I AMBLI CHUS'

LIFE OF PYTHAGORAS,
OR
PYTHAGORIC LIFE.
Inner Traditions International, Ltd.
Park Street
Rochester, Vermont 05767
First U.S. edition 1986
Copyright 0 1986 by Inner Traditions International, Ltd.
Reprinted from the edition of 18 18
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by
any information storage and retrieval system, without per-
mission in writing from the publisher. Inquiries should be
addressed to Inner -1raditions International, Ltd.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING IN
PUBLICATION DATA
Iamblichus, ca. 250-ca. 330.
Iamblichus' Life of Pythagoras, or, Pythagoric life.
Reprint. Originally published: London: J.M. Watkins,
1818.
1. Pythagoras. 2. Philosophers-Greece-Biography.
3. Ethics, Ancient. 4. Philosophy, Ancient. 5. Pythagoras
and Pythagorean school. I. 'Taylor, Thomas, 1758-1835. 11.
Title. 111. Title: Life of Pythagoras. IV. Title: Pythagoric
life.
B243.126 1986 182'. 12 [B] 86-20153
ISBN 0-9828 1- 152-8 (pbk.)
Printed and bound in the United States of America
I AMBLI CHUS '
LIFE OF PYTHAGORAS,
PYTHAGORIC LIFE.
ACCOMPANIED BY
FRAGMENTS OF THE ETHICAL WRITINGS
OF CERTAIN PYTHAGOREANS I N THE DORIC DI ALECT;
AND A
COLLECTION OF PYTHAGORIC SENTENCES
FROM STOBl EUS A N D OTHERS,
WHICH ARE OMITTED BY GALE I N HIS
OPUSCULA MYTHOLOGICA,
AND HAVE NOT BEEN NOTICED BY ANY EDITOR.
TRANSLATED FROM T H E GREEK.
BY THOMAS TAYLOR.
Approach ye genuine philosophic few,
The Pythagoric Life belongs to you :
But far, far off ye vulgar herd profane ;
For Wisdom's voice is heard by you in vain :
And you, Mind's lowest link, and darksome end,
Good Rulers, Customs, Laws, alone can mend.
Inner Traditions International, Ltd.
Park Street
Rochester, Vermont 05767
First U.S. edition 1986
Copyright 0 1986 by Inner Traditions International, Ltd.
Reprinted from the edition of 18 18
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by
any information storage and retrieval system, without per-
mission in writing from the publisher. Inquiries should be
addressed to Inner -1raditions International, Ltd.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING IN
PUBLICATION DATA
Iamblichus, ca. 250-ca. 330.
Iamblichus' Life of Pythagoras, or, Pythagoric life.
Reprint. Originally published: London: J.M. Watkins,
1818.
1. Pythagoras. 2. Philosophers-Greece-Biography.
3. Ethics, Ancient. 4. Philosophy, Ancient. 5. Pythagoras
and Pythagorean school. I. 'Taylor, Thomas, 1758-1835. 11.
Title. 111. Title: Life of Pythagoras. IV. Title: Pythagoric
life.
B243.126 1986 182'. 12 [B] 86-20153
ISBN 0-9828 1- 152-8 (pbk.)
Printed and bound in the United States of America
INTRODUCTION.
WHEN it is considered that Pythagoras was the father
of philosophy, authentic memoirs of his life cannot fail
t o be uncommonly interesting t o every lover of wisdom,
and particularly i o those w6o reverdnce the doctrines
of Plato, the most genuine and the best of all his
disciples. And that the following memoirs of Pytha-
goras by Iamblichus are authentic; is acknowledged by
all the critics, as they are for the most part obviously
derived from sources of very high a&iquity; and
where the sources are unknown, there is every reason
t o believe, from the great worth and respectability of
the biographer, that the information is perfectly accu-
rate and true.
Of the biographer, indeed, Iamblichus, it is well
known t o everv tvro in Platonism that he was dignified
d d
by all the Platonists that succeeded him with the epithet
of divine ; and after the encomium passed on him by
the acute Emperor Julian, "that he was osterios indeed
P i n time, but not i n genius, to Plato," a1 further praise
of him would be as unnecessary, as the defamation of
him by certain modern critics is contemptible and idle.
For these homonculi looking solely t o his deficiency in
point of style, and not t o the magnitude of his intellect,
perceive only his little blemishes, but have not even a
glimpse of his surpassing excellence. They minutely
1 Oi8a piv o h ~ a i I I Xdr wva rhv piyav, at pcrcf r owdv &Spa
70's ~ Y O L C piv, 06 6 CCTjv +6uf', K Q ~ ~ ~ Z C U T ~ ~ V , TAV XaAKdia Cpqpt
T ~ V 'Ia@XtXov, K. A. Julian. Orat. IV.
Thus too the celebrated Bullialdus, in his Notes on Theo of Smyrna,
speaks of Iamblichus as a man of a most acute genius.
notice the motes that are scattered in the sunbeams
of his genius, but they feel not its invigorating warmth,
they see not its dazzling radiance.
Of this very extraordinary man there is a life extant
by Eunapius, the substance of which I have given in my
History of the Restoration of the Platonic Theology,
and t o which I refer the English reader. At present
I shall only select from that work the following biogra-
phical articulars respecting our Iamblichus: He was
descen J'ed of a family equally illustrious, fortunate, and
rich. His country was Chalcis, a city of Syria, which
was called Coele. He associated with Anatolius who
was the second t o Porphyry, but he far excelled him in
his attainments, and ascended t o the very summit of
philosophy. But after he had been for some time
connected with Anatolius, and most probably found
him insufficient t o satisfv the vast desires of his soul,
he applied himself t o pdrphyry, t o whom (says ~ u n a -
pius) he was in nothing inferior, except in the structure
and power of composition. For his writings were not
so elegant and graceful as those of Porphyry: they were
neither agreeable, nor perspicuous; nor free from im-
purity of diction. And though they were not entirely
involved in obscurity, and perfectly faulty; yet as
Plato formerly said of Xenocrates, he did not sacrifice
t o the Mercurial Graces. Hence he is far from detain-
ing the reader with delight, who merely regards his
diction: but will rather avert and dull his attention.
and frustrate his expectation. However, though thd
surface of his conceptions is not covered with the flowers
of elocution, yet the depth of them is admirable, and his
genius is truly sublime. And admitting his style to
abound in general with those defects, which have been
noticed by the critics, yet it appears t o me that the
decision of the anonymous Greek writer respecting his
Answer t o the Epistle of Porphyry,' is more or less
1 There is a Greek and Latin edition of this admirable work by Gale,
under the title of Iamblichus De Mysteriis.
vii
applicable t o all his other works. For he says, "that
his diction in that Answer is concise and definite, and
that his conceptions are full of efficacy, are elegant,
and divine."
Iamblichus shared in an eminent degree the favor
of divinity, on account of his cultivatjbn of justice;
and obtained a numerous multitude of associates and
disciples, who came from all parts of the world, for the
purpose of participating the streams of wisdom, which
so vlentifullv flowed from the sacred fountain of his
woiderful kind. Among these was Sopater the
Syrian,a who was most .sEilful both in speaking and
writing; Eustathius the Cappadocian; and of the
Greeks, Theodorus and Euphrasius. All these were
excellent for their virtues aAd attainments, as well as
many other of his disciples, who were not much inferior
t o the former in eloqu;nce; so that it seems wonderful
how Iamblichus could attend t o all of them, with such
gentleness of manners and benignity of disposition as
he continually displayed.
a .
He performed some few particulars relative t o the
veneration of divinity by himself, without his associates
. .
and disciples; but was inseparable from his familiars
in most of his operations. He imitated in his diet the
frugal simplicity of the most ancient times; and during
his repast, exhilarated those who were present by his
behaGour; and filled them as with necta; by the skeet-
ness of his discourse.
A celebrated philosopher named Alypius, who was
deeply skilled in dialectic, was contemporary with
Iamblichus, but was of such a diminutive stature, that
he eahibit=d the appearance of a pigmy. ~owevcr,
his great abilities amply compensated for this trifling
' A m u d 7 h 7qs XGcos U O ~ ~ ~ T ~ K O V , ~ a l d ~ o p ~ m c u d v , mat' 70'
Z WOL ~ V ?rpaylrarru&, aal yh+vpdv, aal b e o w, K. A. See the
Testimonies prefixed by Gale to his edition of the above-mentioned
work.
This Sopater succeeded Plotinus in his philosophical school.
defect. For his body might be said t o be consumed
into soul; just as the great Plato says, that divine
bodies. unlike those that are mortal. are situated in
souls. ' Thus also it might be asserted of Alypius, that
he had migrated into soul, and that he was contained
and governed by a nature superior t o man. This Aly-
~ i u s had manv followers. but his mode of hil lo so-
;hizing was cokfined t o conference and disputa-
tion, without committing any of his dogmas t o writing.
Hence his disciples gladly applied themselves t o Iam-
blichus, desirous t o draw abundantlv from the exube-
rant streams of his inexhaustible ki nd. The fame
therefore of each continually increasing, they once
accidentally met like two refulgent stars, and were
surrounded by so great a crowd of auditors, that it
resembled some mighty musaeum. While Iamblichus
on this occasion waited rather t o be interrogated, than
t o propose a question himself, Alypius, conGary t o the
expect at ion of every one, relinquishing philosophical
discussions, and seeing himself surrounded with a
theatre of men, turned t o Iamblichus, and said t o him:
"Tell me, 0 philosopher, is either the rich man unjust,
or the heir of the unjust man? For in this case there
is no medium." But Iamblichus hating the acuteness
of the question, replied: "0 most wonderful of all
men, this manner of considering, whether some one
excels in externals, is foreign from our method of
philosophizing; since we inqGre .whether a man abounds
in the virtue which it is proper for him t o possess, and
which is adapted t o a phfiosopher." Afterhe had said
this he depa;ted, and a't the s k e , time all the surround-
ina multitude was immediately dispersed. But Iam-
blrchus, when he was alone, admirLd the acuteness of
the question, and often privately resorted t o Alypius,
whom he very much applauded for his acumen and
sagacity; so that after his decease, he wrote his life.
T ~ S &hi us was an Alexandrian b i birth, and died in
his own country, worn out with age: and after him
Iamblichus,l leaving behind him many roots and
fountains i f philosc@hy; which through the cultiva-
tion of succeeding Platonists, produced a fair variety
of vigorous branches, and copious streams.
F& an account of the th;ological writings of Iam-
blichus, I refer the reader t o "my above-Ymentioned
History of the Restoration of the Platonic Theology;
-. -
and for accurate critical information concerning all his
works, to the Bibliotheca Graeca of Fabricius.
Of the following work, the life of Pythagoras, i t is
necessary t o observe that the original has been trans-
mitted ;o us in a verv imperfect Gate. vartlv from the
numerous verbal eriors i f the text, '{artl; from the
want of connexion in the things that &e narrated, and
partly from many particulars being related in different
places, in the very same words; so that the conjecture
of Kuster, one of the German editors of this work, is
highly pobable, that i t had not received the last hand
of Iamblichus, but that others formed this treatise from
the confused materials which they found among his
Manuscripts, after his death. Notwithstanding all its
defects, however, it is, as I have before observed, a most
interesting work; and the benefits are inestimable,
which the dissemination of i t is calculated t o ~r oduce.
And as two of the most celebrated critics adong the
Germans, Kuster and Kiessling, have given two Glen-
did editions of this work, i t is evident they must have
been - . deeply impressed with a conviction of its value
and importance.
As t h the Pythagoric Ethical Fragments, all eulogy
of them is superfluous, when it is considered that,
independently 'of theirs being written by very earl;
Pythagoreans, they were some of the sources from
which Aristotle himself derived his consummate know-
The exact time of Iamblichus' death is unknown. I t is however
certain that it was during the reign of Constantine ; and according to
the accurate Fabricius, prior to the year of Christ 333. Vid. Biblioth.
Grzec. Tom. IV. p. 283.
ledge of morality, as will be at once evident by com-
paring his Nicomachean Ethics with these fragments.
- Wifh respect t o the collection of Pythagoric Sentences
in this volcme, it is almost needless i o obierve that they
are incomparably excellent; and it is deeply to be
regretted ;hat the Greek o;iRinal of the ~eZences of
~ &t u s being lost, the fraidulent Latin version of
them by the Presbyter Ruffinus alone remains. I call
it a fraudulent version, because Ruffinus, wishing to
persuade the reader tha-t these Sentences were wrgten
by a bishop of the name of Sixtus, has in many places
perverted and contaminated the meaning of the
original. I n the selection, however, which I have
made from these Sentences, I have endeavoured, and
I trust not in vain, to give ;he genuine sense of ~i xt us ,
unmingled with the barbarous and polluted interpola-
tions of Ruffinus. If the English reader has my trans-
lation of the Sentences of Demophilus, and Mr.
BRIDGMAN'S translation of the Golden Sentences of
Democrates, and the Similitudes of Demophi l ~s, ~ he
will then be possessed of all the Pythagoric Sentences
that are extant, those alone of Sextus excepted, which
I have not translated, in conse uence of the very im-
pure and spurious state, in whi& they at present exist.
I deem it also requisite t o observe, that the Pytha-
goric life which is here delineated, is a specimen of the
greatest perfection in virtue and wisdom, which can
be obtained by man in the present state. Hence, it
exhibits piety unadulterated with folly, moral virtue
uncontaminated with vice, science unmingled with
sophistry, dignity of mind and manners unaccompanied
1 This Sextus is probably the same that Seneca so greatly extols,
and from whom he derives many of those admirable sentences with
which his works abound. Vid. Seneca: Epistolas, 59, 64, 98, et lib.
2 de Ir$ c. 36, et lib. 3. c. 36.
All these were published in one vol. 12mo. by Mr. BRIDCMAN,
under the title of Translations from the Greek, in the year 1804, and
well deserve to be perused by the liberal reader.
with pride, a sublime magnificence in theory, without
any degradation in practice, and a vigor of intellect,
which elevates its possessor t o the vision of divinity,
and thus deifies while it exalts.
The original of the engraving of the head of Iam-
blichus facing the title-page, is t o be found at the end
of a little volume consisting. of Latin translations of
Iamblichus De Mysteriis, ~kcl l us On the First Alcib-
iades of Plato, &c. &c. &c. 18mo. Genev. 1607.
This engravini was added because it appeared t o Ae
to be probable that the original was copied from an
ancient gem. And as it-is not impossible that it was,
, if i t is not genuine, it is a t least ornamental.
PUBLISHER' S NOTE.
For a representation of a fine bust of Pythagoras in
the Vatican, see Tom. 6, p1. 26, Statue del Museo Pio
Clemen tino.
CONTENTS.
T H E LI FE,
CHAP. I.
SINCE it is usual with al l men of sound understandings,
to call on divinity, when entering on any phi lo sop^^
discussion, it is certainly much more ap ropriate to do
K this in the consideration of that philosop y which iustlv
a A . '
receives its denomination from ;he divine ~ ~ t h Go r a i .
For as i t derives its origin from the Gods, it cannot be
avvrehended without their inspiring aid. To which
;may also add, that the beauiy anVd magnitude of i t
so surpasses human power, that it Ts impossible
t o survey it by a sudden view; but then alone can any
one gradually collect some portion of this philosophy,
when, the Gods being his leaders, he quietly approaches
t o it. On all these accounts, therefore, having invoked
the Gods as our leaders, and-converting bothuourselves
and our discussion to them, we shall acquiesce in what-
ever they may command us to do. We shall not, how-
ever, make any apology for this sect having been
neglected for a long time, nor for its being concealed
by foreign disciplines, and certain arcane symbols, nor
for having been obscured by false and spurious writings,
nor for many other such-like difficulties by which it
has been impeded. For the will of the ~ 6 d s is suffi-
cient for us, in conjunction with which it is possible
to sustain things still more arduous than these. But
after the Gods, we shall unite ourselves as to a leader,
t o the prince and father of this divine philosophy; of
whose origin and country we must rise a little higher
in our investigation.
CHAP. 11.
IT is said, therefore, that Ancaus who dwelt in
Samos in ~khal l eni a, &as begot by Jupiter, whether
he derived the fame of such an honorable descent
through virtue, or through a certain greatness of soul.
He surpassed, however, the rest of the Cephallenians
in wisdom and renown. This Ancaeus, therefore, was
ordered by the Pythian oracle to form a colony from
Arcadia and Thessaly; and that besides this, taking
with him some of the inhabitants of Athens, Epidaurus,
and Chalcis, and placing himself a t their head, he should
render an island habitable, which from the virtue of
the soil and land should be called Melamphyllos;
and that he should call the city Samos, on account of
Same in Cephallenia. The oracle, therefore, which
was given to him, was as follows: "I order you,
Anczus, t o colonise the marine island Samos instead
of Same, and t o call it Phyllas." But that a colony
was collected from these places, is not only indicated
by the honors and sacrifices of the Gods, transferred
into those regions together with the inhabitants, but
also by the kindred families that dwell there, and the
associations of the Samians with each other.
It is said, therefore, that Mnesarchus and Pythais,
who were the parents of Pythagoras, descended from
the family and alliance of this Anczus, who founded
the colony. I n consequence, however, bf this nobility
of birth being celebrated by the citizens, a certain
Samian poet says, that Pythagoras was the son of
Apollo. For thus he sings,
Pythaiq fairest of the Samian tribe,
Bore from th' embraces of the God of day
Renown'd Pythagoras, the friend of Jove.
1 i.e. Having black leaves.
It is worth while, however, to relate how this report
became so prevalent. The Pythian oracle then had
predicted td this Mnesarchus (who came t o Delphi for
the purposes of merchandize, with his wife not yet
A A
apparently pregnant, and who inquired of the God
concerning the event of his voyage t o Syria) that his
voyage would be lucrative and most conformable to
' -.
his wishes, but that his wife was now pregnant, and
would bring forth a son surpassing in beauty and
wisdom all that ever lived, and who would be of the
greatest advantage to the human race in every thing
pertaining t o the life of man. But, when Mnesarchus
considered with himself, that the God, without being
interrogated concerninp his son. had informed him b;
orarle, that he w a d p~ssLss an illustrious pri-
rogative, - and a gift t rul i divine, he immediGely
named his wife Pythais, from her son and the Delphic
prophet, instead -of parthenis, which was her foimer
a~~el l at i on; and he called the infant, who was soon
aKer born it Sidon in Phcenicia, pythagoras; signify-
ing by this appellation, that such an offspring was
~redi ct ed to him by the Pvthian ApoUo. For we must
;lot regard the ass&tions kf ~pi mekdes, Eudoxus, and
~enoGat es, who suspect th& Apollo- at that time.
becoming connected ki t h parthehis, and causing her
t o be pregnant from not being so, had in conseq;ence
of this predicted concerning Pythagoras, by the Delphic
prophet: for this is by no means to be admitted.'
l i.e. I t must not be admitted, that Apollo was actually connected
with Pythais ; for this would be absurd in the extreme ; but the
assertion of Epimenides, Eudoxus, and Xenocrates must be considered
as one of those mythological narrations in which heroes are said to
have Gods for their fathers, or Goddesses for their mothers, and the
true meaning of it is as follows : According to the ancient theology,
between those perpetual attendants of a divine nature called cssmtial
heroes, who are impassive and pure, and the bulk of human souls who
descend to earth with passivity and impurity, it is necessary there
should be an order of human souls who descend with impassivity
and purity. For as there is no vacuum either in incorporeal or
Indeed, no one can doubt that the soul of Pythagoras
was sent to mankind from the empire of Apollo, either
being an attendant on the God, or co-arranged with
him in some other more familiar way: for this may
be inferred both from his birth, and the all-various
wisdom of his soul. And thus much concerning the
nativity of Pythagoras.
But after his father Mnesarchus had returned from
Syria to Samos, with great wealth, which he had
collected from a prosperous navigation, he built a
temple to Apollo, with the inscription of Pythius;
and took care to have his son nourished with various
and the best disciplines, a t one time by Creophilus,
corporeal natures, i t is necessary that the last link of a superior order,
should coalesce with the summit of one proximately inferior. These
souls were called by the ancients, terrestrial heroes, on account of their
high degree of proximity and alliance to such as are essentially heroes.
Hercules, Theseus, Pythagoras, Plato, &c. were souls of this kind, who
descended into mortality both to benefit other souls, and in com-
pliance with that necessity by which all natures inferior to the perpetual
attendants of the Gods are a t times obliged to descend.
But as, according to the arcana of ancient theology, every God
beginning from on high produces his proper series as far as to the last
of things, and this series comprehends many essences different from
each other, such as Daemoniacal, Heroical, Nymphical, and the like ;
the lowest powers of these orders, have a great communion and physical
sympathy with the human race, and contribute to the perfection of
all their natural operations, and particularly to their procreations.
" Hence " (says Proclus in MSS. Schol. in Crat.) " i t often appears,
that herots are generated from the mixture of these powers with man-
kind ; for those that possess a certain prerogative above human nature,
are properly denominated heroer." He adds : " Not only a dzmon-
iacal genus of this kind sympathizes physically with men, but other
kinds sympathize with other natures, as Nymphs with trees, others
with fountains, and others with stags or serpents."
Olympiodorus, in his life of Plato, observes of that philosopher,
That an Apolloniacal spectre is said to have had connexion with
Perictione his mother, and that appearing in the night to his father
Aristo, i t commanded him not to sleep with Perictione during the time
of her pregnancy ; which mandate Aristo obeyed." The l i e account
of the divine origin of Plato, is also given by Apuleius, Plutarch, and
Hesychius.
another by Pherecydes the Syrian, and at another
almost all those who presided over sacred concerns,
whom he earnestly recommended Pythagoras, that
might be as much as possible sufficiently instructed
divine concerns. He, however, was educated in
such a manner, as to be fortunately the most beautiful
and godlike of all those that have been celebrated in
the annals of history. On the death of his father,
likewise, though he was still but a youth, his aspect
was most venerable, and his habits most temperate,
so that he was even reverenced and honored by ilderly
men: and converted the attention of all who saw and
heard him speak, on himself, and appeared t o be an
admirable person t o every one who beheld him. Hence
it was reasonably assertgd by many, that he was the
son of a God. But he being corroborated by renown
of this kind, by the education which he had received
from his infancy, and by his natural deiform appearance,
in a still greater degree evinced that he deserved his
present prerogatives. He was also adorned by piety
and disciplines, by a mode of living transcendently
good, by firmness of soul, and by a body in due sub-
iection t o the mandates of reason. I n all his words
and actions, he discovered an inimitable quiet and
serenity, not being subdued a t any time by anger, or
laughter, or emulation, or contention, or any other
perturbation or precipitation of conduct; but he dwelt
a t Samos like some beneficent dzmon. Hence, while
he was yet a youth, his great renown having reached
Thales at Miletus, and Bias a t Priene, men illustrious
for their wisdom, it also extended to the neighbouring
cities. To all which we may add, that the youth was
every where celebrated as the bng-haired Samian, and
was reverenced by the multitude as one under the
influence of diviie inspiration. But after he had
attained the eighteenthA year of his age, about the
period when the tyranny of Policrates first made its
appearance, foreseeing that under such a government
he might receive some impediment in his studies, which
engrossed the whole of his attention, he departed
privately by night with one Hermodamas (whose sur-
name was Creophilus, and who was the grandson of
him who had formerly been the host, friend, and
preceptor in all things of Homer the poet,) t o Phere-
cydes, t o Anaximander the natural philosopher, and to
Thales a t Miletus. He likewise alternately associated
with each of these philosophers, in such a manner, that
they all loved him, admired his natural endowments, and
made him a partaker of their doctrines. Indeed, gfter
Thales had gladly admitted him to his intimate con-
fidence, he admired the great difference between him
and other young men, whom Pythagoras left far
behind in every accomplishment. And besides this,
Thales increased the reputation Pythagoras had already
acquired, by communicating t o him such disciplines
as he was able to impart: and, apologizing for his old
age, and the imbecility of his body, he exhorted him
to sail into Egypt, and associate with the Memphian
and Diospolitan priests. For he confessed that his
own reputation for wisdom, was derived from the
instructions of these priests: - but that he was neither
naturally. nor bv exeicise. endued with those excellent
' .'
prerogatives, which were so visibly displayed in the
person of Pythagoras. Thales, therefore, gladly an-
nounced to him, from all these circumstances, that he
would become the wisest and most divine of- all men,
if he associated with these Egyptian priests.
CHAP. 111.
PYTHACORAS, therefore, having been benefited by
Thales in other respects, and especially having learned
from him t o be sparing of his time; for the sake of this
1 i.e. The priests of Jupiter.
he entirely abstained from wine and animal food, and
still prior t o these from voracity, and confined himself
to such nutriment as was slender and easy of digestion.
I n consequence of this, his sleep was short, his soul
vigilant and pure, and his body confirmed in a state
of perfect and invariable health. I n possession of such
advantages, therefore, he sailed to Sidon, being per-
suaded that this was his natural country, and also
properly conceiving that he might easily pass from
thence into Egypt. Here he conversed with the
~ r o ~ h e t s who were the descendants of Mochus the
A A
physiologist, and with others, and also with the ~ h m -
nician hierophants. He was likewise initiated in all
the mysteries of Byblus and Tyre, and in the sacred
o~erations which are ~erformed in manv Darts of Svria:
n'ot engaging in a tGng of this kind 'fGr the saie o i
- - -
superstition, as some one may be led to suppose, but
much rather from a love and desire of contemplation,
and from an anxiety that nothing might escape hi8
observation which deserved t o be learnt in the arcana
or mysteries of the Gods. Having been previously in-
structed therefore in the mysteries of the Phenicians,
which were derived like a colony and a progeny from
the sacred rites in Egypt, and hoping from this circum-
stance that he should be a partaker of more beautiful,
divine, and genuine monuments of erudition in ~ ~ ~ ~ t ;
iovfully calling t o mind also the admonitions of his
J 4
prece+or ~ h J e s , he immediately embarked for Egypt,
through the means of some Egyptian sailors, who very
o~~or t une l v at that time landed on the Phoenician
chist unde; mount Carmelus, in whose temple Pytha-
goras, separated from a11 society, for the -most- part
dwelt. But the sailors gladly received him, foreseeing
that they should acquire great gain by exposing him
to sale. But when, during the voyage, they perceived
with what continence and venerable gravity he con-
ducted himself. in conformity to the mode of living
he had adopted, they were mire benevolently disposes
towards him. Observing, likewise, that there was
something greater than what pertains t o human nature
in the modesty of the youth, they called t o mind how
unexpectedly he had appeared to them on their land-
ing, when from the summit of mount Carmelus, which
they knew was more sacred than other mountains, and
inaccessible to the vulgar, he leisurely descended with-
out looking back, or scffeiing any defay from precipices
or opposing stones; and that when he came t o the boat,
he said nothing more than, "Are you bound for
Egypt Z" And -farther, that on the& answering in
the affirmative, he ascended the ship and sate silent
the whole time of the voyage, in that part of the
vessel where he was not likely t o incommode the
occupations of the sailors. BU; Pythagoras remained
in one and the same unmoved state for two nights and
three days, neither partaking of food, nor dgnk, nor
sleep, unless perhaps as he sate in that f i r d and tran-
quil condition, he might sleep for a short time un-
observed by all the sailors. To which we may add,
that when the sailors considered how, contrary t b thei;
expectations, their voyage had been contiiued and
uninterru ted, as if some deity had been present;
putting a 8 these things together, they concluded that
a divine daemon had in reality passed over with them
from Syria into Egypt. ~k n c e , speaking both to
Pvthanoras and to each other with greater decorum
ahd Gntleness than before, they coGpleted, through
a most tranquil sea, the remainder of their voyage,
and at length happily landed on the Egyptian coast.
Here the sailors reverently assisted him in descending
from the shiv: and after thev had vlaced him on the
'
~ -
urest sand, they raised a certiin tem'porary altar before
Kim, and heaping on it from their present abundance
the fruits of trees, and presenting him as it were with
the first fruits of the& freight.-they departed from
thence. and hastened t o t&ei; destined Dort. But
~~t hagor as, whose body through such long &sting was
become weaker, did not oppose the sailors in assisting
him to descend from the shi , and immediately on
K their departure eat as much of t e fruits as was requisite
to rest&e his decayed strenpth. From thence dso he
arrived safe at the 'neighbo6ing lands, constantly pre-
serving the same tranquillity and modesty of behaviour.
CHAP. IV.
BUT here, while he frequented all the Egyptian
temples with the greatest ddigence and with accurate
investigation, he wns both admired and loved by the
~ri est s and ~ r o ~ h e t s with whom he associated. And
a.
Laving learnt unth the greatest solicitude every par-
ticular, he did not neglect t o hear of any transaction
that was celebrated in his own time, or of any man
famous for his wisdom, or any mystery in whatever
manner i t might be performed; nor did he omit t o
visit any place in which he thought something more
excellent might be found. On this account he went t o
all the by whom he was furnished with the
wisdom which each possessed. He spent therefore two
and twenty years in Egypt, in the 'adyta of temples,
astronomizing and geometrizing, and was initiated, not
in a superficial or casual manner, in all the mysteries
of the Gods, till at length being taken captive by the
soldiers of Cambyses, he was brought t o Babylon. Here
he gladly associated with the Magi, was instructed by
them in their venerable knowledge, and learnt from
them the most perfect worship of the Gods. Through
their assistance likewise, he arrived at the summit of
arithmetic, music, and other disciplines; and after
associating with them twelve years, he returned t o
Samos about the fifty-sixth year of his age.
CHAP. V.
ON his return to Samos, however, being known by
some of the more aged inhabitants, he was not less
V
admired than before. For he ameared t o them to be
I I
more beautiful and wise, and t o possess a divine grace-
fulness in a more eminent degree. Hence, he was
publicly called upon by his couGry t o benefit all men,
by imparting to them what he knew. Nor was he
averse-to thl's reauest. but endeavoured t o introduce
the symbolical &ode 'of teaching, in a way perfectly
similar t o the documents bv which he had been in-
structed in Egypt; though ;he Samians did not very
much admit this mode of tuition, and did not adhere
t o him with that according aptitude which was
requisite. Though no one th&ef;re attended to him,
anh no one was Penuinelv desirous of those disciplines
which he endelvoured 'by all means t o intrkduce
among the Greeks, yet he neither despised nor neglected
Samos, because it was his country, and therefore
wished t o give his fellow-citizens a tHite of the sweet-
ness of themathematical disciplines, though they were
unwilling t o be instructed in them. With a view to
this, therefore, he employed the following method and
artifice. Happening t o observe a certain youth, who
was a great lover of gymnastic and other corporeal
exercises, but otherwise poor and in difficult circum-
stances, playing at ball in the Gymnasium with great
aptness and facility, he thought the young man might
easily be persuaded t o attend to him, if he was suffi-
ciently supplied with the necessaries of life, and freed
from the care of procuring them. As soon as the youth,
therefore, left the bath, Pythagoras called him t o him,
and promised that he would furnish him with every
thing requisite t o the support of his bodily exercise, on
condition that he would receive from him gradually
and easily, but continually, so that he might not be
burthened by receiving them at once, certain disciplines,
which he said he had learnt from the Barbarians in his
youth, but which now began t o desert him through
forgetfulness and the incursions of old age. But the
young man immediately acceded to the conditions,
through the hope of having necessary support. Pytha-
goras, therefore, endeavoured t o instruct him in the
disciplines of arithmetic and geometry, forming each
of his demonstrations in an abacus, and giving the
youth three oboli as a reward for every figure which
he learnt. This also he continued to do for a long time,
exciting him t o the geometrical theory by the desire of
honour; diligentlv and in the best order, giving him
(as we have saidj three oboli for every figure which
he apprehended. But when the wise man observed
that the elegance, sweetness, and connexion of these
disciplines, t o which the youth had been led in a
certain orderly path, had so captivated him that he
would not neglect their pursuit though he should
suffer the extremity of want, he pretended poverty,
and an inability of giving him three oboli any longer.
But the youth on hearing this replied, "I am able
without these t o learn and receive your disciplines."
Pythagoras then said, "But I have not the means of
procuring sufficient nutriment for myself." As it is
requisite, therefore, to labour in order to procure daily
necessaries and mortal food, it would not be proper that
his attention should be distracted by the abacus, and
by stupid and vain pursuits. Th; youth, however,
vehemently abhorring the thought of discontinuing his
studies, replied : " I will in future provide for you, and
repay your kindness in a way resembling that of the
stork: for I in my turn will give you three oboli for
every figure." And from this time he was so captivated
by these disciplines, that he alone, of all the Samians,
Gigrated from his country with pit hagoras, having the
same name with him, but being the son of Eratocles.
There are said to be three books of this Samian On
Athletics, in which he orders the Athleta: t o feed on
flesh instead of dry figs; which books are very im-
properly ascribed by some to Pythagoras the son of
Mnesarchus. It is likewise said, that about the same
time Pythagoras was admireds at Delos, when he
approached to the bloodless altar, as it is called, of
the father Apollo, and worshipped it. After which he
went t o all the oracles. He likewise dwelt for some
time in Crete and Sparta, for the purpose of becoming
acquainted with their laws; and, having been an
auditor and learner of all these, he returned home in
order t o investigate what he had omitted. And in the
first place, indeed, he established a school in the city,
which is even now called the semicircle of Pythagoras;
and in which the Samians now consult about public
affairs, conceiving it right t o investigate things j Gt and
advantageous in that place which he had constructed
who paia attention to 'the welfare of all men. He also
formed a cavern out of the citv. a da ~t e d to his hil lo-
sophy, in which he spent the &hates; part both kf the
day and night; employing himself in the investigation
of things useful in disciplines, framing intellectual con-
ceptions after the same manner as Minos the son of
~u' ~i t e r . Indeed, he so much surpassed those who
afterwards employed his disciplines, that they conceived
magnificently of themselves, from the knowledge of
theorems of small importance ; but Pythagoras gave
completion to the science of the celestial orbs, and un-
foldid the whole of it by arithmetical and gebmetrical
demonstrations. He is, however, t o be admired in a
still greater degree for what he afterwards accomplished.
For when now philosophy had received a great accession,
he was admired by all Greece, and the best of those who
philosophized cake to ~ a mo i on his account, in order
that they might participate of his erudition. The
citizens likewise employed him in all their embassies,
I ,
and compelled him to unite with them in the admin-
'3
istration of public affairs. However, as he easily saw
the difficult J of complying with the laws of his cointry,
and at the same time remaining at home and philo-
sophizing, and considered that all philosophers before
him had passed their life in foreign countries, he
determined t o neglect all political occupations; in-
duced t o this, according t o the testimony of others,
by the negligence of the Samians in what relates t o
education, and went into Italy, conceiving that place
to be his proper country, in which men well disposed
towards learning were to be found in the greatest
abundance. And such was the success of his journey,
that on his arrival a t Crotona, which was the noblest
city in Italy, he had many followers, amounting, as it
is said, t o the number of six hundred, who were not
only excited by his discourses to the study of philosophy,
but also to an amicable division of the goods of life in
common; from whence they acquired ;he appellation
of Ca~nobita
CHAP. VI.
AND these indeed were such as philosophized. But
the greatest part of his disciples consisted of auditors
whom they call Acusmatici, who on his first arrival in
Italy, according t o Nicomachus, being captivated by
one popular oration alone, exceeded two thousand in
I I
number. These, with the'ir wives and children, being
collected into one very large and common auditory,
called Homacoion, and which for its magnitude re-
sembled a city, founded a place which was-universally
called Mama Grzcia. This great multitude of veovle
likewise, Gceiving laws and Gandates from pyth'agdras
as so many divine precepts, and without which they
1. '
engaged ih no ~cc;~ation, dwelt together with th;
greatest general concord, celebrated and ranked by
their neighbours among the number of the blessed. At
the same time, as we have already observed, they shared
their ~ossessions in common. Such also was their
revereAce for Pythagoras, that they numbered him
with the Gods, as a certain beneficent and most
philanthropic daemon. And some indeed celebrated
him as the Pythian, but others as the Hyperborean
Apollo. Some again considered him as Paeon, but
others as one of the dzemons that inhabit the moon:
and others celebrated him as one of the 0l vm~i an
I 1
Gods,l who, in order t o benefit and correct the mortal
life, appeared to the men of those times in a human
form, in order that he might extend t o them the
salutary light of felicity and-philosoph . And indeed
*E a greater good never came, nor ever w come t o man-
kind, than that which was imparted by the Gods
throbgh this Pythagoras. ~enc; , even nbw the pro-
verb of the long-haired Samian, is applied t o the most
venerable man. But Aristotle relates, in his Treatise
On the Pythagoric Philosophy, that sich a division as
From what has been said in the note, p. 3, respecting the divine
origin of Pythagoras, i t follows that he was a terrestrial hero belonging
to the series of Apollo. Thus too the Esculapius who once lived on
the earth, and was the inventor of medicine, proceeded, according to
the ancient mythology, from the God Esculapius, who subsists in
Apollo, just as the hero Bacchus proceeded from the Bacchus who
subsists in Jupiter. Hence the Emperor Julian (apud Cyril.) says of
Esculapius : " I had almost forgotten the greatest of the gifts of
Jupiter and the Sun, but I have very properly reserved i t to the last.
For it is not peculiar to us only, but is common also, I think, to our
kindred the Greeks. For Jupiter, in intelligibles, generated from
himself Esculapius ; but he was unfolded into light on the earth,
through the prolific light of the sun. He therefore, proceeding from
heaven to the earth, appeared uniformly in a human shape about
Epidaurus. But thence becoming multiplied in his progressions, he
extended his saving right hand to all the earth. He came to Pergamus,
to Ionia, to Tarentum, and afterwards to Rome. Thence he went to
the island Co, afterwards to Egas, and a t length to wherever there is
land and sea. Nor did we individually, but collectively, experience
his beneficence. And at one and the same time, he corrected souls
that were wandering in error, and bodies that were infirm."
the following was preserved by the Pythagoreans among
their principal arcana; viz. that of rational animals
one kind is a God, another man, and another such as
P~thagoras. And indeed they very reasonably appre-
hended him t o be a being of this kind, through whom
a right conception and conformable to things them-
selves was introduced of Gods, heroes, and dsmons;
of the world, the all-various motion of the spheres and
stars, their oppositions, eclipses, and inequalities, their
eccentricities and epicycles; of all the natures contained
in the heavens and the earth, together with those that
have an intermediate subsistence, whether a parent or
occult. Nor was there any thing (in all t K is variety
of information) at all contrary t o the phenomena, dr
the conceptions of intellect. To which we may add,
that all such disciplines, theories, and scientific investi-
gations, as truly invigorate the eye of the soul, and
purify the intellect from the blindness introduced by
studies of a different kind, so as to enable it to perceive
the true rinciples and causes of the universe, were
unfolded ! y Pythagoras t o the Greeks. But besides
all this, the best polity, popular concord, community
of possessions among friends, the worship of the gods,
piety t o the dead, legislation, erudition, silence, absti-
nence from animals, continence, temperance, sagacity,
divinity, and in one word, whatever is anxiously
soughtv after by the lovers of learning, was brough;
t o light by Pythagoras. On all these accounts, there-
fore, as I have just now said, he was (every where) so
transcendently admired.
CHAP. VII.
IT remains therefore after this, that we should
relate how he travelled, what places he first visited,
what discourses he made, on what subjects, and to
whom they were addressed; for thus we shall easily
apprehend the nature of his association with the men
of that time. It is said then, that as soon as he came
t o Italy and Sicily, which cities he understood had
oppressed each other with slavery, partly a t some
&stant period of past time, and partly at a recent
eriod, he inspired the inhabitants with a love of
Eberty, and through the means of his auditors, restored
to independence and liberated Crotona, Sybaris,
Catanes, Rhegium, Himaera, Agrigentum, Tauromenas,
and some other cities, for whom also he established
laws, through ~har ondas the Catanrean, and Zaleucus
the Locrian, by whom they became flourishing cities,
and afforded an example worthy of imitation, for a
long time, to the neighbouring kingdoms. He also
entirely subverted sedition, discord, and party zeal, not
only from his familiars, and their osterity, for many
generations, as we are informed y history, but, in
short, from all the cities in Italy and Sicily, which were
at that time disturbed with intestine and external
contentions. For the following apothegm was a1wa.y~
employed by him in every place, whether in the com-
pany of a multitude or a few, which was similar t o the
persuasive oracle of a God, and was an epitome and
summary as i t were of his own opinions ; that we should
avoid and amputate by every possible artifice, by fire
and sword, and all-various contrivances, from the body,
disease; from the soul, ignorance; from the belly,
luxury; from a city, sedition; from a house, discord;
and at the same time, from all things, immoderation:
through which, with a most fatherly affection, he
reminded each of his disciples oE the most excellent
dogmas. Such therefore was the common form of his
life a t that time, both in words and actions. If, how-
ever, it be requ&ite to make a more particular relation
of what he did and said, i t must be observed, that he
came t o Italy in the sixty-second Olympiad, a t which
time Eryxidas of Chalcis conquered in the stadium.
But immediately on his arrival he became conspicuous
and illustrious, in the same manner as before, when he
sailed t o Delos. For there, when he performed his
adorations a t the bloodless altar of the father Apollo,
he was admired by the inhabitants of the island.
CHAP. VIII.
AT that time also, when he was journeying from
Sybaris t o Crotona, he met near the shore with some
fishermen, who weie theh drawing their nets heavily
laden with fishes from the de e ~. and told them he knew
the exact number of the fisLathey had caught. But
the fishermen promising they would perform whatever
he should order them t o do, if the event corresponded
with his prediction, he ordered them, after they had
accurately numbered the fish, t o return them alive t o
the sea: and what is yet more wonderful, not one of
the fish died while he stood on the shore, though they
had been detained from the water a considerable time.
Having therefore paid the fishermen the price of their
fish, he departed for Crotona. But they every where
divulged the fact, and having learnt his name from
some children, they told it t o all men. Hence those
that heard of this affair were desirous of seeing the
stranger, and what they desired was easily obtained.
But they were astonished on surveying his countenance,
and conjectured him to be such a man as he was in
reality. A few days also after this, he entered the
Gymnasium, and being surrounded with a crowd of
young men, he is said to have delivered an oration to
them, in which he incited them t o pay attention t o
their elders, evincing that in the world, in life, in cities,
and in nature, that which has a precedency is more
honorable than that which is consequent in time. As
for instance, that the east is more honorable than the
west; the morning than the evening; the beginning
2
than the end; and generation than corruption. I n a
similar manner he observed, that natives were more
honorable than strangers, and the leaders of colonies
than the builders of sties: and universally Gods than
daemons; daemons than demigods; and 'heroes than
men. Of these likewise he observed, that the authors
of generation are more honorable than their progeny.
He said these things, however, for the sake of proving
by induction, that children should very much esteem
their parents, t o whom he asserted they owed as many
thanks as a dead man would owe to him who should be
able to bring him back again into light. Afterwards,
he observed, that it was indeed just to love those above
all others, and never t o give them pain, who first
benefited us, and in the greatest degree. But parents
alone benefit their children prior t o their birth, and
are the causes to their offspring of all their upright
conduct; and that when children show themselves to
be in no respect inferior to their parents in beneficence
towards them, it is not possible for them in this res ect
to err. For it is reasonable t o suppose, that the 8ods
will pardon those who honor their parents in no less
a degree than the divinities themselves; since we learnt
from our parents t o honor divinity. Hence Homer
also added the same appellation t o the king of the
Gods; for he denominates him the father of Gods and
mortals. Many other mythologists also have delivered
t o us, that the kings of the Gods have been ambitious
t o vindicate t o themselves that excessive love which
subsists through marriage, in children towards their
parents. And that on this account, they have at the
same time introduced the hypothesis of father and
mother among the Gods,l the former indeed generating
Those Gods, according to the Orphic theology, that contain in
themselves the first principle of stability, sameness, and being, and
who also were the suppliers of conversion to all things, are of a male
characteristic ; but those that are the causes of all-various progressions,
separations, and measures of life, are of a feminine peculiarity.
Minerva, but the latter Vulcan, who are of a nature
contrary t o each other, in order that what is most
remote .may participate of friendship.
All his auditors likewise having granted that the
judgment of the immortals is most valid, he said he
would demonstrate t o the Crotonians, by the example
of Hercules the founder of the colony brought t o Cro-
tona, that it is necessary t o be volu;tarily obedient t o
the mandates of parents, as they knew from tradition
that the God himself had undertaken such great labors
in consequence of obeying the commands 6f one older
than himself, and being victorious in what he had
undertaken t b accompli~h, had instituted in honor of
his father the OlympL games. He also showed them
that they should associate with each other in such
a manner, as never t o be in a state of hostility t o their
friends, but t o become most rapidly friend; to their
enemies; and that they should exhibit in modesty of
behaviour t o their elders, the benevolent disposition
of children towards their iarents: but in theiGhilan-
thropy to others, fraternal love and regard.
A
In the next place, he spoke concerning temperance,
and said, that the juvenile age should make trial of its
nature, this being the period in which the desires are
in the most flourishing state. Afterwards, he exhorted
them t o consider, that this alone among the virtues
was adapted t o a boy and a virgin, to a woman, and t o
the order of those of a more advanced age; and that
it was especially accommodated t o the younger part of
the community. He also added, that this virtue alone
comprehended the goods both of body and soul, as it
preserved the health and also the desire of the most
excellent studies. But this is evident from the opposite.
For when the Barbarians and Greeks warred on each
other about Troy, each of them fell into the most
dreadful calamities, through the incontinence of one
man, partly in the war itself, and partly in returning
t o their native land. And divinity ordained that the
~unishment of injustice alone should endure for a
J
ihousand and ten years, predicting by an oracle the
capture of Troy, and ordkring that virgins should be
annually sent by the Locrians into the temple of Troian
~ i n e r i a . ~~t ' hagor as also exhorted young men to ;he
cultivation of learning, calling on them to observe how
absurd it would be that they should judge the reason-
ing power t o be the most laudable of all things, and
should consult about other things through this, and yet
bestow no time nor labour in the exercise of i t ; though
the attention which is paid to the body, resembles
depraved friends, and ra;idly fails; but eiidition, like
worthy and good men, endures till death, and for some
persons procures immortal renown after death. These
and other observations of the like kind, were made
by Pythagoras, partly from history, and partly from
[philosophic] dogmas, in which he showed that erudi-
tion is a natural excellence of dis~osition common t o
those in each genus, who rank in thk first class of human
nature. For the discoveries of these, become erudition
t o others. But this is naturally so worthy of pursuit,
that with respect t o other laudable objects of attain-
ment, it is not possible to partake of some of them
through another person, such as strength, beauty,
health, and fortitude; and others are no longer
possessed by him who imparts them t o another, such
as wealth, dominion, and many other things which we
shall omit t o mention. It is possible, however, for
erudition to be received by anbther. without in the
least diminishing that whifh the giver possesses. I n
a similar manner also, some goods cannot be possessed
by men; but we are capable of being instructed,
according t o our own proper and deliberate choice.
And in the next place, he who being thus instructed,
engages in the administration of the affairs of his
country, does not do this from impudence, but from
erudition. For bv education merelv men differ from
wild beasts, the ~ i e e k s from the ~aibarians, those that
are free from slaves, and philosophers from the vulgar.
And in short, those that have erudition possess such a
transcendency with respect t o those that have not, that
seven men have been found from one city, and in one
Olympiad, that were swifter than others in the course;
and in the whole of the habitable part of the globe,
those that excelled in wisdom were also seven in
number. But in the following times in which Pytha-
goras lived, he alone surpassed all others in philosophy.
For he called himself by this name [viz. a philosopher],
.
instead of a wise man.
CHAP. IX.
AND this indeed is what he said t o the young men
in the Gymnasium. But when they had told their
parents what they had heard, a thousand men having
called Pythagoras into the senate-house, and praised
him for what he had said to their sons, desired him,
if he had any thing advantageous t o say to the Cro-
tonians, t o unfold it to those who were the leaders
of the administration. He was also the first that
advised them t o build a temple t o the Muses, in order
that they might preserve the existing concord. For he
observed that all these divinities were called by one
common name, [the Muses,].that they subsisted in con-
junction with each other, especially rejoiced in common
honors, and in short, that there was always one and the
same choir of the Muses. He likewise farther observed,
that they comprehended in themselves symphony, har-
mony, rhythm, and a11 things which procure concord.
They also evince that their power does not alone extend
to the most beautiful theorems, but likewise t o the
symphony and harmony of things. In the next place,
he said it was necessary they should apprehend that
they received their country from the multitude of the
citizens, as a common deposit. Hence, it was requisite
they should so govern it, that they might faithfully
transmit it to their posterity, as an hereditary possession.
And that this would firmly be effected, if they were
equal in all things t o the citizens, and surpassed them
in nothing else than justice. For men knowing that
every place requires justice, have asserted in fables that
Themis has the same order with Jupiter, that Dice,
i.e. justice, is seated by Pluto, and that Law is estab-
lished in cities; in order that he who does not act
justly in things which his rank in society requires him
t o perform, may at the same time appear t o be unjust
towards the whole world. He added, it was proper
that the senators should not make use of any of the
Gods for the purpose of an oath, but that their lang-
uage should be such as to render them worthy of belief
even without oaths. And likewise, that they should
so manage their own domestic affairs, as to make the
government of them the object of their deliberate
choice. That they should also be genuinely disposed
towards their own offspring, as being the only animals
that have a sensation of this conception. And that
they should so associate with a wife the companion of
life, as t o be mindful that other compacts are engraved
in tables and pillars, but those with wives are inserted
in children. That they should likewise endeavour t o
be beloved by their offspring, not through nature, of
which they were not the causes, but through deliberate
choice: for this is voluntary beneficence.
He further observed, that they should be careful not
t o have connexion with any but their wives, in order
that the wives may not bastardize the race through the
neglect and vicious conduct of the husbands. That
they should also consider, that they received their
wives from the Vestal hearth with libations, and
brought them home as if they were suppliants, in the
presence of the Gods themselves. And that by orderly
conduct and temperance, they should become examples
both t o their own families, and t o the city in which
they live. That besides this, they should take care to
prevent every one from acting viciously, lest offenders
not fearing the punishment of the laws, should be con-
cealed; and reverencing beautiful and worthy manners,
they should be impelled to justice. He also exhorted
them to expel sluggishness from all their actions; for
he said that opportunity was the only good in every
action. But he defined the divulsion of parents and
children from each other, t o be the g-eates; of injuries.
And said, that he ought to be considered as the most
excellent man, who is able to foresee what will be
advantageous to himself; but that he ranks as the next
in exceuence, who understands what is useful from
things which happen to others. But that he is the
worst of men who waits for the perception of what is
best, till he is himself afflicted. He likewise said, that
those who wish t o be honored, will not err if they
imitate those that are crowned in the course: for theie
do not injure their antagonists, but are alone desirous
that they themselves may obtain the victory. Thus
also it is fit that those who engage in the administration
of public affairs, should not be offended with those that
coitradict them, but should benefit such as are obedient
t o them. He likewise exhorted everv one who as~i red
after true glory, t o be such in reali;y as he wishid t o
appear t o be t o others: for counsel is not so sacred a
thLg as praise; since the former is only useful among
men, but the latter is for the most part referred t o the
~ o d s . And after all this he add;d. that their city
happened t o be founded by Hercules, at that time wheh
he drove the oxen through Italy, having been injured
by Lacinius; and when giving assistance by night to
Croton, he slew him through ignorance, conceiving him
t o be an enemy. After which, Hercules promised that
a city should be built about the sepulchre of Croton,
and should be called from him Crotona, when he him-
self became a partaker of immortality. Hence Pytha-
goras said, it was fit that they should justly return
thanks for the benefit they had received. But the
Crotonians, on hearing this, built a temple to the
Muses, and dismissed the harlots which thev were
accustomed to have. They also requested Py ,hagoras
t o discourse to the boys in the temple of Pythian Apollo,
and to the women in the temple of Juno.
CHAP. X.
PYTHAGORAS, therefore, complying with their wish,
is said to have given the boys the following advice:
That they should neither revile any one, nor take
vengeance on those that reviled. He likewise exhorted
them to pay diligent attention to learning, which
derives its appellation from their age. He added, that
i t was easy for a modest youth t o preserve probity
through the whole of life; but that it was difficult for
one G accomplish this, who was not naturally well
disposed at th& age; or rather it is impossible (hat he
who begins his course from a bad impulse, should run
well towthe end. Besides this, he o6served that boys
were most dear t o divinity, and hence in times of great
drought, they were sent by cities t o implore rain &om
the Gods, in consequence of the persuasion that divinity
is especially attentbe t o childrin; though such as aie
permitted t o be continually conversant with sacred
ceremonies, scarcely obtain purification in perfection.
From this cause also, the most philanthropic of the
Gods, Apollo and ~ o i e , are univ~rsally rep;esented in
pictures as having the age of boys. It is likewise
acknowledged, that some of the games in which the
conquerors are crowned, were instituted on account
of bbys; the Pythian, indeed, in consequence of the
serpent Python being slain by a boy ; but the Nemean
and Isthmian, on account of the death of Archemorus
and ~el i cer t a. Besides what has been said likewise,
while the city of Crotona was building, Apollo pro-
mised t o the founder, that he would give him a progeny,
if he brought a colony into Italy; from which inferring
that Apollo providentially attended to the propagation
of them, and that all the Gods paid attention to every
age, they ought t o render themselves worthy of their
friendship. He added, that they should exercise them-
selves inAhearing, in order that they may be able t o
speak. And farther still, that as soon as they have
Atered into the path in which they intend t o proceed
t o old age, they should follow the steps of those that
preceded them, and never contradict those that are
blder than themselves. For thus hereafter. they will
justly think it right that neither should theyTbe iijured
by their juniors. On account of these exhortations, it
must be confessed that he deserved not t o be called bv
his own name, but that all men should denorninaG
him divine.
CHAP. XI.
BUT to the women he is said to have discoursed con-
cerning sacrifices as follows: I n the first place indeed,
as they would wish that another person who intended
t o pray for them, should be worthy and good, because
the Gods attend to such as these; thus also it is requisite
that they should in the highest degree esteem equity
and modesty, in order that the Gods may be readily
disposed to hear their prayers. I n the next place, they
should offer to the Gods such things as they have pro-
duced with their own hands, and should bring them
to the altars without the assistance of servants, such as
cakes, honey-combs, and frankincense. But that they
should not worship divinity with blood and dead bodies,
nor offer many things at one time, as if they never meant
t o sacrifice again. With respect also to their association
with men, he exhorted them to consider that their
parents granted t o the female nature, that they should
love their husbands in a greater degree than those who
were the sources of their existence. That in conse-
quence of this, they would do well either not t o oppose
their husbands, or t o think that they have then van-
quished, when they submit t o them. Farther still, in
the same assembly also, Pythagoras is said to have made
that celebrated observation, that it is holy for a woman,
after having been connected with her husband, t o per-
form sacred rites on the same day; but that this is never
holy, after she has been connected with any other man.
He also exhorted the women to use words of good omen
through the whole of life, and t o endeavor that others
may predict good things of them. He likewise ad-
monished them not t o destroy popular renown, nor t o
blame the writers of fables, who surveying the justice
of women, from their accommodating others with
garments and ornaments, without a witness, when it
is necessary for some other person t o use them, and
that neither litigation nor contradiction are produced
from this confidence,-have feigned, that three women
used but one eye in common, on account of the facility
of their communion with each other. He farther
observed, that he who is called the wisest of all-others,
and who gave arrangement t o the human voice, and
in short, was the inventor of names, whether he was
a God or a daemon, or a certain divine man,l perceiving
1 This inventor of names was called by the Egyptians Theuth, as
we are informed by Plato in the Philebus and Phaedrus ; in the latter
of which dialogues, Socrates says : " I have heard, that about Nau-
cratis in Egypt, there was one of the ancient Gods of the Egyptians,
to whom a bird was sacred, which they call Ibis ; but the name of the
daemon himself was Theuth. According to tradition, this God first
discovered number and the art of reckoning, geometry and astronomy,
the games of chess and hazard, and likewise letters." On this passage
I observe as follows, in Vol. 3. of my translation of Plato : The genus
of disciplines belonging to Mercury, contains gymnastic, music, arith-
metic, geometry, astronomy, and the art of speaking and writing.
This God, as he is the source of invention, is called the son of Maia ;
that the genus of women is most adapted t o piety, gave
t o each of their ages the appellation of some God.
Hence he called an unmarried woman Core, i.e.
Proserpine; but a bride, Nympha; the woman who
has brought forth children, Mater ; and a grandmother,
according t o the Doric dialect, Maia. I n conformity
t o which also, the oracles in Dodona and a t Delphi,
are unfolded into light through a woman. But through
this praise pertaining t o piety, Pythagoras is said to
have produced so great a change in female attire, that
the women no longer dared to clothe themselves with
costly garments, but consecrated many myriads of their
vestments in the temple of Juno. The effect also of
this discourse is said to have been such, that about the
region of the Crotonians the fid.elity of the husband to
the wife was universally celebrated; [imitating in this
respect] Ulysses, who would not receive immortality
from Calv~so. on condition that he should abandon
( I '
Penelope. Pythagoras therefore also observed, that it
remained for the women to exhibit their probity to
their husbands, in order that they might be equally
because investigation, which is implied by Maia, produces invention :
and as unfolding the will of Jupiter, who is an intellectual God, he
is the cause of mathesis or discipline. He first subsists in Jupiter,
the artificer of the world ; next among the supermundane Gods ;
in the third place, among the liberated Gods ; fourthly, in the planet
Mercury ; fifthly, in the Mercurial order of daemons ; sixthly, in
human souls, who are the attendants of this God ; and in the seventh
degree, his properties subsist in certain animals, such as the ibis, the
ape, and sagacious dogs. The narration of Socrates in this place, is
both allegorical and anagogic or reductory. Naucratis is a region of
Egypt eminently subject to the influence of Mercury, though the
whole of Egypt is allotted to this divinity. Likewise, in this city a
man once flourished full of the Mercurial power, because his soul
formerly existed in the heavens of the Mercurial order. But he was
first called Theuth, that is, Mercury, and a God, because his soul
subsisted according to the perfect similitude of this divinity. But
afterwards a dzmon, because from the God Mercury, through a
Mercurial daemon, gifts of this kind are transmitted to a Mercurial
soul.
celebrated with Ulysses. I n short, i t is recorded that
through the above-mentioned discourses, Pythagoras
obtained no moderate honor and esteem, both in the
city of the Crotonians and throughout Italy.
CHAP. XII.
IT is also said, that Pythagoras was the first who
-
called himself a philosopher; this not being a new
name, but previouslv instructing us in a useful manner
A 4 u
in a thing appropriate t o the name. For he said that
the entrance of men into the present life, resembled
the progression of a crowd t o some spectacle.
For there men of every description assemble with
different views; one hastening t o sell his wares for the
sake of money and gain; but another that he may
ac uire renown by exhibiting the strength of his body;
an I there is also a third class of men, and those the most
liberal, who assemble for the sake of surveying the places,
the beautiful works of art, the specimens of valor, and
the literary productions which a;e usually exhibited on
such occasions. Thus also in the present life, men of
all-various pursuits are collected together in 'one and
the same place. For some are influenced by the desire
of riches and luxury; others by the love of power and
dominion; and others are possessed with an insane
ambition for glory. But the most pure and un-
adulterated character, is that of the man who gives
himself t o the contemplation of the most beautiful
things, and whom it is proper to call a phi10so~her.l
He adds, that the survey of all heaven, and of the stars
that revolve in it, is indeed beautiful, when the order
of them is considered. For they derive this beauty and
1 Iamblichus derived this very beautiful passage from Heraclides
Ponticus, as is evident from Cicero, Tusc. Quzst. lib. v. 3. who relates
the same thing of Pythagoras, from the aforesaid author.
order by the participation of the first and the intelligible
essence. But that first essence is the nature of number
and reasons [i.e. productive principles,] which pervades
through all things, and according t o which all these
[celestial bodies] are elegantly arranged, and fitly
adorned. And wisdom indeed, truly so called, is a
certain science which is conversant with the first
beautiful objects,' and these divine, undecaying, and
possessing an invariable sameness of subsistence; by the
participation of which other things also may be called
beautiful. But philosophy is the appetition of a thing
of this kind. The attention therefore t o erudition is
likewise beautiful, which Pythagoras extended, in order
t o effect the correction of mankind.
CHAP. XIII.
MOREOVER, if we may believe in so many ancient and
credible historians as have written concerning him, the
words of Pyth.agoras contained something of a recalling
and admonitory nature, which extended as far as t o
irrational animals; by which it may be inferred that
learning predominates in those endued with intellect,
since it tames even wild beasts, and those which are
considered t o be deprived of reason. For i t is said
that Pythagoras detained the Daunian bear which had
most sLveray injured the inhabitants, and that having
gently stroked it with his hand for a long time, fed it
with maize and acorns, and compelled it by an oath no
longer to touch any liiing thing, he dismissed it. But
the bear immediately after hid herself in the mountains
and woods, and was hever seen from that time t o attack
any irrational animal. Perceiving likewise an ox at
Tarentum feeding in a pasture, and eating among other
things green-beans, he advised the herdsman to tell the
i.e. With intelligibles properly so called.
ox t o abstain from the beans. The herdsman, however,
laughed a t him, and said that he did not inderstand
the language of oxen, but if Pythagoras did, it was in
vain t o advise him t o speak to the ox, but fit that he
himself should advise the animal t o abstain from such
food. Pythagoras therefore, approaching t o the ear of
the OX, and whispering in it for a long time, not only
caused him then t o refrain from beans, but i t is said
that he never after tasted them. This dx also lived for
a long time a t Tarentum near the temple of Juno,
where it remained when it was old, and was called the
sacred ox of Pythagoras. It was also fed by those that
came t o i t with human food. When likewise he
happened t o be conversing with his familiars about
biids, symbols, and prodig&s, and was observing that
all these are the messengers of the Gods, sent by them
to those men who are t rul y dear to the Gods, he is
said t o have brought down ah eagle that was flying over
Olympia, and after gently stroking, to have dismissed
it. Through these things, therefore, and other things
similar t o these, he demonstrated that he possessed
the same dominion as Orpheus, over savage animals,
and that he allured and detained them by the power
# A
of voice proceeding from the mouth.
CHAP. XIV.
WITH him likewise the best principle originated of
a guardian attention t o the concerns of men, and which
o&ht t o be pre-assumed by those who intend t o lcarn
th; truth about other things. For he reminded many
of his familiars, by most clear and evident indications,
of the former life-which their soul lived, before i t was
bound t o this body, and demonstrated by indubitable
arguments, that he had been Euphorbus the son of
panthus, who conquered Patroc1us.- And he especially
praised the following funeral Homeric verses pertaining
t o himself, sung them most elegantly t o the lyre, and
frequently repeated them.
" The shining circlets of his golden hair,
Which ev'n the Graces might be proud to wear,
Instarr'd with gems and gold, bestrow the shore
With dust dishonor'd, and deform'd with gore.
As the young olive in some sylvan scene,
Crown'd by fresh fountains with eternal green,
Lifts the gay head, in snowy flowrets fair,
And plays and dances to the gentle air ;
When lo! a whirlwind from high heav'n invades
The tender plant, and'withers all its shades;
It lies uprooted from its genial bed,
A lovely ruin now defac'd and dead.
Thus young, thus beautiful, Euphorbus lay,
While the fierce Spartan tore his arms away." 1
But what is related about the shield of this Phrygian
Euphorbus, being dedicated among other Trojan spoils
to Argive Juno, we shall omit, as being of a very popular
nature. That, however, which he wished to indicate
through all these particulars is this, that he knew the
former lives which he had lived, and that from hence
he commenced his providential attention t o others,
reminding them of their former life.
CHAP. XV.
CONCEIVING, however, that the first at tent ion which
should be paid t o men, is that which takes place through
the senses; as when some one perceives beautiful
figures and forms, or hears beautiful rhythms and
Geelodies, he established that to be the first erudition
which subsists through music, and also through certain
1 lib. I The translation by Pope.
melodies and rhythms, from which the remedies of
human manners and passions are obtained, together
with those harmonies of the vowers of the soul which
i t possessed from the first. IfIe likewise devised medi-
ciies calculated t o repress and expel the diseases both
of bodies and souls. And by ~ u ~ i t e r that which deserves
to be mentioned above all these particulars is this, that
he arranged and adapted for his d;sciples what are called
apparatus and contrectations, divinely contriving mix-
tures of certain diatonic, chromatic, and euharmonic
melodies, through which he easily transferred and
circularly led th; passions of the soul into a contrary
direction, when they had recently and in an irrational
and clandestine manner been formed; such as sorrow,
rage, and pity, absurd emulation and fear, all-varioub
desires, angers, and appetites, pride, supineness, and
vehemence. For he corrected each of these by the
rule of virtue, attempering them through appropriate
melodies, as through certain salutary medicines. I n
the evening, likewise, when his disciples were retiring
to sleep, he liberated them by these means from diurnal
~erturbations and tumults. and ~uri fi ed their intellec-
iive power from the influxive aAd effluxive waves of a
corporeal nature; rendered their sleep quiet, and their
dreams pleasing and prophetic. But when they again
rose from their bed, he freed them from nocturnal
heaviness, relaxation and torpor, through certain
peculiar songs and modulations, produced either by
simply striking the lyre, or employing the voice.
Pythagoras, however, did not procure for himself a
thing of this kind through instruments or the voice,
but em laying a certain ineffable divinity, and which
i t is di P cult t o apprehend, he extended his ears, and
fixed his intellect in the sublime svm~honies of the
J I
world, he alone hearing and understanding, as it
appears, the universal harmony and consonance of
the spheres, and the stars that are moved through
them, and which produce a fuller and more intense
melody than any thing effected by mortal sounds.'
This melodv also was the result of dissimilar and
variously differing sounds, celerities, magnitudes, and
intervals, arranged with reference t o each other in a
certain most misical ratio, and thus producing a most
gentle, and at the same time various1 J beautifd motion
and convolution. Being therefore &rigated as i t were
with this melodv, having the reason of his intellect well
arranged through it, and as I may say, exercised, he
determined t o exhibit certain images of these things to
1 " The PythagoreansYn says Simplicius, in his Commentary on the
2d book of Aristotle's treatise On the Heavens, said, " that an har-
monic sound was ~roduced from the motion of the celestial bodies,
and they scientifically collected this from the analogy of their intervals ;
since not only the ratios of the sun and moon, of Venus and Mercury,
but also of the other stars, were discovered by them." Simplicius
adds, " Perhaps the objection of Aristotle to this assertion of the
Pythagoreans, may be solved according to the philosophy of those
men, as follows : All things are not commensurate with each other,
nor is every thing sensible to every thing, even in the sublunary
region. This is evident from dogs who scent animals a t a great distance,
and which are not smelt by men. How much more, therefore, in
things which are separated by so great an interval as those which are
incorruptible from the corruptible, and celestial from terrestrial
natures, is i t true to say, that the sound of divine bodies is not audible
by terrestrial ears ? But if any one like Pythagoras, who is reported
to have heard this harmony, should have his terrestrial body exempt
from him, and his luminous and celestial vehicle l and the senses
which i t contains purified, either through a good allotment, or through
probity of life, or through a perfection arising from sacred operations,
such a one will perceive things invisible to others, and will hear things
inaudible by others. With respect to divine and immaterial bodies,
however, if any sound is produced by them, it is neither percussive
nor destructive, but it excites the powers and energies of sublunary
sounds, and perfects the sense which is co-ordinate with them. It
1 The soul has three vehicles, one etherial, another aerial, and the
third this terrestrial body.
The first, which is luminous and celestial,
is connate with the essence of the soul, and in which alone it resides
in a state of bliss in the stars. In the second, i t suffers the punish-
ment of its sins after death. And from the third i t becomes an
inhabitant of earth.
3
his disciples as much as possible, especially producing
an imitation of them through instruments, and through
the mere voice alone. For he conceived that by him
alone, of all the inhabitants of the earth, the mundane
sounds were understood and heard, and this from a
natural fountain itself and root. ~e' t herefore thought
himself worthy t o be taught, and to learn something
about the celestial orbs, and to be assimilated to them
by desire and imitation, as being the only one on the
earth adapted t o this by the con7ormatiod of his body,
through <he dzmoniacal power that inspired him. it
he apprehended that ot6er men oughi to be satisfied
in looking to him, and the gifts he possessed, and in
being benefited and corrected through images and
examples. in consequence of their inabilitv to compre-
hend;ruly the firs; and genuine archetypes of thkgs.
Just, indeed, as to those who are incapable of looking
intently at the sun, through the transcendent splendor
of his rays, we contrive to exhibit the eclipses of that
has also a certain analogy to the sound which concurs with the motion
of terrestrial bodies. But the sound which is with us in consequence
of the sonorific nature of the air, is a certain energy of the motion of
their impassive sound. If, then, air is not passive there, i t is evident
that neither will the sound which is there be passive. Pythagoras,
however, seems to have said that he heard the celestial harmony, as
understanding the harmonic proportions in numbers, of the heavenly
bodies, and that which is audible in them. Some one, however, may
very properly doubt why the stars are seen by our visive sense, but th;
sound of them is not heard by our ears ? To this we reply that neither
do we see the stars themselves ; for we do not see their magnitudes,
or their figures, or their surpassing beauty. Neither do we see the
motion through which the sound is produced ; but we see as i t were
such an illumination of them, as that of the light of the sun about the
earth, the sun himself not being seen by us. Perhaps roo, neither will
i t be wonderful, that the visive sense, as being more immaterial, sub-
sisting rather according to energy than according to passion, and very
much transcending the other senses, should be thought worthy to
receive the splendor and illumination of the celestial bodies, but that
the other senses should not be adapted for this purpose. Of these,
however, and such like particulars, if any one can assign more probable
causes, let him be considered as a friend, and not as an enemy."
luminarv. either in the profundity of still water, or
througk melted pitch, or 'through sbme darkly-splendid
mirror; sparing the imbecility of their eyes, and devising
a method of representing a certain repercussive light,
though less intense than its archetype, to those who are
delighted with a thing of this kind.
Empedocles also
appears t o have obscurely signified this about Py-
thagoras, and the illustrious and divinely-gifted con-
formation of his body above that of other men, when
he says:
"There was a man among them [i.e. among the
Pythagoreans] who was t'ranscendent in knowledge, who
possessed the most ample stores of intellectual wealth,
and who was in the most eminent degree the adjutor
of the works of the wise. For when he extended all
the powers of his intellect, he easily beheld every thing,
as far as to ten or twenty ages of the human race."
For the words transcendent, and he beheld every thing,
and the wealth of intellect, and the like, especially ex-
hibit the illustrious nature of the conformation of his
mind and body, and its superior accuracy in seeing, and
hearing, and in intellectual perception.
CHAP. XVI.
THIS adaptation therefore of souls was procured by
him through music. But another purification of the
dianoetic part,' and a t the same time of the whole soul.
through ;;ll-v&-ious studies, was effected by him a6
follows : He conceived generally that labor should be
employed about disci lines and studies, and ordained
Y like a legislator, tria s of the most various nature,
punishments, and restraints by fire and sword, for
1 i.e. Of the discursive energy of reason, or that part of the soul
that reasons scientifically, deriving the principles of its reasoning from
intellect.
innate intemperance, and an inexhaustible avidity of
possessing; which he-who is depraved can neither siff er
nor sustain. Besides these things also, he ordered his
familiars to abstain from all animals, and farther still
from certain foods, which are hostile t o the reasoning
power, and impede its genuine energies. He likewise
enjoined them continence of speech, and perfect
silence, exercising them for many years in the subjuga-
tion of the tongue, and in a strenuous and assiduous
investigation ai d >esumption of the most difficult
theorems. Hence also, he ordered them to abstain
from wine, t o be sparing in their food, to sleep little,
and t o have an unstudied contempt of, and hostility
t o glory, wealth, and the like : to have an unfeigned
reverence of those to whom reverence is due, a genuine
similitude and benevolence to those of the same age
with themselves, and an attention and incitation
towards their juniors, free from all envy. With re-
spect to the imitv also which subsists 'in all things
towards all, whethkr it be that of Gods towards men
through piety and scientific theory, or of dogmas to-
wards each other, or universally of the soul towards the
body, and of the rational towards the irrational part,
through philosophy, and the theory pertaining t o i t ;
or whether it be that of men t o each other, of citizens
indeed through sound legislation, but of strangers
through a correct physiology; or of the husband to
the wife, or of brothers and kindred, through un-
perverted communion; or whether, in short, it be of
all things towards all, and still farther, of certain
irrational animals through justice, and a physical con-
nexion and association; or whether it be the pacification
and conciliation of the body which is of itself mortal,
and of its latent contrary powers, through health, and
a diet and temperance conformable to this, in imitation
of the salubrious condition of the mundane elements;
-of the appellation of all these, which are summarily
comprehended in one and the same name, that of
friendship, Pythagoras is acknowledged t o have been
the inventor and legislator. And, in short, he was the
cause t o his disciples of the most appropriate converse
with the Gods, both when they were awake and when
asleep; a thing which never takes place in a soul dis-
turbed by anger, or pain, or pleasure, or, by Jupiter,
by any other base desize, or defiled by ignorance, which
is more unholy and noxious than all these. By all these
inventions, therefore, he divinely healed and purified
the soul, resuscitated and saved its divine part, and
conducted t o the intelligible its divine eye, which, as
Plato savs, is better worth saving than ten thousand
t '
corporeal eyes; for by looking through this alone, when
it is strengthened and clarified by appropriate aids, the
truth pertaining to all beings is perceived. Referring
therefore t o this, Pythagoras purified the dianoetic
power of the soul. Such-also was the form with him
of erudition, and these were the things t o which he
directed his view.
CHAP. XVII.
As he therefore thus prepared his disciples for erudi-
tion, he did not immediately receive into the number
of his associates those who came to him for that purpose,
till he had made trial of, and judiciously examined them.
Hence in the first place he inquired after what manner
they associated with their par;nts, and the rest of their
relatives. I n the next place he surveved their un-
seasonable laughter, the& silence, and ;heir speaking
when it was not proper; and farther still, what their
desires were, with whom they associated, how they con-
versed with them, in what * they especially employed
their leisure time in the day, and what were the sub-
jects of their joy and grief. He likewise surveyed their
form, their mode of walking, and the whole motion
of their body. Physiognomically also considering the
natural indications of their frame, he made them to be
manifest signs of the unapparent manners of the soul.
When, therefore, he had thus made trial of some one,
he suffered him t o be neglected for three years, in the
mean time observing how he was disposed with respect
to stability, and a true love of learning, and if he was
sufficiently prepared with reference to glory, so as t o
despise [popular] honor. After this, he ordered those
who came t o him t o observe a quinquennial silence, in
order that he might experimentally know how they
were affected as t o continence of speech, the subjuga-
tion of the tongue being the most difficult of all
victories; as those have unfolded t o us who instituted
the mysteries. During this [probationary] time, how-
ever, the property of each was disposed of in common,
and was committed t o the care of those appointed for
this purpose, who were called politicians, economizers,
and legislators. And with respect to these proba-
tioners, those who appeared t o be worthy to participate
of his dogmas, fium the judgment he had formed of
them from their life and the modesty of their behaviour,
after the quinquennial silence, th& became ~ r o t ~ r i c s ;
and both Geard and saw Pythaaoras himself within the
veil. For prior t o this thy participated of his words
through the hearing alone, beyond the veil, without at
all seeing him, giving for a long time a specimen of
their peculiar manners. But if thev were reiected thev
receiGed the double of the wealth hhich t hi y broughi,
and a tomb was raised t o them as if they were dead by
the homacoz ; for thus all the disciples of the man were
called. And if they happened to meet with them after-
wards, they behaved t o them as if they were other
persons, b i t said that they were dead, whom they had
modelled bv education. in the ex~ectation that- thev
would becdme truly gobd men by;he disciplines thhy
would learn. They also were of opinion that those
who were more slow in the acquisition of knowledge,
were badly organized, and, as- I may say, imperfgct
and barren. If, however, after Pythagoras had phy-
siognomically considered their form, their mode of
walking, and every other motion, and the state of their
body, and he had conceived good hope respecting
them; after likewise the quinquennial silence, and the
orgies and initiations from so many disciplines, together
with the ablutions of the soul, and so many and such
great purifications produced from such various theorems,
through which the sagacity and sanctity of the soul is
perfectly ingenerated; if, after all this, some one was
found t o be still sluggish and of a dull intellect, they
raised to such a one in the school a certain pillar and
monument, (as they are said t o have done to Perialus
the Thurian, and Cylon the prince of the Sybarites,
who were rejected by them) expelled him from the
Homacoion or auditory, loading him with a great
quantity of silver and gold. For these were deposited
by them in common, and were committed t o the care
of certain persons adapted t o this purpose, and who
were called Economics, from the office which they bore.
And if afterwards they happened to meet with such a
one, they conceived him t o be any other person, than
him who according t o them was dead. Hence also
Lysis, blaming a certain person named Hipparchus,
because he had communicated the doctrines of the
Pythagoreans t o the profane, and to those who acceded
t o them without disciplines and theory, says as follows:
"It is reported that you philosophize t o every one
you may happen t o meet, and publicly, which Pytha-
goras did not think fit to do. And these things, indeed,
0 Hipparchus, you learnt with diligent assiduity, but
you have not preserved them; having tasted, 0 ex-
cellent man, of Sicilian delicacies, which you ought
not t o have tasted a second time. If, therefore, you
abandon these, I shall rejoice; but if not, you will be
dead in my opinion. For i t will be pious t o call t o
mind the divine and human precepts of Pythagoras,
and not t o make the goods of wisdom common t o those,
who have not even in a dream their soul purified. For
it is not lawful t o extend t o every casual $erson, things
which were obtained with such great labors, and such
diligent assiduity, nor t o divulge the mysteries of the
Eleusinian Goddesses t o the profane. For those who
do either of these, are equally unjust and impious. But
it will be well t o consider what a great length of time
we consumed in wiping away the stains which had
insinuated themselves into our breasts, till, after the
lapse of some years, we became fit recipients of the
doctrines of Pyt hagoras. For as dyers previously
purify garments, and then fix in the colors with which
they wish them t o be imbued, in order that the dye
may not be washed away, and may never become
evanescent; after the same manner also that divine
man prevaied the souls of those that were lovers of
philosbphy, so that they might not deceive him in any
of those beautiful and good qualities which he hoved
they would possess. F& he 'did not impart spuribus
doctrines, nor snares, in which most of the sophists,
who are a t leisure for no good purpose, entangle young
men; but he possessed a scientific knowledge of things
human and divine. These men, however, making his
doctrine a pretext, perform many dreadful deeds,
ensnaring youth not in a becoming nor yet in a casual
way. Hence they render their auditors noxious and
precipitate. For they infuse theorems and divine
aoctdnes into confuseh and turbid manners. Just as
if some one should pour pure and clear water into a
deep well full of mua; fo; he would disturb the mud,
and destroy the clear water. The same thing likewise
takes place between those who teach and those who
are taupht after this manner. For dense thickets and
which Yare full of briars surround the intellect and
heart of those who have not been purely initiated in
disciplines, obscure the mild, tranduil, and reasoning
power of the soul, and openly impede the intellective
part from becoming increased and elevated. It is
requisite likewise to call intemperance and avarice the
mothers of these thickets; both which are naturally
prolific. From intemperance, therefore, unlawful
marriages, [unjust] desires, corruptions, intoxication,
reternatural pleasures, and certain vehement appetites
Lossom forth, and which impel their possessors into
profundities and precipices. For now desires have
compelled some not t o abstain either from their
mothers or their daughters, and violating law, their
country, city, and king, with their hands as it were
bound behind them, they are violently dragged along
like slaves t o extreme destruction. But from avarice
germinate rapine, robbery, parricide, sacrilege, sorcery,
and such other evils as are the sisters of these. I n the
first place, therefore, it is necessary t o purify the woods
in which these passions have fixed their abode, with
fire and sword, and all the machines of disciplines;
and having liberated the reasoning power from such
mighty evils, we may then implant in and deliver to
i t something useful and good." So great and so neces-
sary was the attention which, according t o Pythagoras,
ought t o be paid t o disciplines prior t o philosophy. He
likewise ordained that a singular honor, and the most
accurate investigation, shouih be given t o the teaching
and participation of his dogmas, as he judiciously
examined the conceptions of those that came to him.
by various documints, and ten thousand forms o i
scientific theory.
CHAP. XVIII.
AFTER this we must narrate how, when he had
admitted certain persons t o be his disciples, he dis-
tributed them into different classes according t o their
respective merits. For it was not fit that all of them
should equally participate of the same things, as they
were naturally dissimilar; nor was it indeed right that
some should participate of all the most honorable
auditions, but others of none, or should not at all
partake of them. For this would be uncommunicative
and unjust. While therefore he imparted a convenient
portion of his discourses t o each, he benefited as much
as possible all of them, and preserved the proportion
of justice, by making each a partaker of the auditions
according to his desert. Hence, in conformity to this
method, he called some of them Pythagoreans, but
others Pythagorists ; just as we denominate some men
Attics, but others Atticists. Having therefore thus
aptly divided their names, some of them he considered
t o be genuine, but he ordained that others should show
themselves to be the emulators of these. He ordered
therefore that with the Pythagoreans possessions should
be shared in common, and that they should always live
together ; but that each of the others should possess his
o& apart from the rest, and that a'ssembling
together in the same place, they should mutually be at
leisure for the same pursuits. And thus each of these
modes was derived from Pythagoras, and transmitted
t o his successors. Again, .there were also with the
Pythagoreans two forms of philosophy; for there were
likewise two genera of those that pursued it, the Acus-
matici, and the Mathematici. Of these however the
~a t he ma t i c i are acknowledged to be Pythagoreans by
the rest ; but the Mathematici do not admit that the
Acusmatici are so, or that they derived their instruction
from Pythagoras, but from Hippasus. And with respect
t o Hippasus, some say that he was a Crotonian, but
others a Metapontine. But the philosophy of the
Acusmatici consists in auditions unaccompanied with
demonstrations and a reasoning process; because i t
merely orders a thing t o be done in a certain way, and
that they should endeavour to preserve such other
things as were said by him, as so many divine dogmas.
They however profess that they will not speak of them,
and that they are not t o be spoken of; but they con-
ceive those of their sect to be the best furnished with
wisdom, who retained what they had heard more than
others. But all these auditions are divided into three
species. For some of them indeed signify what a thing
is; others what it especially is; but others, what ought,
or what ought not, t o be done. The auditions there-
fore which signify what a thing is, are such as, What
are the islands of the blessed? The sun and moon.
What is the oracle at Delphi? The tetractys. What
is harmony? That in which the Syrens subsist? But
the audit:ons which signify what a thing es eciallv is,
are such as, What is the most just thing? ?P o sacrcfice.
-
What is the wisest thing? umber.' But the next
t o this in wisdom, is that which gives names to things.
What is the wisest of the things that are with us,
[i.e. which pertain to human concerns]? Medicine.
What is the most beautiful? Harmony. What is the
most powerful? Mental decision. what is the most
Kuster, one of the editors of this Life of Pythagoras, not perceiving
that these auditions are both questions and answers, has made them
to be questions only, and in consequence of this was completely at a
loss to conceive the meaning of o*mp imlv ;I ippovla, i v 2j at &ifivcc.
Hence, he thinks i t should be, si iurlv ;I dppovla 6 rjsov at Zripijvcs ;
but is not satisfied with this reading after all. Something I have no
doubt is wanting ; but the sense of the passage is, I conceive, that
which is given in the above translation.
a " Pythagoras," (says Proclus in MSS. Schol. in Cratylum,) " being
asked what was the wisest of things, said i t was number ; and being
asked what was the next in wisdom, said, he who gave names to things.
But by number, he obscurely signified the intelligible order, which
comprehends the multitude of intellectual forms : for there that which
is the first, and properly number, subsists after the superessential one.'
This likewise supplies the measures of essence to all beings, in which
also true wisdom, and knowledge which is of itself, and which is con-
verted to and perfects itself, subsist. And as there the intelligible,
intellect, and intelligence, are the same, so there also number and
l i.e. Number according to cause, which subsists at the extremity
of the intelligible order. For number according to hyparxis or
essence, subsists at the summit of the order which is intelligible and
at the same time intellectual. See the 3d book of my translation
of Proclus on the Theology of Plato.
excellent? Felicity. What is that which is most truly
asserted? That ke n are depraved. Hence they say
that Pythagoras praised the Salaminian poet Hippo-
domas, because he sings:
Tell, 0 ye Gods! t he source from whence you came,
Say whence, 0 men! thus evil you became ?
These therefore, and such as these, are the auditions
of this kind. For each of these shows what a thing
es~eci al l v is. This however is the same with what is
chled the wisdom of the seven wise men. For they
investigated, not what is simply good, but what is
especially so; nor what is difficult, but what is most
difficult; viz. for a man to know himself. Nor did
they investigate what is easy, but what is most easy;
viz. to do what you are accustomed to do. For it
seems that such auditions as the above, are conform-
able but posterior in time t o such wisdom as that of the
A
seven wise men; since they were prior to Pythagoras.
The auditions likewise, respecting what should or should
not be done, were such as; hat-it is necessary t o beget
children. For it is necessary to leave those that may
worshi ~ the Gods after us. That it is reauisite to ~ u t
I -
the sh;e on the right foot first. That it is not proper
to walk in the pu&lic ways, nor to dip in a spr%klfng
vessel, nor t o be washed in a bath. For in all these it
is immanifest, whether those who use them are pure.
Others also of this kind are the following: Do not
assist a man in laying a burden down; for it is not
proper to be the cause of not laboring; but assist him
wisdom are the same. But by the founder of names, he obscurely
signified the soul, which indeed subsists from intellect, and is not
things themselves like the first intellect, but possesses the images and
essential transitive reasons of them as statues of beings. Being, there-
fore, is imparted to all things from intellect, which knows itself and
is replete with wisdom ; but that they are denominated is from soul,
which imitates intellect. Pythagoras therefore said, that it was not
the business of any casual person to fabricate names, but of one looking
to intellect and the nature of things."
in taking it up.
Do not draw near to a woman for the
sake of begetting children, if she has gold. Speak not
about Pythagoric concerns without light. Perform
libations to the Gods from the handle of the cup, for
the sake of an auspicious omen, and in order thai-you
may not drink from the same part rfrom which you
p;red out the liquor]. Wear hot tfie image of ~ o d
in a ring, in order that it may not be defiled. For it is
a resemblance which ought t o be placed in the house.
It is not right t o use a woman ill; for she is a suppliant.
On this account also we bring her from the Vestal
hearth, and take her by the ;ight hand. Nor is i t
proper t o sacrifice a white cock; for this also is a sup-
pliant, and is sacred to the moon. Hence likewise it
;nnouhces the hours. To him who asks for counsel,
give no other advice than that which is the best: fo;
counsel is a sacred thing. Labors are good; but
pleasures are in every respect bad. For as we came
into the present life for the purpose of punishment, i t
is necessary that we should be punished. It is proper
t o sacrifice, and t o enter temples unshod. In going to
a temple, it is not proper to turn out of the way ; for
divinity should not be worshipped in a careless manner.
It is good t o sustain, and t o have wounds in the breast;
but it is bad t o have them behind. The soul of man
alone does not enter into those animals, which it is
lawful t o kill. Hence it is proper t o eat those animals
alone which it is fit t o slay, but no other animal what-
ever. And such were the auditions of this kind.
The most extended however were those concerning
sacrifices, how they ought t o be performed a t all other
times, and likewise when migrating from the present
life; and concerning sepulture, and in what manner it
is proper to be buried. Of some of these therefore the
reason is t o be assigned why they are ordered; such
for instance as, it is necessary t o beget children, for the
The words r kpt n60aydpttov are omitted in the original, but
from the Protrept. of Iamblichus evidently ought to be inserted.
sake of leaving another that may worship the Gods
instead of yourself. But of others no reason is t o be
assigned. And of some indeed, the reasons are assumed
proximately; but of others, remotely; such as, that
bread is not to be broken, because it contributes to the
judgment in Hades. he probable reasons however,
which are added about things of this kind, are not
Pythagoric, but were devised by some who philo-
sophized differently from the Pythicgoreans, and who
endeavoured t o a d a ~ t ~robabilitv t o what was said.
Thus for instance, &th1respect t b what has been just
now mentioned, why bread is not to be broken, some
say that it is not proper to dissolve that which con-
gregates. For formerly all those that were friends,
assembled in a barbaric manner t o one piece of bread.
But others say, that it is not proper, inathe beginning
of an undertaking, t o produce an omen of this kind by
breaking and diminishing. Moreover, all such precepts
as define what is to be done, or what is not to be done,
refer t o divinity as their end; and every life is co-
arranged so as t b follow God. This also is (he principle
and the doctrine of ~hilosophv. For men act ridicu-
lously in searching f i r good ahy where else than from
the Gods. And when they do so, it is iust as if some
one, in a country governed by a king, shbuld reverence
one of the citizens who is a magistrate, and neglect
him who is the ruler of all of them. For the Pvtha-
goreans thought that such men as we have just ken-
tioned,.performed a thing of this kind. For since God
is, and is the lord of all things, it is universally acknow-
ledged that good is to be requested of him. For all men
impart good to those whom they love, and to those with
whom they are delighted; but they give the contrary
t o good t o those t o whom they are contrarily disposed.
And such indeed is the wisdom of these precepts.
There was, however, a certain person named Hippo-
medon, an Egean, a Pythagorean and one of the
Acusmatici, who asserted that Pythagoras gave the
reasons and demonstrations of all these precepts, but
that in consequence of their being delivered t o many,
and these such as were of a more sluggish genius, the
demonstrations were taken away, but the problems
themselves were left. Those however of the Pytha-
goreans that are called Mathcmatici, acknowledge that
these reasons and demonstrations were added by
Pythagoras, and they say still more than this, and
contend that their assertions are true, but affirm that
the following circumstance was the cause of the dis-
V
similitude. Pythagoras, say they, came from Ionia and
Samos, during the tyranny of Polycrates, Italy being
then in a flourishing condition; and the first men in the
city became his associates. But, to the more elderly
of ihese, and who were not at leisure [for philosophy],
in consequence of being occupied by political affairs,
the discourse of Pythaaoras was not accompanied with
a reasoning procesi, beiause it would have bken difficult
for them &apprehend his meaning through disciplines
and demonstrations; and he conceived they would
nevertheless be benifited by knowing what ought to
be done, though they were destitute of the knowledge
of the whv: iust as those who are under the care of
J
physicians, o6tain their health, though they do not
hear the reason of every thing which is t o be done t o
them. But with the younger part of his associates,
and who were able both t o act and learn,-with these
he conversed through demonstration and disciplines.
These therefore are the assertions of the Mathematici,
but the former, of the Acusmatici. With respect to
Hippasus howeier especially, they assert that h e was
one of the Pythagoreans, but that in consequence of
having divulged and described the method of forming
a sphere from twelve pentagons,' he perished in the
The same thing is said by the Pythagoreans to have befallen the
person who first divulged the theory of incommensurable quantities.
See the first scholium on the 10th book of Euclid's Elements, in
Cornmandine's edition, fol. I 572.
sea, as an impious person, but obtained the renown of
having made the discovery. I n reality, however, this
as well as every thing else pertaining t o geometry, was
the invention of that man; for thus without mention-
ing his name, they denominate Pythagoras. But the
Pythagoreans say, that geometry was d i d g e d from the
following circumstance: A certain Pythagorean hap-
pened t o lose the wealth which he possessed; and in
;onsequence of this misfortune, he ba s permitted t o
enrich himself from geometry. But geometry was
called by Pythagoras Historia. And thus much con-
cerning theddiff&-ence of each mode of philosophizing,
and the classes of the auditors of Pythagoras. For
those who heard him either within or Githout the veil,
and those who heard him accompanied with seeing, or
without seeing him, and who are divided into interior
and exterior auditors, were no other than these. And
it is requisite to arrange under these, the political,
economic and legislative Pythagoreans.
CHAP. XIX.
UNIVERSALLY, however, it deserves t o be known, that
Pythagoras discovered many paths of erudition, and
that he delivered an avpro~ri at e vortion of wisdom
I I A
conformable t o the proper nature a'nd power of each;
of which the following is the greatest argument. When
Abaris, the Scythia< came-from t h e Hyperboreans,
unskilled and ininitiated in the Grecian Ikarning, and
was then of an advanced age, Pythagoras did not intro-
duce him t o erudition through vaGous theorems, but
instead of silence, auscultation for so long a time, and
other trials, he immediately considered him adapted t o
be an auditor of his dogmas, and instructed him in the
shortest way in his treaiise On Nature, and in another
treatise On the Gods. For Abaris came from the Hyper-
boreans, being a priest of the Apollo who is there
worshipped, an elderly man, and most wise in sacred
concerns; but a t that time he was returning from
Grccce to his own country, in order that he might
consecrate t o the God in his temple among the Hyper-
borean~, the gold which he had collected. Passing
therefoie through Italy, and seeing Pythapras, h;
especiallv assimilated him t o the God of whom he was
t i e priest. And believing that he was no other than
the God himself, and that no man resembled him, but
that he was t r d y Apollo, both from the veneiable
indications which he saw about him, and from those
which the priest had known before, he gave Pythagoras
a dart which he took with him when he left the temple,
-
as a thing that would be useful t o him in the difficul-
ties that would befal him in so lone a iournev. For he
was carried by it, in passing throuch iAaccessible places,
such as rivers, lakes, marshes, mountains, and the like,
and performed through it, as it is said, lustrations, and
expdled pestilence a*d w'inds from the cities that re-
quested him t o liberate them from these evils. We are
informed, therefore, that Lacedsmon, after having
been purified by him, was no longer infested with
though prior t o this it had frequently fallen
into this evil, through the baneful nature of the place
in which it was built, the mountains of Taygetus
producing a suffocating heat, by being situatedq;bbove
the city, in the same manner as Cnossus in Crete. And
many other similar particulars are related of the power
of Abaris. Pythagoras, however, receiving the dart,
and neither be-inn astonished at the novelty gf the thing,
- -
nor asking the Gason why it was given ;o him, but as
if he was in reality a God himself, taking Abaris aside,
he showed him his golden thigh, as an indication that
he was not [wholly] deceived [in the opinion he had
formed of him;l and having enumerated t o him the
several particula~s that were deposited in the temple,
he gave him sufficient reason t o believe that he had
not badly conjectured [in assimilating him t o Apollo].
Pythagoras also added, that he came [into the regions
of mortality] for the purpose of remedying and bene-
fiting the condition of mankind, and that on this
account he had assumed a human form, lest men being
disturbed by the novelty of his transcendency, should
avoid the disci~line which he ~ossessed. He likewise
exhorted ~bar i ' s t o remain in t hat place, and to unite
with him in correcting [the live; and manners] of
those with whom they might meet; but to share the
gold which he had collected, in common with his
associates, who were led by reason to confirm by their
deeds the dogma, that the possessions of friends arc
common. Thus, therefore, Pythagoras unfolded t o
Abaris, who remained with him, as we have iust now
said, physiology and theology in a compendious way;
and instead of divination by the entrails of beasts, he
delivered t o him the art df prognosticating through
numbers, conceiving that this was purer, more divine,
and more adapted to the celestial n;mbe;s of the ~ o d s .
He deliveredAalso t o Abaris other studies which were
adapted to him. That we may return, however, t o
that for the sake of which the present treatise was
written, Pythagoras endeavoured t o correct and amend
different persons, according to the nature and power
of each. All such particulars therefore as these, have
neither been transmitted to the knowledge of men, nor
is it easy t o narrate all that has been transmitted t o
us concerning him.
CHAP. XX.
WE shall however exhibit a few specimens, and those
the most celebrated, of the Pythagoric discipline, and
also the monuments of the studies in which those
men engaged. In the first place, therefore, Pythagoras
in making trial [of the aptitude of those that came t o
him] considered whether they could echemuthein, i.e.
whether they were able t o refrain from speaking (for
this was the word which he used), and surveyed whether
they could conceal in silence and preserve what they
had learnt and heard. I n the next place, he observed
whether they were modest. For h; was much more
anxious that they should be silent than that they should
speak. He likebise directed his attention io everv
&her particular; such as whether they were astonisheh
by th; energies of any immoderate passion or desire.
Nor did he in a superficial manner consider how thev
were affected with respect to anger or desire, or whethe;
they were contentious or ambiSious, or how they were
disposed with reference t o friendship or strife. And if
on *his surveying all these articul&s accurately, they
K
1 a peared to him to be en ued with worthy manners,
t en he directed his attention to their facility in
learning and their memory. And in the first $ace,
indeed he considered whether they were able t o follow
what was said, with rapidity and perspicuity; but in
the next place, whether a certain love and temperance
attended them towards the disci lines which they were
K taught. For he surveyed how t ev were naturallv dis-
posgd with respect to' gentleness. ' But he called this
;atartysis, i.e. degance of manner$. And he considered
ferocity as hostile to such a mode of education. For
irnpudknce, shamelessness, intemperance, slothfulness,
slowness in learning, unrestrained licentiousness, dis-
grace, and the like, are the attendants on savage
manners; but the contraries on gentleness and mild-
ness. He considered these things, therefore, in making
trial of those that came t o him, and in these he exer-
cised the learners. And those that were adapted to
receive the goods of the wisdom he possessed,a he ad-
mitted t o be his disciples, and thus endeavoured to
elevate them t o scientcfic knowledge.
ceived that any one of them was unadapted, But he if expe he To ed
him as one of another tribe, and a stranger.
I n the next lace, I shall speak of the studies which
K he delivered t rough the whole of the day t o his
associates. For those who committed themselves t o
the guidance of his doctrine, acted in the following
-
manner: they performed their morning walks alone;
and in places in which there happened to be an ap-
propriate solitude and quiet, and where there were
I I
temples and groves, and bt hi r things adapted t o give
delight. For they thought it was not proper t o con-
verse with any one, till they had rendered their own
soul sedate, and had co-harmonised the reasoning
power. For they apprehended it to be a thing of
turbulent nature to mingle in a crowd as soon as thev
rose from bed. On thiLaccount all the pythagorea&
always selected for themselves the most sacred places.
But Hfter their morning walk they associated with each
other, and especially in temples, or if this was not
possible, in places that resembled them. This time,
likewise, they employed in the discussion of doctrines
and disciplines, and in the correction of their manners.
CHAP. XXI.
AFTER an association of this kind, they turned their
attention to the health of the body. &lost of them.
however, used unction and the course; but a less
number employed themselves in wrestling in gardens
and groves; others in leaping with leaden weights in
their hands, or in pantomime gesticulations, with a
view t o the strength of the body, studiously selecting
for this purpose opposite exercises. Their dinner con-
sisted of bread and honey or the honey-comb; but
they did not drink wine during the day. They also
employed the time after dinner in the political economy
pertaining t o strangers and guests, conformably t o the
mandate of the laws. For they wished t o transact all
business of this kind in the hours after dinner. But
when it was evening they again betook themselves t o
walking; yet not singly as in the morning walk, but
in parties of two or three, calling t o mind as they
walked, the disciplines they had learnt, and exercising
themselves in beautiful studies. After thev had walked,
they made use of the bath; and having washed them-
selves, they assembled in the place where they eat
together, and which contained no more than ten who
met for this purpose. These, however, being collected
together, libations and sacrifices were performed with
fumigations and frankincense. After this they went t o
supper, which they finished before the setting of the
sun. But they made use of wine and maize, and bread,
and every kind of food that is eaten with bread, and
likewise raw and boiled herbs. The flesh also of such
animals was placed before them as it was lawful t o
immolate: but they rarely fed on fish : for this nutri-
ment was not, for certain causes, useful t o them. In
a similar manner also they were of opinion, that t he
animal which is not natukally noxious t o the human
race, should neither be injuied nor slain. But after
this supper libations were "performed, and these were
succeeded by readings. It was the custom however
with them for the youngest t o read, and the eldest
ordered what was t o be read, and after what manner.
But when they were about t o depart, the cup-bearer
poured out a libation for them; and the libation being
performed, the eldest announced to them the following
precepts : That a mild and fruitful plant should neither
be injured nor corrupted, nor in a similar manner, any
animal which is not noxious t o t he human race. And
farther still, that it is necessary t o speak piously and
form proper conceptions of the divine, demoniacal,
and heroic genera; and in a similar manner, of parents
and benefactors. That it is proper likewise t o give
assistance t o law, and t o be hostile to illegality. But
these things being said, each departed t o his own place
of abode. They also wore a white and pure garment.
And in a similar manner they lay on pure and white
beds, the coverlets of which were made of thread;
for they did not use woollen coverlets. With respect
t o hunting they did not approve of it, and therefore
did not employ themselves in an exercise of this kind.
Such therefore were the precepts which were dailv
delivered t o the disciples i f ~PyIha~oras, with respe&
t o nutriment and their mode of living.
CHAP. XXII.
ANOTHER mode also of erudition is transmitted t o us.
which was effected through Pythagoric precepts, and
sentences which extended t o human life and human
opinion ; a few of which out of many I shall narrate.
One of these therefore contains an exhortation to re-
move contention and strife from true friendship, and
especially from all friendship, if possible. But if this
is not possible, at least t o expel it from paternal friend-
ship, and universally from that which subsists with
elders and benefactors. For t o contend pervicaciously
with such as these, anger or some other similar passion
intervening, is not to ireserve, [but destroy] the exist-
ing friendship. But they say it is necessary that the
smallest lacerations and ulcerations should take place
in friendships. And that this will be effected, if bot h
the friends know how t o yield and subdue their anger,
and especially the younger of the two, and who belongs
to some one of the above-mentioned orders. They
likewise thought i t necessary that the corrections and
admonitions Ghich they cafled psdartases, and which
the elder employed towards t6e younger, should be
made with much suavity of manners and great caution;
and also that much soliiitude and appro$iation should
be exhibited in admonitions. For thus the admonition
will become decorous and beneficial. They likewise
say that faith should never be separated from friend-
ship, neither seriously nor in jest.A For it is no longer
easy for the existing friendship t o remain in a
sane condition, when falsehood once insinuates itself
into the mannirs of those who assert themselves t o be
friends. And again they say, that friendship is not to
be rejected on account of misfortune, or any other
imbecility which happens t o human life; but that the
only laudable rejection of a friend and of friendshi ,
P is that which takes place through great and incurab e
vice. Such therefore was the form of correction with
the Pythagoreans through sentences, and which ex-
tended t o all the virtues, and t o the whole of life.
CHAP. XXIII.
THE mode however of teaching through symbols,
was considered by Pythagoras as most necessary. For
this form of erudition was cultivated by nearly all the
Greeks. as being most ancient. ~ u t . it was trans-
cendently honorid by the Egyptians, and adopted by
them in the most diversified manner. Conformably t o
this, therefore, it will be found, that great atteniion
was paid to it by Pythagoras, if any one-clearly unfolds
the significations and arcane conceptions of the Pvtha-
goric ;ymbols, and thus develops 'the great rec6tude
and truth they contain, and liberates them from their
enigmatic form. For they are adapted according to
a simple and uniform doctrine, t o the great geniuses of
these philosophers, and deify in a manner which sur-
passes human conception. For those who came from
ihis school, and especially the most ancient Pytha-
goreans, and also those young men who were the dis-
ciples of Pythagoras when he was an old man, viz.
Philolaus and Eurytus, Charondas and Zaleucus, and
Brysson, the elder Archytas also, and Aristzus, Lysis
and Empedocles, Zanolxis and Epimenides. Milo and
~ e u c i ~ f i s , ~l c mz o n , Hippasus A d ~h ~ma r i d a s , and
all of that age, consisting of a multitude of learned men,
-
.and who were above measure excellent,-all these
adopted this mode of teaching, in their discourses with
each other, and in their commentaries and annotations.
Their writings also, and all the books which they pub-
lished, most of which have been preserved even t o our
time,' were not composed by them in a popular and
vulgar diction, and in a manner usual with all other
writers, so as t o be immediately understood, but in
such a way as not t o be easily apprehended by those
that read them. For they adopted that taciturnity
which was instituted by Pythagoras as a law, in con-
cealing after an arcane mode, divine mysteries from the
uninitiated, and obscuring their writings and con-
ferences with each other. Hence he who selecting
these symbols does not unfold their meaning by an
apposite exposition, will cause those who may happen
t o meet with them t o consider them as ridiculous and
inane, and as full of nugacity and garrulity. When,
however, they are unfolded in a way conformable t o
these symbols, and become obvious and clear even t o
the miltitude; instead of being obscure and dark, then
they will be found to be analogous t o prophetic sayings,
and t o the oracles of the Pythian Apollo. They will
then also exhibit an admirable meanhg, and wili pro-
duce a divine afflatus in those who unite intellect ki t h
Iamblichus, in this list of Pythagoreans, must not be supposed
to enumerate those only who were contemporary with Pythagoras :
since, if he did, he contradicts what he says of Philolaus in Chap. 3 I,
viz. " that he was many ages posterior to Pythagoras ; " but those in
general who came from the school of Pythagoras, and were his most
celebrated disciples.
a From this passage i t is evident that Iamblichus had many sources
of information, which are unknown to modern critics ; and this cir-
cumstance alone ought to check their pedagogical impertinence.
57
erudition. Nor will it be improper t o mention a few
of them, in order that this mode of discipline may
become more perspicuous: Enter not into a temple
negligently, nor in short adore carelessly, not even
though you should stand at the very doors themselves.
Sacrifice and adore unshod. Declining from the public
ways, walk in unfrequented paths. Speak not about
Pythagoric concerns without light. And such are the
outlines of the mode adopted by Pythagoras of teach-
ing through symbols.
CHAP. XXIV.
SINCE, however, nutriment greatly contributes t o
the best discipline, when it is properly used, and in an
orderly manner, let us consider what Pythagoras also
instituted as a law about this. Universally, therefore,
he rejected all such food as is flatulent, and the cause
of but he approved of the nutriment
contrary to this, and ordered i t t o be used, viz. such
food as composes and compresses the habit of the body.
Hence, likewise, he thought that millet was a plant
adapted t o nutrition. But he altogether rejected such
food as is foreign to the Gods; because it withdraws
us from familiarity with the Gods. Again, according
t o another mode also, he ordered his disciples t o abstain
from such food as is reckoned sacred, as being worthy
of honor, and not t o be appropriated to common and
human utility. He likewise exhorted them to abstain
d
from such things as are an impediment t o prophesy,
or t o the purity and chastity of the soul, or t o the habit
of tempe;ance; or of virtie. And lashy, he rejected
all such things as are adverse t o sanctity, and which
obscure and disturb the other purities of the soul, and
the phantasms which occur in sleep. These things there-
fore he instituted as laws in common about nutriment.
Separately, however, he forbade the most contem-
plative of philosophers, and who have arrived a t the
summit of philosophic attainments, the use of super-
fluous and unjust food, and ordered them never t o eat
any thing animated, nor in short, t o drink wine, nor
to sacrifice animals to the Gods, nor by any means t o
injure animals, but t o preserve most solicitously justice
towards them. And he himself lived after this manner,
abstaining from animal food, and adoring altars undefiled
with blood. He was likewise careful in preventing
others from destroying animals that are of a kindred
nature with us, and rather corrected and instructed
savage animals through words and deeds, than injured
them through punishment. And farther still, he also
enjoined those politicians that were legislators to ab-
stain from animals. For as they wished t o act in the
highest degree justly, it is c&tainly necessary that
they should not injure any kindred animal. Since,
how could thev persuade others t o act justly, if they
themselves weie detected in indulging an insatiable
- -
avidity by partaking of animals that are allied t o us ?
For through the communion of life and the same ele-
ments, and the mixture subsisting from these, they are
as it were conioined t o us by a Gaternal alliance.. He
permitted, hokever, others &hose life was not entirely
purified, sacred and philosophic, t o eat of certain
animals; and for these he appointed a definite time of
abstinence. These therefo;;, he ordered not t o eat
the heart, nor the brain; and from the eating of these
he entirely prohibited all the Pythagoreans. For these
arts are of a ruling nature, and are as it were certain
Padders and seats of wisdom and life. But other 1
things were considered by him as sacred on account of
the nature of a divine reason. Thus he exhorted his
disciples t o abstain from mallows, because this plant
is the first messenger and signal of the sympathy of
For avra here I read, conformably to the version of Obrechtus,
aUa.
celestial with terrestrial natures. Thus, too, he ordered
them t o abstain from the fish meladurui; for it is
sacred t o the terrestrial Gods. And also not t o receive
the fish erythinus, through other such like causes. He
likewise exhorted them t o abstain from beans. on
account of many sacred and physical causes, and' also
such causes as pertain t o the soul. And he established
as laws other' precepts similar t o these, beginning
through nutriment t o lead men t o virtue.
CHAP: XXV.
PYTHACORAS was likewise of opinion that music con-
tributed greatly t o health, if i; was used in an appro-
priate manner. For he was accustomed t o employ a
purification of this kind, but not in a careless way.
And he called the medicine which is obtained through
music by the name of purification. But he em lo$d
such a melody as this about the vernal season. %or he
placed in t hi middle a certain person who played on
the lyre, and seated in a circle round him those who
weresable t o sing. And thus, when the person in the
centre struck the lyre, those that surrounded him
sung certain paeans, through which they were seen t o
be delighted, and t o become elegant and orderly in
their manners. But a t another time they used music
in the place of medicine. And there- are certain
melodie< devised as remedies against the passions of
the soul, and also against des ondency and lamentation,'
B which Pythagoras invente as things that afford the
greatest assistance in these maladies. And again, he
employed other melodies against rage and anger, and
For &j ypvs here, I read 68vppovc; as I do not see what morsus
has to do with this place. Obrechtus has in his version " pectorisque
morsus ; " but I have no doubt l amt at i ons is the proper word,
which aptly associates with despondency.
against every aberration of the soul. There is also
another kind of modulation invented as a remedy
against desires. He likewise used dancing; but em-
ployed the lyre as an instrument for this purpose.
For he conceived that the pipe was calculated t o excite
insolence, was a theatrical instrument, and had by no
means a liberal sound.1 Select verses also of Homer
and Hesiod were used by him, for the purpose of
correcting the soul. Among the deeds of Pythagoras
likewise, it is said, that once through the spondaic song
of a piper, he extinguished the rage of a Tauromenian
lad, who had been feasting by night, and intended
t o burn the vestibule of his mistress, in consequence of
seeing her coming from the house of his rival. For the
lad was inflamed and excited [to this rash attempt]
by a Phrygian song; which however Pythagoras most
rapidly suppressed. But Pythagoras, as he was astron-
omizing, happened t o meet with the Phrygian piper
at an unseasonable time of night, and persuaded him
t o change his Phrygian for a spondaic song; through
which the fury of the lad being immediately repressed,
he returned home in an orderly manner, though a
little before this, he could not be in the least restrained,
nor would in short, bear any admonition; and even
stupidly insulted Pythagoras when he met him. When
a certain youth also rushed with a drawn sword on
Anchitus, the host of Em edocles, because, being a
judge, he had publicly con f emned his father t o death,
and would have slain him as a homicide, Empedocles
" Well-instituted polities," (says Proclus in MS. Comment. in
Alcibiad. prior.) " are averse to the art of playing on wind-instruments ;
and therefore neither does Plato admit it. The cause of this is the
variety of this instrument, the pipe, which shows that the art which
uses i t should be avoided. For instruments called Panarmonia, and
those consisting of many strings, are imitations of pipes. For every
hole of the pipe emits, as they say, three sounds at least ; but if the
cavity above the holes be opened, then each hole will emit more than
threi sounds."
-
changed the intention of the youth, by singing t o his
lyre that verse of Homer,
Nepenthe, without gall, o'er every ill
Oblivion spreads ; - l
and thus snatched his host Anchitus from death, and
the youth from the crime of homicide. It is also
related that the youth from that time became the
most celebrated of the disciples of Pythagoras. Farther
still, the whole Pythagoric school produced by certain
appropriate songs, what they called exartysis or adapta-
tion, synarmoge or elegance of manners, and epaphe or
contact, usefully conductihg the dispositions of the
soul t o passions contrary t o those which it before
L
possessed. For when they went to bed they purified
the reasoning power from the perturbations and noises
to which it Ld been exposed d;ring the day, by certain
odes and peculiar songs; and by this-means procured for
themselves tranauil sleep, and few and good dreams.
But when they 'rose from bed, they a gi n liberated
themselves from the torpor and heaviness of sleep, by
songs of another kind. Sometimes, also, by musical
sounds alone. unaccompanied with words; they healed
the passions df the soul and certain diseases; enchantinn,
as they say, in reality. And it is probable that fro;
hence this name epode, i.e. enchantment, came t o be
generally used. Aiter this manner, therefore, Pytha-
goras through music produced the most beneficial
correction of human manners and lives.
CHAP. XXVI.
SINCE, however, we are narrating the wisdom em-
ployed by Pythagoras in instructing his disciples, it will
not be unappropriate t o relate that which is proximate
Odyss. lib. 4.
in a following order t o this, viz. how he invented the
harmonic science, and harmonic ratios. But for this
purpose we must begin a little higher. Intently con-
sidering once, and reasoning with himself, whether it
would be possible t o devise a certain instrumental
assistance t o the hearing, which should be firm and un-
erring, such as the sight obtains through the compass
and the rule, or, by Jupiter, through a dioptric instru-
ment; or such as the touch obtains through the
V
balance, or the contrivance of measures;-thus con-
sidering, as he was walking near a brazier's sho , he
heard from a certain divine casualty the hammers [eat-
ing out a piece of iron on an anvil, and producing
sounds that accorded with each other, one combination
only excepted. But he recognized ii those sounds, the
diapason, the diapente, and the diatessaron, harmony.
He saw, however, that the sound which was between
the diatessaron and the diapente was itself by itself
dissonant, yet, nevertheless, gave completion to that
which was the greater sound among them. Being
delighted, therefore, t o find that the thing which he
was anxious t o discover had succeeded to his wishes by
divine assistance, he went into the brazier's shop, and
found by various experiments, that the difference of
sound arose from the magnitude of the hammers, but
not from the force of the strokes, nor from the figure
of the hammers, nor from the transposition of the iron
which was beaten. When, therefore, he had accurately
examined the weights and the equal counterpoise of the
hammers, he returned home, and fixed one stake
diagonally to the walls, lest if there were many, a
certain difference should arise from this circumstance,
or in short, lest the peculiar nature of each of the
stakes should cause a suspicion of mutation. After-
wards, from this stake he suspended four chords con-
sisting of the same materials, and of the same magnitude
and thickness, and likewise e ually twisted. To the
extremity of each chord also%e tied a weight. And
when he had so contrived, that the chords were per-
fectly equal t o each other in length, he afterwards
alternately struck two chords at once, and found the
beforementioned symphonies, viz. a different symphony
in a different combination. For he discovered that the
chord which was stretched by the greatest weight, pro-
duced, when compared with that which was stretched
by the smallest, *the symphony diapason. But the
former of these weights was twelve pounds, and the
latter six. And, therefore, being in duplk ratio, it
exhibited the consonance diapason; which the weights
themselves rendered appareit. But again, he f&nd
that the chord from which the greatest weight was
suspended compared with that from which t h e weight
next t o the smallest depended. and which weight was
u
eight pounds, produced ;he symphony diapente. Hence
he discovered that this symphony is in a sesquialter ratio,
in which ratio also the weights were t o each other. And
he found that the chord which was stretched by the
greatest weight, produced, when compared with that
which was next to it in weight, and was nine pounds,
the symphony diatessaron, analogously t o the weights.
This ratio, therefore, he discovered t o be sesquitertian;
but that of the chord from which a weight of nine
pounds was suspended, t o the chord which had the
imallest weight [or six pounds,] t o be sesquialter. For
9 is t o 6 in a sesquialter ratio. I n like manner, the
chord next to that from which the smallest weight
depended, was t o that which had the smallest weight,
in a sesquitertian ratio, [for it was the ratio of 8 t o 6,]
but t o the chord which had the greatest weight, in a
sesquialter ratio [for such is the ratio of I + to 81.
Hence, that which is between the diapente and the
diatessaron, and by which the diapente exceeds the
diatessaron, is proved t o be in an epogdoan ratio, or
that of 9 t o 8. But either way i t may be proved that
the diapason is a system consisting of the diapente in
conjunction with the diatessaron, just as the duple ratio
consists of the sesquialter and sesquitertian, as for
instance, I 2, 8, and 6; or conversely, of the diatessaron
and the diapente, as in the duple ratio of the ses-
quitertian and sesquialter ratios, as for instance 12, 9,
and 6. After this manner, therefore, and in this order,
having conformed both his hand and his hearing t o th;
suspended weights, and having established according to
them the ratio of the habitudes, he transferred by an
easy artifice the common suspension of the chords from
th; diagonal stake t o the limen of the instrument,
which h> called chordotonon. But he produced by the
aid of pegs a tension of the chords analogous t o that
effected by the weights.
Employing this method, therefore, as a basis, and as
i t were an infallible rule, he afterwards extended the
experiment t o various instruments; viz. to the pulsa-
tion of patellae or pans, t o pipes and reeds, t o mono-
chords, triangles, and the like. And in all these he
found an immutable concord with the ratio of numbers.
But he denominated the sound which participates of
the number 6 bypate: that which participates of the
number 8 and is sesquitertian, mese; that which parti-
cipates of the number 9, but is more acute by a tone
than mese, he called paramese, and epogdous; but that
which participates of the dodecad, nete. Having also
filled up the middle spaces with analogous sounds
according to the diatonic genus, he formed an octo-
chord from symphonious numbers, viz. from the
double, the sesquialter, the sesquitertian, and from the
difference of these, the epogdous. And thus he dis-
covered the [harmonic] progression, which tends by
a certain physical necessity from the most grave [i.e.
flat] t o the most acute sound, according t o this diatonic
genus. For from the diatonic, he rendered the chro-
matic and enharmonic genus perspicuous, as we shall
some time or other show when we treat of music. This
diatonic genus, however, appears t o have such physical
gradations and progressions as the following; viz. a
semitone, a tone, and then a tone; and this is the
diatessaron, being a system consisting of two tones, and
of what is called a semitone. Afterwards, another tone
being assumed, viz. the one which is intermediate, the
diapente is produced, which is a system consisting of
three tones and a semitone. In the next place t o this
is the system of a semitone, a tone, and a tone, forming
another diatessaron, i.e. another sesquitertian ratio.
So that in the more ancient heptachord indeed, all the
sounds, from the most grave, which are with respect
to each other fourths, produce every where with each
other the symphony diatessaron; the semitone receiv-
ing by transition, the first, middle, and third place,
according to the tetrachord. I n the Pythagoric octa-
chord, however, which by conjunction is a system of
the tetrachord and pentachord, but if disjoined is a
system of two tetrachords separated from each other,
(he progression is from the mbst grave sound. ~ e n c d
all the sounds that are by their distance from each
other fifths, produce with each other the symphony
diapente; the semitone successively proceeding into
four places, viz. the first, second, third, and fourth.
After this manner, therefore, it is said that music
was discovered by Pythagoras. And having reduced
it to a system, he delivered it to his disci les as
subservient to every thing that is most beautifufl
CHAP. XXVII.
MANY also of the political actions of his followers
are [deservedly] praised. For it is reported that the
Crotonians being once impelled t o make sumptuous
funerals and interments, some one of them said t o the
people, that he had heard Pythagoras when he was
1 Iamblichus derived what he has said in this chapter about music,
from Nicomachus.
5
discoursing about divine natures observe, that the
0l ympi anU~ods attended to the dispositions of those
that sacrificed, and not t o the multitude of the sacri-
fices; but that; on the contrary, the terrestrial Gods, as
being allotted the government of things less importint,
rejoiced in banquets and lamentations, and farther still,
in continual libations, in delicacies, and in celebrating
funerals with great expense. Whence, on account c$
his wish t o receive, Pluto is called Hades. He suffers,
therefore, those that slenderly honor him t o remain for
a longer time in the upper world; but he always draws
down some one of those who are disposed t o spend
profusely in funeral solemnities, in order that he may
obtain the honors which take place in commemoration
of the dead. I n consequenceAof this advice, the Cro-
tonians that heard it were of opinion, that if they
conducted themselves moderately in misfortunes, they
would preserve their own salvation; but that if they
were immoderate in their expenses, they would all of
them die prematurely. A certain person also having
been made an arbitrator in an affair in which there was
no witness, led each of the litigants t o a certain
monument, and said t o one of them, the man who is
buried in this monument was transcendently equitable;
in conse uence of which the other litigant prayed that
the deal man might obtain much good; but the
former said that the defunct was not at all better for
the prayers of his opponent. Pythagoras, therefore,
condemned what the former litigant said, but asserted
that he who praised the dead man for Gs worth, had
done that which would be of no small importance in
his claim to belief. At another time, in a cause of
great moment, he decided that one of the two who had
agreed to settle the affair by arbitration, should pay
four talents, but that the other should receive two.
Afterwards,he condemned the defendant t o pay three
talents; and thus he appeared to have given a talent
t o each of them. Two persons also had fraudulently
deposited a garment with a woman who belonged t o
a court of justice, and told her she was not t o give it
t o either of them unless both were present. Some time
after, for the purpose of circumvention, one of them
received the common deposit, and said that it was with
the consent of the other. But the other, who had not
been present [when the garment was returned], acted
the part of a sycophant, and related the compact that
was made at the beginning, to the magistrates. A
certain Pythagorean, however, taking up the affair
said, that the woman had acted conformably to the
compact, as both parties had been present. Two
other persons also appearid t o have a strong friend-
ship for each other, but had fallen into a silent sus-
icion through a flatterer of one of them, who told
Lm that his wife had been corru ted by the other.
X It so happened, however, that a Pyt agorean came into
a brazier's shop, where he who conceived himself t o be
injured, was showing t o the artist a sword which he.
had given him t o sharpen, and was indignant with him
because it was not sufficiently sharp. The Pythagorean,
therefore, suspecting that the sword was intended to
be used against him who was accused of adultery, said,
This sword is sharper than all things except calumny.
This being said, caused the man t o consider with him-
self [what it was he intended t o do], and not rashly to
sin against his friend who was within, and who had
been previously called [by him in order that he might
kill him]. A zone also that had golden ornaments
having fallen [at the feet] of a certain stranger in the
temple of Esculapius, and the laws forbidding any one
to take up that which had fallen on the ground, a
Pythagorean advised the stranger, who was indignant
a t this prohibition, to take away the golden ornaments
which had not fallen t o the ground, but t o leave the
zone, because this was on the ground.1 That
The first part of this sentence in the original is #&ov T ~ V ~ S
2~pcph~~ds os i v ' A o ~ h ~ r c l y Z&vlv ~pual ov dxouuav, pnd.in trapdating
circumstance, likewise, which by the ignorant is trans-
ferred t o other places. is saidw t o have happened in
Crotona, viz. t hi t duiing a public spectiEle, some
cranes flew over the theatre, and one of those who had
sailed into the port, said to the person who sat near
him, Do you see the witnesses ? which being heard by
a certain Pythagorean, he brought them into the court,
consisting of a thousand magistrates, where being
examined, it was found that they had thrown certain
boys into-the sea, and that they Lalled the cranes who
flew over the ship [at the time,] witnesses of the deed.
When likewise certain persons who had recently be-
come disciples of Pytha&ras were at variance wit& each
other, he who was the junior of the two came to the
other and said t o him, that there was no occasion t o
refer the affair to a third person, but that it rested
with them t o commit the& anger to oblivion.
He,
therefore, to whom these words were addressed, replied
- A
that he was very much pleased in other respects with
what had been'said, b i t that he was ashaked that,
being the elder, he had not first said the same thing
t o the other [who was the junior]. We might here
also narrate what is said of Phinthias and Damon,' of
Plato and Archytas, and likewise of Clinias and Proius.2
Omitting, however, these [for the present], we shall
mention what is related of Eubulus the Messenian,
who when he was sailing homeward, and was taken
captive by the Tyrrhenians, was recognized by Nau-
sithus a Tyrrhenian and also a Pythagorean, because
he was one of the disciples of Pythagoras, and was taken
it I have followed the version of Obrechtus, because it appeared to
me to convey the meaning of Iamblichus, though the translation is
certainly forced, and not such as the natural construction of the words
will admit. The translation of Arcerius is, " Cum hospes quidam in
zede Esculapii foeminam zonam auream habentem ejecisset ; " and this
is perfectly conformable to the natural construction of the words,
but then it is void of sense.
This history is copiously narrated in chap. 33.
See chap. 33.
by him from the pirates, and brought with great safety
t o Messena. When the Carthaginians, also, were about
t o send more than five thousand soldiers into a desert
island, Miltiades the Carthaginian, perceiving among
them the Argive Possiden (both of them being Pytha-
gorean~), went t o him, and not manifesting what he
intended t o do, advised him to return t o his native
country, with all possible celerity, and having placed
him in a ship that was then sailing near the shore,
supplied him with what was necessary for his voyage,
and thus saved the man from the dangers [to which he
was exposed]. In short, he who should relate all that
has taken place among the Pythagoreans in their
associations with each other, would by the length of
his narration exceed the proper quantity and the
occasion of his treatise.
I shall therefore rather pass on to show, that some
of the Pvthagoreans were political characters, and
adapted ; o govern.
For th& were guardians of the
laws, and ruled over certain Italian cities, unfolding
t o them, and counselling them t o adopt the most ex-
cellent measures, but abstaining from public revenues.
And though they were greatly calumniated, yet at the
same time the probity of the Pythagoreans, and the
wish of the cities themselves prevailed, so that they
were desired by them t o administer their political
concerns. But at this time the most beautiful of
polities appear to have existed in Italy and in Sicily.
For Charondas the Catanean, who appears t o have been
one of the best legislators, was a Pythagorean; as were
also the Locrians Zaleucus and Tisares, who were
celebrated for their legislation. Those also who
established the Rheginic polities, that polity which is
called Gymnasiarchic, and that which is denominated
from Theocles, are said t o have been Pythagoreans.
Phytius likewise, Theocles, Elecaon, and Aristocrates,
excelled among the Pythagoreans in their studies and
manners, which also the cities in those places adopted
at those times. In short, it is asserted that Pythagoras
was the inventor of the whole of political erudition,
when he said that nothing is pure among things that
have an existence; but that earth participates of fire,
fire of air, air of water, and water of spirit. And in
a similar manner the beautiful participates of the
deformed, the just of the unjust, and other things
conformably t o these. From this hypothesis, however,
the reasoning tends to either part. He also said, that
there are two motions of the body and the soul; the one
being irrational, but the other the effect of deliberate
choice. That three certain lines also constitute polities,
the extremes of which mutually touch each other, and
produce one right angle; so that one of them has the
nature of thesesquitertian; another that of the diapente;
and the third is a medium between the other two?
But when we consider by a reasoning process the
coincidences of the lines with each other, and also of
the places under these, we shall find that they represent
the best image of a polity. Plato has made the glory
of this invention his own; for he clearly says in his
Republic, "that the sesquitertian progeny conjoined
with the pentad produces two harmonies." V t is also
said, that Pythagoras cultivated the moderation of the
passions, and mediocrity, and that by the conjunction
of a certain precedaneous good, he rendered the life
of each of his disciples happy. And in short, it is said
that he discovered the choice of our good, and of the
works adapted to our nature. I t is likewise narrated
of him, that he withdrew the Crotonians from harlots,
and universally from an association with women that
were not affianced. For the wives of the Crotonians
came to Theano the wife of Brontinus, one of the
These lines are as the numbers 4, 3, 2.
For q to 3 is sesqui-
tertian, 3 to 2 is sesquialter, and z is an arithmetical medium between
4 and 3.
For an explanation of this assertion of Plato in the Republic, see
my Theoretic Arithmetic.
Pythagoreans, a woman of a wise and excellent soul,
(and who was the author of that beautiful and admir-
able saying, "that it is lawful for a woman t o sacrifice
on the very day in which she has risen from the embraces
of her husband.'' which some ascribe t o Theano the wife
of ~ythagoras)' the Crotonian wives came therefore t o
her, 'and kt r kat ed her to persuade Pythagoras to dis-
course t o them on the continence which was due from
them t o their husbands. This she promised t o do;
and Pythagoras having accordingly ma'de an oration to
the Crotonians, which had the desired effect, the in-
continence which then preyailed was entirely dkstroyed.
It is further related likewise, that when ambassadors
came t o the city of the ~rot oni ans from Sybaris, for
the purpose of demanding the exiles, Pythagoras behold-
ing one of the ambassadors, who with his own hand had
sign one of his friends, made him no answer. But when
the man interrogated him, and wished to converse with
him, Pythagoras said, that it was not lawful to discourse
with homicides. Whence also by certain ersons he
was thought t o be Apollo. All these partic J ars, there-
fore, and such as we have a little before mentioned
concerning the destruction of tyrants, and the libera-
tion of the cities of Italy and Sicily, and many other
circumstances, are indications of the benefits conferred
on mankind by Pythagoras in political concerns.
CHAP. XXVIII.
THAT which follows after this, we shall no longer
discuss generally, but direct our at tent ion particularlv
t o the Gorks rekltinn from the virtues of Pythaaora;.
And we shall begin h the first place from the ~ o d s ,
as it is usual to Jo, and indeavoir t o exhibit his piety;
and the admirable works which he performed. Let
this, therefore, be one specimen of 'his piety, which
also we have before mentioned, that he knew what
his soul was, and whence it came into the body, and
also its former lives, and that of these things he gave
most evident indications. After this also, let the
following be another specimen; that once passing over
the river Nessus with many of his associates, he spoke
to it, and the river in a distinct and clear voice, in the
hearing of all his followers, answered, Hail Pythagoras!
Farther still, nearly all historians of his life confidently
assert, that in one and the same day he was present at
Metapontum in Italy, and Tauromenium in Sicily, and
discoursed in common with his disciples in both places,
though these cities are separated from each other by
many stadia both by land and sea, and cannot be passed
through in a great number of days. The report, also,
is very much disseminated, that he showed his golden
thigh t o the Hyperborean Abaris, who said that he
resembled the Apollo among the Hyperboreafis, and of
whom Abaris was the priest; and that he did this in
order that Abaris might apprehend this to be true, and
that he was not deceived in his opinion. Ten thousand
other more divine and more admirable particulars like-
wise are uniformly and unanimously related of the man:
such as infallible predictions of earth uakes, rapid
expulsions of pestilence and violent win 1 s, instantan-
eous cessations of the effusion of hail, and a tranquilliza-
tion of the waves of rivers and seas, in order that his
disciples might easily pass over them. Of which things
also, Empedocles the Agrigentine, Epimenides the
Cretan, and Abaris the Hyperborean, receiving the
power of effecting, performed certain miracles of this
kind in many places. Their deeds, however, are
manifest. To which we may add, that Empedocles
was surnamed an expeller of winds; Epimenides, an
expiator; and Abaris, a walker on ai r; because being
carried on the dart which was given t o him by the
Hyperborean Apollo, he passed over rivers and seas and
inaccessible places, like one walking on the air. Certain
Dersons likewise are of ooinion. that Pvtha~oras did the
iame thing, when in t hi Sam; day h; disFoursed k t h
his disciples at Metapontum and Tauromenium. It is
also said that he oredicted there would be an earthauake
from th; water &a well which he had tasted: andt hat
a ship which was sailing with a prosperous wind, would
be merged in the sea. And let these. indeed. be the
indicatsns of his oietv.
1 6
Again, however, assuming a more elevated exordium,
I am desirous t o exhibit the principles of the worship
of the Gods, which Pythagoras and his followers estab-
lished; viz; that allg sucL. particulars as thev define
with ;espect to doing or n6t doing a thing, have for
the mark at which they aim. a consent with divinity.
This also is with t hek theSprinciple, [of piety] a i d
their whole life is arranged with a view t o follow God.
The language, too, of thGir philosophy is thii, that men
act ridiculously in exploring good from any other
source than the Gods; and that their conduct in this
respect resembles that of a man, who in a country
by a king should reverence one of the magis-
trates in the city, and neglect him who is the ruler of
all of them. For they wire of opinion that such was
the conduct of mankiid. For siice God is, and is the
Lord of all things, it is universally acknowledged that
good is to be requested of him. For all men impart
good t o those whom they love, and t o those with whom
they are delighted; but they give the contrary t o good,
to those t o whom they are contrarily disposed. It is
evident, therefore, that those things are t o be done,
in which God delights. It is, however, not easy for a
man to know what these are, unless he obtains this
knowledge from one who has heard God, or has heard
God himself, or procures it through divine art. Hence
also, the Pythagoreans were studious of divination.
or- this alone i s an interpretation of the benevolence
of the Gods. And in short, he will conceive an em-
ployment of this kind to bk worthy of regard, who
believes that there are Gods; but he who thinks that
either of these is folly, will also be of opinion that both
are foolish. Many of the mandates, however, of the
Pythagoreans were introduced from the mysteries; for
they did not conceive them t o be the productions of
arrogance, but to originate from a certain divinity.
And in a similar manner, all the Pythagoreans believe
such things as are mythologically related of Aristeas
the Proconesian, and Abaris the Hyperborean, and
other particulars of a like nature. For they consider
every thing of this kind t o be credible; and of many
[such] things they make trial themselves. They also
frequently recollect such-like particulars as appear t o
be fabulous, as not disbelieving in any thing which
may be referred to divinity. A certain person there-
fore relates, that Eurytus said, that a shepherd feeding
his sheep near the tomb of Philolaus, heard some one
singing.& But the person t o whom ;his was related,
did not a t all disbelieve the narration, but asked what
kind of harmony it was? Both of 'them, however,
were ~ ~ t h a ~ o r e i f i s , and Eurytus was the disciple of
Philolaus. It is ' likewise said. that a certain Person
told Pythagoras, that he appeared to himself Lnce t o
converse with his father who was dead, and that he
asked Pythagoras what this indicated ? Pythagoras
replied, that it indicated nothing; but that he had
in reality conversed with his father. As therefore,
said he, -nothing is signified by my now discoursing
with you, so neither is any thing signified by your con-
versing with your father. Hence, in all particulars of
this kind, they did not think that they were stupid,
but those that disbelieved in them. For they did not
conceive that some things are possible t o the Gods,
but others impossible, as those fancy who reason
sophistically; but they believed that all things are
possible to the Gods. And this verv assertion is the
beginning of the verses, which they 'ascribe t o Linus,
and which are as follow:
All things may be the objects of our hope,
Since nothing hopeless any where is found:
All things with ease Divinity effects,
And nought can frustrate his almighty power.
But they thought that their opinions deserved t o be
believed, because he who first romulgated them, was
not any casual person, but a J od. For this was one
of their questions : What was Pythagoras ? For they
say that he was the Hyperborean Apollo; of which
this was an indication, that rising up in the Olympic
games, he showed his golden thigh; and also that he
received the Hyperborean Abaris as his guest, and was
presented by him with the dart on which he rode
through the air. But it is said that Abaris came from
the Hyperborean regions, in order that he might collect
gold for the temple, and that he predicted a pestilence.
He also dwelt in temples, and was never seen either to
eat or drink. It is likewise said, that rites which purify
from evil are performed by the Lacedaemonians, and
that on this account Lacedzmon was never infested
with pestilence. Pythagoras, therefore, caused this
Abaris t o acknowledge [that he was more than man,]
receiving from him a t the same time the golden dart,
without which it was not possible for him to find his
way. I n Metapontum alsb, certain persons praying
that they might obtain what a ship contained that was
then sailing Ynto port, pythagorab said t o them, You
will then have a dead body. In Sybaris, too, he caught
a deadly serpent and dismissed it. I n a similar manner
likewise in Tyrrhenia, he caught a small serpent, whose
bite was fatal. But in Crotona a white eagle, it is
-
said, suffered Pythagoras t o stroke it. A certain person
also wishing to hear him discourse, he said that he
could not, till some sign appeared. And after this a
white bear was seen in Cauconia; the death of which
he predicted t o one who was about t o tell him that
it was dead. He likewise reminded Myllias the Cro-
tonian that he had been Midas the son of Gordius.
And Myllias passed over t o the continent of Asia, in
order t o perform at the sepulchre [of Midas] those rites
which had been enjoined him by Pythagoras. It is
likewise said, that the person who bought his house,
and who dug up that which had been buried in it,
did not dare t o tell any one what he saw [on this
occasion]. But instead of suffering for this offence, he
was seized a t Crotona for sacrilege, and put t o death.
For he took away a golden beard which had fallen from
a statue. These things therefore, and others of the
like kind, are related by the Pythagoreans, in order t o
render their o~inions worthv of belief. And as these
are acknowledied t o be true: and it is impossible they
should have happened to one man, they consequently
think it is clear, that what is related of Pythagoras,
should be received as pertaining t o a being superior
to man, and not t o a mere man. This also is the mean-
ing of their enigmatical assertion, that man, bird, and
another third thing, are bipeds. For the third thing is
Pythagoras. Such, therefore, was Pythagoras on ac-
count of his piety, and such he was truly thought
t o be.
With respect to oaths, however, all the Pythagoreans
religiously observe them, being mindful of the Pytha-
goric precept,
First to th' immortal Gods thy homage pay,
As they by law are orderly dispos'd;
And reverence thy oath, but honor next
Th' illustrious heroes.
Hence a certain Pythagorean, being compelled by law
t o take an oath, yet in order that he might preserve
a Pythagoric dogma, though he would have sworn
religiously, chose instead of swearing to pay three
talents, this being the fine which he was condemned
to pay to the defendant. That'Pythagoras however
thought that nothing was from chance and fortune,
but that all events happened conformably t o divine
providence, and especially to good and pious men, is
confirmed by what is related by Androcydes in his
treatise on Pythagoric Symbols, of Thymaridas the
Tarentine, and a Pythagorean. For when through a
certain circumstance he was about t o sail from his own
country, and his friends who were present were em-
bracing him, and biddiag him farewell, some one said
t o him, when he had now ascended into the ship, May
such things happen t o you from the Gods, 0 Thy-
maridas, as are conformable t o your wishes! But he
replied, predict better things; *for I should rather wish
that such things may happen to me as are conformable
t o the will of the Gods. For he thought it was more
scientific and equitable, not t o resist or be indignant
with divine providence. If, therefore, any one wishes t o
learn what were the sources whence these men derived
so much piety, it must be said, that a perspicuous para-
digm of the P~thagoric theology according t o numbers,
is in a certain respect to be found in the writings of
Orpheus. Nor is*it t o be doubted, that ~~t h a g o r a s
receiving auxiliaries from Orpheus, composed his
treatise Concerning the Gods, which on this account
also he inscribed tKe Sacred Discourse, because i t con-
tains the flower of the most mystical place in Orpheus ;
whether this work was in reality written by Pythagoras,
as by most authors it is said t o have been, or as some of
the Pythagoric school who are both learned and worthy
of belief assert, was composed by Telauges; being
taken by him from the commentaries which were left
by pythagoras himself to his daughter Damo, the sister
of Telauges, and which i t is said after her death were
given t o Bitale the daughter of Damo, and to Telauges
the son of Pythagoras, and the husband of Bitale,
when he was of a mature age. For when Pythagoras
died, he was left very young with his mother Theano.
I n this Sacred Discourse also, or treatise concerning the
Gods (for it has both these inscriptions), who it was
that delivered t o Pythagoras what is there said con-
cerning the Gods, is rendered manifest. For it says:
" that ~ythuRoras-the son of Mnesarchus was instru&d
i n what erGins to the Goas, when he celebrated orgies
in the 2) bracian Libethra, being initiated i n them by
Aglaophemus; and that Orpheus the son of Calliope,
having learnt wisdom from his mother i n the mountain
Pangas, said, that the eternal essence of numbc7 is
the most providential principle of the universe, of heaven
and earth, and the intermediate nature; and farther
still, that i t is the root of the permanency of divine
natures, of Gods and demons." l From these things,
. -
therefore, it is evident that he learnt from the orp&
writers that the essence of the Gods is defined by
1 " The Pythagoreans," (says Syrianus in Aristot. Metaphys. lib. 13.)
" received from the theology of Orpheus, the principles of intelligible
and intellectual numbers, they assigned them an abundant progression,
and extended their dominion as far as to sensibles themselves. Hence
that proverb was peculiar to the Pythagoruns, that aZl things are
assimilated to number. Pythagoras, therefore, in THE SACRED DIS-
COURSE, clearly says, that " number is the ruler of forms and ideas,
and is the cause of Gods and daemons." He also supposes, that '' to
the most ancient and artificially ruling deity, number is the canon,
the artificial reason, the intellect also, and the most undeviating
balance of the composition and generation of all things." ah& pi v
f l 3 - t
1 1 ~8 i i ~dpa s , i v T+ iipy Aoyo Giapprjsvv pop+&v Ka r ihrwv ~ p d wo p a
r i ipi8&v i Ar yw i i vai , ra!'&ov ~d 8aip6vwv a;rtov. xal rQ rrphr-
p v r a r o r d r par i ur nbvr r rr' xvq Bi y Kavova, uai Aoyov r cxvi dv, vow
t
r e ~cu 07aOp&v d~A' i vi ur ar av T ~ V ipi6&v ~ C L K C ( T W ~ ~ Q L O S ccd
yc~ducoo rGv T ~ WWV . Syrianus adds, " But Philolaus declared that
number is the governing and self-begotten bond of the eternal
permanency of mundane natures." aA6Aavs SC, ri j s TGV r oupt ~&v
dicaviac 8iapdvr)s T$v K P Q T ~ ~ C ~ ~ U ~ V ~ar' a;toywrj uuo)ov zivai
&R+~VQTO rdv bpi8&v. " And Hippasus, and all those who were
destined to a quinquennial silence, called number the judicial instru-
ment of the maker of the universe, and the first paradigm of mundane
fabrication." di 8c ' I mrauov d~ovupar ucoi iiwov ~ ~ r r i k d v rw-
FPy6~ 6i ov GW&0v; K d l r a &S~ t y p ~ WPWT ~ Y ~0~pOWoci ' a~. " But.
how is it possible they could have spoken thus sublimely of number,
unless they had considered it as possessing an essence separate from
sensibles, and a transcendency fabricative, and at the same time
paradigmatic ? "
number. Through the same numbers also, he produced
an admirable fore-knowledge and worship of the Gods,
both which are especially most allied to numbers. This,
however, may be known from hence; for it is necessary
t o adduce a certain fact, in order t o procure belief of
what is said. When Abaris performed sacred rites in
his accustomed manner, he procured a fore-knowledge
of future events, which is studiously cultivated by all
the Barbarians, through sacrificing animals, and especi-
ally birds; for they are of opinion that the viscera of
such animals are subservient to a more accurate in-
spection. Pythagoras, therefore, not wishing to sup-
press his ardent pursuit of truth, but t o impart it t o
him through a certain safer way, and without blood
and slaughter, and also because he thought that a cock
was sacred t o the sun, furnished him with a consummate
knowledge of all truth,- as i t is said, through the arith-
metical science. He also obtained from piety, faith con-
cerning the Gods. For Pythagoras always proclaimed,
that nothing admirable pertaining t o the Gods or
divine dogmas should be disbelieved, because the Gods
are able t o accomplish all things. - And the divine
dogmas in which it is requisite t o believe, are those
wGch Pythagoras deliveied. Thus, therefore, the
Pythagoreans believed in, and assumed the things
about which they dogmatized, because they were not
the progeny of' fals; opinion. Hence ~ u r ~ t u s thee
Crotonian, the auditor of Philolaus said, that a shep-
herd feeding his sheep near the t omb of hil lo la is.
V
heard some one singiAg. But the person t o whom
this was related, did not at all disbelieve the narration,
but asked what- kind of harmony it was. pythagorai
himself, also, being asked by a certain person what
was indicated by seeming in sleep t o converse with his
father who was dead, answered that it indicated nothing.
For neither, said he, is any thing portended by your
speaking with me.
Pythagoras likewise used pure and white garments,
and in a similar manner white and pure coverlids; for
he did not use those that were made of wool. And
this custom he also delivered to his auditors. I n speak-
ing also of the natures superior t o man, he employed
honorable appellations, and words of good omen, and
upon every occasion made mention of and reverenced
the Gods; so that while at supper, he performed
libations t o the divinities, and ordered his disciples t o
celebrate with hymns the beings that are above us,
every day. He paid attention likewise t o rumors and
omens, prophecies, and lots, and in short, t o all casual
circumstances. Moreover, he sacrificed t o the Gods
with millet, cakes, honey-combs, and other fumigations.
But he did not sacrifice animals, nor did any one of the
contemplative philosophers. His other disciples, how-
ever, viz. the acusmatici, and the politici, were ordered
by him t o sacrifice animals, such as a cock, or a lamb,
or some other animal recently born, but not frequently.
At the same time they were prohibited from sacrificing
oxen. This also is an indication of the honor which
he paid t o the Gods, that he exhorted his disciples
never t o employ the names of the Gods uselessly in
swearing. On which account also Syllus, one of the
Pythagoreans in Crotona, paid a fine for not swearing,
though he could have sworn without violating truth.
An oath too such as the following is ascribed t o the
Pythagoreans, as they were unwilling, through rever-
ence, t o name Pythagoras; just as they very much
abstained from using the names of the Gods. But they
manifested the man through the invention of the
tetractys.
I swear by him who the tetractys found,
Whence all our wisdom springs, and which contains
Perennial Nature's fountain, cause, and root.
And, in short, it is said that Pythagoras was emulous
of the Orphic mode of writing and [piety of] disposi-
tion; and that he honored the Gods in a way similar
to that of Orpheus, placing them in images and in
brass, not conjoined to our forms, but t o divine
receptacles; because they comprehend and provide
for all things, and have a nature and morphe similar
t o the universe. He also promulgated purifications,
and initiations as they are called, which contain the
most accurate knowledge of the Gods. And farther
still, it is said, that he was the author of a compound
divike philosdphy and worship of the Gods; Laving
learnt indeed some things from the followers of
Orpheus, but others from the Egyptian priests; some
from the Chaldaans and Magi ; some from the mysteries
performed in Eleusis, in Imbrus, Samothracia, and
Delos; and some also from those which are performed
bv the Celtae. and in Iberia. It is also said that the
sicred ~i scokrse of Pythagoras is extant among the
Latins, and is read not to all, nor by all of them, but
by those who are promptly disposed t o learn what is
excellent, and applv themselves to nothing base. He
likewise ordained that men should make libations thrice,
and observed that Apollo delivered oracles from the
tripod, because the triad is the first number. That
sacrifices also should be made t o Venus on the sixth
day, because this number is the first that partakes of
every number, and, when divided in every possible
way, receives the power of the numbers subtracted and
of those that remain. But that it is necessary to sacrifice
l i.e. To spheres ; Iamblichus indicating by this, that Pythagoras
as well as Orpheus considered a spherical figure as the most appropriate
image of divinity. For the universe is spherical ; and, as Iamblichus
afterwards observes, the Gods have a nature and morphe similar to
the universe ; morphe, as we learn from Simplicius, pertaining to the
color, figure, and magnitude of superficies. Kiessling, having no con-
ception of this meaning, and supposing the whole passage to be corrupt,
has made nonsense of i t by his alterations. For according to his
version, Pythagoras, after the manner of Orpheus, worshipped the
Gods not bound to a human form, but to divine numbers. For instead
of T6pvpacrt he reads dptOporr. But divine numbers both according
to Orpheus and Pythagoras are the Gods themselves.
6
t o Hercules on the eighth day of the month from the
beginning, looking in l o doins t o his being born in the
seventh month. He further asserted, that it was
necessary that he who entered a temple should be
clothed with a pure garment, and in which no one
had slept; because sleep in the same manner as the
black and the brown, is an indication of sluggishness;
but purity is a sign of equality and justice in reasoning.
He also ordered, that if blood should be found in-
voluntarily spilt in a temple, a lustration should be
made, either in a golden vessel, or with the water of
the sea; the former of these [i.e. gold] being the most
beautiful of things, and a measure by which the price
of all things is regulated; but the latter as he conceived
being the progeny of a moist nature, and the nutri-
ment of the first and more common matter. He like-
wise said, that it was not proper to bring forth children
in a temple; because it is not holy that in a temple
the divine Dart of the soul should be bound to the
body. He 'further ordained, that on a festive day
neither the hair should be cut, nor the nails pared;
not thinking it fit that we should leave the serGice of
the Gods f& the purpose of increasing our good. He
also said, that a louse ought not to be killed in a temple ;
conceiving that a divine power ought not to participate
of any thing superfluous and corruptible. But that
the Gods should be honored with cedar, laurel, cypress,
oak, and myrtle; and that the body should not be
pur.ified with these, nor should any ofthem be divided
by the teeth. He likewise 'ordained, that what is
bbiled should not be roasted; signifying by this that
mildness is not in want of anger. But he would not
suffer the bodies of the dead toYbe burned: following in
this the Magi, being unwilling that a n i thing di;ine
should communicate with a mortal nature. He like-
wise thought it was holy for the dead to be carried out
in white garments; obscurely signifying by this the
simple and first nature, according t o number and the
principle of all things. But above all things he
ordained, that an oath should be taken religiously;
since that which is behind is long.' And he said, that
it is much more holy t o be injured than t o kill a man:
for iudernent is deposited in ~ a d e s . where the soul and
U
its essence, and th; first nature of ;hings are [properly]
estimated. Farther still, he ordered that sepulchral
chests [i.e. biers] should not be made of cypress,
because the sceptre of Jupiter was made of this wood,
or for some other mystic reason. He likewise ordained
that libations should be performed before the table of
Jupiter the Saviour, and of Hercules and the Dioscuri;
in so doing celebrating Jupiter as the presiding cause
and leader of this nutriment; Hercules, as the power
of nature; and the Dioscuri, as the symphonybf all
. L
things.
But he said, that libations should 'not be
offered with closed eyes. For he did not think it fit,
that any thing beautiful should be undertaken with
shame and bashfulness. Moreover, when it thundered,
he ordained that the earth should be touched. in
remembrance of the generation of things. BU; he
ordered that temples should be entered from places
on the right hand, and that they should be departed
out of from the left hand. For he asserted that the
right hand is the principle of what is called the odd
number, and is divine; but that the left hand is a
symbol of the even number, and of that which is dis-
sblved. And such is the mode which he is said to have
adopted in the cultivation of piety. But other partic-
ulars which we have omitted concerning it, may be
conjectured from what has been said. So that I shall
teak t o speak further on this subject.
i.e. Futurity is long ; Pythagoras signifying by this, that those
who do not take an oath religiously, will be punished in some future
period, if they are not at present.
CHAP. XXIX.
OF his wisdom, however, the commentaries written
by the Pythagoreans afford, in short, the greatest
indication; for they adhere t o truth in every thing,
and are more concise than all other compositions, so
that they savour of the ancient elegance of style, gnd
the conclusions are exquisitely deduced with divine
science. They are also replete ki t h the most condensed
conceptions, and are in other respects various and
diversified both in the form and the matter. At one
and the same time likewise, they are transcendently
excellent, and without any deficiency in the dictioi,
and are in an eminent degree full of clear and indubit-
able arguments, accompanied with scientific demon-
stration, and as i t is said, the most perfect syllogism;
as he will find to be the case, who, proceeding. in such
paths as are fit, does not hegli~eHly them.
This science, therefore, concerning intelligible natures
and the Gods, Pythagoras delivers in his writings from
a supernal origin. Afterwards, he teaches the whole
of hysics, ana unfolds compl~tely ethical philosophy
an J' logic. He likewise delivers all-various disci~lines.
and thve most excellent sciences. And in short'ther;
is nothing pertaining to human knowledge which is
not accurately discussed in these writings. If there-
fore it is acknowledged, that of thew [Pythagoric]
writings which are now in circulation, some were
written by Pythagoras himself, but others consist of
what he was heard to say, and on this account are
anonymous, but are referred t o Pythagoras as their
author;-if this be the case, it is evident that he was
abundantly skilled in all wisdom. But it is said that
he very mhch applied himself t o geometry among the
Egyptians. For with the Egyptians there are many
geometrical problems; since it is necessary that from
remote periods, and from the time of the Gods them-
selves,' bn account of the increments and decrements
of the Nile, those that were skilful should have measured
all the Egyptian land which they cultivated. Hence
also geometry derived its name. Neither did they
negligently investigate the theory of the celestial orbs,
in which likewise Pythagoras was skilled. Moreover,
all the theorems about lines appear t o have been derived
from thence. For it is said that what pertains t o
computation and numbers, was discovered i i Phoenicia.
For some persons refer the theorems about the celestial
bodies to h e Egyptians and Chaldeans in common. It
is said therefore, that Pythagoras having received and
increased all these [theories,] imparted the sciences,
and at the same time demonstrated them t o his auditors
with perspicuity and elegance. And he was the first
indeed that denominated philosophy, and said that it
was the desire, and as it were love of wisdom. But
he defined wisdom t o be the science of the truth which
is in beings. And he said that beings are immaterial
and eternal natures, and alone possess an efficacious
&
power, such as incorporeal essences. But that the rest
of things are only homonymously beings, and are so
denominated through the participation of real beings,
and such are corporeal and material forms, which are
generated and corrupted, and never truly are.
And
that wisdom is the science of things which are properly
beings, but not of such as are homonymously so. For
corporeal natures are neither the objects of science nor
admit of a stable knowledge, since they are infinite and
incomprehensible by science, and are as it were non-
A I
beings, when compared with universals, and are in-
capavb1e of being p;operly circumscribed b y definition.
It is impossible however t o conceive that there should
be scien'ce of things which are not naturally the objects
of science. Hence it is not probable that there will
l i.e. From the time in which the Gods are fabulously said to have
reigned in Egypt.
be a desire of science which has no subsistence, but
rather that desire will be extended t o things which are
properly beings, which exist with invariable perma-
nency, and are always consubsistent with a true appda-
tion. For it happens that the perception of things
which are homonymously beings, and which are never
truly what they seem t o be, follows the apprehension of
real beings; just as the knowledge of particulars follows
the science of universals. For he who knows universals
properly, says Archytas, will also have a clear percep-
tian of the nature of particulars. Hence things which
have an existence are Aot alone, nor only-begoGen, nor
simple, but they are seen t o be various -and multiform.
For some of them are intelligible and incorporeal
natures, and which are denominated beings; but
others i re corporeal and fall under the of
sense, and by participation communicate with that
. L
which has a real e x i s t e k Concerning all these there-
fore, he delivered the most appropriate sciences, and
left nothing [pertaining t o them] uninvestigated. He
likewis8 unfolded to men those sciences which are common
.I
[to all disciplines,] as for instance the demonstrative,
the definitive, and that which consists in dividing, as
may be known from the Pvthagoric commentaries. He
was also accustomed t o pdur forth sentences resembling
oracles t o his familiars in a symbolical manner, and
which in the greatest brevity of words contained the
most abundant and multifarious meaning, like the
Pythian Apollo through certain oracles, or like nature
herself through seeds small in bulk, the former exhibit-
ing conceptions, and the latter effects, innumerable in
multitude, and difficult to be understood. Of this
kind is the sentence, The beginning is the half of the
whole, which is an apothegm of Pythagoras himself.
But not only in the present hemistich, but in others
of a similar nature, the most divine Pythagoras has con-
cealed the sparks of truth; depositing as in a treasury
for those who are capable of being enkindled by them,
and with a certain brevity of diction, an extension of
theory most ample and difficult t o be comprehended,
as in the following hemistich:
All things accord in number:
which he very freauentlv uttered t o all his disci~les.
Or again, ~ri i ndrh$ is eiuality ; equality i s friend;hip.
Or in the word cosmoj, i.e. the world; or by Jupiter,
in the word philosophy, or in the so much celebrated
word tetractys. All these and many other inventions
of the like kind, were devised by Pythagoras for the
benefit and amendment of his associates; and they
were considered by those that understood them t o be
so venerable, and so much the progeny of divine in-
spiration, that the following was adopted as an oath
by those that dwelt together in the common auditory:
I swear by him who the tetractys found,
And to our race reveal'd; the cause and root,
And fount of ever-flowing Nature.
This therefore was the form of his wisdom which is
so admirable.
It is also said, that of the sciences which the Pytha-
goreans honored, music, medicine and divination, were
not among the least. But they were habitually silent
and prompt to hear, and he who was able t o hear [in
a proper manner] was praised by them. Of medicine,
however, they especially embraced the diaetetic species,
and in the exercise of this were most accurate. And in
the first place, indeed, they endeavoured t o learn the
indications of symmetry, of labor, food, and repose. In
the next place, with res ect t o the preparation of food,
they were nearly the Rrst who attempted t o employ
themselves in it, and t o define the mode in which
it should be performed. The Pythagoreans likewise
employed cataplasms more frequently than their pre-
decessors; but they in a less degree approved of
medicated ointments. These however they principally
used in the cure of ulcerations. But incisions and burn-
ings they admitted the least of all things. Some
diseases also they cured by incantations. Pythagoras,
however, thought that music greatly contributed t o
health, if it was used in a proper manner. The Pytha-
goreans likewise employed select sentences of Homer and
Hesiod for the amendment of souls. But they thought
it was necessary t o retain and vreserve in the memorv
things which <hey had learnt ;nd heard; and that &
was requisite t o be furnished with disciplines and
auditioAs, t o as great an extent as there was an ability
A
of learning and remembering.; the former of these
being the power by which kn&1edge is obtained, but
the latter, the power by which it is preserved. Hence,
thev ver; mi ch honbred the mimorv. abundantl;
exeicised and paid great attention t o i;.' I n learning
too, they did not dismiss what they were taught, till
they had firmly comprehended the first rudiments of
it; 'and they r kca~ed t o their memory what they had
daily heard; after the following manner: A pytha-
gorean never rose from his bed till he had first recollected
the transactions of the former dav; and he accomplished
this by endeavouring t o remember what he first said,
or heard, or ordered his domestics t o do when he was
rising, o; what was the second and third thing which
he said, heard, or commanded t o be done. And the
same method was adopted with respect t o the remainder
of the day. For aki n, he end&voured t o recollect
who was {he first wrson that he met. on leaving his
house, or who wasihe second; and with whom c e in
the first, or second, or third place discoursed. And
after the same manner he proceeded in other things.
For he endeavoured t o resime in his memory all ;he
events of the whole day, and in the very same order in
which each of them happened t o t ake place. But if
they had sufficient leisure after rising from sleep, they
tried after the same manner t o recollect the events
of the third preceding day. And thus they endeavoured
t o exercise the memory to a great extent. For there is
not any thing which is of greater importance with
respect t o science, experience and wisdom, than the
ability of remembering. From these studies therefore,
it happened that all Italy was filled with philosophers,
and this place, which before was unknown, was after-
wards on account of Pythagoras called Magna Griecia.
Hence also it contained many philosophers, poets, and
legislators. For the rhetorical arts, demonstrative
r&sonings, and the laws written by them, were trans-
ferred from Italv t o Greece. Those likewise who make
mention of adduce as the principal physiologists
Em~edocles and the Elean Parmenides. Those too.
wh6 wish to cite sentences, pertaining t o the conduct
of human life, adduce for this purpose the conceptions
of Epicharmus. And nearly all philosophers make use
of these. Thus much therefore concerning the wisdom
of Pythagoras, how in a certain respect he very much
impelled all his auditors t o the pursuit of it, as far as
th& were adapted to its participation, and -how per-
fectly it was delivered by him.
CHAP. XXX.
WITH respect t o justice, however, we shall learn in
the best manner, how he cultivated and delivered it t o
mankind, if we survey it from its first principle, and
from what first causes it germinates, and also direct
our attention t o the first cause of injustice. For thus
we shall discover how he avoided the latter, and what
methods he adopted in order that the former might be
properly ingenerated in the soul. The principle of
justice therefore, is the common and the equal, through
which, in a way most nearly approximating to one
body and one soul, all men may be co-passive, and
may call the same thing mine and thine; as is also
testified by Plato, who learnt this from t he Pytha-
goreans. This therefore, Pythagoras effected in the best
manner, exterminating every thing private in man-
ners, but increasing that which is common as far as to
ultimate possessions, which are the causes of sedition
and tumult. For all things [with his disciples] were
common and the same to all, and no one possessed any
thing private. And he indeed, who approved of this
communion, used common possessions in the most just
manner; but he who did not, received his own pro-
perty, i hi ch he brought t o thi common stock, with an
addition t o it, and departed. And thus he established
justice in the best maher , from the first principle of it.
I n the next place, therefore, association with men
introduces iust&e; but alienation. and a contempt of
d
the common produce injustice. Wishing &ere-
fore t o insert this familiarity from afar in men, he also
ordained that his discides ihould extend it t o animals
of the same genus, ana commanded them t o consider
these as the& familiars and friends; so as neither t o
injure, nor slay, nor eat any one of them. He there-
fore who associates men with animals, because they
consist of the same elements as we do, i nd participate
with us of a more common life, will in a much greater
degree establish fellowship with those who partake of
a soul of the same species, and also of a rational soul.
From this also it is evident that he introduced justice
produced from the most proper principle. ~i nEe like-
wise the want of riches, sometimes compels many t o do
something contrary t o justice, he well foresaw that this
would be the case, and through economy procured for
himself liberal expenses, and what was just in sufficient
abundance. For again, a just arrangement of domestic
concerns is the principle of all good order in cities.
For cities are constituted from houses. It is said there-
fore, that Pythagoras himself was the heir of the pro-
perty of Alcaeus, who died after performing an embassy
to the Lacebmonians, but that notwithstanding this,
he was no less admired for his economy than for his
philosophy. When also he was married, he so educated
the daughter that was born t o him, and who was after-
wards married to Meno the Crotonian, that when she
was a virgin she was the leader of choirs, but when
a wife she held the first place among those that ap-
proached to altars. It isdikewise said, that the Meta-
bontines preserving the remembrance of Pythagoras
after his time, made his house a temple of Ceres, but
the street in which he lived a museum.
Because also insolence, luxury, and a contempt of the
laws, frequently impel men t o injustice, on this account
he daily exhorted his disciples t o give assistance t o law,
and to be hostile to illegality. Hence he made such a
division as the following: that what is called luxury,
is the first evil that usually glides into houses and cities;
that the second is insolence; and the third destruction.
That hence luxury should by all possible means be
excluded and expelled [from every house and city,] and
that men should be accustomed from th.eir birth t o a
temperate and manly life. He farther added, that it
is requisite t o be purified from all malediction, whether
it be that which is lamentable, or that which excites
hostility, and whether it be of a reviling, or insolent,
. .
or scurrilous nature.
Besides these, likewise, he established another most
beautiful species of justice, viz. the legislative; which
orders indeed what ought t o be done; but forbids
what ought not t o be done. This species, however,
is more excellent than the judicial form of justice.
For it resembles medicine which heals those that are
diseased. It differs from it however in this, that it
does not suffer disease t o commence, but pays attention
from afar t o the health of the soul. This therefore
being the case, the best of all legislators came from
the school of Pythagoras: in the first place, indeed,
Charondas the Catanaean; and in the next place.
Zaleucus and Timaratus, who wrote laws fo; th;
Locrians. Besides these likewise there were Theaetetus
and Helicaon, Aristocrates, and Phytius, who became
the legislators of the Rhegini. All these likewise
obtained from their citizens honors similar t o those
of the Gods. For Pythagoras did not act like Hera-
clitus, who said that he would write laws for the
Ephesians, and also petulantly said, that in those
laws he would order the citizens t o hang themselves.
But Pythagoras endeavoured t o establisrh laws, with
great LenGolence and political science. hi how-
ever is it requisite t o admire these men? For Zam-
olxis being a' Thracian, and the slave of Pythagoras,
after he had heard the discourses of Pythagoras,
having obtained his liberty, and returned t o ihe Getae,
gave raws t o them, as wGhave before observed in th;
beginning of this work, and exhorted the citizens t o
fortitude, having persuaded them that the soul is im-
- -
mortal. Hence even at present, all the Galate, and
Trallians, and many otheis of the Barbarians, pe&uade
their children that the soul cannot be destroyed; but
that i t remains after death, and that death &not to bc
feared, but danger is to be encountered with a f i m and
manly mind. Having therefore instructed the Getae
in these things, and written laws for them, he was con-
sidered by them as the greatest of the Gods.
Farther still, he apprehended that the dominion of
the Gods was most efficacious t o the establishment of
- ~
justice, and supernally from this he constituted a polity
and laws, and also justice. It will not however be
foreign t o the to add particularly the manner
i n which he thought we ought to conceive of divinity;
viz. that we should conceive that he exists, and that
he is so disposed towards the human race, that he
I wonder that the learned Obrechtus should translate tj/3-r18Av,
cum omni juventute sua. Had his translation, which is on the whole
very excellent, been reviewed by English or Scotch critics, they would
have immediately said from this circumstance, that he did not under-
stand Greek.
inspects and does not neglect it. And this conception
which the Pythagoreans derived from Pythagoras, they
apprehended t o be of great utility. For we require an
inspection of this kind, which we do not in any thing
think fit t o resist. But such as this is the inspective
government of divinity. For if a divine nat i re is a
thing of this kind, it deserves to have the empire of
the universe. For it was rightly said by the Pytha-
goreans, that man is an animal [so far as pertains t o his
irrational part,] naturally insolent, and various, accord-
ing t o impulses, desires, and the rest of the passions.
He requires therefore a transcendent inspection and
governbent of this kind, from which a certain casti-
gation and order may be derived. Hence they thought
that every one being conscious of the variety of his
nature, should never be forgetful of piety towards,
and the worship of divinity; but should always place
him before the eye of the mind, as inspecting and
diligently observiAe the conduct- of maikind.- But
aft& dignity and tKe ddaemoniacal nature, they thought
that every bne should pay the greatest attkntionwto
his parents and the laws, and should be obedient t o
them, not feignedly, but faithfully. And universally,
they thought it necessary t o believe, that nothing is
a greater evil than anarchy; since the human race is
n G naturally adapted t o 6e saved, when no one rules
over it.
These men also thought i t right t o adhere to the
customs and legal institutes of their ancestors, even
though they sKould be somewhat inferior t o other
customs and laws. For t o fly from the existing laws,
and t o be studious of innovation, is by no means
profitable and salutary. Pythagoras therefore gave
many other specimens of piety t o the Gods, evincing
that his life was conformable t o his doctrines. Nor
will it be foreign to the purpose to mention one of
them, which may serve to elucidate the rest. But I
will relate what Pythagoras said and did relative t o
the embassy from Sybaris t o Crotona, about demanding
the return of the exiles. For some of his associates
were slain by order of the ambassadors, one of whom
slew a part of them with his own hands; but another
was thk son of one of those who had excited the
sedition, and who died through disease. When the
roto on cans therefore were Jeliberating how they
should act in this affair, Pythagoras said t o his disciples,
that he was not willing the Crotonians should be so
greatly discordant in this affair, and that in his opinion,
the ambassadors should not even lead victims t o the
altars, much less ought they t o drag suppliants [i.e.
the exiles] from them. But when the Sybarites came
t o him with their complaints, and the man who had
slain some of his associates with his own hands, was
defending his conduct, Pythagoras said, that he should
not answer [an homicide]. Hence, some persons accused
him of asserting that he was Apollo, because prior to
this some one Caving asked himAabout a certaik obiect
of inquiry, why t he hi ng was so; he in his turn aned
the interrogator,, if he would think fit t o inauire of
ApoUo wh; he bas delivering oracles t o him, \hv he
ddivered them? Bnt to anGher of the ambassdors
who appeared t o him t o deride his school, in which
he taught the return of souls to. the supernal realms,
and who said that he would give him an epistle to
his father, as he was about to descend into Hades,
and exhorted him t o bring another letter in answer,
from his father, when he returned; Pythagoras replied,
that he was not about t o descend into the abode of
the impious, where he clearly knew that murderers
were p;nish;d. But the ambassadors reviling him, he
proceeded t o the sea, many persons following him, and
there sprinkled himself with marine water. Some one
however of the Crotonian counsellors, after reviling the
rest of the ambassadors, observed that he understood
they had defamed Pythagoras, whom not even a brute
would dare to blaspheme, though a11 animals should
again utter the same voice as men, which fables report
tKey did in the beginning of things.
A
Pythagoras likewise discovered another method of re-
straining men from injustice, through the judgrnen~
of souls, trulv knowing indeed that this method may
be taught, a i d also kiowing that it is useful t o t h i
suppression of justice through fear. He asserted there-
fore, that it is much better t o be iniured than t o kill a
man; for that iudgment is depositid in Hades, where
J u
the soul, and its essence, and the first nature ofbeings,
- -
are properly estimated. Being desirous, however, t o
exhibit in things unequal, without symmetry and in-
finite, a definite, equal, and commensurate justice,
.. -
and t o show how i t ought t o be exercised, Ke said;
that justice resembles tKat figure, which is- the onl;
one among geometrical diagrams, - that having indeed
infinite compositions of figures, but dissimilarly dis-
posed with reference t o each other, yet has equal
aemonstrations of ~0wer. l Since also thkre is a certain
justice in making i se of another person, such a mode of
it as the following, is said t o have been delivered by
the Pythagoreans: Of associations with others, one
kind is seasonable, but another is unseasonable. These
likewise are distinguished from each other by difference
of age, desert, the familiarity of alliance, and of bene-
ficence, and whatever else there may be of th.e like
kind i n the different associations o f men with each
other. For there is a species of association, viz. of a
younger with a younger 'person, which does not appear
* Iamblichus here alludes to a right-angled triangle, and the
Pythagoric theorem of 47. I of Euclid. For the square described on
the longest side is equal to the two squares described on the two
other sides. The longest side therefore is said by geometricians to
be equal in power to the powers of the other sides. This however
Kiessling not understanding, says, " that power is the space contained
between the concurring lines of figures, and is the area of the triangle."
" A6vZprc idem est, quod ippa80v s atium, quod intra concurrentes
3. p
lineas figurarum continetur, area trigoni." But Kiessling, though a
good verbalist, is a bad geometrician, and no philosopher.
t o be unseasonable; but that of a younger with an
elderly person is unseasonable. For no species of anger,
or threatening, or boldness, is becoming in a younger
towards an elderly man, but all unseasonable conduct
of this kind shodd be cautiously avoided. A similar
reasoning likewise should be adopted with respect to
desert. For it is neither decorous, nor seasonable, t o
use an unrestrained freedom of speech, or t o adopt
any of the above-mentioned modes of conduct, towards
a man who has arrived at the true dignity of consum-
mate virtue. Conformably t o this also, was what he
said respecting the associa;ion with parents, and like-
wise with benefactors. He added, that there is a cer-
tain various and multiform use of an opportune time.
For of those that are enraged and angry, some are so
seasonably, but others unseasonably. And again, of
those that aspire after, desire, and are impelled t o any
thing appetible, an opportune time is the attendant
on some, and an unseasonable time on others. And
the same thing may be said concerning other passions
and actions, dispositions, associations, and meetings.
He further observed, that an opportune time is to a
certain extent t o be taught, a i d also, that what
happens contrary t o expectition, is capable of receiving
an artificial discussion; but that when it is considered
universally and simply, none of the above-mentioned
particulars pertain t o it. Nearly, however, such things
are the attendants on it, as follow the nature of oppor-
tune time, viz. what is called the florid, the becoming,
the adapted, and whatever else there may be homo-
geneous t o these. He likewise asserted, that principle
[or tllr beginning] is in the universe unity, and is the
most honorable of things; and that in a similar manner
it is so in science, in experience, and in generation.
And again, that the number two is most honorable in a
house, in a city, in a camp, and in all such like systems.
But that the nature of principle is difficult to be sur-
veyed and apprehended in all the above-mentioned
particulars. For in sciences, it is not the ~rovi nce of
i ny casual understanding to' learn and judke, by well
surveying the parts of things, what the nature is of the
principle of these. He added, that it makes a great
difference, and that there is danger with resDect t o
the knowledge of the whole of thrngs, when 6inciple
is not rightly assumed. For none, in short, of the
consequent conclusio~~s can be sane, when the true
principle is unknown. The same thing may also be
said respecting a principle of another kind. For neither
can a house, nor a city, be well instituted, unless each
has a true ruler, who governs those that voluntarily
submit to him. For it is necessary that in both these
the governor should be willing to rule, and the governed
to obey. Just as with respect t o disciplines, when
they are taught with proper effect, it is necessary that
there should be a concurrence in the will both of the
teacher and learner. For if there is a resistance on
the part of either, the proposed work will never be
* *
accokplished in a proper manner. Thus therefore, he
proved, that it was beautiful to be persuaded by rulers,
and t o be obedient t o preceptorseA But he ekhibited
the following as the greatest argument through deeds,
of the truth of his observations. He went from Italy
t o Delos, t o Pherecydes the Syrian, who had been h i
preceptor, in order that he might afford him some
assistance, as he was then afflicted with what is called
the morbLs pedicularis, and he carefully attended him
t o the time bf his death, and piously pkrformed what-
ever rites were due to his dead prec;ptor. So diligent
was he in the discharge of his duties t o him from whom
he had received instrktion.
Moreover, with respect t o compacts and the veracity
pertaining t o them, Pythagoras &so prepared his dii-
ciples for the observance of them, that, as it is said,
~y s i s having once performed his adorations in the
temple of Juno, met, as he was departing from it,
about the vestibules with Euryphamus the Syracusan,
who was one of his fellow disciples, and was then
entering into the temple. Eury fiamus therefore de-
if siring Lysis t o wait for him, t he also had adored
the Goddess, Lysis sat down on a stone seat which was
- ,
placed there. Euryphamus however having finished
his adoration, and becoming absorbed in certain pro-
found conceptions, forgot his appointment, and went
out of the temple through another gate. But Lysis
waited for him without quitting his seat, the remainder
of that day and the following night, and also the greater
part of the next day. And perhaps he would have
itaid there for a still longer t h e , bl ess Euryphamus
on the following day, haa heard in the auditbiy, that
Lvsis was wanted by his associates. Recollecting there-
fdre his compact, Le came t o Lysis, a i ~d liberared him
from his engagement, a t the same time telling him the
cause of his forgetfulness, and added, " Some God
produced in me &is oblivion, as a trial of your firmness
in preserving your compacts ." Pythagoras likewise
ordained abstinence from animal food, for many other
I
reasons, and likewise because it is productive of peace.
For those who are accustomeda t o abominaG the
slaughter of animals as iniquitous and preternatural,
will think it t o be much more unlawful t o kill a man,
or engage in war. But war is the leader and legislator
of slaughter. For by this it is increased, and becomes
strong and powerful. Not t o step also above the beam
of the balance, is an exhortation t o justice, announcing,
that whatever is just should be cultivated, as will be
shown when we discuss the Pythagoric symbols. It
appears therefore, through all these particulars, that
Pythagoras paid great attention t o the exercise of
justice, and t o the delivery of i t t o mankind, both in
deeds and i n words.
CHAP. XXXI.
IT follows, in the next place, that we should speak of
temDerance, and show how it was cultivated bv
~~t La ~or a s , ' a nd how he delivered it t o his associate;.
We have already therefore narrated the common vre-
cepts concerning it, in which it is said that every &ing
incommensurate should be cut off with fire and sword.
The abstinence also from animal food, is a precept of
the same species; and likewise from certain foods
calculated t o produce intemperance, and impeding the
vigilance and genuine energies of the reasoning power.
Farther still, t o this species the precept belongs, that
sumptuous food should indeed be introduced in ban-
quets, but should [shortly after] be sent away, and given
t o the servants, being placed on the table merely for
the sake of punishing the desires. Likewise, that no
liberal and hgenuo; woman should wear iold, but
only harlots. And again, the exercise of taciturnity,
and perfect silence, for the purpose of governing the
tongue. Likewise a strenuous and assiduous resump-
tion and investigation of the most difficult theorems.
But on account <fall these, we must refer to the same
virtue [i.e. t o temperance,] abstinence from wine;
paucity of food and sleep; an inartificial contempt of
renown, wealth, and the like; a sincere reverence
towards those to whom reverence is due, but an un-
feigned similitude of behaviour and benevolence to-
wGds those of the same age; an animadversion and
exhortation of those that are younger, without envy;
and every thing else of the like kind.
The temperance also of those men, and how Pytha-
goras taught this virtue, may be learnt from *what
Hiv~obotus and Neanthes narrate of Mvllias and
~i &c h a who were Pphagoreans. For they say that
Dionysius the tyrant could not obtain the friendship
of any one of the Pythagoreans, though he did every
thing t o accomplish his purpose; for they had ob-
served, and carefully avoided his monarchical dis-
position. He sent therefore t o the Pythagoreans, a
troop of thirty soldiers, under the command of Eury-
menes the Syracusan, who was the brother of Dion,
in order that by treachery their accustomed migration
from Tarentum t o Metapontum, might be oppor-
tunately effected for his purpose. For it was usual
with them t o change their abode at different seasons of
the year, and they chose such places as were adapted
t o this migration. I n Phalz therefore, a craggy part
of Tarentum, through which the Pythagoreans must
necessarily pass in their journey, Eurymenes insidi-
ously concealed his troop, and when the Pythagoreans,
expecting no such thing, came t o that place about the
middle of the day, the soldiers rushed upon them with
shouts, after the manner of robbers. But the Pytha-
goreans being disturbed and terrified a t an attack so
unexpected, and a t the superior number of their
enemies (for the whole number of the Pythagoreans
was but ten), and considering also that they must be
taken captive, as they were without arms, and had t o
contend with men who were variously armed,-they
found that their only safety was in flight, and they
did not conceive that this was foreign t o virtue. For
they knew that fortitude, according t o the decision of
right reason, is the science of things which are t o be
avoided and endured. And this they now obtained.
For those who were with Eurymenes, being heavy-
armed, would have abandoned the pursuit of the
Pythagoreans, if the latter in their flight had not arrived
at a certain field sown with beans, and which were in
a sufficiently flourishing condition. Not being willing
therefore t o violate the dogma which ordered them not
t o touch beans, they stood still, and from necessity
attacked their pursuers with stones and sticks, and what-
ever else they happened t o meet with, till they had
slain some, and wounded many of them. All the
Pythagoreans however, were a t length slain by the
spearmen, nor would any one of them suffer himself
t o be taken captive, but preferred death t o this, con-
formably t o the mandates of their sect.
~ u r ~ me n e s therefore, and his soldiers, were beyond
measure disturbed on finding that they should not be
able t o bring one of the Pythagoreans alive t o Diony-
sius, though they were sent by him for this purpose
alone. Hence, having piled earth on the slain, and
buried them in that place in a common sepulchre, they
turned their steps homeward. As they were returning,
however, they happened t o meet with Myllias the
Crotonian, and his wife Timycha the Lacedemonian,
whom the-other ~vthagoreans had left behind. because
Timycha being prkgnalt, was now in her sixtt;' month,
and on this account walked leisurely. These therefore,
the soldiers gladly made captive, and led them t o thd
tyrant, paying every attention to them, in order that
they might be brought t o him safe. But the tyrant
having learnt what had happened, was greatly dejected,
and said t o the two Pythagoreans, You shall obtain
from me honors transcending all others in dignity, if
you will consent to reign in conjunction with me. All
his offers however biing rejicted by Myllias and
Timycha; If then, said he,-you will only teach me one
thing, I will dismiss you with a sufficiently safe guard.
Myllias therefore asking him what i t was he wished t o
learn; Dionysius replied, It is this, why your companions
chose rather t o die, than t o tread on beans? But
Myllias immediately answered, My companions indeed
submitted t o death, in order that they might not tread
upon beans, but I would rather tread on them, than
tell you the cause of this. Dionysius therefore, being
In the original 6 i ~ a r o v the tenth month ; but as it very seldom
happens that a woman is in a state of pregnancy more than nine
months, it appears to me that for ~ ~ K ~ T O V we should read ~ KT OV the
~ i x t h month, as in the above translation.
astonished at this answer, ordered him t o be forcibly
taken away, but commanded Timycha t o be tortured:
for he thought, that as she was a woman, pregnant,
and deprived of her husband, she would easily tell
him &at he wanted t o know, through fear df the
torments. The heroic woman, however, grinding her
tongue with her teeth, bit it off, and spit i t a t the
tyrant; evincing by this, that though her sex being
vanquished by the torments might be compelled t o
disclose something which ought t o be concealed in
silence, yet the member subservient t o the develo -
ment of it, should be entirely cut off. So much di 4 -
culty did they make in admitting foreign friendships,
even though they should happen t o be royal.
Similar t o these also, were the precepts concerning
silence, and which tended t o the exercise of temper-
ance. For the subjugation of the tongue, is of all
other continence the most difficult. The persuading
likewise the Crotonians t o abstain from the pofan;
and spurious association with harlots, pertains t o the
same h u e . And besides this, the coriection through
music, by means of which Pythagoras restored a
man t o temperance, who had become furious through
love. The exhortation also, which leads from las-
civious insolence, must be referred t o the same virtue.
And these things Pythagoras delivered t o the Pytha-
goreans, he himself being the cause of them. For
they so attended t o their bodies, that they might always
remain in the same condition, and not at one time be
lean, but at another, abounding in flesh. For they
considered this t o be an indication of an anomalous
life. In a similar manner also with respect to the
mind, they were careful that they might nbt be a t one
time cheerful, and at another sad, but that they might
be mildly joyful with uniformity. But they expelled
rage, despondency, and perturbation. And i t was a
precept with them, that no human casualties ought to be
unexpected by those who are endued with intellect, but
that they should expect every thing may happen which i t
is not in their power to prevent. But if at any time they
were in a rage, or oppressed with sorrow, or any thing
else of this kind, they separated themselves from the
rest of their associates, and each by himself alone;
endeavoured t o digest and heal the passion.
This also is said of the Pythagoreans, that no one
of them when angry, either punished a servant, or
admonished any free man, but each of them waited
till his mind was restored t o its former [tranquil]
condition. But they called to admonish, pgdart an.
For they accomplished this waiting bye employing
silence and quiet. Hence Spintharus relates of Archy-
tas the ~a r i nt i ne , that ret i mi ng after a certain time
from the war which the city of Tarentum waged
against the Messenians, t o inspect some land which
belonged t o him, and finding that the bailiff and the
other servants, had not paid proper attention t o the
A A
cultivation of-it, but hab. greatly neglccted it, being
enraged, he was so indignant, that he told his servants
it was well for them he was angry; since, if this had
not happened, they would not have escaped the punish-
ment due t o so great an offence. Spintharus likewise
says that a similar thing is related of Clinias. For he
also deferred all admonitions and punishments, till his
*
mind was restored t o tranquillity.
It is farther related of ;he ~ythagoreans, that they
expelled from themselves lamentatcon, weeping, and
every thing else of this kind; and that neither gain,
-
nor desire, nor anger, nor ambition, nor any thing of
a similar nature, became the cause of dissention among
them; but that all the Pythagoreans were so disposeJ
towards each other, as a worthy father is towards his
offspring. This also is a beautiful circumstance, that
the? referred every thing t o Pythagoras, and called it
by his name, and that they did not ascribe t o themselvcs
the glory of their own inventions, except very rarely.
For there are very few whose works are acknowledged
t o be their own. The accuracy too, with which they
preserved their writings is admirable. For in so many
ages, no one appears t o have met with any of the
commentaries of the Pythagoreans, prior t o the time
of Philolaus. But he first published those three cele-
brated books, which Dion the Syracusan is said t o have
bought, at the request of plat;, for a hundred mina.
For Philolaus had fallen into a certain great and severe
poverty; and from his alliance t o th;! Pythagoreans,
- a . . .
was a partaker of their writings.
wi t h respect also t o opinick,' it is related that they
svoke of it as follows: That it is the vrovince of a
A A
stupid man to pay attention to the opinion of every
one, and especially to that of the multitude. For it
beldngs to a few drily to apprehend and opine rightly;
since it is evident that this pertains to the intelligent
alone. But they are few. '1t is manifest therelore,
that a power of this kind does not extend itself to the
multitude. But it is also stupid to despise the opinion
of every one. For it will hippen t hi t he who is so
disposed will be unlearned and incorrigible. It is how-
ever necessary that he who is destitutcof science should
learn those things of which he is ignorant, and has no
scientific knowledge. And it is likewise necessary that
the learner should pay attention to the opinion of him
who possesses science, and is able to teach. And
unive;sally, it is necessary that those young men who
wish to be saved, should attend to the opinion of their
elders, and of those who have lived wen. But in the
whole of human life there are certain ages (denominated
by them as it is said endedasmena) which it is not in
the power of any casual person td connect with each
other. For they are expelled by each other, unless
some one conducts a man from his birth, in a beautiful
and upright manner. It is necessary therefore, when
a child is educated well, and is formed to temperance
Obrechtus by translating mPl 8; S6bsin this place, " De fama et
gloria," has evidently mistaken the meaning of Iamblichus.
and fortitude, that a great part of his education should
be given t o the age of adolescence [which is that of a
ladl. In a similar manner also, when a lad is formed
d
t o temperance and fortitude, i t is necessary that a great
part of his education should be transferred t o the age
bf manhood. For that which happens t o the multituae
is absurd and ridiculous. For they fancy i t is requisite
that bovs should be orderly and tdmperite. and should
abstain'from everv thine which ao&ars to'be trouble-
some and indecor6us; bout that whin they have arrived
at adolescency, they may for the most part do whatever
they please. Hence there is nearly a conflux of both
kinds'of errors into this age. FO; lads commit many
faults which are both puerile and virile. For, in short,
t o avoid everv kind of sedulitv and order. and ;o pursue
every specie; of sport, and buerile intemperanSe and
insolence, are most adapted t o the age of a boy. Such
a dis~osition therefore as this. is derived from the
pueriie into the following age. But the genus of strong
desires, and of different species of ambition, and in a
similar manner the remaining impulses and dispositions,
when they are of a severe and turbulent nature, are
derived fiom the virile age into that of adolescency.
Hence this of all the ages demands the greatest attention.
And universally, no man ought t o be suffered to do
whatever he pleases, but i t is always necessary that there
should be a cirtain inspection, and a legal a d elegantly-
formed government, t o which each of the citizens is
obedient: For the- animal. when left t o itself and
neglected, rapidly degenerates into vice and depravity.
It is likewise said, that the Pythagoreans frequently
inquired and doubted why we accustom boys to take
their food in an orderly and commensurate manner,
and show them that order and svmmetrv are beautiful:
but that the contraries t o the&, disorder and incom-
mensuration, are bzse; and thit he who is given t o
wine and is insatiable, is held in great disgrace. For
if no one of these is useful t o us wLen we Kave arrived
at the age of virility, it was in vain that we were
accustomed, when boys, to an order of this kind.
And
there is also the same reason concerning the other
manners rt o which we are accustomed when bovsl.
I. d -I
This, therefore, is not seen to happen in other animals
which are disciplined by men; but immediately from
the first, a whelp and a colt are accustomed to. and
learn those things which it is requisite for them ;o do
when they have arrived at the perfection of their
nature. And universally, i t is said that the Pytha-
goreans exhorted both those they happened to meet, and
their familiars, t o avoid pleasure as a thing that required
the greatest caution. For nothing so much deceives
us, or precipitates us into error, as this passion. In
short, as it seems, they contended that we should never
do any thing with a view t o pleasure as the end. For
this scope is, for the most part, indecorous and noxious.
But they asserted, that especially looking to the beautijbl
and decorous, we should do whatever is to be done? And
that in the second place we should look t o the advan-
tageous and the useful. These things, however, require
no casual judgment.
With respect t o what is called desire. these men are
said to ha;e asserted as follows: hat desire indeed,
itself, is a certain tendency, impulse, and appetite of the
soul, i n order to befilled with something, or to enjoy some-
thing present, or to be disposed according to some sensitive
energy ; but that there is also a desire of the contraries
to these, and this is a desire of the evacuation and
The wise and magnanimous Pythagoreans, Platonists, Peripatetics
and Stoics, among the ancients, looked to virtue as its own reward,
and performed what is right, because it is right to do so. And though
they firmly believed in the immortality of the soul, their conduct
was not at all influenced by the hope of future reward. This great
truth indeed, that virtue brings with it its own recompense, is almost
at present obsolete ; and it is no unusual thing to hear a man, when
afflicted, exclaiming with Methodistical cant,
" The many troubles that I meet,
In getting to a Mercy-seat ! "
absence, and of having no sensible perception of certain
things. That this assion likewise is various, and is
nearly the most mu ! tifarious of all those that pertain
t o min. But that many human desires are adscihtious,
and procured by men themselves. Hence this passion
requires the greatest attention, and no casual care and
corporeal exercise. For that the body when empty
should desire food, is natural: and again, it is also
natural, that when filled, it should desire an appropriate
evacuation. But t o desire superfluous nutriment, or
superfluous and luxurious ga;ments or coverlids, or
habitations, is adscititious. They also reasoned in the
same manner concerning furniture, vessels, servants,
and cattle subservient t o food. And universally, with
respect to human passions, they are nearly things of
such a kind, as t o be nowhere permanent, but t o
proceed t o infinity. Hence attention should be paid
to youth from the earliest period, in order that they
may aspire after such things as are proper, may
avoid vain and superfluous desires, and thus be un-
disturbed by, and 'purified from, sbch-like appetites,
and may despise those who are objects of contempt,
because they are bound t o [all-various] desires. But it
must be especially observed, that vain, noxious, super-
fluous, and insolent desires subsist with those who have
the greatest power. For there is not any thing so
absurd, which the soul of such boys, men, and women,
does not incite them t o perform. I n short, the variety
of food which is assumed, is most manifold. For there
are an infinite number of fruits, and an infinite multi-
tude of roots, which the human race uses for food. It
likewise uses all-various kinds of flesh; and it is difficult
t o find any terrestrial, aerial, or aquatic animal, which
it does not taste. It also employs all-various contri-
vances in the preparation of these, and manifold
A L
mixtures of juices. Hence it r ~~e r l i f ol l ows that the
P human tribe is insane and mu tifarm, according t o the
motion of the soul. For each kind of food that is
introduced into the body, becomes the cause of a certain
. -
peculiar disposition.
We however perceive tha,t some things become
immediately the b u s e of a great change yn quality,
as is evident in wine. For when it is drank abundantly,
it makes men at first more cheerful, but afterwards more
insane and indecorous. But men are ignorant of those
things which do not exhibit a pow;r of this kind;
t hoGh every thing that is eaten is'the cause of a certain
pecucar dispositi&. Hence it requires great wisdom,
to be able to know and perceive, what kind and what
quantity of food ought t i be used. This science, how-
ever, was at first unfolded by Apollo and Paeon; but
afterwards bv Escula pius and his followers.
With respect to generation also, the Pythagoreans
are said to have made the following observations. I n
the first place, they thought it Gecessary t o guard
against what is called untimely [offspring]. For neither
untimely plants, nor animals, are good; but prior to
their bearing fruit, it is necessary that a certain time
should inteGene. i n order that ' seeds and fruit may
be produced from strong and perfect bodies. It is
requisite, therefore, that boys and virgins should be
accustomed to labors and exercises, and appropriate
endurance, and that food should be given t o them
adapted to a life of labor, temperance, and endurance.
But there are many things of this kind in human life,
which it is better to learn at a late period, and among
these is the use of venery. It is necessary, therefore,
that a boy should be so educated, as not to seek after
such a connexion as this, within the twentieth year of
his age. But when he arrives at this age, he should use
venery rarely. This however will be the case, if he
think; that a good habit of body is an honorable and
beautiful thing. For intemper;nce and a good habit
of body, are not very much adapted to subsist together
in the same person. I t is also said, that those laws
were praised by the Pythagoreans, which existed prior
to their time in Grecian cities, and which prohibited
the having connexion with a woman who is 'a mother,
or a dau&ter, or a sister, either in a temple, or in a
public place. For it is beautiful and advantageous that
there should be numerous impediments to this energy.
These men also apprehended, as it seems, that preter-
natural generations, and those which are effected in
conjuncGon with wanton insolence, should be entirely
preiented from taking place; but that those should be
suffered t o remain, which are according to nature, and
subsist with temDerance. and which take dace in the
a
chaste and legal irocreat'ion of children.
Thev likewise were of o~i ni on that nreat ~rovidential
attendon should be paid by those wco b e k t children.
t o the future progeiy. he first, theregre, and thd
greatest care which should be taken bv him who applies
V
himself to the procreation of chi l drk is, that hd lives
temperately and healthfully, that he neither fills him-
self with food unseasonably, nor uses such aliments
as may render the habits of the body worse than they
were, and above all things, that he avoids intoxication.
For they thought that depraved seed was produced
from a bad, discordant, and turbid temperament. And
universally they were of opinion, that none but an
indolent and inconsiderate person would attempt t o
produce an animal, and lead it into existence. without
providing with all possible diligence that i;s ingress
into being and life might be most elegant and pleasing.
For those that are lovers of dogs, pay every possible
attention to the generation of whelps, in order that
they may be produced from such things as are proper,
and when it is proper, and in such a way as is proper,
and thus may become a good offspring. The same
attention also is paid by those who are lovers of birds.
And it is evident that others also who are studious
about the procreation of generous animals, endeavour
by all possible means, that the generation of them may
not be in vain. It would be absurd therefore that men
should pay no attention t o their own offspring, but
should both beget them casually and with perfect care-
lessness, and, after they are begotten, nourish and
educate them with extreme negligence. For this is
w w
the most powerful and most manifest cause of the vice
and depravity of the greater part of mankind. For
with the multitude the procreation of children is under-
taken in a beastlv andArash manner. And such were
the assertions, r i d such the doctrine of these men,
which they verified both in words and deeds, respect-
ing temperance; these recepts having been originally
received by them from F ythagoras himself, like certain
oracles delivered by the Pythian Apollo.
CHAP. XXXII.
WITH respect to fortitude, however, many of the
particulars which have been already related, appro-
priately pertain to it; such as the admirable deeds of
Timycha, and of those Pythagoreans who chose to die
rather than transgress the decisions of Pythagoras con-
cerning beans, and other things conformable to such-
like pursuits. Such also are the deeds which Py thagoras
himself generously accom lished, when he travelled
everywhere alone. and un cf' erwent immense labors and
dangers, choosing& leave his country, and dwell among
strangers. Likewise, when he dissolved tyrannies, gave
an orderly arrangement to confused polities, and
emancipated cities. When also he caused illegality to
cease, ;nd impeded the operations of insol& 'and
tyrannical men; exhibiting himself a benignant leader
to the just and mild, but expelling savage and licentious
men from his association, and refusing even to give
them an answer; glad1 , indeed, giving assistance t o
the former, but with a Y his might resisting the latter.
Many instances therefore of hese t hi n5 might be
adduced, and of upright actions frequently performed
by him. But the greatest of all these, is what he said
and did to Phalaris, with an invincible freedom of
speech. For when he was detained in captivity by
Phalaris, the most cruel of tyrants, a wise man of thd
Hyperborean race, whose name was Abaris, was his
associate, who came to him for the sake of conversing
with him, and asked him many questions, and especially
such as were of a sacred nature, respecting statues and
the most holy worship, the providence of the Gods,
celestial and terrestrial natures, and many other things
of a similar kind. But Pythagoras, being under the
influence of divine inspiration, answered Abaris vehe-
mently, and with all truth and persuasion, so as t o
convince those that heard him. Then, however,
Phalaris was inflamed with anger against Abaris,
because h e praised. Pythagoras, and was ferociously
disposed towards Pythagoras himself. He also dared
to utter blasphemies against the Gods themselves, and
such as he was accustomed to pour forth. But Abaris
gave Pythagoras thanks for what he said; and after this,
learnt from him that all things are suspended from and
governed by the heavens ; which he evinced to be the case
from many other things, and also from the energy of sacred
rite^. And Abaris was so far from thinking that Pytha-
goras, who taught these things, was an enchanter, that
he beyond measure admired him as if he had been a
God. To these things, however, Phalaris replied by
endeavouring to subvert divination, and openly deny-
ing the efficacy of the things which are performed in
sacred rites. But Abaris transferred the discourse from
these particulars to such as are clearly apparent to all
men; and endeavoured to persuade him that there is
a divine providence, from those circumstances which
transcendAall human-hope and power, whether they are
immense wars, or incurable diseases, or the corruption
of fruits, or the incursions of pestilence, or certain
other things of the like kind, which are .most difficult
to be borne, and deplorable, arising from the beneficent
energies of certain daemoniacal and divine powers.'
Phalaris, however, shamelessly and audaciously op-
posed what was said. Again therefore Pythagoras, sus-
pecting that Phalaris intended to put him to death,
but at the same time knowing that he was not destined
t o die by Phalaris, began t o address him with great
freedom of speech. For looking to Abaris he said, that
a transition was naturally adapted to take place from
the heavens to aerial and terrestrial beings. And again,
he showed that all things follow the heavens, from
instances most known to all men. He likewise in-
dubitably demonstrated, that the [deliberative] power
of the soul possesses freedom of will. And proceeding
still farther, he amply discussed the perfect energy of
reason and intellect. Afterwards also, with his [usual]
freedom of speech, he spoke concerning tyranny, and
all the prerogatives of fortune, and concerning injustice
and human avarice, and solidly taught him that all
these are of no worth. In the next place, he gave him
a divine admonition concerning the most excellent life,
and earnestly entered on a comparison of it with the
most depraved life. He likewise most clearly unfolded
to him, how the soul, and its powers and passions,
subsist; and, what is the most beautiful thing of all,
demonstrated to him that the Gods are not the causes of
evils, and that diseases, and such things as are the cala-
mities of the body, are the seeds of intimperance; repre-
hending at the same time mythologists and poets for
what they have badly said in fables [on this subject].
Confuting PhaIaris also, he admonished him, and ex-
hibited to him through works what the power of heaven
is, and the magnitude of that power; and proved t o
him by many arguments, that legal punishment is
reasonably established. He likewise clearly showed him
1 These energies are called beneficent, because they are of a purifying
character. Hence Plato in the Timaeus says, that a deluge is the conse-
quence of the Gods purifying the earth by water.
what the difference is between men and other animals ;
and scientificall discussed internal and external speech.
P He also perfect y demonstrated the nature of intellect,
and of the knowledge which descends from it; together
with many other ethical dogmas consequent to these
things.
Farther still, he instructed him in what is most
beneficial among the things that are useful in life; and
in the mildest manner adapted admonitions harmoniz-
ing with these; adding a; the same time prohibitions
of what ought not to be done. And that which is the
greatest o r all, he unfolded to him the distinction
-
between the roductions of fate, and those of intellect,
and also the f ifference between what is done by destiny,
and what is done by fate. He likewise wisely discussed
many things conc&ning daemons, and the immortality
of the soul. These .things however pertain to another
treatise. But those particulars are more appropriate
t o our present purpose which belong to the cultivation
of fortitude. For if, when situated in the midst of
dreadful circumstances, Pythagoras appears to have
hilosophized with firmness of decision, if on all sides
Ee resisted and repelled fortune, and strenuously en-
dured its attacks, and if he employed the greatest
freedom of speech towards him who brought his life
into danger, it is evident that he perfectly despised
those things which are thought to be dreadful, and that
he considered them as undeserving of notice. If also,
when he expected according to appearances to be put
to death, he entirely despised this, and was not moved
by the expectation of it, it is evident that he was
perfectly free from the dread of death.1
1 Iamblichus a little before informs us, that Pythagoras suspected
that Phalaris intended to put him to death, but at the same time knew
that he was not destined to die by Phalaris. This being the case
therefore, Pythagoras has no claim to fortitude in this instance, in
being free from the fear of death. But he hasgreat claim to it, when
it is considered that he was in the power of a tyrant who might have
caused him to suffer tortures worse than death.
8
He performed however what is still more generous
than this, by effecting the dissolution of tyranny,
restraining the tyrant when he was about to bring the
most deplorable calamities on mankind; and liberating
Sicily from the most cruel and imperious power. But
that it was Pythagoras who accomplished this, is evident
from the oracles of Apollo, in which it is predicted that
the domination of ~hal ari s would then* be dissolved,
when those that were governed by him should becomd
better men, and be more concordant with each other;
such as they then became, when Pythagoras was present
with them, through the doctrines and instruction which
he imparted t o &em. A greater proof however of the
truth of this, is derived from the time in which i t
happened. For on the very same day in which Phalaris
put Pythagoras and Abaris in danger of death, he him-
self was slain by stratagem. That also which happened
to Epimenides may be an argument of the truth of
these things. For as he, who was the disciple of
Pythagoras, when certain persons intended to destroy
him, invoked the Furies, and the avenging Gods, and
by so doing caused all those that attempted his life, to
destroy each other;-thus also Pythagoras, who gave
assistance to mankind, after the manner and with the
fortitude of Hercules, for the benefit of men, punished
and occasioned the death of him who had acted in an
insolent and disorderly manner towards others; and
this through the oracles themselves of Apollo, to the
series of which divinity both he and Epimenides
spontaneously belonged k o m their very biith. And
thus far, indeed, we hare thought it requisite t o
mention this admirable and strenuous deed, the effect
of his fortitude.
We shall however adduce another example of it, viz.
the salvation of legitimate opinion; for, this,
he performed that which appeared to him t o he just,
and which was dictated by right reason, not being
diverted from his intention either by pleasure, or
labor, or any other passion, or danger. His disciples
also chose to die rather than transgress his mandates.
And when they were exposed to &-various fortunes,
they preserved invariably the same manners. When
also they were involved in ten thousand calamities, they
never deviated from his precepts. But it was a never-
I I
failing exhort at ion with them, always to give assistance
to law, but to be hostile to illegality, and to be accus-
tomed from their birth t o a life of temperance and
fortitude, in order to restrain and repel luxury. They
had also certain melodies which were devised by them,
as remedies against the passions of the soul, and likewise
against despondency and lamentation, which Pythago-
ras invented, as affording the greatest assistance in these
maladies. And again, they employed other melodies
against rage and anger, through which they gave
intension and remission to these passions, till they
reduced them to moderation, and rendered them com-
mensurate with fortitude. !That, however, which afforded
them the greatest sup ort in generous endurance, was the
l persuasion that no uman casualties ought to be un-
expected by men who are in the possession of intellect,
but that all things ought to be expected by them, over
which they have no absolute $ozuer.
~ o r e o k r , if at any timeJthey happened t o be angry,
or sorrowful, they immediately separated themselves
from the rest of their associates, and each by himself
alone strenuously endeavoured to digest and- heal the
passion [by which he was oppressed]- They also con-
ceived generally, that labor should be em loyed about
P disciplines and studies, and that they shou d be severely
exercised in trials of the most variois nature, in pnisG-
ments and restraints by fire and sword, in order to be
liberated from innate intemperance, and an inexhagst-
ible avidity of possessing; ai d that ibr this pur ose, no
labors, nor any endurance should be spared. order
to acc-omplish this likewise, they ge&rously exercised
abstinence from all animals, and besides this, from
certain other kinds of food. Hence also arose their
detention of speech, and their perfect silence as pre-
paratory to the subjugation of the tongue; in which
for many years they exercised their fortitude. To
which also may be added, their strenuous and assiduous
investigation and resumption of the most difficult
theorems; and on account of these things, their
abstinence from wine, their paucity of food and sleep,
and their contempt of glory, wealth, and the like. And
in conjunction with all these particulars, they extended
themselves to fortitude.
It is likewise said, that these men expelled lamenta-
tions and tears, and every thing else of this kind.
They also abstained from entreaty, from supplication,
and from all such illiberal adulation, as being eff em-
inate and abject.' To the same conception likewise
the peculiarit of their manners must be referred, and
K that all of t em perpetually preserved among their
arcana, the most principal dogmas in which their dis-
cipline was chiefly contained, keeping them with the
greatest silence from being divulged t o strangers, com-
mitting them unwritten t o the memory, and trans-
mitting them orally t o their successors, as if they were
the mysteries of the Gods. Hence it happened, that
nothing of their philosophv worth mentioning, was
made public, and that thodgh for a long time it had
been taught and learnt, it'was alone known within their
walls. But t o those out of their walls, and as I may
say, t o the profane, if they happened t o be present,
these men spoke obscurely t o each other through
symbols, of which the celebrated precepts that are now
in circulation retain a vestige; such as, Dig not fire
with a sword, and other symbols of the like kind,
i.e. Humble (riiactvrjs obuqs). With the Pythagoreans, therefore,
humility was no virtue, though in modern times it is considered to
be the greatest of the virtues. With Aristotle likewise it is no virtue :
for in his Nicomachean Ethics he says, " that all humble men are
flatterers, and all flatterers are humble."
which, taken literally, resemble the tales of old women;
but when unfolded, impart a certain admirable and
venerable benefit t o those tha.t receive them.
The precept, however, which is of the greatest
efficacy of all others t o the attainment of fortitude,
is that which has for its most ~ r i n c i ~ a l scoDe the ~ -
being defended and liberated from' thosi bonds'which
detain the intellect in captivity from infancy, and
without which no one can learn or perceive ani t hi ng
sane or true, through whatever sense he may ehergizL
For according t o the Pythagoreans,
'Tis mind that all things sees and hears;
What else exists is deaf and blind.
But the precept which is next t o this in efficacy is
that which exhorts to be bevond measure studious
of purifying the intellect, anh b various methods
adapting it throuih mathematicar orgies to receive
something divinelv beneficial, so as neither t o fear a
separatiog from Gody, nor, &hen led t o incorporeal
natures, t o be forced t o turn away the eyes, through
their most refulgent splendor,' nor t o be converted ;O
those passions Ghich =nail and fasten the soul t o the
body. A And, in short, which urges the soul t o be un-
tamed by all those passions wkch are the progeny
of the realms of generation, and which draw it t o an
inferior condition of being. For the exercise and
ascent through all these, G the study of the most
perfect fortitude. And such are the instances adduced
by us of the fortitude of Pythagoras, and the Pytha-
goreans.
CHAP. XXXIII.
WITH respect to the amity, however, which subsists
in all things towards all, Pythagoras delivered it in the
See the Cave of Plato, in the 7th book of his Republic.
clearest manner. And, the amity of the Gods indeed
towards men, he unfolded through piety and scientific
cultivation; but that of dogmas towards each other,
and universally of the soul towards the body, and of
the rational towards the species of the irrational part,
through philosophy, and the theory pertaining t o it.
With respect t o the amity of men also towards each
other; tLat of citizens he delivered through sane legisla-
tion, but that of strangers through a correct physiology;
and that between man and wife, or children, or brothers,
and kindred, through unperverted communion. I n
short, he unfolded the friendship of all things towards
all, and still farther, of certain irrational animals,
th;ough justice and a physical connexion and associa-
tion. But the pacification and conciliation of the body,
which is of itsklf mortal, and of its latent contrary
powers, he unfolded through health, and a diet and
temperance conformable to this, in imitation of the
salubrious condition of the mundane elements. In all
these, however, Pythagoras is acknowledged to have
been the inventor and legislator of the summary com-
prehension of them in one and the same name, which
is that of friendship. And indeed he delivered such
an admirable friendihip t o his associates. that even now
those who are benevol'ent in the extreme towards each
other, are said t o belong t o the Pythagoreans. It is
necessary therefore t o narrate the discipline of Pytha-
goras respecting these things, and the precepts which
he used towards his disciples.
These men, then, exhorted others t o remove from
true friendship, contest and contention, and if possible,
indeed, from all friendship; but if not, a t least from
that which is parental, and universally from that which
pertains t o seniors and benefactors. For t o strive or
contend with such as these, in consequence of anger
intervening, or some other such-like passion, is not the
salvation of the existing friendship. But they said it
is requisite that there should be the least possible scars
and ulcers in friendships; and that this will be the
case, if those that are' friends know how t o soften
and subdue anger. If both indeed know this, or rather
the younger of the two, and who ranks in some one
of the above-mentioned orders [their friendship dl
be more easily preserved]. They also were of opinion,
that corrections and admonitions, which thev called
prednrtarc.r, should take place from the eldei t o the
*
younger Gt h much suaviiy and caution; and likewise,
that much sedulous and appropriate attention should
be manifested in admonitions. For thus they will be
decorous and beneficial. They also said, that cconfi-
dence should never be separated from friendship,
neither seriously nor even in jest. For it is no longer
easy for the existing friendship t o be in a sane condition,
when falsehood once insinuates itself into the manners
of those that acknowledge themselves t o be friends.
Ag~i n, according t o them, friendship should not be
abandoned on account of misfortune, or any other
imbecility t o which hunlan life is incident; but they
said, that the only approvable rejection of a friend
and friendship, is that which arises from great and in-
corrinible vice. Likewise, that hatred should not be
voluitarily entertained against those who are not per-
fectly bad; but that if it is once formed, it should be
generously and strenuously retained, unless the object
of it changes his manners, so as t o become a better man.
That the 'hostility also should not consist in words, but
in deeds. And fhat this war is legitimate and holy,
when i t is conducted in such a way as it becomes one
man t o contend with another.
They likewise said, that we should never, t o the
utmost of our power, bdcome the cause of dissension;
but that we should as much as possible avoid the
source of it. That in the friendship also, which is
intended to be pure, the greater of the things
pertaining t o it ought to be definite and legitimate.
And that these should be properly distinguished, and
should not be casual; and moreover, that we should
be careful that our 'onversation ma; never be neeli-
0
gently and casually performed, b i t with modesty,
benevolence, and good order. Also, that no passion,
such as desire, or anger, be rashly excited, and in a
bad and erroneous manner. And the same thing must
be said of the remaining passions and dispositio&.
Moreover, that they did not decline foreign friend-
ships carelessly, but that they avoided and guarded
against them, with the greatest sedulity; and also,
that they rigidly preserved friendship towards each
other for many ages, may be inferred from what Aris-
toxenus in his treatise On the Pythagoric life, says he
heard from Dionysius, the tyrant of Sicily, when having
fallen from monarchy he taught grammar a t Corinth.
For Aristoxenus says as follows : "These men as much
as possible prohibi<ed lamentations and tears, and every
thing of this kind; and in a similar manner adulation,
entr;aty, supplication, and the like. Dionysius, there-
fore, having fallen from his tyranny and come t o
~or i nt h, narrated t o us the particdars concerning
Phintias and Damon the ~~t hagor eans ; and these were
respecting the one being sponsor for the death of the
other. But the mode of the suretyship was as follows:
He said that certain persons, who were familiar with
him, had'frequently made mention of the Pythagoreans,
defaming and reviling them, calling them arrogant,
and asserting that their gravity, their pretended fidelity,
and apathy would be laid aside, if any one should cause
them t o fall into [some great] calamity. Certain per-
sons however contradicting this, and contention arising
on the subject, recourse was had to artifice, and one
of the accusers of Phintias said before him, that he
evidently conspired with certain others against the
life of Dionysius. This also was testified by some that
were present, and the charges against phi nt h appeared
t o be very probable. Phintias therefore was astonished
at the accisation. But when Dionysius had unequi-
vocally said, that he had accurately explored all these
particulars, and that it was necessary i hat he should
die, Phintias replied, that if it appeared requisite t o
him that this should take place, he requested that he
would grant him the remainde; of the day, in order
that he might settle his own affairs, and also those of
Damon. For those men lived together, and had all
things in common. Phintias, however, being the elder,
the management of the domestic concerns was for the
most par; undertaken by him. He requested there-
fore, that Dionysius would suffer him t o depart for
this purpose, and he would appoint Damon for his
surety. Dionysius therefore said that he wondered a t
the request, and that he asked him whether there was
any man who was willing t o become security for the
death of another. But Phintias asserting that there
was, Damon was sent for, who, on hearing what had
happened, said that he would become the sponsor,
and that he would remain there till Phintias returned.
Dionysius therefore said, that he, was immediately
astonished at these circumstances; but that they who
a t first introduced the experiment, derided Damon as
one who would be caugh< and said sneeringly that he
would be the vicarious stag. When therefore it was
near sunset, Phintias came t o die; a t which all that
were present were astonished and subdued. But Diony-
sius said, that having embraced and kissed the men,
he requested that they would receive him as the third
into their friendship. They however would by no
means consent t o a thing *of this kind, thouih he
entreated them t o comply with his request." And
these things are related by Ariotorenus, who received
them from Dionysius himself.
It is also said, i hat the Pythagoreans endeavoured to
perform the offices of friendship to those of their sect,
though they were unknown to, and had never been seen
by each other, when they had received a certain indi-
cation of the participation of the same doctrines; so
that from such friendly offices the assertion may be
credited, that worthy hen, even though they should
dwell in the most remote parts of the earth, are
mutually friends, and this before they become known
t o and salute each other. It is said therefore, that a
certain Pythagorean, travelling through a long and
solitary road on foot, came t o an inn; and there,
from labor and other all-various causes, fell into a long
and severe disease, so as t o be at length in want of the
necessaries of life. The inn-keeper, however, whether
from commiseration of the man, or from benevolence,
supplied him with every thing that was requisite,
neither sparing for this purpose any assistance or ex-
pense. But the Pythagorean falling a victim t o the
disease, wrote a certain symbol, before he died, in
a table, and desired the inn-keeper, if he should
happen to die, to suspend the table near the road,
and observe whether any passenger read the symbol.
For that person, said he, will repay you what you have
spent on me, and will also thank you for your kind-
ness. The inn-keeper, therefore, after the death of the
Pythagorean, having buried, and paid the requisite
attention to his body, had neither any hopes of being
repaid, nor of receiving any recompense from some one
who might read the table. At the same time, however,
being surprised at the request of the Pythagorean, he
was induced t o expose the writing in the public road.
A long time after, therefore, a certain Pythagorean
passing that way, having understood the symbol, and
learnt who it was that placed the table there, and
having also investigated every particular, paid the inn-
keeper a much greater sum of money than he had
disbursed.
It is likewise related of Clinias the Tarentine, that
when he had learnt that Prorus the Cvrenaean, who
was zealously addicted t o the pythago;ean doctrines,
was in danger of losing all his property, he sailed to
Cyrene, after having collected a sum of money, and
restored the affzirs of Prorus t o a better condition,
not only incurring, in so doing, a diminution of his
own property, but despising the peril which he was
exposed to in the voyage. After the same manner
..
alsb, Thestor Posidoniates, having learnt from report
alone, that Thymaridas Parius the Pythagorean had
fallen into poverty, from the possession of great wealth,
is said to have sailed t o Parus, after having collected a
large sum of money, and thus reinstated Thymaridas
in property. These therefore are beautiful instances
of friendship. 7 h r decisions, however, of the Pytha-
gorean, respecting the commu~rion of divine goods, the
concord of intellect, and things pertaining to a divine
soul, are much more admirable than the ubove exampks.
or. they pe~ppetually exhorted each ot he~, not t o di&e
thc God within them. Hence all the zndeavour of their
friendship both in deeds and words, was directed to a
certain divine mixture, t o a union wit6 divinity, and to
u communion with intellect and a divine soul. But it
is not possible to find any thing better than this, either
in what is uttered by words, or performed by deeds.
For I am of opinion, that all the goods of friendship
are comprehended in this. Hence, as we have collected
in this, as in a summit, all the prerogatives of the
Pythagoric friendship, we shall omit to say any thing
further about it.
CHAP. XXXIV.
SINCE, however, we have thus generally, and with
arrangement, discussed what pertains to Pythagoras
and the Pythagoreans; let us after this narrate such
scattered particulars relative t o this subject, as do not.
fall under the above-mentioned order. It is said, there-
fore, that each of the Greeks who joined himself t o
this community of the Pythagorcans, was ordered t o
use his native language. For they did not approve of
the use of a foreign tongue. Foreigners also united
themselves to the Pythagoric sect, viz. the Messenians,
the Lucani, Picentini, and the Romans. And Metro-
dorus the son of Thyrsus who was the father of Epi-
charmus,' and who iransferred the greater part of his
doctrine to medicine, says in explarning the writings
of his father t o his brother, that Epicharmus, and prior
t o him Pythagoras, conceived thaf the best dialect, as
well as the best harmony of music. is the Doric; that
the Ionic and the &olk participate of the chromatic
harmony; but that the Attic dialect is replete with
this in a still greater degree. They were also of
opinion, that the Doric dialect, which consists of vocal
letters, is enharmonic.
~a bl e s likewise bear testimony t o the antiquity of
this dialect. For in these it is said that Nereus
married Doris the daughter of Ocean; by whom he
had fifty daughters, one of which was the mother of
Achilles. Metrodorus also says, that according to some,
Hellen was the offspring of Deucalion, who was the
son of Prometheus and Pyrrha the daughter of Epi-
metheus; and that from him came Dorus, and Zolus.
He farther observes, that he learnt from the sacred
rites of the Babylonians, that Hellen was the offspring
of Jupiter, and that the sons of Hellen were Dorus,
Xuthus, and Eolus ; with which narrations Herodotus
also accords. It is difficult, however, for those in more
recent times to know accurately, in particulars so
ancient, which of these narrations is to be preferred.
But it may be collected from each of these histories,
that the Doric dialect is acknowledged to be the most
ancient ; that the Bolic is next to this, which received
its name from Eolus; and that the Ionic ranks as
the third, which derived its appellation from Ion the
1 The original is, MWd8wpds r r d O;pcrov 706 ?rarphs ' EmXdprrov,
which Obrechtus erroneously translates, " Metrodorus Epicharmi filius
Thyrsi nepos."
125
son of Xuthus. The Attic is the fourth, which was
denominated from Creusa, the daughter of Erectheus,
and is posterior to the former dialects by three genera-
tions, as it existed about the time of the Thracians,
and the rape of Orithyia, as is evident from the testi-
mony of most histories. Orpheus also, who is the
most ancient of the poets, used the Doric dialect.
Of medicine, howkver, they especially embraced the
diretetic species, and in the exercise of this were most
accurate. And in the first place, indeed, they en-
deavoured t o learn the indications of symmetry, of
labor, food. and repose. In the next * place, -with
respect to the pep&ation of food, they bere 'nearly
the first who attempted t o employ themselves in it,
and t o define the &ode in which' it should be
formed. The Pythagoreans likewise employed cata-
plasms, more frequently than their predecessors ; but
thev in a less de ~r e e avvroved of medicated ointments.
0
~h k s e , however. the; 'principally used in the cure of
' . a
ulcerations. Bi t inc~sions a i d bkrninps thev admitted
a
the least of all things. Some diseases also ;hey cured
bv incantatfons. Bi t thev are said to have dbiected
t h those who expose disiiplines to sale; wh; open
their souls like the gates of an inn to everv man that
approaches to the;; and who, if thev do not thus
find buyers, diffuse themselves through4cities, and, in
short, hire gymnasia and require a reward from young
men for those things which are without price. Pytha-
goras, however, concealed the meaning of much that
was said by him, in order that those who were genuinely
instructed niight clearly be partakers of it ; but that
others, as Homer says of Tantalus, might be ~ai ne d
in the midst of what they heard, in consequence of
receiving no delight from thence.
I think also, it was said by the Pythagoreans, respect-
ing those who teach for the sake ~f reward, that they
show themselves t o be worse than statuaries, or those
artists who perform their work sitting. For these,
when some one orders them to make a statue of Hermes,
search for wood adapted to the reception of the proper
form; but those pretend that they can readily produce
the works of virtue from every iature.1 The Pytha-
goreans likewise said, that it is more necessary to pay
attention to philosophy, than to parents and agricul-
ture; for it is owing to the latter, indeed, that we
live: but ~hilosovhers and vreceptors are the causes of
our iivingAwell, &d becornkg wise, in consequence of
having discovered the right mode of discipline and
instruction. Nor did the; think fit either to sveak or
w r i ~ in such a way, rhaitheir conceptions might be
obvious t o any casual persons; but Pythagoras is said
t o have taught this in the first place to those that came
t o him, that, being purified f r ok all incontinence, they
should preserve in silence the doctrines they had
heard. i t is said, therefore, that he who first di;ulged
the theory of commensurable and incommensurable
quantities, to those who were unworthy to receive it,
was so hated by the Pythagoreans that they not only
expelled him from their common association, and from
li4ng with them,' but also constructed a tomb for him,
as one who had migrated from theahurnan and passed
into another life. Others also sav, that the Divine
Power was indignant with those'who divulged the
dogmas of Pythagoras: for that he perished in the sea,
as an impious person, who rendered manifest the com-
position of the icortagonus; viz. who delivered the
method of inscribing in a sphere the dodecaedron,
which is one of what are called the five solid figures.
This observation applies also ro those of the present day, who,
from a profound ignorance of human nature, attempt to enlighten by
education the lowest class of mankind. For this, as I have elsewhere
observed, is an attempt to break the golden chain of beings, to dis-
organise society, and to render the vulgar dissatisfied with the servile
situations in which God and nature intended them to be placed.
See p. 73. of the introduction to my translation of Select Works of
Plotinus.
But according t o others, this happened t o him who un-
folded the doctrine of irrational and incommensurable
quantities.' Moreover, all the Pythagoric discipline
was symbolic, and resembled enigmas and riddles, con-
sisting of apothegms, in consequence of imitating
antiquity in its character; just as the truly divine and
Pythian oracles appear t o be in a certain respect diffi-
cult to be understood and explained, t o those who care-
lessly receive the answers 'which - they give. Such
therefore, and so many are the indications respecting
Pythagoras and the Pythagoreans, which may be col-
lected from what is disseminated about them.
CHAP. XXXV.
THERE were, however, certain persons who were
hostile t o these men, and rose against them. That
stratagems therefore were employid t o destroy them,
during the absence of Pythagoras, is universally
acknowledged; but those that have written on this
subject, dike; in their account of the journey which
he then undertook. For some say that he went t o
Pherecydes the Syrian, but others t o Metapontum.
Many causes, however, of the stratagems are enu-
merated. And one of them, which is said t o have
originated from the men called Cylonians, was as
follows: Cylon the Crotonian held the first place
among the citizens for birth, renown, and wealth; but
otherwise, he was a severe, violent, and turbulent man,
and of tyrannical manners. He had, however, the
greatest desire of being made a partaker of the Pythago-
ric life, and having applied himself t o Pythagoras, who
was now an elderly man,2 for this purpose, was rejected
This also is asserted, as I have before observed, in the Scholia on
the 10th book of Commandine's edition of Euclid's Elements, p. 122.
Obrechtus has
omitted to translate the words +arl rrpcapv'mp
&a, " being now an elderly man."
by him on account of the above-mentioned causes. I n
consequence of this, therefore, he and his friends
exercised violent hostilities against Pythagoras and his
disciples. So vehement likewise and immoderate was
the ambition of Cylon, and of those who arranged
themselves on. his side, that it extended itself t o the
very last of the Pythagoreans. Pythagoras, therefore,
for this cause went t o Metapontum, and there is said
t o have terminated his life. But those who were
called the Cylonians continued t o form stratagems
against the Pythagoreans, and t o exhibit indications
of all possible malevolence. Nevertheless, for a certain
time the probity of the Pythagoreans subdued [this
enmity,] and also the decision of the cities themselves,
so that they were willing that their political concerns
should be managed by the Pythagoreans [alone]. At
length, however, the Cylonians became so hostile t o
the men,' that setting fire t o the house of Milo in
which the Pythagoreans were seated, and were con-
sulting about warlike concerns; they burnt all the
men except two, Archippus and Lysis. For these being
in perfect vigour, and most robust, escaped out of the
house. But this taking place, and no mention being
made by the multitude of the calamity which had
happened, the Pythagoreans ceased t o pay any further
attention t o the affairs of government. This however
happened through two causes, through the negligence
of the cities (for they were not a t all affected by so great
a calamity taking place) and through the loss of those
men who were most qualified t o govern. But of the
two Pythagoreans that were saved, and both of whom
were Tarentines, Archip pus indeed returned to Taren-
tum; but Lysis hating the negligence [of the cities]
went into Greece, and dwelt in the Achaia of Pelo-
ponnesus. Afterwards, he migrated t o Thebes, being
1 In the original d~par oc, which Obrechtus veryerroneously translates
impotenr.
a i.e. To the Pythagoreans.
stimulated by a certain ardent desire [of retreating
thither]; and there he had for his auditor Epaminondas,
who called Lysis his father. There also Lysis terminated
his life. But the rest of the Pythagoreans, except
Archytas of Tarenturn, departed from Italy, and beiig
collected together in Rhenium, there dwelt with each
other. he most celebraTted of them, however, were
Phanto, Echecrates, Polymnastus, and ~i ocl es, who
were Phlyasians; and Xenophilus Chalc-idensis of
Thrace. But in the course of time, when the admin-
istration of public affairs proceeded into a worse con-
dition, thes; ~yt ha~or ean; nevertheless preserved their
pristine manners and disciplines, though the sect began
t o fail, till it generously perished. These things, there-
fore, are narrated by Aristoxenus.
Nicomachus, however, in other respects accords with
Aristoxenus, but as t o the journey of Pythagoras, he
says that this stratagem took place, while Pythagoras
was at Delos. For he went there, in order t o give
assistance t o his preceptor Pherecydes the Syrian who
was then afflicted with the morbus pedicularis, and
when he died, performed the necessary funeral rites.
Then, therefore, those who had been rejected by the
Pythigoreans, aad t o whom monuments had been
raised, as if they were dead, attacked them, and com-
mitted all of them t o the flames. Afterwards, they
were overwhelmed by the Italians with stones, and
thrown out of the house unburied. At that time,
therefore, it happened that science failed together with
those who possessed scientific knowledge, because till
that period, it was preserved by them in their breasts
as something arcane and ineffahle. Rut such things
only as were difficult t o be understood, and which were
no; unfolded, were preserved in the memory of those
who did not belong t o the Pythagorean sect; a few
things excepted, which certain Pythagoreans, who
happened at that time t o be in foreign lands, preserved
as certain sparks of science very obscure and of difficult
investigation. These also, being left by themselves,
and not moderately dejected by the calamity, were
scattered in different places, and no longer endured t o
have any communion with the rest of mankind. But
they liied alone in solitary places, wherever they
happened t o meet with them; and each greatly pre-
ferred an association with himself t o that with any
other person.
Fearing, however, lest the name of philosophy should
be entirely exterminated from mankind, and that they
should on this account incur the indignation of the
Gods, by suffering so great a gift of theirs t o perish, they
made an arrangement of certain commentaries and
symbols, and likewise, collected together the writings
of the more ancient Pythagoreans, and of such things
as they remembered. These, each left at his death to
his son, or daughter, or wife, with a strict injunction
not t o give them t o any one out of the family. This
mandate therefore, was for a long time observed, and
was transmitted in succession t o their posterity.
Since, however, Apollonius dissents in a certain place
respecting these particulars, and adds many things
which we have not mentioned, we shall also insert his
narration of the stratagem employed against the Pytha-
goreans. He says, therefore, that the envy of others
attended Pythagoras from his childhood. For as long
as he conversed with all that came t o him, he was
pleasing to them; but when he associated with his
disciples alone, the favourable opinion which the
multitude entertained of him was diminished. And
they permitted him indeed, t o pay more attention t o
strangers than to themselves; but they were indignant
at his preferring some of their fellow-citizens before
others, and they apprehended that his disciples
assembled together with intentions hostile t o them. I n
the next place, as the young men that were indignant
with him were of high rank, and surpassed others in
wealth, and when they arrived at a proper age, not only
held the first honors in their own families, but also
managed the affairs of the city in common, they
formed a large body of men (for they were more than
three hundred in number) and in consequence of this
there was but a small of the city, which was not
conversant with the same manners and the same pur-
*
suits as they were.
~or e ov&, as long as the Crotonians continued in
their own country, a n d Pythagoras dwelt with them,
that form of government remained which had been
established when the city was founded, but which was
not pleasing t o the pe~pi e, and therefoie induced them
t o seek an occasion of producing a change. When
therefore Sybaris was captured, and the land taken in
the war was not divided by lot, according t o the desire
of the multitude, their silent hatred of the Pythagoreans
burst forth, and the opulace separated themselves
P from them. But the eaders of this dissension were
those that were most near t o the Pythagoreans, both
by alliance and familiarity. The cause however of the
discord was this, that many of the actions of the
Pythagoreans off knded these' leaders, as well as casual
perso&, because these actions had something peculiar
in them when compared with those of others. But in
the greatest of the'se actions they conceived that dis-
grace befel themselves alone.
-
Farther still, no one of the Pythagoreans called
Pythagoras by his name, but while he was alive, when
they wished t o denote him, they called him divine;
and after his death they denomihated him that man;
just as Homer represents Eumaeus when he makes
mention of Ulysses, saying,
Him, tho' he's absent, yet I fear, 0 guest,
To name; such is the greatness of my love and care.
Conformably likewise t o the precepts of their master,
the Pythagoreans always rose from bed before t ht
rising of the sun; and never wore a ring in which the
image of God was engraved. They also carefully
observed t o adore the rising sun, and avoided wearing
a ring of the above mentioned description, lest they
should have it about them a t funerals, or in some
impure place. I n a similar manner, they were
attentive t o the mandate of Pythagoras, not t o do any
thing without previous deliberation and disquisition;
but to form a plan in the morning of what ought to be
done [in the course of the day,] and at night t o call t o
mind the actions of the day, by this means a t one and
the same time exploring their conduct, and exercising
their memory. Thus too, they observed the precept,
that if any one of their associkes appointed ;o meet
them at a certain place, they should stay there till he
came, through the day and the night; in this again,
the Pythagoreans being accustomed to remember what
was said, and not to speak casually. In short Pythagoras
ordered them t o be attentive t o order and method as
long as they lived, and not to blaspheme at the time of
death, but t o die with propitious words, such as are
used by those who are sailing out of port into the
Adriatic sea2
The kindred of the Pythagoreans however, were
indignant that the Pythagoreans gave their right hand
t o those of their own sect alone, their parents excepted;
and that they shared their possessions with each other
in common, but excluded their relations from this
fellowship, as if they were strangers. These, therefore,
becoming the sources of the dissension, the rest readily
fell into hostility against the Pythagoreans. Hippasus,
also, Diodorus and Theages said a t the same time, that
citizen ought to bg a partaker of thc magistracy
and the assembly, and that the rulers should give an
account of their conduct, t o those who were elected
by lot for this purpose from the multitude. But the
1 The whole of this paragraph, the greater part of which is a
repetition of what has been said elsewhere, does not certainly belong
to this place.
Pythagoreans, Alcimachus, Dimachus, Meton and
Democedes opposed this, and persevered in prohibiting
the dissolution of the polity derived from their ancestors.
Those however, who patronized the multitude, sub-
dued the other party. The multitude therefore, being
assembled together, CyIon and Ninon who were
rhetoricians accused the Pythagoreans. And of these,
one belonged t o the class of the rich, but the other was
a plebeian. They also divided their harangues between
themselves. But of these harangues, the longer being
delivered by Cylon, Ninon concluded, pretending that
he had explored the arcana of the Pythagoreans, and
that he had connected and committed t o writing such
particulars as were especially calculated to criminate
the Pythagoreans, and giving a book t o ascribe, he
ordered him to read it. But the book was inscribed
the Sacred Discourse. And the following is a specimen
of what it contained: Friends are t o be venerated in
the same manner as the Gods; but others are t o be
treated as brutes. This very sentence also is ascribed
t o Pythagoras by his disciple;, and is by them expressed
in verse as follows:
He like the blessed Gods his friends rever'd,
But reckon'd other men of no account.
Homer, too, especially deserves t o be praised for calling
a king the ~hepherd of the people. For being a friend to
that government in which the rulers are few, he evinced
by this epithet that the rest of men are cattle. T o
beans it is requisite to be hostile, as being the leaders
of decision by lot; for by these men were allotted the
administration of affairs. Again, empire should be the
object of desire: for they proclaim that it is better t o
be one day a bull, than to be an ox for ever. That the
legal institutes of others are laudable; but that they
should be exhorted to use those which are known t o
themselves. I n one word, Ninon showed that their
philosophy was a conspiracy against the multitude, and
therefore exhorted them not t o hear the counsellors, but
t o consider that they would never have been admitted
into the assembly, if the council of the Pythagoreans
had been approved by the session of a thousand men;
so that it was not fit to suffer those to speak, who pre-
vented to the utmost of their power others from being
heard. He observed, therefore, that they should con-
sider the right hand which was rejected by the Pythago-
reans, as hostile to them, when they gave their suffrages
by an extension of the hands, or calculated the number
of the votes. That they should also consider it to be
a disgraceful circumstaice, that they who conquered
thirty myriads of men at the river Tracis, should be
vanquished by a thousandth part of the same number
through sedition in the city itself. In short Ninon so
exasperated his hearers by his calumnies, that in a few
days after, a great multitude assembled together intend-
ing t o attack the Pythagoreans as they were sacrificing
t o the Muses in a house near to the temple of Apollo.
The Pythagoreans, however, foreseeing that this would
take place, fled t o an inn; but Democedes, with those
that had arrived at puberty, withdrew to Platea. And
those that had dissolved the laws made a decree in
which they accused Democedes of compelling the
younger part of the community to the possession of
empire, and proclaimed by a cryer that thirty talents
should be given t o any one who destroyed him. An
engagement also taking place, and Theages having
vanquished Democedes in that contest, they distributed
t o him the thirty talents which the city had promised.
But as the city, and the whole region were involved in
many evils, the exiles were brought to judgment, and
the power of decision being given to three cities, viz.
t o the Tarentines, Metapontines, and the Caulonians,
those that were sent by them t o determine the cause
were corrupted by money, as we learn from the
chronicles of the Crotonians. Hence the Crotonians
condemned by their own decision those that were
accused, t o exile. I n consequence, too, of this decision,
and the authority which it conferred on them, they
expelled all those from the city, who were dissatisfied
with the existing state of affairs, and a t the same time
banished all thcir families, asserting that it was not
fit t o be impious, and that children ought not t o be
divulsed from their parents. They likewise abolished
loans, and made the land to be undivided?
an^ years after this, when Dinarchus and his
associates were slain in another battle, and Litagus also
was dead, who had been the greatest leader of the
seditious, a certain pity and repentance induced the
citizens to recall those Pythagoreans that were left,
from exile. For this purpose, they sent ambassadors
from Achaia, and through them became amicable with
the exiles, and consecrated their oaths a t Delphi. But
the pythagoreans who returned from exile wire about
sixty in number, except those who were of a more
advanced age, among which were some who applied
themselves to medicine, and restored health to those
that were sick by a certain diet; of which method of
cure thev were themselves the authors. It h a ~ ~ e n e d
J I I
however, that those Pythagoreans who were saved, and
who were particularly celebrated by the multitude, a t
that time in which it was said t o the lawless, This is
not the condition of things which was under Ninon ;-
these same Pythagorean~ having left the city in order
to procure assistance against the Thurians who invaded
the country, perished in battle, mutually defending
each other. But the city was so changed into a con-
trary opinion [of the Pythagoreans,] that besides the
praise which it bestowed on them, it apprehended that
it would gratify the Muses in a still greater degree, if
it performed a public sacrifice in the teniple of the
Muses, which at the request of the Pythagoreans, they
had before constructed in honor of those Goddesses.
In the original, ~a' l r;jv y l v dvd6aaov i ~ o i q u a v , which Obrechtus
erroneously translates, " et agrorum divisionem introduxerunt."
And thus much concerning the attack which was made
on the Pythagoreans.
CHAP. XXXVI.
THE successor, however, of Pythagoras, is acknow-
ledged by all men to have been Aristaeus, the son of
Damophon the Crotonian, who existing at the same
time as Pythagoras, was seven ages prior t o Plato.
Aristaeus likewise, was not only thought worthy to
succeed Pythagoras in his school, but also to educate
his children, and marry his wife Theano, because he
was eminently skilled in the Pythagoric dogmas. For
Pythagoras himself is said to have taught in his school,
forty years wanting one, and to have lived nearly one
hundred years. But Aristaeus, when much advanced
in years,' relinquished the school; and after him
Mnesarchus succeeded, who was the son of Pythagoras.
Bulagoras succeeded Mnesarchus, in whose time it
happened that the city of the Crotonians was plundered.
Gartydas the Crotonian succeeded Bulagoras, on his
return from a journey which he had undertaken prior
t o the war. Nevertheless on account of the calamity
of his country, he suffered so much anxiety, as t o die
prematurely through grief. But it was the custom
with the rest of the Pythagoreans, when they became
very old, t o liberate themselves from the body as from
a prison.
Moreover, some time after, Aresas Lucanus, being
saved through certain strangers, undertook the manage-
ment of the school; and t o him came Diodorus
Aspendius, who was received into the school, on
account of the paucity of the Pythagoreans it contained.
And in Heraclea, indeed, were Clinias and Philolaus;
but at Metapontum, Theorides and Eurytus; and at
Tarentum Archytas. It is also said that Epicharmus
was one of the foreign auditors; but that he was not
one of the school. Having however arrived a t Syracuse,
he abstained from philosophizing openly, on account of
the tyranny of Hiero. But he inserted the conceptions
of the men in metre, and published in comedies the
occult dogmas of Pythagoras.
Of all the Pythagoreans, however, it is probable that
many are unknown and anonymous. But the following
are the names of those that are known and celebrated:
Of the Crotonians, Hippostratus, Dymas, Bgon, Emon,
Sillus, Cleosthenes, Agelas, Episylus, Phyciadas, Ecphan-
tus, Timaus, Buthius, Eratus, Itmaus, Rhodippus,
Bryas, Evandrus, Myllias, Antimedon, Ageas, Leophron,
Agylus, Ona tus, Hippos thenes, Cleophron, Akmaon,
Damocles, Milon, Menon. Of the Metapontines,
Brontinus, Parmiseus, Orestadas, Leon, Damarmenus,
Eneas, Chilas, Melisias, Aristeas, Laphion, Evandrus,
Agesidamus, Xenocades, Euryphemus, Aristomenes,
Agesarchus, Alceas, Xenophantes, Thraseus, Arytus,
Epiphron, Eiriscus, Megistias, Leocydes, Thrasymedes,
Euphemus, Procles, Antimenes, Lacritus, Damotages,
Pyrrho, Rhexibius, Alopecus, Astylus, Dacidas, Alio-
chus, Lacrates, Glycinus. Of the Agrigentines, Empe-
docles. Of the Eleatae, Parmenides. Of the Taren-
tines, Philolaus, Eurytus, Archytas, Theodorus, Aris-
tippus, Lycon, Hestiaeus, Polemarchus, Asteas, Clinias,
Clron, Eurymedon, Arceas, Clinagoras, Archippus,
Zopyrus, Euthynus, Dicaearchus, Philonidas, Phron-
tidas, Lysis, Lysibius, Dinocrates, Echecrates, Paction,
Acusiladas, Icmus, Pisicrates, Clearatus.
Of the Leontines, Phrynic hus, Smichias, Aris toclidas,
Clinias, Abroteles, Pisyrrhydus, Bryas, Evandrns, Arche-
machus, Mimnomachus, Achmonidas, Dicas, Caro-
phantidas. Of the Sybarites, Metopus, Hippasus,
Proxenus, Evanor, Deanax, Menestor, Diocles, Empe-
dus, Timasius, Polemaeus, Evzus, Tyrsenus. Of the
Cart haginians, Miltiades, Anthen, Odius, Leocritus.
Of the Parians, Betius, Phaenecles, Dexitheus, Alci-
machus, Dinarchus, Meton, Timreus, Timesianax,
Amaerus, Thymaridas. Of the Locrians, Gyptius,
Xenon, Philodamus, Evetes, Adicus, Sthenonidas,
Sosistratus, Euthynus, Zaleucus, Timares. Of the
Posidonians, Athamas, Simus, Proxenus, Cranous, Myes,
Bathylaus, Phzdon. Of the Lucani, Ocellus and
Occillus who were brothers, Oresandrus, Cerambus,
Dardaneus, Malion. Of the Egeans, Hippomedon,
Timosthenes, Euelthon, Thrasydamus, Crito, Polyctor.
Of the Lacones, Autocharidas, Cleanor, Eurycrates.
Of the Hyperboreans, Abaris. Of the Rheginenses,
Aris tides, Demos thenes, Aristocrat es, Phytius, Heli-
caon, Mnesibulus, Hipparchides, Athosion, Euthycles,
Opsimus. Of the Selinuntians, Calais. Of the Syra-
cusans, Leptines, Phintias, Damon. Of the Samians,
Melissus, Lacon, Archippus, Glorippus, Heloris, Hippon.
Of the Caulonienses, Callibrotus, Dicon, Nastas, Dry-
mon, Xentas. Of the Phliasians, Diocles, Echecrates,
Polymnastus, Phanton. Of the Sicyonians, Poliades,
Demon, Sostratius, Sosthenes. Of the Cyrenzans,
Prorus, Melanippus, Aristangelus, Theodorus. Of the
Cyziceni, Pythodorus, Hipposthenes, Butherus, Xeno-
philus. Of the Catanaei, Charondas, Lysiades. Of the
Corinthians, Chrysippus. Of the Tyrrhenians, Nau-
sitheus. Of the Athenians, Neocritus. And of Pontus,
Lyramnus. I n all, two hundred and eighteen. [ ~ n d
these, indeed, are not all the Pythagoreans, but of all
of them they are the most famous.l]
But the most illustrious Pythagorean women are
Timycha, the wife of Myllias the Crotonian. Philtis,
the daughter of Theophrius the Crotonian. Byndacis,
the sister of Ocellus and Occillus, Lucanians. Chilonis,
the daughter of Chilon the Lacedaemonian. Cratesiclea
the Lacedaemonian, the wife of Cleanor the Lace-
dzmonian. Theano, the wife of Brontinus of Meta-
pontum. Mya, the wife of Milon the Crotonian.
The words within the brackets are from a Latin Manuscript,
which was in the possession of Fabricius.
I 3 9
Lasthenia the Arcadian. Abrotelia, the daughter of
Abroteles the Tarentine. Echecratia the Phliasian.
Tyrsenis, the Sybarite. Pisirrhonde, the Tarentine.
Nisleadusa, the Lacedaemonian. Bryo, the Argive.
Babelyma, the Argive. And Cleaechma, the sister of
Autocharidas the Lacedzmonian. In all seventeen.
FRAGMENTS
OF THE
ETHICAL WRITINGS
OF CERTAIN
PYTHAGOREANS.
FROM
HIPPODAMUS, THE THURIAN,
IN HIS TREATISE
ON FELICITY.
OF animals, some are the recipients of felicity, but
others are incapable of receiving it. And those animals,
indeed, are receptive of it that have reason. For feli-
city cannot subsist without virtue; and virtue is first
ingenerated in that which possesses reason. But those
admals are incapable of ieceiving felicity, that are
destitute of reason. For neither can that which is
deprived of sight, receive the work or the virtue of
sight; nor can that which is destitute of reason, be
the recipient of the work, or the virtue of that which
possesses reason. With respect t o felicity, however,
and virtue, the former is as a work, but the latter as a
certain art, to that which possesses reason. But of
animals which possess reason, some are self-perfect, and
these are such as are perfect through themselves, and
are indigent of nothing external, either t o their exist-
ence, or t o their existing well and beautifully. And
such, indeed, is God. Those animals, however, are
not self-perfect, which are not perfect through them-
selves, but are in want of external causes to their per-
fection. And man is an animal of this kind. Of
animals, therefore, which are not self-perfect, some
indeed are perfect, but others are not perfect. And
those indeed are perfect which derive their subsistence
both from their'own [proper] causes, and from ex-
ternal causes. And they derive it indeed from their
I43
own causes, because they obtain from thence both an
excellent nature and deliberate choice; but from ex-
ternal causes, because they receive from thence equitable
legislation and good rulers. But the animals which
are not perfect, are either such as participate of neither
of these, or of some one of these, or whose souls are
entirely depraved. And such will the man be who is of
a description different from the above.
Moreover, of perfect men there are two differences.
For some of them are naturally perfect; but others
are perfect according to life. And those indeed alone
that are good, are naturally gerfect. But these are
such as possess virtue. For t e virtue of the nature
of every thing is a summit and perfection. Thus the
virtue of the eye is the summit and perfection of the
nature of the eye. But the virtue of man is the sum-
mit and perfection of the nature of man. Those also
are perf<ct according t o life, who are not only good,
but happy. For felicity, indeed, is the perfection of
human life. But human life is a system of actions:
and felicity gives completion t o th; actions. Virtue
also and fortune give completion t o actions; virtue,
indeed, according to use; but good fortune according
to prosperity. God therefore is neither good through
learning virtue from any one, nor is he happy through
being attended by good fortune. For he is good by
nature, and happy by nature, and always was and will
be, and will never cease to be, such; since he is incor-
ruptible, and naturally good. But man is neither
happy nor good by nature, but requires discipline and
~rovidential care. And in order to become good, in-
A
deed, he requires virtue; but in order to becoge happy,
good fortune. On this account, human felicity sum-
marily consists of these two things, viz. of praise, and
the predication of beatitude. Of praise indeed, from
virtue; but of the predication of beatitude, from pros-
perity. It possesses virtue therefore, through a divine
destiny, but prosperity through a mortal allotment.
But mortal are suspended from divine concerns, and
terrestrial from such as are celestial. Things subordi-
nate, also, are suspended from such as a r e more ex-
cellent. And on -this account, the good man who
follows the Gods is happy; but he who follows mortal
natures is miserable. For to him who possesses wisdom,
prasperity is good and useful. It Is good, indeed,
through his knowledge of the use of i t ; but it is useful,
through his co-operating with actions. It is beautiful,
therefore, when prosperity is present with intellect,
and when sailing as it were with a prosperous wind,
actions are performed looking to virtue; just as a
pilot looks to the motions of the stars. For thus, he
who does this will not only follow God, but will also
co-arrange human with divine good.
This also is evident, that [human] life becomes
different from disposition and action. But it is neces-
sary that the disposition should be either worthy or
depraved; and that action should be attended either
with felicity or misery. And a worthy disposition,
indeed, participates of virtue; but a bad one of vice.
With respect t o actions, also, those that are prosperous
are attended with felicity; (for they derive their com-
pletion through looking t o reason) but those that are
unfortunate, are attended with misery; for they are
frustrated of the end. Hence, it is not only necessary
t o learn virtue, but also t o possess and use it, either
for security, or increase, [of property when it is too
little] or, which is the greatest thing of all, for the
emendation of families and cities. For it is not only
necessary to have the possession of things beautiful, b i t
also thc use of them. All these things, however, will
take place, when a man lives in a city that uses equit-
able laws. And these, indeed, I say, are what is called
the horn of Amalthea. For all things are contained
in equitable legislation. And without this, the greatest
good of human nature can neither be effected, nor,
when effected, be increased and become permanent.
For this comprehends in itself virtue, and the tendency
to virtue ; because excellent nat Ges are
according7 to it. Manners, likewise, studies, and laws,
subsist through this in the most excellent condition;
and besides. Fhese, rightly-deciding reason, and
and sanctity towards the most honorable natures. So
that it is iecessary that he who is to be happy, and
whose life is to be prosperous, should live and die in a
country governed by equitable laws, relinquishing all
illegality. At the same time what has been said is
attended with necessity. For man is a part of society,
and hence from the same reasoning, will become entire
and perfect, if he not only associates with others, but
associates in a becoming manner. For some things are
naturally adapted to subsist in many things, and not
in one thing; others in one thing, and not in many;
but others both in many, and in one thing, and on
this account in one thing, because in many. For
harmony, indeed, and symphony and number, are
naturally adapted to be ingenerated in many things.
For nothing which makes a whole from these parts, is
sufficient to itself.' But acuteness of seeing and hear-
ing, and swiftness of feet, subsist in one thing alone.
Felicity, however, and the virtue of soul, subsist both
in one thing and in many, in a whole, and in the uni-
verse. And on this account they subsist in one thing,
because they also subsist in many: and they subsist
in many, because they are inherent in a whole and in
the universe. For the orderly distribution of the
whole nature of things methodically arranges each
particular. And the orderly distribution of particu-
lars gives completion to the whole of things and to
the universe. But this follows from the whole being
naturally prior to the part, and not the part to the
In the original, oir8Ev ycip ahoi prcr~, o rom&v t Gv popiov ?rorr; t6
ZXov. This Canter erroneously translates, " Quandoquidem horum
nuUa pars totum queat constituere." And Gale has not noticed the
error.
whole. For if the world was not, neither the sun nor
the moon would exist, nor the planets, nor the fixed
stars. But the world existing, each of these also
exists.
The truth of this also may be seen in the nature
itself of animals. For if animal had no existence, there
would neither be eye, nor mouth, nor ear. But animal
existing, each of ihese likewise exists. As the whole,
however, is to the part, so is the virtue of the whole
to the virtue of th; part. For harmony not existing,
and a divine inspection of mundane affairs, things which
are adorned would no longer be able to remain in an
excellent condition. ~ n a equitable legislation not
existing in a city, it is not possible for a citizen t o be
good or happy. Health, likewise, not existing in the
animal, it is not possible for the foot or the hand to be
strong i nd healthy. For harmony indeed is the virtue
of the world; equitable legislation is the virtue of a
city; and health and strength are the virtue of the
body. Each of the parts likewise in these things is
co-arranged on account of the whole and the universe.
For the ;yes see on account of the whole body. And
the otherg parts and members are co-arranged for the
sake of' the whole [body] and the universe.
FROM
EURYPHAMUS,
IN HIS TREATISE
CONCERNING HUMAN LIFE.
THE perfect life of man falls short indeed of the life
of id, because i t is not self-perfect, but surpasses
that of irrational animals, because it participates of
virtue and felicity. For neither is God in want of
external causes; since being naturally good and happy,
he is ~er f ect from himself; nor any irrational animal.
For 6rutes being destitute of reason, they are also
destitute of the sciences pertaining t o actions. But
the nature of man partlyaconsists %f his own proper
deliberate choice, and partly is in want of the assistance
derived from di;inity: F& that which is capable of
being fashioned by reason, which has an intellectual
perception of things beautiful and base, can erectly
extend itself from earth, and look t o heaven, and can
perceive with the eye of intellect the highest Gods,-
that which is capable of all this, participates likewise
of assistance from the Gods. But in consequence of
possessing will, deliberate choice, and a prihciple of
such a kind in itself as enables it to study virtue, and
t o be agitated by the storms of vice, to foilow, and also
t o apostatize from the Gods,-it is likewise able t o be
moved by itself. Hence it is a partaker of praise and
blame, hbnor and ignominy, par;ly from t h d ~ o d s and
partly from men, according as it zealously applies itself
either to virtue or vice. For the whole reason of the
thing is as follows : Divinity introduced man into the
world as a most exquisite animal, to be reciprocally
148
honored with himself, and as the eye of the orderly
distribution of things. Hence also man gave names t o
things, becoming himself the character of them. He
likewise invented letters, procuring through these a
treasury of memory. And he imitated the established
order df the univeise, co-harmonizing by judicial pro-
ceedings and laws the communion of cities. For no
work isperformed by men more decorous t o the world,
or more worthy of the notice of the Gods, than the
apt constitution of a city governed by good laws, and
an orderly distribution of laws and a polity. For
though each man himself by himself is nothing, and
is not himself by himself sufficient to lead a life con-
formable to the common concord, and apt composition
of a polity, yet he is well adapted to the whole and t o
the perfect system of society. For the life of man is
the image of a lyre accurately [harmonized,] and in
every respect perfect. For every lyre requires these
three things, apparatus, apt composition, and a certain
musical contrectation. And apparatus indeed, is a
preparation of all the appropriate parts; viz. of the
chords, and of the instruments which co-operate with
the well-sounding and striking of the lyre. But the
apt composition of the commixture of the sounds with
each other. And the musical contrectation is the
motion of these conformably t o the apt composition.
Thus also human life requires these same three things.
Apparatus, indeed, which is the completion of the
parts of life. But the parts of life are the goods of
the body, of riches, renown, and friends. The apt
composition is the co-arrangement of these according
to virtue and the laws. And the musical contrecta-
tion is the commixture of these conformably to virtue
and the laws ; virtue sailing with a prosp&ous wind,
and having nothing externally resisting it. For
felicity does not consist in being driven from the purpose
of voluntary intentions, but in obtaining them; nor in
virtue being without attendants and ministrant aids ;
but in completely possessing its own proper powers
which are adapted t o actions. For man is not self-
perfect, but I'mperfect. And he becomes perfect,
partly from himself, and partly from an external
cause. He is likewise perfect, either according t o
nature, or according t o life. And he is perfect indeed
according t o nature, if he becomes a good man. For
the virtue of each thing is the summit and perfection
of the nature of that thing. Thus the virtue of
the eves is the summit and -perfection of the nature
of thk eyes; and this is also irue of the virtue of the
ears. ~ h u s too, the virtue of man is the summit
and perfection of the nature of man. But man is
perfect according t o life, when he becomes happy.
For felicity is the perfection and completion of human
goods. ~ e n c e , aeain, virtue and p;osperity become
the parts of the life of man. And virtue, indeed, is a
par<of him so far as he is soul, but prosperity so far as
he is connected with body. But both are parts of him
so far as he is an animal. For it is the province of
virtue t o use in a becoming manner the goods which are
conformable t o nature; but of prosperity t o impart the
use of them. And the former, indeed, imparts deliber-
ate choice and right reason;'but the laiter, energies
and actions. For t o wish what is beautiful in conduct
and t o endure things of a dreadful nature, is the proper
business of virtue. But it is the work of prosperity t o
render deliberate choice successful, and t o cause actions
t o arrive at the [desired] end. For the general conquers
in conjunction with virtue and good fortune. The
pilot sails well in conjunction with art and prosperous
winds. The eye sees well in conjunction with acuteness
of vision2 and light. And the life of man becomes
most excellent th;ough virtue itself, and prosperity.
1 Gale says in his notes, that after d + b a ~ ~ w v he adds +6crroo, but
he should evidently have added i p c r a , as in the above translation.
In the original u4v re B~ v 8 o p r t l ~ , which Canter very defectively
translates, vidmdi facultate.
FROM
HIPPARCHUS,
I N HIS TREATISE
ON TRANQUILLITY.
SINCE men live but for a very short period, if their
life is compared with the whole of time, they will
make a most beautiful journey as it were, if they pass
through life with tranquillity. This however they will
possess in the most eminent degree, if they accurately
and scientifically know themselves, viz. if they know
that they are mortal and of a fleshly nature, ahd that
they have a body which is corruptible and can be easily
injired, and which is exposed t o every thing most
grievous and severe, even t o their latest breath. And
-
in the first place, let us direct our attention t o those
things which happen to the body; and these are
pleurisy, inflammation of the lungs, phrensy, gout,
stranguary, dysentery, lethargy, epilepsy, putrid ulcers,
and ten thousand other diseases. But the diseases
which happen t o the soul are much greater and more
dire than these. For all the iniquitous, evil, illegal,
- -
and impious conduct in the life of kan, originates from
the pasiions of the soul. For through pretekatural im-
moderate desires many have become subject t o unre-
strained impulses. and have not refrained &om the most
unholy ple;sures, arising from being connected with
daughters or even mothers. Many also have been induced
t o destroy their fathers, and their own offspring. But
what occasion is there t o be prolix in narrating exter-
nally impending evils, such as excessive rain, drought,
violent heat and cold; so that frequently from the
151
anomalous state of the air, estilence and famine are
P
produced, and all-various ca amities, and whole cities
become desolate ? Since therefore many such-like cala-
mities are irripendent, we should neither be elevated
by the possessibn of corporeal goods, which may rapidly
be consumed bv the incursions of a small fever, nor
with what are'conceived t o be prosperous external
circumstances, which frequently in their own nature
perish more rapidly than they accede. For all these
are uncertain and unstable, and are found t o have their ..- ~
existence in many and various mutations; and no one
of them is permanent, or immutable, or stable, or in-
divisible. Hence well considering these things, and
also being persuaded, that if what is present and is
u
imparted t o us, is able t o remain fo; the smallest
po;tion of time, it is as much as we ought t o expect;
we shall then live in tranquillity and with hilarity,
generously bearing what ever- may befal us.
Now, however, many previously conceiving in im-
agination, that all that is present with, and imparted
t o them bv nature and fortune, is better than it is,
and not t&nking it t o be such i s it is in reality, but
such as it is able ~o become when it has arrived at the
summit of excellence, they burden the soul with many
great, nefarious, and- stupid evils, when they are sud-
denly deprived of [these evanescent goods]. And thus
it happens t o them that they lead a most bitter and
miserable life. But this takes place in the loss of
riches, or the death of friends or children, or in the
privation of certain other things, which are conceived
by them t o be most honorable p&sessions. Afterwards,
weeping and lamenting, they assert of themselves, that
they alone are most unfortunate and miserable, not
- 4
remembering that these things have happened; and
even now happen, t o many others; nor are they able
t o understand the life of those that are now in existence,
and of those that have lived in former times, nor t o see
in what great calamities and waves of evils, many of
the present time are, and of the past have been involved.
considering with ourselves therefore, that many having
lost their Go~er t v. have afterwards -on account of thG
very loss See; sa<ed, since hereafter they might either
have fallen into the hands of robbers, or into the power
of a tyrant; that many also who have loved ckrtain
persons, and have been benevolently disposed towards
them in the extreme, have afterwards greatly hated
them;-considering all these things, which have been
delivered t o us by history, and likewise learning that
many have been destroyed by their children, and by
those that they have most dearly loved; and comparing
our own life with that of those who have been more
unhappy than we have been, and taking into account
human casualties [in general] and not only such as
happen t o ourselves, we shall pass through life with
greater tranquillity. For it is not lawful that he who
is himself a man, should think the calamities of others
easy to be borne, and not his own, since he sees that
the whole of life is naturally exposed t o many calamities.
Those however, that weep and lament, besides not
being able t o recover whit they have lost, or recal
to lire those that are dead, impd the soul t o greater
~erturbations, in consequence of its being filled with
much depravity. It is requisite therefore, that, being
washed and purified, we should by all possible contri-
vances wipe away our inveterate stains by the reason-
ings of philosophy. But we shall accomplish this by
adhering t o prudence and temperance, being satisfied
with our present circumstances, and not aspiring after
0 - -
many thibgs. For men who procure forathemselves
a gr;at ab;ndance [of external oods], do not consider
that the enioyment of them terminates with the present
life. We bight therefore t o use the goods that are
present; and by the assistance of the beautiful and
ienerable thin& of which philosophy is the source, we
shall be liberated from the insatiable desire of depraved
possessions.
FROM
ARCHYTAS,
IN HIS TREATISE CONCERNING
THE GOOD AND HAPPY MAN.
IN the first place, it is requisite t o know this, that the
good man is not immediately happy from necessity;
but that this is the case with the man who is
both happy and good. For the happy man obtains
both praise and the predication of blessedness; but the
good k a n [so far a s he is good] obtains paise alone.
The praise also arises from virtue; but the predication
of blessedness from good fortune. And the worthy
man, indeed, becomes such from the goods which he
but the happy man is somGtimes deprived
of his felicity. For the power of virtue is perfectly
free. but that of felicity is subject t o restraint. For
long-continued diseases 'of the Gody, and deprivations
of the senses, cause the flourishing condition of felicity
t o waste away. God, however,- differs from a good
man in this, that God indeed not only possesses
virtue genuine and purified from every rn~ital*~assion,
but his power also is unwearied and unrestrained, as
being adapted t o the most venerable and magnificent
production of eternal works. Man indeed, by the
mortal condition of his nature, not only enjoys this
power and this virtue in a less degree; but sometimes
;hrough the want of symmetry1 in the goods which he
possesses, or through powerful custom, or a depraved
nature, or through many other causes, he is unable t o
possess in the exGeme a-good which is perfectly true.
1 For ov pcrplav here, I read bovppc7pla.v.
I54
Since therefore of goods, some are eligible for their
own sakes, and not for the sake of another thing; but
others are eligible for the sake of something else, and
not on their own account ; there is also a certain third
species of goods, which is eligible both on its own
account, and for the sake of another thing. What,
therefore, is the good which is eligible on its own
account, and not for the sake of something else? It
is evident that it is felicity. For we aspire after other
things for the sake of this,but we do noi desire this for
the sake of any thing else. Again, what are those goods
which we desire indeed for the sake of something else,
but which we do not desire on their own account? It
is evident they are such things as are useful, and pre-
eligible goods,;?rhich become &e causes of our obtai6ing
things which are eligible [on their own account]; such
as corporeal labors, exercise, and frictions which are em-
ployed for the sake of a good habit of body; and also
reading, meditation, and study, which are undertaken
for the sake of things beautiful and virtue. But what
are the things whicK are eligible on their own account,
and also for the sake of something else? They are
such things as the virtues, and the habits of them,
deliberate choice and actions, and whatever adheres t o
that which is really beautiful. Hence, that indeed
which is eligible on its own account, and not on
account of something else, is a solitary good and one.
But that which is eligible for 'its own sake, and for the
sake of another thing, is triply divided. For one part
of it indeed subsists about the soul; another about
the body; and another pertains t o externals. And
that which is about the soul, consists of the virtues of
the soul; that which is about the body, of the virtues
of the body; and that which pertains t o externals,
consists of friends, glory, honor, and wealth. There
is likewise a similar reasoning with respect t o that
which is eligible on account of something else. For
one part of it indeed is effective of the goods of the
soul ; another part of it, of the goods of the body;
and that which pertains to externals is the cause of
wealth, glory, hoior, and friendship.
That virtue however happens t o be eligible for its
own sake, is evident from the following considerations.
For if things which are naturally subordinate, I mean
the goods of the body, are eligible for their own sakes,
but the soul is better than the body, it is evident that
we love the goods of the soul on their own account,
and not for the sake of the consequences with which
*
they are attended.
There are likewise three definite times of human
life; one of prosperity; another of adversity; and a
third subsisting between these. Since therefore, he
is a good man who possesses and uses virtue; but he
uses it according t o three seasons; for he uses it either
in adversity, or in prosperity, or in the time between
these; and in adversity indeed he is unha py, but in
li prosperity happy, and in the middle con tion, he is
not happy [though he is not miserable];-this being
the case, it is evident that felicity is nothing else than
the use of virtue in prosperity. We now speak, how-
ever, of the felicity of man. But man is not soul alone,
but is likewise body. For the animal which consists
of both, and that which is constituted from things of
this kind is man. For though the body is naturally
adapted to be the instrument of the soul, yet this as
well as the soul is a part of man [so far as he is an
animal.'] Hence of goods also, some are the goods of
man, but others, of the parts of man. And the good
of man, indeed, is felicity. But of the parts of man,
the good of the soul is prudence, fortitude, justice, and
1 i.e. So far as he is considered as energizing in conjunction with the
body; but so far as he has an energy independent of the body, viz.
so fHr as he is a rational soul, the body is not to be considered as a
part of his essence. And the energy of the rational soul by itself alone,
without any assistance from the corporeal organs, constitutes the true
man, into the definition of which body does not enter.
temperance. And the good of the body is beauty,
health, a good corporeal habit, and excellence of sen-
sation. With respect t o externals however, wealth,
glory, honor, and nobility, are naturally adapted t o be
attendant on man, and t o follow precedaneous goods.
The less, also, ark ministrant to'the greater ioods.
Thus friendship, glory, and wealth, are ministrant both
to the body and the soul; but health, strength, and
excellence of sensation, are subservient t o the soul; and
prudence [i.e. wisdom] and justice are ministrant t o
the intellect of the soul. Intellect, however, i s the
satellite of Deity. For God is the most excellent, and
the leader and ruler of all thinns. And for the sake
of these, it is necessary that Gher goods should be
present. For the general, indeed, is the leader of the
army; the pilot, of the ship; God, of the world; and
intellect, of soul. But prudence is the leader of the
-
felicity pertaining to life. For prudence is nothing else
than the science of the felicity which respects human
life, or the science of the good; which nat;rally pertain
t o man.
And the felicity, indeed, and life of God are most
excellent; but the felicity of man consists of science,
and virtue, and in the third place of prosperity
corporalized. But L mean by science, the wisdom
Canter, in his version of these Pythagoric fragments, uniformly
translates ch6xt a felicitar, contrary to the obvious meaning of the
word, as is evident in this, and many other passages. It is also directly
contrary to what Aristotle says in cap. 13. Lib. 7. of his Nicomachean
Ethics : 6t a SE TO T ~ O U ~ C ~ U ~ Q ~ q s ~ J X V S , 8 0 ~ c t ~ i u i TQWOY civat 77
r wuxt a TY r u8 a ~pov i ~, OUK OVUO- cacL Kai aury virrp/3ahAouuay r pr oSt w
071. i.e. " Because felicity requires fortune, it appears t o some
persons that prosperity is the same with felicity. This however is
not the case ; since prosperity, when i t is excessive, is an impediment
t o felicity." But Canter did not, I believe, pretend to have any
knowledge of philosophy : and Gale, who'did, has not corrected him
in this and many other places in which hc has erred through the
want of this knowledge. Gale however, though verbally learned,
was but a garrulous smatterer in philosophy, as is evident from his
notes on Iamblicbus de Mysteriis.
pertaining t o things divine and demoniacal; and by
prudence, the wisdom pertaining t o human concerns,
and the affairs of life. For it is requisite t o call the
virtues which employ reasonings and demonstrations,
sciences. But it is fit t o denominate virtue ethical,
and the best habit of the irrational part of the soul,
according t o which we are said t o possess certain qualities
ertaining t o manners; viz. by which we are called
iberal, just, and temperate. But it is requisite to call
prosperity, the preter-rational presence of goods, [or
a supply of goods without the assistance of reason,]
and which is not effected on account of it. Since
therefore virtue and science are in our power, but
~r o s ~e r i t v is not: and since also felicitv konsists in
;he 'contemplation and performance of ihings [truly]
beautiful; but contemplations and actions, when they
are not vrosverous. are-attended with ministrant offices
and necissit;, but &hen they proceed in the right path,
produce delight and felicity; and these things are
effected in prosperity;-this being the case, it is evident
that felicity is nothing else than the u5e of virtue in
prosperity. Hence the good man is disposed with
respect t o prosperity, in the same manner as he who
has an excellent and robust bodv. For such a one is
able t o endure heat and cold, td raise a great burden,
and t o sustain easily many other molestations.
Since therefore felicity is the use of virtue in pros-
perity, we must speak concerning virtue and prosperity,
and in the first place concerning prosperity. For of
goods, some indeed do not admit of excess, and this is
ihe case with virtue. For there is not any Girtue which
is excessive, nor any worthy man who is beyond
measure good. For kirtue has the fit and becoming
for a rule, and is the habit of the decorous in practical
concerns. But prosperity receives excess and diminu-
tion. And wh& i t is excessive indeed, it generates
certaip vices, and removes a man from his natural habit;
so that he frequently through this opposes the constitu-
tion of virtue. And this is not only the case with
prosperity, but many other causes likewise may effect
the same thing. For it is by no means proper t o
wonder, that some of those who play on the pipe
should be arrogant men, who, bidding farewell t o
truth, ensnare by a certain false imagination those who
are unskilled in music; and t o disbelieve that a thing
of this kind does not take place in virtue. For the more
venerable a thing is, so much the more numerous are
those that pretend t o the possession of it. For there
are many things which distort the habit and form of
virtue; some of which are insidious arts and affectation;
others are kindred physical passions, which sometimes
roduce an indecorum contrary t o the true disposition
of virtue]. This also is effected through manners in
P
which men have been nurtured for a long time; and it
not unfrequently happens that it is produced through
youth or old age, and through prosperity or adversity;
and by other very numerous ways. Hence, we ought
never t o wonder, if sometimes a distorted judgment is
formed of all things, the true disposition being ~ha nge d. ~
Thus we see that the most excellent carpenter fre-
quently errs in the works which are the subjects of his
art; and this is also the case with the general, the pilot,
the painter, and in short, with all artists. And yet a t
the same time we do not deprive them of the habit
which they possess. For as we do not rank among bad
men him who at certain times acts intemperately, or
unjustly, or timidly; so neither do we place him in the
class of good men, who does something right in things
pertaining t o temperance, or ustice, or fortitude. But
it must be said that the con B uct of bad men in things
For i~r~pllrtcav here, I read &lrp&crav.
2 In the original, tu-rr oi8llrotza 8rt 6a6patvcv, ri r a v i bv~rurpap-
pfvws ivdrra ~pivrrat, rhs MV6t v~s GraOlutor pcralrlrrro~uas, which
Canter erroneously translates as follows : " Quocirca mirandum non
est, si cuncta nonnunquam, verl affectione mutatb, aliter eveniunt."
Nor is the error noticed by Gale.
of this kind is casually right, and that good men [some-
times] err. A true judgment however [in these in-
stances] is t o be formed, not by looking to a certain
occasion, or t o a certain extent of time, but t o the
whole of life. But as indi~ence and excess are in-
jurious t o the body, yet excess and what are called
superfluities, are naturally adapted to produce greater
diseases [than those caused by indigence]; thus also
prosperity or adversity injure the soul, when they un-
seasonably happen; yet that which is called by all men
prosperity, is naturally adapted t o produce greater
diseases [than adversity], since it intoxicates like wine
the reasoning power of good men.
Hence it is more difficult to bear prosperity in a
becoming manner than adversity. For all men when
they continue in adversity, are seen for the most part
t o be moderate and orderly in their manners; but in
prosperity they are brave, magnificent, and magnani-
mous [when they bear it in a becoming manner]. For
adversity has the power of contracting and depressing
the soul; but prosperity, on the contrary, elevates and
expands it. Hence all those that are unfortunate, are
in'their manners cautious and prudent: but those 'that
are fortunate are insolent aAd confident. But the
boundary of prosperity, is that which a good man would
deliberately choose t o co-operate with him in his own
proper actions; just as the [proper] magnitude of a
ship, and the [proper] magnitude of a rudder, are such
as will enable a good pilot t o sail over a great extent
of sea, and t o accomplish a great voyage. An excess
of prosperity, however, is not naturally adapted to be
vanquished by, but t o vanquish the soul. For as a
[very] splendid light causes an obscuration of sight in
the eyes; thus also excessive prosperity darkens the
intellect of the soul. And thus much may suffice con-
cerning prosperity.
FROM
THEAGES,
I N HIS TREATISE
ON THE VIRTUES.
THE order of the soul subsists in such a way, that one
part of it is the reasoning power, another is 'anger, and
another is desire. And the reasoning power, indeed,
has dominion over knowledge; anger over impetus;
and desire intrepidlv rules over the appetitions of the
soul. When thirefhre these three pass into one,
and exhibit one appropriate comp6sitio~, then virtue
and concord are produced in the soul. But when they
are divulsed from each other by sedition, then vice and
discord are produced in the sod. It is necessary, how-
ever, that virtue should have these three things, viz.
reason, power, and deliberate choice. The virtue,
therefore, of the reasoning power of the soul is prudence;
for it is a habit of judging and contemplating. But the
virtue of the irascible part, is fortitude; for i t is a habit
of resisting, and enduring things of a dreadful nature.
And the virtue of the epithymetic or appetitive part
is temperance; for it is a moderation and detention
of the pleasures which arise through the body. But
the virtue of the whole soul is iustice. For men
indeed become bad, either throug6 vice, or through
incontinence, or through a natural ferocity. But they
injure each other, either through gain, or through
pleasure, or through ambition. Vice, therefore, more
appropriately belongs t o the reasoning part of the soul.
For prudence indeed is similar t o art; but vice t o
161 I I
~ernicious art. For it invents contrivances for the
1
purpose of acting unjustly. But incontinence rather
pertains t o the appetitive part of the soul. For con-
tinence consists in subduing, and incontinence in not
subduing pleasures. And ferocity pertains t o the
irascible part of the soul. For when some one, through
acting ill from desire, is gratified not as a man should
be, but as a wild beast, then a thing of this kind is
denominated ferocity. The effects also of these dis-
positions are consequent t o the things for the sake of
which they are performed. For avarice is consequent
t o vice; but viie is consequent t o the reasoning part
of the soul. And ambition, indeed, follows from the
irascible part; and this becoming excessive, generates
ferocity. Again, pleasure pertains t o the appetitive
part; but this being sought after more vehemently,
generates incontinence. Hence, since the acting un-
justly is produced from so many causes, it is evident
that acting justly is effected through an equal number
of causes. For virtue, indeed, is naturally beneficent
and profitable; but vice is productive of evil, and is
noxious.
Since, however, of the parts of the soul, one is the
leader, but the other follows, and the virtues and the
vices subsist about these, and in these; it is evident
that with respect t o the virtues also, some are leaders,
others are followers, and others are composed from
these. And the leaders, indeed, are such as prudence;
but the followers are such as fortitude and temperance;
and the composites from these, are such as justice.
The passions, however, are the matter of virtue; for
the virtues subsist about, and in these. But of the
passions, one is voluntary, but another is involuntary.
And the voluntary, indeed, is pleasure; but the in-
voluntary is pain. Men also, who have the political
virtues, give intension and remission t o these, co-
harmonizing the other parts of the soul, t o that part
which possesses reason. But the boundary of this
co-adaptation, is for intellect not t o be prevented from
accomplishing its proper work, either by indigence, or
excess. For that which is less excellent, is co-arranged
for the sake of that which is more excellent. Thus in
the world, every part that is always passive, subsists for
the sake of that which is alwavs moved. And in the
conjunction of animals, the fe*ale subsists for the sake
of ihe male. For the- latter sows, generating a soul ;
but the former alone imparts matter t o that which is
generated. I n the soul however, the irrational sub-
sists for the sake of the rational part. For anger and
desire are co-arranged in subserviency t o the first part
of the soul; the former as a certain satellite, and
guardian of the body; but the latter as a dispensator
and provident curator of necessary wants. But intellect
being established in the highest summit of the body,
and having a prospect in that which is on al l sides
splendid and transparent,' investigates the wisdom of
[real] beings. And this is the work of i t according t o
nature, viz. having investigated, and obtained the
possession [of trutL] t o follow those beings who are
more excellent and more honorable than itself. For
the knowledge of things divine and most honorable, is the
principle, cause, and rule of human blessedness.
1 i.e. In the etherial vehicle of the soul, which when the soul
energizes intellectually is spherical, and is moved circularly. This
vehicle alsa is aiiymistjp, or luciform, throughout diaphanous, and of
a star-like nature. Hence Marcus Antoninus beautifully observes :
u+Pil:Z q v ~ i j s ~ ~ J T O C C ~ T ~ S , Oege (1; ori&js) d ~ a v pfifr d ~ r r b q r a i in1 74,
p.tj7r i uw avwpiXn t ~. rj t c avvi t ciq, UXci + k c Xapmj~ac, y +
M4Or i av Zp9 T ~ V ni vzov, ra; j v i v aing Lib. 11. i.e. " The sphere
of the soul is then luciform, when the soul is neither extended to
anything [external] nor inwardly concurs with it, nor is depressed by
it, but is illuminated with a light by which she sees the truth of a 1
things, and the truth that is in herself."
FROM
METOPUS,
I N HIS TREATISE
CONCERNING VIRTUE.
THE virtue of man is the perfection of the nature
of man. For every being becomes perfect, and arrives
at the summit of excellence according t o the proper
nature of its virtue. Thus the virtue of a horse, is
that which leads the nature of a horse t o its summit.
And the same reasoning is applicable t o the several parts
of a thing. Thus the virtue of the eyes is acuteness of
vision: &d this in the nature of the eyes is the summit.
The virtue of the ears also, is acuteness of hearing:
and this is the summit of the nature of the ears. Thus
too, the virtue of the feet is swiftness : and this is the
summit of the nature of the feet. It is necessary how-
ever, that every virtue should have these three ;hings,
reason, power, and deliberate choice; reason indeed,
by which it judges and contemplates; power, by which
it prohibits and vanquishes; and deliberate choice, by
w6ich i t loves and helight-s in [what is proper]. .TL
judge, therefore, and contemplate, pertain t o the dia-
noetic part of the soul; but t o prohibit and vanquish
are the peculiarity of the irrational part of the soul;
1 M. Meibomius observes, that Canter did not see that hoyrg.rc~o
should be written in this place for dXoyw. Canter however was right
in retaining dhgro. For the dianoetic is the same with the logistic
part of the soul ; and i t is evident that a part of the soul different
from the dianoetic is here intended to be signified. Besides, as Aristotle
shows in his Nicomachean Ethics, when the irrational becomes obedient
to the rational part of the soul, the former then prohibits and van-
quishes base appetites in conjunction with the latter.
164
and t o love and delight in what is proper, pertain t o
both the rational and irrational parts. For deliberate
choice consists of dianoia Tor th; discursive energy of
reason] and appetite. ~ L n o i a therefore, belongs t o
the rational. but avvetite t o the irrational Dart of the
soul. The multitide however, of all the v:rtues, may
erceived from the parts bf the soul; and' in
simi be 7 ar manner the generation and nature of virtue.
For of the parts of the soul, there are two that rank
as the first, viz. the rational and the irrational parts.
And the rational part indeed. is that by which we
judge and contemplate; but the irrationai part is that
by which we are impelled and desire. These however,
a;e either concordak or discordant with each other;
But the contest and dissonance between them, are
produced through excess and defect. It is evident
therefore, that when the rational vanquishes the irra-
tional Dart of the soul, endu-ance and continence are
produied; and that &hen the former leads, and the
latter follows, and both accord with each other, then
virtue is generated. Hence, endurance a nd con-
tinence are generated accompanied with pain; but
endurance resists pain, and continence pleasure. In-
continence however, and effeminacy, neiiher resist nor
vanquish [pleasure]. And on this account it happens
that men fly from good through pain, but reject it
through pleasure. Praise likewise, and blame, and
everything beautiful in human conduct are produced
in these parts of the soul. And in short, the nature
of virtue derives its subsistence after this manner.
The species however, and the parts of it, may be
surveyeda as follows: since there &e two p i t s oi the
soul, the rational and the irrational; the latter is
divided into the irascible and appetitive. And the
rational part indeed, is that by which we judge and
contemplate; but the irrational part is that by which
we are impelled and desire. And of this, that which
is as it were adapted t o defend us, and revenge inci-
dental molestations, is denominated the irascible part ;
but that which is as it were orectic of, and desires t o
preserve the proper constitution of the body, is the
appetitive part. It is evident therefore, that the
multitude of the virtues, their differences, and their
peculiarities, follow conformably t o these parts of the
soul.
FROM CLINIAS.
EVERY virtue is perfected, as was shown by us in the
beginning, from-reason, deliberate choice, 'and power.
Each of these, however, is not by itself a part of virtue,
but the cause of it. Such therefore, as have the in-
tellective and gnostic part of virtue,' are denominated
skilful and intelligent; but such as have the ethical and
pre-elective part of it, are denominated useful and
equitable.' Since however, man is naturally adapted
t o act unjustly from exciting causes; and these are
three, the love of pleasure in corporeal enjoyments;
avarice, in the accumulation of wealth; and ambition,
in surpassing those that are equal and similar t o him;
-this being the case, it is necessary t o know, that it
is possible to oppose t o these such things as procure
fear, shame, and desire in men; viz. fear through the
laws, shame through the Gods, and desire through the
-
energies of reason. Hence, i t is necessary that 'youth
should be taught from the first t o honor the Gods and
the laws. F G~ from these, it will be manifest, that
every human work, and every kind of human life, by
the participation of sanctity and piety, will sail pros-
perously [over the sea of generation].
viz. Such as have the theoretic virtues.
a i.e. Such as have the ethical and political virtues.
FROM
THEAGES,
I N HIS TREATISE
ON THE VIRTUES.
THE principles of all virtue are three; knowledge,
power, and deliberate choice. And knowledge indeed,
is that by which we contemplate and form a judgment
of things; power is as it were a certain strength of the
nature1 from which we derive our subsistence, and is
that which gives stability t o our actions; and deliberate
choice is as it were certain hands of the soul by which
we are impelled to, and lay hold on the objecis of our
choice. The order of the soul also subsists as follows:
One part of it is the reasoning power, another part is
an er, and another is desire. And the reasoning ower
in fi eed, is that which has dominion over know f' edge;
anger is that which rules over the ardent impulses of
th; soul; and desire is that which willingly rdes over
appetite. When therefore, these three pass into one,
so as t o exhibit one co-adaptation, then virtue and
concord are produced in thesoul; but when they are
seditious, and divulsed from each other, then vice
and discord are generated in the soul. And when the
The original is, di 81 Gdvaprs, oiov d X ~ d -rlr r w v~dvros $ 6+&.rci-
@a, ua'c cppivops 701s r pdy pa e ~v . This sentence in its present
state is certainly unintelligible. For audvtos therefore, I read +v'utw,
and then the sense will be as in the above translation. The version
of Canter is certainly absurd ; for it is " Facultas tanquam robur et
causae, quo ferimus, et in rebus permanemus." And Gale, as usual,
takes na notice of the absurdity.
168
reasoning power prevails over the irrational parts of
the soul, then endurance and continence are produced;
endurance indeed, in the retention of pains;- but con-
tinence in the abstinence from pleasures. But when
the irrational parts of the soul prevail over the reason-
ing power, t hi n effeminacy aria incontinence are pro-
duced; effeminacy indeed, in flying from pain; but
incontinence, in the being vanquished by pleasures.
When however, the better part of the soul governs,
but the less excellent part is governed; and the former
leads, but the latter follows, and both consent, and
are concordant with each other, then virtue and every
good are generated in the whole soul. When likewise
the appetitive follows the reasoning part of the soul,
then temperance is produced; but when this is the
case with the irascible part, fortitude is produced; and
when it takes place in all the parts of the soul, then
justice is the result. For ustlce is that which sepa-
rates all the vices and all t l! e virtues of the soul from
each other. And iustice is a certain established order
of the apt coniu&tion of the parts of the soul. and
perfect b d supreme virtue. ~ b r every good is'con-
tained in this ; but the other goods of the soul cannot sub-
sist without this. ~ e n c e juzice possesses great strength
both among Gods and men. For this virtue contains
the bond Gy which the whole and the universe are
held together, and also by which Gods and men are
connected. Tustice therefore, is said t o be Themis
among the caestial, but ~ i c k among the terrestrial
Gods; and Law among men. These assertions how-
ever, are indications and symbols, that justice is the
supreme virtue. Hence virtue, when it consists in
contemplating and judging, is cilled prudence; when
in sustaining things of a dreadful nature, it is de-
nominated Tortituade ; when in restraining pleasure,
temperance; and when in abstaining from gain, and
from injuring our neighbours, justice.
Moreover, the arrangement of virtue according t o
right reason, and the transgression of it contrary t o
right reason, produce [in the former case] a tendency
to the decorous as the final mark, and [in the latter1
the frustration of it. The decorous however, is thai
which ought to be. But this does not require either
addition or ablation; since it is that which it is
requisite t o be. But of the indecorous there are two
species; one of which is excess, and the other defect.
And excess indeed, is more, but deficiency is less, than
is decorous. Virtue also, is a certain habit of the
decorous. Hence it is directly, both a summit and a
medium. For thus, things that are decorous are both
media and summits. They are media indeed, because
they fall between excess and deficiency; but they are
summits, because they do not require either addition
or ablation. For they are the very things themselves
which they ought to be.
Since however, the virtue of manners is conversant
with the passions, but of the passions pleasure and pain
are supreme, it is evident that virtue does not consist
in ex6rpating the passions of the soul, pleasure and
pain, but in co-harmonizing them. For neither does
health, which is a certain apt mixture of the vowers
of theCbody, consist in expelfing the cold and t6e hot,
the moist and the dry; but in these being [appropri-
ately] mingled together. For it is as it were, a certain
symmetry of these. Thus too, in music, concord does
not consist in expelling the sharp and the flat ; but when
these are co-harmonized, then concord is produced,
and dissonance is exterminated. I n a simila; manner,
the hot and the cold, the moist and the dry, being
harmoniously mingled together, health is prodkid, ana
disease destroyed. But when anger and desire are co-
harmonized, the vices and the [other] passions are ex-
tirpated, and the virtues and manners are ingenerated.
~di be r a t e choice however, in beautiful condkt , is the
greatest veculiaritv of the virtue of manners. For it
& possibfe t o use' reason and power without virtue;
but it is not possible t o use deliberate choice without
it. For deliberate choice indicates the dinnitv of
manners. Hence also, the reasoning power &bduing
by force anger and desire, produces continence and
endurance. And again, when the reasoning power is
violently dethroned by the irrational parts, then incon-
tinence and effeminacy are produced. Such disposi-
tions however, of the soul as these, are half-perfect
virtues, and half-perfect vices. For the reasoning
power of the soul is [according t o its natural subsistence]
in a healthy, but the irrational parts are in a diseased
condition. And so far indeed, as anger and desire are
governed and led by the rational part of the soul,
continence and endurance become virtues; but so far
as this is effected by violence, and not voluntarily, they
become vices. For it is necessary that virtue should
perform such things as are fit, not with pain, but with
pleasure. Again, so far as anger and desire govern the
reasoning power, effeminacy and incontinence are pro-
duced, which are certain vices. But so far as they
gratify the passions with pain, knowing that they are
erroneous, in consequence of the eye of the soul being
sane,--so far as this is the case, they are not vices.
Hence, it is evident that virtue must necessarily er-
P form what is fit voluntarily; that which is invo un-
tary indeed, not being without pain and fear; and
that which is voluntary, not subsisting without pleasure
and delight.
By division also it will at the same time be found
that this is the case. For knowledge and the per-
ception of things, are the province of the rational part
of the soul; but power pertains to the irrational part.
For not t o be able t o resist pain, or t o vanquish
pleasure, is the peculiarity of the irrational part of the
soul. But deliberate choice subsists in both these, viz.
in the rational, and also in the irrational part. For it
consists of dianoia and appetite; of which, dianoia
indeed, pertains t o the rational, but appetite to the
irrational Part. Hence every virtue consists in a co-
adapat i od of the parts of ;he soul; and both will
and deliberate choice, entirely subsist in virtue.
Universally therefore, virtue is a certain co-adapta-
tion of the irrational parts of the soul to the rational
part. Virtue however, is produced through pleasure
and pain receiving the boundary of that which is fit.
For true virtue is nothing else than the habit of that
which is fit. But the fit, or the decorous, is that
which ought t o be; and the unfit, or indecorous, is
that which ought not t o be. Of the indecorous how-
ever, there are two species, viz. excess and defect.
And excess indeed, is more than is fit; but defect is
less than is fit. But since the fit is that which ought
t o be, it is both a summit and a middle. It is a summit
indeed, because it neither requires ablation, nor
addition; but it is a middle, because it subsists
between excess and defect. The fit, however, and
the unfit, are t o each other as the equal and the
unequal, that which is arranged, and that which is
without arrangement; and both the two former
and the two latter are finite and infinite.l On this
account, the parts of the unequal are referred t o
the middle, but not t o each other. For the angle
is called obtuse which is greater than a right angTe;
but that is called acute, which is less than a right angle.
The right line also [in a circle] is greater, which &r-
passes that which is drawn from the center. And the
&ay is longer indeed, which exceeds that of the equinox.
Diseases, likewise, of the body are generated, through
the body becoming more hot or more cold rthan is
proper].' For t har which is more hot [than is fit]
exceeds moderation; and that which is more cold
viz. The equal and that which is arranged, belong to the order
of bound, and the unequal and that which is without arrangement,
to the order of infinity. And bound and infinity are the two great
principles of things after the ineffable cause of all. See the third
book of my translation of Proclus, On the Theology of Plato.
[than is fit] is below mediocrity. The soul also, and
such things as pertain t o it, have this disposition and
analogy. For audacity indeed, is an excess of the
decorous in the endurance of things of a dreadful
nature; but timidity is a deficiencywof the decorous.
And p;odigality is an excess of what is fit in the ex-
penditure of money; but illiberality is a deficiency in
this. And rage indeed, is an excess of the decoious
in the impulse of the irascible part of the soul; but
insensibility is a deficiency of this. The same reason-
ing likewise applies t o the opposition of the other
dispositions of the soul. It is necessary however, that
virtue, since it is a habit of the decorous, and a medium
of the passions, should neither be [wh*lly] impassive,
nor immoderately passive. For impassivity indeed,
causes the soul t o be unimpelled, and t o be without
an enthusiastic tendency to-the beautiful in conduct;
but immoderate passivity causes it t o be full of
turbation, and inconsiderate. It is necessary therefore,
that should so present itself t o the view, in
virtue, as shadow and outline in a picture. For the
animated and the delicate, and that which imitates
the truth, in c o n j ~ n c t i o ~ with goodness of colors,
are especially effected in a picture-through these [i.e;
through shadow and outlinel. But the passions of the
soul Ge animated by the naiural incitatibn and enthu-
siasm of virtue. l?or virtue is generated from the
passions, and when generated, ag5n subsists together
with them; iust as that which is well harmonized
consists of t h i sharp and the flat. that which is well
mingled consists o< the hot and-t he cold, and that
which is in equilibrium derives its equality of weight
from the heavy and the light. It is not therefore
necessary t o take away the passions of the soul; for
neither would this be profitable; but it is requisite
that they should be co-harmonized with the rational
part, in f onjunction with fitness and mediocrity.
FROM
THE TREATISE OF
ARCHYTAS
ON ETHICAL ERUDITION.
I SAY that virtue will be found sufficient to the -
avoidance of infelicity, and vice to the non-attainment
of felicity, if we judiciously consider the habits [by
which these are roduced]. For it is necessary that the
B bad man shoul always be miserable; whether he is
in affluence, for he employs it badly; or whether he is
in penury; just as the blind man, whether he has
light, and the most splendid visible object before him,
or whether he is in the dark [is always necessarily
without sight]. But the good man is not always happy;
for felicitv does not consist in the possession. but in - ~
the use o? virtue. For neither doesAhe who has sight
always see; for he will not see, if he is without light.
Life. however. is divided into two paths : one of which
is Gore arduous, and in which ;he datient Ulysses
walked: but the- other is more free from molestation,
and is that in which Nestor proceeded.
I say therefore
that virtue desires the latter, but is able to proceed in
the former of these paths. The nature however of
felicity proclaims it to be a desirable and stable life,
because it gives perf'ection to the decision of the soul.
Hence the virtuous man who does not obtain such a
life as this, is not indeed happy, nor yet entirely miser-
able. No one therefore will dare to say that the good
man should be exempt from disease, and pain, and
sorrow. For as we leave certain painful things t o the
174
body, so likewise we must permit them to be present
with the soul. The sorrows, however, of fools are
most irrational; but those of wise men proceed only
as far as reason, which gives limitation t o things, per-
mits. Moreover, the boast of apathy dissolves the
generosity of virtue, when it opposes itself t o things
of an indifferent nature, and not to evils such as death,
and pain, and poverty. For things which are not
evils are easily vanquished. We should therefore exer-
cise ourselves in the mediocrity of the passions, as we
shall then equally avoid insensibility, and too much
passivity, and shall not speak higher of our nature
than we ought.
FROM
ARCHYTAS,
I N HIS TREATISE ON
THE GOOD AND HAPPY MAN.
I SAY then that the good man is one who uses in a
beautiful manner greG things and opportunities. He
likewise is able to bear well both prosperity and
adversity. In beautiful and honorable circumstances
also. he becomes worthy of the condition in which he
is piaced; and when his fortune is changed, receives it
in a proper manner. In short, on all occasions, he con-
tend's {ell from contingenci& that may arise Nor
does he only thus himself [for whatever may
h a ~ ~ e n l , but likewise those who confide in and contend
A I 4'
together with him.
FROM
CRITO,
IN HIS TREATISE ON
PRUDENCE AND PROSPERITY.
PRUDENCE and prosperity subsist, with reference to
each other, as follows: Prudence indeed is effable and
possesses reason; for it is something orderly and defi-
nite. But prosperity is ineffable and irrational; for
it is something disorderly and indefinite. And pru-
dence, indeed, is prior, but prosperity is posterior in
beginning and in power. For the former is naturally
adapted to govern and define; but the latter to be
governed and defined. Moreover, both prudence and
prosperity receive co-adaptation, since they concur in
one and the same thing. For it is always necessary
that the thing which bounds and co-arranges, should
have a nature which is effable and participates of
reason; but that the thing which is bounded and co-
arranged, should be naturally ineffable and irrational.
For the reason of the nature of the infinite and of
that which bounds, thus subsists in all things. For
infinites are always naturally disposed to be bounded
and co-arranged by things which possess reason and
prudence, since the former have the order of matter
and essence with relation to the latter. But finites are
co-arranged and bounded from themselves, since they
have the order of cause, and of that which is energetic.
The co-adaptation, however, of these natures in
different things, produces a great and various differ-
ence of co-adapted substances. For in the compre-
hension of the whole of things, the co-adaptation of
177 I2
both the natures, i.e. of the nature which is always
moved, and of that which is always passive, is the world.
For it is not ~ossible for the whole and the universe
to be otherwis'e saved, than by that which is generated
being co-adapted to that which is divine, Bnd that
whiFh is alwGs passive to that which is always moved.'
In man, likewise, the co-adaptation of the irrational
to the rational dart of the soul. is virtue. For it is
not ~ossible in tgese. when there $ sedition in both the
par&, that virtue shbuld have a subsistence. In a city
also, the co-adaptation of the governors to the governed,
produces strength and concord. For to govern is the
peculiarity of the better nature; but to be governed,
is easier to the subordinate rthan to the more excellent1
.I
nature. And strength an2 concord are common to
both. There is, however, the same mode of adapta-
tion in the universe and in a family: for allurements
and erudition concur with reason h one and the same
thing; and likewise pains and pleasures, prosperity and
adversity. For the life of man requires intension and
remissidn, sorrow and gladness, and adver-
sity. For some things are able t o collect and retain
the intellect to industry and wisdom: but others
impart relaxation and delight, and t hi s render the
intellect vigorous and prompt to action. If however
one of these prevails in life, then the life of man be-
comes of on; part, and verges to one part, tending
either to sorrow and difficulty, or to remission and
levity. But the co-adaptatioI; -of all these ought to
subsist with reference to prudence. For this separates
and distinguishes bound and infinity in actions. * ~ e n c e
viz. The salvation of the universe arises from the co-adaptation
of the sublunary region to the heavens.
In the Greek Crry8&s ; on which Gale observes, " Forte ciP&81ac,
nisi aliud subsit mysterium." But it appears to me that there is no
occasion to substitute any other word for iry8hs. For in the educa-
tion of youth, i t is certainly requisite to unite allurement with
erudition. And the substitution of dp&Ohs, ignorance, is monstrous.
3 In the original durh yhp 2 Gc~vrpyoCua, instead of which Gale
prudence is the leader and mother of the other virtues.
or all of them are co-harmonized and co-arranged
with reference t o the reason and law of this virtue.
And now my discussion of this subject is terminated.
For the irrational and the effable are in all things.
And the latter defines and bounds; but the former is
defined and bounded. That, however, which con-
sists of both these, is the apt cbmposition of the whole
and the universe.
The following beautiful fragment of CRITO on
Prudence, is from the Physical Eclogues of
Stobreus, p. 198, and is omitted by Gale in his
Collection of Pythagoric Ethical Fragments
in Opusc. Mythol. &c.
God fashioned man in such a way as to render it
manifest, that he is not through the want of power,
or of deliberate choice, incapable of being impelled
to what is beautiful in conduct. For he implanted in
him a principle of such a kind as to comprehend a t one
and the same time the possible and the pre-eligible;
so that man might be the cause of power, and the
possession of good, but God of impulse and incitation
according to right reason. On this account also, he
made him tend to heaven, gave him an intellective
power, and implanted in him a sight called intellect,
which is capable of beholding God. For it is not
possible without God to discover that which is best
and most beautiful, nor without intellect to see God,
since every mortal nature is established in conjunction
with a kindred privation of intellect. This however
is not imparted to it by God, but by the essence of
generation, and by that impulse of the soul which is
without deliberate choice.
proposes to read ah& y i p 68s t'vcpyotcra, which still leaves the sentence
involved in obscurity. But if for Gtcvcpyo~ua we read Gt o p t ~ o ~ o a as
in the above translation, the meaning is clear.
FROM
ARCHYTAS,
I N HIS TREATISE ON
THE GOOD AND HAPPY MAN.
THE prudent [i.e. the wise] man will especially become
so as follows: I n the first place, being naturally saga-
cious, possessing a good memory, and being a lover of
labor, he should exercise his dianoetic power imme-
diately from his youth in reasonings a i d disciplines,
and in accurate theories, and adhere to genuine phil-
osophy. But after this he should acquire knowledge
and experience in what pertains to the Gods, the laws,
and human lives. For there are two things from which
-
the disposition of prudence is produced; one of which
consists in obtaining a mathematical and gnostic habit ;
but the other, in a man perceiving by himself many
theorems and things, and understanding other things
through a certain different mode. For neither is he
suffic&nt to the possession of prudence, who imrne-
diately from his youth has exercised his dianoetic power
in reasonings and disciplines; nor he who being desti-
tute of these, has heard and has been conversant with
a multitude of things. But the latter will have his
dianoetic power blina, through judging of particulars;
and the former through always surveying universals.
For as in computations the amount of the whole is
obtained bv t ce addition of the ~ar t s . thus also in
things, reaion is able to delineate ;he ;heory of uni-
versals; but experience has the power of forming a
judgment of particulars.
I 80
FROM
ARCHYTAS,
I N HIS TREATISE
DISCIPLINES.
IT is necessary that you should become scientific,
either by learning from another person, or by dis-
covering yourself the things of which you have a
scientific knowledge. If, therefore, you learn from
another person, that which you learn is foreign; but
what you discover yourself is through yourself, and is
your own. Moreover, if you investigate, discovery will
be easy, and soon obtained; but if you do not know
how to investigate, discovery will be to you impossible.
And [right] reasoning indeed, when discovered, causes
sedition to cease, and increases concord. For through
this the inexhaustible desire of possessing is suppressed,
and equality prevails; since by this we obtain what is
just in contracts. Hence, on account of this, the poor
receive from those who are able to give; and the rich
give to those that are in want, both of them believing
that through this they shall obtain the equal. This
however will be a rule and an impediment to those
that act unjustly, viz. that men who possess scientific
knowledge will appease their anger, prior to the com-
mission of an injury, being persuaded that the per-
petrators of it will not be concealed when it is com-
mitted; but that those who do not possess scientific
knowledge, becoming manifest in the commission of
an injury, will be restrained from acting unjustly.
181
FROM
I N HIS TREATISE
ON JUSTICE.
IT appears t o me that the justice which subsists
among men, may be called the mother and the nurse
of the other virtues. For without this a man can
neither be temperate, nor brave, nor prudent. For
it is the harmony and peace, in conjunction with
elegance, of the whole soul. The strength however
of this virtue will become more manifest, if we direct
our attention t o the other habits. For they have a
partial utility, and which is referred t o one thing; but
this is referred t o whole systems, and t o a multitude.
I n the world therefore, it conducts the whole govern-
ment of things, and is providence, harmony, and Dice,
by the decree of a certain genus of Gods. But in a
city it is justly called peace, and equitable legislation.
And in a house, it is the concord between the husband
and wife; the benevolence of the servant towards the
master; and the anxious care of the master for the
welfare of the servant. In the body likewise, which is
the first and dearest thing t o all animals, [so far as they
are animals,l it is the health and intireness of all the
parts. ~ u t 'ln the soul, it is the wisdom, which among
men subsists from science and justice. If therefore,
this virtue thus disciplines and saves both the whole
and the parts [of every thing] rendering things con-
cordant and familiar with each other, how is it possible
it should not be called by the decision of all men, the
mother and the nurse of 811 things?
182
The following fragments also, from the Treatise of
Archytas on Wisdom, are preserved by Iamblichus,
in the 3rd Chapter of his Protreptics, or Exhorta-
tions t o Philosophy.
" Archytas therefore, in the beginning of his Treatise
on Wisdom, exhorts t o the possession of it as follows:
I. "Wisdom as much excels in all human affairs as
the sight does the [other] corporeal senses, intellect
the soul, and the sun the stars. For the sight is the
most fa;-darting, and the most multiform zf all the
senses; intellect is the supreme part of the soul,
judging by reason and dianoia what is fit, and existing
as the sight and power of the most honorable things;
and the sun is the eve and soul of t hi ns which have
a natural subsisteGe. For through Pt all things
become visible, are generated, and rise into existence.'
Deriving also their roots, and being generated from
thence, they are nourished, increased and excited by
it in coniunction with sense.
2. a an was generated by far the wisest of all
[terrestrial] animals. For he is able t o contemplate
the things which exist, and t o obtain from all things
science and wisdom. To which also it may be added,
that divinity has engraved and exhibited in him the
system of universal reason, in which all the forms of
;hings in existence are distributed, and the significa-
tions of nouns and verbs. For a place is assigned for
the sounds of the voice, viz. the pharynx, the mouth,
and the nostrils. But as man was generated the
instrument of the sounds, through whrch nouns and
-
verbs are signified, so likewise of the conceptions which
are beheld in the things that have an existence. And
this appears t o me to%e the work of wisdom, for the
accomplishment of which man was generated and con-
stituteh, and received organs and from divinity.
3. "Man was generated and constituted, for the
For voijra' in this place, I read +VCTOLL.
purpose of contemplating the reason of the whole of
nature, and in order that, being himself the work of
wisdom, he might survey the wisdom of the things
which exist.-For if the reason of man is contemplative
of the reason of the whole of nature, and the 6isdom
also of man perceives and contemdates the wisdom of
the things i i exist ence,-this bei'ng acknowledged, it
is at the same time demonstrated, that man is a part
of universal reason, and of the whole of the intelleGual
nature.
4. "Wisdom is not conversant with a certain definite
existing thing, but is simply conversant with all the
things that exist. And it is requisite, that it should
not &st investigate the principles of itself, but the
common principles of all beings, For wisdom so sub-
sists with;efer&ce t o all beink. that it is the orovince
of it to know and contemplac ;he universal kcidents
of all things. And on this account wisdom discovers
the ~r i nci ~l es of all beinns.
L
5 . goev ever, therefse, is able t o analyze all the
geiera which are contained under one and the same
principle, and again t o compose and con-numerate
them, he appears t o me t o be the wisest of men, and
t o oisess <he most perfect veracity. Farther stiu, he
wdf also have discovered a beautiful place of survey,
from which it will be possible t o behdld divinity, a6d
all things that are in co-ordination with, and successive
t o him; subsisting separately, or distinct from each
other.1 Having likewise entered this most ample road,
1 Neither of the Latin translators North and Arcerius have under-
stood this passage, and therefore have erroneously translated it. For
the original is : ~ a i d v r a rii i v re wcrroixri~ ~ a i tOict ra i ~ r i v w
~ a r a ~ r ~ o ~ t c r ~ & a . This North translates : " Atque omnia in rerum
eerie et ordine ab illo separata." But Arcerius : " Atque omnia quae
sunt in naturz cognatione ordineque ab ill0 separata." By the things
however co-ordinate with, and successive to God, Archytas means the
other Gods, who, though subordinate to the supreme, yet in consequence
of partaking of the same nature, are said to be co-ordinate with him.
Gale, likewise, did not perceive the error of the Latin translators.
being impelled in a right direction by intellect, and
having arrived at the end of his course, he will have
conjoined beginnings with ends, and will know that
God is the principle, middle, and end, of all things
which are accomplished according to justice and right
reason." l
Plato says this of God in his Laws.
PYTHAGORIC ETHICAL SENTENCES
FROM
Which are omitted in the Opwcula Mythologica, Uc.
of Gale.
Do not even think of doing what ought not t o be
-
done.
Choose rather t o be strong in soul than in body.
Be persuaded that things of a laborious nature con-
tribute more than pleasures t o virtue.
Every passion of the soul is most hostile t o its
salvation.
It is difficult t o walk at one and the same time in
many paths of life.'
Pythagoras said, it is re uisite to choose the most
I excellent life: for custom wi 1 make it vleasant. Wealth
is an infirm anchor, glory is still more'infirm; and in a
similar manner the body, dominion, and honor. For
all these are imbecile ahh vowerlesH. What then are
powerful anchors ? prudeice, magnanimity, fortitude.
These no tempest can shake. This is the law of God,
that virtue is the only thing that is strong; and that
every thing else is a trifle.
All the parts of human life, in the same manner as
those of a statue, ought t o be beautiful.
A statue indeed standing on its basis, but a worthy
man on the subject of his deliberate choice, ought t o
be immovable.
1 The above sentences are from Stobaei Sententiae, p. 3. (the edition
that of 1,609,) and are ascribed to Pythagoras.
I 86
Frankincense ought t o be given t o the Gods, but
raise t o good men.
1
It is re&isite t o defend those who are unjustly accused
of having acted injuriously, but t o praise those who
. .
excel in a certain good.
Neither will thchorse be judged t o be generous, that
is sumptuously adorned, but the horse whose nature is
illustribus; nor is the man worthy who possesses great
wealth, but he whose soul is generous.
~ h ; n the wise man opens his mouth. the beauties
of his soul present the6selves t o the Giew, like the
statues in a temple.'
Remind yourself that all men assert that wisdom is
the good, but that there are few who stren-
uously endeavour t o obtain this greatest good?
Pyt hagor as.
Be sober, and remember t o be disposed t o believe;
for these are the nerves of wisdom. Epicharmus.
It is better to live lying on the grass, confiding in
divinity and yourself, than t o lie on a golden bed with
. .
perturbation.
You will not be in want of any thing, which it is in
the power of Fortune t o give and take a ~ a v . ~
Despise all those things, which when libkrated from
the body you will not want; and exercising yourself in
those things of which when liberated from the body
you will be in want, invoke the Gods t o become your
helpers .4
either is it possible t o conceal fire in a garment,
nor a base deviation from rectitude in time.
1 The above seven sentences are to be found in p. 4. of Stobaeus,
and as it appears to me are erroneously ascribed to Socrates. For I
conceive them to have been written either by Democrates or Demo-
philus.
Stob. p. 48.
3 Hence the dogma of the Stoics derived its origin, that the wise
man is independent of Fortune.
4 Stob. p. 65. These three sentences are ascribed to Pythagoras.
Wind indeed increases fire, but custom love.'
Those alone are dear t o divinity, who are hostile t o
i nj ust i ~e. ~
Those things which the body necessarily requires,
are easily t o be procured by all men, without labor and
molestation; but those things t o the attainment of
which labor and molestation arc requisite, are objects
of desire, not t o the body, but t o depraved bpinion.
Aristoxenus Pythag. Stob. p. 132.
Of desire also, he [i.e. Pythagoras] said as follows:
This passion is various, laborious, and very multiform.
Of desires however, some are acquired and adventitious,
but others are connascent. But he defined desire
itself t o be a certain tendency and impulse of the soul,
and an appetite of a plenitude or presence of sense,
or of an emptiness and absence of it, and of non-
perception. ' ~ e also said, that there are three most
known species of erroneous and depraved desire, viz.
the indecorous, the incommensurate, and the un-
seasonable. For desire is either immediately in-
decorous, troublesome, and illiberal; or i t is not
absolutely so, but is iore vehement and lasting than
is fit. Or in the third place, i t is impelled when it is
not proper, and t o objects t o which it ought not t o
tend. Ex Aristoxeni Pythag. Sententiis. Stob. p. I 32.
Endeavour not t o conceal your errors by words, but
t o remedy them by reproofs. Pythagoras. ' ~t ob. p. 146.
It is not so difficult t o err, as not t o reprove him who
errs. Pythagoras. Stob. p. 147.
*
As a bodily disease cannot be healed, if it is con-
cealed, or praised; thus also, neither can a remedy be
applied to a diseased soul, which is badly guarded and
protected. Pythagoras. Stob. p. 147.
1 Stob. p. 80. These two sentences are ascribed to Socrates, but
I have no doubt originally formed a part of the sentences of Demo-
philus.
Stob. p. 104. This sentence is ascribed to Democritus in Stobaeus,
but has doubtless either Democrates or Demophilus for its author.
The grace of freedom of speech, like beauty in
season, is productive of greater delight.
It is not proper either t o have a blunt sword, or t o
use freedo& ofaspeech ineffectually.
Neither is the sun t o be taken from the world, nor
freedom of speech from erudition.
As it is for one who is clothed with a sordid
robe, t o have a good habit of body; thus also he whose
life is poor may-possess freedom of speech.l
Be rather delighted with those that reprove, than
with those that flatter you; but avoid flatterers, as
worse than enemies. pithagoras. Stob. p. 149. -
The life of the avaricious resembles a funeral banquet.
For though it has all things [requisite t o a feast,] yet
no one present rejoices. Stob. p. 1 5 5 . ~
Acquire continence as the greatest strength and
wealth. Pythagoras. Stob. p. 156.
"Not frequently man from man," is one of the
exhortations a of pithagoras ; by wGch he obscurely
signifies, that i t is not proper t o be frequently engaged
in venereal connexions. Stob. P. I ~ 6 .
It is impossible that he can bk free who is a slave t o
his Pythagoras. Stob. p. 165.
Pythagoras said, that intoxication is the meditation
of insanity. Stob. p. 16r.
~~t h a g b r a s being'askea, how a lover of wine might
be cured of intoxication, answered, if he frequently
surveys what his actions were when he was intoxicated.
Stob. D. 1 6 ~
pyt6agoGs said, that it was either requisite t o be
Stob. p. 147. The above four sentences, are in Stobaeus ascribed
t o Socrates ; but I refer them either to Democrates or Demophilus.
a This sentence in Stobaeus is ascribed to Socrates, as is also the one
which immediately precedes it, viz. " The wealth of the avaricious
man, like the sun descending under the earth; delights no living thing."
But as this sentence is to be found among the Similitudes of Demo-
philus, there can be no doubt of the other belonging to the same
work.
silent, or t o say something better than silence. Stob.
p* 215,
Let i t be more eligible t o you t o throw a stone in
vain, than t o utter an idle word. Pythagoras. Stob.
p. 215.
Do not say a few things in many words, but much in a
few words. Pythagoras. Stob. p. 216.
Genius is t o men either a good or an evil daemon.
E~icharmus. Stob. P. 220.
A
Pythagoras being ahed, how a man ought t o conduct
himself towards his country, when i t had acted ini-
quitously with respect t o him, replied, as t o a mother.
~ r a i e l l i n ~ teaches a man frugality, and the way in
which he may be sufficient t o himself. For bread made
of milk and'flour, and a bed of grass, are the sweetest
remedies of hunger and labor.
T o the wise man every land is eligible as a place of
residence; for the whole world is the country of the
worthy soule1 Stob. p. 231.
Pythagoras said, that luxury entered into cities in
the first place, afterwards satiety, then lascivious in-
solence, and after all these destruction. Stob. p. 247.
Pythagoras said, that of cities that was the best,
which contained worthy men. Stob. p. 247.
Do those things which you judge t o be beautiful,
though in doing them you should be without renown.
For the rabble is a bad judge of a good thing. [Despise
therefore the reprehension of those whose praise you
despise.] Demophilus. Stob. p. 3 I O . ~
Those that do not punish bad men, wish that good
men may be injured. Pythagoras. Stob. p. 32 I .
It is not possible for a horse t o be governed without
This and the preceding sentence, are in Stobzus ascribed to Demo-
critus, but I attribute them to Democrates or Demophilus.
a This sentence in Stobaeus is ascribed to Pythagoras, but, excepting
the part within the brackets, is to be found among the sentences of
Demophilus.
a bridle, or riches without prudence. Pythagoras.
Stab. p. 513.
It is the same thing t o think greatly of yourself in
prosperity, as t o contend in the race in a slippery road.
Stob. D. c6s.
A < d
There is not any gate of wealth so secure, which the
. V
opportunity of Fortune may not open. ~ t o b . p. 563.1
Expel by reasoning the unrestrained grief of a torpid
soul. St0b. p. 572.
It is the province of a wise man t o bear poverty with
equanimity: Stob. p. ~ 7 2 . ~
*
Spare your life, lest you consume it with sorrow and
car& pithagoras. Stob. p. 616.
Nor will I be silent as t o this particular, that it
appeared both t o Plato and Pythagoras, that old age
was not t o be considered with reference t o an egress
from the present life, but t o the beginning of a blessed
life. From Phavorinus on Old Age. Stob. p. 585.
The two following extracts are from Clemens
Alexandrinus in Stromat. lib. 3. p. 413.
The ancient theologists and priests testify that the
soul is conjoined t o the body through a certain punish-
ment, and that it is buried in this body as in a sepulchre.
Philolaus.
Whatever we see when awake, is death; and when
asleep, a dream. Pythagoras.
This sentence in Stobaeus, is ascribed to Democritus, and that
immediately preceding it, to Socrates ; but I ascribe both of them to
Democrares, or Demophilus.
2 This and the preceding sentences, together with two other sen-
tences that accompany them, are in Stobaeus ascribed to Democritus;
but as the other two are to be found in the Collection of Democrates,
there can be no doubt that all of them are from the same author.
SELECT SENTENCES
SEXTUS THE PYTHAGOREAN.
To neglect things of the smallest consequence, is not
the least thing in human life.
The wise man, and the despiser of wealth, resembles
God.
Do not investigate the name of God, because you
will not find it. For every thing which is called by
a name, receives its ap ellation from that which is
P
more worthy than itself, so that it is one person that
calls, and another that hears. Who is it, therefore,
t hat has given a name t o God? God, however, is no;
a name t o God, but an indication of what we conceive
of him.
God is a light incapable of receiving its contrary
[darkness.]
You have in yourself something similar t o God, and
therefore use yoursell as the tem le of God, on account
of that which in you resembles cod.
Honor God above al l things, that he may rule over
YOU.
Whatever you honor above all things, that which
you so honor will have dominion over you. But if you
give yourself t o the domination of God, you will thus
have dominion over all things.
For as every cause of existence to a thing, is better than that thing,
so far as the one is cause and the other effect ; thus also that which
gives a name to any thing is better than the thing named, so far as it
is named, i.e. so far as pertains to its possession of a name. For the
nominator is the cause, and the name the effect.
I93
The greatest honor which can be paid t o God, is t o
know and imitate him.
There is not any thing, indeed, which wholly re-
sembles God; nevertheless the imitation of him as
much - - as possible by an inferior nature is grateful to
him.
God, indeed, is not in want of any thing, but the
wise man is in want of God alone. He, therefore, who
is in want but of few things, and those necessary,
emulates him who is in want of nothing.
Endeavour t o be great in the estimation of divinity,
but among men avoid envy.
The wise man whose estimation with men was but
small while he was living, will be renowned when he
is dead.
Consider all the time to be lost t o you in which you
do not think of divinity.
A good intellect is the choir of divinity.
A bad intellect is the choir of evil dzmons.
Honor that which is just, on this very account that
. . .
I t 1s Just.
You will not be concealed from divinity when you
act unjustly, nor even when you think of a'cting so.'
The foundation of piety is continence; but the
summit of piety is the love of God.
Wish that what is expedient and not what is pleasing
may happen to you.
Such as you wish your neighbwr to be t o you, such
also be you t o your neighbours.
That which God gives you, no one can take away.
Neither do nor even think of that which you are not
willing God should know.
Before you do any thing think of God, that his light
may precede your energies.
The soul is illuminated by the recollection of deity.
The use of all animals as food is indifferent, but it
is more rational t o abstain from them.
God is not the author of any evil.
13
YOU should not possess more than the use of the
body requires.
Possess those things which no one can take from you.
Bear that which is necessary, as it is necessary.
Ask those t hi ng of God which it is worthy'of God
t o bestow.
The reason which is in you, is the light of your life.
Ask those things of God, which you cannot receive
-
from man.
Wish that those things which labor ought to precede,
may be possessed by you after labor.
Be not anxious t o please the multitude.
It is not proper t o despise those things of which we
shall be in want after the dissolution of the body.
You should not ask of divinity that which, when you
have obtained, you will not perpetually possess.
Accustom your soul after [it has conceived all that
is great of] divinity, to conceive something great of
itself.
Esteem nothing to be precious, which a bad man
may take from you.
k e is dear tb divinity, who considers those things
alone t o be precious, which are esteemed t o be so bYy
divinity.
Every thing which is more than necessary to man,
is hostile to him.
He who loves that which is not expedient, will not
-
love that which is expedient.
The intellect of the wise man is always with divinity.
God dwells in the intellect of the wise man.
Every desire is insatiable, and therefore is always in
want.
The wise man is always similar to himself.
The knowledge and imitation of divinity, are alone
sufficient to beatitude.
Use lying as poison.
In the Latin it is " post dispositionem corporis." But for disposi-
tioncm it is evidently necessary to read dissolutioncm.
Nothing is so peculiar t o wisdom as truth.
When you over men, remember that divinity
also presides over you.
Be persuaded that the end of life, is to live conform-
ablv tb divinitv.
bepraved affections are the beginnings of sorrows.
An evil dis~osition is the disease of the soul: but
injustice and impiety are the death of it.
Use all men in such a way, as if you were the common
curator of all things after God.
He who uses mankind badly, uses himself badly.
Wish that you may be able to benefit your enemies.
Endure all things, in order that you may live con-
formablv to God.
By hGnoring a wise man, you will honor yourself.
In all your actions place God before your eyes.1
You are permitted to refuse matrimony, in order
that you may live incessantly adhering t o God? If,
however, as one knowing the battle, you are willing
to fight, take a wife, and beget children.
To live, indeed, is not in our power, but to live
rightly is.
Be unwilling to admit accusations against the man
who is studious of wisdom.
If you wish to live with hilarity, be unwilling to do
many things. For in a multitude of actions you will
be minor.
Every cup should be sweet to you which extinguishes
- .
thirst.
Fly from intoxication as you would from insanity.
No good originates from the body.
l This is conformable to the well-known Pythagoric precept,
" Follow God."
8 " We can by no other means," (says Porphyry De Abstinen. lib.
I.) " obtain the true end of a contemplative intellectual life than by
adhering to God, if I may be allowed the expression, as if fastened by
a nail, at the same time being torn away and separated from body and
corporeal delights ; having procured safety from our deeds, and not
from the mere attention to words."
Think that you suffer a great punishment when you
obtain the object of corporeal desire ; for the attain-
ment of such objects never satisfies desire.
Invoke God as a witness to whatever you do.
The bad man does not think there is a providence.
Assert that which possesses wisdom in you, to be
the [true] man2
The wise man participates of God.
Where that which is wise in you resides, there also
is your good.
That which is not noxious to the soul, is not noxious
to man.
He who unjustly expels a wise man from the body,
confers a benefit on him by his iniquity. For he thus
becomes liberated as it were, from bonds.
The fear of death renders a man sad through the
ignorance of his soul.
You will not possess intellect, till you understand
that you have it.
Think that your body is the garment of your soul;
and therefore preserve it pure.
Impure daemons vindicate to themselves the impure
soul.
Speak not of God to every man.
1; is dangerous, and the danger is not small, to speak
of God even things which are true.
A true assertion respecting God, is an assertion of
God.
You should not dare t o speak of God to the multi-
tude.
He does not know God who does not worship him.
The man who is worthy of God is also a God among
men.
It is better to have nothing, than to possess much
and impart it to no one.
He who thinks that there is a God, and that nothing
1 But intellect is the recipient of wisdom, and therefore intellect
is the true man.
This also is asserted by -4ristotle.
is taken care of by him, differs in no respect from him
who does not believe that there is a God.
He honors God in the best manner who renders his
intellect as much as possible similar to God.
If you injure no one, you will fear no one.
No one is wise who looks downward to the earth.
To lie is to deceive in life, and to be deceived.
Recognise what God is, and what that is in you
which recognises God.
It is not death, but a bad life, that destroys the soul.
If you know him by whom you were made, you will
know yourself.
It $ not ~ossible for a man to live conformable t o
divinity, unless he acts modestly, well, and justly.
Divine wisdom is true science.
You should not dare to speak of God to an impure soul.
The wise man follows God, and God follows the soul
of the wise man.
A king rejoices in those whom he governs, and there-
fore God reioices in the wise man. He who governs
likewise, is &separable from those whom he Gverns;
and therefore God is inseparable from the soul of the
wise man, which he defends and governs.
The wise man is governed by God, and on this account
is blessed.
A scientific knowledge of God causes a man to use
few words.
To use many words when speaking of God, produces
an ignorance of God.
TXe man who possesses a knowledge of God, will not
be very ambitious.
The erudite,l chaste, and wise soul, is the prophet
of the truth of God.
In the Latin fidelis ; but as Ruffinus, the Latin translator of
these sentences, frequently adulterates the true meaning of Sextus,
by substituting one word for another, I have no doubt that in this
sentence the original was ~ r ~ a t 6 m~ &o s eruditus, and not r r l u~os j del i z.
My reason for so thinking is, that in one of the sentences of Demo-
Accustom yourself always to look to Divinity.
A wise intellect is the mirror of God.
philus it is said, " that the life of ignorant men is a disgrace," r&v
dw&v o*vrc%os irvar T ~ Y Piov; and this in the sentences of Sextus
is, " Hominum injidclium vita, opprobrium est." If, therefore,
Ruffinus translates drpaO&v, in~&lzum, there is every reason to suppose
that he would translate nrra~6cvpEvos,fidcIi~.
PYTHAGORIC SENTENCES,
FROM THE
PROTREPTICS OF 1AMBLICHUS.l
As we live through soul, it must be said that by the
virtue of this we live well; just as because we see
through the eyes, we see well through the virtue of
these.
It must not be thought that gold can be injured by
rust, or virtue by baseness.
We should betake ourselves to virtue as t o an in-
violable temple, in order that we may not be exposed
to any ignoble insolence of soul with respect t o our
communion with, and continuance in life.
We should confide in Virtue as in a chaste wife; but
trust t o Fortune as t o an inconstant mistress.
It is better that virtue should. be received accom-
panied with poverty, than wealth with violence; and
frugality with health, than veracity with disease.
An abundance of nutriment is noxious t o the body:
but the body is preserved when the soul is disposed id
a becoming manner.
It is equally dangerous t o give a sword t o a madman,
and Dower t o a de~raved man.
A; it is better f i r a part of the body which contains
purulent matter to be burnt, than to continue in the
state in which it is, thus also it is better for a depraved
man to die than t o live.
A
The theorems of philosophy are t o be enjoyed as much
Several of these sentences as published by Arcerius, are in a very
defective state ; but which, as the learned reader will perceive, I
have endeavoured to amend i n my translation of them.
I99
as possible, as if they were ambrosia and nectar. For
the pleasure arising from them is genuine, incorruptible,
and divine. They are also capable of producing mag-
nanimity; and though they cannot make us eternal
beings, yet they enable us to obtain a scientific know-
ledge of eternal natures.
If vigor of sensation is considered by us to be an
eligiblew thing, we should much moie strenuously
endeavour to obtain prudence: for it is as it were the
sensitive vigor of thebract ical 'int ellect which we con-
tain. And as through the former we are not deceived
in sensible percepti&s, so through the latter we avoid
false reasoning in practical affairs.
We shall venerate Divinity in a proper manner, if we
render the intellect that is in us pure from all vice, as
*
from a certain stain.
A temple, indeed, should be adorned with gifts, but
the soul with disciplines.
As the lesser mysteries are to be delivered before the
greater, thus also-discipline must precede philosophy.
The fruits of the earth, indeed, are annually im-
parted, but the fruits of philosophy at every f i r t of
the year.
As land is especially to be attended t o by him who
wishes t o obtain from it the most excellent fruit, thus
also the greatest attention should be paid to the soul,
in order that it may produce fruit worthy of its nature.
ADDITIONAL NOTES
ADDITIONAL NOTES
P. 37. BETTER worth saving than ten thousand
corporeal eyes.
Iamblichus here alludes t o what Plato says in the
seventh book of his Republic, respecting thk mathe-
matical disciplines. For he there says, "that the soul
through these disciplines has an oigan purified and
enlightened, which is blinded and buried by studies
of another kind, an organ better worth saving7than ten
thousand - eyes, since truth becomes visible through this
alone."
P. 43.
That in which the Sirens subsist.
"The divine Plato, (says Proclus in his MS. Scholia
on the Cratylus,) knew ihat there are three kinds of
Sirens; the celestial, which is under the government
of Jupiter; that which produces generation, and is under
the government of Neptune; and that which is cath-
artic, and is under the government of Pluto. It is
common t o a11 these t o rncline all things through an
harmonic motion t o their ruling Gods. Hence, when
the soul is in the heavens, thesirens are desirous of
uniting it t o the divine life which flourishes there.
But it is proper that souls living in generation should
sail beyond them, like the Homeric Ulysses, that they
may not be allured by generation, of which the sea is
an image. And when souls are in Hades, the Sirens
are desGous of uniting them through intefiectual con-
ceptions t o Pluto. So that Plato knew that in the
203
kingdom of Hades there are Gods, daemons, and souls,
who dance as it were round Pluto, allured by the Sirens
that dwell there." See more concerning the Sirens in
my translation of Proclus on the Theology of Plato,
Book the 6th.
P. 44.
That i t is requisite to put the shoe on the
right foot jirst.
This audition is taken from what forms the 12th
Symbol in the Protreptics of Iamblichus, and is as
follows: "When stretching forth your feet t o have
your sandals put on, first extend your right foot; but
when about t o use a foot bath, first extend your left
foot." "This Symbol, (says Iamblichus,) exhorts t o
practical prudence, admonishing us t o place worthy
actions about us as right-handed; but entirely to lay
aside and throw away such as are base, as being left-
handed."
P. qq. That i t is not proper to walk in the public ways.
This is the 5th Symbol in the Protreptics of Iam-
blichus, but is there differently expressed: for it is,
"Declining from the public ways, walk in unfrequented
paths." On which Iamblichus observes : " I think that
this Svmbol also contributes t o the same thing as the
preceding, [which is, "Disbelieve nothing wonderful
concerning the Gods, nor concerning divine dogmas "I.
For this exhorts us to abandon a popular and merely
human life; but thinks fit that we should ursue a
E separate and divine life. It also signifies t a t i t is
necessary t o look above common opinions; but very
much t o esteem such as are pri-vate and arcane; and
that we should despise rnerily human delight: but
ardently pursue that felicitous mode of conduct which
adheres t o the divine will. It likewise exhorts us t o
dismiss human manners as popular, and t o exchange
for these the religious cultivation of the Gods, as tran-
scending a popular life.
P. 44.
DO not arsist a man i n laying a burden d o ~n .
This in the Protreptics is the 11th Symbol, and is
explained by Iamblichus as follows : "This Symbol
exhorts t o fortitude; for whoever takes up a burden,
signifies that he undertakes an action of labor and
-
energy; but he who lays one down, of rest and re-
mission. So that the Symbol has the following mean-
ing: Do not become either t o yourself or another the
cause of an indolent and effeminate mode of conduct;
for every useful thing is acquired by labor. But thk
Pythagoreans celebrate this Symbol as Herculean, thus
denominating it from the labors of Hercules. For
during his association with men. he frequently returned
from %re and every thing dreadful, indignaitly reject-
ing indolence. For rectitude of conduct is produced
fr& acting and operating, but not from slug~ishness."
P. 45. DO not draw near to a woman for the sake
of begetting children, if she has gold.
I n the Protreptics of Iamblichus (Symbol 35.) this
is expressed as follows: "Draw not near t o that which
has gold, in order t o produce children." On which
Iamblichus observes* "The Symbol does not here
speak of a woman, but of that sect and philosophy
which has much of the corporeal in it, and a gravitat-
ing tendency downwards. For gold is the heaviest of
all things in the earth, and pursues a tendency t o the
middle, which is the peculiarity of corporeal weight.
But the term t o draw near, not only signifies t o be
connected with, but always to approach towards, and
t o be seated near another."
P. 45. Speak not about Pythagoric concerns without
light.
This is the 13th Symbol in the Protreptics, and is
thus explained by Iamblichus : " This Symbol exhorts
t o the possession of intellectual prudence. For this
is similar t o the light of the soul, t o which being in-
definite it gives bound, and leads, as it were, from dark-
ness into liiht. It is p;oper, therefore, t o piace intellect
as the leader of every thing beautiful in life, but
especially in Pythagoric dogmas; for these cannot be
known without light."
P. 45.
Wear not the image of God i n a ring.
This in the Protreptics is the 24th Symbol; but
instead of wear, it is there inscribe. But Iamblichus'
ex lanation of it is as follows : "This Symbol, conform-
P ab y t o the foregoing conception, employs the follow-
ing exhortation: Philosophize, and before every thing
consider the Gods as having an incorporeal subsistence.
For this is the most principal root of the Pythagoric
dogmas, from which nearly all of them are suspended,
and by which they are strengthened even t o the end.
Do not therefore think that the Gods use such forms
as are corporeal, or that they are received by a material
subject, and by body as a material bond, like other
animals. But the engravings in rings exhibit the bond
which subsists through the ring, its corporeal nature
and sensible form, and the view as it were of some
partial animal, which becomes apparent through the
engraving; from which especially we should separate
the genus of the Gods, as being eternal and intelligible,
and always subsisting according t o the same and in a
similar manner, as we have particularly, most fully,
and scientifically shown in our treatise concerning the
Gods." l
P. 45. Nor is it proper to sacrijice a white cock; for
this also is a suppliant, and is sacred t o the moon.
I n the Protreptics, the 18th Symbol is partly the
same with, and partly different from this.
For it is,
"Nourish a cock; but sacrifice it not; for it is sacred
t o the sun and the moon.'' And ~amblichus explains
it as follows: This Symbol advises us to nourish and
strengthen the body and not neglect it, dissolving and
destroying the mighty tokens of the union, connexion,
sympathy, and consent of the world. So that it ex-
hort's us0 t o engage in the contemplation and philo-
sophy of the universe. For though the truth con-
cerning the universe is naturally occult, and sufficiently
difficult of investigation, it must, however, a t the same
time, be inquiredVinto and investigated by man, and
especially through philosophy. For it is truly im-
possible t o be discovered through any other pursuit.
But philosophy receiving certain sparks, and as it were
viatica, from nature, excites and expands them into
magnitude, rendering them more co~pi cuous through
the disciplines which it possesses. Hence, therefore,
we should philosophize."
P. 45.
I t is proper t o sacrz3ce, and to enter temples,
unshod.
This in the Protreptics is the 3rd Symbol; but is
thus enunciated by Iamblichus, " Sacrifice and adore
unshod." On which Iamblichus observes: "This
Symbol signifies that we ought t o worship the Gods,
1 This work is unfortunately lost.
and acquire a knowledge of them in an orderly and
modest manner, and in a way not surpassing our con-
dition on the earth. It also signifies that in worship-
ping them, and acquiring this knowledge, we should
be free from bonds, and properly liberated. But the
Symbol exhorts that sacrifice and adoration should be
p'erformed not only in the body, but also in the energies
of the soul; so that these energies may neither be de-
tained by passions, nor by the rmbecility of the body,
nor by generation, with which we are externally sur-
roundedT But every thing pertaining t o us shodd be
properly liberated, and prepared for the participation
of the Gods."
P. 57. Enter not into a temple negligently, nor, in
short, adore carelessly, not even though you should
stand at the very doors themselve~.
This in the Protreptics is the 2nd Symbol, and is
explained by Iamblichus as follows: "If the similar is
friendly and allied t o the similar, it is evident that since
the Gods have a most principal essence among wholes,
we ought t o make the worship of them a principal
object. But he who does this for the sake of any thing
else, gives a secondary rank t o that which takes the
precedency of all things, and subverts the whole order
of religious worship and knowledge. Besides, it is not
proper t o rank illustrious goods in the subordinate con-
dition of human utility, nor t o place our concerns in
the order of an end, but things more excellent, whether
they be works or conceptions, in the condition of an
appendage."
P. 58.
These, therefore, he ordered not to eat the
heart.
This is the 30th Symbol in the Protreptics, and is
thus explained by Iamblichus: "This Symbol signifies
that it is not proper t o divulse the union and consent
of the universe. And still further, it signifies this, Be
not envious, but philanthropic, and communicative:
and from this it exhorts us t o philosophize. For
philosophy alone among the sciencesand arts, is neither
pained with the goods of others, nor reioices in the
ivils of neighbouG, these being allied aria familiar by
nature, subject t o the like passions, and exposed t o one
common fortune. It likewise evinces that the future
is equally unlooked for by all men. Hence, it exhorts
us t o sympathy and mutual love, and to be truly com-
municative, as it becomes rational animals."
P. 58. Nor the brain.
This is the 3 1st Symbol in the Protreptics, and which
Iamblichus thus explains : "This Symbol also resembles
the former: for the brain is the ruling instrument of
intellectual prudence. The ~~mbol , ~t her ef or e, ob-
scurely signifies that we ought not to dilacerate nor
mangle things and dogmas, which have been the objects
of judicious deliberation. But these will be such as
have been the subject of intellectual consideration,
becoming thus equal to objects of a scientific nature.
For things of this kind are to be surveyed, not through
the instruments of the irrational form of the soul, such
as the heart and the liver; but through the pure rational
nature. Hence, to dilacerate these by opposition, is
inconsiderate folly; but the Symbol rather exhorts us
to venerate the fountain of intelligence, and the most
proximate organ of intellectual perception, through
which we shall possess contemplation, science, and
wisdom; and by which we shall truly philosophize,
and neither confound nor obscure the vestiges which
philosophy produces."
P. 58. To abstain from mallows, Uc .
The 38th Symbol in the Protreptics is: "Transplant
mallows in your garden, but eat them not." On which
Iamblichus observes as follows : "This Symbol obscurely
signifies that plants of this kind turn with the sun, and
it thinks fit that this should be noticed by us. It also
adds, transplant, that is to say, observe its nature, its
tendency towards, and sympathy with, the sun; but
rest not satisfied, nor dwell upon this, but transfer, and
as it were transplant your conception to kindred plants
and pot-herbs, and also to animals which are not
kindred, to stones and rivers, and, in short, to natures
of every kind. For you will find them to be prolific
and multiform, and admirably abundant; and this to
one who begins from the mallows, as from a root and
principle, is significant of the union and consent of the
world. Not only, therefore, do not destroy or obli-
terate observations of this kind; but increase and
multiply them as if they were transplanted."
P. 59.
Thus too he ordered them to abstain from the
jish Melanurus.l
The 6th Symbol in the Protreptics is, "Abstain from
melanurus; for it belongs to the terrestrial Gods."
And this, according to Iamblichus, admonishes us to
embrace the celestial journey, to conjoin ourselves to
the intellectual Gods, to become separated from a
material nature, and to be led as it were in a circular
progression to an immaterial and pure life. It further
exhorts us to adopt the most excellent worship of the
1 According t o iElian and Suidas also, melnnurur is a fish ; but as
the word signifies that which has a black termination, it is very appro-
priately used as a symbol of a material nature.
Gods, and especially that which pertains to the primary
Gods. "
P. 59.
And also not to rcceive t h e m Erythynrs.
This in the Protreptics is the 33rd Symbol, and which
Iamblichus thus explains: "This Symbol seems to be
merely referred to the etymology of the name. Receive
not an unblushing and impudent man; nor on the con-
trary one stupidly astonished, and who in every thing
blushes, and is humble in the extreme, through the
imbecility of his intellect and reasoning power. Hence
this also is understood, Be not yourself such a one."
P. 59.
He likewise exhorted them to abstain from beans.
In the Protreptics this is the 37th Symbol; and Iam-
blichus has not developed for us the more mvstical
signification of this symbol. For he only says thit " it
admonishes us to beware of every thing which is cor-
ruptive of our converse with the Gods and divine
p&phecy." But Aristotle appears to have assigned
the true mystical reason why the Pvthagoreans abstained
from bean; For he says, (apud ~a kr t . ) that Pythagoras
considered beans as a symbol of generation [i.e. of the
whole of a visible and corporeal nature,] which subsists
according to a right line, and is without inflection;
because a bean alone of almost all spermatic plants, is
perforated through the whole of it, and is not ob-
structed by any intervening joints." I-Icnce he adds,
"it resembles the pates of Hades." For these are per-
petually open with& any impediment to souls descend-
ing into generation. The exhortation, therefore, to
abstain from beans, is equivalent to admonishing us to
viz. Those Gods that are characterized by the intelligible, and
i nt ~l l ect . See my translation of Proclus, On the Theology of Plato.
beware of a continued and perpetual descent into the
realms of generation. Hence the true meaning of the
following celebrated lines in Virgil:
facilis descensus Averno.
Noctes atque dies patet atri janua Ditis:
Sed revocare gradum, superasque evadere ad auras,
Hoc opus, hic labor est.
i.e.
The gates of Hell are open night and day,
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way;
But to return, and view the cheerful skies,
In this, the mighty task and labor lies.
DRYDEN.
P. 72. Such as infallible predictions of earthquakes,
rapid expulsionr of pestilence, Uc . Uc .
Since Pythagoras, as Iamblichus informs us, p. 7, was
initiated in all the mysteries of Byblus and Tyre, in the
sacred operations of the Syrians, and in the mysteries
of the Phcenicians, and also (p. g) that he spent two
and twenty years in the adyta of temples in Egypt,
associated with the Magi in Babylon, and was instructed
by them in their venerable knowledge;-it is not at all
wonderful that he was skilled in magic or theurgy, and
was therefore able to perform things which surpass
muely human power, and which appear to be perfectly
incredible to the vulgar. For "magic," (as we learn
from Psellus in his MS. treatise on Daemons) "formed
the last part of the sacerdotal science." He farther
likewise informs us, " that magic investigates the nature,
power, and quality of every thing sublunary; viz. of
the elements and their parts, of animals, all-various
plants, and their fruits, of stones, and herbs: and in
short, it explores the essence and power of every thing.
From hence, therefore, it produces its effects. And it
forms statues which procure health, makes all-various
figures, and things which become the instruments of
disease. It asserts too, that eagles and dragons can-
tribute t o health; but that cats, dogs, and crows, are
symbols of vigilance, to which therefore they contribute.
But for the fashioning of certain parts, wax and clay
are used. Often, too, celestial fire is made to appear
through magic; and then statues laugh, and lamps are
spontaneously enkindled." See the original in the
Notes to my Pausanias, p. 325. And that theurgy was
em loyed by the ancients in their mysteries, I have
fu 8 y proved in my treatise On the Eleusinian and
Bacchic Mysteries?
Conformably to this, Plato also in the First Alcibiades
says, that the magic of Zoroaster consisted in the wor-
ship of the Gods, on which passage, I shall present the
reader with what I have said, in the first volume of my
Plato, p. 63, as it will enable him to see that the theurgy
of the ancients is founded in a theory equally scientific
and sublime.
" The following account of magic by Proclus, origin-
ally formed, as it appears to me, a part of the Com-
mentary written by him on the present passage. For
the MS. Commentary of Proclus, which is extant on
this dialogue, does nbt extend to more than a third
part of it ; and this Dissertation on Magic, which is
only extant in Latin, was published by Ficinus the
translator, immediately after his. Excerpta from this
Commentary. So that it seems highly probable, that
the manuscript from which Ficinus translated his
Excerpt a, waimuch more perfect, than that which has
* -
been preserved to us, in cohsequence of containing this
account of the magic of the ancients.
"In the same manner as lovers gradually advance
from that beauty which is apparentwin sensible forms,
to that which is divine; so the ancient priests, when
1 See the second edition of this work in Nos. 15 and 16 of the
Pamphleteer.
they considered that there is a certain alliance and
sympathy in natural things to each other, and of things
manifest t o occult powers, and discovered that all
things subsist in all,'they fabricated a sacred science
from this mutual sympathy and similarity. Thus they
recognized things supreme in such as are subordinate,
and the subordinate in the supreme: in the celestial
regions, terrene properties subsisting in a causal and
celestial manner; and in earth celestial properties, but
accord in^ to a terrene condition. For how shall we
account "for those plants called heliotropes, that is,
attendants on the sun, moving in correspondence with
the revolution of its orb, but selenitropes, or attendants
on the moon, turning in exact conformity to her motion ?
It is because all things pray, and hymn the leaders of
their respective orders; but some intellectually, and
others rationally; some in a natural, and others after
a sensible manner. Hence the sun-flower, as far as it
is able, moves in a circular dance towards the sun; so
that if any one could hear the pulsation made by its
circuit in the air, he would perceive something com-
posed by a sound of this kind, in honor of its king, such
as a lant is capable of framing. Hence, too, we may
beho P d the sun and moon in the earth, but according
t o a terrene quality; but in the celestial regions, an
plants, and stones, and animals, possessing an intellectual
life according to a celestial nature. Now the ancients,
having contemplated this mutual sympathy of things,
applied for occult purposes, both celestial and terrene
natures, by means of which, through a certain simili-
tude, they deduced divine virtues into this inferior
abode. For, indeed, similitude itself is a sufficient
cause of binding things together in union and consent.
Thus, if a piece of paper is heated, and afterwards placed
near a lamp, though it does not touch the fire, the paper
will be suddenly inflamed, and the flame will descend
from the suverior to the inferior Darts. This heated
A I
paper, we may compare to a certain relation of inferiors
to superiors; and its approximation to the lamp, to the
opportune use of things according to time, place, and
matter. But the procession of fire into the paper, aptly
revresents the presence of divine light, to that nature
u .
which is capable of its reception. Lastly, the inflam-
mation of tb paver may be ;ompared to the deification
A A
of mortals, and to the $urnination of material natures,
which are afterwards carried upwards like the en-
kindled - paper, from a certain participation of divine
seed.
"Again, the lotus, before the rising of the sun, folds
its leaves into itself, but eraduallv expands them on its
rising : unfolding 'them" in prdpor;ion to the sun's
ascent t o the zenith; but as gradually contracting
them, as that luminary descends to the west. Hence
this plant, by the expansion and contraction of its
leaves, appears no less to honor the sun, than men by
the gesture of their eye-lids, and the motion of their
lips. But this imitation and certain participation of
sipernal light, is not only visible in' which
possess nothing more than a vestige of life, but likewise
in particular stones. Thus the sun-stone, by its golden
rays, imitates those of the sun; but the stone called the
eye of heaven, or of the sun, has a figure similar to the
pupil of an eye, and a ray shines from the middle of the
pupil. Thus too the lunar stone, which has a figure
similar to the moon when horned, by a certain change
of itself, follows the lunar motion. Lastly, the stone
called helioselenus, i.e. of the sun and mobn, imitates,
after a manner, the congress of those luminaries, which
it images by its color. So that all things are full of
divine natures; terrestrial natures receiving the pleni-
tude of such as are celestial, but celestial of supercelestial
essences : l while everv . order of thing; proceeds
gradual$ in a beautifui descent from the hkhest t o
the lowest. For whatever particulars are collected
into one above the order df things, are afterwards
1 i.e. Natures which are not connected with body.
dilated in descending, various souls being distributed
under their various ruling divinities.
"In the next place, there are many solar animals,
such as lions and cocks, which participate, according
to their nature, of a certain solar divinity; whence it
is wonderful how much inferiors yield to superiors in
the same order, though they do not yield in magnitude
and power. Hence it is said, that a cock is very much
feared, and as it were reverenced, by a lion; the reason
of which we cannot assign from matter or sense, but
from the contemplation alone of a supernal order. For
thus we shall find that the presence of the solar virtue
accords more with a cock than with a lion. This will
be evident from considering that the cock, as it were,
with certain hymns, applauds and calls to the rising
sun, when he bends his course to us from the antipodes;
and that solar angels sometimes appear in forms of this
kind, who though they are without shape, yet present
themselves to us who are connected with shape, in some
sensible form. Sometimes too there are daemons with
a leonine front, who, when a cock is placed before
them, unless they are of a solar order, suddenly dis-
appear; and this, because those natures which have an
inferior rank in the same order, always reverence their
superiors; just as many, on beholding the images of
divine men, are accustomed, from the very view, t o be
fearful of perpetrating any thing base.
"In fine, some things turn round correspondent to
the revolutions of the sun, as the plants which we have
mentioned, and others after a manner imitate the solar
rays, as the palm and the date; some the fiery nature
of the sun, as the laurel; and others a different property.
For, indeed, we may perceive that the properties which
are collected in the sun, are every where distributed to
subsequent natures constituted in a solar order; that
is, to angels, daemons, souls, animals, plants, and stones.
Hence the authors of the ancient priesthood discovered
from things apparent, the worship of superior powers,
while they mingled some things and purified others.
They mingled many things indeed together, because
they saw that some simple substances possessed a divine
property (though not taken singly) sufficient t o call
down that particular power, of which they were parti-
cipants. Hence, by the mingling of many things
together, they attracted upon us a supernal influx; and
by the composition of one thing from many, they pro-
duced an assimilation to that one which is above many;
and composed statues from the mixture of various sub-
stances ;onspiring in sympathy and consent. Besides
this, they collected composite odours, by a divine art,
into one, comprehending a multitude of powers, and
symbolizing with the unity of a divine essence; con-
sidering that division debilitates each of these, but that
mingling them together, restores them t o the idea of
their exemplar.
"But soietimes one herb, or one stone, is sufficient
to a divine operation. his, a thistle is'sufficient to
procure the sudden appearance of some superior power;
but a laurel, raceinum, (or a thorny kind of sprig) the
land and sea onion, the coral, the diamond, and the
jasper, operate as a safepard. - The heart of a mole is
subservient to divination, but sulphur and marine water
to purification. ~ e n c e ; the aGcient priests. by the
* 4
rnuiual relation and sympathy of things' t o each other,
collected their virtues into one, but expelled them by
repugnancy and antipathy; purifying when it wis
requisite with sulphur and bitumen, and sprinkling
with marine water. For sulphur purifies, from the
sharpness of its odour; but Garine hater, on account
of its fiery portion. Besides this, in the worship of the
Gods, they offered animals, and other substances con-
gruous to their nature; and received, in the first place,
the powers of daemons, as proximate to natural sub-
stances and operations; and by these natural substances
they convoked into their presence those powers to which
they approached. Afterwards, they proceeded from
daemons to the powers and energies of the Gods; partly,
indeed, from daemoniacal instruction, but partly by
their own industry, interpreting convenient symbols,
and ascending to a proper intelligence of the Gods.
And lastly, laying aside natural substances and their
operations, they received themselves into the com-
munion and fellowship of the Gods."
It will doubtless be objected by most of the present
period, who believe in nothing beyond the information
of their senses, that plants, animals, and stones, no
longer possess -those wonderful sympathetic
which are mentioned by Proclus in the above extract.
I n answer to any such objector, whose little soul, (in the
language of the Emperor Julian) is indeed acute, but
sees nothing with a vision healthy and sound, it must
be said, that this is not at all wonderful a t a period,
when, as the author of the Asclepian dialogue justly
observes. "there is a lamentable departure of divinitv
I I
from man, when nothing worthy of heaven, or celestih
concerns, is heard or believed, and when every divine
voice is by a necessary silence dumb." l B U ~ to the
philosophic reader, it must be observed, that as in the
realms of generation, or in other words, the sublunary
region, whGles, viz. the spheres of the different element;,
remain perpetually according -. to nature; but their parts
are sometimes according, and some times contrary t o
nature ; this must also b; true of the parts of the earth.
When those circulations therefore take place, during
which the parts of the earth subsist accordhg to nature,
and which are justly called, by Plato, fertile periods,
the powers of plants, animals; and stones, magically
sympathize with superior natures, in consequence of a
more abundant participation of them, through a greater
degree of aptitude to receive, and alliance to the parti-
cipated powers. But during those circulations, in
1 See an extract of some length, and of the greatest importance,
from this dialogue, in my translation of Select Works of Plotinus,
which the parts of the earth subsist contrary t o nature,
as at present, and which Plato calls barren periods, the
powers of plants, animals, and stones, no longer possess
a magic sympathy, and consequently are no longer
capable of producing magical operations.
P. 78. The eternal essence of number is the most
providential principle of the uni ve~se, Wc.
The following account of the manner in which t he
Pythagoreans p6ilosophized about numbers, is extracted
from my Theoretic Arithmetic, and the information
contained in it is principally derived from the great
S yrianus.
"The Pythagoreans, turning from the vulgar paths,
and delivering their philosophy in secret t o those alone
who were worthy t o receive it, exhibited it t o others
through mathematical names. Hence, they called
forms, numbers, as things which are the first separated
from impartible union; for the natures which are above
forms, are also above separati0n.l The all-perfect
multitude of forms, therefbre, they obscurely si'gnified
through the duad; but they indicated the first formal
principles by the monad and duad, as not being
numbers; and also by the first triad and tetrad, as
being the first numbers, the one 'being odd, and -the
other even, from which by addition the decad is
generated; for the sum of I , 2, 3, and 4, is ten. But
after numbers, in secondary and multifarious lives,
,
introducing geometrical prior t o physical magnitudes;
these also they referred t o numbers, as t o formal causes
and the principles of these; referring the point indeed,
1 Forms subsist at t he extremity of t he intelligible triad, which
triad consists of being, life, and intellect. But being and life, with
all they contain, subsist here involved in impartible union. See my
Proclus on t he Theology of Plato.
as being im artible, to the monad; but a line, as the
first interva f , to the duad; and again, a superficies, as
having a more abundant interval, to the triad; and
a solid to the tetrad. Thev also called. as is evident1
from the testimony of ~ri Aot l e. the fiist length the1
duad; for it is not simply length, but t hef i r ~t ' i en~t h, ~
in order that by this they might signify cause. In a1
similar manner also, they denominated the first breadth,
the triad; and the firit depth the tetrad. Thev also'
referred to formal principfes all psychical knowiedge. 1
And intellectual knowledge indeed, as being contracted /
according t o impartible union. thev referred to the
monad ; Ybut scieitific knowledgk, as being evolved, and
as proceeding from cause to the thing caused, yet
through the inerratic, and always through the same1
things, they referred to the duad; and oFinion t o the 1
triad. because the Dower of it is not alwavs directed to I
I
the same thing. bi t a t one time incline: to the true.
and at a n o t h e h the false. And thev referred sens; 1
t o the tetrad, because it has an appreh&sion of bodies; 1
for in the duad, indeed, there is one interval from one 1
monad to the other; but in the triad there are two 1
intervals from any one monad to the rest; and in the I
tetrad there are three. They referred. therefore. to !
principles every thing knowable, viz. bkings, and 'the I
gnostic powers of these. But they divided beings not 1
according to breadth, but according to depth; into 1
intelligibles, objects of science, objects of opinion, and
sensibles. In a similar manner, also, they divided
knowledge into intellect, science, opinion, and sense.
The extremity, therefore, of the intelligible triad, or 1
animal itself. as it is called by Plato in the Timzeus, 1
- I
is assumed from the division of the obiects of knowledge,
manifesting the intelligible order, in Shich forms t h e k
selves, viz-the first f&ms and the principles of these, 1
are contained, viz. the idea of the oi e itself, of the first 1
length, which is the duad itself, and also the ideas of
thefirst breadth and the first depth; (for in common 1
the termfirst is adapted to all of them), viz. t o the triad
itself, and the tetrad itself.
"Again, the Pythagoreans and Plato did not denomi-
nate idea from one thing, and ideal number from
another. But since the assertion is eminently true,
that all things are similar t o number, it is evident that
number, and especially every ideal number, was denomi-
nated on account of its paradigmatic peculiarity. If
any one, however, wishes t o apprehend this from the
appellation itself', i t is easy t o infer that idea was so
called, from rendering as it were its participants similar
t o itself, and imparting t o themform, order, beauty, and
unity; and this in consequence of always preserving
the same form, expanding its own power t o the infinity
of particulars, and investing with the same species its
eternal participants. Number also, since i t imparts pro-
portion and elegant arrangement t o al l things, was
allotted this appellation. For the ancients, says Syri-
anus,' call t o adapt or compose 4vai arsai, whence is
derived 4pOpk arithmos number. Hence Bvaipaiov anar-
$ion among the Greeks signifies incomposite. Hence too,
those Grecian sayings, you will adapt the balance, they
placed number together with them, and also number and
friendship. From all which number was called by the
Greeks arithmos, as that which measures and orderly
arranges all things, and unites them in amicable leag&.
"Farther still, some of the Pythagoreans discoursed
about inseparable numbers alone, i.e. numbers which
are inseparable from mundane natures, but others about
such asahave a subsistence separate fiorn the universe,
in which as paradigms they saw those numbers are con-
tained, which are perfected by nature. But others,
making a distinction between the two, unfolded their
doctrine in a more clear and perfect manner. If it be
requisite, however, t o speak ioncerning the difference
of these monads, and their privation of difference, we
must say that the monads which subsist in quantity,
In Aristot. Metaphys. Lib. 13.
are by no means t o be extended to essential numbers ;
but when we call essential numbers monads, we must
assert that all of them mutually differ from each other
by difference itself, and that thky possess a privation of
difference from sameness. It is evident also, that those
which are in the same order, are contained through
mutual comparison, in sameness rather than in difference,
but that those which are in different orders are con-
versant with much diversity, through t he dominion
of difference.
" Again, t he Pythagoreans asserted that nature pro-
duces sensibles by numbers; but then these numbers
were not mathematical but physical; and as they spoke
symbolically, it is not imGobable t ha t they demon-
Grated ever; DroDertv of sensibles bv maihematical
d l L d d
names. However, says Syrianus, t o ascribe t o them
a knowledge of sensible numbers alone, is not only
ridiculous, but highly impious. For they received
indeed, from the theology of Orpheus, the principles
of intelligible and intellectual numbers, they assigned
them an abundant progression, and extended their
dominion as far as t o sensibles themselves."
Again, their conceptions about mathematical and
physical number, were as follow:
"AS in every'thing, according t o t he doctrine of
Aristotle, one thing corresponds 6 matter, and another
t o form,& any nuhber, as for instance the pentad, its
five monads, and in short its quantity, and the number
which is the subject of particlpatiod~are derived from
the duad itself; but its form, i.e. the pentad itself, is
A
from the monad: for every form is a monad, and
unites its subiect auantitv. The ventad itself. there-
J A J I
fore, which is a monad, proceeds from the principal
monad, forms its subject quantity, which is itself form-
less, and connects it t o i t s own form. For there are
two principles of mathematical numbers in our souls:
the &mad; which comprehends in itself all the forms
of numbers, and corresponds t o the monad in intel-
lectual natures: and the duad, which is a certain
generative principle of infinite power, and which on this
account, as being the image of the never-failing and
intelligible duad, is called indefinite. While this pro-
ceeds To all things, it is not deserted in its course b J the
monad, but that which proceeds from the monad con-
tinually distinguishes and forms boundless quantity,
gives a specific distinction t o all its orderly progressions,
and incessantly adorns them with forms. And as in
mundane natures, there is neither any thing formless,
nor any vacuum among the species of things, so like-
wise in mathematical number, neither is any quantity
left innumerable; for thus the forming power of the
monad would be vanq~ished by t he indefinite duad,
nor does any mediumA interveie between the conse:
quent numgers, and the well-disposed energy of the
monad.
"Neither, therefore, does the pentad consist of sub-
stance and accident, as a white man; nor of genus and
difference, as man of animal and biped; nor of five
monads mutually touching each other, like a bundle
of wood; nor of things mingled, like a drink made from
wine and honey; nor of things sustaining position, as
stones by their position complete the house; nor lastly,
as things numerable, for these are nothing else than
particulars. But it does not follow that numbers them-
Helves, because they consist of indivisible monads, have
nothing else besides monads, (for' the multitude of
points in continued quantity is an indivisible multitude,
yet it is not on this account that there is a completion
bf something else from the points themselvesj; but
this takes place because there is something i n them
which corresponds t o matter, and sometGng which
corresponds t o form. Lastly, when we unite the
triad k i t h the tetrad, we say that we make seven.
The assertion, however, is not true: for monads con-
joined wit11 monads, produce indeed the subject of the
number 7, but nothing more. Who then imparts t he
heptadic form t o these monads? Who is it also that
gives the form of a bed t o a certain number of pieces
of wood? Shall we not say that the soul of the
carpenter, from the art which he possesses, fashions the
wood, so as t o receive the form of a bed, and that the
numekative soul, from possessing in heiself a monad
which has the relation of a principle, gives form and
subsistence t o all numbers? But in this onlv consists
the difference, that the carpenter's art is not4naturally
inherent in us, and requires manual operation, because
i t is conversant with sensible matter; but the numera-
tive art is naturally present with us, and is therefore
possessed by all men, and has an intellectual matter
which it instantaneously invests with form. And this
is that which deceives t he multitude, who think that
the heptad is nothing besides seven monads. For the
imagination of the <ulgar, unless it first sees a thing
unadorned, afterwards the supervening energy of the
adorner, and lastly, above all the thing itself, perfect
and formed, cannot be persuaded that it has two
natures, one formless, the other formal, and still further,
that which beyond - these imparts form ; but asserts
that the subjec; is one, and without generition. Hence,
perhaps, the ancient theologists and Plato ascribed
Zemp6ral generations t o t hi ng without generation, and
t o things which are perpetually adorned, and regularly
disposed, privation of order and ornament, the erron-
eois and the boundless, that they might lead men t o
the knowledge of a formal and effective cause. It is,
therefore, b; no means wonderful, that though seven
- .
sensible monads are never without the heptid, these
should be distinguished by science, and that the former
should have the relation of a sub~ject, and be analogous
t o matter, . - but the latter should~correspond t o species
and form.
"Again, as when water is changed into air, the water
does not become air, or the subject of air, but that
which was the subject of water becomes the subject of
air. so when one number unites itself with another, as
forkstance the triad with the duad, the species or foims
of the two numbers are not miniled, except in their
immaterial reasons (or producti~e~principlesj, in which
at the same time that they are separate, they are not
impeded from being uniteh, but the quantities of the
two numbers which are placed together, become the
subject of the pentad. The triad, therefore, is one,
and also the tetrad, even in mathematical numbers: for
though in the ennead or number nine, you may con-
ceive a first, second, and third triad, yet you see one
thing thrice assumed; and in short, in ihe ennead there
is nothing but the form of the ennead in the quantity
of nine monads. But if you mentally separate its sub-
ject, (for form is impartible) you will immediately in-
vest it with forms corresponding to its division; for our
soul cannot endure t o see t ha t which is fordess. un-
adorned, . especially - as she possesses the power of invest-
ing it with ornament.
<<
Since also separate numbers possess a demiurgic or
fabricative power, which mathematical numbers imitate,
the sensibh world likewise contains images of tho&
numbers by which it is adorned; so that : U things are
in all, but in an appropriate manner in each. The
sensible world, therefore, subsists from immaterial and
energetic reasons, and from more ancient causes.
But
those who do not admit that nature herself is full of
productive powers, lest they should be obliged t o double
things themselves, these wonder how from things void
of magnitude and gravity, magnitude and gravity are
composed; though they are never composed from
things of this kind which are void of gravity and magni-
tude, as from parts. But magnitude is generated from
essentially impartible elements; since form and matter
are the elements of bodies; and still much more is it
generated from those truer causes which are considered
in demiurgic reasons and forms. Is it not therefore
necessary that al l dimensions, and all moving masses,
' 5
must from these receive their generation? For either
bodies are unbegotten, like incorporeal natures; or of
things with interval, things without interval are the
causes; of partibles impartibles; and of sensibles and
contraries, things insensible and void of contact: and
we must assent t o those who assert that things possess-
ing magnitude are thus generated from impartibles.
Hence the Pythagorean Eurytus, and his followers,
beholding the images of things themselves in numbers,
rightly attributed certain numbers t o certain things,
according t o their peculiarity. I n consequence of this,
he said that a particular number is the boundary of this
plant, and again, another number of this animal; just as
of a triangle 6 is the boundary, of a square 9, and of a
cube 8. As the musician, too, harmonizes his lyre
through mathematical numbers, so nature through her
own natural numbers, orderly arranges, and modulates
her productions.
"Indeed, that numbers are participated by the
heavens, and that there is a solar number, and also
a lunar number, is manifest according t o the adage,
even t o the blind. For the restitutions of the heavenly
bodies t o their pristine state ( ~ ~ o r a ~ o l u r a ~ r c s ) would
not always be effected through the same things, and in
the same manner, unless one and the same number had
dominion in each. Yet all these contribute t o the pro-
cession of the celestial spheres, and are contained by
their perfect number. But there is also a certain
natural number belonging t o every animal. For things
of the same species would not be distinguished by
organs after the same manner, nor would they arrive
at puberty and old age about the same time, or generate,
nor would the foetus be nourished or increase, accord-
ing to regular periods, unless they were detained by
the same measure of nature. According t o the best
of the Pythagoreans also, Plato himself, number is the
cause of better and worse generations. Hence though
the Pythagoreans sometimes speak of the squares and
cubes of natural numbers, they do not make them to
be monadic, such as the number 9, and the number 27;
but they signify through these names, from similitude,
the progression of natural numbers into, and dominion
about, generations. In like manner, though they call
them equal or double, they exhibit the dominion and
symphony of ideas in these numbers. Hence different
things do not use the same number, so far as they are
different, nor do the same things use a different number,
so far as thev are the same.
"In she;, physical numbers are material forms
divided about the subject which receives them. But
material Dowers are the sources of connexion and modi-
fication ;o bodies. For form is one thing, and the
power proceeding from it another. For f&m itself is
indeed impartible and essential; but being extended,
and becoming bulky, it emits from itself, as if it were
a blast, material powers which are certain qualities.
Thus, for instance, in fire, the form and essence of it
is impartible, and is truly the image of the cause of fire;
for in partible natures, the impartible has a subsistence.
But from form which is impartible in fire, and which
subsists in it as number, an extension of it accompanied
with interval takes place about matter, from which the
powers of fire are emitted, such as heat, or refrigeration,
or moisture, or something else of the like kind. And
these qualities are indeed essential; but are by no means
the essence of fire. For essences do not proceed from
qualities, nor are essence and power the same thing.
But the essential every where precedes power. And
from this being one the multitude of powers proceeds,
and the distributed from that which is undistri-
buted; just as many energies are the progeny of one
power."
P. 79. For Pythagoras always proclaimed, that nothing
admirable pertaining to the Gods, or divine dogmas,
~hould be disbelieved.
This in the Protreptics forms the fourth symbol, and
is thus explained by 1amblichus:-"This dogma suffi-
cientlv venerates and unfolds the transcendencv of the
d d
Gods, affording us a viaticum, and recalling to our
memory that we ought not to estimate divine power
from our judgment. But it is likely that some t hi ng
should appear difficult and impossible to us, in con-
seauenc; of our corporeal subshence. and &om our
behg conversant wi d generation and corruption; from
our having a momentary existence ; from being subject
to a variety of diseases; from the smallness of our
.
habitation ; from our gravitating tendency to the
middle; from our somnolency, indigence and repletion;
from our want of counsel and our imbecility; from the
impediments of our soul, and a variety of ofher circum-
stances, although our nature possesse's many illustrious
prerogatives. At the same time however we perfectly
fall short of the Gods, and neither Dossess the same
power with them, nor equal virtue. his symbol there-
tore in a particular manner introduces the knowledge of
the Gods, as beings who are able to effect all things.
On this account it Gxhorts us to disbelieve nothing con-
cerning the Gods. It also adds, nor about divine d o ~ -
mas; &. those belonging to theSpythagoric
For these being secured by disciplines and scientific
theory, are alone true and free from falsehood, being
corroborated by all-various demonstration, accompanied
with necessity. The same symbol, also, is capable of
exhorting us to the science concerning the Gods: for
it urges us to acquire a science of that kind, through
which we shall be in no respect deficient in things
asserted about the Gods. It is also able to exhort tge
same things concerning divine dogmas, and a disciplina-
tive progression. For disciplines alone give eyes to,
and produce light about, all things, in him who intends
to consider and survey them. For from the participa-
tion of disciplines, one thing before al l others is effected,
viz. a belief in the nature, essence. and power of the
Gods, and also in those pythagoric d&mas,hhich appear
to be prodigious to such as have not been introduced
to, and are &initiated in, disciplines. So that the pre-
cept disbelieve not is equivalent i o participate and aciuirc
those things through which you will not disbelieve ; that
is to say, acquire disciplines and scientific demonstra-
tions."
P. 65. After this manner thmfoorc i t is said that
mu~i c was discovered by Py thagoras.
The following particulars relative to music are added
for the purpose of elucidating what is said about it in
this chapter.
" ~ a k e two brazen chords, such as are used in harps;
for those chords which are made from the intestines of
sheep are for the most part either false or obnoxious
to the change of the air.
"Let these chords be perfectly equal, and equally
stretched, so as to be in unison, i.e. so that there may
be only one sound, though there are two strings. But
it is requisite that they should be placed upon some
oblong and polished rule. The ancients called this
rule an harmonic rule, or also a monochord, by which
instrument all consonances and dissonances, and like-
wise musical intervals, were tried. Let now one of
these chords be bisected in E. Afterwards under the
---
---
---
---
---
--
point E place what is vulgarly called the tactus, but
which was denominated by the ancients, from its figure,
a hemisphere. The tactus, therefore, being placed
under E, press there the chord, so that one half of it
only, as for instance ED, may be wholly struck and
resound. Having therefore struck each of the chords
at the same time, viz. the whole of AB, and the half
ED, so that they may resound at one and the same
time. you will hear ihe sweetest of all consonances,
compdsed from the sound of the whole chord AB, and
the sound of the half ED. This consonance the
ancients called diapason, i.e. through all [the chords],
because in the musical instruments of the ancients, the
two extreme chords, i.e. the most grave, and the most
acute of all the chords, contained this consonance; so
that, from the gravest chord having made a transition
through all the chords to the supreme and most acute
of all, they would hear this sweetest consonance. It
was, likewise, said to be in a duple ratio of the propor-
tion of one sound to the other. For the sound of the
chord AB is doubly greater or more grave than the
sound of the half ED. For as sounding bodies are to
each other, so are their sounds. But the chord AB is
the double of ED. This, however, is now commonly
called the octave, because from the first sound, and
that the gravest,-which is called ut, as far as ti that
sound which corresponds to it in the consonance dia-
A
pason, there are these eight sounds, ut, re, mi, fa, sol,
re, mi, fa. And of these the first ut, and the last fa,
which is the eighth, produce the consonance diapason,
or the double, or the octave.
Again, let t he same chord CD be divided into three
equal parts in the points F, G.
FD, therefore, will be two-thirds as well of the whole
C D ~ S of the whole AB. Let the tactus now be placed
in F, and let AB and FD be struck at the same time,
and a consonance very sweet and perfect will indeed
be heard, yet not so sweet as the diapason. This the
ancients falled diapente (i.e. throigh five chords),
because the first and the fifth chord produce this con-
sonance. But according to it is called ses-
quialter, because the chord AB is sesquialter to FD,
and consequently the sounds of these chords also are
in the sa&e rat[o. But sesquialter ratio is when the
greater quantity AB containsthe less FD once, and the
half of it besides. It is, indeed, commonly called the
fifth, because it is composed from the first sound ut,
and the fifth, sol.
Again, let the same chord be cut into four equal
parts in the points H, E, I,
so that the chord HD, may be three-fourths of the
whole CD. The tactus, therefore, being placed in H,
let AB and HD be struck a t one and the same time,
and a consonance will be heard, indeed, yet more im-
perfect than the preceding two. This was called by
the ancients diatessaron, i.e. through four chords or
sounds, for a similar reasdn to that by which the former
were denominated. With reference, however, to the
ratio of t he chords and sounds, it is called sesquitertian,
because the greater AB contains the less once, and a
third part of Tt besides. But it is now commonly called
a fourth, because it is found between the first sound
ut, and the fourth fa. If now the point F be added in
thk preceding figire, and a t one Hnd the same time
two chords HD and FD are compared in arithmetical
ratios, we shall find that the greater HD will have to
the less FD a sesquioctave ratio, and the sound of the
greater HD to the less FD will have the same ratio,
i.e. in modern terms, that between fa and sol there is
a sesauioctave ratio. But if these two sounds are heard
together,, they will be discordant to the ear. Again,
the distance between these sounds fa, sol, or between
the chords HD and FD, or between the two harmonic
intervals HD and FD, the ratio of which was sesaui-
octave, was called by ;he ancients a tone. ~f t er war ds
they divided the whole of CD into nine equal parts,
the first of which is divided in K, so that the whole
CD may have to the remainder KD, which contains
eight of those parts, a sesquioctave raGo. This, in like
manner, will be the interval of a tone, the first sound
of which, i.e. of the whole CD, is now called ut, but
the second sound of the rest of the chord KD is called
re. Afterwards they in a similar manner divided the
remainder KD into nine parts, the first part of which
is marked in the point L. And for the same reason
between the chord KD and the chord LD, and their
sounds, there will be a sesquioctave ratio. The sound
of the chord LD is now called mi ; but the interval
which remains between the chord LD and the chord
HD has not a sesquioctave ratio, but less than it almost
by half, and therefore an interval of this kind was called
a semitone, and also diesis or a division. But that
i nt er ~al which remains between the points F and E
they divided after the same manner as tLe space between
C and H was divided, and they again found the same
sounds. Let those divisi.ons be marked by the points
M and N; and here, also, between N and E: or between
mi and fa, there is in like manner another semitone.
These eight sounds, therefore, are at, re, mi, fa, sol,
re, mi, fa; which compose the whole diapason. -For as
we have before observed, between ut and the last fa
is the consonance diapason, or between the chord CD
Because g is to # as 9 to 8.
or AB, and the chord ED. But from the intervals
which are between the sounds there are two semitones,
viz. one between mi and fa, denoted by the letters
L, N, and the other between the last mi andfa, denoted
by the letters N, E. The remaining five intervals are
entire tones. It must, also, be observed, that from ut
t o the first sol is the consonance diapente, which
contains three tonic intervals, and one semitone;
nevertheless in all there are five sounds, ut, re, mi,
fa, sol.
-
Again, from sol t o the last fa there are four sounds,
sol, re, mi, fa, which are perfectly similar t o the first
four, ut, re, mi, fa. Nevertheless these are more grave,
but those are more acute. And as from ut t o the first
fa is the diatessaron, so likewise from sol t o the last fa
is another diatessaron; from which, in the last place,
it must be observed, i t follows that the two conson-
ances diatessaron and diapente constitute the whole
diapason; or that the dipason is divided into one
diatessaron, and one diapente. For from ut t o sol is
the diapente, but from sol t o the last fa is the dia-
tessaron. This will also be the case if we should say
that from at t o the first fa is the diatessaron, as is
evident from the division of the chord; but from the
first fa t o the last fa is the diapente, as 'is evident from
the four intervals of the chord, three of which are
tones, and the remaining interval is a semitone, which
also in the other diapente were contained between ut
and sol.
Now again, let the tactus be placed in I; but I is
the fourth part of the whole CD. Let, also, AB and
ID be struck at one and the same time, and the sweetest
consonance, called bisdiapason, will be produced; which
is so denominated, because it is composed from two
diapasons, of which the first is between AB or CD, and
ED, but the second is between ED and ID ; for the
ratio of these is double as well as of those. The ratio,
also, of the bisdiapason is quadruple, as is evident from
the division; and is commonly called a fifteenth, be-
cause from the first ut t o this sound, which is also
denominated fa, there would be fifteen sounds, if the
interval EI were divided after the same manner as the
first CE is divided.
Farther still, let GD be a third part of the whole CD,
and let the tactus be placed in G. Then at one and the
same time let AB and GD be struck, and a sweet con-
sonance will be heard, which is called diapasondiapente,
because it is composed from one diapason contained
by the interval CE, or the two chords CD, ED, and
one diapente, contained by the interval EG, or the
chords ED, GD. For the chord ED is sesquialter t o
the chord GD; which ratio constitutes the nature of
the diapente. The proportion, also, of this consonance
is triple. For the chord AB or CD is triple of GD;
and it is commonly called t he twelfth, because between
ut and sol, denoted by the letter G, there would be
twelve sounds, if the interval EG received its divisions.
From all which it is manifest by the experience of the
ear, that there are altogether five consonances, three
simple, the diapason, the diapente, and the diatessaron;
but - -
two composite, the bisdiapason, and the diapason-
diapente.
I n the last place, it is necessary t o observe that those
ancient Greeks differently denominated these sounds,
ut, 78, &c. For the first, i:e. the gravest sound or chord;
which is now called at, they denominated hypate, and
the others in the following order:
Ut,
Re,
Mi,
Fa,
Sol,
Re,
Mi,
Fa,
Hypate, i.e. Principalis.
Parhypate, - Postprincipalis.
Lychanos, - Index.
Mese, - Media.
Paramese, - Postmedia.
Trite, - Tertia.
Paranete, - Antepenultima.
Nete, - Ultima, vel suprema.
P. 80. 1 $weal by him who the tetractyr found.
The tetrad was called by the Pythagoreans every
number, because it comprehends in itself all the
numbers as far as t o the decad, and the decad itself;
for the sum of I, 2, 3, and 4, is 10. Hence both thd
decad and the tetrad were said by them t o be every
number; the decad indeed in energy, but the tetrad
n cavacitv. The sum likewise of these four numbers
was ki d Gy them t o constitute the tetractys, in which
all harmonic ratios are included. For 4 t o I, which is
a quadruple ratio, forms the sympho~;y bisdiapason;
the ratio of 3 t o 2, which is sesquialter, forms the
symphony diapente; 4 t o 3, which is sesquitertian, the
symphony diatessaron; and 2 t o I, which is a duple
ratio, forms the diapason.
I n consequence, however, of the great veneration
paid t o theAtetractys by the pythag&eans, i t will be
proper t o give it a more ample discussion, and for this
purpose t o show from Theo of Smyrna,' how many
4 4
tetractys there are: "The tetractys," says he, was not
only p;incipally honored by the Pythagbreans, because
all symphonies are found t o exist within it, but also
beckse' it appears t o contain the nature of all things."
Hence the following was their oath: "Not by him who
delivered t o our sod the tetractys, which cdntains the
fountain and root of everlasting nature.'' But by him
who delivered the tetractys they mean pythagor&; for
the doctrine concerning it appears to have been his
invention. The above-mentioned tetractys, therefore,
is seen in the composition of the first numbers I. 2. 2. 4.
But the second ;etractys arises from the increas; b;
multiplication of even and odd numbers beginning from
the monad.
Of these, the monad is assumed as the first, because,
1 In Mathemat. p. 147.
as we have before observed, it is the principle of all even,
odd, and evenly-odd numbers, and the nature of it is
simple. But the three successive numbers receive their
composition according t o the even and the odd; because
every number is not alone even, nor alone odd. Hence
the even and the odd receive two tetractys, according t o
multiplication; the even indeed, in a duple ration; for
2 is the first of even numbers, and increases from the
monad by duplication. But th; odd number is increased
in a tripfe ra6o; for 3 is the first of odd numbers, and is
itself increased from the monad by triplication. Hence
the monad is common t o both these; being itself even
and odd. The second number, however, <n even and
double numbers is 2: but in odd and triple numbers 2.
The third among e;en numbers is 4; b;t among oiLd
numbers is 9. And the fourth among even numbers
-
is 8; but among odd numbers is 27.
I n these numbers the more ~er f ect ratios of svm-
L d
phonies are found; and in these also a tone is compre-
hended. The monad, however, contains the produc-
tive principle of a point. But t h e second numbers 2
and 2 contain the principle of a side. since thev are
incogposite, and fir6t, arkmeasured b i t h e monad, and
naturally measure a right line. The third terms are
q and 9, which are in power a square superficies,
since they are equally equal. And the fourth terms
8 and 27 being equally equal, are in power a cube.
Hence from these numbers, and this tetractys, the
increase takes place from a point t o a solid. ~ d r a side
follows after a point, a superficies after a side, and a
solid after a superficies. I n these numbers also, Plato
in the ~ i ma u s - constitutes the soul. But the last of
these seven numbers, i.e. 27, is equal to all the numbers
that precede i t ; for I +2 +3 +4 +8 +9=27. There
are. therefore, two tetractys of numbers, one of which
subsists by addition, but ;he other by multiplication,
and they comprehend musical, geometrical, and arith-
metical ratios, from which also the harmony of the
universe consists.
But the third tetractys is that which according t o
the same analogy or proportion comprehends the nature
of all ma~nitude. For what the monad was in the
former tGractys, that a point is in this. What the
numbers 2 and 3, which are in power a side, were in
the former tetractys, that the extended species of a
line, the circular a6d the right, are in thisf the right
line-indeed subsisting in conf;rmity t o the even numbar,
since it is terminates by two points; but the circula;
in conformity t o the odd number, because i t is compre-
hended by one line which has no end. But what i nt he
former t&ractys the square numbers q and 9 were, that
the two-fold species of planes, the rectilinear and the
circular, are i; this. ~ \ d what the cube numbers 8
and 27 were in the former, the one being an even, but
the other an odd number, that the two solids, one of
which has a hollow superficies, as the sphere and the
cylinder, but the other a plane superficies, as the cube
and pyramid, are in this tetractys. Hence, this is
the third tetractys, which gives completion t o every
magnitude, from a point, a line, a superficies, and a
solid.
The fourth tetractys is of the simple bodies fire, air,
water, and earth, which have an analogy according to
numbers. For what the monad was in the first tetractys,
that fire is in this. But the duad is air, the triad is
water, and the tetrad is earth. For such is the nature
of the elements according t o tenuity and density of
parts. Hence fire has t o air the ratio of I . to 2; but
t o water, the ratio of I to 3; and to earth, the ratio of
Instead of r r ~ ~ r n d u ~ a i , it is necessary to read ~ r p a ~ 0 ' u ~ a t ; the
necessity of which emendation, I wonder the learned Bullialdus did
not observe.
I t o 4. I n other respects also they are analogous t o
each other,
The fifth tetractys is of the figures of the simple
bodies. For the pyramid, indeed, is the figure of fire;
the octaedron, of air; the icosaedron, of water; and
the cube, of earth.
The sixth tetractys is of things rising into existence
through the vegetative life. And the seed, indeed, is
analogous t o the monad and a point. But if it increases
in length it is analogous t o the duad and a line; if in
breadth, t o the triad and a superficies; but if in thick-
ness, t o the tetrad and a solid.
The seventh tetractys is of communities; of which
the principle indeed, and as it were monad, is man;
the duad is a house; the triad a street; and the tetrad
a city. For a nation consists of these. And these indeed
are ;he material and sensible tetractys.
The eighth tetractys consists of t h e powers which
form a judgment of things material and sensible, and
which are of a certain intelligible nature. And these
-
are, intellect, science, opinion, and sense.
And in-
tellect, indeed, corresponds in its essence t o the monad;
but science to-the d&d; for science is the science of a
certain thing. Opinion subsists between science and
ignorance; 6ut sehse is as the tetrad. For the touch
which is common t o all the senses being fourfold, all
-
the senses energize according t o contact.
The ninth tetractys is that from which the animal
is composed, the soul and the body. For the parts of
the soul, indeed, are the rational, the irascible, and the
epithymetic, or t hat which desires external good; and
the fourth is the body in which the soul subsists.
The tenth tetractys is of the seasons of the year,
through which all things rise into existence, viz; the
spring, the summer, the autumn, and the winter.
And the eleventh is of the ages of man, viz. of the
infant, the lad, the man, and the old man.
~ e n c e there are eleven tetractys. The first is that
which subsists according t o the composition of numbers.
The second, according t o the multiplication of numbers.
The third subsists according t o magnitude. The fourth
is of the simple bodies. The fifth is of figures. The
sixth is of things rising into existence through the
vegetative life. The seventh is of communities. The
eighth is the judicial power. The ninth is of the parts
of the animal. The tenth is of the seasons of the year.
And the eleventh is of the ages of man. All of ihem
however are proportional t o &ch other. For what the
monad is in ihe'first and second tetractys, that a point
is in the third; fire in the fourth; a pyramid in the
fifth; seed in the sixth; man in the seventh; intellect
in the eighth; and so of the rest. Thus, for instance,
the first tetractys is I. 2. 3. 4. The second is the
monad, a side, a square, and a cube. The third is a
point, line, a sup;rficies, and a solid. The fourth is
fire, air, water, earth. The fifth the pyramid, the
octaedron, the icosaedron, and the cube. The sixth.
seed, length, breadth and- depth. The seventh, ma<
a house, a street, a city. The eighth, intellect, science.
opinion, sense. The-ninth, therational, the irascible;
and the epithymetic parts, and the body. The tenth,
the spring, summer, autumn, winter. The eleventh,
the infant, the lad, the man, and the old man.
The world also, which -is composed from these
tetractys, is perfect, being elegantly arranged in geo-
metrical, harmonical, and arithmetical vro~ortion:
I
comprehending e ~ e r ~ . ~ o we r , all the nature of number;
every magnitude, and every simple and composite body.
But i t is perfect, because all things are the parts of it,
but it is not itself the part of any thing. Hence, the
Pythagoreans are said t o have first used the before-
mentioned oath, and also the assertion that " all things
are assimilated t o number."
P. 81. This number is the fi st that partakes of
every number, and when divided in every possible
way, receives the power of the numbers s%btracted,
and of those that remain.
Because 6 consists of I, 2 and 3, the two first of
which are the principles of all number, and also because
2 and 3 are the first even and odd, which are the
sources of all the species of numbers; the number 6
may be said t o partake of every number. I n what
Iamblichus afterwards adds, I suppose he alludes to 6
being a perfect number and therefore equal t o all its
parts.
P. 98. Not to step above the beam of the balance.
This is the 14th Symbol in the Protreptics of Iam-
blichus, whose explanation of it is as follows: "This
symbol exhorts us t o the exercise of justice, t o the
honoring equality and moderation in an admirable
degree, and t o the knowledge of justice as the most
perfect virtue, t o which the other virtues give com-
pletion, and without which none of the rest are of any
advantage. It also admonishes us, that i t is proper
t o know this virtue not in a careless manner, but through
theorems and scientific demonstrations. But this
knowledge is the business of no other art and science
than the Pythagoric philosophy alone, which in a tran-
scendent degree honors disciplines before every thing
else."
The following extract also from my Theoretic Arith-
metic, (p. 194.), wi l l in a still greater degree elucidate
this symbol. The information contained in it is derived
from the anonymous author of a very valuable work
entitled Be oXoy o~~e v a 'Apiepq~tKtis lheologumena Arith-
metic&, and which has lately been reprinted at Leipsic.
"The Pythagoreans called the pentad providence and
justice, because it equalizes things unequal, justice being
a medium between excess and defect, just as 5 is the
middle of all the numbers that are equally distant from
i t on boths sides as far as t o the decad, some of which
it surpasses, and by others is surpassed, as may be seen
in the following arrangement :
For here, as in the middle of the beam of a balance,
5 does not depart from the line of the equilibrium,
while one scale is raised, and the other is depressed.
I n the following arrangement also, viz. 1,-z, 3, 4, 5,
6, 7, 8, 9, i t will be found that the sum of the numbers
which are posterior, is triple the sum of those that are
prior t o 5 ; for 6 4-7 +8 +9=30; but I +z +3 +4= 10.
If therefore the numbers on each side of < represent
II I
the beam of a balance, 5 being the tongue of it, when
a weight depresses the beam, an obtuse angle is pro-
duced by the depressed part of the tongue, and an acute
anple bv the elevated part of the beam. Hence it is
worse t h do than t o suker an iniurv: and the authors
-'. '
of the iniury verge downward as it were t o the infernal
M .
regions; but th; injured tend upward as it were t o
the Gods, imploring the divine assistance. Hence the
meaning of the pyt6agoric symbol is obvious, "Pass not
above the beam of the balance." Since however in-
justice pertains t o inequality, in order t o correct this,
equalization is requisite, that the beam of the balance
may remain on both sides without obliauitv. But
A I
eq;alization is effected by addition and subtraction.
Thus if q is ddded t o 5, and 4 is also taken from 5, the
number 9 will be produced on one side, and I on the
other, each of which is equally distant from 5. Thus
too, if 3 is added t o 5 , and is also subtracted from it,
on the one side 8 will-be produced, and on the other 2;
16
If 2 is added t o 5 , and likewise taken from it, 7 and 1
will be produced. And by adding I t o 5, a i d sub:
tracting I from it, 6 and q will be the result; in
all which instances. the numbers vroduced are eaui-
distant from 5, and the sum of eich couple is e b a l
t o 10."
P. I 16. Such as dig not f i e with a sword.
This is the 9th Symbol in the Protreptics, and is
thus explained by Iamblichus. "This symbol exhorts
t o prudence. For it excites in us an appropriate con-
ception with respect t o the propriety of not opposing
sharp words t o a man full of fire and wrath, nor con-
tending with him. For frequently by words you will
agitate and disturb an ignorant man, and will yourself
suffer things dreadful and unpleasant. Heraclitus also
testifies t o the truth of this symbol. For he says, "It
is difficult t o fight with anger :- for whatever is ne'c&sary
t o be done redeems the soul." And this he savs trulv.
For many, by gratifying anger, have changed ;he co&
dition of their soul, and have made death preferable t o
life. But by goveining the tongue, and being quiet,
friendship is produced from strife, the fire of anger
being extinguished; and you yourself will not appear
t o be destitute of intellect."
P. 146. But thisfollowsfi.om the whole being naturally
prior to the part, and not the part to the whole.
For whole co-subverts, but is not co-subverted by
part: since if whole is taken away, part also is taken
away; but the contrary does not follow.
P. 167.
Such therefore as have the intellective and
gnortic part of virtue, are denominated skilful and
intelligent: but such as have the ethical and pre-
elective part of i t , are denominated useful and
equitable.
The following account of the virtues is extracted
from the Notes t o my Translation of the Phzedo of
Plato: The first of the virtues are the physical, which
are common t o brutes, being mingled with the tempera-
ments, and for the most part contrary t o each other;
or rather pertaining t o the animal. Or i t may be said
that they are illuminations from reason, when not
impededSby a certain bad temperament: or that they
are the result of energies in a former life. Of these
Plato speaks in the Politicus and the Laws. The ethical
virtues; which are above these, are ingenerated by
custom and a certain right opinion, and are the virtues
of children when well educated. These virtues also
are t o be found in some brute animals. Thev likewise
transcend the temperaments, and on this acGount are
not contrary t o each other. These virtues Plato
delivers in the Laws. They pertain however at the
same time both t o reason and the irrational nature. I n
the third rank above these are the political virtues,
which pertain t o reason alone; for they are scientific.
But they are the virtues of reason adorning the
irrational part as its instrument; through prudence
adorning the gnostic, through fortitude the irascible,
and through temperance the epithymetic power, (or
the power which is the source of desire;) but adorning
all the parts of the irrational nature through justice.
And of these virtues Plato speaks much in the Republic.
These virtues too follow each other. Above these are
the cathartic virtues, which pertain t o reason alone,
withdrawing from other things t o itself, throwing aside
the instruments of sense as vain, repressing also the
16'
energies through these instruments, and liberating the
soul from the bonds of generation. Plato particularly
unfolds these virtues in the Phaedo. Prior t o these
however are the theoretic virtues, which pertain t o the
soul, introducing itself t o natures superio; t o itself, not
only gnostically, as some one may be induced t o think
from the name, but also orectically: for i t hastens t o
become, as it were, intellect instead bf soul; and intellect
possesses both desire and knowledge. These virtues
are the converse of the political- for as the latter
energize about things subordinate according t o reason,
so the former about things more excellent according
t o intellect. These virtues Plato delivers in the
Theaetetus.
According t o Plotinus, there is also another grada-
tion of the virtues besides these, viz. the paradigmatic.
For, as our eye, when it is first illuminated by the
solar light, is different from that which illuminates, as
being illuminated, but afterwards is in a certain respect
united and conjoined with it, and becomes, as i t were,
solar-form; so also our soul a t first indeed is illuminated
by intellect, and energizes according t o the theoretic
virtues, but afterwards becomes, as i t were, that which
is illuminated, and energizes uniformly according t o
the paradigmatic virtues. And it is the business indeed
of p'hiloso~hy t o make us intellect ; but of theurgy t o
unite us t o intelligibles, so that we may energize para-
digmatically. And as when possessing the physical
virtues, we know mundane bodies (for the subjects t o
virtues of this kind are bodies); so from possesiing the
ethical virtues, we know the fate of the universe,
because fate is conversant wi t h irrational lives. For
the rational soul is not under fate; and the ethical
virtues are irrational, because they pertain t o the
irrational part. According t o the political virtues we
know mundane affairs, and according t o the cathartic
supermundane; but as possessing the theoretic we know
intellectual, and from the paradigmatic intelligible
natures. Temperance also pertains t o the ethical
virtues; justice t o the political, on account of com-
pacts; fortitude t o the cathartic, through not verging
to matter; and prudence t o the theoretic. Observe
too, that Plato in the Phaedo calls the physical virtues
servile, because they may subsist in servile souls; but
he calls the ethical r ~ ~ o ~ ~ d + i a c adumbrations, because
their possessors only know that the energies of such
virtues are right, but do not know why they are so. It
is well observed too here, by Olympiodor<s, that Plato
calls the cathartic and theoretic virtues, those which
are in reality true virtues. He also separates them in
another way, viz. that the political are not telestic, i.e.
do not pertain to mystic ceremonies, but that the
cathartic and theoretic are telestic. Hence, Olympia-
dorus adds, the cathartic virtues are denominated from
the purification which is used in the mysteries; but
the theoretic from perceiving things divine. On this
account he accords with the Orphic verses, that
The soul that uninitiated dies,
Plung'd in the blackest mire in Hades lies.
For initiation is the divinely-inspired energy of the
virtues. Olympiodorus also further observes, that by
the thyrsus-bearers, Plato means those that energize
according to the political virtues, but by the Bacchuses
those that exercise the cathartic virtues. For we are
bound in matter as Titans, through the great partibility
of our nature; but we rise from the dark mire as
Bacchuses. ~ e n c e we become more wo~het i c at the
I L
time of death: and Bacchus is the inspective guardian
of death, because he is likewise of every thing pertain-
ing to the Bacchic sacred rites.
V
All the virtues likewise exhibit their proper characters,
these being every where common, but subsisting appro-
priately in each. For the characteristic property of
fortitude is the not declining to things subordinate;
of temperance, a conversion Trom an hferior nature;
of justice, a proper energy, and which is adapted to
being; and of prudence, the election and selection of
things good and evil. Olympiodorus farther observes,
that all the virtues are in the Gods. For many Gods,
says he, are adorned with their appellations; -and all
goodness originates from the Gods. Likewise, prior t o
things which sometimes participate the virtues, as is
our case, it is necessary there should be natures which
always participate them. I n what order, therefore, do
d I
the virtues appear ? Shall we say in the psychical ? For
virtue is the perfection of the soul; and election and
pre-election a;e the energies and pojections of the soul.
Hence the Chaldaean oracles conjoin fontal virtue with
fontal soul, or in other words; with soul subsisting
according t o cause. But may i t not also be said, that
the virtues naturally wish t o give an orderly arrange-
ment t o that which is disordered? If this be admitted,
they will originate from the demiurgic order.
How
then will they be cathartic there? May we not say,
Olympiodorus adds, that through the cathartic virtues
considered according t o their causal subsistence in
Jupiter the demiurgus, he is enabled t o abide in his
accustomed mode, as Plato says in the Ti maus? And
farther still, according t o ancient theologists, he ascends
t o the tower of Saturn, who is a pure intellect.
As this distribution of the virtues, however, is at
present no less novel than im ortant, the following I
discussion of them from the ' I+oppar xpir r a "ova,
or AUXILIARIES TO INTELLIGIRLES, of Porphyry, is added
for the sake of the genuinely philosophic reader:
"There is one kind of virtues pertaining t o the
political character, and another t o the man who tends
t o contemplation, and on this account is called theoretic,
and is now a beholder. And there are also other virtues
pertaining t o intellect, so far as it is intellect, and
separate from soul. The virtues indeed of the political
character, and which consist in the moderation of the
passions, are characterised by following and being
obedient t o the reasoning about that which is becom-
ing in actions. Hence, looking t o an innoxious con-
verse with neighbours, they are denominated, from the
aggregation of fellowship, political. And prudence
indeed subsists about the reasoning part; fortitude
about the irascible part; temperance, in the consent
and symphony of the epithymetic with the reasoning
part; and justice in each of these performing its proper
employment with respect t o governing and being
governed. But the virtues of him who proceeds t o the
contemplative life, consist in a departure from terrestrial
concerns. Hence also, they are called purifications,
being surveyed in the refraining from corporeal actions,
and avoiding sympathies with the body. For these are
the virtues of the soul elevating itself t o true being.
The political virtues, therefore, adorn the mortal man,
and are the forerunners of purifications. For it is
necessary that he who is adorned by these, should
abstain from doing any thing precedaneously in con-
junction with body. Hence in purifications, not t o
opine with body, but t o energize alone, gives sub-
sistence t o prudence; which derives its perfection
through energizing intellectually with purity. But not
t o be similarly passive with the body, constitutes temp-
erance. Not t o fear a departure from body as into
something void, and nonentity, gives subsistence t o
fortitude. But when reason and intellect are the
leaders. and there is no resistance rfrom the irrational
part,] justice is produced. The &spspoai tion therefore,
according t o the political virtues, is surveyed in the
moderation of the passions: havine for its end t o live
V
as man conformable to niture. But the disposition
according t o the theoretic virtues, is beheld in a$athy;
the end of which is a similitude t o God.
" Since, however, of purification one kind consists in
This philosophic apathy is not, as is stupidly supposed by most
of the present day, insensibility, but a perfect subjugation of the
passions to reason.
purifying, but another pertains t o those that are
purified, the cathartic virtues are surveyed according
t o both these significations of purification; for they
purify the soul, and are present with purification. For
the end of purification is t o become pure. But since
purification, and the being purified, are an ablation of
every thing foreign, the good resulting from them will
be different from that which purifies; so that if that
which is purified was good prior t o the impurity with
which it is defiled, purification is sufficient. That, how-
ever, which remains after purification, is good, and not
purification. The nature of the soul also was not good,
but is that which is able t o partake of good, and is boni-
form. For if this were not the case, it would not have
become situated in evil. The good, therefore, of the
soul consists in being united t oi t s generator; but its
evil, in an association with things subordinate t o itself.
I t s evil also is twofold; the onearising from an associa-
tion with terrestrial natures ; but thewother from doing
this with an excess of the passions. Hence all th;
political virtues, which liberate the soul from one evil,
may be denominated virtues, and are honorable. But
the cathartic are more honorable. and liberate it from
evil, so far as it is soul. It is necessary, therefore, that
the soul when purified should associate &th its generator.
Hence the virtue of it after i t s conversion consists in
a scientific knowledge of [true] being; but this will not
be the case unless conversion precedes.
'' There is therefore another genus of virtues after
the cathartic and political, and which are the virtues
of the soul energizikg i nt el fe~t ual l ~. And here, indeed,
wisdom and prudence consist in the contemplation of
those things Ghich intellect possesses. But j ;stice con-
sists in performing what is appropriate in a conformity
to, and energizing according t o intellect. Temperance
is an inward conversion of the soul t o intellect. And
fortitude is apathy; according t o a similitude of
that t o whichAthe soul looks, and which is naturally
impassive. These virtues, also, in the same manner as
the others, alternately follow each other.
"The fourth species of the virtues is that of the
paradigms subsis;ing in intellect; which are more
excellent than the psychical virtues, and exist as the
paradigms of these; the virtues of the soul being the
similitudes of them. And intellect indeed is that in
which all things subsist at once as paradigms. Here,
rudence is science; but intellect that knows
is wisdom. Temperance is that which is
converted t o itself. The proper work of intellect, is
-C
the performance of its appropriate duty, [and this is
justice 11. But fortitude is sameness, and the abiding
with purity in itself, through an abundance of power.
There are therefore four genera of virtues ; of which,
indeed, some pertain t o intellect, concur with the
essence of it, and are paradigmatic. Others pertain t o
soul now looking t o intellect, and being filled from it.
Others belong t o the soul of man, purifying itself, and
becoming purified from the body, and the irrational
passions. And others are the virtues of the soul of man,
;doming the man, through giving measure and bound
t o the irrational nature, and producing moderation in
the passions. And he, indeed, who has the greater
virtues has also necessarily the less; but the contrary
is not true, that he who has the less has also the greater
virtues. Nor will he who possesses the greater, energize
precedaneously according t o the less, but only so far
as the necessities of the mortal nature require. The
scope also of the virtues, is, as we have said, generically
different in the different virtues. For the scope of the
political virtues, is to give measure to the in
their practical energies according to nature. But the
scope of the cathartic virtues, is entirely t o obliterate
the remembrance of the passions. And the scope of the
rest subsists analogously t o what has been before said.
The words ~ a l S i ~ a i o u 6 v ~ are omitted in the original. But it
is evident from Plotinus, that they ought to be inserted.
Hence, he who energizes according t o the practical
virtues, is a worthy man: but he who energizes accord-
ing t o the cathartic virtues, is a d~moniacal man, or
is also a good demon. He who energizes according t o
the intellectual virtues alone, is a God. But he who
energizes according t o the paradigmatic virtues, is
the father of the Gods. We, therefore, ought especially
t o pay attention t o the cathartic virtues, since we may
obtain these in the present life. But through these,
the ascent is t o the more honorable virtues. Hence i t
is requisite t o survey t o what degree purification may
be extended. For it is a separation from body, and
from the passive motion of Zhe irrational part: But
how this &av be effected, and t o what exient, must
now be said..
"In the first place, indeed, it is necessary that he who
intends t o ac uire this purification, should, as the
foundation an 1 basis of it, know himself t o be a soul
bound in a foreign thing, and in a different essence.
I n the second place, as that which is raised from this
foundation, he should collect himself from the body,
and as it were from different places, so as to be disposed
in a manner perfectly impassive with respect t o the
body. For he who energizes uninterruptedly accord-
ing t o sense, though he may not do this with an adhering
affection, and the enjoyment resulting from pleasure,
vet at the same time his attention is dissipated about
;he body, in consequence of becoming thrbugh sense
in contact with it. But we are addicted t o the pleasures
or ains of sensibles, in conjunction with a pron;ptitude,
B an converging sympathy; from which disposition it is
requisite to be purified. Thir, however, will be efi ct ed
by admitting necessary pleasures, and the sensations of
them, merely as remedies, or as a liberation from pain, in
order that [the rational part] may not be impeded [in its
energitv.1 Pain also must be taken away. But if this
is not possible, it must be mildly diminished. And it
Instead of ~ a r ' diur+v here, it is necessary to read ~ a ; a i ~ 9 ~ u t v .
will be diminished, if the soul is not copassive with it.
Anger, likewise, must as much as possible be taken away;
and must by no means be premeditated.
But if it can-
not be entirely removed, deliberate choice must not be
mingled with'it, but the unpremeditated motion must
be ;he impulser of the irraiional part.
That however
which is unpremeditated is imbecile and small.
All fear,
likewise, mhst be expelled. For he who acquires this
purification, will fear nothing. Here, however, if it
should take place, it will be unpremeditated. Anger
therefore and fear must be used for the purpose of
admonition. But the desire of every thing base must
be exterminated. Such a one also, so far as he is a
cathartic philosopher, will not desire meats and drinks.
Neither must there be the unpremeditated in natural
venereal connexions; but if tAis should take place, i t
must only be as far as to that precipitate imagination
which energizes insleep. I n short, the intellectual soul
itself of the purified man. must be liberated from all
these [corpo;eal propensi;ies]. He must likewise en-
deavour that what is moved t o the irrational nature
of corporeal passions, may be moved without sympathy,
and without animadversion; so that the motions them-
selves may be irnmediat el y dissolved, through their
vicinity t o the reasoning power. This, however, will
not take place while the purification is proceeding t o
its perfection; but will happen t o those in whom
reason rules without opposition. Hence in these, the
inferior part will so venerate reason, that it will be
indignant, if it is at all moved, in consequence of not
being quiet when its master is present, and will reprove
itself for its imbecility. These, however, are yet only
moderations of the passions, but at length terminate
in apathy. For when co-passivity is entirely exter-
minated, then apathy is present with him who is purified
from it. For passion becomes moved, when reason
imparts excitation, through verging [to the irrational
nature]."
P. 199. The theorems of philosophy are to be enjoyed,
as much as possible, as if thcy were ambrosia and
nectar, Uc . U c .
This Sentence in the original of Arcerius is as follows :
TGU KUT; + ~ X o u o ~ ' a v O P O ~ ~ ~ ~ T O V ; ~ o Aa u u ~ e o v , ;$' $COY
OMW, K ~ O Q I T ~ ~ &p/3P ocrlas ~ a ; v 6 ~ r a ~ OS* & K $ ~ ~ T ~ v TE yip 7 6
b?; a G v 486 xai T A Oi Ov 76 peYaXd\GUXov 8; varal ~e r o~ e i v ,
~ a i d p; Li'd;ous, tri'8lwv y s ; ~ ~ u r r j ~ o v a r .
I n the edition of the Protreptics by Kiessling, which
I did not see, till the greater part of this work was
printed, uo$av is substituted for +cXoao+iav, but in my
opinion very erroneously; and this German editor,
from not perceiving the necessity of reading i n i p a ~ d v
TC y ~ p r6 B i LvrGv 486 ~aai Beiov, r i i rcyaXd\C.vXov, K. A.
instead of retaining the reading of Arcerius, has made
nonsense of this part of the Sentence. For his version
of it is: "Nam et sincera est eorum dulcedo, et divinam
naturam, animum magnum efficere possunt."
THE END.