PREFACE

Ḥunayn ibn Isḥāq al-ʿIbādī (809–873), nicknamed the ‘Prince of Translators’ is traditionally credited with a great number of translations, not only in the field of medicine, but also those of mathematics, philosophy, magic, and even oneiromancy. We are especially well informed about his translation activities in the field of medicine thanks to his Risāla ilā ʿAlī b. Yaḥyā (Treatise on the Syriac and Arabic translations of Galen),Footnote ¹ a detailed survey of the various translations of Galen's works available in his time. In the Risāla which actually survives in two different versions,Footnote ² Ḥunayn lists a total of 129 Galenic works, of which he himself allegedly translated about a hundred either into Syriac for his Christian colleagues or into Arabic for the Muslim sponsors of his work, like the Banū Mūsā, or into both. For the purposes of the present study, Ḥunayn's acquaintance with Plato's Timaeus is of particular interest. Two items in the list of his translations relate to that text: the so-called “medical Timaeus”,Footnote ³ and a collection of Galenic epitomes of Plato's writings, which includes the Timaeus.Footnote ⁴

In addition to these translations Ḥunayn composed a number of original works, mainly in the field of medicine, but also in other fields, such as philosophy, meteorology, zoology, and linguistics.Footnote ⁵ Among these is a doxography, Ādāb al-Falāsifa.Footnote ⁶ To anticipate once again, it is odd that Plato receives no separate entry there, and his name is mentioned only twice in the entire treatise. One should also mention commentaries, for example a lost commentary to the Hippocratic Oath, which is quoted in al-Rāzī's K. al-Ḥāwī.Footnote ⁷

The text we publish here, The Book of the Concise Abridgment on the Elements, taken from the Book of Galen, is said to be another work of Ḥunayn. It is an entirely different text from the Alexandrian summary bearing a similar title and published by Salīm Sālim.Footnote ⁸ Moreover, the title lists the book as being attributed to (mansūb ilā) Ḥunayn; this formulary indicates that the medieval copyist as well had his doubts about the attribution. Whether or not Ḥunayn is the author, the text is of considerable interest. It presents a sympathetic presentation of Galenic element theory, engaging along the way with rivals from both the Aristotelian tradition and other medical writers from the early Islamic period.

This text ascribed to Ḥunayn is preserved in MS Teheran, Majlis Shūrā 3937, pp. 198–214, a huge codex of treatises that contains medical texts in Arabic, notably some of the so-called Alexandrian summaries (jawāmiʿ). A full cataloguing of the contents is beyond the purview of the present study.

The author (whom we shall conveniently refer to as Ḥunayn, though his authorship is not certain) is primarily interested in the application of physics to biology and medicine. There is a certain logic to the way the treatise progresses. Ḥunayn begins first with Aristotle, citing from two of his works. Galen gives no such pride of place or special consideration to the Stagirite. This may indicate that already in Ḥunayn's time, Aristotle and Aristotelianism were dominating physical thought. Ḥunayn does not directly address the differences between, not to mention the possible incompatibility of the Aristotelian and Galenic definitions.

Ḥunayn then moves on to the other physical theories known to him in chapters two through seven, derived from the pre-Socratics, including, of course, interpretations of the pre-Socratic doctrines that developed later in the classical tradition. Texts relating information about the beliefs of the pre-Socratics have recently been collected, translated into English, and supplied with notes by Daniel Graham in a highly acclaimed book which may well supplant Diels-Kranz for not a few scholars.Footnote ⁹ Doxographies in Arabic and Syriac, compiled in the early Islamic period, contain information about pre-Socratic physics. Materials from these sources, and writings in Hebrew and Latin as well, are included in the new volume on Anaximander and Anaximenes by Georg Wöhrle.Footnote ¹⁰ Ulrich Rudolph has offered some suggestions concerning the ideological tendencies, or intellectual agendas, if we may put it in one of those ways, of some of the more important compilations.Footnote ¹¹

Ḥunayn's book adds an important and heretofore neglected perspective to this body of texts and its historical development. We should add, not just the book he has supposedly written, which is the subject of this study, but also his translation of the so-called Alexandrian summary, being prepared for publication by John Walbridge.Footnote ¹² In the text published here Ḥunayn offers a Galenic perspective – but not precisely Galen's very words or even stance. Most notable in this regard is his discussion of Anaximenes, Melissus, and Parmenides, and the way he connects the historical development with a misinterpretation (so he thinks) of a passage from the Timaeus – a passage that is not found precisely as he cites it in Plato's book, nor in the treatise of Timaeus Locri. These theories, the first to be dealt with in the text under scrutiny here, are all basic theories of matter, applicable to the world as a whole. In the course of disposing of rival theories, Ḥunayn does offer a variety of arguments, both logical and empirical, but not always. He is quite sure that Galen's definition of element is the correct one. The belief that the definition we are looking for is really the one best suited to human biology always lurks in the background.

Having established to his satisfaction that neither the atomists, nor the Pythagoreans, nor any other of the rival schools have offered a viable theory, Ḥunayn proceeds in the remaining chapters to deal with rival theories that, like Galen's, have medicine and biology at the heart of their concern. In these chapters he does offer more detailed discussions and refutations, but again, he does not seem to be deeply troubled by any rival theory.

The author's polemic against rival schools is based in large part on the proper definition of usṭuquss, the Arabic word used to translate “element” in the title of Galen's book. It is certainly an Arabization of the Greek stocheion; however, in order to understand precisely what usṭuquss means for Ḥunayn, we must pay careful attention to the arguments he advances in the treatise. The proper definition or concept of “element” is “the smallest part of that of which it constitutes an element”. This is of course Galen's definition. Deviations from this definition lead to error.

According to Ḥunayn, some confuse usṭuquss with two other fundamental concepts of cosmology: ʿunṣur, which means (as we must deduce from his analysis) prime matter, hyle, or the “stuff” of the universe, and ibtidāʾ, which means principle (likely the Greek arche). (Note that the more usual term, built from the same Arabic root, is mabdaʾ) Ḥunayn's effort at distinguishing between the concepts allows us to get a better handle on what precisely he means by “element”. Thus “element” differs from ʿunṣur in that, unlike the latter, it possesses qualities. In further distinguishing “element” from ibtidāʾ, Ḥunayn provides a full definition of usṭuqussāt (in the plural): elements are “parts of the generated thing, existing in potentia”. Note that he incorporates here part of Aristotle's definition, that given in the Metaphysics and cited in the first chapter.

In chapter eight, deploying a classic Galenic move, Ḥunayn states that the three great authorities – Plato, Aristotle, and Galen – have all opted for Hippocrates's definition of element. The remaining chapters are devoted to the proper understanding of “element” in the context of human biology.

CHAPTER-BY-CHAPTER SYNOPSIS AND COMMENTARY

Chapter One: Ḥunayn opens his treatise with a comparison between the Aristotelian and Galenic definitions of “element”. But first he must reconcile two different definitions that he has found in Aristotle, the first, a more general one, in On the Heavens and the second, which restricts the element to that which is found in the generated thing only potentially, in the Metaphysics. Both are cited in Arabic, of course. Neither matches any known translation; both are paraphrases rather than literal renderings. Their source remains a mystery, unless, of course, (the real) Ḥunayn himself prepared them, which he was quite capable of doing. Galen's famous definition, namely that element is the smallest part, detectable by the intellect, out of which a thing has come to be, is brought into the discussion at the very end of the chapter. Ḥunayn intimates that Galen's definition is more economical; unlike Aristotle, Galen does not need to specify that the element is found in the thing in its first instantiation, since Galen is already talking about the smallest parts of the generated thing. Beyond that, however, there is no attempt to compare the two definitions and to judge between them.

In the introduction to the Alexandrian epitome we read [transl. Walbridge, slightly amended], “You read the Physics before it. After it you read the works on physics, one after another.” As Walbridge notes, most likely Aristotle's Physics is intended, and On the Heavens would be one of the “works on physics” to be read afterwards. Obviously, the late antique physician was expected to have good training in Aristotelian physics.

Chapter Two: In this chapter Ḥunayn sorts out the different theories about the elements, twelve in all. Like Galen, he classifies the theories by a series of bifurcations: one element or many; one in number or one in species; mobile or motionless; limited or unlimited; and so on.

Chapter Three: Refutation of the Eleatics, i.e., those who say that there is only one element, and it is motionless, where motionless is taken to mean incapable of change (since all change is a type of motion). Galen notes that both Hippocrates and Aristotle begin by saying that the Eleatic doctrine is so absurd that it need not be refuted, but then they go on to offer arguments against it.Footnote ¹³ Aristotle indeed refuted them in his Physics, but Aristotle's reasoning as reproduced here is circular. Ḥunayn's Aristotle basically assumes that motion is necessary for genesis, that is, for the instantiation of objects that come to be. But objects in our world are instantiated, so obviously the Eleatic theory must be wrong. It seems that the historical remove of our author – Ḥunayn or someone else working more or less when he did, that is, half a millennium or more after Galen and a millennium after Aristotle – obscured for him the seriousness of the Eleatic challenge to physics and natural science (as Aristotle understood them), as well as the difficulty Aristotle experienced in coming up with a sufficient response.

Ḥunayn then discusses some later interpretations. These look to be quite interesting; we cannot name as yet Ḥunayn's sources. These readings, like Galen in his own treatment of the topic, group together the Milesians (the group of very early Greek thinkers who identified a single element, e.g. Thales and water) and the later Eleatics (Parmenides and Melissus).Footnote ¹⁴ An unidentified group of philosophers took the Eleatic “element” to refer in fact to the First Cause. In that reading, of course, it makes perfect sense that the First Cause be motionless. We may recall here Francis Cornford's observation that Plato already rejects the Milesian doctrine of a “single fundamental form of matter” which fulfills the roles of both arche (original state) and phusis (permanent ground).Footnote ¹⁵ The discussion continues with the different approaches of Parmenides and Milessus, as to whether the element is limited (Parmenides) or unlimited (Milessus). They too (or are they the “group” referred to in the preceding?) identify the First Cause with the “element”. This confusion with regard to “names” is the cause of their error. But the element is – as Galen tells us – the smallest part of the thing of which it is an element. That definition does not apply at all to the First Cause.Footnote ¹⁶

Chapter Four: This chapter conveys Galen's refutation of atomism. The argument is empirical and biological. According to Galen, were the elements insentient units moving in an obviously insentient vacuum, it would be impossible for us to sense pain. A needle pricking the body would meet up either with an insentient atom or vacuum; in neither case would there be a sensation of pain. But pain certainly exists! Interestingly enough, the earliest Muslim speculative theologians (mutakallimūn), who were atomists, invested a lot of effort in understanding the physiology of pain. This interest has been a puzzle. However, it appears that these theologians learned of atomism in large measure from Galen, whose On the Elements contains rich discussion of atomistic theories. Therefore, it is understandable that the theologians would have been pressed to find an explanation for pain that would allow them to maintain their atomism.Footnote ¹⁷

Chapter Five: Anaximenes would seem to be the butt of the criticism of this short chapter. It is he who said that all things come about from a thickening or thinning of the one element, air.Footnote ¹⁸ The theory is rejected for two reasons: (1) it too is shown to entail a denial of the phenomenon of pain; (2) since the element is here thought to be mobile, there must also be a mover. Hence “the element” is not one. (What does this say about our author's concept of element? See next paragraph.)

Ḥunayn points to the source of this erroneous view. It is said to be a sentence in Plato's Timaeus which reads: “The beginning (or: principle, ibtidā’) is one and the mawḍūʿ of all things is one.” Ḥunayn explains that in the second part of the sentence Plato spoke about the ʿunṣur, “which is the mawḍūʿ of all things.” This is the interpretation dictated by the text before us. But does Plato make any such statement? Nothing like this is found in the Greek Timaeus. Perhaps Timaeus 49B-C, where Plato describes how the four elements emerge from “the receptacle” (cf. the meaning of mawḍūʿ as “réceptacle” quoted in Goichon, p. 239),Footnote ¹⁹ is what the author has in mind. Indeed, Luc Brisson has convincingly argued that chora (the “receptacle” of the Timaeus) fits the concept of matter used by the alchemists.Footnote ²⁰

Note that in the Galenic summary of the Timaeus, the most complete version in Arabic of the dialogue to reach us, the word ‘unṣur does not appear at all.Footnote ²¹ Citations from the Timaeus that do not match the textus receptus are not unknown. Al-Fārābī, for example, quotes passages in his Harmonization that have no equivalent in Plato's dialogue.Footnote ²² Recently, Rudiger Arnzen has shown that the author of the compilation known as Multaqaṭāt Aflāṭūn had a good understanding of Platonic cosmology, though his references to the Timaeus (and other dialogues as well) often do not match Plato's text.Footnote ²³ Here we sorely miss the translation of the Timaeus reported to have been the work of Ḥunayn himself.Footnote ²⁴

Ḥunayn continues: ʿunṣur “is only ʿunṣur so long as it does not receive qualities. When it receives qualities it becomes usṭuquss.” This strange passage is a conundrum that can be solved only by looking at the text in context. To anticipate, let us say again that, as far as we can determine, by ʿunṣur our author has in mind (here at least) Plato's χώρα. His criticism can be understood best in the light of the insight of Aristotle (Physics IV, 209b 12–17) and some modern scholars: Plato's term means both “space” and “matter”. Hence Ḥunayn calls it mawḍūʿ – one would of course have preferred to find here mawḍiʿ – which has the sense of place, of where things can be put, even if this is not the dictionary definition; but he also avers that ʿunṣur becomes usṭuquss, the element which is the topic of this book, when it receives the qualities. For further discussion of ʿunṣur, see the note on translations below.

Chapter Six: Refutation of Stoics, Peripatetics, Empedocles and Pythagoreans. Note that for Ḥunayn, the Peripatetics and Aristotle constitute two distinct schools with different theories of matter. The Stoics, Peripatetics, and Empedocles are all rejected because they confuse “element” with other concepts, as we explained in the introduction. No arguments are advanced against the Pythagoreans.Footnote ²⁵

Chapter Seven: The text of this chapter seems to be hopelessly corrupt. We have emended it here and there, but cannot yet restore it properly; to do so one would need to rewrite substantial portions. The confusion or corruption stems from the incorrect addition or omission of negative particles in the Arabic, in order to indicate “not” reactive, i.e. inert, and “not” sentient, i.e. insentient. There may yet be another source of confusion. Ḥunayn distinguishes between two concepts, the capacity to react and the capacity to sense. In fact, though, the senses perform their function by reacting to stimuli in the environment, so the distinction does not seem to be very meaningful. This may muddle the discussion somewhat.

Finally, it emerges from the final paragraph that this chapter is directed against a certain Boethus of Sidon. The texts on psychology ascribed to a thinker by that name and the accompanying problems have been thoroughly reviewed by H. B. Gottschalk.Footnote ²⁶ Our new text may contribute something to this topic; but whether we will be able to clarify matters, or only deepen the conundrum, remains to be seen. Briefly, a number of late antique texts ascribe to Boethus – Gottschalk concludes that they refer to Boethus the Peripatetic, pupil of Andronicus – the idea that the soul is divine. One may then surmise that this Boethus would not have wished to ascribe sensation to the soul, but rather directly to the elements, as does the presumed opponent of Ḥunayn. Perhaps this may in some way be connected to the report of Macrobius that Boethus held the soul to be composed of fire and air, which would then have carried out the sentient faculties of the soul; but Gottschalk wisely counsels that Macrobius may have been referring to one of the three other Boethus's.

Ḥunayn for his part mentions two “syllogisms” adduced by Boethus in support of his position. Something is known about the logic of Boethus the Peripatetic;Footnote ²⁷ but whether the passage in Ḥunayn may resolve the issue is a question that we prefer to leave open.

Here follows an exposé of the text as it appears in the unique manuscript. The treatise by Ḥunayn takes on a different tack here, applying combinatorics and logic. Having established to his satisfaction that the two key properties that are critically relevant to the concept of “element” are reactiveness (infiʿāl), that is, the capacity to be acted upon by an external agent, and sensation, he wishes to determine, by a process of elimination, which combination of the presence or absence of properties applies to the correct definition of element. In fact, sensation would seem to be just one form of reactiveness; it is singled out here, so it seems, because it is needed for the argument from pain.

We have, then, four properties: reactive and its opposite, inert, and sentient and its opposite, insentient. The combination of four things taken two at a time, when the order of the elements in each pair is not significant, is (4 × 3)/2 = 6. Two pairs, however, involve a property and its opposite, e.g. reactive and inert, so only four pairs must be studied. But it has already been established that the element cannot be inert, so we are left with the question, whether or not it is insentient.Footnote ²⁸

Here Ḥunayn makes another unexplained move which, however, can be understood in the context of the treatise as a whole. “Universal elements” certainly need not be sentient, since minerals, and even certain parts of the living organism, such as fingernails, are insentient. Apparently, he has had in mind all along that by “element” he means the significant elements of the human body, those that can feel pain and are sentient.

Sensation, he continues, is a property of the soul, not the elements. Elements are equipped to receive the faculty of sensation, but are not themselves sentient. He notes the dissenting voice of the philosopher Boethus of Sidon, who argued that the elements are themselves sentient, by an analogy to the soul. Two syllogisms of Boethus are displayed and dismissed out of hand.

Chapter Eight: Ḥunayn pushes on relentlessly. He declares that he has succeeded in proving that the view of Hippocrates alone is correct, and that Plato, Aristotle and Galen all were compelled to accept it. The elements of all that is subject to generation and corruption are earth, water, air, and fire. Generation and corruption, in turn, are processes that are due specifically to “mixture” and “transformation”. Though there has been no discussion at all of the alternative theories, which ascribe the physical transformations to “combination” or “arrangement”, these are said to be false. Indeed Galen, On the Elements 9.11, (trans. De Lacy, p. 131) cites Hippocrates' rejection of two alternative theories: “and from his earlier proof (i.e. Hippocrates') that the whole substance is altered he knew that (that other view) is refuted, that the visible alteration of bodies is not by separation and combination, as Epicurus and Democritus believed, and as Anaxagoras and Empedocles also believed in a different way”.

Ḥunayn moves on to biology, which, as we have stressed repeatedly, is the field of interest to him all along. In searching for the correct concept of element, an important distinction between living beings and minerals must be drawn: plants and animals exist as individual units, which come to be, maintain themselves for a certain period of time, and then pass away. It is thus possible to follow their development from beginning to end, and to learn what the elements of their generation and corruption are. Plants need all four elements for their growth and sustenance. Animals feed on plants, and humans feed on animals. Therefore, earth, water, fire and air are the elements of all biological entities. Indeed, animals, including humans, consume elements directly in one way or another.

Chapter Nine: Having established to his satisfaction that earth, water, air and fire are the universal elements and, as such, also the remote elements of the human body, Ḥunayn now applies himself to the task of identifying the body's proximate elements. Following Galen, who has defined the element as the smallest part of that of which it is an element, the proximate elements will be those smallest parts that are apparent to the senses; the four Empedoclean elements (to use a term which we use, but not he) are perceptible only to the intellect. The proximate elements are the homoeomerous parts, such as bone and cartilage. Galen indeed declared that the homoeomerous parts are “least and simplest parts … on the visible level” and hence elements of the human body.Footnote ²⁹

But there is an alternative approach that must be reckoned with. If one looks at the original form of the human, it is the fetus. The fetus in turn comes about from sperm and blood; but sperm too derives from blood. Thus one can argue – in fact, someone has argued, as we learn also from the passages near the end of Galen's On the Elements – that there is a single “element” of the human body, namely blood. (Note that blood is called here ʿunṣur, not usṭuquss; see our discussion above). This claim is rejected on empirical grounds, though neither the observation nor, in particular, the reasoning is clear. According to Ḥunayn, one can detect in it – in what? Apparently, the sensible fetus, perhaps a fluid expelled by a woman in the earliest stages of (an aborted) pregnancy – various features that correspond to the four humours. So even if the fetus comes from blood, it has within it the four elements. Ḥunayn argues further that one finds the four humours in different discharges from the body, both natural discharges (such as expectorates) and unnatural discharges brought about by strong drugs or poisons.

There were physicians who argued for each one of the four humours being the sole element of the body, just as there were physicists who argued on behalf of each of the four “Empedoclean” elements. Ḥunayn follows both Hippocrates (On the Nature of Man 2–3) and Galen in tackling only the view that the element is blood. The epitome, by contrast, in its admittedly brief discussion in chapter five, looks to be giving equal weight to all four alternatives.Footnote ³⁰ Later, though, in chapter eleven, the epitome takes on in detail the claim that blood is the element.

Clearly and silently, Ḥunayn has changed his position in response to this alternative theory. The most basic elements of the body are no longer the homoeomerous organs, but rather the four humours, which, in fact, are introduced here for the first time. Galen notes that the simplest visible elements of the human body are the homeomerous organs.Footnote ³¹ These are generated from the elements closest to them, which are the four humours. The humours in turn derive from what humans eat and drink, which ultimately come from the four universal elements (earth, air, fire, water); and those elements derive from “matter” (hyle) and “qualities”, which are not called “elements” but rather “first principles” (archē).

Chapter Ten: In this chapter Ḥunayn argues against Athenaeus, who held that the elements (speaking, however, like Galen, of the human body specifically) are the hot, the dry, the moist, and the cold. But a body is called “hot”, for example, when heat is dominant in it. The dominance of heat depends on the constitution of that particular body; for different constitutions, different amounts of heat are required for heat to be dominant. Consequently, there is an unlimited amount of “hot”'s that would serve as elements; but we have already agreed (though as a result of arguing against totally different theories) that there is not an infinity of elements. If instead we chose to define the hot as that in which heat is present at its maximum limit, then we have arrived at the definition of fire! Perhaps, though, one would counter that the element is maximum hotness, rather than the body that carries heat at its maximum. In that case, a quality (hot) is the source of a “substance”, i.e. the hot body; but that is patently absurd. In sum, the elements are not the qualities themselves, but rather the bodies that possess the four qualities at their maximum.

Chapter Eleven: In this short chapter, Ḥunayn sums up the results of his investigations. There are three kinds of elements. The ultimate (we would call them “primary” but he seems to avoid that term, probably as not to confuse them with the archē) are earth, air, fire and water; they are the elements of everything that falls under the category of generation and corruption. The second group is intermediate among the groups, and its members are the proximate elements of the human body. They are the four humours: blood, phlegm, and the two biles. Finally, there are homeomerous organs which are common to all living things. Ḥunayn promises to follow this treatise with another on the mixtures and transformations of the elements.

NOTES ON TRANSLATIONS

There are two issues that must be addressed here. The first concerns a few important examples of early Arabic terminologies, which we shall discuss first.

We wish to draw attention here to three technical terms. The first of these is ʿunṣur, which, as we have seen, denotes in our text prime, undifferentiated matter and thus fulfills the physical function of substratum. Indeed, in Ḥunayn's translation of Galen's On Critical Days, the Greek ὕλη is translated ʿunṣur.Footnote ³² Walbridge notes at the beginning of his translation that some manuscripts of the Alexandrian epitome “periodically gloss ʿunṣur” with usṭuquss. He further notes that in that translation, Ḥunayn prefers usṭuquss even though, as a rule, he avoids loanwords from the Greek.

In chapter nine of our treatise (passage three), and in a very different context, ʿunṣur means prime matter or basic stuff, not of the universe, but of the human body. There Ḥunayn is arguing against the claim that there is a single proximate element of the human body, namely blood; and here blood is called ʿunṣur. Ḥunayn (following Galen) is willing to concede that the body comes to be from blood; but blood can be analyzed into four components, which are the four humours. These humours deserve to be called the elements (usṭuqussāt) of the human body.

Moreover, an early writer such as Saʿadya, who had access to various versions of the Platonic cosmogony, says explicitly that ʿunṣur and usṭuquss are synonymous;Footnote ³³ they are obviously not, according to our author. Later authors such as Ibn Sīnā sometimes distinguish between the two terms, but on other occasions take them to be synonyms.Footnote ³⁴ An historical dictionary of Arabic scientific terminology, should such a project ever be undertaken, would be the place to trace the post-Ḥunayn usages of this important term. In the GAL,Footnote ³⁵ vol. 1, pp. 218–20, usṭuquss is mentioned for Greek στοιχεῖον “element”, but also for Greek σῶμα: “body” (i.e. substance, element, as it features in Aristotle, Gen. anim.). Indeed, Ibn Sīnā switches the meanings of the two terms as they appear in our text.

As for the origin of the term: it is doubtful if philology alone can be helpful here. The only attempt at an explanation that we have seen was made by H. A. Wolfson some sixty-five years ago.Footnote ³⁶ According to Wolfson, ʿunṣur means something pressed out, or juice, and as such came to be identified with the Galenic humour. Whether or not this analysis holds true, this is certainly not the meaning of ʿunṣur in the text before us. ʿUnṣur is used in the epitome of Galen's On the Elements, but there – as in Saʿadya and others – it looks to be synonymous with usṭuquss. Dimitri Gutas criticized Hans Daiber for using four different words to translate ʿunṣur in his study of the Arabic Aetius. According to Gutas, “strict lexical correspondence certainly cannot be demanded or always achieved; but the semantic fluidity exhibited by these examples is neither indicated by the Arabic text nor required by the translation.”Footnote ³⁷ Our brief investigations seem to point to considerable semantic fluidity.

The second term is ḥayyiz and especially the participle mutaḥayyiz. Ḥayyiz, meaning roughly “space”, and mutaḥayyiz, “confined to space” are important technical terms in early kalām atomism. They have been studied closely by Alnoor Dhanani, who traced the earliest occurrences of the term in the kalām literature.Footnote ³⁸ They are employed by the philosopher Ibn Sīnā who, however, seriously engaged kalām physics.Footnote ³⁹ But now we encounter it in an early work of Galenic physics, ascribed to an atomist who denied the void. Its appearance here is yet another indication of the strong link between kalām atomism and the Galenic tradition, a link that was established by Langermann.Footnote ⁴⁰

The third and final term which we shall mention is jāmiʿ, meaning syllogism. Joep Lameer observes, “The term qiyās which came to be the standard Arabic counterpart of Aristotle's syllogismos, is used consistently throughout the Parisian copy of the Arabic Prior Analytics except for a few instances where we find jāmiʿa and sulūjismus or sulījismus instead”.Footnote ⁴¹ The feminine form, jāmiʿa, is mentioned by the late tenth century encyclopedist Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Kātib al-Khwārizmī in his al-Ḥudūd al-Falsafiyya (Philosophical Definitions); he also transcribes the Greek συλλογισμός as sūlūjismūs as part of his definition.Footnote ⁴²

The other issue concerns the proper way to prepare a modern translation. All too often, translations of Arabic texts are prepared by “arabisants” (better to use the French term rather than the politically-loaded “orientalist”) who are meticulous as far as dictionary meanings go, but do not always exhibit the same level of concern for giving the translation the diction most appropriate for its topic – in this case, physics. This issue crops up in our text with regard to one Arabic word form in particular, the seventh form of the verb fa‛ala; and we are not the first to notice its difficulty.

Literally, infaʿala means “to suffer change”, “to be affected”. In psychology (ʿilm al-nafs) it means “to become agitated”, that is to say, “to react emotionally”. In physics it means “to react”, that is to say, to respond to an external stimulus. We have translated accordingly. Thus munfāʿil is usually rendered “reactive”, ghayr munfāʿil “inert”, infiʿāl “reactiveness”, and so forth.

Note that the Greek parallel paskhein means both “to be affected” and “to be pained”.Footnote ⁴³ To be sure, suffering pain is one way in which a body is affected, but it is also the most important example for Galen's biological argument against atomism. The Greek verb algein means specifically “to be pained”; Hippocrates uses the latter, but Galen prefers paskhein. See Walbridge's note to the beginning of the third chapter of the epitome for discussion of this interesting point. Our text uses infaʿala exclusively, whereas the epitome often uses alima, which, like algein, has the specific meaning of being pained.