouring first to explain shortly the definition they give of proof.
Proof is, as they assert, ‟an argument which, by means of agreed premisses, reveals by way of deduction a non-evident inference.” What their statement means will be made clearer by what follows. ‟An argument is a system composed of premisses and an inference.
The premisses of it are (it is said) the judgements adopted by consent for the establishment of the inference, and the inference is the judgement established by the premisses.” For example, in the argument ‟If it is day, it is light; but it is in truth day; therefore it is light,” the clause ‟therefore it is light” is a conclusion, and the rest are premisses.
And of arguments some are conclusive, some inconclusive—
conclusive when the hypothetical syllogism
And of the conclusive arguments some are true,
some not true—true when not only the syllogism
formed by the combination of the premisses and the
inference is valid,
For an argument such as this—‟If it is night, it is dark; but in fact it is night; therefore it is dark”—is indeed conclusive, since the syllogism ‟it is night, and if it is night it is dark, therefore it is dark” is a valid one, but, when it is day-time, it is not true. For the antecedent combination—‟it is night, and if it is night it is dark”—is false since it contains the falsehood ‟it is night;” for the combination which contains a falsehood is false. Hence they also say that a true argument is that which deduces a true conclusion from true premisses.
Of true arguments, again, some are ‟probative,”
some ‟non-probative;” and the probative are those
which deduce something non-evident by means of
pre-evident premisses, the non-probative those not of
this sort.
And of arguments which deduce something non- evident, some conduct us through the premisses to the conclusion by way of progression only, others both by way of progression and by way of discovery as well. By progression, for instance, are those which seem to depend on belief and memory, such as the argument ‟If a god has said to you that this man will be rich, this man will be rich; but this god (assume that I point to Zeus) has said to you that this man will be rich; therefore he will be rich;” for we assent to the conclusion not so much on account of the logical force of the premisses as because of our belief in the statement of the god.
But some arguments conduct us to the conclusion by way of discovery as well as of progression, like the following: ‟If sweat pours through the surface, there are insensible pores; but the first is true, therefore also the second;” for the pouring of the sweat makes discovery of the fact of the existence of pores, because of the prior assumption that moisture cannot pass through a solid body.
So, then, proof ought to be an argument which is deductive and true and has a non-evident conclusion which is discovered by the potency of the premisses; and because of this, proof is defined as ‟an argument which by means of agreed premisses discovers by way of deduction a non-evident inference.” It is in these terms, then, that they are in the habit of explaining the conception of proof.
That proof has no real existence may be inferred
from their own statements, by refuting each of the
assumptions implied in its conception.
But apart from this, the conclusive argument is non-apprehensible; for if it is judged by the coherence of the hypothetical premiss, and the coherence in that premiss is a matter of unsettled dispute and is probably non-apprehensible, as we suggested in our chapter (xi.) ‟On the Sign,” then the conclusive argument also will be non-apprehensible.
Now the Dialecticians
And it is a case of redundancy when we find a premiss that is superfluous for the logic of the argument, as for instance ‟If it is day, it is light; but in fact it is day and Dion also is walking; therefore it is light.” And it is due to the bad form in which it is propounded when the form of the argument is not conclusive; for whereas the really syllogistic arguments are, they say, such as these: ‟If it is day, it is light; but in fact it is day; therefore it is light;” and ‟If it is day, it is light; but it is not light; therefore it is not day,”—the inconclusive argument runs thus: ‟If it is day, it is light; but in fact it is light; therefore it is day.”
For since the major premiss announces that if its antecedent exists its consequent also exists, naturally when the antecedent is admitted the consequent also is inferred, and when the consequent is denied the antecedent also is denied; for if the antecedent had existed, the consequent also would have existed. But when the consequent is admitted, the antecedent is not necessarily admitted as well; for the major premiss did not promise that the antecedent should follow the consequent, but only the consequent the antecedent.
Hence, the argument which deduces the consequent
from the major premiss and the antecedent is
said to be syllogistic,
And the argument is faulty by deficiency, when it suffers from
the omission of some factor needed for the deducing
of the conclusion: thus, for instance, while we have,
as they think, a valid argument in ‟Wealth is either
good or bad or indifferent; but it is neither bad nor
indifferent; therefore it is good,”
If, then, I shall show that, according to them, it is
impossible to distinguish any difference between the
inconclusive and the conclusive arguments, I shall have
shown that the conclusive argument is non-apprehensible,
so that their endless disquisitions on ‟dialectic”
It was said that the argument which is inconclusive
owing to inconsistency is recognized by the want of
coherence which marks its premisses in their relation
both to each other and to the inference.
For he who declares that any particular argument is inconclusive through inconsistency will, if he is merely uttering a statement, find himself opposed by a statement which contradicts his own; while if he tries to prove it by argument, he will be told that this argument of his must itself be conclusive before he can prove that the premisses of the argument said to be inconsistent are devoid of consistency. But we shall not know whether it is probative, since we have no agreed test of the syllogism whereby to judge whether the conclusion follows the logical connexion formed by the premisses. And thus, also, we shall be unable to distinguish the argument that is faulty through inconsistency from those that are conclusive.
And we will make the same reply to the man who says that an argument is unsound owing to its being propounded in a faulty form; for he who maintains that a form is unsound will have no argument agreed to be conclusive whereby he will be able to draw the conclusion he states.
And hereby we have also
potentially refuted those who try to show that there
are arguments which are inconclusive through
deficiency. For if the complete and finished argument
is indistinguishable
Moreover, the argument that is said to be faulty
through redundancy is indistinguishable from those
that are probative. For, so far as concerns redundancy,
even the ‟non-demonstrable” arguments
Now there are, in their imaginings, many non-
demonstrable arguments, but the five which they
chiefly propound, and to which all the rest can, it
seems, be referred, are these. The first is that which
deduces the consequent from the major premiss
The third deduces from the negation of a coupled
premiss
These, then, are the much talked of non-demonstrable
arguments, but they all seem to me to be
inconclusive through redundancy. Thus for instance,
to begin with the first, either it is agreed, or else it
is non-evident, that in the major premiss ‟If it is
day, it is light,” the clause ‟it is light” follows from
its antecedent ‟it is day.” But if this is non-evident,
we shall not grant the major premiss as agreed;
if, however, it is pre-evident that if the clause ‟it is
day” be true, the clause ‟it is light” will necessarily
be true also, then, once we have asserted that ‟it is
day,” the statement ‟it is light” is also inferred, so
that an argument in the form ‟It is day, therefore
it is light” is sufficient,
And in the case of the second non-demonstrable argument we make a similar objection. For it is either possible or impossible for the antecedent to be true when the consequent is not true. But if this is possible, the major premiss will not be valid; while if it is impossible, at the moment of positing ‟Not the consequent” we posit also ‟Not the antecedent,” and the major premiss is redundant once again, the argument propounded being ‟It is not light, therefore it is not day.”
The same reasoning applies also to the third non- demonstrable argument. For either it is pre-evident that it is impossible for the clauses in the coupled premiss mutually to co-exist, or else it is non-evident. And if it is non-evident we shall not grant the negative of the coupled premiss; but if it is pre-evident, at the moment of positing the one clause the other is annulled, and the negative of the coupled premiss is redundant when we propound the argument in the form ‟It is day, therefore it is not night.”
And we deal in like manner with the fourth non- demonstrable argument and the fifth. For either it is pre-evident or it is non-evident that in the disjunctive premiss one clause is true, the other false, in complete contradiction, as the disjunctive proclaims. And if this is non-evident, we shall not grant the disjunctive; but if it is pre-evident, if one of its clauses be affirmed it is apparent that the other is not true, and if one is negated it is pre-evident that the other is true, so that it is sufficient to frame the argument thus—‟It is day, therefore it is not night,” or ‟It is not day, therefore it is night;” and the disjunctive premiss is redundant.
One may also make similar observations on the so-
called ‟categorical” syllogisms, which are chiefly
used by the Peripatetics.
So too in an argument such as this—‟Socrates is a man; every man is an animal; therefore Socrates is an animal,”—if it is not at once pre-evident that whatsoever is man is always also animal, the universal premiss is not agreed, and neither will we admit it in the process of deduction.
But if the fact that he is a man is logically followed by the fact that he is also an animal, and in consequence the premiss ‟Every man is an animal” is by agreement true, at the moment of stating that ‟Socrates is a man” we admit therewith that he is also an animal, so that an argument in the form ‟Socrates is a man, therefore Socrates is an animal” is sufficient, and the premiss ‟Every man is an animal” is redundant.
And (not to dwell on the
matter now) in the case of the other primary
Since, however, these arguments which the
Dialecticians
But if some persons disapprove of arguments being of
a ‟one-premiss form,” they deserve no more credence
than does Antipater
For these reasons, then, the argument named by
the Dialecticians ‟conclusive” is not judged acceptable.
But further, the ‟true”
And it is certainly not apparent;
for it would not need to be disclosed by means of the
premisses if it were perceptible of itself and no less
apparent than its premisses. But if it is non-evident,
then, since there is an unsettled dispute concerning
things non-evident, as we mentioned above,
But, to pass over these objections also, the
argument which deduces what is non-evident by means
of pre-evident premisses is indiscoverable. For if the
inference follows from the combination of its premisses,
and what follows and forms the consequent is relative
and relative to the antecedent, and relatives are
apprehended, as we have shown,
And for these reasons, neither is the inference revealed by
the premisses, as it is either non-evident and not
apprehended, or pre-evident and not in need of
anything to reveal it. So that if proof is defined
That proof is unreal, or even inconceivable, we shall
discover also from the following line of attack.
Now the general proof is unreal for the
following reasons. It either has or has not certain
premisses and a certain inference. And if it has them
not, it is not even proof; while if it has premisses and
an inference, then, since everything which proves or is
proved in this way belongs to the class of ‟particulars,”
For they will describe as proof either the system made up of
the premisses and the inference
Now the system composed of the premisses and the inference is not proof because, firstly, it contains a non-evident part—that is to say, the inference—and so will be non-evident, which is absurd; for if the proof is non-evident, instead of serving to prove other things it will itself be in need of something to prove it.
Moreover, since they assert that proof is a relative thing and relative to the inference, and relatives, as they themselves affirm, are conceived in relation to other things, the thing proved must be other than the proof ; if, then, the thing proved is the conclusion, the proof will not be conceived along with the conclusion. For the conclusion either contributes something to its own proof or does not do so; but if it contributes, it will serve to reveal itself, while if it does not contribute but is redundant it will not be even a part of the proof, since we shall declare the proof to be faulty by reason of redundance.
Nor yet will the system composed of the premisses by itself be proof; for who would maintain that a statement in the form ‟If it is day, it is light; but in fact it is day,” either is an argument or completely expresses a piece of reasoning? So then, neither does the system of the premisses alone constitute proof. Therefore the particular proof has no real existence either. But if neither the particular nor the general proof has real existence, and besides these one can conceive no other proof, then proof is without real existence.
And it is possible to show the unreality of proof from these further considerations. If proof exists, either as apparent it serves to reveal what is apparent, or as non-evident what is non-evident, or as non- evident what is apparent, or as apparent what is non-evident; but it cannot be conceived as serving to reveal any of these; therefore it is inconceivable.
For if it as apparent serves to reveal the apparent, the thing revealed will be at once both apparent and non-evident—apparent because it was assumed to be such, and non-evident because it needs a revealer and is not clearly perceived by us of itself. And if as non-evident it reveals the non-evident, it will itself need something to reveal it and will not serve to reveal other things, which is foreign to the conception of proof.
And for these reasons neither can there be a non-evident proof of the pre-evident; nor yet a pre-evident proof of the non-evident; for since they are relatives, and relatives are apprehended together, that which is said to be proved, being apprehended together with its pre-evident proof, will be pre-evident, so that the argument is reversed and the proof probative of the non-evident is not found to be pre-evident. If, therefore, proof is neither apparent of the apparent, nor non-evident of the non-evident, nor non-evident of the pre-evident, nor pre-evident of the non-evident, and besides these, as they say, there is no other alternative, then we must declare that proof is nothing.
Furthermore, there is this also to be said. Proof
is a matter of controversy; for some declare that it
does not even exist, as do those who assert that
nothing at all exists,
And besides, proof always contains a
dogma, and they are in dispute about every dogma,
so that there must necessarily be dispute about every
proof. For if (for the sake of argument) when the
proof for the existence of void is accepted the existence
of void is likewise accepted,
Since, then, proof is non-evident, owing to the controversy which exists concerning it (for things controverted, in so far as controverted, are non- evident), its existence is not self-evident but needs to be established for us by proof. The proof, then, by which proof is established will not be evident and agreed (for we are now inquiring whether proof in general exists), and being thus in dispute and non- evident it will need another proof, and this again a third, and so on ad infinitum. But it is impossible to prove an infinite series; therefore it is impossible to show that proof exists.
But neither can it be revealed by means of a sign.
For since it is a matter of inquiry whether sign
exists,
If, then, neither by proof nor by sign nor by criterion it is possible to
show that proof exists, and it is not evident of itself
either, as we have shown,
Thus much it will be enough to say by way of
outline and in criticism of proof. The Dogmatists,
however, maintaining the opposite view assert that
the arguments propounded against proof are either
probative or not probative; and if they are not
probative, they are incapable of showing that proof
does not exist; while if they are probative, they
themselves involve the reality of proof by self-
refutation.
Hence also they propound an argument
in this form:
Now to this we may reply, for instance, that, because we do not believe that any argument is probative, we do not assert either that the arguments against proof are absolutely probative but that they appear to us plausible; but those that are plausible are not necessarily probative. Yet if they actually are probative (which we do not positively affirm) they certainly are also true. And true arguments are those which deduce what is true by means of true premisses; wherefore their inference is true. Now the inference was this—‟therefore proof does not exist;” therefore the statement ‟proof does not exist” is true by reversing the argument.
And just as purgative medicines expel themselves together
with the substances already present in the body, so
these arguments are capable of cancelling themselves
along with the other arguments which are said to be
probative.
And as regards this argument—‟If proof exists, proof exists; if proof does not exist, proof exists; but it either exists or exists not; therefore it exists” —there are a number of ways by which it can be shown to be inconclusive, but for the moment the following method may suffice.
If the hypothetical premiss ‟If proof exists, proof exists” is valid, the contradictory of its consequent, namely ‟proof does not exist,” must conflict with ‟proof exists,” for this is the antecedent of the hypothetical premiss. But, according to them, it is impossible for a hypothetical premiss to be valid when composed of conflicting clauses. For the hypothetical premiss promises that when its antecedent is true its consequent is also true, whereas conflicting clauses contrariwise promise that if either one of them is true the other cannot possibly be true. If therefore the premiss ‟If proof exists, proof exists” is valid, the premiss ‟If proof exists not, proof exists” cannot be valid.
And again. conversely, if we grant by way of assumption that the premiss ‟If proof exists not, proof exists” is valid, then the clause ‟If proof exists” can co-exist with ‟proof exists not.” But if it can co-exist with it, it is not in conflict with it. Therefore, in the premiss ‟If proof exists, proof exists,” the contrary of its consequent is not in conflict with its antecedent, so that, conversely, this premiss will not be valid, as the former was posited, by agreement, as valid.
And as the clause ‟proof exists not” is not in conflict with ‟proof exists,” the disjunctive ‟Either proof exists or proof exists not” will not be valid; for the valid disjunctive promises that one of its clauses is valid, but the other or others false and contradictory. Or else, if the disjunctive be valid, the hypothetical premiss ‟If proof exists not, proof exists” is, in turn, found to be fallacious, as composed of conflicting clauses. So then the premisses in the foregoing argument are discordant and mutually destructive; wherefore the argument is not valid.
And further, they are unable even to show that anything follows
logically from the contradictories, since, as we have
argued,
But this discussion is, in fact, superfluous. For if, on the one hand, the arguments in defence of proof are (let it be granted) plausible, while, on the other hand, the criticisms directed against proof are also plausible, then we must necessarily suspend judgement concerning proof also, and declare that proof is ‟no more” existent than non-existent.
So then it is also superfluous, perhaps, to discuss
in detail the much vaunted ‟syllogisms,” since, for
one thing, they are included in the refutation of the
existence of ‟proof” (for it is plain that if this is
non-existent there is no place either for probative
argument), and for another, we have implicitly
contradicted them in our previous statements, when
in discussing redundancy
Yet perhaps it will not
be amiss to go further
Well then, the premiss ‟Every man is an animal”
is established by induction from the particular
instances; for from the fact that Socrates, who is a
man, is also an animal, and Plato likewise, and Dion
and each one of the particular instances,
So whenever they argue ‟Every man is an animal, and Socrates is a man, therefore Socrates is an animal,” proposing to deduce from the universal proposition ‟Every man is an animal” the particular proposition ‟Socrates therefore is an animal,” which in fact goes (as we have mentioned) to establish by way of induction the universal proposition, they fall into the error of circular reasoning, since they are establishing the universal proposition inductively by means of each of the particulars and deducing the particular proposition from the universal syllogistically.
So likewise in the case of such an argument as ‟Socrates is a man, but no man is four-footed, therefore Socrates is not four- footed,” by proposing to establish the premiss ‟No man is four-footed” by induction from the particular instances while wishing to deduce each several particular from the premiss ‟No man is four-footed,” they become involved in the perplexity of the circular fallacy.
And a similar criticism may be passed upon the rest of the ‟axiomatic” arguments, as they are called by the Peripatetics; and also upon arguments in the form ‟If it is day, it is light.” For the proposition ‟If it is day, it is light ” is capable, they say, of proving that ‟it is light,” and the clause ‟it is light” in conjunction with ‟it is day” serves to establish the proposition ‟If it is day, it is light.” For the hypothetical premiss stated above would not have been considered valid unless the constant co- existence of ‟it is light” with ‟it is day” had already been observed.
If, then, one has to apprehend beforehand that when there is day there certainly is light also, in order to construct the hypothetical premiss ‟If it is day, it is light,” while by means of this premiss we deduce that when it is day it is light, the co-existence of the being of day and of night being proved (so far as depends on the axiomatic argument before us) by the premiss ‟If it is day, it is light,” and that premiss in turn being established by the co-existence of the facts aforesaid, —in this case also the fallacy of circular reasoning overthrows the substance of the argument.
So likewise with an argument in the form ‟If it is day, it is light; but it is not light; therefore it is not day.” For from the fact that we do not observe day without light the hypothetical premiss ‟If it is day, it is light” might be considered to be valid; just as if, should day, let us suppose, at some time appear, without the appearance of light, the premiss would be said to be false; but, so far as concerns the axiomatic argument aforesaid, the non- existence of day when light is non-existent is proved by the premiss ‟If it is day, it is light,” so that each of these statements needs for its confirmation the secure grasp of the other in order thereby to become credible by means of circular reasoning.
Moreover, from the fact that some things are
unable to co-exist—take, for instance, if you like, day
and night—both the conjunctive
Whence we argue again that if for establishing the disjunctive proposition and the negative of the conjunctive we require to apprehend beforehand the fact that the judgements they contain are incapable of co-existence, while they believe that they are deducing this incapacity for co-existence by means of both the disjunctive and the negative conjunctive, we involve ourselves in circular reasoning, seeing that we are unable either to give credence to the aforesaid premisses without having apprehended the incapacity for co-existence of the judgements they contain, or to affirm positively that incapacity before concluding the syllogisms based on these premisses.
Consequently,as we possess no principle on which to ground belief
owing to the circular style of the argument, we shall
declare that, so far as depends on these statements,
neither the third nor the fourth nor the fifth of the
‟axiomatic” syllogisms
For the present, then, it will suffice to have said thus much concerning syllogisms.
It is also easy, I consider, to set aside the method of induction. For, when they propose to establish the universal from the particulars by means of induction, they will effect this by a review either of all or of some of the particular instances. But if they review some, the induction will be insecure, since some of the particulars omitted in the induction may contravene the universal; while if they are to review all, they will be toiling at the impossible, since the particulars are infinite and indefinite. Thus on both grounds, as I think, the consequence is that induction is invalidated.
Further, the Dogmatists take great pride in their systematic treatment of definitions, which they include in the logical division of their Philosophical System, as they call it. So come and let us now make a few observations on definitions.
Now while the Dogmatists hold that definitions have many uses, you will probably find that these fall under two main heads which, as they say, include all their necessary uses;
for, as they explain, definitions
are necessary in all cases either for apprehension
So then, without preliminary, if, on the one hand, the man who knows not the object of definition is unable to define the object unknown to him, while, on the other hand, the man who knows and proceeds to define has not apprehended the object from its definition but has put together his definition to fit the object already apprehended, then the definition is not necessary for the apprehension of objects. And since, if we propose to define absolutely all things, we shall define nothing, because of the regress ad infinitum; while if we allow that some things are apprehended even without definitions, we are declaring that definitions are not necessary for apprehension, seeing that we are able to apprehend all things apart from definitions in the same way as the undefined objects were apprehended,
—then we shall either define absolutely nothing or we shall declare that definitions are not necessary.
And for these reasons they are not necessary for instruction either, as we shall discover. For just as the man who first perceived the object perceived it apart from definition, so likewise the man who receives instruction about it can be instructed without definition.
Moreover, they judge the definitions by the objects defined and declare those definitions to be faulty which include any attributes not belonging either to all or to some of the objects defined. Hence, whenever one states that man is ‟a rational immortal animal” or ‟a rational mortal literary animal,” whereas no man is immortal, and some are not literary, such a definition they say is faulty.
And it may be also that the definitions do not admit of judgement owing to the infinity of the particulars by which they ought to be judged; and consequently they will not convey apprehension and instruction regarding the objects whereby they are judged, which evidently have been known beforehand, if at all, and apprehended beforehand.
And how could it be other than absurd to assert that definitions are of use for apprehension or instruction or elucidation of any kind, when they involve us in such a fog of uncertainty?
Thus, for instance, to take a ridiculous case, suppose that one wished to ask
someone whether he had met a man riding a horse and leading a
dog and put the question in this form—‟O rational mortal animal,
receptive of intelligence and science, have you met with an animal
capable of laughter, with broad nails and receptive of political
science,
So then we must declare that, so far as we may judge by this, the definition is useless,
whether it be described as ‟a statement which by a brief reminder
brings us to a conception of the objects which underlie
the terms,”—as is plain (is it not?) from what we
have said just a moment ago,—or as ‟a statement
declaratory of the essence,”
So what I have said about definitions is enough for the present.
Inasmuch as some of the Dogmatists
Now they at once assert that the sciences of natural
objects exist whereas those of conventional objects
have no existence, and that with reason. For science
claims to be a thing that is firm and invariable, but
the conventional objects are easily liable to change
and variation, because their character is altered by
the shifting of the conventions which depend upon
ourselves. Since, then, the significance of names is
based on convention and not on nature
Whole and part we shall discuss in what we call
our physical treatise,
Hence the division and the subtraction of the other parts is not made from the decad but from some other numbers, and these vary with each subtraction.
Probably then it is impracticable to divide the whole into what are called its parts. For, in fact, if the whole is divided into parts, the parts ought to be comprised in the whole before the act of division, but probably they are not so comprised. Thus for example—to base our argument once more on the decad—they say that nine is certainly a part of the decad, since it is divided into one plus nine. But so likewise is the number eight, since it is divided into eight plus two; and so also are the numbers seven, six, five, four, three, two and one.
If then all these numbers are included in the decad, and when added together with it make up fifty-five, then fifty-five is included in the number ten, which is absurd. Therefore neither are its so-called parts included in the decad nor can the decad be divided into them, as a whole into parts, since they are not even seen in it at all.
And the same objections will confront us in the case
of magnitudes
There still remains, then, the subject of genera and
species, which we shall discuss more at large elsewhere,
If the genera exist, either they are equal in number to
the species or else there is one genus common to all
the species which are said to belong to it. If, then,
the genera are equal in number to their species, there
will no longer be a common genus to be divided into
the species; while if it shall be said that the genus
exists as one in all its species, then each species partakes
of either the whole or a part of it.
Then, in the next place, all the species will be said to partake
either of the same part of their genus or of different
parts; but to partake of the same part is impossible
for the reasons stated above; while if they partake
of different parts, the species will be generically
dissimilar one to another (which they will not admit),
and each genus will be infinite because cut up into
infinite sections (not into the species only but also
into the particulars, since it is actually seen in these
along with its species; for Dion
If, then, each several species partakes neither of
the whole genus nor of a part of it, how can it be said
that the one genus exists in all its parts so as to be
actually divided into them? No one, probably, could
make such a statement unless by concocting some
imaginary entities,
Furthermore, there is this to be said.
But if the ‟something,” and the genus too, is absolutely none of them, the inquiry comes to an end. And if we should say that it is all of them, then, besides the impossibility of such a statement, each of the species and of the particulars wherein it exists will have to be all. For just as when the genus ‟animal” is, as they assert, ‟an animate sensitive substance,” each of its species is said to be substance and animate and sensitive, so likewise if the genus is both corporeal and incorporeal and false and true and black, it may be, and white and very small and very large, and all the rest, each of the species and of the particulars will be all these—which is contrary to observation. So this too is false.
But if the genus is some of them only, the genus of these will not be the genus of the rest; if, for instance, the genus ‟something” is corporeal it will not be that of the incorporeal, and if the genus ‟animal” is rational it will not be that of the irrational, so that there is neither an incorporeal ‟something” nor an irrational animal, and so likewise with all other cases; and this is absurd. Therefore the genus cannot be either of both this and that kind, or of this kind but not of that, or of neither this kind nor that; and if this be so, neither does the genus exist at all.
And if one should say that the genus is potentially
all things,
nor yet can it be some of them actually and some only potentially —corporeal, for instance, actually and incorporeal potentially. For it is potentially that which it is capable of really being actually, but that which is actually corporeal is incapable of becoming incorporeal in actuality, so that if, for example, the genus ‟something” is actually corporeal it is not potentially incorporeal, and vice versa. It is impossible, therefore, for the genus to be some things actually and some only potentially. But if it is absolutely nothing actually, it has no substantial existence. Hence the genus, which they say they divide into the species, is nothing.
And further, here is another point worthy of notice.
Just as, because Alexander and Paris
Similar arguments apply also to the ‟common properties.” For if vision is one and the same property in Dion and in Theon, then, suppose that Dion should perish and Theon survive and retain his sight, either they will assert that the vision of the perished Dion remains unperished, which is incredible, or they will declare that the same vision has both perished and not perished, which is absurd; therefore the vision of Theon is not identical with Dion’s but, if anything, the vision of each is peculiar to himself. And if breathing is an identical property in Dion and Theon, it is impossible that breathing should exist in Theon and not exist in Dion; but this is possible when the one has perished and the other survives; therefore it is not identical.
However, as regards this subject, this concise statement will be sufficient for the present.
It will not, perhaps, be amiss to give our attention
for a moment to the subject of Sophisms, seeing that
those who glorify Dialectic
It is false, for example,
in the case of the sophism ‟Nobody offers one a
predicate to drink; but ‟to drink absinth” is a
predicate; nobody therefore offers one absinth to
drink.” Or again, it may resemble the false, as in
this case—‟What neither was nor is possible is not
absurd;
Or again, it may be non-evident, as thus—‟It is not true both
that I have asked you a question first and that the
stars are not even in number; but I have asked you
a question first; therefore the stars are even.” Or
again, it may be otherwise unacceptable, like the
so-called solecistic
Moreover, they attempt also to set forth solutions of the sophisms, saying in the case of the first sophism that one thing is established by the premisses and another inferred in the conclusion. For it is established that a predicate is not drunk and that ‟to drink absinth” is a predicate, but not ‟absinth” by itself. Hence, whereas one ought to infer ‟Nobody therefore drinks the ‘to drink absinth,’” which is true, the inference drawn is ‟Nobody therefore drinks absinth,” which is false, as not deduced from the established premisses.
And as regards the second sophism, they explain that while it seems to
lead in a false direction, so that it makes the inattentive
hesitate in assenting to it, its conclusion is true,
namely ‟It is not therefore absurd that the doctor,
qua doctor, should murder.” For no judgement
is absurd,
And the method of leading up to the non-evident
And as to the last class—the solecistic arguments—some declare that they are introduced absurdly, contrary to linguistic usage.
Such are the statements made by some of the
Dialecticians concerning sophisms—though others
indeed make other statements; and what they say may
be able, perhaps, to tickle the ears of the casual hearer,
superfluous though it is and the result of vain labour
on their part. Probably this can be seen from what we have
said already;
And there are many other special objections bearing on the topic before us which we might mention, but now, for brevity’s sake, we mention only this one.
As regards all the sophisms which dialectic seems peculiarly able to expose, their exposure is useless; whereas in all cases where the exposure is useful, it is not the dialectician who will expose them but the experts in each particular art who grasp the connexion of the facts.
Thus, for instance, to mention one or two examples,
if a sophism such as this were propounded—‟In diseases,
at the stages of abatement, a varied diet and wine are
to be approved; but in every type of disease an abatement
inevitably occurs before the first third day;
but the doctor will expose the sophism, since he knows that the term ‟abatement” is used in two senses, of the general ‟abatement” in the disease and of the tendency to betterment after the crisis in the strained local conditions, and this improvement in the local strain generally occurs before the first third day, but it is not for this but for the general abatement in the disease that we recommend the varied diet. Consequently he will say that the premisses are discordant, since one kind of ‟abatement” is adopted in the first premiss, namely that of the general condition, and another—that of the local condition—in the second premiss.
Again, in the case of one who suffers from fever
due to aggravated ‟contraction” or obstruction, if
an argument is propounded in the form—‟Opposites
are cures of opposites;
but the doctor, since he knows what morbid states are fundamentally persistent and what are symptoms of such states, will declare that the argument does not apply to the symptoms (not to mention the fact that the result of the application of cold is to aggravate the feverish condition) but to the persistent morbid states, and that the constipation is persistent but requires an expansive method of treatment rather than contraction, whereas the resultant symptom of inflammation is not fundamentally persistent, nor (consequently) is the state of cold which seems to correspond thereto.
Thus, as regards sophisms the exposure of which is useful,
the dialectician will not have a word to say,
but he will propound for us arguments such as these
‟If a thing moves, it moves either in
the spot where it is or where it is not; but it moves
neither in the spot where it is (for it is at rest) nor
in that where it is not (for how could a thing be
active in a spot where it does not so much as exist?);
therefore nothing moves.”
‟Either the existent becomes or the non-existent; now the existent does
not become (for it exists); nor yet does the non-existent
(for the becoming is passive but the non-existent is not passive);
therefore nothing becomes.”
‟Snow is frozen water; but water is black; therefore
snow is black.”
And when he has made a collection of such trash
he draws his eyebrows together, and expounds
Dialectic and endeavours very solemnly to establish
for us by syllogistic proofs that a thing becomes, a
thing moves, snow is white, and we do not have
horns, although it is probably sufficient to confront
the trash with the plain fact in order to smash up
their positive affirmation by means of the equipollent
contradictory evidence derived from appearances.
Thus, in fact, a certain philosopher,
And we are told of an amusing retort
made by the physician Herophilus:
For
Starting even from the actual statements made by the dialecticians one might show concisely in this wise that their technical arguments about sophisms are superfluous. The dialecticians assert that they have resorted to the art of dialectic not simply for the sake of ascertaining what is deduced from what but chiefly for the sake of knowing how to discern the true and the false by means of probative arguments. Thus they declare that dialectic is ‟the science of what is true and false and neither.”
Since, then, they assert
that a true argument is one which draws a true
conclusion by means of true premisses,
The following considerations show this clearly: The false
conclusion in the argument either follows from the
combination formed by its premisses, or it does not
so follow. But if it does not so follow, neither will
the argument be logically sound; for an argument,
they say, is logically sound when its conclusion follows
from the combination formed by its premisses. If,
again, it does so follow, then—according to their own
technical treatises—the combination formed by its
premisses must necessarily be false; for they say that
the false follows from the false and nohow from the true.
And from what we have already said
If, then, when an argument is propounded with a false conclusion we know at once that the argument is neither true nor logically sound, because of its false conclusion, we shall not assent to it, even if we fail to see wherein the fallacy lies. For just as we refuse our assent to the truth of the tricks performed by jugglers and know that they are deluding us, even if we do not know how they do it, so likewise we refuse to believe arguments which, though seemingly plausible, are false, even when we do not know how they are fallacious.
Further, since the sophism leads, they say, not only to falsehood but also to other absurdities, we must discuss it more at large. The argument propounded leads us either to an inadmissible conclusion or to one of such a sort that we must needs admit it. In the latter case we shall assent to it without absurdity; but if it leads to what is inadmissible, it is not we that ought to yield hasty assent to the absurdity because of its plausibility, but it is they that ought to abstain from the argument which constrains them to assent to absurdities, if they really choose to seek truth, as they profess, rather than drivel like children.
Thus, suppose there were a road leading up to a chasm, we do not push ourselves into the chasm just because there is a road leading to it but we avoid the road because of the chasm; so, in the same way, if there should be an argument which leads us to a confessedly absurd conclusion, we shall not assent to the absurdity just because of the argument but avoid the argument because of the absurdity.
So whenever such an argument is propounded to us we shall suspend judgement regarding each premiss, and when finally the whole argument is propounded we shall draw what conclusions we approve.
And if the Dogmatists of the School of Chrysippus
declare that when the ‟Sorites”
And whereas we, by starting undogmatically from the observation of practical life, thus avoid these fallacious arguments, the Dogmatists will not be in a position to distinguish the Sophism from the argument which seems to be correctly propounded, seeing that they have to pronounce dogmatically that the form of the argument is, or is not, logically sound and also that the premisses are, or are not, true.
For we have shown above that they are neither able to apprehend the logically valid arguments nor yet capable of deciding that a thing is true, since—as we have shown from their own statements—they possess neither a Criterion nor a Demonstration that commands general agreement. Thus far, then, the technical treatment of Sophisms so much talked of amongst the Dialecticians is otiose.
And we say much the same regarding the distinguishing
of ambiguities. For if the Ambiguity is a
word or phrase having two or more meanings, and it
is by convention
—as, for example, in the case of the ambiguity ‟In periods of abatement one
should sanction a varied diet and wine.”
Thus it is the experience of what is useful in each affair that brings about the distinguishing of ambiguities.
All such ambiguities, however, as are not involved
in the practical experiences of life but in dogmatic
opinions, and are no doubt useless for a life void of
dogmatism,—concerning these the Dialectician, in
his own peculiar position,
This subject, however, we shall discuss later on;
Having said thus much concerning ambiguities we now conclude therewith our Second Book of Outlines.
Concerning the logical division of what is called ‟Philosophy”
Pursuing the same method of exposition in our
investigation of the Physical division of Philosophy,
we shall not refute each of their statements in order,
but we shall endeavour to overthrow those of a more
general character
Let us begin with their doctrine of Principles.
Since it is agreed by most that of Principles some are material and some efficient, we shall make our argument start with the efficient; for these, as they assert, are superior to the material.
Since, then, the majority have declared that God
is a most efficient Cause, let us begin by inquiring
about God,
When we conceive objects we ought to form
conceptions of their substances
Since, then, some of the Dogmatists assert that God is corporeal, others that
he is incorporeal, and some that he has human form,
others not, and some that he exists in space, others
not; and of those who assert that he is in space some
put him inside the world, others outside;
But, say they,
And apart from this, let them tell us what a ‟blessed” thing is—whether it is
that which energizes according to virtue and foreknows
what is subject to itself, or that which is void
of energy and neither performs any work itself nor
provides work for another.
Further, in order to form a conception of God one
must necessarily—so far as depends on the Dogmatists
—suspend judgement as to his existence or
non-existence. For the existence of God is not
pre-evident.
Now he that demonstrates the existence of God does so by
means of what is either pre-evident or non-evident.
Certainly not, then, by means of the pre-evident;
for if what demonstrates God’s existence were pre-evident,
then—since the thing proved is conceived
together with that which proves it, and therefore is
apprehended along with it as well, as we have
established
For if the non-evident fact which is capable of proving God’s existence, needing proof as it does, shall be said to be proved by means of a pre-evident fact, it will no longer be non-evident but pre-evident. Therefore the non-evident fact which proves his existence is not proved by what is pre-evident. Nor yet by what is non-evident; for he who asserts this will be driven into circular reasoning when we keep demanding proof every time for the non-evident fact which he produces as proof of the one last propounded. Consequently, the existence of God cannot be proved from any other fact.
But if God’s existence is neither automatically pre-evident nor proved from another fact, it will be inapprehensible.
There is this also to be said. He who affirms that God exists either declares that he has, or that he has not, forethought for the things in the universe, and in the former case that such forethought is for all things or for some things. But if he had forethought for all, there would have been nothing bad and no badness in the world; yet all things, they say, are full of badness; hence it shall not be said that God forethinks all things.
If, again, he forethinks some, why does he forethink these things and not those? For either he has both the will and the power to forethink all things, or else he has the will but not the power, or the power but not the will, or neither the will nor the power. But if he had had both the will and the power he would have had forethought for all things; but for the reasons stated above he does not forethink all; therefore he has not both the will and the power to forethink all. And if he has the will but not the power, he is less strong than the cause which renders him unable to forethink what he does not forethink:
but it is contrary to our notion of God that he should be weaker than anything. And if, again, he has the power but not the will to have forethought for all, he will be held to be malignant; while if he has neither the will nor the powers he is both malignant and weak —an impious thing to say about God. Therefore God has no forethought for the things in the universe.
But if he exercises no forethought for anything, and there exists no work nor product of his, no one will be able to name the source of the apprehension of God’s existence, inasmuch as he neither appears of himself nor is apprehended by means of any of his products. So for these reasons we cannot apprehend whether God exists.
And from this we further conclude that those who positively affirm God’s existence are probably compelled to be guilty of impiety; for if they say that he forethinks all things they will be declaring that God is the cause of what is evil, while if they say that he forethinks some things or nothing they will be forced to say that God is either malignant or weak, and obviously this is to use impious language.
To prevent the Dogmatists attempting also to
slander us,
For some affirm Cause
to be corporeal, others incorporeal.
The majority of them hold that of these Causes
some are immediate,
Some of them, however, have asserted further that
things present are causes of things future, being
‟antecedents;” as when intense exposure to the
sun causes fever. But this view is rejected by some,
on the ground that, since the Cause is relative to
something existent and to a real effect, it cannot
precede it as its cause.
As regards this controversy, our position is as follows:
That Cause exists is plausible; for how could
there come about increase, decrease, generation,
corruption, motion in general, each of the physical
and mental effects, the ordering of the whole universe,
and everything else, except by reason of some cause?
Moreover, if cause were non-existent everything would have been produced by everything and at random. Horses, for instance, might be born, perchance, of flies, and elephants of ants; and there would have been severe rains and snow in Egyptian Thebes, while the southern districts would have had no rain, unless there had been a cause which makes the southern parts stormy, the eastern dry.
Also, he who asserts that there is no Cause is refuted; for if he says that he makes this assertion absolutely and without any cause, he will not win credence; but if he says that he makes it owing to some cause, he is positing Cause while wishing to abolish it, since he offers us a cause to prove the non-existence of Cause.
For these reasons, then, the existence of Cause is plausible.
But that it is also plausible to say that nothing is the Cause of anything will be evident when we have set forth, to suit the occasion, a few of the many arguments which go to prove this case. Thus it is, for example, impossible to conceive the Cause before apprehending its effect as its effect; for we only recognize that it is causative of the effect when we apprehend the latter as an effect.
But we cannot either apprehend the effect of the Cause as its effect unless we apprehend the Cause of the effect as its Cause; for we think we know that it is its effect only when we have apprehended the Cause of it as its Cause.
If, then, in order to conceive the Cause, we must first know the effect, while in order to know the effect we must, as I said, have previous knowledge of the Cause, the fallacy of this circular mode of reasoning proves both to be inconceivable, the Cause being incapable of being conceived as Cause, and the effect as effect. For since each of them needs the evidence of the other, we shall not be able to say which conception is to have the precedence. Hence we shall be unable to declare that anything is the Cause of anything.
And even were one to grant that Cause can be
conceived, it might be held to be inapprehensible
because of the divergency of opinion. For he who
says that there is some Cause of something either
asserts that he makes this statement absolutely and
without basing it on any rational cause, or else he will
declare that he has arrived at his conviction owing
to certain causes.
Besides, since we are inquiring about the reality of Cause, it will certainly be necessary for him to produce a cause for the cause of the existence of Cause, and of that cause yet another, and so on ad infinitum. But it is impossible to produce causes infinite in number. It is impossible, therefore, to affirm positively that anything is Cause of anything.
Moreover, the Cause, when it produces the effect, either is and subsists already as causal or is non-causal. Certainly it is not non-causal; while if it is causal, it must first have subsisted and become causal, and thereafter produces the effect which is said to be brought about by it as already existing Cause. But since the Cause is relative and relative to the effect, it is clear that it cannot be prior in existence to the latter; therefore not even as being causal can the Cause bring about that whereof it is Cause.
And if it does not bring about anything either as being or as not being causal, then it does not bring anything about; and hence it will not be a Cause; for apart from its effecting something the Cause cannot be conceived as Cause.
Hence some people argue thus: The Cause must either subsist along with its effect or before it or must come into being after it. Now to say that the Cause is brought into existence after the appearance of its effect would seem ridiculous. But neither can it subsist before the effect; for it is said to be conceived in relation thereto, and they affirm that relatives,
in so far as they are relative, co-exist with each other and are conceived together. Nor, again, can it subsist along with its effect; for if it is productive of the effect, and what comes into existence must so come by the agency of what exists already, the Cause must have become causal first, and this done, then produces its effect. If, then, the Cause neither subsists before its effect, nor subsists along with it, nor does the effect precede the Cause, it would seem that it has no substantial existence at all.
And it is clear probably that by these arguments the conception of Cause is overthrown again. For if Cause as a relative notion cannot be conceived before its effect, and yet, if it is to be conceived as causative of its effect, it must be conceived before its effect, while it is impossible for anything to be conceived before that which the conception of it cannot precede,—then it is impossible for the Cause to be conceived.
From all this we conclude finally that—if the
arguments by which it was shown
So far, then, as concerns the efficient Principle this
account will suffice for the present. But we must also
give a brief account of what are called the Material
Principles.
the School of Empedocles as well as the Stoics, fire, air, water and
earth—for why should one even mention that
mysterious ‟indeterminate matter” which some of
them talk about,
Democritus and Epicurus, atoms; Anaxagoras of Clazomenae,
homoeomeries
Since, then, there exists amongst them as much divergence as this, and even more, regarding the Material Principles, we shall give assent either to all the positions stated, and all others as well, or to some of them. But to assent to all is not possible; for we certainly shall not be able to assent both to Asclepiades, who says that the elements can be broken up and possess qualities, and to Democritus, who asserts that they are indivisible and void of quality, and to Anaxagoras, who leaves every sensible quality attached to the homoeomeries.
Yet if we shall prefer any one standpoint, or view,
to the rest, we shall be preferring it either
absolutely and without proof or with proof.
If, then, in order to show the truth of the proof which prefers any one view, its criterion must be proved, and to prove the criterion in turn its proof must be pre-established, the argument is found to be the circular one which will not allow the reasoning to go forward, since the proof keeps always requiring a proved criterion, and the criterion an approved proof.
And should any one propose to approve the criterion by a criterion and to prove the proof by a proof, he will be driven to a regress ad infinitum. Accordingly, if we are unable to assent either to all the views held about the elements or to any one of them, it is proper to suspend judgement about them.
Now though it is, perhaps, possible to show by
these arguments alone the inapprehensibility of the
elements and of the Material Principles, yet in order
that we may be able to refute the Dogmatists in a
more comprehensive manner we shall dwell on this
topic at appropriate length. And since the opinions
about the elements are, as we have shown, numerous
and well-nigh infinite, we will excuse ourselves—
because of the character of our present treatise—
from discussing each opinion in detail, but will make
answer to them all implicitly. For since the elements,
whatever view one takes of them, must be finally
regarded either as corporeal or incorporeal,
Some say that Body is that which is capable of
being active or passive.
But some define Body as what has three dimensions
combined with resistance or solidity.
The answer, however, to these people is simple. For they will say either that Body is nothing more than these qualities, or that it is something else than the combination of the qualities already mentioned. Now apart from length and breadth and depth and solidity the Body would be nothing; but if these things are the Body, anyone who shall prove that they are unreal will likewise abolish the Body; for wholes are abolished along with the sum of their parts.
Now it is possible to disprove these dimensions in a
variety of ways; but for the present it will be enough
to say that if the Limits
If, then, one should affirm the existence of a surface or a line, then it will be affirmed that each of the afore-mentioned objects either can subsist of itself or is cognized solely in connexion with so-called Bodies. But to imagine either a line or a surface as existing of itself is doubtless silly. While if it should be said that each of these objects is cognized solely in connexion with the Bodies and has no independent existence, it will thereby be granted, in the first place, that the Bodies are not generated from them (for if so, I suppose, these objects ought to have had independent existence first, and then have combined to form the Bodies);
and further, they have no real existence even in the so-called Bodies.
This can be shown by several arguments, but for
the present it will suffice to mention the difficulties
which arise from
And if the surface touches the surface of the
juxtaposed Body with some of its parts, and with
other parts is united with the Body of which it is a
limit,
So likewise when two surfaces are, let us imagine, juxtaposed along the limits where they come to an end, by way of what is called their ‟length,” that is to say by way of their ‟lines,” then these lines, by means of which the surfaces are said to touch each other, will not be unified (else they would be fused together); yet if each of them touches the line which lies next to it breadth-wise with some of its parts and by others is united with the surface of which it is a limit, it will not be without breadth, and, consequently, it will not be a line. But if there exists in Body neither line nor surface, neither length nor breadth nor depth will exist in Body.
And should anyone assert that the Limits are bodies, he can be answered very shortly. For if length is a body, it must needs be divided into its three dimensions, and each of these, in turn, being a body will be divided into three other dimensions, which will be bodies, and these likewise into others, and so on ad infinitum, so that the Body comes to be of infinite size, being divided into an infinity of parts: this result is absurd, and therefore the dimensions aforesaid are not bodies. But if they are neither bodies nor lines nor surfaces, they will be held to have no existence.
Solidity
So these wholes, which are parts of other things, will not touch as wholes touching wholes, for the reasons aforesaid, nor yet through parts touching parts; for their parts, too, being wholes relatively to their own parts, will not be in contact either as wholes with wholes or as parts with parts. But if we apprehend the occurrence of touch neither by way of wholeness nor by way of parts, touch will be inapprehensible. And, consequently, solidity also; and, therefore, Body; for if this is nothing more than the three dimensions plus Solidity, and we have proved that each of these is inapprehensible, Body also will be inapprehensible.
Thus, then, if we are to judge by the conception
and about this problem there is this also to be said.
Of existing things some, they say, are sensible, others
intelligible, and the latter are apprehended by the
reason, the former by the senses, and the senses are
‟simply-passive,”
And if Body is said to be intelligible, there must certainly be pre-existent
in the nature of things some sensible object from
which to derive the notion of bodies, they being
intelligible. But nothing exists save Body and the
Incorporeal, and of these the Incorporeal is essentially
intelligible,
Accordingly we, by thus opposing the arguments against Body to the apparent existence of Body, infer suspension of judgement concerning Body.
The inapprehensibility of Body involves also that of the Incorporeal. For privations are conceived as privations of states or faculties, as, for example, blindness of sight, deafness of hearing, and similarly with the rest. Hence, in order to apprehend a privation, we must first have apprehended the state of which the privation is said to be a privation; for if one had no conception of sight one would not be able to assert that this man does not possess sight, which is the meaning of being blind.
If then Incorporeality is the privation of Body, and when states are not apprehended
it is impossible for the privations of them to
be apprehended, and it has been proved that Body
is inapprehensible, Incorporeality also will be
inapprehensible. Moreover, it is either sensible or
intelligible. And if it is sensible, it is inapprehensible
because of the variance amongst animals and men,
the senses and the circumstances, and owing to the
admixtures and all the other things we have previously
described in our exposition of the Ten Tropes.
Also, he who asserts that he apprehends the
Incorporeal will maintain that he apprehends it either
by sense or by means of reason. Certainly not by
sense, since it is supposed that the senses perceive
the sensibles by way of ‟impression” and ‟indentation,”
—take sight, for instance, whether it occur by
reason of the tension of a cone, or of the emissions and
immissions of images, or by effusions of rays or
colours;
But incorporeals are incapable of submitting to impression of this kind, so that they could not be apprehended by sense.
Nor yet by means of reason. For if the reason
is ‟verbally expressible”
How, then, is one to prove that this particular incorporeal (I mean reason) is previously apprehended? For if it is by means of another incorporeal, we shall ask for the proof of its apprehension also, and so on ad infinitum; whereas, if it is by means of a body, the apprehension of bodies is also in question; by what means, then, are we to prove that the body which is assumed in order to prove the apprehension of the incorporeal reason is itself apprehended? If by means of a body, we are plunged into infinite regress; while if we do so by means of an incorporeal, we are wrecked on circular reasoning. Reason, then, since it is incorporeal, remaining thus inapprehensible, no one will be able to say that by means of it the incorporeal is apprehended.
But if reason is a body, inasmuch as about bodies
also there is much controversy as to whether or not
they are apprehended, owing to what is called their
‟continual flux,”
And if they are neither objects of sense nor apprehended by means of reason, they will not be apprehended at all.
If, then, it is impossible to be positive either
about the existence of Body or about the
Incorporeals, we must also suspend judgement
concerning the Elements, and possibly about the things
which lie behind the Elements
But, to pass over these problems, how do they
explain the production of the compounds from the
primary elements,
They declare that mixed things are composed of
substance and qualities. If so, one must declare
either that their substances are blended
And if it should be said that the qualities are simply juxtaposed and the substances blended, even so the statement would be absurd; for we do not perceive the qualities in the mixtures as separate objects but as a single sense- impression produced by the mixed things. And anyone who should assert that the qualities are blended, but the substances not, would be asserting the impossible; for the reality of the qualities resides in the substances, so that it would be ridiculous to assert that the qualities by themselves, in separation from the substances, are somehow blended with one another, while the substances are left apart void of quality.
It only remains to say that both the qualities and
the substances of the mixed things permeate one
another
Yet if the hemlock is blended in with every particle of the water and is distributed as a whole over the whole volume of the water and through the mutual interpenetration of both their substances and their qualities, so that Mixture may in this way result; and if the things so distributed over each other in every particle occupy an equal space, so that they are equal to each other,— then the cup of hemlock will be equal to the ten cups of water, so that the blend must consist of twenty cups or of only two, according to the assumption now made as to the mode of Mixture. And if, again, a cup of water were poured into the twenty cups, then—according to the theory assumed—the quantity is bound to be forty cups or, again, only two, since it is admissible to conceive either the one cup as all the twenty over which it is distributed, or the twenty cups as the one with which they are equalized.
And by thus pouring in a cup at a time and pursuing the same argument it is possible to infer that the twenty cups seen in the blend must be twenty thousand and more, according to the theory of Mixture assumed, and at the same time only two—a conclusion which reaches the very height of incongruity. Wherefore this theory of Mixture also is absurd.
But if Mixture cannot come about by the mutual blending either of the substances alone or of the qualities alone or of both or of neither, and it is impossible to conceive any other ways than these, then the process of Mixture and of blending in general is inconceivable. Hence, if the so-called Elements are unable to form the compounds either by way of contact through juxtaposition or by mixture or blending, then, so far as this argument goes, the physical theory of the Dogmatists is inconceivable.
In addition to the foregoing we might have dwelt on the argument about the kinds of motion, since this also might be held to render the physical theory of the Dogmatists impossible. For the formation of the compounds must certainly be due to some motion both of the elements and of the efficient Principle. If, then, we shall show that no one kind of motion is generally agreed upon, it will be clear that, even if all the assumptions mentioned above be granted, the Dogmatists have elaborated their so-called ‟Physical Doctrine” in vain.
Now those who are reputed to have given the most
complete classification of Motion assert that six kinds
of it exist—local transition, physical change, increase,
decrease, becoming, perishing.
The main views held about motion are, I imagine,
three. It is assumed by ordinary people
We shall begin with those who affirm its real existence.
These base their view mainly on ‟evidence.”
So these men attempt in this way to put to shame those who hold the contrary opinion;
but those who deny the existence of motion allege such arguments as these: If a thing is moved, it is moved either by itself or by another thing. But if it is moved by another, it will be moved either causelessly or owing to some cause. Nothing, they assert, is moved causelessly; but if it is moved owing to some cause, the cause owing to which it moves will be what makes it move, and thus we are involved in an infinite regress, according to the criticism stated a little while ago.
Moreover, if the movent thing is active, and what is active is moved, that movent thing will need another movent thing, and the second a third, and so on ad infinitum, so that the motion comes to have no beginning; which is absurd. Therefore the thing that moves is not always moved by another. Nor yet by itself. Since every movent causes motion either by pushing forward or by drawing after or by pushing up or by thrusting down, what is self-movent must move itself in one of the aforesaid ways.
But if it moves itself propulsively, it will be behind itself; and if by pulling after, it will be in front of itself; and if by pushing up, it will be below itself; and if by thrusting down, it will be above itself. But it is impossible for anything to be above or before or beneath or behind its own self; therefore it is impossible for anything to be moved by itself. But if nothing is moved either by itself or by another, then nothing is moved at all.
And if anyone should seek refuge in the notions
of ‟impulse” and ‟purpose” we must remind him of
the controversy about ‟what is in our power,”
Further, there is this also to be said. If a thing
moves, it moves either in the place where it is or in
that where it is not. But it does not move in the
place where it is, for if it is in it, it remains in it;
nor yet does it move in the place where it is not;
for where a thing is not, there it can neither effect
nor suffer anything. Therefore nothing moves. This
argument is, in fact, that of Diodorus Cronos,
Some, then, assert that a thing can move in
the place where it is; at any rate the globes which
revolve round their axes move while remaining in the
same place.
And we shall take the same course in replying to those who declare that the moving thing occupies two places, that wherein it is and that whereto it shifts. For we shall ask them when the moving object shifts from the place wherein it is to the other place—whether while it is in the first place or while it is in the second. But when it is in the first place it does not pass over into the second, for it is still in the first; and when it is not in this, it is not passing from it.
And besides, the question is being begged; for where it is not, there it cannot be active.For surely no one will allow that any object to which he does not grant motion at all can shift to any place.
Some, however, make this statement: Place is
used in two senses, the broad sense, as for example
‟my house,” and the exact sense,
We should also propound the following argument.
Now that a thing can not move in orderly progression is plain on the face of it. For if bodies, and also the places and the times in which the bodies are said to move, are divided to infinity, motion will not occur, it being impossible to discover amongst the infinite any first thing wherefrom the object said to move will derive its initial movement.
And if the aforesaid objects are reducible to atomic parts, and each of the
moving things passes equally in an atomic period of
time with its own first atom into the first atomic point
of space, then all moving things are of equal velocity
—the speediest horse, for instance, and the tortoise;
Nor yet by way of immediate occupation of the divisible interval.
For if one ought, as they declare, to take the apparent as evidence for the non-apparent, since, in order to complete the distance of a stade a man must first complete the first portion of the stade, and secondly the second portion, and so on with the rest, so likewise everything that moves ought to move by way of orderly progression; for surely if we should assert that the moving thing passes all at once through all the portions of the place wherein it is said to move, it will be in all the portions thereof at once, and if one portion of the place through which it has its motion should be cold, another hot, or, mayhap, one black, another white, so as to be able also to colour things in contact,—then the moving thing will be at once hot and cold and black and white, which is absurd.
Next let them tell us how much space the
moving thing passes through all at once. For if they
shall assert that it is limitless, they will be granting
that a thing moves through the whole of the earth all
at once; while if they shirk this conclusion, let them
define for us the extent of the space. But, on the one
hand, the attempt to define precisely the space or
interval beyond which the thing moving all at once
will be unable to advance so much as a hair’s-breadth
is probably not merely presumptuous and rash or even
ridiculous, but plunges us again into the original
difficulty;
And if, on the other go hand, they shall assert that the moving thing moves
all at once through a space that is small but not
precisely determined, it will be open to us to adopt
the sorites argument
But if a thing moves neither thus instantaneously nor by way of gradual progression, it does not move at all.
These, and yet more than these, are the arguments used by those who reject transient motion. But we, being unable to refute either these arguments or the apparent facts on which the view of the reality of motion is based, suspend our judgement—in view of the contradiction between appearances and arguments—regarding the question as to the existence or non-existence of motion.
Employing the same reasoning we suspend judgement
also concerning both increase and decrease.
For the outward evidence
Just as if, for example, when there is a beam three cubits long a man should bring another of ten cubits and declare that the beam of three cubits had increased, he would be lying because the one is wholly different from the other; so too in the case of every object which is said to increase, as the former matter flows away and fresh matter enters in its place, if what is said to be added is added, one should not call such a condition increase but complete alteration.
The same argument applies also to decrease.
That subtraction
That subtraction takes place in none of these ways is plain from what follows: What is subtracted from anything ought, before its subtraction, to be included in that from which it is subtracted.
But the equal is not included in the equal—six, for instance, in six; for what includes must be greater than what is included, and that from which the subtraction is made than what is subtracted, in order that there may be some remainder after the subtraction; for it is this which is held to distinguish subtraction from complete removal. Nor is the greater included in the less—six, for instance, in five; for that is irrational.
And for this reason, neither is the less
included in the greater. For if five is included in six,
as less in greater, four will be included in five, three
in four, two in three, and one in two. Therefore six
will contain five, four, three, two, and one, which
when put together form the number fifteen, and
this we conclude is included in six, if it be granted
that the less is included in the greater. So likewise
in the fifteen which is included in the six there is
included the number thirty-five,
If, then, what is subtracted from a thing must be included in that from which it is to be subtracted, and neither equal is included in equal, nor greater in less, nor less in greater, then nothing is subtracted from anything.
Again, if anything is subtracted from anything, it is either a whole subtracted from a whole, or a part from a part, or a whole from a part, or a part from a whole.
But to say that a whole is subtracted
from either a whole or a part is plainly nonsense. It
remains, then, to say that a part is subtracted either
from a whole or from a part; which is absurd. Thus
for example—basing our argument on numbers for
the sake of clearness—let us take ten and suppose
that from it one is subtracted. This one, then, cannot
be subtracted either from the whole ten or from the
remaining part of the ten, as I shall show; therefore
it is not subtracted at all.
For if the one is subtracted from the whole ten, since the ten is neither something other than the ten ones nor one of the ones, but the aggregate of the ones, the one ought to be subtracted from each of the ones in order to be subtracted from the whole ten. Now from a one, above all, nothing can be subtracted; for the ones are indivisible, and on this account the one will not be subtracted from the ten in this way.
And even were we to grant that the
one is subtracted from each of the ones, the one will
contain ten parts, and as containing ten parts it will
beaten. And further, since ten other parts remain,
after the subtraction of the ten parts of the so-called
one, the ten will be twenty. But it is absurd to say
that the one is ten and the ten twenty, and to divide
what, according to them, is indivisible.
Neither is the one subtracted from the remaining nine; for that from which anything is subtracted does not remain entire, but the nine does remain entire after the subtraction of that one. Besides, since the nine is nothing more than the nine ones, if it should be said that the one is subtracted from the whole nine, the sum subtracted will be nine, or if from a part of it, then in case it be eight the same absurd results will follow, while if the subtraction is made from the last one, they will be affirming the divisibility of the one, which is absurd.
So then, neither from the nine is the one subtracted. But if it is neither subtracted from the whole ten nor from a part of it, no part can be subtracted from either a whole or a part. If, then, nothing is subtracted either as whole from whole or as part from whole, nor as whole from part or as part from part, then nothing is subtracted from anything.
Moreover, addition is regarded by them
Neither is it added to the compound of the four cups and the one cup; for how could anything be added to what does not yet exist? Besides, if the added cup is blended with the four cups and the one cup, six cups will be the measure resulting from the four cups and the one cup and the added cup.
And if the, cup is added to the four cups alone, since that which is extended over anything is equal to that over which it extends, the cup which extends over the measure of four cups will double the four cups so that the whole measure becomes eight cups—a result contrary to experience. If, then, what is said to be added is neither added to itself nor to what pre-exists nor to the compound of these, and besides these there are no other alternatives, then there is no addition of anything to anything.
Together with the existence of addition and subtraction
and local motion transposition also is
abolished,
So too with both whole and part.
Now it is apparent that the whole is nothing other than its parts; for certainly
when the parts are removed there is nothing left, so
as to enable us to account the whole as something else
besides its parts. But if the parts themselves form
the whole, the whole will be merely a name and an
empty title,
Nor yet parts. For if parts exist, either they are
parts of the whole, or of one another, or each one of
itself. But they are not parts of the whole, since it
is nothing else than its parts (and besides, the parts
will on this assumption be parts of themselves, since
each of the parts is said to be complementary to the
whole); nor yet of one another, since the part is said
to be included
Neither will each be a part of itself; for,
because of the inclusion, it will be both greater and
less than itself. If, then, the so-called parts are parts
neither of the whole nor of themselves nor of one
another, they are parts of nothing. But if they are
parts of nothing, parts have no existence; for co-
relatives are annulled together.
Let thus much be said, then, of a general character, by way of digression, seeing that once already we have dealt with the subject of whole and part.
Some, too, maintain that what is called ‟physical
change” is non-real, and the arguments they employ
are such as these:
If a thing changes, it changes through certain actions of a Cause
Therefore nothing changes at all. If a thing changes, either what is
changes or what is not.
Now in so far as it is not in being it does not change, for it is not even existent; while if it changes in so far as it is existent, it will be other than existent, which means that it will be non-existent. But it is absurd to say that the existent becomes non-existent; therefore the existent does not change either. And if neither the existent nor the non-existent changes, and besides these there is nothing else, it only remains to say that nothing changes.
Some also argue thus:
For the present time is probably also unreal,
Further, if change exists at all
Both becoming and perishing are included in the refutation of addition and subtraction and physical change; for apart from these nothing would become or perish. Thus, for instance, it is as a result of the perishing of the ten, as they say, that the nine becomes by the subtraction of one, and the ten from the perishing of the nine by the addition of one; and rust becomes from the perishing of bronze by means of change. Hence, if the aforesaid motions are abolished it is likely that becoming and perishing are also necessarily abolished.
Yet none the less some argue also as follows:
And if Socrates died, he died either when he lived or when he died. Now he did not die when he lived, since he would have been at once both alive and dead; nor yet when he died, since he would have been dead twice. Therefore Socrates did not die. And by applying this argument in turn to each of the things said to become or perish it is possible to abolish becoming and perishing.
Some also argue thus:
If, then, neither the non-existent becomes nor the existent, nothing becomes at all.
For the same reasons, neither does anything
perish.
for since it does not perish in so far as it is non-existent but in so far as it is existent, it will be other than the existent and therefore non-existent in so far as it is said to have perished, whereas in so far as it is said to perish while continuing in existence it will be existent. But it is absurd to say that the same thing is both existent and non-existent; therefore the existent does not perish while continuing in existence. And if the existent does not perish while continuing in existence but passes first into non-existence and then in this way perishes, it is no longer the existent that perishes but the non-existent; and this we have shown to be impossible. If, then, neither the existent perishes nor the non-existent, and besides these there is nothing else, nothing perishes at all.
This account of the motions
In like manner some have doubted about physical
rest,
What is said to be at rest is, in fact, held to be embraced
by the things which surround it, and what is embraced
is acted upon; but nothing acted upon exists, since
no causal activity exists, as we have shown;
Some, too, propound this argument: What is at rest is acted upon; but what is acted upon is in motion; therefore what is said to be at rest is in motion; but if it is in motion, it is not at rest.
And from this it is evident that neither does the incorporeal admit of being at rest. For if what is at rest is acted upon, and being acted upon is a property, if anything, of bodies and not of incorporeals, no incorporeal can either be acted upon or be at rest; therefore nothing is at rest.
So much for the subject of rest. And since no one of the things we have mentioned is conceived apart from space or time, we must pass on to consider these; for if one should prove these to be unreal, then, because of them, each of the others also will be unreal. Let us begin with space.
Space, or place, then, is used in two senses,
And of these, those who maintain its existence have recourse to the
evidence of experience.
and when, also, he hears the
ancients declaring that ‟Verily first of all came Chaos
into existence”
But those who deny space do not admit the existence
of the parts of space; for space, they say, is nothing
else than its parts, and he who tries to deduce the
existence of space from the assumption that its parts
exist is seeking to establish the matter in question by
means of itself. Equally silly is the language of those
who assert that a thing becomes or has become in
some place, when space in general is not admitted
Hesiod, too, is no competent judge of philosophical problems. And while thus rebutting the arguments that tend to establish the existence of space, they also demonstrate its unreality more elaborately by making use of what are held to be the most weighty views of the Dogmatists about space, namely those of the Stoics and Peripatetics, in the following fashion.
The Stoics declare that Void is that which is capable of being occupied by an existent but is not so occupied, or an interval empty of body, or an interval un- occupied by body; and that Place is an interval occupied by an existent and equated to that which occupies it (‟existent” being here the name they give to ‟body”); and that Room is an interval partly occupied by body and partly unoccupied—though some of them say that Room is the Place of the large body, so that the difference between Place and Room depends on size.
Their opponents then argue thus:
When the Stoics define Place as an ‟interval occupied
by body,” in what sense do they call it an ‟interval?”
Do they mean the length of the body or its width or
its depth only, or all three dimensions? For if they
mean one dimension, the place is not equated with
the object of which it is the place, and besides, that
which includes is part of what is included, which is
pure nonsense.
And if by ‟interval” is meant the
three dimensions, then, since in the so-called place
there subsists neither a void nor another body which
has dimensions, but only the body said to exist in
place, and it is composed of the dimensions (for it is
length and breadth and depth and solidity,
Therefore no dimension of a subsisting place exists. And, consequently, place is nothing.
This argument also is propounded.
If they belong to both, then, since the
Void has no reality apart from the dimensions, if the
dimensions of the Void subsist in the body and serve
to compose the body itself, the components of the
Void will also be components of the body—for about
the reality of solidity it is impossible to say anything
positive, as we have shown above.
Further, it is argued that when the body occupies
the Void and place comes about, the Void either
remains or withdraws or perishes. But if it remains,
the Plenum and the Void will be identical; and if it
withdraws by a movement of transition, or perishes
by change, the Void will be a body;
For these reasons also the Void is found to be unreal,
since it is impossible for it to be occupied by body and
to become place; for Void was defined
These arguments, and others besides, are directed against the views about place held by the Stoics.
The Peripatetics
Furthermore, if place is anything, it is either created or uncreate.Now it is not uncreate; for it is brought about, they say, by being moulded round the body within it. Nor yet is it created; for if it is created, it is either when the body is in place that the place, in which the body in place is already said to be, comes into existence, or when the body is not in it.
But it does not come into existence either when the body is in it (for the place of the body within it exists already), or when it is not in it, since, as they assert, the container is moulded round the contained and in this way place becomes, and nothing can be moulded round that which is not within it. But if place does not become either when the body is in place or when it is not therein, and no other alternatives are conceivable, then place is not created at all. And if it is neither created nor uncreate, it has no existence.
These objections may also be stated more generally.
It is possible to adduce many other arguments.
But in order to avoid prolonging our exposition, we
may conclude by saying that while the Sceptics are
put to confusion by the arguments, they are also put
to shame by the evidence
Our attitude is the same with respect to the inquiry
about time. For if we depend on appearances, time
seems to be something, but if we depend on the
arguments about it, it appears unreal. Some
Strato (or, as some say, Aristotle) as ‟the measure of motion and rest;”
Epicurus (according to Demetrius the Laconian
And, in point of substance, some have affirmed that it is corporeal
—for instance, Aenesidemus, arguing that it differs
in nothing from Being and the prime body,—others,
And besides, should it
be granted that the assertion of the corporeality
of time is false, and that of its incorporeality likewise
false, then, ipso facto, the unreality of time will
be granted; for it cannot be anything but one or
other of these. Nor yet can we apprehend which
theories are true, which false, owing to the equal
weight
Hence for these reasons we shall be unable to affirm anything positively about time.
Further, since time does not seem to subsist without motion or even rest, if motion is abolished, and likewise rest, time is abolished. None the less the following objections against time are made by some. If time exists, it is either limited or unlimited.
But if it is limited, it began at a certain time and will end
at a certain time. Consequently, there was once a
time when time was not (before it began), and there
will once be a time when time will not be (after it has
ended); which is absurd.
But if it is unlimited, since part of it is said to be
past, part present, and part future, the future and
past are either existent or non-existent. But if they
are non-existent, and there remains only the present,
which is momentary, time will be limited and the
original difficulties
Further, if time exists it is either divisible or indivisible. Now it is not indivisible; for it is divided, as they themselves declare, into present, past, and future. Yet it is not divisible either. For each divisible thing is measured by some part of itself, the measure coinciding with each part of the measured, as when we measure a cubit by a finger. But time cannot be measured by any part of itself. If, for instance, the present measures the past, it will coincide with the past and will therefore be past, and similarly it will be future in the case of the future. And if the future should measure the rest, it will be present and past, and so likewise the past will be future and present; which is nonsense. Neither, then, is time divisible. But if it is neither indivisible nor divisible, it does not exist.
Time, too, is said to be tripartite, partly past, partly
present, and partly future. Of these the past and
the future are non-existent; for if past and future
time exist now, each of them will be present. Neither
is the present existent; for if present time exists
it is either indivisible or divisible. Now it is not
indivisible; for what changes is said to change in
the present time, but nothing changes in indivisible
time
Neither is it divisible; for it could not be divided into a plurality of presents, since time present is said to change into time past imperceptibly owing to the rapid flux of the things in the Universe. Nor yet into past and future; for so it will be unreal, having one part of itself no longer existent and the other part not yet existent.
Hence, too, the present cannot be the end of the past and the beginning of the future, since then it will both be and not be existent; for it will exist as present, but will not exist because its parts are non-existent. Therefore it is not divisible either. But if the present is neither indivisible nor divisible, it does not exist. And when neither the present nor the past nor the future exists, time too is non-existent; for what is compounded of things unreal is unreal.
This argument, too, is alleged against time: If
time exists it is either generable and perishable or
ingenerable and imperishable.
For things generated must be generated from something existent, and things which
perish must perish into something existent, according
to the postulates of the Dogmatists themselves.
Further, since everything which becomes seems to
become in time, time, if it becomes, becomes in time.
Either, then, it becomes itself in itself or as one time
in another. But if it becomes in itself, it will be at
once both existent and non-existent. For since that
within which a thing becomes must exist before the
thing which becomes within it, the time which becomes
in itself does not yet exist in so far as it becomes,
but does already exist in so far as it becomes in itself.
Nor yet in another. For if the present becomes in the future, the present will be future, and if in the past, it will be past. And the same may be said of all the other times; so that one time does not become in another. But if time neither becomes in itself nor as one time in another it is not generable. And it has been shown that it is not ingenerable either. Being, then, neither generable nor ingenerable, it is wholly non-existent; for each existing thing is bound to be either generable or ingenerable.
Since time, it seems, is not found apart from
number, it will not be out of place to discuss number
briefly.
Thus, for example, the School of
Pythagoras declare that numbers are also elements
of the Universe. They assert, in fact, that phenomena
are constructed from something, and that the
elements must be simple; therefore the elements
are non-evident. But of things non-evident, some are
corporeal, like atoms and masses, others incorporeal,
like figures
Moreover, each of the incorporeals involves the perception of number, for
it is either one or two or more. Thus it is inferred
that the non-evident and incorporeal numbers which
are involved in all perception are the elements of
existing things. Yet not simply
For they say that it is from these
that the rest of the numbers are generated—those,
that is, which are involved in the perception of
numerables—and the Universe is arranged. For the
point presents the relation, or character, of the
Monad,
It is in this way that they image forth both the bodies and the whole
Universe, which also they declare to be arranged
according to harmonic ratios
These are the fictions they imagine; and they
also make out that number is something else apart
from numerables, arguing that if ‟animal” according
to its proper definition
But these things are absurd; therefore number is not the numerables, but it has a reality of its own apart from them whereby it is involved in the perception of the numerables and is an element.
So when they had thus concluded that number is not the numerables, there arose in consequence the difficulty about number. For it is argued that if number exists, number is either the actual numerables or something else apart from them; but number is neither the actual numerables, as the Pythagoreans have proved, nor something else apart from them, as we shall show; number, therefore, is nothing.
That number is nothing apart from the numerables
we shall demonstrate by basing our argument on the
Monad, for the sake of lucidity of exposition.
—just as, supposing there are a number of naked men, who possess only one garment amongst them, which one man had put on, all the rest will remain naked and without a garment. And if each thing partakes of a part of it, then, in the first place, the Monad will have a part. and parts, too, infinite in number into which it is divided; which is absurd. And further, just as the part of the Decad, such as the Dyad, is not a Decad, so neither will the part of the Monad be a Monad, and for this reason nothing will partake of the Monad. Hence the Monad whereof the particular objects are said to partake is not one.
But if the monads, by participation in which each
of the particular objects is called one, are equal
in number to the numerables to which the term
‟one” is applied, the monads partaken of will be
infinite in number. And these either partake of a
superior
Yet if these can be monads without participation, each of the sensibles also will be able to be one without participation in a monad, and so at once the monad said to be perceived as real in itself is overthrown. Whereas, if those monads are monads by participation, either they all partake of one monad, or each partakes of a monad of its own. And if all partake of one, each will be said to partake either of a part or of the whole, and the original difficulties will still remain;
but if each partakes of its own monad, we must posit a new monad for each of those monads, and others again for the former, and so on ad infinitum. If then, in order to apprehend that there are certain self-sub-sistent monads by participation in which each existing thing is one, it is necessary to apprehend an infinite infinity of intelligible monads, and to apprehend an infinite infinity of intelligible monads is a thing impossible, then it is impossible to show that there are certain intelligible monads and that each existing thing is one through becoming one by participation in its own monad.
It is absurd, therefore, to say that the monads are as numerous as the things which partake of them. But if the so-called self-subsistent monad is neither one nor as many as its participants, a self-subsistent monad does not exist at all. So likewise none of the other numbers will be self-subsistent; for one may apply to all the numbers the argument which has now been employed in the typical case of the monad. But if number is neither self-subsistent, as we have shown, nor consists in the actual numerables, as the Pythagoreans have demonstrated, and beyond these there is no other alternative, then we must declare that number does not exist.
In what way, too, is the Dyad said to be generated from the Monad by those who believe that number is something else apart from the numerables? For when we combine a monad with another monad either something external is added to the monads, or something is subtracted from them, or nothing is either added or subtracted. But if nothing is either added or subtracted, there will not be a Dyad. For neither did the monads, when existing apart from each other, contain the Dyad as involved in the perception of them, according to their own definition, nor has any addition now been made to them from without, just as, by hypothesis, nothing has been subtracted.
Hence the combination of the monad with the monad will not be a dyad, as no addition or subtraction from without takes place. But if subtraction does take place, not only will there not be a dyad but the monads will even be diminished. And if the dyad is added to them from without, so that a dyad may be generated from the monads, the things which appear to be two will be four; for there exists already a monad and a second monad, and when an outside dyad is added to these the result will be the number four.
And the same argument applies to all the other numbers which are said to be formed as a result of combination.
If, then, the numbers which are said to be compounded
from the superior
So then number does not subsist of itself. But if number neither is conceived as self-existent, nor subsists in the numerables, then, to judge from the subtleties introduced by the Dogmatists, number is nothing.
Let this, then, suffice as an account in outline of what is called the Physical section of philosophy.
There remains the Ethical division, which is supposed
to deal with the distinguishing of things
good,
The Stoics, then, assert that good is ‟utility or not
other than utility,” meaning by ‟utility” virtue and
right action, and by ‟not other than utility” the
good man and the friend. For ‟virtue,” as consisting
in a certain state of the ruling principle,
For utility is a part of the good man, being his ruling principle. But the wholes, they say, are not the same as the parts (for the man is not a hand), nor are they other than the parts (for without the parts they do not subsist). Wherefore they assert that the wholes are not other than the parts. Hence, since the good man stands in the relation of a whole to his ruling principle, which they have identified with utility, they declare that he is not other than utility.
Hence also they assert that good has three meanings.
In one of its meanings, good, they say, is that
by which utility may be gained, this being the most
principal good
But some define good as ‟what is to be chosen for its
own sake;”
These, or such as these, are their statements with reference to the notion of the Good.
But in describing as good what is useful or what is choiceworthy for its own sake or what is contributory to happiness, one is not exhibiting the essence of the good but stating one of its properties. And this is senseless. For the properties aforesaid belong either to the good only or to other things as well. But if they belong to other things as well, they are not, when thus extended, characteristic marks of the good; while if they belong only to the Good, it is not possible for us to derive from them a notion of the good.
For just as the man who has no notion of ‟horse” has no knowledge of what ‟neighing” is and cannot arrive thereby at a notion of ‟horse,” unless he should first meet with a neighing horse, so too one who is seeking the essence of the good, because he has no knowledge of the good, cannot perceive the attribute which is peculiar to it alone in order that he may be enabled thereby to gain a notion of the good itself. For he must first learn the nature of the good itself, and then pass on to apprehend that it is useful, and that it is choiceworthy for its own sake, and that it is productive of happiness.
But that the aforesaid attributes are
not sufficient to indicate the concept and the real
nature of the good is made plain by the practice of
the Dogmatists. All, probably, agree that the good is
useful and that it is choiceworthy (so that the good is
said to be, as it were, ‟the delightful”
Such, then, is the discord amongst those who are
reputed the most eminent of the Dogmatists regarding
the notion of the Good; and they have differed likewise
regarding Evil, some defining Evil as ‟damage
or not other than damage,”
The term ‟indifferent,” they say, is used in three senses—in one sense, of that which is an object of neither inclination nor disinclination, as for instance the fact that the stars or the hairs of the head are even in number; in another sense, of that which is an object of inclination or disinclination, but not towards this particular object any more than towards that, as in the case of two indistinguishable tetradrachms, when one has to choose one of them; for there arises an inclination to choose one of them, but not this one more than that one; and a third sense of the term ‟indifferent” is, they say, ‟that which contributes neither to happiness nor to unhappiness,” as health, or wealth; for what a man may use now well, now ill, that, they say, is indifferent, and they claim to discuss it specially in their Ethics.
But what view we ought to take regarding this conception is plain from what we have already said about things good and evil.
Thus, then, it is plain that they have not guided
us to a clear conception of the several things above-
mentioned; yet, in thus failing with regard to
matters that, perhaps, have no real existence, their
experience is by no means strange. For there
are some who argue on the following grounds
that nothing is by nature
Fire which heats by nature appears to all as heating, and snow which chills by nature appears to all as chilling, and all things which move by nature move equally all those who are, as they say, in a natural condition. But none of the so-called ‟goods,” as we shall show, moves all men as being good; therefore no natural good exists. And that none of the so-called goods moves all men alike is, they assert, an evident fact.
For, not to mention ordinary folk—of whom
some regard right bodily condition as good, others
chambering, others gluttony, others drunkenness,
others gambling, others greed, and others still worse
things,—some of the philosophers themselves (such as
the Peripatetics) say that there are three kinds of
goods;
The Stoics themselves, too,
assert that there is a trinity
If, then, things which move by nature move all
men alike, while we are not all moved alike by the
so-called goods, there is nothing good by nature. In
fact it is impossible to believe either all the views
now set forth, because of their conflicting character,
or any one of them. For he who asserts that one
must believe this view, but not that, becomes a party
to the controversy, since he has opposed to him the
arguments of those who take the rival view, and
therefore he himself, along with the rest, will need
an adjudicator instead of pronouncing judgement on
others. And as there does not exist any agreed
criterion or proof
Further, it is asserted by some that Good is either
the Choice
But neither is the good the choiceworthy. For this
is either external to us or in connexion with us. But
if it is external to us either it produces in us a soothing
motion and a welcome condition and a delightful
feeling, or it does not affect us at all. And if it is not
a delight to us it will not be good,
so that what is choiceworthy in itself cannot be external. Nor can it be personal to us. For it is said to belong either to the body alone or to the soul alone or to both. But if it belongs to the body alone, it will elude our perception; for our perceptions are said to be properties of the soul, and they assert that the body, viewed by itself, is irrational. And if it should be said to extend to the soul also, it would seem to be choiceworthy owing to its affecting the soul and to the agreeable feeling therein; for, according to them, what is judged to be choiceworthy is judged by the intellect and not by the irrational body.
There remains the alternative that the good is in
the soul only. But this, too, is impossible if we go by
the statements of the Dogmatists. For the soul is,
perhaps, actually non-existent;
But, to pass over these objections, in what manner does the good, according to them, come about in the soul? For certainly, if Epicurus makes the End consist in pleasure and asserts that the soul, like all else, is composed of atoms, it is impossible to explain how in a heap of atoms there can come about pleasure and assent or judgement that this object is choiceworthy and good, that object to be avoided and evil.
Again, the Stoics declare that goods of the soul
are certain arts, namely the virtues. And an art,
they say, is ‟a system composed of co-exercised
apprehensions,”
For it is perfect nonsense to say
that Plato’s imaginary construction of the soul—I
mean the mixture of the indivisible and the divisible
essence and of the nature of the Other and of the
Same,
But if the good is not choice itself, and what is choiceworthy in itself neither exists externally nor belongs to either body or soul—as I have argued, —then there does not exist at all any natural good.
For the foregoing reasons also there exists no natural evil. For things which seem to some to be evil are pursued as goods by others—for instance, incontinence, injustice, avarice, intemperance, and the like. Hence, if it is the nature of things naturally existent to move all men alike, whereas the things said to be evil do not move all alike, nothing is naturally evil.
Similarly there is nothing naturally indifferent,
because of the divergence of opinion about things
indifferent. The Stoics, for example, assert that of
the indifferents some are preferred, some rejected,
and others neither preferred nor rejected,
Some, however, maintain that none of the indifferents is by nature preferred or rejected; for, owing to the differences in the circumstances, each of the indifferents appears at one time preferred, at another rejected. For certainly, they argue, if the rich were being threatened with attack by a tyrant while the poor were being left in peace, everyone would prefer to be poor rather than rich, so that wealth would be a thing rejected.
Consequently,since of each of the so-called indifferents some say that it is good, others bad, whereas all alike would have counted it indifferent had it been naturally indifferent, there is nothing that is naturally indifferent.
So also, should anyone declare that courage is
naturally choiceworthy because lions seem to be
naturally bold and courageous, bulls too, it may be,
and some men and cocks, we reply that, as for that,
cowardice also is one of the things naturally choiceworthy,
since deer and hares and many other animals
are naturally impelled thereto. The majority of
men, too, show themselves to be cowardly; for it is
rare for a man to give himself up to death for the sake
of his country,
Hence, also, the Epicureans suppose themselves to have proved that pleasure is naturally choiceworthy; for the animals, they say, as soon as they are born, when still unperverted, seek after pleasure and avoid pains.
But to these we may reply that what is productive of evil cannot be naturally good; but pleasure is productive of evils; for to every pleasure there is linked a pain, and pain, according to them, is a natural evil. Thus, for example, the drunkard feels pleasure when filling himself with wine, and the glutton with food, and the lecher in immoderate sexual intercourse, yet these things are productive of both poverty and sickness, which, as they say, are painful and evil. Pleasure, therefore, is not a natural good.
Similarly, too, what is productive of good is not naturally evil, and pains bring about pleasures; it is, in fact, by toil that we acquire knowledge, and it is thus also that a man becomes possessed both of wealth and of his lady-love, and pains preserve health. Toil, then, is not naturally evil. Indeed if pleasure were naturally good, and toil bad, all men, as we said, would have been similarly disposed towards them, whereas we see many of the philosophers choosing toil and hardship and despising pleasure.
And so, too, those who assert that the virtuous life
is naturally good might be refuted by the fact that
some of the sages choose the life which includes
pleasure,
And perhaps it may not be amiss, in addition to what has been said, to dwell more in detail, though briefly, on the notions concerning things shameful and not shameful, unholy and not so, laws and customs, piety towards the gods, reverence for the departed, and the like. For thus we shall discover a great variety of belief concerning what ought or ought not to be done.
For example,
And what wonder, when both the adherents of the Cynic
philosophy and the followers of Zeno of Citium,
Cleanthes and Chrysippus, declare that this practice
is indifferent?
Moreover, prostitution is with us a shameful and disgraceful
thing, but with many of the Egyptians it is highly
esteemed; at least, they say that those women who
have the greatest number of lovers wear an ornamental
ankle-ring as a token of their proud position.
Moreover, with us tattooing is held to be shameful and degrading, but many of the Egyptians and Sarmatians tattoo their offspring.
Also, it is a shameful thing with us for men to wear earrings, but amongst some of the barbarians, like the Syrians, it is a token of nobility. And some, by way of marking their nobility still further, pierce the nostrils also of their children and suspend from them rings of silver or gold—a thing which nobody with us would do,
just as no man here would dress himself in a flowered
robe reaching to the feet, although this dress, which
with us is thought shameful, is held to be highly
respectable by the Persians. And when, at the Court
of Dionysius the tyrant of Sicily, a dress of this
description was offered to the philosophers Plato and
Aristippus,
but Aristippus accepted it, saying—
Thus, even in the case of these sages, while the one of
them deemed this practice shameful, the other did
not.
And with us it is sinful to marry one’s mother
or one’s own sister ; but the Persians, and especially
those of them who are reputed to practise wisdom—
namely, the Magi,—marry their mothers; and the
Egyptians
Moreover, Zeno of Citium says that it is not amiss for
a man to rub his mother’s private part with his own
private part, just as no one would say it was bad for
him to rub any other part of her body with his hand.
Chrysippus,
Masturbation, too, which we count loathsome, is not disapproved by Zeno; and we are informed that others, too, practise this evil as though it were a good thing.
Moreover, the eating of human flesh is sinful with
us, but indifferent amongst whole tribes of
barbarians.
And with most of us it is sinful to defile an altar of a god with human blood,
but the Laconians lash themselves fiercely over the
altar of Artemis Orthosia
Adulterers are, of course, punished by law with us, but amongst some
peoples
With us, also, the law enjoins that the fathers
should receive due care from their children; but the
Scythians cut their throats when they get to be
over sixty years old. And what wonder, seeing that
Cronos cut off his father’s genitals with a sickle, and
Zeus plunged Cronos down to Tartarus, and Athena
with the help of Hera and Poseidon attempted to
bind her father with fetters?
Moreover, Cronos decided to destroy his own children, and Solon gave the Athenians the law ‟concerning things immune,” by which he allowed each man to slay his own child; but with us the laws forbid the slaying of children. The Roman lawgivers also ordain that the children are subjects and slaves of their fathers, and that power over the children’s property belongs to the fathers and not the children, until the children have obtained their freedom like bought slaves; but this custom is rejected by others as being despotic.
It is the law, too, that homicides should be punished; but gladiators when they kill often receive actual commendation. Moreover, the laws prevent the striking of free men; yet when athletes strike free men, and often even kill them, they are deemed worthy of rewards and crowns.
With us, too, the law bids each man to
have one wife, but amongst the Thracians and
Gaetulians (a Libyan tribe)
Piracy, too, is with us illegal and criminal,
but with many of the barbarians it is not disapproved.
Indeed they say that the Cilicians used to regard it
as a noble pursuit, so that they held those who died
in the course of piracy to be worthy of honour. So
too Nestor—in the poet’s account
Yet, if piracy had been an improper thing, he would
not have welcomed them in this friendly way, because
of his suspicion that they might be people of that
kind.
Moreover, thieving is with us illegal and criminal; yet those who declare that Hermes is a most thievish god cause this practice to be accounted not criminal— for how could a god be bad? And some say that the Laconians also punished those who thieved, not because they had thieved, but because they had been found out.
Moreover, the coward and the man
who throws away his shield are in many places
punished by law; and this is why the Laconian
mother, when giving a shield to her son as he set
out for the war, said, ‟Either with this, my child, or
upon it.” Yet Archilochus,
And the Amazons
So it is that, in regard to justice and injustice and the excellence of manliness, there is a great variety of opinion.
Around all matters of religion and_ theology
also, there rages violent controversy.
Some, too, hold that he cares for human affairs, others
that he does not so care; for Epicurus declares that
‟what is blessed and incorruptible neither feels trouble
itself nor causes it to others.” Hence ordinary people
differ also, some saying that there is one god, others
that there are many gods and of various shapes;
in fact, they even come to share the notions of the
Egyptians
Hence, too, sacrificial usages, and the ritual of worship in general, exhibit great diversity. For things which are in some cults accounted holy are in others accounted unholy. But this would not have been so if the holy and the unholy existed by nature. Thus, for example, no one would sacrifice a pig to Sarapis, but they sacrifice it to Heracles and Asclepius. To sacrifice a sheep to Isis is forbidden, but it is offered up in honour of the so-called Mother of the gods and of other deities.
To Cronos
And I might add a host of similar instances, but I forbear since my aim is to be brief. Yet surely, if a sacrifice had been holy by nature or unholy, it would have been deemed so by all men alike.
Examples similar to these may also be found in the religious observances with regard to human diet.
For a Jew or an Egyptian priest
And no one would bring an onion
Yet, amongst others, these things
are indifferent. Eating dog’s flesh, too, is thought
by us to be sinful, but some of the Thracians are
reported to be dog-eaters. Possibly this practice was
customary also amongst the Greeks; and on this
account Diocles, too, starting from the practices of
the Asclepiadae,
Yet, if the rules of ritual and of unlawful foods had existed by nature, they would have been observed by all men alike.
A similar account may be given of reverence
towards the departed.
The fish-eating tribes of the Ethiopians cast them
into the lakes, there to be devoured by the fish; the
Hyrcanians
And some of the barbarians
Some, too, believe death itself to be dreadful and
horrible, others do not. Thus Euripides says:
And Epicurus declares:
And Heracleitus
These lines, too, spring from the same sentiment:
We know, too, the facts about Cleobis and Biton
which Herodotus
It is reported, also, that some of the
Thracians sit round the new-born babe and chant
dirges.
The same method of treatment may be applied also
to each of the other customs, which we have not now
described owing to the summary character of our
exposition. And even if, in regard to some of them,
we are unable to declare their discrepancy offhand,
we ought to observe that disagreement concerning
them may possibly exist amongst certain nations that
are unknown to us.
For just as, if we had been
ignorant, say, of the custom amongst the Egyptians
of marrying sisters,
Accordingly, the Sceptic, seeing so great a diversity
of usages, suspends judgement as to the natural
existence of anything good or bad or (in general) fit
or unfit to be done, therein abstaining from the rashness
of dogmatism;
for though, as a human being, he suffers emotion through his senses, yet because he does not also opine that what he suffers is evil by nature, the emotion he suffers is moderate. For the added opinion that a thing is of such a kind is worse than the actual suffering itself, just as sometimes the patients themselves bear a surgical operation, while the bystanders swoon away because of their opinion that it is a horrible experience.
But, in fact, he who assumes that there exists by nature something good or bad or, generally, fit or unfit to be done, is disquieted in various ways. For when he experiences what he regards as natural evils he deems himself to be pursued by Furies, and when he becomes possessed of what seems to him good things he falls into no ordinary state of disquiet both through arrogance and through fear of losing them, and through trying to guard against finding himself again amongst what he regards as natural evils;
for those who assert that goods
are incapable of being lost
For the present, then, this account of things good, evil, and indifferent is sufficient.
It is plain from what has been said above that there
can be no art of living.
Yet, even if they were
all to agree in assuming that the art of living is one
—such as, for example, the celebrated ‟prudence”
whereof the Stoics dream, and which seems to be
more convincing than all the rest,—even so equally
absurd results will follow. For since ‟prudence” is a
virtue, and the Sage alone was in possession of virtue,
the Stoics, not being sages,
And in general, since, according
to them, no art
Thus, for example, they declare that art is ‟a
composite of apprehensions,” and apprehension is ‟assent
to an apprehensive impression.”
And herein, too, the procedure of the Stoics,
in presenting the notion of the apprehensive impression,
is logically unsound; for in stating, on the one
hand, that an apprehensive impression is that which
is derived from a real object,
Another argument is this. Every art appears to be apprehended by means of its own special products, but there is no special product of the art of living; for anything you might mention as its product—such as honouring parents, paying back deposits, and all the rest—is found to be common to ordinary folk as well. Therefore no art of living exists. For we shall not ascertain (as some assert) from the apparent derivation of some speech or operation of the prudent man from a state of prudence that it is a product of prudence.
For the state of prudence itself is inapprehensible,
not being directly apparent either of itself or
from its products, these being common to ordinary folk
as well. And to say that we apprehend the possessor
of the art of living by the unvarying quality of his
actions
There remains the assertion that the art of living is apprehended by means of those effects which they describe in their books; and these being numerous and much alike, I will extract a few of them by way of examples. Thus, for instance, Zeno, the Master of their sect, in his treatises, amongst many other statements regarding the rearing of children, says this: ‟Have carnal knowledge no less and no more of a favourite than of a non-favourite child, nor of a female than of a male; favourite or non-favourite, males or females, no different conduct, but the same, befits and is befitting to all alike.”
And as concerns piety
towards parents, the same man states,
And he proceeds, in the same treatises, to introduce amongst us cannibalism,
And in his book On Duty he says expressly, regarding the burial of parents: ‟When our parents decease we should use the simplest forms of burial, as though the body—like the nails or teeth or hair—were nothing to us, and we need bestow no care or attention on a thing like it. Hence, also, men should make use of the flesh, when it is good, for food, just as also when one of their own parts, such as the foot, is cut off, it would be proper that it and the like parts should be so used; but when the flesh is not good, they should either bury it and leave it, or burn it up and let the ashes lie, or cast it far away and pay no more regard to it than to nails or hair.”
Of such a kind are most of the philosophers’
theories; but they would not dare to put them into
practice unless they lived under the laws of the
Cyclopes or Laestrygones.
Moreover, if the art of living comes into existence
in men, it so comes either by nature or through learning
and teaching. But if it is by nature, then the
art of living will arise in them either in so far as they
are men, or in so far as they are not men. Certainly
not in so far as they are not men; for it is not a fact
that they are not men. But if it is in so far as they
are men, then prudence
Neither, then, in so far as they are men will the art of
living belong to them. Therefore it does not accrue
by nature. And again, since they insist that art is
‟a system of co-exercised apprehensions,”
But neither is it acquired by teaching and learning. For in order that these should subsist, three things must first be agreed upon—the matter which is being taught, the teacher and the learner, and the method of learning. But none of these subsists; neither, then, does teaching.
Thus, for instance, the matter of instruction is
either true or false; if false it would not be taught;
for they assert that falsehood is non-existent, and of
non-existents there could be no teaching. Nor yet
if it were said to be true; for we have shown in our
chapter ‟On the Criterion”
And the matter taught is either apparent or non-evident. But if it is apparent, it will not require teaching; for things apparent appear to all alike. And if it is non-evident, then, since things non-evident are, as we have often shown, inapprehensible owing to the undecided controversy about them, it will be incapable of being taught; for how could anyone teach or learn what he does not apprehend? But if neither the apparent is taught nor the non-evident, nothing is taught.
Again, what is taught is either corporeal or incorporeal, and each of these being either apparent or non-evident is incapable of being taught, according to the argument we have just now stated. Nothing, therefore, is taught.
Further, either the existent is taught or the non-
existent. Now the non-existent is not taught; for
if the non-existent is taught the non-existent will be
true, since teaching is held to be of things true. And
if it is true, it will also subsist; for they declare that
‟a true thing is what subsists and is opposed to
something.”
Yet neither is the existent. For if the
existent is taught, it is taught either in so far as it is
existent or in so far as it is something else. But if it
is to be taught in so far as it is existent, it will be one
of the existing things, and therefore a thing incapable
of being taught; for teaching ought to proceed
from certain acknowledged facts which require no
teaching.
Nor, in fact, in so far as it is something else. For the existent has not anything else which is non-existent attached to it, so that if the existent in so far as it is existent is not taught, neither will it be taught in so far as it is something else; for whatsoever thing is attached to it is existent. And further, whether the existent thing which, they will say, is taught be apparent or non-evident, as it is subject to the absurdities we have stated, it will be incapable of being taught. But if neither the existent nor the non-existent is taught, there is nothing that is taught.
Now with the refutation of this is involved that of
both the teacher and the learner; though they are
just as much open to doubt on their own account.
For either the expert artist teaches the expert, or
the non-expert the non-expert, or the non-expert the
expert, or the expert the non-expert. Now the expert
does not teach the expert; for neither of them, qua
expert, needs teaching. Nor does the non-expert
teach the non-expert, any more than the blind can
lead the blind.
The only thing left is to say
that the expert teaches the non-expert; and this,
too, is a thing impossible. For it is declared to be
wholly impossible that an expert artist should exist,
since neither do we see anyone existing spontaneously
and from birth as an expert, nor does anyone turn
into an expert from being a non-expert. For either
one lesson and one apprehension can make an expert
of the non-expert or they cannot do so at all.
But if one apprehension makes the non-expert an
expert, it will be open to us to declare, firstly, that
art is not a system of apprehensions;
For in the case of individual men we could not point to one who, being still a non-expert, will become an expert by acquiring one additional principle; for no one, to be sure, has such a command of the numeration of the principles of each art as to be able to say, by numbering off the known principles, how many are still needed to make up the full number of the principles of the art. So then the learning of one principle does not make the non-expert an expert.
But if this is true, seeing that no one acquires all the principles of the arts at once, but each .one singly, if at all—this point also being granted by way of assumption—the man who is said to acquire the principles of the art one by one will not be termed an expert; for we recall the conclusion that the learning of one principle cannot make an expert of the non- expert. No one, then, becomes an expert from being a non-expert. Hence, on these grounds too, the expert artist appears to be non-existent. And therefore the teacher also.
Neither can the so-called learner, if he is non-
expert, learn and apprehend the principles of the art
wherein he is non-expert. For just as the man who
is blind from birth, in so far as he is blind, will not
acquire perception of colours, nor, similarly, he who
is deaf from birth, of sound,
But if neither the expert teaches the expert, nor the non-expert the non- expert, nor the non-expert the expert, nor the expert the non-expert, and these are all the alternatives possible, then neither the teacher exists nor the taught.
And if neither the learner nor the teacher exists, the method of teaching also is abolished.
And it is no less disputed on the following grounds. The method
of teaching comes to exist either by ocular evidence
or by speech;
Now teaching does not come by ocular evidence, since ocular evidence consists in things exhibited. But what is exhibited is apparent to all; and the apparent, qua apparent, is perceptible by all; and what is perceptible by all in common is incapable of being taught; therefore nothing is capable of being taught by ocular evidence.
Nor, in fact, is anything taught by speech. For
speech either signifies something or signifies nothing.
But if it signifies nothing, neither will it be capable
of teaching anything. And if it signifies something,
it does so either by nature or by convention.
But it is not significant by nature
And if it is significant by convention, evidently those who have grasped beforehand the objects to which the several words are assigned will perceive those objects, not through being taught by the words things of which they were ignorant, but by recollecting and recovering things which they knew; whereas those who require to learn what they do not know, and who are ignorant of the objects to which the words are assigned, will have no perception of anything.
Consequently, the method of learning also will be
incapable of subsisting. For, in fact, the teacher
ought to impart to the learner an apprehension of
the principles of the art he is teaching, so that the
latter by apprehending them as a system may thus
become an expert artist. But, as we have shown
above,
Such, then, are the objections put forward regarding
learning and teaching in general. And the same
difficulties may also be alleged in the case of the
so-called art of living. Thus, for instance, we have
shown above
Probably it is superfluous even to refer to the other cases; but if the prudent
man teaches prudence to the imprudent, and prudence is
‟knowledge
But, according to them, imprudence is certainly not capable of perceiving these things, since, if it were, the imprudent man will be prudent. Therefore, according to the definition of prudence, the imprudent man does not grasp what is said or done by the prudent. And, as he fails to grasp, he will not be taught by him, especially since, as we have said above, he cannot be taught either by ocular evidence or by means of speech. But, in fine, if the so-called art of living is not imparted to anyone either by means of learning and teaching or by nature, then the art of living, so harped on by the philosophers, is indiscoverable.
Yet even were one to grant, as an act of bounty, that this visionary art of living is imparted to someone, it will show itself to be hurtful to its possessors, and a cause of perturbation, rather than beneficial.
Thus, for instance—to take a few arguments out of many by way of example—the art of living might be thought to benefit the wise man by furnishing him with temperance
He, then, who is termed by them a temperate sage is called temperate either in
virtue of his never feeling the impulse towards good
or repulsion from evil,
But in respect of his freedom from bad resolutions he will not be self-controlled; for he will not control what he does not possess. And just as one would not call a eunuch temperate in sex- indulgence, or a man with a poor stomach temperate in respect of the pleasures of the table (for they feel no attraction at all towards such things, so that they might rise superior to the attraction through temperance), —in the same way we ought not to term the sage temperate, because he possesses no natural feeling over which he may exercise control.
And if they shall claim that he is temperate in virtue
of his forming bad resolutions but overcoming them
by reason, then, firstly, they will be admitting that
prudence was of no benefit to him just when he was
in a state of perturbation and needed assistance, and,
secondly, he is found to be even more unfortunate
than those they term bad.
though he is perturbed if he is feeling an impulse, yet ceases from his perturbation if he gains his desires.
So, then, the sage does not become temperate in
virtue of his prudence; or if he does become so, he
is of all men the most miserable, so that the art of
living has brought him no benefit but the uttermost
perturbation. And we have shown above
We must, then, declare that, if there is no agreement as to the existence of things good and bad and indifferent, and the art of living is possibly non- existent, or—if its existence is provisionally admitted —brings no benefit to its possessors but, on the contrary, causes them extreme perturbations, then the Dogmatists would seem to be vainly puffed up in respect of the so-called Ethical division of what they term ‟philosophy.”
Having now treated of the subject of Ethics also at sufficient length for an account in outline, we conclude at this point our third book, and with it the complete treatise on ‟Pyrrhonean Outlines,” adding only this final section:
The Sceptic, being a lover of his kind, desires to
cure by speech, as best he can, the self-conceit
and rashness
and employs those which are weighty and capable by their stringency of disposing of the Dogmatists' ailment, self-conceit, in cases where the mischief is due to a severe attack of rashness, while he employs the milder arguments in the case of those whose ailment of conceit is superficial and easy to cure, and whom it is possible to restore to health by milder methods of persuasion. Hence the adherent of Sceptic principles does not scruple to propound at one time arguments that are weighty in their persuasiveness, and at another time such as appear less impressive,—and he does so on purpose, as the latter are frequently sufficient to enable him to effect his object.