"Tiberius would say you'd have to keep going to find out," Gaius said in a non-conciliatory tone.
"I know," Timothy shrugged, and added without thinking, "One of the prices you pay for being a slave is you have to keep going."
"Then how about getting on with it, and stop feeling sorry for your piece of bad luck, which, I might add, so far has been nowhere nearly as bad as you seem to make out!"
"We'll see," Timothy said. He had to pull himself together, for the boy was right in one way. His life had not been anywhere nearly as bad as it might have been, or might yet be. "So, the goal is to get you to think! What we Greeks prize is logic. ."
One or two Greeks might, Gaius thought to himself. What most Greeks prized was gold, and the knowledge of how to extract it from unsuspecting visitors.
". . It enables you to see through what would otherwise delude you, to find the truth. That is what makes a great general, a great philosopher, a great storyteller, a great anything. Who would you say was the greatest general that ever lived?"
"The best at winning battles was Alexander, although nothing lasted."
"That's true," Timothy agreed, "but Alexander may have been equally effective there had he lived. But that's not my point. What I want you to think about was why was Alexander so great? Was he stronger? Did he. ."
"He was smarter," Gaius interrupted, "and he had a professional army of battle-hardened veterans."
"And who made him so smart?"
"You're going to say, his teacher."
"A successful prediction! His teacher was Aristotle, the greatest scientist and philosopher of all time," Timothy said. "So Alexander was neither a scientist nor a philosopher, but he was a thinker. Now, I shall send you to a teacher of mathematics and astronomy, and we shall cover logic and physics, and also some military campaigns of which I have records. I am going to try to make you think about things of which you have no previous experience, to see if you can be original. Originality was what made Alexander great so be here tomorrow, ready to think."
Chapter 7
"Today," Timothy said in a challenging tone, "I give you two opposite views: I give you physics, and I give you anti-physics."
He stared at Gaius, who sat impassively. "Firstly, anti-physics. For this we turn to Socrates, who put it quite bluntly. Physics are useless, because they do not help the soul." He continued to stare, until finally he said, "Comment please?"
Gaius thought for a minute, then said slowly, to gain more time, "Since you have not taught me what is in physics, I cannot say whether the statement is true or not."
"Is that all you can contribute?"
"I think the statement is also irrelevant," Gaius said. "Food does nothing for the soul, but it could not be described as useless."
"A typically Roman view," Timothy noted. "If it's there, use it."
"Better than the Greek view of, if it's there, contemplate it," Gaius retorted. There was a challenge on Gaius' face, but there was also the hint of a smile.
Timothy stared at him, then finally a smile crossed his face. "Perhaps. Well, let's start at the beginning with Thales, a military engineer who learned to predict eclipses, to measure things better than others had, and, in order for his army to win a battle, to divert a river into the enemy. He believed that everything could be explained without reference to the Gods, by forming general principles based on what we know, and hypotheses for what we do not. He used geometry, which you seem to be so taken with, and proved a theorem in which if a triangle is drawn within a circle that includes the diameter, then the angle opposite the diameter is a right angle." Timothy paused. Where was all this going? Was he wasting his time? It might be a waste, but he had to keep going, because that is what slaves did. "He also began to ask the right questions, such as where did life begin? His opinion was water, which was thus fundamental to life. Comment?"
"Comment?" Gaius said with a frown. This was unexpected.
"Your job is not to sit comfortably in the sun," Timothy said. "Your job is to think."
"Diverting a river was clever," Gaius replied. The fact was, he noted to himself, Timothy was correct. He had been very comfortable, the sun streaming on his face. His mind had almost begun to wander. Could he be so transparent?
"Now, how did I know you would focus on that!"
"Knowing how to select the right questions to ask would be a big advance," Gaius offered. What did this wretched Greek want?
"Now, there's an advance," Timothy nodded. "I half suspect you were thinking more of your own situation than that of Thales, but still, that's an advance."
"I also think," Gaius said in a more assertive tone, "that Thales did not take his own advice."
"Oh?" At this point Timothy was puzzled.
"The right question is one that is potentially answerable," Gaius said in a challenging tone. "There are far too many unknowns to contemplate answering where life began."
"Interesting response," Timothy growled. "It shows quite clearly the cultural divide between Greeks and Romans. Greeks inquire about everything, Romans only inquire when they know the answer anyway."
"Greeks idle their time away speculating about everything and getting nowhere," Gaius retorted, "while Romans get on and do something."
"You think Thales idled away his time?"
Gaius looked at Timothy, and noticed the mix of fear and challenge. He had to do his best to remove that fear, so he smiled and replied as cautiously and as timidly as he could, "Perhaps you could give me an example of where he did not?"
"Then consider this," Timothy offered. "According to Aristotle, early one year, Thales predicted a really good harvest so he reserved all the olive presses at a discount, and when demand peaked he rented them out at a much higher price, thus showing you could make money through. ."
"Taking advantage of the plodders!" Gaius interrupted. "Yes, a fine example, and yes, Romans also speculate."
"Then we have your exercise for tomorrow," Timothy smiled. "Read up more about Thales, and also contemplate whether there is something in between speculating about everything and getting nowhere or restricting yourself to what you know, and whether being in between is desirable."
* * *
"Your thoughts on the asking of questions, please?"
"One view," Gaius started, "is that if it is impossible to get a useful answer, the question is valueless."
"One view? Is that your view?"
"However," Gaius continued, ignoring the interruption, "if one has no idea whether an answer can eventually be obtained, or what it will be, one should not simply dismiss the question." Timothy stared at Gaius as he continued, "In that case, use or uselessness depends on the unknown chance of getting an answer. It is desirable to ask the next answerable question, but that begs the question of how to recognize it. So, I suppose that leaves two options: ask away, and hope the questions are not futile, or to try to make small, miniscule steps. You seem to have a choice of a miniscule chance of making a huge advance, or a huge chance of making a miniscule advance." He paused and shrugged as he added, "The Roman way at least has the advantage of being successful."
"So far," Timothy mumbled.
"So far," Gaius agreed. "However, it seems to me that adopting the second policy of keeping one's eyes open in case the first answers itself has a lot going for it."
"For a Roman, it would," Timothy nodded, then he pulled himself together. Irritating his master was not in a slave's best interests. "So, back to physics. Did you learn anything else from Thales?"
"I made sparks," Gaius shrugged. "Whether that is useful is another matter."
"Explain!"
"Thales found that if you rubbed some materials like amber with fur, the amber would attract hair, and if you rubbed hard enough, you could make little sparks. So I got some amber and tried my hand at it. It works, but the sparks are very small, and I regard it more as a curiosity."