# The Book of the Apple, ascribed to Aristotle/The Book of the Apple

​This is the translation of a discourse which Aristotle delivered at the time of bis death. It is said that when the life of the sage Aristotle approached its end, some of his disciples came to see him. When they saw the emaciation of his frame, and his weakness, and perceived about him the signs of death, they despaired of his life; only the joy, alacrity, and clearness of intellect that they perceived in him showed them that he took a different view of his condition from that which was taken by others. Then one of the disciples said to him: Our grief over you is greater than your grief over yourself, and we are more vexed than you concerning your departure; if it be that you feel otherwise than we feel about you, tell us also of this. — Aristotle said: The joy that you perceive in me does not arise from my cherishing any desire for life, but from my confidence about my condition after death. — A disciple named Simmias said: If you have this confidence, it were better that you should explain the ground of it to us also, that we may be as certain as you. — Aristotle said: Although it is difficult for me to talk, still for your sake I will endure some trouble: but first let me bear Kriton, for I can see that he wishes to say something. — Kriton said: Although I should much like to hear your conversation, and acquire knowledge thereby, O teacher of mankind, the physician whom you employ commanded me not to induce you to talk, on the ground that talking would make you warm, and should the heat get the better of you the cure would be delayed, and the effect of the drugs impeded. — Aristotle said: I will disobey ​the advice of the physician, and will employ no drug but the scent of an apple; which will keep me alive till I have given you the lecture to which you have a right. Why should I not speak, when the best thing I hope to obtain from the drugs is the power to speak? Come now, tell me, Do you grant the excellence of wisdom or not? They answered: Our only reason for honouring wisdom is the fact that we know it to excel other things. — Aristotle said: Is its excellence in this world or in the next? — They said: We do not deny the excellence of wisdom, and necessity forces us to place its excellence and value in the next world. — Aristotle: Then why do you abhor death and adhere to the notion that some detriment will accrue to you therefrom, when you ought to perceive that death, horrible as it is to the vulgar, is nevertheless nothing but the freeing of the soul from its bodily case? — Disc.: How so? Let us know more. — Aristotle: Does the knowledge which you have acquired make you glad or not? And does the knowledge which has escaped you make you sorry or not? — Disc.: The former is true in both cases. — Aristotle: Through which then do you acquire knowledge — through the body, which is a blind, deaf, impotent, and useless mass when the spirit departs from it, or by the spirit whereby a man is continually rendered capable of learning, seeing, knowing and speaking, so long as it is with him? — Disc.: Doubtless through the vitality and goodness of the spirit knowledge is acquired, and by the dullness of the body it is kept out of it. — Aristotle: Since then it is clear that knowledge is a product of the spirit, and that the dullness of the body keeps it out, and that by the acquisition of knowledge you become glad, whereas by being precluded from it you become sorry, evidently you must prefer the separation of the spirit from the body to the persistence of the spirit in the body; and separation from the body must be better for the spirit than abiding in the body. Do you not see that the desires and delights of the body such as women and children and wealth and eating and drinking still more impede the search after wisdom? and that when you abandon ​those lusts you do so in order to protect the intellect and to devote yourselves to knowledge? — Disc.: Certainly. — Aristotle. — Then, since you confess that lusts have the power to damage the intellect, surely the body which enjoys those lusts must be more detrimental to the intellect? — Disc.: Our judgment forces us to agree with what your discourse has proved thus far; but what shall we do and how shall we act, in order to become as brave about death as you are, and as regardless of life as you are? — Aristotle: The best means for a seeker of knowledge to attain his end is an effort on the part of the speaker to speak only what is true, and of the hearer to hear correctly. I will now endeavour to speak truly; do you endeavour on your part to hear and receive correctly and truly. Do you not know that the meaning of the word ‘philosophy’ is ‘fondness for wisdom’? and that the mind in its substance and origin is philosophy, and only delights in it, and only obtains peace therefrom? — Disc.: Certainly. — Aristotle: Do you not know that wisdom is the joy of the mind, and that wisdom can be obtained by goodness of soul and mind: now goodness of soul consists in its adjustment, and the adjustment of the mind consists in diminution of phlegm, rheum and blood? — Disc.: Aye. — Aristotle: If the goodness of the mind lie in its adjustment, and its adjustment in the diminution of those humours, when those humours altogether depart, it will become sounder and better? — Disc.: We cannot fail to admit the truth of what you say, but nevertheless we do not find in ourselves the same pleasure in death that we perceive in you. — Aristotle: Since sight guides the seer to his gain and preserves him from harm, try to let me increase your sight as to the advantage of death. O friends of wisdom! do you not see that the seeker after wisdom whose soul has become free from sin has mortified himself before death in respect of friends, and wealth, and empire, for the sake of which men desire the life of this world, and undertaken much sorrow and a heavy burden in seeking wisdom — sorrow so great that it can only be relieved by death? What desire has he for life who enjoys none of the pleasures ​of life: and why need he flee from death who can only rest in death? Nay! He does wrong, whosoever seeks the name of philosophy without being worthy of its meaning: and he is ignorant who fancies that in the comforts, pleasures and delights of this world the road to philosophy can be found. Can you desire that the name of knowledge should be bestowed on you whilst you are enjoying the pleasures of this world, of eating, drinking, and so on? — Disc.: We have no such desire, nor do we seek any such thing. How could we aspire to be philosophers while caring for this world, when we have seen that whenever there has been any excess in food or drink, or there manifests itself in the heart any motion of something contrary to the intellect, such as lust, or anger, or covetousness, or envy, the intellect remains inactive all that time; whereas, if that motion come not into play, then the blood only is at work, and there is nothing which serves better to protect it, and from which protection is more sought than the intellect. — Aristotle: The branch of a thing does not come but of the root, and the part is not but of the whole. If ye abstain in this world from lusts, but are attached to this world in your heart, your abstinence is not perfect. Now the root of attachment to the world lies in love of self-preservation. Hence every one who abstains from its lusts, but desires to remain in the world has caught the branch and neglected the root; whereas he is perfect and has reached the goal who has both root and branch. — Simmias: I have been abstemious in regard to the pleasures of this world; but now from what I have heard you say, I am anxious to remain in it no longer. Should that not be granted me, at least I shall endeavour to walk in your footsteps, and adopt your way of life, O teacher of mankind! — Kriton: My mind's eye now shows me that there is no one to whom death is not detrimental except the philosopher. Whosoever has attained thereunto and become perfect, let him seek death and desire it; but whoso has failed to attain thereto, let him flee from death his farthest, and avoid it his hardest. For nothing but ​wisdom withstands death and gives peace from its pain. — Zeno said: Aristotle’s discourse leaves us no right to participate in pleasure or to endeavour to remain in the world, and the fact that he is more courageous about death than I — though I do not fear it very much — comes from his having been at greater pains than I to set his affairs right; had I looked after myself as he has looked after himself, and banished from myself avarice, desire, and anger, as he has banished them from himself, as great courage would be perceptible in me as we perceive in him. — Another said: Until this day I used to dread the approach of death; now what I fear is the protraction of life. — Zeno: You are better able to attain death than to protract life. — He answered: My weariness of life does not induce me to summon death myself, before it comes to me. — Zeno: We have known friends do much to see the friend who has not seen them; if you love death, what prevents your seeking it before it seek you? — He answered: Death is not a friend, but a bridge which men must pass before they can arrive at that which they desire and love. — Zeno: Then why do you remain, although you know for certain that death will make you nobler? — He answered: I am like a guardian of the frontier-pass who, if he abide, abides with regret, and if he advance and conquer, will attain to honour. — Zeno: What is the meaning of your parable? — He said: The soul of the philosopher is stationed at the pass, its pass being the body; on the other side are wants, lusts, and passions. Every soul has sore trouble in dealing with these enemies, and in keeping them away. The glory consists in the joy and pleasure whereto the soul attains at parting. — When their discussion had reached this point, another named Stephanus (?) said: If the name of ‘philosopher’ have no other use than to preserve its owner from the name of ‘ignorant,’ why should I make any effort to obtain it? — Another said: Merely for the sake of honour I would not seek this name. — Zeno: Did I desire this name for nothing else, I should desire it for the sake of obtaining security from the fear and horror of death. — Kriton said: ​The greatest of the benefits of that science is that it makes for us many cares into one. — Kramas (?) said: Since in this world one thing alone, sorrow, is permanent, the most profitable thing for us to sympathize with is the high aim of one who is concerned about a thing that is everlasting. — Pindar said: All men are at war, and the fittest enemy for the warrior to attack is the enemy nearest home; and that enemy is the trouble of his own breast. — Eletus (Theaetetus ?) said: Who are the philosopher’s enemies? — Pindar said: His most particular enemies are the pleasures of his breast, which hinder his search after wisdom. — When the discourse of these people had reached this point, Simmias, turning to Aristotle, said: Enlighten our hearts with the rays of thy lamp ere its light be quenched, good father! — Aristotle: The most acquisitive of scholars is he who acquires no knowledge until he has disciplined himself and corrected himself; the most accurate of speakers is he who attempts not to speak save after meditation, and the soundest of workers is he who acts only after deliberation. And no one more needs deliberation and caution in carrying out a plan, than the philosopher in undertaking matters of which the trouble is present and the reward prospective. First let him meditate; then, when meditation brings sight, let him make sight his guide to action; and if sight show that the action will be remunerative, then let him endure the trouble of doing before he reaps the fruit. And when after seeing he resolves to undertake the work, at the time when he should reap the fruit he ought not to be vexed at the trouble he has endured. For he who weans his soul from pleasures and undertakes the labour of searching for wisdom for the sake of God, and to gain the reward therefor after death, if at the hour of death he exhibits melancholy, makes himself an object of laughter and derision. So too does he become an object of laughter and derision who makes a feast and lays the foundation of a palace, and when about to attain the purpose of his feast and of the building of his palace becomes sad and gloomy. I have known ​men who have undertaken this task while in doubt concerning the reward — nor is there any wonder that one who is in doubt concerning the recompense after death should be grieved and sorrowful about dying — but I do wonder at any one who is grieved at death while professing to believe in a recompense after death. — When Aristotle had brought this discourse to a conclusion, Kriton said: If you desire us to be contented after your departure, O worthy teacher! the eloquent speech which you have made must increase our sorrow at your departure; and if death be profitable to you, to us it is most detrimental, on account of the unsolved difficulties remaining among us for which you were our refuge. — Diogenes said: The same thing cannot be profitable to one thing and detrimental to another unless there be some contrariety between the two latter; if Aristotle's departure be profitable to himself and detrimental to us, this must be because of some difference between us. — Kriton: There is both agreement and diversity between us and him; we agree in our wish and desire, and differ about our remaining and his departure. — Diogenes: Your grief comes not of his being about to enter the house of honour, but rather of your remaining in the abode of disgrace. — Lysias said: You both speak well. You were the pillars of a hall wherein were lamps; the greatest pillar has fallen, and the weight has come upon the other pillars; the most brilliant lamp is extinguished, the light in the hall is diminished, and the darkness increased. Nor is it the falling of the pillar nor the extinction of the lamp that troubles you; but rather the darkness of the hall and the weight of the roof. — Simmias, glancing at Aristotle, said: O guide to wisdom! tell us what is the first thing which it behoves the seeker after wisdom to acquire? — Aristotle: Seeing that the soul is the source of wisdom, the first knowledge which is profitable for him is knowledge of the soul. — Simmias: How should he seek it? — Aristotle: By his own virtue. — Simmias: What is his own virtue? — Aristotle: That virtue whereby you asked me about yourself. — Simmias: How is it possible for any one ​to ask any one else about himself? — Aristotle: Even as the sick man asks the physician about himself, and even as the blind man might ask those about him of his own colour. — Simmias: How can the self be blind about the self, when the self is the source of all sight? — Aristotle: When wisdom is secreted and concealed in the self, that is the soul, it is blind to itself, and to others alike: even as the eye without the light of a lamp is blind both to itself and others. — Simmias: Then the learner can only learn through wisdom, and the seer can only see with a lamp. — Aristotle: The soul becomes capable of receiving wisdom only by its natural correctness, and the sight of the seer becomes penetrating only through a lamp. When the two come together, it can penetrate. — Simmias: If the soul and the eyes cannot attain brightness in their functions by their own virtue, unaided by wisdom and the lamplight, then nothing is nearer akin to the soul than wisdom. — Aristotle: How can anything be nearer akin to that which it takes in than its own source? Do you not see that the teacher has a better right to the name of knowledge than the taught? and that the possessor of force has a better title to the name of force than one who is acquiring it? For the teacher is the source of knowledge, seeing that knowledge flows from him, and the strong is the source of strength. — When the discourse reached this point, Lysias said: This subject is finished, and I will now begin afresh. Tell me how it is that knowledge of the soul is the worthiest thing for the acquirer to acquire first? — Aristotle: Because knowledge is an essential property of teacher and taught. — Lysias: How am I to know that knowledge is a property of the soul? — Aristotle said: Because knowledge is in the body only so long as the soul is in it; and when the soul is separated from the body, knowledge disappears from it. — Lysias: It may come from the body rather than the soul. — Aristotle: If it were of the body, it would appear in the dead body as much as in the living body. — Lysias: We are as ignorant of the knowledge of the dead, as we are of their ignorance. May it be that the ignorance of it which we do not know may come from ​the fact that the soul is departed from it? — Aristotle: If ignorance be blindness to one’s own concerns, then the ignorance and blindness of the body before death are even more evident than its ignorance after death. — Lysias: Though the ignorance of blindness may be in the body after death, the ignorance of:folly is not there assuredly. — Aristotle: What is the difference between the ignorance of blindness and the ignorance of folly? — Lysias: Wherein is the identity? — Aristotle: The two are identical in that they both afflict people of understanding. As for the ignorance of folly, it is like badness and evil-doing and evil-speaking; and as for the ignorance of blindness, it is like an evil smell and the fetid matter whence it proceeds. — Lysias: I only know of the existence of foulness and sensuality while the soul is in the body: can it be that this foulness proceeds from the soul and not from the body? — Aristotle: If foul habits were of the original essence of the soul, while the soul was abstracted from accidental states, this foulness would appear in every soul, and no soul would be without it; how then could we have learned that the philosopher’s soul is free from foulness, and uncleanness? Whereas we have learned and know well that the purity of their souls has gained the upper hand over lust and overcome desire and passion. They have subdued these inclinations and harmonized lust with reason. — Lysias: If then between lust and the soul there be so great a difference, how comes it that passion and the soul part together from the body? — Aristotle: The soul is a flame, and when some one of the humours of the body prevails, it kindles the body as fire kindles fuel, and causes the light of the soul to issue from the body even as a fire brings brightness and heat out of wood. And passion is as a fire that brings the brigl1tness of the soul out of the body. — Lysias: Can it be that brightness itself comes from warmth? — Aristotle: If brightness varied with heat, a summer night should be brighter than a winter day, even as a summer night. is warmer than a winter day. — When the dialogue had reached this point, Lysias said: You have enlivened my mind, ​O teacher! this discourse is worthy of deep consideration. Most assuredly I must endeavour to distinguish between soul and passion, the heat of the latter and the brightness of the former. You have made clear to me each of the two, passion and the body, and the distinction of the soul from both, according to their attributes. Now, I would have you show the distinction between the conduct of the soul and of the passion, even as you have shown the distinction between themselves. — Aristotle: Do you know of any distinction between their functions? — Lysias: I know not of any distinction between their substance, but only between their functions: but I would fain have you show me the difference between the conduct of the one and that of the other by signs clear enough to distinguish the work of the one from that of the other. — Aristotle: All that is bad is the work of the passion and all that is good is the work of the soul. — Lysias: I know the difference between the good conduct of the one and the foul action of the other no better than the difference between their substances. — Aristotle: Good action or goodness is that which, when it comes to you, puts you right; and badness is that which, when it comes to you, does you harm. — Lysias: Nothing has ever come to me which has done good to a part of me but has damaged some other part. How can I call it “good” when I never have found it free from harm? — Aristotle: When the thing that is beneficial benefits that part of you which you are more bound to love than to hate, be not vexed if it harm some part of you which you are more bound to hate than to love. — Lysias: What part of me is it which I am bound to hate, and what, that I am bound to love? — Aristotle: You should love your intellect and hate your unintelligent part. — Lysias: What comes of this? — Aristotle: Why, nothing increases your intellect but that which lessens your non-intelligence. Love therefore that which improves your intellect, even though it lessen your non-intelligence. For the advantage done you by it in decreasing your non-intelligence is not inferior to that done you by the ​improvement of your intellect. — Lysias: You distinguished between soul and passion by your illustration of heat and light; and you showed me the difference of their functions by showing the difference of their origin. I then asked you to make clear to me what they each do by some sign which should sever the work of the one:from the work of the other; you then told me that well-doing was the work of the soul and ill-doing the work of the passion. I asked you the difference between good and bad actions. You answered that whatever increases the intellect is a good action even though non-intelligence is increased by it, and whatever causes decrease of intellect is bad, even though it increase the non-intelligence. Neither intelligence nor non-intelligence is diminished except by its opposite, nor increased except by what agrees with it. Now, I still require an explanation of what it is that increases the intelligence and what it is that lessens it. — Aristotle said: Whatsoever adds brightness to your vision of things increases your intelligence, and whatsoever makes things dark to you lessens it. — Lysias said: What is it that gives them brightness, and what is it that veils them? — Aristotle: Truth-speaking and whatever resembles it is an illuminator, doubt and whatever resembles it a cloke. — Lysias said: I understand how true-speaking illuminates and how doubt darkens; but what are the things which resemble them? — Aristotle: Right-doing or justice resembles true-speaking, and injustice or iniquity resembles falsehood and doubt. — Lysias: In what respect do justice and veracity resemble each other? — Aristotle: Each of them consists in leaving things in their own places. — Lysias: And in what respect do falsehood and injustice resemble each other? — Aristotle: Each consists in removing things from their own places. — Lysias: Justice and injustice are the work of administrators and judges only; whereas I am asking you concerning things in general. — Aristotle: All men are judges, only some private, others public. He whose judgment errs, and whose tongue speaks false, and whosoever appropriates what is not his, ​such a man is unjust and a liar: whereas he who sees things aright, and whose tongue speaks the truth, and who is satisfied with what is his, is righteous, just, and veracious. Nor is any human action outside the two patterns which we have described. — Lysias: How am I to know that nothing falls out of these two kinds? — Aristotle: Enquire among the events which are passing and have passed over you, whether any of them lies outside these patterns. If none such be found, include those events which have not yet passed over you among those which have passed over you. — Lysias: How am I to include what has not yet happened to me with what has happened, and pass the same judgment upon it? — Aristotle: If the few be part of the many things, and the parts of a thing resemble the whole, then the few things which you see belong to the many things which you do not see, and it is probable that the many things which you do not see are like what you do see. If this reasoning be correct, then you may well pass the same judgment upon the good and evil which have not yet happened to you as upon the good and evil which have happened to you. — Lysias: What should make me judge of the absent as of the present? — Aristotle: That which is present must necessarily make you pass a judgment on what is absent; or the thing which makes you know the absence of the absent from knowing the presence of the present. — Lysias: What prevents my knowing the present without knowing the absent? Or how is my knowledge of the absent increased by my knowledge of the present? That portion of the earth which I see does not show me the portion which is beyond; neither does my not seeing the portion to which my eye cannot reach hinder my seeing the portion which I can see. — Aristotle: But do not you pass judgment that beyond the earth which we see there is the earth which we do not see? Similarly must you not necessarily pass judgment that beyond those events which have happened to you are those which have not happened, even as you passed judgment that beyond the portion of the earth which you saw there was the earth ​which you did not see? — Lysias: I am constrained to admit that I must judge by the absent of the present. Only tell me this: If I pass no judgment from the present on the absent, does my knowledge of the present suffer any detriment? By knowing which I may derive benefit in judging of the absent from the present. — Aristotle: No one knows a thing who is unable to distinguish it from what differs from it. — Lysias: How so? — Aristotle: If the saying of the wise DARIUS be true, that no one knows the truth who cannot discriminate it from the false, and no one knows what is right who cannot sever it from what is wrong, then so long as you are not acquainted with the absent, you have no means of knowing the present. — Lysias: This subject is over. Now, O guide to philosophy! I would ask you this: Is it possible to embrace in one notion all those things concerning the baseness of which mankind are agreed, fornication, theft, drunkenness, deceit, injustice, treachery, fraud, malice, envy, ignorance, pride, self-complacency, so as to exclude nothing, whereby I might know that the events which have not yet passed over me are like to those which have passed over me? — Aristotle: The possessors of these qualities and characteristics are unjust, false, and self-blinding, insomuch as they strive after what is not theirs. — Lysias: How so? — Aristotle: Do you not see that no one sets about any of these iniquities before avarice, desire, or anger bestir· itself in him, after which he sets about them. Now with avarice, desire, and passion reason cannot remain at peace. And the reason being out of order, it cannot take the right path, and whoso does not take the right path goes astray; he that goes astray is a wrong-doer, and the wrong-doer and the liar are in torment. — Lysias: You have collected under one notion all the vices; could you do the same for the virtues? — Aristotle: To abandon injustice is to adhere to justice and right; and to avoid the false is to strain after the true. If the foulness of the vices has been made clear to you, it must inevitably have been made clear that virtue consists in abandoning ​vice. — Lysias: Is there any mean between vice and virtue? so that having got rid of vice I might not attain to virtue, but remain at the mean; like one who, abandoning falsehood, stops short at silence and speaks neither truth nor falsehood; or one who avoids iniquity and does neither injustice nor justice? — Aristotle: He who is silent elects to be so either with ignorance or with knowledge; if he be silent with knowledge, he is a speaker of truth; if with ignorance he is a liar. So, too, whoso pauses does so either for fraud or for right; if for right, he is just and righteous; if for fraud, he is iniquitous and a doer of injustice. — Lysias: You have made clear to me the difference between all the good and the bad that may happen to me by a clear distinction, and have proved to me that whatever has not happened to me must resemble what has happened. God, who gave thee wisdom, and who protects thee, give thee therefor a meet reward! Never has father in his lifetime tended his child better, or after death left him a more honourable inheritance! — Aristotle: 1£ you are satisfied with the answer to your questions, let Kriton speak, for I can see that he wishes to do so. — Kriton: It is painful to impose on you the burden of speaking, whereas it is sad to be quiet and leave the subject to be finished on some later day. — Aristotle: Withhold nothing, so long as you see a spark of life in me on which I can sustain myself. — Kriton: I heard and understood all the answers you gave Lysias; and I agreed as he did that the absent is to be known from the present. But I am not quite satisfied without knowing what are the qualities and unknown operations of that “absent” to which I confessed and agreed. — Aristotle: I know of nothing in the present or the absent, save knowledge and ignorance, and the reward of the two. — Kriton: How could I acknowledge this of the “absent and the present,” when I have not yet acknowledged it of the present? And though you should force me to acknowledge it of the present, I will not acknowledge it of the absent, save by definition and evidence. — Aristotle: The evidence which tells you it of the present ​will also tell it of the absent. — Kriton: What evidence? — Aristotle: Do you not agree that the right way in seeking the truth is what Sokrates said? — Kriton: And what did he say? — Aristotle: I am told that he said, Whenever you are in difficulty about a question, give it two alternatives, one of which must necessarily be true; then proceed till one of the two is refuted, for with the refutation of the one alternative will come the establishment of the other. — Kriton: Yes, I have observed that he acted thus in difficult investigations. Now what evidence have you about the nature of the present and absent? — Aristotle: Do you not grant that there is nothing outside knowledge and its contrary? — Kriton: I must do so. — Aristotle: Do you grant that things are bettered only by their like, and damaged only by what is unlike them? — Kriton: Undoubtedly. — Aristotle: Then do you not see that if the recompense of knowledge be not like it, it must be the contrary of it? And, if it be the contrary of knowledge, then the recompense of the wise will be ignorance, and the recompense of the seeing blindness, and the recompense of well-doing ill-doing? Now such as this would not be a recompense but a punishment. Then whoever bears the burden of knowledge must allow that he will gain no recompense for it. This judgment being false, the opposite of it is true. The recompense for seeing will be sight; for well-doing, good; for seeking wisdom, finding wisdom — Kriton: You have forced me to agree that knowledge will be rewarded and ignorance punished. — Aristotle: l£ you are satisfied that the recompense of the ignorant is the reverse of the recompense of the wise-otherwise the reward of blindness would be sight and that of goodness badness, and that of hating wisdom obtaining wisdom. Now such a view or doctrine must be false in the eyes of him who has borne the labour of pursuing knowledge in the hope of the reward thereof, and in order to avoid the penalty of ignorance. This opinion being proved false makes the opposite necessarily true. — Kriton: This argument applies as forcibly to me, since I have borne the burden of the searcher ​after knowledge with a view to the reward thereof, and have avoided ignorance fearing its penalty. But what will you say if I withdraw this concession, and deny that knowledge is rewarded and ignorance punished? — Aristotle: Then what induces you to discuss and to argue with me? The desire for the benefit of knowledge and the endeavour to avoid the harm of ignorance or something else? — Kriton: Nay, desire for the benefit of knowledge and the endeavour to avoid the harm of ignorance induce me to do this. — Aristotle: Then you have acknowledged that knowledge is beneficial and ignorance detrimental. Now a reward is not other than beneficial, and a penalty is not other than detrimental. — Kriton: I acknowledge that wisdom is beneficial during life, not after death. — Aristotle: What is the advantage of knowledge during life? A pleasant life or increase of knowledge? — Kriton: I granted the value of knowledge, and I have seen that knowledge is detrimental to the pleasures of life; it necessarily follows that the advantage of knowledge must be in the next world. — Aristotle: If you doubt the benefits accruing to the wise in the next world, while knowledge precludes the enjoyment of this world, it is impossible for you to assert that know· ledge is of value in either world. — Kriton: I see that if I grant that knowledge is beneficial, I must acknowledge that it is so in the next world. I will now deny that it possesses any advantage, in order to be able to deny that it is of advantage in the next world. — Aristotle: Do you not then prefer hearing, seeing, and understanding to blindness, deafness, and folly? — Kriton: Yes. — Aristotle: Do you prefer them for the sake of some advantage or not? — Kriton: For the sake of some advantage. — Aristotle: Once again then you have acknowledged that there is some advantage; and you have the same conclusion forced on you as before. — Kriton: I have ever acknowledged the value of knowledge, so long as I live, in respect of the comfort and peace that I gain from it, and the pain of ignorance that I am freed from; but I know of no other benefit therefrom. — Aristotle: Then is there anything else beyond this which is otherwise ​than it? — Kriton: What evidence is there that there is anything else beyond this, which exists after death and is as it was in life? — Aristotle: Now death is nothing else h11t the soul surviving the body? — Kriton: It is nothing else. — Aristotle: Then is anything “absent” which is benefited in absence except by that whereby it is also benefited in presence? — Kriton: It must be so. — Aristotle: Then why do you ask what it is from which the soul derives benefit in the state of absence from the body other than that from which it derives benefit in the state of presence? Or, what can harm it in the state of absence that does not harm it likewise in the state of presence? — Kriton: You have left me no loophole to deny the value of knowledge in this world and the next, and the harm of ignorance in both; these I must acknowledge, and I allow that you are right in stating that in the present and the absent I know of nothing save knowledge, ignorance, and the recompense of the two. It may be, however, there is something besides these which others have learned, though I have not. — Aristotle: Can an answer be given but after a question? — Kriton: No. — Aristotle: Can a question ever be asked before that which is asked about comes into the mind? — Kriton: No. — Aristotle: If you have a clear notion of that about which you have asked, you have obtained the answer thereto in the answer which you received to your question about knowledge, ignorance, and their recompense. But if you have no notion in your own mind of that about which you would ask, I am not bound to reply. — Kriton: True, my question was not justified, and no answer is due from you. I have obtained the answer to my question. — Aristotle: Then give Simmias leave to speak in his turn. — Simmias said: I heard all that Lysias asked concerning your statements, and the replies you gave Kriton: and all is clear to me except one word that Kriton accepted from you, but which is not clear to me as yet. — Aristotle: Which? — Simmias: I heard you say that there is nothing either in “absence” or “presence” except knowledge, its opposite, and the recompense of the two. Now how can it be clear ​to me that there is nothing save this? — Aristotle: Do you know of anything else? — Simmias: I know of the heavens and the earth, the mountains and the plains, the animals, and all else that is on the dry and the moist, which I cannot call knowledge, nor ignorance, nor the recompense of either without proof. — Aristotle: Do you agree with the saying of Hermes, quoted by me in the. book of physics? — Simmias: What is that saying? — Aristotle: Hermes states that no object acquires strength except by union with its like; and that none acquires weakness except by union with what is unlike it. — Simmias: Yes, it is so; there is nothing in which experience does not show the truth of Hermes’ saying. — Aristotle: Then you have acknowledged that nothing exists except knowledge, ignorance, and the recompense of the two. — Simmias: How so? — Aristotle: Of the things which you have enumerated there is none that does not belong to this world. — Simmias: Certainly. — Aristotle: Know you what it is that induces philosophers to abandon this world? — Simmias: Their knowledge, by seeing that these things are detrimental to the intellect, induces them to take this course. — Aristotle: Then have you not learned that whatever harms the intellect is the opposite of the intellect, and the opposite of the intellect is non-intelligence? — Simmias: If what you say, that these things harm the intellect, be true of the earth, it is not true of the heaven. — Aristotle: Nay, the heaven differs not from the earth in this matter. — Simmias: In what respect are the heavens as detrimental to the intellect as the earth? — Aristotle: The least detriment occasioned to knowledge by the heaven is this, that it prevents the sight from penetrating and passing through; now that which is inimical to sight is inimical to intelligence. — Simmias: This tl1eory is true of the present; what of the absent? — Aristotle: The absent must either be like or unlike the present, must it not? — Simmias: Yes. — Aristotle: If it be like it, must it not help its like? if it be unlike, must it not oppose it and thwart it? — Simmias: Now, indeed, I must certainly agree to all that ​Kriton accepted from you. Now tell me the explanation of a single saying that I have met with in the works of the great Plato: that everything that does good averts ill; but not everything that averts ill does good; and that the philosopher should amass a great quantity of those things which both avert ill and do good, and be content with a small number of those things which avert ill but do no good. — Aristotle: Plato tells you that only those things suit the philosopher which bring him good and avert ill from him; and thereby he means knowledge.which brings illumination to the mind and averts the darkness of ignorance; and he bids him acquire much of it. And of that which averts ill but is unprofitable, which is food, clothing and lodging, he bids him be content with as much as is absolutely necessary, because to exceed the limit in these things does harm to the intellect, whereas to· seek the mean averts ill, but does no positive good, since none of the pleasures of knowledge proceeds therefrom to the mind. Hence it behoves the philosopher to be easily satisfied with obtaining the means of subsistence and very eager to acquire knowledge. — Simmias: What is it that prevents that which averts ill from doing positive good when both agree in averting ill? — Aristotle: That which does positive good differs from that which averts ill in this, that whatever averts ill only, if it be pursued to excess, ceases even to avert ill, and becomes detrimental; whereas that which does positive good, i.e. knowledge, the more there is of it the more beneficial it is; whereas that which averts ill only does so, so long as it in moderation. Do you not see that if you are satisfied with a modicum of food, it averts the mischief of hunger? similarly drink and clothing; whereas all, if there be more of them than is necessary, become detrimental, and their power of averting ill even is annulled, like heavy armour which wounds or kills its bearer. Whereas that which both does good and averts ill (that is, wisdom), however much there be of it, does not, like heavy armour, weigh down its possessor. Thus did Plato distinguish between that which ​does good and that which averts ill, according to what you heard of his sayings. — Simmias: Is there any other term besides these two or not? — Aristotle: One other term remains; if it be added to these others, nothing is left out. — Simmias: What is that? — Aristotle: Things are of three sorts: the thing which both does good and averts ill; that which averts ill, but induces no good; and that which does harrn. — Simmias: What is it that does harm? — Aristotle: A thing which averts ill, when carried to excess, so as to become detrimental. — Simmias: This subject is concluded. My mind is as much brightened by your instruction as the eye of the seer by the light of day. Now tell me: Is there any affinity between that which gives brightness to the mind and that which gives brightness to the eye? Or, is there any resemblance between the mind and the eye? — Aristotle: They are things which do not resemble each other so much in substance as in function. If you have received the answer to your question, let Diogenes speak. — Simmias became silent. — Diogenes then said: I have observed that those philosophers whose mental vision has been most acute have been the most temperate. Now tell me: Do goodness and temperance spring from brightness of mental vision or not? — Aristotle: There are different sorts of passions and divers sorts of intellects. Over against each passion there is an intellect best capable of opposing that passion. Lust in its nature is not the essence of folly, but each is a separate essence, though both are at one in harming the philosopher and keeping him from his recompense. Nor again is that faculty and quality which recommends self-restraint identical with the faculty and quality which overcomes folly and brings knowledge; neither are they opposed to each other; rather is there resemblance and also diversity between the two, like the resemblance and diversity between running water and ice; the one being fine and rare, the other hard and coarse; just so is fine ignorance opposed to fine knowledge, and strong piety to strong lust. And if a man’s habit of temperance is weak and his property of knowledge strong, ​his judgment sees aright, while his conduct, so far as continence goes, is weak; while the intellectual vision and the conduct of him whose case is the opposite are opposite. — Diogenes: How can this be right, when you have said before that nothing exists except knowledge, ignorance, and the recompense of each? Now you have acknowledged the exietence of knowledge, ignorance, continence, lust, and other things. — Aristotle: Do you not see that running water and ice resemble each other? Similar to this is the resemblance of lust to ignorance, and the rest are like this too. Being similar in operation they become one in name. — Diogenes: How do I know that ignorance is to lust as running water to ice? — Aristotle: Do you not see that both hurt the intellect, just as running water and ice neither tolerate heat? — Diogenes: This subject is over. Now tell me: Which science is the most proper for me. to pursue? — Aristotle: Since the pursuit of philosophy is the best of the pursuits of this world, and the recompense therefor is the greatest of the recompenses of the next world, philosophy is the best science that you can pursue. — Diogenes: Is there. any other knowledge besides philosophy or not? — Aristotle: The vulgar herd have a sort of knowledge and science and truth and honesty and generosity and other wasted virtues, which are as different from wisdom as the form of an· animal is from a picture or sketch on a wall. — Diogenes: Why do you call those virtues of the vulgar herd wasted? — Aristotle: On account of the ignorance of the vulgar with regard to them. — Diogenes: How so? — Aristotle: Because the vulgar wise man brings bis knowledge into play there where it will not increase his gain, and their merciful man spares him who is worthy of exemplary punishment, and their veracious man brings his veracity into play when it pleases him, though the truth be obscene, and their liberal man is liberal to the unworthy, and their faithful man keeps bis promises to people’s ruin, and their hearer hears to no purpose. Beyond a doubt these good qualities are wasted in them, and no more resemble the virtues of the wise than a painting on ​a wall resembles a living animal. — Diogenes: How does your illustration correspond with the virtues of the few and of the many? — Aristotle: Have you not learned that knowledge is life and ignorance death? — Diogenes: Yes. — Aristotle: The knowledge of the wise man vivifies his actions, whereas the folly of the ignorant mortifies his. — Diogenes: Then are their good actions any better than their bad ones or not? — Aristotle: They are not. — Diogenes: How so? — Aristotle: The well-doer of the vulgar intends to do good, and takes a wrong path. The evil-doer among them intends evil and carries it out in the wrong way. They are just alike and neither has the advantage. — Diogenes: I know now in what way their virtues are wasted. Now show the superiority of wisdom without which no actions are profitable. — Aristotle: Whosoever has seen good, abandoned evil, and entered into goodness has acted in accordance with wisdom; and whosoever has intended good and erred, or intended evil and carried it out, has departed from wisdom. — Diogenes: This whole subject is clear. Now tell me: To whom was this thing, I mean wisdom, first made clear? — Aristotle: The minds of men are far from being able to attain to any thing so grand without teaching; just as their eyes are far from seeing without the light of a lamp. — Diogenes: From whom did the philosophers learn it? — Aristotle: The heralds and ambassadors of the different ages in the different regions of the globe were constantly summoning mankind thereunto; and the first person on earth to whom that knowledge came by revelation was Hermes. — Diogenes: Whence came it to Hermes? — Aristotle: His mind was taken up to heaven and it came to him from the Archangels, who had got it from the record of God. From him it came to the earth, and was received by the sages. — Diogenes: How am I to know that Hermes obtained that knowledge from the inhabitants of heaven? — Aristotle: If that knowledge be the truth, it can come from above. — Diogenes: Why? — Aristotle: Do you not see that the upper part of each thing is better than the lower? The ​upper part of water and its surface are purer than the lower; the higher parts of the earth are pleasanter and fairer than the lower parts; the best member of a man is his head, the purest thing in a tree is its fruit; and so on with everything. The fittest thing, therefore, to come from on high is wisdom. Another proof is this: the substance and nature of wisdom have overcome and out-topped everything else. — Diogenes: O guide to wisdom! Our minds vary not the least from thine. Make a compact between us which will guard us from differing with one another! — Aristotle: If you would follow my ways, imitate my books. — Diogenes: There are so many. Which will settle differences between us best if any such arise? — Aristotle: Questions concerning the “first science” and the science of theology you should seek from the book of Hermes; for difficulties in the way of politics [you should go to the Politics, and for] difficulties in natural science, to the Physics; for difficulties about good and bad actions, to the Ethics; whereas if any difference arise among you about the definitions of speech, you should refer to the four books of Logic, the first the Categories, the second περὶ ἑρμηνείας, the third ἀναλυτική, the fourth ἀποδεικτική, or book of Demonstration, which tells you how to distinguish between true and false. There you will obtain light on dark matters.
When Aristotle had spoken thus far, his soul became powerless; his hand shook, and the apple fell out of his hand. The philosophers all rose and came near to him, and kissed his hand and eyes and eulogized him. He grasped Kriton’s hand and laid it on his face, saying, “I commit my spirit to the Receiver of the spirits of the wise.” Then he ceased and his spirit passed away. His friends lamented over him, saying, “The day of knowledge is over.”