Taurus of Beirut: The Other Side of Middle Platonism 1138186740, 9781138186743

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Taurus of Beirut

Federico M. Petrucci offers a lucid and fascinating overview of Calvenus Taurus, a thinker who played an important, and so far unnoticed, role in the history of post-Hellenistic philosophy. Through a fresh analysis of extant sources, he brilliantly shows that Taurus did radically reshape the coordinates of Platonism, especially in the fields of cosmology and theology, and at the same time makes a case for the existence of a distinctive methodological core of Middle Platonist exegesis. Written in a clear style and singularly rich in its conclusions, this book will certainly become a reference point for all interested in the philosophy of the Imperial age. Mauro Bonazzi, Università degli Studi di Milano, Italy/Utrecht University, Netherlands This book is the first monograph devoted to the philosophy of Taurus of Beirut, and will provide a long-awaited analysis of his texts and their first English translation. Through close examination of the extant witnesses, Petrucci gives a new account of Middle Platonism based on a fresh approach to the theological and cosmological view of Taurus. In this way, the book contributes substantially to the debate on Post-Hellenistic Platonism from the point of view of both exegetical methods and philosophical doctrines, and will prove a starting point for a new understanding of many aspects of ancient thought. Federico M. Petrucci is a Junior Research Fellow at the Department of Classics and Ancient History at Durham University, UK.

Issues in Ancient Philosophy Edited by George Boys-Stones, Durham University, UK

Routledge’s Issues in Ancient Philosophy exists to bring fresh light to the central themes of ancient philosophy through original studies which focus especially on texts and authors which lie outside the central ‘canon’. Contributions to the series are characterised by rigorous scholarship presented in an accessible manner; they are designed to be essential and invigorating reading for all advanced students in the field of ancient philosophy. Flow and Flux in Plato’s Philosophy Andrew J. Mason Forms, Souls, and Embryos James Wilberding Epicurus on the Self Attila Németh The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo Nilous Mark Wildish Taurus of Beirut: The Other Side of Middle Platonism Federico M. Petrucci

Forthcoming titles: Philosophy beyond Socrates’ Athens Ugo Zilioli Body and Mind in Ancient Thought Peter N. Singer www.routledge.com/Issues-in-Ancient-Philosophy/book-series/ANCIENTPHIL

Taurus of Beirut

The Other Side of Middle Platonism Federico M. Petrucci

First published 2018 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business  2018 Federico M. Petrucci The right of Federico M. Petrucci to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record has been requested for this book ISBN: 978-1-138-18674-3 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-64162-1 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Swales & Willis Ltd, Exeter, Devon, UK

For my parents and my sister

Contents

Preface Abbreviations Introduction 1 Taurus in context 2 Taurus on Plato’s cosmogony: Middle Platonism and literalism

viii x xi 1 26

3 Taurus’ cosmology: the other side of Middle Platonism 76 4 Taurus and Middle Platonist exegesis

146



Epilogue

198

Appendix: Taurus of Beirut: a new collection of texts with English translation Concordances Bibliography Index of sources Index of ancient names

199 250 251 268 284

Preface

A post-talk drink can provide pleasant conversation, pleasant beer, and sometimes (a not so pleasant) hangover. It may also happen, however, that it provides the idea for a book. In February 2015, after giving a talk in Durham, the idea of writing this book came to life at the Bridge Hotel pub in Newcastle, thanks to the encouragement of George Boys-Stones and Phillip Horky. I was already working on Taurus at that time, as a visiting researcher at the Faculty of Classics of the University of Cambridge, but I was not at all sure whether the material and ideas I had gathered were intriguing and rich enough to result in a book. I do hope that, as far as the decision to write this book is concerned, that English pub proved a wise advisor. From the preliminary research to the final writing stages I have been working on this book for some four years, enjoying the generous support of the Humboldt Foundation and the Institut für klassische philologie of the Julius-Maximilans Universität Würzburg, of the Scuola Normale Superiore of Pisa, and lastly of the Department of Classics and Ancient History of Durham University: I am grateful to these institutions for funding my research, and hope that this book will testify that their money has not been completely wasted. Some of the material in this book is featured in papers that have been published, or are going to be published, namely Petrucci 2015a, 2016a, 2018a, 2018b, and forthcoming. Of course, all material has been expanded and/or adapted to suit the narrative of the volume, and most of it is entirely new. During these years, I have had the opportunity to present some of the theses contained in this book at various institutions throughout Europe: I am grateful to all attendants to these events for their feedback. Many colleagues and friends have very kindly made forthcoming papers available to me, read either drafts or parts of this book, and discussed my views on Taurus and Middle Platonism with me. In particular, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Michael Erler, who constantly advised me during my stay in Würzburg, to David Sedley and Gábor Betegh, who kindly provided some fundamental insights during my visiting period in Cambridge, to Phillip Horky, who read a draft of my translations, and to George Boys-Stones, who read both some of my earlier works on Taurus and Middle Platonism and the final version of this book, for his illuminating suggestions. Alexandra Michalewski, Anna Motta, and my very dear friend Simone Seminara were so kind as to read drafts of Chapter 3,

Preface  ix and all have provided fundamental and encouraging feedback: I feel especially indebted to them. Of course, the responsibility for any claim, or misuse of the suggestions made by these scholars, is entirely my own. I am also grateful to Sergio Knipe, who helped me make my English more idiomatic, and to Elizabeth Risch, Rachel Singleton, and Geraldine Martin of Taylor & Francis for taking care of the production of this book. Finally, I wish to warmly thank my teachers at Pisa, Bruno Centrone and Mauro Tulli, whose long-lasting support is always an inspiration for me. During my fellowship at Pisa I had the pleasure to organise a reading group at the Department of Civiltà e forme del Sapere. I wish to thank the students who decided to devote some of their time to reading ancient philosophical texts, because in their self-rewarding commitment I have seen a reflection of my own passion for ancient philosophy: Angelica Russo, Arianna Piazzalunga, Beatrice Granaroli, Caterina Pavoni, Diletta Bertacchini, Filippo Leoni, Francesco De Matteo, Franco Arcamone, Giacomo Brioni, Giacomo Fidone, Giovanni Trovato (who also read the whole manuscript), Giuseppe Nastasi, Lorenzo Milano, Maria Letizia Capponi, Matteo Carducci, Nicole Tognocchi, Rosario Croce, Sara Provenzano, Silvia Martinelli, and Simone Stagi. This book is dedicated to my parents, who understood and supported my will to study ancient philosophy and enter the lottery of academia, and to my sister. Annalisa has been close to me – as always since we were teenagers – during all phases of development of this book (‘the wonderful Taurus’, as she usually refers to it with a wry smile), carefully checking my concerns and doubts, and patiently supporting me: to say that not a single page of this book could have been written without her is not rhetoric – so readers will know to whom address their complaints. Pisa/Durham, October 2017

Abbreviations

ANRW: Temporini, H. and Haase, W. eds, Aufstieg und Niedergang des römischen Welt. Geschichte und Kultur Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1972–1996. CPF: AAVV, Corpus dei papiri filosofici greci e latini. Firenze: Olschki, 1989–. LSJ: Greek-English Lexicon. Oxford: Clarendon Press (several editions). Sh-So: Sharples, R.W. and Sorabji, R. eds, Greek and Roman Philosophy 100bc–200ad. London: Institute of Classical Studies, 2007. SVF: von Arnim, H., Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta. Indexes by M. Adler, 4 vols.. Stuttgart: Teubner, 1903–1924.

Introduction

In recent decades studies on Middle Platonism have been increasing in number, and have progressively come to offer much in-depth knowledge about this puzzling philosophical movement. After some pioneering studies1 and editions,2 scholars have focused their attention on the (allegedly) most relevant thinkers (especially Plutarch), on key philosophical issues representing the core questions addressed in Middle Platonist writings, namely cosmological and theological ones, and finally on Middle Platonist ideology and exegetical methods.3 Nonetheless, given the number of authors who could be defined as ‘Middle Platonists’4 and the puzzling state of the sources informing us about them, a far from negligible number of thinkers is still understudied: a first issue yet to be addressed consists in properly appreciating the philosophy of these figures. At the same time, to provide a framework for these focused enquiries, a general question has been persistently brought up: is it really possible, or even legitimate, to consistently use the traditional historiographical category of ‘Middle Platonism’?5 Is there any actual hallmark positively distinguishing this movement from the Platonism of Plotinus and the Neoplatonists? Some scholars have regarded such a distinction to be merely artificial, and accordingly have suggested we speak only of Platonism, or Platonists.6 In response to this oversimplifying approach, two strategies have been set forth: either one can argue that the distinction – and, hence, the category of Middle Platonism as a synonym for ‘what follows the Hellenistic Academy and precedes Plotinus’ – is at least historiographically useful, and that, after all, with Plotinus something changes;7 or, more radically, one can attempt to detect a shared feature of Middle Platonist philosophy with the aim of identifying Middle Platonism as a philosophical movement recognisable on account of a (set of) doctrine(s) and/or having a specific philosophical identity.8 So, along with the more specific need to focus on many understudied philosophical figures, scholarship on the Platonist tradition needs to investigate a wider and more general puzzle, related to the very identity of Middle Platonism. The aim of this book is to contribute to both the former and the latter issue by focusing on a much understudied Middle Platonist, for a new appraisal of his texts can also lead us to better understand what Middle Platonism was – and what it was not. This Middle Platonist is, of course, Taurus of Beirut.

xii Introduction If one considers the balance between the quality and value of extant sources on Taurus and the attention paid to him by scholars, this author is for sure one of the most understudied Middle Platonists. It is not only a matter of editions of fragments and testimonies, which nonetheless need rethinking:9 as an Appendix to the book I provide a new collection of sources, based on new criteria and encompassing the first English translation of Taurus’ texts. The point is, above all, that a new philosophical discussion of Taurus’ philosophy is needed. After all, most recent and relevant enquiries10 still rely for the most part, at least in terms of their general outlook, on the very careful – but to some extent dated – entry in the Realencyclopädie by Karl Praechter (1934), on a note by Heinrich Dörrie (1973) mainly devoted to Taurus’ school activity, and on chapters about Taurus’ cosmogonic fragments (T26–27 in my collection) in more wideranging works, such as Matthias Baltes’ Die Weltentstehung des platonischen Timaios nach den antiken Interpreten (1976, at pp. 105–21) and John Dillon’s The Middle Platonists (1977, at pp. 237–47). This is particularly astonishing if one considers that these pieces of scholarship credit Taurus with a number of crucial methodological and philosophical achievements: Taurus is regarded as the standard-bearer of the sempiternalistic interpretation of Plato’s cosmogony; as the philosopher who demonstrated that a metaphorical interpretation of the Timaeus is most suitable and who consistently read the myth as a device of instruction and clarification (that is, according to the διδασκαλίας χάριν principle); and, finally, as someone who – at least to some extent – endorsed a reformed theory of the three cosmological principles (that is, God, matter, and forms). Moreover, extant testimonies on Taurus are exceptionally rich: Aulus Gellius provides many extensive testimonies on the life and school activity of Taurus, allowing us to set him within a specific period of time (c. ad 105–170) and place (he was born in Beirut and taught in Athens), while Philoponus quotes verbatim least three extensive texts by him (T26–27 and T30), allowing us to appreciate Taurus’ arguments virtually first-hand. In other words, Taurus is a flesh-and-blood Platonist, to whom we can safely ascribe a set of didactic strategies, texts, and philosophical claims, which are in turn available to us in a very good state. All this given, the first and most direct aim of this book is to reassess the extant sources and to draw a completely new picture of Taurus’ philosophy. I shall focus mainly on the philosophical issues addressed by Taurus, namely the cosmological and theological ones, and on the methodological features of his exegesis, while I shall confine to the first chapter a discussion of Taurus as a teacher of Platonism. This depends not only on the fact that this latter aspect is the only one that has been extensively discussed thanks to Marie-Luise Lakmann’s monograph; the point is, rather, that a fresh analysis of Taurus’ cosmological and theological texts will lead us to a new appraisal of Middle Platonism as a whole. As said above, the first chapter is conceived as an introduction to the realia we have on Taurus, his environment and his school activity, most of which are due to Gellius’ testimonies on Taurus’ work as an Athenian teacher of Platonism. However, these testimonies also tell us something more, for they foreshadow

Introduction  xiii Taurus’ conception of Plato’s text and authority and the way he fashioned the relationship between the philosophy of Plato and rival currents, especially Stoicism and Aristotelianism. This living picture of Taurus’ school paves the way for the three main chapters. The second chapter reassesses the commonplace according to which Middle Platonism was characterised, in terms of its cosmological doctrines, by the opposition of two strands of thought. According to this view, the Middle Platonist supporters of a temporal interpretation of Plato’s cosmogony (such as Plutarch and Atticus) favoured a literalist exegesis of Plato’s texts, while the supporters of a sempiternalistic interpretation systematically resorted to a strong de-literalisation and to a metaphorical reading of the Timaeus. Taurus has always been regarded as the standard-bearer of the latter group. My analysis will show that this traditional representation is misleading, for neither Taurus nor (a fortiori) other Middle Platonist supporters of the sempiternalistic interpretation applied – or regarded their own exegesis as – a metaphorical interpretation. On the contrary, Middle Platonists were in principle literalists, and the narrative of Middle Platonism can be told as that of a quarrel about the correct literalist interpretation of Plato and the suitable explanatory model for dispelling the alleged obscurity of Plato’s text. This conclusion has, of course, a huge impact on the traditional view, for Taurus turns out to be a very careful literalist exegete of the Timaeus, but also has a very important pay-off as to the overall conception of the Platonist tradition: given that Plotinus and the Neoplatonists did propose a metaphorical interpretation of the Timaeus, my analysis shows that the Middle Platonist movement as a whole was positively characterised by the adoption of a literalist principle of exegesis. The third chapter addresses another scholarly commonplace, according to which Middle Platonism is characterised by a commitment to craftsman-like divine causation, which both older and more recent studies have indeed regarded as a doctrinal hallmark of the movement. A close analysis of Taurus’ cosmological and theological claims shows that this reading, mainly based on Plutarch’s writings and Numenius’ and Atticus’ fragments, actually projects these philosophers’ views onto those of Taurus and the Middle Platonists who were influenced by him, especially Maximus of Tyre, Apuleius, and (above all) Alcinous. The representation emerging from this chapter is that of a complex debate on divine causation and, more generally, on the philosophical economy of a well-structured Middle Platonist cosmology. Plutarch, Numenius, and Atticus defended one side of Middle Platonism, while Taurus set the foundations for another side, whose doctrinal core was effective enough to be employed in the popularising works of Apuleius and Maximus and to be defended after Atticus’ attacks by Alcinous. The core of the philosophy of this new current relied on a non-craftsman-like conception of God’s causation, on a soft doctrine of providence, and on sempiternalism. It resorted to an alliance with Peripatetic doctrines in order to defeat its Platonist opponents, who established a strange yet long-lasting pact with the Stoics. The attempt to unify Middle Platonism with respect to cosmological and theological doctrines should be abandoned in favour of a much more fascinating and complex picture.

xiv Introduction So, doctrines cannot unify Middle Platonism – but methods can, as the fourth chapter shows. The recent research on Middle Platonist methods either regards Taurus as a central figure for certain notions – such as that of ‘ideological emendation’ – and ideas – such as that of a standard pattern applied by Middle Platonists when dealing with a Platonic passage – or completely leaves him aside, as in the case of the philosophical import and structure of Middle Platonist commentaries. I will show that, on the contrary, in many cases Taurus does not at all confirm scholarly commonplaces, which should be reassessed. At the same time, however, he is a very important witness when it comes to certain other puzzles, in relation to which his texts are usually not taken into account. The fundamental advantage of this analysis, expanding from Taurus’ texts to a wide range of Middle Platonist witnesses, is that it allows us to outline a comprehensive and consistent scenario revealing key recurrent features of Middle Platonist exegetical methods. Taking Taurus’ exegesis as a starting point, a new comprehensive and consistent representation of Middle Platonist exegetical methods will emerge, positively characterising Middle Platonism (especially with respect to Neoplatonism). All in all, by taking Taurus as our central focus, we will eventually achieve a new overall appraisal of Middle Platonism. And with this we come to the second and more general aim of the book, that is to discover, through the reconstruction of Taurus’ philosophy, a new identity for Middle Platonism. This explains the title of the volume. On the one hand, attempts to unify Middle Platonism by invoking cosmological and theological doctrines fail to grasp the complexity of the movement, which cannot be reduced to the doctrines of Plutarch and Atticus: for there is also another side to Middle Platonism, at least from the point of view of its physics, and this is the side established by Taurus. On the other hand, this does not imply that the category of ‘Middle Platonism’, which I have chosen to use in the title, can be dismissed, for if one focuses on exegetical methods, a unifying outlook will be seen to emerge, based on literalism and the application of a set of approaches to Plato’s text. And this outlook will allow us to effectively discover what Middle Platonism was as a whole, namely the intellectual space in which debate, argumentative disputes, and the appropriation of rival philosophies were exploited within a shared ideological and methodological framework. Just as Paul Klee’s Hauptweg und Nebenwege suggests, it would be unwarranted to oversimplify the complexity of chromatic paths, but this does not rule out that, from a more general point of view, the overall picture produced by them may be remarkably consistent. This book, then, offers a narrative leading the reader towards a full appraisal of a puzzling movement. But everything starts at Taurus’ Athenian home, in the 2nd century ad, during a lecture on Plato’s text.

Notes 1 E.g., Baltes 1976, Dillon 1977, Donini 1982. 2 Especially des Places 1973 and 1977.

Introduction  xv 3 Boys-Stones 2018 now provides (together with fresh analyses and translations) a full presentation of traditional and more recent scholarship. A wide-ranging survey of Middle Platonist philosophy will be provided by Irmgard Männlein-Robert and Franco Ferrari in a forthcoming volume (n.5) of the Grundiss der Geschichte der Philosophie (§ 48–72). 4 A new catalogue of Middle Platonists is now offered by Boys-Stones 2018, 593–617. 5 The category of Middle Platonism was coined in the 18th century by Jakob Brucker (1742) with the aim of distinguishing it from Neoplatonism, and became commonplace with Karl Praechter’s Die Philosophie des Altertums (1926). 6 See, e.g., Frede 1987, 1040, and Catana 2013. 7 See, e.g., Donini 1990, 81–83, and lastly Chiaradonna 2014a and 2015a. 8 See n.1 at p. 127 for references. 9 The first reliable edition only appeared in 1995 thanks to Marie-Luise Lakmann, while a second one was published (along with those of other Middle Platonists of the 2nd century ad) by Adriano Gioè in 2002: see pp. 199–203 below for a discussion. A new collection, with German translation, has recently appeared (Lakmann et al. 2017), but essentially relies on Lakmann 1995. 10 See Dörrie and Baltes 1998, 428–435 and 454–460; Ferrari 2012, 104–110, and 2015a; see also the recent survey in Lakmann et al. 2017, 238–248.

1 Taurus in context

This is the story of a man of the Roman Empire who committed his life to Platonism, a story that is, from our point of view as modern readers, almost unique in the Imperial age. The relevance of Taurus lies not only in the content of his doctrines and the import of his arguments, but also in the fact that these doctrines and arguments can be ascribed to a philosopher in flesh and blood.1 Indeed, extant sources allow us both to set Taurus’ activity within a specific space and time, and to draw a fascinating appraisal of his habits as a teacher of Platonism, of his didactic methods, of his acquaintance with other philosophies, and of his way of presenting Plato’s text and authority to his students.

Life and school A biographical sketch The Platonist Lucius Calvenus Taurus, a very distinguished master of Platonism in Athens, was born around ad 105 in Beirut. The sources apparently disagree about Taurus’ place of birth: many of them converge on Beirut (T1–3), while Philostratus (T4) and Pseudo-Hero (T25) respectively say that he was a native of Tyre and Sidon. However, there is no serious reason to think that Philostratus was directly acquainted with the figure of Taurus (he only mentions him as a teacher of Herodes Atticus), while the passage from the Pseudo-Heronian Definitions is likely to include unwarranted supplements by the Byzantine author who assembled the cento. On the contrary, the consensus of independent and quite authoritative witnesses, such as Hieronymous (T1), the Suida (T3) and above all a Delphian decree (T2), makes it almost sure that our Taurus was born in Beirut.2 The full name of Taurus is perhaps a more complicated issue,3 for T19.3 – as transmitted by the manuscripts – assigns him the name of Caluisius. The relevance of this testimony lies in the fact that it is offered by Gellius, a distinguished student of Taurus’, who would never have got his master’s name wrong. At the same time, however, an ‘official’ testimony such as the Delphian decree (T2) provides strong evidence for the name Caluenus. The puzzle is probably less complicated than it seems. First, given that T19 represents the only case in which Gellius refers to Taurus using his full name – for no apparent reason – it is quite plausible that

2  Taurus in context he did not really write it in full, but only inserted the abbreviated (and usual) form ‘C.’, which in the textual tradition was then erroneously rendered as Caluisius. This was already the (implicit) position of the editor of the Noctes Atticae, Peter K. Marshall (whose text I adopt in my collection), and it is widely accepted nowadays.4 Furthermore, wrong forms of the names of well-known people are far from rare in the text of the Noctes Atticae.5 In any case, the balance of evidence strongly suggests that the full name of our Platonist was Lucius Caluenus Taurus. A set of testimonies (T1 and T3–4) firmly assign Taurus’ life to the 2nd century ad. Although a more precise definition of Taurus’ lifespan and birth date is difficult to attain, it can be stated with a high degree of plausibility that he was born around 105 and lived at least until 165–170. The most precise source (T1) explicitly indicates the year of Taurus’ akme, that is 145, this implying that his birth date must be set around 105. This tallies well with a series of other pieces of evidence. First, being born in 105, he lived under the emperor Antoninus Pius (ad 138–161), during whose reign he reached the height of his career (T3). Second, this birth date allows us to regard Taurus as old and authoritative enough to be the Platonist teacher whom Gellius chose as his master during his stay in Athens (in the mid-2nd century),6 as well as the master of Platonist philosophy who taught Herodes Atticus (ad 101–177; see T4).7 Against the convergence of these sources, the traditional objection according to which Taurus must have been born some years before 105 because he was a student of Plutarch’s8 is very weak, for it is based on an unwarranted emphasis on the phrase Plutarchus noster occurring in T20.4: such use of noster does not imply any direct teaching relationship, but only high esteem and an acquaintance with Plutarch’s writings.9 At the same time, there is no real evidence to suggest a different time frame, for even T2, which is often regarded as inconsistent with the others, is not very helpful. Scholars have debated the date of this decree granting Delphian citizenship and special rights to Taurus and his family, especially because it is tempting to link it to the visit at Delphi that constitutes the framework of T21.10 However, it is hard to date this travel and, in addition, it has been correctly suggested that the decree may well have been issued much later than – and quite independently of – Taurus’ travel to Delphi.11 All this given, the agreement between unequivocal sources convincingly suggests that Taurus lived between ad 105 and 165–170. Taurus’ Athenian school What the Delphian decree does testify to is the distinguished reputation that Taurus enjoyed already in his own lifetime, a reputation that must have been linked to his activity as a master of Platonism in Athens. After Glucker’s seminal study on Antiochus, it is impossible to continue to regard Taurus as the head of the Athenian Academy – which indeed no longer existed at the time.12 Nonetheless, it is certain not only that he taught in Athens, but also that he was the point of reference (or, at least, a leading figure) in Athens when it came to the teaching of Platonist philosophy. This is the only possible explanation for the fact that distinguished intellectuals of Taurus’ age, such as Aulus Gellius and Herodes

Taurus in context  3 Atticus, not only wished to attend his lectures and – at least in the case of the former – be part of his closest circle, but are also recorded as students of his (see T4 for Herodes) or – as in Gellius’ case – are proud to have been taught by him (see, e.g., T8.1). Moreover, Gellius and Herodes must have been only the most successful among Taurus’ pupils, for Gellius’ description of Taurus’ school outlines a scenario in which many students attended Taurus’ lectures, although other options were in principle available to them,13 and despite the fact that Taurus was quite a stern teacher. Although Taurus regarded himself as a serious and strict master, his classes were full of people who, while aiming to become rhetors or politicians, wished to receive a philosophical education (see, e.g., T10–12). But Taurus’ reputation went even beyond the cultural élite: as T18 shows, the governor of the province of Crete went to Athens with the aim of getting acquainted with him.14 So, although Taurus was not the head of the Academy, he was definitely regarded as the Athenian teacher of Platonism, the one whom people wishing to learn about Platonist philosophy referred to, the head of the most distinguished school in Athens. All this given, there are good reasons to hypothesise that another important figure in the cultural world of the 2nd century ad, namely Apuleius, got in touch with Taurus. It has been widely acknowledged that strong clues suggest such an encounter:15 although Apuleius’ references to his philosophical studies in Athens (e.g., Flor. 18) are certainly a way for him to claim a Platonist pedigree and, as such, constitute rhetorical devices,16 it would be unreasonable to suppose that, in spending some time in Athens in the mid-2nd century and wishing to get acquainted with Platonist philosophy, he did not attend Taurus’ lectures at all. What has prevented scholars from pushing this hypothesis further is the apparent lack of substantial doctrinal convergences between Taurus and Apuleius.17 From a general point of view this argument is not compelling, for it may well be the case that Taurus’ teaching did not substantially influence Apuleius. Nonetheless, my analysis of Taurus’ cosmology strongly suggests that Apuleius must be placed on the same ‘side’ of Middle Platonism as Taurus (see pp. 91–96 below), which makes the possibility of Apuleius’ acquaintance with Taurus even more reasonable. Following an established practice, Taurus must have delivered his lectures and courses from home,18 for the governor of Crete was received there just after the lecture of the day had ended (T18.1–3). Taurus’ commitment to his students, however, was not confined to such activity, but took the form of regular philosophical sessions.19 All those who wished to be part of Taurus’ school (and, presumably, were admitted: see T11) attended his lectures (see, e.g., T12, giving a representation of this context). Each lecture was followed by a question time, in which all students could share their doubts with Taurus, or discuss various issues (T20.1–2) – this was not a distinctive feature of Taurus’ educational strategy, for question sessions were a standard practice.20 At that point most students would be sent away, but a selected circle of sectatores would be allowed to remain with the master and to enjoy a more intimate discussion with him: this is exactly the context in which the governor of Crete meets Taurus (T18.2). In addition, the closer circle of pupils – or, maybe, an even more restricted group21 – were often invited to dinner by Taurus

4  Taurus in context (T13 and T17). These were not just pleasant moments, for Taurus explicitly wanted his guests to prepare a set of questions and problems to be discussed (e.g., T13.1–4): accordingly, he regarded these common meals as further steps in the education he offered his students.22 The degree of contact between Taurus and the selected group of people surrounding him extended even further, as they would embark together on journeys of varying length (T19 and T21). As we shall see, Gellius’ testimonies are certainly literary in nature and serve a particular ideological aim, namely to present Taurus as an ideal teacher, opposed to other professional figures in the world of culture.23 Nonetheless, there is no reason to doubt that Taurus organised his teaching activity according to specific patterns of discussion, with a well-defined educational plan in mind. All in all, although Taurus was not the head of the Academy, his teaching activity was framed within the context of a properly organised philosophical school.

Taurus’ writings Taurus must have coupled such a thorough programme of teaching activity with extensive writing (see T3: καὶ ἄλλα πλεῖστα).24 Some of his works were commentaries on Platonic dialogues. The most famous one, the Commentary on Plato’s Timaeus (T26–31), consisted of at least two books (T30.3) and no doubt extensively dealt with many parts of the dialogue.25 Taurus’ Commentary on Plato’s Gorgias (T23–24) comprised at least two books, while very little evidence has been transmitted with regard to his Commentary on Plato’s Republic. From the puzzling T25, however, one can deduce that this work discussed at least book VI and/or book VII, in the context of which Taurus is likely to have focused on Plato’s definition of geometry.26 The same passage shows strong similarities with a section of the Anonymous Commentary on Plato’s Theaetetus (15.26–30), and this could make Taurus a good candidate for the authorship of this work; this would also imply ascribing to him the other commentaries to which the Anonymous refers – namely, those on the Symposium (70.5–12) and the Phaedo (47.45–48.11).27 Such hypothesis, however, has been effectively disproved,28 and the parallel has been explained by supposing either that both drew from the same source,29 or that Taurus quoted the Anonymous. So, Taurus wrote at least three commentaries, on the Timaeus, the Gorgias, and the Republic – which, however, does not imply that he did not deal with other Platonic writings too. As a matter of fact, the sources clearly reveal not only a close acquaintance with many dialogues30 – as one would expect – but also a thorough and focused interest in many sections of these texts (e.g., Pausanias and Alcibiades’ speeches in the Symposium – T11–12 – or Lysias’ speech in the Phaedrus – T11).31 It is noteworthy, however, that Taurus was also particularly keen to produce texts of a different kind, namely treatises on specific philosophical topics, which he discussed in relation to the positions of other schools. Taurus’ entry in the Suida (T3) indicates two of their titles, namely On the Difference between the Doctrines of Plato and Aristotle and On Bodies and Incorporeals. The former has been the object of much speculation, ranging from the idea of an anti-Aristotelian

Taurus in context  5 treatise on the model of Atticus’ polemical work against the use of Aristotle in the interpretation of Plato,32 to the opposite one, crediting Taurus with a conciliatory view of the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle, on the model of Porphyry’s On the Disagreement of Plato and Aristotle.33 Although Taurus’ approach to Aristotle can only be determined after an evaluation of the content of available sources, the transmitted title of the treatise is telling in itself: while the title of Atticus’ work clearly entails a polemical aim, Taurus’ implicitly suggests that there are points of contact between the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle – for otherwise pointing out the differences between them would be meaningless. This does not imply either that Taurus’ position was similar to that of Porphyry, or that Taurus was directly acquainted with all or a fair number of Aristotle’s writings: as Atticus’ case shows, even harsh and focused criticism could be based simply on school material.34 Rather, from the title of this text it may cautiously be inferred that Taurus was fairly interested in Aristotle’s philosophy, that he was acquainted in one way or another with what he took to be Aristotle’s doctrines, and that he detected both points of contact and divergences between Aristotle’s philosophy and Plato’s.35 Considerable speculation has also been sparked by the latter title, On Bodies and Incorporeals. Some have regarded it as a treatise on categories,36 given that Nicostratus based his polemics against Aristotle on the distinction between intelligibles and bodies (13T); others have associated it with the traditional discussion on the incorporeality of qualities, on the model of Alcinous’ discussion in the eleventh chapter of the Didaskalikos or of the pseudo-Galenic treatise De qualitatibus incorporeis;37 finally, it has been suggested38 that in the work in question Taurus criticised some Aristotelian doctrines, such as the theory of the soul and the fifth body, again on the model of Atticus’ polemical treatise. Now, in the light of Alcinous and the Pseudo-Galenic treatise,39 it is likely that to some extent Taurus’ piece of writing chiefly engaged with Aristotle’s Categories. Further, yet dim, confirmation of this might come from the puzzling (and often disregarded) T7, revealing at least that Taurus wrote a treatise that could have been helpful for a Platonist reader of the Categories. This would not imply that Taurus agreed with Aristotle’s doctrine,40 but that he was at least acquainted with it and paid attention to it. Such interest would not be astonishing, considering that the Categories is among the Aristotelian writings that received the closest consideration from Middle Platonists (such as Eudorus, Nicostratus, and Lucius) and pre-Alexander Peripatetics.41 In this case too, however, we have very little possibility of avoiding mere speculation, and the most we can do is to acknowledge that Taurus must have felt the need to endorse the existence of incorporeal and transcendent entities (as the mention of an ideal paradigm in text T26.13 indicates), and that he was interested in Peripatetic philosophy. Be that as it may, Taurus’ writings were characterised by a wide-ranging interest in the debate with other schools. This also clearly emerges from Gellius’ testimonies on Taurus’ ethics, highlighting Taurus’ critical position with respect to the Stoics.42 While, as said above, the polemic against Aristotle in the treatise On the Difference between the Doctrines of Plato and Aristotle must have been limited, we know that Taurus wrote at least one text explicitly criticising

6  Taurus in context the Stoics: in T21.5 reference is made to a book on the inconsistencies to be found in Stoic doctrines, both in themselves and with respect to those of Plato. Although the passage concerns Stoic ethics, it is not clear whether the text was limited to this field, that is, whether Taurus wrote a treatise against the Stoic ethics or against Stoic philosophy as a whole. The idea of such a piece of writing is not astonishing at all, if one considers that already Plutarch (whose writings Taurus was to some extent acquainted with: see T20) provided very good models of such polemical treatises. Given the obscurity of the contents of this treatise, it cannot be excluded that the reference to Taurus’ treatment of the theme of anger in ipsius commentariis, which is found in T20.3, implies that Taurus also wrote a specific treatise on the issue.43 However, it has been convincingly suggested44 that Gellius is referring here to the same anti-Stoic treatise that is mentioned in T21.5, a part of which could have reasonably been devoted to the issue. Of course, the theme of the wise man’s anger – i.e., of the possibility for a wise man to get angry – would be very suitable for such a treatise, and the following lines of T20 indicate that Taurus was interested in approaching the issue by demonstrating the contradictions implicit in the ideal of ἀοργησία and ἀναλγησία. However, even if this were the case, it is perfectly plausible that Taurus wrote more than one antiStoic treatise, or that he attacked the Stoics in different writings (just as Plutarch had done before him).

Taurus as a teacher of Platonism Taurus the man The picture of Taurus emerging from Gellius’ testimonies is that of a committed teacher who is as strict with his students as he is helpful, and who endorses an (allegedly) old-fashioned conception of philosophy. He is a master who always seeks to provide students with good moral standards and to correct their misconceptions and wrong behaviours, both within and outside the school. It is not by chance that Taurus seems to always distance his school from the surrounding social environment, whose habits he criticises. On the one hand, the philosophy teachers of Taurus’ day are represented as being interested only in getting money from rich pupils, whose servants they are willing to become (T8.5). On the other hand, students themselves have lost all respect for their teachers, waste their time (ibid.), wish to follow study programmes based on the wrong inclinations and interests (T11.8–11), or commit to philosophy just for the sake of improving their rhetorical skills, while ignoring the moral purpose of this education (T10–12). By observing and criticising this condition, Taurus wants his students to follow the example of Euclides of Megara – who risked his own life to discuss important issues with Socrates (T8) – and to regard philosophy as a sacred discipline, just as the Pythagoreans did (T11). He urges them to understand that philosophy is a goal in itself, and that it is unworthy to regard it just as a means to improve the skills they wish to employ in everyday life (T10). So, Taurus proposes a positive moral standard, which he himself embodies, opposed to common harmful habits. While

Taurus in context  7 affirming the need for purification and for a strict selection of students, he claims responsibility for their moral improvement: by attending his school, students are not just receiving a specific education, but trying to become pure and fit for a worthy life (T11). This is the reason why Taurus’ teaching and his pupil’s studying must be far removed from the pursuit of any economic advantage. Both the teacher and his students must be committed to moral improvement through continuous contact: the teacher is responsible for this improvement and for a correct development of the educational programme, while the students must reciprocate this effort by following their master’s teachings (T8). This is the deep reason for Taurus’ severe corrections: he indicates the correct interests and kinds of company for his students, and thereby enters all aspects of their life (e.g., T9); he harshly criticises moral mistakes because they are unjust in themselves – that is, regardless of any connection they may have with philosophical doctrines (T10); he exploits all occasions for dialogue by giving examples of sober living and conversation (T13.1–4 and T17); he is aware of the social context he lives in, but at the same time he is not impressed by political power and always gives priority to the moral correctness of social behaviour (T18 and T22); and, finally, he is very careful in assisting his friends as well as his pupils, especially when they are sick or in trouble (T19 and T21.1–3). All in all, therefore, Gellius’ Taurus is primarily a moral example, a teacher interested more in the ethical progress of his pupils than in the conveying of specific doctrines.45 The picture is not quite as clear-cut as that, however, for although Gellius’ testimonies provide the exceptional opportunity for us to steal a glance at a flesh-and-blood teacher delivering his lectures, it should never be forgotten that Gellius has his own agenda and ideology, which inevitably affect his portrayal of Taurus.46 In Gellius’ strategy, Taurus embodies the prototype of the ‘good intellectual’ in a world in which cultural professionals are to be condemned for their tendency to live in an ivory tower.47 This means that Gellius’ representation lays particular stress on certain features of Taurus’ figure, namely his helpfulness and openness to students, and his commitment to being not only a specialist of philosophy, but also and above all an outstanding ethical example. If we add to this Gellius’ disinterest in specific philosophical disciplines – such as cosmology and logic48 – we are compelled to consider Gellius’ testimony as a strongly biased and partial one. It is not by chance that many of Taurus’ most commendable traits (such as his frugality in T17.2, or the condemnation of mutual complaints in T16, or the discussion on anger in T20) strongly comply with either a traditional representation of the wise man or with moralistic commonplaces.49 Similarly, the recurrent ascription to Taurus of an interest in rhetoric clearly complies with Gellius’ own inclinations (I shall get back to this point in the next section). This does not amount to denying that Taurus wanted to be a moral leader, or that his teaching was (also) meant to improve the moral level of his students; rather, it is likely that the exceptional degree to which Taurus applied this approach is a product of Gellius’ imagination, and that Taurus simply conformed – however systematically – to the standard behaviours of a good teacher of philosophy in the Imperial age. After all, the focus

8  Taurus in context of the teaching of philosophy at this time was indeed on ethics, from which it follows that it is exactly an ethical model that students sought when attending philosophical lectures.50 Moreover, Taurus has to deal with a common condition for a teacher of philosophy, that is the need to educate students in their mid to late teens who, after having attended courses in grammar and rhetoric, must spend some time in a philosophical school before embarking on a career.51 So, the teacher of philosophy is primarily meant to guide young men in their journey to adulthood and, because of this social role, his status is widely acknowledged, even at an institutional level.52 At the same time, however, philosophy is a special subject, for it concerns happiness and the good life: emphasising this aspect, just as Taurus does, is a common practice among teachers of philosophy in the Imperial age.53 All in all, if we strip Gellius’ portrayal of its likely apologetic and ‘ideological’ aspects, we obtain the picture of a typical philosophy teacher of the Antonine age, albeit an outstanding and very renowned one. Taurus on rhetoric, medicine, and mathematics Whatever its biases, Gellius’ portrait remains very important in this context, since it provides substantial evidence both of Taurus’ teaching activity and of his social standing, as well as of his exegetical and philosophical work. But there is also more to it, for the material Gellius introduces sometimes features specific aspects that do not contribute to his apologetic representation but that are nonetheless revealing of Taurus’ intellectual interests, of his use of Plato’s texts, of his appeal to Plato as an authority, and of the way he dealt with the doctrines of other schools. First, in his portrayal of Taurus, Gellius focuses on episodes in which our Platonist shows (or seems to show) a specific interest in disciplines other than philosophy, or which are related to philosophy in a peculiar way – namely, rhetoric, medicine, and mathematics. Rhetoric Given Gellius’ own interests, it is not surprising at all that priority is given to Taurus’ treatment of rhetoric.54 At the same time, given that most of Taurus’ pupils must have studied rhetoric in view of pursuing a public career, it is likely that Taurus was really committed to establishing a special relation between philosophy and rhetoric for, after all, this was also a straightforward way of emphasising the specificity and excellence of philosophy.55 What is difficult, however, is to determine Taurus’ actual opinion about this discipline. Now, it has usually been said that Taurus’ position in the quarrel between rhetoric and philosophy amounts to a condemnation of rhetoric in favour of philosophy, and that Gellius essentially rejects this position, an instance of this being his attempt to translate Symposium 180e4–181a6 into Latin, although Taurus encouraged him to focus on the philosophical content of this section (T12.7–9).56 However, it is likely that Taurus’ view was much more complex, for a closer look at the testimonies shows that he regarded rhetoric as having been expressed at best – and, hence, with a positive

Taurus in context  9 value – by Plato. The clearest evidence of this paradoxically comes from T12 itself. Although after reading the Symposium passage Taurus urges the rhetoriscus Gellius to go beyond the stylistic veneer of the text in order to grasp its philosophical content, he acknowledges the perfection of the way in which Plato composed it.57 Plato’s writings are excellent pieces of rhetoric, this excellence consisting on the one hand in their deep philosophical content and, on the other, in their very form, exceeding all other rhetorical compositions. Significantly, Gellius sees no contradiction between Taurus’ statement in this testimony and his own choice to translate the same passage (T12.7–8):58 Taurus does not wish to condemn the idea of a stylistic analysis of Plato, but only to specifically define its boundaries and value. Such an approach to rhetoric is confirmed by other texts. In T10 we find Taurus criticising a young man who has passed from the study of rhetoric to that of philosophy because he has attempted to justify some unspecified shameful action of his by claiming that other people too have done the same thing.59 In his reproach Taurus invokes a passage of Demosthenes’ Adversus Androtionem (7), which was often celebrated for its formal arrangement,60 but which also contained an effective criticism of the wrong justification given by the young man. However, Demosthenes’ authority is introduced as a sort of second best: given that the young man is not well acquainted with proper philosophical speeches condemning his kind of behaviour, he might have even invoked the content of Demosthenes’ passage, which, however, the young man considers only from a formal point of view. In other words, Taurus criticises in any case a superficial reading of speeches that have a good rhetorical form, but this does not imply a condemnation of the rhetorical form itself. Moreover, if we assume – as it would be very reasonable to do – that the philosophical authority Taurus is referring to here is Plato, we can also grasp Taurus’ view on the traditional ‘competition’ between Plato and Demosthenes: Demosthenes’ speeches too have some ethical content, and of course they are formally excellent, but Plato’s writing is vastly superior to them both in terms of ethical content (which is what matters the most, of course) and in terms of style.61 The praise of Plato’s style has been regarded as unusual in the context of Middle Platonism, in the light of the idea of the obscurity of this style, which is sometimes said to make it difficult to have direct access to the doctrines.62 However, these issues concern two different levels. The problem of Plato’s obscurity to some extent concerns the Platonists’ exegetical strategies and is often evaluated (and solved) with respect to the readers’ skills and to specific contents, especially cosmological ones.63 On the other hand, the evaluation of Plato’s style in its pure form is a more general and ‘technical’ issue, whereby Plato’s way of writing is considered as a whole and contrasted with the style of rhetors. When regarded in such terms, the idea of Plato’s rhetorical excellence may be seen to conform to an extensive tradition64 – and indeed it occurs in Middle Platonist writings. As one would expect, the value of Plato’s style is emphasised and praised by those thinkers who, being sympathetic to Platonist views, have specific interests in rhetoric, such as Apuleius and Maximus. The former opens his handbook of Platonism (I 185–188) by claiming that Plato’s

10  Taurus in context outstanding contribution to philosophy is not limited to doctrines, but also extends to their systematisation and fashioning into a proper rhetorical form.65 In Apuleius’ view the good philosopher is also a good rhetor, that is one who exercises the worthy and beneficent rhetoric (contemplatrix bonorum) and avoids the bad one, which is the adulandi scientia.66 Maximus of Tyre, on the other hand, stresses this point even more, stating that Plato’s style is, mutatis mutandis, even more valuable than that of Homer (Or. 11.1; see also 17.3–4), who is in turn the best poet (17.5). Interestingly enough, this way Maximus is not isolating purely formal features from philosophical content: even Homer is a philosopher to some extent, precisely because he discusses serious issues with a suitable and harmonious style (26.1–4).67 Rhetoric is the art of properly articulating conceptions (37.3), and a good rhetorical discourse is one that is both elegant and capable of stimulating virtue (on this see the whole Oration 25). Maximus, then, seems to (perhaps superficially) parallel Taurus’ idea that Plato’s rhetorical excellence lies in the combination of a formally perfect style and deep philosophical content: just as for Apuleius, the ideal rhetor for him is the philosopher.68 It is noteworthy, however, that positive evaluations of Plato’s style can also be found in the writings of fully committed Platonists. A good example is provided by Plutarch. From a general point of view, while reporting Cicero’s opinion, he upholds the idea of Plato’s divine style – the one that Zeus would use if he had to speak.69 More specifically, in the Quomodo adulescens poetas audire debeat he first (26B) indicates Plato as a common stylistic example, but then (35F) he clarifies that agreement with the doctrines of Plato (and Pythagoras, in this case) is a parameter to measure the correctness of poetical compositions.70 In other words, it is a well-established Middle Platonist idea that Plato’s style is excellent, although this conception, differently from non-philosophical evaluations of Plato’s style, is systematically linked to the philosophical contents of Platonic dialogues.71 Taurus, then, proceeds in keeping with this Platonist trend, which assigns a clear priority to philosophy over rhetoric, and to Plato over all rhetors, without denying the value of rhetoric, but ascribing the highest value to philosophy and Plato from the point of view of both form and content. Medicine Taurus is often credited with a specific interest in medicine on the basis of T15 and T19.72 After all, interest in medicine was quite widespread in the early Imperial age, and Gellius himself often discusses medical matters, although this interest is neither technical nor independent of higher concerns: a broad competence in medicine, acquired through handbooks, was required in order to complete the encyclopaedic composition that Gellius was writing, embodying a good cultural model.73 This is also the reason why excessive emphasis on Taurus’ commitment to medicine would be unwarranted, for the very sources apparently testifying to it are rather meant to build up an apologetic representation of the Platonist teacher. T15 is basically a discussion of a section of the Pseudo-Aristotelian Problemata74 concerning the somatic manifestations of shame and fear. While Gellius seems interested in the physiological problem in itself, Taurus’ reply aims to make the

Taurus in context  11 explanation consistent with the ethical status of these passions. In other words, Taurus’ interest in medicine depends on the contribution this subject can provide to ethical enquiries. Similarly, the discussion of the correct names and functions to be ascribed to veins and arteries in T19 is not particularly telling from a technical point of view: such a distinction, in its traditional form, is an ancient and well attested one,75 which was reinterpreted by Galen.76 It is not by chance that the correct distinction between the two is known not only to Taurus but also to his sectatores (T19.5), who are presumably less well-educated than him. At the same time, the real background of the passage is essentially moralistic: Taurus is much less interested in technical distinctions – that is, in theoretical and abstract problems – than in the fact that the sick Gellius is properly restored to good health. Such an approach fits well with the scene represented in T21.2–3, where Taurus, visiting a sick friend of his, has a brief talk with the doctors taking care of the man: also in this case, the key element in the passage is the representation of Taurus’ interest in his friend’s condition and his concern for him to receive good care, while a proper interest in medicine is not at issue. All in all, medicine is a sort of ancillary interest for Taurus, who was not a medical expert, but at most someone who had received a broad education in the field. In this sense, Taurus’ acquaintance with medicine may confirm the idea that superficial medical knowledge was required for Platonists in order to understand the last pages of the Timaeus,77 which Taurus is likely to have treated in his Commentary:78 as confirmed by Galen’ complaints, this section of the dialogue was rarely commented upon, and in an improper and superficial way from a technical point of view.79 Mathematics On the basis of T11 it has also been suggested that Taurus may have been specifically interested in mathematics.80 Indeed, Taurus’ complaint about the lack of suitable preliminary knowledge in mathematics on the part of his students does reveal some interest in this field: Taurus’ pupils are strangers to contemplation, music, and geometry (ἀθεώρητοι, ἄμουσοι, ἀγεωμέτρητοι), which makes their access to philosophical studies even more difficult. However, this is probably not enough to state that Taurus was particularly keen on mathematics in itself. In Platonist schools it was certainly important for students to be acquainted with a specific kind of mathematics, namely the set of mathematical notions that were crucial in order to understand certain passages of Plato’s dialogues. Allowing students to become acquainted with such notions was one of the aims of Platonist technical exegeses, such as Theon’s Expositio: Theon assumed that his readers had received some basic education in mathematics, and made some specific mathematical references, yet without the aim of discussing mathematics in truly technical terms (Exp. 1.1–2.3).81 It is important to note that, following Theon’s example, being interested in some mathematical sections of Plato’s dialogues does not imply having any real mathematical knowledge: the Expositio heavily draws upon previous sources, and contains technical mistakes that clearly testify to Theon’s poor acquaintance with advanced technical literature.82 In other words,

12  Taurus in context even assuming that Taurus ascribed to mathematics the same value as Theon, this would not imply that he was really interested in mathematics in itself. It is also worth noting that no interpretation by Taurus of Plato’s ‘mathematical sections’ is to be found in the later tradition, and that the mention of the definition of geometry in T25 – even admitting that geometry is really at issue here83 – entails no technical element, but rather refers to Plato’s use of geometry in the Meno in order to define knowledge in itself. All in all, ascribing any specific interest in mathematics to Taurus – that is, any interest beyond the standard exegetical commitment to certain basic notions – would be unwarranted. Aristotle, the Stoics, and Taurus’ ethics Among the recurrent features of Gellius’ portrayal of Taurus’ teaching there is an attention to rival schools, namely Aristotle and the Peripatos on the one hand, and the Stoics on the other. Indeed, Taurus often seems to introduce specific puzzles by providing more or less extensive historiographical overviews of the opinions of other philosophers, which are treated without any particular prejudice. This clearly emerges from T16, where it is very likely that the reference to Theophrastus was part of Taurus’ treatment of the problem of mutual complaints,84 and from T14, where Taurus expands on a traditional outline and explores many accounts of pleasure before introducing Plato’s one.85 Such an approach is not only confirmed by extant sections of Taurus’ commentaries (esp. T26 and T27, but also T23.5: philosophi alii), where his discussions are prefaced by an overview of other philosophers’ opinions, but is also implicit in other testimonies: in T13 Plato’s account of the moriendi momentum opens with a reference to the fact that also grauissimi philosophorum enquired into the issue, and a similar approach is applied to the problem of anger in T20, where it is said that solutions can be found in ueterum libris.86 In these cases it would be odd to take Taurus to have simply hinted at different solutions, or doctrines, in the presence of his students but to have then dismissed the whole issue: it seems much more likely that Gellius only summarised the main passages of Taurus’ explanation, being in principle more interested in providing an overall image of this Platonist teacher than a detailed presentation of his teaching. Accordingly, in his lectures Taurus must have regularly referred to other schools and paid attention to them by drawing a more or less close comparison with the doctrines of Plato. Of course, the most important issue is to discover the role that Taurus ascribed to Plato in this comparison, which will be the object of the next section. However, extant testimonies also allow us to grasp some recurrent tendencies in Taurus’ treatment of rival schools. Aristotle and Theophrastus must have been frequently invoked by Taurus, and without any pre-defined attitude. In principle, texts by Aristotle can even provide immediate solutions to philosophical puzzles, as in the case of T9: a passage of the Problemata enkyklia (Aristot. fr. 209) seems to feature a self-sufficient, albeit aphorismatic, ethical argument against the habit of having intercourses with artists. It is noteworthy, however, that in this case Taurus is specifically looking for

Taurus in context  13 a brief and pithy text to be sent to one of his pupils, for only this kind of text can easily be read through every day: in all likelihood, then, the preference for this Aristotelian passage has to do with this destination. It is not by chance that if the treatment of a philosophical problem becomes more complex, albeit often with reference to Aristotelian or Peripatetic positions, Taurus emphasises the need for a more in-depth analysis. This must have been the case in the lost development of T16, where Taurus probably proposed Theophrastus’ views on mutual complaints but then independently elaborated on the issue,87 and above all in T15.3, where Aristotle’s solution to the problem of the manifestations of shame and fear is explicitly said to be misleading, albeit basically true, for it does not really detect the cause of these phenomena (cur ita fieret, non dixit). In other words, Aristotle and the Peripatetics are the object of a fair and open-minded treatment, on the one hand acknowledging the correctness and effectiveness of the quoted texts and doctrines, but on the other frequently claiming the need to supplement them – that is, with Platonist doctrines.88 Taurus’ approach to the Stoics is quite different, for he explicitly claims to disagree with them in principle (T21.5: me autem scis cum Stoicis non bene conuenire). This clearly emerges when Taurus addresses ethical issues.89 As is evident and has often been noted, all we know about Taurus’ ethics suggests a strong affinity with a well attested Middle Platonist view, which draws upon the Peripatetic doctrine of μετριοπάθεια against the Stoic idea of ἀπάθεια.90 According to T20–21, Taurus made his case by stressing the fact that the Stoic indifferents were relevant for happiness (T21.7–12), and that the passionate and sensible components of the human soul cannot be eliminated, but only placed under the control of the intellect (T20.10–11 and T21.13–14). A more specific argument is the one concerning ἀναλγησία and ἀοργησία, which also appears in Plutarch’s criticism of Stoic ethics.91 What is of interest to us, however, is the way in which Taurus frames his discussion in the wider debate on the topic. First, as is evident in T20, Taurus regards the doctrine of μετριοπάθεια as a purely Platonist one, crediting Plutarch with a valuable discussion of it: although Taurus’ acquaintance with Peripatetic material makes it highly plausible that he was aware that Aristotle and the Peripatetics also agreed on this view, he was not prepared to regard Aristotle as its coiner or main champion.92 At the same time, T21 clearly points to the identity both of Taurus’ opponents, namely the ancient Stoics, and of his ally, namely Panaetius: the two are respectively associated with a wrong doctrine of ἀπάθεια and an emended ethical doctrine based on moderation in the passions. Scholars have disputed the range of the reference to Panaetius,93 but understanding Taurus’ presentation of the issue is a different matter, for the problem is rather what doctrines Taurus ascribed to Panaetius, and why. The fundamental point here is that Taurus approaches the problem of the status of pain – and, more generally, of the indifferents – in Stoic ethics with a specific aim, that of emphasising the self-contradictions of Stoic ethics and their differences compared with Platonist doctrine, and by specific dialectical means, namely by impersonating a Stoic philosopher expounding Stoic teaching (T21.5–7). Indeed, the initial outline provided by Taurus can be regarded as fairly Stoic: immediately after birth, man

14  Taurus in context is deprived of reason, but is able to pursue some specific goals by nature; then, when reason arises, it gains control of man’s behaviour, and at this stage a clear distinction of ethical values emerges, whereby virtue is the only good, vice the only evil, and the indifferents in-between are divided between προηγμένα and ἀποπροηγμένα (T21.7). Only at this point does Taurus introduce an apparently non-Stoic element, namely the idea that a child, before reason comes into play, necessarily experiences pleasure and pain, preferring the former and avoiding the latter (T21.8). Such an idea is inconsistent with ancient Stoicism,94 and it is disputable that representatives of the so-called Middle Stoa, especially Panaetius, endorsed it.95 This claim, however, may well be regarded as a straightforward deduction from the previous outline, running as follows: if reason intervenes at some point, then the perception of pleasure and pain must play a substantial role in determining a child’s behaviour; it follows that even when reason is established as the leading faculty, it cannot really eliminate such feelings, but only moderate them; but this is in contradiction with the idea of pleasure and pain as something indifferent, for reason will always have to struggle against them. As further proof of the fact that Stoic ethics entail this paradox, Taurus re-introduces the example of his sick Stoic friend, embodying the fight of reason against what the Stoics call the indifferent (T21.11–12). In other words, Taurus is just developing his own argumentative programme as indicated at the beginning of his speech: he speaks as a Stoic because he takes Stoic premisses as his starting point; he speaks clearly because he explicitly draws all implications from these premisses; and, of course, he highlights the internal contradictions of the Stoic doctrine. All in all, Taurus’ argument entails a strict condemnation of Stoic ethics from the point of view of its self-consistency. There is also more to it, however, for Taurus admits that a kind of reformed Stoic ethics can be consistent and suitable, and this is the case with Panaetius’ farewell to ἀπάθεια96 (T21.10). Such a move has a very important pay-off, since it allows Taurus to emphasise that even a leading figure in the Stoic tradition acknowledged the internal shortcomings of traditional Stoic ethics and tried to solve them by approaching a ‘Platonist’ option, that of μετριοπάθεια. In other words, what Taurus is attempting to achieve is to set a ‘self-consistent’ version of Stoicism, that of Panaetius, on the same path as the Platonist tradition. This is confirmed by the final part of the text, which distinguishes between two kinds of fortitudo (T21.13–14): one consists in traditional ἀπάθεια, the other in the science rerum tolerandarum et non tolerandarum, which coincides with μετριοπάθεια and is said by Taurus to have been endorsed by maiores nostri. It has been correctly claimed that Taurus is here referring to Plato himself, who is identified as the developer of a consistent ethical doctrine.97 Nonetheless, given the praise of Panaetius’ rethinking of Stoic ethics, it is likely that Taurus regards at least him too as one of these thinkers: the ideal of μετριοπάθεια was discovered by Plato, but it was then endorsed even by non-Platonists, who understood that this is the only suitable ethical model.98 All in all, leaving aside the question of the possible sources from which Taurus drew his ethical doctrine,99 two facts clearly emerge. First, Taurus does not criticise the Stoics a priori, but carefully examines their

Taurus in context  15 doctrines and tries to supplement them in order to highlight the need for a conversion to Platonism: this reasonably leads him to acknowledge a certain superiority of the Middle Stoa with respect to the Athenian one.100 Second, even when a Stoic is credited with a good insight, this is good only in as far as it agrees with a Platonist doctrine. If this analysis is correct, one can also outline a comprehensive representation of Taurus’ view of the development of the history of philosophy after Plato: no doctrine or school is condemned a priori or per se; rather, all doctrines are evaluated both according to their internal consistency and with respect to a higher philosophical standard, coinciding with Plato’s philosophy. In this sense, Taurus’ reasoning is based on a three-way comparison,101 entailing a thorough consideration of both Stoicism and Aristotelianism but always establishing the philosophical priority of Platonism: Taurus is open both to harsh criticism and to appropriation, provided that these strategic operations imply an acknowledgement of Plato’s authority. Plato at Taurus’ school As we have seen, in Taurus’ perspective the history of philosophy after Plato can be regarded as a constellation of philosophical views that are neither all good or bad, but which deserve constant evaluation with respect to a standard of correctness, which in turn coincides with Plato’s doctrine. If applied in too simplistic a way, such a principle risks slipping into blind dogmatism: why should Plato represent a standard for the correctness of other philosophies? And to what extent can Plato’s doctrines in each case be compared with those of other schools? In order to effectively answer such questions, Taurus seems to have adopted a complex approach to the issue of Plato’s authority. As we have seen, it may be the case that a correct doctrine is ascribed – to some extent – to a post-Platonic philosopher, as in the case of Panaetius’ μετριοπάθεια (T21.10). If we assume – as is reasonable – that Taurus was also aware of Aristotle’s approval of this theory,102 he may have regarded this doctrine as having been coined and positively endorsed by Plato and then recovered by a number of thinkers, especially Aristotle and Panaetius. Whether we suppose that Taurus also claimed some specificity for Plato’s μετριοπάθεια, or assume that this ‘Platonic’ doctrine was recovered in its entirety by other thinkers, Plato’s priority is established, for what is correct in the ethical speculations of Aristotle and Panaetius is just what Plato had already formulated. Given Plato’s chronological priority, then, Taurus can establish a line of positive continuity in the tradition (see again T21.13: maiores nostri), to which a series of mistaken doctrines – such as that of Stoic ἀπάθεια – is opposed. This model also has the advantage of admitting the possibility of a post-Platonic philosopher recovering just one aspect of Plato’s doctrine: this is the case emerging, for instance, from T15, where Aristotle’s Problemata correctly provide a physiological explanation for a phenomenon, which however finds its origin in the Platonic definition of shame as ϕόβος δικαίου ψόγου.103 In other words, post-Platonic philosophers

16  Taurus in context provide only part of an account that is contained in its entirety – and according to the best possible formulation – in Plato’s dialogues, whence it spread to different schools. When viewed from the opposite angle, this principle suggests that in some cases Plato produced the correct doctrine but no post-Platonic philosopher was clever enough to recover it. This emerges from T13, where Plato is the only philosopher who, standing above the disagreements of his successors (T13.8–9: alii . . . alii . . .), provided an effective solution to the puzzle of the moriendi momentum.104 However, there is one source that testifies even more clearly to the effectiveness of this representation: T14, on pleasure. Gellius proposes a list of definitions and descriptions of pleasure.105 The list encompasses all kinds of views, from hedonistic to very rigoristic ones.106 Each of them is clearly defined, while Plato’s opinion is presented in a very different way (T14.7): Before them, however, Plato talked in such a versatile and many-sided way about pleasure that all the judgements I have just set forth seem to have flowed from the spring of his writings: indeed, he invoked each of them – just as the nature of pleasure itself, which is multifaceted, suggests, and as the grounds for the causes he considers and the cases he wants to make require. The nature of Plato’s account is such that it contains a multifaceted, complex, and complete discussion of pleasure, and Plato implemented this approach to such an excellent degree as to exploit all possible perspectives on the issue. This does not imply that Plato did not endorse any specific definition; however, grasping the correct definition is not easy, and Plato’s approach leaves room for misunderstanding, so that one might wrongly adopt a definition that Plato detected, but did not actually endorse. This mechanism of recovery of Platonic teachings is precisely what lies at the basis of subsequent philosophical formulations: all definitions of pleasure that can be found in post-Platonic philosophy flow from Plato, but only Plato’s complex yet consistent account is philosophically effective.107 Interestingly enough, this is nothing but a specific version of a widespread Middle Platonist representation of the history of philosophy after Plato, namely the one that was employed in the post-Hellenistic age in order to dismiss the application of the argument from disagreement.108 Such an idea of Plato’s philosophy has at least two fundamental consequences, shedding light on Taurus’ conception of Plato’s authority and texts. First, Taurus’ representation of a multiplex Plato (T14.7), while set on a well-established ideological path,109 is framed within a complex account of Plato’s dialogues and their polyphony. Indeed, Plato’s dialogues encompass a number of views on relevant problems, carefully articulated in order to adequately illustrate their underlying reasons and nature; some of these views, possibly when combined, exploit Plato’s own doctrine, while in other cases they are meant to represent alternative and possible – if wrong – treatments, which in any case may have some philosophical import with respect to Plato’s characters. Taurus thus makes the most of the dialogic nature of Plato’s writings, and paves the way for an analysis of them that takes into account the specific aims and dialogical function of each passage. Extant

Taurus in context  17 testimonies confirm that this general representation was systematically applied by Taurus. The fact that he paid special attention to Pausanias’ speech (T12), arguing that beyond its perfect rhetorical form a philosophical content must be detected, clearly indicates that he was willing to make the most even of characters other than Socrates, the Eleatic stranger, or Timaeus.110 This implies, in turn, that each section was regarded as having its own specific function and place within the structure of Plato’s writings, a function whose discovery and explanation was the main task of Platonist teachers and exegetes. Another interesting piece of evidence is provided by T24, where we find an application of the same approach – probably within the framework of a written commentary.111 Callicles’ criticism is neither plainly accepted in all its aspects – especially when it comes to its target, that is Socrates – nor entirely rejected as coming from an unworthy character. Rather, the very fact that Callicles is morally unworthy is exploited in order to make the most of his criticism: Plato wanted him to outline the picture of a bad philosopher because only in this way could he effectively illustrate how bad philosophers are perceived by common people (T24.24: homines . . . male feriati, quos philosophos esse et uulgus putat et is putabat, ex cuius persona haec dicta sunt). In other words, a specific criticism is ascribed to a specific character because this is the best way for Plato to effectively make his case against bad philosophers. If this analysis is correct, we also have a very effective key to understand Taurus’ attack against a random reading of Plato’s dialogues in T11. This passage can be taken as a witness of the Middle Platonist classification of dialogues and establishment of a reading order – indeed, this was quite an important aspect of Middle Platonist exegesis and school activity.112 The first point to emphasise is that Taurus here is neither referring only to a general classification of the dialogues (of the sort reported by Diogenes Laertius in III 57–62), nor only to a reading scheme. Taurus’ criticism concerns two aspects: first, the fact that one should follow a specific order (but not necessarily a fixed and pre-determined one) when reading Plato’s dialogues; second, that each section of each dialogue serves a very specific philosophical function, which, however, can only really be understood within the framework of a correct reading of the corpus. Also the references in the same text (T11.9) to Alcibiades’ carousing and Lysias’ speech are far from casual, since they clearly explain the logic and aims of Taurus’ perspective, for the dialogues from which these passages are drawn, namely the Symposium and the Phaedrus, were sometimes condemned for their allegedly immoral content.113 Taurus’ reply to such an accusation would be, then, that a negative evaluation simply depends on the mistaken approach to these texts, from the point of view both of their place within the correct reading order and of their proper philosophical interpretation. Just as in the case of Callicles’ criticism against philosophers (T24), one could well expect Taurus to have been able to explain the philosophical aim that Plato was pursuing by inserting these ‘immoral’ sections in the Symposium and Phaedrus; but his explanations could only be understood after proper training, in terms of both previous readings and the exercising of philosophy. So, while it is not informative with respect to the reading order that Taurus adopted – and the dialogues this encompassed114 – T11 sheds light on a much more important principle: the fact

18  Taurus in context that between the various dialogues, and even between the various sections of the same dialogue, there exists a sort of thematic relationship, which Plato planned and arranged by exploiting several devices, from the rhetorical construction of his text to the choice of characters. So, the task of a master of Platonism is to lead students along the paths carefully traced by Plato. These, of course, are not only literary paths but also educational ones, since by following them students will obtain what the dialogues are primarily meant to ensure, namely a happy life. This leads us to the second point, concerning the possibility of referring to Plato’s writing even outside the context of an in-depth reading of a dialogue. Indeed, some of Gellius’ testimonies reveal a peculiar use of Plato as a source of good solutions for specific philosophical problems. This is clearly the case in T13, where a passage of the Parmenides (152d) is singled out as a solution to the general philosophical problem of the moriendi momentum. A similar strategy is applied in the discussion on the solidification of liquids in T17: although Gellius does not explicitly say so – and, maybe, neither did Taurus in the original context – the proposed solution, according to which faciliora ad coeundum uidentur, quae leuatiora leuioraque sunt (T17.15), depends on a passage of the Timaeus (59d).115 But Plato of course is also an authority on ethical problems, for instance with respect to the definition of the notion and aims of punishment, as emerges from T23, or in the establishment of correct ways to enjoy communal drinking, as the reference to the first two books of the Laws in T22 shows. An even clearer instance is offered by T15, where Aristotle’s physiological explanation of the manifestations of shame and fear is supplemented with the introduction of a definition of shame that, once again, depends on Platonic passages: for Plato is certainly among the philosophi to which Taurus ascribes the definition he is proposing in this text.116 It is even more interesting that, according to the historiographical scheme I have just outlined, Taurus must have regarded Plato as the coiner of the authoritative definition of shame, which, however, other philosophers too adopted:117 it is precisely because this definition carries such authoritativeness that it is important to find physiological confirmation for it. So, Plato is regarded as a true and always compelling authority, whose opinions require no integration or correction – differently from Aristotle or the Stoics, as we have seen. This applies, moreover, to all fields of thought: after all, the reference to Platonic passages in T13, T15, T17 and T22–23 covers the fields of logic, physics and ethics.118 We can at this point picture ourselves sneaking into Taurus’ classroom as the philosopher is delivering an introductory lecture in which he explains why, and how, one should study Plato. We would first hear from him that Plato is the sole philosopher for whom one can justifiably claim the status of an authority: Plato stands above all other philosophers because he discovered and illustrated all one can say concerning some substantial philosophical problems, both providing positively effective solutions and highlighting – and implicitly refuting – mistaken views on these issues. Indeed, all other dogmatic philosophers, such as Aristotle, the Stoics, or Epicurus, only recovered parts of Plato’s system, in an either consistent or inconsistent way. We would then witness the kind of demonstration of Plato’s authority that we would expect from a Middle Platonist, one opposing

Taurus in context  19 the argument from disagreement through the claim that Platonism has a special status with respect to all other schools. However, the most intriguing part of the lecture would be the following one, where Taurus would support this point in exegetical terms, emphasising that the richness of Plato’s philosophy as a whole is reflected in his dialogues: their unitary polyphony allows Plato to ascribe to suitable characters specific cases to be made, whose intrinsic intertwining and comprehensive plan outline a complete, complex, and articulated philosophical system. Each section of a dialogue is both thematically complete, so that it can serve as a self-standing solution to given philosophical problems, and programmatically related to a number of other passages; and if readers correctly follow the paths traced by Plato, no doubt they will reach what they are looking for, that is the principle of the happy life.

Notes 1 As correctly noted by Opsomer 1997a, 235, a similar condition applies also to Plutarch – but it does not, I would add, to any other relevant Middle Platonist. 2 At the same time, it would be hard to claim (as Brucker 1742, 169, did) that there were three different philosophers called ‘Taurus’, one being our Taurus, another the teacher of Herodes (cf. T19, linking him to our Taurus), and another still the author of a Commentary on Plato’s Republic (T25). 3 See Gioè 2002, 286–288, and Lakmann 2016, 714–715, for a critical survey. 4 See, e.g., Lakmann 1995, 182–184. 5 See Holford-Strevens 1988, 227. 6 See Holford-Strevens 1988, 9–11. The actual collocation of Gellius’ stay is controversial, but it could hardly precede the 147: see Gioè 2002, 285–286, for a critical overview. 7 See also T19, with Lakmann 1995, 180–182. 8 See, e.g., Dillon 1977, 237–238. 9 See Holford-Strevens 1988, 209 n.82, and Lakmann 1995, 228 n.77. Taurus’ acquaintance with Plutarch’s writings is indeed attested, for T20 itself contains a reference to a treatise on anger (reasonably Plutarch’s De cohibenda ira). Holford-Strevens 1988, 68 n.41, and Lakmann 1995, 34, suggest that Taurus is drawing on a thematic doxography, but do not rule out the possibility that he may have been acquainted with Plutarch’s writings. 10 See Lakmann 1995, 207–208, and Gioè 2002, 285–286, for an overview. 11 See Holford-Strevens 1988, 12. 12 See Glucker 1978, 128–151, against an idea that had been suggested, e.g., by Praechter 1934, 58, and Dillon 1977, 237–238 – and which is still endorsed by Heutsch 2011, 257. On Athenian Platonist teachers see also Kalligas 2004. 13 See also T11.8–11, where Taurus complains of other masters’ attitude towards their students, and T22, portraying a self-professed Platonist philosopher at an Athenian banquet. 14 As correctly noted by Gioè 2002, 315, this rules out the possibility that the governor may have been a former pupil of Taurus (as suggested by Dillon 1979, 69). To some extent, Gellius may have wanted to emphasise this episode, since politicians’ visits to philosophers were typical testimonies of a thinker’s prestige (see, e.g., Epict. Diss. 1.11.1; 3.7.1 and 3.9.1) and were usually regarded as important educational moments (see, e.g., Plut. Max. cum princ. 776A–779C, with Dörrie and Baltes 1990, 188). 15 See, e.g., Dillon 1977, 306 and 377; Holford-Strevens 1988, 224; and above all Gersh 1986, I 221–222.

20  Taurus in context 16 See Fletcher 2014, 32–33. 17 Gersh 1986, I 221–222, for instance, only detects some broad affinities as to the doctrine of the elements. 18 See, e.g., Luc. Herm. 11, with Lynch 1972, 175, and Glucker 1978, 153. It is noteworthy, however, that this was a free choice of a teacher, since other places for public teaching (such as Agrippa’s Odeion) were available: see Dörrie and Baltes 1993, 138. 19 See the careful reconstruction provided by Lakmann 1995, 216–220. 20 See, e.g., Plut. De E 385A and Rect. rat. aud. 42F–43B; Porph. VP 13.9–15. It cannot be excluded that Gellius’ tale is to some extent fictional and based on a literary topos (Holford-Strevens 1988, 68), aiming to emphasise Taurus’ availability and commitment to philosophical discussion. Nonetheless, given how common this practice was, and that – as we shall soon see – Taurus used to continue to discuss things with his pupils even after this question time, there is no reason to rule out that Gellius is describing a real educational moment. 21 The distinction between common students and a closer circle of pupils is of course traditional (see, e.g., Iustin. Dial. 2.4, on the Pythagoreans): it is also attested, for instance, in relation to the schools of Herodes Atticus (Philostr. Vitae soph. II 10) and Plotinus (Porph. VP 7.1–10). 22 Of course, parallels can be detected with many examples of sympotic literature, which is a well-established genre from the Classical and Hellenistic ages (with Plato’s Symposium and Epicurus’ work of the same title) to the Imperial period, especially with Plutarch’s Table Talks (see esp. Lakmann 1995, 72–74, for an overview, and Roskam 2009 for a comparison with Plutarch). Nonetheless, it is important to note that this aspect is more related to Gellius’ way of presenting Taurus: Gellius’ reports are indeed pieces of sympotic literature, but the dinners at Taurus’ place were essentially a specific step in his students’ education, and nothing suggests that Taurus recorded these dinnertime conversations as pieces of sympotic literature. 23 See Vardi 2001, and pp. 6–8. 24 See Lakmann 1995, 210–211, and Gioè 2002, 290–293. 25 On the extension and typology of Taurus’ (and other Middle Platonists’) commentaries see pp. 173–183 below. 26 The fragment is controversial from a number of points of view (on its text see p. 248 n.20), and even the real object of Taurus’ discussion is uncertain. As a matter of fact, the definitions ascribed to Aristotle and Zeno seem to be more suitable to a note on ἐπιστήμη, and it has been supposed (Tarrant 1984; Bastianini and Sedley 1995, 500, follow this interpretation) that the excerptor who assembled the Definitions wrongly introduced a reference to geometry. However, Mansfeld 1983 had effectively made sense of the fragment by taking geometry as a special and telling case for the definition of science (see also Gioè 2002, 342–346, for an overview). In this sense, although no certain solution can be reached, Mansfeld’s explanation is much more economic, for it does not require the hypothesis of the excerptor’s interpolation. Be that as it may, the passage of Taurus’ Commentary may have found a suitable place in the section about the central books of the Republic as a way of introducing a discussion on geometry as a mathematical science or on knowledge. 27 The Anonymous also refers to a Commentary on Plato’s Timaeus (30.11), which would fit with what we know about Taurus. However, given that commenting on the Timaeus was a very widespread practice in Middle Platonism, such a coincidence could hardly constitute evidence in favour of the attribution of the anonymous text to Taurus. 28 See the arguments pointed out in Bastianini and Sedley 1995, 249 (the Anonymous does not incorporate in his ethics the doctrine of μετριοπάθεια in an Aristotelian fashion, while this was key for Taurus: see pp. 12–15) and 255 (the Anonymous, as is widely known, quotes Meno 98a3–4 in 15.18–23 with an isolated mistaken lectio, αἰτίᾳ λογισμοῦ, while Taurus knew the correct lectio, as T25 indicates).

Taurus in context  21 29 See, e.g., Dörrie and Baltes 1993, 205 n.3. 30 Tarrant 1996, 185–186. 31 It is not by chance that Taurus is on record in T5 as being among the χρησιμώτεροι of those who τὸν μὲν Πλάτωνα ὑπομνηματίζουσι. At the same time, it is noteworthy that the list that follows also includes Platonists (such as Gaius and Albinus) who are not credited as having written any real commentaries (see Gaius 7–8T, and Albin. 6T), so that it is likely that this source more generally bears witness to Taurus’ commitment to the exegesis of Plato. 32 See Praechter 1934, 61; Dillon 1977, 239; Lakmann 1995, 224, and lastly Griffin 2015, 201 (who, however, does not provide any new argument in support of this view). 33 See Dörrie 1973, 26. 34 See the discussion on this issue at pp. 104–110. 35 This point granted, it is impossible to establish what the focus of the treatise might have been: all hypotheses are mere speculation (see, e.g., Dörrie 1973, 26: the treatise discussed the theory of forms and that of categories). 36 E.g., Praechter 1934, 61, and Barnes 1993, 143. 37 It has also been suggested (Praechter 1934, 62) that this treatise was the source of some passages in Gellius’ Noctes Atticae (e.g., V 15, corpusne sit vox an ἀσώματον). Such discussions were common (Holford-Strevens 1988, 69–70), however, and the association rests on weak grounds. 38 See again Praechter 1934, 62. 39 See Boys-Stones 2018, Chapt. 3 note 5, for an overview. 40 See Barnes 1993, 143 n.44. 41 See above all Chiaradonna 2009a and 2013b, and Griffin 2015. 42 See especially T21.5 (me autem scis cum Stoicis non bene conuenire uel cum Stoica potius), but also pp. 116–118, on Taurus’ cosmological model. 43 Gellius’ use of the word commentarius is ambiguous and does not refer to actual commentaries: see Swain 2004, 162, and p. 194 n.111 below. 44 See Holford-Strevens 1988, 698 n.41, and Lakmann 1995, 34. 45 This is the overall representation emerging from Lakmann 1995. 46 See Gersh 1986, I 199–207; Holford-Strevens 1988; Blumenthal 1996; Opsomer 1997a, 239–240; Vardi 2001 and 2004. 47 See Vardi 2001. 48 See Holford-Strevens 1988, 192–193. 49 For the commonplace of the wise man’s frugality (T17.2) see, e.g., Plut. Sept. Sap. Conv. 150C and Riginos 1976, 123; see also Lakmann 1995, 150–152, who correctly emphasises that Taurus is thus set in contrast to luxury-loving intellectuals, who are frequently represented in the Imperial age. On the literary background of the theme of the wise man’s anger see Holford-Strevens 1988, 68, and Lakmann 1995, 30–34. 50 See Trapp 2007a, 10–13, and Lauwers 2015, 121–124. On the idea that the teacher of philosophy must set an ethical example, see, e.g., Plut. Lib. educ. 1D–3F, and Max. Tyr. Or. 1.9; on a teacher’s commitment to the education of pupils even beyond philosophical teaching proper, see Plut. Recta rat. aud. 43D–45D; on his openness to criticism see ibid. 46C–47B; on the peculiar status of philosophy as an educational device, see Max. Tyr. Or. 2.1–2. 51 See Marrou 1957, 242–291, and Clarke 1971, 55–90. 52 See Digest. XXVII 1.6.8, with Bowersock 1969, 33, and Millar 1977, 491–506, and recently Dillon 2002a. 53 And this is reflected in writings aiming to serve an educational purpose: see, e.g., Sen. Ep. 76.1–4; Max. Tyr. Or. 1.7. On all this see Trapp 2007a, 18–23, and, with a special focus on Platonic schools, Tarrant 2007a. 54 Engert 2011 insists on this point, but probably pushes it too far, to the point of almost completely depriving Gellius’ testimonies on Taurus of any reliability. 55 On the ‘quarrel’ between philosophy and rhetoric see now Lauwers 2015, 15–40.

22  Taurus in context 56 See, e.g., Gersh 1986, I 212; Lakmann 1995, 115–119 and 178; Karamanolis 2007, 376. 57 For a stylistic analysis of the Platonic passage see Lakmann 1995, 170–172. 58 Interestingly, the translation of Platonic passages is an important exercise for Gellius: see, e.g., the title of the lost section VIII 8. See also Noct. Att. II 5, where Favorinus’ praise of Plato’s style is taken up. 59 Dörrie 1973, 30, claimed that the young man’s wrongdoing consists in his conversion to philosophy. This is quite a meaningless reading, and relies on a mistaken understanding of the passage, for the sentence quod factum quiddam esse ab eo diceret inhoneste et improbe has nothing to do with the young man’s turning to philosophy. 60 See, e.g., Theon Progymn. 64.11–17 and Quint. V 14.4. 61 The ‘competition’ between Plato and Demosthenes is indeed a traditional theme (see the survey provided by Lakmann 1995, 173–175), which is also attested elsewhere in the Noctes Atticae (in III 13), albeit independently from Taurus. In claiming a priority for Plato’s eloquence over that of Demosthenes, Taurus follows in the path of a wellestablished tradition according to which Plato was Demosthenes’ teacher: see, e.g., Hermipp. fr. 72, Cic. Brut. 121, De or. I 89, De off. I 3–4; Apul. Apol. 15; see also Dörrie and Baltes 1990, 369–376. 62 This is, for instance, the position of Lakmann 1995, 175–176. 63 See pp. 57–61. 64 See, e.g., Cic. Brut. 121; Quint. X 81 (quis dubitet Platonem esse precipuum, siue acumine disserendi, siue eloquendi facultate diuina quadam et Homerica); Ps.-Long. Subl. 13; Dion. Hal. Demosth. 5.1–5, on Plato’s style in general, which is excellent since it represents μῖγμα ἑκατέρων τῶν χαρακτήρων, τοῦ τε ὑψηλοῦ καὶ ἰσχνοῦ, καθάπερ εἴρηταί μοι πρότερον, πέϕυκε δ’ οὐχ ὁμοίως πρὸς ἀμϕοτέρους τοὺς χαρακτῆρας εὐτυχής (albeit sometimes being less refined and clear), and esp. 23.10–14, reporting the idea that Plato’s language is so excellent that if Zeus had to speak, he would do so in Plato’ language. It should be noted, however, that Dionysius, along with other thinkers (especially Peripatetics, such as Demetrius, fr. 170, and Dicearchus, fr. 42), also critically emphasised that sometimes Plato abandoned a good simple style for an over-elaborate one. See Dörrie and Baltes 1990, 376–377, for an overview, and n.67 just below, for a comparison between Plato’s style and Homer’s. 65 See esp. De Plat. I 185: Verum cum se Socrati dedisset, non solum ingenio atque doctrina Socraticos ceteros uicit, uerum etiam labore et elegantia inlustrauit sapientiam ab eo sibi traditam: labore, quo adserere eam nisus est; elegantia, per quam uenustate et maiestate uerborum ei plurimum adhibuit dignitatis. See also Apol. 49, where Plato is praised for his caelestis facundia. 66 See Hijmans 1987, 461–463. The echo of Gorgias 463a–d is blatant. 67 The comparison between Plato and Homer from the point of view of style is traditional as well: see, e.g., Dion Prus. Or. 36.26–27 (who however establishes that, while all are ἐρασταί of Homer, only a few are ἐρασταί of Plato), and Quint. X 81 quoted in n.64 just above, and Dörrie and Baltes 1990, 382–390, for an overview. 68 See the extensive discussion by Lauwers 2015, 181–192. 69 See n.64 above for parallels. 70 This also explains why in other passages Plutarch seems to condemn the evaluation of Plato on the sole basis of his style: for instance, in Quomodo quis suos in virtute sentiat profectus (79D) he says that Plato’s style tells us nothing about philosophical matters, and for this reason it is better to leave it aside. The point must be, rather, that it is unwarranted to evaluate Plato’s style as though it were disconnected from his doctrines. 71 This view is also fundamental in Longinus’ Platonism: see Männlein-Robert 2001, 73–86. 72 See, e.g., Holford-Strevens 1988, 224. 73 See Heusch 2011, 252–256, on Gellius’ references to medicine.

Taurus in context  23 74 This passage (Aristot. fr. 243) is not attested in the work as transmitted to us. Interestingly, book XIX of the Noctes Atticae is rich in references to the Problemata; see Lakmann 1995, 192 n.6. 75 It probably stretches to Praxagoras, but is later attested, e.g., in Cicero (Nat. deor. II 138) and Plinius (Nat. Hist. XI 219). 76 In the writing An in arteriis natura sanguinis contineatur; see also De usu part. VI 16. 77 See Donini 1982, 122–124. 78 See T30.5, and pp. 176–178. 79 See PHP VIII 5.13–16 and 6.57. 80 See Lakmann 1995, 16–24. 81 On Theon’s Expositio and its exegetical nature see Petrucci 2012a, 48–62 and passim. 82 See Petrucci 2012a, 40–43, for an overview, and Petrucci 2010 for a specific case (on Exp. 75.15–25). 83 See n.20 in the Appendix. 84 See Holford-Strevens 1988, 69 n.47 and 201; Gioè 2002, 322. 85 See Sext. Emp. Adv. Math. XI 73, with Lakmann 1995, 100–113. The possibility of ascribing the contents of the whole passage to Taurus has been disputed (e.g., by Holford-Strevens 1988, 80). Nonetheless, Lakmann 1995, 98, is right in noting that the final position in which Taurus’ opinion is quoted strongly suggests that he is also the source of the whole passage (see also Gioè 2002, 334–338). Moreover, we do know that Taurus was very interested in ethical themes, and he remains the most probable source for such views in Gellius. The fact that Plato is credited as lying at the origins of all following views, including the hedonistic ones, far from militating against an ascription of the passage to Taurus (see Tarrant 1996, 187–193, who suggests Favorinus as Gellius’ source), is perfectly consistent with Taurus’ Platonism: see pp. 15–19. 86 Lakmann 1995, 157, suggests that the same perspective is applied in T17, for the theory of semina is of Peripatetic or Epicurean origin. In this case, however, there is no reference to such background whatsoever, and the evidence is at best very weak. 87 Unfortunately the content of the eighth book of the Noctes Atticae is lost: see Lakmann 1995, 95–97. 88 Interestingly, such an attitude is perfectly in keeping with Taurus’ use of Peripatetic cosmology: see pp. 104–110. 89 On Taurus’ ethics see also the surveys by Dillon 1977, 240–242, and Lakmann 1995, 146–149. 90 This is correctly regarded as a cornerstone of Middle Platonist ethics: see Donini 1982, 111–113; Michalewski 2015, 220; Boys-Stones 2018, Chapt. 18. 91 See Virt. mor. 445A and 452A–B, together with De ira (see Opsomer 1997a, 237–238). 92 This is true also in relation to the specific issue of the evaluation of ἀοργησία, to which the Peripatetics assigned the virtuous middle position with respect to ὀργή in the context of the debate with the Stoics: see esp. Becchi 1990. 93 Gioè 2002, 231, is the latest among many supporters of the idea that Panaetius is the source of T21.8–10, while in Alesse 1997 only T21.10 is isolated as Panaetius’ test. 84 (see Gioè’s commentary ad loc. for further references). 94 The Stoic doctrine of οἰκείωσις conflicted with the Epicurean idea of man’s natural inclination to pleasure: see, e.g., SVF III 136, 178 and 182, and Diog. Laert. X 137. 95 See Alesse 1997, 216–224. 96 This does not imply that Panaetius really did revolutionise Stoic ethics – in general, the contrary seems to be the case, as effectively shown by Tielemann 2007; nonetheless, it is likely that Taurus had this view about Panaetius, whom he regarded as much closer to Platonism than earlier Stoics. 97 See Lakmann 1995, 144–145. 98 The doctrine of μετριοπάθεια is moreover at the basis of T23, on the Laws.

24  Taurus in context 99 Drawing on the reference to ‘seeds’ (T21.7), it has been suggested, in quite a speculative way, that Taurus here is drawing upon the ethics of Antiochus of Ascalon: see Moreschini 1978, 140–141, partly followed by Holford-Strevens 1988, 68–69. However, the reference to ἀοργησία and ἀναλγησία, together with Taurus’ terminology and overall perspective, suggests that he is rather influenced by Plutarch, as suggested by Becchi 1990, 83 (to be read also for a survey of Plutarch’s theory of ὀργή and ἀοργήσια) and stated by Opsomer 1997a, 237–238 – although I do not share his view that such agreement also implies a wider convergence on cosmological issues, as Chapter 3 will show. 100 This picture, moreover, fits well with Gellius’ overall sympathy towards the Middle Stoa: see Holford-Strevens 1988, 202–207, and Heusch 2011, 356–369. 101 On the basis of T11 it has been argued that Taurus was also particularly interested in Pythagoreanism (see, e.g., Lakmann 1995, 27, and 164, where the scholar detects Pythagorean elements in the scene depicted in T17). Indeed, it is likely that Taurus – like most Middle Platonists – favourably regarded the Pythagorean-Old Academic tradition, but nothing allows us to consider this as a key commitment of his: after all, the reference to Pythagorean purification in T11 is just a means to affirm the importance of a fixed educational programme, while nothing indicates that Taurus would have agreed with the precise model he ascribes to the Pythagoreans. On Gellius’ broad interest in Pythagoreanism see Holford-Strevens 1988, 193–195 – it is noteworthy that Gellius probably regarded the Pythagoreans to be the forerunners of Plato: see, e.g., Noct. Att. III 17. 102 This does not imply that Taurus was directly acquainted with Aristotle’s writings, for the commitment to μετριοπάθεια – and its opposition to Stoic ἀπάθεια – is a recurrent feature of the Peripatetic tradition: see the repertory of texts and the commentary in Sharples 2010, 134–150. 103 Indeed, this definition echoes Plato’s account in Euthyphr. 12b4–c8, Leg. 671d2–3 and 646e10–647a2, and, above all, [Plat.] Def. 412c9–10. From a more general point of view, as correctly noted by Opsomer 1997a, 238, Taurus is also applying typically Platonist logic, according to which ‘mechanical causation’ must be distinguished from teleological causation (see, e.g., Plut. Def. or. 435E–436F, and Prim. frig. 948C). 104 See pp. 163–164 for a more extensive discussion of the text. This is confirmed also by T23, which Gellius interestingly draws from Taurus’ Commentary on the Gorgias: Plato is said to have proposed a more straightforward analysis of the meanings of punishment, considering just two of them, while his successors wrongly took them to be three. 105 See also p. 23 n.85. 106 A closer analysis of each view is provided by Gioè 2002, ad loc. 107 This reading of Taurus’ position allows us to leave aside an objection such as that of Tarrant 1996, 187–193, according to whom Taurus cannot have said that Plato proposed a hedonistic ethical model (see also Tarrant 1997, 295). Taurus’ point is, rather, that in Plato’s dialogues there are characters who endorse such a model, and accordingly that Plato proposed it through these characters; but this does not imply that he actually endorsed it. 108 In this way Taurus’ approach fits well with the fundamental discussion of Boys-Stones 2001, 123–150, who has detected a similar view of the history of philosophy as a fundamental basis of Middle Platonist philosophy. 109 See, e.g., Varro’s description of Plato in Cic. Varro 17 (which, as is widely recognised, counts as a testimony of Antiochus’ view), and the well-known claim that Plato was πολύϕωνος but not πολύδοξος, a claim reported by Stobaeus (II 49.25–50.1 and 55.5–7) and often ascribed to Eudorus. For further parallels see Lakmann 1995, 106–108; for a discussion of this principle with respect to Taurus’ exegesis see pp. 163–173. 110 See pp. 154–156 for further discussion of this text.

Taurus in context  25 111 See pp. 200–201. 112 See Nüsser 1991; Tarrant 1993, 31–107; D’Ancona 2002; Boys-Stones 2018, 55–57. 113 See, e.g., Philo De vita cont. 57 and 59–63, and [Heracl.] Quaest. Hom. 77.5–78.8. 114 In this sense, the idea of Holford-Strevens 1988, 196, according to which Gellius never mentions the Timaeus because it was reserved for advanced studies to which Gellius had no access, is pure speculation. It cannot even be excluded that Taurus, just like Albinus (Isag. 149.15–20), had a flexible view of the reading order, whereby this varied depending on the readers and aims: see Boys-Stones 2018, 55–56. 115 See Gioè 2002, 312–313, also for an overview on the physical problem at issue. 116 See p. 24 n.103. 117 See, e.g., Aristot. Eth. Nicom. IV 15.1028b11, and SVF III 264, 394, 407–409, 432. 118 As we shall see in Chapter 3, Taurus applied the same reasoning to physics in a stricter sense, that is to cosmology.

2

Taurus on Plato's cosmogony Middle Platonism and literalism

Since the fourth century BC onwards, Plato's Timaeus has been the fundamental starting point for the development of the philosophical problem of the eternity of the world; and, interestingly enough, in apparent agreement with this background, scholars tend to regard the treatment of the issue and its Platonic foundation according to a sort of argumentative continuity by projecting onto ancient readers of the Timaeus contemporary approaches to the dialogue. As a matter of fact, the contemporary debate on Plato's cosmogony is centred on a nuanced opposition between a te1nporal interpretation - the world has a starting point and was actually generated- and a sempiternalistic one - it has no generation and has always existed. Either option is strictly linked to opposite ways of reading Plato's account: on the one hand, a supporter of the temporal interpretation will usually stress those literal aspects of the text that undoubtedly uphold such a reading, such as Plato's claim that the world ytyov£V (Tim. 28b6-8), and will therefore apply only a selective deliteralisation; 1 on the other, a supporter of the sempiternalistic interpretation will try to demonstrate that philosophical reasons make it impossible to take fundamental aspects of Plato's text at face value, and will aim to strongly (albeit not totally) deliteralise it, taking Plato's tale just as a bildlicher Ausdruck. 2 As a consequence, the opposition between a temporal and a sempitemalistic reading of Plato's cosmogony essentially 3 reproduces that between a literalist interpretation and a different reading, which considers Plato's tale a pedagogical fiction, or a device of presentation. 4 In this framework, scholars tend to credit Platonists supporting the sempiternalistic interpretation with the discovery of the metaphorical interpretation of Plato's cosmogony. Among them, priority is ascribed to Taurus' fragments, which are taken to contain the most telling Middle Platonist application of a metaphorical reading. In this chapter I shall enquire into this aspect of Taurus' exegesis, which has usually been regarded as the most important one. I shall conclude that the traditional account of Taurus' 'metaphorical' exegesis is misleading: while being a supporter of the sempitemalistic reading, he thought of his own interpretation as based on a literalist approach. This will pave the way for the discovery of a shared Middle Platonist exegetical model, for also other supporters of a sempiternalistic interpretation - such as Albinus and Alcinous based their exegeses on a literalist analysis. My interpretation, then, will shed new light on this crucial Middle Platonist debate: Taurus' approach represents a

Taurus on Plato's cosmogony

27

methodological response to previous interpretations (such as that of Plutarch) and in turn strongly conditions following exegeses (such as that of Atticus), while it is only with Plotinus that we really come across a metaphorical Platonist reading of Plato's text. 5 The overall outcome of this analysis will be, on the one hand, a radical redefinition of Taurus' place in the history of Platonism as the discoverer of a literalist sempitemalism, and on the other a new account of Middle Platonist exegesis in general, as based on a literalist approach to Plato's text.

The background Scholars usually distinguish three phases in the Platonist debate on Plato's cosmogony: 6 the sempiternalistic interpretation was widely upheld in the Old Academy, 7 while the temporal reading was proposed by Aristotle; 8 in the Hellenistic age the temporal interpretation became the dominant one; finally, Eudorus re-established the long-lasting priority of the sempitemalistic interpretation.9 This narrative is usually outlined by making two sources interact, that is Plutarch's De animae procreatione in Timaeo (1013A6-B9) and Cicero's De natura deorum (I 18-24). Plutarch, here following Eudorus, presents the sempitemalistic interpretation as having continuously dominated the Platonist tradition from the very beginning. Cicero's witness, on the other hand, apparently contradicts Plutarch' s, since the speech of the Epicurean Velleius testifies to a strong predominance of the temporal interpretation in Hellenistic times: Velleius criticises Plato for having imagined a craftsman-like God temporally producing an everlasting world. 10 Such an outline may to some extent depend on the dialogic context, since Velleius wishes to criticise both Plato and the Stoics, whose cosmogonies can be coupled only provided that a temporal interpretation is ascribed to Plato. However, Velleius' real target cannot be reduced to the Stoics, since he refers to the notion of pre-creational time in terms of a quaedam ab infinito tempo re aeternitas, implying that at so1ne point God decided to start his creation (I 21): this argument could hardly be applied directly against the Stoics' cyclical cosmogony, 11 while it fits well with a temporal reading of the Timaeus .12 Even admitting that on account of the polemical function of this passage the author voluntarily glossed over possible Platonist sempiternalistic interpretations developed in the Hellenistic age, 13 the text in any case testifies to the relevance of a temporal interpretation in the Hellenistic period and emphasises that Plutarch willingly omitted part of the story. This is confirmed by Cicero's own interpretation of the issue (Tusc. disp. I 70): 14 Plato was the standard-bearer of the idea that the world is generated, while Aristotle thought that the world is eternal. Indeed, Cicero himself must have upheld the temporal reading: in his version of the Timaeus the key passage 28b6-7 (n6Tc:pov~v ac:i, yc:vtac:mc;apx17v EXCDV ou8c:µiav' 11ytyovc:v' an' apx~c; '!tvoc; ap~aµc:voc;. ytyovc:v) is translated as semperne fuerit nullo generatus ortu, an ortus sit ab aliquo temporis principatu. ortus est (Tim. 5), where temporis implies that Cicero favoured a temporal interpretation. 15 Now, given that during the Hellenistic age no Academic Sceptic could have positively supported either reading, one could make sense of these

28

Taurus on Plato

s cosmogony

testimonies by assuming that the only interpretation upheld by followers of Plato before Plutarch was the sempiternalistic one, while the temporal interpretation was widespread in the other schools - and this is indeed what scholars tend to think. This would have two puzzling consequences, however. First, the responsibility for the success of the temporal interpretation in the Hellenistic age would have to be ascribed to Aristotle and then, reasonably, to the Stoics. Second, the narrative would entail at least two clear breaks: between the Old Academy and the Hellenistic age (with a paradoxical and immediate obscuration of the sempiternalistic interpretation), and between standard Hellenistic temporalism and the Eudorean revival of the sempiternalistic interpretation. All this given, it is likely that things are more complex, for on the one hand it would be hard to explain the immediate eclipse of sempiternalism after the Old Academy, and on the other the detected breaks are reasonable as historiographical representations but hardly conceivable as real historical phenomena. Moreover, the traditional interpretation sheds no light on one crucial aspect, namely what arguments were employed before the Middle Platonists readdressed the issue. Accordingly, let us start our analysis of the sources from scratch, by taking Cicero as our starting point. In the Lucullus a list of accounts of the world's cause and origin serves as a sceptical argument on the dogmatics' diaphonia in the field of physics. In this scenario, Plato took the world to have been produced by God and to be sempiternal (Plato ex materia in se omnia recipiente mundum factum esse censet a deo sempiternum ), while such a view was contrasted by Aristotle, according to whom the world had no beginning (119). This way of framing the question is functional to Cicero's strategy: more specifically, in the context of the work this argument is meant to work against a specific dogmatic account, namely that of Antiochus. 16 If this is the case, we are encouraged to hypothesise that Antiochus supported such a temporal account. This hypothesis is confirmed by a passage of the Varro (28) where the Antiochean spokesman Varro establishes an asymmetric relationship between the sempiternal principles producing the world and the world itself, which therefore must be temporally generated. 17 In this case, Antiochus would have been the.first follower of Plato to support a temporal reading of Plato's cosmogony. However, Antiochus ascribes this view to the Old Academics, and David Sedley has suggested that this is historically reliable (Polemo being probably at issue). His reading has not been universally accepted, 18 but it can also be phrased in a less controversial way. The point here is that it is fairly reasonable to suppose that Antiochus had some grounds to appeal to some Academic principles in order to ascribe his doctrines to the Old Academy, for the contrary would have made his argument extremely weak: it would be absolutely implausible to suggest that Antiochus tampered with Academic doctrines to the point of ascribing to them a temporal cosmogony on no grounds at all, that is if all Academics had endorsed a sempiternalistic view. 19 At the same time, other explanations, for instance Antiochus' alleged Stoicism, would hardly explain Antiochus' claim: on the one hand, recent Stoics such as Panaetius and Boethus had abandoned the doctrine of conflagration in favour of a sempiternalistic theory, 20 and even assuming that Antiochus ignored this point (which is quite unlikely), 21 there is no ground to

Taurus on Plato's cosmogony

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ascribe to him any belief in conflagration; on the other hand, since the temporal stance contrasts also with Aristotle, who was in Antiochus' view a (rather) faithful follower of Plato, Antiochus must have had some good reason for his choice. 22 One can fairly exclude that Antiochus found any evidence in favour of the temporal reading in the sceptical Academy: even admitting that this position was upheld in this phase (by whom and in what context?), one can be certain that Antiochus would have done everything possible to downplay such continuity. 23 Thus, the most economic solution is to hypothesise that Antiochus adopted a position, that is a temporal interpretation, which was already to be found - albeit as a minority position - in the Old Academy. 24 In terms of our narrative, this would have a huge pay-off, for it would indicate a 'Platonist' origin for the temporal interpretation, which later became more and more influential during the Hellenistic age (although this does not imply that there was any Platonist debate on the origin of the world in the Hellenistic period). It is likely, therefore, that alongside 'Plutarch's' sempiternalistic current (extending from Xenocrates to Eudorus ), there was a minor 'silent current' in favour of the temporal interpretation, which was finally recovered by Antiochus. All this given, we can better outline Antiochus' argumentative strategy in favour of the temporal interpretation, for to philosophical arguments (such as that of asymmetry) he added an argument from authority, namely the authority of the Old Academy. At the same time, he did not strengthen his position by resorting to any direct exegetical activity on Plato's text, which must have played a very minor role in his argumentation (I shall return to this issue in due course ).25 At this point Eudorus enters the stage. Scholars usually take him to have resuscitated the sempiternalistic reading. More specifically, as Plutarch informs us, he upheld an existing Academic interpretation according to which the soul and the world are sempiternal, and Plato's tale must be read according to a clarificatory interpretation (cracp17vc:ia