Sextus - Empiricus Against Those in The Disciplines - Richard - Bett

OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 26/3/2018, SPi
Sextus Empiricus
Sextus Empiricus
Against Those in the Disciplines
Translated with introduction and notes by

Richard Bett
1
3
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Contents
List of Abbreviations vii
Introduction 1
Note on the Text and Translation 25
Outline of Argument 30
Sextus Empiricus: Against Those in the Disciplines

Book 1 39
Introduction to the entire work 39
General arguments against the disciplines 41
Against the Grammarians 49
Book 2: Against the Rhetoricians 127
Book 3: Against the Geometers 155
Book 4: Against the Arithmeticians 184
Book 5: Against the Astrologers 194
Book 6: Against the Musicians 219
Persons Referred to in Against Those in the Disciplines 237

Glossary 247
Parallels between Against Those in the Disciplines
and Other Works of Sextus 253
Bibliography 255
Index 261
List of Abbreviations
Note: proposals for changes to the Greek text that are attributed in the
notes to scholars by last name alone, where those names are not included
in this list, are recorded in Mau’s apparatus criticus. Scholarly works
cited by author and date are included in the Bibliography.
Bekker Sextus Empiricus, ex recensione Immanuelis

Bekkeri (Berlin: Reimer, 1842)
Blank Sextus Empiricus, Against the Grammarians,
translated with an introduction and commentary
by David Blank (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998)
Bury Sextus Empiricus, Against the Professors, with an
English translation by the Rev. R.G. Bury
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1949—vol. 4 of complete Loeb series of Sextus)
CAG Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca (Berlin:
Reimer, 1882–1909, multiple volumes)
Davidson Greaves Sextus Empiricus, Against the Musicians: a new
critical text and translation on facing pages, with
an introduction, annotations, and indices
verborum and nominum et rerum by Denise
Davidson Greaves (Lincoln, NE: University of
Nebraska Press, 1986)
Diels Doxographi Graeci, collegit, recensuit,
prolegomenis indicibusque instruxit Hermannus
Diels (Berlin: Reimer, 1879)
DK H. Diels and W. Kranz, Die Fragmente der
Vorsokratiker (Berlin: Weidmann, 6th edition
1951)
Fabricius Sexti Empirici Opera Graece et Latine:
Pyrrhoniarum institutionum libri III cum Henrici
Stephani versione et notis, Contra mathematicos
viii LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS
sive disciplinarum professores, libri VI, Contra

philosophos libri V, cum versione Gentiani
Herveti, Graeca ex mss. codicibus castigavit,
versiones emendavit supplevitque et toti operi
notas addidit Johannis Albertus Fabricius (Leipzig:
Kuehniana, revised edition 1840–1—originally
published 1718)
Heintz Werner Heintz, Studien zu Sextus Empiricus
(Halle: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1932)
Helmreich Claudii Galeni Pergameni Scripta Minora, vol. 3,
ed. Georg Helmreich (Leipzig: Teubner, 1893)
Jürß Sextus Empiricus, Gegen die Wissenschaftler Buch
1–6, aus dem Griechischen übersetzt, eingeleitet
und kommentiert von Fritz Jürß (Würzburg:
Königshausen & Neumann, 2001)
Kassel-Austin Poetae Comici Graeci, ed. R. Kassel and C. Austin
(Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 1983)
Kock Comicorum Atticorum Fragmenta, ed. Theodor
Kock, 3 vols. (Leipzig: Teubner, 1880–8)
Kühn Galeni Opera Omnia, 20 vols. (Leipzig, 1819–33;
reissued 1965, Hildesheim)
LS A.A. Long and D.N. Sedley, The Hellenistic
Philosophers, 2 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1987)
LSJ Liddell–Scott–Jones, A Greek–English Lexicon
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968 and subsequent
printings—revised supplement, 1996)
M Sextus Empiricus, Adversus Mathematicos
(see Introduction, Section 1)
Mau Sexti Empirici Opera, vol. 3 (Leipzig: Teubner,
1961)
Nauck August Nauck, Tragicorum Graecorum
Fragmenta, 2nd edition 1889, reprinted with a
supplement by Bruno Snell (Hildesheim: Georg
Olms Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1964)
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS ix
OCD S. Hornblower, A. Spawforth, and E. Edinow

(eds.), The Oxford Classical Dictionary, 4th edition
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012)
OED The Compact Edition of the Oxford English
Dictionary (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1971)
Pellegrin et al. Sextus Empiricus, Contre les professeurs:
introduction, glossaire et index par Pierre
Pellegrin, traduction par Catherine Dalimier,
Daniel Delattre, Joëlle Delattre, et Brigitte Pérez,
sous la direction de Pierre Pellegrin (Paris:
Éditions du Seuil, 2002)
Pfeiffer Callimachus, ed. Rudolf Pfeiffer (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1949–53)
PH Sextus Empiricus, Outlines of Pyrrhonism (see
Introduction, Section 1)
Spinelli Sesto Empirico, Contro gli astrologi, a cura di
Emidio Spinelli (Naples: Bibliopolis, 2000)
SVF H. von Arnim, Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta,
3 vols. (Leipzig: Teubner, 1903–5)
TLG Thesaurus Linguae Graecae (searchable online
corpus of all ancient Greek texts)
West² M.L. West, Iambi et elegi graeci, 2nd edition
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989–92)
Introduction
1. Life and works

Sextus Empiricus is the only ancient Greek skeptic who composed
written works some of which have survived. The Greek word skeptikos
literally means “inquirer”, and that is what Sextus and those in his tra-
dition called themselves; another label they used for themselves was
“Pyrrhonist”, after Pyrrho of Elis, from whom they claimed inspiration.
Sextus stands near the end of this tradition, which lasted intermittently for
several centuries; we hear of a pupil of his named Saturninus (Diogenes
Laertius 9.116), but after that there are no identifiable Pyrrhonists in
antiquity. He is generally placed in the second century CE, but the complete
lack of reference to him in Galen (129–216 CE) suggests a slightly later
floruit, perhaps in the early third century. This is because he was a doctor—
that is the only really solid piece of autobiographical information he
gives us (PH 2.238, M 1.260, M 11.47)—and, to judge from his title, a
member of the Empiric school of medicine (as were other Pyrrhonists);
Diogenes Laertius also calls him “Sextus the Empiricist” (9.116), and the
pseudo-Galenic Introduction or Doctor actually refers to him as a head of
the school (Kühn XIV, 683–4). The matter is complicated by the fact that in
the one place in his surviving works where he actually discusses medical
Empiricism (PH 1.236–41), Sextus seems to distance himself from it and to
claim a closer affinity to skepticism for another school of medicine, the
Methodic school. But whatever the resolution of that issue,¹ Sextus was
clearly involved not just in medical practice, but in debates about medicine;
¹ The question is well treated in Allen 2010. One possibility is that Sextus does not mean
to repudiate Empiricism as a whole, but only one variety of Empiricism. But while the text
admits of this reading, that still leaves the preference for Methodism (rather than an
another, favored variety of Empiricism) to be accounted for.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
besides the passage just mentioned, he refers to (now lost) works of his
called Medical Treatises (M 7.202) and Empirical Treatises (M 1.61).² Galen
wrote about both Empiricism and Methodism,³ had voluminous know-
ledge of the medical discussions of his time, and was not shy about naming
those whose ideas he was considering; for him to have had nothing to say
about Sextus would be very surprising—unless Sextus postdated him.
Beyond this (which is already more definite than many scholars would
be comfortable with), we really know nothing about Sextus the man.⁴
There are very few references to him by name in antiquity, and very few
indications of his works being read. Another curious point is that these
works seem to show no awareness of the philosophy of Sextus’ own day.
Even if one discounts Galen’s silence, Sextus refers in the past tense to the
emperor Tiberius (PH 1.84), which puts him no earlier than the middle
of the first century CE; and yet his knowledge of the history of philosophy,
to judge from those he names, seems to end in the early first century BCE.⁵
The revived Platonism and Aristotelianism that dominated late antiquity
were underway in Sextus’ lifetime (whenever precisely that was), but one
gets no hint of this from his works. This is just one of many questions
about Sextus that are likely to remain unanswered.⁶ In any case, his own
² These may or may not be distinct; they may be the same work under alternative titles,
or the latter may be a part of the former.
³ A good introduction is Frede 1985.
⁴ House 1980 details our comprehensive ignorance, and is also much more non-
committal about Sextus’ dates. On the latter, I have been influenced by Jouanna 2009;
although the argument from Galen’s silence is not new, and although arguments from
silence are never conclusive, Jouanna makes a strong case for how unlikely it would be for
Galen not to refer to Sextus if they were contemporaries. He also sets a terminus ante quem
by the dates of Hippolytus (c.170–c.236 CE), whose Refutation of all Heresies includes text
that is very close to a considerable amount of Sextus’ Against the Astrologers (M 5) and has
generally been thought to be copied from it with insignificant changes. But this is more
questionable; Hippolytus and Sextus could each be drawing on some now lost common
source. This has been argued for in particular by Janáček 1959, 1964 (although Janáček’s
case depends on a highly disputable view of Sextus’ stylistic development; see n. 13).
⁵ The Stoic Basilides is a possible exception (see M 8.258); a Stoic of this name is attested
as a teacher of Marcus Aurelius. But we also have a list of Stoics, seemingly ordered by
chronology, in which a Stoic Basilides shows up in a group from the second century BCE (see
Rose 1866, 370–1). Sextus could be referring to either one.
⁶ Sedley 2003 shows that Sextus was by no means alone in treating philosophy as
extending no later than the early first century BCE, and posits a major transformation of
philosophy, in the mid-first century BCE, towards a project of “recovering and understand-
ing the wisdom of the ancients” (36)—rather than oneself contributing new wisdom, as it
had been previously conceived. Sedley’s case is powerful and intriguing, but I do not think it
fully accounts for the case of Sextus. For Sextus clearly does not think of himself as
INTRODUCTION 
obscurity was not permanent. Since the revival of interest in antiquity in

the Renaissance, his works have attracted much more attention; to pick
out just two points in what could be a long history of his reception, there
were Latin translations of all of them by the 1560s,⁷ and there is consid-
erable interest in them among contemporary epistemologists.
Of these works, the one presented in this volume is undoubtedly the
least well known, at any rate among philosophers. The reason for this is
no doubt because its subject matter is not directly philosophical. Sextus’
best-known work, Outlines of Pyrrhonism (abbreviated as PH, the trans-
literated initials of the Greek title), consists of one book expounding the
skeptical outlook in general terms, and two books examining the theories
of non-skeptics in the three traditional divisions of philosophy: logic,
physics, and ethics. Another work, consisting of two books Against the
Logicians, two Against the Physicists, and one Against the Ethicists, does
the second of these things at much greater length, but was also almost
certainly preceded by a lost book or books of general exposition, paral-
leling the first book of PH.⁸ In contrast to both these works, Against Those
in the Disciplines consists of six books, each dealing with a different
specialized non-philosophical field: grammar, rhetoric, geometry, arith-
metic, astrology, and music. As one might expect, Sextus frequently refers
to theories and ideas in these fields in the course of his treatment; the level
of technicality varies from one book to another, the first and by far the
longest book, Against the Grammarians, being the most challenging in this
respect. One of the functions of my notes to the translation is to aid the
reader in comprehending the details of the subjects under discussion.
recovering ancient wisdom; while he talks a lot about earlier philosophies, this is always in
the service of his own present brand of Pyrrhonism. Indeed, when it comes to documenting
the relations between earlier philosophers (even earlier Pyrrhonists) and his own thought,
he seems to go out of his way to distance them all from himself; this may even be a reaction
against the tendency in his day to appeal to founding figures from the past (on this, see Bett
2015a). If so, of course, he does have at least a general awareness of the contemporary
philosophical zeitgeist. However, since one of his goals is clearly to promote and publicize
Pyrrhonism, his lack of direct engagement with the alternative philosophies of his contem-
poraries is still very surprising.
⁷ See Floridi 2010.
⁸ The first sentence of Against the Logicians (M 7.1) refers back to just such a general
exposition. This was long thought to be a back-reference to PH. But PH as a whole is not a
general exposition—only its first book is; the reference must therefore be to a general
exposition originally preceding Against the Logicians as part of the same work. This was
established by Janáček 1963.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
However, one does not need to be an expert in these fields in order

to appreciate that here, as in his more straightforwardly philosophical
works, Sextus is espousing a skeptical outlook of considerable interest.
The Greek title of this work, Pros mathêmatikous, or its Latinized
equivalent Adversus mathematicos (standardly abbreviated as M or, to
indicate its six books,⁹ M 1–6), has sometimes been rendered Against the
Professors. But the title “professor” has no exact equivalent in the ancient
world and may have misleading associations. In the past I have used
Against the Learned, appealing to the basic meaning (“learn”) of the root
math-. But I now prefer a translation picking up on the word that is the
immediate basis of mathêmatikos: the word mathêma, “discipline” or
“field of study” (literally, “thing learned”), which is much appealed to
in the introduction to the whole work (M 1.1–8). Sextus emphasizes here
that it is these disciplines, and their practitioners the mathêmatikoi,
that he is going to be dealing with;¹⁰ it seems appropriate for the title to
reflect that.
The order of composition of Sextus’ works has been a topic of con-
siderable debate, mostly centering around the question whether PH was
written before or after the longer work that covers broadly the same
ground.¹¹ Concerning M 1–6, it clearly comes after the longer of those
two works; it contains specific back references to Against the Physicists
(M 1.35, 3.116), and also references to identifiable passages of this work
under what is presumably Sextus’ title for the whole work: Skeptika
Hupomnêmata, Skeptical Treatises (M 1.26, 29, 6.52).¹² Since a number
of passages in M 1–6 have close parallels in this work, it may be of
interest to bear in mind which came first. The relation between M 1–6
and PH is much less clear; there are no explicit references to PH in M 1–6
⁹ Also to distinguish it from Against the Logicians, Physicists, and Ethicists; see n. 12.
¹⁰ Mathêma can sometimes refer to mathematical disciplines in particular, and we shall
see a few cases, in the context of the mathematical books (3 and 4), where this is probably
what Sextus means by the term. But the more general sense is the usual one in this work.
¹¹ I have discussed this question in the introductions to Bett 1997, Bett 2005, and Bett
2012.
¹² Perhaps because of the loss of the opening general book or books, the surviving books
of Skeptical Treatises came to be regarded as a continuation of M 1–6; hence Against the
Logicians is standardly abbreviated as M 7–8, Against the Physicists as M 9–10, and Against
the Ethicists as M 11. Although this makes no sense at all, since M 1–6 is a complete and
self-contained work on a quite distinct subject, this standard nomenclature is entrenched
and I shall adhere to it for purposes of reference.
INTRODUCTION 
or vice versa.¹³ There are some passages where the same topics are treated
in both works, but with the possible exception of some general arguments
against teaching and learning—versions of which appear in all three
works (M 1.9–40, M 11.216–57, PH 3.252–72)—the parallels between M
1–6 and PH are less close than between M 1–6 and the longer work.
Nevertheless, PH, being the only one of Sextus’ three surviving works¹⁴ to
contain a general account of the skeptical outlook, is important for our
understanding of what his brand of Pyrrhonist skepticism is. I turn to this
matter next, before focusing on a number of key features of M 1–6 itself.
2. Sextus’ Pyrrhonist skepticism

Pyrrhonist skepticism is not the only variety of skepticism in ancient
Greek and Roman philosophy. The Academy, the school founded by
Plato, was for most of the Hellenistic period dominated by a skeptical
outlook; though these Academics did not call themselves skeptics—the
term itself seems to originate with the Pyrrhonists—their attitudes were
already recognized in antiquity as having much in common with
Pyrrhonism. The relations between Academic and Pyrrhonist skepticism
are complicated and, since Sextus discusses the Academics not infre-
quently, can sometimes be important for understanding what he is saying.
However, in M 1–6 the Academics make only one appearance—Sextus
appeals to their views on the uselessness of rhetoric (M 2.20–43)—and
they need not be further considered here.
As noted earlier, the Pyrrhonist tradition starts with Pyrrho of Elis
(c.360–c.270 BCE). Pyrrho wrote nothing, but his ideas and lifestyle were
recorded by his disciple Timon of Phlius (c.320–c.230 BCE) and perhaps
¹³ PH has generally been regarded as the earliest of the three works. But this view arose as
a result of a mistake; cf. n. 8. Karel Janáček, having exposed the mistake (see Janáček 1963),
nonetheless continued to argue on stylistic grounds that PH was written first; see Janáček
1972 and Janáček 2008 (a posthumous compilation of his smaller essays on Sextus and
skepticism). These studies are important in establishing stylistic differences among the
works—differences of a kind that do indeed point to their having been composed at
different times (on this point, see Bett 2015b, 35). But that does not tell us the order of
the works, and Janáček’s chronological suppositions are a house of cards; see Bett 1997,
Appendix C. In the commentary on chapter VII (with Appendix A) of the same work,
I argued on the basis of parallel passages that PH is the latest of the three works, but the case
is not conclusive.
¹⁴ Besides the lost medical works referred to earlier, Sextus also refers to a now lost work
of his On the Soul (M 6.55, M 10.284).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
others. Timon’s writings have survived only in fragments, and the

reconstruction of Pyrrho’s thought is, to say the least, difficult and
controversial.¹⁵ In M 1–6 Sextus refers a few times to both Pyrrho and
Timon (M 1.53, 281–2, 305–6, 3.2, 6.66), generally signaling his agree-
ment with their approach to some topic; but neither here nor elsewhere
does he tell us in any detail what they said or thought. From his perspec-
tive, indeed, they are probably rather remote figures having no deep
connection with his own skeptical practice. The historical link itself is
somewhat tenuous. After a generation or so of immediate followers,
interest in Pyrrho seems to have lapsed until, in the early first century
BCE, he was adopted as a figurehead for a new skeptical movement by
Aenesidemus of Cnossos, himself a former member of the Academy. Our
information on Aenesidemus is also scanty (though we know that, unlike
Pyrrho, he did write books);¹⁶ but there is no clear evidence that Aene-
sidemus’ choice to call himself and his colleagues “followers of Pyrrho”
(hoi apo Purrônos) was based on detailed consideration of Pyrrho’s
thought, rather than a general sense of common attitudes and demeanor.
In any case, the movement started by Aenesidemus is the Pyrrhonism to
which Sextus later belonged. We have no other writings from it besides
those of Sextus—beyond our very limited evidence on Aenesidemus,
virtually all we know about this Pyrrhonism prior to Sextus are the
names of a few other adherents.
As suggested earlier, Sextus’ version of Pyrrhonism is best approached
by way of the first book of PH. Early in this book Sextus offers and
explains the following one-sentence description of what skepticism is:
“The skeptical ability is one that produces oppositions among things that
appear and things that are thought in any way whatsoever, one from
which, because of the equal strength in the opposing objects and
accounts, we come first to suspension of judgement, and after that to
tranquility” (PH 1.8). A three-stage procedure is sketched here. In the
first stage, one collects impressions (“things that appear”, which may
refer to sensory impressions or more generally to any way in which
things strike one unreflectively) and opinions or arguments (“things
that are thought”) on any given question. These impressions, opinions,
¹⁵ For a brief account of the issues, see Bett 2014a.

¹⁶ Our access to this evidence has been greatly improved by Polito 2014.
INTRODUCTION 
and arguments exhibit oppositions among one another; there may be

contradictory impressions of the same thing, or contradictory arguments
about it, or an unreflective impression may be contradicted by an argu-
ment on the same subject—this multiplicity is the force of “in any way
whatsoever”. Now, faced with such oppositions among the impressions,
opinions, and arguments on any given question, what is one to do? One
might try to decide among them and so discover the truth about the
matter. But according to Sextus, this will not succeed. This is because the
opposing perspectives exhibit the feature of “equal strength” (isostheneia).
That is, one has no greater inclination to opt for any one of them than
for any other; each one strikes one as having equal weight. In this
situation, the only possible result is that one suspends judgement; this is
the second stage.
The third stage, tranquility, can wait for a moment; several questions
need to be addressed about the story so far. First, how are we to understand
this notion of “equal strength”? Is it that one judges the opposing positions
to be of equal rational merit, and one suspends judgement because one
draws the conclusion that one ought rationally to do so? Or is it a purely
psychological process, where one simply finds oneself equally inclined or
disinclined towards either side (or every side) of the case, and given that
situation, finds oneself declining to assent to any of the alternatives? Both
interpretations have their adherents.¹⁷ A difficulty for the first, rational
interpretation is that the standards of rationality appealed to would seem
themselves to be fodder for the skeptic’s “ability” at assembling opposi-
tions. On the other hand, Sextus does talk of the necessity of suspending
judgement, and this is at times hard not to read as referring to rational
necessity, a necessity imposed by the merit of the arguments. This is
particularly true when it comes to the groups of standardized arguments
known as the Modes (PH 1.35–179).¹⁸
Second, whichever reading of “equal strength” we adopt, why is Sextus
so sure that “equal strength” will in fact be produced on every topic? The
answer, I take it, has to do with the skeptic’s “ability” (dunamis): the skeptic
¹⁷ For the first, rational interpretation see Perin 2010, chapter 2; Vogt 2012, chapter 5.3.
For the second, psychological interpretation see Williams 2010.
¹⁸ See Bett 2011a. Here I illustrate why the Modes are hard to fit with the psychological
interpretation, while also expressing a general preference for that interpretation.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
is someone who is very good at accumulating opposing perspectives in

such a way that they exhibit such “equal strength”. Of course, a set of
oppositions that one audience finds of “equal strength”, another audience
may not; hence it seems that the procedure will need to be sensitive to
whom one is talking to, and Sextus confirms this point (PH 3.280–1).
A natural worry is that there is liable to be a large measure of contrivance
or manipulation in this process; the skeptic is set on generating a certain
type of attitude, regardless of the actual merits of the issue under discus-
sion. But the skeptic’s response would no doubt be to challenge the norms
of rationality, logical validity, etc. on which this worry depends.
Third, I have said that the procedure can be applied “on any given
question”, but what is the scope of this? One thing that is clear is that
Pyrrhonist skepticism is not a stance specifically within epistemology, as
are most forms of skepticism in contemporary philosophy. One can, of
course, apply the procedure to questions concerning the nature and
extent of our knowledge, and at times Sextus does so (in the ancient
taxonomy what we call epistemology falls under logic). But there is no
inherent limitation to this or to any other particular subject matter, and
the subjects considered in M 1–6 are a good example of this. A more
controversial matter is, as one might put it, the level at which these
questions are to be addressed. Does Pyrrhonist skepticism apply only to
the intellectual postures of philosophers or other theorists, or also to the
non-theoretical beliefs of ordinary people? Sextus sometimes suggests
that he is a supporter of everyday attitudes or practices as against the
abstractions of theorists, and, as we shall see, M 1–6 includes several
examples of this tendency. But sometimes ordinary people’s views them-
selves figure among the items placed in opposition. It may be that Sextus
vacillates on this question.
Finally, Sextus’ characterization of skepticism as an ability points
to another important contrast with the way skepticism is understood
in philosophy today. Pyrrhonist skepticism is not a theory or a conclu-
sion but, as I have called it several times, a process or a procedure. The
Pyrrhonist skeptic does not assert or deny some set of propositions, but
does something—namely, brings about suspension of judgement. And
this, incidentally, is an activity that has to be kept up; whereas one might
develop some theory or reach some conclusion and be done with the
matter, suspension of judgement needs to be maintained over time (in
oneself or in others) by ever-renewed exercise of the “ability”.
INTRODUCTION 
The effect of this activity, as Sextus concludes by saying, is tranquility

(ataraxia). More specifically, as he tells us elsewhere (PH 1.25–30,
M 11.141–4), he is talking about tranquility in matters of opinion. All
of us, skeptics included, suffer hunger, thirst, pain, etc. (although skep-
tics, it turns out, are better off than others even here—the reasons would
take us too far afield). But the holding of opinions can also be a source of
disturbance, and suspension of judgement—which is, precisely, the
withdrawal from opinions—can therefore release one from disturbance.
As for why this should be, Sextus seems to tell two somewhat different
stories. His initial mention of ataraxia suggests that suspension of
judgement quite generally brings tranquility, and the following sections
shed a little more light on this. He tells us that the skeptic is someone
who initially tries to discover the truth, thinking to attain ataraxia in
that way (PH 1.26, 28–9, cf. 12). But this does not happen; being faced
with the “equal strength” of the opposing considerations, he is forced to
suspend judgement instead. However, it turns out that this suspension
of judgement produces the very tranquility he was seeking in the first
place.¹⁹ It sounds, then, as if wanting to discover the truth but being
unsure about it is upsetting; one initially tries to achieve tranquility
through discovery, but one actually achieves it by suspending judge-
ment and thus giving up on the worrisome and unsuccessful search.
And all this applies regardless of the subject matter. On the other hand,
whenever Sextus explicitly addresses the question why suspension of
judgement yields tranquility, his answer always concerns beliefs about
one specific subject matter: whether or not certain things are by nature
good and others by nature bad. Beliefs to the effect that there are such
things, he claims, make one care far too much about getting the good
and avoiding the bad (PH 1.27–8, 30, 3.235–8, M 11.110–67). The
skeptic, by contrast, is tranquil because of not having these beliefs;
if one does not hold that anything is good or bad by nature, the stakes
are just much lower. It may be possible to reconcile these two stories,
but one might wish Sextus had done more to explain how they relate
¹⁹ Of course, a further account would be needed of how this initial attainment of

tranquility through suspension of judgement is transformed into the skeptic’s settled
“ability” to generate suspension of judgement (and thereby tranquility). Sextus does
not supply this, but I think it is not too hard to imagine an account that would fill
the gap.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
to one another.²⁰ In any case, suspension of judgement is supposed to

improve one’s life, so that the skeptic is better off than the non-skeptical
philosopher—or “dogmatist”, to use Sextus’ language—and perhaps
also than ordinary people, since they too are said to hold that certain
things are by nature good or bad (PH 1.30).
So skepticism is not a threat to be warded off, as it is typically viewed
in contemporary philosophy; on the contrary, it is to be embraced as
freeing one from worry. Nor are its benefits confined to the purely
intellectual realm; skepticism is a way of life, whose benefits are quite
practical. We may or may not find all of this believable, but this is the
picture Sextus offers us.
Now, I have relied on PH 1 for this exposition of Sextus’ skepticism
because it is by far the fullest and most explicit surviving text in which
he explains his outlook. But his one really clear programmatic remark in
the introductory section of M 1–6 seems precisely in line with the ideas
we have just been considering. Sextus says that “the same sort of thing
happened to [the Pyrrhonists] in the case of the disciplines as it did in the
case of philosophy as a whole. For just as they went after it with a longing
to attain the truth, but after encountering conflict of equal strength and
lack of uniformity in the objects they suspended judgement, so too in the
case of the disciplines they set out to pick them up, here too seeking to
learn the truth, but on discovering equal impasses they did not conceal
them” (M 1.6). The focus is on the initial search for the truth and its
outcome in suspension of judgement, rather than the ongoing project of
generating suspension of judgement to which that leads. But Sextus is
very deliberately telling us that his procedure here is the same as his usual
one, and his description of that procedure is entirely recognizable from
the account we have looked at in PH. In fact, some of the language is
virtually identical in both works: “lack of uniformity in the objects”
occurs in both texts (anômaliai tôn pragmatôn, M 1.6; tên en tois
pragmasi anômalian, PH 1.12), and “conflict of equal strength” (isosthe-
nei machêi, M 1.6) echoes “dispute of equal strength” in the other work
(isosthenê diaphônian, PH 1.26). Thus Sextus’ preview at the opening of
M 1–6 seems clear: he is going to create oppositions among theories and
²⁰ I have discussed this matter in Bett 2010 (esp. 189–90) and Bett 2011b (esp. 7–9). It is
notable that in one passage, PH 1.25–30, he seems to switch freely between the two, as if
there was no difference between them.
INTRODUCTION 
contentions in the disciplines, oppositions that, because of their “equal

strength”, will result in suspension of judgement—just as he does in the
more strictly philosophical subjects that are addressed in PH. There is no
mention here of ataraxia, but that is no surprise; in general Sextus
confines his discussions of ataraxia to his basic exposition of Pyrrhonism
in PH 1 and his writings on ethics. The focus here, as it is throughout
Sextus’ works, is on generating suspension of judgement, and ataraxia,
its by-product, does not need to be mentioned.
3. Negative dogmatism?
So everything looks in order. But there is a complication. Once M 1–6
gets underway, it often does not look as if Sextus is doing what he said he
was going to do. To repeat, Sextus’ self-description has the Pyrrhonist
skeptic suspending judgement, not arguing for definite conclusions—
even negative ones. Thus arguments to the effect that nothing in a certain
domain can be known, or that a certain item does not exist, or that a
certain activity is useless, do not count as skepticism according to the
Pyrrhonist; instead, they are just another form of dogmatism—“negative
dogmatism”, as modern scholarship has called it. (We see here another
contrast with skepticism as discussed in modern philosophy, where
“the skeptic” is usually someone who makes negative knowledge or
existence claims.) And yet negative dogmatism is precisely what Sextus
seems to be engaging in at many points in M 1–6.
The very first phrase of the whole work—“the counter-argument
against those in the disciplines”—already brings the matter into focus.
Sextus says that the Epicureans and the Pyrrhonists both made such
“counter-arguments”, though of different kinds (M 1.1). But although he
criticizes the Epicureans for being dogmatic in criticizing the disciplines
for their uselessness (M 1.5), and this is repeated in a later book (M 6.4),
he does not back away from the idea that the Pyrrhonist is in the business
of issuing counter-arguments. Even after having spoken of the skeptical
enterprise of suspension of judgement, in the passage we considered at
the end of Section 2, he immediately reverts to repeated talk of assem-
bling arguments against the disciplines, and the introductory section ends,
as it began, with the word “counter-argument” (antirrêsin, M 1.7–8). And
this really sets the tone for much of the work. For example, in the middle
books on geometry and arithmetic, Sextus argues that lines, points,
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
circles, etc.—the basic entities of geometry—do not exist (M 3.92), and

that there is no such thing as number, the starting point of arithmetic
(M 4.34). In the final book, too, music is argued to be non-existent
(M 6.38). Sometimes, despite his criticism of the Epicureans, he
argues that something is useless; this is his final verdict on grammar
(M 1.320). And sometimes the two kinds of argument are merged, as
when he argues that rhetoric is non-existent (M 2.60, 88), but the
arguments prominently include the idea that if there is to be any
such thing as rhetoric, an expertise (technê) of public speaking, it
must be useful—which it is not (M 2.26–43, 49). There is no mention
of suspension of judgement; indeed, Sextus’ usual noun and verb for
suspending judgement (epochê, epechô) make virtually no appearance
after the introductory remarks, and never again in programmatic contexts
(M 1.28, 157, 2.99).²¹ Instead, every single book is summed up by saying
that arguments have been conducted against the things believed in by the
disciplines in question.²²
How are we to account for this discrepancy? An easy answer goes as
follows. Of course Sextus’ discussion is going to consist largely of argu-
ments against the disciplines under consideration. The arguments for
those disciplines are supplied by the disciplines themselves. In supplying
negative arguments, Sextus is simply doing what he always claimed to be
doing: bringing about a situation of “equal strength”. The positive side of
the case is already present, so “equal strength” demands precisely what
Sextus in fact gives us—a heavy dose of the negative side.
I think that this answer is ultimately the correct answer, but that it is
not quite enough by itself. One point is that the consistency, the fre-
quency, and the tone of the references to counter-argument, argument
against, argument for something’s non-existence or uselessness, and
so on, certainly make it sound as if Sextus’ aim in M 1–6 is to win the
debate, not to bring it to a stalemate in suspension of judgement.
Admittedly, there are numerous cases in his other works where one
might be led to think that his goal is to show that the dogmatists are
²¹ See also isologias, “equal arguments”, at M 1.144, referring to arguments of equal

strength. But this too is a passing mention, not addressing Sextus’ general intentions.
²² Sextus says this about geometry and arithmetic together, at the close of Against the
Arithmeticians (M 4.34); this is one reason why these two books have sometimes been
thought to have originally been a single book. In every other case, a summary comment of
this kind, about the discipline just discussed, appears in the final sentences of the book.
INTRODUCTION 
wrong; the long stretches of negative argument in Against the Logicians

and Against the Physicists are good examples. But in those cases Sextus
regularly makes clear that he is not endorsing the conclusions of these
negative arguments, but using them to balance the positive arguments
of the dogmatists (which he often supplies in his own text);²³ at one point
he actually says that in order to produce this balance, the skeptic may
very well need to concentrate on the more counter-intuitive side of an
issue (M 7.443)—and this will very often be the negative side. Here, by
contrast, there is absolutely no reference after the introductory section
to suspension of judgement as the skeptic’s goal, and the sole reference to
that goal is actually preceded by reference to counter-arguments. At the
very least, Sextus may be accused of not being as clear about his inten-
tions as he might have been.
A second point is that there is good reason to think that at some stage
in its history, Pyrrhonism was prepared to endorse negative arguments
of some kind. The clearest case of this is in Sextus’ own Against the
Ethicists, which contains several arguments to the effect that nothing is
by nature good or bad (M 11.68–95). Not only is there absolutely no
indication that we are supposed to suspend judgement about this
conclusion—not even an introductory one such as is offered in M 1–6;
Sextus tells us several times that acceptance of that conclusion—not
suspension of judgement about it—is the route to ataraxia. Speaking
about things that might be considered good or bad, he says that “when
reason has established that none of these things is by nature good or by
nature bad, there will be a release from disturbance and a peaceful life
will await us” (M 11.130); “that there is nothing good or bad by nature” is
something we need to “show” (hupodeixaimen) to the person troubled by
believing the opposite (M 11.140); and the skeptic’s freedom from worry
is something that “will come to him from his thinking nothing good or
bad by nature” (M 11.118).²⁴ A case can be made that the endorsement of
²³ M 7.443, 8.2, 159–60, 298, 476–7, 9.59, 137, 191, 192, 194, 10.168.
²⁴ Concerning these passages, Benjamin Morison says “The way to avoid saddling Sextus
with an inconsistency is to see that Sextus is not suggesting that the Skeptic must believe that
nothing is good or bad by nature, but rather that the Skeptic must have equally convincing
arguments up his sleeve that conclude that nothing is by nature good or bad” (Morison 2014,
section 4.2, his emphasis). I simply fail to see how the text can be read in this way; that the
skeptic (or anyone else who wants to avoid trouble) must believe this is exactly what Sextus
says here. It does not follow that he must be accused of inconsistency; in Bett 1997 I argue
that in Against the Ethicists Sextus is offering a consistent variety of skepticism distinct from
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
negative arguments was much more extensive than this; one can find it in
the evidence for Aenesidemus, and also in the life of Pyrrho by Diogenes
Laertius (9.61–108), much of which summarizes a form of Pyrrhonism
from some time subsequent to Aenesidemus.²⁵ But these issues are
complex and controversial, and it would be too much of a distraction
to embark upon them here. What we can say is that if there was any
phase of Pyrrhonism in which the endorsement of negative conclusions
was considered acceptable—and Sextus’ own Against the Ethicists alone
is enough to make this plausible—then the very strong emphasis on
“counter-argument” in M 1–6 becomes less surprising. We know that
Sextus drew extensively on earlier sources in his writing, often without
making much change to them; this is clear from the many close verbal
parallels between passages of Sextus and of Diogenes Laertius, which
must be drawing on earlier (now lost) Pyrrhonist writings.²⁶ If, as is likely
enough, M 1–6 uses material from such writings, then it would not be a
great surprise if this material included negative arguments that the
original author endorsed, and if Sextus did not do much to adapt this
material to suit the form of Pyrrhonism he officially professes.
And in this case, we do not need to accuse Sextus of negative dogma-
tism in M 1–6.²⁷ As the earlier “easy answer” suggested, we can under-
stand the strongly negative thrust of Sextus’ argumentation as designed
to cancel out the positive cases for the disciplines made by their propon-
ents, resulting in just the suspension of judgement he says he is aiming for.
It may be that, had he been composing this work from scratch, rather than
drawing on earlier sources, he would not have framed these arguments in
what we find in PH. (This does, of course, require us to posit a change of mind, but that is
not the same thing.) Since in Against the Ethicists, as in PH, he calls himself a skeptic and he
speaks of suspension of judgement, I refrain from calling this position negative dogmatism.
But this does mean that some key notions, including suspension of judgement itself, have to
be interpreted in a different way from usual.
²⁵ I have argued this case in Bett 2000, chapter 4; see also Woodruff 1988. Other readings
of Aenesidemus, which put him much closer to the Pyrrhonism of PH, are Schofield 2007
and Hankinson 2010. On Diogenes, see also Vogt 2015.
²⁶ On this see Barnes 1992, esp. section X.
²⁷ In Bett 2006 I concluded that the negative argumentation could not be reconciled
with Sextus’ official purpose in M 1–6. I now think that this went too far, and that, without
giving up the idea of an earlier phase of Pyrrhonism where negative argumentation was
accepted, or the idea that M 1–6 shows traces of that earlier phase, we can give a consistent
account of the work on its own terms. For a little more on Sextus’ mindset in this work, see
Bett 2013, section 2.
INTRODUCTION 
such uncompromisingly negative terms; perhaps they derive from an

earlier phase of Pyrrhonism in which negative arguments of certain
kinds were perfectly acceptable, and so are not ready-made to be clearly
compatible with Sextus’ official outlook. In this case the impression of
negativity has a historical explanation, without our needing to conclude
that Sextus himself means to endorse the conclusions of the negative
arguments. Once again, we may wish that he had reminded us a little
more often (as he does in other works) that suspension of judgement is
the actual goal—or, in other words, if my hypothesis is right, done a little
more to bring his source material into line with his own approach.
Nonetheless, we are at liberty to understand suspension of judgement as
the consistent purpose of the work.
4. Other notable features of M 1–6

As has often been noticed, Sextus’ six subjects are close to the seven
“liberal arts” that formed the standard basic curriculum at medieval
universities: the trivium, consisting of grammar, logic, and rhetoric,
followed by the quadrivium, consisting of arithmetic, geometry, astron-
omy, and music. One obvious difference is the omission of logic, but that
is easily explained by the fact that logic was also one of the three standard
parts of philosophy, and is dealt with at length in the more strictly
philosophical parts of Sextus’ oeuvre—in the two books Against the
Logicians and in book 2 of PH. In his introduction Sextus refers to
these fields as the “cyclical” (egkuklia) disciplines (M 1.7). The phrase
“cyclical education” (egkuklios paideia) is not unusual,²⁸ and we learn
from Seneca (Letter 88.23) that it is the Greek equivalent of the Latin
artes liberales, meaning the fields of study appropriate for “free” people
(i.e. people who do not need to make money). Although Sextus speaks of
the term as well understood (and declines for that reason to tell us
anything about it), the meaning of the term “cyclical” in this context is
in fact not entirely obvious; but one explanation would bring it close to
our notion of a “rounded” education.²⁹ In any case, the phrase seems to
²⁸ E.g. Athenaeus 184b, [Plutarch] On Music 1135d.

²⁹ See Blank, 84–5 for references and an alternative explanation, and, for a somewhat
different perspective, pp. 27–32 of Pellegrin et al.’s Introduction. (For other editions,
translations, or commentaries of/on M 1–6 as a whole or individual books, I use abbreviated
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
refer to a standard group of subjects in which a generally educated

person should have some training. Sextus also suggests that the identity
and number of these are fixed by his time. This may not be entirely
true;³⁰ but Philo of Alexandria (De congressu eruditionis gratia 11–12),
probably more than a century before Sextus, already identifies them as
grammar, geometry, astronomy, rhetoric, and music, which is close to
Sextus’ list. Of course, an early version of the quadrivium can be found as
far back as Plato’s Republic, in the mathematical disciplines that are the
prelude to dialectic in the higher education of the eventual philosopher
rulers, and its origins may be Pythagorean.
Another apparent difference between Sextus’ list of subjects and
those in the quadrivium is that he deals with astrology rather than
astronomy. Now this by itself may not be as significant as it sounds,
since astronomy and astrology were not definitively separated from one
another until the modern period. But the way in which Sextus himself
distinguishes the two opens up some new issues about his approach to
his subjects in this work.
Several times Sextus mentions an everyday, practical counterpart of
the field whose credentials he is attacking, saying that he has nothing
against it. In the case of grammar, he distinguishes between the ordinary
ability to read and write and the theoretical study of the nature of
language engaged in by the grammarians—something that he sarcastic-
ally calls a “deeper power” (M 1.49); his critique is to be directed towards
the latter, not the former.³¹ Similarly, at the opening of the last book he
makes clear that there is nothing wrong with the ability to play musical
instruments; what he is suspicious of is the science (epistêmê) that
purports to analyze music into its basic elements and explain their nature
(M 6.1). This may seem disingenuous, since only the second half of the
book (39–68) deals with music theory of that kind; the first half has to do,
rather, with whether or not music is conducive to happiness, and most of
the time “music” in this context means ordinary playing or singing, not
music theory. But in Sextus’ defense, the material in the first half is
citations; see the List of Abbreviations for the full bibliographical information, and the Note
on the Text and Translation for further details.)
³⁰ The Athenaeus passage (cf. n. 28), among others, suggests some fluidity.
³¹ Though the point is not as prominent, there are at least hints of the same kind of
contrast in the book on rhetoric; ordinary language can do as well as, or often better than,
the highfalutin language the rhetoricians teach (M 2.57–9, 74–7).
INTRODUCTION 
explicitly said to be “more dogmatic” than he would like, and he seems to

be getting it from the Epicureans (M 6.4—I touched on this in Section 3);
he says that he is including it for the sake of completeness (M 6.6), and
although it is not entirely clear why he feels obliged to include material
with which he is not really comfortable, the fact is that it is the second
half of the book with which he fully identifies.³² In addition, one might
say that even in the first half it is not the playing and singing themselves,
or their practitioners, that are put in question, but the overenthusiastic
claims made by others on their behalf.³³
Now, a third case where Sextus contrasts a practical employment of
some subject with an abstruse, theoretical counterpart—with the latter
rather than the former being the object of his critique—is astronomy
versus astrology at the opening of the fifth book. He says that he is not
going to raise any difficulties for astronomy as practiced by Eudoxus,
Hipparchus, and others: “for, like farming and navigation, it is an obser-
vation applied to apparent things, from which it is possible to prophesy
droughts and downpours, plagues, and earthquakes and other changes in
the environment of a similar kind” (M 5.2). By contrast, astrology is cast
as positively pernicious, and this is what he is going to talk about. What is
puzzling about this—and seems to set it apart from the cases of grammar
and music just mentioned—is that the astronomy of experts like Eudoxus
and Hipparchus seems like an excellent example of a theoretical science.
However, what seems to matter to Sextus here is the fact that astronomy
of this kind is “an observation applied to apparent things” (têrêsis . . . epi
phainomenois), whereas astrology’s theoretical structure is pure fantasy
and its alleged observational element—establishing the state of the sky at
the time of a person’s birth—is absolutely unworkable (which is the
central point of his counter-argument). As a fine recent article on Sextus’
approach in this work has rightly emphasized, the apparent is a very
important category for Sextus.³⁴ As Sextus explains in the first book of PH
(1.21–4), the skeptic makes choices and, quite generally, lives life on the
³² I have discussed this further in Bett 2013, section 2.

³³ And even here, both the positive and the negative sides are outlined, so that the entire
passage can be seen as a standard skeptical exercise in suspension of judgement. On the
other hand, in keeping with his tone in the entire work following the introduction (as noted
in Section 3), the explicit methodological remarks in this book focus entirely on counter-
argument, not on the equal strength of opposing arguments.
³⁴ Corti 2015a, from which I have learned a lot, despite a minor reservation noted in n. 36.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
basis of appearances; and it is the dogmatists’ claim to have penetrated to

the real nature of things behind the appearances that arouses Sextus’
greatest suspicion. That astronomy is at least grounded in the appear-
ances, whereas astrology, whatever its pretensions, floats free of them,
thus seems to him a very important point in astronomy’s favor, even if
this requires him to downplay rather radically the aspects of astronomy
that one might think would put it, too, in the objectionably dogmatic
column for him.
Interestingly, no comparable contrasts are mentioned in the books on
geometry and arithmetic, even though one might have thought it would
be just as pertinent to contrast these fields of study with the every-
day, practical use of triangles, squares, etc. in carpentry or indeed “land
measurement” (the etymological origin of the word “geometry”, as Sextus
himself observes at one point—M 1.46), or of numbers in all kinds of
commerce.³⁵ But maybe Sextus thinks we will get the point regardless.³⁶
Be that as it may, these two books seem in another respect rather different
from one another. The third book deals with a broadly Euclidean con-
ception of geometry, whereas the fourth book deals not with Euclidean
number theory, but with a Pythagorean conception of numbers according
to which they are principles of nature. I am not sure that this can be fully
explained, given our ignorance of Sextus’ working habits and the sources
available to him. But one thing that unites these choices of material is
³⁵ He does make a contrast of this kind at the start of his treatment of number in PH
(3.151).
³⁶ Corti 2015a, 142–3 argues that practical counterparts are not mentioned in these two
books because of the nature of the entities examined. The abstract points and lines of
geometry “cannot do any appearing”, nor can the numbers that the Pythagoreans take to
govern the universe; hence there cannot be any practical, observation-based activity using
such objects. It is true that geometrical lines and points are not observable, nor are
Pythagorean-style numbers. But I do not see why this should rule out the measurement
of fields, using rough-and-ready devices that in normal language would be called lines and
points, as a practical counterpart of geometry, or the counting of change, using the numbers
we are taught as children, as a practical counterpart of arithmetic. Why should the entities
dealt with be exactly the same in both the theoretical and the practical cases? Arguably, in
fact, they are not exactly the same in the case of astrology and the approved form of
astronomy; the zodiac signs play no role in astronomy. Arguably, too, the numbers we are
taught as children do not “do any appearing” either, any more than the beings in which the
Pythagoreans believed. Or, if the reply is that numbers do “appear”, in the sense that they
mentally occur to us, well, in that same sense the entities posited by the geometer “appear”
to the geometer. Hence I am not convinced that Corti’s appeal to the importance for Sextus of
observation and appearance, valuable as it is in this context, has quite as much explanatory
power as he accords it.
INTRODUCTION 
that in one way or another, and for whatever reason, each of the
two books assimilates the mathematical subject with which it deals to
physical inquiry.
This is perhaps more obvious in the case of Against the Arithmeticians;
the Pythagoreans considered numbers to be in some sense the principles
of the cosmos, and so in addressing their view of numbers, Sextus is
taking on a position that belongs in cosmology as much as in mathematics.
It is no accident that his treatment of number in Against the Physicists
(M 10.248–309) includes quite a few close parallels with passages in
Against the Arithmeticians.³⁷ But the same is true of Against the Physicists’
treatment of body (M 9.366–439) and passages in Against the Geometers.
And although, as I said, the geometry discussed is generally Euclidean in
style, with a number of definitions that closely track those in Euclid, a good
case can be made that the real target of the book is not Euclid or his
followers, but “geometry as a means of modeling the physical world”, and
that Sextus’ goal here was “ruining the support geometry was intended to
bring to the physical part of dogmatic philosophy”.³⁸ Many of the argu-
ments in this book depend on attempts to conceive geometrical objects in
physical terms. Naturally, the attempts fail, but a pure geometer would be
unconcerned by this. If, however, Sextus is going after geometry as used in
physics, these arguments might seem a good deal more troublesome.
I have drawn attention to Sextus’ acceptance of everyday practical
activities corresponding to several of the disciplines that are the subject
of his scrutiny; and this, as I suggested earlier, is of a piece with his more
general tendency to portray himself as being on the side of common
sense, and against the theoretical abstractions of the dogmatists. Yet
Sextus himself was a doctor, which raises the question what kinds of
discipline the skeptical stance of M 1–6 can countenance; presumably the
answer cannot be “none”.³⁹ However, the opening portion of the first book
might seem to suggest that “none” is indeed the answer, and certainly puts
³⁷ For the details, see the list of parallels between this and other works of Sextus at the
end of the volume.
³⁸ The case is well made in Dye and Vitrac 2009; I quote from the opening abstract in
English.
³⁹ This matter is explored in detail in Bullock 2015. Bullock is a little more accommo-
dating to the notion of a “skeptical science” than I would wish to be, for reasons that
perhaps have more to do with the philosophy of science than with the interpretation of
Sextus. But his basic idea that such a science would have to avoid definite beliefs about the
nature of things seems absolutely right.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
the issue in sharp focus. Following the brief introduction to the whole
work, but before the first discipline, grammar, is considered, there is a
series of arguments for the non-existence of teaching and learning in
general (M 1.9–40). Yet in PH (1.23–4) Sextus himself lists “the teaching
of expertises” (didaskalia technôn)—including, we must assume, the teach-
ing of his own expertise, medicine—as one of the four main categories of
appearances on which the skeptic can rely for choice and action. One
might add that teaching and learning, including of forms of expertise, are
surely an important part of ordinary life as well.
Sextus does not address the question explicitly in M 1–6. But an
answer may be constructed on his behalf, as follows. The kind of teaching
that he will not countenance, and that he would assume to be rampant in
the disciplines he attacks, is the imparting of bodies of theoretical
knowledge. The kind of teaching that he will allow is the inculcation of
abilities, or systematic sets of activities, through supervised practice.
Recall that skepticism itself is called an “ability” in PH 1—that is,
know-how rather than theory or doctrine; and this no doubt affects
how it can or should be taught. Medicine, Sextus’ own expertise, might
seem at least a partial counter-example to this conception of teaching;
surely, one might say, while learning to be a doctor involves acquiring a
great deal of know-how, it also involves coming to understand the inner
workings of the body. But the Empiric school of medicine, to which
Sextus seems to have belonged, rejected precisely this; their form of
medicine was simply a set of routines that have been found effective by
experience—techniques for setting bones, treating wounds, and so on—
with no further account of why those routines worked. And when he
criticizes Empiricism in the puzzling chapter referred to above (PH
1.236–41), it is for negative dogmatism, that is, for asserting that the
inner workings of the body are unknowable; Methodism comes off
better, according to him, because it does confine itself to treatments
guided by appearances and avoids any claims about the underlying
processes, or about whether or not they are knowable. Again, we may
find this conception of medicine hard to accept—or, even if we accept
that Sextus can consistently give this account, we may feel that nothing
like it could be accepted by anyone today. But this is the most natural
way to show how he can both attack the disciplines (and teaching and
learning in general), and also accept the practices of ordinary life and
acquire and pass on his own forms of expertise.
INTRODUCTION 
I close with a brief look at three additional features of M 1–6 that

deserve comment. First, the curious sense of anachronism that I noted in
Sextus’ work as a whole seems to be present in M 1–6 as well. The
practicing orators named in Against the Rhetoricians are all from the fifth
and fourth centuries BCE,⁴⁰ and the latest named figures in the book are
the second-century BCE rhetorical theorists Hermagoras and Athenaeus
(M 2.62) and the late second-century BCE Academics Clitomachus and
Charmadas (M 2.20).⁴¹ None of the many grammarians referred to in
Against the Grammarians can be clearly dated later than the early first
century BCE. Against the Astrologers has no inkling of the sophisticated
defense of astrology mounted by Ptolemy, who was earlier than Sextus, if
the argument on his dating in Section 1 was correct, and contemporary
with him on several other reconstructions; its target, as has been well
said, is “something much more primitive”.⁴² And while Against the
Musicians shows numerous parallels with Philodemus’ On Music,
which is perhaps to be explained by Sextus’ drawing on Philodemus,⁴³
that would still only bring his knowledge of previous thinkers up to the
middle of the first century BCE.
Second, the focus of Sextus’ discussion leans heavily towards the
principles of the subjects dealt with. This is explicitly justified on the
ground that if you do away with the principles of a subject, everything
else in the subject comes down with them (M 1.40); this method is thus
more effective, because more all-encompassing, than a piecemeal atten-
tion to its finer details. But there are several other references to an attack
on principles (e.g. M 3.18, 92, 6.38, 68), and this is borne out by
Sextus’ approach in much of the work. We might think of the principles
of a subject as its fundamental axioms, a set of propositions on which
everything else in the field is grounded; and Sextus’ attack on the method
of hypothesis at the start of Against the Geometers seems to conform to
this expectation.⁴⁴ But what Sextus more often seems to have in mind by
“principles” (archai) are rather the basic entities with which the field is
⁴⁰ Demades (M 2.16), Demosthenes and Aeschines (M 2.40), Corax (M 2.96–9).

⁴¹ I have discussed this, with reference to Sextus’ apparent ignorance of the Second
Sophistic, in Bett 2017.
⁴² Long 1982, p. 186. This article is a valuable survey of arguments for and against
astrology in later antiquity, which nicely puts Sextus’ treatment into context.
⁴³ On this see D. Delattre 2006 and Bett 2013, section 3.
⁴⁴ See especially M 3.1, 4–5, 17 with notes.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
concerned. Thus most of Against the Geometers argues for the non-
existence of lines, points, bodies, etc.; Against the Arithmeticians argues
for the non-existence of numbers; the second half of Against the Musicians
(the part that, as I said, Sextus seems to claim as his own, M 6.38–68)
argues for the non-existence of sound and time, hence of notes and
rhythms; and a substantial portion of Against the Grammarians raises
difficulties concerning the basic building blocks of grammar: letters, syl-
lables, words, and the discourse composed of them (M 1.97–158). This
focus on principles in Sextus is not limited to the present work. The
same justification for it (with the same appeal to similes involving siege
warfare) appears in both of Sextus’ other works (PH 2.84, M 9.1–3). In PH
this is connected with the “outline” character of the work; Sextus wants to
dispatch the dogmatists as expeditiously as possible. But the appearance of
the same point in Skeptical Treatises, which is much more discursive, as
well as in the present work, shows that his liking for it extends beyond this
question of efficiency. One result of this in the present work is that there
is less concentration than one might have expected on the specifics of
the disciplines under discussion. In Against the Musicians, for example,
the arguments against sound and time have nothing to do with music
per se, but appeal to much more general philosophical considerations—
indeed, they are close to material from Against the Logicians and Against
the Physicists.⁴⁵ Sextus briefly summarizes some elements of musical
theory (M 6.39–51), but these are simply forgotten once the counter-
arguments begin. And one learns virtually nothing about the actual
practice of geometry and arithmetic from the books on these subjects;
arguments against the very existence of lines, points, bodies, and numbers
are not likely to cross paths with anything a practicing mathematician
might say, since (as Plato already made clear in the Republic, 510c) a
mathematician takes these things for granted.
Finally, there is the surprising level of indebtedness in this work to
Epicurean material. I have already mentioned that Sextus accuses the
Epicureans of dogmatism when they claim the disciplines are useless,
and yet at times employs arguments from uselessness himself, sometimes
openly appealing to an Epicurean source.⁴⁶ There are also places where
⁴⁵ I have discussed this in more detail in Bett 2013.

⁴⁶ E.g. M 1.277–99. This passage ends by indicating that the preceding material is “said
about this topic by others, and especially by the Epicureans” (M 1.299), and Sextus then
INTRODUCTION 
an Epicurean source is detectable, but where usefulness or its absence is

not at issue. The most obvious cases are near the end of Against the
Geometers; in one place the Epicureans are explicitly cited, and in others
there is direct or indirect reason to infer that Sextus is using Epicurean
source material.⁴⁷ I have drawn attention to Epicurean parallels and pos-
sible Epicurean sources in a number of notes to the translation in several
of the six books.⁴⁸
It emerges, then, that Sextus’ relation to Epicureanism (as revealed
particularly, but perhaps not exclusively, in this work) is somewhat
peculiar. He can hardly avoid labeling it as a form of dogmatism; after
all, it puts forward very definite physical and ethical theories. And yet he
seems to have a kind of sympathy for it that is rather different from his
scathing and dismissive attitudes towards Stoicism or Aristotelianism.⁴⁹
One reason is perhaps that there is what we might call a minimalism to
the Epicurean philosophy, which means that it engages in far fewer
flights of philosophical fancy (as Sextus would no doubt regard them)
than these other philosophies. For the Epicureans, the world does not
hang together in any fundamentally ordered way; it is just a collection of
atoms that happens to have come together as it did—and we ourselves
are just collections of atoms of which the same is true. Of course, that is a
dogmatic claim, but a claim that leads to far fewer additional elaborate
and ambitious doctrines being erected than in the Stoic or Aristotelian
worldviews.⁵⁰ In addition, the dogmatism of Epicureanism, at least in
proceeds to a different line of argument. But the beginning of the passage has no such
qualification; Sextus simply says that having laid out various claims for the usefulness of
grammar, “let us . . . speak against each of them” (M 1.277)—though the Epicurean prov-
enance of what follows is clear. And even at the end, while attributing the arguments to
others, he is no less happy to borrow them for his own purposes; there is none of the stand-
offish attitude that we have seen elsewhere.
⁴⁷ See M 3.98, 100–1, 108 with accompanying notes.
⁴⁸ More extensive documentation (or postulation) of Epicurean sources can be found in
Blank’s commentary for M 1, and the notes of Davidson Greaves and of Pellegrin et al. for
M 6. Davidson Greaves is less useful than it might be because of a peculiar numbering
system, quite different from the usual one for Sextus’ texts. The translator and annotator for
M 6 in Pellegrin et al. is Daniel Delattre, an expert on the fragmentary On Music by the
Epicurean Philodemus; see especially Delattre 2007.
⁴⁹ This is well discussed in Marchand 2013.
⁵⁰ For Epicureanism versus Stoicism, one rough indication of this is a simple page count
of the space given to each in LS. In both volumes, the Stoic portion is about twice as long as
the Epicurean portion.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
physics, is tempered in a certain respect. The Epicureans do not claim to

have pinned down the precise nature of things; in many cases they are
prepared to admit (or even insist that we must allow) multiple possible
explanations of phenomena, not caring which of them is correct.⁵¹ The only
thing that matters is that they all be equally conducive to ataraxia (which
in their view means that they must be consistent with the basic atomic
theory). This is about as close to suspension of judgement as one can get,
within a dogmatic framework. In addition, of course, the goal of ataraxia is
one that the Epicureans share with the Pyrrhonists, even if their route to it
is very different.
As regards the specific theme of the present work, it is perhaps also
relevant that the Epicureans’ lifestyle is also minimalist—a non-accidental
result of ataraxia being their goal (rather than, say, the much more
energetic Aristotelian “activity of soul in keeping with virtue”, Nicoma-
chean Ethics 1098a16–17). If you have decided that you are just a collection
of atoms, and that the most important thing to do is to hold on to that fact
and to the release from trouble that it affords, then a simple life in a
community of like-minded friends, such as Epicurus’ own Garden, makes
very good sense. What does not make such good sense is to cultivate a
range of disciplines that suit one to become a respected member of the
turmoil-filled and anxiety-inducing society outside, as the “liberal arts”
were supposed to do. Besides, some of these disciplines—I am thinking
particularly of geometry—may have been antithetical to Epicurean phys-
ical principles; if reality consists of atoms and void, the geometrical figures
are simply fictions.⁵² Hence it is quite consistent with the Epicurean
philosophy and way of life that they should have had a critical attitude
towards the disciplines. And so, even apart from the (admittedly limited)
philosophical affinity that Sextus may have felt with them, it would be no
surprise if they generated a range of arguments against these disciplines
that Sextus would have found especially useful in his own Against Those
in the Disciplines.
⁵¹ This is a recurring theme in Epicurus’ Letter to Pythocles (DL 10.83–116).

⁵² This is powerfully argued in Netz 2015; one small piece of the evidence is the
Epicurean material at the end of M 3, referred to just above.
Note on the Text

and Translation
The translation follows the text of J. Mau, Sexti Empirici Opera, vol. III
(Leipzig: Teubner, 1961), except where indicated in the notes. When
I follow a different text from Mau, the alternative is generally one
proposed by some other scholar, and this too is detailed in the notes.
Often these textual proposals are given in Mau’s apparatus criticus, but
there are several types of exceptions: I sometimes follow (or consider, but
do not follow) (1) the proposals of other translators, on whom more
below; (2) the proposals of Werner Heintz (cited as “Heintz”—see List of
Abbreviations for bibliographical details); and (3) the proposals of Jerker
Blomqvist and Michelangelo Giusta in articles on the text of Sextus
(Blomqvist 1968 and 1971, Giusta 1962). Diagonal brackets < > inserted
in the translation indicate a lacuna; that is, a gap in the Greek text, where
the sense is incomplete and some words must be missing. If there are no
words within the brackets, this is because, in my judgement, it is too
unclear what is missing; if there are words within them, I have accepted
some scholarly conjecture and translated accordingly. Whether or not a
lacuna is present—and if it is, how to fill it—are of course debatable
questions; sometimes I decline to follow Mau or other scholars who posit
lacunae. All these matters are explained in the notes. I do not mark the
lacunae posited by Mau if his supplements to the Greek seem clearly
acceptable, unless they raise some point worth noting.
Centered headings in bold type in the translation are chapter titles in the
manuscripts, which are generally thought to derive from Sextus himself.¹
¹ These appear only in books 1 and 6. Both in this and in Sextus’ other works, the use
of these titles is somewhat haphazard and inconsistent. For this reason my Outline of
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Other headings follow the schema in my Outline of Argument, immedi-

ately preceding the translation. The numbers in square brackets [] inserted
in the translation are the long-established section numbers that are stand-
ard in editions of Sextus. In the notes, cross-references to other passages in
this work use section numbers alone if the reference is to another passage
in the same book, book and section numbers if the reference is to another
book: e.g. [47] or 2.47. References to other works of Sextus follow the
standard abbreviations as explained in the Introduction: PH or M (7–11),
followed by book and section number. References to the works of other
ancient authors follow the usual scholarly conventions (but avoid abbre-
viated names and titles), in some cases citing standard editions of a text; in
the case of ancient grammarians, technical authors in other fields, and
scholia I have generally followed the numbering system in TLG, which is
sometimes not the only one in use.
Like many translators today, I translate Greek terms that are import-
ant to Sextus’ message as much as possible by the same English terms
throughout. In some cases I have explained these choices in the notes; the
notes also sometimes explain instances where I have felt the need to
deviate from a standard translation of some term. In addition, a list of
important Greek terms and my English renderings of them appear in the
Glossary. In my earlier translations of Against the Logicians and Against
the Physicists, similar glossaries indicated where my translations diverged
from those of the most widely used English translation of PH, that of
Julia Annas and Jonathan Barnes.² However, since M 1–6 has much less
overlap in subject matter with PH than do those other books, I have not
continued that practice here.
As in my other translations of the works of Sextus, I have followed a
policy of transliterating Greek whenever possible. In the case of the first
book of this work, Against the Grammarians, which deals with a great
many details concerning the Greek language itself, it has not always been
possible. A translation should obviously be intelligible to someone who
does not know the original language. However, in some parts of Against
the Grammarians, any reader who wishes to understand the specifics
of what Sextus is saying will have to be prepared to learn the Greek
Argument proceeds independently of them, despite the duplication that this causes in
some places.
² Annas and Barnes 1994/2000.
NOTE ON THE TEXT AND TRANSLATION 
alphabet, as well as some other points about the language. I have done
my best to explain the latter in the notes wherever needed, but it must be
admitted that these passages will sometimes be heavy going for non-
classicists. On the other hand, even when linguistic matters are at issue,
I have transliterated if Sextus’ point does not depend on something
specifically to do with the Greek alphabet. The other five books do not
present a similar linguistic problem. But here too, there are often points
about the ancient disciplines Sextus is discussing that contemporary
readers not versed in ancient Greek culture (and even many who are)
could not possibly be expected to know. Again I have used the notes to
make matters as easily intelligible as possible. I must confess that the
number and size of the notes are considerably greater than I anticipated
when I started this project; but if ready comprehension is the goal, I think
their extent is justified.
Another reason for the relatively voluminous notes is that although in
recent decades Sextus Empiricus has attracted considerable scholarly and
philosophical interest, M 1–6 remains far less studied than his other two
works. I think it is worth trying to change this state of affairs, and in the
notes I have both attempted to contribute to the scholarship on it myself
and drawn attention to existing scholarship;³ if this helps to shine a
greater light on Against Those in the Disciplines, I shall be well pleased.
Among the scholars who have not neglected the work are, of course,
its previous translators and commentators. I have learned a lot from
them, and this debt is recorded many times in the notes. The only other
currently available (or, as far as I know, ever completed⁴) full translation
of the work into English is the 1949 translation of R.G. Bury. Like his
other Sextus translations (he did the entire corpus in the Loeb series),
this is both a little archaic to the contemporary ear and sometimes
insensitive to philosophical nuance. Nonetheless, I have often benefited
from it in seeing how to parse a sentence or capture an idiom. In cases
where Sextus’ meaning was either unclear or difficult to reproduce,
³ For those who can read French, J. Delattre 2006 is a useful volume; I have elsewhere
cited a couple of essays from it, but not the volume as a whole. Another volume I have not
found a place to mention in the notes is Magrin 2003 (in Italian), which examines Sextus’
reliance on the appearances, but with a particular focus on Against the Grammarians and
Against the Rhetoricians.
⁴ Floridi 2002, which includes a seemingly exhaustive list of translations of Sextus,
mentions no other English translation of M 1–6.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
I have also profited from the complete French translation, under the
general editorship of Pierre Pellegrin but with several translators (cited as
“Pellegrin et al.”); from the complete German translation of Fritz Jürß;
occasionally from the complete 1718 Latin translation of Johann Albert
Fabricius, itself a revised version of the 1569 translation by Gentianus
Hervetus; and from the Italian translation of Against the Astrologers by
Emidio Spinelli, and the English translation of Against the Musicians by
Denise Davidson Greaves.⁵ All these scholars add notes, comments, etc.
in varying amounts to their translations, and I have also made grateful
use of these, both as guides to translation and in my own notes. These
previous translations and commentaries are listed with full bibliograph-
ical details in the List of Abbreviations, and are cited in the notes by
simple last name.
I have left to the end one other translation and commentary (listed
and cited in the same fashion) that deserves special mention: David
Blank’s 1998 translation, with introduction and commentary, of Against
the Grammarians, in the Clarendon Later Ancient Philosophers series.
I was for some time convinced that the presence of this fine translation,
not to mention the very full and authoritative commentary, meant
that there was simply no place for a new English translation of this
book (at least for another generation or two). At one point I was actually
considering doing a translation of just books 2–6, so as not to enter
the territory covered by Blank. But that would have been a ridiculous
undertaking, given that the six books undoubtedly belong together
and that the beginning of book 1 clearly serves as an introduction to
the whole work. And so I was eventually persuaded that a translation of
the whole work (most of which does not have an up-to-date English
translation) was worth embarking on⁶—for an audience that, it might be
hoped, would be less specialized than Blank’s. Nonetheless, I have felt the
shadow of Blank throughout my work on the first book (in a good way,
let me add). The point about learning from other translations applies
⁵ Also to be mentioned here is the English translation of Against the Arithmeticians by

Lorenzo Corti. As of the time of writing, this is still a work in progress. I am grateful to
Lorenzo Corti for allowing me to see parts of his translation and commentary prior to
publication, and for fruitful discussions of Against the Arithmeticians.
⁶ Thanks are due to Charles Brittain for pushing me in this direction (though he may not
remember doing so).
NOTE ON THE TEXT AND TRANSLATION 
especially to his. This may not always be readily apparent, since our
translating styles are not the same; but his pointers to Sextus’ meaning
have served me well in more cases than I could count. At the same time,
my debt to his commentary will be obvious on virtually every page of my
notes on the first book.
Outline of Argument
Against Those in the Disciplines

Book 1
A. Introduction to the entire work (1–8)
B. General arguments against the disciplines (9–40)
1. Introduction (9)
2. Arguments against anything being taught (10–30)
3. Arguments against there being teachers or learners (31–5)
4. Arguments against the means of learning (36–8)
5. Transition to treatment of specific disciplines (39–40)
C. Against the Grammarians (41–320)
1. Introduction; distinction between basic literacy and technical
grammar, and approval of the former (41–56)
2. Scrutiny of prevailing conceptions of grammar (57–90)
a. Dionysius of Thrace’s definition (57–60)
b. Initial objections to the definition (60–5)
c. A more serious objection: hazards in the phrase “for the
most part” (65–72)
d. Asclepiades’ definition, and how it fares no better (72–5)
e. Chaeris’ definition, and its merits and defects (76–83)
f. Definition of Demetrios and others, and how it fails like the
others (84–9)
g. Transition from the conception of grammar to its content (90)
3. Distinction among three main parts of grammar: expert, his-
torical, and special (91–6)
4. The expert part of grammar (97–247)
a. Introduction (97–9)
b. The elements of grammar, and problems with them (99–120)
c. Syllables, and problems with them (121–30)
OUTLINE OF ARGUMENT 
d. General problems with the parts of discourse (131–41)

e. Names: problems concerning their gender and number
(142–54)
f. Discourse: problems with its being either corporeal or incor-
poreal (154–8)
g. Problems in how to partition discourse (159–68)
h. Correct writing: overview and two doubts (169–75)
i. Good Greek: ordinary usage versus analogy (176–9)
j. Good Greek: usage to be preferred to the expertise involving
analogy (180–96)
k. Good Greek: further unwelcome consequences of the gram-
marians’ claims (196–208)
l. Good Greek: difficulties in the definitions of barbarism and
solecism (209–16)
m. Good Greek: further difficulties with analogy or “transition in
virtue of similarity” (216–20)
n. Good Greek: difficulties in the purported universality of the
grammarians’ claims (221–7)
o. Good Greek: an attempted response from the grammarians,
and its failure (227–40)
p. Good Greek: etymology as a criterion, and its failure (241–7)
5. The historical part of grammar (248–69)
a. The status of the historical part within grammar, and its
sub-parts (248–53)
b. The randomness of the historical part’s material, and the
unsuitability of expertise to address it (253–62)
c. The falsehood of most of the historical part’s material, and
the uncertain status of the rest—which again disqualify it
as a subject for expertise (263–8)
d. Conclusion (268–9)
6. The special part of grammar (270–320)
a. The case for the value of poetry, and of grammar as its
interpreter (270–6)
b. Arguments on the other side (277–95)
c. The superiority of prose writers over poets in this respect
(296–8)
d. The objects treated in poetry better addressed by other exper-
tises than by grammar (299–312)
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
e. The lack of an expertise for reliably comprehending words

(313–17)
f. Final thoughts on the worthlessness of this part of grammar
(318–20)
7. Transition to Against the Rhetoricians (320)
Book 2: Against the Rhetoricians

1. Three definitions of rhetoric (1–9)
2. Problems with rhetoric’s status as an expertise (10–47)
a. Expertises do not deal in falsehoods, as rhetoric does (10–12)
b. Expertises reliably achieve their ends, as rhetoric does not
(13–15)
c. Those without training in rhetoric can be at least as effective in
oratory as those with it, which counts against rhetoric being an
expertise (16–19)
d. Cities have evicted rhetoricians, which they would not do if
rhetoric were an expertise (20–5)
e. Expertises are useful to their possessors or to cities, as rhetoric is
not (26–42)
f. An attempted response based on a distinction between two
kinds of rhetoric, and its failure (43–7)
3. Problems stemming from rhetoric’s subject matter (48–59)
a. A cluster of varied objections (48–51)
b. Rhetoric fails in its aim of constructing fine speech (52–9)
4. Problems stemming from rhetoric’s end (60–88)
a. Persuasion as the agreed end of rhetoric (60–2)
b. The elusiveness of a determinate and manageable scope for an
expertise of “the persuasive” (63–71)
c. Rhetoric’s lack of a monopoly on persuasion, and lack of success
compared with ordinary speech (72–8)
d. Alternative possible ends for rhetoric, and arguments against
them (78–87)
e. Interim conclusion (88)
5. Problems concerning the parts of rhetoric (89–105)
a. The three parts of rhetoric, and the incompatibility of their ends
(89–92)
b. Arguments against the just as the aim of the judicial part (93–9)
OUTLINE OF ARGUMENT 
c. Suggestion that the other two parts are vulnerable to analogous

arguments (100)
d. The lack of any systematic procedure in the laudatory part (101–5)
6. Arguments for the non-existence of demonstration (106–12)
7. Transition to Against the Geometers (113)
Book 3: Against the Geometers

1. Hypothesis in geometry (1–17)
a. Three senses of “hypothesis”, and proposal to concentrate on
the geometrical sense (1–6)
b. Difficulties with hypothesis so understood (7–17)
2. Transition to focus on the principles of geometry; the objects to be
discussed, and in what order (17–21)
3. The point, and its inconceivability (22–8)
4. The line (29–59)
a. The impossibility of generating a line out of points (29–36)
b. The inconceivability of the line as a “breadthless length” (37–50)
c. The geometers’ appeal to “intensification”, and its failure (51–6)
d. Aristotle’s rescue attempt, and its failure (57–9)
5. Problems in conceiving of a surface, based in large part on the
previous conception of the line (60–4)
6. Further difficulties stemming from the geometers’ own theories
(65–91)
a. Incompatibility of their claim that “the straight line describes
circles with all its parts when rotated” and their conception of
the line as a “breadthless length” (65–73)
b. Similar arguments using other geometrical figures (74–6)
c. Problems in making sense of surfaces and bodies if the line is a
“breadthless length” (77–82)
d. Problems in conceiving of body as “what has the three dimen-
sions” (83–91)
7. Transition from principles to the things that supposedly follow
from them (92–3)
8. Interim project of addressing “lower-level principles” (94–107)
a. Problems with the straight line (94–9)
b. Problems with the angle (100–6)
c. The hopelessness of the circle, given the foregoing arguments
(106–7)
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
9. The promised focus on “the theories that come after their prin-
ciples” (108–16)
a. Recalling of previously announced plan (108)
b. Problems in bisecting a straight line (109–11)
c. Problems in cutting a circle into equal parts (112–15)
d. Final problems concerning subtraction (116)
Book 4: Against the Arithmeticians

1. Transition from Against the Geometers (1)
2. Pythagorean account of numbers and their importance (2–9)
3. Transition to counter-argument, to be centered around the unit (10)
4. Platonic conception of the one and the things that participate in it
(11–13)
5. Arguments against this picture (14–20)
6. Further arguments, inspired by Plato, against the dyad (20–2)
7. Arguments against subtraction and addition, both essential to
arithmetic (23–33)
8. Conclusion to this book and to Against the Geometers, and transi-
tion to Against the Astrologers (34)
Book 5: Against the Astrologers

1. Introduction (1–3)
2. Outline of astrological method (4–42)
a. Initial classification of zodiac signs (4–11)
b. Further details on their interrelations and influence (12–22)
c. Method of dividing the zodiac circle (22–6)
d. Method of establishing the ascendant at a person’s birth (26–8)
e. Influence of the “stars” (i.e. planets, sun, and moon) in various
positions (29–40)
f. Two different types of astrological predictions (41–2)
3. Some counter-arguments by others (43–8)
4. The Pyrrhonists’ own counter-arguments (49–105)
a. Introduction: three possible sources of error in setting the
ascendant (49–55)
b. Difficulties in establishing the time of birth (55–67)
c. Difficulties in synchronizing time of birth and observation of
the sky (67–72)
OUTLINE OF ARGUMENT 
d. Difficulties in the observations themselves (73–85)

e. A further difficulty: most birth times are recorded in a rough-
and-ready, inexpert manner (85–7)
f. Roughly equivalent birth times are obviously of no predictive
value (88–9)
g. Conversely, different birth times do not spare people from
similar fates (90–3)
h. Challenge to extend astrology to animals, leading back to the
problem raised in section (f) (94–5)
i. Problems in correlating personality and other traits with zodiac
signs (95–102)
j. A reliable astrology would require observation over impossibly
long time-periods (103–5)
5. Transition to Against the Musicians (106)
Book 6: Against the Musicians

1. Introduction: specification of what is to be attacked and in what
ways (1–6)
2. Whether music has good effects on character and mood (7–37)
a. Arguments for an affirmative answer (7–18)
b. Counter-arguments in response to these (19–28)
c. An additional, disjunctive argument against music’s value (29–37)
3. Attack on the principles of music (37–67)
b. What sound is; different types of sound (39–41)
c. What a note is; how notes relate to one another (42–4)
d. Intervals and scales (44–51)
e. Arguments against the existence of sound (52–8)
f. Rhythm and its dependence on time (59–61)
g. Arguments against the existence of time (61–7)
4. Conclusion (68)
Sextus Empiricus: Against

Those in the Disciplines
Book 1
A. Introduction to the entire work (1–8)

[1] The counter-argument against those in the disciplines seems to have
been wielded quite generally by both the Epicureans and the Pyrrhonists,
though their attitudes were not the same. The Epicureans proceeded on
the basis that the disciplines contribute nothing to the achievement of
wisdom—or, as some speculate, thinking that this was a cover for their
own lack of education (for Epicurus is guilty of being without learning in
many things; even in ordinary conversation his usage is impure), [2] and
perhaps also because of hostility towards Plato, Aristotle, and the like,
who had extensive learning. It was also probably because of their hatred
of Nausiphanes, Pyrrho’s pupil; for he had a grip on many young men
and paid serious attention to the disciplines, especially rhetoric. [3] So
Epicurus, despite having been his student, went to all lengths to deny it,
so as to seem to be a self-taught philosopher who developed on his own,
and strove to wipe out all talk of him, and became a major critic of the
disciplines on which Nausiphanes used to pride himself. [4] At any rate
he says in his letter to the philosophers at Mytilene, “I think the loud-
mouths will suppose that I am a student of the jellyfish, having listened to
him alongside some kids with hangovers”; here he calls Nausiphanes
“jellyfish”, standing for his lack of perception.¹ And again further on,
having said a lot of things against the man, he suggests how advanced he
was in the disciplines when he says “He was really a lousy human being;
he pursued the kind of things by which it is not possible to get to
wisdom”—a surreptitious reference to the disciplines. [5] Well, this is
¹ The jellyfish as an example of a creature with little or no cognitive functioning seems

to derive from Plato, Philebus 21c4–8. Interestingly, as Blank (79) points out, the Platonic
context is the lack of awareness of one’s own present or future pleasures; since the highest
good for Epicurus was pleasure, understood in a very specific way, the point here may be to
draw an unflattering contrast between Nausiphanes’ conception of pleasure and his own.
On the “loudmouths” and the “kids with hangovers”, see Blank 78–9.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
more or less where Epicurus was coming from, to hazard a guess, when
he saw fit to make war on the disciplines. But the Pyrrhonists did so not
because they contribute nothing to wisdom—for that is a dogmatic
statement—nor because of being characterized by lack of education; for
besides being educated and having wider experience than the other
philosophers, they are also indifferent to the opinion of the mob. [6]
Not that this is due to hostility towards anyone (a vice of that sort is far
from their gentleness); but the same sort of thing happened to them in
the case of the disciplines as it did in the case of philosophy² as a
whole. For just as they went after it with a longing to attain the truth,
but after encountering conflict of equal strength and lack of uniformity
in the objects they suspended judgement, so too in the case of the
disciplines they set out to pick them up, here too seeking to learn the
truth, but on discovering equal impasses they did not conceal them. [7]
For this reason we too will pursue the same method as them and will
try without contentiousness to select and set out the effective³ things
said against them.⁴
As for teaching how the “cyclical” disciplines came to be so called,
and how many they are in number, I consider this superfluous, seeing
that our teaching is <directed to>⁵ those who are already adequately
informed about these things.⁶ [8] What is necessary in the present case
is to indicate that of the things said against the disciplines, some are said
generally against all the disciplines, others against each by themselves.
More general is the point about there not being any discipline; more
specific is the one against the grammarians, for example, about the
² Reading philosophias instead of Mau’s sophias (“wisdom”); the manuscripts are divided
on this.
³ Several times in this work, in introducing or closing a whole line of argument, Sextus
speaks of conducting or having conducted an “effective” (pragmatikos) argument; cf. 5.106,
6.38, 68. It seems to mean an argument that gets to the heart of the matters (the pragmata)
under discussion; in both the passages of book 6 it is associated with the undermining of the
principles of the discipline under investigation. The word is not confined to this context
(cf. 1.43, 63, 2.28) but it seems to have a certain programmatic significance for Sextus.
Interestingly, with one exception (PH 3.13), Sextus uses it only in this work. See Bett 2006,
together with the record of discussion at pp. 135–7 in the same volume.
⁴ i.e. against the disciplines (mathêmata).
⁵ Reading <pros> (with Bekker) or <pros tous> (with Giusta 1962, 429) before hikanên.
⁶ On Sextus’ reference to the “cyclical” (egkuklia) disciplines, see the Introduction,
opening paragraph of Section 4.
BOOK : GENERAL ARGUMENTS AGAINST THE DISCIPLINES 
elements of speech, against the geometers about the need not to accept
starting points by hypothesis, or against the musicians about sound and
time being nothing. In order, let us first look at the more general counter-
argument.
B. General arguments against

the disciplines (9–40)
1. Introduction (9)
Whether there is a discipline
[9] Judging the dispute that has occurred among philosophers about
learning, which is extensive and many-sided, is not for the present
occasion. It is enough to establish that if there is any discipline and this
is humanly attainable, four things have to be agreed on beforehand: the
matter being taught, the teacher, the learner, and the means of learning.
But there is neither the thing being taught, nor the teacher, nor the
learner, nor the means of learning, as we will indicate; therefore there is
not any discipline.
2. Arguments against anything being taught (10–30)

About the thing being taught
[10] Well then, speaking first about the first, we say that if anything is
taught, either what-is is taught by being or what-is-not by not being.⁷ But
neither is what-is taught by being, nor what-is-not by not being, as we
will establish; therefore nothing is taught. Now, what-is-not could not be
taught by not being; for if it is taught, it is a teachable thing, and in its
standing as a teachable thing it will become one of the things that there
are, [11] and for this reason it will be both a non-being and a being; but it
is not possible for the same thing to be both a being and a non-being;
therefore what-is-not is not taught by not being. Besides, what-is-not has
no attributes, and what has no attributes does not even have the attribute
⁷ In this paragraph I hyphenate the noun phrases “what is” (to on) and “what is not” (to
mê on), which appear many times as the subjects of sentences; the syntax might otherwise
be difficult to parse in some places.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
of being taught; for being taught is also one of the attributes; so in this
way, too, what-is-not is not teachable. [12] Then again, what is taught
comes to be learned by us by setting in motion an appearance, but what-
is-not, being unable to set in motion an appearance, is not teachable
either. In addition, neither is what-is-not <teachable>⁸ as true. For neither
does what is true belong among the things that are not, nor is anything
true teachable as a non-being. But if nothing true is teachable as a non-
being⁹ (for what is true is among the things that there are), what-is-not
is not teachable.¹⁰ [13] But if nothing true is taught, everything that
is taught is false—which is most unreasonable. What-is-not, then, is
not taught. For what is taught is either false or true. But false is most
unreasonable, while what is true is a being. Therefore what-is-not is not
teachable. [14] Then again, nor is what-is teachable by being, since all
of the things that there are, being apparent to everyone, will be equally
teachable.¹¹ From which it follows that nothing is teachable; for there
⁸ Adding <didakton> with Bekker and all other modern translations.

⁹ I read ei de mêden alêthes hôs mê on didakton esti instead of Mau’s ei de kai mêden
alêthes, eiper didakton esti. Mau follows a manuscript that he labels N, which is older than
all the other manuscripts but discovered more recently. But “older” does not always mean
“better”, and in this passage the text of N is severely defective; to get intelligible Greek and
any semblance of coherent argument, one is forced to delete and/or add several words or
phrases. Surprisingly, Mau himself admits this in his preface (X), where a quite different
reconstruction of this passage is offered. For other attempts to clean up the text using N
as the starting point, see Blank, 5, 89–90, Giusta 1962, 427, Jürß, 35, 84–5. The other
manuscripts besides N do not yield a perfectly lucid train of thought, but they are at least
syntactically unproblematic; I translate their text, following Bekker (who was not aware of
N) and Bury, and suppose that some person or persons involved in the production of
N attempted to clean up the argument but only made things worse. A much clearer and
more concise argument along similar lines can be found at M 11.221 (which is part of a
longer passage covering essentially the same ground as M 1.9–40).
¹⁰ I omit the additional words (presented by Mau as a separate sentence) mêd’alêthes
didasketai, present in N but not in the other mss. (see n. 9). Heintz, unaware of N, adds at
this point eiper de didakton esti to mê on, ouden alêthes didasketai, “but if what-is-not is
teachable, nothing true is taught”, in order to create a clearer connection with the next
sentence. But the idea that nothing true is taught (within the supposition that the thing
taught is what-is-not) is already foreshadowed in the previous few sentences, so this seems
unnecessary.
¹¹ The manuscripts uniformly read adidakta, “unteachable”, at this point; didakta,
“teachable”, is an emendation of Harder adopted by Mau. One could certainly make
sense of “unteachable” by way of the idea that in the case of things that are “apparent to
everyone”, there is no room for teaching. (The notion that beings are, as such, “apparent
to everyone”, is implausible and unsupported; but see Diogenes Laertius 9.100 for the same
thought in a compressed version of the very same argument. Blank’s proposal to remove it
from the text (5–6, 91–3) goes far out on a limb.) However, it would be extremely difficult
BOOK : GENERAL ARGUMENTS AGAINST THE DISCIPLINES 
needs to be something there that is untaught,¹² in order for the learning

of this to come about from what is known. Neither, then, is what-is
taught by being.
[15] The same mode of impasse will also come about against those
who will say that what is not-something or something is taught.¹³ For if
what is not-something is taught, in so far as it is taught it will be
something, and for this reason the same thing will be opposites—not-
something and something—which is impossible. And the not-something
has no attributes—hence not being taught, either; for this too is an
attribute. [16] The not-something, then, is not taught. But by analogous
reasoning,¹⁴ the something will also join the unteachables; for if it is
teachable for this reason, that it is <something>,¹⁵ nothing will be
unteachable, from which it follows that nothing is teachable. [17] Then
again, if the something is taught, either it will be taught through
not-somethings or through somethings. But it is not possible for it to
to connect this sentence, so understood, with the thought in the next sentence, that
teaching is impossible because it would need a collaboration between the untaught and
the already known. With “teachable”, however, this is easy; if everything is taught just by
being encountered, the idea of using what is known to elucidate (or teach) what is yet to
be taught will indeed have no purchase. In addition, the next paragraph (which Sextus
says proceeds along the same lines as the present one) contains the same juxtaposition
“everything is teachable, therefore nothing is teachable” (end of 16); this would be
mysterious without the present argument a few lines earlier, which requires the reading
“teachable” rather than “unteachable”. I therefore stick with Mau’s text; that an early
scribe, through inattention or incomprehension, should have changed didakta to adidakta
is not hard to imagine.
¹² Everywhere else in this passage I have translated (a)didakton by “(un)teachable”;
“(un)taught” is in principle equally possible (there is a systematic ambiguity of this kind
with Greek adjectives ending -tos), but the context seems to make the former preferable.
Here, however, “unteachable” will not work, because the object in question is supposed to
be a candidate for subsequent teaching; the point is that this thing is not yet taught. This is
particularly obvious given “of this” in the next clause; but even if we delete it, as proposed by
Blank and Pellegrin et al., the point still seems to be that the thing currently untaught will, in
combination with things that are known, come to be taught. For (a)didakton as “(un)
taught”, see also, e.g., [18] (end), [36].
¹³ In Stoic ontology only bodies “are” (esti) or “exist” (huparchei); but the Stoics also
recognize various species of incorporeals, which are instead said to “subsist” (huphis-
tasthai); cf. [20], [28] with notes. Their general term encompassing both bodies and
incorporeals is tina, “somethings”. However, even “somethings” did not include everything
that the Stoics wanted to talk about in their philosophy; universals were not so included,
and were known as “not-somethings” (outina). Basic orientation on this subject can be
found in LS sections 27 and 30; an excellent recent analysis, taking account of other
scholarship, is Bailey 2014.
¹⁴ Literally, “by the same analogy”. ¹⁵ Following Heintz I add <ti> after hoti.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
be taught through not-somethings; for these are not subsistent for thought,
according to the Stoics. It remains, then, that learning occurs through
somethings. [18] Which is again intractable; for just as what is taught is
itself taught in virtue of this, that it is something, so, since the things
from which there is learning are also somethings, everything will become
teachable. And in this way, since nothing is untaught, learning is done
away with.
[19] Besides, since of the somethings some are bodies and some
are incorporeal, the things being taught, being somethings, will have
to be either bodies or incorporeals; but neither bodies nor incorpor-
eals can exist, as we will establish; therefore there are not somethings
that are taught.
About body
[20] Well then, body could not be something teachable—especially
according to the Stoics; for things that are taught have to be sayables,¹⁶
but bodies are not sayables and for this reason are not taught. But if
bodies are neither perceptible nor intelligible, it is clear that they will not
turn out to be teachable either. They are not perceptible, as is obvious
from the conception of them. [21] For if body is a coming together
through aggregation of size and shape and resistance, as Epicurus says,
or what has three dimensions, that is, length, breadth, and depth, as
the mathematicians say, or what has three dimensions with resistance
(Epicurus again, to distinguish it in this way from void), or resistant
mass, as others say—[22] however it may be, since it is conceived in
terms of a coming together of many specific properties, and the com-
bination of many things is not the job of any simple, non-rational sense,
but of rational thought, body will not be among perceptible things. [23]
Again,¹⁷ even if we suppose that it is perceptible, it is again unteachable.
For the perceptible, in so far as it is perceptible, is not taught; for no
one learns to see white, or to taste sweet, or to touch heat, or to smell
fragrance—these are untaught things, belonging to us naturally. [24] It
¹⁶ “Sayable” (lekton) is a Stoic technical term, referring to the content of linguistic

utterances. The Stoics held that sayables were one of four species of incorporeals, the others
being place, time, and void (cf. [28]). For an overview of sayables, see LS section 33.
¹⁷ With Blomqvist 1968, 74 I retain palin, deleted by Mau following Bekker, and delete
an additional palin near the start of the following sentence.
BOOK : GENERAL ARGUMENTS AGAINST THE DISCIPLINES 
remains, then, to say that body is intelligible and teachable in this way.
Let’s look at how this might be true. If body is neither length specifically,
nor breadth nor depth, but what is conceived out of all of them,
then since they are all incorporeal, we are bound to conceive of what
is composed out of them as incorporeal and not as body, and for this
reason also as unteachable. [25] Add to this that the person who conceives
the body composed out of them ought first to conceive these things
themselves, in order for the former, too, to be possible to conceive.¹⁸ For
he will conceive them either by experience or by way of transition from
experience. But not by experience; for they are incorporeals, and we don’t
apprehend incorporeals by experience, since sensory apprehension
always occurs in virtue of touch. Then again, not by way of transition
from experience either; one doesn’t have anything perceptible from
which one can transfer and create a conception of these things. So, not
even being able to conceive the components of body, we will definitely
not have the power to teach body.
[26] But we have dealt more precisely with the concept and subsist-
ence of body in our Skeptical Treatises;¹⁹ let us now step back from those
refutations and say that at the highest level there is a twofold distinction
among bodies: some of them are perceptible, others intelligible. And if
what is taught is a body, it is definitely either intelligible or perceptible.
[27] But it cannot be either perceptible, because in that case it ought to be
equally apparent to everyone and be clear, or intelligible, because it is
unclear and this very thing is a matter of undecidable dispute among all
the philosophers, some saying that it is indivisible, others divisible, and
of those who say that it is divisible, some maintaining that it is divided to
infinity, others that it terminates at something minimal and partless.
Therefore body is not teachable.
[28] Then again, nor is the incorporeal. For whatever kind of incor-
poreal someone says is taught, whether it is the Platonic Form, or the
Stoics’ sayable, or place or void or time or any other such thing (and let’s
¹⁸ A sentence along the lines of “but he cannot conceive these” may have dropped out at
this point. At any rate that is the thought behind the next sentence.
¹⁹ M 9.359ff. Skeptical Treatises (Skeptika Hupomnêmata) is Sextus’ name for the work
of which Against the Logicians, Physicists, and Ethicists are the surviving portions. See
Introduction, Section 1, and cf. [29], 2.106, 6.52.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
not say anything rash about their subsistence,²⁰ or get into one extended
inquiry after another establishing the non-subsistence of each one), every
one is clearly in question, and will be so among the dogmatists “As long
as water flows and tall trees flourish”,²¹ some affirming that there are
these things, some that there are not, and some suspending judgement.
And to say that matters still in litigation and up in the air in a position
of controversy are taught, as if they were harmoniously agreed on, is
something absurd.
[29] If, then, of the things that there are, some are bodies and others
incorporeals, and it has been shown that neither of these are taught,
nothing is taught.
This is also a way to attack: if anything is taught, it is either true
or false. But neither is something false teachable, as is self-evident,
nor something true; for the true is intractable, as has been shown in
our Skeptical Treatises,²² and of intractable things there is no learning.
[30] Therefore what is taught is nothing. And in general, if anything is
taught, it is either expert or non-expert. And if it is non-expert, it is not
teachable. But let’s say it is expert: if it is immediately apparent it is
neither expert nor teachable, but if it is unclear it is again unteachable
because of being unclear.²³
Along with this the teacher is also done away with, because of not
having anything to teach, and the learner, because of not having anything
to learn. All the same, we will go on and raise impasses about each of
these individually.
3. Arguments against there being teachers or learners (31–5)

About the teacher and learner
[31] If there is any of these, either the non-expert will teach the similarly
non-expert or the expert the similarly expert or the non-expert the expert
or vice versa. But neither can the non-expert teach the non-expert, just as
²⁰ Sextus is being careful here; as noted earlier on [15], the Stoics spoke of the incorpor-
eals not as existing (einai, huparchein) but as subsisting (huphistasthai).
²¹ The second line of an epitaph for Midas (see Plato, Phaedrus 264d); Sextus quotes
the same line at PH 2.37 and M 8.184, again in the context of interminable disputes among
dogmatists.
²² Cf. [26] with note, and see M 8.1–140 for this topic in the work referred to.
²³ I follow Blank in rejecting Heintz’s addition <ouk ara esti ti to didaskomenon>,
accepted by Mau.
BOOK : GENERAL ARGUMENTS AGAINST THE DISCIPLINES 
the blind cannot lead the blind, nor can the expert teach the similarly
expert; for neither of them is in want of learning, and the one has no
more need of the other for learning than the other from the first, since
they are doing equally well. [32] Nor can the non-expert teach the expert;
one might as well say that the sighted is led by the blind. Indeed, the non-
expert, being blind concerning matters of theory that require expertise,
would not be able to teach what he fundamentally doesn’t know, and the
person with expertise, who has a clear view in expert matters of theory
and has obtained knowledge of them, will not be in want of someone to
teach him. [33] It remains, then, to say that the person with expertise is
teacher of the non-expert, which is even more absurd than the things
before. For in our skeptical place we have put the person with expertise
into an impasse along with theoretical matters of expertise;²⁴ and the
non-expert can neither become a person with expertise when he is non-
expert, nor, when he is a person with expertise, is he still becoming a
person with expertise—he is one. [34] For being non-expert he is like the
person blind or deaf from birth, and in the same way as this person’s
nature never allows him to come to a conception of colors or sounds, so
too the non-expert, in so far as he is non-expert, is blind and deaf as
regards expert matters of theory and is not able to see or hear any of
them; but if he has become a person with expertise he is no longer being
taught but has been taught.
[35] We already handled questions of change and effect, coming into
being and perishing in the counter-arguments against the physicists,²⁵
and we can bring over the impasses from there. But for now let us allow
to those in the disciplines that there is such a thing as the object being
taught, and there is such a person as the instructor, and similarly the
learner, and next make demands about the means of learning.
²⁴ A verbally identical remark, except for the omission of the phrase “in our skeptical
place”, occurs at M 11.236, in the course of the longer discussion of teaching and learning in
that book. Much of the preceding material in that discussion, or in the prior chapter in the
same book on a supposed “expertise in living” (technê peri ton bion—M 11.168–215), would
be relevant in this context. Topos, “place”, is regularly used to refer to a passage in a book.
But the phrase as a way of identifying a passage in Sextus is curious: what part of his
writings would not qualify as a “skeptical place”? This may just be another way of referring
to Skeptical Treatises, cited just above (cf. [26], [29]), and the reference would fit; but topos
is not normally used of an entire work.
²⁵ M 9.195–329, 10.310–50.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
4. Arguments against the means of learning (36–8)

About the means of learning
[36] Matters of teaching occur either by plain experience or by speech.
But of these, plain experience is among things that are shown, and what
is shown is apparent, and what is apparent, in so far as it appears, is
grasped in common by everyone, and what is grasped in common by
everyone is not taught. Therefore what is shown by plain experience is
not taught. But speech either signifies or does not signify. [37] And if
it signifies nothing, nor will it be a teacher of anything, while if it does
signify, it signifies something either by nature or by fiat. And it does not
signify by nature, because not everyone understands everyone (Greeks
may not understand barbarians²⁶ or barbarians Greeks, or Greeks Greeks²⁷
or barbarians barbarians). [38] But if it signifies by fiat, it is clear that those
who have previously apprehended the things that the words apply to will
also apprehend these,²⁸ not by being taught by them²⁹ what they did not
know, but by renewing³⁰ what they did know; whereas those who are in
need of learning the things they do not know will not.³¹
If, then, there is neither the thing being taught, nor the teacher, nor the
learner, nor the means of learning, it is clear that there is not learning
either, nor the person in charge of a discipline.
5. Transition to treatment of specific disciplines (39–40)

[39] But since we promised to make our counter-argument not only a
general one against all those in the disciplines, but also a more specific
one against each, let’s suppose that there is some discipline and that
learning is possible, and look at whether what each discipline professes
is possible. We will take for our refutations not everything said by the
²⁶ i.e. non-Greek speakers. The word barbaros acquired some of the negative connota-
tions of the English “barbarian” long before Sextus’ time, but it continued to be used to refer
to anyone whose native language was other than Greek.
²⁷ Perhaps if their dialects were sufficiently different (as a Glaswegian and a Texan might
have difficulty communicating today). In the classical period, although not by Sextus’ time,
there were even substantial differences in the written representations of the different dialects.
²⁸ i.e. will apprehend them on the present occasion too. “These” are the things, not the
words (contrary to Bury and Pellegrin et al.).
²⁹ i.e. the words.
³⁰ i.e. recalling in their minds; for this usage, cf. M 8.143, 153, 288.
³¹ i.e. will not apprehend these things.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
people we are refuting (for besides being tough and unmethodical, this
may also be impossible), [40] nor any old things from all of them (for this
may not hit them), but the things that, if they are done away with, make
everything done away with too. And in the same way as those eager to
take a city strive especially to get control of the things whose capture
leads to the city being captured—for example, taking down the walls or
setting fire to their equipment or closing off their means of staying
alive—so too, in our contest with those in the disciplines, let us make
our attempt on the same thing, the points that keep everything safe for
them, for example their principles, or the general methods derived from
the principles, or their ends; for every discipline consists in these or
derives from these.³²
C. Against the Grammarians (41–320)

1. Introduction; distinction between basic literacy and technical
grammar, and approval of the former (41–56)
[41] Let us start right away with the investigation against the
grammarians—first because we are handed over to grammar virtually
from infancy and since our first baby outfits, and this is, as it were, a sort
of starting line towards the learning of the other subjects, and then because
it is self-important beyond all the sciences, just about promising the Sirens’
promise. [42] For they,³³ knowing that a human being by nature loves
learning and that there is lodged in his breast a great yearning for the truth,
promise not only to beguile those sailing by with wondrous songs, but also
to teach them the way things are. For they say
Come here, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans,
Stop your ship so you can hear our voice.
For no one ever yet sailed by here in a dark ship
Before hearing the honey-sweet sound from our mouths.
For we know all that the Argives and Trojans endured
In broad Troy by the will of the gods;
We know whatever has happened on the abundant earth.³⁴
³² The siege simile, applied as here to a critique of the most general or foundational
claims in a given field, also appears at M 9.2, PH 2.84. But the methodology it signifies is
apparent in a great deal of Sextus’ writing; in this work cf., e.g., 3.18, 6.38, 6.68.
³³ i.e. the Sirens. ³⁴ Odyssey 12.184–91.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
[43] And grammar, besides pronouncing rationally on the things in

myths and histories, boasts of dealing effectively with dialects and rules
of expertise and public readings; thus it produces a great longing for itself
in those listening.³⁵ But so as not to seem to be wandering past the door,
we must indicate how many forms of grammar there are and which of
them it is our task to investigate.
How many ways grammar is spoken of
[44] Grammar is spoken of homonymously³⁶ in both a general and a
specific sense. Generally, it is the knowledge of any letters [grammata]
whatever, whether Greek or barbarian, and in common usage we call this
“literacy”.³⁷ More specifically, it is the complete grammar worked out by
Crates of Mallos, Aristophanes, and Aristarchus. [45] Each of these
seems to be well named from an etymology. For the first one comes
from the letters by which we designate articulate sounds, the second
perhaps, as some have maintained, by extension³⁸ from the first. For it is
a portion of it, and in the same way as medicine [iatrikê] was so called in
³⁵ In this passage, where grammar is introduced, Sextus mischievously adopts the

stylistic and methodological pose of a grammarian, with poetic quotation and other
elevated or obscure vocabulary; on this see Sluiter 2000, 98–9 (and the next few pages for
other examples of this later in the book).
³⁶ The notion of “homonymy” originates with Aristotle; two or more things are spoken
of homonymously if they have the same name but not the same definition.
³⁷ The Greek word here (and in all other places in the following passage where “literacy”
appears) is grammatistikê—from grammatistês, the word for a teacher of basic reading and
writing. Grammatistikê was indeed conceived as a more elementary branch of grammar
than the technical knowledge of the experts; for discussion see Blank, 113–15. Note that the
original meaning of grammatikê, translated “grammar”, was simply the art of literacy; this is
its meaning in Plato and Aristotle—on this see Graham and Barney 2014. Sextus’ develop-
mental story in [45]–[46], where the technical expertise was an extension of basic literacy,
both of them being called by the same name grammatikê, thus has some historical merit. All
other translations of which I am aware render grammatistikê by “grammatistic” (or
equivalents in other languages). But this, of course, is not a translation, but a refusal to
translate. In some cases such a choice may be justified; in book 6 I refuse to translate aulos
(see the note on 6.1). But in this case I think we can do better. The reluctance to translate is
presumably due to Sextus’ point about etymology in [45]. But “literacy” is easily recognizable
(allowing for the slight difference between Latin and French roots) as an etymological relative
of the English “letters”; and if we bear in mind that the Greek for “letters” is grammata,
the passage is comprehensible with “literacy” for grammatistikê—which certainly works
much better once we get past the point about etymology (cf. [47], [52]–[54], [56]).
³⁸ Reading diatatikôteron with other editors and translators; following most of the mss.,
Mau has diataktikôteron (“in a more ordered fashion”?).
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
antiquity from the removal of arrows [ioi],³⁹ but is now also predicated of
the cure of other conditions, which is much more expert; [46] and as
geometry drew its name originally from the measuring of land [gê], but at
present is also applied to the contemplation of things more to do with
nature;⁴⁰ so too, the complete grammar, which was named in the begin-
ning from the knowledge of letters, has been extended to the knowledge
of them in more multifaceted and more expert theories. [47] But per-
haps, as Asclepiades says, this one too was named from letters—but not
from the same letters as literacy; that was named, as I said, from the
elements,⁴¹ but this is named from the writings [sungrammata] on which
it busies itself. For these too were called letters, just as we speak of public
letters,⁴² and say that someone is well versed in letters—that is, not the
elements but the writings. [48] And Callimachus once called a poem, and
at another time a piece of prose writing, a letter; he says:
I am the labor of Creophylus, who once received the divine singer⁴³
In his home. I tell of the sufferings of Eurytus and
Fair Ioleia, and I am called a Homeric
Letter. Dear Zeus, this is big for Creophylus!⁴⁴
And again:
Saying “Farewell, Sun!”, Cleombrotus of Ambracia
Leapt off a high wall to Hades;
Nothing had happened that he saw as worthy of death—he had merely
Read Plato’s letter On the Soul.⁴⁵
³⁹ Or perhaps “poison”; ios can mean both “arrow” and “poison”. But Iliad 11.514–15
describes removal of arrows as one of the doctor’s most valuable functions.
⁴⁰ Perhaps, as Fabricius suggests, Sextus is thinking of the use of geometry in astronomy.
But perhaps the idea is that geometrical structures underlie nature in general. Dye and
Vitrac 2009 argue that Sextus’ target in Against the Geometers is above all the claim of
geometry to be a privileged method of modeling the physical world. Among other things,
the considerable overlap between its arguments and those of Against the Physicists, espe-
cially those dealing with the subject of body, tends to support this.
⁴¹ That is, the elements of speech, represented in writing by letters; hence “elements”
(stoicheia) often comes to be seen as a simple synonym for “letters” (grammata). To keep
the terminology distinct, I continue to translate stoicheia by “elements”, even when it is
clear that the reference is to written symbols; see also [99].
⁴² i.e. inscriptions in public view; see Blank, 118. ⁴³ i.e. Homer.
⁴⁴ Epigram 6 Pfeiffer.
⁴⁵ Epigram 23 Pfeiffer. On the Soul is an alternative title for Plato’s Phaedo, where
Socrates argues that the true philosopher is better off dead.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
[49] However, since grammar is of two kinds, one professing to teach the
elements and their combinations and being something of a general
expertise in writing and reading, the other being a deeper power than
this, lying not in the bare knowledge of letters but also in the examination
of their discovery and their nature, as well as the parts of discourse
constructed from these and any other object of contemplation of the
same sort, it is not our task now to argue against the first. For it is
useful—everyone agrees about that, including even Epicurus, even
though he seems to be wholly hostile to those in the disciplines; at any
rate in his On Gifts and Gratitude he tries hard enough to teach that it is
necessary for the wise to learn letters. [50] And we would add, not only
for the wise but for all human beings. For it is plain that the goal of every
expertise is useful for life. [51] Some expertises came along primarily for
the purpose of avoiding troubles, others for discovering benefits. Medi-
cine is of the first kind, since it is a healing expertise that removes pain,
whereas navigation is of the second kind; for everyone is very much in
need of services from other nations. [52] Since literacy, then, through
conceiving of letters cures a most unproductive condition, forgetful-
ness, and maintains a most necessary activity, memory, virtually every-
thing rests on it, and without it, teaching others anything necessary is
not possible, nor will it be possible to learn anything profitable from
someone else. Literacy, then, is among the most useful things. [53] And
anyway, even if we wanted, we would not be able to do away with it
without being turned around;⁴⁶ for if the lines of attack teaching that
literacy is useless are useful, but can neither be remembered nor passed
on to posterity without it, then literacy is useful. However, some might
think that Timon, the spokesman⁴⁷ for Pyrrho’s discourses, has the
opposite preconception when he says:
⁴⁶ “Turning around” (peritropê) is Sextus’ term for self-refutation; see Castagnoli 2010,
especially chapters 6, 14.
⁴⁷ Prophêtês. The word refers to someone who expounds or interprets someone else’s
utterances—originally gods’ utterances, as in the English “prophet”, but later not restricted
to them. Blank argues with numerous examples that this word has a polemical tone, and
infers that Sextus must be using an anti-skeptical (probably Epicurean) source. I am not
convinced by this. A polemical tone can be created by context without a given word within
that context being intrinsically polemical—as at [279], where grammar is called the
grammarians’ prophêtis; I render this by the neutral term “interpreter”. Certainly Sextus
is making fun of the grammarians in that passage, but the effect can be readily conveyed
with a word that, in other contexts, need have no pejorative connotations.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
Grammar, of which there is no consideration nor inspection

By a man being taught the Phoenician signs of Cadmus.⁴⁸
[54] But in fact it doesn’t seem to be this way; for what he says, “there is
no consideration nor inspection”, is not such as to go against literacy
itself, by way of which “the Phoenician signs of Cadmus” are taught; for if
someone is being taught it, how has he not made it his business? Rather,
he is saying something like this: “for the person who has been taught the
Phoenician signs of Cadmus there is no business with any other gram-
mar beyond this”, which tends not towards this grammar—the one that
is observed in the elements and in writing and reading by means of
them—being useless, but the boastful and busybody kind. [55] For the
use of the elements bears directly on the conduct of life; but not to be
satisfied with what is handed down from the observation of these, and to
demonstrate in addition that some are by nature vowels and others
consonants, and that of the vowels some are by nature short, others
long, and others two-timed, having length and shortness in common,
and in general the rest of the stuff that the nonsense-filled grammarians
teach—that is useless. [56] So that we don’t just have no complaint
against literacy; we owe it the highest gratitude, and we apply our
refutations to the kind that is left over. Whether this is sound or the
opposite we may learn once we have further explained its character.
2. Scrutiny of prevailing conceptions of grammar (57–90)

A . DIONYSIUS OF THRACE ’ S DEFINITION (57–60)
What is grammar?
[57] Since it is not possible either to investigate or to reach an impasse,
according to the wise Epicurus, without a preconception,⁴⁹ it would be a
⁴⁸ Not otherwise recorded, and we have no idea of the context, or which poem of Timon
it comes from. It appears with brief discussion as text 45 in Decleva Caizzi 1981. Cadmus,
the legendary Phoenician founder of Thebes, is said to have brought the Phoenician script
with him and hence to have originated the Greek alphabet. The Phoenician script is not
strictly speaking an alphabet, but the Greek letters clearly do derive from the Phoenician
script or one closely related to it.
⁴⁹ The same thought is attributed with approval to Epicurus, in almost the same words, at
M 11.21; see also 2.1, where Epicurus is not mentioned. But Sextus is not always comfortable
beginning a topic with an uncritical account of the relevant “conception” or “preconception”
(for these terms in Epicurean and Stoic epistemology, see LS sections 17, 39–40); often the
dogmatists’ “conceptions” themselves become objects of skeptical scrutiny. Indeed, despite
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
good idea before anything else to inquire into what grammar is, and
whether, according to the conception delivered by the grammarians,
any consistent and real discipline can be conceived. Dionysius of
Thrace in his Precepts says “grammar is an experience for the most
part of what is said in poets and writers”,⁵⁰ calling “writers” none other
than those who have done their business in prose, as is clear from the
contrast with poets. [58] The grammarian goes after what is in the
poets (such as Homer and Hesiod, Pindar and Euripides and Menan-
der and the others), which he appears to interpret, and what is in the
writers (such as Herodotus and Thucydides and Plato), treating this as
his specific function. [59] Hence the accomplished among them have
busied themselves over many writers—sometimes historians, sometimes
orators, and also philosophers—investigating what has been said properly
and in conformity with their dialects, and what is corrupt: for example,
what zanklon means in Thucydides⁵¹ and torneuontes,⁵² or “he shouted as
if from a wagon” in Demosthenes,⁵³ or how one should read the expression
“ΗΔΟΣ” in Plato—pronouncing the first syllable unaspirated or aspir-
ated, or the first unaspirated and the second aspirated, or both unaspirated
or the reverse.⁵⁴ [60] For these reasons grammar is said to be an experience
of what is said in poets and writers.
the methodology implied here, that is what happens below, in the review of grammarians’
disputes over the definition of grammar—as the end of this sentence already anticipates. On
Sextus’ apparent vacillations on this subject, see Bett 1997, 62–5.
⁵⁰ This is identical with the first sentence of Dionysius’ Technê Grammatikê (usually
known by the Latinized title Ars Grammatica), except that “for the most part” occurs in
different wording (hôs epi to polu instead of hôs epi to pleiston) and in a more natural
position in the sentence (which in translation would come out “ . . . of what is said for the
most part . . . ”). Blank, 128–9 considers whether there is any significance to the different
wording, but inclines to doubt it. Precepts is presumably an alternative title for this work.
⁵¹ A Sicilian (i.e. non-Greek) word for “sickle” (Thucydides 6.4.5). For further details on
this and all the examples in this sentence, see Blank’s commentary.
⁵² “Turning on a lathe”. But this does not appear in Thucydides. Perhaps another
author’s name has dropped out of the text (an author who used the word in some peculiar
fashion—in itself it is not especially obscure).
⁵³ On the Crown 122. “As if from a wagon” means “in an abusive fashion”. The reference
is to Dionysiac processions in which insults and abuse were yelled by the people taking part;
On the Crown 11, in a similar context, speaks of pompeia, which originally meant just
“procession”, but came to mean “abuse” because of the abuse typical in this kind of
procession. Sextus again turns his attention to this speech of Demosthenes in the next
book, on rhetoric; see 2.40 with accompanying notes.
⁵⁴ I show the letters as they would have appeared in the original manuscripts of Plato.
The correct spelling, according to the more sophisticated later orthography, is ἦ δ᾽ὅς, or in
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
B . INITIAL OBJECTIONS TO THE DEFINITION (60–5)
This, then, is what he said. But Ptolemy the Peripatetic raises an objec-
tion against him: he should not have called grammar an experience, [61]
for experience itself is a sort of knack and is a non-expert, non-rational
operator, consisting in simple observation and shared exercise, whereas
grammar stands as an expertise.⁵⁵ But Ptolemy doesn’t spot that the
name “experience” is also applied to expertise, as we taught in our
Empirical Treatises,⁵⁶ since ordinary life indifferently calls the same
people “experienced” and “experts”. This conception is what led Metro-
dorus to say that “no other experience of affairs attends to its own end
except philosophy”—that is, no expertise. [62] And it is applied espe-
cially to the knowledge of many matters having multiple aspects, as we
speak, too, of old men who have seen much and heard much as experi-
enced in life, as Euripides says:
My son, not everything that belongs to old age
Is bad, Eteocles, but experience
Is able to say something wiser than the young.⁵⁷
[63] Perhaps this is the meaning that the Thracian⁵⁸ was driving at—
since he wants the grammarian to be someone of broad knowledge and
learning—when he said that grammar is an experience of the things said
in poets and writers. So that this is somewhat trivial. But perhaps
someone will say the following against him, which gets into a more
effective investigation: [64] either grammar turns out to be an experience
transliterated form, ê d’hos, meaning “he said”. The phrase is very common in Plato; but ê,
the word for “said”, was rare and archaic by the time of Sextus and the grammarians he is
discussing, which led to much discussion of the exact parsing of the phrase. In ancient
Greek texts, aspiration (expressed in our alphabet by the letter h) is not conveyed by a letter,
but by a rough breathing (the leftward of the two markings over ὅς); a word beginning with
(or consisting of) a vowel that was not aspirated was marked with a smooth breathing (the
lower of the two markings over ἦ). However, breathings did not appear in manuscripts until
after Plato’s time, adding to the confusion. In any case, the correct alternative, among those
that Sextus offers, is the second: first syllable unaspirated and second aspirated.
⁵⁵ A distinction between experience (empeiria) or “knack” (tribê) and expertise (technê),
with the former far inferior to the latter, famously occurs in Plato’s Gorgias (462b–466a).
But not everyone accepted this, and the debate about the relation between the two was
complicated; for a brief account of this with special reference to grammar, see Blank, 130–2.
⁵⁶ This appears to be a lost work of Sextus; the reference does not correspond with any of
his surviving writings. Cf. Introduction, first paragraph of Section 1.
⁵⁷ Phoenician Women 528–30. ⁵⁸ i.e. Dionysius—cf. [57].
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
only of the things said in poets and writers, or also of things that have
their place neither in poets nor in writers. But he⁵⁹ would not say that it is
an experience of only what is said in poets and writers, in as much as it
sometimes also has authority over the conversations at hand among
regular people who are not knowledgeable,⁶⁰ and checks out what is a
barbarism, what is Greek,⁶¹ what is a misuse and what is not. [65] And if
it is an experience not only of the things in poets and writers, they ought
not to have said that it is < . . . > to have an attribute from a part.⁶²
C . A MORE SERIOUS OBJECTION : HAZARDS IN THE PHRASE

“ FOR THE MOST PART ” (65–72)
But let us leave aside the quibbling about such things, and look, as we
promised, at whether, as far as a conception of this kind is concerned,
grammar can in the end subsist. [66] When they say that it is an experience
for the most part of what is said in poets and writers, they are speaking of
all these things or some of them. But if it is of all, then first,⁶³ it is no longer
“for the most part”, but of all of them, and if of all, then of an infinite
number; for these things are infinite. But there is no experience of infinite
things; therefore no grammar will come into being either. But if of some,
then since regular people also know some of the things said in poets and
writers, but do not have grammatical experience, in this way too there
cannot be said to be grammar. [67] Unless they will say that “for the most
part” has been said for this reason, to suggest the difference both from the
experience of all of them⁶⁴ and from the condition of a regular person.
⁵⁹ Mau, following Theiler, alters eipoien, “he would say” to eipoimen, “we would say”;
like Blank I see no need for this change.
⁶⁰ Again I follow Blank in declining to adopt Mau’s addition <theôreisthai>.
⁶¹ i.e. good or correct Greek; see [176]–[247].
⁶² This translates the text of the manuscripts, which is clearly defective but printed by
Mau unchanged. A minor change from apo merous echein to <ho> apo merous echei,
suggested by Bekker and adopted by Bury and Pellegrin et al., still seems to leave the
language extremely strained. Giusta 1962, 429 (followed by Blank) proposes ouk edei
autên <toutôn empeirian> einai legein, <ha> apo merous echein sumbebêken (the last
word altered from the mss. reading sumbebêkos), which is close to something tentatively
suggested by Mau in the app. crit. This at least gives intelligible Greek, which could be
rendered “they should not have said that it is an experience of what it happens to have only
as a part”. In any case the general idea is clear enough: on the supposition here under
consideration, the definition fails to cover grammar’s whole subject matter.
⁶³ I do not follow Mau in deleting proton men at this point.
⁶⁴ With Mau I delete aporian and emend empeiria to empeiria<n>; in addition, with
Harder, I delete eniachou. Clearly something is wrong with the text at this point—in
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
For the grammarian differs from the regular person in so far as he has
experience not of a few, like the latter, but of most of the things said in
poets and writers; yet he stands apart from the knowledge of all of
them, which is probably an impossible state, since he does not profess
to know all, but most of them. [68] But this fits not with someone
who is defending himself, but with someone multiplying evils on
evils and drawing impasses upon himself—not moderately but to an
extreme. First, just as “many” are limitless and generate the impasse of
the sorites,⁶⁵ so too are “most”. So let them either circumscribe them,
showing how far we should say the knowledge of what is said in poets
and writers goes; or if they stick with a limitless promise, saying that they
know “most”, let them accept the questioning that goes little by little.⁶⁶
[69] For when a number is determined as very large,⁶⁷ the number one
less is still very large, since it is completely absurd to say that by the
addition of a unit one is very large and the other not. Well then, if the
number they count as very large keeps on being reduced by a unit, it will
definitely come to be no longer a very large number, and for this reason
there will not be grammar either—which was the conclusion of the
sorites impasse. [70] And it really fits in with their grammatical thick-
headedness,⁶⁸ doesn’t it, to say “very many” in the case of an infinite
amount? For just as “fewer” is in relation to something and is conceived
in terms of its state in relation to “very many”, so too “very many” will be
considered in terms of its state in relation to “few”. If, then, the gram-
marians have experience of most of the things said in poets and writers,
particular, it is very difficult to retain both aporia and empeiria (in any forms)—and this
seems the easiest way to get a clear transition to the thought in the next sentence.
⁶⁵ A sorites (literally, “heap”) puzzle trades on the difficulty of answering the question
“how many grains make a heap?”, or analogous questions in any domain involving similar
kinds of incremental change. To stick with the heap case, for any given collection of grains
that is not a heap, adding one more grain will not make it a heap, or for any collection that
is a heap, subtracting one grain will not make it cease to be a heap; yet if the operation is
performed enough times, the change will clearly have taken place.
⁶⁶ That is, sorites questioning; see n. 65.
⁶⁷ “Very large” (pleistos) is the same Greek word translated above by “most” (such
alternatives are a standard pattern with superlatives in Greek); hence the point in this
section is a direct application of the sorites strategy to the view currently under consider-
ation. I have not found a way to make this obvious in the text while maintaining some
semblance of natural English. The same applies to “very many” in [70], which is again a
translation of pleistos.
⁶⁸ Blank’s translation of pachutêtos, which I cannot improve on.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
they do not have experience of the few left over; [71] but if what is
taken is most, and what is left behind is less, the whole becomes no
longer infinite.⁶⁹ However, to avoid getting into any minutiae about
these things, it is false that the grammarian knows most of the things
said in poets and writers; it is actually very few, and there are many
times more left over which he does not know, as I will establish as
the investigation goes forward. [72] But for now, we should consider
another account.
D . ASCLEPIADES ’ DEFINITION , AND HOW IT FARES

NO BETTER (72–5)
Asclepiades criticizes Dionysius of Thrace for calling grammar an experi-

ence, for the same reason as Ptolemy, and also objects to his⁷⁰ presenting
it as “for the most part” an experience. For this is true of expertises that
depend on guesswork and are subject to chance, like navigation and
medicine; but grammar does not depend on guesswork, but is similar to
music and philosophy. [73] “Unless”, he says, “he is afraid of the shortness
of life, that it is not sufficient for taking everything in (which is absurd),
he will be providing the definition of a grammarian, not of grammar,
since he, being a short-lived animal, is perhaps the one who turns out
to be knowledgeable about most of the things said in poets and writers,
whereas grammar is knowledge of all of them.” [74] Hence, altering
one part of this definition and doing away with another part, he
delivers the conception of grammar as follows: “grammar is an expert-
ise of the things said in poets and writers”. But the man did not do away
with the impasses, but intensified them; and in the very words by which
he wanted to boost grammar, he did away with it. For let’s say it is
⁶⁹ The point here is obscure. Blank, following Giusta 1962, 429–30, makes an addition
to the text that results in Sextus concluding “<It should not be granted to them that> the
whole is not infinite”, and takes the point to be that, since any portion of an infinite
number is still infinite, the grammarians are faced with an impossible, because infinite,
task (cf. [66]). But I find it very hard to see this line of thought in the text even as
amended; and the alteration seems to me to neglect the force of ouketi, “no longer”, which
suggests that a number previously considered infinite has somehow been deprived of that
status. I therefore prefer to leave the text as it is; Sextus’ arguments sometimes just resist
our attempts to make sense of them.
⁷⁰ The manuscripts read kai tôi, which is not possible Greek. Mau follows Bekker in
altering to kai to. Blomqvist’s alternative kai <epi> tôi is plausible (1968, 74–5); however,
the translation is the same either way.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
knowledge of all the things said in poets and writers. Since, then,
knowledge is nothing aside from the knower, grammar too is nothing
aside from the grammatical knower, just as there is no walking aside
from the walker and no standing aside from the person standing and no
lying in bed aside from the person lying down. [75] But it was agreed that
the grammarian does not have knowledge of everything; therefore there
is no longer knowledge of all the things said in poets and writers, and for
this reason nor is there grammar. And besides, if grammar is an expert-
ise, being knowledge of all the things said in poets and writers, and
expertise is a system of apprehensions,⁷¹ then since no one has appre-
hension of all the things said in poets and writers, grammar necessarily
becomes non-existent.
E . CHAERIS ’ DEFINITION , AND ITS MERITS AND DEFECTS (76–83)
[76] Chaeris⁷² in the first book of his On Grammar says that complete
grammar is “a habit that is able to discern from expertise the things said
and thought by the Greeks up to the most precise point, except for the
things that fall under other expertises”. The bit he added at the end is not
insignificant; [77] for since some of the things said and thought by the
Greeks fall under expertises and some do not, he does not think that
grammar is an expertise and habit concerning the things falling under
expertises, for example in music the concord of the fourth and the change
of scales, or in mathematics the eclipse or the position of the orbits;⁷³ and
we must think the same in the case of the other expertises. For grammar is
not knowledge of any of the things that fall under them, but is a certain
method for examining the other things said and thought aside from these.
[78] Things thought are, for example, that pisures means four [tessares]⁷⁴
⁷¹ Cf. 2.10 for the standard definition of a technê.

⁷² Sextus’ text reads Chares. But the definition given here has a considerable verbal
overlap with one attributed to Chaeris in the commentaries on Dionysius (118.10); Chaeris
is attested elsewhere, and may have been a pupil of Aristarchus, whereas there is no
evidence for a grammarian Chares. (For references see Blank, 137–8, n. 105.) A small
error of this kind by a scribe not closely acquainted with the history of Greek grammar
would be no surprise.
⁷³ “Mathematics” appears to be understood here as equivalent to “astronomy” or
“astrology”; for this usage, see 4.34, 5.1.
⁷⁴ Pisures, appearing in Homer, is an alternative dialect form of tessares, the usual Greek
word for “four”.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
and that bêssai and ankea mean accessible places;⁷⁵ things said are those
concerning the dialects, such as that this is the Doric form and this the
Aeolic form—meaning not the signified, as the Stoics do,⁷⁶ but on the
contrary, the signifier; “what is thought” is used in the case of the signified.
[79] But he also seems to be bringing forward an argument of Crates. For
Crates said that the critic is different from the grammarian; the critic, he
says, has to be experienced in all of the science of words, whereas the
grammarian is simply able to explain obscure words and assign accents
and knows about things like these; and so the former is like the master
craftsman and the grammarian like his underling.⁷⁷
[80] Such are the contents of his account; in one way they are more
reasonable than the absurdities of Dionysius, but in another way worse. For
it is right away plain that he released grammar from the sorites impasse,
and separated it from theoretical matters that belong elsewhere—music
and mathematics—on the basis of their irrelevance. But he has by no
means freed it from being non-existent; in fact, he has given further
assistance to its being so. [81] For Dionysius in a certain respect
limited the definition of grammar by setting it over poets and writers
only; but this man⁷⁸ wants it to be concerned with every Greek utter-
ance and everything signified. Which, if it is permitted to say so, is not
even attainable for the gods. For as we said earlier,⁷⁹ no method is
constructed for examining anything infinite; above all, it itself limits
⁷⁵ Both these words appear together at Iliad 22.190. The scholia on Homer (D scholia)
says of these two terms, “these are names for the hollow and accessible places on moun-
tains” (basimoi topoi, “accessible places” being the same Greek phrase as in Sextus);
translators of Homer generally use words such as “glens” and “hollows”. Blank adds “and
hollow” to Sextus’ text at this point, the idea being that one of the two terms means
“accessible” and the other “hollow”. However, while it may be true, as he says, that the
two terms “were glossed differently by ancient and medieval lexicographers” (142), I see no
distinction between them intended in the scholium passage itself; and even if there was a
distinction, that would only justify changing Sextus’ text if we were to assume that he was
always scrupulously careful and faithful to his sources (and that he was using this or an
equivalent source).
⁷⁶ The term lekton, here translated “thing said”, is used by the Stoics to refer to the
content of an utterance—in the present terminology (which the Stoics share), “what is
signified” (sêmainomenon)—rather than to the actual linguistic form or “signifier” (sêmai-
non). See M 8.11–12 for Sextus’ own explanation of this. Following other translators,
I render lekton in purely Stoic contexts by “sayable” (e.g. [20]).
⁷⁷ On the subordination of grammar to criticism, cf. [248].
⁷⁸ i.e. Chaeris. ⁷⁹ [66].
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
this.⁸⁰ [82] For science sets bonds on the indefinite; but the signifiers
and things signified of objects are infinite; therefore the grammatical
expertise is not about signifiers and things signified. Then again, all
sorts of changes occur in phrases, and have occurred before now, and
will occur in the future; for time likes change, not only in plants and
animals but also in words. [83] But it is impossible to find human
knowledge that concerns an infinity that is at rest, let alone⁸¹ one that is
changing. Therefore grammar will not be constructed in this way
either. Besides, either he thinks the habit⁸² is expert or non-expert.
And if it is expert, why did he not say that it, rather than that from
which it is,⁸³ is an expertise? But if it is non-expert, then since it is not
possible for the expert to be perceived via the non-expert, nor will any
grammatical habit be constructed that expertly discerns the Greeks’
signifiers and things signified.⁸⁴
F . DEFINITION OF DEMETRIOS AND OTHERS , AND HOW

IT FAILS LIKE THE OTHERS (84–9)
[84] Demetrios, who was nicknamed Chlorus,⁸⁵ and certain other gram-
marians defined it like this: “grammar is an expertise of what is in poets
and also knowledge of the words in common usage”. The same impasses
remain for these people too; for neither can grammar be an expertise of
all the things said in poets or of some of them. [85] “All of them” is right
away impossible, since things are said in the poets about gods, virtue, and
the soul, of which the grammarians have no acquaintance; but so is
“some of them”, because this sort of thing falls not only to grammarians
but also to others, such as philosophers, musicians, and doctors. For
these too take a look at some of the things in poets. [86] Again, in saying
that grammar is also knowledge of the words in common usage, if they
take this as the general point “If there are some words in common usage,
grammar is the knowledge of them”, they are mistaken; for the words in
common usage are infinite, and there is no knowledge of infinite things.
⁸⁰ i.e. the method itself, or method itself in general, puts a limit on what can be examined.
⁸¹ The text should perhaps be altered from ou toi ge to ouch’hoti ge (Blank following
Giusta 1962, 431); however, the sense is unaffected.
⁸² i.e. the “habit” (hexis) that figures in Chaeris’ definition (cf. [76]).
⁸³ Again this refers back to the definition at [76]: “a habit that is able to discern from
expertise . . . ”.
⁸⁴ Again see the definition at [76]. ⁸⁵ = “pale”, “pallid”.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
[87] But if they are heading towards the particular point, which is
equivalent to “There are some words in common usage of which gram-
mar is the knowledge”, not even in this way will they make grammar into
anything; for the Athenian has knowledge of the words common in Attic,
and the Dorian of those in Doric, and the orator of those in rhetoric, and
the doctor of those in medicine. [88] And if they say that it is knowledge
of all the words in common usage—not all of them one by one and in
turn (for that is really impossible), but all of them in general and at the
highest level in the dialects, for example that the Dorians use this sort of
accent,⁸⁶ the Ionians another—they will say something that is perhaps
persuasive, but not, however, true. [89] For neither is there a single
practice in each dialect (for there are many varieties of Doric and
Attic), nor do the rules that the grammarians think they are handing
down extend to every word; they only go as far as a certain number that
are accented in the same way, such as oxytones and barytones,⁸⁷ and are
unable to encompass all of them.
G . TRANSITION FROM THE CONCEPTION OF GRAMMAR

TO ITS CONTENT (90)
[90] Enough said, then, by way of example, towards the non-existence of

grammar—as long as we go by the grammarians’ conception of it;
moving on to the next topic, let us test the most important of its theories,
from which it especially derives its subsistence.
3. Distinction among three main parts of grammar:

expert, historical, and special (91–6)
What are the parts of grammar?
[91] There is wide and endless disagreement among the grammarians
about the parts of grammar. To avoid our having a side issue seem to
take the place of the main task, or getting into alien material that is
useless for the present purpose, and so leaving off our more important
⁸⁶ That is, not just whether a certain sort of accent is used, but on which syllable (cf. [89]
on oxytones and barytones). Presumably to capture this point, both Blank and Pellegrin
et al. translate “accentuation”.
⁸⁷ An oxytone is a word with an acute accent on the last syllable; a barytone is a word
with no accent on the last syllable.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
counter-argument, it will be enough to say without quibbling that one

part of grammar is historical, one expert, and one special, by which
things to do with poets and writers are dealt with. [92] Of these the
expert part is the one in which they set things in order concerning the
elements and the parts of discourse, correct writing, and good Greek and
the things that follow. The historical part is where they teach about
characters, for example divine, human, and heroic, or explain about
places, such as mountains or rivers, or impart traditions about fictions
and myths or anything else of the same kind. [93] The special part is the
one <in which> they examine the things to do with poets and writers;⁸⁸
here they explain things said unclearly, judge what is sound and what
is not so, and distinguish the genuine from the spurious. Well, captured
in outline and rather roughly, these are the parts of grammar; [94] but
one should not conceive them as unadulterated, nor in the way that
one might say “the parts of the human being are soul and body”. For
these are conceived as being different from one another, but the expert
and historical parts of grammar and the part about poetry and writings
are highly interwoven and mixed with the rest. [95] Indeed, the exam-
ination of the poets does not come about apart from the expert and
historical parts, and each of these is not constituted without the inter-
mingling of the others. So just as those who say that the parts of medicine
are lifestyle, surgery, and pharmacy speak in this way on the assumption
that there is a lot of mutual connection in their theories (for lifestyle does
not advance apart from pharmacy and surgery, and again, pharmacy is
comprised in the power of the others), so too in the present case each
part is not something set apart or unadulterated by mixture with the
others. [96] It was not without purpose that we articulated this matter
beforehand, but so that we may perceive how, if any one of these is
shown not to hold together, the rest are in effect done away with as well;
each of them does not subsist apart from the one that has been done
away with. Nonetheless, we will not do this,⁸⁹ despite its being brief, but
we will try to argue against each part as if it did not need the presence of
the rest. We should begin with the first in order.
⁸⁸ Retaining episkopousi (deleted by Mau following Theiler) and changing to to <hôi> ta

(Bekker), <en hôi> ta (Bury), or <di’hou> ta (Giusta 1962, 428); the sense will be essentially
the same with any of these.
⁸⁹ i.e. treat counter-arguments against one part as also having force against the other parts.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
4. The expert part of grammar (97–247)

A . INTRODUCTION (97–9)
That the expert part of grammar is unmethodical

and does not hold together
[97] There are many other reasons why it is fitting to take some trouble
in examining the expert discourse of grammar, but especially because the
grammarians give themselves airs over it and think high thoughts, and
are always running down those who are honored in the other disciplines
as not even understanding the Greeks’ common usage, and further
because, if they are ever under pressure in an investigation, they can
often find no other recourse for distracting their fellow investigators than
that what they said was a barbarism or a solecism. [98] And we get no
small measure of encouragement when we look at grammarians who can
barely string two words together with elegance wanting to convict as
barbarous each of the ancient authors who had great ability in correct
phrasing and good Greek, such as Thucydides, Plato, and Demosthenes.
Against them one defense will take the place of all, if we demonstrate that
their falsely named expert discourse is not expert. [99] First in order we
should speak about the elements, out of which everything, according to
them, is put together, and which, if they are done away with, are bound
to make the grammarians unlettered.⁹⁰
B . THE ELEMENTS OF GRAMMAR , AND PROBLEMS

WITH THEM (99–120)
“Element” is said in three ways: the written character or mark, its value,
and also its name. Let us now proceed especially to investigate the value;
for this is what they call an element in the proper sense. [100] There are,
then, twenty-four elements of the voice as written, and they lay down a
twofold nature for them at the highest level. They call some of them
vowels and others consonants: seven vowels, α ε η ι ο υ ω,⁹¹ and the rest
consonants. Of the vowels they say there are three different kinds: two of
⁹⁰ Agrammatous, formed from gramma, “letter”, and the privative prefix a- (the equiva-
lent of English “un-” or “in-”).
⁹¹ Ancient Greek has separate letters for short and long e (epsilon, ε, and eta, η,
respectively) and o (omicron, ο, and omega, ω). (The letters still exist in modern Greek,
but the long/short distinction is no longer present.)
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
them, they say, turn out to be long by nature, η and ω, an equal number
are short, ε and ο, and three have length and shortness in common, α, ι,
and υ, which they call two-timed and liquid and ambiguous and subject
to change; [101] for each of them is of a nature to be sometimes extended
and sometimes contracted—for example, α in
Ares, Ares, ruin of mortals, murderous stormer of walls⁹²
Or ι in
Into holy Ilion; and Apollo rushed to meet her⁹³
Or υ in
Poured divine water out of Zeus’ clouds⁹⁴
[102] Of the consonants some, according to them, are semi-vocal and

others non-vocal.⁹⁵ The semi-vocal ones are whichever are of a nature to
produce a whizzing or a hissing or a murmur or some similar sound as
they are pronounced, namely, ζ θ λ μ ν ξ ρ σ φ χ ψ, or as some say, the
remaining eight aside from θ and φ and χ. The non-vocal ones are those
that are not capable of making either syllables or specific sounds by
themselves, but can do it⁹⁶ only when pronounced together with others,
namely β γ δ κ π τ—or as some say, also θ φ χ. [103] Then again, of the
consonants in general some are naturally rough and others smooth: the
rough ones are θ φ χ, the smooth ones κ π τ, and they say that only ρ
allows either one, roughness or smoothness.⁹⁷ And they say that some of
the consonants are also double, namely ζ ξ ψ;⁹⁸ for ζ is composed out of σ
and δ, ξ out of κ and σ, and ψ out of π and σ.
⁹² Iliad 5.31; as is clear from the meter, the A (alpha) in Ares is long the first time and
short the second.
⁹³ Iliad 7.20; here the first I (iota) in Ilion (Troy) is long and the second short (not to
mention two other short iotas in other words in the line).
⁹⁴ A lyric fragment of unknown authorship; the first of the final two words, huen hudôr
(“poured water”), has a short u (upsilon) and the second a long u.
⁹⁵ This does not correspond to the distinction between voiced and voiceless consonants
in modern linguistics. Brief explanation is given in Blank, 156–8; however, this terminology
plays no role in Sextus’ subsequent discussion, almost all of which is devoted to vowels.
⁹⁶ I retain the auto of the mss. instead of altering to auta, as does Mau following Harder.
⁹⁷ A ρ (r) at the beginning of a word is aspirated and is marked with a rough breathing
(cf. n. 54); elsewhere (except in rare cases) it does not have this aspiration.
⁹⁸ Zeta, xi, and psi. Zeta, though represented in transliteration by z, was actually pro-
nounced something like “zd”; see the subsequent explanation. Xi is equivalent to our x, which
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
[104] Well, now that these are in place at the outset as elements, I say
first that it is absurd for them to say that some of the elements are double.
For what is double is a composite of two, but the element is not a
composite of anything; it ought to be simple and not put together out
of other things. Therefore there is not a double element. Besides, if the
things putting together the double element are elements, the double,
since it is composed of the elements, will not be an element; but the
things putting together the double element are elements; therefore the
double is not an element.
[105] Then again, just as these are done away with, so too are the two-
timed, which are held to have a nature with both length and shortness in
common. For if they are like that, either the letter on its own—for example,
the bare character α⁹⁹—is such as to reveal its two-timed nature, <or> it is
able to be now contracted and now extended by its modulation.¹⁰⁰ [106]
But the character on its own is not indicative of an element common in
nature. For it does not reveal that it is lengthened or that it is shortened or
both together—lengthened and shortened; but in the same way as the
syllable built on it, as was said in the case of the word Ares, is not known to
be either long or short without the added modulation,¹⁰¹ so too α, ι, and υ
the explanation here would also fit; psi does not have any equivalent in the Roman alphabet,
but was pronounced “ps”.
⁹⁹ The mss. read α ι υ; I follow Blomqvist 1968, 75–6 and Blank in deleting the second
and third letters, since the context makes clear that Sextus is giving an example, not the
complete list of “two-timed” vowels (cf. [100]–[101]).
¹⁰⁰ Again I follow Blomqvist 1968, 76 and Blank on the text, adding <ê> (rather than
Mau’s <ê to>), deleting the manuscripts’ kai in the same place (as does Mau), and rejecting
Mau’s addition (following Theiler) <koinon sun> between dunamenon and prosôidia.
“Modulation” (prosôidia) refers to differences of pronunciation—such as in the length, as
here, or the tone or the presence or absence of aspiration (cf. n. 54)—that are not apparent
from the letters themselves. In the case of tone or aspiration, these differences are
marked by accents and breathings respectively, and so prosôidia is also used to refer to
these markings. However, in the case of the “two-timed” letters α, ι, and υ, which can be
pronounced either long or short, there are no additional written markings for length or
shortness as such (even though, as Sextus points out at [109], a circumflex accent is a sure
indicator of a long syllable). Hence “marking” (or Blank’s “prosodic marking”) is not always
an appropriate translation of prosôidia. I borrow “modulation” from the French translation
of Pellegrin et al.; this refers in the first instance to variations in the pronunciation, but
with the understanding that these are often reflected by additional markings (e.g. [114],
“circumflex modulation”).
¹⁰¹ Cf. [101], where the “modulation” of the α in the name Ares varies depending on the
position in the line; anyone familiar with the structure of the epic meter (dactylic hexam-
eters) would immediately hear the first occurrence as long and the second as short.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
taken on their own will not have each value in common, but neither.
[107] It remains, then, to say that it is common with modulation.
Which is again not feasible; for when it takes this in addition, it either
becomes long, when it is long, or short, when it is short, but never
common. Therefore there are not elements by nature two-timed. [108]
But if they were to say that these are common by nature in so far as
they are receptive of either one, length and contraction, they will have
been wrapped up unawares in virtually the same impasse. For what is
receptive of something is not the very thing of which it is receptive; for
just as the bronze is receptive of becoming a statue, but is not a statue
in so far as it is receptive, and in the same way as the timber has a
nature suitable for becoming a ship, but is not yet a ship, so too
elements of this kind are receptive of both length and contraction,
but are neither long nor short nor either one before being given that
quality by a modulation. [109] And on top of what has been said,
shortness and extension are opposite and do not subsist together; for
extension is formed by shortness being done away with, and a short
comes into being when a long is done away with. For this reason it is
impossible for a letter with a circumflex¹⁰² to be short, because exten-
sion necessarily subsists together with the circumflex. [110] Which is
why, if there is any element that is by nature two-timed, the values of
shortness and extension will subsist in it either at once or in turn. But
at once is not feasible; for values that are such as to do away with one
another could not subsist in the same utterance at the same time. What
is left, then, is “in turn”—which is again unpersuasive; for when it is
long, it is not an element having shortness and length in common, but
only short.¹⁰³
¹⁰² An accent that, as Sextus says, can attach only to long vowels, and that indicates a
rising, then falling tone.
¹⁰³ I translate the manuscript text (retained by Mau) as it stands. But something is
clearly wrong. The simplest solution is to change the final word from “short” to “long”
(Jürß). Other editors and translators make additions that result in both options, “short”
and “long”, being considered, and the hypothesis of the element having both values “in
common” being denied in either case. Some version of this latter approach seems truer to
Sextus’ usual patterns of arguing. On any of these reconstructions, the central point
(expressed less directly than one might have hoped) must be that an element that is
short and long “in turn” does not truly have these values “in common”, since at any given
time it has only one of them.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
[111] Let us take as given the same means of attack in the case of the
elements that are by nature smooth or rough or common to both;¹⁰⁴ it is
enough for our purpose to indicate the kind of attack.
Well then, since the common elements have been done away with and
it has been shown that they are merely either extended or contracted, it
will follow that each of them is also twofold: one is by nature long and the
other by nature short. [112] But if α and ι and υ are twofold, there will no
longer be only seven elements that are vowels, of which two are long
(η and ω), two short (ε and ο), and three two-timed (α and ι and υ), but
ten in all, of which five will be long (η and ω and the long α and ι and υ),
and the same number short (ο and ε and the short α and ι and υ). [113]
But since the sons of the grammarians¹⁰⁵ have supposed that there are
not only two modulations, short and long, but also acute, grave, circum-
flex, rough, and smooth, each of the vowels indicated, when it has one of
these as the modulation peculiar to it, will become an element; and just as
it was argued that there was no element with length and shortness in
common, but either it was just long, when it had the long modulation, or
short, when it had the short one, by the same argument there will be
none that has acuteness and gravity in common, but it will be either just
acute, when it has picked up the acute modulation, or grave, when the
grave, and similarly in the other cases. Since, then, the short ones, which
are two, admit five modulations each—short, acute, grave, rough, and
smooth—they will become ten. [114] Again, the long ones, which are
two, since¹⁰⁶ above and beyond this they also take the circumflex modu-
lation (for these are long, are acute, are grave, are rough, are smooth, and
have the peculiar nature of being circumflex), will become twelve. And
the common ones, which are three, admit the seven modulations¹⁰⁷ each,
and in this way become twenty-one. So that all together they turn out to
¹⁰⁴ Cf. [103]. In fact it is only the element said to have smoothness and roughness “in
common”, namely ρ, that is susceptible to the line of argument just given—not the whole
class of elements with roughness and/or smoothness.
¹⁰⁵ “Sons of the (paides tôn) X” is not uncommon as a periphrasis for “X”, with perhaps
an implication that the group in question persisted for a number of generations; for other
examples in Sextus see M 5.57, 83, 6.19, 30, 10.270, 11.24.
¹⁰⁶ With Blank and Giusta 1962, 431, I read the supplement <epei>; Mau has <ei>, “if ”,
following Hervetus. Some addition is needed to make a well-formed sentence, and <epei>,
“since”, matches the epei in the previous sentence on the short vowels.
¹⁰⁷ i.e. all the seven previously mentioned: long, short, acute, grave, circumflex, rough,
and smooth.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
be forty-three;¹⁰⁸ and when the seventeen consonants are added to these,

there get to be sixty elements, not twenty-four.
[115] There is also another argument along different lines: it is main-
tained that the vowel elements, again, are fewer than the seven that the
grammarians go on about. For if α when extended and when contracted
is not, according to them, a different element but a single common one,
and ι and υ similarly, it will follow that ε and η are also a single common
element with the same value. For there is the same value in both cases:
η contracted becomes ε, and ε extended becomes η. In the same way
ο and ω will also become one element with a common nature, differing
by extension and contraction, since ω is a long ο and ο is a short ω. [116]
The grammarians, then, are blind and do not see what follows for them,
when they say that there are seven vowels, while in their nature there are
only five.
Conversely, some philosophers say that there will be some more
elements that have a different value from those normally handed
down, such as αι and ου and everything of a similar nature. For one
must judge of an element that it is an element from its having a non-
composite sound of a single quality, like that of α and ε and ο and the rest.
[117] Since, then, the sound of αι and ει is simple and of one kind, these
too will be elements. For a proof that they are simple and of one kind,
read on. The composite sound is not of a nature to remain up to the
end just as it strikes the sense at the start, but is altered in the course of
its duration; on the other hand, the simple sound, which really meets
the standard of an element, is on the contrary unchanging from start to
finish. For example, if the sound ρα is uttered over a duration, it is clear
that the sense will not apprehend it in the same way on its first impact
and on its last, but will be moved at the start by the enunciation of
the ρ, and then, when it has disappeared, will gain apprehension of the
pure value of the α. Hence ρα cannot be an element, nor can anything
like it. [118] But if they are speaking of the sound αι, it will not be like
this at all; the way the peculiar character of the sound is heard at the
¹⁰⁸ This actually undercounts the total number of possible variations, since Sextus only
considers each modulation separately. In fact they frequently occur together in different
combinations; for example, at the start of a word there are often both a breathing and an
accent, and any vowel bearing an accent and/or a breathing is also either long or short.
(According to Blank the actual total should be eighty-one.)
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
beginning is the same as at the end, so that αι will be an element.¹⁰⁹

And if this is so, then since the sound of ει and of ου is also grasped
as of one kind, non-composite and unchanging from beginning to end,
these too will be elements.¹¹⁰
[119] But we may leave off this investigation and say the following,
which can distress the grammarians even more. If three elements, α ι υ,
are called common because of being receptive of both length and con-
traction, it will follow that every element is said to be common; for it is
receptive of the four modulations—of being grave, acute, smooth, and
rough. Or if they cannot abide saying that every element is common, let
them also not say that those ones are common in so far as they are
receptive of extension and contraction.
[120] Now that the elements of grammar have been put into impasse,¹¹¹
then, it would have been sufficient to put an end to the investigation; for
what argument is left for the grammarians about what comes after the
principles, when they do not have their principles? But still, it is not
inappropriate to proceed further into the subject and, by way of example,
put those, too, to the test. And since syllables are made out of elements,
let us tack on the things about them.
C . SYLLABLES , AND PROBLEMS WITH THEM (121–30)
About the syllable

[121] Every syllable is either long or short. It becomes long, they say, in
two ways, by nature and by position. By nature in three ways: either
when it has an element that is long by nature, as in the case of the word
ἠώς [“dawn”] (for each of these syllables is long because of one having η,
the other ω, which are long by nature), or when it consists of two vowels,
¹⁰⁹ In classical Greek, αι was pronounced as a diphthong, like the ai in “Cairo” (Egypt,
not Illinois). But by late antiquity it was pronounced as a single vowel, similar to that in
“bed” or “nest” (in standard British or American English)—as it still is in Greek today.
¹¹⁰ Again, in Sextus’ time (in fact, for many centuries before), these pairs of letters were
pronounced as single sounds. On the evolution in their pronunciations from diphthongs to
single sounds, see Smyth 1956, section 25, or in more detail, Allen 1987, 69–79.
¹¹¹ What is the impasse here? To judge from this section, it is that the grammarians have
failed to offer any consistent picture of what the elements are on which grammar is to be
based; as Sextus expresses it just below, “they do not have their principles”. This does not
sound like a balance between equally powerful opposing arguments—the picture suggested
at the outset in [6]; it sounds like an outright refutation. On this apparent inconsistency in
Sextus’ methodology, see the Introduction, Section 3.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
as in the case of the word αἰεί [“always”] (for the two syllables are long by
each being made out of two vowels), or when it has an element that is
common¹¹² and taken as long, as in the case of “Ares”;¹¹³ for the two-
timed α is here pronounced as long. [122] A syllable gets to be long by
nature, then, in three ways, but by position in five ways: when it ends in
two simple consonants,¹¹⁴ or when the syllable after it begins with two
consonants, or when it ends in a consonant and the next one begins with
a consonant, or when it ends in a double element,¹¹⁵ or when a double
element is placed after it. [123] Well, if every syllable is either long or
short in the ways indicated in their expert discourse, then if we can
establish that there is neither of them, it is clear that the grammarians
will not have word either. For just as, when the elements are done away
with, the syllables are also done away with along with them, so too, if
there are not syllables, neither will words come into being nor in general
the parts of discourse, and for this reason not discourse either.
[124] In order for there to be any short syllable, it first has to be agreed
that there is a minimally short time¹¹⁶ in which it subsists. But there is
no minimal time; for every time is divided to infinity, as we will show
later;¹¹⁷ but if it is divided to infinity, there is no minimal time. Therefore
¹¹² Cf. [100]–[101].

¹¹³ I follow Blank in reading the vocative form with circumflex accent, Ἆρες (the first of
the two occurrences in the quotation at [101]), rather than the nominative Ἄρης as in the
mss. (retained by Mau). In the transmitted text the α would not be long, whereas the
circumflex in Ἆρες guarantees a long syllable (cf. [109]). (Of course the translation into
English is unaffected.)
¹¹⁴ i.e. as opposed to double consonants; see [103].
¹¹⁵ i.e. a double consonant (cf. [103]).
¹¹⁶ Literally, “minimal and short”: i.e. a period of time that cannot be further subdivided.
It is not clear why (as Sextus seems to think) recognition of short syllables should require
accepting the existence of these indivisible time-periods; the duration of a short syllable may
be the shortest unit of time relevant in this context, but it does not follow that it is in some
absolute sense not further divisible, or that the grammarians need to suppose so. See Blank,
168, however, for a brief discussion of the grammarians’ own lack of unanimity on what
counts as short or long, including the significance of the comparison with musicians in [126].
¹¹⁷ Commentators generally point to the discussion of time in Against the Musicians
(6.61ff.). But the infinite divisibility of time is not specifically addressed there, nor, as far as
I can see, in any of Sextus’ surviving works. Blank cites 3.39 (cf. M 9.392), which argues that
it is impossible to conceive of a line as a “breadthless length”. But the issue there is the
impossibility of conceiving length in the complete absence of breadth; the infinite divisi-
bility of the line’s breadth (which might have pointed to an analogous argument concerning
time) does not enter the picture. So the forward reference does not seem to be picked up,
and this looks like a case of incomplete editing.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
there will not be a short syllable taking a short time. And if they say that
they are now calling “short” and “minimal” not the syllable that is minimal
by nature but the one that is minimal to sense perception, they are increas-
ing the impasse for themselves. [125] For we will find that the syllables
being called by them “short” are divisible to sense perception, for example
ερ. For in this case we discern by sense perception that the value of the
ε is pronounced before the value of the ρ. And switching them around, if
we say ρε, again we will apprehend that first in order is the value of the ρ,
second that of the ε. [126] Since, then, everything that has a first and
second part to sense perception is not minimal to sense perception, and
the grammarians’ “short syllable” is revealed as having a first and second
part, there cannot be a syllable that is minimally short to sense percep-
tion. Musicians will perhaps be able to bequeath us certain irrational
times and lengthenings of sounds. But for the grammarians, who do not
have a place for such deep infinity, but only¹¹⁸ divide the syllable, as a
type, into short and long, making allowances is not justified. The short
syllable, then, is non-existent.
[127] Then again, the long syllable will also be non-existent; for they
say that it is two-timed,¹¹⁹ but two times do not exist together with one
another. For if they are two, they are determined as being two by one of
them being present and the other not; but if one is present and the other
is not present, they do not exist together with one another. [128] For this
reason, if the long syllable is two-timed, it ought to be the case that, when
its first time is present, its second is not present, and when the second
comes along, the first is no longer. But since its parts do not exist
together, the whole does not subsist—some part of it does. But its part
is not itself, since in that case the long syllable will not differ from the
short. Therefore there is not any long syllable either. [129] But if they say
that the long syllable is conceived in virtue of simultaneous recollection
(where by remembering the sound spoken before and apprehending the
one now being spoken, we conceived what is composed of both as a long
syllable)—if they say this, they will be agreeing that such a syllable is
¹¹⁸ Blank and Pellegrin et al., following Harder, retain auto before monon. This may well
be correct, but the sense is unaffected.
¹¹⁹ “Two-timed” here means “taking up two units of time”; contrast [105]ff., where the
same word means “capable of being either long or short”.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
none other than non-existent. [130] For if it subsists, it subsists either in

the sound pronounced before or in the one pronounced after. But neither
in the one pronounced before nor in the one pronounced after; for since
each of them does not subsist on its own,¹²⁰ it is not a syllable at all; so
that it does not subsist, and if it does subsist, it is a short, not a long
syllable. Nor does it subsist in both; for when one of them subsists, the
other does not subsist, and from what exists and what does not exist it is
not possible to conceive anything being put together as from parts.
Therefore there is not any long syllable.
D . GENERAL PROBLEMS WITH THE PARTS OF DISCOURSE (131–41)
[131] Analogous to these are the impasses that have to be confronted

about the word and the parts of discourse.¹²¹ For first, as we showed a
little earlier,¹²² if there is not syllable, it is not possible for there to be
word either; for words get their subsistence from syllables. And then,
following the same approach, it will be possible to operate the same
impasses treating the word itself as the main target. For either it is a
syllable or it consists of syllables; but whichever it may be, it will be
faced with the impasses that we laid out in the case of the syllable. [132]
Nevertheless, so that we don’t seem to have run out of ¹²³ new methods
of refutation, we should have something to say to the grammarians
here too.
¹²⁰ That is, the two of them, being connected through being “before” and “after” one
another, exist only in relation to one another, and hence neither exists in a free-standing
fashion—which would be necessary in order to be counted (by itself, as currently under
consideration) as the syllable.
¹²¹ Lexis, here translated “word”, can also refer to speech or expression more generally
(e.g. [8], [59]). But it seems most natural to take Sextus to be referring to the next linguistic
units up from syllables (as at [123]). The examples in the following discussion support this;
and “the parts of discourse” (ta tou logou merê) then amount to the same thing (note that
“and” (kai) in Greek can sometimes connect phrases of which the second is explanatory of
the first, rather than introducing something additional). Lexis is distinguished from logos in
that the latter, but not the former, must be meaningful; lexis is defined as “speech as written”
or “articulable speech” (phônê engrammatos, cf. [100]), and logos as “significant voice that
issues from thought”; see Diogenes Laertius 7.56, summarizing the Stoic Diogenes of
Babylon, and see Blank, 151–2 for further details on the history of these terms.
¹²² See [123].
¹²³ Aporein, a verb corresponding to aporia, translated (in the previous sentence and
generally) by “impasse”. Aporein, or to be in a state of aporia, is to lack resources for the task
at hand, or to have nowhere to turn.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
When they speak of certain parts of discourse, such as name, verb,

article, and so on, where do they take these from?¹²⁴ Either they speak of
these as being the whole discourse, or of these as parts of it. But if it can
neither be conceived as a whole, nor these as its parts, <. . .>.¹²⁵ But let us
take the examples that contribute to their hypothesis, so that we are not
at a distance from the theories of grammar. [133] Let’s suppose, then,
that the entire discourse is this line:
Mênin aeide, thea, Pêlêiadeô Achilêos¹²⁶
And that its parts are these: mênin [“wrath”], which is an appellative;¹²⁷
aeide [“sing”], an imperative verb; thea [“goddess”], again a feminine
¹²⁴ Sextus discusses parts and wholes at greater length in Against the Physicists
(M 9.331–51); see Blank, 170–4 for an analysis of how the arguments in the present passage
draw on this longer discussion (and see also the list of parallels between this and other
works of Sextus at the end of the volume).
¹²⁵ Mau follows Mette in positing a lacuna at this point, and offers the supplement “there
will not be discourse or its parts either”. If we do not posit a lacuna, the present sentence
would have to be understood as a phrase tacked on to the end of the previous sentence:
“when it can neither be conceived as a whole, nor these as its part”. This is how Bury
understands it, but it is syntactically quite awkward.
¹²⁶ “Sing, goddess, of the wrath of Achilles son of Peleus”, the first line of the Iliad. Since
Sextus’ argument in the following sections depends on detailed examination of the Greek
words, there is no point in translating the whole line into English in the main text. I do,
however, give the English for each Greek word individually below, since the word order
differs in the two languages.
¹²⁷ Or common noun. The appellative (prosêgoria) is defined by the Stoics as “a part of
speech signifying a common quality” (Diogenes Laertius 7.58). It is normally used to refer
to common nouns—as opposed to proper nouns—and this is how Sextus uses it here and
in [238], the only occurrences of the word in this book. But the Greek grammarians never
made a sharp divide between nouns and adjectives, and so “appellative” could sometimes be
used to apply to adjectives as well—as the Stoic definition above might lead one to expect.
Onoma, “name” is sometimes used to refer to proper nouns, resulting in a clear contrast
between “name” and “appellative”; see [239] below for a case of this. But grammarians
generally used onoma more broadly to cover all nouns (and adjectives as well), classifying
appellatives as one subspecies of them; see, e.g., Dionysius of Thrace, Ars Grammatica
1.1.23 for an explicit mention of this, and 1.1.24 for the great variety of “names”, including
appellatives and numerous different types of (what we would call) adjectives. Notice that
Sextus’ own treatment of “names” in [142]–[154] conforms to this broader usage—all the
examples are common nouns; cf. also [222]–[223], where an adjective appears as an
example of a “name”. Note too that even the term “proper name” (kurion onoma) in
this section, though of course referring to a name in the narrower sense, in effect employs
this broader usage, since it implies that there are other kinds of names. (For us, the
“proper” in “proper name”, though the phrase is still in use, is more or less redundant; this
cannot be said of the Greek equivalent.) In this note I am greatly indebted to the expert
advice of Ineke Sluiter.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
appellative; Pêlêiadeô [“son of Peleus”], a patronymic name; and in

addition to these Achilêos [“of Achilles”], a proper name. [134] Well
then, either the discourse is something else beyond its parts and the parts
are other than the discourse, or the collection of the parts is taken to be
the discourse. And if the discourse is something other than the parts,
then when the parts of the discourse now on display are taken away, it is
clear that the discourse will be left behind. But the line mentioned above
is so far from remaining when all its parts are taken away that even if we
took away any one part of it, such as mênin or aeide, the line no longer
exists. [135] But if the collection of the parts of the discourse is conceived
as the discourse, by the collection’s being nothing beyond the things
collected just as the distance is nothing beyond the things at a distance,
the discourse of which any parts will be conceived will be nothing. But if
the whole discourse is nothing, there will not get to be any parts of it
either. Just as if there is not a left, nor is there a right, so if there is no
discourse as a whole, nor will the parts exist. [136] And in general, if they
think of the collection of the parts of the discourse as the whole dis-
course, they will find themselves saying that the parts of the discourse are
parts of one another. For if beyond them there is no underlying whole, of
which they will get to be parts, they will be parts of one another. Let’s
look at how very irrational this is. [137] The parts are definitely con-
tained in those things of which they are said to be parts, occupying their
own place and having their own subsistence; they are not contained in
one another. For example, hands are parts of a human being, fingers of
hands, and nails of fingers. For this reason hands are contained in a
human being, fingers in hands, and nails in fingers, and the right hand
does not complete the left, or the forefinger round off the thumb, or the
head compose the feet and the feet the chest. [138] Hence too the parts of
the discourse cannot be said to be parts of one another, since then they
will have to be contained in one another—mênin in aeide, aeide in thea,
and in general all of them in all, which is impossible. So, since the parts of
the discourse cannot be parts of one another, because of the inconceiv-
ability of the matter, nor is any whole discourse found that is beyond its
own parts, no object being found beyond the parts themselves of which
we may say that they are the parts, it remains to say that there is no part
of discourse. And for this reason nor is there discourse.
[139] This is also a way to proceed: if mênin is a part of the line, it is
either a part of the whole line or of aeide thea Pêlêiadeô Achilêos. But if it
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
is a part of the whole line, then since the whole is conceived along with
mênin itself, mênin will become a part that is such as to complete itself.
And for this reason it will be both greater and less than itself—greater
than itself in so far as it is completed by itself (for what is completed by
something is greater than what completes it), and less in so far as it
completes itself; for what is such as to complete something is less than
what is completed. But this is just not plausible; therefore mênin is
not a part of the whole line. [140] Then again, nor is it a part of what
is left over, I mean aeide thea Pêlêiadeô Achilêos. For, first, the part is
contained in what it is a part of, but mênin is not contained in aeide
thea Pêlêiadeô Achilêos, so that it cannot be a part of it. Next, aeide thea
Pêlêiadeô Achilêos is not even in need of completion; for it is complete
according to its own account. But the whole discourse, I mean the line, is
not aeide thea Pêlêiadeô Achilêos; so mênin is not a part of this either. But
if mênin is a part neither of the whole line nor of the part left over, and
beyond these nothing else is there, mênin is not a part of any discourse.
[141] These are things to be said more generally against the parts of
discourse; but when we get into their particular expert discourse about
these things, we will find a lot of nonsense. And we are in a position to
learn this without having traversed the entire material (for it is babble,
full of grammatical old wives’ talk), but after doing something like what
wine-sellers do: in the same way as they check the whole cargo from a
small taste, so too we, after handling one part of discourse, i.e. the name,
will have a perspective, from their expert discourse about this, on the
grammarians’ aptitude in the others too.
E . NAMES : PROBLEMS CONCERNING THEIR GENDER

AND NUMBER (142–54)
About the name

[142] For a start, when they say that some names are by nature mascu-
line, some feminine, and some neuter, and that some are singular in
number, some dual,¹²⁸ and some plural, and right away join to these their
other divisions, let us investigate what this addition “by nature” may
¹²⁸ Besides singular and plural, Ancient Greek had an additional inflection for dealing
with pairs of things. But it was not often used even in classical times, and by Sextus’ time
was obsolete except in writing that deliberately harked back to earlier language.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
amount to. [143] They say that some names are “by nature” like this, and
others like this, either because those who first called out the names made
their utterance of them naturally, like screaming in pain or shouting in
pleasure or amazement; or because even in the present each of them
naturally gives us the impression of being masculine, even if we do not
think that it is masculine, and again it naturally indicates that it is
feminine, even against our will. [144] However, they would not say the
first. For how did grammatical thick-headedness come to discern
whether names are by nature or by fiat, or some this way and the other
that way,¹²⁹ when it is not easy to say even for those who have reached
the pinnacle of argument about nature,¹³⁰ because of the equal argu-
ments on either side? [145] Above all, there is a strong argument set in
opposition to this, against which the grammarians, even if they can
survive the proverbial catapult,¹³¹ will not be able to find anything that
hits the mark.¹³² For if names were by nature and did not signify by fiat
in each case, we would all have to understand everyone—Greeks under-
standing barbarians, barbarians Greeks, and barbarians barbarians. But
this is not so; therefore names do not signify by nature. So that they will
not say this; [146] but if they say that some happen to be like this and
others like that because each name naturally displays that it is masculine
or feminine or neuter, let them know that they are rubbing their collar
smoother.¹³³ [147] For again we will say that what moves us by nature
¹²⁹ With Blank (and Fabricius) I understand a comma at this point. Bekker, Bury, and
Mau all print a question mark, but this leaves the following “when” clause without an
accompanying main clause.
¹³⁰ Or “reasoning, theorizing about nature” (phusiologia); I translate “argument about
nature” to preserve the etymological link (surely intended) with “equal arguments” (iso-
logias) in the next clause. Sextus’ point is that natural scientists, if anyone, and certainly not
grammarians, would be the ones to make pronouncements about what is the case “by
nature”. The difficulties he has in mind concerning “equal arguments” even in the area of
natural science are explored in much more detail in Against the Physicists (M 9–10) and the
physical portion of Outlines of Pyrrhonism (PH 3.1–167).
¹³¹ Blank, 180, says (and I cannot fault this), “I know of no other reference to this phrase
as a proverbial saying”. However, it fits with Sextus’ own periodic siege imagery; see [40],
also PH 2.84, M 9.2.
¹³² Or “anything suitable” (hiknoumenon). But the verb of which this is a participle can
be used of a spear hitting its target, and I prefer to see this as a continuation of the metaphor
of combat.
¹³³ The “collar” in question was a restraining collar for prisoners. The metaphor is clearly
meant to evoke getting into yet deeper trouble, but what exactly the “rubbing smoother”
was, and how it made things worse (presumably tighter), are obscure; there appears to be no
clear parallel. Blank’s less literal “they are only tightening the noose around their own
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
moves everyone in the same way, not some in one way and others in the
opposite way. For example, fire warms by nature—barbarians, Greeks,
regular people, and those with experience; it does not warm Greeks and
chill barbarians. And snow chills by nature; it does not chill some people
and warm others. So that what moves by nature moves those with no
interference to their senses in the same way. [148] But the same names
are not the same for everyone, but are masculine for some, feminine for
others, and neuter for others. For example, Athenians speak of the jar
[tên stamnon] in the feminine, while Peloponnesians speak of the jar [ton
stamnon] in the masculine;¹³⁴ and some speak of tên tholon, others of ton
tholon [“rotunda”], and some of tên bôlon, others of ton bôlon [“lump”].
[149] This is not a reason for calling either one group or the other
mistaken; each one’s usage is as it has determined it. Besides, the same
people speak the same names differently, sometimes in the masculine
and sometimes in the feminine, saying ton limon and tên limon [“fam-
ine”]. Therefore it is not by nature that some names are masculine and
some feminine; it is by a determination that some come to be of one
kind and others the other. [150] Then again, if some names were by
nature masculine and others feminine, masculine natures ought always
to be called by masculine names and feminine natures by feminine
names, and those with natures that are neither masculine nor feminine
in the neuter. [151] But this is not so: we speak of masculine natures in
the feminine, feminine ones in the masculine, and those that are neither
masculine nor feminine either in the masculine or in the feminine,
not in the neuter. For example, korax [“raven”], aetos [“eagle”], kônôps
[“gnat”], kantharos [“dung beetle”], skorpios [“scorpion”], and mus
[“mouse”] are said in the masculine even in the case of the female,
and by contrast chelidôn [“swallow”], chelônê [“tortoise”], korônê
[“crow”], akris [“grasshopper”], mugalê [“shrew”], and empis [“mos-
quito”] are said in the feminine even in the case of the naturally male.
[152] In the same way klinê [“couch”] is said in the feminine when its
necks” gets the general flavor well; see his commentary, 180–1, for some further conjecture
about the meaning of the phrase.
¹³⁴ The differences of grammatical gender, here and throughout the examples in this
sentence, are signaled by the difference in the definite article—feminine tên and
masculine ton.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
nature is neither male nor female, and stulos [“pillar”] in the masculine
when its nature is neuter. So if no name is by nature masculine or
feminine, I question how the grammarian will object to the person who
erroneously says ho chelidôn or hê aetos.¹³⁵ It must either be on the
basis that the name chelidôn is by nature feminine, and he is forcing it
with the article¹³⁶ to become masculine, or on the basis that common
usage has determined it to be feminine and not masculine. [153] But if
their basis is that it is settled by nature as feminine, then since no name
is feminine by nature, as we have established, it is indifferent, as far
as this is concerned, whether it is spoken this way or that way. But if
the basis is that it has been determined by common usage as feminine,
the criterion of what is said properly or not will turn out to be not
any expert grammatical account, but simple, non-expert observation
of common usage.
[154] These same points can also be transferred to the case of singular
and plural names. The single city Athens is spoken of in the plural, and
Plataeae too;¹³⁷ by contrast, there is Thebe in the singular and Thebes in
the plural, and Mycene as well as Mycenae. But we will address more
carefully the lack of uniformity¹³⁸ in these cases as the investigation
moves forward.¹³⁹
¹³⁵ i.e. treats a feminine noun as masculine or vice versa.

¹³⁶ i.e. by applying the masculine definite article to it instead of the appropriate feminine
one.
¹³⁷ The plural-sounding “Athens” reflects the plural formation of the original Greek
name Athênai. By contrast, the second city named is generally known in English as Plataea.
This reflects an ancient Greek variant Plataia, which is singular; according to LSJ the plural
formation Plataiai is more common, but still, this really belongs with the next two cities,
which have both singular and plural names (and where in both cases the plural forms are
the usual ones in English).
¹³⁸ Anômalia, translated “anomaly” by both Blank and Bury. But an anomaly in modern
English is an oddity or exception, whereas the reference here is to the presence of two
different versions of the names (and perhaps also to the inconsistency between the plural
form of the names Athênai and Plataiai and the single cities they each denote). Cf. [236],
[240], where the corresponding adjective anômalos is used to describe inconsistent patterns
of case and tense formation with different nouns and verbs. Anômalia appears in an
important passage at the beginning of Outlines of Pyrrhonism (PH 1.12), where Sextus is
describing how the skeptical outlook first arose through observation of the “lack of
uniformity in things”; both Mates 1996 and Annas and Barnes 1994/2000 translate “anom-
aly”, which seriously obscures the point.
¹³⁹ This is never taken up. Fabricius and Bury refer to [195]ff., which has to do with a
number of grammatical irregularities, but not with the issues considered in this paragraph.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
F . DISCOURSE : PROBLEMS WITH ITS BEING EITHER CORPOREAL

OR INCORPOREAL (154–8)
But for now, since we have observed by way of examples how exact the
grammarians are in these matters, let us deal with this too, before moving
on to another topic—[155] I mean, what they call discourse and parts of
discourse.
About discourse and parts of discourse
Either they will say that it¹⁴⁰ is the corporeal utterance itself or the
incorporeal sayable,¹⁴¹ which is different from this. But they will not
say that it is the utterance; for when this has been spoken everyone hears
it, Greeks and barbarians and regular people and educated insiders; but
only Greeks and those acquainted with it¹⁴² hear discourse and its
parts.¹⁴³ So discourse and the parts of discourse are not the utterance.
[156] Then again, they are not the incorporeal sayable either. For how
can there remain any other incorporeal thing of this kind beyond body
and void, when a great deal of unending conflict has occurred about it
among philosophers? For if it is in motion, it is a body; for what is in
motion is a body. But if it is at rest, then if it receives the bodies that are
brought into it and does not resist, it will turn out to be void—for not
resisting is distinctive of void—but if it resists the things brought into it,
it is body, for resisting is a peculiar feature of body. [157] Besides, the
person who says that an incorporeal sayable exists says this either
making do with a mere assertion or employing a demonstration. But if
he makes do with an assertion, he will be held in suspense¹⁴⁴ by a
counter-assertion. If, on the other hand, he employs a demonstration,
since it too has to go forward by means of premises that are not in
dispute, and the premises are sayables, it will be untrustworthy, helping
itself beforehand to what is in question as though it was agreed. [158] For
¹⁴⁰ i.e. discourse. ¹⁴¹ Cf. [20] and accompanying note.

¹⁴² i.e. the Greek language. Sextus is of course assuming that what has been said is
in Greek.
¹⁴³ That is, only those who know Greek hear it as articulated discourse. The Greek verb
akouô, like the French entendre, can mean both “hear” and “understand”. It occurs just once
in this sentence; rather than translate it twice with different English words, I have repeated
the same word, while conscious that a little clarification may be needed.
¹⁴⁴ The Greek word is a passive form of Sextus’ normal verb for “suspend judgement”
(epechô).
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
this reason, then, if neither the utterance is discourse, nor the incorporeal
sayable signified by it, and beyond these nothing is available to conceive,
discourse is nothing.
But let’s suppose for now that there is both discourse and its parts—as
many of them as the grammarians want there to be. All right: let them tell
us how they partition discourse.
G . PROBLEMS IN HOW TO PARTITION DISCOURSE (159–68)
About partition
[159] Since the partition of verse happens to belong in two things that are
most necessary—in scansion, that is the apportioning into feet, and in
division into the parts of discourse—those making a complete counter-
argument against the grammarians should consequently attack each one:
both the method of scansion, by tripping up all their feet for scanning¹⁴⁵
as being non-existent, and also the method of apportioning the parts of
discourse, by showing the impossibility of division. [160] But since we
investigate feet as a main topic in Against the Musicians,¹⁴⁶ so as not to
anticipate what is going to be said against them or say the same things
twice, we will put off this impasse to the appropriate time. However, let’s
look at the division of the parts of discourse.
[161] Someone who partitions a line subtracts some things and adds
others. He subtracts mênin, let’s say, separating it from the whole line, and
again aeide and the rest of the parts;¹⁴⁷ but he adds to what is pronounced
with elision—for example, a to aim’emeôn [“vomiting blood”],¹⁴⁸ for in
full it was aima emeôn, and again e to bê d’akeôn [“he went silently”],¹⁴⁹ for
when filled out it was like this: bê de akeôn. However, since nothing can be
¹⁴⁵ The tripping metaphor has further resonance in the original. Not only the “feet” are
involved (in Greek as in English, the same word is used for the metrical unit and the body
part); the primary meaning of bainô, the word for “scan”, is “walk”.
¹⁴⁶ 6.60–7. But although the argument there mentions feet, it primarily centers around
general problems concerning the existence of time. This is typical of Sextus’ preference for
general arguments—a preference shown in the present passage as well. Blank complains
(191) with some justice that here “we see Sextus at his laziest”, declining to probe a number
of real weaknesses of grammatical theory in this area. But this way of proceeding is by no
means unusual for him.
¹⁴⁷ i.e. of the first line of the Iliad; cf. [133].
¹⁴⁸ Iliad 15.11. ¹⁴⁹ Iliad 1.34.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
subtracted from anything or is of a nature to be added to anything,

grammatical partition becomes impossible.¹⁵⁰
About subtraction
[162] That nothing is subtracted from anything we may learn in this way.
If anything is subtracted from anything, either a whole is subtracted from
a whole or a part from a part or a whole from a part or a part from a
whole. Well, a whole is not subtracted from a whole; for if one line is
there, and what is subtracted is a whole, we will be subtracting the whole
line. Thus if the line from which there was the subtraction still remains,
no subtraction from it will have occurred at all; for how can the whole
still remain, if it has been subtracted? But if it does not remain, it is clear
that, again, no subtraction has occurred from what is not. So that a whole
is not subtracted from a whole. [163] But not a whole from a part, either.
For the whole is not contained in the part—for example, mênin aeide,
thea, Pêlêiadeô Achilêos is not contained in mênin—but what is sub-
tracted has to be contained in what receives the subtraction. Therefore it
is left either for a part to be subtracted from a whole or a part from a part.
But this too is intractable. For if mênin is subtracted from the whole line,
it is also subtracted from itself; for the whole line was conceived along
with it. Besides, if it is subtracted from a whole, and the whole was mênin
aeide, thea, Pêlêiadeô Achilêos, then aeide, thea, Pêlêiadeô Achilêos too
ought to have been lessened and not to have remained in the same state,
since everything that receives subtraction does not remain in the same
state. [164] And mênin itself, if it gets subtracted from that whole,¹⁵¹
would have to have something from each of the things in it, which is
again false. If, then, it is not possible either to partition a whole line from
a whole, or a part of a line from a part, or a whole from a part, or a part
¹⁵⁰ Arguments against subtraction and addition reappear at 4.23–33, applied to num-
bers; see also the list of parallels between this and other works of Sextus at the end of the
volume.
¹⁵¹ I take “that whole” to refer to the reduced whole aeide, thea, Pêlêiadeô Achilêos—which,
from another point of view, is itself a part. Here, then, is where Sextus addresses the final
option “a part from a part”. I therefore accept Blank’s proposal (191–4) that (contrary to some
scholars, and against initial appearances) all four options are in fact considered in this passage,
albeit in a confusing and far from lucid fashion. Blank’s discussion also contains a very helpful
analysis of the relations between this passage and the (also not perfectly clear) treatments of
subtraction in Against the Physicists and Outlines of Pyrrhonism.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
from a whole, and it is not possible to conceive¹⁵² anything beyond these,

partition is impossible for the grammarian.
About addition
[165] Furthermore, there will not be the addition of something, as
applied to words pronounced with elision. And this will be clear if the
argument is run not using syllables or elements, which are the things
the grammarians most make additions of in their partitions, but whole
words. So, if the half-verse aeide, thea, Pêlêiadeô Achilêos is there (for
present purposes let this be a half-verse, and let mênin be added, so that
we get the heroic verse¹⁵³ from both) we ask to what the addition occurs?
[166] For mênin is added either to itself or to the half-verse that was there
before, or to the heroic verse completed from both. And it cannot be
added to itself; for not being other than itself, and not doubling itself, it
cannot be said to be added to itself. But how is it possible for it to be
added to the half-line that was there before? If it is added to the whole of
it and itself made equal to it, it will become a half-line, [167] and in this
way it will follow that we say that the long half-line is actually short, since
it is made equal to the short mênin, and the short long, since it extends as
far as the longer half-line, if mênin is added to the entire half-line. <But if
to a part of it>, such as aeide, and if it will only increase aeide, but not the
whole, it will <not>¹⁵⁴ make a line. It remains, then, to say that it is added
to the heroic hexameter line completed from both, mênin itself and the
half-line that was there before. [168] Which is completely implausible;
for what receives an addition is there before the addition—what comes
into being out of the addition is of course not there before it. Therefore
¹⁵² I accept Blomqvist’s (1968, 78) correction of the mss. poiein, read by Mau and
previous editors, to noein. The manuscript reading would give the meaning “it is not
possible to do anything beyond these”; this is not out of the question, but “conceive” fits
better with Sextus’ vocabulary in such cases elsewhere.
¹⁵³ That is, the (complete) hexameter line—the hexameter being the epic meter.
¹⁵⁴ I follow Harder, Giusta 1962, 431, and Blank in adding <ou>; in the Greek this ou
would be right next to the “not” in “not the whole”, which would easily explain its omission
(known as “haplography”, i.e. writing once what should be written twice). Mau instead
offers the supplement <ouk auxêsei> with to holon, giving the (virtually equivalent) sense
“if it will only increase aeide, but <will not increase> the whole, it will not make a line”.
I follow Mau’s supplement ei de merei autou at the beginning of this sentence; other
reconstructions have been offered with the same general sense. (Bury’s proposal, to take
“such as aeide” with the previous sentence and add <kai ta loipa>, “and the rest”, after it,
is considerably more strained.)
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
mênin is not added to the hexameter line that comes into being out of the
addition of mênin; for when the addition occurs, there is not yet a
hexameter, and when there is a hexameter, the addition is no longer
going on. Anyway, the task has been carried out, and since there is
neither addition nor subtraction, the method of partition mentioned
earlier is done away with.
But having again got a sense of how exact the grammarians are in
these matters, let us try out their ability in writing.
H . CORRECT WRITING : OVERVIEW AND TWO DOUBTS (169–75)
About correct writing

[169] They say that correct writing belongs in three aspects: quantity,
quality, and partition. In quantity, when we ask whether i should be
added to datives and whether chalinous [“bridles”] and ôdinas [“birth
pangs”]¹⁵⁵ should be written with just i or with ei; in quality, when we
inquire whether smilion [“scalpel”] and “Smyrna”¹⁵⁶ should be written
with z or with s; and in partition, when we are at a loss about the word
obrimos [“mighty”], whether the b is the beginning of the second syllable
or the end of the one before, or about the name Aristion, where to
position the s. [170] But again—not to bring forward any of the more
intractable points—this kind of expert discourse seems to be futile,
first because of disagreement, and also because of the results themselves.
Because of disagreement, since the experts are in conflict and will forever
be in conflict with one another, some maintaining that the same word
should be written this way, others that way. [171] Hence we should put
the question to them like this: “If expert discourse about correct writing is
useful for life, both we and each of the grammarians who disagree about it
must be in a bind about what we should write, since the disagreement over
it is as yet undecided”. [172] But neither is each of us nor each of them in a
bind, but all in agreement attain their purpose, seeing that they start out
not from that¹⁵⁷ but from some more common and agreed-upon practice,
according to which everyone, both grammarians and non-grammarians,
¹⁵⁵ I follow Blank in reading these two words as examples instead of the mss. euchalinon
and euôdinas, followed by Mau and other editors—see his commentary 198–9; chalinous
appears at Iliad 19.393, ôdinas at Iliad 11.271.
¹⁵⁶ Modern Izmir. ¹⁵⁷ i.e. from the expert discourse.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
employs the elements that necessarily have to be employed for imparting

the name, and are indifferent about the ones that are not necessary. There-
fore the guidance from the grammarians about correct writing is not
useful. [173] Well, the refutation from disagreement is like this, while
the one from the results is plain. For we are not harmed in any way
whether we write the dative case with the i or without it, or smilion and
Smyrna with s or with z, and in the case of the name Aristion, whether we
apportion the s to the syllable before or position it with the one that
follows. [174] For if, owing to being written with the s and not the z, the
smilion [“scalpel”] becomes no longer a scalpel but a sickle, and if, owing
to the positioning of the s in the name Aristion [“Breakfaster”] in this
way rather than that way, Breakfaster, as some funny-man says, becomes
Diner,¹⁵⁸ it would make sense not to be indifferent. But if the smilion
is a scalpel, however it is written, whether it begins with s or with z, and
Aristion is always Aristion, whether we partition the s with the i or
with the t, what is the use of the grammarians’ long pointless dumb-
discourse¹⁵⁹ about these things?
[175] Having gone through correct writing in a somewhat outline way,
to complete the counter-argument against their expert part¹⁶⁰ let us see
whether or not they have any organized method for producing good
Greek.¹⁶¹
I . GOOD GREEK : ORDINARY USAGE VERSUS ANALOGY (176–9)
Whether there is an expertise about good Greek

[176] That we have to give some attention to purity in our language is
plain from the start; for the person who is always committing barbarisms
or solecisms is laughed at as uneducated, whereas the one who speaks
¹⁵⁸ Aristion was a real name, which looks as if it is etymologically related to the word for
breakfast (ariston). According to Blank, 201 there is no evidence of Diner (Deipnion) as a
name, and the joke is not otherwise recorded.
¹⁵⁹ Môrologia, “stupid talk”. This is the only occurrence of this word in Sextus, although
it is not unheard of in other authors; Sextus has chosen it as a play on technologia, the
“expert discourse” on which the grammarians pride themselves.
¹⁶⁰ Cf. [91].
¹⁶¹ Hellênizein, a verb formed from “Hellenic”, i.e. Greek. Especially in grammatical
contexts, but also frequently elsewhere, it (and the associated noun hellênismos, which
appears in the title just below) refers to the speaking or writing of pure or correct Greek.
See Blank, 201–4 on the importance of this as a part of ancient grammar.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
good Greek is competent to set forth clearly and precisely what he thinks
about things. Now there are two varieties of good Greek: one is distinct
from our common usage and seems to proceed in terms of grammatical
analogy, but the other is in line with the usage of each of the Greeks and
is conducted by modeling¹⁶² and observation in everyday talk. [177] For
example, the person who forms Zeos, Zeï, Zea as the oblique cases of the
nominative Zeus has spoken in line with the first type of good Greek, but
the one who in an unsophisticated way¹⁶³ says Zênos, Zêni, and Zêna has
spoken in line with the second type, to which we are more accus-
tomed.¹⁶⁴ Well, since there are two kinds of good Greek, we say that
the second is useful for the reasons given before, but the first is useless
for the following reasons. [178] Just as in a city when a certain coinage is
local tender, the person who settles for this is able to do his business in
that city without obstacles, whereas one who does not accept this and
mints some novel one for himself and wants this to be accepted as valid¹⁶⁵
has a silly situation, so too in life, the person who does not wish to follow
the everyday usage that is commonly accepted, like coinage, but to carve
out a private one for himself is nearly insane. [179] For this reason, if the
grammarians promise to pass on some expertise, the so-called “analogy”,
by means of which they compel us to speak according to that sort of good
Greek, it must be shown that this expertise does not hold together, and
that those who wish to speak correctly have to pay attention to non-
expert and unsophisticated observation that is in line with ordinary life
and the common usage of most people.
¹⁶² Paraplasmos. The word is extremely rare (and never again appears in the noun form
in Sextus), but the etymology would suggest a sense of remodeling. Given the context,
I take it that the idea is that of following the model of existing usage and creating any new
usages in conformity with it; cf. the corresponding verb paraplasometha, “we will follow as a
model”, in [208].
¹⁶³ Cf. M 10.15, where the same word (aphelôs) is used to describe a loose, everyday use
of the term “place”, with which a skeptic would be quite comfortable, by contrast with the
physicists’ technical usage.
¹⁶⁴ The name Zeus was declined in more than one way, but the second set of oblique
cases are among the forms in normal usage. By contrast, the first set never appear, although
they would seem to be more regular than the declensions that were generally recognized.
On whether any ancient grammarian actually proposed the first set—and therefore, on how
fair Sextus is being in this example—see Blank, 209–10.
¹⁶⁵ I follow Pellegrin et al. in altering the mss. toutôi to touto. If we retain toutôi, the
meaning must be something like Blank’s “wants to be accepted with it”. But the rare verb
nomisteuesthai is related to nomisma, “coinage”, and naturally seems to mean “be accepted
as the coinage”; if so, the syntax is much easier with the proposed change.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
J . GOOD GREEK : USAGE TO BE PREFERRED TO THE EXPERTISE

INVOLVING ANALOGY (180–96)
[180] If, then, there is any expertise involving good Greek, either it has
principles upon which it is constituted, or it does not. And the gram-
marians would not say that it does not have them; for every expertise
ought to take shape from some principle. But if it has them, those it has
are either expert or non-expert. And if they are expert, they are definitely
constituted either from themselves or from another expertise, and the
latter again from a third, and the third from a fourth, and so on to
infinity—so that the expertise involving good Greek comes to be without
a principle¹⁶⁶ and is not even an expertise.¹⁶⁷ [181] But if they are non-
expert, there will not be any others found beyond ordinary usage;
therefore ordinary usage becomes the criterion of what is Greek and
what is non-Greek—not some additional expertise involving good Greek.
[182] Besides, if some expertises, like sculpting and painting, are in fact
expertises, but others, like the Chaldaean one and reading sacrifices,¹⁶⁸
purport to be expertises but in reality are definitely not, then in order for
us to learn whether the so-called expertise involving good Greek, too, is
just a promise or an ability that actually exists, we will have to have some
criterion for putting this under scrutiny.¹⁶⁹ [183] This criterion, then, is
again either something expert (and involving good Greek, seeing that it is
set up as capable of scrutinizing whether the expertise that judges about
good Greek judges soundly), or non-expert. But it could not be expert
about good Greek because of the infinite regress mentioned before; but if
¹⁶⁶ Or perhaps “without a starting point”; an archê may be either a principle or a literal
beginning—cf. n. 1 on book 3.
¹⁶⁷ As Blank, 215 observes, Sextus does not seem to address the first of the two
alternatives, that the principles are constituted “from themselves”. Blank suggests that
this too could be understood as vulnerable to an infinite regress. But in fact the idea of
self-sustaining principles seems more suitably attacked by another of the skeptic’s Five
Modes (see PH 1.164–77), the mode of hypothesis, according to which it will not do simply
to postulate some starting point with no basis beyond itself—or perhaps the mode of
circularity. In any case, no argument against the first alternative is given in the text as it
stands. Blank reports that Jonathan Barnes suggested that something may have dropped out
of the text; another possibility is that Sextus is being careless.
¹⁶⁸ The “Chaldaean” expertise is astrology; in book 5 Sextus consistently calls the
astrologers Chaldaeans (cf. 5.2 with accompanying note). “Reading sacrifices” was the
supposed art of divining the future from patterns of entrails revealed during sacrifices.
¹⁶⁹ Dokimasia, translated “scrutiny”, was used in the first instance of the testing of
potential office-holders to make sure that they met the legal requirements for their positions.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
the criterion is taken as non-expert, we will find none other than

ordinary usage. Therefore ordinary usage, since it judges the very expert-
ise involving good Greek, will not be in need of expertise.
[184] But if it is not possible to produce good Greek unless we learn
Greek from grammar, either this is plain and seen by itself, or more
unclear. But it is not plain, since then it would be agreed on by everyone,
like the other things that are plain. [185] Besides, for the grasping of what
is plain there is no need of expertise, just as for seeing white or tasting
sweet or touching hot.¹⁷⁰ But according to the grammarians, for produ-
cing good Greek there is need of some method or expertise. Therefore
producing good Greek is not plain. [186] But if it is unclear, then since
the unclear is made known by means of something else, either we are to
follow some natural criterion, by means of which it is discerned what is
Greek and what is non-Greek, or for the apprehension of this we are to
rely on the usage of one person, taken as producing the height of good
Greek, or on the usage of everyone. [187] But we don’t have any natural
criterion for what is Greek and what is not. For when the person from
Attica says to tarichos [“dried fish”] as Greek and the Peloponnesian
utters ho tarichos as unproblematic, and one calls it tên stamnon [“jar”]
and the other ton stamnon,¹⁷¹ the grammarian has no criterion that is
trustworthy in itself for our having to speak one way and not the other—
except, of course, each person’s usage, which is neither expert nor
natural. [188] If they say that we have to follow someone’s usage, they
will say this either by assertion alone or relying on methodical demon-
strations. But if they make an assertion, we will match it with an assertion
about having to follow the many rather than the one; and if they
demonstrate methodically that this person produces good Greek, they
will be compelled to say that that method, by which this person is shown
to be producing good Greek, is the criterion of good Greek—not this
person. [189] What is left, then, is to pay attention to the usage of
everyone. But in this case, there is need not for analogy¹⁷² but for
observation of how the many talk and what they accept as Greek or
avoid as not. But now, what is Greek is a matter of either nature or fiat.
¹⁷⁰ For the same point, cf. [23] (and see the list of parallels between this and other works
of Sextus at the end of the volume).
¹⁷¹ Again these are differences of grammatical gender in different dialects; cf. [148]–[149].
¹⁷² Cf. [176].
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
And it is not nature, since then the same thing would not have seemed to
qualify as Greek to some and as not Greek to others; [190] but if it is fiat
and human convention, the person who is most practiced and immersed
in ordinary usage is the one who produces good Greek, not the one who
understands analogy. Actually, it is possible to establish in another way
that we don’t need grammar to produce good Greek. [191] In their
habitual conversations the many will either go against us on certain
words or they will not go against us. And if they go against us, they
will immediately correct us, so that it is from the things in place in
ordinary life, not from grammarians, that we obtain the production of
good Greek; [192] but if they are not bothered and are comfortable with
what we say as being clear and correct, we too will put up with them. And
either all people or most people or the many talk according to this
“analogy”; but it is neither all nor most nor many; for barely two or
three such people are found—most people aren’t even aware of it. [193]
Since, then, it is necessary to follow the usage of the many and not that
of the two, it has to be said that the observation of common usage is
useful for producing good Greek, not analogy. Indeed, in almost every
case of things that are useful for life, not being hampered with regard to
one’s needs is a good enough measure. [194] And so, if good Greek
has achieved acceptance especially for two principal reasons, the clarity
and the smoothness of what is presented—for it is as a follow-on to
these, from outside, that speaking metaphorically and emphatically and
according to the other modes¹⁷³ has been added—we will question from
which these come about more, from common usage or from analogy, so
as to associate ourselves with that. [195] And in fact we see that it is from
common usage rather than from analogy. Therefore it is the former, not
the latter, that should be used. For when the nominative case is Zeus, to
utter Zênos, Zêni, and Zêna as the oblique ones,¹⁷⁴ and kunos, kuni, and
kuna for kuôn [“dog”], is not only clear, but also appears to the many to
be inoffensive; and this is how it is in common usage. But from the
nominative Zeus to say Zeos, Zeï, and Zea, and to form kuônos, kuôni,
¹⁷³ Modes (tropoi) in this context are defined in Latin oratorical works as changes in the
meanings of words for artistic effect (Cicero, Brutus 69; Quintilian, Training in Oratory
8.6.1). Quintilian says that there was much disagreement about their number and how to
classify them.
¹⁷⁴ Cf. [177].
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
and kuôna from kuôn, or from the genitive kunos to maintain that the
nominative is kus, and in the case of verb forms to say pherêsô [“I will
carry”] and blepêsô [“I will look”], like kuêsô [“I will be pregnant”] and
thelêsô [“I will wish”],¹⁷⁵ seems to be not only unclear but also worthy of
laughter and even offense; [196] and this comes about from analogy. As
I said, then, it is not this but usage that is to be relied on.
K . GOOD GREEK : FURTHER UNWELCOME CONSEQUENCES

OF THE GRAMMARIANS ’ CLAIMS (196–208)
Perhaps they actually refute themselves; whether they like it or not, they
will be compelled to rely on usage and to give analogy a send-off. Let us
look at what is said next—that is, from the consequence for them. [197] For
if there is a question of how we must say it—chrêsthai or chrasthai¹⁷⁶—they
say chrasthai, and when asked for the justification for this they say that
chrêsis and ktêsis are analogous; as ktasthai is said, then, and ktêsthai
is not said, so too chrasthai will be said, definitely not chrêsthai. [198]
But if someone follows up and asks them “How do we know that this
ktasthai itself, from which we demonstrate chrasthai, is correct?”, they
will say that it is spoken in ordinary usage. But in saying this they will be
conceding that we have to attend to ordinary usage as the criterion, not
to analogy. [199] For if because ktasthai is said in ordinary usage, one
should also say chrasthai, we ought to set aside the expertise of analogy
and have recourse to ordinary usage, on which it too depends.
Then again, analogy is the juxtaposition of many similar names, and
these names are from ordinary usage, so that the construction of analogy
goes ahead from ordinary usage. [200] And since this is so, the question
should be put in this way: either you admit ordinary usage as trustworthy
for discerning good Greek or you reject it. If you admit it, the matter at
hand is concluded right away, and there is no need of analogy; but if you
reject it, then since analogy too is constructed from this, you are also
¹⁷⁵ The latter pair of these represent one of the standard ways of forming the future
tense; the first two in fact have irregular future formations, which the imagined devotee of
“analogy” is replacing by formations that fit this standard model. On the extent to which
this, and the case of kuôn, “dog” (not included with the earlier discussion of Zeus), reflect
real controversies among ancient grammarians, see Blank, 223 (cf. n. 164).
¹⁷⁶ Alternative infinitives of chraomai, “need” or “use”; the grammarians’ judgement as
to which form is correct is arrived at by analogy with the infinitive of ktaomai, “obtain”,
together with the corresponding nouns chrêsis and ktêsis.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
rejecting analogy. Again, it is absurd both to accept the same thing as

trustworthy and to decline it as untrustworthy. [201] But the grammar-
ians, wanting to reject ordinary usage as untrustworthy and again to take
it on as trustworthy, will make the same thing simultaneously trust-
worthy and untrustworthy. For in order to show that we should not talk
according to ordinary usage, they bring in analogy; but analogy is not
in a strong position if it does not have ordinary usage to confirm it;
[202] therefore, in rejecting ordinary usage by ordinary usage, they will
make the same thing simultaneously trustworthy and untrustworthy.
Unless they say that it is not the same ordinary usage that they are
simultaneously rejecting and accepting, but they are rejecting one and
accepting another—which is in fact what those who follow Pindarion
say. Analogy, they say, admittedly starts out from ordinary usage; for it is
the contemplation of similar and dissimilar, [203] and the similar and
dissimilar are grasped from approved ordinary usage, and what is
approved and most ancient is the poetry of Homer; for no poem older
than his poetry has come down to us; therefore we will talk following the
ordinary usage of Homer. [204] But first, it is not agreed by everyone that
Homer is the most ancient poet; for some say that Hesiod came before
him in time, also Linus and Orpheus and Musaeus¹⁷⁷ and a great many
others. Indeed, it is plausible that there were some poets before him and
at his time, since he himself says somewhere
People give more praise to the song
Which is the newest one around to the listeners,¹⁷⁸
and that these were put into obscurity by his brilliance. [205] And even if
Homer is agreed to be the most ancient, nothing that Pindarion has said
is on point. For just as we were in an impasse earlier about whether¹⁷⁹
one should employ ordinary usage or analogy, so too we will now be in
an impasse as to whether to employ ordinary usage or analogy, and if
ordinary usage, whether Homer’s or that of the rest of humanity—
towards which nothing has been said. [206] And then, above all we
have to follow that ordinary usage the employment of which will not
¹⁷⁷ These three were mythical poets—which did not stop actual poems from being
attributed to the latter two, especially Orpheus, in antiquity.
¹⁷⁸ Odyssey 1.351–2.
¹⁷⁹ I follow Blomqvist 1968, 78 in reading poteron pote rather than Mau’s reading
poteron te; the manuscripts are divided.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
get us laughed at; but if we follow Homer’s usage, the good Greek we
produce will not be free from laughter, when we say marturoi¹⁸⁰ and
sparta leluntai¹⁸¹ and other things even more absurd than these. So this
argument is not sound either, together with the fact that it agrees with
what we were maintaining—that is, not to use analogy. [207] For what is
the difference whether we go to the ordinary usage of the many or to that
of Homer? For just as in the case of the usage of the many there is need of
observation, but not of expert analogy, so too in the case of Homer’s;
after ourselves observing how he habitually speaks, we too will speak in
that way. [208] In sum, just as Homer himself did not use analogy but
followed the ordinary usage of the people of his time, so too we will
definitely not pay attention to an analogy that has Homer as its author-
ity,¹⁸² but will follow as a model¹⁸³ the ordinary usage of the people of our
own time.
L . GOOD GREEK : DIFFICULTIES IN THE DEFINITIONS

OF BARBARISM AND SOLECISM (209–16)
[209] The irrelevance of analogy, and the usefulness of observing ordin-

ary usage, for good Greek has just been concluded, then, from what
follows against the grammarians;¹⁸⁴ but perhaps it will be clear from
what they say.¹⁸⁵ [210] For in defining barbarism and solecism they say
“barbarism is a lapse against common usage in a single word” and
“solecism is a lapse in terms of the whole construction that is anti-
usage and inconsistent”. [211] Against which we can immediately say:
¹⁸⁰ “Witnesses”; the standard form in Sextus’ day was martures.

¹⁸¹ “The ropes were loosened.” In ancient Greek a neuter plural subject, as in this case,
was normally followed by a singular verb, not a plural verb as here; the expected form would
be lelutai instead of leluntai.
¹⁸² I follow Blomqvist 1968, 79–80 in reading ouk analogiai pantôs <pros>exomen
bebaiôtên echousêi Homêron. The manuscripts have analogian and hexomen; Mau alters
to analogias and hexometha and changes echousêi to echousê<s>. As Blomqvist says, the
general sense is clear; the challenge is to get well-formed Greek, in terms of both syntax and
sense, with the minimum of change to the manuscripts.
¹⁸³ Cf. [176] and accompanying note.
¹⁸⁴ That is, from what follows from the grammarians’ own arguments and works against
them; cf. [196].
¹⁸⁵ Blank follows a suggestion of Bekker and adds kai before ek tôn rêtôn, giving the
sense “perhaps it will be also clear from what they say”; this certainly makes for a neater
transition. Pellegrin et al. seem to take isôs in the sense “equally”, rather than “perhaps”,
presumably with the same goal; but “perhaps” is what it generally means in Sextus, and its
position in the sentence seems to support this as well.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
“but if barbarism is in a single word and solecism in a combination of

words, and it was shown earlier that there is neither any single word nor
a combination of words,¹⁸⁶ nothing is a barbarism or a solecism”.¹⁸⁷
[212] Again, if barbarism is conceived in one word and solecism in a
combination of words, but not in the underlying objects, how was I in
error if I say “he” but indicate a woman, or “she” but indicate a young
man? I did not commit a solecism; for I did not utter a combination of
multiple words that do not fit together, but the single word “he” or “she”.
[213] Nor did I commit a barbarism; for the word “he” has nothing that
is not customary, as do the Alexandrians’ elêluthan and apelêluthan.¹⁸⁸
However, it is possible to say many things of this kind against the
grammarians; [214] but so as not to seem to be bringers of impasse on
everything,¹⁸⁹ we will return to the original purpose and say that if
barbarism is a lapse against common usage observed in one word, and
similarly solecism gets its subsistence in multiple words, and if trapeza is
a barbarism because the verb is not in ordinary use,¹⁹⁰ and “having
walked a lot my legs are worn out”¹⁹¹ is a solecism because of not
being said in common usage, it is agreed that the expertise of analogy
¹⁸⁶ See especially [121]–[140].

¹⁸⁷ Or “barbarism or solecism is nothing”, i.e. neither exists.
¹⁸⁸ “They came” and “they went away”. The normal endings would be -thasi rather
than -than. On the historicity of this linguistic trend in later antiquity, see Blank, 237 (who,
however, observes that it was not confined to Alexandria).
¹⁸⁹ Why would Sextus not wish to appear so? Skepticism is defined in Outlines of
Pyrrhonism (1.8) in a manner quite unrestricted as to subject matter, and the general
characterization at [6], in the introduction to this work, is quite consistent with this. On the
other hand, Sextus does elsewhere show a disinclination to dwell on fine details, preferring
approaches that encompass an entire subject matter; cf. [40] with accompanying note.
¹⁹⁰ Trapeza (“table”) is normal as a noun. Editors have altered to trapesa, which looks
as if it has a verb-like ending, but is not easy to assimilate (even as a non-standard usage)
to any known Greek verbs. But Pellegrin et al. retain trapeza and conjecture that Sextus is
imagining it as the imperative of a non-existent verb trapezaô; there is in fact a verb
trapezoô (“put on a table”, and so “offer to a god”), and this could be understood as a
hypothetical alternative. (Mau keeps trapeza but marks it as corrupt.) With some
hesitation I follow their lead; however, the actual example is not important to the general
point being made.
¹⁹¹ The syntactic error, known today as a dangling participle, is more obvious in Greek
than in English; the participial phrase polla peripatêsas (“having walked a lot”) is in the
nominative masculine singular, which connects with nothing else in the sentence; it is
clearly meant to apply to the person, but the person is referred to only in the genitive mou,
“my”, or literally “of me”. (In the sentence as I render it in English one might understand
the legs, rather than the person, as having done the walking, which would avoid the
solecism; but in Greek this is clearly not an option.)
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
is an empty name as regards not committing barbarisms or solecisms,

and that we have to observe ordinary usage and speak consistently with
it. [215] For if they switched seats and said that barbarism is simply a
lapse in a single word, without adding “against common usage”, and
solecism is a lapse in terms of the whole construction and inconsistent,
without including “anti-usage”, they will stir up even worse business for
themselves. For they will have things like this, which are inconsistent in
terms of the whole construction: “Athens is a fine city”, “Orestes is a fine
tragedy”, “the council is the six hundred”.¹⁹² We will have to call these
solecisms, but they are actually not solecisms given ordinary usage. [216]
Therefore solecism is not to be judged purely by consistency, but by
ordinary usage.
M . GOOD GREEK : FURTHER DIFFICULTIES WITH ANALOGY

OR “ TRANSITION IN VIRTUE OF SIMILARITY ” (216–20)
It would be good, after the objection from what follows against them¹⁹³
and from what they say, to embarrass them further by appeal to transi-
tion in virtue of similarity.¹⁹⁴ [217] For if they are set up as theorists of
similarity, since being hit on the nose or in the stomach is analogous to
being hit on the shin, and the latter is called “shinning”, analogously
<they would have to say> “stomaching” or “nosing”;¹⁹⁵ and the same is to
¹⁹² The problems here involve a lack of strict grammatical agreement between the subject
and the complement: “Athens” (Athênai) is plural (cf. [154]) and “fine city” (kalê polis) is
singular; “Orestes” is masculine and “fine tragedy” (kalê tragôidia) is feminine; and “council”
(boulê) is feminine singular and “six hundred” masculine plural. All these expressions are in
fact sanctioned by common usage, but if (as grammarians are currently imagined as doing)
one relies solely on the criterion of consistency, with no reference to usage, they will qualify
as solecisms.
¹⁹³ Cf. [209].
¹⁹⁴ A method associated especially with the Empiric school of medicine, by which one
applies one’s experience of some cases to others that one has not previously encoun-
tered, but that appear similar to the first. For a good, clear sketch of the Empiric
approach to medicine, including this method, see Galen, On the Sects for Beginners,
chapter 2 Helmreich, translated in Frede 1985. It is not really clear what is accom-
plished, by appealing to this method, that is not already accomplished by appealing to
the grammarians’ acknowledged commitment to analogy (which was already said to be
based on similarity and the lack of it, cf. [199], [202]); and by the end of [217] Sextus
reverts to the language of analogy. This is one of several problematic features of the
present paragraph.
¹⁹⁵ There seem to be some words missing from the text, and Mau marks a lacuna; I have
added the minimum words needed to complete the sentence. Blank conjectures that more
text may be lost, and that this may explain the obscurity in the following train of thought.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
be noted in the case of “horsing” and “cliffing” and “sunning”.¹⁹⁶ But we

do not say these things because they go against common usage; so nor do
we say luêsô or pherêsô¹⁹⁷ and all the others that ought to be said
according to analogy, because they are not spoken in line with common
usage. [218] And actually, if we say that the best Thracian speaker is the
one who speaks as is ordinary among the Thracians, and the best Latin
speaker the one who speaks as ordinarily among the Romans, it will
follow that the person who speaks as ordinarily among Greeks speaks
sound Greek, if we follow ordinary usage and not their prescription.
Therefore we produce good Greek by following ordinary usage, not
analogy. [219] And in general, analogy is either in tune or out of tune
with ordinary usage. And if it is in tune, then first, since the latter is not
expert, neither will the former get to be an expertise; for what is in tune
with non-expertise is definitely also itself non-expert. And besides, if
what is Greek according to the latter also turns out to be Greek according
to the former, which is in tune with the latter, what is according to the
However, Sextus’ own incomplete editing may be to blame; the end of this paragraph is
unusually terse and crabbed, as is suggested by my numerous explanatory footnotes on
[219]–[220], and this is surely not due to textual difficulties alone.
The point here is that while the first verb (antiknêmiazein) does mean “hitting in the
shin” (which, while rare and a little archaic, is also a possible meaning of the English verb
“shin”), the other two verbs, though of analogous formation (gastrizein formed from gastêr,
“stomach”, and muktêrizein formed from muktêr, “nostril”), mean something quite differ-
ent from “hitting in the stomach/nose”. By coincidence, this also works in English; English
also has verbs “to stomach” (i.e. put up with) and “to nose [around]”, and their meanings
have nothing to do with hitting someone in those parts. I have therefore chosen to transfer
Sextus’ underlying point directly into English, without worrying about the actual meanings
of the Greek verbs. In fact gastrizein in Hellenistic Greek means “stuff [i.e. with food]”;
ironically, in Aristophanes it does have the meaning “hit in the stomach” (see LSJ for
examples), but Sextus is clearly not aware of this as a possible sense of the word. Muktêr-
izein means “look down one’s nose at”.
¹⁹⁶ Presumably the point is that if we follow the principle of “similarity”, these verbs, too,
which like the previous set are formed similarly from their corresponding nouns (with the
addition of the suffix -zesthai), ought to have the same semantic relationship to those
nouns, but clearly they do not. Here we have verbs based on words for horse, cliff, and sun.
Again the point works in English; there are actual English verbs “horse [around]”, “cliff”
(i.e. climb cliffs; this is very rare, but the OED does list “cliffing”), and “sun [oneself]”, and
these have nothing to do with one another. So again I have simply adopted these without
regard to the meanings of the Greek verbs (see n. 195). In the last case the Greek verb
(hêliazesthai) does in fact have the same meaning; the verb from horse (hippazesthai)
means “drive a chariot” and the verb from “cliff” (katakrêmnizesthai) means “be thrown
over a cliff”.
¹⁹⁷ Cf. [195] and note.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
latter will also be such.¹⁹⁸ [220] But if this is so, we will not need analogy
for discerning good Greek, having ordinary usage for this. But if analogy
is out of tune,¹⁹⁹ then since it brings in a different usage besides that
one²⁰⁰—a barbarous one, as it were—it will become disfavored and, as a
producer of offense, completely useless.
N . GOOD GREEK : DIFFICULTIES IN THE PURPORTED UNIVERSALITY

OF THE GRAMMARIANS ’ CLAIMS (221–7)
[221] We should also attack by appeal to the way their expertise is

constructed. Having put together certain universal theories, they want
to judge from these whether all particular names²⁰¹ are Greek or not. But
they cannot do this, because it is not conceded to them that the universal
is universal, and if it is deployed in another way²⁰² it does not keep its
nature as a universal. [222] Let us take examples for this purpose from
the grammarians themselves. If there is a question concerning some
particular name, for instance whether in the case of εὐμενής [“good-
willed”] one should pronounce the oblique case²⁰³ without the σ, saying
εὐμενοῦ, or with the σ, εὐμενοῦς, the grammarians are at hand proposing
some universal rule and on this basis settling the question. For they say
“every <non->simple²⁰⁴ name that ends in ης and is oxytone²⁰⁵ will
necessarily be pronounced with the σ in the genitive, such as εὐφυής
εὐφυοῦς, εὐσεβής εὐσεβοῦς, εὐκλεής εὐκλεοῦς; thus since εὐμενής is spoken
as oxytone like these, we should pronounce it too with the σ in the
genitive, saying εὐμενοῦς”. [223] But these marvels did not perceive, first,
that the person who thinks it right to say εὐμενοῦ will not agree with
them that the rule is universal; indeed he will say that this εὐμενής itself,
which is a <non>-simple name and oxytone, is not pronounced with the
¹⁹⁸ i.e. what accords with ordinary usage will also be acceptable Greek according to
analogy. A number of textual changes have been proposed in this unusually awkward
sentence; I follow the text of Mau, who simply adds “if” (<ei>) to the text in the manuscripts.
¹⁹⁹ i.e. with ordinary usage. ²⁰⁰ i.e. besides ordinary usage.
²⁰¹ Another instance of the broad extension of onoma, “name”, among the grammarians;
cf. n. 127.
²⁰² i.e. if it is applied less than universally. ²⁰³ i.e. the genitive.
²⁰⁴ I follow Blank in adding the negative <ouch’> here and in 223, since all the examples
here are compound adjectives with the prefix εὐ- (“good-/well-”), rather than simple ones.
This also accords better (though not perfectly) with an actual instance of such a rule from
the Canons of the fourth-century grammarian Theodosius of Alexandria (4.2.7.7–10); see
Blank, 245–6 for details.
²⁰⁵ Cf. [89] and accompanying note.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
σ, and that they are helping themselves to the point in question, as if it

was agreed. [224] Besides, if the rule is universal, they have framed it
either after going over all the particular names and spotting the analogy
in them, or not all of them. But they have not gone over all of them; for
they are infinite, and of infinite things there is no knowledge. But if some
of them, where do they get the idea that every name is like this? For what
is an attribute of some names is not an attribute of all. [225] But there are
some who (laughably) meet this point by saying that the universal rule is
derived from the majority of cases. They have not seen, first, that
“universal” is one thing and “for the most part” is another, and the
universal never deceives us, while what is for the most part²⁰⁶ occasion-
ally does; [226] and then, that even if the universal is derived from many
cases, it is definitely not true that what is an attribute of these many
names is necessarily an attribute of all those of the same form, but just as
in many other cases nature produces some things unique in form, such
as among the infinity of snakes the Horned one, which has horns,²⁰⁷
or among quadrupeds the elephant, which is endowed with a trunk, or
among fish the viviparous shark, or among stones the magnet that
attracts iron, so too it is reasonable that among many names with similar
inflexions there is some name that is not declined in the same way as
those many names. [227] Hence let us give up investigating whether it is
analogous to the many, and look at how ordinary usage deals with it—
analogously to them or according to a pattern of its own; and however it
is dealt with, we too will pronounce it like this.
O . GOOD GREEK : AN ATTEMPTED RESPONSE FROM THE

GRAMMARIANS , AND ITS FAILURE (227–40)
Well, being chased around in many different ways, the grammarians

want to turn back the impasse.²⁰⁸ [228] They say that there are many
²⁰⁶ I follow Blomqvist 1968, 80 in not adding <epi> before to polu; however, the sense is
unaffected.
²⁰⁷ The repetition is just as striking in the Greek; other translators prefer to leave kerastês in
Greek to avoid this, but while it can indeed serve as the name of this kind of snake—in fact, it
still does in modern zoology—the word simply means “horned”. The Cerastes cerastes, or
Cerastes cornutus, is a poisonous snake in North Africa and parts of the Middle East, with a
distinctive spike or horn above each eye; pictures are easy to find online. It also features in
Sextus’ account in Against the Logicians of the Stoic apprehensive impression, which is said to
differ from regular impressions as horned snakes differ from regular snakes (M 7.252).
²⁰⁸ i.e. inflict an impasse on the skeptics in return for those they have suffered.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
ordinary usages: the Athenians’ is one, the Spartans’ another, and again
the ancient usage of the Athenians is different, while the one now has
changed, and that of people in the country is not the same as that
of people who spend time in the city—which is why the comic poet
Aristophanes says
Having a middle-of-the-road city dialect
Neither uptown and girly
Nor low-down and rustic.²⁰⁹
[229] Since, then, there are many usages, they say, which shall we
employ? It is not possible to follow all of them, because they often
conflict, nor some one of them, unless one is given preference through
expertise. But we will say, first, that asking which usage to employ is
equivalent to there not being any expertise around good Greek. For
this—I mean analogy—is contemplation of similar and dissimilar;²¹⁰
but you take the similar and dissimilar from ordinary usage, and if it is
well-worn, you use it, and if not, you don’t. [230] We too will inquire,
then, from which usage you take the similar and dissimilar; for there are
many of them, often in conflict. And the response you give to this in
defending yourselves is what you will also hear from us. [231] Again,
when you say that a barbarism is a lapse against ordinary usage in a
single word, we will create an impasse in return by asking which of
them²¹¹ you mean, since there are many, and whichever you say, we will
say that we follow this one as well. [232] Although the impasse, then, is
common to us both, its solution on our side is impasse-free.²¹² For some
²⁰⁹ Fragment 706 Kassel-Austin. As Blank, 249 points out, Aristophanes here distin-
guishes three registers of speech, not two, as the grammarians apparently read him, and the
division among them is not simply city versus country.
²¹⁰ Cf. [202]. ²¹¹ i.e. which ordinary usage.
²¹² i.e. while there is no non-arbitrary way of selecting one of these usages as the correct
usage—and hence there might be said to be an “impasse” (aporia) for skeptics and
grammarians alike—skeptics have no trouble simply adopting the usage current in what-
ever context they happen to find themselves in, whereas the grammarian is trying to use his
expertise to justify a particular choice of usage, [229], and/or is trying to create an expertise
on the basis of that choice, [229]–[230], neither of which can be done without begging the
question. Thus, as Sextus twice says just above, [230], [231], the skeptic can pick whatever
usage the grammarian picks—but of course, without the grammarian’s theoretical burden.
Hence the impasse that the grammarian tries to inflict on the skeptic (who’s to say which
usage one should pick?) is not only revealed as harmless for the skeptic—since the skeptic is
not trying to justify any one usage as inherently better than any other—but is also redirected
against the grammarian.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
usages apply to the sciences and some to ordinary life. So, in philosophy
there is an acceptance of certain terms, and in medicine especially, and in
music and geometry besides, but there is also an everyday, unsophisti-
cated usage of regular people, differing among cities and peoples. [233]
Hence in philosophy we will be in line with the usage of philosophers, in
medicine with medical usage, and in ordinary life with the one that is
habitual, plain, and local. [234] This is why, even when the same thing is
said in two ways, we will try to accommodate ourselves to the people
present and say the thing that does not get laughed at, whatever its nature
may be. For example, the same thing is called artophorion and panarion
[“bread basket”²¹³], and again stamnion and amidion [“chamber pot”]
are the same, and igdis and thuia [“mortar”]. But aiming at what is
proper and clear, and at not being laughed at by the kids who serve us
and by regular people,²¹⁴ we will say panarion, even if it is foreign, not
artophorion,²¹⁵ and stamnion, not amis,²¹⁶ and thuia rather than igdis.
[235] And again, in conversation, with a view to those present, we will
put aside regular words and pursue a usage that is more refined and
scholarly; for just as scholarly usage is laughed at among regular people,
so regular usage is laughed at among scholars. Adroitly delivering what is
suitable to each occasion, then, we will be regarded as producing impec-
cable Greek.
[236] Besides, since they accuse ordinary usage of being inconsistent
and many-formed, we too will accuse them on the same basis. For if
analogy is juxtaposition of the similar,²¹⁷ and the similar is derived from
ordinary usage, but ordinary usage is inconsistent and unstable, analogy
must not have any settled rules. [237] It is possible to show this in the
case of names and verbs and participles and in general all the rest.²¹⁸
²¹³ The second of these is a transliterated Latin word; see below.

²¹⁴ I retain kai tôn idiôtôn, deleted by Mau following Harder.
²¹⁵ The mss. read artophorida; I follow Blank and LSJ in viewing this as a probable
corruption of artophorion.
²¹⁶ The word given above, amidion, is a diminutive form of this word. Blank alters to
hamis (and alters amidion to hamis above), as well as altering stamnion to skaphion, on the
basis of an example using these words (in these forms) in Pollux, Onomasticon 10.44–5.
I am not convinced that Sextus’ text should be altered for this reason; in any case, it does not
affect the point of his example here.
²¹⁷ Cf. [199].
²¹⁸ There are textual difficulties with a number of the examples in the next few sections.
I follow the text of Mau throughout, which incorporates a number of proposed corrections
to the manuscripts. Blank corrects more radically, making the first set just proper names
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
For example, in the case of names, in so far as those that are analogous
and similar in the nominative cases are formed dissimilarly and
non-analogously in the oblique ones, such as Arês, Charês, chartês
[“papyrus”]—Areôs, Charêtos, chartou; and Memnôn, Theôn, leôn
[“lion”]—Memnonos, Theônos, leontos; and Skopas, melas [“black”],
Abas—Skopa, melanos, Abantos. [238] And in the case of verbs, many
that are said similarly in the present tense are not formed analogously
in the other tenses, such as heuriskei [“finds”], areskei [“pleases”]—
hêurêken [“has found”], arêreken [“has pleased”], while some have
certain conjugations missing, and ektone is said but ektanke is not, and
one would say alêliptai, but not êleiptai.²¹⁹ And in the case of participles
boôn [“shouting”], sarôn [“sweeping”], noôn [“thinking”]—boôntos, sar-
ountos, noountos,²²⁰ and in the case of appellatives anax [“lord”], abax
[“board”]—anaktos, abakos, and graus [“old woman”], naus [“ship”]—
graos, nêos. [239] The same applies in cases like this. Archôn [“ruler”] is
said both as a name²²¹ and as the person who holds an office; but the
name becomes Archônos in the oblique case, whereas the participle
becomes archontos. And in the same way menôn [“remaining”], theôn
[“running”], and neôn²²² take different declensions when they are parti-
ciples and when they are names; the name becomes Menônos, the
participle menontos, and the name Theônos, the participle theontos.
[240] Well, it is obvious from these cases that since ordinary usage is
inconsistent, the rules of analogy are not settled, but it is necessary to
stand back from them and pay attention to the forms in ordinary usage,
letting analogy go.
(so that it no longer overlaps with the category of appellatives at the end of [238]—cf. n. 127
on these terms), and deleting other cases that seem not to add to the argument, with the
result that all the examples come in pairs. The general effect is undeniably much neater; but
neatness is not a trait that Sextus can be relied upon to exhibit, and so I am not convinced
that we should follow Blank’s lead.
²¹⁹ In each of these two cases, the second form would be the expected regular perfect
tense (in the first case of kteinô, “kill”, in the second of aleiphomai, “anoint oneself”);
however, the first form is the one actually in use—although ektone does not actually exist in
our surviving texts except in verbs formed from kteinô and a prefix, e.g. apokteinô,
“condemn to death”.
²²⁰ As with the “names” in [237], both the participles and the appellatives (cf. n. 127 on
this term) are cases where the nominatives are analogous but the genitives not.
²²¹ Onoma, “name”, here clearly refers to proper names; cf. [237] and accompanying note.
²²² LSJ lists three different verbs neô, of which this would be the participle: “swim”,
“spin”, or “pile up”.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
P . GOOD GREEK : ETYMOLOGY AS A CRITERION , AND ITS FAILURE

(241–7)
About etymology
[241] The same things are also to be said against them when they want to
judge good Greek through etymology. For again, etymology is either in
tune or out of tune with ordinary usage; and if it is in tune, it is
redundant, while if it is out of tune, it should not be used, since it
produces offense even more than barbarism or solecism. And in general,
we should bring over counter-arguments similar to the ones we delivered
earlier. [242] But more specifically, this should be said: the name that is
judged to be Greek by etymology ought either to have, in all cases,
authentic names as the ones that precede it, or to terminate in some of
the things uttered naturally.²²³ And if it is in all cases from authentic
names, since as far as this goes there will be infinite regress, etymology
will be unable to get started, and we will not know whether the name
spoken last²²⁴ is Greek, not knowing what the one from which it is first
derived was like. [243] For example, if luchnos [“lamp”] is said from luein
to nuchos [“undo the night-time”] we ought to learn whether nuchos too
is said from some Greek word, and this again from another; and in this
way, since the progression continues to infinity and the name that was
first uttered is not to be found, whether luchnos is Greek speech is also
made inapprehensible at the same time. [244] But if the name being
subjected to etymology terminates in some of the names that are not laid
down as authentic,²²⁵ then just as we will accept the ones in which it
terminates not because they are authentic, but because they are well-
worn in ordinary usage, so too we will accept the one being judged by
etymology not because of the etymology but because of ordinary usage.
²²³ The two options are as follows. The word can be traced back either to more basic
words that are themselves unimpeachable Greek roots—these are the “authentic” (etuma)
words, the ones that can ground an etymology—or to words that are in some sense naturally
correct—that is, somehow in natural conformity with what they refer to. This idea of a
natural correctness of names goes back to the period of the pre-Platonic Sophists, and is
dealt with at some length in Plato’s Cratylus; the Stoics also developed this idea in some
detail—see Allen 2005.
²²⁴ i.e. the name that is the end product of these supposed etymologies.
²²⁵ i.e. do not have unimpeachable Greek roots; see n. 223. As Blank, 256–7 notes, one
might have expected Sextus to consider (and argue against) the possibility that these words
are instead naturally correct.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
For example, proskephalaion [“pillow”] is said from têi kephalêi pros-

tithesthai [“being placed against the head”], but kephalê [“head”] and
pros [“against”], which is a preposition, are so called without authenti-
cation. [245] So just as these are trusted as being Greek without etymol-
ogy, since ordinary usage employs them, so too proskephalaion will be
trustworthy apart from etymology. In addition, sometimes the same
thing is called by two names, one allowing an etymology and the other
not open to etymology, and the authentic²²⁶ one is not for that reason
said to be Greek and the inauthentic one barbaric, but as the former is
Greek, so too is the latter. [246] For example, what we call hupopodion
[“footstool”], the Athenians and Coans call chelônis;²²⁷ but hupopodion is
authentic, whereas chelônis is not authentic,²²⁸ and the Athenians are not
for this reason said to be committing a barbarism, whereas we are
producing good Greek—both are said to be producing good Greek.
[247] So just as they are said to be producing good Greek because of
ordinary usage and not because of the authenticity of the name, so too we
will be producing good Greek because of having such a name well-worn
in our own usage and not because etymology makes it trustworthy.
That the expert part of grammar is non-existent has been sufficiently
shown from what has been said; let us move on to the historical part,
which comes next.
5. The historical part of grammar (248–69)

A . THE STATUS OF THE HISTORICAL PART WITHIN GRAMMAR ,
AND ITS SUB - PARTS (248–53)
Whether the historical part holds together

[248] That this is taken on the whole to be a part of grammar is obvious.
At any rate Tauriscus the student of Crates, who classifies grammar
²²⁶ In this sentence “authentic” (etumon) is used slightly differently from before. Earlier it was
the basic Greek roots that serve as the starting point for etymologies that were called “authentic”;
here, rather, the word seems to mean “capable of being analyzed into basic Greek roots”.
²²⁷ This word is not otherwise attested in this sense, although the related word chelônê
(whose basic meaning is “tortoise”) can mean “footstool”. See Blank, 257 for details.
²²⁸ Hupopodion would be immediately heard by any Greek speaker as dividing into
hupo- (“under”) and -pod- (“foot”) (with -ion as a diminutive suffix); chelônis has no such
identifiable sub-components.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
under criticism, like the other critics,²²⁹ says that of criticism one part is
about words, one about practice,²³⁰ and one historical: [249] about words
is the one that revolves around diction and the grammatical modes,²³¹
about practice is the one to do with the dialects and the differences in
forms and stylistic features, and historical is the one to do with the
random material that is ready for use.²³² [250] And Dionysius of Thrace,
when he says that there are six parts of grammar—which we referred to
above as basically three²³³—lists the historical part among them; for he
says that the parts of grammar are accomplished reading that conforms
to modulation,²³⁴ interpretation in terms of the poetic modes included,
accounting of words and histories, discovery of etymology, figuring out
of analogy, and judgement of poems.²³⁵ This is an absurd division;
perhaps he is making certain results and sub-parts of grammar into
parts of it, [251] and by common agreement he is taking accomplished
reading, interpretation, and judgement of poems from the contemplation
on poets and writers, etymology and analogy from the expert part, and
placing the historical part, which consists in accounting of histories and
words, in contrast to them.²³⁶ [252] Asclepiades, having said in his
On Grammar that the primary parts of grammar were three—expert,
historical, and grammatical (which connects with both, I mean the
historical and the expert)—subdivides the historical part in three; of
history he says that one kind is true, one false, and one quasi-true—the
²²⁹ Cf. [79]. On the relation of grammar to criticism in this account, and on the various
sub-parts outlined in this sentence, see Blank, 259–62.
²³⁰ The two terms here (logikon, tribikon) are also used in medical theory to distinguish
the Rational and Empirical approaches to medicine. It is not clear what connection, if any,
there is between this and their usage here; see Blank, 259–62 for comment. However, logos,
on which logikon is based, can mean “word” as well as “reason”, and the subsequent
description of what this part deals with seems to fit better with “word”.
²³¹ Cf. [194] and accompanying note. We might well think of modes in this sense as
rhetorical rather than grammatical. But clearly the conception of grammar in operation
here is much broader than ours (deriving, as Sextus made clear at the outset, from
grammata, letters—cf. [44]–[48]).
²³² i.e. by the author. The idea is that there is a wealth of basic traditional content—
stories, persons, places, etc.—that are taken by the author and worked from a state of
“random material” into literary form; and this content is the subject matter of the “histor-
ical” part of grammar.
²³³ Cf. [91]. ²³⁴ Cf. n. 100.
²³⁵ This list of six parts is very close to what we actually find in Dionysius’ Ars Grammatica,
1.1.5–6.
²³⁶ Again see [91]ff. for the three main parts assumed here.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
kind involving actual deeds being true, the one to do with fictions and
myths being false, and such things as comedy and mimes being quasi-
true.²³⁷ [253] And of the true kind there are again three parts: one has to
do with the characters—gods, heroes, and famous men—one with places
and times, and one with actions. Of the false one, that is the mythical, he
says that there is only one kind, genealogy. And he says, as does
Dionysius also, that the part having to do with obscure words is gener-
ally classified under the historical part; for it records the discovery²³⁸
that krêguon means “true” or “good”.²³⁹ The same applies, too, to the part
about proverbs and definitions.
B . THE RANDOMNESS OF THE HISTORICAL PART ’ S MATERIAL , AND

THE UNSUITABILITY OF EXPERTISE TO ADDRESS IT (253–62)
But it is obvious from this that the grammarians want the historical to be
a part of grammar. [254] For the rest, since most of them have agreed
that it is non-expert and gets going from random material, they have
released us from additional counter-argument against them; still, so as
not to pass over the topic without mentioning it, we should pose the
question in this way. Either grammar is an expertise or it is not an
expertise. And if it is not, the matter before us has been brought to
agreement²⁴⁰ right away; but if it is an expertise, then since the parts of
²³⁷ I translate Mau’s text, which reproduces the manuscripts as they stand. Several other
editors and translators have removed “fictions and” (plasmata kai) from the description of
the false type, and some have also replaced it with a reference to “fictions” under the third,
“quasi-true” type, so as to fit with the classification in [263]–[264], as well as with
Heliodorus’ classification (Commentaries on Dionysius of Thrace’s Ars Grammatica
(Lond.) 449.11–14), which, like [263]–[264], puts myth and fiction under two separate
types. It is indeed possible that this discrepancy is due to a scribe’s carelessness; but it is also
possible that the carelessness is that of Sextus himself.
²³⁸ “Records the discovery” is my attempt to render historei, the verb corresponding to
historia, usually translated “history”. Historia originally meant either “inquiry” quite
generally (not only what we would call historical inquiry), or an account of what one had
learned through such inquiry.
²³⁹ This word appears just once in Homer (Iliad 1.106), in a context that does not make it
obvious which of these meanings it had. Sextus does not offer an opinion as to which is the
correct answer, and other post-Homeric authors were divided on the matter; see Blank, 270
for details.
²⁴⁰ With less than full confidence, I read sumbebibastai as opposed to Mau’s sumbebias-
tai; the manuscripts are divided. The first has the sense “reconcile”, “bring to an agree-
ment”. The second means literally “force together”; one could perhaps understand this in
the sense “force into an agreement”, but this does not seem to fit other usages of the word,
and the scribal omission of a single letter (which already appears twice in the same word)
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
expertise are definitely expert, but the historical part has been agreed to
be random, the historical cannot be a part of grammar. [255] And that it
is in fact like this falls out almost immediately. For it is not like the case of
the doctor, who from a universal method and expert ability says that this
particular thing is healthy and this diseased, or the musician who says
that this is in tune and this out of tune, and that it is in tune in virtue of
this concord and not that one; the grammarian cannot in the same way,
from some science-based universal theory, report that Pelops’ shoulder
was made of ivory after it had been eaten by Ares or by Demeter, or that
Heracles’ head went bald because his hair fell out when he was swallowed
by the sea monster that was attacking Hesione. [256] Instead, in order to
make the exposition of these things, he has to meet with all the
particular people who record them. But to gather all the particulars
by meeting the particular people themselves is not expert. Therefore
the grammarians do not have their historical part proceed methodically
as the result of some expertise. [257] Then again, since there is one
history about places, another about times, another to do with charac-
ters, and another to do with actions, it is clear that if the accounting of
places and times is not expert, neither will that of characters or of
actions turn out to be expert; for what difference is there between
mastering the latter and the former? But explaining history about
places has nothing expert about it—saying, let’s suppose, that Brilesos
is a mountain in Attica, and also Aracynthus, and that Acamas is a
promontory on Cyprus; nor has expounding history about times, such
as that Xenophanes of Colophon was born in the fortieth Olympiad.²⁴¹
would be easily understandable. However, cf. M 10.319, where sumbebiastai appears in all
the manuscripts in a similar context; in this case editors have corrected to sumbebibastai,
but I do not think it can be ruled out that sumbebiastai is correct, this being an idiom not
otherwise recorded. In any case the basic sense of the sentence is clear enough.
²⁴¹ An Olympiad is a four-year period between Olympic games, with the original games
traditionally dated to (what we call) 776 BCE. The fortieth Olympiad is therefore 620–617
BCE. This dating is not unparalleled in the ancient sources; cf. Clement, Stromata 1.14.64.2,
citing Apollodorus. But other evidence places Xenophanes later; in the same passage
Clement cites Timaeus, a Sicilian historian, as saying that he was a contemporary of
Hiero, tyrant of Syracuse (whose rule was from 478–467), and of the poet Epicharmus
(active in the first quarter of the fifth century BCE). Diogenes Laertius (9.20, not naming his
source) also says that he “flourished” (êkmaze) in the sixtieth Olympiad, i.e. 540–537 BCE.
“Flourishing” is a somewhat vague designation; but if we take it to imply at least full
adulthood, we get a birth date no later than the 560s. These two testimonies taken together,
then, suggest a very long life, but luckily we have Xenophanes’ own words testifying that he
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
For this the person who is not a grammarian, but merely curious, will
also be able to do. [258] Nor, then, will reporting about characters and
actions turn out to be expert, for example, that Plato the philosopher
was formerly called Aristocles, and had his ear pierced and wore an
earring when he was a youth, and that Pythias, Aristotle’s daughter,
was married to three men: first to Nicanor of Stagira, who was close
to Aristotle, second to Procleus, a descendant of the Spartan king
Demaratus, who had two children with her, Procleus and Demaratus
who did philosophy with Theophrastus, and third Metrodorus the
doctor, pupil of Chrysippus of Cnidus and teacher of Erasistratus,²⁴²
who had a son Aristotle. [259] These things (and those like them),
besides being completely useless, also display no expert ability, so that
nor is the accounting of historical matters expert. In addition, as we
showed above, there is no expert knowledge either of infinite things or
of things that happen differently at different times. [260] But particular
histories are both infinite, because of the number of them, and not
stable, because the same things are not recorded²⁴³ by everyone about
the same person. For example (for it is not inappropriate to use familiar
and home-grown examples of things),²⁴⁴ the historians help themselves to
a false assumption and, not satisfied with the lie in which²⁴⁵ they say that
was still alive at the age of 92 (DK 21B8, quoted in Diogenes Laertius 9.19). In any case, this
(rough) later chronology is generally accepted, contrary to the dating Sextus mentions.
²⁴² This conflicts with other evidence from Galen (Kühn XI, 171), who names Chrysip-
pus as teacher of Erasistratus, and Diogenes Laertius, who implies the same by saying that
Erasistratus owed Chrysippus a great deal (7.186). In addition, Diogenes Laertius (5.53),
quoting Theophrastus’ will, calls the younger Aristotle son of “Medios” (also attested as a
doctor) and Pythias—at least according to the manuscripts, though these are sometimes
corrected to “Metrodorus” on the basis of the present passage. Given the minuscule
evidence, these puzzles are not likely to be solved. The details in this passage are all
extremely obscure; this is not surprising, seeing that there is no obvious context in which
anyone could regard them as worth caring about—which of course is part of Sextus’ point.
²⁴³ Again this is the verb corresponding to historia (cf. n. 238).
²⁴⁴ With other editors I treat this entire sequence of words as a parenthesis. Mau puts
only “for it is not inappropriate” (ouk atopon gar) in parentheses, and a period after the
whole string, which makes for a syntactically incomplete sentence. Presumably this is
motivated by the connective gar, “for”, that comes two words later in the manuscripts,
which suggests the start of a new sentence; I follow Blank in deleting this, although with the
convoluted sentence structure in this passage I am not sure this is really necessary.
²⁴⁵ Following Bekker’s conjecture, adopted by Giusta 1962, 431 and Blank, I transpose
<ouk arkoumenoi tôi pseusmati en hôi> from later in the sentence (where the en hôi, “in
which”, makes no sense) to this position.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
Asclepius, the founder of our science,²⁴⁶ was struck by lightning, variously

rework it. [261] Stesichorus in his Eriphyle says that he raised from the
dead some of those who had fallen at Thebes; Polyanthus of Cyrene (in his
On the Origin of the Asclepiads) that he cured the daughters of Proitus who
had gone mad to suit Hera’s anger; Panyasis because he raised up the
corpse of Tyndareus; Staphylus (in his On the Arcadians) that he treated
Hippolytus as he was fleeing Troezen according to the stories handed
down about him in tragedies; [262] Phylarchus in his ninth book because
he brought back sight to the blinded sons of Phineus as a favor to their
mother, Cleopatra daughter of Erechtheus; Telesarchus in his Argolicum
that he took on the job of raising up Orion. So, of what begins from a false
assumption and is numerous without end and is reworked according to
each person’s choice, there cannot be any expert consideration.
C . THE FALSEHOOD OF MOST OF THE HISTORICAL PART ’ S MATERIAL ,

AND THE UNCERTAIN STATUS OF THE REST — WHICH AGAIN
DISQUALIFY IT AS A SUBJECT FOR EXPERTISE (263–8)
[263] In addition to this, since of the things history deals with one part is
history, one myth, and one fiction, of which history is the exposition of
certain things that are true and took place (such as that Alexander died in
Babylon poisoned by conspirators), fiction that of things that did not
take place told like those that took place (such as comic plays and
mimes), [264] and myth is the exposition of things that did not take
place and are false (such as that the race of poisonous spiders and snakes
was brought to life “from the blood of the Titans, they tell”,²⁴⁷ and that
Pegasus jumped out of the head of the Gorgon when her throat was cut,
and that Diomedes’ companions were transformed into sea birds, or
Odysseus into a horse or Hecuba into a dog)—[265] this being the
distinction among kinds of history, since there is not any expertise
about false and non-existent things, but the things to do with myths
and fictions, which are what grammar in its historical part mainly deals
with, are false and non-existent, there cannot be any expertise to do with
²⁴⁶ i.e. medicine. Asclepius was a mythical figure, around whom many cults developed;
his two sons, also physicians, are mentioned in passing in the Iliad.
²⁴⁷ This is a quotation from a poem called Poisonous Beasts (Theriaca) (line 10) by a
Nicander of Colophon, who probably lived in the second century BCE; the entry on him in
OCD is informative. Sextus’ preceding words reproduce the general sense but not the actual
words of lines 8 and 9.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
the historical part of grammar. [266] Hence it is fair to make fun of those
who say that even if the material of history is random, the judgement of
this, through which we recognize what is recorded²⁴⁸ falsely and what
truly, will however be expert. [267] For, first, the grammarians have not
imparted to us a criterion of true history, so that we can examine when it
is true and when false. And then, since the grammarians have no true
history,²⁴⁹ the criterion of truth does not exist either; if someone says that
Odysseus was done away with in ignorance by his son Telegonus,²⁵⁰ and
someone else that he perished when a seagull dropped a stingray’s sharp
point on his head, and another that he was transformed into the shape of
a horse, how can it not be hard work to be on track to find the truth in
such crazy affairs? For one first has to establish among the conflicting
parties the one telling the truth, and then investigate what it is; [268] but
if everyone is saying things that are implausible and false, any expert
criterion is not even allowed to make its entrance.²⁵¹
D . CONCLUSION (268–9)
Then again, the grammarians do not even teach by what means history
would be nicely written, so that by reference to such rules we might say
that an expert part exists for them, the historical; for this is the job of
rhetoricians. [269] So that since they themselves agree, and we have
argued, that history is a random set of archives,²⁵² and besides, they
²⁴⁸ Historêtai; cf. nn. 238, 243.

²⁴⁹ It is not clear how Sextus thinks he is entitled to say this. In [265] he said that
grammar is mainly (malista) about myths and fictions; but even if we accept this, “mainly”
is not “entirely”, and in [263] he acknowledged the existence of an additional category of
true history. One might think that he is inferring this from the previous sentence: if the
grammarians have not given us a criterion of true history, they do not have anything they
can reliably point to as qualifying for this title. But if so, it would be odd, at best, to use this
as the starting point for a subsequent argument that there can be no criterion of truth as
applied to these matters.
²⁵⁰ Not Telemachus, Odysseus’ legitimate son who figures in the Odyssey; Telegonus was
Odysseus’ son by Circe (the name means “born far away”).
²⁵¹ Parodos, “entrance”, was used for (among other things) the entrance of the chorus in
a tragedy or comedy; I suspect Sextus intends to evoke this notion of a stage entrance, which
is appropriate to all the recent talk of fiction and myth, and heightens the sense that the
supposed criterion is itself purely fictional.
²⁵² Parapêgma can refer to a chronological record (“annals” in the plural), but it can also
mean simply “rule”, and is so used at [223]–[225], [236], [240]. Pellegrin et al. object to
understanding it here in the historical sense (assumed by Bury and Blank), because this does
not fit the kind of “history” that has been discussed above (cf. n. 238). But the “true” history
of [263], and historical details of the kind rehearsed in [258], are clearly compatible with it.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
have imparted no rule of expertise for knowing it or putting it together, it

has to be said that in terms of the historical part, too, grammar does not
hold together.
6. The special part of grammar (270–320)

A . THE CASE FOR THE VALUE OF POETRY , AND OF GRAMMAR
AS ITS INTERPRETER (270–6)
That the part of grammar dealing with poets

and writers does not hold together
[270] We have already in effect done away with the part of grammar
dealing with poets and writers, when we showed the impossibility of the
part involving rules of expertise and the historical part; for without these
no interpretation of poetry can stay straight. However, we will try to look
into what can be said more generally in this part too—especially because
the grammarians are so confident in it that they have the effrontery to
make assurances on its basis that grammar is useful for life and necessary
for happiness. At any rate they say that poetry gives many resources for
wisdom and a happy life, and that without the light of grammar it is not
possible to discern what the things in the poets amount to; therefore
grammar is necessary. [271] That poetry gives plenty of resources for
happiness is clear²⁵³ from the fact that the genuinely most powerful
philosophy, which forms character, was rooted at the start in the maxims
found in the poets, and for this reason philosophers, if at some point they
say something meant as an exhortation, seal the thing they are saying, as
it were, with poetic phrases. The one encouraging us to virtue says
Virtue does not perish, even if one dies;²⁵⁴
And the one urging us to avoid love of money proclaims
That this is only one part of what Sextus has been discussing, and that only this part could
literally be thought of as recorded in “archives”, does not affect his main point here, which is
that the source material (however understood) is random, not systematic. Besides, Pellegrin
et al.’s explanation of how the sense “rule” could apply here is very strained.
²⁵³ Sextus is not endorsing this opinion; rather, from here to [276] he is continuing to
summarize the grammarians’ view of the utility of poetry (and therefore grammar).
²⁵⁴ From Euripides’ lost play Temenidae (fr. 734 Nauck); this information comes from
Stobaeus 3.1.4, who quotes this line and two others as part of a collection of verse quotations
about virtue.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Don’t talk of Wealth; I’m not impressed with a god

Whom even the worst man easily procures;²⁵⁵
And the one suggesting self-sufficiency gives the doctrine credibility

from the fact that Euripides says
What do mortals need except just two things
Demeter’s corn and a drink of poured water
Which are right here and naturally nourish us?²⁵⁶
[272] There is no surprise in the other philosophers doing this, but we find
even the denouncers of grammar, Pyrrho and Epicurus,²⁵⁷ accepting
its necessity. Pyrrho is recorded as reading Homer’s poetry all the time,
and he would never have done this if he had not recognized it as useful, and
grammar as necessary for this reason; [273] while Epicurus has been found
to have ripped off the most important of his doctrines from the poets. For
he has been shown to have taken the limit of the magnitude of pleasures,
that it is the removal of everything that gives pain,²⁵⁸ from one line:
When they had put away their desire for drink and food;²⁵⁹
And that death is nothing to us,²⁶⁰ Epicharmus had already told him,
when he said
Dying or being dead makes no difference to me.²⁶¹
In the same way he stole the idea that²⁶² dead bodies are without feeling
from Homer, who wrote
²⁵⁵ From Euripides’ lost play Aeolus (fr. 20 Nauck); also quoted by Stobaeus (3.3.31 and
4.31c.61, the latter naming the play), Athenaeus (159c), and Plutarch (34e).
²⁵⁶ From a lost play of unknown title (fr. 892 Nauck); also quoted by Aulus Gellius
(6.16.6–7) and Plutarch (1043E, first two lines only), both of whom say that the Stoic
philosopher Chrysippus often cited them.
²⁵⁷ Cf. [1].
²⁵⁸ This is Epicurus, Key Doctrines 3, with only the minimal verbal changes to fit it into
Sextus’ sentence; see also Key Doctrines 18 and for discussion LS vol. 1, commentary on
section 21.
²⁵⁹ A standard line in Homer marking the end of a meal; e.g. Iliad 1.469, 2.432.
²⁶⁰ Epicurus, Key Doctrines 2, Letter to Menoeceus 124; for discussion see LS vol. 1,
commentary on section 24.
²⁶¹ Sextus later attributes this to Sophron (cf. [284]). No one else quotes the line,
although Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 1.15, seems to be expressing a similar sentiment
and refers in the context to Epicharmus.
²⁶² With Heintz I read kai <to> ta nekra tôn sômatôn anaisthêtein.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
Deaf earth he abuses in his rage.²⁶³
[274] Then again, it is not only these things that seem to have been neatly
said by the poets, but also things about the gods, such as what is said in
Euripides in his Phrixus:
Whoever of mortals thinks that every day
He can do something wrong and escape the gods’ notice
Has vile opinions, and in those opinions is caught
Whenever Justice happens to have time to spare.²⁶⁴
But if these things and things like them are necessary, but are not grasped
without grammar, grammar too will be something useful for life. [275] It
will also, they say, have certain things that are especially necessary for the
countries of those who learn it. At any rate, when the Lebedians had
differences with their neighbors about Camandodus, the grammarian
was victorious by citing the words of Hipponax
Don’t mutter to me
Of a Lebedian dried fig from Camandodus.²⁶⁵
And by making those who pay attention to it good at conversation, in
this way too it immediately becomes advantageous to their associates in
many circumstances. [276] We can check on this statement from the
actual results. For Sostratus, they say, was sent by Ptolemy to Antigonus
to conduct some royal business, and when the latter answered rather
casually, he got his way by saying
Are these your orders, dark-haired shaker of the earth?
Shall I bring Zeus these rough, fierce words?
Or will you change something? Good men’s minds can be changed.²⁶⁶
²⁶³ Iliad 24.54.

²⁶⁴ Fr. 835 Nauck; repeated with slight variation at [287]. This play has not survived. The
lines are also attributed to Euripides’ Phrixus by Stobaeus, 1.3.15a, although Clement of
Alexandria 5.14.121 and Eusebius, Praep. evang. 13.13.47, both attribute them (along with
numerous others) to the comic poet Diphilus.
²⁶⁵ Fr. 124 West². Lebedus was a town in coastal Asia Minor (now Turkey). The place
name Camandodus (in some manuscripts Camandolus) is not otherwise attested, and we
do not know what the quarrel was, or how this piece of poetry was supposed to settle it—
nor who the grammarian was; many editors and translators have suspected that a name has
dropped out of Sextus’ text. Mau, following Theiler, deletes grammatikos, giving the sense
“the person who cited the words of Hipponax was victorious”; this seems unnecessary, but
given our ignorance of the story it makes no significant difference.
²⁶⁶ Iliad 15.201–3; the lines are spoken by Iris, messenger of the gods, to Poseidon. For
discussion of the historical context of the incident with Sostratus, see Blank, 294–5.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
For after hearing this Antigonus changed his mind.
B . ARGUMENTS ON THE OTHER SIDE (277–95)
[277] So, many things of this kind are said regarding the part of
grammar concerned with poets and writers being very useful; for the
sake of a sample, let us be satisfied with the ones we have laid out and
speak against each of them. That poetic maxims are useful for life and
the starting point of philosophy, and that grammar is capable of
explaining them, is a real piece of grammaticism. [278] For first,
supposing we go along with them in making no accusations against
poetry, at least this is clear: whatever in the poets is found useful for life
and necessary, such as their maxims and exhortations, are said by them
clearly and are not in need of grammar, whereas the things that are not
said clearly and are in need of grammar, such as things that depend on
foreign stories or are expressed in a riddling way, are useless, so that
the usefulness of grammar does not right away²⁶⁷ come along with the
benefit from the first, and is in company with the vanity of the
second.²⁶⁸ [279] And then, a maxim is only an assertion—for instance,
one like this:
A single wise resolution vanquishes many hands,
But ignorance together with a mob is the greatest evil.²⁶⁹
But about its being well said or not, the mind is not persuaded by an
assertion,²⁷⁰ but needs demonstrations. And demonstrations of what
things are said properly or not are the business not of grammar but of
philosophy; so in this way too the result is that grammar is superfluous
and pointless. Then again, if their interpreter grammar is useful because
many things are said by the poets finely and in a way helpful for life, then
since many times more things than these have been uttered by them in a
twisted way, damaging to life, it will become useless. For just as there is
someone saying
²⁶⁷ With Blank and Giusta 1962, 431 I read autothen instead of the mss. autôn, accepted
by Mau.
²⁶⁸ i.e. comes to share their character of “vanity” and is therefore not useful after all.
²⁶⁹ From Euripides’ lost play Antiope (fr. 200 Nauck), as Stobaeus informs us (4.13.3);
quoted by numerous other authors, sometimes with two preceding lines.
²⁷⁰ i.e. mere assertions do not carry any conviction of their own correctness.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
Don’t talk of Wealth; I’m not impressed with a god

Whom even the worst man easily procures,²⁷¹
so too there is someone declaring the opposite:

Gold, loveliest thing for mortals to receive,
Neither a mother provides such pleasure
To humans, nor children, nor a dear father,
As you and those who have got you in their homes.²⁷²
And again:
Do well; friendship is nothing if you’re out of luck,²⁷³
and
It’s the loveliest of music when a rich man talks.²⁷⁴
[280] When such opposite things are said without demonstration, people
are more inclined towards choosing the worse, and for this reason poetry
is revealed as harmful. But if a distinction is made between them, some
being rejected and others preferred, it is not grammar that becomes
useful but what is able to draw the distinction—philosophy. And those
who use the poets’ testimonies are not the genuine philosophers (in their
case argument is sufficient to persuade), but the cheaters of the great public
mob; [281] for it is not difficult to show that the poets are in conflict and
sing to whatever purpose they want, when even those who do philosophy
first and foremost²⁷⁵ often speak in conflict. Of those who denounce
grammar, Pyrrho used to unroll²⁷⁶ Homer’s poetry all the time—definitely
not for the reason that was stated, but perhaps for amusement, as if he was
²⁷¹ Cf. [271].

²⁷² Fr. 324 Nauck; from Euripides’ lost play Danaë, according to Stobaeus 4.31a.4,
although Seneca attributes what appear to be the same lines (translated into Latin) to
Euripides’ lost play Bellerophon (Letters 115, 14).
²⁷³ Euripides, Phoenician Women 403.
²⁷⁴ An unidentified fragment from tragedy (trag. fr. adesp. 464 Nauck).
²⁷⁵ i.e. those for whom philosophy is their main occupation. Blank’s “those who do
philosophy professionally” gets the right effect except for the (partial) anachronism involved
in the notion of an academic “profession”. Bury’s “leading philosophers” and Pellegrin et al.’s
“philosophes éminents” misconstrue the force of proêgoumenôs.
²⁷⁶ A reference to the papyrus scrolls that were the ancient counterpart of books. By
Sextus’ time the transition to the codex, the direct ancestor of the book as we know it today
(or did, prior to e-books), was already underway, but in Pyrrho’s time “unrolling” a book
would indeed be the only way to read it.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
listening to a comedy, or perhaps to scrutinize the poetic modes and

stylistic features; [282] for he is actually said to have written a poem
himself for Alexander of Macedon and been rewarded with ten thousand
gold pieces. It is not unlikely that there were other reasons too, which we
have gone through in our Pyrrhonians.²⁷⁷ [283] And Epicurus did not take
the limit of the magnitude of pleasures²⁷⁸ from the works of Homer; for
there is a big difference between saying that some people stopped eating
and drinking and satisfying their appetite (for that is what
When they had put away their desire for drink and food
amounts to), and saying that the removal of what gives pain is the limit of
magnitude regarding pleasures; for this naturally happens not just with
meats and wine, but also with the simplest foods.²⁷⁹ [284] Besides, the
poet made his statement apply only to provisions,²⁸⁰ but Epicurus
applied it to all enjoyable things, including sexual intercourse—on
which everyone knows Homer’s opinion. That death is nothing to us
was perhaps said by Sophron,²⁸¹ but it was demonstrated by Epicurus,
and it is not saying but demonstrating that is to be admired. [285] And
then, it was not in this respect that Epicurus said death was nothing to us,
that living or not is indifferent; for he thought living far more worthy of
choice because the good belongs to perceiving beings—in the absence
of sense perception there is nothing either bad or good. That dead bodies
are without sense perception not only the poet knows, but everyone
alive. At any rate a mother mourning her son often says “You have no
²⁷⁷ This sounds like a reference to Outlines of Pyrrhonism, but this work has nothing on
this subject. However, “Pyrrhonians” (Purrôneia) may be an alternative title for the work
Sextus elsewhere calls Skeptical Treatises (Skeptika Hupomnêmata), which consisted of
Against the Logicians, Against the Physicists, and Against the Ethicists preceded by one or
more lost books on the general character of Pyrrhonism; at M 6.52 and 58 he uses these two
different titles to refer to what is to all appearances the same work. See my notes on these
passages, also Blomqvist 1974. A discussion of Pyrrho’s reason for reading Homer appears
nowhere in the surviving books, but it may have appeared in the lost portion.
²⁷⁸ Cf. [273] with n. 258.
²⁷⁹ See Blank, 290–1, 306–8 on the wider context of the accusation that Epicurus took his
ideas from Homer, and the Epicureans’ responses. Sextus is clearly drawing in this whole
passage on Epicurean sources (cf. [299]), but is omitting some details of the debate—such
as, in this case, the question what types of food are needed to satisfy hunger, to which the
single quoted line of Homer is irrelevant.
²⁸⁰ i.e. food and drink; I use this slightly archaic rendering because it closely tracks the
basic meaning of the Greek word prospheromenôn, literally “things brought to one”.
²⁸¹ Cf. [273] with nn. 260, 261.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
perception of these things, while I am distraught”; and gazing at him she

then says “What’s left for you to gain from this?” [286] Not that, if one
looks closely, one will not find the poet holding the opposite opinion. For
the souls²⁸² are commonly thirsty for blood:
But step back from the trench, and hold away your sharp sword from
The blood, so that I can drink and speak to you unerringly.
And Tityos had his liver eaten by vultures because of his lust, and
Tantalus stands in a lake:
It was washing against his chin;
In his thirst he made for it, but was unable to catch any to drink.²⁸³
[287] Then again, when it comes to what was said about the gods by
Euripides, regular people too have the same opinion. For on a par with this:
Whoever of mortals thinks that day by day
He can do something wrong and escape the gods’ notice
Has vile opinions, and in those opinions is caught
Whenever Justice happens to have time to spare²⁸⁴
is the popular saying as follows:

The mills of the gods take a long time to grind, but they grind fine;²⁸⁵
²⁸² That is, the souls of the dead. The following lines, Odyssey 11.95–6, are from the scene
where Odysseus visits the underworld. The trench is filled with blood from a sacrifice, and the
souls have to drink it before they can converse with him. The speaker is the prophet Teiresias;
Odysseus has been guarding the trench with his sword so that none of the other souls will get
to the blood before him. (Obviously the details of this story cannot be pressed very far.)
²⁸³ Odyssey 11.583–4; the lake dries up whenever he tries to drink from it. There are
several different stories of what Tantalus’ offense was (and the punishment is also not the
same in all accounts); see the OCD entry for the various options. Tityos tried to rape Leto,
mother of Apollo and Artemis. Blank suggests that the Tityos example does not belong in
this context, and even deletes it from the text, on the grounds that “it would only fit if . . . his
eternal pain . . . were emphasized” (309–10). But the point is surely plain enough, and quite
pertinent to the general point of the passage: someone for whom the eating of his liver is
capable of serving as a punishment clearly has sensation. The examples of Tityos and Tantalus
also appear together in Sextus’ discussion of god in Against the Physicists (M 9.67–70), with
fuller verse quotations for both cases; here the necessity of sensation for the punishments to
work is explicit, and the point is to emphasize the contradictions in the conception of the
afterlife that this presupposes. Sextus is perhaps being briefer here because the stories and
their point are already clear in his mind from the other work.
²⁸⁴ Cf. [274].
²⁸⁵ For the thought, see Plutarch, On the Delays of Divine Justice 549d, which uses it to
explicate another Euripides quotation (in 549a) which is more explicit that divine justice
may take its time, but will eventually catch up with the offender.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
the only difference is in the meter.²⁸⁶ [288] And if one looks closely, one will
find the remarks of poets much worse than the suppositions of regular
people. Even the so-called Philosopher of the Theater²⁸⁷ seems rather
moderate when he says that he does not know whom he is praying to:
Vehicle of earth, who also have your seat on earth,
Whoever you are, hard to guess or discern,
Zeus, whether necessity of nature or mind of mortals,
I pray to you.²⁸⁸
[289] But Homer and Hesiod, according to Xenophanes of Colophon,

Told a great many lawless deeds of the gods
Stealing and adultery and deceiving one another.²⁸⁹
For Cronus, in whose time there was the happy life, they say, castrated
his father and swallowed his children, and Zeus his son, after taking away
his rule from him
Sent him down beneath the earth and the barren sea
Very far, where the pit beneath the earth is deepest.²⁹⁰
[290] But Zeus’ relatives plot against him, which is why he is even helped
by Thetis
When the other Olympians wanted to tie him up,
Hera and Poseidon and Pallas Athena;²⁹¹
for he is quite savage, and is not content to have strung up his sister and
wife²⁹² like a temple-robber, but also chides her, saying
Or do you not remember when you were suspended on high,
and from your feet
I let two boulders hang, and around your hands I attached a chain
Of gold, unbreakable, and you in the sky and clouds
Were suspended, and the gods were distraught on high Olympus?²⁹³
²⁸⁶ The proverb just cited is a dactylic hexameter, the meter of Homer; the quotation
from Euripides is in iambic trimeters, the standard tragic meter.
²⁸⁷ i.e. Euripides; for this title applied to him cf., e.g., Athenaeus 158e, 561a.
²⁸⁸ Trojan Women 884–7.
²⁸⁹ DK 21B12; Sextus is our sole source for these lines. The second line also appears preceded
by two others (of similar import to the first line here) in another fragment of Xenophanes cited
by Sextus at the close of his treatment of god in Against the Physicists (M 10.193).
²⁹⁰ Iliad 14.204 and 8.14. ²⁹¹ Iliad 1.399–400.
²⁹² Hera was both sister and wife of Zeus. ²⁹³ Iliad 15.18–21.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
[291] And in anger he throws Hephaestus from the heavens, and he

Fell down in Lemnos, and the spirit yet in him was feeble.²⁹⁴
And he despises his brother for

Having a house
Fearful and dank, which even the gods hate.²⁹⁵
And in addition to his harshness there is his incontinence; on spying

Hera dressed up on Mount Ida, he doesn’t hold out until they get to the
bedroom prepared for them, but throws himself to the ground on the
mountain and rolls around with his wife,
And under them the divine earth put forth fresh-sprouting grass,
Dewy lotus and crocus and hyacinth.²⁹⁶
[292] Since poetry, then, has been discovered to be variable, grammar is

useless, being unable to demonstrate which things are to be believed as
true and which disbelieved as mythical lies.
[293] But they say that grammar is useful for a city, since in fact a
testimony from poetry was the cause of victory for the Lebedians.²⁹⁷ But
in that case we say that skill at dancing is also necessary, since Sostratus,
Antiochus’ dancer²⁹⁸—when the king had taken Priene under his con-
trol, which was Sostratus’ homeland—being forced at the banquet to
dance the “freedom dance”,²⁹⁹ said that it was not proper to dance the
freedom dance when his homeland was enslaved; and for this reason the
city was freed. [294] And then, what is useful for the city is one thing;
what is useful for ourselves is another. Shoe-making and metal-working
²⁹⁴ Iliad 1.593.

²⁹⁵ Iliad 20.64–5. Zeus’ brother is Hades, whose “house” is the underworld. The lines are
not in fact spoken by Zeus; rather, they describe Hades’ own fear that the other gods’ violent
activities above might open up the underworld to the light of day (thus making it less grim
and forbidding).
²⁹⁶ Iliad 14.347–8. ²⁹⁷ Cf. [275].
²⁹⁸ Athenaeus (244f) names a Sostratus as a “parasite” at the court of Antiochus (i.e.
someone who eats at another’s house at their expense); elsewhere (19d) he refers to
Sostratus as an aulos-player whose sons Antiochus made his personal bodyguards. (On
the aulos, see note on 6.1.) Neither passage mentions dancing, but this may be the same
person. See Blank, 318–19 on the possible historical background of this episode.
²⁹⁹ Probably named after the Eleutheria or Festival of Liberty, celebrated every four years
at Plataea in memory of the Greeks’ victory there over the Persians in 479 BCE, which
marked the end of the Persians’ attempts to conquer mainland Greece.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
are necessary for the city, but for ourselves to become metal-workers or
shoe-makers is not necessary for happiness. For this reason grammar
too, given that it is useful for the city, is not necessarily also useful for
us. For the art of conversation is not such as to come about from
grammar, but from a sort of ordinary aptitude—[295] unless Demades
the orator was also a grammarian; he was taken prisoner along with
many Athenians after the defeat at Chaeronea,³⁰⁰ and said to Philip, who
was forcing him to take part in a feast,
What man who had any decency
Could stand to partake of food and drink
Before he had freed his comrades and seen them before his eyes?³⁰¹
C . THE SUPERIORITY OF PROSE WRITERS OVER POETS

IN THIS RESPECT (296–8)
[296] Enough said against the case made by the grammarians. But the main
thing to be said is that if the poets were the only ones useful for life, then
perhaps grammar would have become useful since it busies itself over them;
but as it is, since they are either useless or of little use, whereas philosophers
and the rest of the writers³⁰² teach the things that are useful, we do not need
grammar. [297] And that the writers rather than the poets show what is
useful for life is easily argued. For the former aim at truth, whereas the latter
want to divert the soul by every means, and the false is more diverting than
the true. So it is the former who are to be attended to rather than the latter,
who purposely pursue what is false. [298] And in general, as far as the poets
are concerned, it³⁰³ is not only useless for life but in fact very harmful. For
poetry serves to fortify human passions; and just as
To an old man, an old man has the sweetest talk,³⁰⁴
³⁰⁰ 338 BCE; a major victory of Philip of Macedon over an alliance of Greek states led by
Athens and Thebes.
³⁰¹ Odyssey 10.383–5, spoken by Odysseus to Circe, who had turned his comrades into
animals.
³⁰² i.e. prose writers; cf. [57].
³⁰³ Does this refer to poetry (Blank, Fabricius, Jürß) or to grammar (as directed towards
poetry) (Bury, Pellegrin et al.)? The claim of harmfulness applies directly to poetry, as the
next sentence illustrates. On the other hand, in this paragraph the usefulness of grammar is
being considered as derivative from that of poetry, and so poetry’s extreme harmfulness
might also be thought to rub off on grammar.
³⁰⁴ A verse line of unknown origin; it is included in standard collections of both tragic
and comic fragments (Fr. trag, adesp. 364 Nauck; Kock vol. 3, 606). Plutarch quotes this line
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
so the sex-crazed and drunkards are more inflamed by reading the

poems of Alcaeus and Anacreon, and the irascible have Hipponax and
Archilochus as trainers in their vice.
D . THE OBJECTS TREATED IN POETRY BETTER ADDRESSED

BY OTHER EXPERTISES THAN BY GRAMMAR (299–312)
[299] The things said, then, about this topic by the others, and especially
by the Epicureans, are like this; but let us, without accusing poetry in any
way, make our counter-arguments differently against those who claim to
have a grammatical expertise that is capable of discerning the things said
in poets and writers. [300] Since every piece of writing and every poem
consists of words that indicate and objects that are indicated, the gram-
marian, if he has an expertise that can articulate the things said in poets
and writers, will have to know either the words alone or the underlying
objects or both. But he appears not to know the objects (even if we do not
say so). For some of these are matters of physics, some of mathematics,
some of medicine, and some of music, and the person who tackles
physical matters must surely be a physicist, musical matters a musician,
mathematical matters surely a mathematician, and similarly in the other
cases. However, that the grammarian is not at once all-wise and skilled in
every science, besides striking us right away, is also proved by the results.
[301] For where is any stuck-up grammarian who can understand
Heraclitus and follow Plato when he says “Of the being that is partless
and always in the same state and of the one involved with bodies, which
has parts, he mixed together a third kind of being from both, from the
nature of the same and of the different”³⁰⁵ and what comes next (about
this text all the interpreters of Plato are silent),³⁰⁶ or will have the
and three others that expand on the idea that similar experience makes for friendship
(How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend, 51e).
³⁰⁵ Timaeus 35a (with a very few insignificant differences from the manuscripts of Plato).
³⁰⁶ Blank regards this parenthetical phrase as an ill-advised gloss and deletes it, for two
reasons: first, it contains a reference to the words (lexis, which I have translated “text”) rather
than the subject matter, when the latter rather than the former is currently under discussion;
and second, that Plato’s interpreters are silent about this passage is plainly false. But on the
first point, Sextus has just been quoting some words of Plato, and “what comes next” must be
some additional words; it is not surprising, then, that he refers here to words, even though the
focus is on the subject matter rather than the linguistic formulation, and even though lexis was
also used in [300] to denote the words in contrast to the subject matter. (Blank says that
lexis is always used in contexts having to do with style or expression, but Sextus’ own use of
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
strength to tackle the dialectical theories of Chrysippus or the mathem-

atics of Archimedes and Eudoxus? [302] Then again, as he is blind in
these matters, so too he will be in the poems written about them, such as
when Empedocles says
Greetings! I go among you an immortal god,
No longer mortal, honored by all,³⁰⁷
and again
But why do I make a fuss over this, as if dealing with some great matter,
If I am above much-perishing mortal humans?³⁰⁸
For the grammarian and the regular person will suppose that the phil-
osopher declared these things as an expression of boastfulness and
disdain for the rest of humanity, which is alien to the person who has
even moderate standing in philosophy, let alone such a man as this. [303]
But the person who starts from physical speculation, knowing clearly that
the doctrine that like is known by like is ancient through and through—it
seems to have come down from Pythagoras and occurs also in Plato’s
Timaeus, but was said much earlier by Empedocles himself:
For we see earth by earth, water by water,
Heavenly air by air, and obliterating fire by fire,
Love by love, and strife by dire strife³⁰⁹
it in [38], as well as the standard phrase kata lexin, “word for word”, seem to be counter-
examples.) And on the second point, that the statement is false does not show that Sextus did
not say it; perhaps his knowledge of Platonic exegesis was limited. Someone wrote these words
(including the word lexis); why should it not be Sextus?
³⁰⁷ Lines 4–5 of DK 31B112, a sequence of twelve lines pieced together from several sources
other than Sextus. These particular lines were also quoted, according to Diogenes Laertius
(8.66), by the historian Timaeus to show that Empedocles’ poetry was boastful and self-serving
(at odds with his public demeanor)—an interpretation Sextus goes on to challenge.
³⁰⁸ DK 31B113; Sextus is our sole source for these lines. “Much-perishing” is possibly a
reference to the cycle of multiple deaths and rebirths that, according to the Pythagorean
aspect of Empedocles’ thought, humans are required to go through before escaping to
divine status, as Empedocles himself claims to have achieved.
³⁰⁹ DK 31B109. Sextus twice cites these lines in Against the Logicians (not Against the
Physicists, despite the mention above of “physical speculation”) in the course of his
survey of previous views on the criterion of truth (M 7.92, 121); the first of these passages
again draws the connection with Pythagoreanism and with Plato’s Timaeus (as inter-
preted by the Stoic Posidonius). The connection with the Timaeus (specifically, the
construction of the soul, 35a–b, the passage quoted by Sextus at [301]) is also made by
Aristotle at On the Soul 404b8–18, which also quotes these lines of Empedocles (as does
Metaphysics 1000b5ff.).
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
—will understand that Empedocles called himself a god because he

alone had preserved his mind pure from vice and unpolluted, and
apprehended the god outside by the god in himself. [304] And when
Aratus writes
As far as the ray cast by the eye shines

Six times it would intercept it at that length; yet each
Measured equal covers two stars³¹⁰
it is not the grammarian’s job to know that the length of the straight line
extending from our eye to the point of rising,³¹¹ multiplied by six, will
measure the circle of the zodiac, so that it cuts off two zodiac signs; it is
the job of the mathematician, who demonstrates geometrically³¹² that the
sixth part of the zodiac circle stands on³¹³ the straight line that extends as
far as the point of rising. [305] And when Timon of Phlius likens Pyrrho to
the sun in these lines:
You alone lead humans in the manner of the god

Who revolves driving around the whole earth
Showing the flaming circle of his well-turned sphere,³¹⁴
he will seem to the grammarians to be saying it as an honor and because

of the philosopher’s brilliance;³¹⁵ but another will wonder whether
³¹⁰ Aratus, Phainomena 541–3, from a description of the zodiac circle. For brief explan-
ation, I cannot do better than quote Blank’s comment (337): “If the earth is regarded as the
center of the heavenly sphere, a line drawn from the eye of the observer to that sphere is a
radius. Six such observations made of equidistant points on the sphere will form a regular
hexagon, each of whose sides subtends an arc containing two zodiacal signs.” The sides of
the hexagon will also be equal in length to the radius, as proved by Euclid, Elements IV.15.
Sextus plays up the impression that the grammarian will be incapable of understanding this
by omitting Aratus’ next line (544), which says “They call it by the name zodiac circle”.
Sextus has much more to say about the zodiac circle in the book on astrology (5.6–19).
Aratus is mentioned again at 5.98.
³¹¹ i.e. the point where the eastern horizon cuts the zodiac.
³¹² Literally “by means of lines”, grammikôs, which is no doubt an ironic wordplay on
“grammar”.
³¹³ I follow Blomqvist 1971, 12–13 and Blank in reading epi for the mss. apo.
³¹⁴ From Timon’s Indalmoi (Images), as Diogenes Laertius 9.65 tells us; a sequence of
seven lines can be assembled from the present passage, Diogenes Laertius 9.65, and Sextus
M 11.1; see LS 2D.
³¹⁵ The grammarians’ interpretation, as so described, is plainly correct; this is even
clearer from the full seven lines (see n. 314) than from these three alone. However, it
does seem to invite the objection mentioned immediately after, if Pyrrho is indeed supposed
to be of a skeptical disposition. Sextus’ “more philosophical” reading in [306] looks at first
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
the things said about Pyrrho by the man of Phlius may conflict with the
skeptical purpose, since the sun shows things not previously observed by
shining on them with its light, whereas Pyrrho forces even things that
had previously been grasped by us clearly to withdraw into obscurity.
[306] But that it is not this way is apparent to the person who approaches
the matter more philosophically; he is saying that Pyrrho suspends
judgement like the sun, in so far as the god blinds the sight of those
who gaze directly at it, and in the same way skeptical reasoning confuses
the mind’s eye of those who pay careful attention to it, so that they lack
apprehension of everything put forward by way of dogmatic rashness.
[307] But if we need to go over medical theory, it is possible to estab-
lish³¹⁶ that often even an epithet thrown in by a poet reveals a deep and
science-based thought, such as “deep with rushes, grassy like a bed” in
Homer.³¹⁷ For it signifies (what a grammarian cannot perceive) that the
seed of the rush is conducive to sex, the poet calling intercourse “bed”.
[308] Or what is said in Euripides about Deidameia, daughter of
Lycomedes:
Your daughter is sick and she is in danger.
What from? What illness is overpowering her?
Surely it’s not a chill that strains her ribs with bile?³¹⁸
sight very contrived. However, epechein, translated here (as usual in Sextus) by “suspend
judgement”, can also mean “be in charge”, which has at least some connection with the
position of leader ascribed in these lines to Pyrrho. In addition, the reason why Timon
thought Pyrrho so worthy of being honored in these terms (as the full seven lines also
indicate) is his undogmatic attitude. In the end, then, this interpretation can be thought of
as a more sophisticated (albeit also more speculative) version of the first. This passage is
well discussed by Sluiter 2000, 101–2 (with a slightly different view of how the interpret-
ations relate to one another). For a brief account of the main options for understanding
Pyrrho’s thought, see Bett 2014a.
³¹⁶ Following Bury and Blank, I add <estin> after paristan.
³¹⁷ Iliad 4.383 (describing the river Asopus).
³¹⁸ Fr. 682 Nauck. When still young (nine years old, according to Apollodorus, 3.13.8),
Achilles was dressed as a girl and entrusted to the court of Lycomedes, king of Scyrus, so
that he would not have to go to war against the Trojans (where it was fated that he would
die). Obviously this did not work; he was found out by Odysseus. There are different
versions of the story, but a central point is that Achilles made Lycomedes’ daughter
pregnant; this is presumably the cause of the condition discussed in these lines. It is also
a fair assumption that the second and third lines, inquiring about this, are spoken by
Lycomedes, in response to the information given to him in the first line. We know that
Euripides wrote a play called Scyrians, and Nauck is surely right to assign the fragment to
this play.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
For he is asking whether she has got a touch of pleurisy, because those
with pleurisy bring up bile-like stuff when they cough—of which the
grammarian knows nothing.
[309] However, it is perhaps redundant to use rather archaic and
perhaps science-based cases to shame those involved with grammar,
when they are not even able to comprehend an epigram they come across,
such as the one written by Callimachus in reference to Diodorus Cronus:
See there, the ravens on the roofs croak
“What things are connected?” and “How will we come to be in future?”³¹⁹
[310] For that Cronus was a superb dialectician and taught how the
sound conditional³²⁰ is to be judged, so that because his teaching won
out, even the ravens on the houses, from hearing it so much, cried out his
judgement on the conditional, the grammarian might say, and up to this
point he will understand what is known even to children. [311] But
moving on to “And how will we come to be in future?” he will be silent; he
will not find out the thing being indicated. For it falls to the philosopher to
say that Diodorus holds that nothing is in motion. For what is in motion is
in motion either in the place in which it is or in the place in which it is not;
but neither the first nor the second; therefore nothing is in motion. And
from nothing’s being in motion it follows that nothing perishes. [312] For
just as nothing is in motion, because of something’s being in motion
neither in the place in which it is nor in the place in which it is not, in
the same way, since what is alive dies neither in the time in which it is alive
nor in the time in which it is not alive, it never dies.³²¹ But if so, we will live
forever according to him and “will come to be in future”.³²²
³¹⁹ Fr. 393.3–4 Pfeiffer.

³²⁰ Sunnêmenon, literally “connected [proposition]”; the crows’ “what things are con-
nected?” is therefore using the same word and alluding to this side of Diodorus’ philosoph-
ical activity. Sextus discusses conditionals, including Diodorus’ view of them, in several
other places; see especially M 8.112–17, PH 2.110–12.
³²¹ Sextus discusses Diodorus’ views on motion, including the present argument, in
Against the Physicists (M 10.85–120); later in the same book, in the discussion of coming to
be and perishing, he introduces arguments explicitly indebted to Diodorus that apply the
same form of reasoning to show that these too (but especially perishing or dying) are
impossible (M 10.346–50). For the arguments on motion, see also PH 2.242, 245, 3.71.
³²² As Blank points out (344), Sextus’ explanation is strained. It is unlikely that “we will
come to be” (genêsometha) would refer simply to an indefinitely continued existence; it
sounds more like a reference to a future rebirth. Blank has an ingenious suggestion as to
how the ravens’ words, so understood, might still be applicable to Diodorus’ views on
motion and continued existence; but this would be distinct from Sextus’ own account.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
E . THE LACK OF AN EXPERTISE FOR RELIABLY COMPREHENDING

WORDS (313–17)
[313] The grammarians, then, do not comprehend the objects. So it

remains that they comprehend the names—which is again silly. For,
first, they have no expert method for coming to know a word; nor have
they learned by any expertise that the shepherds in Sophocles³²³ who say
iô ballên are saying “Oh king” [iô basileu] in Phrygian,³²⁴ but by hearing
it from others. And there is no difference between becoming interpreters
of a barbarian word or of an obscure locution; either one is equally
unfamiliar to us. [314] And then, even this is impossible, since there is
an infinite number of words coined in different ways by different people
and applied to objects that we do not know. An example is “The whole
[to holon] was speaking a barbarian language [ebarbarize], having
wounds [helkê] on its hand”;³²⁵ “was speaking a barbarian language”
[ebarbarize] stands for “was playing the syrinx”³²⁶ [esurize], for Syrians
are barbarians,³²⁷ “the whole” [to holon] stands for Pan, for “whole” and
“all” [pan] are synonymous, and “wound” [helkos] stands for “abscess”
[syrinx], for an abscess is a kind of wound. So that the whole thing
becomes “Pan was playing the syrinx, holding the syrinxes in his
hand”. [315] And anyway, how do the grammarians know some of
³²³ Fr. 472 Nauck. Sophocles wrote a play Shepherds, now lost; since Sextus says the
speakers of these words are shepherds, Nauck assigns them to this play.
³²⁴ That ballên is Phrygian for “king” is confirmed by Hermesianax of Cyprus in a work
called Phrygian Matters, as reported by [Plutarch] On Rivers 12.4. The word also appears
with this sense in a chorus of Aeschylus’ Persians (658).
³²⁵ This piece of apparent nonsense is produced from an intelligible sentence by repeated
applications of the rhetorical figure known as “substitution” (metalêpsis): given a word that
has two distinct meanings, or a pair of distinct but phonetically identical words (such as the
English “bank”, financial institution, and “bank”, edge of a river), one starts with the word
in sense A (or with word A), and then substitutes a synonym of the word in sense B (or a
synonym of word B). In this case, of course, Sextus presents us at the start with the result
and then works back to the intelligible sentence that was transformed into it. The effect is in
some ways similar to that of traditional Cockney rhyming slang, e.g. “loaf” for “head” (loaf
of bread) or “raspberry” for “fart” (raspberry tart). As Blank observes (347–8), Sextus is
stretching the procedure in two of the three cases to follow, since the pairs of words in
question have vowels of different length.
³²⁶ Or Pan-pipe, a wind instrument associated with Pan and similar to panpipes of
today. But the word syrinx is also a medical term that can mean (among other things)
“abscess”, and the third substitution below depends on this.
³²⁷ Esurize could also mean “was speaking Syrian”; the spelling is the same in Greek,
although the u (upsilon) is of a different length from that of the other word (cf. n. 325).
BOOK : AGAINST THE GRAMMARIANS 
the science-based words, like Aristotle’s “entelechy”³²⁸ or “the what it

was to be”?³²⁹ Or how will they understand what force the phrase “no
more” has for skeptics—whether it serves as a question or as an assertion,
and what it applies to, the external underlying thing or the way we are
affected?³³⁰ And what will they say when some poem is composed out of
some peculiar words:³³¹
If only³³² under your double mountains a double lover
Had perished and established a nature as the lowest fate;
And limbs that have gone in the shield-shaped joint down into the hollow
Be turned twisted as far as the thigh-tops
And fearful foxes below as far as the receptacle
Of eternity, languid harmony, had gathered together.³³³
[317] For who the lovers are, and the mountains, and the shield-shaped
joint, and the thigh-tops, and also the hollow and the foxes and the
receptacle and eternity and harmony—names that have been uttered
neither figuratively nor in a historical way but in their proper sense³³⁴—
they will not understand, even if they fix on them ten thousand times.
³²⁸ Entelecheia is one of Aristotle’s words for “actuality”. “Entelechy” is of course a very
rare word in English, and that is why I choose it; however, it does appear in OED.
³²⁹ To ti ên einai, Aristotle’s standard phrase to designate something’s essence; it sounds
just as crabbed in Greek as in this literal English rendering.
³³⁰ Sextus addresses this issue at PH 1.188–91. There he says that “no more” has the force
either of a question or of an expression of suspension of judgement between alternatives—
not, therefore, of an assertion—and that it expresses how things appear to us, rather than
anything about the actual character of external objects. As he admits (191), this is not what
the phrase naturally sounds like (which is no doubt why he uses it here as an example of
something with which the grammarians might have difficulties); and this raises the possi-
bility that it was originally adopted by the skeptics for a different purpose from the one for
which Sextus himself uses it.
³³¹ “Peculiar words” translates lexis, elsewhere used to mean simply “word” or “expres-
sion”; but it can also refer, as here, to words needing special explanation. Elsewhere these
are referred to with the term glôssai, which I translate as “obscure word/locution”, e.g. [313].
³³² I follow Blomqvist 1971, 17 and Blank in reading ei for the mss. ê.
³³³ With Blomqvist 1971, 13–18 and Blank I read ὅλμου for ὁλμοῦ (change of accent),
blaisa for basa, peristrepheto for peristrephetai, smerdaleai for smerdalea, alôpekes for
alôpekos, chalarês for chalaran, and sundramon for sundromon; Mau simply reproduces
the manuscripts, while acknowledging that changes are needed. For the point of all this,
see n. 334.
³³⁴ This is the key to interpreting what Sextus is up to, as Blomqvist 1971, 13–18 has
emphasized: this apparently nonsensical poem (generally assumed to be Sextus’ own
composition—certainly we have no idea of any other author) is not composed with
words used metaphorically or in archaic senses (I take this to be the force of “in a
historical way”), but with terms used literally. These literal usages, however, are clearly
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
F . FINAL THOUGHTS ON THE WORTHLESSNESS OF THIS PART

OF GRAMMAR (318–20)
[318] If, then, they know neither the objects nor the words, and a poem
or a piece of writing is nothing beyond these, they cannot have an
expertise capable of interpreting the things said in poets and writers.
And besides, if we do need grammar, we need it in the case of the best
poems, not the bad ones. But the best poem, according to them, is the
clear one; [319] for clarity is a virtue in a poem, and unclarity is bad by
grammar’s verdict. It is needed, then, neither in the case of the best
poem, because it is clear and not in want of interpretation, nor in the case
of the bad one, because it is just bad. [320] In addition, what is disagreed
about without resolution is not apprehended,³³⁵ and in their interpret-
ations grammarians still disagree without resolution about the writer’s
thought; therefore the writer’s thought is not apprehended, and for this
reason grammar is useless.
7. Transition to Against the Rhetoricians (320)
But enough said against those who embark on this discipline; let us make
a new beginning and inquire into what must be said against the
rhetoricians.
not standard usages, and it follows that they must all be technical terms in some
specialized field with which the grammarians are not acquainted. The obvious option is
medicine, Sextus’ own field, and some of the terms in the poem (joint, thigh-tops) have a
fairly clear anatomical sense. (My translation thus gives the game away a little more than
Blank’s, which avoids anatomical connotations entirely; I think this is legitimate given
that “shield-shaped” with “joint” leaves a large puzzle as to which joint is at issue, and
“thigh-tops” (trochantêres) in fact refers to what is still called the trochanter, which is a
highly specific part of the thigh bone, something that grammarians could hardly be
expected to know about any more than classical scholars of today—I at least had never
heard of it until trying to translate these lines.) Blomqvist was not the first to identify
medicine as the specialized field in question, but he went beyond others in working out
the meanings of each of these terms in clear and full detail. In his commentary (350)
Blank offers an alternative translation that expresses the precise anatomical features
involved; but the basic idea is that a number of bizarre and dire anatomical transform-
ations are wished (“if only”) on the reader (“your”)—that is, on the grammarian himself,
if only he can figure out the meaning. (In mitigation, the wish is one that the poem itself
characterizes as not able to be fulfilled.)
³³⁵ Or “cannot be apprehended”. This is a frequent ambiguity with adjectives ending in
the suffix -tos (akatalêptos in this case); at times in Sextus this can make an important
difference to how we understand the nature of his skeptical outlook.
Book 2
Against the Rhetoricians
1. Three definitions of rhetoric (1–9)

[1] Following the things that were gone through about grammar, the
next thing for us to speak about would be rhetoric, which is actually
more manly¹ and is put to the test mostly in public and at tribunals. But
since the conception is common to existence and non-existence,² and it
is not possible to do any investigation of either of these³ without having
formed a preconception of what it is that is being investigated,⁴ let us first
inquire into what rhetoric is, setting out the most prominent accounts of
this given by the philosophers.
[2] Plato in the Gorgias, in keeping with his procedure of drawing
distinctions,⁵ seems (by combination)⁶ to offer a definition of rhetoric
like this: “Rhetoric is a craftsman of persuasion through words, having its
authority⁷ in the words themselves, being such as to persuade, not such
¹ Either in the sense “virile” (by comparison with the grammarians’ effeminacy), or
perhaps, as Pellegrin et al. take it, “grown-up” (by comparison with the grammarians’
childishness); the subsequent reference to its use in the public arena would fit with either.
² i.e. whether a thing exists or not, the conception of it is the same.
³ i.e. to investigate whether or not the thing exists.
⁴ Cf. 1.57 and accompanying note.
⁵ Bury translates “using his method of definition”; Pellegrin et al. and Jürß follow suit.
But dioristikên refers to a method by which things are distinguished from one another—for
example, as Sextus goes on to emphasize, “persuasion through words” as distinct from
persuasion by other means. Fabricius ad loc. correctly notes that this is a common approach
in Plato; one might add that it is formalized especially in the method of collection and
division on display in the Sophist and the Statesman.
⁶ i.e. if we combine various different passages. The definition Sextus offers can be pieced
together from several different passages from the opening pages of the Gorgias; see 450d,
451d, 452d, 453a, 454a, 454e (I borrow this list from Pellegrin et al. ad loc.).
⁷ Plato would surely not have wished to dignify rhetoric with the term “authority”. But
kuros, translated “authority”, is Sextus’ term, not Plato’s; and although Sextus is going to
offer plenty of critiques of his own, the word does seem to have a connotation of legitimate
or justified power, not just power unqualified.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
as to teach”. He adds “through words”, I expect, in so far as there are

many things that bring about persuasion in people apart from speech, for
example wealth, reputation, pleasure, and beauty. [3] At any rate the
elders of the people in Homer,⁸ despite being in a state of war and
completely alienated against Helen, as being the cause of the evils they
have suffered, are nonetheless persuaded by her beauty, and when she
comes forward they tell one another things like this:
You can’t blame the Trojans and the well-greaved Achaeans⁹
For the long-time hardships they’re suffering over a woman like this.¹⁰
[4] And Phryne, they say, was about to get a judgement against her, even
though Hyperides was making the case on her behalf, when she tore
apart her clothes and prostrated herself before the judges with bare
breasts; that had more power to persuade the judges, because of her
beauty, than the oratory of the man making her case.¹¹ And it’s the same
with money and pleasure and reputation; for we will find each of these so
persuasive that they often override some of the things befitting us.¹² So it
was not ill-considered of Plato to look to the persuasion that comes about
through them, and to say that rhetoric is a craftsman of persuasion not
just anyhow, but through words. [5] Then again, when one persuades by
words, it is not rhetoric in every case—for medicine and forms of
expertise similar to this persuade through speech—but if it is one that
has its power residing principally in the words themselves; and not across
the board—since geometry and arithmetic and every expertise of a
theoretical kind has its authority principally in words—but when,
along with this, the persuasion that it creates is not such as to teach,
like geometry, but such as to persuade¹³—which is peculiar to rhetoric.
⁸ Literally, “in the poet”.

⁹ A standard Homeric formula; greaves were pieces of armor covering the shins.
¹⁰ Iliad 3.156–7.
¹¹ Other versions of this story, e.g. Athenaeus 590, make this part of Hyperides’ own plan
to get her acquitted (and also make her his mistress).
¹² i.e. make people neglect what they ought to be doing and pursue them instead.
Kathêkonta, “the things befitting us”, is a central term in Stoic ethics. I borrow the translation
from Brennan 2005—see chapters 11–13 for discussion; relevant texts and briefer discussion
are in LS section 59.
¹³ i.e. presumably operating solely through persuasion, not through the acquisition of
knowledge. Sextus’ way of putting this is inept, and this is even more striking in the Greek,
where “persuasion” (peithô) and “such as to persuade” (peistikên) are virtually adjacent. But
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
[6] Xenocrates, Plato’s pupil, and the Stoic philosophers said that
rhetoric is the science of speaking well, Xenocrates taking “science” in
one way—in the archaic usage, as equivalent to “expertise”—and the
Stoics in another, as equivalent to “having firm apprehensions”, which
develops only in the wise person. But they both take “speaking” as
different from “doing dialectic”, since the way dialectic works depends
on conciseness and the give and take of argument,¹⁴ [7] whereas speaking
at length and in a full exposition is observed to be peculiar to rhetoric.¹⁵
This is in fact why Zeno of Citium, when asked how dialectic differs from
rhetoric, clenched his fist and opened it out again and said “like this”,
lining up dialectic’s characteristic compactness and brevity with the
clenching, and hinting at the breadth of the rhetorical ability by the
opening and extension of his fingers.
[8] Aristotle, in the first book of the Rhetoric,¹⁶ portrays rhetoric more
simply: expertise in words.¹⁷ And when the question is raised against him
that medicine too is an expertise in medical words, some in his defense
say that medicine refers its words towards another end, namely health,
whereas rhetoric is just expertise in words. [9] And this man puts
forward other definitions, which it is not necessary for us to speak
about, since we are not dealing with the account of rhetoric as a main
topic, but only to the point of understanding its peculiar character, for
the purpose of the counter-argument that we are going to pick up. And
this can get started right away from the concept that has been laid out.
For since those who present the conception of rhetoric want it to be
an expertise or science of words, or of speaking, and productive of
the risk that it would turn out this way was present from the start in the paraphrased Platonic
definition in [2], with the same repetition of “persuasion” and “such as to persuade”.
¹⁴ Literally, “what depends on conciseness and the taking and giving of argument is the
work of dialectic”. Note also that “argument” (logos) is the same word otherwise translated
“speech” in this passage; “speech” would sound very awkward in this context, and argument
is the kind of speaking under consideration here.
¹⁵ The word theôroumenon, “observed”, is awkward here. With some hesitation I take it
with rhêtorikês etugchanen idion (so Pellegrin et al.) rather than as the object of legein (Bury,
Fabricius); the latter would give the sense “speaking at length and in a full exposition of a
thing under observation is peculiar to rhetoric”.
¹⁶ Literally, “Rhetorical Expertises” (tôn rêtorikôn technôn). But Rhetoric is the title by
which the work is universally known today.
¹⁷ This can be extracted from 1354a12, in the first chapter of Aristotle’s Rhetoric. But it
can hardly be taken in the context as a general account of what rhetoric is. Contrast [61],
where Sextus does allude to Aristotle’s actual definition.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
persuasion, we too will hold on to these three,¹⁸ and try to teach its
non-existence.
2. Problems with rhetoric’s status

as an expertise (10–47)
a. Expertises do not deal in falsehoods, as rhetoric does (10–12)
[10] Every expertise is a system of apprehensions organized together and
making reference to an end useful in life;¹⁹ but rhetoric is not a system of
apprehensions, as we will establish; therefore rhetoric is not.²⁰ [11] For
there are no apprehensions of things that are false, but the so-called rules
of rhetoric are false—things like “this is how to hoodwink the judges”,
“how to arouse anger or pity”, or “how to make the case for an adulterer
or temple-robber”, which display it as befitting to hoodwink the judges
and arouse anger or pity—which are not true and for this reason not
apprehensible. So there are no apprehensions of them; and along with
this comes the non-existence of rhetoric too. [12] Just as we would not
say, then, that breaking and entering is an expertise that recommends
“this is how one must dig through a wall”, and stealing one that recom-
mends “this is how it befits one to steal and cut purses” (for these things
are false—they are not befitting and not rules), so too it is not to be
supposed that rhetoric has any existence as an expertise, when it totters
on precepts like these. Not to mention that Critolaus the Peripatetic, and
¹⁸ i.e. the three definitions of rhetoric just discussed—those of Plato, Xenocrates/the

Stoics, and Aristotle—all of which are loosely recalled in this sentence.
¹⁹ Originally a Stoic definition; see LS 42A4, SVF II.93–7 for the same definition
with minor variations. But by Sextus’ time it seems to be in much wider circulation.
Mau and Bury alter the mss. lambanontôn to lambanousôn. This does indeed make
for correct Greek (assuming, pace Pellegrin et al., that this participle goes with
katalêpseôn, “apprehensions”—their translation “de ceux qui s’y réfèrent” is impos-
sibly strained). But see Blomqvist 1968, 80 on why the mss. reading may nonetheless
be the right one.
²⁰ Mau adds the word <technê>, giving the sense “therefore rhetoric is not an expertise”.
However, as Blomqvist 1968, 80–1 points out, Sextus clearly takes himself in the following
argument to be showing that there is no such thing as rhetoric—see especially the end of [11].
I therefore translate the mss. as they stand. Blomqvist takes this to be an instance of bad
argument on Sextus’ part; but if rhetoric is by definition an expertise, as suggested by the
foregoing discussion, then showing that it is not an expertise is equivalent to showing that it
does not exist.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
long before him Plato, with this in view, bad-mouthed it as constituting a

corruption of expertise rather than an expertise.²¹
b. Expertises reliably achieve their ends, as rhetoric

does not (13–15)
[13] Then again, since every expertise has its end either stable and solid,
like philosophy and grammar, or fastening on what’s mostly so, like
medicine and navigation, rhetoric too, if it is an expertise, will have to lay
claim to one of these. [14] But it certainly does not have its end stable—
for it does not always escape the victory of those on the other side;
sometimes the orator sets himself one end but gets another one as a
result—[15] nor aiming for what’s mostly so, since every orator, if he
measures his own performance, has often failed rather than gained
victory, seeing that someone else is always undoing his lines of attack.
Therefore rhetoric is not an expertise.
c. Those without training in rhetoric can be at least as effective

in oratory as those with it, which counts against rhetoric
being an expertise (16–19)
[16] And if it is possible to become an orator without partaking of the
rhetorical expertise, there will not be any rhetorical expertise. But it is
possible to practice oratory, well enough and in the normal way, without
partaking in rhetoric,²² as we have learned in the case of Demades; for
although he was an oarsman, he is agreed to have become an excellent
orator, and so have lots of others besides him. So rhetoric is not an
expertise. [17] Besides, if ²³ we do not believe that these people were like
²¹ Plato’s most explicit critique of rhetoric as not being a technê, including on the sorts
of moral grounds alluded to here, is in the Gorgias; his own derogatory terms for it, in
contrast with technê, are empeiria—usually rendered “experience”, but often here trans-
lated “knack”—and tribê, “routine” (463b4). Critolaus’ works have not survived. But
Quintilian confirms that he denied rhetoric the status of a technê, or ars in Latin (Training
in Oratory 2.15.23, 2.17.14–15, the first passage also citing tribê as Critolaus’ alternative
term). See also [20]ff.
²² That is, in the expertise of rhetoric. Throughout this paragraph the words translated
“orator” and “oratory” are from the same root, rhêtor-, as those translated “rhetoric” and
“rhetorical”. I use the former terms when public speaking in general is meant, without the
implication that this is the exercise of a special expertise, and the latter when the implication
of an expertise (real or alleged) is present. See also the Glossary.
²³ With Giusta 1962, 428 (following Harder) I read ei for the mss. epei (simply excised
by Mau).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
this and got to the point of practicing oratory as a matter of habit and
as a result of some such practice, all the same it is possible in our
everyday lives to see many people who speak nicely in law-courts and
assemblies, while not knowing the expert precepts of rhetoric. [18]
And conversely, if those who have brought to precision and worked
out more fully the expert rules of rhetoric are incapable of practicing
oratory in the law-courts and the assembly, we should not say that
rhetoric is an expert method. But as every ordinary person knows,
those who play the sophist²⁴ have refined to a peak the expert dis-
course of rhetoric, but are observed to be dumber than fishes when
they are out in public. So it is not in virtue of expertise that some
people are orators. [19] Hence they are laughable when, in defending
themselves against this refutation, they say that, just as sharpening
stones are not of a nature to cut, but by sharpening the knife put it in a
position to cut, so too they are incapable of speaking because they are
not used to it, but make others speak by leading them on through
expertise. For these wonders didn’t realize the dissimilarity in this
comparison, seeing that the sharpening stone is not of a nature to
impart to the iron the ability that it possesses, yet they do lay claim, as
their primary function, to secure for those near to them the expertise
that they possess.
d. Cities have evicted rhetoricians, which they would

not do if rhetoric were an expertise (20–5)
[20] Critolaus and the Academics, Clitomachus and Charmidas among
them, these too²⁵ are in the habit of saying this kind of thing: that cities
do not throw out forms of expertise—they know they are very useful for
life—just as we do not throw household managers out of our houses or
²⁴ The original Sophists of fifth-century Athens made rhetoric the centerpiece of

their teaching. It is not clear whom Sextus has in mind here, but they must be people
who see themselves as in some way part of that tradition. (The figures of the Second
Sophistic, a rhetorical movement that was active in Sextus’ own day, certainly do not
seem to fit this description; they may have cultivated rhetorical theory, but they were
anything but tongue-tied. On Sextus’ apparent neglect of the Second Sophistic, see
Bett 2017.)
²⁵ The force of “these too” (kai houtoi) is that what is to follow supports the same
conclusion already argued for (albeit via a different line of thinking): that rhetoric is not an
expertise.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
those who tend cattle from the herd; however, everyone everywhere has
gone after rhetoric as most hostile—such as the Cretan lawgiver who
didn’t let those who puff themselves up in their speeches set foot on the
island, [21] and the Spartan Lycurgus who (as he would, having
become an admirer of Thales the Cretan)²⁶ introduced the same law
for the Spartans. And this is why, a long time later, the Overseers²⁷
punished the young man who came back home after mastering rhetoric
in a foreign country, putting forward as the cause of their sentence that
“he had studied treacherous words for the deception of Sparta”.²⁸ And
they continued hating rhetoric and using simple short speech. [22]
Hence, too, the man they had voted to go against the Athenians as
ambassador to Tissaphernes, as the Athenians were making their way
through long and elaborate discourses, drew two lines on the ground
with his stick, one short and straight, the other long and twisted, and said
“Choose, king, whichever of these you like”, suggesting by the long and
twisted line the over-subtlety belonging to rhetoric, and by the short
straight one, straight talk, simple and concise; [23] for this reason they
strive for speech with no redundancy, not only in their own people but
also in those from elsewhere. Indeed the Chian ambassador, who was
asking for a shipment of wheat, they sent away from their midst—he got
nothing—because he had delivered his request at length. But when
another, more concise one was sent (the Chians had a pressing need),
they gave it; for he held up an empty sack and said that it needed grain.
²⁶ Not to be confused with Thales of Miletus, traditionally the first Greek philosopher.
This Thales or Thaletas (the form of the name varies in different sources) was in fact a
poet. The story of his association with Lycurgus, and his reputation as a lawgiver as well as
a poet, can be found elsewhere; see, e.g., Aristotle, Politics 1274a29–30, Plutarch, Lycurgus 4.
Aristotle says that this is anachronistic, but the problems with the story may be worse than
that; it is doubtful whether Lycurgus actually existed, and Wallace 2015, 122–3 regards the
whole idea of Thales the artist-politician as an invention modeled after the fifth-century
Athenian Damon, musician and adviser to Pericles. Still, we need not doubt that there was a
poet named Thale(ta)s—even though none of his writings survive. We consistently hear
that he was from the town of Gortyn in Crete, but traveled to Sparta, and the best evidence
places him among the earliest of the archaic Greek lyric poets in the 7th century BCE. See
Pausanias 1.14.4, [Plutarch] On Music 1134B–F, 1146C, and other sources in Campbell
1988, 320–9.
²⁷ A judicial office in Sparta, generally known by the transliterated title Ephors.
²⁸ The words tas Spartas, “of Sparta”, are in the Doric dialect, used in Sparta itself (and
quite different from Sextus’ normal language), indicating that at least some of this wording
is direct quotation.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Yet they even blamed him for being a blabbermouth; the empty sack,
once shown, conveyed the Chians’ request well enough. [24] And so the
tragedian Ion was moved to say of them,
The city of Sparta does not have words as its ramparts,
But when Ares falls upon its army anew,
Counsel rules and the hand gets the job done,²⁹
given that at deliberation they are the best, but they can’t stand rhetoric.
Hence if cities do not throw out expertises, but they have thrown out
rhetoric, rhetoric cannot be an expertise. [25] Now, turning it around
and saying that some Greek cities have also evicted philosophers is
silly. For, first, they would not be able to provide evidence for this, as
those who have reached the opposite conclusion can do in the case of
rhetoric.³⁰ And then, even if some cities did throw out philosophy,
they did not throw out all of it as a kind, but certain schools, such as
the Epicurean, as being a teacher of pleasure, or the Socratic,³¹ as
belittling the divine. However, the aforementioned cities did not dis-
miss some rhetoric and admit some, but kept their distance from all of
it in common.
²⁹ Fr. 63 Nauck. The third line is also quoted in the scholia to the Iliad; Ion is named as
the author, but we are not told the name of the play.
³⁰ The Greek here is clear enough, but its purport is not. What will the people who make
the accusation about philosophers not be able to provide evidence for; and what is “the
opposite conclusion”? The obvious answer to the first question is “that some cities evicted
philosophers”; there is no other natural reference for “this”. (Pellegrin et al.’s suggestion,
that philosophy is not a technê, does not seem to be anchored in the text.) But that would be
an oddly sweeping statement, considering that the next sentence seems to concede that
some schools were evicted. (It is true that arguments of the form “P; but even if not-P,
Q (etc.)” are common in Sextus; but in such cases P is not usually an empirical claim whose
truth value is easy enough to discover.) On the second question, one would expect the
relevant point in the case of rhetoric to be that cities have thrown out rhetoricians. But it is
hard to see how this counts as opposite to the claim that cities evicted philosophers, since the
claim was that they did so in addition to (not instead of) evicting orators. (Pellegrin et al. are
even less plausible this time, suggesting that “the opposite conclusion” is that rhetoric is a
technê; the whole point of this paragraph is that evictions are a sign of non-expertise.) This
sentence, then, is something of a mystery, even if the general drift of the discussion is not
hard to understand.
³¹ Sextus speaks here of a Socratic “school” (hairesis). But in reality he means anyone
who thinks like Socrates himself (supposedly), who was executed for impiety. In fact,
most of the schools of philosophy that grew up after Socrates claimed some kind of
allegiance to him; the Epicureans and the Pyrrhonists are the only obvious exceptions.
But the nature of their beliefs about the divine varied widely; certainly not all could be
described as “belittling” it.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
e. Expertises are useful to their possessors or to cities,

as rhetoric is not (26–42)
[26] In addition to what has been said, if rhetoric is definitely an
expertise, it will be useful either to the person who has it or to cities, as
are the other forms of expertise; but it is beneficial neither to the person
who has it nor to cities, as we shall establish; therefore it does not stand as
an expertise. [27] It is not beneficial to the person who has it, since first,
one has to hang around in assemblies and archive rooms, whether one
wants to or not, and spend time with bad guys, shifty characters,
informers, descending to the same places as them, and then one has to
keep one’s self-respect in short supply, so as not to seem an easy target
to those with less of a conscience, [28] and to speak with arrogance
and to project daring like a weapon, so as to be frightening to one’s
opponents, and to turn into a deceiver and a conjuror, raised in the worst
practices—adultery, theft, ingratitude to one’s parents—for the purpose
of exposing these things effectively when needed, or again, muddying
the waters, [29], and to have lots of enemies and hatred for them all,
some because they have faced a lawsuit, and others who know that
someone who is working for hire is bound to treat themselves the same
as he has treated others, if hooked by larger takings, [30] along with the
fact that one has to be in a contest all the time, and like a pirate,
sometimes fleeing and sometimes pursuing, so that one is worn out,
jostled night and day by those who have things going on, and one’s life is
full of wailing and tears, when some are taken away to prison and others
to the drum.³² So that rhetoric is harmful to the one who has it.
[31] Then again, nor is it beneficial to cities. For the laws bind cities
together, and just as when the body is destroyed the soul perishes,³³ so
³² An instrument of torture and execution similar to the rack. Note that the entire
passage from the beginning of [27] to here has been one enormous and elaborate sentence;
in condemning the uselessness of rhetoric, Sextus is here assuming the pose of a rhetorician
to the point of parody. On this see Sluiter 2000, 105–6 (and cf. 1.41–3 for a similar tactic
with respect to grammar).
³³ With Pellegrin et al. and Jürß, I retain the mss. reading hôs psuchê sômatos ekphthar-
entos. Mau, following Theiler, deletes psuchê and inserts soma <pneuma>tos, yielding the
sense “the body perishes when the breath [= the soul] is destroyed”. Theiler appeals to a
Stoic parallel (SVF I.138). But the idea that the soul’s survival is dependent on that of the
body is quite congenial to an Epicurean outlook, and Jürß points to a neat parallel from
Epicurus’ Letter to Herodotus (DL 10.65).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
too cities are ruined when the laws are done away with. Which is why
Orpheus, writer about gods,³⁴ points to their necessity³⁵ by saying
There was a time when mortals took the flesh-eating life
From one another; the stronger feasted on the weaker mortal.³⁶
[32] For when no law was in charge, each person held justice in his own
hands, just as it is up to
Fishes and wild animals and winged birds
To eat one another, since there is no justice among them,³⁷
until the god, pitying them in their hardship, sent them goddesses
bringing laws, whom humans admired more for their putting an end
to the lawlessness of eating one another than for their making life
civilized with crops. [33] Hence the smart Persians have a law that
when their king has died, they are to act lawlessly for the next five
days; the point is not to suffer, but to learn in real life what a bad thing
lawlessness is, bringing on slaughter and rape and, if anything, worse, in
order for them to become more faithful protectors of their kings. [34] But
rhetoric was wheeled in against the laws. An enormous proof of this is
that among the barbarians, where either there is no rhetoric at all or it is
rare, the laws stay unshaken, while among those who accept³⁸ it, innov-
ations are made in them every day—[35] among the Athenians, for
example, as Plato the poet of Old Comedy³⁹ declares. For he says that
³⁴ With Bekker I alter the mss. êthologos, “depicter of character” (retained by Mau), to
theologos. (Êthologos is a rare word and appears only once in Sextus, in a quotation from
Timon.) A theologos is not a “theologian” (as Bury has it)—that is, someone with a
theoretical approach to the study of the divine; rather, as Aristotle makes clear (Metaphysics
983b29, 1000a9), the word refers to people who tell stories about gods, generally in poetry—
which would fit the sorts of writings generally attributed to Orpheus quite well. For another
good example of this in Sextus himself, see M 9.192.
³⁵ i.e. to the necessity of the laws.
³⁶ Sextus quotes the same lines in his discussion of god in Against the Physicists (M 9.15);
they are not otherwise attested. Kern 1972, in which these lines appear as fr. 292, interprets
them as belonging to a poem addressing the Orphic prohibition on killing and meat-eating
in general (on this see, e.g., Plato, Laws 782c). The lines may have inspired the opening of
the famous fragment on human prehistory and the invention of gods, attributed by Sextus
to Critias and appearing a little later in Against the Physicists (M 9.54), which also begins
“There was a time” and goes on to describe a state of violence and lawlessness.
³⁷ Hesiod, Works and Days 277–8.
³⁸ With Blomqvist 1968, 79 and several mss. I read prosiemenois, instead of proiemenois,
preferred by Mau.
³⁹ See note on 6.15.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
if someone has been out of town for three months, he no longer

recognizes the city, but like those who walk around at night, he goes
down beside the walls as some kind of cargo-carriers would do⁴⁰—as far
as the laws are concerned it’s not the same city. [36] That it is against the
laws is clear also from what they assume in their “expertises”⁴¹ (which are
a corruption of expertise). For sometimes they advise us to pay attention
to the letter of the lawgiver’s words, as if these are clear and need no
interpretation, while at other times they turn around and advise us to
follow not the letter of the words, but the thought; [37] for one who thinks
it fit to punish the person “brandishing iron over someone” did not think it
fit to punish the person brandishing iron in any way (like a ring),⁴² or of
any kind, such as a needle, but—if we take a close look at his thought—
wanted to exact the penalty from the person who dared to kill a man. [38]
And sometimes they tell us to read the laws with abbreviations and to
assemble an alternative sense from what is left. And often they define
ambiguous expressions, helping themselves to the signification that suits
them; and they do tons of other things that contribute to the overthrow of
the laws. Hence the Byzantine orator, asked how the Byzantines’ law was
doing, said “as I like”. [39] For just as jugglers cheat the eyes of the people
watching by the speed of their hands, so orators, by resorting to anything,
dim the thinking of the judges towards the law and steal their votes. [40]
Then again, no one but the orators has dared to promulgate the kind
of decrees that go against the law. At any rate Demosthenes, by a lot of
⁴⁰ The references to the night-walkers and to “going down beside the walls” are obscure,
but are presumably intended to convey a sense of alienation. Aggaros, here translated
“cargo-carrier”, was originally a Persian word for an ambassador (Theopompus, fr. 109);
but later it came to be used as a derogatory word for a merchant or person who transports
cargo. Either would qualify as someone who visits a place only occasionally, as the thought
seems to require, but the second seems more natural in context. (The entry for aggaros in
LSJ is confusing; it includes references to Herodotus and Xenophon where the word does
not appear—these are withdrawn in the 1996 Revised Supplement.)
⁴¹ Technê, “expertise”, can refer to a treatise on the expertise in question. Since the word
appears here in the plural, I take Sextus to be talking about such treatises rather than about
the expertise of rhetoric itself; and the advice in the next few sections could very well have
been distilled from rhetorical handbooks. I nonetheless translate literally in order to
preserve the wordplay with “corruption of expertise” (kakotechnois).
⁴² Mau marks daktulion, “ring”, as corrupt, but there is no need for this. As Blomqvist
1971, 19 points out, the example of a ring—which could literally be understood to fall under
the description “iron” in laws forbidding the wielding of iron, whereas clearly iron weapons
of a certain size and kind are meant—also occurs in Aristotle, Rhetoric 1374a35, and
Quintilian, Training in Oratory 7.6.8.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
shouting and outlandish talk, snatched away the law that was moved
against Ctesiphon.⁴³ And this led Aeschines to say “It’s a bad habit that
has come to the law-courts; the accuser defends himself, the one facing the
indictment makes accusations, and the jurors are compelled to bring their
votes about things of which they are not judges”.⁴⁴ [41] But if rhetoric is
against the laws, in addition to not being of any use it is even harmful.
Besides, not even the orators who lead the people step forward for the good
of cities; just as the seller of drugs stands to the doctor,⁴⁵ so the leader of the
people⁴⁶ stands to the statesman. [42] For he gives the masses bad teach-
ings, saying the things that gratify them, and by his slanders alienates them
against the best people. In his words and how he seems, he promises to do
everything on behalf of what is for the common benefit, but in reality he
provides sustenance from nothing healthy—like nurses who give the
children a little of the baby food and then gulp down the whole thing.
f. An attempted response based on a distinction between

two kinds of rhetoric, and its failure (43–7)
[43] This much is said, then, by the Academics⁴⁷ in assault mode about
rhetoric, so that if it is beneficial neither to the person who has it nor to
⁴³ Ctesiphon proposed that Demosthenes be honored with a crown at the festival of

Dionysus for his services to the city. Aeschines brought a lawsuit against Ctesiphon for
doing this, alleging (in his speech Against Ctesiphon) that this was illegal on at least two
grounds: Demosthenes was still in office when the proposal was made, and the festival of
Dionysus was not a legitimate place for such awards. However, Aeschines was defeated by
Demosthenes with his speech On the Crown, which emphasizes political self-justification
rather than legal niceties, and which is widely considered his masterpiece. In this speech
Demosthenes could be said to have “snatched away” (i.e. rendered irrelevant) the laws that
Ctesiphon’s proposal violated. However, it is odd to call these laws “the law that was moved
against Ctesiphon”; these laws were not enacted in order to obstruct him, as this language
would suggest, but were already in place. Pellegrin et al. work hard to provide a rendering
that fits the historical facts (“la loi incriminée dans l’affaire contre Ctésiphon”), but this is a
strained reading of the Greek. It seems to me preferable to translate in a natural way and to
accept that Sextus may have been vague about an episode several centuries earlier, having
relied on sources that may themselves have been sketchy on the details.
⁴⁴ A near-quotation from Aeschines, Against Ctesiphon 193.
⁴⁵ The assumption being that doctors are reputable and sellers of drugs are not.
A modern parallel for the latter might be the snake-oil salesman or someone who sells
alternative pharmaceuticals of dubious value.
⁴⁶ Dêmagôgos, often, but not always, understood in the negative sense of the English
“demagogue”. In order for the words “not even” to have a point, dêmagôgos must be
understood in such a way that a positive influence on the city is at least imaginable; hence
my preference for the neutral “leader of the people”.
⁴⁷ Cf. [20].
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
those around him, it cannot be an expertise. But in defense against this

some say that rhetoric is twofold—there is the sophisticated kind, current
among the wise, and there is the kind current among average people—and
that the accusation holds not against the sophisticated kind but against
that of the inferior. [44] Some also use examples: just as the pancration⁴⁸
contestant who beats up his father gets to be a father-beater not because
of his expertise in pancration, but because of his bad ways, so the person
fully trained in rhetoric who then uses it against his country and laws
is that way not because of rhetoric, but because of his own degeneracy.
[45] But the first ones have not noticed that without wanting to, they
have conceded the non-existence of rhetoric; for since a wise person is
not found, or is rarely found, the rhetoric current among them will also
have to be non-existent or rare. [46] And against the second it must
be said that the example is unlike the subjects of investigation at hand;
for athletics does not point towards its own use for bad purposes, like
beating your father, whereas rhetoric teaches this as its main job, such as
how we are to make the small big and the big small, and how just things
are to appear unjust and unjust things just. [47] And in general, since
rhetoric consists of words in opposition, it is not possible to say that the
sophisticated person is an orator and the one not of this kind is not. For
whatever the orator is like, he definitely ought to train fully in opposed
speeches, and in things that are opposed lies injustice; therefore every
orator, being an accomplice in injustice, is unjust.
3. Problems stemming from rhetoric’s

subject matter (48–59)
a. A cluster of varied objections (48–51)
[48] But that rhetoric is not to be called an expertise is clear from this;
after this let’s look at its non-existence on the basis of the material it is
concerned with. Indeed, the main point was given by us earlier in Against
the Grammarians: if grammar busies itself over speech, and there is
neither a word nor speech composed of words, as we showed, because
⁴⁸ Pancration was a combat sport in which almost all techniques were permitted—
boxing, wrestling, and more; the etymology suggests “winning by every means”.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
that of which there are not the parts is non-existent,⁴⁹ it will follow that
rhetoric too is non-existent. [49] Still, it should be said, first, that if
rhetoric does its work on speech, it is not necessarily in the realm of
expertise; the speech must have good effects. For just as drugs are
different, some being deadly and others bringing recovery, and the
procedure concerned with the deadly ones is not any expertise nor is it
medicine, while the one that deals with those bringing recovery is both
an expertise and beneficial for life, so too some speeches have good
effects and others tend to harm, and if rhetoric deals not with the ones
having good effects but with the harmful ones, then besides not being an
expertise it will even be a corruption of expertise. But we did establish
earlier that it insinuates itself into most harmful speeches; so it does not
stand as an expertise. [50] Then again, if being an informer and playing
to the crowd take practice in speaking but are not expertises, it is clear
that neither will rhetoric, considered in terms of the bare fact of having
mastered the speaking ability, get to be an expertise. But being an
informer and playing to the crowd do take practice in speaking and
are not expertises; so nor is rhetoric. [51] Of course, in addition to what
has been said, this is not peculiar to rhetoric, but is the common element
in every discipline that uses words; medicine too speaks well about its
own rules and music about musical ones. None of these is rhetoric just
because of the speaking, and for this reason, what our investigation is
about isn’t either.⁵⁰
b. Rhetoric fails in its aim of constructing fine speech (52–9)
[52] And to say it briefly, rhetoric does not even construct fine speech. For
it does not indicate to us the rules of expertise for this—for example, that
the user of fine speech is, first, the person who does not veer away from
what is said ordinarily (as we indicated in Against the Grammarians⁵¹),
and then, the one who has an assured control of the matter being thought
⁴⁹ See 1.131ff. (Mau and Pellegrin et al. point to 99ff.; but that has to do with the smallest
elements of language, represented by individual letters, whereas 131ff. is about words and
combinations of words, and makes more explicit use of difficulties concerning parts.)
⁵⁰ i.e. is not rhetoric. To spell out the thought a little further: the generalized ability to
speak, as exercised particularly in political and judicial contexts, does not amount to
rhetoric, where “rhetoric” is understood, as occasionally elsewhere, as by definition a
genuine expertise. This, then, is a slightly roundabout way of saying that there is no such
thing as rhetoric, understood in that honorific fashion.
⁵¹ 1.189ff.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
about; for speech gets shaky if these things are not known—which is why,
with a view to this, we say that each person is a good orator about his own
pursuits. [53] And along with this, the person who has inquired closely
into which words conform to ordinary usage and which are a matter of
opinion, assigns the appropriate role to each. A bathroom is called a
“men’s room” in ordinary usage from the fact that men frequent it,⁵² but
“the rich man is blessed” and “death is an evil” are matters of opinion; for
that death is one of the evils and wealth one of the goods is unclear and a
matter of opinion. [54] Also, the user of fine speech is the one who has
apprehended for what purpose we make substitutions of words, either so
as not to talk straightforwardly when straight talk brings offense, or so as
to make something clear, as when we alter “cause” to “agent” or “sign” to
“indicator”. [55] If, then, as I said, the orators had any expert rules about
these things, perhaps it would be from rhetoric that they would possess
fine speaking and refined expression. But in fact, since they do not touch
this theorizing,⁵³ or if they do touch it, it is not in virtue of rhetoric, it must
be said that speaking finely is not the property of rhetoric. [56] And speech
in itself is neither fine nor inferior. A proof of this is that the same thing
when spoken by a sophisticated and serious person offends us, but when
spoken by an actor playing for laughs, not at all. And this is why, when the
orator is said to be capable of constructing fine speech, it is either in virtue
of the fact that he constructs speech that puts on display things having
good effects, or speech of the kind that good Greek is,⁵⁴ or speech that lays
out its subject matter clearly and concisely and elaborately.⁵⁵ [57] But it is
⁵² This almost works as a literal translation, at least in American English, where

“bathroom” and “men’s room” are both common equivalents for “men’s toilet”. But the
topic in the Greek is actual bathing rather than relieving oneself; a precise translation would
be “a bathroom [or simply, a bath] is called ‘men’s’ from the fact that it washes men”.
⁵³ That is, they do not come close to constructing a systematic account of how to speak
finely. Sextus’ use of theôria in this context is difficult to render precisely with a single word. It
can mean “theory” (cf. 1.255, 307), but it refers more basically to the activity of contemplating
or speculating about some subject (cf. 1.46, 251, 303); here both senses seem relevant, and
I have tried to capture this with “theorizing”.
⁵⁴ The syntax of the “either . . . or” construction is slightly out of control, and I reproduce
this effect in the translation.
⁵⁵ In its adjectival form this word (egkataskeuos) is elsewhere contrasted with “simple”
(haplous) to describe different kinds of narrative. On Invention (Peri heureseôs), a rhetorical
work attributed (falsely, it is generally believed) to the second-century CE author Hermogenes,
distinguishes the “simple” kind from two others, the egkataskeuos and another, also generally
rendered “elaborate” in English (endiaskeuos); the difference between these latter two is,
roughly, that the first involves elaboration of subject matter (literally “causes”, aitiai), the
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
not in so far as it reveals things having good effects; for orators know
nothing about these things. Nor in so far as it is speech of the kind that
good Greek is; for this is common to those who pay attention to
ordinary usage and the expertises of free people.⁵⁶ Nor in so far as it
reveals its subject matter clearly and concisely and elaborately; for, on
the contrary, in wanting to speak in “periods”⁵⁷ and with “concluding
second elaboration of style (2.7.70–84). This threefold distinction has echoes in other
rhetorical texts. But one can also find egkataskeuos alone spoken of as the “elaborate”, rather
than “simple”, form of narrative; Dionysius of Halicarnassus (c.60–c.7 BCE) uses the term
alongside “lofty” (hupsêlê) and “extravagant” (perittê) (On the Arrangement of Words 18, l.
81). Sextus’ juxtaposition of the term with “clearly” and “concisely” is curious. He goes on to
argue in [57] that elaborate stylistic devices are actually inimical to clarity and conciseness.
But whether or not egkataskeuos would have included such stylistic elaboration, one would
think that clarity and conciseness were at least potentially at odds with elaboration of any
kind. Perhaps he is not entirely clear on the significance of the term in technical rhetorical
contexts; or perhaps we are not aware of its full range of connotations.
⁵⁶ The temptation to translate this phrase (elutherais technais) by “liberal arts” is almost
irresistible, and other translators have generally succumbed (Bury, Hankinson 1995, 251,
and Latin and French equivalents in Fabricius, Pellegrin et al.). But the phrase in the plural
appears nowhere else in the Greek corpus. It occurs in the singular in a letter from the
Hippocratic corpus (Letter 11, l. 21); medicine is called a “free technê” and therefore not to
be paid for—monetary motives would limit the honesty of one’s diagnosis. Now this is not
unrelated to Seneca’s explanation of the Latin artes liberales, already in use in his day;
according to him, it refers to fields of study unrelated to monetary gain (Letter 88.1). But as
Seneca tells us later in the same letter, the Greek equivalent of artes liberales was egkuklious
[technas] (88.23); compare Sextus’ own term egkuklia mathêmata, “cyclical disciplines”,
in 1.7, and see the Introduction, opening paragraph of Section 4. Still, despite the extreme
rarity of Sextus’ term here, it must presumably refer to a set of standard upper-class
educational accomplishments, and hence is at least in the same neighborhood as these
other Latin and Greek phrases. But note, finally, that Sextus is here contrasting “those who
pay attention to ordinary usage and the expertises of free people” (the Greek syntax makes
clear that this is a single group) with the rhetoricians—the former being just as capable
as the latter of speaking good Greek. Yet rhetoric is, of course, included among the liberal
arts or “cyclical disciplines”. One way of understanding Sextus’ critique, then, is that the
discipline of rhetoric as actually taught is too specialized and impractical to fulfill the
function in general education that, as a member of the “cyclical disciplines”, it is meant to
perform. Interestingly, Seneca’s letter also criticized some practitioners of these fields for
excessive specialization.
⁵⁷ Periodos is the Greek term. The English word “period” is not much used in this sense
today. But Merriam-Webster includes “a well-proportioned sentence of several clauses” as
one of its meanings; the OED has “a sentence consisting of several clauses, grammatically
connected, and rhetorically constructed”. Together these give a fair idea of what a periodos
was. Cicero gives a series of Latin renderings of the term that are themselves hard to
translate, but here is an effort: “rounding out” (ambitus), “speaking in a rounded way”
(circuitus), “grouping [of words]” (comprehensio), “forming [of words] into a continuous
sentence” (continuatio), and “circumlocution” (circumscriptio) (Orator 204, cf. Brutus 162).
Aristotle’s definition is “speech having a beginning and an end in itself and a size that is
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
flourishes”,⁵⁸ and not to have vowel colliding with vowel,⁵⁹ and to close
a thought with a like ending,⁶⁰ the orators are excluded from clear and
concise explanation of the subject matter. [58] It is no part of rhetoric,
therefore, to construct fine speech and speaking well. And given this,
no one would choose a manner of speaking like this. First, because it is
not applicable to the common practice of life; none of us talks like the
orators in the law-courts—they would be laughed at. And they them-
selves, after departing from their business and court contests, always
adopt another style of conversation with those around them. [59] And
then, as I said, talking in the punctilious manner of oratory produces
offense. We should apply what was said earlier about the grammarians
who deal with analogy,⁶¹ and teach that those who want to speak well
should pay attention to ordinary usage rather than some expertise that
is quite beside the point.
4. Problems stemming from rhetoric’s

end (60–88)
a. Persuasion as the agreed end of rhetoric (60–2)
[60] Moving on now, let us devise our objections from rhetoric’s end. So
again, it should be said that if there is no end for rhetoric, rhetoric is
nothing, because every state of expertise is referred to some end. But
there isn’t any end for rhetoric, as we will show; therefore rhetoric is
not an expertise. [61] Most smart people think that the ultimate job of
rhetoric is persuading. Plato, with this in view, said that it is the ability
to persuade through words, Xenocrates called it the craftsman of
easily taken in” (Rhetoric 1409a35–7); he goes on to say that a period can have several
clauses, but he does not take this as definitive, as appears to be assumed later. Yet there still
remains the idea that the length should not be excessive; Cicero also speaks of the breath as
limiting the length of a period (Brutus 34).
⁵⁸ Epiphônêma, defined as “an expression added for ornament” ([Demetrius], On Style
106) and “an exclamation at the climax of something narrated or proved” (Quintilian,
Training in Oratory 8.5.11); there is a fuller description in [Hermogenes], On Invention 4.9.
⁵⁹ A word ending with a vowel followed by a word beginning with a vowel is known as
hiatus. Many orators, Isocrates and Demosthenes among them, avoided hiatus as stylistic-
ally harsh.
⁶⁰ i.e. like the previous sentence(s) or portion(s) of the sentence; this is the rhetorical
figure still known as homoiotelouton (in Greek, “ending alike”).
⁶¹ 1.179ff.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
persuasion,⁶² and Aristotle the ability to observe the available means

of persuasion.⁶³ And Aristo, who was close to Critolaus, said that its
target was persuasion, but its end was obtaining persuasion.⁶⁴ [62] And
Hermagoras said that the job of the perfect orator was to dispose as
persuasively as possible the political question posed. Athenaeus calls
rhetoric an ability with words aiming at the persuasion of the audience,
and Isocrates says that orators have nothing else as their business than
the science of persuasion.
b. The elusiveness of a determinate and manageable scope

for an expertise of “the persuasive” (63–71)
[63] Hence we too, in line with the way they are going, say right away
that a thing is called “persuasive” in three ways: in one way it is what is
plainly true and by producing in us an appearance of truth draws us to
assent; in another it is what is false and by producing in us an appearance
of truth draws us to assent (which orators are in the habit of calling
“likely”, from being like what is true); and in the third way it is what is
common to the true and the false.⁶⁵ [64] Well, with the persuasive being
spoken of in so many ways, it is fair to ask the orators in terms of which
of these “persuasives” they think rhetoric aims at persuading, and over
which of them they maintain that it exercises an expertise—over what is
plainly true, or over what is like this but false, or what ranges over the
ground common to both. [65] But it cannot be over what is plainly true;
for this persuades and draws us to assent all on its own, so that the
persuasion applied to it from rhetoric is redundant. And just as we need
no expertise to be persuaded that it is now day and that I am now
⁶² At the start of the book this phrase was used in the summary of Plato’s definition of
rhetoric (cf. [2]), and the definition attributed to Xenocrates was different (cf. [6]).
⁶³ Aristotle, Rhetoric 1355b25–6 (with alterations only as needed to conform to the
syntax of Sextus’ sentence). Cf. [8].
⁶⁴ The distinction between “target” (skopos) and “end” (telos) is Stoic; see Stobaeus
2.77.1–5 (6c), and cf. LS 63A3, with the comment in vol. II. It is therefore a little odd to
find Aristo, a Peripatetic, appealing to it, but such cross-school borrowings became increas-
ingly common in later antiquity. We know virtually nothing else about this Aristo;
Quintilian, Training in Oratory 2.15.19–20 is the only other source that gives any detail.
Quintilian names him as a pupil of Critolaus and quotes from him a definition of rhetoric
that limits its persuasiveness to the common people (which Quintilian interprets as a put-
down of rhetoric; cf. [12], [20] on Critolaus), but does not address the point raised here.
⁶⁵ The same threefold distinction among kinds of persuasiveness appears in Sextus’
account of Carneades’ practical criterion, the “persuasive appearance”; see M 7.174.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
conversing, which are plain matters discovered by themselves, so too we

don’t need rhetoric to assent to the fact that the murderer caught in the
act is a murderer. [66] And besides, if rhetoric is set up to study what is
clearly true, in so far as it is persuasive, it will surely also turn out to study
what is unpersuasive; for these are grasped in terms of their relation to
one another,⁶⁶ and just as the person who has apprehended what is on
the left necessarily also focuses on the thing it is to the left of, by the same
argument the person who discerns what is persuasive and true also has
knowledge (from what is not like this) of what is true and unpersuasive.
[67] Since, then, everything true, whatever it is like, is either persuasive or
unpersuasive, it will follow that rhetoric is such as to study everything
true. But from its studying everything true there will follow its study-
ing everything false as well; for just as the person capable of discerning
what is persuasive will necessarily also be capable of discerning what
is unpersuasive, by the same argument the arbiter of everything true
focuses also on everything opposed to it—that is, what is false. And if so,
rhetoric will be knowledge of true and false. But it’s obviously not that; so
nor does it study what is true on its own.⁶⁷ [68] Then again, it claims to
make the case on opposite sides, but opposites are not true;⁶⁸ therefore
rhetoric does not aim at what is true. Nor, however, at what is false; for
no expertise deals with falsehood—if rhetoric strives after this, it must
either not be an expertise or be a corruption of expertise, in addition to
again encountering the same impasses. [69] For if it has to do with
persuasive falsehood, it will definitely also know what is unpersuasive.
Since, then, every falsehood is either persuasive or unpersuasive, it will
turn into a science of everything false, and for this reason of everything
true as well, so that it is no different from dialectic—which is absurd on
multiple counts. [70] Yet if it makes the case on opposite sides, and
opposites are not false,⁶⁹ it cannot be such as to study falsehood. Moreover,
if likelihood is what provides the most opportunities for being true, and
⁶⁶ Along with numerous manuscripts I do not read nun, included by Mau, between tên
and hôs pros allêla.
⁶⁷ Bury translates “what is self-evidently true”. My reading of tou autothen alêthous is
rather as referring to the true considered in isolation, rather than in combination with the
false; this has been the contrast most recently under consideration. Pellegrin et al.’s “ce qui
est de soi-même vrai” and Fabricius’ “quod est ex se verum” seem to be ambiguous between
these two readings; perhaps this is intentional, and if so, perhaps it captures an ambiguity in
Sextus himself.
⁶⁸ i.e. not both true. ⁶⁹ Again, not both false.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
the unreasonable, which is the opposite of this, is what has few and rare
opportunities for being true, in any event rhetoric, which takes on the case
in contrary directions, aims no more at what is likely than at the opposite.
[71] Then again, nor does it strive after what is common to true and false;
for falsehood is bound up in this. And that an expertise should employ
falsehoods is a standing absurdity, along with the fact that (in the manner
we showed before) it follows that it also becomes a science of both true and
false—and this is not how the matter is. But if rhetoric can study neither
true nor false nor what is common to both, and beyond these nothing is
persuasive, it cannot be for rhetoric to persuade.
c. Rhetoric’s lack of a monopoly on persuasion, and lack

of success compared with ordinary speech (72–8)
[72] These, then, are the objections that we see fit to use against the
orators; but others are in the habit of employing the ones about to be
mentioned, which will be there for whoever wishes to use them. They
say, either rhetoric is an expertise or it is not. And if it is not, let’s not
even investigate its end; but if it is, how can it have an end that is
common to the non-orator? For it is open to many to persuade, owing
to wealth or beauty or reputation, as we showed earlier.⁷⁰ [73] And often,
when the speeches have been delivered and the judges have been per-
suaded accordingly, the orators nonetheless wait, anxiously expecting
some other end, and since they wait, they are missing something. There-
fore the end of rhetoric is not persuading, but if anything, what follows
upon that afterwards. [74] Besides, rhetorical speech is opposite to
persuasion. First, it is over the top, and most people are offended by its
over-the-top quality; [75] and then, speech that is unclear is not persua-
sive, but the speech of orators, which involves periods⁷¹ and enthy-
memes,⁷² is less clear;⁷³ therefore speech that comes from rhetoric is
not persuasive. [76] And it is speech that creates goodwill in the judges
that is persuasive; but what creates goodwill is not rhetorical speech, but
the kind that is simple and displays the ordinary person’s manner of
⁷⁰ Cf. [2]–[4]. ⁷¹ Cf. [57] with n. 57.

⁷² An enthymeme is an argument or demonstration in a rhetorical context. It is often said
to be an argument in which one or more premises are suppressed, or in which the premises are
merely probable. For a good account of its usage in Aristotle, who first employed it as a
technical term in rhetorical theory and whose account was highly influential, see Rapp 2010.
⁷³ i.e. less clear because of these elements.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
expression. For that of the orator is opposed by all those who have a hard
time with excess; for even if the orator constructs a case for what is just,
they feel as if it is not due to the nature of the things, but due to the
orator’s stopping at nothing, that just things seem to them so; [77] but
the ordinary person’s manner of expression comes across as weak, and so
everyone is on his side, and attributes more justice to what is less just
because the case is constructed by someone straightforward and ordin-
ary. This is the reason why in ancient Athens there was not the option of
an advocate to defend those undergoing judgement at the council of the
Areopagus, but each person made speeches on his own behalf to the best
of his ability—no twisting and turning and no going to any lengths. [78]
Then again, if the orators trusted themselves about having a power of
persuasion, they shouldn’t be arousing pity or compassion or anger or
other things of this kind, which in no way persuade, but lead astray the
judges’ good sense and put justice in the dark.
d. Alternative possible ends for rhetoric, and arguments

against them (78–87)
Well, that it is not possible for persuading to be the end of rhetoric has
been shown; [79] but some say that its end is not this, but finding the
available words; others, creating an opinion about the issues in the judges
that is such as the speakers want, others, what is beneficial, and others,
winning. [80] Against the first of these it should be said that if rhetoric
claims to find the words available for the purpose, it claims to find either
those that are true or those that are possible to speak. But not those that
are true; for they must have a standard and criterion for discerning the
true and the false, which they don’t have. Nor those that are possible to
speak; for if they don’t know the true ones, nor will they recognize the
ones possible to speak. [81] It is not for rhetoric,⁷⁴ therefore, to find the
words that are present and possible. Besides, rhetoric is none other than
finding the available words.⁷⁵ Hence if one calls this the end, one is in
⁷⁴ Mau, following Theiler, inserts <telos> after rêtorikês, yielding the sense “It is not
rhetoric’s end, therefore, . . . ”. This seems to me unnecessary; the text as it stands is
acceptable Greek, and it is clear from the context that we are speaking of the telos of
rhetoric. (For a similar case, see the end of [71].)
⁷⁵ Mau conjectures a lacuna before this sentence (though he does not print it in the text
itself, and in fact prints this sentence and the previous one as a single sentence divided only
by a comma). I suspect this is correct. The juxtaposition of “It is not for rhetoric, therefore,
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
effect saying that rhetoric is the end of rhetoric. [82] And what the orator
says he does everything for the sake of—that would be the end; but it is
not for the sake of the available lines of attack that the orator does
everything, but for what follows after those lines of attack; so that
would not be the end. [83] Then again, the end that the orator has
to achieve is also the one the ordinary person who hired him has to
achieve; but finding the available words is not what the ordinary
person is striving to achieve—it’s something else; that, therefore, will
turn out to be the end, not finding the available words. [84] And nor is
it creating an opinion about the issues in the judges that is such as the
speakers want; for that is no different from persuading, since the
person who has persuaded has created an opinion about the issues
in the judges that is such as he wants. But we showed that the end of
rhetoric is not persuading,⁷⁶ so that it is not creating an opinion either.
[85] Nor, however, is it the beneficial, as some have maintained; for
what is the end of a part cannot be the end of the whole; but the
orators do say that the beneficial is the end of the deliberative part of
rhetoric; therefore it is not the end of rhetoric as a whole. And what is
the end of all expertise in common cannot be the end of rhetoric alone;
but the beneficial is the end of every expertise in life; therefore it is not
that of rhetoric more specifically. [86] It remains, then, that its end is
winning—which again is impossible. For the person who often does
not achieve the end applying to grammar cannot be a grammarian,
and the one who often does not achieve the end applying to music
cannot be a musician. And so the one who often does not achieve the
end applying to rhetoric cannot be an orator. [87] But the orator is
defeated more often than he wins—as much more so as he is more
able, since it is those who have unjust business who rush to him.
Therefore the orator is not an orator. And the person who does not
achieve the end applying to rhetoric would not be praised; but we do
sometimes praise an orator who has been defeated; therefore the end
of rhetoric is not winning.
to find the words that are present and possible” and “Besides, rhetoric is none other than
finding the available words” is extremely awkward. Even though the latter speaks of what
rhetoric is, rather than what its end is, the significance of that distinction has not yet been
made clear (it comes out in the argument to follow).
⁷⁶ See [60]–[71].
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
e. Interim conclusion (88)

[88] So that if rhetoric neither has material on which it practices its
expertise, nor an end to which it is referred, rhetoric cannot exist. But it
has neither material nor an end, as we established;⁷⁷ therefore rhetoric
does not exist.
5. Problems concerning the parts

of rhetoric (89–105)
a. The three parts of rhetoric, and the incompatibility
of their ends (89–92)
[89] One might also create impasses for them from its parts. They say
that the parts of rhetoric are the judicial, the deliberative, and the
laudatory, and of these the end of the judicial part is the just, of the
deliberative part the beneficial, and of the laudatory part the admirable—
which right away brings impasse. [90] For if the purpose of the judicial is
one thing, and that of the deliberative is another, and not the same as
that of the laudatory, there is no way the end of the judicial can also
be the end of the deliberative, and the latter’s end will not be that of
the laudatory, and vice versa. Since, then, the end of the deliberative is
the beneficial, this cannot be the end of the judicial. But the end of the
judicial is the just; therefore the just is not beneficial. [91] And again,
since just as these parts differ from one another, so too their ends will
differ, in so far as the end of the laudatory part is the admirable <and that
of the judicial the just, it will not be possible for the admirable> to be
<just> nor for the just to be admirable—which is absurd.⁷⁸ [92] Then
again, if the end of the whole of rhetoric is persuading, while that of the
judicial part is the just and of the deliberative part the beneficial and of
⁷⁷ Cf. [48]ff., [60]ff.

⁷⁸ Clearly some words have dropped out of the text; the manuscripts as they stand are
not intelligible. It is also pretty clear that the point of this sentence was to drive a wedge
between the just and the admirable, like with the just and the beneficial in the previous
sentence. The exact words to be supplied are a matter of pure guesswork, and I translate
Mau’s supplement (following Harder); Hervetus’ supplement, followed by Bury, yields the
slightly different sense “it is possible for the admirable not to be just and the just not
admirable”. Given the different word order in the Greek, Mau’s supplement is a single
continuous string of words, which is not the case for Hervetus’; but that is not necessarily a
reason to prefer it.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
the laudatory part the admirable, there is no way the just will be
persuasive, nor will the beneficial, nor will the admirable—which is in
conflict with rhetoric’s always aiming at persuading.
b. Arguments against the just as the aim of the judicial part (93–9)
[93] Besides, in the case of the judicial part, rhetoric will pull the judges
towards its end either through just words alone⁷⁹ or through just and
unjust words together. But if it is through just words alone, it will become
virtue; but what shoots for the persuasion of the crowd, which involves a
lot that is random and deceptive, is not virtue; therefore it is not through
just words alone that it naturally leads the listeners towards its end. [94]
And then, an argument on the opposite side will not even take shape if
it⁸⁰ is always pursuing the just; but without there being the opposite
argument, there will not even be any rhetoric, so that in this way, too,⁸¹ it
will not use just words alone. Then again, not unjust ones either, since it
will become injustice,⁸² and again, since there will not be the opposite
argument, it will be unable to take shape. It remains, therefore, that it
proceeds through both—which is much more absurd than the ones
before; for it will be at the same time virtue and vice, which is something
impossible. So it is not to be said that there is a judicial part of rhetoric
that has as its end the just.
[95] Now, in addition to what has been said, if the orator proposes to
present the just to the judges in the judicial part of rhetoric, the just that
they present is either right away apparent and agreed upon, or a matter
of dispute. But they would not say that it is apparent; for it is not over this
that rhetorical speech takes shape, since it is not a matter of dispute. [96]
What’s left, then, is that it is a matter of dispute—which also leads to
impasse; for those who pursue opposite lines of attack are so far from
resolving the dispute that they actually ratchet it up as a result of the
⁷⁹ Mau here inserts <ê dia tôn adikôn monon>, “or through unjust words alone”. This
option is indeed taken up in the sequel. But I am more inclined to regard this as a case of
mild carelessness on Sextus’ part than as a sign of a lacuna, and other editors have not
questioned the text at this point.
⁸⁰ i.e. rhetoric. ⁸¹ i.e. this is another way of reaching the same conclusion.
⁸² I follow Blomqvist 1968, 81 in reading adikia. The mss. read adika, which Mau,
following Bekker, alters to adikos, “unjust”. But Blomqvist observes that the noun “injust-
ice” is a better parallel to “virtue” above and “virtue and vice” below, and the corruption is
paleographically easy.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
oppositions, clouding the judges’ good sense. The story widely circulated
about Corax makes one sure of this. [97] A young man gripped by the
desire for rhetoric approached him promising to pay the fee he would
specify, if he won his first case. They came to an agreement, and at the
point when the youth was exhibiting sufficient skill, Corax asked for the
fee, but he refused. They both went over to the court and there was a
trial, which is when, they say, Corax first used a line of attack like this:
he said that whether he won or not, he ought to take the fee; if he won,
because he had won, and if he failed, according to the terms of the
agreement; for his opponent had agreed to pay the fee if he won his first
case—and he had won it, so he ought right away to pay the debt as
promised. [98] The judges cheered him for saying what was just, but
then it was the young man’s turn to speak, and he used the same line of
attack, not changing a thing: “Whether I win”, he said, “or I am defeated,
I shouldn’t pay Corax the fee; if I win, because I won, and if I fail,
according to the terms of the agreement; for I promised to pay the fee if
I win my first case, and if I fail I will not pay”. [99] Owing to the equal
strength of the rhetorical arguments, the judges came to suspension of
judgement and impasse; they threw them both out of the court, shouting
“a bad egg from a bad crow!”⁸³
c. Suggestion that the other two parts are vulnerable

to analogous arguments (100)
[100] Not to go on too long, the same sort of thing can be said about the
deliberative part as about the judicial part. As for the laudatory part,
besides coming under the same impasses, it is also without method.
d. The lack of any systematic procedure in the laudatory

part (101–5)
[101] For since not all people want to receive eulogies, or to receive them
for the same things, one who is going to give a fine eulogy has to know
the disposition of the person being eulogized; but not every way one
person is moved is grasped by another. Besides, the orators have not
supplied any method by which we will know who is to be eulogized and
when; therefore it is not possible to eulogize soundly using rhetoric. [102]
⁸³ The Greek for “crow” is corax. (The joke would of course work in English, since the
name Crow does exist.)
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
And the orator will give eulogies either for things that are not good but
seem to be, or for things that are in reality so. But not for things that are
not good—for he is doing further damage to those being eulogized—nor
for those that are; for he is not aware of these, when they are not
apprehended even by philosophers because of the undecided conflict
about them. Therefore the orator cannot eulogize anyone. [103] And
those who do not know for what one should eulogize cannot even
eulogize; but orators don’t know for what one must eulogize, as we will
establish; so they will not even be able to eulogize. For they say that one
should eulogize owing to birth and beauty and wealth and having lots of
children and the like, and conversely one should blame owing to bad
birth and ugliness and poverty. [104] Which is silly; for we have to draw
praise and blame from things that depend on us, but good birth and good
fortune and beauty and having lots of children and such things do not
depend on us, so that they should not be the source of praise—since if
good birth and having lots of children and everything of the sort are to be
praised just like that, Busiris and Amycus and Antaeus, killers of guests,
are to be praised, because they were sons of Poseidon, and Niobe is to
be praised because she had lots of children.⁸⁴ [105] And conversely, if
ugliness and poverty are something blameworthy, Odysseus is to be
blamed, because he took on the form of a beggar and
Went down to the city of hostile men,⁸⁵
and Perseus son of Zeus is to be blamed,⁸⁶ because he traversed the desert

of Libya with a bag over his shoulder, and Heracles, because he brought a
lion skin and a club with him on his ordeals.
6. Arguments for the non-existence

of demonstration (106–12)
[106] Summing up, suppose it’s a given that these are the parts of
rhetoric. But since it is established by demonstration that the just is
⁸⁴ Had, but did not keep. Niobe boasted of having many children whereas Leto, mother
of Apollo and Artemis, had only those two. She paid for this insult by having all her children
killed by Apollo and Artemis, and became a byword for grief. The story is first told in Iliad
24.602–17 (in a speech by Achilles to Priam, who has also lost many children in the war).
⁸⁵ Odyssey 4.246.
⁸⁶ With Bekker I read psekteos instead of the mss. psektos, which Mau retains.
BOOK : AGAINST THE RHETORICIANS 
just, and the beneficial is beneficial, and the admirable is admirable,

and since demonstration is nothing, nor will rhetoric, which consists of
such parts, turn out to be anything. That demonstration is nothing is
shown in more detail in Skeptical Treatises,⁸⁷ but more as a reminder, it
will be established here too. [107] If discourse is nothing, neither is
demonstration, being a form of discourse; but discourse is nothing, as
we established,⁸⁸ because of having its subsistence neither in utterances
nor in incorporeal sayables; therefore nor is there demonstration. [108]
Besides, if there is, it is either plain or unclear. And it is not plain; for it
includes something unclear, and for this reason is subject to disagree-
ment, since every matter about which there is disagreement turns out
unclear. [109] What’s left, therefore, is that it is unclear. But if so, it will
be grasped either by itself or by means of a demonstration. But it is not
grasped by itself (for it is unclear, and what is unclear is untrustworthy
if grasped by itself), nor by means of a demonstration, because of the
infinite regress; there is not, therefore, any demonstration. [110] And if
there is not generic demonstration, nor will there be any specific
demonstration, just as, if there is not animal, nor is there human; but
there is not generic demonstration, as we will establish; so nor is there
any other that is specific. For since it is unclear, as we argued before, it
ought to be established⁸⁹ through something. Through what, then?
Either through a generic or a specific demonstration. [111] But not
through a specific one, given that the existence of the generic kind is
not yet secure, nor through a generic one; for this is what is in dispute.
So there is not any generic demonstration. From which it follows that
the specific kind does not exist either. Besides, if generic demonstra-
tion has some premises and a conclusion, it is not generic, but if it
does not have them, it will not substantiate anything—much less even
its own existence. [112] And the demonstration that makes demon-
stration trustworthy is either questioned or unquestioned. But it can-
not be unquestioned for the reasons that were spoken before, and if it
⁸⁷ Cf. 1.26, 29, and accompanying notes. The topic of demonstration occupies the latter
part of M 8 (299ff.).
⁸⁸ Cf. 1.155–8. 1.134–40 also argues for the non-existence of discourse (logos), but on
different grounds from those mentioned here.
⁸⁹ With Blomqvist 1971, 19 I read katast<ath>ênai for the mss. katastênai.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
is questioned, it ought to be substantiated by another one, and that one

by another again, and so on to infinity. There is not, therefore, any
demonstration.
7. Transition to Against the Geometers (113)

[113] Well now, having argued against the chief theories of rhetoric, let
us make another start and take hold of the impasses facing the geometers
and the arithmeticians.
Book 3
Against the Geometers
1. Hypothesis in geometry (1–17)

a. Three senses of “hypothesis”, and proposal to concentrate
on the geometrical sense (1–6)
[1] Since the geometers, aware of the host of impasses at their heels,
resort to a practice that seems to be risk-free and safe—postulating the
starting points of geometry by hypothesis—it would work fine for us, too,
to set as the starting point¹ of our counter-argument against them the
argument about hypothesis. [2] Indeed Timon in his Against the Physi-
cists² maintained that this was what one first needed to ask: whether
anything was to be accepted by hypothesis. This is why it is fitting³ for us
too, in line with him, to do more or less the same in our essay against the
mathematicians.⁴ [3] But, to do things in the right order, we should say
¹ Archê, twice translated “starting point” in this sentence, can cover both the first
principles of a subject (as in the first usage) or the beginning of something in a much
more commonsense mode (as in the second). Sextus is doubtless aware of the ambiguity,
but cannot resist this piece of cheeky wordplay. Elsewhere I translate archê both by
“principle” and by “starting point”, depending on the context. Note, however, that there
is a further issue as to what sorts of things count as the “principles” of geometry; see n. 22
and Introduction, Section 4.
² Nothing else is known of this work. But the fact that Timon wrote something with this
title at all suggests that he was rather more interested in engaging with the details of
dogmatic theories than (by his own account) his mentor Pyrrho had been. On this, see
Bett 2014b, esp. section 3.
³ Oikeion, a word with the root meaning “of one’s household” or “of one’s family”. This
expression of affiliation with the early Pyrrhonists is rather unusual for Sextus. As noted in
the Introduction, his mentions of Pyrrho and Timon generally indicate broad agreement
with them, but nowhere else does he express an explicit desire to align himself with them.
⁴ Or perhaps, “against those in the disciplines”. The word in question is mathêmata, and
pros mathêmatikous, “against those who practice the mathêmata”, is the title of the entire
work. However, mathêmata can also refer more specifically to the mathematical disciplines,
and that seems to be the point here.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
by way of preface that hypothesis is spoken of in many different ways,

although for now it will be sufficient to mention three: in one way it is the
plot of a drama, as when we say that there is a tragic and a comic
“hypothesis”, and certain “hypotheses” by Dicaearchus of the stories of
Euripides and Sophocles⁵—what we are calling “hypothesis” being none
other than the plot of the drama. [4] In another signification the inves-
tigation of particulars in rhetoric is called a hypothesis, as when sophists
in their discourses often tend to say, “let’s posit a hypothesis”.⁶ And then,
in a third application, we call the starting point of a demonstration a
hypothesis, which is the assuming of a fact for establishing something.⁷ [5]
In this way we say that Asclepiades used three hypotheses for establishing
the obstruction that brings about fever:⁸ one, that there are certain intel-
ligible pores⁹ in us, differing in size from one another; second, that
⁵ i.e. summaries of the plots (of which many survive, though their authors are not usually
known). For other evidence of Dicaearchus’ penning of “hypotheses” in this sense, see texts
113–15 in Mirhady 2001; for further evidence of his literary interests, see texts 99–104.
⁶ For this sense of hupothesis, see Quintilian, Training in Oratory 3.5.7.
⁷ The same definition appears in an appendix to Heron’s Definitions (138, 8), attributed
to one Anatolius, who is usually identified with a third-century bishop of Laodicea. Dye and
Vitrac 2009, n. 111 pose the possibility that the words in this other text are simply lifted
from Sextus. But they are embedded in a whole series of mathematical definitions having no
other connection with this passage; more likely, then, it is Sextus who is reflecting the actual
language of geometers at the time.
⁸ It may seem surprising that Sextus uses a medical example to illustrate the sense of
“hypothesis” that (as we see just below) he takes to be relevant to geometry. But in this usage
it is certainly not confined to geometry, and in fact none of his arguments against
hypothesis ([7]–[17]) are confined to any particular subject matter. Some passages of
Plato (Meno 86d–87b, Republic 510b–511e, cf. Phaedo 100a–101e) do reflect a specifically
geometrical use of the term, where hypotheses are provisional and revisable assumptions.
But there is also an Aristotelian notion of hypotheses as the first principles of a science. (In
Aristotle himself the term “hypothesis” applies only to a certain subset of first principles—
Posterior Analytics 72a20–4; but the term was later extended to first principles in general—
see Barnes 1990, 92–5.) Sextus’ understanding of the term is like Aristotle’s and unlike
Plato’s in the crucial idea that a hypothesis is something one takes to be true. It does not,
however, necessarily confine itself to the first principles of an entire science, and again, none
of the arguments depend on any such restriction. On the other hand, that the first principles
of geometry, in some sense of that term, are Sextus’ target in this book, is clear from its first
sentence and from [18]; cf. n. 22. The entire opening section of the book, and its connection
with the Mode of Hypothesis in the Pyrrhonist Five Modes, are well discussed in Barnes
1990, chapter 4; see also Dye and Vitrac 2009, section 6 (189–99) and, on what the things
hypothesized might be, Berryman 1998, esp. 186–91.
⁹ That is, pores too small to be perceived by the senses and hence accessible only to the
intellect.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
particles of moisture and breath are collected from everywhere out of

masses observed by reason¹⁰ and forever restless; and third, that certain
incessant effluvia occur from us to the outside—sometimes more, some-
times less, reflecting the current circumstances.
[6] So, while hypothesis is conceived in this many ways, the present
project is not, for god’s sake, investigating the organization of dramas,
nor investigations on the part of the orators,¹¹ but the hypothesis men-
tioned at the end, which happens to be the starting point of a demon-
stration; for this is the hypothesis the geometers take up when they want
to demonstrate something geometrically.
b. Difficulties with hypothesis so understood (7–17)

[7] And for this reason it must be said right away that since those who
accept something by hypothesis and without demonstration are satisfied
with only a bare assertion in order to trust it,¹² one will sound them out
by means of an inference of this sort: [8] accepting something by
hypothesis is either strong and firm for putting trust in, or untrustworthy
and weak. But if it is strong, the opposite too, when accepted by hypoth-
esis, will become trustworthy and firm, so that we will be positing things
that conflict. But if, in the case of the person who accepts the opposite by
hypothesis without demonstration, the hypothesis is something untrust-
worthy, it will also become untrustworthy in the case of the former,¹³ so
that we will not posit either of them. So one should not accept anything
by hypothesis. [9] Then again, the matter hypothesized is either true and
such as we hypothesize it, or false. But if it is true, let’s not assume it,¹⁴
resorting to a thing that is full of suspicion—hypothesis—but let’s accept
it directly, since no one hypothesizes true things that are so—for
instance, the fact that it is now day and that I am having a discussion
and breathing; for the obviousness of these matters directly renders the
positing of them firm and the hypothesis not in doubt.¹⁵ So that if the
¹⁰ i.e. again, not observable by the senses.

¹¹ The repetition of the word for “investigate” (the verb zêtein and the noun zêtêsis) is in
the original; Sextus literally says that he is not going to investigate the orators’ style of
investigation.
¹² i.e. the hypothesis. ¹³ i.e. the person who posited the original hypothesis.
¹⁴ i.e. assume it by hypothesis; cf. the definition at the end of [4].
¹⁵ “Positing” here is thesis, the root word to which hupothesis has a prefix added.
Pellegrin et al. draw attention to the etymological connection in their translations of the
two (“position”, “supposition”), but at the expense of giving up their standard “hypothèse”
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
matter is true, let’s not assume it as if it was not true.¹⁶ [10] But if it is not
like this, but is false, no benefit will arise from hypothesis; for even if we
hypothesize it a million times, the conclusion of the investigation that
proceeds from non-existent starting points will follow upon unsound
foundations, as they say.¹⁷ [11] In any case, if someone maintains that
whatever is hypothesized, the things that follow from these turn out to be
trustworthy, he is surely doing away with all inquiry. For each of us will
immediately hypothesize that three is four, and given this, will conclude
that six is also eight; for if three is four, six will become eight; but three is
indeed four, as the hypothesis gives us; therefore six is eight. [12] Again,
we will assume that what is in motion is at rest, and with the matter
agreed, we will conclude that the flame stays still; for if what is in motion
is at rest, the flame stays still; but what is in motion is at rest, as the
hypothesis gives us; therefore the flame stays still. But in the same way as
the geometers will say that these hypotheses are absurd (for the founda-
tion has to be firm, in order for what follows to be agreed to), so too we
will not allow without a demonstration all the things accepted by them
in the manner of a hypothesis. [13] Besides, if what is hypothesized is
firm and trustworthy in so far as it is hypothesized, let them hypothesize
not the things from which they are going to demonstrate something, but
the very thing being demonstrated—that is, not the premises of the
for hypothesis. (Hupothesis is contrasted with thesis in the second sense mentioned in [4],
but there is no connection here with that usage.)
¹⁶ Sextus has a point that matters of plain experience are not the subjects of hypoth-
esis. But it does not follow that hypotheses are inherently doubtful, as he tries to suggest,
nor that a hypothesis that is “not in doubt” is inherently pointless. The distinction
between hypothesizing something and “accepting it directly” is also not easy to make
out, unless the latter simply means accepting as a matter of plain experience; but in that
case, the way the distinction is drawn again begs the question against the viability of
hypothesis.
¹⁷ Talk of the “foundations” of an argument, whether sound or not, is for us so ingrained
that it takes some effort to realize that it is a metaphor. But in ancient Greek it is a figure of
speech (hence “as they say”), albeit not a particularly adventurous one. Sextus uses it again
at 5.50, also at PH 1.173; see also Lucian, Hermotimus 73–5, and for an earlier occurrence
Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1100b7. For a related simile (similes often being the starting
points of metaphors), see 1.40, also the beginning of Against the Physicists (M 9.2) and PH
2.84. I accept Mau’s deletion of ouk before akolouthêsei, following Heintz. While the mss.
text seems to me not absolutely impossible (“will not follow from unsound foundations”), it
is considerably more awkward; in the next few sections “follow” clearly indicates validity
rather than soundness, and this would go against that usage.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
demonstration but its conclusion; for whatever the hypothesis is able to

do for them in regard to trust in the case of the things that reveal, it will
also be able to do this in the case of the matters revealed by the
demonstration.¹⁸ But if the conclusion of the demonstration is untrust-
worthy without demonstration, even if it is hypothesized many times,
what is accepted in order to establish this will also become untrustworthy
if it is not taught through demonstration. [14] But for god’s sake, they
say, if what follows from the hypotheses is found to be true, the things
hypothesized—that is, the things from which it followed—will definitely
be true. Which is again silly; for where do they get the idea that what
follows from certain things in a demonstration is definitely true? For they
will say this either having learned it from that very thing¹⁹ or from the
premises from which it followed. [15] But they cannot say that it is from
the thing itself. For it is unclear, and what is unclear is not trustworthy
from itself. At any rate they make an effort to demonstrate this, as if it
does not in itself convey trust. Then again, not from the premises; for
the whole debate is about these, and if they are not yet trusted, nor can
the thing being demonstrated from them be firm. [16] Also, even if the
finisher is true, the leader is not immediately also such.²⁰ For just as it is
natural for true to follow from true and false from false, so too it is
maintained that true is concluded from false—for instance,²¹ from “the
earth flies”, which is false, follows “the earth is”, which is true. [17] Hence
it is not the case that if the finisher is true, the leader is also definitely
true, but it is possible for the leader to be false while the finisher is true.
¹⁸ On the idea of the premises of demonstrations as “revealing” the information con-

tained in their conclusions, see the definitions of demonstration at PH 2.135, M 8.314. (This
is why some of us find “demonstration” preferable as a translation of apodeixis to “proof ”; a
proof may be logically unimpeachable but not reveal any new information.)
¹⁹ i.e. from the item that “follows from certain things in a demonstration” and sup-
posedly “is definitely true”—namely, the conclusion itself.
²⁰ “Finisher” and “leader” are usually translated “consequent” and “antecedent” respect-
ively. I prefer these more literal translations, which make clear that these words had a life in
the ordinary Greek language as well as being technical terms in logic. For the Stoic practice
of converting arguments into conditionals (with the conjunction of the premises as
antecedent and the conclusion as consequent) in order to judge their validity, see
PH 2.137, M 8.415–17, and Bobzien 2003, section 5.
²¹ The mss. here include the word en, “in”, which Mau and other editors delete.
Alternatively, Blomqvist 1968, 81 retains en and suggests a lacuna in which the conditional
is spelled out: “for instance, in <‘if the earth flies, the earth is’>, from ‘the earth flies’, which
is false”, etc.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
2. Transition to focus on the principles

of geometry; the objects to be discussed,
and in what order (17–21)
Well then, that the mathematicians go wrong when they accept by
hypothesis the principles²² of demonstration and of every theory, with
the pronouncement “let it be a given”,²³ has been well enough established
by means of these points. [18] But moving on, let us next teach that the
principles of their expertise turn out to be false and unpersuasive. While
in fact many things can be said to this effect, as we said at the start of our
survey, issues of impasse will be brought to bear on those things which,
when they are done away with, will lead to the rest being done away with
too.²⁴ Since, then, when the principles are brought into discredit, their
particular demonstrations cannot move forward either, let us say the
things that are applicable to the principles.
[19] So, to begin with they teach us, as something primary and most
elementary, that body is what has the three dimensions—length, breadth,
and depth—of which the first dimension is up and down in terms of
length, the second is from right to left in terms of breadth, and the third
²² Cf. n. 1. I here translate archai by “principles”, despite having earlier rendered it

“starting points” in the context of the method of hypothesis, because Sextus is here
beginning a transition to a new topic—one where “principle” does seem to be the right
understanding of archê—while insinuating, through the use of the same word archê, that
there is continuity of subject matter. The previous paragraph was devoted to an attack on
the method of hypothesis in general. Here there was no presumption that the things
hypothesized are principles of the entire subject (though of course, they could be, and
this seemed to be previewed in [1] above—“the starting points of geometry”—see also n. 8);
the problem lies simply in the accepting of something, no matter what, by hypothesis, as the
way to get a demonstration started. Hence my preference for “starting point” to render
archê in that context. What are to occupy almost the rest of the book, however, are the basic
entities with which geometry deals—points, lines, etc.—and for these the translation “prin-
ciples” seems more appropriate. (One might naturally think of the principles of geometry as
its axioms and basic postulates, but Sextus’ interest seems to be in geometrical objects rather
than propositions. If so, the shift of subject matter is all the more apparent; propositions about
lines, points, etc. can serve as hypotheses in demonstrations, but lines and points themselves
cannot.) On the matters treated in this note, I have learned much from Bullock 2015,
chapter 3, though I am not sure Bullock would endorse everything I have said.
²³ One of the standard terms used by geometers and astronomers to begin a demon-
stration (though not by Euclid; cf. n. 26); see, e.g., Ptolemy, Syntaxis mathematica (also
known by the Arabic title Almagest) 1, 1.90, 93, 241—these and other citations in Bullock
2015, nn. 337, 338.
²⁴ The back-reference is to 1.40.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
is from in front to behind in terms of depth. So that of these three²⁵ there

get to be six directions, two for each: of the first up and down, of the
second left and right, and of the third in front and behind.
For they say that a line comes into being from the flowing of a point, a
surface from that of a line, and a solid body from that of a surface. [20]
This is why, as an outline, they say that a point is a partless and dimen-
sionless sign or the limit of a line, a line is a breadthless length or the limit
of a surface, and a surface is the limit of a body or a depthless breadth.²⁶
[21] Taking these up in order, then, let us speak first about point, then
about line, and after this about surface and body; for if these are done
away with, geometry will not even get to be an expertise, not having the
things on whose basis its construction is thought to move forward.
3. The point, and its inconceivability (22–8)

[22] So, the point, which they say is a dimensionless sign, is conceived
either as a body or as incorporeal. And it cannot be a body according to
them; for things that have no dimension are not bodies. It remains, then,
for it to be incorporeal, which is again unpersuasive. For what is incor-
poreal, as intangible in its constitution, is conceived as not capable of
generating anything, but the point is conceived as capable of generating
the line; so the point is not a dimensionless sign. [23] Then again, if
“apparent things are a sight of those that are unclear”,²⁷ then since it is
not possible to grasp among apparent things a limit of anything or a sign
²⁵ Mau’s addition <on>tôn, yielding the sense “since there are these three”, seems to me
unnecessary.
²⁶ These definitions largely track those at the opening of Euclid’s Elements I (Definitions
1–3, 5–6; see also book XI, Definition 2), although there is no mention there of the “flowing”
of one of these items to produce the next one, as described in the previous sentence. This is,
however, mentioned in the corresponding place in the scholia to Euclid’s Elements (book 1,
scholion 1, l. 193); Theon of Smyrna (listed in TLG as “Theon Phil.”) also uses this language
(p. 83, l. 22) in a context citing Eratosthenes (p. 82, l. 22) (compare Sextus in [28]). Despite
the broad extent of overlap (and see other cases at [94], [100], [107]), Dye and Vitrac 2009,
section 4 (174–80) plausibly argue that Sextus’ vocabulary is sufficiently different from that
of Euclid that he cannot actually be consulting Euclid; rather, he relies on philosophical
writings on mathematics (Theon would fall in this category), as well as already existing anti-
geometrical writings in the Pyrrhonist and Epicurean traditions. Section 5 of this article
(180–9) also contains a wealth of useful observations about individual arguments in the
main portion of this book ([18]–[93]).
²⁷ Sextus attributes these words to the Presocratic thinker Anaxagoras at M 7.140; he also
uses them without attribution at M 7.374 and at [58].
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
that is dimensionless,²⁸ it is clear that nothing of this sort will be grasped

among intelligible things either. But it is not possible to grasp anything
dimensionless among perceptible things, as I will establish—so that it is
not possible among intelligible things either. [24] So, everything among
perceptible things that presents itself as a limit of something and a sign is
apprehended as the edge of something along with being a part of that of
which it is the edge; at any rate, if we remove it, that from which the
removal occurred will become smaller. But that which is a part of
something is right away set up as capable of completing it, and what is
capable of completing something will definitely increase that thing’s
length, and what is capable of increasing a magnitude necessarily
has magnitude. [25] Therefore everything among perceptible things
that is an edge of something and a sign, since it has magnitude, is not
dimensionless. Hence if we conceive the intelligible by transition from
the perceptible, we will conceive it as being a sign and the limit of a line
along with being capable of completing it, so that it too will definitely
have a dimension, capable as it is of producing dimension.²⁹ [26] Besides,
they say that the straight line projected from the center, when rotated,
describes a circle on the plane with its own limit.³⁰ Since, then, the edge
of this straight line is a sign, and this when rotated measures out the
circumference, this will be capable of completing the circumference; but
the circumference has dimension; so the sign that is capable of complet-
ing it will also have some dimension. [27] And further, it is claimed that
the sphere touches the plane at one sign, and when rolled along makes a
line; clearly the signs, as they fall down one after the other,³¹ compose the
whole line. So if the sign is capable of completing the magnitude of the
²⁸ With Heintz I read peras kai sêmeion for the mss. sêmeion kai peras. It is clear from the
rest of this passage that it is the sign (that is, the point; cf. [20]), not the limit, that is to be
referred to as “dimensionless”, and the limit, not the sign, that is said to be “of ” something.
For the same reason I follow Heintz in switching akron and sêmeion (“edge” and “sign”) in
the first sentence of [25].
²⁹ I translate diastasis by “dimension” throughout this passage. Here and at the end of
[26] “extent” might be a more natural English rendering (it is so rendered in [64]). But the
English “dimension” can also mean “extent”, and Sextus’ continuous use of diastasis is
clearly deliberate; it seems preferable to follow him by sticking to the same word.
³⁰ i.e. when one end is held stationary and the line is rotated around this fixed point.
³¹ This is perhaps something of an overtranslation of epikatapiptontôn. But it is a rare
word, and some measure of guesswork is probably required. Katapiptô means “fall down”,
and I take the epi- prefix to indicate the temporal succession of the many points that fall as
the sphere rolls over the surface.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
line, it too will have magnitude. But it has been agreed that it does
manage to be capable of completing the magnitude of the line; it too,
therefore, will have magnitude and will not get to be dimensionless.
[28] But in responding to attacks of this kind, Eratosthenes tends to
say that the sign neither occupies any place nor measures out the
distance of the line, but makes the line having flowed. Which is incon-
ceivable. For flowing is conceived as extending from one place to another
place, like water. And if we imagine the sign as something like this, it will
follow that it does not turn out like a partless thing—on the contrary, it
has lots of parts.
4. The line (29–59)

a. The impossibility of generating a line out of points (29–36)
[29] Well, enough about the point. Next let us look too at what ought to
be said about the line; for it was placed in order after the point. So,³² even
if it is allowed that a point exists, there will not be the line. For if this is
the flowing of a sign and a breadthless length, either it is one sign
extended into a length or many dimensionless signs lying in a row;³³
[30] but it is neither one extended into a length, as we will establish, nor
many signs lying in a row, as we will also bring up; therefore there is no
line. For if the sign³⁴ is one, either the sign itself ³⁵ occupies one place, or
it changes from one place to another, or it is extended from one place
into another. [31] But if it is contained in one place, it will not be a line
but a point; for the line was conceived as having flowed. But if it goes
³² The manuscripts are divided here, some including hoti, “that”, after toinun, “so”. In
order to create a well-formed sentence including hoti, Mau adds <lekteon>, “it must be
said”, at the start. With Bekker and Bury, I prefer to follow the manuscripts in which hoti
does not occur.
³³ Or perhaps “or many signs lying in a row without intervals”; adiastatos can mean
either “without dimension/extension” or “without intervals”. I prefer the former because
this is how the word has been used previously in this context, and also how it is used in [35]
below, when this second possibility is argued against. But the argument does also include
objections that involve opening up intervals between the points, and so the latter meaning is
not irrelevant in context.
³⁴ I follow Blomqvist 1968, 82 in retaining to before sêmeion; Mau, following Heintz,
deletes it.
³⁵ I follow Blomqvist 1968, 82 in declining to alter auto to sêmeion to touto to sêmeion
(as Mau does following Heintz).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
from one place to another, it will go either, as I said before, by leaving one
and taking over another, or by holding on to one place and extending to
another. But if it is by leaving one and taking over another, again it will
not be a line but a point. [32] For just as, when it occupied the first place,
it was conceived as a point and not as a line, by the same reasoning it will
also be conceived as a point when it takes over the second place. But if it
holds on to one place and is extended to another, it is extended over a
place that is either with parts or without parts. [33] And if it is extended
over a place without parts, again it will not be a line but a point or sign;
for what occupies a partless place is partless, and what is partless has the
status of a point, not a line. But if it is with parts, then since what is with
parts has parts,³⁶ at least if it is extended over the whole place, and what
has parts with which it is extended over the parts of the place is a body,
the sign will definitely be a body with parts—which is absurd. [34] So
that the line is not one sign. Then again, nor is it the many signs lying in a
row.³⁷ For these signs are conceived either as touching one another or
not touching. And if they are not touching one another, they are inter-
rupted and kept apart by certain places, and being kept apart by places
they will no longer make a single line. [35] But if they are conceived as
touching one another, either they touch as wholes on wholes or they
touch parts with parts. And if they touch parts with parts, they will not
still be dimensionless and partless; for the sign that is conceived (for the
sake of argument) as in the middle of two signs will touch the sign in
front with one part and the one behind with another, and the plane with
a part that is not the same, and the other place with a different part,³⁸
³⁶ Mau follows Heintz in adding the supplement epei to <meristôi antiparekteinomenon

topôi opheilon kai auto einai> meriston, mere echei, giving the sense “since what is
<extended over a place with parts ought itself to be> with parts, it has parts”. This is
modeled on a parallel passage in Against the Physicists (M 9.385), and is driven by the worry
that “what is with parts has parts” is too tautologous to be worth saying. But there is no
reason to expect an exact correspondence of reasoning between the two works, and the
present passage in any case differs from Against the Physicists in having the somewhat
pointless observation “at least if it is extended over the whole place”. So I translate the mss.
text as it stands. In general I think we should be suspicious of the project of cleaning up one
work of Sextus on the basis of another; much of the time it simply begs the question.
Interestingly, both Pellegrin et al. and Jürß also reject the supplement.
³⁷ I follow Blomqvist 1968, 82 in not deleting ta, “the”, before “many signs”, as Mau does
following Heintz (again on the basis of the parallel in Against the Physicists; see n. 36).
³⁸ The plane is the plane surface that the line is imagined as stretching over, and hence in
some sense “on top of”. The reference of “the other place” is not so clear. In the parallel
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
so that it turns out to be no longer truly partless but many-parted. [36]

But if the signs touch as wholes on wholes, it is clear that signs will be
contained in signs and will occupy the same place; and in this way they
will not be lying in a row, so that a line may come into being, but if they
occupy the same place, they will constitute a single point. If, then, in
order for a line to be conceived, the sign from which it takes its concept
has to be conceived first, and it has been shown to be neither a sign nor
composed of signs, the line will be nothing.
b. The inconceivability of the line as a

“breadthless length” (37–50)
[37] Then again, stepping back from the concept of the sign, it is possible
for us to do away with the line directly and to teach that it is not
conceived. For a line is, as we can hear from the geometers themselves,
a breadthless length; but when we have inquired in detail we will find that
neither in intelligible nor in perceptible things is there anything that can
be grasped as a breadthless length. [38] In perceptible things, since
whatever perceptible length we grasp, we will absolutely in every way
grasp it together with some amount of breadth; [39] and in intelligible
things in so far as, while we can conceive one length as narrower than
another, when we keep equal the same length and in our conception split
its breadth and continue doing the same thing, up to a point we will
conceive the breadth getting less and less, but when we have reached the
point of depriving the length of its breadth once and for all, we will no
longer be imagining even length—the conception of length too will be
done away with. [40] And in general everything that is conceived is
conceived in two principal ways: either by way of a plain experience or by
way of transition from things that are plain, and the latter is of three
kinds—by resemblance, by combination, or by analogy.³⁹ By way of a
passage of Against the Physicists (M 9.387) the fourth part is identified as touching “the
place that lies above”, by contrast with the plane that is imagined as lying below. Here again
(cf. n. 36) the treatment in this work is somewhat less polished.
³⁹ This account of concept formation also occurs (with the same examples) at M
8.58–60, 9.45 (a truncated version), 9.393–5, and 11.250–1 (though here it is presented as
a picture of how knowledge is acquired—see Bett 1997, 252–4). A close parallel can be
found in Stoic material; see Diogenes Laertius 7.52–3 (which again includes all the same
examples) and Cicero, De finibus 3.33. However, the Epicureans seem to have held a related
view—see Diogenes Laertius 10.32—and it is not clear which came first.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
plain experience white and black and sweet and bitter are conceived,
whereas by way of transition from things that are plain, by resemblance
Socrates himself, for instance, is conceived from the image of Socrates,
[41] and by combination the centaur, for instance, from a horse and a
human being; for by mixing the limbs of a horse and a human being we
imagined the centaur, which is neither human nor horse but a combin-
ation of the two. And by analogy something is conceived again in two
ways, [42] sometimes by increase and sometimes by diminution—for
example, from normal human beings, “such as mortals are now”,⁴⁰ by
increase we conceived the Cyclops, who is not like
A bread-eating man, but a wooded peak,⁴¹
and by diminution the pygmy, whom we have not encountered in

experience. [43] Well, since this is how many methods of conceiving
there are, if any breadthless length is conceived, it ought necessarily to be
conceived either by way of a plain experience or by way of transition
from things that are plain. But it cannot be conceived by way of a plain
experience; for we have not come across any length without breadth. [44]
It is left, then, to say that it is conceived by way of transition from things
that are plain—which is also something most impossible. For if it was
conceived like this, it was definitely conceived either by way of resem-
blance or by way of combination or by way of analogy; but it is not of a
nature to be brought into a conception in any of these ways, as we will
establish; therefore no breadthless length is conceived. [45] For a start,
conceiving of some breadthless length by way of resemblance is some-
thing impossible. For among apparent things we have no length apart
from breadth, so as to conceive some breadthless length that is like this.
[46] For what is like something is definitely like a thing that is
recognized—if something is not recognized, it is not possible to find a
thing like it either. Since, then, we do not have a length without breadth
⁴⁰ These words fit the epic meter (dactylic hexameter). The last three words (nun brotoi
eisin, “mortals are now”) appear twice in Homer (Iliad 1.272, Odyssey 8.222), both in
contexts where there is a comparison with greater (including physically greater) human
beings of the past. Sextus’ exact sequence of words only appears in a few other late
authors—as here, in the guise of a verse quotation but not identified.
⁴¹ Odyssey 9.191. This line is also quoted by Sextus, always in contexts closely related to
this one, in Against the Logicians (M 8.59), Against the Physicists (M 9.45, 395), and Against
the Ethicists (M 11.251).
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
that we plainly encounter, nor will we be able to conceive anything like it.
[47] Then again, nor is it possible for the conception of it to go forward
for the geometers by way of combination; for let them inform us which of
the things recognized plainly by experience we will combine with which,
to conceive breadthless length, as we did earlier in the case of human
being and horse when we imagined the centaur. [48] It is left, then, for
them to resort to the method of conceiving that involves analogical
increase or diminution—which is again observed to be something
intractable. [49] For things conceived in terms of analogy have some-
thing in common with the things from which they are conceived; for
example, from the normal size of human beings we conceived the
Cyclops by increase and the pygmy by diminution, so that there is
something in common between the things conceived in terms of analogy
and those from which they are conceived. But we have nothing in
common between the length that is conceived as breadthless and the
one conceived with breadth, in order to conceive breadthless length by
starting from the latter. [50] And not having anything in common
between them, we will not have the power to create the concept of
breadthless length by way of analogy. Hence if each of the things
conceived is conceived in terms of the methods laid out, and it has
been taught that breadthless length is not conceived by way of any of
them, breadthless length is not conceived.
c. The geometers’ appeal to “intensification”, and its
failure (51–6)
[51] However, in the face of such plain refutations, the geometers
do their best to man up, and they try to say that breadthless length is
conceived by way of intensification. [52] At any rate, after taking any
length at all, together with a certain amount of breadth, they say that we
diminish this breadth by way of intensification, continually intensifying
its narrowness more and more, and in this way we then say that what is
conceived by way of intensification is a breadthless length; for if the
breadth is gradually reduced, being narrowed by way of intensification,
some time it will arrive at a breadthless length—this is where the concept
will end up. [53] But we have shown, someone will say, that complete
deprivation of breadth is doing away with length too. In addition, what is
conceived by way of the intensification of something is not other than the
thing conceived previously, but is that very thing intensified. [54] Since,
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
then, we want to conceive something from what has a certain amount

of breadth by way of an intensification of its narrowness, we will not
conceive length that is absolutely in every way breadthless (for it is
different in kind), but we will grasp a certain narrow breadth, so that the
endpoint in our conceiving occurs at the very least breadth—yet still,
however, a breadth—and after this there occurs the application of thought
to something different in kind, which is neither length nor breadth. [55]
And if it is possible for people who have conceived a certain length with a
certain amount of breadth to grasp a breadthless length by deprivation of
its breadth, it will for that matter be possible in a similar way for those who
have conceived flesh together with its specific property of vulnerability to
conceive (by deprivation of its specific property of vulnerability) invul-
nerable flesh that is immune to being affected; [56] and it will be possible
for those who have conceived body together with its specific property of
resistance to grasp a non-resistant body by deprivation of its resistance.
Which is completely impossible and goes against the common conception
of humanity; for what is conceived by us as invulnerable is no longer flesh,
since it was together with its specific property of vulnerability that flesh
was conceived as flesh, and the non-resistant body is no longer conceived
as body; for it was together with its specific property of resistance that
body was conceived, in so far as it is body. Hence length conceived apart
from breadth would not be length; for it is together with having a certain
amount of breadth that length is conceived as length.
d. Aristotle’s rescue attempt, and its failure (57–9)

[57] But even though the inconceivability of the matter has been estab-
lished in various ways, and the geometers are in a position of no small
upheaval, Aristotle says that the breadthless length they speak of is not
inconceivable, but can be brought to a conception for us without any
difficulty. He rests his argument on a rather plain and clear example. [58]
The length of the wall, he says, we grasp without also focusing on its
breadth⁴²—in view of which it will also be possible to conceive the length
without any breadth discussed by the geometers, seeing that “apparent
things are a sight of those that are unclear”.⁴³ He is wrong, or perhaps he
is blinding us with sophistry. For when we conceive the length of the wall
⁴² i.e. its thickness. ⁴³ Cf. [23] and accompanying note.

BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
without breadth, we do not conceive it without any breadth, but without

the actual breadth that applies to the wall. [59] Hence it is also possible to
string together the length of the wall with a breadth of any amount at all
and create a notion of it; so that the length is grasped for now not without
any breadth, as the mathematicians maintain, but without this particular
breadth. But Aristotle’s project was to establish not that the length
discussed among the geometers was lacking in a certain breadth, but
that it was deprived of all breadth—which he did not demonstrate.⁴⁴
5. Problems in conceiving of a surface,

based in large part on the previous
conception of the line (60–4)
[60] That’s enough about these things; but since the geometers also
say that the line, which is breadthless length, is the limit of a surface,
come on—let’s create impasses more generally about lines and surfaces
together; for in this way their account of body will become easy to
discredit. [61] For if the line, consisting of breadthless length, is the
limit of a surface, it is clear that when a surface is placed beside a
surface,⁴⁵ either there come to be two parallel lines or they both become
one. And if the two lines become one, then since the line is the limit of a
surface, and the surface the limit of a body, when the two lines become
one the two surfaces will at the same time become one surface, and when
the two surfaces have become one surface, the two bodies will necessarily
also be one body, and if the two bodies have become one, the placing
beside will not be a placing beside but a unification. Which is impossible.
[62] For in the case of some bodies placing beside can become unifica-
tion, as in the case of water and things like this, but in other cases by no
⁴⁴ Ross treats this as a fragment of a lost work of Aristotle (Ross 1952, 121). The use
of “he says” (both here and in the briefer parallel passage of Against the Physicists
(M 9.412–13)) does at least suggest that some text of Aristotle (or perhaps, a summary of
his views) is being cited here. However, although the example of the wall does not occur in
Aristotle’s extant works, it is an easy application of Aristotle’s basic conception of math-
ematical objects as being particular aspects of the ordinary objects around us, focused on by
abstracting away those other aspects of the objects that are irrelevant to them (rather than as
constituting a separate, self-sufficient class of objects, as Plato seems to regard them); on
this picture, see Smith 2010, chapter 2, “Abstraction and Mathematics”.
⁴⁵ i.e. right next to it, with no space between them.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
means; stone placed beside stone, or iron beside iron, or adamant beside
adamant, are not unified in terms of line.⁴⁶ So that the two lines cannot
become one line. And besides, if the unification of the two lines that have
become one is also a growing together of the bodies, their separation,
when they are torn apart, must occur not at the same limits they had, but
at different parts at different times, so that perishing is the outcome. But
this is not observed to happen; the limits of the bodies both before being
placed beside one another and after the separation are just as they
appeared to be while placed beside one another. So the two lines do
not become one. [63] And anyway, if the two lines become one, the
bodies placed beside one another will have to be smaller by one edge; for
the two have become one, which ought to have one limit and edge. But
bodies placed beside one another do not become smaller by one edge, so
that the two lines cannot become one line. [64] But if there come to be
two parallel lines in virtue of the placing of two bodies beside one
another, the product of the two lines will be greater than the one line.
But if the product of the two lines is greater than the one line, each of the
two will have breadth, which with the other one makes the extent greater,
and thus the line is not a breadthless length. So it’s one of these two:
either we have to do away with plain experience, or if this stays, we have
to reject the conception of the geometers in terms of which they think
that the line is a breadthless length.
6. Further difficulties stemming from the

geometers’ own theories (65–91)
a. Incompatibility of their claim that “the straight line describes
circles with all its parts when rotated” and their conception
of the line as a “breadthless length” (65–73)
[65] Well, these are the main things we have to say against the principles
of geometry; but moving on, let us teach that even in terms of their own
hypotheses it is not possible for their investigation to go forward. So, it is
a doctrine of theirs, as we said above,⁴⁷ that the straight line describes
⁴⁶ i.e. by a process of unification of the two lines marking the limit of the surface of each,
as imagined in [61].
⁴⁷ Cf. [26].
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
circles with all its parts when it is rotated; but with this theory, which is
quite fundamental, the line’s being a breadthless length is in conflict. [66]
Let’s put the question in this way: if according to them every part of the
line has a sign, and the sign when rotated describes a circle, then when
the straight line as it is rotated describes circles with all of its parts, and so
measures the distance of the plane from the center to the circumference
at the outer extreme, it will be necessary, according to them, for the
circles being described to be either continuous with one another or
standing apart from one another. [67] But if they stand apart from one
another, it will follow that there is a part of the plane that does not have a
circle described on it, and a part of the straight line that is carried over
this distance but does not describe a circle—which is absurd. For either
the straight line does not have a sign at this part, or it has one but does
not describe a circle, each of which goes against geometrical reasoning;
for they say both that every part of the line has a sign and that every
sign when rotated describes a circle. [68] But if they think that the
circles are continuous with one another, either they are so continuous
as to occupy the same place, or so as to be arranged next to each other
with no sign falling between; for every sign that (according to the
conception) falls in-between ought itself also to describe a circle. And
if they all occupy the same place, there will come to be one circle, and
for this reason the larger circle which stands at the outer extreme,
inclusive of all of them, will become equal to the smallest circle which
stands right by the center; [69] for if the circle at the outer extreme,
right up against the circumference, occupies a larger distance and the
circle at the inner extreme right by the center occupies a small distance,
and all the circles occupy the same place, the one that occupies the
larger distance will become equal to the one that occupies the smallest
distance—which is counter-intuitive. So the circles are not so continu-
ous as to occupy the same place. [70] But if they are parallel so that no
partless sign falls in-between, they will fill the breadth from the center
as far as the circumference. But if they fill it, they occupy some breadth.
But these⁴⁸ were lines. Lines, therefore, have some breadth and are not
constituted as breadthless.
⁴⁸ i.e. the circles. Sextus finally comes back to the topic of the line as a “breadthless
length”, which was supposedly the point of introducing this elaborate construction
(cf. [65]–[66]). Somewhat unexpectedly, however, it is not the line originally mentioned—the
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
[71] Proceeding from the same impetus, we will put together an attack
similar in method to the one just delivered. Since they say that the
straight line describing a circle describes the circle by itself, we will
press them with questions and say: if the straight line describing a circle
is of a nature to describe the circle by itself, the line is not a breadthless
length; but the straight line describing a circle does describe the circle by
itself, as they say; therefore the line is not a breadthless length—this is
what follows for them, as we will teach. [72] For when the straight line
drawn from the center is rotated and describes a circle by itself, either
the straight line is carried over all the parts of the breadth inside the
circumference, or not over all but over some. And if it is carried over
some, it does not describe a circle, being carried over some parts but not
others. But if it is carried over all, it will measure the whole breadth of the
circumference, [73] and if it measures a breadth it will have breadth; for
what is such as to measure the breadth ought to have breadth with which
it measures. Therefore the straight line as it revolves measures the whole
breadth, and the line is not a breadthless length.⁴⁹
b. Similar arguments using other geometrical figures (74–6)

[74] The same thing will also be shown more clearly when the geometers
say that the horizontal side of the square when drawn downwards
measures the plane enclosed by parallel lines. For if the horizontal side
of the square is a breadthless length, when it is drawn down⁵⁰ it will not
by itself measure the plane of the square enclosed by parallel lines;
for what is such as to measure breadth ought to have breadth. But if
it measures, it definitely has breadth. So that again, either this theory of
the geometers is false, or what is conceived as a breadthless length has
no existence.
[75] And they say that the cylinder touches the plane at a straight line,
and when rolled along measures the plane by the placing in turn of one
line from the center to the circumference—that is shown to have breadth, but the circular lines
produced by the rotation of the points on this original line.
⁴⁹ Several scholars (Heintz, Bury, Blomqvist 1971, 19) are eager to alter the text at this
point to deliver a more logically elegant conclusion. I follow Mau in leaving the text
unchanged; Sextus does not always satisfy us in this respect.
⁵⁰ I follow Heintz in reading katagomenê with ou katametrêsei; Mau’s punctuation is
misleading.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
straight line after another. But if indeed the cylinder touches the plane at
a straight line, and when rolled measures the plane by the placing in turn
of one straight line after another, the plane too definitely consists of
straight lines, and the surface of the cylinder is also made up of
straight lines. [76] Hence, since the plane has breadth and the same
applies to the surface of the cylinder—it’s not breadthless—and what is
such as to create breadth ought itself to have breadth as well, it is clear
that the straight lines, being such as to fill the breadth, also necessarily
have breadth, so that breadthless length is nothing, and for this reason
so is line.
c. Problems in making sense of surfaces and bodies if the line
is a “breadthless length” (77–82)
[77] But even if we were to allow that the line is a breadthless length, the
things that follow this would be even more intractable than those above.
For just as the sign produces a line when it has flowed, so too the line
when it has flowed produces a surface according to them, which is, they
say, the limit of a body and has two dimensions, length and breadth. [78]
If, then, the surface is the limit of a body, the body is definitely limited;
and if so, when two bodies are placed beside one another, either the
limits touch the limits, or the things limited touch the things limited, or
both the things limited touch the things limited and the limits touch the
limits, as in the case of the wine jar, if we conceive the outside pottery as
the limit and the wine in it as the thing limited. [79] If, then, two wine
jars are placed beside one another, either the pottery will touch the
pottery, or the wine the wine, or both the pottery will touch the pottery
and the wine the wine. And if the limits touch the limits, the things
limited, that is, the bodies, will not touch one another, which is counter-
intuitive. But if the things limited, that is, the bodies, touch one another,
and the limits do not touch one another, the bodies will be outside their
own limits. [80] But if both limits touch limits and things limited touch
things limited, we will be piling up the impasses; for in so far as the limits
touch one another, the things limited will not touch one another, and in
so far as the things limited touch one another, the bodies will be outside
their own limits, since the surface is a limit and the body a thing limited.
[81] And limits are either bodies or incorporeal. And if they are bodies,
the geometers’ claim that the surface is depthless will be false. For if it is a
body, it will necessarily also have depth; for every body ought to have
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
depth. Then it will not even touch anything,⁵¹ but every one will be of
infinite magnitude. For if it is a body, then since every body has a limit,
that limit too, being a body, will have a limit, and that one similarly, and
so on to infinity. [82] But if the limit is incorporeal, then since the
incorporeal cannot touch anything or be touched, the limits will not
touch one another, and if these are not touching, the things limited will
not touch one another either. Even if we allow, then, that the line is a
breadthless length, the argument about surface is intractable. And along
with these being intractable, even if we don’t say so, solid body will also
be done away with, being constituted as a compound of these.
d. Problems in conceiving of body as “what has the

three dimensions” (83–91)
[83] Let’s also look at it this way: if body is, as the geometers say, what
has the three dimensions, length, breadth, and depth, body is either
separate from these, so that body is one thing, and body’s length,
breadth, and depth are another, or body is the collection of these. But
it is not persuasive that body is separated from these; for where there
is neither length nor breadth nor depth, it is not possible to conceive
body. [84] But if the collection of these is conceived as body, and
there is nothing else besides these, then necessarily, since each of
these is incorporeal, the combination of the incorporeals all together
will also become incorporeal. For just as the putting together of points
and the combination of lines, which stand as by nature incorporeal,
do not make a solid body with resistance, so too the coming together
of breadth and length and also depth, being incorporeal, would not
make a solid body with resistance. But if body is neither apart from
these nor is these, body, as far as the geometers are concerned,
becomes inconceivable.
[85] In addition to this, if the combination of length and breadth and
depth makes body, either each of these, before their combination, is
conceived as including in itself corporeality and the corporeal formulae,
as it were, or body is formed as an extra after their coming together. And
⁵¹ Because, as Sextus goes on to explain, as a body it will itself have a limit, and that limit
(being a body) will have another limit, and so on; the idea seems to be that the original limit
will be enclosed within an infinity of additional limits and so cut off from touching
anything.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
if each of them is conceived as inclusive of corporeality before their

combination, each of them will be a body—it won’t be after their com-
bination that the latter comes into being. [86] And then, since body is
not only length, nor breadth on its own, not depth individually, but the
three together—length and breadth and depth—and each of these
includes corporeality, each of them will have the three, and length will
not only be length but also breadth and depth, and breadth will not
only be breadth but also length and depth, and depth similarly will also
be breadth and length—which is completely unreasonable. [87] But if it
is after these have come together that the formation of body is conceived,
then either the original nature of length as length, of breadth as breadth,
and of depth as depth, remains after they come together, or it is changed
into corporeality. [88] And if their original nature remains, then since
they are incorporeal, they will not make a body, which is different, but
even after their combination they will remain incorporeal, being incor-
poreal in their nature. [89] But if they change into corporeality after
coming together, then since what admits change is thereby body, each of
these will be body even before their combination into the same thing, and
in this way the incorporeal too will become body. And just as the body in
changing has one quality instead of another, but remains a body
nonetheless—for example, the white one in order to become black, and
the sweet one to become bitter, and wine to become vinegar, and lead to
become paint,⁵² and bronze to become rust, take on one quality instead
of another but do not depart from being bodies, [90] but the black one,
when from white it has become black, and the bitter one, when from
sweet it has become bitter, and the vinegar, when from wine it has
become vinegar, remain bodies—so too these,⁵³ if they change into
bodies, will be bodies instead of other bodies, but bodies nonetheless;
for they will not depart their own nature.⁵⁴ If, then, it is not possible
⁵² Psimmuthion, white lead used as a pigment.

⁵³ i.e. the three dimensions, which were the subject in [88] and [89].
⁵⁴ A number of scholars (Heintz, Bury, Pellegrin et al.) are uncomfortable with the text at
this point, wanting to read asômata, “incorporeal”, rather than sômata, “bodies”, in one or
more places in this sentence. It is true that in [88] the three dimensions were said to be
incorporeal in nature. But Sextus is here exploring the other alternative introduced in [89]:
that the three dimensions, in being subject to change, are corporeal from the start. The
parallel passage of Against the Physicists (M 9.374) reads “so too these, if they change into
body, will take on one quality instead of another; but if this happens to them, they are
bodies”. The thought is more elegantly expressed here than in the text above, but it is
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
to conceive body either before their coming together or after their

coming together, and it is not possible to conceive it in any other way
besides these, body is nothing. [91] In addition to this, if neither length
nor breadth nor depth is anything, nor will there be the body that is
conceived in terms of participation in these; but in fact there is not
either length or breadth or depth, as we explained earlier;⁵⁵ nor, there-
fore, will there be the body that is conceived in terms of participation
in these.
7. Transition from principles to the things

that supposedly follow from them (92–3)
[92] In this way, then, it turns out that the principles of geometry are
non-existent;⁵⁶ but if these are done away with, no other geometrical
theory can be assembled either. For whatever this may be like, it ought
to be demonstrated by means of lines; but we have shown that the
generic line is nothing, from which it follows that none of the specific
ones exist either, whether one supposes this to be straight or bent or in
any other condition. [93] Hence it would perhaps be good enough to
end the counter-argument against the geometers here; nonetheless, we
will continue the contest and try to teach that even if we leave alone
the principles of geometry, the geometers cannot assemble or demon-
strate a theory.
recognizably the same thought in both cases. I therefore follow Mau in leaving the
manuscripts unchanged.
⁵⁵ The reference is not entirely clear. Fabricius and Bury point to [86], but this does not
really purport to show the non-existence of length, breadth, and depth. In the parallel
passage of Against the Physicists (M 9.375), there is a forward reference instead of a
backward reference, and a connection is immediately made (376) between the existence
of length and existence of lines. There follow a large number of arguments against the line
as conceived by geometers, many of which are paralleled by arguments earlier in this book.
It may well be, then, that Sextus means to refer back to these. However, since it is never
made explicit in this book that if the line is in doubt, so is length, the back-reference is left
somewhat unanchored.
⁵⁶ Others translate this word (anupostatous) “unfounded” (or equivalents in other
languages). But one would not expect principles to have some further foundation. Sextus
might create trouble on this basis using arguments from the Five Modes (PH 1.164–77), but
this way of stating the point would be too obviously question-begging. Besides, the
immediate context favors the translation “non-existent”.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
8. Interim project of addressing “lower-level

principles” (94–107)
a. Problems with the straight line (94–9)
[94] Yet before this, there is also no small number of things that can be
said against their lower-level principles, as when they say that a straight
line is the one that lies evenly with its own parts.⁵⁷ For, to pass over the
rest, the following is manifest: that if there is not the generic line, nor can
the straight line come into being; for just as, if there is not animal, nor is
there human being, and if there is not human being, nor is there Socrates,
so if the generic line is done away with, the specific⁵⁸ straight line is also
done away with at the same time. [95] And then, the equal is spoken of in
two ways: in one way it is equal in magnitude and neither exceeding that
to which it is said to be equal nor being exceeded by it—as when we say
that a plank a cubit long is equal to what is a cubit long—while in another
it is what has its parts situated evenly—that is, what is level; in this way,
at any rate, we call the floor “equal” instead of level.⁵⁹ [96] Since, then,
the equal is so called in two ways, when the geometers in sketching⁶⁰ the
straight line say “the straight line is the one that lies evenly with its own
parts”, they are taking “equally” either in the first signification or the
⁵⁷ This definition appears in Euclid (Elements I, Definition 4), except that Euclid says
“signs [i.e. points; cf. [20]] on itself” instead of “its own parts”. It is hard to see exactly what
this means. However, as Thomas Heath remarked in his commentary on this definition,
“the sort of idea which Euclid wished to express was that of a line which presents the same
shape at and relatively to all points on it, without any irregular or asymmetrical feature
distinguishing one side or part of it from another” (Heath 1956, 165–9, quotation at 167).
On the difference here between Sextus and Euclid, see also Dye and Vitrac 2009, 178–9.
⁵⁸ With Blomqvist 1968, 83 I read ep’eidous for the mss. epipedos. The contrast here is
clearly between generic and more specific principles, and precisely this language is used to
express such a contrast at M 8.338. Epipedos would yield the sense “the plane straight line”.
This phrase itself would be odd, and the word “plane” would be quite unmotivated in
context; but the mistake would be an easy one for a not overly attentive scribe to make,
especially given that the geometrical term “plane” appears numerous times in this book.
⁵⁹ Obviously this does not work in English. The Greek word isos can mean “equal”, but
also “even” or “flat”. Using the same English word throughout would obscure the sense in a
number of places; it seemed preferable to alternate in the translation but to alert the reader.
Thus it is the same word that I have translated (in an adverbial phrase) by “evenly” in the
present sentence and in the definition in [94] and [96], and also by “equal” or “equally” in
this sentence and the following discussion.
⁶⁰ Hupographontes, which can mean “describing”, but can also refer to various kinds of
literal drawing. The juxtaposition of this word in the Greek with grammên, “line”, leads me
to think Sextus intends a dry pun here; hence my choice of “sketching”.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
second. But if it is in the first, they are completely senseless; for that a
straight line is equal in magnitude to its own parts and neither exceeding
these nor being exceeded by these makes no sense. [97] But if it is in the
second, they will be teaching by means of the very thing being investi-
gated, if indeed they establish that it is straight from its having its parts
lying in a level fashion and in a straight line, but something’s lying in a
straight line is not to be learned if we have not got a grip on the straight
line.⁶¹ [98] But they come out much more absurd when they define it as
follows: a straight line is what is rotated equally with its own limits; or
like this: what when rotated around its own limits touches the plane with
all parts of itself.⁶² For, first, these accounts also fall under the impasses
that we spoke of before; and then, just as the Epicureans say, the straight
line made of void⁶³ is straight, but it is not rotated, owing to the very fact
that void itself, either as a whole or in part, does not admit motion. [99]
Now the final account also falls into the reciprocal mode, which is very
bad. For they teach both of the plane via the straight line and of the
straight line via the plane; for they say that a straight line is what touches
the plane in all its parts, and that a plane turns out to be what the straight
line is drawn through and touches with all its parts, so that in order for us
⁶¹ Both the language and the thought here are awkward. But Sextus’ point is clearly that
in this understanding of “equal” or “even”, the definition of the straight line is not to be
understood unless one already understands what a straight line is. Mueller 1982, 72–3 gives
a sympathetic reading of this in light of ancient conceptions of the subject.
⁶² Unlike the rotating line discussed earlier (cf. [26] and accompanying note, also
[65]–[73]), we are here to imagine the line being held in the same place and twirled around,
as in the turning of a stationary axis. If the line was anything other than straight, parts of it
would not stay even with the plane during this rotation. Compare Heron, Definitions 4;
among the definitions of the straight line is “that which, when its limits stay in place, itself
stays in place, when it is, as it were, rotated in the same plane”.
⁶³ The only thing it could be made of, on Epicurean principles, assuming that lines are
incorporeal. But Sextus need not endorse the Epicurean doctrine of atoms and void in order
to argue that a line, not being (by the geometers’ own understanding) a physical object,
cannot undergo operations such as rotation. Still, there is good reason to think that this part
of the book is more broadly indebted to Epicurean material; for example, the notion of a
“partless body” in [100]–[101]—that is, a body that cannot be divided even theoretically
into parts—is closely connected with the Epicureans’ notion of “minimal parts”, which was
central to their objections to Euclidean geometry. See Cambiano 1999, 587–95, and for
more on “minimal parts”, LS section 9. Verde 2013 argues that this passage shows evidence
not only of an Epicurean critique of Euclidean geometry, but of a positive Epicurean
geometry. In contrast, Netz 2015 is a thoroughgoing rebuttal of any attempt (of which
there have been several) to discern a constructive interest in mathematics among Epicur-
eans; the present passage of Sextus is not a particular focus of the article, but for a specific
response to Verde see n. 10.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
to learn the straight line, we have to learn the plane first, but to achieve
this, it is necessary to know the straight line beforehand—which is absurd.
And in general, someone who is teaching of the straight line via the plane is
doing none other than establishing the straight line via the straight line,
since according to them the plane is multiple straight lines.
b. Problems with the angle (100–6)

[100] And the argument about the angle would also be like the one about
the straight line. For again, when they sketch⁶⁴ it by saying that an angle
is the minimum under the inclination of two straight lines that do
not lie parallel,⁶⁵ by “minimum” they mean either the partless body or
their purported sign or point. [101] But they would not say that it is
the partless body, since this cannot even be divided into two parts,
while the angle, according to them, is cut to infinity. And besides, with
the angle they say that one is greater and the other smaller; but nothing is
shorter than the minimal body, since in that case it, and not the latter,
will become the minimum. [102] It remains, therefore, to say that it is
their purported sign—which itself is also something intractable. For if
the sign is altogether in every way dimensionless, the angle will not be
divided. Then again, there will not be any angle that is either greater or
less; for among things that have no dimension there cannot be any
difference in terms of magnitude. [103] And besides, if the sign falls
between the straight lines, it delimits the straight lines, and in delimiting
them it will not be dimensionless. [104] Good god: some of them are in
⁶⁴ Cf. n. 60.
⁶⁵ The definition of an angle in Euclid is “the inclination to one another of two lines
that meet one another and do not lie in a straight line” (Elements I, Definition 8, identical
in Heron, Definitions 14). The main difference is that while for Euclid the angle is the
inclination, for Sextus it is “the minimum under the inclination”; at [104], in what looks
like a variant of the same wording, it is said to be “the first distance under the
inclination”. Now, Proclus (Commentary on the First Book of Euclid’s Elements, 125)
reports a very similar definition of angle as “the first distance under the point”; and it
does look as if both the definitions in Sextus use “inclination” (klisis) to mean “point at
which the lines meet [sc. at a certain inclination to one another]”. The remaining puzzle is
what is meant by the “minimum” or “first distance” under this point. The idea seems to
be that, since the point itself cannot be an angle, the angle itself, which is a function of
how the lines diverge from one another, is a minuscule distance out from that point,
where they have just started to diverge. Heath sees in this idea “the germ of a valuable
conception in infinitesimals, an attempt (though partial and imperfect) to get at the rate
of divergence between the lines at their point of meeting as a measure of the angle between
them” (Heath 1956, 177, his emphasis).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
the habit of saying that an angle is the first distance under the inclin-
ation.⁶⁶ Against them
Simple in nature is the tale of truth.⁶⁷
For either this distance is partless or it has parts. But if it is partless,

the impasses mentioned before will follow for them, and if it has parts,
there will be no first one; for the one set down as the first will be found to
have another one before it, because of their doctrine of the cutting to
infinity of the things that there are.
[105] I won’t bother saying that a concept of angles like this also
conflicts with some other expert discourse. For they draw distinctions
and say that one sort of angle is right, one obtuse, and one acute, and that
of the obtuse sort there is a progression of more obtuse ones, and likewise
for the acute sort. [106] Now, if we say that an angle is the minimal
distance under the inclination, differences like this among angles will not
be preserved, in so far as they both exceed one another and are exceeded
by one another; or if they are preserved, the angle is done away with, not
having a set measure by which it is to be discerned.
c. The hopelessness of the circle, given the foregoing

arguments (106–7)
These, then, are the kinds of things to be said against them about the
straight line and the angle; [107] as for the circle, they define it by saying
“a circle is a plane figure surrounded by a single line, and the straight
lines from the center that meet it are equal to one another”.⁶⁸ But they’re
wasting their time; for if the sign and the line and the straight line and
also the plane are done away with, a circle cannot be conceived either.
9. The promised focus on “the theories that

come after their principles” (108–16)
a. Recalling of previously announced plan (108)
[108] But so that we do not seem to be somewhat sophistical, and to be
using up the entire layout of our counter-argument on the principles of
⁶⁶ See again n. 65. ⁶⁷ Euripides, Phoenician Women 469.

⁶⁸ This is virtually the same as Euclid, Elements I, Definition 15, except that Euclid says
“from one of the points lying inside the figure” instead of “from the center”, and then
defines “center” in the next definition.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
geometry alone,⁶⁹ let’s go ahead and move on and, as we promised

before,⁷⁰ inquire into the theories that come after their principles.
b. Problems in bisecting a straight line (109–11)

[109] When they say, then, that they will bisect a given straight line, they
are saying that they are bisecting either the one given on the board or the
one that is conceived by way of a transition from this.⁷¹ But they will not
say that they are bisecting the one given on the board; for this is apparent
as having⁷² perceptible length and breadth, while what they count as a
straight line is a breadthless length, so that the line on the board, not
being one according to them,⁷³ will not be bisected as a line either. [110]
Then again, nor is it the line conceived by way of transition from this.
Imagine it, for the sake of argument, as consisting of nine points, four
and four being counted from each of the extremes, and one point taking
the middle between the two groups of four. Then if the whole line is
bisected, the cut will pass either between this fifth point and one of the
groups of four, or over the fifth one itself, so as to divide it into two as
⁶⁹ But elsewhere Sextus is happy to base his entire case on arguments concerning the
principles. In this book, contrast [18], which in turn is said to be an instance of a
methodology laid out at the start of the entire work (1.40). Proclus claims that both the
Epicureans and the Skeptics limit their criticisms of geometry to an attack on principles
(Commentary on the First Book of Euclid’s Elements, 199). But he then says that the
Epicurean Zeno of Sidon accepted the principles, but argued that the things claimed by
the geometers to follow from them do not follow without additional unsupported assump-
tions, and later (214–15) gives an instance of this kind of reasoning on Zeno’s part. Sextus
seems to be following the same kind of procedure here; again (cf. n. 63), we may suspect
Epicurean source material, in this case of a non-standard variety.
⁷⁰ Cf. [93].
⁷¹ On “transition” (metabasis) as the means by which geometrical objects may be
conceived on the basis of perceptible images or analogies, cf. [25], [40]ff.
⁷² Literally “appears to have” (phainetai echein). But Sextus’ main emphasis is on the fact
that this will strike everyone as obvious, not on the possibility that one might be deceived, as
“appears to have” might suggest. On the other hand, he would not necessarily want to rule
out that possibility, and so the nuance of “appears to have” may not be entirely off the mark.
What Sextus is willing to take for granted in a given context, and what he wants to leave in
question, is often a very delicate matter.
⁷³ i.e. not being a line. I retain the mss. hê before grammê, omitted by Mau; without it,
the translation would be “so that the one on the board, not being a line according to them”.
But the Greek would be awkward, and there may indeed be something wrong with the text;
several manuscripts omit the second hê in the phrase hê grammê hê epi tou abakos, although
this would be grammatically impossible. My “not being one according to them” (mê ousa
kat’autous) is admittedly something of a stretch as well. (Bury adds grammê at this point to
make it explicitly “not being a line”.) In any case the basic point is clear: the line on the
board does not qualify as a genuine geometrical line.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
well. [111] Now, for the cut to pass between the fifth line and one of the
groups of four is something irrational; for the segments will become
unequal—one will consist of four points and the other of five. But
dividing the point itself into two is much more irrational than the
previous case; for they will not be letting the sign stay dimensionless—
it’s divided into two by the cut.
c. Problems in cutting a circle into equal parts (112–15)

[112] And the same argument applies when they say that they are cutting
the circle into equal parts. For if the circle is cut into equal parts, then
since it has the center, which is itself a sign, at the absolute middle, either
it⁷⁴ will be apportioned to this segment or that, or it will itself be bisected.
But having it be apportioned to this or that segment makes the bisection
unequal, while for it to be itself bisected is in conflict with the sign’s being
dimensionless and partless. [113] And what cuts the line is either a body
or incorporeal. But it cannot turn out to be a body; for that would not cut
something partless⁷⁵ and incorporeal and not vulnerable to itself.⁷⁶ Nor
can it be incorporeal, for this, again, if it is a point, would not cut, because
it is partless and falls on something partless, but if it is a line, since it
ought to cut with its own limit, and its limit is partless, again it does not
cut. [114] And besides, the limit that cuts bisects the line either by falling
between the two points, or by passing over the middle of the sign. But
passing over the middle of the sign is something impossible; for, as we
said before, that over which it passes will have to have parts and turn out
as no longer dimensionless. [115] But for it to pass between the two
points is much more irrational. For, first, no limit can fall in the middle
of something continuous; and then, even if such a thing is granted as
possible, it ought to shift the things between which it arranges itself,
⁷⁴ i.e. the center.

⁷⁵ I follow the mss. reading ameres. Mau emends to athiges, “intangible”, following
Heintz, based on the parallel passage of Against the Physicists (M 9.286). Heintz stresses
that a line cannot be thought of as partless. But the very next sentence speaks of the cutting
agent as “falling on something partless”. Sextus must be thinking of the line as composed
of points, each of which is of course partless, and the cut occurring at one of these; this
becomes explicit in [114]. It is also explored explicitly in the parallel passage of Against
the Physicists, M 9.288; so the parallel does not in fact count so clearly in favor of
the emendation.
⁷⁶ i.e. to the cutting agent.
BOOK : AGAINST THE GEOMETERS 
if they are continuous; but these are immovable. So the argument about
what cuts is also intractable.
d. Final problems concerning subtraction (116)
[116] Yet even if we grant to them that subtractions are made in the case
of these perceptible lines,⁷⁷ neither in this way will they be able to have a
smooth ride. For the subtraction will occur either from the whole line or
from a part, and what is subtracted will be either equal from equal or
unequal from unequal;⁷⁸ but neither of these allows easy passage, as we
established in the treatises Against the Grammarians⁷⁹ and Against the
Physicists;⁸⁰ therefore it is not possible for the geometers to subtract and
cut anything from a line.
⁷⁷ i.e. the lines on the board referred to in [109]. “Subtract” here is used as equivalent to
“cut”, as indicated by the final words of this section.
⁷⁸ i.e. the part subtracted and the part left behind will be either equal or unequal.
⁷⁹ 1.162–4. The context is the division of verses into parts, but the argument against
subtraction is presented in quite general terms.
⁸⁰ M 9.280–320 is about subtraction. The specific alternatives “equal from equal” or
“unequal from unequal” are addressed at 298–307; the context is the subtraction of body
from body, but this is explicitly previewed at 294 in a mention of lines on a board. Problems
concerning subtraction from wholes or from parts are discussed at 308–20.
Book 4
Against the Arithmeticians
1. Transition from Against the Geometers (1)

[1] Since one sort of quantity applies to continuous bodies, which is
called magnitude, which is what geometry is especially about, while the
other applies to discrete things, which is number, which is what arith-
metic is concerned with,¹ let us move on from the principles and theories
of geometry and look at those that are about number; for if this has been
done away with, nor will there get to be the expertise that is assembled
around it.
2. Pythagorean account of numbers

and their importance (2–9)
[2] In general the Pythagoreans involved with mathematics² assign great
power to numbers, treating the nature of the universe as being admin-
istered in accordance with them. Hence they were always proclaiming
¹ In Greek there is a close verbal connection between “number” (arithmos) and “arith-
metic” (arithmêtikê). The Pythagorean and Platonic ideas that Sextus goes on to discuss
may hardly look to us like arithmetic; and it has been suggested that he might better have
called this book Against Those who Teach that Numbers are Principles (Brisson 2006).
However, there were a variety of ways of studying numbers in antiquity, all of which could
be called “arithmetic”. In particular, besides the formal Euclidean approach that is the
ancestor of our own conception of the subject, there was a more metaphysical approach
associated with the Pythagorean and Platonic traditions, and it is the latter on which Sextus
chooses to focus. See the Introduction, Section 4, also Corti 2015a, esp. section 2.
² This seems to refer to a subgroup within the Pythagorean tradition (although cf. n. 11).
Elsewhere we hear of a division among Pythagoras’ followers between Mathêmatikoi, who
were concerned with mathematics (including the truths it supposedly afforded concerning
the nature of the universe), and Akousmatikoi, who accumulated Pythagorean sayings (or
akousmata, “things heard”) and conducted themselves according to them, but were not
theoretically inclined (Iamblichus, Life of Pythagoras 81–2). I take apo tôn mathêmatôn to
refer to mathematics, not to “disciplines” in general; cf. 3.2 and accompanying note (n. 4).
BOOK : AGAINST THE ARITHMETICIANS 
Everything is like number,
swearing not only by number but also by the one who brought it to their
attention, Pythagoras, treating him as a god because of the power in
arithmetic, saying
No, by the one who imparted to our soul the tetractys,
Spring that holds the roots of everlasting nature.³
[3] Tetractys is what they called the “fourth number”, composed out of
the first four numbers.⁴ For one and two and three and four add up to
ten, which is the most perfect number, since when we have got to it, we
return again to the unit and perform our counting from the beginning.
And they have called it the “spring that holds the roots of everlasting
nature” because according to them the rationale of everything’s consti-
tution lies in it—of the body and the soul, to take an obvious case; for it
will be enough to mention these as an illustration. [4] Well then, the unit
is set down as a sort of principle productive of the constitution of the
other numbers, while the dyad⁵ is productive of length. For just as in the
case of geometrical principles we indicated first what the point is, and
³ Sextus also quotes these anonymous Pythagorean verses at M 7.94; the previous
“everything is like number” occurs in the same place and at M 7.109. Both also appear in
other authors: “everything . . . ” in Theon of Smyrna 99 and Simplicius, Commentary on
Aristotle’s Physics, CAG vol. 10, p. 1102, l. 22; the pair of lines in Theon of Smyrna 94,
Aetius 282 Diels.
⁴ With some hesitation I retain the mss. tetartos, “fourth”, before “number”, along with
Mau. Bekker changed this to deka, “ten”, giving the sense “the number ten”. This is
undeniably easier to understand. However, the phrase “fourth number” is clearly related
to the term “tetractys” itself, which includes the Greek root for “four” but refers to the
number ten (as being the sum of the first four numbers, as Sextus immediately goes on to
explain). The term “fourth number” occurs in the mss. in [5] and is also a plausible
correction in [9], so it would not be especially surprising to find it here. On the other
hand, there is nothing in the manuscripts corresponding to “four” in the phrase “the first
four numbers”, and editors have added either tessarôn, “four”, or (Mau’s choice) the letter δ,
which functions as the numeral 4. One might therefore take the copyist to have put the
mention of four in the wrong place and either changed “four” to “fourth” or misunderstood
δ as meaning “fourth” rather than “four”—it could stand for either depending on the
context. (If I follow them correctly, this is the solution of Pellegrin et al.) In this case one
would delete “fourth” and simply read “Tetractys is what they called the number composed
out of the first four numbers”.
⁵ i.e. pair, group of two. The word “dyad” is perhaps unfamiliar, but I retain it because it
figures regularly in the scholarship on Pythagoreanism. (I do not, however, extend this
pattern to other numbered groups; cf. n. 25.)
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
then after it the line, which turns out to be a breadthless length,⁶ in the
same way in the present case, too, the unit occupies the role of the point,
and the dyad that of the line and length; for when conceiving this,
thought has gone from one place to another, and this is length. [5]
And the triad was correlated with breadth and the surface; for the
mind was carried from one place to another and again another. And
when the dimension of breadth is added to the dimension of length, a
surface is conceived. But if, over and above the triad, one considers a
fourth unit, that is a fourth sign, a pyramid comes into being, a solid
body and figure; for it has length and breadth and depth; so that the
formula⁷ of the body is contained in the fourth number. [6] Then again,
so is that of the soul; for they say that as the whole world is organized in
terms of harmony, so too the animal is endowed with soul. And the
perfect harmony seems to obtain its subsistence in three concords, the
fourth, the fifth, and the octave.⁸ Well, the fourth lies in a one-third-
again ratio [4:3], the fifth in a one-and-a-half ratio [3:2], and the octave
in a double ratio [2:1].⁹ [7] And a number is called one-third-again [4/3]
which is constituted out of some whole number and a third part of that
one, as eight stands in relation to six; for it includes the six itself and a
third of it, that is the dyad. And a number is called one-and-a-half [3/2]
when it includes a number and half of that one, as nine stands in relation
to six; for it is constituted out of the six and half of it, that is, three. And
the number equal to two equal numbers is called double [2/1], as four is
in relation to two; for it includes the same one twice. [8] But since these
things are so, and according to the original hypothesis there are four
numbers, one and two and three and four, in which we said that the form
of the soul is contained according to the harmonious ratio, four is double
two and two is double the unit, in which the octave concord lies, [9] and
three is one-and-a-half two (for it includes the two itself and half of this,
⁶ Cf. 3.19ff.
⁷ Logos, a very multifaceted word that is often hard to translate; in this case it seems
to refer, roughly, to the rational principle that makes sense of the way something is
(cf. “rationale” in [3], which is also logos, as is “ratio” in [6]).
⁸ On the concords, cf. 6.45–6.
⁹ “One-third-again” and “one-and-a-half” translate as literally as possible the Greek
words epitritos and hêmiolios, which are used in various mathematical and musical contexts
to express the 4:3 and 3:2 ratios respectively. For ease of comprehension I also insert the
numerical expressions. For a brief account of the Pythagoreans’ use of these ideas, and their
connection with cosmic harmony, see Kahn 2001, chapter 3.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ARITHMETICIANS 
and hence furnishes the concord of a fifth), and four is one-third-again

three, and in this the concord of a fourth is set down. So that it was
reasonable for the fourth number to be called by the Pythagoreans
“spring that holds the roots of everlasting nature”.
3. Transition to counter-argument, to
be centered around the unit (10)
[10] But it is clear from what has been said, more or less as an illustra-
tion, that they assigned a lot of power to numbers; for their discussion
about numbers is extensive. But let’s avoid lengthy treatment of this for
now, and get to grips with the counter-argument, making the starting
point of our arguments from the unit, which stands as the starting point
of all number;¹⁰ if this is done away with, there will not be number either.
4. Platonic conception of the one and the

things that participate in it (11–13)
[11] So, Plato shapes for us the concept of the one in a somewhat
Pythagorean manner;¹¹ he says “one is that without which nothing is
called one” or “that by participation in which each thing is called one and
many”. For the vegetable, for example, and the animal and the stone are
called one, but are not one on their own account,¹² but are conceived as
one by participation in one, none of them having this status. [12] For
neither a vegetable nor an animal nor a stone nor any other of the things
counted is the really one. For if a vegetable or an animal is the one, what
is not a vegetable or an animal will definitely not be called one; but a
vegetable and an animal and millions of other things are called one; [13]
¹⁰ On archê, “starting point”, cf. 3.1 and accompanying note. This is another case where
Sextus is having fun by using the same word for the beginning of his argument and for
the claimed principle of arithmetic; were it not for this, I would translate archê in the latter
case by “principle”, as I did in [4].
¹¹ It would be more historically accurate to say that the ideas to follow originally derived
from Plato and his immediate successors in the Academy, but quickly become associated
with the Pythagorean tradition. On the interpenetration of Platonic and Pythagorean ideas,
see Kahn 2001, chapters 4 and 5.
¹² i.e. (as the sequel makes clear), oneness does not belong to any of these things by
definition and exclusively.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
therefore none of the things counted is the one, but it’s that by partici-
pation in which each thing becomes one and many—one when each is
taken by itself, but many by accumulation of those taken individually.¹³
And this plurality, again, is not any of the many things, such as veget-
ables, animals, or stones; it is by way of participation in the former that
these things are called many, whereas it is not in them.¹⁴
5. Arguments against this picture (14–20)

[14] Well, this is how the Form¹⁵ of the one is conceived by the followers
of Plato; let’s join to it what we have to say. Either the Form of the one
is other than the particular things counted, or it is conceived together
with those things that participate in it. But by itself,¹⁶ beyond the
particular things counted, no underlying one is conceived. It remains,
therefore, that it is conceived as in those things that participate in it,
which is again something intractable. [15] For if the log counted is one by
¹³ Following Heintz, Mau transposes <metechon hen te kai polla ginetai> from after
athroismôi (its position in the mss.) to after to de hou hekaston, and I follow their text. Other
translators have generally kept the word order of the mss. But, as Corti (forthcoming)
convincingly argues, this is very difficult both syntactically—the position of metechon and
the close repetition of hekaston are extremely awkward—and in terms of the resulting
thought, which would be that the one (that is, the Platonic Form of one) is the one and the
many of the individual things, a strikingly un-Platonic idea. By contrast, with the trans-
position the word order is much more natural, and the sentence is easily understood as
expanding on the second characterization of the one in [11].
¹⁴ This might mean that it is not one of them (but on a different level from them—so
Bury), or that it is not a feature or aspect of these collections of multiple objects (but a
separate item over and above them); cf. n. 17.
¹⁵ Idea, which is one of the words used by Plato for his purely intelligible Forms. It can
also refer to form in a more general sense (cf. [8] above). But the language of “participation”
throughout this passage indicates that Sextus is speaking of the separately existing items,
accessible only to the intellect, that Plato has Socrates discuss in several dialogues. Idea in
this context is often simply rendered “Idea” in English, but I prefer to avoid this because it
can too easily be taken to suggest a purely psychological item; if there is one thing clear
about Platonic Forms, it is that they exist independently of our thought. I follow the
conventional device of using the capital letter to indicate that we are dealing with the
metaphysical Platonic notion of Form.
¹⁶ Following a conjecture of Bekker, Mau here inserts <ouch’ huphestêken, eige>, giving
the sense “But it <does not subsist> by itself, <seeing that> beyond . . . ”. This seems to me
unnecessary; it is clear enough without it that Sextus is eliminating the first of the two
alternatives just mentioned. In doing so, he seems to be simply begging the question against
the Platonic conception, although many others, such as Aristotle and the Stoics, would be
on his side.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ARITHMETICIANS 
participation in the unit, what is not a log will not be called one;¹⁷ but it is
called this, as was indicated above; therefore there is not the unit by
participation in which each of the particular counted things is called a
unit. [16] And then, what is participated in by many things is many and
not one, and the counted things are many, indeed infinite; it is not,
therefore, by participation in the unit that each of the things counted is
one. [17] Just as the generic human being, then, whom some conceive as
a rational mortal animal, is neither Socrates nor Plato, since in that case
no one else will be called a human being, and does not subsist either by
itself or with Plato and Socrates, since in that case it would have been
observed as a human being,¹⁸ so too the one, conceived as subsisting
neither together with the particular things counted nor by itself, is right
away inconceivable. [18] And the same things are also to be said in the case
of two and three and (not to go on too long) in general every number. It is
also possible to put the question like this. The Form of the one, by
participation in which something is called one, is either one Form or
there turn out to be multiple Forms of the one. But if it is one, it is not
participated in by many things;¹⁹ for if A (to make it a well-signed²⁰
lesson) has the whole Form of the one, B, since it does not participate in
¹⁷ The thought seems to be that if the one is in the things that participate in it (which is
the possibility now under consideration), any given type of object that participates in it, say
logs, will have the one all to itself, so to speak, meaning that no object of any other type
(“what is not a log”) can be called one. This is reminiscent of the argument in [11]–[13]; the
crucial difference is that that (Platonic) argument depended on a contrast between some-
thing’s being one “on its own account” (kata ton idion logon) and being one by participation
in the one—the former excluding anything else from being one and the latter allowing it—
whereas in this (anti-Platonic) argument the one’s being “in” something (in such a way as to
exclude any other type of thing from being one) is treated as what that thing’s participation
in the one amounts to. There is some justice to Heintz’s complaint (278–9) that Sextus
switches unaccountably in this passage between considering the Form “together with” (sun)
the particulars—that is, as an object alongside them—and “in” (en) them—that is, as in
some way belonging to them as a feature or aspect; cf. n. 14.
¹⁸ Mau inserts <tis> after anthrôpos, giving the sense “as a certain human being”—that
is, as a particular human being rather than the generic human being. I am not sure that the
supplement is needed; since Greek lacks an indefinite article, anthrôpos on its own can
mean “a human being”, and the context makes clear that this is what Sextus means here.
¹⁹ After “if it is one”, Mau inserts <êtoi amerês ê polumerês estin; ei de amerês>, “it is
either partless or many-parted; but if it is partless”. It is true that Sextus must be thinking
along these lines, given the way the argument develops; but it does not follow that he
actually said this in the text, and the mss. reading seems to me unproblematic at this point.
²⁰ Eusêmou, “well-signed”, can mean simply “clear”. But I suspect that Sextus is drawing
attention to his use of the symbols A and B, which imparts an air of technical sophistication
to his discussion (intended ironically, of course).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
this, will no longer be one. [19] Then again, it does not stand as many-
parted either, to allow there to be many things participating in it; for,
first, each of them will be participating not in the Form of the one, but in
a part of it, and then, the unit is conceived according to them as
undivided and partless. But if there are multiple Forms of the one, each
of the things counted, classified individually—either A or B, each as
one—participates in some common Form or does not participate.²¹
[20] And if it does not participate, everything will have to be classified
in terms of the one, even apart from participating in a Form, which they
do not want. But if it does participate, the original impasse will be
brought in at the same time: how will the two participate in one?²²
²¹ Along with Pellegrin et al. I translate the mss. text, with one exception: instead of êtoi
tou henos ê tou duo I read êtoi tou A ê tou B, on the assumption that the copyist has
misunderstood the letters A and B, used to mark arbitrary examples, as standing for
numerals (cf. n. 4). The text I translate is therefore ei de pleious eisin ideai tou henos,
hekaston tôn kath’hen tassomenôn arithmêtôn, êtoi tou A ê tou B kath’hen hekateron,
metechei tinos koinês ideas ê ou metechei. But something is clearly wrong with this text.
Syntactically, êtoi tou A ê tou B (genitive) kath’hen hekateron (nominative), which I have
rendered “either A or B, each as one”, is intolerably awkward. And the thought, with the text
as it stands, entirely fails to address the possibility introduced at the beginning of the
sentence: that there are multiple Forms of the one. The parallel passage of Against the
Physicists (M 10.296), which has a good deal of wording in common with the present
passage, says that if this is the case, each of these multiple Forms must either participate in
some common, second-order Form, or not do so; and then, in a passage corresponding to
[20], impossibilities are inferred from both these options (see n. 22). Heintz, followed by
Mau, borrows liberally from this passage and proposes ei de pleious eisin ideai tou henos,
<hôs> hekaston tôn kath’hen tassomenôn arithmêtôn <idias tinos metechein ideas>, êtoi
<hê> tou A <kai> hê tou B metechei tinos koinês ideas <kath’hên hekateron autôn
prosagoreuetai hen>, ê ou metechei—“But if there are multiple Forms of the one, so that
each of the things counted, classified individually, participates in a certain Form of its
own, either the Form of A and that of B participate in a certain common Form, in virtue of
which each of them is called one, or they do not participate”. Although in general I find this
kind of procedure suspect (cf. book 3, n. 36), and although there seems to be at least one
problem with the proposed reconstruction—the plural <hê> tou A <kai> hê tou B as the
subject of the singular metechei—I think it is clear (unless Sextus for some reason left the
passage in a very garbled early stage) that something like this must have been the original
sense. Thanks to Lorenzo Corti for discussion of this passage.
²² i.e. how will two different things participate in one Form? Versions of this point
appeared at [16] and [18]. Assuming that Sextus was in fact talking of multiple Forms
participating in a higher-order Form (see the previous note), the alternatives in [20] are
laid out a little more clearly and fully in the parallel passage of Against the Physicists
(M 10.297–8): either this is not so—in which case, quite generally, there is no need for a
Form of one in order for a thing to be one—or, if it is so, we are back with a version of the
previous problem concerning multiple things participating in a single Form.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ARITHMETICIANS 
6. Further arguments, inspired by Plato,

against the dyad (20–2)
That’s enough about the unit—and if it is done away with, all number is
done away with; [21] nonetheless, let’s join to it the things about the
dyad. For it too is constituted in something of an impasse, by way of the
coming together of units, just as Plato too at an earlier time was at an
impasse in his On the Soul.²³ For when a unit is juxtaposed with another
unit, either something is added in virtue of the juxtaposition, or some-
thing is taken away, or there is neither something added nor taken away.
[22] But if there is neither something added nor taken away, there will
not be the dyad in virtue of the juxtaposition of the one unit with the
other. But if something is taken away in virtue of the juxtaposition, there
will be a lessening of the one and one, and a dyad will not come into
being. And if something is added, the two will not become two but four;
for the dyad that comes into being in addition, plus the unit and the
other unit, constitutes the number four. Therefore nothing will be a
dyad. And the same impasse would also occur in the case of every
number, so that in virtue of this number is nothing.²⁴
7. Arguments against subtraction and addition,

both essential to arithmetic (23–33)
[23] No, but in fact, since number is conceived by way of the addition
and subtraction of units, it is clear that if we establish each of these as
impossible, the subsistence of number too will be gone. Let us speak first
of all about subtraction, making use of instruction by examples. [24] So,
take a ten:²⁵ the unit subtracted from this is subtracted either from the
ten as a whole or from the nine left over; but it is not from the whole, as
we will establish, nor from the nine, as we will teach; therefore nothing is
²³ i.e. the Phaedo; the passage is 96e–97a. For a detailed examination of this passage and
its relation to the Phaedo as well as to the other works of Sextus in which this argument is
discussed, see Corti 2015b.
²⁴ Or perhaps, “nothing is a number”.
²⁵ Literally a “decad” or group of ten (cf. n. 5). Throughout this passage Sextus uses this
and also “ennead”, or group of nine. Since these are simply noun forms from the corres-
ponding numerals (deka and ennea respectively), they can be readily rendered “the ten” and
“the nine” (especially since they almost always occur with the definite article).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
subtracted from the posited ten. For if the unit is subtracted from this as
a whole, either the ten is other than the particular units or the collection
of these is called a ten. [25] But the ten is not other than the particular
units; for when they have been done away with there is not a ten either,
and similarly, when the ten has been done away with the units no longer
exist. But if the ten is the same as the units—that is, the particular units
are the ten—it is clear that if the subtraction of the unit occurs from the
ten, it will be subtracted from each unit (for the particular units were the
ten), and in this way it will no longer be the removal of a unit but of a ten.
So that the unit is not removed from the ten as a whole. [26] Then again,
nor does its removal take place from the nine left over; for how, after its
removal, is the posited nine still safe and sound? But if the unit is
removed neither from the ten as a whole nor from the nine left over,
no number is constituted by way of subtraction. [27] Besides, if the unit
is removed from the nine, it is removed either from the whole or from its
final unit. And if the unit is subtracted from the nine as a whole, there
will be a removal of the nine; for what is subtracted from each unit, the
particular units being nine, composes the number of the nine. [28] But if
the business of subtraction takes place from the final unit, for one thing
the final unit, which is partless, will be shown to be separable into parts,
which is absurd; and then, if the unit is removed from the final unit, the
nine will not be able to remain still complete. [29] And besides, if the
removal of the unit occurs from the ten, it is from the ten which either is,
or is not, that a removal occurs; but it could occur neither from the one
that is (for as long as it remains a ten, nothing can be subtracted from it
as a ten, since in that case it will no longer be a ten), nor from a ten that is
not; [30] for from what is not, nothing is of a nature to be removed.
And²⁶ beyond being and not being nothing is to be conceived; therefore
nothing is removed from the ten.
Well, that there is no means of conceiving any number via subtraction
has been shown from this; [31] that there is no means of doing so via
addition is easy to show by taking hold of analogous impasses. For again,
if a unit is added to a ten, it has to be said that the addition occurs to the
²⁶ Bekker’s addition of <mên> after kai (on the basis of Hervetus’ Latin translation
autem), followed by Mau, seems to me unnecessary; however, it does not make a significant
difference to the sense. (I have generally translated the connective kai mên “then again”,
marking a new point.)
BOOK : AGAINST THE ARITHMETICIANS 
whole ten or to the final part of the ten. But if the unit is added to the ten
as a whole, since the whole ten is conceived together with all its particular
units, the addition of the unit will have to happen to all the particular
units of the ten, which is absurd; [32] for it will follow that by the
addition of the unit the ten becomes a twenty, which is something not
feasible. So we can’t say that the unit is added to the ten as a whole. Then
again, not to the final part of the ten either, since the ten will not be
increased, because the increase of the one part is not right away an increase
of the whole ten.²⁷ [33] And in general, on top of everything, the ten
to which the unit is added either remains or does not remain. But the
addition could not happen to it either if it remains, since it will no longer
remain a ten, nor if it does not remain; for an addition cannot happen to
it to begin with if it does not remain.
8. Conclusion to this book and to Against

the Geometers, and transition to Against
the Astrologers (34)
[34] But since number, as I said, is conceived as subsisting by way of
addition and by way of subtraction, and we have shown that there is
neither of these, it has to be said that number is nothing. Hence, having
fully gone through this many impasses against the geometricians and
arithmeticians, we will make another start and proceed with our counter-
argument against the “mathematicians”.²⁸
²⁷ The argument here seems very weak. Obviously an increase made to one part is not
thereby an increase made to each of the other parts individually. But it does not follow that
an increase made to one part is not thereby an increase made to the whole; on the contrary,
it seems plain that, if the part increased is genuinely a part of the whole, the whole too will
be increased.
²⁸ Mathêmatikoi can refer specifically to astronomy or astrology, and this is clearly what
Sextus is referring to here, since this is what comes next. However, at the beginning of
book 5 he seems to suggest that astrology is a branch of mathematics in the usual sense
(5.1), and he clearly implies that the astrologers used the term mathêmatikoi of themselves
as a badge of honor (5.2). Hence I render it “mathematicians”; since Sextus also clearly
thinks the astrologers’ self-conception as serious thinkers is unwarranted, I include scare
quotes in this instance.
Book 5
Against the Astrologers
1. Introduction (1–3)
[1] It is astrology or “mathematics”¹ that the investigation lying before us
is about—not the complete kind that consists of arithmetic and geometry
(for we have argued against the people in these disciplines), nor the
predictive ability possessed by the followers of Eudoxus, Hipparchus,
and the like, which some also call “astronomy” [2] (for, like farming and
navigation, it is an observation applied to apparent things, from which it
is possible to prophesy droughts and downpours, plagues and earth-
quakes, and other changes in the environment of a similar kind²), but
against nativity-telling, which the Chaldeans³ dress up with more solemn
¹ Cf. 4.34 and accompanying note. In calling arithmetic and geometry “complete”
mathematics (teleiou), Sextus seems to suggest that astrology is a form of mathematics,
but one that is in some sense incomplete or not fully developed.
² This parenthetical remark sounds like an approval of everyday skills that avoid theory
and do not attempt to penetrate beyond the way things appear. For other such remarks, also
intended to contrast what Sextus wishes to attack with what he is happy to accept,
cf. 1.49–56, 6.1–3. What is surprising in this case is the association of these practical
observation-based skills with the astronomy of Eudoxus and Hipparchus. Eudoxus’ astro-
nomical work was as theoretical as anyone’s; and while Hipparchus does seem to have
emphasized careful observation over theoretical models, he is also known to have written on
astrology. See the articles on Eudoxos of Knidos and Hipparkhos of Nikaia in Keyser and
Irby-Massie 2008 (this volume uses transliteration of Greek names rather than the standard
Latinized versions). Sextus appears, then, to be leaning very heavily on the observational
consequences of these astronomers’ work and ignoring the rest. In his defense, one might
say that at least their work does have determinate observational consequences—unlike the
astrology that he is about to attack. On this see Corti 2015a, esp. 134–5, 139–43, also my
Introduction, Section 4.
³ Chaldea was originally a small Semitic nation in the ninth to sixth centuries BCE in
southeastern Mesopotamia; but “Chaldean” later came to be used more or less synonym-
ously with “Babylonian”. Later still the term came to be applied specifically to astrologers,
and this is Sextus’ consistent usage. See the Wikipedia article “Chaldea” for basic orienta-
tion on this history.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
names when they call themselves mathematicians and astrologers, elab-

orately insulting ordinary life, erecting a great deal of superstition against
us, and not letting us use proper reasoning to achieve anything. [3] And
we will know this if we go back a little and first talk about the things that
contribute to their method of inquiry.⁴ It will be something of a cursory
and outline sketch; let’s leave matters of precision to those who pursue
this discipline as their main goal⁵—for us it is sufficient to mention those
things without which it is not possible to launch our counter-arguments
against the Chaldeans.
2. Outline of astrological method (4–42)

a. Initial classification of zodiac signs (4–11)
[4] On the basis, then, of presuppositions—that the things on the earth
are in sympathy with those in the heavens, and that in virtue of the
effluences of the latter they every time undergo innovation
(For such is the mind of earth-dwelling humans
As is the day the father of men and gods brings on)⁶—
[5] the Chaldeans, having looked up rather inquisitively at what sur-

rounds us,⁷ say that the seven stars⁸ occupy the function of active causes
for the coming about of each of the things that happen in life, and that
the parts of the zodiac cooperate. They divide the zodiac circle, as we
⁴ “Of inquiry” is episkeptikên, containing the same root that belongs in skeptikos,
“skeptical”, itself. (Some manuscripts even have the word skeptikên here instead of episkep-
tikên.) If this verbal echo is deliberate, it is clearly an ironic twist on Sextus’ part; the
astrologers’ method is anything but skeptical.
⁵ This might naturally be taken to refer to the astrologers themselves. But it might also be
taken to refer to critics of the astrologers who discuss their ideas in minute detail (with
metiousi, “those who pursue”, understood in a hostile sense). Sextus frequently expresses a
preference for critiques that concentrate on the foundations of a subject rather than the
particulars, and at the start of Against the Physicists (M 9.1–2) he unfavorably contrasts
the Academics’ approach in this respect with his own. Janáček 1995 argues that Sextus has
the Academic Carneades in mind here.
⁶ Odyssey 18.136–7. Sextus quotes the same lines in different contexts in Against the Logicians
(M 7.128) and Outlines of Pyrrhonism (3.244).
⁷ i.e. the heavens that surround the earth.
⁸ i.e. the “wandering” stars (planêtes): Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, plus
the sun and moon.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
have been instructed, into twelve zodiac signs,⁹ and each zodiac sign into
thirty degrees (for the present let this be in agreement with them),¹⁰ and
each degree into sixty “minutes”—this is how they call what are minimal
and partless. [6] And of the zodiac signs they call some masculine, others
feminine, and some two-bodied, others not, and some turning, others
solid.¹¹ [7] Masculine and feminine are those which have a nature that
contributes to male or female births; for the ram [Aries]¹² is a masculine
zodiac sign, while the bull [Taurus] is, they say, a feminine one, the twins
[Gemini] a masculine one, and the rest alternating in a similar relation,
some masculine, some feminine. [8] This, I think, is what moved the
Pythagoreans to call the unit male and the dyad female, the triad again
male, and the rest of the even and odd numbers analogously again.¹³ [9]
Some also divide each zodiac sign into twelve parts and use more or
less the same approach; in the case of the ram, for example, they call the
first twelfth part of it ram and male, the second bull and female, the third
twins and male—and the same formula applies to the other portions.
[10] And they say that the twins and the archer [Sagittarius] that is
diametrically opposite to them, and the virgin [Virgo] and the fishes
[Pisces], are two-bodied zodiac signs, while the rest are not two-bodied.¹⁴
[11] And the turning ones are those in which, when it comes to be there,
the sun changes course and produces turnings in what surrounds us;
the ram is a zodiac sign of this sort, and the one diametrically opposite
⁹ The twelve zodiac signs are constellations of fixed stars, understood as embedded in a
sphere of fixed stars that revolves around the earth from east to west once every twenty-four
hours. The word zôidion, which I translate “zodiac sign”, originally meant “little animal”,
and was used to refer to small carved or painted figures (not necessarily of animals); its use
to refer to the figures imagined in the constellations is a further extension of this.
¹⁰ It is not clear whether this means “let us go along with them about this for now” or
“let us treat this for now as what their view amounts to”; other translators have diverged
on this point. Either way, it does not look as if what is accepted “for now” gets modified
at any later point.
¹¹ The zodiac signs with the main features explained in this paragraph, plus the further
details and the example in the next paragraph, are illustrated in Figure 1, p. 197.
¹² I translate the Greek words for the zodiac signs literally, but after the first occurrence
of each one, I add in brackets the (Latin) name of the astrological sign as it is generally
known today.
¹³ With Giusta 1962, 429 and Pellegrin et al. I retain palin, bracketed by Bekker and Mau.
On the unit, dyad, and triad in Pythagorean thinking, cf. 4.3–5.
¹⁴ “Two-bodied” signs are those that come between the “turning” ones and the “solid”
ones and are thought to share the nature of both. See further n. 17.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
RAM
FIS
LL Center HE
BU S
Mid-Heaven
After-Rising Declination
W
Good Deity God
AT
ER
S
IN
-C
Turning
TW
Declination After-Rising
AR
Solid Masculine 2-Bodied
RIE
Feminine Feminine
Evil Deity Idle
R
2-Bodied Solid
Masculine
HORNED GOAT
Masculine
Center Center
CR A B
Turning Turning
Ascendant Feminine Feminine Setting
Solid 2-Bodied
Masculine Masculine
After-Rising 2-Bodied
Solid
Declination
Turning Feminine
Idle Feminine Evil Fortune
ER
Masculine
L IO
CH
N
AR
Declination Center After-Rising
Goddess Under-Earth, Good Fortune
VI Anti-Mid- ON
RG
IN R PI
Heaven SC O
S CA LES
Figure 1. The Zodiac Circle as explained in [6]–[19] (with clockwise motion)
to it, namely¹⁵ the scales [Libra], and the horned goat [Capricorn] and
the crab [Cancer]. For the spring turning occurs in the ram, the winter
one in the horned goat, the summer one in the crab and the autumn one
in the scales.¹⁶ The solid ones, they have supposed, are the bull and the
one diametrically opposite to it, the scorpion [Scorpio], the lion [Leo]
and the water-carrier [Aquarius].¹⁷
¹⁵ With Blomqvist 1968, 84–5 I read kathaper zugos, present in most mss., instead of
Mau’s ho zugos. As Blomqvist points out, kathaper in Sextus frequently means “namely”,
not “as” or “for example”.
¹⁶ As this description makes clear, “turnings” (tropai) include both the solstices and the
equinoxes. Ptolemy, Tetrabiblos 1.12 distinguishes these two categories, calling only the
solstices “turning” (the others he calls isêmerina, which is equivalent to our “equinox”).
¹⁷ The “solid” ones immediately follow the ones Sextus calls “turning”; according to
Ptolemy (Tetrabiblos 1.12) they are so called because they solidify the atmospheric changes
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
b. Further details on their interrelations and influence (12–22)

[12] Moreover, of all these, the zodiac signs that are dominant at each birth
for the coming forth of results,¹⁸ and from which they especially make their
predictions, they say are four in number, which for a common name they
call “centers”, and more specifically the ascendant,¹⁹ the mid-heaven, the
setting, and the under-earth or anti-mid-heaven, which is itself, too, a
mid-heaven.²⁰ [13] The ascendant is the one that happens to be rising at
the time the birth is completed; the mid-heaven is the fourth zodiac sign
from that one (including that one itself ²¹); the setting is the one diamet-
rically opposite to the ascendant; and the under-earth or anti-mid-
heaven is the one diametrically opposite to the mid-heaven. For instance
(it will be clear with an example), when the crab is in the ascendant the
ram is in the mid-heaven, the horned goat is setting, and the scales is
brought about by the previous “turnings”. The “two-bodied” signs (see [10]) in turn follow
the “solid” ones and immediately precede the next “turning” ones; according to Ptolemy
(Tetrabiblos 1.12) they are so called because, being in this position, they have a share in the
nature of both.
¹⁸ i.e. for the production of effects on the person being born.
¹⁹ The Greek is hôroskopos. I avoid the translation “horoscope” (used in all other
translations, English or otherwise, of which I am aware), because this word now refers to
a reading of the entire situation in the heavens at a given point; the hôroskopos is specifically
the sign rising at the time of someone’s birth. For the relation between hôroskopos and the
corresponding verb hôroskopeô, see n. 20.
²⁰ The ascendant is the sign at the point where zodiac and planets rise above the horizon,
and the setting the one at the point where they sink below it. The “mid-heaven” is at the
point of highest elevation, and the “under-earth” at the corresponding lowest point that the
signs travel beneath the earth—elsewhere called “lower mid-heaven”, hence Sextus’ closing
comment. For clarity on these matters I am indebted to the brief account in Volk 2010;
some of my wording above simply copies hers. It should, however, be noted that in recent
writing on astrology there is a systematic ambiguity in the use of these terms: “ascendant”
etc. refer sometimes to the points in the sky and sometimes to the signs in these points at
any given time. Volk uses them to refer to the points; but for Sextus it is the signs that are
called “ascendant” etc., and so I have adapted the language here to fit his usage. This
ambiguity can be observed by comparing Volk 2010 with Barton 1994, Beck 2007, and the
Wikipedia articles on Ascendant and Mid-Heaven. It seems to be harmless, provided one is
clear whether a location or a zodiac sign at that location is being referred to; and I have
taken advantage of it by translating hôroskopos “ascendant” and the corresponding verb
hôroskopeô, also applied to zodiac signs, “be in the ascendant” (and the same, mutatis
mutandis, for noun and verb forms in the case of “mid-heaven” and “anti-mid-heaven”.
Since “setting” is both a noun and a (participial) verb form, and since the verbal form
dunon, “setting”, appears here alongside noun forms for the other three centers, the same
clear division was not possible in this case).
²¹ i.e. as we would normally say, three signs further on.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
under the earth. [14] Moreover, the zodiac sign that precedes each of
these centers they call declination, and the one that follows after-rising.
[15] Now, they say that the one that rises before the zodiac sign in the
ascendant, which is in plain sight, is the sign of the evil deity; the one
after this,²² which follows the one in the mid-heaven, is that of the good
deity; the one that precedes the one in the mid-heaven is the lower region
and single distribution and god; the one that comes upon²³ the setting is
an idle zodiac sign and the principle of death; [16] the one after the
setting,²⁴ and not in plain sight, is penalty and evil fortune, which is also
diametrically opposite the evil deity; the one that is going under the
earth²⁵ is good fortune, diametrically opposite to the good deity; [17] the
one that departs from²⁶ the anti-mid-heaven, towards the point of rising,
is goddess, diametrically opposite to the god; and the one that follows the
ascendant is idle, which is again diametrically opposite to the idle one.
[18] Or, to say it more concisely, the declination of the zodiac sign in the
ascendant is called evil deity and its after-rising idle; likewise the declin-
ation of the mid-heaven is god, and its after-rising good deity; [19] in the
same way, too, the declination of the anti-mid-heaven is goddess, its
after-rising good fortune; and similarly the declination of the setting is
evil fortune, its after-rising idle. [20] And their examination of these
things, they think, is not a waste of time; for they consider the stars not to
have the same power to do harm, or not, when they are observed at
the centers and at their risings or declinations—it’s more active in the
one place and more inactive in the other. [21] And there have been some
Chaldeans who refer each part of the human body to one of the zodiac
signs, treating them as in sympathy; so they call the head ram, the neck
bull, the shoulders twins, the chest crab, the sides lion, the buttocks
virgin, [22] the flanks scales, the genitals and womb scorpion, the thighs
archer, the knees horned goat, the shins water-carrier, and the feet fishes.
And again, this is not done carelessly, but because, if one of the stars that
²² i.e. the next one further on in the sequence (which will have risen before the one just
mentioned).
²³ i.e. immediately follows.
²⁴ Again (cf. n. 22), “after” as one mentally proceeds around the circle; it is “not in plain
sight” because it has already set.
²⁵ i.e. is getting to the lowest point or “under-earth” but is not there yet; it is the sign next
to the “under-earth” and in the language of [14] and [18] is its “after-rising”.
²⁶ i.e. is on its way up from the lowest point and so is the “declination” of the “under-
earth” or “anti-mid-heaven” (cf. [19]).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
do harm at birth turns out to be in one of these zodiac signs, it brings

about a disability in the part with the same name.
c. Method of dividing the zodiac circle (22–6)

This will do as a sketch of the main points concerning the nature of the
things in the zodiac circle; [23] and it is not out of place, next, to go over
the way they are divided. For since there was an obstacle—the zodiac
signs were not observed in terms of their own individuality, but by
watching seven scattered stars—it occurred to them to divide the whole
circle into twelve portions. [24] For in indicating their approach, they say
that the ancients,²⁷ after watching a certain bright star among those in
the zodiac circle rising, then filled with water a jar with holes in it, and let
it flow into another vessel underneath until the same star rose again; and
guessing that the revolution of the circle had taken place from the same
sign to the same sign, [25] they again took a twelfth of what had flowed
and looked at how long it took to flow. For in this much time, they said,
the twelfth part of the circle had gone by, and the part of the circle that
had moved on has the same ratio to the whole circle as the part of the
water that had flowed has to the whole water. [26] From this point of
reference, I mean the twelfth part, they marked the final limit by some
bright star observed at the time or one of the stars further north or south
arising at the same time. And they did the same in the case of the other
twelfth parts.
d. Method of establishing the ascendant at a person’s

birth (26–8)
Well, such is the approach they use to divide the zodiac circle into this
many portions; [27] and the one they say they used originally to watch
the ascendant at each birth seems to be analogous. For, they say, at night
the Chaldean sat on some high ridge looking at the stars, while someone
else sat beside the woman in labor until she had been delivered, [28] and
when she had been delivered he immediately signaled to the man on the
ridge with a gong. And he on hearing it noted down the rising zodiac sign
²⁷ With Blomqvist 1968, 85 and Spinelli I read palaioi, present in one ms., instead of
palai, read by Mau from the other mss.; however, the sense is unaffected. Bekker and Bury
may also be right to read <hoti>, “that”, after phasin, “they say”. At any rate this must be the
sense, which without hoti is a little awkward, though not impossible.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
as in the ascendant. And by day he turned his attention to time-tellers²⁸

and the motions of the sun.
e. Influence of the “stars” (i.e. planets, sun, and moon)

in various positions (29–40)
[29] That’s enough about zodiac signs. Of the stars, they say that some
are beneficent, some maleficent, and some common;²⁹ for example that
of Zeus [Jupiter] and that of Aphrodite [Venus] are beneficent, that
of Aries [Mars] and Cronus [Saturn] are maleficent, that of Hermes
[Mercury] is common, since it is beneficent when with beneficent ones
and a maleficent when with maleficent ones. [30] But others think that
the same stars are, in virtue of one or another position, sometimes
beneficent and at other times maleficent. Either in relation to the zodiac
sign, or in relation to the configurations of the other stars, the maleficent
star is not entirely maleficent, nor the beneficent one entirely beneficent.
[31] However, they think that of the seven stars the sun and the moon
take the lead, and the remaining five have less power than these with
respect to the coming forth of results;³⁰ this is the reason the Egyptians
liken the sun to the king and the right eye, the moon to the queen and the
left eye, the five stars³¹ to the attendants,³² and the other fixed stars to the
rest of the people. [32] And of the five they say that Cronus and Zeus and
Hermes are in agreement with the sun and help it; these are called
diurnal because the sun, with which they collaborate, has power over
those who are born by day.³³ [33] And the same stars have greater power
²⁸ Hôroskopiois. The standard instruments for telling the time in the ancient world were
the sundial and the water-clock (where a period of time is measured by the amount of water
flowing out of or into a vessel via a small aperture, as described in [24]).
²⁹ i.e. having both good and evil potential.
³⁰ Cf. [12] and n. 18; the wording here is the same.
³¹ i.e. the five planets; cf. [5] and n. 8.
³² Literally, “rod-carriers” (rabdophoroi). The rods in question were symbols of office,
generally carried by someone of lower status than the office-holder himself and shown to
mark that person’s approach. The lictors in Rome were a prominent example of this sort of
role; in this context, the point is to mark the much lower status of the five planets in
comparison with the sun and moon.
³³ One would expect some mention of the other two planets and their similar affiliation
with the moon. Bekker proposed adding (at minimum) <selênêi de Arên kai Aphroditên>,
“and that Ares and Aphdrodite [are in agreement] with the moon”, which Mau and some
translators adopt. But maybe Sextus is getting tired of purveying all this nonsense and,
either through inattention or by deliberate decision, has omitted the moon and the other
two planets. I therefore omit Mau’s supplement.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
either by being in their own houses or exaltations or boundaries, or by

the fact that some are guarded by others, or by their looking upon one
another or being in a configuration with one another, or by being at
the centers.³⁴ [34] According to them the lion is the house of the sun,
the crab of the moon, the horned goat and water-carrier of Cronus, the
archer and fishes of Zeus, the ram and scorpion of Ares, the bull and
scales of Aphrodite, and the twins and virgin of Hermes. [35] And what
they call the exaltations of the stars, and likewise their humiliations,
are the places in which they rejoice or have little power; for they rejoice in
their exaltations and have little power in their humiliations. [36] For
example, the ram is the exaltation of the sun (more precisely, the
nineteenth degree of this), and its humiliation is the zodiac sign diamet-
rically opposite; of the moon, again, the exaltation is the bull and the
humiliation the one diametrically opposite; and of Cronus the exaltation
is the scales, of Zeus the crab, of Ares the horned goat, of Aphrodite the
fishes, and of Hermes the virgin. And the humiliations of these, as I said,
are the ones diametrically opposite the exaltations. [37] And they call the
boundaries of the stars in each zodiac sign the places within which each
star, from a certain degree to a certain degree in the series, has most
power; about this there is non-trivial disagreement, among them and in
terms of their tables. [38] And they say that the stars are guarded when
they are in the middle of other stars in conjunction with zodiac signs; for
example, if one star occupies the first degrees, another the final ones, and
another the ones in the middle of the same zodiac sign, the one in the
middle is said to be guarded by the ones occupying the degrees at the
edges. [39] And they are said to look upon one another and to be in
agreement with one another, as with those that appear in a triangular
or quadrangular aspect.³⁵ Stars that have the distance between them at
three zodiac signs are configured and look upon one another in a
triangular aspect; those that have it at two, in a quadrangular aspect.³⁶
³⁴ Cf. [12].
³⁵ i.e. are in relative positions so as to occupy the corners of an equilateral triangle, or a
square, within the circle of the zodiac; so, 120 degrees apart in the former case and
90 degrees apart in the latter. In astrological talk these are usually called “trine” and
“quartile” (or “square”) aspects respectively.
³⁶ i.e. stars that are positioned so that there are three signs in between them (meaning
that they are four signs, or 120 degrees, apart) are in the triangular aspect, and those with
two signs between them (so that they are three signs, or 90 degrees, apart) are in the
quadrangular aspect.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
[40] And it is thought that a maleficent one configured in triangular

aspect with a beneficent one is liable to do good and is much more
beneficent, a kindly one with a beneficent one is just that,³⁷ and so is a
maleficent one with a maleficent one; and conversely when they are in
quadrangular aspect. And they are called epicentric³⁸ when observed at
one of the centers, either at the ascendant or the mid-heaven or the
setting or the anti-mid-heaven.
f. Two different types of astrological predictions (41–2)

[41] But now that we have laid out these things in this rough outline
manner, we should first realize that the Chaldeans start from them when
they make their predictions of the results. And there is a difference
among them, since some are set up simpler, some more precise; the simpler
ones are those that come about in virtue of a zodiac sign or the simple
power of a star, for example that this star when it is in this zodiac sign
creates people of this kind, [42] while the more precise ones are those that
come about in virtue of a concurrence and, as they themselves say, a
combination of multiple things, such as “if this is in the ascendant, this is
in the mid-heaven, this is in the anti-mid-heaven, and the others are in this
situation, these things will happen”.
3. Some counter-arguments by others (43–8)

[43] The character of the Chaldean method, then, seems to be of this
kind; and with this now conveyed, it is easy on its basis to go on and get
comfortable with the counter-arguments that are raised. Now, some
people try to teach in a rather crude way³⁹ that the things on the earth
³⁷ i.e. it stays as it is.

³⁸ This word (epikentroi) could equally be translated “at the center”. The repetition is not
as jarring in the Greek as it would be in English because epikentroi is a single word and,
though composed of familiar elements (corresponding to “at” and “center”), a somewhat
specialized term.
³⁹ In Against the Logicians (M 8.337) this term (agroikoteron) is applied especially to the
Epicureans, and accusations of roughness or crudeness of doctrine are not uncommon in
polemic against Epicureans. On the other hand, as Spinelli ad loc. points out, the critique
that follows does not sound particularly Epicurean. A passage of Aulus Gellius summarizing
Favorinus (14.1.1–13) is also commonly cited in this context, but again the similarity is
quite limited. Spinelli examines the possibilities in some detail, and I share his doubts about
our ability to pin down the identity of these “some people”.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
are absolutely not in sympathy with those in the heavens; [44] for what
surrounds us⁴⁰ is not unified⁴¹ like the human body, so as to make
the things on the earth in sympathy with the things in the heavens in the
same way as the parts underneath are in sympathy with the head and
the head with the parts underneath, but there is a difference among them
and a lack of sympathy, as befits their not having one and the same
unification.⁴² [45] And others bring up the argument about fate; for
unless all things happen in accordance with fate, there is no Chaldean
method,⁴³ given that it maintains this.⁴⁴ And there are also no small
number who have argued the following: [46] since some of the things
that happen happen by necessity, some by chance, and some due to us,
the Chaldeans, if they are aiming at a prediction that is possible, will
definitely make their predictions either on outcomes that are by neces-
sity, or on those that are by chance, or on those due to us. [47] And if
they are on those by necessity, they are of no use in life; for what happens
by necessity it is not possible to avoid, but such a thing is bound to be the
outcome whether we want it or not. But the prediction would have been
useful on this condition: if it had got hold of the means for avoiding it.⁴⁵
And if on chance matters, they are promising something impossible;
for things that come about by chance are unstable, but of things that
are unstable and have different outcomes at different times it is not
possible to make one’s prediction stable. [48] It remains, then, that
⁴⁰ Cf. n. 7.
⁴¹ In view of the contrast that follows, it looks as if the point here is that the heavens
are not unified with the earth below in the same way as the parts of the body are unified,
rather than that the heavens considered by themselves lack the kind of unity found in the
human body.
⁴² i.e. their not being unified in the same way. It is not quite clear whether “them” just
above refers to the initially contrasted pair, the heavens and the human body (in which case
the point would be that they are not unified in the same way as each other), or to the things
in the heavens and the things in the earth (in which case the point would be that
these are not unified with one another in the same way as the parts of the body are). The
phrase “one and the same unification” seems to fit the first reading better, but the analogy
with the human body seems better suited to the second (cf. n. 41); also, the word order in
the Greek makes it easier to read “them” in the second way, since “the things in the heaven”
and “the things on the earth” are mentioned together immediately beforehand. Perhaps this
fuzziness is one reason why the critique is called “crude”.
⁴³ There is no word for “method” here (or in similar contexts at [50], [82], [87]); in
Greek one can simply say “the Chaldean” and leave the noun understood. In English this is
of course impossible; since methodos is invariably the noun when a noun does appear
alongside “the Chaldean”, I add “method”.
⁴⁴ Literally, “the one that maintains this”. ⁴⁵ i.e. avoiding the outcome.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
they make their predictions on the things that come about due to
ourselves. Which is again not feasible; for what lies in my power to be
the outcome or not, and what does not have a cause laid down before-
hand from the start, no one could predict. Therefore the Chaldeans are
aiming at a prediction that is not possible.
4. The Pyrrhonists’ own counter-arguments

(49–105)
a. Introduction: three possible sources of error in setting
the ascendant (49–55)
[49] Well, most people try to do away with the Chaldean method by
means of these kinds of potshots; but we, true to the close-up⁴⁶ style of
attack, once we have shaken its principles and, as it were, elements, will
have the ensemble of their remaining theories, too, along with these,
devoid of standing.
[50] So, the principle and, as it were, the foundation⁴⁷ of the Chaldean
method is the ascendant’s being set; for from this the rest of the centers
are grasped, and the declinations and after-risings, the triangles and
quadrangles and the configurations of the stars in accordance with
them, and from all these come the predictions. [51] Hence if the ascend-
ant is done away with, necessarily neither is the one in the mid-heaven or
the one setting or the one in the anti-mid-heaven known; but if these are
not apprehended, at the same time the whole Chaldean method disap-
pears. [52] And that the zodiac sign in the ascendant is not discovered by
them it is possible to teach in a variety of ways. For in order for this to be
apprehended, first the birth of the person undergoing the inquiry⁴⁸ must
⁴⁶ With Bury I read homothen for the mss. homoion, retained by Mau. Bury points to a
passage of Xenophon (Cyropaideia 8.8.22) where this “close-up”, hand-to-hand style of
fighting is contrasted with long-range skirmishes (akrobolismoi, the same word I have
translated “potshots”). The mss. reading would give the meaning “the similar style of
attack”, which would have to mean “an attack similar to my usual kind”; so Pellegrin
et al. and Spinelli. However, there is no reference to the topic in the surrounding context.
“Similar” invites the question “similar to what?”, and it is difficult to imagine that Sextus
would expect his readers to understand “similar to what I have done elsewhere”; if anything,
“similar” here would suggest he is going to use a method similar to the “potshot” method he
has just dismissed, which is clearly not the intent.
⁴⁷ Cf. 3.10 and accompanying note.
⁴⁸ i.e. the subject of the astrological investigation. Cf. n. 4.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
have been firmly apprehended, and second, the time-teller⁴⁹ that signifies
this must be unerring, and third, the rising of the zodiac sign must
have been seen precisely. [53] For at the time of delivery the rising of
the zodiac sign that is coming up in the heavens has been observed, the
Chaldeans having used the time-teller⁵⁰ as a servant for its observation;
and on the basis of its rising comes the configuration of the other stars,
which they call their disposition,⁵¹ and on the basis of the disposition
come the predictions. [54] But neither is it possible to grasp the birth of
the people undergoing the inquiry, as we will establish, nor is the time-
teller unerring, nor is the rising zodiac sign apprehended precisely. So the
Chaldean method doesn’t hold together. [55] Let us speak of the first
thing first.
b. Difficulties in establishing the time of birth (55–67)

The birth of the people who are to undergo the inquiry they grasp in a
rather old-fashioned way, either from the depositing of seed and con-
ception, or from the delivery. But they wouldn’t say⁵² that it is from the
depositing of seed and conception; for the precise time of this is not
apprehended. [56] It makes sense: for we are not in a position to say
whether the conception occurs at the same time as the insemination or
not. For it is possible that this happens at the speed of thought, like the
dough that is brought to super-hot ovens (for it bakes right away), [57]
but it is also possible that it happens after some time, since seeds that are
deposited in the earth also do not interact with the underlying soil by
putting down roots right away. And since there is a distance from the
mouth of the womb to its bottom, where the medical tribe says that
⁴⁹ i.e. the time-measuring device; cf. [28], also [68] with n. 57.
⁵⁰ With Blomqvist 1968, 85–6 I read tôi hôroskopiôi for the mss. tou hôroskpou, retained
by Mau and other editors. The latter would give the sense “For at the time of birth the rising
of the zodiac sign that is coming up in the heavens has been observed, the Chaldeans having
used it as a servant for their observation of the ascendant”. But, as Blomqvist points out, this
makes no sense. The ascendant is the sign rising at the time of birth (cf. [13]), not
something the sign’s rising could function as a “servant” in aid of observing. A time-
measuring device, on the other hand, could very well be instrumental in determining the
time of birth, which in turn is needed for determining which sign is rising simultaneously
with it. Besides, [53] seems to be an explanation for why the three factors mentioned in [52]
are necessary, and Blomqvist’s small change gives us a mention of the second factor (in the
correct order), which would otherwise be missing.
⁵¹ Which, as Jürß points out, is equivalent to the horoscope in the modern sense; cf. n. 19.
⁵² i.e. they could not with any plausibility say.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
conceptions occur, at all events it is natural that the seed deposited takes
some time to cover this distance. [58] But the Chaldeans, not knowing
the amount of this time in precise terms, will never apprehend the
conception.⁵³ For since the seed is at one time projected straight and
falls in one go on the very places in the womb that are naturally well
suited for conception, but at another time falls widely scattered, but is
able to be brought together into one place by the power inherent in the
womb, when the first happens, and when the second, is something
unknown, as well as how much time is spent on the former conception
and how much on the latter. [59] But if these things are not known,
the apprehension of the conception with precision is also gone. And if,
as some of the physicists have said, the seed is first cooked and pre-
transformed in the womb, and then proceeds to the vessels in it with
openings, then since they do not know the amount of time for this
transformation, they thereby will not know the moment of conception
either. [60] Then again, just as, when it comes to the other parts of the
body, women differ from one another in the activities of those parts, so
too they probably differ when it comes to the activity of the womb, some
conceiving more quickly and others more slowly. And it’s no surprise,
when even compared with themselves, they are observed to conceive
easily at one time and at another not at all. [61] And since this is so,
saying with precision when the deposited seed has taken hold, so that the
Chaldeans may set the ascendant of the birth from this time, is some-
thing impossible. [62] Then again, it is not possible to say that the time of
conception is of a nature to be grasped by certain signs, for example,
from the drying up of the vaginal cavity after intercourse, and, if it turns
out this way, the closing of the mouth of the womb, and the halting of the
menstrual flow, and cravings⁵⁴ coming on. [63] For, first, these signs are
also common to women who have not conceived; and then, even if they
were not shared, they show a conception that has already occurred—in
broad terms, quite a few days have gone by; they don’t show precisely one
that is recent and lies within hour-long time-periods.⁵⁵ [64] But for
⁵³ i.e. will never apprehend precisely when it occurs.

⁵⁴ Kissa, defined by LSJ as “ ‘longing’ of pregnant women, craving for strange food”; it
does not occur elsewhere in Sextus, but other medical writers are aware of the phenomenon.
For a description see Soranus, Gynecology 1.48.
⁵⁵ i.e. where the time can be ascertained in terms of hours rather than days.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
distinguishing the different lives, the Chaldeans have need not of the
rough, broad time of the conception, but of the precise time.
So, it is clear from this that it is not possible for the ascendant to be set
from conception. [65] Then again, nor can it be done from delivery. For,
first, it is a matter of impasse when delivery should be said to be—
whether it is when the newborn begins to stick out into the cold air, or
when it has come out completely, or when it has been put down on the
ground. [66] But then, not even in each of these cases is it possible to
determine the precise time of the delivery; for because of the excitement
of the soul and because of the adaptedness of the body and the predis-
position of the genital regions and because of the experience of the
midwife and endless other factors, the time at which the newborn sticks
out after the waters have broken,⁵⁶ or gets completely out, or is put down
on the ground, is not the same, but is different in different cases. [67]
And the Chaldeans, being again unable to measure it definitely and
precisely, will fall short of determining as needed the hour of the delivery.
c. Difficulties in synchronizing time of birth
and observation of the sky (67–72)
From this, then, it is obvious that as far as the times of delivery are
concerned, the Chaldeans claim to know the ascendant, but do not know
it; [68] that their time-teller is not without error either can be figured out
in a similar way.⁵⁷ For when they say that the person sitting beside the
woman in labor signifies the delivery by a gong to the Chaldean watching
the stars on the ridge, and he then, looking at the heavens, notes
down the rising zodiac sign, we will first indicate to them that since the
delivery turns out to be indeterminate, as we established a little earlier,
nor is it easy to signify this with the gong.⁵⁸ [69] But then, let’s say the
delivery does turn out to be apprehensible; that doesn’t mean it is
possible to note this down⁵⁹ at the precise time. For what happens is
⁵⁶ Literally, “after the membranes [i.e. the amniotic sac] have broken”.
⁵⁷ “Time-tellers” were originally introduced in contrast to the method of marking the
time of birth by a gong [28]; the former were said to be used by day and the latter by night.
In what follows, however, Sextus treats the gong method as itself a kind of “time-teller” and
criticizes its accuracy.
⁵⁸ With Blomqvist 1968, 86 I retain the mss. reading tôi, instead of altering to to, as Mau
does following Bekker.
⁵⁹ Other translators all seem to assume this word refers to the activity of the
person striking the gong, and have translated it by “signal”, “transmit”, and the like. But
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
that the sound of the gong takes quite some time to move to the ridge—it
can be perceptibly divided into parts.⁶⁰ A proof is the thing observed
with people cutting trees in the mountains; for it is after a good while
from the axe being brought down that the sound of the blow is heard,
which fits with its taking quite some time to reach the person listening.
[70] And so for this reason it is not possible for the Chaldeans to grasp
precisely the time of the rising zodiac sign—that is, the one precisely
in the ascendant. Then again, not only does quite some time already go
by after the delivery, in which the sound gets from the person sitting
beside the woman in labor giving birth to the one watching the stars; but
also, in the time this person is looking up and, casting his eyes around, is
examining in which of the zodiac signs the moon is, and each of the other
stars, the disposition of the stars has already become different (since the
motion of the cosmos revolves at an indescribable⁶¹ speed) before by
observation he can attach the things seen in the heavens to the hour of
the one just born. [71] Besides, this kind of observation by the Chaldeans
can perhaps make progress at night, when the things in the zodiac circle
are seen and the configurations of the stars are readily apparent. Since,
then, some people are also born by day, when it is not possible to note
down any of the aforementioned things, but only the motions of the
sun, if that, it has to be said that the method of the Chaldeans is possible
in some cases and in others impossible. [72] But look: maybe even at
night they are not in a position to make their observations of things in
the heavens entirely without error; for often nights are cloudy and
misty, and we should be happy, supposing every factor of this kind is
parasêmeiousthai in [28] and episêmeiousthai in [68] both refer to the activity of the
astrologer on the ridge; I have translated both by “noted down”, although in both cases it
is possible that “noted” or “observed” in a more general sense is what is meant. The Greek
word here is either parepisêmeiousthai or parasêmeiousthai (the mss. are divided; Mau
chooses the former, although this would apparently be a unique occurrence—it does not
appear in LSJ). Either way, one would expect a meaning similar to these other terms, one of
which is in close proximity, and I translate accordingly. The fact that Sextus goes on
immediately to talk about the time taken by the sound of the gong is quite consistent
with this, since that is obviously the reason why the astrologer cannot get an accurate note of
the state of the heavens at the time of birth. (The text speaks literally of noting down the
birth; but for the astrologer, what that amounts to is noting down the ascendant that is
simultaneous with the birth.)
⁶⁰ With Bury and Spinelli I delete kai en suchnôi after en pleioni chronôi.
⁶¹ With Bekker and Spinelli I read alektôi, which appears in most of the mss.; Mau reads
alêktôi, “unceasing”.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
eliminated, to find what is secure⁶² in the discipline—but when there

is some hindrance to the precise apprehension of the things in the
heavens, certainly not.⁶³
d. Difficulties in the observations themselves (73–85)

[73] Well, having deprived the Chaldeans’ time-teller of standing, and
concisely established that the time of birth is not grasped⁶⁴ by them, let
us go to the remaining part of what was promised.⁶⁵ It remained to talk
about the rising in the zodiac circle, while staying away from the refuta-
tions we previously set out. [74] So, we say that the degrees of the zodiac
signs are difficult to distinguish from one another, or rather, are impos-
sible to define precisely; but it is likely that an already risen zodiac sign
will seem not yet to have appeared above the horizon, and conversely,
one that has not yet appeared above the horizon will seem to have
already risen. [75] Nor can the aforementioned water-clock approach⁶⁶
be of any help to the Chaldeans, since, considering both the flowing
water and the mixture of the air, the flow and the times parallel to the
flow are not in synch.⁶⁷ For the motion of the water is probably different
at the beginning, when it flows clear, and later, when it is muddy and
flows with more difficulty; [76] while it is plausible that the mixture of
the air, when it is misty and denser, gets in the way of the outflow,
obstructing it in some way, but when it is translucent and of fine parts, it
is more of a help. [77] And the jar itself will not have the flow proceed in
⁶² Or perhaps “something secure”, reading ti instead of to, which is present in several

mss. and accepted by Jürß.
⁶³ As Spinelli ad loc. suggests, Sextus’ conclusion here is considerably less hard-hitting
than one would expect. He seems to be conceding that at least sometimes—namely, when
there is a clear sky at night—astrology might actually work. Up to the end of [70] the thrust
of his argument was that the project was hopeless in any conditions, because of the many
insuperable obstacles to establishing clear and accurate correlations between birth and
ascendant zodiac sign. And this tone, which is much more typical of his usual approach,
resumes immediately afterwards at [73].
⁶⁴ Or “not to be grasped”. This sort of ambiguity is standard with adjectives ending in the
suffix -tos. In general I avoid attributing modal claims to Sextus unless the evidence clearly
supports it, because they tend to pose problems of consistency with his skeptical outlook;
their non-modal counterparts are easier to construe as reports of experience, which is what
Sextus tells us he is giving throughout his writings (PH 1.4).
⁶⁵ Cf. [52]–[54]. ⁶⁶ Cf. [24]–[25].
⁶⁷ A slightly obscure, but perhaps helpfully concise, way of saying that equal amounts of
water may take unequal amounts of time to flow, or equal amounts of time may have
unequal amounts of water flowing in them.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
the same way when it is filled up and when it is half empty or coming
towards being empty; it will be quicker at one time, slower at another,
and in the middle at another, while the motion of the heavens proceeds
at an equal speed all the time. [78] But what is most important of all is
that each of the zodiac signs is not a continuous body, nor is it attached,
as if with fastenings, to the one before it and the one after it, with no
interval falling between them, but it consists of scattered stars that
have certain spaces in-between and gaps, some in the middle and others
at the limits. [79] Hence at all events, since the zodiac signs in the circle
are circumscribed by countable portions, error among those observing
from the earth is bound to occur; it will be beyond them whether the gap
they are dealing with is the limit of the preceding zodiac sign or the
beginning of the one that comes after it. [80] And the peaks on which
the sightings of the stars occur do not always remain the same, but as the
world alters and changes in line with fate, either by floods from heavy
rain or by earthquakes or by some other happenings⁶⁸ like this, they are
disrupted, so that given the change in them, the observations of the stars
come to be not the same; what happens is that there is one observation by
those looking from up high and a different one by those looking from the
lowlands, and what was seen by the former was absolutely not observed
by the others.⁶⁹ [81] And at this point one might also take into account
the variation in the senses;⁷⁰ for some have sharper sight than others, and
in the same way as what is not yet seen by us, because of how distant it is,
⁶⁸ Mau here prints kathêmasin. With the exception of Pellegrin et al., all other versions
of the Greek text that I have seen print pathêmasin, including Spinelli, who explicitly
claims to be following Mau’s text except where indicated. No editor records any dis-
agreement among or problem with the mss. at this point. And to judge from LSJ,
kathêma is not an actual Greek word, except as the variant spelling of a word meaning
“necklace” or “collar”. I can only conclude that kathêmasin is a misprint (one that
appears to have escaped the notice of the otherwise eagle-eyed Giusta 1962), and
I translate pathêmasin.
⁶⁹ Here Sextus seems to confuse two different reasons why observations of the stars may
vary: first, changes to the earth’s surface brought about by various natural disasters, and
second, differences in viewing positions. The point about the view from a mountaintop
being different from the view from sea level has nothing to do with changes due to
earthquakes etc., even though it is presented as further explanation of the differences caused
by those changes. This looks like a case of incomplete editing.
⁷⁰ i.e. as it turns out, the differences in the visual acuity of different species, and not, as
this phrase by itself might suggest, differences among the five senses (such as Sextus
explores in the third of his Ten Modes (PH 1.91–9); the point here is more reminiscent
of material in the first Mode, on the differences between animals (PH 1.40–78)).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
eagles and hawks apprehend as very big because of their extreme sharp-
sightedness, so it is plausible that, as a result of the great distance, the
zodiac sign that is already rising and is in the ascendant should be
thought of by the Chaldean, who is not sharp-sighted, as not yet having
appeared above the horizon.⁷¹ [82] And to this should be added, as the
plainest refutation of the Chaldean method, the difference in the air
around the horizon; for since it is made of dense parts, it is likely that in
virtue of the refraction of the image, the zodiac sign that is still situated
below the earth should seem to be already above the earth—which is
somewhat like what happens in the case of the sun’s rays that are bent
back in water; for while not seeing the sun itself we often think of this as
the sun.⁷² [83] And what is most essential of all, if each twelfth part of the
zodiac appeared for the same time to everyone in the inhabited world
who is observing the things in the heavens, and was observed along the
same straight line, perhaps the Chaldean tribe would have been able to
grasp solidly the zodiac sign rising at the horizon. [84] But in fact, since
it does not appear to everyone for the same time, but more quickly to
some and more slowly to others, and sideways to some and straight up
to others, it follows that the same zodiac sign does not appear to be in the
ascendant for everyone, but the one that seems to some people to have
already risen is for others still under the earth, and what appears to some
people in the declination of the zodiac sign in the ascendant is observed
by others as in the ascendant. [85] And that this is how it is, is clear from
the fact that the fixed stars, too, like Arcturus and the Dog Star,⁷³ do not
appear at the same time to those living in every latitude, but to different
people at different times.
⁷¹ The mss. include the words kai kata sugkrisin ambluôpounti, “and is by comparison
dim-sighted”, at the end of the sentence. Mau marks these words as corrupt, or perhaps as an
alternative to tôi mê oxuôpounti, “who is not sharp-sighted”, but it is possible they should be
included. In that case, however, tôi mê oxuôpounti would need to be either eliminated, or else
moved later in the sentence, adjacent to these final words (as suggested by Giusta 1962, 432
and accepted by Spinelli); the word order is impossible as it stands. So there is certainly
something wrong with the text; however, none of this affects Sextus’ basic point.
⁷² I follow Jürß (and Spinelli’s note, although his translation does not reflect this) in
interpreting this sentence as talking about refraction rather than reflection; the bending of
light may make something visible that is still below the horizon. Posidonius (as reported by
Strabo, 3.1.5) also appealed to refraction due to vapors at the horizon, though his explan-
andum is not the same; he uses it to explain why the sun at its setting appears larger than
it really is.
⁷³ i.e. Sirius.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
e. A further difficulty: most birth times are recorded

in a rough-and-ready, inexpert manner (85–7)
That it is not possible, then, to grasp precisely the zodiac sign in the
ascendant, and nor, for this reason, any of the other centers, from which
the Chaldeans’ predictions come about, we have adequately established.
[86] But for good measure it should be said that even if the precise time
of the rising of these signs was apprehended, this much is clear: none of
the regular people who turn to the Chaldeans does so having observed
the precise time in his own case; for the matter involves a lot of expertise,
as we showed earlier,⁷⁴ and reveals itself as more than a regular person
could manage.⁷⁵ [87] Since, then, the Chaldean did not observe the
precise time of birth in the case of this regular person but hears it from
him, and this regular person, in part because of inexperience and in part
because of not taking the matter all that seriously, again does not know
the precise time, the upshot is that not a single firm prediction accrues to
human beings from the Chaldean method, but error and trickery.
f. Roughly equivalent birth times are obviously

of no predictive value (88–9)
[88] But if they beat a retreat and say that it is not the precise time that is
grasped, but the rough, broad time, they will be virtually refuted by the
results themselves; for people who were born at the same time roughly
speaking did not live the same life, but some, for instance, were kings
and others grew old in shackles. [89] At any rate, no one was equal to
Alexander of Macedon, though many in the inhabited world were born
together with him—nor to Plato the philosopher. So that if the Chaldean
is inquiring into the broad time of birth, he will not be able to affirm
solidly that the person born at the same time⁷⁶ will have good fortune, for
⁷⁴ Editors and translators routinely refer to [27]–[28], but the back-reference seems to
me much more general.
⁷⁵ With some hesitation I omit ho logos before hupephainen, included by Mau on the
basis of one manuscript. If we include it, the translation will be something like “the
reasoning shows itself as more than” etc. (Spinelli has “lo spiegazione”).
⁷⁶ Bury, followed by Blomqvist 1968, 86–7 and Spinelli, alter ton auton chronon to
touton ton chronon, “at this time”. It is true that this would be superior wording—the
repetition of “at the same time” is a little awkward; and given the occurrence of “at the
same time” in the next line, a scribal error would be easy to understand. However, it is also
possible that this minor infelicity of style and thought is due to Sextus himself, and with that
idea I prefer to follow Mau and leave the text as it is.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
many born at the same time as this person had bad fortune, or, con-
versely, that this person will be in trouble; for no small number of those
who had the same disposition⁷⁷ grew old in excellent circumstances.
g. Conversely, different birth times do not spare people

from similar fates (90–3)
[90] Then again, if the argument is turned around in relation to the
attack just mentioned,⁷⁸ it too appears to be no mean refutation of the
Chaldeans. For if those who have the same disposition at birth encounter
the same results in life, those who have different births definitely come
out differently. [91] Which is false; for we see many people who differ in
age, in the shapes of their bodies, and in a great many other individual
characteristics, encountering a similar end, when they either are killed in
war or caught in the collapse of buildings or drowned in shipwrecks; and
it is worth raising some doubts⁷⁹ about how, if they were alive, the
Chaldean would have predicted the termination of their lives to come.
[92] For if the person who was born in the arrow of the archer⁸⁰ will
be slaughtered, according to mathematical⁸¹ reasoning, how come all
the millions of barbarians fighting against the Greeks at Marathon were
slaughtered all at once? For the ascendant was not the same for all of
them. And again, if the person born in the pitcher of the water-carrier
will be shipwrecked, how come the Greeks on their way back from Troy
⁷⁷ i.e. astrological disposition; cf. [53].

⁷⁸ I take “the attack just mentioned” to be Sextus’ own argument to the effect that people
born at the same time (in the loose sense to which the astrologers are imagined as having
retreated) have different sorts of lives. The argument to follow is then a “turning around”
(or in logical terms, a conversion) of this; instead of “same births, different lives”, we have
“same lives, different births”. Here I follow Blomqvist 1971, 19–20. Most translators
(Pellegrin et al. is an exception) instead take “the attack just mentioned” to refer to the
astrologers’ counter-argument at the start of [88]; in this case the meaning would be “the
argument directed against the attack just mentioned also appears” etc. But, first, epicheirêsis,
“attack” (literally, “putting one’s hands on” something), is much more easily understood as
referring to something in Sextus’ own critique than to the astrologers’ defense of their
position; cf. [49] for another use of the term to introduce his own critical activity. Second,
he has already been arguing against the astrologers’ fall-back position in [88] and [89], and
“it too” (kai) draws attention to this; what is to follow is another refutation of the
astrologers—not the start of the refutation, as this other translation would imply.
⁷⁹ Literally, raising aporiai, which I have elsewhere translated “impasses”; “doubts” may
be too weak.
⁸⁰ i.e. when this is the ascendant. ⁸¹ Cf. [1]–[2].
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
drowned together around the Hollows of Euboea?⁸² [93] For there is no

way all of them, greatly differing as they did from one another, had been
born in the pitcher of the water-carrier. Then again, it is not possible to
say that it is often because of one person, who was fated to perish at sea,
that everyone in the ship was killed as well; for why does this person’s
fate win out over those of everyone, instead of all of them being saved
because of the one person who is fated to die on land?
h. Challenge to extend astrology to animals, leading back

to the problem raised in section (f) (94–5)
[94] And someone else will raise an impasse about the non-rational
animals. For if results⁸³ in life are of a nature to come forth thanks to
the configurations of the stars, then when a donkey and a human being
are born together in this same portion of the zodiac sign, the same
outcome ought to follow in both their lives—not the human being often
being much admired by the people after a distinguished political career,
and the donkey always carrying loads or being led off to the mill-houses.
[95] So it is not reasonable that life is arranged in relation to the motions of
the stars; or if it is reasonable, it is definitely not apprehended by us.
i. Problems in correlating personality and other traits

with zodiac signs (95–102)
Proceeding from the same ability,⁸⁴ we will also embarrass them when
they want to relate the shapes and characters of human beings with the
⁸² Euboea is the long island off the coast of Attica. The wreck off Euboea of Greek ships
returning from Troy is mentioned in Euripides’ Helen (1126ff.), though not in Homer. (But
many other epic poems about the Trojan War existed, including one called Nostoi
(Returns), about how the Greeks did or did not make it home.) The “Hollows” of Euboea
are mentioned by Herodotus (8.13–14) as the place where some Persian ships were wrecked
in the run-up to the battle of Artemisium (480 BCE, in which the Persians ultimately
defeated the Greeks). The exact location of these “Hollows” (and what “Hollows” means
in this context) seems to be a matter of some dispute. See Richards 1930, and two websites,
each with Google maps but identifying different locations: the article “Artemisium (480
BCE)” on the ancient history website Livius.org, at <http://www.livius.org/articles/battle/
artemisium/>, and a report in Portal to the Past, the digital archive of the Canadian Institute
in Greece’s archaeological projects and research, at <http://www.portal.cig-icg.gr/node/
426> (viewed July 11, 2016).
⁸³ Cf. [12].
⁸⁴ At PH 1.8, Sextus calls skepticism itself an “ability” (dunamis)—specifically, an ability
to generate opposing considerations on any given topic.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
images of the zodiac signs, such as when they say that the person born in
the lion will be courageous, and the one born in the virgin will be
straight-haired, with blue-gray eyes, fair-skinned, childless, and modest.
[96] These and things like them are worthy of laughter rather than of
being taken seriously. For, first, if it is because the lion is brave and
masculine-looking that they say the person born in it turns out courage-
ous, how come they think the bull, which is comparable to it, is a female
animal? [97] And then, it is foolish to think that the lion in the heavens, a
most beautiful zodiac sign, corresponds with the one on earth; for it is
likely that the ancients put such names on them purely in virtue of the
resemblance in their outlines—perhaps not even that, but for the sake of
clear signage in teaching. [98] For what do the seven stars, so far apart
from one another, have in common with a bear? Or the five with a
dragon’s head—the ones about which Aratus says
But two occupy the temples, two the eyes, and one underneath
Occupies the extremity of the terrible monster’s jaw.⁸⁵
[99] And anyway, as we said above, those born in this zodiac sign⁸⁶ do
not have the same shapes or similar characters, unless they are going to
say that the degrees into which each zodiac sign is divided and the
minutes are capable of producing such a difference. Which is again
impossible; for we showed that precision in the very times of delivery
and in spotting the ascendant is not achievable. [100] It’s one of these
two: either it is because the zodiac sign is called lion that the person born
in it also becomes courageous, or it is because, when the air under the
lion in the heavens changes, dispositions of this kind take shape in the
human who is being born. But it is not plausible that he becomes
courageous because of the zodiac sign in the ascendant being called
lion; for by this argument people born or raised at the same time as the
lion on earth would also have to be courageous in so far as the animal
with which they were raised is called a lion. [101] But if it is because of
the change in the air, what difference does this make to the life?⁸⁷ For
⁸⁵ Phainomena, 56–7. This poem is mostly based on a treatise of the same name by the
mathematician and astronomer Eudoxus of Cnidus on the constellations (cf. [1]–[2] and
accompanying note).
⁸⁶ Or perhaps “the same zodiac sign”, following Bekker’s conjecture tôi autôi zôdiôi for
the mss. toutôi tôi zôdiôi, which Mau retains.
⁸⁷ More literally, “what does this bring to the difference in the life?”.
BOOK : AGAINST THE ASTROLOGERS 
while some kind of mixture in the air perhaps contributes to the one
being born becoming strong in body and beast-like in character, the air
does not appear to collaborate at all in the one being born coming to owe
debts or to be a king or to be imprisoned or to have a shortage of children
or brothers. [102] And again, if the person who has the virgin in the
ascendant is straight-haired, with blue-gray eyes and fair-skinned, it will
have to be that no one in Ethiopia has the virgin in the ascendant, since
otherwise⁸⁸ they will be allowing that there is an Ethiopian who is white,
with blue-gray eyes and straight-haired—which is most absurd of all.
j. A reliable astrology would require observation over

impossibly long time-periods (103–5)
[103] And in general, since they say that the stars do not show them the
differences in human lives, but that they themselves have observed these
together with the positions of the stars, I say that if a firm prediction is
going to come about, the same position of the stars has to have been
observed not once together with some one person’s life, but a second
time with a second person’s and a third time with a third, so that from
the fact that the coming forth of the results⁸⁹ is consistent in all cases we
may learn that when the stars have taken on such-and-such a configur-
ation, this will definitely be the outcome; [104] and in the same way as in
medicine we have observed that the wounding of the heart is a cause
of death⁹⁰ after observing in connection with it not only the death of
Dion, but also of Theon and Socrates and many others,⁹¹ so too in
⁸⁸ Mau follows Harder in adding <mêdamôs> after Aithiopa, giving the sense “since they
will concede that an Ethiopian is in no way white, with blue-gray eyes and straight-haired”.
But Mau himself is not entirely committed to this; in his app. crit. he suggests that one could
also understand allôs, “otherwise”, after epei, “since”, and leave the text unchanged. With
Pellegrin et al., I follow this suggestion; with <mêdamôs> added, it is hard to understand the
point of the closing “which is most absurd of all”. Spinelli actually adds <allôs> to the text at
this point, but this is unnecessary; this pattern of thought, where a result uncomfortable for
the opponent is laid out and one is supposed to understand that this applies if we do not
adopt some proposal just mentioned, is not uncommon in Sextus.
⁸⁹ Cf. [12].
⁹⁰ With Pellegrin et al. and Spinelli I reject the reading hê tês kardias peripsuxis esti
thanatos (“the chilling of the heart is death”), preferred by Mau and present in one pair of
related mss., in favor of the reading of the other mss., hê tês kardias trôsis aition esti
thanatou.
⁹¹ Dion and Theon are arbitrary names like our John Doe; and in Sextus the name
Socrates refers much more often, as here, to an arbitrary person in examples than to the
actual historical philosopher (cf. 3.40, 94, 4.17).
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
“mathematics”⁹² if it is trustworthy that this configuration of stars is

revelatory of such-and-such a life, it definitely would have been observed
not once in a single case but often in many cases. [105] Since, then, the
same configuration of stars, as they say, is perceived at long intervals of
time, when the return of the Great Year occurs after nine thousand nine
hundred and seventy-seven years, human observation will not manage to
cover such great periods in the case of one birth,⁹³ and this not once but
often, when either the perishing of the world, as some have said, inter-
rupts it, or at all events partial change annihilates the continuity of the
historical tradition.
5. Transition to Against the Musicians (106)

[106] This is the extent of the things that can be said effectively⁹⁴ against
the Chaldeans. After this, again making a new start, we will also deliver
the counter-argument against the musicians, which is brief.
⁹² Cf. [1] and accompanying note.

⁹³ One can see how the introduction of the Great Year, in conjunction with the preced-
ing argument, serves Sextus’ purpose: we are supposed to observe multiple cases of
correlation between a certain position of the stars and a certain outcome in the lives of
those born at that time, but this would require, impossibly, that we had access to observa-
tions almost 10,000 years apart. But it is not clear what is meant by saying that such time-
spans are required “in the case of one birth”. In view of the following words “and this not
once but often”, which recall the end of the previous sentence, it looks as if the point is that
the astrological significance of one birth cannot be established without comparing it with
numerous other births one or more Great Years apart; but this is hardly a perspicuous way
of making that point.
⁹⁴ Cf. 1.7 and accompanying note (n. 3).
Book 6
Against the Musicians
1. Introduction: specification of what is

to be attacked and in what ways (1–6)
[1] Music is spoken of in three ways: in one way it is a science occupied
with melodies and notes and creating rhythms and related matters, as
we say that Aristoxenus son of Spintharus is a musician;¹ in another it is
the one² having to do with the practice³ of playing instruments, as when
we call those who use auloi⁴ and harps musicians and female harpists
musicians.⁵ Well, music is correctly spoken of by most people in these
significations;⁶ [2] but we sometimes tend to call success in some enter-
prise more loosely by the same name. At any rate, we speak in this way of
some work as “music”, even if it belongs under painting, and the painter
¹ Or as we might say, musicologist. But Sextus is illustrating alternative usages of the

same word, and so I keep “musician”, despite its slight oddity in this context.
² i.e. the science. But it is surprising to find Sextus referring to the playing of musical
instruments, as opposed to musical theory, as a science. So perhaps empeirian should be
altered to empeiria (see n. 3), giving the sense “in another it is the practice of playing
instruments”, and bringing empeiria into contrast with epistêmê instead of making it a
branch of it.
³ With some hesitation I retain the mss. empeirian, instead of altering to empeiria, as
does Mau following a suggestion of Bekker; see n. 2.
⁴ The aulos was a wind instrument with a reed—generally, if perhaps not always, a
double reed. Hence the usual translation “flute” is quite misleading; the production of
sound was much more like that of an oboe. However, a single player typically played two of
them, one with each hand, which one could certainly not do with the oboe. Hence I leave
the word in Greek; there is no modern equivalent. See West 1992, 81–107 for further details.
⁵ The point of this distinction is not quite clear. But the word for “musicians” (literally
the adjective “musical” with “persons” understood) varies by gender, so it appears as
mousikous the first time, mousikas the second time; perhaps this is all Sextus means by
the distinction.
⁶ With Bury, following a conjecture of Bekker, I read kata tauta ta sêmainomena for the
mss. kat’auta ta sêmainomena (“in the significations themselves”). Bekker’s conjecture
adding <tois> before pollois may also be correct.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
who has been successful in this as inspired by the Muses.⁷ [3] So, though
music is conceived in this many ways, the current task is to create our
counter-argument not, for god’s sake, against any other than the one
conceived according to the first signification; for this seems to stand as
the most perfected, compared with the other sorts of music. [4] And the
form of the counter-argument, as in the case of grammar,⁸ is twofold.
Some⁹ have attempted to teach rather dogmatically that music is not a
discipline necessary for happiness, but is on the contrary harmful, and to
show this by criticizing the things said by musicians and by holding their
foremost arguments to be worthy of pulling down; [5] but others,
keeping their distance, more in the manner of impasse,¹⁰ from all
counter-argument of this kind, thought that in the tossing around of
the principal hypotheses of the musicians, the whole of music was also
done away with. [6] Hence, with a view towards not seeming to teach any
less than we owe, we will explore in somewhat broad terms the character
of each doctrine or subject,¹¹ neither veering off into long expositions on
⁷ This sentence contains two uses of a verb that can sometimes have a reference to music
in the usual sense, but normally means more generally “have the Muses in one”, and so “be
accomplished” in some art within the traditional province of the Muses (of which music in
the usual sense is only one). Etymologically this word is of course related to mousikê,
“music”, since that word too derives from “Muse”. In English the word “music” can be used
in various metaphorical ways (e.g. “this is music to my ears”), and I have exploited this—
with some strain, perhaps—in the first case (“we speak of some work as ‘music’ ”). In the
second case I have stuck more closely to the literal sense; this means giving up on the direct
connection with music, but then, as I have explained, the connection is not especially close
even in the Greek.
⁸ This appears to be a back-reference to the contrast between the Epicureans and
Pyrrhonists in the introduction to the whole work (1.1–7). This of course occurs in the
same book where grammar is discussed, but it applies to the treatment of all six subjects, not
just grammar.
⁹ Sextus seems to have in mind primarily the Epicureans; he mentions them by name at
[19] and [27], and as we shall see, there are many parallels with the surviving fragments of
the Epicurean Philodemus’ On Music. On the significance of the Philodemus parallels, see
D. Delattre 2006 and Bett 2013, section 3 (which draws on the fundamental work of
Delattre 2007). However, as both Pellegrin et al. and Davidson Greaves point out ad loc.,
the Cynics also fit Sextus’ description; see Diogenes Laertius 6.73, 104.
¹⁰ Aporêtikôteron—that is, presumably, in more skeptical fashion; Sextus frequently
describes himself as producing impasse (aporia) on some topic, and aporêtikos, “liable to
bring impasse”, is given as one of the alternative names for the skeptics at PH 1.7.
¹¹ I retain the mss. reading pragmatos, rather than altering to aporêmatos, “impasse”,
as does Mau following Theiler. Sextus’ aim in providing a disjunction here is clearly to
pin the label “doctrine” (dogma) only on the “rather dogmatic” first group and to indicate
that the second group, with whom he identifies more closely, is not advancing doctrines.
But the neutral pragmatos, “subject”, is quite adequate for this purpose; cf. PH 1.210 for a
case where a pragma is skeptically acceptable but a dogma is not.
BOOK : AGAINST THE MUSICIANS 
side issues, nor, on the more essential ones, falling short with respect to
laying out the important points, but making our instruction as moderate
and measured as possible.
2. Whether music has good effects

on character and mood (7–37)
a. Arguments for an affirmative answer (7–18)
[7] First in order, let’s start with the typical blather of most people
concerning music.¹² If, they say, we approve of philosophy for imparting
self-control¹³ to human life and suppressing the passions of the soul, we
approve of music much more, because instead of ordering us around
rather forcefully, it uses a certain enchanting persuasiveness to achieve
the same results as philosophy. [8] At any rate Pythagoras, observing
once that young people in a Bacchic frenzy¹⁴ from drink were no
different from the insane, advised the aulos-player who was with them
at the party to play them the libation tune;¹⁵ and when he had done what
he was told, they changed into self-controlled people so suddenly, it was
as if they had been sober from the start. [9] And the Spartans, leaders of
Greece and loudly celebrated for their bravery, always went to war with
music in command of them.¹⁶ And those who put Solon’s advice into
effect got into battle order to the sound of the aulos and lyre, making
their movement to arms rhythmic. [10] Then again, just as music
imparts self-control to those out of their senses, and propels the more
cowardly into bravery, so too it calms down those who are on fire with
anger. At any rate we see how even Achilles, depicted by the poet as
enraged, is caught by the elders who had been dispatched to him
¹² What follows ([7]–[18]) is a prelude to the project just announced; Sextus sketches
the standard case in favor of music before proceeding to his two-pronged “counter-
argument”. The standard case raises considerations addressed by the first, “dogmatic”
prong rather than by the second, “aporetic” one; [19]–[28] in particular responds to it
more or less point by point.
¹³ Sôphrosunê, one of the cardinal virtues in ancient Greek thought, often rendered
“moderation” or “temperance”; it has to do especially with keeping the bodily appetites
under control (including sexual appetites, as illustrated in [11]–[12]).
¹⁴ One can think of numerous comparable modern terms; but I translate the Greek
word literally.
¹⁵ Slow, solemn music appropriate for religious offerings.
¹⁶ Compare, e.g., [Plutarch], On Music 1140C.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Cheering his heart with a lyre—clear-toned,

Beautiful and well-wrought, with a silver bridge upon it.
He took it from the booty after sacking the city of Eetion.
With it he was cheering his spirit,¹⁷
like someone who knows clearly that music was the occupation most able
to get him over the state he was in. [11] Then again, it was habitual for
the other heroes, too, if they ever left home and set out on a long voyage,
to leave behind the musicians as the most trustworthy guards of their
wives to keep them under control.¹⁸ Clytemnestra did in fact have a
singer with her, to whom Agamemnon had given a lot of orders about
her self-control. [12] But Aegisthus stuck at nothing, and when it came to
this singer, right away
Brought him to a deserted island
And left him to become spoil and prey for the birds;¹⁹
and then, in this way taking Clytemnestra unguarded, seduced her,

having urged her on to take over Agamemnon’s rule for herself. [13]
And those who have had great ability in philosophy, like Plato, say that
the wise person is like the musician, having a soul that has been brought
into harmony.²⁰ This is why even Socrates, when already deep into old
age, was not ashamed to go to Lampon the lyre-player, and to the person
who gave him a hard time about this, he said that it is better to be
criticized as a late-learner than a non-learner.²¹ [14] However, they
say that one should not use the damnable and spineless music of
¹⁷ Iliad 9.186–9. The same passage is quoted in connection with Achilles mastering his
anger at [Plutarch] On Music 1145E.
¹⁸ That is, making sure they exercised (at least in their actions) the virtue of self-control;
cf. n. 13.
¹⁹ Odyssey 3.270–1.
²⁰ The general idea of the good soul as harmonious can be found in many passages of
Plato, although the musical analogy is rarely explicit. In the Republic the virtue of self-
control (cf. n. 13) is described as a harmony of the three parts (e.g. 430e), as is the virtue of
justice (443d–e).
²¹ On Socrates learning music at an advanced age, see Plato, Euthydemus 272b–c,
Menexenus 236a; but his music teacher is named in both places as Connus son of
Metrobius. However, the latter passage does also mention (though not as Socrates’ teacher)
the musician Lampros, and Sextus’ “Lampon” (otherwise unknown) is perhaps a confusion
for Lampros, as conjectured by Wallace 2015, 130; for more on Lampros, see Wallace 2015,
167. The word “late-learner” also appears in Philodemus, On Music (col. 139, 39–40
Delattre 2007); the text is very fragmentary at this point, but possibly the same anecdote
appeared here.
BOOK : AGAINST THE MUSICIANS 
today as a basis for tearing apart the ancient kind, when the Athenians,
who exercised a lot of forethought over self-control, and grasped the
seriousness of music, handed it down to their descendants as a most
necessary discipline. [15] And a witness of this is the poet of Old
Comedy,²² who said
So I’ll speak from the start of the life which I have provided for mortals.
First, no one was to hear the voice of a whining child,
Then they had to walk in an orderly manner on their way to the lyre-player’s
place.²³
Hence if music now feminizes the mind with its broken tunes²⁴ and
womanly rhythms, that’s nothing against the ancient, manly music. [16]
And if poetry is useful for life, and music appears to adorn it, partitioning
it and rendering it singable, that will make music needed. Not to mention
that the poets are also called “song-makers”,²⁵ and in ancient times the
epics of Homer were sung to the lyre. [17] And so were the songs of the
tragedians, namely the stationary²⁶ ones, which contain a certain natural
relation,²⁷ such as the lines that go like this:
²² The form of comedy prevalent in the fifth century BCE, of which the only complete
surviving representatives are (a subset of) the comedies of Aristophanes; to judge from these
examples, it was politically hard-hitting, full of obscenity, and in many ways anarchic. In the
fourth century comedy gravitated away from this model towards the less exuberant New
Comedy, best represented for us by the Roman comedians Plautus and Terence, of which
much comic drama of the modern period is a descendant. Aristophanes’ last plays already
show some movement in this direction.
²³ The first line is from Amphictyons, a play by Telecleides, as we learn from a
quotation at Athenaeus 268b; it opens with this line and continues with an elaborate
description of the primeval Golden Age. The other two lines are from Aristophanes’
Clouds (963–4); the scene is a debate between the Stronger Argument and the Weaker
Argument, and the speech (by the Stronger) begins two lines earlier with “So I will tell
you what education was like in the old days”. This makes much more sense in context
than the line Sextus quotes from Telecleides; but the first two words in the Greek (lexô
toinun) are the same in both, and it looks as if Sextus or his source has confused the two.
²⁴ For the same phrase, and the same comment about modern degeneracy, see [Plu-
tarch], On Music 1138C, cf. 1136B.
²⁵ Melos, “song” or “tune”, is also the word for lyric poetry.
²⁶ Stasima. These are the choral odes between scenes, defined by Aristotle in the Poetics
as a song (melos again—see n. 25) with certain rhythmic characteristics (1452b23–4), and
distinguished from the parodos (“entrance”), which is sung while the chorus comes on
stage. They are called “stationary” because, in contrast with the parodos, the chorus has
reached its final position—although this does not mean that they did not move at all while
singing them, since dancing was also involved.
²⁷ i.e. as Davidson Greaves points out ad loc., between the poetry and the music.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Earth the greatest and ether of Zeus –

He is the begetter of humans and gods,
And she receiving moistening drops of rain
Gives birth to mortals,
Gives birth to food and races of beasts,
Hence she is not unjustly
Thought the mother of all.²⁸
[18] For in general music is something heard not only when people are
rejoicing, but in hymns and feasts²⁹ and sacrifices to the gods; and for
this reason it propels our thinking towards an eagerness for good things.
But it is also a consolation for people who are grieving; hence those who
are lightening their grief play for the mourners on the aulos.
b. Counter-arguments in response to these (19–28)

[19] This is the sort of thing said in favor of music; but against this it is
said, first, that some tunes being by nature such as to arouse the soul,
others such as to restrain it,³⁰ is not an obvious given. For such a thing
goes against our opinion.³¹ For just as the crash of thunder, as the
Epicurean crowd say, does not signify the manifestation of a god, but is
thought to be such by regular people and the superstitious, [20] since
equally, when other bodies have collided with one another, a similar
crash is produced, as when a millstone rotates or hands clap, in the same
way it is not that some musical tunes are by nature like this and others
like that—rather, this is an opinion added by us. At any rate the same
²⁸ Euripides fr. 839 Nauck. Nauck assembles a fourteen-line fragment, different parts of
which are quoted in numerous authors. Clement, Strom. 6.2.24,4, who quotes three lines
not included by Sextus, says that they come from Euripides’ lost play Chrysippus, although
Nauck is not sure whether to trust him; several others cite Euripides as the author without
naming the work. (The meter of these lines is anapaests, which appears to contradict
Aristotle’s definition of a stasimon (see n. 26); see, however, Janko 1987, notes ad loc. on
Aristotle’s meaning.)
²⁹ I retain the mss. reading euôchiais; Mau alters to euchais, “prayers”, following a
conjecture of Wilamowitz.
³⁰ Cf. [7], [10]. On the alleged fortifying effect of some music, compare Philodemus, On
Music col. 68, 33–40 Delattre 2007; on the alleged calming effect of other music, col. 78, 32–7
Delattre 2007, which says that “one would think extremely silly” anyone who believed this.
³¹ It is unusual, to say the least, for Sextus to confess to having an “opinion” (doxa) on
something. However, the line of argument he has just begun is one qualified by “it is said”.
[19]–[37] give the critique of music offered by those he earlier called “rather dogmatic” (cf. [4]),
and it is no surprise that these people—primarily Epicureans, to judge from the next sentence,
though cf. n. 9—would offer opinions. The “our” can be regarded as an editorial lapse.
BOOK : AGAINST THE MUSICIANS 
tune is such as to arouse horses, but human beings listening in theaters

not at all. And maybe it is not arousing even to horses, but bothersome.
[21] And then, even if the tunes of music are like this, music is not set up
for this reason as useful for life.³² For it is not because it has a power of
inducing self-control that it restrains our thinking, but in so far as its
power is that of distraction; this is why when tunes of this kind have gone
quiet, the mind again turns back to its original thinking—as it would, if
not cured by them. [22] In the same way, then, as sleep or wine does not
release grief but defers it, by creating drowsiness and relaxation and
forgetfulness, so a tune of some kind does not suppress grief in the
soul or thinking that is stricken by anger, but distracts it, if that. [23]
And Pythagoras, first, was silly, with his ill-timed wish to impart self-
control to the drunk³³—why not go away? And then, in setting them
straight in this way he is agreeing that aulos-players have more power
than philosophers when it comes to the setting straight of characters.³⁴
[24] And the fact that the Spartans went to war to the aulos and lyre is a
proof of what was said a little earlier, not of music being useful for life.³⁵
Just as people carrying burdens or rowing or doing any other heavy work
call out³⁶ in order to draw away the mind from the torment of the work,
so too those who use auloi and trumpets in war engineered this not
because the tune has any tendency to excite our thinking or is the cause
of a manly resolve, but from eagerness to draw themselves away from the
struggle and chaos, seeing that some barbarians also make war blowing
on conches and beating on drums, but none of this propels them to
bravery.³⁷ [25] And the same is to be said in the case of the raging
³² It is not entirely clear why the considerations that follow count (as they are clearly
meant to) against music being useful for life; perhaps, as Sextus goes on to argue, this is not
due to its having an intrinsic ethically transformative capacity, but the effects may still be
beneficial in the short term. See, however, [24], where it sounds as if having this kind of
intrinsic character is what it would take for Sextus to be willing to call music “useful for life”.
³³ Cf. [8] and Philodemus, On Music col. 42, 39–44 Delattre 2007.
³⁴ For the same term (epanorthôsin êthôn), cf. Philodemus, On Music col. 144, 24
Delattre 2007.
³⁵ Cf. [9] and Philodemus, On Music col. 72, 43–73, 2 Delattre 2007.
³⁶ Keleuousin, literally “order”. But the word came to be used of the call giving time to
rowers on a ship; here, by a further extension, it appears to be used of rhythmic calling by
the rowers themselves, or other people engaged in repetitive heavy labor.
³⁷ I follow Blomqvist’s suggestion (1968, 87–8) that the object of protrepetai is the
barbarians; this is not stated in the Greek text but is easily understood.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Achilles;³⁸ in fact, since he was erotically inclined and immoderate, it is

not surprising that he was a fan of music. [26] “But for god’s sake, even
the heroes entrusted their own wives to some singers, treating them as
guards with self-control, as Agamemnon did with Clytemnestra.”³⁹ But
this just comes from men who tell stories, who then catch themselves out
at the next step; for if music was trusted for setting straight the passions,
how come Clytemnestra killed Agamemnon at his own hearth “like an ox
at the manger”,⁴⁰ and Penelope received an undisciplined mob of youths
into Odysseus’ house, and by always giving them false hopes and
strengthening their desires, stirred up the war in Ithaca for her husband,
which was more troublesome and difficult than the expedition against
Troy? [27] Then again, one should not say that, if Plato approved of
music, it contributes to happiness,⁴¹ since others who are no less trust-
worthy than him, such as Epicurus, denied this claim, saying on the
contrary that it is no benefit and is
lazy, wine-loving, careless about money.⁴²
[28] And people who, with a view to its usefulness, mix it up with the
advantage from poetry,⁴³ are silly, since, as we said in Against the
Grammarians, one can teach that poetry is useless⁴⁴ and, no less, can
also show the following: that music, which deals with melody, is of a
nature only to delight, whereas poetry, which also deals with thought,
can bring benefit and impart self-control.
c. An additional, disjunctive argument against music’s

value (29–37)
[29] This is what the argument is like against the points tried out;⁴⁵ but
the principal thing said against music is that if it is useful, it is said to be
³⁸ Cf. [10].
³⁹ This is an imagined objection from the supporter of music. Cf. [11]–[12] and
Philodemus, On Music col. 49, 23–7 Delattre 2007.
⁴⁰ Odyssey 11.411. ⁴¹ Cf. [13].
⁴² Euripides fr. 184 Nauck—from the lost play Antiope, as is indicated by a quotation of
another line clearly identifiable as from that play, coupled with the use of all the words in
the line quoted by Sextus in connection with Zethus, a character in that play, in Dio
Chrysostom 73, 10.
⁴³ Cf. [16]. ⁴⁴ Cf. 1.277ff., 297–8.
⁴⁵ i.e. the points attempted in defense of music.
BOOK : AGAINST THE MUSICIANS 
of use either in so far as the person who has done music⁴⁶ gets more
delight than regular people from musical performances they hear, or in
so far as it is not possible for people to become good unless they have first
been educated by them,⁴⁷ [30] or from the fact that the elements of music
turn out to be the same as those of the knowledge of matters pertaining
to philosophy (we said something similar above about grammar⁴⁸); or
from the fact that the world is organized according to harmony, as the
Pythagoreans assert, and we need the theories of music for the know-
ledge of the universe, or because tunes of a certain kind create character
in the soul. [31] But music would not be said to be of use from the fact
that musicians get more delight than regular people from the perform-
ances they hear. For, first, the delight is not necessary for regular people,
as are the ones that come from drink⁴⁹ or warmth after hunger or thirst
or cold; [32] and then, even if they are something necessary, we can enjoy
them without experience in music.⁵⁰ At any rate, children listening
to a tuneful lullaby are put to sleep, and the non-rational animals are
charmed by the aulos and the Pan-pipe, and dolphins, the word is, swim
towards ships as they are being rowed, delighting in the melodies of
auloi;⁵¹ and neither of these⁵² is likely to have experience of music or a
conception of it. [33] And for this reason, perhaps, in the same way as we
enjoy tasting food or wine without the skill of cooking or of wine-tasting,
so too we would enjoy listening to a delightful tune without musical
skill;⁵³ while the expert, more than the regular person, grasps that it
⁴⁶ i.e. has been trained in the expertise (technê) or alleged expertise of music.
⁴⁷ i.e. by people trained in music.
⁴⁸ It is not entirely clear what passage Sextus has in mind. Most editors and translators
point to 1.300ff., but Davidson Greaves points to a reference to music and philosophy at
1.72.
⁴⁹ Perhaps <brômatos ê>, “food or . . . ” should be added before this, as do Bury and
Pellegrin et al. following Hervetus; clearly there is an omission here, either a copyist’s or
Sextus’ own.
⁵⁰ Again, this refers to a training in music.
⁵¹ Cf. Euripides, Electra 435, which describes a dolphin accompanying ships on their way
to Troy, drawn by the sound of the aulos played on board; philaulos, “aulos-loving”, is the
term used.
⁵² i.e. neither the children nor the animals. Perhaps we should follow Bury and read ei ge
instead of hoi te in the previous lines, giving the sense “seeing that dolphins” instead of “and
dolphins” and thus making the dolphins an example of animal behavior rather than an
additional category.
⁵³ There is no word for “skill” in the Greek, either here or in connection with cooking and
wine-tasting just before. But there is a whole class of adjectival forms ending in -ikê where one
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
comes about with expertise, he gains no more in enjoyable experience.⁵⁴

[34] So that music is not something to be chosen in so far as those who
are knowledgeable in it get to enjoy it more. Then again, nor because it
paves the way to wisdom for the soul; for, on the contrary, it resists and
goes against aiming for virtue, rendering the young easily led into
intemperance⁵⁵ and sex, [35] since the one who has done music
Enjoying song and dance always hunts after this;
One will become idle at home and in the city,
To one’s friends a no one, going away unnoticed,
Whenever one is in the power of sweet pleasure.⁵⁶
[36] Along the same lines, its usefulness is not to be introduced on the
basis that both it and philosophy start from the same elements, as is right
away clear. It remains, therefore, to say that it turns out to be useful for
happiness because the world is organized according to harmony or
because it makes use of tunes that create character. Of these the last
has already been criticized as not being true,⁵⁷ [37] while the world being
organized according to harmony is shown to be false in various ways;
and then, even if it is true, this achieves nothing towards blessedness—
likewise, nor does the harmony in the instruments.
3. Attack on the principles of music (37–67)

Well, the first form of counter-argument against the musicians is of this
sort; [38] the second, which attaches to the principles of music, gets into
is supposed to understand the noun technê, “skill” or “expertise”, and mousikê is an example
of this. Although I have generally translated it just “music”, and most of the time this works
fine, this is a case where it is essential to the point that Sextus is talking about skill or expertise
in music (and the same goes for cooking and wine-tasting). See also n. 46.
⁵⁴ I translate the text given in Mau, which incorporates a number of changes by Heintz.
There is certainly something wrong with the mss. text, and I have no better solution to offer;
the general sense must be more or less what appears in the translation. However, it is worth
noting that the word “expert” (technitou) does not appear in the mss. (though “with
expertise” (technikôs) just after does).
⁵⁵ Akolasian; the same word appears repeatedly in Philodemus’ On Music (col. 81, 4; 82,
4, 10, 13; 121, 19; 127, 30 Delattre 2007).
⁵⁶ Euripides fr. 187 Nauck, from the lost play Antiope, as stated by Stobaeus 3.30.1,
quoting these lines and more.
⁵⁷ Cf. [28].
BOOK : AGAINST THE MUSICIANS 
a rather more effective investigation.⁵⁸ Namely, since music is a science

of what is in tune and out of tune, and of what is rhythmic and
unrhythmic, if we show that neither do tunes subsist nor do rhythms
belong among existing things, we will definitely have established that
music too is non-existent. Let us speak first about tunes and their
subsistence, after starting a little further back.⁵⁹
b. What sound is; different types of sound (39–41)

Definition of sound
[39] Sound, as one would unequivocally allow, is the perceptible object
peculiar to hearing; for just as it is the job of sight alone to grasp colors,
and of smell alone to seek out things that smell good and bad, and of
taste, as well, to sense sweet and bitter things, so sound would be the
perceptible object peculiar to hearing. [40] And of sound some is sharp,
some heavy,⁶⁰ each of these taking its name somewhat metaphorically
from the perceptible objects of touch; for just as ordinary life has called
what pricks and cuts the sense of touch “sharp” and what creates
crushing and presses down “heavy”, in the same way, too, for sound it
calls the one that, as it were, cuts one’s hearing “sharp” and the one that,
as it were, crushes it “heavy”. [41] And there is nothing strange if, just as
we have called a sound gray or black or white from the perceptible
objects of vision, so too we have used certain metaphors from those of
touch. Now, whenever the sound is produced evenly and at one pitch, so
that no veering off of the sense occurs towards the heavier or the sharper,
then such a sound is called a note, which is why the musicians say in
outline terms:
⁵⁸ Cf. 1.7 and accompanying note (n. 3).

⁵⁹ i.e. after discussing a few preliminary points before coming directly to this topic.
⁶⁰ The Greek words oxus and barus have as their primary meanings “sharp” and “heavy”,
but can also mean “high” and “low” as applied to musical pitches. Since Sextus goes on to
explain the transference of meaning from the one to the other, we cannot simply translate
these terms “high” and “low”, as we would naturally wish to do in a purely musical context.
Metaphors from touch do of course exist in our talk about music (“light”, “heavy”,
“piercing”, etc.), but they do not straightforwardly correlate with pitch. Arguably, however,
the Greek terms did not straightforwardly correlate with pitch either, and were not applied
to that context without some strain; see Barker 2002. If so, perhaps it is just as well that we
cannot simply treat them as equivalent to “high” and “low”. Analogous things might also be
said about color-language; see [41].
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
c. What a note is; how notes relate to one another (42–4)

Definition of note
[42] “A note is the falling of tuneful sound under one pitch”.⁶¹ And of
notes, some are in unison, others not in unison; in unison are those that
do not differ from one another in terms of sharpness or heaviness, not in
unison are those not in this state. [43] And of the ones in unison, as of
those not in unison, some are called sharp, some heavy, and again of
those not in unison some are called discordant, some concordant; dis-
cordant are those that affect one’s hearing unevenly and in a split-up
manner, concordant those that do so more evenly and in an undivided
manner. [44] The peculiar character of each kind will be clearer once
we have made use of a transition from the qualities of taste. So, just as
of things tasted, some have a mixture of such a kind as to affect the
sense uniformly and smoothly, like honey-wine and honey-water,⁶² and
others not in the same or similar ways,⁶³ like oxymel⁶⁴ (for each of these
components of the mixture imprints its own quality on the taste), so with
notes, discordant are the ones that affect one’s hearing unevenly and in a
split-up manner, concordant are those that are more even.
d. Intervals and scales (44–51)

Well, in musical circles the difference among notes is something like
this; [45] and from these certain intervals are determined, according to
which the sound moves either rising towards the sharper or slackening
towards the heavier. This is the reason why, by analogy, some of these
intervals are called concordant, others discordant; [46] concordant are
any that are delimited by concordant notes, discordant are any delimited
by discordant ones. And of the concordant intervals, the first and least
the musicians call the fourth, the next one greater than this the fifth, and
⁶¹ Except for the absence of the word “tuneful”, this definition appears verbatim in
Aristoxenus’ Harmonic Elements (20.16–17). Sextus acknowledged Aristoxenus as a leading
musical theorist in [1]; cf. nn. 69, 70.
⁶² Mixtures of honey with wine and water respectively.
⁶³ i.e. others affect the sense in such a way that the different components do not make up
a single uniform blend, but, as Sextus goes on to say, each one retains its own separate
character.
⁶⁴ A mixture of honey and vinegar, used for medicinal purposes. As a Google search will
immediately show, it is still in use today.
BOOK : AGAINST THE MUSICIANS 
the one greater than the fifth the octave.⁶⁵ [47] And again, of the
discordant intervals, the first and least according to them is the so-
called diesis,⁶⁶ second is the semitone, which is twice the diesis, and
third is the tone, which is double the semitone. [48] Furthermore, in the
same way as every interval in music has its subsistence in notes, so too
does every character; it is a certain kind of melody. For just as among
human characters some are severe and rather tough (the stories say that
those of the ancients were like this), others easily giving in to erotic
passions and drunkenness and wailings and lamentations, so a certain
melody creates solemn and refined movements in the soul, another one
lower-class and ignoble movements. [49] In general terms, melody of
this type is called by the musicians “character”, from being productive of
character, just as fear, which produces pallor, is called pale,⁶⁷ and “south
winds hard of hearing, misty, prone to headache, sleepy and relaxed”,⁶⁸
instead of making these things happen. [50] And of this melody in
general, one kind is called color, one harmony, and one diatonic,⁶⁹ of
which harmony is somehow such as to bring about an austere character
and solemnity, color is shrill and mournful, and diatonic is somewhat
rough and rustic. [51] And again, the harmonic tune has no divisions
among the musical elements in it,⁷⁰ but the diatonic and the color have
⁶⁵ On the mathematical aspects of these concords, as discussed by the Pythagoreans,

cf. 4.6–8.
⁶⁶ “Diesis” is the Greek word, but “diesis” does also exist in English; it still refers to a very
small musical interval, although it can now also refer to the accidental “sharp” (e.g. F♯). The
Wikipedia article on diesis, in addition to supplying quite precise definitions, has examples
to listen to. In ancient contexts as in modern ones, the word could refer to several different
very small intervals; Sextus’ blanket comment that it is half a semitone is an oversimplifi-
cation. On the whole complex subject of ancient Greek harmonic theory, see Barker 2007;
on diesis, see p. 269 for the basic point, which can be illustrated by consulting the index
under “diesis”.
⁶⁷ See, e.g., Iliad 7.479 for chlôron, “pale”, as an epithet applied to fear.
⁶⁸ A quotation from Hippocrates, Aphorisms, 3.5.
⁶⁹ These are the three types of scale in ancient Greek music, usually called chromatic (from
chrôma, “color”), enharmonic, and diatonic (and usually introduced in the order of Sextus’
following comment, with enharmonic or “harmony” first). Each consists of four notes
(a “tetrachord”) with the outermost notes at an interval of a fourth; the differences involve
the sizes of the intervals between these and the intervening two notes (and the latter with each
other). A good brief explanation can be found in Moore 2010; more detail in West 1992,
chapter 6. The subject is discussed in Aristoxenus, Harmonic Elements 57–65 (translation
with notes in Barker 1989, 160–6).
⁷⁰ According to Aristoxenus’ Harmonic Elements (62.14–65.20, translated at pp. 164–6
in Barker 1989) there is a certain flexibility in the positioning of the inner two notes of the
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
certain more specific differences: the diatonic two—the one called soft
diatonic and the one called tense; and the color three—one of them is
called tonic, another semi-tonic, and one soft.
e. Arguments against the existence of sound (52–8)

[52] Well, it is clear from this that the musicians’ whole theory on
melody has its basis on nothing else than on notes. And for this reason,
if they are done away with, music will be nothing. How, then, will
someone say that there are not notes? From the fact that as a kind they
are sound, we will say, and that sound has been shown by us to be non-
existent in our Skeptical Treatises, from the testimony of the dogma-
tists.⁷¹ [53] For the Cyrenaic philosophers say that only effects on us⁷²
exist, and nothing else; and hence that sound, not being an effect but
productive of an effect, does not belong among existing things.⁷³ And
tetrachords, and thus in the exact sizes of the intervals among the four notes; the three scales
just introduced (see n. 69) are not entirely rigid. He names as familiar the two sub-varieties
of diatonic scale, and the three varieties of chromatic scale, here identified by Sextus; no
such subdivisions of the enharmonic scale are specified. For discussion see again West 1992
(especially pp. 168–9).
⁷¹ Skeptical Treatises is Sextus’ title for the work of which Against the Logicians, Physicists,
and Ethicists are the surviving portions; cf. 1.26, 29, and accompanying notes. In the present
context, scholars have generally pointed to a passage in the second book of Against the
Logicians (M 8.131), where there is a brief argument against the existence of sound. That
passage is made use of in [57] (note the examples of the ship and the house, common to both
passages). But here Sextus says that he is going to show the non-existence of sound “from the
testimony of the dogmatists”, and the following section illustrates this; the reference is in fact
to various passages in the first book of Against the Logicians (M 7), where various dogmatic
theories on the status of perceptible objects, or our ability to know them, are summarized.
Sound is not specifically mentioned in these passages, but it comes under the general heading
of perceptible objects and hence is taken to be covered by them. See the following notes for the
exact passages. (Given the looseness of fit, I do not include them in the list of parallels between
this and other works of Sextus at the end of the volume.)
⁷² Pathê. A pathos is a way in which someone (or something) is affected. In its
application to human beings it can often be translated “passions” (cf. [7]) or “feelings”.
But here the reference is to the way in which objects affect us in ordinary sensory
experience. To avoid begging questions about how the Cyrenaics conceive this, I translate
by the neutral term “effects on us”; for discussion of this issue, see Bett forthcoming.
⁷³ See M 7.191–200. As noted in n. 71, sound is not actually mentioned here; this is included
as something the Cyrenaics “say” in the sense that it is a clear consequence or application of what
they say. (“Sound”, of course, has to be understood here as the phenomenon out in the world that
produces an auditory effect, not as the auditory effect itself.) Note also that Sextus is being very
cavalier in attributing to the Cyrenaics the view that only the pathê exist; every other source,
including this passage of Against the Logicians, says they think that only the pathê can be
apprehended. But of course, that would not suffice for his purpose here.
BOOK : AGAINST THE MUSICIANS 
Democritus and Plato, in doing away with every perceptible thing, at the
same time do away with sound too, which is thought to be a certain
perceptible object.⁷⁴ [54] And besides, if there is sound, either it is a body
or incorporeal; but neither is it a body, as the Peripatetics teach by many
means,⁷⁵ nor incorporeal, as the Stoics do;⁷⁶ therefore there is not sound.
[55] And someone else would also attempt to argue as follows:⁷⁷ if there
is not soul, nor are there senses; for they are parts of this. And if there are
not the senses, nor are there the perceptible things; for the subsistence of
these is conceived in connection with sense perception. But if there are
not perceptible things, nor is there sound; for it is a form of perceptible
things. But now, the soul is nothing, as we showed in our writings on it;⁷⁸
therefore there is not sound. [56] Then again, if sound is neither short
nor long, there is not sound; but sound is neither short nor long, as we
suggested in Against the Grammarians,⁷⁹ when raising questions against
⁷⁴ See M 7.135–40 (Democritus), 141–4 (Plato). Here again (see n. 73) Sextus is skating on
thin ice. Although it is true that in both cases perceptible objects are said to be ontologically
inferior to something else—atoms and void in the former case, purely intelligible Forms in the
latter—it is a considerable oversimplification to say that either philosopher, even as repre-
sented in these passages by Sextus himself, held perceptible objects to be non-existent; as with
the Cyrenaics, the focus in these passages of Against the Logicians is primarily epistemological
rather than ontological.
⁷⁵ One can perhaps infer the incorporeality of sound from Aristotle’s view that in
sensation one receives the perceptible forms of things without their matter (On the Soul
424a18ff.). In any case, Sextus is not the only one to attribute this view to Aristotle or the
Peripatetics; see Aetius 4.20, p. 409, 25ff. Diels.
⁷⁶ The Stoics distinguish between the utterance (phônê, the same word here translated
“sound”), which is corporeal, and the “sayable” or “thing said” (lekton), which is incorporeal.
Sextus refers to this view in numerous places; an example in the present work is 1.155–6.
⁷⁷ The reference to “someone else” here is odd. But it is the product of a textual
emendation, which I follow with less than full confidence. The mss. as they stand do not
appear to make sense; the translation would have to be something like “But someone would
attempt to argue in this way and that” (all’hôde tis k’akeinôs epicheirêseie legein), which is
hard to relate to the present context. Hervetus’ Latin translation shows that he took there to
be a reference to “someone else”. On this basis Bekker made some small alterations to the
mss. text (all’hôde tis k’akeinôs to allos de tis k’an ekeinôs) which Mau followed, and this is
the text that I translate.
⁷⁸ Apparently a lost work; it does not appear to correspond to anything in the extant
works. Scholars have sometimes pointed to PH 2.131, 3.186; but neither of these comes
close to being an argument for the non-existence of the soul. Cf. M 10.284, where a work On
the Soul is referred to. Hupomnêmasi, which I have here translated “writings”, is the same
word translated “treatises” in the title Skeptical Treatises in [52]. There is some flexibility in
the degree of formal composition implied by the term; “notes” or “memoranda” often give
the sense better than “treatises”.
⁷⁹ Cf. 1.124ff.
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
them about syllable and word; therefore there is not sound. [57] In
addition to this, sound is conceived neither in completion nor in sub-
sistence,⁸⁰ but in coming into being and temporal extension; but what is
conceived in coming into being is coming into being—it is not yet—just
as a house that is coming into being is not said to be, either, or a ship or a
great many other things. So sound is nothing. [58] And it is possible to
employ numerous other arguments, which we have discussed in detail, as
I said, while treating of them in our Pyrrhonians.⁸¹ But now, if there is
not sound, nor is there the note, which was said to be the falling of a
sound under one pitch;⁸² and if there is not the note, nor is musical
interval in place, nor concord, nor melody, nor their kinds.⁸³ And for this
reason nor is there music; for it was said to be a science of what is in tune
and out of tune.⁸⁴
f. Rhythm and its dependence on time (59–61)

[59] From here, let’s start again: it is to be shown that, even if we step
back from these points, music stands as non-existent because of the
impasse that is about to be taken up involving the creation of rhythms.
For if rhythm is nothing, nor will there be any science concerning
rhythm; but actually, rhythm is nothing, as we will establish; therefore
there is not any science concerning rhythm. [60] For as we have often
said,⁸⁵ rhythm is a system of feet, and the foot consists of a raising and a
setting down.⁸⁶ But the raising and the setting down are observed in a
quantity of time; the setting down takes up certain times, and so does the
⁸⁰ i.e. not in its completed state as a fully formed entity.

⁸¹ This may sound like a reference to Outlines of Pyrrhonism. But “as I said” seems to be
a reference back to the mention of Skeptical Treatises in [52], and this is perhaps supported
by the word hupomnêmatizomenoi (“while treating of them”), which is the participial form
of the verb corresponding to hupomnêma, “treatise”. If so, Pyrrhonians must be an
alternative title for this work. See further [61] and accompanying note.
⁸² Cf. [42].
⁸³ At this point editors and translators from Fabricius on have routinely cited [50]. But
this discusses only the various kinds of melody; “their kinds” indicates that Sextus has in
mind the sub-varieties of all the things just mentioned. On the different kinds of intervals
and concord, cf. [45]–[46].
⁸⁴ Cf. [38].
⁸⁵ Really? There is a reference to feet as the metrical units of verse at 1.159, but no
mention of their components; and no other extant passage of Sextus can be readily
connected with this topic.
⁸⁶ Arsis and thesis, derived from the raising and setting down of the feet in dancing, but
applied by extension to elements of the feet, or metrical units, that make up lines of poetry or
music (which were often, of course, danced to). See West 1992, chapter 5, especially pp. 133–5.
BOOK : AGAINST THE MUSICIANS 
raising. For just as syllables are composed out of elements,⁸⁷ and words
out of syllables, so feet come into being out of times and rhythms out of
feet. [61] If, then, we show that time is nothing, we will at the same time
have it demonstrated that feet do not exist either, and for this reason not
rhythms, which get to be constituted from them. From which it will
follow that nor is there any science concerning rhythms.
g. Arguments against the existence of time (61–7)

How then? That time is nothing we have already established in our
Pyrrhonians;⁸⁸ nonetheless, we will establish it now too, up to a point.
[62] If there is time, either it is limited or it is unlimited. But it is not
limited, since then we will say that there was once a time when there was
not time, and that there will at some point be a time when there will not
be time. Nor is it unlimited; for there is some part of it that is past, and
future, and if each of these is not, time is limited, while if each is, the past
and the future will be in the present, which is absurd. Therefore time is
not. [63] Further, what consists of non-existent things is non-existent;
and time, which consists of what is past and is no longer and what is
future and is not yet, will be non-existent.⁸⁹ [64] And besides, if time is
partless, how do we say that some of it is past, some present, and some
future? But if it has parts, since everything that has parts is measured by
some part of itself, like the cubit by the palm and the palm by the finger, it
too will have to be measured by one of the parts of itself. [65] But it is not
possible to measure the other times by the present, since the same time that
is coming into being, namely the present, will according to them⁹⁰ be both
⁸⁷ Cf. 1.47 and accompanying note.

⁸⁸ Cf. n. 81. Arguments against time of a similar character to these appear in both
Outlines of Pyrrhonism (3.140–6) and Against the Physicists (M 10.189–99), the latter of
which originally belonged to Skeptical Treatises. But in at least two places the parallels with
the latter are much closer; see nn. 89, 93. Again, this makes one suspect that Pyrrhonians
may be an alternative title for Skeptical Treatises.
⁸⁹ This closely parallels M 10.192; there is a partial parallel in PH 3.142, but the language
and argumentation are much less close. Cf. n. 88.
⁹⁰ With Pellegrin et al. and Davidson Greaves I retain the mss. reading ho ginomenos kai
ho enestôs chromos ho autos estai kat’autous; Mau, following Heintz, transposes kat’autous
to after ginomenos and deletes the first ho and kai. Heintz claims this is supported by the
parallels in M 10.195 and PH 3.143. But, first, I fail to see that the altered text is any closer to
these other passages; and second, I reject this methodology—the text should not be altered
just because this will make it closer to some other text by the same author (cf. book 3, n. 36).
(The language is not appreciably more awkward with the mss. reading, and in any case
Heintz cites no difficulty with the received text in itself.) The words “according to them” are
unexpected (and appear in neither of these parallel passages), but presumably Sextus is
 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
past and future: past because it measures the time that is past, future
because it measures the future—which is absurd. So nor is the present to
be measured by one of the remaining two.⁹¹ For this reason it must be said
that here too⁹² there is not any time. [66] In addition to this, time is tripartite,
and has one part past, one present, and one future, of which the past is no
longer, the future is not yet, and the present either is partless or has parts.
But it cannot be partless; for in what is partless nothing with parts can occur,
as Timon says, such as coming into being and perishing.⁹³ [67] And besides,
if the present in time is partless, it neither has a beginning from which it
begins, nor an end at which it ceases, and for this reason not a middle either;
and in this way there will not be the present time. But if it has parts, then if it
is partitioned into times that are not, there will not be time, but if into times
that are, there will not be time as a whole, but some of its parts will be and
others will not be. So time is nothing, and for this reason so are feet, and
rhythm, and the science concerning rhythms.
4. Conclusion (68)
[68] Having said this much in an effective way⁹⁴ and against the principles
of music, with this we round off our extended essay⁹⁵ against the disciplines.
drawing attention to results that he thinks anyone who tried to defend the reality of time
would be bound to accept.
⁹¹ Because, by parity of reasoning, this would mean that the past or the future (whichever
of these “remaining two” one picked) would be present.
⁹² i.e. on the basis of the current considerations too.
⁹³ Precisely the same point is attributed to Timon in the parallel passage at M 10.197; this
may have been in Timon’s Against the Physicists—see 3.2 and accompanying note (n. 2).
There is no mention of Timon in the parallel passage of PH (3.144), nor the examples of
coming into being and perishing; cf. n. 88.
⁹⁴ Cf. 1.7 and accompanying note (n. 3).
⁹⁵ Diexodon. This word suggests a lengthy treatment of a subject; see 2.7, 6.6 for uses
where length specifically is an issue. (Used in reference to an entire work, diexodos is quite
different from hupotupôsis, “outline”, as in Outlines of Pyrrhonism.) “Essay” by itself would
suggest a shorter treatment; I have rendered it by “essay” in 3.2, but if I am right that Sextus
is there speaking of the parts of the work directed against the mathematical disciplines only
(cf. book 3, n. 4), that is not necessarily misleading. Here, by contrast, he is clearly speaking of
the whole work, and so it seems appropriate to highlight the matter of length; hence the
additional word “extended”. Suitable one-word translations with this implication are hard
to come by. I have avoided “treatise” since that is already in use for hupomnêma (cf. n. 78).
“Monograph” suggests a treatment of a single subject, which is ill-suited to the diversity of
disciplines dealt with here. And “dissertation”, while theoretically possible, would, for
most readers of this volume, inevitably carry the farcical suggestion that Sextus was a
candidate for the PhD.
Persons Referred to in Against

Those in the Disciplines
This list includes all historical persons, and all philosophical schools except the
Pyrrhonists themselves, mentioned in M 1–6. It does not include divine or
mythical characters, nor place names. Cities of origin are sometimes included
to help distinguish people from others of the same name. The list does not
include a few cases where “Socrates” and “Plato” are used to refer to arbitrary
human beings, rather than speaking of the actual persons. It also does not include
“Chaldeans”, which Sextus uses as a simple synonym for “astrologers” rather
than to refer to any particular group.
The OCD gives additional, but still concise, information on most of the
persons listed here, but not all; some of the people Sextus refers to in this work
are very obscure. Keyser and Irby-Massie 2008 is also useful for scientific thinkers
(understood in a fairly broad sense); for philosophers, the online Stanford
Encyclopedia of Philosophy is a valuable resource. (Wikipedia often has good
basic information, but is not reliable for philosophical detail.)
Academics (2.20, 43)

Members of the Academy, the school founded by Plato, which lasted as a
continuous institution until the early first century BCE. The name comes from
its location at the edge of Athens, which was sacred to the hero Academus.
Aeschines (2.40)
c.397–c.322 BCE. Athenian orator; sparred with Demosthenes over the relations
between Athens and Macedon and other matters.
Alcaeus (1.298)
Probably born c.625–620 BCE. Lyric poet from Mytilene, on Lesbos.
Alexander (1.263, 282; 5.89)
356–323 BCE. King of Macedon following his father Philip’s assassination in 336;
tutored by Aristotle; spent most of his rule on a military expedition to Persia and
beyond, which had the effect of greatly expanding the contours of the Greek
world.
Anacreon (1.298)
Sixth-century BCE lyric poet, from Teos in Ionia.
Antigonus Gonatas (1.276)
c.320–239 BCE. King of Macedonia from c.277/6.
 PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Antiochus (1.293)
There were several kings of the Seleucid Empire (which covered much of the
modern Middle East over roughly two centuries following Alexander’s exped-
ition) bearing this name. This is probably Antiochus III, “the Great”, who lived
from c.242 to 187 BCE, and reigned from 222 to his death.
Aratus (1.304; 5.98)
c.315–before 240 BCE. Poet of Stoic persuasion; spent part of his life at the court of
Antigonus Gonatas. Only his Phainomena survives, but is known to have written
many other poems.
Archilochus (1.298)
Seventh century BCE. Poet from Paros in the Cyclades; known for his stinging wit.
Archimedes (1.301)
Died 212 BCE. Mathematician and scientist of Syracuse.
Aristarchus of Samothrace (1.44)
c.216–144 BCE. Grammarian and head of the library at Alexandria; pupil of
Aristophanes of Byzantium. Edited and wrote commentaries on Homer and
many other authors.
Aristo (2.61)
Second century BCE. Peripatetic, pupil of Critolaus. Not to be confused with the
better-known Peripatetic Aristo of Ceos, or with the Stoic Aristo of Chios. See
also note on 2.61.
Aristophanes (1.228)
c.450–c.386 BCE. Athenian comic dramatist; the only representative of Old Com-
edy (see note on 6.15) of whom complete works survive.
Aristophanes of Byzantium (1.44)
c.257–180 BCE. Scholar and head of the library at Alexandria; edited Homer and
other authors.
Aristotle (1.2, 258, 315; 2.8, 61; 3.57–9)
384–322 BCE. Studied with Plato but eventually founded his own distinct school,
the Lyceum (also known as the Peripatetic school). Arguably the most influential
philosopher of all time.
Aristotle the Younger (1.258)
Grandson of Aristotle by his daughter Pythias. Also mentioned in Theophrastus’
will as preserved by Diogenes Laertius; nothing more is known of him.
Aristoxenus of Tarentum (6.1)
Born probably a little before 350 BCE. Studied with Aristotle. Best known as a
writer on music theory, but also wrote biographies of several philosophers and
other works.
PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES 
Asclepiades of Bithynia (3.5)

Dead by 91 BCE. Physician, active in Rome for at least some of his life. Known for
a corpuscular theory of the body.
Asclepiades of Myrlea (1.47, 72, 252)
Probably active early first century BCE. Taught in southern Spain; author of
grammatical works, but also wrote on astronomical, historical, and mythical topics.
Athenaeus (2.62)
Active probably late second century BCE. Rhetorician, named by Quintilian as
contemporary and rival of Hermagoras.
Callimachus (1.48, 309)
c.300–after 245 BCE. Poet and scholar, active in Alexandria; the scholarship
suffuses the poetry. Hymns and epigrams survive.
Chaeris (1.76)
Dates uncertain; may have been a pupil of Aristarchus. Grammarian; cited in
scholia to Homer, Pindar, and Aristophanes.
Charmidas (2.20)
168/7–some time before 91 BCE. Studied in the Academy under Carneades, then
left for Asia, but subsequently returned to Athens and taught in his own school.
Best known for interest in rhetoric. Also known in some sources (including
Cicero) as “Charmadas”.
Chrysippus of Cnidus (1.258)
Active around 300 BCE. Physician; nothing is known about his views. See note
on 1.258.
Chrysippus of Soli (1.301)
c.280–c.208 BCE. The third head of the Stoic school and its great systematizer.
Clitomachus (2.20)
187/6–110/9 BCE. From Carthage, originally named Hasdrubal. Academic skeptic,
pupil of Carneades and known for preserving his arguments; head of Academy
from 127/6 to his death.
Corax (2.96–8)
Fifth century BCE. Syracusan; said to have been the first teacher of rhetoric.
Crates of Mallos (1.44, 79, 248)
Second century BCE. Grammarian and “critic” (a role to which he conceived
grammar as subordinate). Active in Pergamum, opposed Aristarchus’ Alexan-
drian school on matters of methodology.
Critolaus (2.12, 20, 61)
Second century BCE. Peripatetic philosopher, head of the Lyceum. Was one of
three philosophers sent on a delegation to Rome in 156/5 BCE.
 PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Ctesiphon (2.40)
Fourth century BCE. Athenian statesman, supporter of Demosthenes; little more is
known of him beyond the story alluded to by Sextus and reported by others.
Cyrenaics (6.53)
Philosophical school in fourth and third centuries BCE, claiming origin from
Aristippus of Cyrene, a follower of Socrates. Held pleasure to be the aim of life;
denied that the nature of things (as opposed to the ways we are affected by them)
could be known.
Demades (1.295; 2.16)
c.380–318 BCE. Athenian statesman and orator; negotiated with Macedonians,
convinced (unlike other prominent Athenians) that they were too strong to be
resisted militarily.
Demaratus (1.258)
Grandson of Aristotle by his daughter Pythias, named after his paternal ancestor
who was king of Sparta from 515 to 491 BCE. Mentioned in Theophrastus’ will;
nothing more is known about him.
Demetrius Chlorus (1.84)
Active before middle of first century BCE. Grammarian, of whom very little is
otherwise known.
Democritus (6.53)
c.460–c.360 BCE. From Abdera; with Leucippus, one of the two originators of the
atomic theory, from which he also derived concerns about our knowledge of how
things are.
Demosthenes (1.59, 98; 2.40)
384–322 BCE. Leading Athenian orator.
Dicaearchus (3.3)
Active late fourth century BCE. Pupil of Aristotle, philosopher but also author on
literary and cultural topics.
Diodorus Cronus (1.309–11)
Died c.284 BCE. Logician and explorer of paradoxes; associated with the Megarian
school but sometimes assigned to a separate, Dialectical school. Teacher of Zeno
of Citium.
Dionysius of Thrace (1.57, 63, 80–1, 250, 253)
c.170–c.90 BCE. Grammarian, pupil of Aristarchus. Author of a surviving work,
Technê Grammatikê (cited by the Latin title Ars Grammatica), on which there are
also surviving commentaries.
Empedocles (1.302–3)
c.492–c.432 BCE. Cosmologist whose thinking also had a Pythagorean dimension.
PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES 
Epicharmus (1.273)
Active early fifth century BCE. Sicilian writer of comedy, of whom only fragments
survive.
Epicureans (1.1, 299; 2.25; 3.98; 6.19)
Philosophers in the tradition founded by Epicurus; lasted from his time until at
least second century CE.
Epicurus (1.1, 3, 5, 21, 49, 57, 272–3, 283–5; 6.27)
341–270 BCE. Founder of a philosophical school with atomism and hedonism as
its central tenets (though with the highest pleasure understood as freedom from
pain). The school, known from his house and lands in Athens as the Garden,
survived as an institution for several centuries, but Epicureanism continued in
other places and after its demise.
Erasistratus (1.258)
c.315–c.240 BCE. Physician from Ceos, may have been active in both Antioch and
Alexandria. Developed a physiological theory in which the workings of pneuma
(breath) are central.
Eratosthenes (3.28)
c.276–194 BCE. Head of the library at Alexandria from around 247 until his death.
Polymath: wrote on mathematics, but also many other subjects, and even com-
posed poetry (studied with Callimachus). Only fragments of his work survive.
Eudoxus (1.301; 5.1)
c.390–c.340 BCE. Mathematician and astronomer; associated with the Academy,
but was also active in his hometown of Cnidus in south-west Asia Minor. See
note on 5.1.
Euripides (1.58, 62, 271, 274, 287–8, 308; 3.3)
c.485–406 BCE. The youngest of the three great Greek tragedians, and the most
directly reflective of philosophical trends of his day. Nineteen complete plays
survive, along with many other fragments.
Heraclitus (1.301)
Active c.500 BCE. Early cosmologist, known for his obscurity (and the surviving
fragments support this); proposed a conception of the world as subject to an
overarching principle of order, as well as constant local change.
Hermagoras (2.62)
Active probably late second century BCE. Teacher of rhetoric, referred to fre-
quently in Cicero’s rhetorical works and in Quintilian.
Herodotus (1.58)
c.490–c.425 BCE. Conventionally known as the first Greek historian; composed a
long work on the Persian Wars, with excursions into many other topics.
 PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Hesiod (1.58, 204, 289)

Around 700 BCE. Along with Homer, revered as one of the two earliest Greek
poets. Surviving works are Theogony and Works and Days; other works are
known of by fragments and/or titles.
Hipparchus (5.1)
Second half of second century BCE. Astronomer and geographer. Emphasized
precise astronomical observation and invented several instruments for the
purpose; also engaged in astrology. See note on 5.1.
Hipponax (1.275, 298)
Mid to late sixth century BCE. Poet of Ephesus, was banished and moved to
Clazomenae. Poems known for outspokenness and abuse.
Homer (1.58, 203–7, 273, 281, 283–4, 289; 2.3; 6.16)
Probably eighth century BCE. The supposed author of the Iliad and the Odyssey,
and of other now lost epic poems. Many stories grew up about him, but we have
no solid information; not everyone agrees even that both poems were composed
by the same person.
Hyperides (2.4)
389–322 BCE. Athenian orator, traditionally ranked second only to Demosthenes.
Active in resistance to Macedonian power, and eventually executed as a result.
Ion of Chios (2.24)
480s–before 421 BCE. Poet and prose author. Best known for tragedies; competed
in Athenian dramatic competitions. Only fragments survive. (Not the same Ion
as appears in Plato’s dialogue of that name.)
Isocrates (2.62)
436–338 BCE. Athenian orator and teacher of oratory. Associated with Socrates,
but also studied with the Sophists Prodicus and Gorgias and the rhetorical
teacher Tisias. His speeches comment widely on fourth-century politics; his
educational practice represented a serious alternative to the emerging philosophy
of Plato.
Lampon (6.13)
Fifth century BCE. Nothing is known of this person beyond what Sextus tells us;
but see note on 6.13 (n. 21).
Lycurgus (2.21)
Dates and existence uncertain. Traditional founder of Spartan constitution.
Menander (1.58)
344/3–292/1 BCE. The leading writer of Greek New Comedy, highly influential on
the Roman comedians Plautus and Terence (see also note on Old Comedy, 6.15).
Only one play, Dyskolos (Grumpy), survives almost complete, plus portions of six
others and many fragments.
PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES 
Metrodorus of Lampsacus (1.61)

c.331–278 BCE. Original member and co-founder of the Epicurean school; Epi-
curus addressed some of his works to him. Wrote widely himself, but only
fragments survive.
Metrodorus the doctor (1.258)
Fourth century BCE, if he existed. See note on 1.258.
Nausiphanes (1.2–4)
Active late fourth century BCE. Named in the sources as a Democritean philoso-
pher. Taught Epicurus, including perhaps in the principles of atomism. But also
said to have learned from Pyrrho (who is himself named in a line of philosophers
descending from Democritus, but these “succession” stories are often retrospect-
ive inventions).
Nicanor of Stagira (1.258)
Died 317 BCE. Friend of Aristotle (and apparently his adopted son, according to a
fragmentary inscription). Macedonian general and diplomat. Named in Aris-
totle’s will as the future husband of his daughter Pythias when she came of age.
Panyasis (1.261)
Older cousin of Herodotus. Poet of Halicarnassus; author of an epic on Heracles,
highly regarded by ancient critics, and a poem on the history of Ionia. Only a few
fragments survive.
Peripatetics (6.54)
Philosophers in the tradition of Aristotle. So called after the “walkways” (peripa-
toi) in the area of his school, the Lyceum.
Philip of Macedon (1.295)
382–336 BCE. King of Macedon and the key figure in its rise to dominance in the
Greek world; father of Alexander.
Phylarchus (1.262)
Third century BCE. Historian; however, he often strayed outside the strictly
historical, and was criticized in antiquity for sensationalism. Only fragments
survive.
Pindar (1.58)
Probably 518–after 446 BCE. Boeotian lyric poet, often considered the greatest of
all Greek lyric poets. Ancient scholars assembled his poems into seventeen books
organized by genre; of these, four books of victory odes (for winners in athletic
competitions) survive.
Pindarion (1.202, 205)
Grammarian. The Suda calls him a pupil of Aristarchus and attributes to him
several works on Homer; a few other grammatical sources record detailed
comments of his on the text of Homer.
 PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Plato (1.2, 28, 58–9, 98, 258, 301, 303; 2.2, 4, 6, 12, 61; 4.11, 14, 21;
5.89; 6.13, 27, 53)
c.424–347 BCE. Follower of Socrates, author of philosophical dialogues, and
founder of the Academy. The first to articulate (for better or worse) a clear
conception of philosophy as a demarcated subject of study.
Plato, comic poet (2.35)
Contemporary of Aristophanes. Won the Athenian comic drama competition in
410 BCE. Only titles and fragments survive.
Polyanthus of Cyrene (1.261)
Nothing else is known of this person beyond what Sextus tells us; similar informa-
tion is reported in a scholium on Euripides, but under the name Polyarchus.
Procleus (1.258)
Nothing is known of either the father or the son of this name beyond what Sextus
tells us.
Ptolemy II Philadelphus (1.276)
308–246 BCE. King of Egypt from 282.
Ptolemy the Peripatetic (1.60–1)
Probably late second century BCE. Grammarian; nothing is known of him beyond
what Sextus tells us.
Pyrrho (1.2, 53, 272, 281, 305–6)
c.360–c.270 BCE. The supposed originator of Pyrrhonist skepticism; see Introduc-
tion, Section 2.
Pythagoras (1.303; 4.2; 6.8, 23)
c.570–c.490 BCE. Founder of the Pythagorean school or lifestyle; beyond his belief in
transmigration of souls, almost nothing can be securely attributed to him, but many
legends concerning his life and thought developed over the school’s history.
Pythagoreans (4.2, 9; 6.30)
Philosophers identifying themselves as followers of Pythagoras. Some, but not all,
focused on mathematics as the key to understanding the world; other prominent
Pythagorean themes are transmigration of souls and observance of various pre-
scribed practices and taboos. Forms of Pythagoreanism persisted well into the
Roman imperial period.
Pythias (1.258)
Born no earlier than 335 BCE. Daughter of Aristotle with his wife of the same name.
Socrates (6.13)
469–399 BCE. Athenian philosopher with pioneering ideas about ethics; may
also have inclined towards monotheism. Executed by the Athenians for
PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES 
impiety and corrupting the young. Plato and many others wrote dialogues
featuring him.
Socratic school (2.25)
See note on 2.25.
Solon (6.9)
Late seventh–early sixth century BCE. Athenian political and poet. Archon (chief
magistrate) of Athens 594 BCE. Architect of reforms that are credited with paving
the way for the later democracy. Poetry survives only in fragments.
Sophocles (1.313; 3.3)
490s–406 BCE. The second of the three great Athenian tragic dramatists. Seven
plays survive.
Sophron (1.284)
Fifth century BCE. Syracusan writer of mimes: dramas representing “slices of life”,
with emphasis on imitation but including spoken dialogue. Only fragments and
titles survive.
Sostratus (1.276)
First half of third century BCE. Diplomat in the service of Ptolemy Philadelphus.
Pliny and Lucian also credit him with the design of the Pharos lighthouse at
Alexandria (and, in Lucian’s case, with other architectural and engineering
achievements); but Strabo merely tells us that he dedicated it, with an inscription,
to the “divine saviors”, i.e. Castor and Pollux.
Sostratus the dancer (1.293)
See note on 1.293.
Staphylus (1.261)
Historian of Naucratis (near Alexandria). Dates unknown; earliest mention in
Strabo. Wrote works on several Greek peoples, including the Arcadians.
Stesichorus (1.261)
Active first half of sixth century BCE. Lyric poet; only fragments survive.
Stoics (1.17, 20, 28, 78; 2.6; 6.54)
The leading philosophy of the Hellenistic period; continued well into the Roman
imperial period. Begun by Zeno of Citium, who taught at the Stoa poikilê (painted
porch) in Athens.
Tauriscus (1.248)
Nothing is known about this person beyond what Sextus tells us.
Telesarchus (1.262)
Dates unknown. The work cited by Sextus is also referred to in the scholia to
Homer; beyond this we have virtually no information on him.
 PERSONS REFERRED TO IN AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES
Thales the Cretan (2.20–1)

See note on 2.21.
Theophrastus (1.258)
372/1 or 371/0–288/7 or 287/6 BCE. Associate of Aristotle and his successor as
head of the Lyceum.
Thucydides (1.58–9, 98)
c.460–c.400 BCE. Athenian general and author of a history of the Peloponnesian
War (431–404 BCE, though the history stops unfinished at 411). Reflects many
intellectual trends of his era; writes in a highly idiosyncratic style.
Timon (1.53, 305; 3.2; 6.66)
c.320–230 BCE. Pyrrho’s disciple and biographer; work survives only in fragments
and second-hand reports.
Tissaphernes (2.22)
Active late fifth to early fourth century BCE. Governor of Sardis in Asia Minor, on
the western edge of the Persian Empire; negotiated over some years with the main
combatants in the Peloponnesian War.
Xenocrates (2.6, 61)
396/5–314/3 BCE. Pupil of Plato in the Academy and its third head, from 339 to
his death.
Xenophanes (1.257, 289)
For dates, see note on 1.257. Philosophical poet.
Zeno of Citium (2.7)
334–262 BCE. Founder of the Stoic school.
Glossary
This Glossary lists terms in the text that are of some importance either in Sextus’
philosophical outlook or in the disciplines he discusses. The translations shown
here are not absolutely invariable; occasionally a Greek word is translated with a
different English word from the one(s) shown, and occasionally an English word
on the list renders a different Greek word. In most cases only one member of a
group of cognate terms appears on the list; exceptions are when members of a
group of cognate Greek words are translated with unrelated English words. In the
Greek–English list, English words are occasionally given in parentheses; these are
translations of the corresponding Greek term that are rare, but seemed worth
including. Words in square brackets are explanatory, to indicate the precise sense
of the English word in question.
1. English–Greek
accent tonos
addition prosthesis
after-rising epanaphora
anti-mid-heaven antimesouranoun
apprehend antilambanô, katalambanô
argument logos
ascendant hôroskopos
ask zêteô
breadth platos
center [in astrology] kentron
circle kuklos
concept, conceiving noêsis
conception ennoia, epinoia
concord sumphônia
consider theôreô
consonant sumphônon
contemplate theôreô
declination apoklima
degree [geometrical] moira
demonstration apodeixis
depth bathos
 GLOSSARY
(be) diametrically opposite to diametreô

dimension diastasis
discipline mathêma
discourse logos
distance diastêma
effective pragmatikos
element stoicheion
equal strength isostheneia
experience empeiria, periptôsis
expert discourse technologia
expertise technê
expression lexis
[Platonic] Form idea
good Greek hellênismos
grasp lambanô
impasse aporia
interpretation exêgêsis
[musical] interval diastêma
intractable aporos
knowledge eidêsis, gnôsis
learn manthanô
length mêkos
letter gramma
limit peras
line grammê
mid-heaven mesouranoun
modulation prosôdia
name onoma
non-existent, non-subsistent anupostatos
[musical] note phthongos
notion noêsis
number arithmos
observe theôreô
orator rhêtôr
oratory rhêtoreia
part meros
perceptible aisthêtos
phrase phônê
point [in geometry] stigmê
point of rising anatolê
portion moira
GLOSSARY 
principle archê
raise questions zêteô
rhetoric rhêtorikê
rule theôrêma
science epistêmê
sense, sense perception aisthêsis
setting [in astrology] dunon
sign sêmeion
soul psuchê
sound phônê, phthongos
speculation theôria
speech lexis, logos
starting point archê
subsistence hupostasis
subtraction aphairesis
suspension of judgement epochê
teach didaskô
theory theôrêma, theôria
thought, thinking dianoia
time chronos
tone [musical interval] tonos
two-timed dichronos
utterance phônê
verb rêma
voice phônê
vowel phônaen
word lexis, logos, rêma
[prose-]writer sungrapheus
zodiac sign zôidion
2. Greek–English
aisthêsis sense, sense perception

aisthêtos perceptible
anatolê point of rising
antilambanô apprehend
antimesouranoun anti-mid-heaven
anupostatos non-existent, non-subsistent
aphairesis subtraction
apodeixis demonstration
apoklima declination
 GLOSSARY
aporia impasse
aporos intractable
archê principle, starting point
arithmos number
bathos depth
chronos time
diametreô be diametrically opposite to
dianoia thought, thinking
diastasis dimension (extent) [see note on 3.25]
diastêma distance, [musical] interval
dichronos two-timed
didaskô teach
dunon setting
eidêsis knowledge
empeiria experience
ennoia conception
epanaphora after-rising
epinoia conception
epistêmê science
epochê suspension of judgement
exêgêsis interpretation
gnôsis knowledge
gramma letter
grammê line
hellênismos good Greek
hôroskopos ascendant
hupostasis subsistence, (basis)
idea [Platonic] Form, (kind)
isostheneia equal strength
katalambanô apprehend
kentron center [in astrology]
kuklos circle
lambanô grasp, take, accept
lexis word, expression, speech
logos speech, argument, word, discourse
(formula, rule, rationale, ratio)
manthanô learn
mathêma discipline
mêkos length
meros part
mesouranoun mid-heaven
GLOSSARY 
moira portion, degree

noêsis concept, conceiving, notion
onoma name (term)
peras limit
periptôsis experience
phônaen vowel
phônê sound, voice, phrase, utterance
phthongos sound, [musical] note
platos breadth
pragmatikos effective
prosôdia modulation
prosthesis addition
psuchê soul
rêma word, verb
rhêtôr orator [see note on 2.16]
rhêtoreia oratory
rhêtorikê rhetoric
sêmeion sign [in geometry, used as equivalent to
“point”]
stigmê point [in geometry]
stoicheion element
sumphônia concord (agreement)
sumphônon consonant
sungrapheus writer [i.e. prose-writer]
technê expertise
technologia expert discourse (rules of expertise)
theôrêma theory, rule
theôreô observe, consider, contemplate
theôria contemplation, consideration, speculation,
theory [see note on 2.55]
tonos accent, tone [musical interval]
zêteô ask, raise questions
zôidion zodiac sign
Parallels between Against Those

in the Disciplines and Other Works
of Sextus
These parallels range from close verbal similarity to a broader similarity in

argument or subject matter. In some cases they receive comment in the notes.
The spotting of parallels is not an exact science, and often, though not always,
there is room for debate about whether a pair of passages genuinely qualifies. On
the abbreviations used in citing Sextus’ works, see the Introduction, Section 1.
1.9 M 11.218, PH 3.252

1.10–14 M 11.219–23, PH 3.256–8
1.19–29 M 11.224–31, PH 3.255
1.29–30 M 11.232–3, PH 3.253
1.30–4 M 11.234–8, PH 3.259–65
1.35–8 M 11.239–43, PH 3.266–8
1.57 M 11.21
1.134 M 9.338–40, PH 3.98–9
1.135–7 M 9.343–6
1.139–40 M 9.350–1
1.157 M 8.76–7, 258–61, PH 2.107–8
1.162–3 M 9.308–11, 318–19, PH 3.88–9
1.165–8 M 9.321–5, PH 3.94–6
1.185 M 8.203, 10.301, 11.227
1.303 M 7.92, 119–21
2.10 PH 3.188
2.31–2 M 9.14–15
2.63 M 7.174
2.109–10 M 8.340–1
2.112 M 8.347
3.8–9 M 8.370–1
3.11 M 8.372
3.12 M 8.373
3.13 M 8.374
3.14–17 M 8.375–8
3.19 M 9.367, PH 3.39
 PARALLELS WITH OTHER WORKS OF SEXTUS
3.22 M 9.377–8
3.29–36 M 9.380–9
3.37–50 M 9.390–402
3.42 M 8.59, 11.251
3.51–4 M 9.403–6
3.55–6 M 9.410–11
3.57–9 M 9.412–13
3.60–4 M 9.414–17, PH 3.42–3
3.65–70 M 9.418–25
3.71–3 M 9.426–7
3.74 M 9.428
3.75–6 M 9.429
3.77–82 M 9.430–6
3.83–4 M 9.367–70
3.85–91 M 9.371–5
3.107 M 9.284
3.109–11 M 9.282–3
3.112 M 9.284–5
3.113–15 M 9.286–93
3.116 M 9.294
4.2–3 M 7.94
4.4–5 M 7.99–100
4.6 M 7.95–6
4.8–9 M 7.97–8
4.10 M 10.284
4.11 M 10.285
4.12–13 M 10.286
4.17 M 10.288–9
4.18 M 10.293
4.19–20 M 10.294–8
4.21–2 M 10.302–4, 308–9
4.24–5 M 9.312–15, PH 3.89–90
4.26–8 M 9.315–17, PH 3.92–3
4.29–30 M 9.318–19
4.33 M 9.318
6.57 M 8.131
6.62 M 10.189–91, PH 3.140–1
6.63 M 10.192, PH 3.142
6.64–5 M 10.193–6, PH 3.143
6.66 M 10.197, PH 3.144
6.67 M 10.198–9
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Index
This index covers pp. 1–236. It does not include entries for Persons Referred to in
Against Those in the Disciplines or the other lists at the back of the volume.
ability (dunamis) 8, 20, 87, 105–6, 132, animals 35, 61, 118 n. 301, 136, 153, 177,
147, 194, 215 186–8, 196 n. 9, 211 n. 70, 215–16,
in correct phrasing 64 227
in philosophy 222 Annas, J. 26, 79 n. 138
in rhetoric 129 Antaeus 152
in speaking 140 anti-mid-heaven (antimesouranoun)
in writing 84 197–9, 203, 205
of skeptics 6–7, 9, 20, 215 n. 84 antiquity 1–3, 5, 21 n. 42, 51, 70 n. 109,
to persuade 143–4 91 n. 177, 93 n. 188, 144 n. 64, 184 n. 1
to play musical instruments 16 Aphrodite (Venus) 201–2
to read and write 16 Apollo 65, 115 n. 283, 152 n. 84
abstractions: Apollodorus 105 n. 241, 122 n. 318
of the dogmatists 19 appellative (prosêgoria) 74 n. 127, 75,
of theorists 8 100
Academy 5–6, 187 n. 11 apprehend (antilambanô,
Acamas 105 katalambanô) 45, 48, 69, 72, 121,
accent (tonos) 60, 62 126, 141, 145, 152, 162, 205–7,
Achaeans 49, 128 212–13, 215, 232 n. 73
Achilles 74 n. 126, 75, 122 n. 318, apprehension 58–9, 69, 88, 101, 122,
152 n. 84, 221–2, 226 129–30, 207–8, 210
actuality 125 n. 328 Aracynthus 105
addition (prosthesis) 34, 57, 76, 83–4, Areopagus 147
191, 193 Ares (Mars) 65–6, 71, 105, 134, 201–2
Aegisthus 222 Argives 49
Aenesidemus of Cnossos 6, 14 Aries 196, 202
Aeolic form 60 Aristion 84, 85
Aeschylus 124 n. 324 Aristotelian:
Aetius 185 n. 3, 233 n. 75 activity of soul 24
after-rising (epanaphora) 197, 199, 205 notion of hypotheses 156 n. 8
Agamemnon 222, 226 worldviews 23
Alexandria 16, 96 n. 204, 111 n. 264 Aristotelianism 2, 23
Alexandrians 93 arithmetic 3, 11–12, 15, 18, 22, 34, 128,
Allen, J. 1 n. 1, 70 n. 110, 101 n. 223 184–5, 187 n. 10, 191, 194
Amycus 152 arithmeticians 154, 193
analogy 31, 43 n. 14, 86, 88–93, Artemis 115 n. 283, 152 n. 84
94 n. 194, 95–100, 103, 143, 165–7, Artemisium 215 n. 82
204 n. 42, 222 n. 20, 230 artes liberales 15, 142 n. 56
Anatolius 156 n. 7 ascendant (hôroskopos) 34, 197–201,
Anaxagoras 161 n. 27 203, 205, 206 n. 50, 207–9,
angle 33, 179–80 210 n. 63, 212–14, 216–17
 INDEX
Asclepius 107 200 n. 27, 201 n. 33, 208 n. 58, 209 n. 61,
aspiration 55 n. 54, 65 n. 97, 66 n. 100 216 n. 86, 219 nn. 3, 6, 233 n. 77
assertion 80, 88, 112, 125, 157 beneficent 201, 203
astrologers 87 n. 168, 193 n. 28, 194 n. 3, benefit 52, 112, 138, 158, 226
195, 209 n. 59, 214 n. 78 Berryman, S. 156 n. 8
astrological: Bett, R. 3 n. 6, 4 n. 11, 5 n. 13, 6 n. 15,
disposition 214 n. 77 7 n. 18, 10 n. 20, 13 n. 24, 14 nn. 25,
investigation 205 n. 48 27, 17 n. 32, 21 nn. 41, 43, 22 n. 45,
method 34, 195 40 n. 3, 54 n. 49, 122 n. 315,
predictions 34, 203–5 132 n. 24, 155 n. 2, 165 n. 39,
sign 196 n. 12 220 n. 9, 232 n. 71
significance 218 n. 93 birth time 34–5, 206, 208, 209 n. 59, 210,
talk 202 n. 35 213–14
astrology 3, 16–18, 21, 35, 59 n. 73, Blank, D. 15 n. 29, 23 n. 48, 28, 39 n. 1,
87 n. 168, 121 n. 310, 193 n. 28, 194, 42 nn. 9, 11, 43 n. 12, 46 n. 23, 50 n.
198 n. 20, 210 n. 63, 215, 217 37, 51 n. 42, 52 n. 47, 54 nn. 50–1,
astronomers 160 n. 23, 194 n. 2, 55 n. 55, 56 nn. 59–60, 62, 57 n. 68,
216 n. 85 58 n. 69, 59 n. 72, 60 n. 75, 61 n. 81,
astronomy 15–18, 51 n. 40, 59 n. 73, 62 n. 86, 65 n. 95, 66 nn. 99–100,
193 n. 28, 194 68 n. 106, 69 n. 108, 71 nn. 113,
Athenians 62, 78, 98, 102, 118, 133, 116–17, 72 n. 118, 73 n. 121,
136, 223 74 n. 124, 77 nn. 129, 131, 133, 79 n.
Athens 79, 94, 118 n. 300, 132 n. 24, 147 138, 81 n. 146, 82 n. 151, 83 n. 154,
atomic theory 24 84 n. 155, 85 nn. 158, 161, 158, 86
atoms 23–4, 178 n. 63, 233 n. 74 nn. 164–5, 87 n. 167, 90 n. 175,
Attic 62 92 n. 185, 93 n. 188, 94 n. 195,
Attica 88, 105, 215 n. 82 96 n. 204, 98 n. 209, 99 nn. 215–16,
attributes 41–3, 56, 97 218, 101 n. 225, 102 n. 227, 103 nn.
aulos 50 n. 37, 117 n. 298, 219 n. 4, 221, 229–30, 104 n. 239, 106 n. 244,
224–5, 227 108 n. 252, 111 n. 266, 112 n. 267,
Aulus Gellius 110 n. 255, 203 n. 39 113 n. 275, 114 n. 279, 115 n. 283,
Austin, C. 98 n. 209 117 n. 298, 118 n. 303, 119 n. 306,
121 nn. 310, 313, 122 n. 316, 123 n.
Babylon 73 n. 121, 107 322, 124 n. 325, 125 nn. 332–3,
Babylonian 194 n. 3 126 n. 334
barbarian 48 n. 26 Blomqvist, J. 25, 44 n. 17, 58 n. 70,
language/letters 50, 124 66 nn. 99–100, 83 n. 152, 91 n. 179,
barbarians 48, 77–8, 80, 124, 136, 214, 92 n. 182, 97 n. 206, 114 n. 277, 121
225 n. 313, 125 nn. 332–4, 126 n. 334,
barbarism 31, 56, 64, 85, 92–4, 98, 101–2 130 nn. 19–20, 136 n. 38, 137 n. 42,
Barker, A. 229 n. 60, 231 nn. 66, 69–70 150 n. 82, 153 n. 89, 159 n. 21,
Barnes, J. 14 n. 26, 26, 79 n. 138, 87 n. 163 nn. 34–5, 164 n. 37, 172 n. 49,
167, 156 n. 8 177 n. 58, 197 n. 15, 200 n. 27,
Barney, J. 50 n. 37 206 n. 50, 208 n. 58, 213 n. 76,
Barton, T. 198 n. 20 214 n. 78, 225 n. 37
barytones 62 bodies 33, 44, 46, 173
Basilides 2 n. 4 intelligible 45
Beck, R. 198 n. 20 perceptible 45
Bekker, I. 40 n. 5, 42 nn. 8–9, 44 n. 17, body 19, 20, 33, 44–5, 51 n. 40, 63,
56 n. 62, 58 n. 70, 63 n. 88, 77 n. 129, 80, 81 n. 145, 135, 160–1, 164,
92 n. 185, 106 n. 245, 136 n. 34, 168–9, 173–6, 178 n. 63, 179, 182,
150 n. 82, 152 n. 86, 163 n. 32, 183 n. 80, 185–6, 199, 204, 207–8,
185 n. 4, 188 n. 16, 192 n. 26, 196 n. 13, 211, 217, 233
INDEX 
breadth (platos) 44–5, 71 n. 117, 129, comic:

160–1, 165–76, 181, 186 drama 223 n. 22
breadthless length 33, 71 n. 117, 161, dramatist 238
163, 165–74, 181, 186 fragments 118 n. 304
breath (pneuma) 135 n. 33, 143 n. 57, hypothesis 156
157, 241 plays 107
breathing (in Greek orthography) poets 98, 111 n. 264
55 n. 54, 65 n. 97, 66 n. 100, concept, conceiving (noêsis) 33, 45, 52,
69 n. 108 71 n. 117, 129, 165–9, 174, 180,
Brennan, T. 128 n. 12 186–7, 192, 207, 247, 251
Brittain, C. 28 n. 6 conception (ennoia, epinoia) 30, 33–4,
Bullock, J. 19 n. 39, 160 nn. 22–3 44–5, 47, 53 n. 49, 54–6, 58, 62,
Bury, R.G. 27, 42 n. 9, 48 n. 28, 56 n. 62, 103 n. 231, 115 n. 283, 127, 129,
63 n. 88, 74 n. 125, 77 n. 129, 165–71, 179 n. 65, 187, 188 n. 16,
79 nn. 138–9, 83 n. 154, 108 n. 252, 193 n. 28, 206–8, 227
113 n. 275, 118 n. 303, 122 n. 316, concord (sumphônia) 59, 105, 186–7,
127 n. 5, 129 n. 15, 130 n. 19, 234
136 n. 34, 142 n. 56, 145 n. 67, 149 conditionals 123, 159 n. 20
n. 78, 163 n. 32, 172 n. 49, 175 n. 54, consonant (sumphônon) 53, 64–5,
176 n. 55, 181 n. 73, 188 n. 14, 200 69, 71
n. 27, 205 n. 46, 209 n. 60, 213 n. 76, constellations 196 n. 9, 216 n. 85
219 n. 6, 227 nn. 49, 52 contemplation (theôria) 51–2, 91,
Busiris 152 98, 103
Byzantines 137 corporeal 31, 80, 174–5
Corti, L. 17 n. 34, 18 n. 36, 28 n. 5,
Cadmus 53 184 n. 1, 188 n. 13, 190 n. 21,
Camandodus 111 191 n. 23, 194 n. 2
Campbell, D.A. 133 n. 26 counter-argument (antirrêsin) 11–14,
Carneades 144 n. 65, 195 17, 34–5, 39, 47–8, 63, 85, 101,
center (in astrology) (kentron) 197–9, 104, 119, 129, 155, 176, 180, 187,
202–3, 205, 213 195, 203, 205, 214 n. 78, 218, 220,
Chaeronea 118 224, 228
Chaldean method 203–6, 212–13 Creophylus 51
Chaldeans 87, 194–5, 199–200, 203–10, Cretans 133
212–14, 218 Crete 133 n. 26
Chares 59 n. 72 Cronus (Saturn) 116, 123, 201–2
Chians 133–4 cyclical (egkuklia) 15, 40, 142 n. 56
Cicero 89 n. 173, 110 n. 261, 142 n. 57, Cyclops 166–7
165 n. 39 cylinder 172–3
Circe 108 n. 250, 118 n. 301 Cyprus 105, 124 n. 324
circle (kuklos) 12, 33–4, 121, 162, 170–2,
180, 182, 195, 197, 199 n. 24, 200, Damon 133 n. 26
202 n. 35, 209–11 Davidson Greaves, D. 23 n. 48, 28, 220
Clement 105 n. 241, 111 n. 264, 224 n. 28 n. 9, 223 n. 27, 227 n. 48, 235 n. 90
Cleombrotus of Ambracia 51 Decleva Caizzi, F. 53 n. 48
Cleopatra 107 declination (apoklima) 197, 199,
Clytemnestra 222, 226 205, 212
Cnidus 106, 216 n. 85 degree (moira) 196, 202, 210, 216
Coans 102 Deidameia 122
comedy 104, 107, 108 n. 251, 114, Delattre, D. 21 n. 43, 23 n. 48, 220 n. 9,
223 n. 22 222 n. 21, 224 n. 30, 225 nn. 33–4,
New Comedy 223 n. 22 226 n. 39, 228 n. 55
Old Comedy 136, 223 Delattre, J. 27 n. 3
 INDEX
demagogue (dêmagôgos) 138 n. 46 doctrine of atoms 178 n. 63

Demeter 105, 110 epistemology 53 n. 49
demonstration (apodeixis) 33, 80, 88, geometry 178 n. 63
112–13, 146 n. 72, 152–4, 156–60 material 22–3, 24 n. 52, 178 n. 63,
depth (bathos) 44–5, 160–1, 173–6, 186 181 n. 69
depthless 161, 173 outlook 135 n. 33
dialect 48 n. 27, 50, 54, 59 n. 74, 60, 62, philosophy 23–4
88 n. 171, 98, 103, 133 n. 28 principles 24, 178 n. 63
dialectic 16, 120, 123, 129, 145 sources 22–3, 52 n. 47, 114 n. 279,
diametrically opposite to 181 n. 69
(diametreô) 196–9, 202 traditions 161 n. 26
Diels, H. 185 n. 3, 233 n. 75 Epicureanism 23
dimension (diastasis) 33, 44, 160–4, equal arguments (isologias) 12 n. 21, 77
173–4, 175 nn. 53–4, 179, 186 equal strength (isostheneia) 6–12,
dimensionless 161–4, 179, 182 17 n. 33, 40, 151
Dio Chrysostom 226 n. 42 Erechtheus 107
Diogenes Laertius 1, 14, 42 n. 11, Eteocles 55
73 n. 121, 74 n. 127, 105 n. 241, ethics 3, 11, 23, 128 n. 12, 225 n. 32
106 n. 242, 120 n. 307, 121 n. 314, Ethiopia 217
165 n. 39, 220 n. 9 etymology 18, 31, 50, 77 n. 130,
Diogenes of Babylon 73 n. 121 85 n. 158, 86 n. 162, 101–3,
Diomedes 107 139 n. 48, 157 n. 15, 220 n. 7
Dion 217 Euboea 215
Dionysiac processions 54 n. 53 Euclid 19, 121 n. 310, 160 n. 23,
Dionysius of Halicarnassus 142 n. 55 161 n. 26, 177 n. 57, 179 n. 65,
Diphilus 111 n. 264 180 n. 68
doctors 1, 19–20, 51 n. 39, 61–2, Euclidean:
105–6, 138 approach 184 n. 1
dogmatism 10–12, 14, 17–20, 22–4, 40, geometry 18–19, 178 n. 63
46 n. 21, 53 n. 49, 122, 155 n. 2, 220, eulogies 151–2
221 n. 12, 224 n. 31, 232 n. 71 Eurytus 51
Dorians 62 Eusebius 111 n. 264
Doric dialect 60, 62, 133 n. 28 experience (periptôsis) 45, 48, 54–8, 60,
dyad 34, 185–6, 191, 196 78, 131 n. 21, 158 n. 16, 165–7, 170,
Dye, G. 19 n. 38, 51 n. 40, 156 n. 7, 208, 210 n. 64, 227–8
161 n. 26, 177 n. 57 expert 4, 17, 30, 46–7, 50 n. 37, 51, 55,
61–3, 79, 85, 87–8, 92, 95, 102–8,
education 15–16, 39–40, 142 n. 56, 124, 141, 227, 228 n. 54
223 n. 23 expert discourse (technologia) 64, 71, 76,
Egyptians 201 84, 85 n. 159, 132, 180
element(s) (stoicheion, stoicheia) 16, 22, expertise (technê) 12, 20, 31–2, 47, 50,
30, 41, 51–3, 63–4, 66–71, 83, 85, 52, 55, 58–9, 61, 85–8, 90, 93, 95–6,
140, 146 n. 73, 203 n. 38, 205, 98, 104–5, 107, 109, 119, 124, 126,
227–8, 231, 234 n. 86, 235 128–32, 134–5, 137, 139–40, 142–6,
Eleutheria (Festival of Liberty) 117 n. 299 148–9, 160–1, 184, 213, 227 n. 46, 228
Empiric school of medicine 1, 20, 94 n. 194
Empiricism 1–2, 20 Fabricius, J.A. 28, 51 n. 40, 77 n. 129,
entelechy 125 79 n. 139, 118 n. 303, 127 n. 5, 129
epic meter 66 n. 100, 83 n. 153, 166 n. 40 n. 15, 142 n. 56, 145 n. 67, 176 n. 55,
Epicurean: 234 n. 83
critique 178 n. 63, 203 n. 39 falsehood 31–2, 107, 130, 145–6
INDEX 
Five Modes 87 n. 167, 156 n. 8, 176 n. 56 analogy 86

Floridi, L. 3 n. 7, 27 n. 4 experience 56
for the most part 30, 54, 56, 58, 97 expertise 61, 119
Frede, M. 2 n. 3, 94 n. 194 gender 78 n. 134, 88 n. 171
habit 61
Galen 1, 2, 94 n. 194, 106 n. 242 irregularities 79 n. 139
gender 31, 76, 78 n. 134, 88 n. 171, knower 59
219 n. 5 modes 103
geometers 33, 41, 154–5, 156 n. 7, old wives’ talk 76
157–8, 160 n. 23, 165, 167–70, partition 82
172–7, 178 n. 63, 181 n. 69, 183 theory 81 n. 146
geometrical: thick-headedness 57, 77
figures 24, 33, 172 Great Year 218
lines 18 n. 36, 181 n. 73 Greece 117 n. 299, 215 n. 82, 221
objects 19, 160 n. 22, 181 n. 71 Greeks 48, 59, 61, 64, 77–8, 80,
principles 185 86, 95, 117 n. 299, 214,
reasoning 171 215 n. 82
sense 33, 155
structures 51 n. 40 Hades 51, 117 n. 295
theory 176 Halicarnassus 142 n. 55
geometry 3, 11–12, 15–16, 18–19, 22, 24, Hankinson, R.J. 14 n. 25, 142 n. 56
33, 51, 99, 128, 155, 156 n. 8, 160–1, happiness 16, 109, 118, 120, 226, 228
170, 176, 178 n. 63, 181, 184, 194 Harder, R. 42 n. 11, 56 n. 64, 65 n. 96,
Giusta, M. 25, 40 n. 5, 42 n. 9, 56 n. 62, 72 n. 118, 83 n. 154, 99 n. 214,
58 n. 69, 61 n. 81, 63 n. 88, 68 n. 131 n. 23, 149 n. 78, 217 n. 88
106, 83 n. 154, 106 n. 245, 112 n. harmony 46, 125, 186, 222, 227–8, 231
267, 131 n. 23, 196 n. 13, 211 n. 68, Heath, T. 177 n. 57, 179 n. 65
212 n. 71 heavens 117, 195, 198 n. 19, 204, 206,
gods 49, 52 n. 47, 60–1, 93 n. 190, 104, 208–12, 216
110–11, 113, 115–17, 120–2, 136, Hecuba 107
185, 195, 197, 199, 224 Heintz, W. 25, 42 n. 10, 43 n. 15, 46 n.
Golden Age 223 n. 23 23, 110 n. 262, 158 n. 17, 162 n. 28,
good Greek (hellênismos) 31, 63–4, 163 n. 34, 164 nn. 36–7, 172 nn.
85–90, 92, 94–8, 101–2, 141–2 49–50, 175 n. 54, 182 n. 75, 188 n.
Gorgon 107 13, 189 n. 17, 190 n. 21, 228 n. 54,
Graham, D. 50 n. 37 235 n. 90
grammar 3, 12, 15–17, 20, 22, 23 n. 46, Helen 128
30–2, 49–64, 70, 74, 85 n. 161, Hellenistic period 5
88–9, 102–5, 107–13, 117–19, Helmreich, G. 94 n. 194
121, 123, 126–7, 131, 135 n. 32, Hephaestus 117
139, 148, 220 Hera 116–17
grammarians 16, 21, 26, 31, 41, 49, Heracles 105, 152
50 n. 35, 52 n. 47, 53–5, 57–62, Hermes (Mercury) 201–2
64, 68–73, 74 n. 127, 76–7, 79–81, Hermesianax of Cyprus 124 n. 324
83–93, 94 nn. 192, 194, 96–7, Hermogenes 141 n. 55, 143 n. 58
98 n. 209, 104–6, 108–9, 111, Heron 156 n. 7, 178 n. 62, 179 n. 65
118–24, 125 n. 330, 126, 127 n. 1, Hervetus, G. 28, 68 n. 106, 149 n. 78,
143, 148 192 n. 26, 227 n. 49, 233 n. 77
grammatical: Hesione 105
account 79 Hiero 105 n. 241
agreement 94 n. 192 Hippocrates 231 n. 68
 INDEX
Hippocratic corpus 142 n. 56 knowledge (eidêsis, gnôsis) 47, 50–2,

Hippolytus 2 n. 4, 107 55, 57–9, 61–2, 97, 106, 145,
homonymy 50 n. 36 165 n. 39, 227
horoscope 198 n. 19, 206 n. 51 Kock, T. 118 n. 304
House, D.K. 2 n. 4 Kühn, K.G. 1, 106 n. 242
human beings 39, 49, 52, 63, 75, 166–7,
177, 189, 213, 215, 225, 232 n. 72 lack of uniformity 10, 40, 79
hypothesis 21, 33, 41, 67 n. 103, 74, Lampros 222 n. 21
87 n. 167, 155–60, 170, 186, 220 law-courts 132, 138, 143
laws 133, 135–9
impasse (aporia) 10, 40, 43, 46–7, 53, learners 30, 41, 46–8, 222
57–8, 60–1, 67, 70, 72–3, 81, 91, learning 5, 20, 28, 30, 39, 41, 43–4,
93, 97–8, 145, 149–51, 154–5, 46–9, 55
160, 169, 173, 178, 180, 190–3, Lebedians 111, 117
208, 214 n. 79, 215, 220, 234 Lebedus 111 n. 265
incorporeal 31, 43 n. 13, 44–6, 80–1, Lemnos 117
153, 161, 173–5, 178 n. 63, 182, 233 length (mêkos) 33, 44–5, 53, 65–8, 70,
infinite 58, 60 71 n. 117, 121, 160–3, 165–76,
amount 57 181, 185–6
divisibility of time 71 n. 117 Leto 115 n. 283, 152 n. 84
magnitude 174 Libya 152
number 56, 58 n. 69 line (grammê) 33–4, 71 n. 117, 75–6,
regress 87, 101, 153 81–4, 121, 161–5, 169–74, 176–83,
signifiers 61 186, 212
things 56, 61, 97, 106, 189 Linus 91
words 61, 124 literacy (grammatistikê) 30, 49–53
infinity 45, 61, 71–2, 87, 97, 101, 154, logic 3, 8, 15, 159 n. 20
174, 179–80 Long, A.A. 21 n. 42
intelligible: Lucian 158 n. 17
bodies 44, 45 Lycomedes 122
pores 156
things 162, 165 magnitude 110, 114, 162–3,
intensification 33, 167–8 177–9, 184
interval (musical) (diastêma) 35, 230–1, Magrin, S. 27 n. 3
232 n. 70, 234 maleficent 201, 203
intractable (aporos) 44, 46, 82, 84, 167, Marathon 214
173–4, 179, 183, 188 Marchand, S. 23 n. 49
Ionians 62 Marcus Aurelius 2 n. 5
Irby-Massie, G. 194 n. 2 mathematical:
Iris 111 n. 266 aspects 231 n. 65
Ithaca 226 books 4 n. 10
contexts 186 n. 9
Janáček, K. 2 n. 4, 3 n. 8, 5 n. 13, 195 n. 5 definitions 156 n. 7
Jouanna, J. 2 n. 4 disciplines 4 n. 10, 16, 155 n. 4,
Jürß, F. 28, 42 n. 9, 67 n. 103, 118 n. 303, 236 n. 95
127 n. 5, 135 n. 33, 164 n. 36, 206 n. 51, matters 119
210 n. 62, 212 n. 72 objects 169 n. 44
reasoning 214
Kassel, R. 98 n. 209 subject 19
Keyser, P. 194 n. 2 mathematicians 22, 44, 119, 121, 155,
knack (tribê) 55 n. 55, 131 n. 21 160, 169, 193, 195, 216 n. 85
INDEX 
mathematics 19, 59–60, 119–20, modulation (prosôdia) 66–8, 69 n. 108,

161 n. 26, 178 n. 63, 184, 193 n. 28, 70, 103
194, 218 Morison, B. 13 n. 24
mathêmatikoi 4, 184 n. 2, 193 n. 28 Mueller, I. 178 n. 61
Mau, J. 25, 40 n. 2, 42 nn. 9–11, 44 n. 17, Musaeus 91
46 n. 23, 50 n. 38, 56 nn. 59–60, 62–3, Muses 220
58 n. 70, 63 n. 88, 65 n. 96, 66 n. 100, music 3, 12, 15–17, 22, 35, 58–60, 99,
67 n. 103, 68 n. 106, 71 n. 113, 113, 119, 140, 148, 219–29, 231–2,
74 n. 125, 77 n. 129, 83 nn. 152, 154, 234, 236
84 n. 155, 91 n. 179, 92 n. 182, 93 n. musicians 41, 61, 71 n. 116, 72, 105,
190, 94 n. 195, 96 n. 198, 99 nn. 214, 119, 133 n. 26, 148, 218–20, 222,
218, 104 nn. 237, 240, 106 n. 244, 227–32
111 n. 265, 112 n. 267, 125 n. 333, Mycene 79
130 nn. 19–20, 131 n. 23, 135 n. 33, myths 50, 63, 104, 107, 108 nn. 249,
136 nn. 34, 38, 137 n. 42, 140 n. 49, 251, 117
145 n. 66, 147 nn. 74–5, 149 n. 78, Mytilene 39
150 nn. 79, 82, 152 n. 86, 158 n. 17,
159 n. 21, 161 n. 25, 163 nn. 32, 34–5, Nauck, A. 109 n. 254, 110 n. 255,
164 nn. 36–7, 172 nn. 49–50, 176 n. 111 n. 264, 112 n. 269, 113 nn. 272,
54, 181 n. 73, 182 n. 75, 185 n. 4, 188 274, 118 n. 304, 122 n. 318,
nn. 13, 16, 189 nn. 18–19, 190 n. 21, 124 n. 323, 134 n. 29, 224 n. 28,
192 n. 26, 196 n. 13, 197 n. 15, 226 n. 42, 228 n. 56
200 n. 27, 201 n. 33, 205 n. 46, 206 n. navigation 17, 52, 58, 131, 194
50, 208 n. 58, 209 nn. 59, 61, 211 n. 68, Netz, R. 24 n. 52, 178 n. 63
212 n. 71, 213 nn. 75–7, 216 n. 86, 217 Nicander of Colophon 107 n. 247
nn. 88, 90, 219 n. 3, 220 n. 11, 224 n. Niobe 152
29, 228 n. 54, 233 n. 77, 235 n. 90 not-something 43–4
medical:
discussions 2 observation 17, 18 n. 36, 34–5, 53,
Empiricism 1 55, 79, 86, 88–9, 92, 121 n. 310,
example 156 n. 8 129 n. 15, 194, 206, 208–11,
practice 1 217–18
theory 103 n. 230, 122 Odysseus 49, 107–8, 115 n. 282,
tribe 206 118 n. 301, 122 n. 318, 152, 226
usage 99 Olympiad 105 n. 241
words 129 Olympians 116
works 5 n. 14 Olympic games 105 n. 241
writers 207 n. 54 orator (rhêtôr) 62, 118, 131,
medicine 1, 20, 50, 52, 58, 62–3, 137, 139, 141, 144, 147–8,
94 n. 194, 99, 103 n. 230, 107 n. 246, 150, 152
119, 126 n. 334, 128–9, 131, 140, oratory (rhêtoreia) 32, 128, 131–2,
142 n. 56, 217 143
melody 219, 226–7, 231–2, 234 Orion 107
Methodism 1 n. 1, 2, 20 Orpheus 91, 136
Midas 46 n. 21 oxytones 62, 96
mid-heaven (mesouranoun) 197–9,
203, 205 Pallas Athena 116
Mirhady, D. 156 n. 5 Pan 124
modes (grammatical, poetic, Pausanias 133 n. 26
Pyrrhonian) 7, 87 n. 167, 89, 103, Pegasus 107
114, 156 n. 8, 176 n. 56, 211 n. 70 Peleus 74 n. 126, 75
 INDEX
Pellegrin, P. 15 n. 29, 23 n. 48, 28, Plutarch 15 n. 28, 110 nn. 255–6, 115 n.
43 n. 12, 48 n. 28, 56 n. 62, 62 n. 86, 285, 118 n. 304, 124 n. 324, 133 n.
66 n. 100, 72 n. 118, 86 n. 165, 26, 221 n. 16, 222 n. 17, 223 n. 24
92 n. 185, 93 n. 190, 108 n. 252, poetic:
113 n. 275, 118 n. 303, 127 n. 1, maxims 112
127 nn. 5–6, 129 n. 15, 130 n. 19, 134 modes 103, 114
n. 30, 135 n. 33, 138 n. 43, 140 n. 49, phrases 109
142 n. 56, 145 n. 67, 157 n. 15, 164 n. quotation 50 n. 35
36, 175 n. 54, 185 n. 4, 190 n. 21, 196 poetry 31, 63, 91, 109–10, 111 n. 265,
n. 13, 205 n. 46, 211 n. 68, 214 n. 78, 112–13, 117–19, 120 n. 307,
217 nn. 88, 90, 220 n. 9, 227 n. 49, 136 n. 34, 223, 226, 234 n. 86
235 n. 90 poets 31, 54–61, 63, 91, 98, 103, 105 n.
Peloponnesians 78, 88 241, 109–16, 118–19, 122, 126, 128
Pelops 105 n. 8, 133 n. 26, 136, 221, 223
Penelope 226 point 161, 163–4
Pericles 133 n. 26 Polito, R. 6 n. 16
Perin, C. 7 n. 17 Pollux 99 n. 216
Perseus 152 Poseidon 111 n. 266, 116, 152
Persians 117 n. 299, 136, 215 n. 82 Posidonius 120 n. 309, 212 n. 72
persuasion 32, 127–8, 129 n. 13, 130, Priam 152 n. 84
143–4, 146–7, 150 Priene 117
Pfeiffer, R. 51 nn. 44–5, 123 n. 319 principle(s) (archê, archai) 18–19, 21–2,
Philo of Alexandria 16 24, 33–5, 40 n. 3, 49, 70, 87, 155 n. 1,
Philodemus 21, 23 n. 48, 220 n. 9, 156 n. 8, 160, 170, 176–7, 180–1,
222 n. 21, 224 n. 30, 225 nn. 33–5, 184–5, 187 n. 10, 199, 205, 228, 236
226 n. 39, 228 n. 55 Proclus 179 n. 65, 181 n. 69
Phineus 107 Proitus 107
Phlius 5, 121–2 Pyrrhonism 3 n. 6, 5–6, 11, 13–15,
Phoenician signs of Cadmus 53 114 n. 277
Phrygian 124 Pyrrhonist:
Phryne 128 skepticism 5, 8, 11
physical: tradition 5, 161 n. 26
inquiry 19 writings 14
matters 119 Pyrrhonists 1, 3 n. 6, 5, 10, 11, 24, 34, 39,
principles 24 40, 134 n. 31, 155 n. 3, 205, 220 n. 8
speculation 120
terms 19 quadrivium 15–16
theories 23 Quintilian 89 n. 173, 131 n. 21, 137 n.
world 19, 51 n. 40 42, 143 n. 58, 144 n. 64, 156 n. 6
physicians 107 n. 246
physicists 47, 86 n. 163, 119, 207 rhetoric (rhêtorikê) 3, 5, 12, 15–16, 32,
physics 3, 19, 24, 119 39, 54 n. 53, 62, 127–36, 137 n. 41,
pitch (musical) 229–30, 234 138–41, 142 n. 56, 143–54, 156
plane 162, 164, 165 n. 38, 171–3, rhetoricians 16 n. 31, 32, 108, 126, 132,
177 n. 58, 178–80 134 n. 30, 135 n. 32, 142 n. 56
Plataea 79, 117 n. 299 rhythm 22, 35, 219, 221, 223, 225, 229,
Platonic: 234–6
conception of the one 34, 187 Roman:
exegesis 120 n. 306 alphabet 66 n. 98
Form 45, 188 nn. 13, 15, 189–90 comedians 223 n. 22
ideas 184 n. 1, 187 n. 11 philosophy 5
Platonism 2 Romans 95
Plautus 223 n. 22 Rome 201 n. 32
INDEX 
Rose, V. 2 n. 5 159 nn. 18, 20, 176 n. 56, 195 n. 6,

Ross, D. 169 n. 44 210 n. 64, 211 n. 70, 215 n. 84,
220 nn. 10–11, 233 n. 78, 234 n. 81,
Saturninus 1 235 nn. 88–90, 236 nn. 93, 95
sayable (lekton) 44–5, 60 n. 76, 80–1, Skeptical Treatises 4, 22, 45–6,
153, 233 n. 76 47 n. 24, 114 n. 277, 153, 232,
Schofield, M. 14 n. 25 233 n. 78, 234 n. 81, 235 n. 88
science (epistêmê) 16–17, 19 n. 39, 49, Simplicius 185 n. 3
61, 99, 105, 107, 119, 129, 156 n. 8, Sirens 49
219, 229, 234–6 skeptical:
Second Sophistic 21 n. 41, 132 n. 24 ability 6–7, 9, 20, 215 n. 84
Sedley, D.N. 2 n. 6 disposition 121 n. 315
Seneca 15, 113 n. 272, 142 n. 56 enterprise 11
Sextus’ works: exercise 17 n. 33
Adversus mathematicos 4 fashion 220 n. 10
Against the Arithmeticians 12 n. 22, movement 6
19, 22, 28 n. 5, 34, 184 outlook 3–5, 79 n. 138, 126 n. 335,
Against the Astrologers 2 n. 4, 21, 28, 210 n. 64
34, 193–4, 214 n. 78 place 47
Against the Ethicists 3, 4 nn. 9, 12, practice 6
13–14, 114 n. 277, 166 n. 41 purpose 122
Against the Geometers 19, 21–3, 33–4, reasoning 122
51 n. 40, 154–5, 184, 193 science 19 n. 39
Against the Grammarians 3, 21–2, stance 19
26, 27 n. 3, 28, 30, 49, 139–40, skepticism 1, 5–6, 8, 10–11, 13 n. 24, 20,
183, 226, 233 93 n. 189, 215 n. 84
Against the Logicians 3–4, 13, 15, 22, skeptics 5, 9, 97 n. 208, 98 n. 212, 125,
26, 45 n. 19, 97 n. 207, 114 n. 277, 181 n. 69, 220 n. 10
120 n. 309, 166 n. 41, 195 n. 6, 203 Sluiter, I. 50 n. 35, 74 n. 127, 122 n. 315,
n. 39, 232 nn. 71, 73, 233 n. 74 135 n. 32
Against the Musicians 21–2, 28, 35, 71 Smith, A. 169 n. 44
n. 117, 81, 218–19 solecism 31, 64, 85, 92–4, 101
Against the Physicists 3–4, 13, 19, 22, Sophists 101 n. 223, 132, 156
27, 51 n. 40, 74 n. 124, 77 n. 130, Soranus 207 n. 54
82 n. 151, 114 n. 277, 115 n. 283, soul (psuchê) 24, 61, 63, 115, 118, 120 n.
116 n. 289, 120 n. 309, 123 n. 321, 309, 135, 185–6, 208, 221–2, 224–5,
136 n. 36, 155, 158 n. 17, 164 nn. 227–8, 231, 233
36–7, 165 n. 38, 166 n. 41, 169 n. sound (phônê, phthongos) 22, 35, 41, 47,
44, 175 n. 54, 176 n. 55, 182 n. 75, 49–50, 53, 63, 65, 69–70, 72–3, 209,
183, 190 nn. 21–2, 195 n. 5, 235 n. 221, 229–30, 232–4
88, 236 n. 93 Sparta 133–4
Against the Professors 4 Spartans 98, 106, 133, 221, 225
Against the Rhetoricians 21, 27 n. 3, speech 32, 41, 48, 51 n. 41, 73 n. 121,
32, 126–7 74 n. 127, 98 n. 209, 101, 128,
Empirical Treatises 2, 55 129 n. 14, 133, 139–43, 146–7, 150
Medical Treatises 2 Spinelli, E. 28, 200 n. 27, 203 n. 39,
On the Soul 5 n. 14 205 n. 46, 209 nn. 60–1, 210 n. 63,
Outlines of Pyrrhonism (PH) 1–11, 211 n. 68, 212 nn. 71–2, 213 nn.
14 nn. 24–5, 15, 17–18, 20, 22, 75–6, 217 nn. 88, 90
26, 40 n. 3, 46 n. 21, 49 n. 32, Spintharus 219
77 nn. 130–1, 79 n. 138, 82 n. 151, stars (planets, sun, and moon) 34, 121,
87 n. 167, 93 n. 189, 114 n. 277, 195, 199–202, 205–6, 208–9,
123 nn. 320–1, 125 n. 330, 158 n. 17, 211–12, 215–18
 INDEX
Stobaeus 109 n. 254, 110 n. 255, 111 n. tragedians 134, 223

264, 112 n. 269, 113 n. 272, 144 n. tragedies 94, 107, 108 n. 251, 113 n. 274
64, 228 n. 56 tranquility (ataraxia) 6–7, 9, 11,
Strabo 212 n. 72 13, 24
subsistence (hupostasis) 45–6, 62, 73, 75, trivium 15
93, 153, 186, 191, 229, 231, 233–4 Trojan War 215 n. 82
subtraction (aphaeresis) 34, 82, 84, 183, Trojans 49, 122 n. 318, 128
191–3 Troy 49, 65, 214, 215 n. 82, 226,
suspension of judgement (epochê, 227 n. 51
epechô) 6–15, 17 n. 33, 24, 46, Tyndareus 107
80 n. 144, 122 n. 315, 125 n. 330,
151 Verde, F. 178 n. 63
syllables 22, 30, 54, 55 n. 54, 60, verse 81, 83, 109 n. 254, 115 n. 283, 118
62 nn. 86–7, 65–6, 70–3, 83–5, n. 304, 166 n. 40, 183 n. 79, 185 n. 3,
234–5 234 n. 85
Syracuse 105 n. 241 Vitrac, B. 19 n. 38, 51 n. 40, 156 nn. 7–8,
Syrians 124 161 n. 26, 177 n. 57
Vogt, K.M. 7 n. 17, 14 n. 25
Tantalus 115 Volk, K. 198 n. 20
teachers 30, 41, 46–8, 50 n. 37 vowel (phônaen) 53, 55 n. 54, 64,
teaching 5, 20, 40, 42 n. 11, 43 n. 12, 47 65 n. 96, 66 n. 99, 67 n. 102, 68–71,
n. 24, 48, 52, 123, 132 n. 24, 138, 124 n. 325, 143
178–9, 216
Teiresias 115 n. 282 Wallace, R.W. 133 n. 26, 222 n. 21
Telecleides 223 n. 23 West, M.L. 111 n. 265, 219 n. 4,
Telegonus 108 231 n. 69, 232 n. 70, 234 n. 86
Terence 223 n. 22 wisdom 2 n. 6, 39–40, 109, 228
Thales of Miletus 133 n. 26 Woodruff, P. 14 n. 25
Thebes 53 n. 48, 79, 107, 118 n. 300 writers 31, 54–60, 63, 103, 109, 112,
Theiler, W. 56 n. 59, 63 n. 88, 66 n. 100, 118–19, 126, 136
111 n. 265, 135 n. 33, 147 n. 74,
220 n. 11 Zeno of Sidon 181 n. 69
Theon of Smyrna 161 n. 26, 185 n. 3 Zeus (Jupiter) 51, 65, 86, 89,
Theopompus 137 n. 40 90 n. 175, 111, 116, 117 n. 295,
Thetis 116 152, 201–2, 224
Thracians 55, 95 zodiac circle 34, 121, 195–7, 200,
Tiberius 2 202 n. 35, 209, 211
Timaeus 105 n. 241, 120 n. 307 zodiac sign (zôidion) 18 n. 36, 34–5, 121,
time-tellers 201, 206, 208, 210 195, 196 n. 9, 198–203, 205–6,
Tityos 115 208–9, 210 n. 63, 211–13, 215–16

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OUP CORRECTED PROOF – FINAL, 26/3/2018, SPi

Translated with introduction and notes by

List of Abbreviations vii

Sextus Empiricus: Against Those in the Disciplines

Persons Referred to in Against Those in the Disciplines 237

Bekker Sextus Empiricus, ex recensione Immanuelis

viii LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS

sive disciplinarum professores, libri VI, Contra

OCD S. Hornblower, A. Spawforth, and E. Edinow

1. Life and works

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

obscurity was not permanent. Since the revival of interest in antiquity in

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

However, one does not need to be an expert in these ﬁelds in order

2. Sextus’ Pyrrhonist skepticism

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

others. Timon’s writings have survived only in fragments, and the

¹⁵ For a brief account of the issues, see Bett 2014a.

and arguments exhibit oppositions among one another; there may be

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

is someone who is very good at accumulating opposing perspectives in

The effect of this activity, as Sextus concludes by saying, is tranquility

¹⁹ Of course, a further account would be needed of how this initial attainment of

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

to one another.²⁰ In any case, suspension of judgement is supposed to

contentions in the disciplines, oppositions that, because of their “equal

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

circles, etc.—the basic entities of geometry—do not exist (M 3.92), and

²¹ See also isologias, “equal arguments”, at M 1.144, referring to arguments of equal

wrong; the long stretches of negative argument in Against the Logicians

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

such uncompromisingly negative terms; perhaps they derive from an

4. Other notable features of M 1–6

²⁸ E.g. Athenaeus 184b, [Plutarch] On Music 1135d.

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

refer to a standard group of subjects in which a generally educated

explicitly said to be “more dogmatic” than he would like, and he seems to

³² I have discussed this further in Bett 2013, section 2.

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

basis of appearances; and it is the dogmatists’ claim to have penetrated to

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

I close with a brief look at three additional features of M 1–6 that

⁴⁰ Demades (M 2.16), Demosthenes and Aeschines (M 2.40), Corax (M 2.96–9).

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

⁴⁵ I have discussed this in more detail in Bett 2013.

an Epicurean source is detectable, but where usefulness or its absence is

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

physics, is tempered in a certain respect. The Epicureans do not claim to

⁵¹ This is a recurring theme in Epicurus’ Letter to Pythocles (DL 10.83–116).

Note on the Text

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

Other headings follow the schema in my Outline of Argument, immedi-

NOTE ON THE TEXT AND TRANSLATION 

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

⁵ Also to be mentioned here is the English translation of Against the Arithmeticians by

NOTE ON THE TEXT AND TRANSLATION 

Against Those in the Disciplines

d. General problems with the parts of discourse (131–41)

 SEXTUS EMPIRICUS : AGAINST THOSE IN THE DISCIPLINES

e. The lack of an expertise for reliably comprehending words

Book 2: Against the Rhetoricians

c. Suggestion that the other two parts are vulnerable to analogous

Book 3: Against the Geometers