(1) Conceiving, however, that the first attention which should be paid to men, is that which takes place through the senses; as when some one perceives beautiful figures and forms, or hears beautiful rythms and melodies, he established that to be the first erudition which subsists through music, and also through certain melodies and rythms, from which the remedies of human manners and passions are obtained, together with those harmonies of the powers of the soul which it possessed from the first. He likewise devised medicines calculated to repress and expel the diseases both of bodies and souls. And by Jupiter that which deserves to be mentioned above all these particulars is this, that he arranged and adapted for his disciples what are called apparatus and contrectations, divinely contriving mixtures of certain diatonic, chromatic, and euharmonic melodies, through which he easily transferred and circularly led the passions of the soul into a contrary direction, when they had recently and in an irrational and clandestine manner been formed; such as sorrow, rage, and pity, absurd emulation and fear, all-various desires, angers, and appetites, pride, supineness, and vehemence.

For he corrected each of these by the rule of virtue, attempering them through appropriate melodies, as through certain salutary medicines. In the evening, likewise, when his disciples were retiring to sleep, he liberated them by these means from diurnal perturbations and tumults, and purified their intellective power from the influxive and effluxive waves of a corporeal nature; rendered their sleep quiet, and their dreams pleasing and prophetic. But when they again rose from their bed, he freed them from nocturnal heaviness, relaxation and torpor, through certain peculiar songs and modulations, produced either by simply striking the lyre, or employing the voice. Pythagoras, however, did not procure for himself a thing of this kind through instruments or the voice, but employing a certain ineffable divinity, and which it is difficult to apprehend, he extended his ears, and fixed his intellect in the sublime symphonies of the world, he alone hearing and understanding, as it appears, the universal harmony and consonance of the spheres, and the stars that are moved through them, and which produce a fuller and more intense melody than any thing effected by mortal sounds.

This melody also was the result of dissimilar and variously differing sounds, celerities, magnitudes, and intervals, arranged with reference to each other in a certain most musical ratio, and thus producing a most gentle, and at the same time variously beautiful motion and convolution. Being therefore irrigated as it were with this melody, having the reason of his intellect well arranged through it, and as I may say, exercised, he determined to exhibit certain images of these things to his disciples as much as possible, especially producing an imitation of them through instruments, and through the mere voice alone. For he conceived that by him alone, of all the inhabitants of the earth, the mundane sounds were understood and heard, and this from a natural fountain itself and root.

He therefore thought himself worthy to be taught, and to learn something about the celestial orbs, and to be assimilated to them by desire and imitation, as being the only one on the earth adapted to this by the conformation of his body, through the dæmoniacal power that inspired him. But he apprehended that other men ought to be satisfied in looking to him, and the gifts he possessed, and in being benefited and corrected through images and examples, in consequence of their inability to comprehend truly the first and genuine archetypes of things. Just, indeed, as to those who are incapable of looking intently at the sun, through the transcendent splendor of his rays, we contrive to exhibit the eclipses of that luminary, either in the profundity of still water, or through melted pitch, or through some darkly-splendid mirror; sparing the imbecility of their eyes, and devising a method of representing a certain repercussive light, though less intense than its archetype, to those who are delighted with a thing of this kind. Empedocles also appears to have obscurely signified this about Pythagoras, and the illustrious and divinely-gifted conformation of his body above that of other men, when he says:

(1) Since, however, we are narrating the wisdom employed by Pythagoras in instructing his disciples, it will not be unappropriate to relate that which is proximate in a following order to this, viz. how he invented the harmonic science, and harmonic ratios. But for this purpose we must begin a little higher. Intently considering once, and reasoning with himself, whether it would be possible to devise a certain instrumental assistance to the hearing, which should be firm and unerring, such as the sight obtains through the compass and the rule, or, by Jupiter, through a dioptric instrument; or such as the touch obtains through the balance, or the contrivance of measures;—thus considering, as he was walking near a brazier’s shop, he heard from a certain divine casualty the hammers beating out a piece of iron on an anvil, and producing sounds that accorded with each other, one combination only excepted.

But he recognized in those sounds, the diapason, the diapente, and the diatessaron, harmony. He saw, however, that the sound which was between the diatessaron and the diapente was itself by itself dissonant, yet, nevertheless, gave completion to that which was the greater sound among them. Being delighted, therefore, to find that the thing which he was anxious to discover had succeeded to his wishes by divine assistance, he went into the brazier’s shop, and found by various experiments, that the difference of sound arose from the magnitude of the hammers, but not from the force of the strokes, nor from the figure of the hammers, nor from the transposition of the iron which was beaten. When, therefore, he had accurately examined the weights and the equal counterpoise of the hammers, he returned home, and fixed one stake diagonally to the walls, lest if there were many, a certain difference should arise from this circumstance, or in short, lest the peculiar nature of each of the stakes should cause a suspicion of mutation.

Afterwards, from this stake he suspended four chords consisting of the same materials, and of the same magnitude and thickness, and likewise equally twisted. To the extremity of each chord also he tied a weight. And when he had so contrived, that the chords were perfectly equal to each other in length, he afterwards alternately struck two chords at once, and found the before-mentioned symphonies, viz. a different symphony in a different combination. For he discovered that the chord which was stretched by the greatest weight, produced, when compared with that which was stretched by the smallest, the symphony diapason. But the former of these weights was twelve pounds, and the latter six. And, therefore, being in a duple ratio, it exhibited the consonance diapason; which the weights themselves rendered apparent.

But again, he found that the chord from which the greatest weight was suspended compared with that from which the weight next to the smallest depended, and which weight was eight pounds, produced the symphony diapente. Hence he discovered that this symphony is in a sesquialter ratio, in which ratio also the weights were to each other. And he found that the chord which was stretched by the greatest weight, produced, when compared with that which was next to it in weight, and was nine pounds, the symphony diatessaron, analogously to the weights. This ratio, therefore, he discovered to be sesquitertian; but that of the chord from which a weight of nine pounds was suspended, to the chord which had the smallest weight [or six pounds,] to be sesquialter.

For 9 is to 6 in a sesquialter ratio. In like manner, the chord next to that from which the smallest weight depended, was to that which had the smallest weight, in a sesquitertian ratio, [for it was the ratio of 8 to 6,] but to the chord which had the greatest weight, in a sesquialter ratio [for such is the ratio of 12 to 8.] Hence, that which is between the diapente and the diatessaron, and by which the diapente exceeds the diatessaron, is proved to be in an epogdoan ratio, or that of 9 to 8. But either way it may be proved that the diapason is a system consisting of the diapente in conjunction with the diatessaron, just as the duple ratio consists of the sesquialter and sesquitertian, as for instance, 12, 8, and 6; or conversely, of the diatessaron and the diapente, as in the duple ratio of the sesquitertian and sesquialter ratios, as for instance 12, 9, and 6.

After this manner, therefore, and in this order, having conformed both his hand and his hearing to the suspended weights, and having established according to them the ratio of the habitudes, he transferred by an easy artifice the common suspension of the chords from the diagonal stake to the limen of the instrument, which he called chordotonon . But he produced by the aid of pegs a tension of the chords analogous to that effected by the weights.

(1) After this we must narrate how, when he had admitted certain persons to be his disciples, he distributed them into different classes according to their respective merits. For it was not fit that all of them should equally participate of the same things, as they were naturally dissimilar; nor was it indeed right that some should participate of all the most honorable auditions, but others of none, or should not at all partake of them. For this would be uncommunicative and unjust. While therefore he imparted a convenient portion of his discourses to each, he benefited as much as possible all of them, and preserved the proportion of justice, by making each a partaker of the auditions according to his desert.

Hence, in conformity to this method, he called some of them Pythagoreans, but others Pythagorists; just as we denominate some men Attics, but others Atticists. Having therefore thus aptly divided their names, some of them he considered to be genuine, but he ordained that others should show themselves to be the emulators of these. He ordered therefore that with the Pythagoreans possessions should be shared in common, and that they should always live together; but that each of the others should possess his own property apart from the rest, and that assembling together in the same place, they should mutually be at leisure for the same pursuits. And thus each of these modes was derived from Pythagoras, and transmitted to his successors.

Again, there were also with the Pythagoreans two forms of philosophy; for there were likewise two genera of those that pursued it, the Acusmatici, and the Mathematici. Of these however the Mathematici are acknowledged to be Pythagoreans by the rest; but the Mathematici do not admit that the Acusmatici are so, or that they derived their instruction from Pythagoras, but from Hippasus. And with respect to Hippasus, some say that he was a Crotonian, but others a Metapontine. But the philosophy of the Acusmatici consists in auditions unaccompanied with demonstrations and a reasoning process; because it merely orders a thing to be done in a certain way, and that they should endeavour to preserve such other things as were said by him, as so many divine dogmas.

They however profess that they will not speak of them, and that they are not to be spoken of; but they conceive those of their sect to be the best furnished with wisdom, who retained what they had heard more than others. But all these auditions are divided into three species. For some of them indeed signify what a thing is; others what it especially is; but others, what ought, or what ought not, to be done. The auditions therefore which signify what a thing is, are such as, What are the islands of the blessed? The sun and moon. What is the oracle at Delphi? The tetractys. What is harmony? That in which the Syrens subsist . But the auditions which signify what a thing especially is, are such as, What is the most just thing?

To sacrifice. What is the wisest thing? Number. But the next to this in wisdom, is that which gives names to things. What is the wisest of the things that are with us, [i. e. which pertain to human concerns]? Medicine. What is the most beautiful? Harmony. What is the most powerful? Mental decision. What is the most excellent? Felicity. What is that which is most truly asserted? That men are depraved. Hence they say that Pythagoras praised the Salaminian poet Hippodomas, because he sings:

(2) Employing this method, therefore, as a basis, and as it were an infallible rule, he afterwards extended the experiment to various instruments; viz. to the pulsation of patellæ or pans, to pipes and reeds, to monochords, triangles, and the like. And in all these he found an immutable concord with the ratio of numbers. But he denominated the sound which participates of the number 6 hypate : that which participates of the number 8 and is sesquitertian, mese ; that which participates of the number 9, but is more acute by a tone than mese, he called paramese , and epogdous ; but that which participates of the dodecad, nete . Having also filled up the middle spaces with analogous sounds according to the diatonic genus, he formed an octochord from symphonious numbers, viz. from the double, the sesquialter, the sesquitertian, and from the difference of these, the epogdous.

And thus he discovered the [harmonic] progression, which tends by a certain physical necessity from the most grave [i. e. flat] to the most acute sound, according to this diatonic genus. For from the diatonic, he rendered the chromatic and enharmonic genus perspicuous, as we shall some time or other show when we treat of music. This diatonic genus, however, appears to have such physical gradations and progressions as the following; viz. a semitone, a tone, and then a tone; and this is the diatessaron, being a system consisting of two tones, and of what is called a semitone. Afterwards, another tone being assumed, viz. the one which is intermediate, the diapente is produced, which is a system consisting of three tones and a semitone.

In the next place to this is the system of a semitone, a tone, and a tone, forming another diatessaron, i. e. another sesquitertian ratio. So that in the more ancient heptachord indeed, all the sounds, from the most grave, which are with respect to each other fourths, produce every where with each other the symphony diatessaron; the semitone receiving by transition, the first, middle, and third place, according to the tetrachord. In the Pythagoric octachord, however, which by conjunction is a system of the tetrachord and pentachord, but if disjoined is a system of two tetrachords separated from each other, the progression is from the most grave sound. Hence all the sounds that are by their distance from each other fifths, produce with each other the symphony diapente; the semitone successively proceeding into four places, viz. the first, second, third, and fourth. After this manner, therefore, it is said that music was discovered by Pythagoras. And having reduced it to a system, he delivered it to his disciples as subservient to every thing that is most beautiful.

(47) Timaeus: the perturbable to the imperturbable; and that, through learning and sharing in calculations which are correct by their nature, by imitation of the absolutely unvarying revolutions of the God we might stabilize the variable revolutions within ourselves. Concerning sound also and hearing, once more we make the same declaration, that they were bestowed by the Gods with the same object and for the same reasons; for it was for these same purposes that speech was ordained, and it makes the greatest contribution thereto; music too, in so far as it uses audible sound,

(1) What art is there, what method, what discipline to bring us there where we must go?

The Term at which we must arrive we may take as agreed: we have established elsewhere, by many considerations, that our journey is to the Good, to the Primal-Principle; and, indeed, the very reasoning which discovered the Term was itself something like an initiation.

But what order of beings will attain the Term?

Surely, as we read, those that have already seen all or most things, those who at their first birth have entered into the life-germ from which is to spring a metaphysician, a musician or a born lover, the metaphysician taking to the path by instinct, the musician and the nature peculiarly susceptible to love needing outside guidance.

But how lies the course? Is it alike for all, or is there a distinct method for each class of temperament?

For all there are two stages of the path, as they are making upwards or have already gained the upper sphere.

The first degree is the conversion from the lower life; the second- held by those that have already made their way to the sphere of the Intelligibles, have set as it were a footprint there but must still advance within the realm- lasts until they reach the extreme hold of the place, the Term attained when the topmost peak of the Intellectual realm is won.

But this highest degree must bide its time: let us first try to speak of the initial process of conversion.

We must begin by distinguishing the three types. Let us take the musician first and indicate his temperamental equipment for the task.

The musician we may think of as being exceedingly quick to beauty, drawn in a very rapture to it: somewhat slow to stir of his own impulse, he answers at once to the outer stimulus: as the timid are sensitive to noise so he to tones and the beauty they convey; all that offends against unison or harmony in melodies and rhythms repels him; he longs for measure and shapely pattern.

This natural tendency must be made the starting-point to such a man; he must be drawn by the tone, rhythm and design in things of sense: he must learn to distinguish the material forms from the Authentic-Existent which is the source of all these correspondences and of the entire reasoned scheme in the work of art: he must be led to the Beauty that manifests itself through these forms; he must be shown that what ravished him was no other than the Harmony of the Intellectual world and the Beauty in that sphere, not some one shape of beauty but the All-Beauty, the Absolute Beauty; and the truths of philosophy must be implanted in him to lead him to faith in that which, unknowing it, he possesses within himself. What these truths are we will show later.

(2) "Well, then," enquired Tzŭ Yu, "since the music of earth consists of nothing more than holes, and the music of man of pipes and flutes,—of what consists the music of Heaven?" "The effect of the wind upon these various apertures," replied Tzŭ Ch'i, "is not uniform. But what is it that gives to each the individuality, to all the potentiality, of sound? "Great knowledge embraces the whole: small knowledge, a part only. Great speech is universal: small speech is particular. "For whether when the mind is locked in sleep or whether when in waking hours the body is released, we are subject to daily mental perturbations,—indecision, want of penetration, concealment, fretting fear, and trembling terror. Now like a javelin the mind flies forth, the arbiter of right and wrong. Now like a solemn covenanter it remains firm, the guardian of rights secured. Then, as under autumn and winter's blight, comes gradual decay, a passing away, like the flow of water, never to return. Finally, the block when all is choked up like an old drain,—the failing mind which shall not see light again. "Joy and anger, sorrow and happiness, caution and remorse, come upon us by turns, with ever-changing mood. They come like music from hollowness, like mushrooms from damp. Daily and nightly they alternate within us, but we cannot tell whence they spring. Can we then hope in a moment to lay our finger upon their very Cause?