greater etherealization and more efficient occupation of the mind-from knowledge of accomplishing the useful, to knowledge of accomplishing the esthetic, to "pure" knowledge.
Knowledge for itself alone seeks answers to such questions as "How high is the sky?" or "Why does a stone fall?" This is sheer curiosity-curiosity at its idlest and therefore perhaps at its most peremptory.  After all, it serves no apparent purpose to know how high the sky is or why the stone falls.  The lofty sky does not interfere with the ordinary busi-ness of life, and, as for the stone, knowing why it falls does not help us to dodge it more skillfully or soften the blow if it happens to hit us.  Yet there have always been people who ask such apparently useless questions and try to answer them out of the sheer desire to know-out of the absolute necessity of keeping the brain working.
The obvious method of dealing with such questions is to make up an esthetically satisfying answer: one that has sufficient analogies to what is already known to be comprehensible and plausible.  The ex-pression "to make up" is rather bald and unromantic.  The ancients liked to think of the process of discovery as the inspiration of the muses or a revelation from heaven.  In any case, whether it was inspiration, revela-tion or the kind of creative 'thinking that goes into storytelling, their explanations depended heavily on analogy.  The lightning bolt is destructive and terrifying, but it appears, after all, to be burled like a weapon and does the damage of a burled weapon-a fantastically violent one.  Such a weapon must have a wielder similarly enlarged in scale, and so the thunderbolt becomes the hammer of 'nor or the flashing spear of Zeus.  The more-than-normal weapon is wielded by a more-than-normal man.

Thus a myth is born, The forces of nature are personified and be-come gods.  The myths react on one another, are built up and improved by generations of mytbtellers until the original point may be obscured.  Some may degenerate into pretty stories (or ribald ones), whereas others I may gain an ethical content important enough to make them meaning -ful within the framework of a major religion. just as art may be fine or applied, so may mythology.  Myths may be maintained for their esthetic charm, or they . may be bent to the physical uses of mankind.  For instance, the earliest farmers would be intensely concerned with the phenomenon of rain and why it fell so capriciously.  The fertilizing rain falling from the heavens on the earth presented an obvious analogy to the sex act, and, by personifying both heaven and earth, man found an easy explanation of the release or with-holding of the rains.  Ile earth-goddess, or the sky-god, was either pleased or offended, as the case might be.  Once this myth was accepted, farmers bad a plausible basis for bringing rain; namely, appeasing the god by ap-propriate rites.  These rites might well be orgiastic in nature-aii attempt to influence heaven and earth by example.

The Greek myths are among the prettiest and most sophisticated in our literary and cultural heritage.  But it was the Greeks also who, in due course, introduced the opposite way of looking at the universe-that is, as something impersonal and inanimate.  To the mythmakers, every aspect of nature was essentially human in its unpredictability.  How-ever mighty and mai estic the personification, however superhuman Zeus or Marduk or Odin might be in powers, they were also-like mere men -frivolous, whimsical, emotional, capable of outrageous behavior for petty reasons, susceptible to childish bribes.  As long as the universe was in the control of such arbitrary and unpredictable deities, there was no hope of understanding it, only the shallow hope of appeasing it.  But in the new view of the later Greek thinkers, the universe was a machine governed by inflexible laws.  The Greek philosophers now devoted them-selves to the exciting intellectual exercise of trying to discover just what the laws of nature might be.
The first to do so, according to Greek tradition, was Thales of Mile-tus, about 600 B.C. He was saddled with an almost impossible number of discoveries by later Greek writers, and it may be that he first brought the gathered Babylonian knowledge to the Greek world.  His most spectacu-lar achievement was that of predicting, an eclipse for 585 B.c.-and having it take place.
In engaging in this intellectual exercise, the Greeks assumed, of course nature would play fair; that, if attacked in the proper manner  yield its secrets and would not change position or attitude in mid-play. (Thousands of years later Albert Einstein expressed this feeling when he said, "God may be subtle, but he is not malicious.") There was also the feeling that the natural laws, when found, would be comprehensible.  This Greek optimism has never entirely left the human race.
With confidence in the fair play of nature, man needed to work out an orderly system for learn'ng how to determine the underlying law from the observed data.  To progress from one point to another by established rules of argument is to use "reason." A reasoner may use "Intuition" to guide his search for answers, but be must rely on sound logic to test his
theories.  To take a simple example: if brandy and water, whiskey and water, vodka and water, and rum and water are all in toxicating bev-erages, one ma y jump to the conclusion that the intoxicating factor must be the ingredient these drinks hold in common-namely, water.  There is something wrong with this reasoning, but the fault in t he logic is not immediately obvious, and in more subtle cases the error may be hard in deed to discover.
The tracking-down of errors or fallacies in reasoning has amused thinkers from Greek times to the present.  And of course we owe the earliest foundations of systematic logic to Aristotle of Stagira who in the fourth century B.C. first summarized the rules of rigorous reasoning.