So we have ventured to render,—τοῦτο δὲ πέφυκεν ἀναλογία κάλλιστα

ἀποτελεῖν. On the whole subject, see Stallbaum’s long and satisfactory

note.

Footnote 275:

Gr. ἓν ὅλον ἑκάστου,—one whole, without deficiency or superfluity,—the

τὸ τέλειον, alluded to by Aristotle, Metaph. iv. § 16.

Footnote 276:

On these seven kinds of motions, comp. ch. xviii. of this dialogue, p.

348.

-----

XII.—Thus was it, that the intelligence of the eternal Deity, after due

reflection, conceived the form of the god about to come into existence;

and he made it smooth, equable, and even from its centre in every

direction,—a body whole and perfect, wholly composed out of perfect

bodies. As for the soul, he fixed it in the middle, extended it

throughout the whole, and likewise surrounded with it its entire

surface:—and so, causing a circle to revolve in a circle, he established

the world as one substantive, solitary object, self-sufficient through

its own excellence, requiring nothing external, but sufficiently known

and friendly to itself. By this procedure, then, he produced the

Universe, a blessed god. The Deity, however, did not, as we now

undertake to say, form the soul posterior and junior to the body: for he

who conjoined these, would never have allowed the more ancient nature to

be governed by the younger:—and yet we, who are exposed to the blind

chances of fortune, are apt to speak somehow in this silly fashion;

whereas the Deity constituted the soul both in age and excellence prior

to and older than the body, as being the proper mistress and ruler of

its subject [the body;] and that, too, from the following sources, and

in the following manner.

From one essence indivisible, and always the same, and from another

again that is divisible and corporeal, he composed—by admixture from

both—a third form of _essence_ intermediate between the two; and again,

between what is indivisible and divisible as respects bodies, he placed

the nature of _same_ and _different_ (or mutable);—and taking these

three, he mingled them all into one idea, joining them together by

force, as the _different_ would not freely mingle with the _same_. And

after mingling them with _essence_, and producing one from the three, he

again distributed this whole into suitable parts; each composed of a

mixture of _same_, _different_, and _essence_. He next began to divide

as follows:—In the first place, he took away one part from the whole;

then he separated a second part, double of the first: and again, a

third, one-and-a-half times as much as the second, but triple of the

first; then a fourth, double of the second; in the next place a fifth,

triple of the third: a sixth, octuple of the first: and lastly a

seventh, twenty-seven times greater than the first. After this, he

filled up the double and triple intervals, still taking off parts

therefrom, and so placed them between the intervals, that there might be

two media between every interval; one of which might, in the same

degree, exceed one of the extremes, and be exceeded by the other, while

the other part might in an equal degree exceed one of the extremes, and

be exceeded by the other. But as by the intermediate links between the

above-mentioned spaces the sesquialter, sesquitertian, and sesquioctave

intervals were produced, he filled with a sesquioctave all the

sesquitertian intervals,[277] leaving a part of each, the interval

between which and the following would have to each other the same ratio

as the numbers 256 and 243; and in truth he thus exhausted the whole

mixture—from which these were separated. He split the whole of this

composition, then, along its entire length into two parts, joining them

mutually across like the letter X, afterwards bending them into a

circle, and connecting them both with themselves and each other, in such

a way that their extremities might meet directly opposite the point of

their mutual intersection, externally comprehending them in an uniform

motion around the same centre; besides which, he made one of the circles

external, the other internal.[278] The motion of the exterior circle he

proclaimed to be that of sameness, and that of the interior the motion

of difference. He caused also the circle of sameness to revolve

laterally towards the right, and that of difference diagonally towards

the left. And the superiority he gave to the circulation of same and

similar; for this alone he suffered to remain undivided;—while, as to

that within, after dividing into six parts, and forming therefrom seven

unequal circles, divided by double and triple intervals, three of each,

he bade these circles travel in contrary directions to each other,—three

of the seven to revolve at equal velocities, the remaining four with a

velocity unequal as respects either of the former three, yet in a

certain proportion as to their respective periods.

-----

Footnote 277:

Gr. ἡμιολίων δὲ διαστασέων καὶ ἐπιτρίτων καὶ ἐπογδόων γενομένων ἐκ

τούτων τῶν δεσμῶν ἐν ταῖς πρόσθε διαστάσεσι, τῷ τοῦ ἐπογδόου

διαστήματι τὰ ἐπίτριτα πάντα ξυνεπληροῦντο, &c. The whole paragraph is

very difficult, owing to the very scanty records left us respecting

the nature of the ancient Harmonics.

Footnote 278:

The whole of this Pythagorean-like speculation on Harmonics has been

variously explained by Cousin, Stallbaum, and Martin (as well as

Böckh, in many of his learned tracts). It may here simply be observed,

that the two harmonic scales, thus split down their length and

crossed, formed two circles or orbits, one (θάτερον) revolving within

the other (ταὐτόν), but in an opposite direction. These, according to

many commentators, correspond with the equatorial and zodiacal

circles(?).

-----

XIII.—After, therefore, the whole composition of the [universal] soul

had been completed according to the intention of God who framed it, he

in the next place formed within it the whole of a corporeal nature; and

he aptly jointed them, by uniting centre to centre. The former (the

soul), being interwoven throughout from the middle to the very

extremities of space, and covering it even all around externally, though

at the same time herself revolving within herself, originated the divine

commencement of an unceasing and wise life throughout all time. And

indeed the body of the universe was generated in visible shape; while

the soul, though invisible, was made to partake of reason and harmony,

and rendered the best of created things by Him—the best of eternal

intelligences. The soul, then, being composed from the admixture of the

three parts, same, different, and essence, classified as well as bound

together in certain proportions, and itself revolving inwardly on

itself, whenever it comes in contact either with anything mutable or

indivisible, at once declares by its intrinsic energy with what anything

is identical, and from what it differs, and also with reference to what,

where, how, and when it happens, both as regards its own separate

essence and its external affections, either in things generated, or such

as possess an eternal sameness.[279] When our talk, then, is about

truth, and consistent with itself,—whether, on the one hand, it be about

things mutable or things constant, and is silently and noiselessly borne

onward by its own motion, or when it is concerned about things sensible,

and the circle of difference reports on its onward passage to every part

of the soul, then arise fixed and true opinions and persuasions:—but

when, on the other hand, it is concerned about the merely rational, and

the glibly-whirling circle of sameness makes its indications,—then

intellect and science are thus necessarily brought to full perfection.

And as respects the real essence in which these two qualities are

engendered, if any one asserts that it is any other than the soul, he

will assert everything rather than the truth.

-----

Footnote 279:

Gr. καὶ ὁπότε συμβαίνει κατὰ τὰ γιγνόμενα τε πρὸς ἕκαστον ἕκαστα εἶναι

καὶ πάσχειν καὶ πρὸς τὰ κατὰ ταὐτὰ ἔχοντα ἀεί. The whole sentence is

difficult,—not so much from its obscureness, as its pregnancy of

meaning, which all but defies translation. The same remark applies to

the phrase—λόγος ὁ κατὰ ταὐτὸν ἀληθὴς γιγνόμενος—in the succeeding

sentence. See Stallbaum and Martin _ad locum_.

-----

XIV.—When the parent Creator perceived that this created image of the

eternal gods had life and motion, he was delighted with his work, and by

this very delight he was led to consider how he might make it still more

to resemble its exemplar. Hence, as the _intelligible_ universe was an

eternal animal, he tried to make this [the _sensible_ universe], as far

as he could, similarly perfect. The nature indeed of the animal itself

was eternal, and this nature could not be entirely adopted into any

thing subject to generation;—hence God resolved to form a certain

moveable image of eternity; and thus, while he was disposing the parts

of the universe, he, out of that eternity which rests in unity, formed

an eternal image on the principle of numbers;—and to this we give the

appellation of _Time_. But besides this, he contrived the days and

nights, months and years, which had no existence prior to the universe,

but rose into being contemporaneously with its formation. All these are

but the parts of time; and the terms _it was_ and _it will be_ are

generated [_i. e._, varying and evanescent] forms of time, which we have

wrongly and unawares transferred to an eternal essence. For we say that

a thing was, is, and will be; while according to truth, the term _it

is_, is alone suitable,—_was_ and _will be_ being expressions only

suitable to generation, which proceeds through time,—both of them being

certain motions:—whereas, what exists eternally, the same and

immoveable, neither becomes at any time older or younger; neither has it

been generated in the past, nor will be in the future, nor is it subject

to those accidents which generation imposes on sensible objects,—all of

which are nothing more than forms of time imitating eternity, and moving

in a circle measured by number. And besides this, in making such

assertions as these,—that what has been generated is generated,—that

what is becoming, is in generation,—that what will be is to be,—and that

non-being is not;—in all this we state what is not accurately true. But

this is perhaps not the place for a minute discussion of these matters.

Time, then, was generated with the universe, in order that, being

produced together, they might together be dissolved, if their

dissolution should ever happen:—and it was formed on the model of an

eternal nature, that it might as far as possible resemble it; for this

model exists through all eternity, while the world, on the other hand,

has been generated, now exists, and will exist, throughout all time.

With this design, then, and after such reflection on the generation of

time, the Deity, in order that it might be produced in full operation,

created the sun, moon, and the five other stars, which are denominated

planets, to distinguish and guard over the numbers of time. And as soon

as he had produced the bodies of these stars, God placed them, seven in

number, in the seven orbits whose revolutions are according to

difference;[280]—the Moon, indeed, in the first orbit nearest about the

earth; the Sun in the second beyond the earth; then Lucifer (_i. e._

Venus), and the star sacred to Hermes (_i. e._ Mercury), revolving in

their orbits as swiftly as the sun, but on a different principle of

motion, owing to which these stars, the Sun, Lucifer, and Mercury,

mutually overtake and are overtaken by each other in their respective

courses. As respects the other stars, however, the labour of

investigating their revolutions, and the causes that gave them origin,

would surpass that of the discourse itself which caused their mention.

These subjects, then, may hereafter, perhaps, when we have leisure, meet

with the investigation they deserve.

-----

Footnote 280:

Gr. ἔθηκεν εἰς τὰς περιφοράς, ἃς ἡ θατέρου περίοδος ἤειν, &c.

-----

When, therefore, each of the stars necessary for the constitution of

time had obtained a motion adapted to its condition, and their bodies,

bound by living chains, had become vital beings and learned their

prescribed duty, they pursued their course according to the movement of

difference, passing obliquely through the orbit of sameness, to which

the former is subordinate, one circle being larger and the other

smaller, one moving quicker and the other more slowly; those that

revolved the quickest on the principle of sameness appearing ever to

overtake and be overtaken by those that travelled at slower velocities.

And the revolutions of all these circles in their orbits with a spiral

motion,[281] proceeding at one and the same time in two contrary

directions, make it appear that the one moving at the slowest pace from

that which was the most swift is the nearest of all. And in order that

there might be a certain apparent measure of slowness and swiftness in

the relative velocities of these spheres, and an evident uniformity in

all the eight movements, the Deity enkindled a light, which we now

denominate the sun, in the second of these orbits, in order that it

might fully display all things in the universe, and that such animals as

required it might have their share in number,[282] becoming acquainted

therewith from the revolution of sameness and similarity. Thus, then,

and on these accounts, arose night and day; being the period of the one

and most skilfully-contrived movement.[283] The month, too, was

generated, when the moon had run through her orbit, and passed into

conjunction with the sun,—and the year, when the sun had completely

travelled through his own orbit. As to the periods of the other stars,

however, they are not understood, except by a very few; nor are they

distinguished by any peculiar name or relatively measured on the

principle of numbers:—and hence it may be said, they are ignorant that

these movements really constitute time, infinite as they are in number

and of wonderful variety. Still it is by no means impossible to

conceive, how the perfect number of time completes a perfect year, when

the courses of the eight orbits return at their completion to the same

place of commencement, and have their revolution measured on the

principle of sameness. In this manner, indeed, and for this purpose,

were formed such of the stars as moved circularly through the

universe,—that this (the visible animal, _i. e._ the universe) might

resemble as nearly as possible the most perfect intelligible animal, in

the imitation of an eternal nature.

-----

Footnote 281:

Gr. πάντας γὰρ τοὺς κύκλους αὐτῶν στρέφουσα ἕλικα. On this

construction, see Matth. Gr. Gr. § 408.

Footnote 282:

The sun, he means, was provided with light that those animals, that

required it, might gain a knowledge of number, _i. e._ of the

principle on which the world is formed and now moves.

Footnote 283:

In the Timæus Locrus it is said (p. 432 of Stallbaum, vol. vii.), that

it is day, when the sun travels from east to west, and night when it

travels from west to east;—and Plato must necessarily have thought

this, as he held the earth to be immoveable, without any motion even

round its own axis. Comp. Aristot. de Cœlo, II. ch. 13.

-----

XV.—The Creator constructed all the rest at the same time as the

generation of time,[284] according to the similitude of that which has

been portrayed; but still, as the universe did not yet comprise within

it the entire animal race, in this respect there was a dissimilarity.

This defect, therefore, [the Creator] supplied by impressing it with

forms corresponding with the nature of its pattern. Wherever, therefore,

the intellect beholds ideas of a certain quality, and quantity in that

which possesses life, such and so many he conceived that this (the

universe) should contain; and these are four:—One, the heavenly race of

gods; another, winged and air-wandering race; a third, that which dwells

in the water; and a fourth, that which has feet and walks on the ground.

The chief idea, indeed, of deity, he formed from fire, that it might be

as far as possible splendid and fair to behold; and in adapting it to

the universe, he rendered it circular; made it to consist in the

knowledge of that good which it is to follow, and distributed it round

the entire heavens, that it might be a true world, fully adorned with

that race in its every part. To each of the divine bodies, also, he

adapted two motions;—one of them taking place on the same spot and on

the principle of sameness, corresponding with that intelligence which

contemplates what is the same with itself; the other, a progressive

motion subordinate to the motion that is constantly the same and

similar:[285]—but as respects the other five motions, it was fixed

immoveable, that each of them might become as far as possible the best.

And for this reason also the fixed stars were formed, as being divine

and eternal animals, ever abiding and revolving in the same place and on

the principle of sameness; and the stars, which both revolve and have

the kind of motion above described, were formed on those

principles.[286] Next, he formed the earth our common nourisher, which,

being confined round the axis that extends through the universe, is the

guardian and artificer of night and day, as well as the first and most

ancient of the gods that have been generated within the universe. With

respect, however, to the dances [or rhythmical motions] of these

divinities, and the mutual intersection of their circles, as well as

their relative revolutions and progressive motions in their conjunctions

and oppositions, whether in progressive or retrograde motion, at what

times and in what manner they are in turn eclipsed, and afterwards

reappear to our view, causing terror and presaging future events to such

as are able to understand them;—to attempt an explanation of all this,

without having a plan of them before us, would be a labour in vain. But

of this enough; and this is all that we shall say concerning the nature

of the visible and generated gods.

-----

Footnote 284:

Gr. τὰ μὲν ἄλλα ἤδη μέχρι χρόνου γενέσεως. The old edd. read εἴδη.

Footnote 285:

Plato is here describing two motions of the universe,—one on the

principle of ταὐτόν (which is that of intelligence) round its own

axis, the other on that of θάτερον (that which the soul of the world

is formed), progressive, the latter of which—viz. sensible creation,

is wholly subordinate to the former.

Footnote 286:

Gr. τὰ δὲ τρεπόμενα καὶ πλάνην τοιαύτην ἴσχοντα——κατ’ ἐκεῖνα γέγονε.

-----

XVI.—Again, to speak concerning the other gods (or dæmons), and to know

their generation, is more than we can perform; and we must trust to the

reports of those ancient men, who being, as they said, the descendants

of the gods, must have a clear knowledge of their parents. It is

impossible, therefore, to discredit the children of the gods; and even

though they should speak without probable and cogent proofs, yet as they

declare that they are relating matters with which they are familiarly

acquainted, we ought, in compliance with the law, to assent to their

tradition. In this manner, then, according to them, the generation of

these gods took place, and is described.

Ocean and Tethys were the progeny of Heaven and Earth; and from these

sprang Phorcys, Kronos, and Rhea, and ever so many more with them;—and

from Kronos and Rhea sprang Zeus, Hera (Jupiter, Juno), and all that we

know are called their brethren, together with others still who were

their progeny.[287] When therefore all such gods as visibly revolve, and

show themselves when they please, were generated, the Artificer of the

universe thus addressed them: “Gods of gods, of whom I am the creator

and father, all things formed by me are by my will indissoluble. Indeed,

what is bound is of course dissoluble; nevertheless, to desire to

dissolve what is beautifully harmonized and well disposed, is the mark

of an evil nature. Now, inasmuch as you have been generated, you are

hence not immortal, nor wholly indissoluble; yet you shall never be

dissolved, nor become subject to the fatality of death; because you have

got my will [that it shall be so,] which is a much greater and more

powerful bond than those by which you were bound when first created.

Learn, therefore, what I now say to you by way of information. Three

classes of mortals yet remain uncreated. Unless these be created, then,

the universe will be imperfect; for it will not contain within it every

kind of animal, though it ought, in order to be quite perfect. Yet if

these are generated, and partake of life through me, they will become

equal to the gods. In order, then, that mortal natures may subsist, and

the universe may be truly all, turn yourselves, according to your

nature, to the formation of animals, imitating the power which I

employed in the creation of yourselves. And so far as any part of these

is suited to have the same name as immortals to be called divine, and

destined to take the lead among those who willingly pursue justice, and

reverence you—of these I myself will deliver the seeds and beginnings;

and for the rest do you weave together the mortal and immortal nature,

constructing and generating animals, and promote their growth too by

supplying them with food, and receive them back again [into your bosom]

when fallen to decay.”[288]

-----

Footnote 287:

A comparison of this statement with Hesiod’s will show that Plato was

not much governed by the poet’s authority. Comp. Theog. v. 132-156;

336-350; 453-460. Plato probably took his notion, as Proclus suggests,

from the Orphic hymns.

Footnote 288:

On this speech we must refer the reader to Stallbaum’s long and

valuable notes.

-----

XVII.—Thus spoke the Creator; and again into the same bowl, in which

he had by mingling tempered the soul of the universe, he poured into

it likewise what was left of the former mixture, somewhat indeed after

the same manner, yet not equally pure as at first, but less so by two

or three degrees. And after having thus framed the universe, he

allotted to it souls equal in number to the stars, inserting each in

each; and then, as it were, placing them on a vehicle [whereon to

travel through the heavens,] he pointed out the nature of the

universe, and announced to them the laws of fate; showing them that

the first generation would be allotted in common to all, so that no

particular soul should have less than its due portion, and that after

they had been distributed through the several instruments of time

adapted to each,[289] there would then be produced that animal which

is of all the most suited for religious worship; and as human nature

was of two kinds, [male and female,] he showed them that the more

excellent was that which would afterwards be called _man_. As souls,

therefore, are from necessity engrafted in bodies that are constantly

gaining and losing their composing particles, he declared to them that

in the first place all persons must necessarily have one connate

[ξύμφυτον] sense produced by violent emotions,—secondly, love mingled

with pleasure and pain; and besides these, fear and anger, together

with all their consequences and natural opposites; and that such as

subdued these would live justly, those overcome by them unjustly. And

he declared also, that after living well for the time appointed to

him, each one should once more return to the habitation of his

associate star, and spend a blessed and suitable existence; but

failing in these points, he should be changed in his second generation

into the nature of a woman; and should he not cease from evil even

under these circumstances, whatever the shape his wickedness had

taken, so also the soul should be changed into the nature of some

brute corresponding thereto, and when changed never cease from labour,

until, following the revolution of sameness and difference peculiar to

itself, and having overcome by reason its turbulent and irrational

part, which is a mass, as it were, composed of fire, water, air, and

earth, it should at length return to the first and best disposition of

its nature.[290]

Having thus legislated for souls in all these particulars, in order that

he might be in no respect the cause of the future wickedness of each, he

planted some of them on the earth, others in the moon, and others in the

remaining different instruments of time; and after this planting, he

charged the junior gods with the duty of constructing mortal bodies, as

well as everything additional that was required for the human soul,

giving them dominion also over these and all things consequent thereon,

and bidding them rule over the mortal creature as nobly and honourably

as they could, that it might not become the cause of evil to itself.

-----

Footnote 289:

Gr. εἰς τὰ προσήκοντα ἑκάστοις ἕκαστα ὄργανα χρόνων.

Footnote 290:

This is a clear indication of the philosopher’s belief in the

transmigration of souls;—and the same notion is developed towards the

close of the dialogue. Some, however, suppose that they are the

opinions of Timæus, not Plato. How can we separate them?

-----

XVIII.—The Creator, after arranging all these particulars, then retired

to his accustomed repose; and while he thus abode, his children

forthwith obeyed their father’s order, and, taking the immortal

principle of a mortal animal, they, in imitation of their own creator,

borrowed[291] from the world portions of fire and earth, water and air,

as things which they should one day restore; and firmly united them

together, not with the same indissoluble bonds by which they themselves

were held together, but fixing them with thickly-set nails, invisible

through their smallness, constructing from these different elements each

particular body, and placing the revolutions of the immortal soul in a

body subject both to renewal and decay. These, however,—merged, as it

were, in a deep river,—had no power of governing themselves, but

violently hurried forward both themselves and others, so that the whole

animal was moved—confusedly however, just as chance carried it forward,

and without any reason, according to the whole six kinds of

motion—backwards and forwards, to the right and left, upwards and

downwards, and so on, according to the six differences of place. And

great as was the advancing and retiring wave which furnished nutrition,

yet it was still more agitated by the impulses which it received from

without, when the body came into collision with external and foreign

fire, or the solidity of earth, liquid waterfalls, or whirling blasts of

air; from all which the various movements fell through the body on to

the soul; which on this account were afterwards, and are still, called

perceptions [_i. e._ general sensations]. And these, moreover, instantly

giving rise to an exceedingly great and powerful motion, by moving with

that constantly flowing stream, and vehemently disturbing the

revolutions of the soul; wholly stopped the revolution according to

sameness by their contrary current, hindering it either from commencing

or continuing its course;[292]—and even the movement according to

difference they so far disturbed, as to turn from their circular orbits

and throw into all possible disorder the three intervals of double and

triple, together with the mean terms and conjoining links of the

sesquitertian, sesquialter, and sesquioctave ratios, which cannot be

dissolved by any one but the artificer by whom they were bound;[293]—and

thus, though scarcely connected with each other, they are borne along,

though quite in disorder,—at one time straight forwards, at another

obliquely, and then again upside down, just as if one were to fix his

head on the earth and raise his feet on high, in which case, both to the

inverted person and the spectators, the parts on the right would seem to

be on the left, and the left on the right. These circles likewise

greatly disturbed in these and similar ways, when they fall in

externally with either sameness or difference, and call objects either

same or different, contrary to truth, become false and unreasonable; nor

is there any revolution among them which has a controlling and directing

power;—and if, again, any of the external sensations are hurried forward

and join in doing violence to the soul’s whole receptacle, they then

seem to prevail, though in reality they are still in subjection.

And it is owing to all these affections, that even now as in the

beginning, the soul, when first united to a mortal body, is without

intelligence; but when the stream of growth and nutrition flows along

with diminished speed, the circles of the soul, restored to

tranquillity, proceed in their proper path, gaining steadiness as time

goes on, and then the orbits of the circles are regulated in their

course agreeably to those that travel according to nature; and they call

both same and different by their proper appellations, assigning wisdom

to the person by whom they are possessed. If any one, therefore,

receives both proper food and education, he must become perfectly sound

and healthy, escaping every important disease; whereas he who neglects

his soul will pass lamely through life’s existence, and again pass into

Hades aimless and unserviceable.[294] Of these matters, however, more

hereafter. It is our business at present to treat more accurately of

what we before proposed,—namely, the generation of body in connexion

with soul, and owing to what causes and divine foresight it has taken

place, resting for our proofs chiefly on the argument of analogy.

-----

Footnote 291:

Gr. δανειζόμενοι, &c., borrowing certain particles, which were to be

paid back as a debt at some future time, namely, at the dissolution of

the mortal body.

Footnote 292:

The general meaning of this rather involved sentence is,—that as well

by the natural bodily change as by the perceptions of the senses, a

disturbance is caused in the equable and constant agitation or

operation both of the intelligent and sensuous part of the soul.

Footnote 293:

This celebrated passage most plainly shows what Plato meant by the

harmonic and arithmetic ratios concerned in forming the universe,—viz.

that they indicated a certain harmony and equability of the

intellectual powers, clearly perceptible in their agitation and

movements, so long as the power of body and sense is not such as to

destroy and impair them:—but this of course must be the result of an

union of body and soul.

Footnote 294:

Gr. ἀτελὴς καὶ ἀνόνητος. Stephens proposed ἀνόητος on the authority of

some MSS.:—but no change is needed.

-----

XIX.—First, then, the gods, in imitation of the spherical shape of the

universe, bound the two divine circles of the soul in a spherical

body,—that, namely, which we now call the head, which is man’s most

divine member, and the ruler of our whole composition. And to this the

gods who framed it gave the whole body for its service, conceiving that

it would thus partake of every possible motion; and moreover, lest the

head, in rolling over the various elevations and depressions, should be

unable to overcome the heights, or get out of the cavities, the gods

gave it the body to be its locomotive vehicle. Hence the body was endued

with length, and furnished by Divine contrivance with four members,

naturally capable of extension and flexion, to enable it to seize

objects, to give it a stable support, and to allow it to pass from place

to place; and above this body was placed the head, the abode of our most

divine and sacred portion. This was why we were furnished with legs and

hands;—and as the gods considered that the fore parts are more

honourable and fitter to rule than those behind, they gave us a motion

chiefly progressive.[295] Beside this, it was requisite, that man’s

front should be distinct and dissimilarly formed from the other side;

and on this account they first placed about the vessel of the head a

face provided with organs to express all the energies of the soul, and

assigned to this anterior part the natural government of man. And of

these organs, the first that they constructed were the light-bearing

eyes, fixing them in from some such cause as the following: The body of

these eyes they formed to consist of fire, not enough indeed to burn,

but to give a gentle light suitable to each day; for the pure fire

contained within us and related to it, they caused to flow smoothly

through the eyes, and in dense quantities throughout, but condensing it

more especially in the middle of the eyes, so as to conceal all the

grosser part within, and allow the pure only to filter through. When,

therefore, the light of day surrounds the stream of vision, then, by the

mutual falling of similar bodies on each other, one well-adapted body is

constituted, according to the direction of the eyes, wherever the light

proceeding from within resists that which falls on it from without. But

the whole becoming similarly affected through similitude, when it either

touches anything else or is itself touched by another, then the motion

thus produced, diffusing itself through the whole body even as far as

the soul, causes that sensation which we denominate sight. But when this

kindred fire [within us] departs into night, the sight is cut off; for

in this case, by proceeding into a dissimilar nature, it becomes

estranged, and is extinguished: since it has no longer any relation to

the proximate surrounding air, which is naturally destitute of fire.

Hence it ceases from seeing, and besides this, becomes the introducer of

sleep; for the gods constructed the eyelids to be a preservative of the

sight, and thus by their compression restrain the power of its inward

fire, and besides that, scatter and smooth over its internal motions;

and when they are thus calmed, rest ensues; which rest, when profound,

produces a sleep attended with few dreams;—but on the other hand, if

certain unusually vehement motions remain, then, according to their

nature and the places in which they occur, they will engender

corresponding phantasms within, which will come to our recollection as

soon as we wake. With respect, also, to the formation of images on

mirrors, and all lucid, smooth surfaces, there is nothing in these

difficult of solution; for all such phenomena necessarily result from

the mutual affinity of the external and internal fire, and again from

one in particular that subsists about smooth bodies individually, and is

many times reflected, because the fire around the face gradually becomes

united on the smooth and shining surface with the fire coming from the

eyes. The parts on the right, too, appear to be on the left, because

there is a mutual contact of the contrary parts of the sight with the

contrary parts of the object, different from their accustomed mode of

approach. On the contrary, the parts on the right appear on the right,

and the left on the left, when there is a reflexion of the light

composed of the mingled fires, both exterior and interior; and secondly,

the smoothness of the mirrors, which are convex, reflect that which is

to the right on the left, and the left to the right. But if the mirror

be concave, it presents an image wholly inverted, by sending the lower

part of the image upwards, and again the upper part downwards.[296] All

these phenomena, therefore, are only some of the concurring causes[297]

which the divinity brings to his aid in rendering the idea of that which

is best as far as possible complete,—whereas the multitude are of

opinion that these are not the concurring but the real causes of all

things,—such, namely, as those producing cold and heat, freezing and

thawing, and such like, but which are wholly incapable of exercising

reason and intellect; for the soul may be said to be the only one of all

beings that can acquire intellect; and this is invisible, whereas fire

and water, air and earth, are all visible bodies. As for the lover of

intellect and science, however, he should explore the first causes of

intellectual nature, and consider, respecting second causes, how many

arise from the motion of other bodies, and yet necessarily give motion

again to others. This, then, is what we ought to do: we should speak

concerning both kinds of causes, but separately of such as engage the

intellect in forming things fair and good; and of such, also, as,

abandoning wisdom, produce the things they form just as it may chance,

and without any regard to order.

-----

Footnote 295:

ταύτῃ τὸ πολὺ τῆς πορείας ἡμῖν ἔδοσαν.

Footnote 296:

This is a very obscure passage, but much light has been thrown upon it

by Prof. T. H. Martin (_Études sur le Timée_, 2 vols. Paris, 1841),

who conceives that Plato is here referring to convex and concave

mirrors. Considerable light is thrown also on the meaning of the Greek

words by a passage in Euclid’s Optics, p. 393.

Footnote 297:

Gr. τῶν ξυναιτίων.

-----

XX.—Respecting the second causes of the eyes,[298] therefore, so far as

they possess the power which falls to their lot, let what has been

already said suffice; and we will next speak of their greatest and most

useful employment, for which, indeed, they were expressly bestowed on us

by the Deity. The sight, indeed, is in my opinion the cause of the

greatest benefit to man,—since even in our present discussion about the

universe, not one argument could ever have been adduced without

surveying the stars, the sun, and the heavens. Now, however, both day

and night, months and periods of years, have been seen and

arithmetically calculated; and they give us a conception of time, and

means of investigating the nature of the universe; from all which we

have gained that kind of learning termed philosophy, a better gift than

which never was nor ever will be conferred by the gods on our mortal

race. This, then, is what I call the greatest benefit of the eyes; and

as for the others that are of less consequence, why should I celebrate

them, to make those who are blind and unphilosophic mourn and regret

them in vain? This, however, we may assert, that God invented and

bestowed sight on us for this express purpose, that on surveying the

circles of intelligence in the heavens, we might properly employ those

of our own minds, which, though disturbed when compared with the others

that are uniform, are still allied to their circulations; and that

having thus learned and being naturally possessed of a correct reasoning

faculty, we might by imitating the uniform revolutions of divinity set

right our own silly wanderings and blunders.

As respects voice and hearing, we may say again, that they were bestowed

on us by the gods for the same objects and on the same account; for

speech was ordained for the very same purpose as the sight, which it

greatly aids in its office;—and it is with a view also to harmony that

the hearing has an aptitude for musical sounds. That harmony, moreover,

which consists in motions analogous to the revolutions of our soul, does

not seem advantageous to him who wisely devotes himself to the

Muses[299] on the mere ground of its being pleasurable without reason,

as it seems at present; but it was given us by the Muses to aid us in

reducing the disturbed circulation of our soul to mutual order and

accordance;—and again, they gave us rhythm for the same purpose, as the

means of reforming the irregular and ungracious habits that prevail in

the majority of our race.

-----

Footnote 298:

Gr. τὰ μὲν οὖν τῶν ὀμμάτων ξυμμεταίτια.

Footnote 299:

That is, philosophy, which likewise is signified by the term ἡ

μουσική.

-----

XXI.—Thus far, with only a few exceptions, our past remarks have had

reference to the creations of intellect; and we ought to speak likewise

of things that come of necessity; for the generation of this world

results wholly from the co-operation of intellect and necessity.

Intellect, indeed, ruling over necessity, persuaded it to bring to the

highest perfection the majority of created things; and in this way, by

the persuasive power of wisdom over necessity, this universe was first

created. Now, correctly to explain in what way it was created, we must

refer in our explanation to the form of a variable cause,[300] as the

nature of the case requires. Let us then recall our steps, and take up

the subject afresh, going back to first principles, as we did before.

Let us investigate then the nature and affections of fire and water, air

and earth, prior to the generation of the heavens; for up to the present

time no one has yet unfolded their generation:—and yet we speak of fire

and other things as principles and elements of the universe, just as if

the nature of each was known;—whereas at the same time any one with the

least intelligence must be aware that they cannot be compared even to

letters or parts of which syllables are formed. As respects ourselves,

this is what we propose:—we will not speak of the principle or

principles, or whatever other denomination they may receive, of all

things;—and this for no other reason than the difficulty of stating what

are my sentiments according to our present method of discussion.[301] Do

not expect me then to speak thus, for I cannot persuade myself that I

have the ability to undertake so difficult a subject. Keeping,

therefore, to the line of argument laid down at the beginning, on the

force of probability,[302] I will endeavour to make statements not less

probable than those of others, and beginning the subject once more from

its commencement[303] to discourse on the matter both in detail and as a

whole. First, then, invoking the divinity who has now from the first

been the guardian of our discourse, to defend us from an absurd and

unusual exposition and lead us to a doctrine founded on probability—let

us again begin to speak.

-----

Footnote 300:

Gr. τὸ τῆς πλανωμένης εἶδος αἰτίας.

-----

XXII.—This fresh commencement then, of our present discussion requires a

more ample division than the former. For then we distinguished only two

species; but we must now admit a third. In the former discussion two

were sufficient;—one set forth as a species of model, apprehensible by

the intellect, and always subsisting on the principle of sameness,—the

second an imitation of the model, generated and visible; and we did not

then distinguish a third, because we deemed these two sufficient. But

now the subject of discourse seems to compel me to introduce and explain

a new species which is both difficult and obscure.[304] Of what natural

power, then, are we to conceive it possessed? It is indeed in some sort

the special receptacle, and, as it were, the nurse of all generation.

Such indeed is the truth:—but we must speak more clearly concerning it.

And this will certainly be an arduous undertaking on many accounts, but

principally on account of the questions that must previously be settled

concerning fire and the rest of the elements,—why one should be called

water rather than fire, or air rather than earth, or why any one of them

should bear one name in particular rather than all the rest; thus

rendering it a difficult matter to use a language about it that is fixed

and stable. How then, and by what means, are we to arrive at a probable

conclusion in this dilemma?

In the first place, then, what we now denominate water, on becoming

condensed, seems to take the form of stones and earth,—and when melted

and dispersed, that of vapour and air;—air also, when burnt up, becomes

fire, while the latter again, on becoming condensed and extinct, resumes

the form of air; and again air, when collected and condensed, produces

mists and clouds, from which, when still more compressed, rain descends;

and from water again are formed earth and stones;—[the whole of them,]

as it seems, exchanging all round their mutual generation.[305]

-----

Footnote 301:

Gr. κατὰ τὸν παρόντα τρόπον τῆς διεξόδου. Stallbaum considers this

phrase as equivalent to κατὰ τὸ εἰκός. We have preferred giving a

literal interpretation of the words themselves.

Footnote 302:

Gr. τὸ δὲ κατ’ ἀρχὰς ῥηθὲν διαφυλάττων, τὴν τῶν εἰκότων λόγων δύναμιν,

&c. He is here alluding to what he had said in his introduction of the

subject, ch. ix.

Footnote 303:

Gr. μᾶλλον δὲ καὶ ἔμπροσθεν ἀπ’ ἀρχῆς. Stallbaum suggests as an

emendation, κατὰ τὰ ἔμπροσθεν, _according to the plan of our former

discussion_:—but this is scarcely needed.

Footnote 304:

On the nature of primitive matter and the distinction between matter

finite and matter infinite, see Stallbaum’s long and learned note _ad

locum_.

Footnote 305:

Gr. κύκλον τε οὕτω διαδιδόντα εἰς ἄλληλα, ὡς φαίνεται, τὴν γένεσιν.

-----

XXIII.—As these, then, never maintain any constancy of existence, who

will have the assurance to maintain that any one of them is _this_

rather than _that_? No one:—and it would be far the safest plan to speak

about them as follows:—When we see anything constantly passing from one

state of existence to another, as fire for instance, we should not say

that it is fire absolutely, but something fiery,—and again, that what we

call water is not absolutely so, but something watery; without assigning

to them any names that would give the idea of stability, as we think

people do, when they express it by _this_ and _that_ (τόδε καὶ

τοῦτο);—for not being of an abiding nature, it cannot endure to have

applied to it such terms as, _this thing_, _of this nature_, _belonging

to this_; and any such others as would show it to have a substantive

existence. Hence we should not give any one of them an individual name,

but call it something such-like, but ever fluctuating; and especially

with respect to fire, [we should assert] that it is wholly such-like,

and similarly likewise, everything endued with generation. [That

receptacle,] however, in which each of these appears successively to

grow up and decay, that alone is entitled to be termed _this_ and

_that_;—whereas anything of any kind soever, as hot, white, or their

contraries, and all therefrom proceeding, cannot be so denominated. But

let us again try more clearly to explain our meaning. If any one, in

modelling all kinds of figures out of gold, were unceasingly to

transform them one by one into all the others, and some one present were

to point to one of them and inquire what it was, it would be by far the

safest and most correct to say that is gold; but as for its being a

triangle, or any other figure that might be given to it, not to speak of

them as being so in reality, inasmuch as they are in process of change,

even while we make such assertion; but to be content if it may safely be

denominated such-like, [or of such a nature]. The same remark applies to

that which receives all bodies;—and we should ever call it by the same

name, as it never abandons its own proper power, but perpetually

receives all things, and never anywhere or in any way assumes any of

those shapes that enter into it,—being in fact a natural receptacle for

everything,[306] receiving both motion and form from what enters

therein; and this is why it exhibits a different aspect at different

times. But as for the representations of the objects that enter and

depart hence, they are modelled after them in a manner wonderful and

difficult to describe, as we shall hereafter relate.

-----

Footnote 306:

Gr. ἐκμαγεῖον γὰρ φύσει παντὶ κεῖται. This unusual meaning of

ἐκμαγεῖον is well explained by a passage in the opening of the Timæus

Locrus, p. 94, a.—τὰν δ’ ὕλαν ἐκμαγεῖον καὶ ματέρα τιθάναν τε καὶ

γεννατικὰν εἶμεν τὰς τρίτας οὐσίας. The words χώρα and ἕδρα are

sometimes used in this dialogue to express a similar notion; viz. the

primitive matter of things created, infinite in extent but capable of

receiving shapes.

-----

XXIV.—For the present, then, we must consider three things:—first, that

which is produced,—the second, that in which it is produced,—and the

third, that of which the thing produced is the natural resemblance. And

especially is it proper to compare that which receives to the mother

(_i. e._ which supplies the model), that from which it receives to the

father, and the nature intermediate between these to the child;[307] and

to consider, also, that as the image should present every possible

variety of forms, that in which the model is formed cannot well be

prepared for the purpose, unless those forms have been erased from it

which it used to receive from other quarters. Indeed, if it were like

any of the objects that enter into it, if aught were to present itself

of a nature contrary and wholly different, it would produce a bad

likeness thereof. And hence from presenting at the same time its own

image, that which is destined to receive within itself all the different

species possible, should itself be destitute of all form whatever;—just

as those preparing sweet-smelling unguents take all pains to render

wholly inodorous the liquids that are to receive the perfume,—and as

those also who wish to impress figures on a soft substance carefully

remove from it any previous impression, and make it, as far as they can,

exquisitely smooth and well-polished. In the same way, then, that which

is intended properly to receive through its entire extent the

resemblances of eternal beings, should be naturally without any form

whatever of its own. Hence, as to this mother and receptacle of things

created, which is visible and every way perceptible, we cannot term it

either earth, air, fire, or water,—nor again, any one of their

compounds, or any of the elements from which they were produced; but we

should not be at all wrong in calling it a certain invisible and

shapeless essence, which receives all things and has a certain share of

intelligence,—though how it has it, is a matter very obscure and

difficult of apprehension. So far, however, as it is possible to arrive

at its nature from what has been previously said, we may very correctly

say that fire appears to be something inflamed,[308] water something

moist,—and so in like manner, earth and air, so far as it receives the

images of these bodies.

-----

Footnote 307:

This passage is alluded to by Aristotle, Metaph. I. ch. 6.

Footnote 308:

Gr. πῦρ μὲν ἑκάστοτε αὐτοῦ τὸ πεπυρωμἐνον μέρος φαίνεσθαι.

-----

XXV.—Let us, then, be somewhat more minute in resolving the following

question,[309]—whether there is a certain fire subsisting in itself,—and

so also, as respects other things which we always say have a separate

existence in themselves, whether the objects alone that we see, and

which are perceived through the bodily organs, possess reality of being,

and nothing besides these has any existence at all,—or whether we are

wrong in asserting that each of them has its corresponding idea, when

after all it is nothing but idle talk. The present question, therefore,

we must not decide without much judicious examination; neither should we

add to our present discourse any great length of matter not strictly

belonging to the subject:—but if there should appear to be any limit, by

which it can be contained within a small compass, that would of all

things be the most opportune to our present design.

Thus, then, will I state my opinion. If intellect and true opinion are

two separate kinds of things, there must necessarily be self-existing

ideas not perceptible by the senses, and to be apprehended only by the

intellect; but if, as appears to some, true opinion differs in no

respect from intellect, everything perceived through the body should be

considered perfectly real. We must consider them, then, as two distinct

things, because they both have a separate origin and character, one of

them produced in us by learning, the other through persuasion,—one

always based on true reason, the other irrational,—the one not to be

moved by persuasion, the other subject to such mutation:—and lastly, of

true opinion every man has a share; but of intellect only the gods, and

some small portion of mankind.

-----

Footnote 309:

The question now proposed is, whether the elementary bodies have a

separate existence and eternal ideas, or whether those only are

certain that are cognizable by the senses. On this point he says, that

just as _science_ and _opinion_ widely differ, so also do the _ideas_

of things and the _things_ submitted to the senses. Different,

however, from both these is the χώρα or receptacle of that infinite

matter, which can only be conceived by a bastard sort of reason;

because the infinite is not the subject of mental intelligence, but

is, as it were hypothetically, considered by an inferior reasoning

faculty.

-----

XXVI.—Such being the case, we must acknowledge that there is an idea

which subsists according to sameness, unproduced and not subject to

decay; receiving nothing into itself from elsewhere, and itself never

entering into any other nature, but invisible and imperceptible by

senses, and to be apprehended only by pure intellect; while the second,

on the other hand, which is like it, and bears the same name, is

perceptible by the senses, the effect of production, ever in motion,

coming into being in a certain spot, and then again hastening to decay,

being apprehended by opinion united with perception. Again, there is a

third class of being,—that of eternal place; which is never destroyed,

but becomes a seat (or receptacle) for everything created, being

perceptible of itself without the interference of the senses, by a sort

of bastard reason, though scarcely to be relied on; and hence seeing it,

as in a dream, we assert that every being must necessarily be somewhere,

and in a certain place, and that nothing can exist which is neither on

earth or in the heavens. With regard to all these, and such like

opinions and the ideas which are entertained in a waking state and have

a positive existence, we cannot, owing to this dreaminess, clearly

distinguish the one from the other, and state what is the fact,—that the

image, which cannot claim as its own that even for which it is formed,

but is ever borne along as the spectre of something else, must

consequently be formed in something else, and somehow vindicate to

itself a separate essence, if it has any existence at all;—whereas, with

regard to real being, true and accurate reason aids it by affirming,

that as long as two things differ from each other, they cannot so exist

one in another, as to be at the same time two things and one only.[310]

-----

Footnote 310:

This passage is somewhat difficult and involved; but Plato’s meaning

seems to be, that the things falling under the senses are conformed

according to the example of the ideas, and are, as it were,

representations thereof, though different from the ideas

themselves:—and hence there must necessarily be some matter in which

they have been moulded, or else they can have no permanent existence;

though nevertheless sound reason shows us that there is a wide

difference between them and the ideas properly so called.

-----

XXVII.—This, then, is a summary of my opinion,—that there are three

distinct things which existed before the formation of the universe,

_being_, _place_, and _generation_;—that the nurse of generation,

moistened and inflamed, receiving the forms of earth and air, and

experiencing all the other accidents thereon consequent, appeared under

many various aspects; but as it was contained by powers neither similar

nor equally balanced, it could not possibly be balanced itself, and

through the want of such balance, became itself impelled by these

forces, to which it again in turn gave impulse;[311] while the parts in

motion were separately hurried along in different directions, like

things shaken and winnowed by sieves (πλοκάνων) and machines used for

the cleansing of corn, the dense and heavy particles in one direction,

those that are light settling in another quite different. Thus when

these four classes were agitated by their receptacle, which was itself

moved as by the shaking of the [above-mentioned] instrument, there was a

separation of the dissimilar parts, and a crowding together of those

most alike; in consequence of which these other things also occupied a

different position, before the universe was created and from such

materials reduced to order. Before this, indeed, they all subsisted

irrationally, and without measure;—but when the Creator undertook to

arrange the universe, he first gave shapes with forms and numbers to

fire and earth, water and air, which possessed indeed certain traces of

their true essence, though, nevertheless, wholly so situated, as

everything would probably be, in the absence of its god.[312] And let us

above all things hold, and ever hold, that the Deity made them as far as

possible the most beautiful and the best, when before they were in a

totally different condition. Now, then, I will try to show you the

distribution and generation of these things individually by a somewhat

unusual mode of proof; but yet, as you have trodden the paths of

mathematical learning, through which we must necessarily make our

demonstration, you will not fail to follow me.

-----

Footnote 311:

On the full meaning of this passage, see Stallbaum’s long note _ad

locum_.

Footnote 312:

What Plato here means is, that the elements before the creation,

although infinite, shapeless, and soulless, contained within them

certain traces of their true essence, and were afterwards made finite

and of fixed shape by being clothed, as it were, with forms and

numbers.

-----

XXVIII.—First, then, that fire and earth, water and air, are bodies, is

evident surely to every one. But every species of body possesses

solidity; and every solid must necessarily be contained by planes.

Again, a base formed of a perfectly plane surface is composed from

triangles.[313] But all triangles are originally of two kinds, each of

them having one angle a right angle, and the two others acute:—and one

of these has an equal part of a right angle divided by the equal sides;

while in the other, two unequal parts of a right angle are divided by

the unequal sides. This, then, we lay down, according both to

probability and necessity, as the origin and principle of fire and all

other bodies;—but as for the heavenly principles thereof, these indeed

are known only to the Deity, and to those among men who enjoy God’s

favour.

We must relate, then, of what kind those four most beautiful bodies were

that thus came into being, and which, however unlike each other, may yet

be produced from each other by dissolution. By accomplishing this,

indeed, we shall ascertain the truth about the generation of earth and

fire, as well those elements (_i. e._ water and air) which in their just

proportion hold an intermediate position; for then we shall allow no one

to assert that there are visible bodies more beautiful than these, each

of which belongs to a separate class. It must be our endeavour,

therefore, to unite together these four kinds of bodies so excellent in

beauty, and so prove to you that we have sufficiently apprehended their

nature. Of the two triangles, indeed, the isosceles has but one form,

while the oblong or scalene admits of infinite variety. We must select,

therefore, the most beautiful among the infinites, if we would begin and

proceed in due order:—still if any one can prove that he has found any

form yet better and more suitable for the composition of these bodies,

he shall be treated not as an enemy but a friend, and his opinion shall

prevail. As for us, however, we fix on one only as the most beautiful of

all the many triangles, passing over all the rest;—that out of which is

formed a third, the equilateral triangle.[314] To explain the reason of

this would indeed require a somewhat lengthened proof:—nevertheless we

propose a handsome reward for him who by a diligent investigation finds

this not to be the case. We select, therefore, two triangles out of

many, from which the bodies of fire and the other elements have been

constructed,—one being an isosceles, the other one always having the

square of its longer side the triple of that of the shorter.

But what we formerly asserted rather obscurely, we must

now more accurately define. For all the four kinds [of elements] seemed

to be mutually generated among each other from not being correctly

represented; for there are generated from the triangles which we have

just chosen, four kinds [of solid figures]—three of them, indeed, from

one having unequal sides, and the fourth alone constructed from the

isosceles triangle.[315] All of them, therefore, cannot, by dissolution

into each other, produce from many small things a few that are

large,—this being effected only by three of them; for all things

whatever naturally arise from one only, and when the greater parts are

dissolved, many small parts will be formed out of them, receiving

figures suitable to each; and again, when the numerous small parts are

dispersed into triangles, a single number is formed, and the entire bulk

constitutes one separate body of large size.[316] Thus much then may

suffice concerning their mutual generation.

-----

Footnote 313:

Gr. ἡ δὲ ὀρθὴ τῆς ἐπιπέδου βάσεως ἐκ τριγώνων ξυνέστηκε. These notions

about triangles were decidedly Pythagorean, as we are informed by

Proclus in Euclid, II. 46. οἱ δὲ Πυθαγόρειοι τὸ μὲν τρίγωνον ἁπλῶς

ἀρχὴν γεννήσεως εἶναί φασιν καὶ τῆς τῶν γεννητῶν εἰδοποιΐας, &c. See

also Martin’s note, 67, _Études sur le Timée_, ii. p. 236-8. Plato,

however, could have been no mean geometrician himself, having studied

under Theodorus.

Footnote 314:

ἐξ οὗ τὸ ἰσόπλευρον τρίγωνον ἐκ τρίτου συνέστηκε. The sense of the

whole passage is explained geometrically in Stallbaum’s note. We here

give only what seems the correct rendering of the Greek.

Footnote 315:

Namely, the _tetrahedron_ or pyramid, _octahedron_, and _icosahedron_,

which are generated from six equal-sided triangles, and fourthly, the

_cube_, generated from an equilateral triangle. See Stallbaum, _ad

locum_.

Footnote 316:

Gr. γενόμενος εἷς ἀριθμὸς ἑνὸς ὄγκου μέγα ἀποτελέσειεν ἂν ἄλλο εἶδος

ἕν, lit. _one number being formed will complete one separate and large

kind of single mass_.

-----

XXIX.—We must speak next in order concerning the quality of each class

individually, and show from what composition of numbers each was formed.

The first, then, indeed, is that composed from the smallest triangles,

its element being that which has its subtending side twice the length of

the shorter. Now, two of these triangles being mutually brought together

to form a diagonal diameter, and this being thrice repeated, so that the

diagonals and shorter sides shall meet in the same point, as in a

centre, the result will be one equilateral triangle composed of six

triangles. But four equilateral triangles form by the union of three

plane angles one solid angle, the size of which exceeds that of the most

obtuse plane angle; and thus by forming a figure that comprises four of

these angles, we constitute that first species of solid, [the

tetrahedron,] which divides into equal and similar parts the entire

sphere in which it is inscribed. The second species of solid, [the

octahedron,] is formed from the same triangles, which unite to form

eight equilateral triangles, and form one solid angle from four plane

angles, six solid angles being requisite to constitute this second class

of solids. The third, [the icosahedron,] is formed from the union of one

hundred and twenty elements, so united as to form twelve solid angles,

each formed by five plane equilateral triangles, and it has for its

bases (or faces) twenty equilateral triangles. These are the only solids

that can be formed from this element, [viz. the scalene triangle]. It

was the isosceles triangle, however, that produced the fourth elementary

figure,—four of them being so united with their right angles at the

centre, as to form one equilateral four-sided plane; and six of these

again united forming eight solid angles, each of which is formed by the

combination of three plane right angles;—the figure of the body thus

composed being cubical, having six plane quadrangular equilateral bases.

There was yet a certain fifth combination, [the regular dodecahedron;]

and this the Deity employed in tracing the plan of the universe.[317]

XXX.—Should any one then, after careful consideration of all these

points, be at a loss to determine whether the number of worlds is

infinite or finite,[318] let him consider that to admit an infinite

number thereof, would be the notion only of one who is ignorant of all

that he should best know. Still it may with much propriety be questioned

whether there is in reality only one world, or whether there are five.

According to our opinion, indeed, which is founded on probable

reasoning, there is but one world; though others perhaps, regarding the

question in another point of view, may be of a different opinion. Let us

now leave alone further speculations of this kind, and returning to the

elementary forms that have now been created in our discussion, let us

assign them respectively to fire, earth, water, and air. To earth,

indeed, let us assign a cubical form; for of all the four kinds earth is

the most immoveable, and is of all bodies the most easy to model,—such

being necessarily the case with that which has the most secure bases.

Among the triangles, then, that we originally mentioned, that which has

equal sides possesses firmer bases than one having unequal sides; and of

the two equilateral plane figures thus formed, the square has

necessarily a firmer base than the triangle, whether considered with

reference to its parts or the whole. On this account, in assigning this

figure to the earth, we still preserve probability;—and we shall do this

also by assigning to water that figure which is the least moveable of

the whole, to fire that which is most so, and to air that which is

intermediate between the two,—assigning also the smallest body to fire,

the greatest to water, and to air one of a size intermediate between

fire and water;—and again, the most subtile body to fire, the next in

this respect to air, and the third to water. Among all these then, that

body which possesses the fewest bases must necessarily be the most

easily moveable, as well as most penetrating, and in every way most

acute, being also exceedingly light, from being composed of the smallest

possible number of elements:—and so also the second has these properties

in a secondary degree, and the third in the third degree. Let it be

agreed then, that, according both to strict and probable reasoning, the

solid form of the pyramid is the element and germ of fire; that the

second form described is air; and the third water. All these elements

then, we must conceive to be so minutely small, that the individual

parts of each kind may from their smallness escape notice, and yet when

many of them are collected together, they become from their bulk the

objects of our perception.[319] Moreover, as respects their relative

proportions, numbers, motions, and other properties, the Deity, so far

as the nature of necessity has willingly and obediently given way, has

firmly established and united them together in just proportion.[320]

-----

Footnote 317:

On these geometric forms or elementary particles, we must refer the

reader to Martin’s _Études sur le Timée_, notes 66-69, ii. pp.

234-250, where the whole subject is exceedingly well explained and

illustrated.

Footnote 318:

It was the opinion of Democritus that the worlds are infinite; and the

same notion was afterwards entertained by Epicurus. Comp. Diog. Laert.

ix. sect. 44, and Cic. Acad. Q. iv. 17.

Footnote 319:

Gr. ξυνασθροισθέντων δὲ πολλῶν τοὺς ὄγκους αὐτῶν ὁρᾶσθαι.

Footnote 320:

Gr. ταύτῃ πάντῃ δι’ ἀκριβείας ἀποτελεσθεισῶν ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ ξυνηρμόσθαι

ταῦτα ἀνὰ λόγον. Here is an awkward anacoluthon from the introduction

of the passive perfect ξυνηρμόσθαι, for which Stephens suggested, as

an emendation, ξυναρμόσασθαι.

-----

XXXI.—From all then that we have before said about the nature of these

bodies, the following account seems to be the most probable:—Earth, when

it meets with fire, and is dissolved by its subtility, is borne along

hither and thither in a dissolved state either in the fire itself, or in

the air, or in the water,—till its parts, meeting together, and again

mutually harmonizing, once more become earth; for they can never take

any other form. But water, when divided by fire or air, may, by the

re-composition of its parts, become either one body of fire, or two

bodies of air;—and as for the air, when it is decomposed, one only of

its particles will produce two of fire. And again, likewise, when fire

receives into itself either air or water or earth, though in small

quantities relatively to the mass which contains it, if it be dragged

along by the movements of these bodies and overcome in spite of all

resistance, and at last be decomposed and broken in pieces, these two

bodies of fire will coalesce into one of air; and if again the air is

overcome and separated into parts, then from two wholes and a half there

will be formed one whole body of water. Again, let us consider this

matter as follows:—When any one of the other forms is enclosed by fire,

and is cut by the acuteness of its angles and sides, it escapes further

division by passing into the nature of fire:—for among bodies that are

uniform and similar to each other, no one by itself can cause any change

in one of the same class, or experience any itself, with respect to that

which it resembles; whereas, when one class of bodies is contained

within another, and the weak one contends with the stronger, it will not

fail to be destroyed. And again, when the smaller, being comprehended in

the greater, and the few by the many, are broken in pieces and

extinguished, if they be disposed to adopt the form of the prevailing

nature, they cease to be extinguished; and air becomes generated from

fire,—water from air:—but if they attack and fall into contention with

any of the rest that they may meet, the agitated parts continue to be

dissolved, till being every way repulsed and dissolved, they fly to

their kindred nature; or else, being overcome, and joined into one out

of many similar to the prevailing power, they abide there in familiar

union. And especially, as the result of these affections, all things

whatever are mutually changing their positions;—for the numerous

individuals of each class are distinguished according to their

respective places through the motion of their receptacle, while those

that are mutually dissimilar, but yet resemble others, are hurried on by

the concussion [of other bodies] to the place occupied by the bodies

they resemble. All unmixed and primary bodies then are generated from

such causes as these:—but that other classes of bodies are naturally

inherent in these forms, is owing to the composition of each rudimental

part (στοιχεῖον); which not only at first produces one triangle,

possessed of a certain magnitude, but others also, both greater and

smaller, equal in number to the various classes existing in the forms

themselves;—and hence, these being mingled with themselves and each

other, are infinite in their variety,—-a fact which every one should

consider, who means to argue with probability respecting the nature of

things.

XXXII.—Concerning motion, then, and position, unless a person can

clearly understand in what manner and in conjunction with what these two

take place, he will meet with many hindrances in the subsequent part of

this discourse. This matter indeed we have already partly discussed; but

besides this, we must still inquire whether it be true, that motion

never willingly resides in smoothness, inasmuch as it is difficult, or

rather impossible, to conceive the existence of anything moving without

a mover, or of a mover without something in motion;—motion being

impossible while these are away, and it being equally impossible that

these should be equable and smooth. Thus, then, we must assign a state

of rest to smoothness, and motion to that which is unequal and rough;

inequality indeed being the cause again of a rough uneven nature. Now,

as regards the generation of inequality, that we have already discussed;

but how the several bodies, when divided according to their classes, do

not cease from their mutual courses and motions, this we did not

explain:—and so we will once more make it the subject of inquiry. The

revolution of the universe, since it comprehends the various classes of

things, and is of circular shape and naturally desirous of uniting with

itself, compresses all things together, and suffers no place to remain

void. On this account is it, that fire most of all penetrates through

everything, and air, in the next degree, being second to the former in

subtility and tenuity;—and the rest in the same way [according to their

degree:]—for such as are composed of very large parts have a very large

vacuity in their composition,—those, on the contrary, that are very

small, a very small vacuity. The union, then, resulting from compression

drives together the small parts into the intervals of the larger; and

thus, the small parts being placed side by side with the large, the

smaller dividing the greater, while the latter compress the smaller,

they are all borne upwards and downwards to the places respectively

suitable to each;—for each, on changing its magnitude, changes its

position likewise: and so, from these causes the production of diversity

is constantly maintained, giving that perpetual motion to these bodies,

which both now subsists and ever will continue.

XXXIII.—In the next place, we must understand that there are many kinds

of fire;—as for instance, flame,—that which emanates from flame,[321]

which without burning furnishes light to the eyes,—and that which abides

in ignited bodies, even after the flame has been extinguished. In like

manner, with respect to air, one kind is of the greatest purity, that

denominated _æther_,—a second most turbulent, cloudy, and dark; and

besides these, there are other nameless kinds formed by the inequality

of the triangles. As respects water, again, it admits of a twofold

division, one kind being liquid, the other fusible. The liquid kind,

therefore, being composed of very small and unequal parts of water,

becomes moveable, both of itself and by other bodies, through the

inequality of its composition and peculiar shape of its figure; whereas

the fusible kind, which is composed of large and smooth parts, is more

stable than the former, as well as heavier and more compact, owing to

its smoothness;[322]—and when fire enters into and dissolves its

substance, it becomes more moveable, from losing its uniformity; and

when it is thus rendered easily moveable, and is repelled by the

surrounding air, and extended on the earth, it is said to be

_liquefied_, by way of expressing the division of its masses, and is

said to _flow_ also, in order to show its extension over the earth:—and

these two words express both the changes which it undergoes. Again, when

fire escapes from this body, it does not retire into a vacuum, but the

surrounding air repelled [by the fire] drives the easily-moveable mass

of moisture into the place before occupied by the fire, with which at

the same time it becomes mingled;—but when the mass by close compression

once more becomes equable and smooth, it then resumes its smoothness and

consistency, because fire, the artificer of inequality, has taken its

departure;—and this departure of fire we denominate _cooling_, while the

union that takes place without the presence of fire is termed a

_condensation_ [or hardening]. But among all those which we term fusible

fluids, there is one that becomes most dense, though formed from the

most subtile and equable parts, and is of an uniform character, and

partaking of a lustrous yellow colour:—it is that most highly prized

possession,—gold, which is produced by filtration through a rock. And a

node (ὄζος) of gold, rendered by its density very hard and turned black,

is called _adamant_. But that which consists of parts greatly resembling

gold, and has more than one species, which surpasses gold in density,

and that it may become the harder, contains but a small and

insignificant portion of earth, though at the same time it is lighter,

owing to the great intervals between its internal atoms;—this is a

separate kind of lustrous and dense fluids, termed _brass_. But an

earthy nature is therewith mingled, which, when through age the two

parts become separated soon becomes visible of itself, and is

denominated _rust_. All other such matters also, it would be no hard

task further to discuss by pursuing the plan of probable arguments;—and

any one, who by way of recreation interrupts for a while his reasonings

on eternal being, and enters into probable speculations about the

generation of material things, will by these means acquire a pleasure of

which he need not repent, and establish for himself a moderate and wise

recreation during life.

-----

Footnote 321:

Gr. τό τε ἀπὸ τῆς φλογὸς ἀπιόν. The old editions read ἁπτόν.

Footnote 322:

The distinction between τὸ ὑγρόν and τὸ χυτόν is not easily conveyed

in translation. The former means an elastic fluid like water,—the

latter, a mass of greater density and less elasticity, such as jelly,

syrup, or oil. We have rendered it _fused_, because in the next page

the term is used respecting metals.

-----

XXXIV.—Thus indulging ourselves, let us next recount certain probable

reasons concerning what next follows of the same subject. Water that is

mingled with fire, which being very thin and moist, takes its name[323]

(ὑγρὸν) from its motion and the manner in which it rolls on the earth,

and which is also called soft and yielding, because its bases are less

stable than those of earth,—this, when separated from fire and bereft of

air, acquires more uniformity, and through their departure (_i. e._ of

air and fire) is compressed into itself;—and when it is thus condensed

above the earth, it becomes hail, if on the earth, ice; but when there

is less of it and only half the amount of freezing, [the water so

condensed] above the earth becomes snow, and that on the earth, which is

formed from dew, is called hoar-frost. When again the numerous kinds of

water are mingled together, the entire liquid thus formed, which is

filtered from the earth through plants, takes the name of juices or

saps. Owing, however, to their mode of admixture, these individual

fluids present through their dissimilarity many different undescribed

varieties, although four of them, which are of a fiery character, and

particularly transparent, have obtained appropriate appellations;—that

which heats the soul as well as the body being called _wine_,—secondly,

that which is smooth, and dazzling to the sight,[324] and hence bright,

glittering, and apparently of an oily nature, such as pitch, the gum of

the kiki-plant,[325] oil, and other things having similar

properties;—again, that which possesses a power, as far as nature

permits, of diffusing the substances of nutrition over the palate, and

by this property presents the idea of sweetness, has obtained the

general name of _honey_;—and lastly, that frothy fluid, which dissolves

the flesh by burning, has been distinguished from all the other juices

by the name of _opium_ (ὀπός).

-----

Footnote 323:

The Greek text is evidently corrupt. It stands as follows:—τὸ——ὕδωρ,

ὅσον λεπτὸν ὑγρόν τε διὰ τὴν κίνησιν καὶ τὴν ὁδὸν ἣν κυλινδούμενον ἐπὶ

γῆς ὑγρὸν λέγεται, &c. Stallbaum suggests the removal of the last

ὑγρόν, and the insertion of ἐστί after κυλινδούμενον. This suggestion

has been followed in our translation.

Footnote 324:

Gr. διακριτικὸν ὄψεως, lit. _having the power of separating sight_.

Footnote 325:

This is the same as the σιλλικύπριον or _Palma Christi_. Comp. Herod.

ii. 94, and D. Turner’s note thereon.

-----

XXXV.—As respects the different kinds of earth, one of them, stone, is

produced by the filtration of water in the manner following. The

commingled water, when it loses its coherence, passes into the form of

air, but, on becoming air, rises to its appropriate place. As, however,

there is no vacuum, it presses on the surrounding air; and this, being

weighty, and impelled against the mass of earth that it surrounds,

violently compresses it, driving it into the vacant spaces whence the

new air had before ascended. The earth, also, by the compression of the

air into indissoluble union with water, is formed into stones; the more

beautiful sorts of which acquire a lustre from the equality and

smoothness of their parts, the opposite being the case with those that

are ugly and valueless. But when all the moisture is thrown off by the

violence of fire, and the body is thus unusually dried up, then is

formed the kind of earth that we call clay. Sometimes also, even without

losing its moisture, the earth is fused by the fire, and on cooling

becomes a stone of a black colour.[326] In the same manner, when this

earth is deprived of the water it holds in mixture, but yet has small

particles and is of a saline nature, it forms a half-solid body, still

capable of solution in water,—either nitre, which purifies both oil and

earth, or else salt, a substance so well adapted to give flavours

pleasing to the palate, and deemed by the law as agreeable to the gods.

The compounds of these two substances are not soluble by water, but yet

can be melted by fire, for the following reasons. Neither fire nor air

liquefies masses of earth; because, being naturally composed of elements

smaller than the interstices (or pores) of earth, they easily penetrate

through these capacious pores without subjecting it either to

dissolution or liquefaction. The parts of water, on the other hand, as

they are larger, strive to force a passage, and so dissolve and liquefy

the earthy mass:—and hence, when the earth has no strong consistency,

water alone will dissolve it, whereas if in a compact state, nothing

will affect it but fire, which is the only body that can find an

entrance. As for water, again, its strong cohesiveness of parts, [when

frozen], can be overcome only by fire, whereas, when the cohesion is

less strong, it can be equally decomposed by fire and air, the latter

entering its interstices and the former separating even its constituent

triangles. Nothing, however, can dissolve air strongly condensed,

without attacking its composing elements; though when it coheres less

strongly, it may be dissolved, though only by fire. Again, in bodies

composed of water and earth, while the water occupies all the

interstices in its state of compression, the particles of water from

without, not finding egress, flow round the entire mass without

suffering decomposition; whereas the particles of fire that enter into

the interstices of water, as water into those of earth, and have the

same effect on water that fire has on air, alone possess the power of

dissolving and liquefying the compound body. And among these, some

contain less water than earth; such as all kinds of glass, and such

stones as are termed fusible; while others, on the contrary, contain

more water, such as wax and aromatic substances.

-----

Footnote 326:

Lindau conjectures this to be _basalt_. It is probably lava, or some

similar volcanic product. The same commentator conceives the λίτρον

mentioned in the succeeding sentence to be _potash_ or some alkali

suitable for mingling with oil to form soap.

-----

XXXVI.—Having thus then enumerated the several figures and classes of

bodies variously formed by admixtures and mutual changes, we must now

try to explain the causes of the feelings with which they impress us.

First, then, the bodies here spoken of must be always perceptible. As

yet, however, we have not discoursed on the generation of flesh, and

what belongs to flesh, nor on that part of the soul which is mortal.

This nevertheless cannot be suitably explained without at the same time

explaining the sensations and impressions produced by external objects;

and although one subject cannot be unfolded without a knowledge of the

other, yet the two cannot be explained together. We must settle one

first, and then proceed to the other. In order, then, in speaking of

impressions, to observe the same order as in speaking of the bodies

producing them, let our first inquiry be into those that concern the

body and soul.

First, then, let us inquire why fire is called _hot_, the reason of

which we shall perceive by considering its penetrating and cutting power

about our bodies. Now, that this affection is a certain sharpness[327]

is nearly evident to all; and as regards the tenuity of its sides, the

sharpness of its angles, the smallness of its particles, and the

velocity of its motion, through all which it becomes violent,

penetrating and capable of instantly dividing whatever it meets; this we

should carefully consider, recalling to mind the generation of its

figure;—inasmuch as it is this, and no other nature, which separates and

parcels out our bodies into small portions, and produces in us that

affection which is very properly denominated _heat_. Now the contrary to

this is sufficiently manifest; but still we must not pass it without

explanation:—for in truth, among the humid particles surrounding the

body, those that have the largest elementary parts enter and drive out

the smaller; but being unable to occupy their places, they compress our

bodily humours, and from being uneven and in a state of agitation, fix

them and render them motionless through their evenness and

density;—whereas things brought into contact against nature are

naturally opposed and mutually repel each other. From this contest and

agitation then there resulted a certain trembling and numbness; and the

whole of this affection, as well as the cause that produces it, has the

name of cold. Again we call those bodies _hard_ to which our flesh

yields; and those _soft_, which yield to the pressure of our flesh;—thus

using the terms comparatively, with reference to each other. Bodies also

yield to pressure when placed on a small base, while those resting on

quadrangular bases are the least impressible, owing to their very firm

position, and because from their own extreme density they strongly

resist all opposing pressure.

-----

Footnote 327:

Gr. ὀξύ τι τὸ πάθος,—meaning, that the affection resembles the

impression formed by an acute angular body.

-----

XXXVII.—Again, the nature of heavy and light will become most evident,

if investigated with that of _up_ and _down_;—for it is by no means

right to assert that there are naturally two distinct places opposite

one to the other;—one termed _down_, to which all bodies tend that are

endued with bulk, but the other _up_, to which bodies ascend contrary to

their inclination. The whole universe, indeed, being spherical, all such

things as are at the extremities (or circumference) and equally distant

from the centre must all in like manner naturally belong to the

extremities, while the centre, being in the same proportion distant from

all these extremities, must be said to occupy quite an opposite

position. Such then being the nature of the world, would not any one who

reversed the position of the above-mentioned objects be fairly thought

to apply names to them that are quite unsuitable? For the middle place

in it cannot be fairly said to be either naturally down or up, but only

the centre itself; and the circumference is neither the middle, nor does

it contain within it any parts more distant than the rest either from

the centre, or any of the opposite extremities. But when all the parts

are naturally so similar, how can any one with propriety assign to them

contrary names?—For supposing there were any regular solid body in the

centre of the universe, it would never be carried to any of the

extremities, owing to their entire uniformity;—but on the other hand, if

any one were to move in a circle round this solid, he would often stand

with his feet opposite to where they before were, and so call the same

part of himself both the upside and down. Since the universe, therefore,

as we have just observed, is of a spherical figure, no prudent man

should assert that it has any part which is [absolutely] either up or

down;—yet, as regards the origin and usual application of these terms

which we thus transfer to the universe, this we agree to be a proper

subject of investigation. If, in that spot of the universe which

specially belongs to fire, and where the principal mass is collected

with which it has a tendency to unite, any one were to ascend thither

and being possessed of the requisite power, were to take up the

particles, place them in a balance, and raising the scale, were forcibly

to draw the fire towards the air, with which it has no affinity, it is

clear that in this case the smaller mass would be more easily impelled

than the larger. Indeed, when two things are simultaneously raised by

one and the same power, the smaller quantity must of course yield more

readily than the greater to the impulsive force by which they are

constrained; and hence, the one is called _heavy_ and gravitating

downwards, the other _light_ and tending upwards. The same thing also is

observable in what we ourselves do, who inhabit this place [the earth].

For when, in walking on the earth, we separate particles of an earthy

nature, and sometimes even portions of the earth itself, forcibly and

unnaturally drawing them towards the air which is dissimilar,—then that

which is smaller yielding more readily to our impulse is sooner

attracted towards the foreign element:—this then we call _light_ and the

place towards which it is drawn, _up_ (or _above_), giving to their

contraries the terms _heavy_ and _down_ (or _below_) respectively. Hence

these must mutually differ from each other, owing to the contrary

positions that the several elements occupy:—for that which is light in

one place is contrary to one corresponding with it in an opposite

position, and so also to a heavy body another that is heavy, and to

bodies placed above or below others, opposed to them in their respective

positions;—and they will all be found, whether in a state of becoming or

actually existing, to be contrary, transverse, and every way differing

from each other. This one thing, moreover, is to be understood

concerning all these matters, that the tendency of each towards a body

of similar nature gives to the body so attracted the name _heavy_, and

the place to which it tends, _down_ (or _below_); and thus to contrary

things are assigned contrary appellations. Such are the causes that we

assign to these phenomena. And again, as to the cause of the impression

of smoothness and roughness, every one who has investigated it will be

able to disclose it to others; for roughness comes from hardness joined

with unevenness, while smoothness is the united effect of uniformity and

density.

XXXVIII.—It remains for us now to consider what is most important in

those affections common to the whole body, which are the chief causes

of pleasure and pain, and to inquire how it is that certain

impressions excite through the parts of the body certain sensations

invariably attended by pleasure and pain. Thus then let us examine all

our impressions, whether sensible or not, calling to mind the

distinctions that we before made between bodies moved with ease and

those with difficulty;—for this is the way to arrive at the point that

we wish to determine. When a body by nature easily moveable has

received an impression ever so slight, the several parts communicate

it to the parts placed around them, producing on these parts the same

effect, until at length they reach the intellect itself, to which they

announce the power of the agents producing such impression;—whereas a

body, which on the contrary is firm and stable and has no circular

motion, is simply affected by itself without moving any of the

surrounding bodies; and hence, as their components do not mutually

communicate the first received impression, the entire animal remains

unmoved, and experiences no sensation. This is the case indeed as

respects the bones and hair, and such other parts of the body as are

chiefly of an earthy nature; whereas the phenomena above described

principally refer to the organs of sight and hearing, which contain an

abundance of fire and air. This is what we should hold then concerning

pleasure and pain:—an impression produced in us contrary to nature,

and with violence, causes pain,—one that is conformable to our nature,

however strong, pleasure;—whereas an impression that is gentle and

gradual is unperceived, while the contrary to these produces contrary

effects. An impression, again, the whole of which is easily produced,

is pre-eminently an object of sensation, but is not affected by

pleasure and pain:—and of this kind are the affections belonging to

the sight; which indeed, as we have above asserted, is a body of a

nature daily becoming allied to ourselves.[328] For in this way the

impressions caused by cuttings and burnings, and other similar

accidents, do not cause pain to the sight; nor again, does it

experience pleasure, from returning to its previous condition:—whereas

the sensations that are strongest and most clear do this, so far as

any one is affected by any object; and this is the reason why there is

no violence whatever either in its expansion or contraction. But

bodies composed from larger parts, which yield with difficulty to

impelling agents, and distribute their motion over the whole body, do

experience pleasure and pain; pain indeed, when they are often

alienated from their own nature, but pleasure when restored to their

former condition. Again, all bodies that admit of very gradual

withdrawals, and, as it were, emptyings of their own nature, and at

the same time receive supplies on a large scale, have no perception of

loss, though they have of what accrues to them; and hence, they do not

give pain to the mortal part of the soul, but on the contrary the

greatest delight:—and the truth of this is manifest from the sensation

of pleasant odours. But such bodies, on the other hand, as suffer

excessive variation, and can scarcely be restored even gradually to

their pristine condition, are affected in a manner quite the reverse

of those we have just described; the truth of which is manifest in the

case of burnings and wounds inflicted on the body.

-----

Footnote 328:

Allusion is here made to ch. xix. p. 350 of this translation.

-----

XXXIX.—Having thus then pretty fully discussed the common affections of

the whole body, and the appellations assigned to their effective causes,

we must now endeavour to explain, as far as we can, the affections that

arise in particular parts of us, as well as the causes by which they are

induced. In the first place then, let us if possible complete the

explanation of what we before left unfinished about those of the

juices—namely, the particular affections subsisting about the

tongue.[329] And these, as well as most others, appear to be produced by

certain expansions and contractions, the impressions formed thereby

depending more on smoothness and roughness than all other circumstances;

because, whenever anything falls on the small veins round the tongue

(which are the arbiters, as it were, of the taste stretching to the

heart), in such a way as to penetrate the moist and delicate texture of

the flesh, which through its earthy nature is in a melting state, it

contracts and dries up the veins:—and where these penetrating substances

are rougher than usual, they have an acrid taste (στρυφνά), if less so,

only one of sourness (αὐστηρά). Those on the contrary which purge, and

wash away whatever adheres to the tongue, if they do this to such an

immoderate degree, as somewhat to liquefy its nature, as nitre does;—all

such as these are termed _bitter_; while substances of inferior power to

nitre, which purge only moderately, we conceive to be _salt_, without

that rough bitterness, and to be more friendly to our nature. Again,

things heated by the temperature of the mouth, and thereby

softened—which reciprocally heat and are heated by it—and which through

their lightness are elevated towards the senses of the head, dividing at

the same time whatever comes in their way;—all these, owing to such

properties, are termed _pungent_ (δριμέα). But when these same

particles, thinned by putrefaction, enter into the narrow veins, and

there come into contact with earthy and airy particles of a suitable

size, and by making them mutually revolve, so mix them together as to

cause a confusion of their elements, and thus by entering other veins

form interstices in which the liquid, sometimes earthy, sometimes quite

pure, forms, as it were, certain air-cavities enclosed by water, some of

which formed of pure liquid are transparent, and called _bubbles_, while

those composed of earthy liquid and in a state of agitation have

received the name of seething (or boiling), and yeast (or leven);—the

effective cause of all this being termed _acid_ (ὀξύ). And an affection

contrary to all that has been asserted about these, proceeds from a

contrary cause; for, when the liquid compounds that enter the mouth are

naturally suited to the quality of the tongue, they lubricate its

asperities, as well as contract or relax such parts as were before

unnaturally dilated or compressed, and restore them, as far as possible,

to their proper and natural habit. Hence all such substances are

pleasant and friendly to every one, become the remedies of violent

passions, and are denominated _sweet_. And thus much may suffice

concerning particulars of this kind.

-----

Footnote 329:

Plato was not aware that the palate is the chief organ of taste, and

that these sensations are transmitted to the sensorium by means of

nerves (_i. e._ minute tubes filled with cerebral matter), all of

which communicate either with the spinal marrow or the brain

itself,—the centre of all sensation, as Herophilus and Erasistratus

held long prior to Galen. Plato, on the contrary, maintained that

these sensations were carried by certain small veins (or arteries,—for

he makes no distinction between them), to the liver—regarded by him as

the seat (comp. ch. xliv.) of the lower mortal soul. The heart was

regarded by Aristotle as the centre of the sensations.

-----

XL.—As respects the faculty of the nostrils, it admits of no

classification: for all odours whatever are but half-begotten,—there

being no substances so proportioned, as to give forth any particular

smell. Besides, our veins surrounding the nose are too narrow to admit

the various kinds of earth and water, and too broad for those of fire

and air; and hence no one ever perceives an odour from any of

these,—odours being produced from bodies that are damp, putrefying,

liquid, or vaporous;—for odours are generated by the change of water

into air, or air into water; and all these are either smoke or vapour.

And of these, that which passes from air into water is _vapour_,—that

which is changed from water into air, _smoke_;—whence it comes to pass

that all odours are more subtile than water, and denser than air. And

these facts are clearly shown, when any one, owing to any obstruction of

the respiration, draws his breath inwards; for then no odour filters

through, but breath only—unattended by any odours. This is why these two

varieties of them are without a name, being formed neither from many nor

from a simple species, the only two distinct terms respecting them,

being _pleasant_ or _unpleasant_; the latter of which irritate and

violently disturb the whole cavity lying between the top of the head and

the navel, while the former soothe the same part, and kindly restore it

to its natural condition.

XLI.—Let us next speak of and investigate the third kind of sense,—the

hearing, and the causes giving rise to the affections peculiar thereto.

Now we may generally define _voice_ as a certain pulsation of the air,

penetrating through the ears, brain, and blood, as far as the soul; and

the motion hence arising, which commences from the head and ends in the

seat of the liver, _hearing_;—and that when this motion is swift, it

emits a sharp sound, when slow, a flat one,—the former being uniform and

smooth, the latter quite the reverse and rough:—likewise, that when the

motion is on a large scale it will produce a loud sound, and when on a

small scale only a low one. But respecting the harmony of these sounds

we must speak in the subsequent part of this discourse.

XLII.—The fourth kind of sense, which is still left for us to discuss,

comprises a very large variety of what we generally term _colours_,

which consist of a flame emanating from individual bodies, and having

parts proportioned to the sight for producing sensation. But we have

already considered the effective causes of sight.[330] Here then we

ought to speak of colours, and what seems to us the most probable theory

respecting them.

Among the particles that fall from other bodies on the sight, some are

greater, others less than, and others equal to, those of the visual

fire. Such as are equal, then, are imperceptible, and are termed

transparent; while, as for those that are larger or smaller, the former

contract, the latter dilate the sight, having a power resembling that of

heat and cold on the flesh, or of things acrid, heating and pungent, on

the tongue. Particles affecting the sight in this manner are called

black and white;—having the property, indeed, of producing the same

modifications in bodies, though, being produced in different parts of

the organ, they still appear to produce different impressions. It is

thus, then, that we ought to term them,—_white_, that which dilates the

sight; and that which is opposite in its effect, _black_;—whereas, when

a sharper motion, and that, too, from a foreign fire, falls on and

divides the sight even as far as the eyes themselves, and both separates

and moistens the openings of the eyes, so as to force from them that

united flow of fire and water that we call tears, and which are of a

fiery nature coming from without,—these two fires meeting together with

a force like that of lightning, and then saturated and extinguished by

moisture, produce a great variety of colours, the impressions from which

we term _flashings_ (μαρμαρυγάς), and the objects producing them

_bright_ and _lustrous_. Another kind of fire, intermediate between

those just mentioned, and which reaches the moisture of the eyes, and

mingles with it, though by no means lustrous, and in which the rays of

fire are mingled with moisture, and form a bloody colour; this we

denominate _red_. A bright hue mingled with red and white forms the

colour called _yellow_; but as regards the measure in which they mingle

respectively, even a wise and thinking person could not explain it, were

he ever so well informed on the matter, as he could not adduce

concerning them any satisfactory reason, either necessary or probable.

Again, red, when mingled with black and white, produces a _purple_

colour; and a very deep colour is the result of their being mingled and

burnt together, with a further addition of black. A _tawny red_ is

produced from the mixture of yellow and brown, and _brown_ from the

mixture of black and white; and a pale colour from the mingling of white

and yellow. A brilliant white, falling on a large quantity of black,

constitutes a _dark blue_ (κυανοῦν); a deep blue mingled with white, a

_grey_ colour; and a tawny red mingled with black forms a _green_. All

the other tints it will be easy to conjecture from the above examples,

if one only reasons fairly from analogy. Nevertheless, any one who would

prove them by the test of experiment evinces great ignorance of the

difference between a divine and human nature; for a god indeed may be

able to mingle many things into one, and again dissolve the one into

many, through his united power and intelligence; but no man living can

accomplish either of these tasks, nor will any one in time to come.

-----

Footnote 330:

Comp. ch. xix. p. 350-352 of this volume.

-----

XLIII.—All these things which thus naturally subsist from necessity, the

artificer of what is most beautiful and best took for his elements of

creation, in producing a self-sufficient and most perfect god; employing

secondary causes indeed, but at the same time performing his work well

on all created beings. For this reason we must distinguish two species

of causes; the one necessary, the other divine. And in all things we

should inquire after the divine cause, with the view of obtaining a

blessed life in the highest degree of which our nature admits, for the

sake of which also we should investigate the necessary cause as

well,—convinced, that without these two classes of causes, we can

neither understand nor apprehend, nor otherwise engage in the several

objects of our anxious pursuit. Since, then, we have now before us the

various classes of causes, laid out like materials for our labour, and

which will serve as the matter from which we are to interweave the

remainder of our discourse, let us again briefly recur to our first

observations, and thence pass rapidly on to the place at which we are

now arrived; thus endeavouring to annex such an end and close to our

discourse, as may harmonize with its beginning.

XLIV. Just as we stated in the opening of our discourse,—when all

sensible things were in disorder, the Deity made each individually to

harmonize with itself and mutually with all the rest, so far as things

could possibly be brought into symmetry and proportion; because

formerly, nothing had any order except by accident, nor did anything

whatever deserve the names that things receive at present; such, for

instance, as fire, water, and the rest of the elements. All these,

however, the Creator put in order first of all, and then out of these

constructed the universe, as a single animal, containing within itself

different kinds of animals, mortal and immortal,[331]—he himself being

the artificer of Divine natures, but committing to his offspring (the

junior gods) the charge of producing those that are mortal. The latter,

in imitation of their father, receiving the immortal principle of the

soul, next fashioned[332] the mortal body, making it entirely to be a

vehicle thereto, and forming within it a separate mortal kind of soul,

possessed of certain dire and necessary passions: first, pleasure, the

chief lure to evil; next, pain, the desertion of what is good;—after

these again, temerity and fear, both mad advisers; anger, hard to be

appeased; hope, which is easily misled both by irrational sense, and

all-daring love. By mingling these together, they [the junior gods]

necessarily composed the mortal race. And on this account, fearing to

defile the Divine nature more than was absolutely necessary they lodged

man’s mortal portion separately from the Divine, in a different

receptacle of the body; forming the head and breast, and placing the

neck between, as an isthmus and limit to separate the two extremes.[333]

In the breast, indeed, and what is called the thorax [or trunk],[334]

they seated the mortal part of the soul. And as one part of it was

naturally better, and another worse, they formed the cavity of the

thorax into two divisions (resembling the separate dwellings of our men

and women), placing the midriff as a partition between them. That part

of the soul, therefore, which partakes of fortitude and spirit, and

loves contention, they seated nearer the head, between the midriff and

the neck; as it is the business of the reason to unite with it in

forcibly repressing the desires, whenever they will not obey the mandate

and word issuing from the citadel above.

-----

Footnote 331:

Comp. ch. xi. p. 335 of this translation, and also the concluding

sentence of the dialogue, p. 409.

Footnote 332:

Gr. περιετόρνευσαν, lit. _turned in a lathe_.

Footnote 333:

The _immortal_ soul Plato has already (ch. xix. xx.) placed in the

head,—in which opinion Hippocrates and Galen both coincide;—and he

composed it of two circles, and endowed it with three

faculties—intelligence (νόησις), science (ἐπιστήμη), and true opinion

(δόξα ἀληθής). Here, however, he speaks of the _mortal_ or sensuous

soul, which he divides into two distinct parts,—the _male_ or

spiritual portion (τὸ θυμικόν), and the _female_ or appetitive (τὸ

ἐπιθυμητικόν). This seems to have been a notion of the Pythagoreans.

Aristotle and Zeno placed the mortal soul in the heart only. On the

three souls and their respective energies, comp. Martin’s admirable

note, vol. ii. pp. 296-302, _Études, &c._

Footnote 334:

Gr. θώρακι, a word used by Plato and Aristotle to mean not merely the

upper part of the trunk, as by later writers, but the whole of it,

from the collar-bone down to the pelvis. The word κοιλία in ch. xlvi.

has a similar latitude of signification.

-----

XLV.—The heart, which is the head and principle[335] of the veins, as

well as the fountain of the blood that impetuously circulates through

all the members, they placed in a kind of sentry-house, that, in case of

any outburst of anger, being informed by the reason of any evil

committed in its members, owing either to some foreign cause, or else

internal passions, it (the heart) might transmit through all its

channels the threatenings and exhortations of reason, so as once more to

reduce the body to perfect obedience, and so permit what is the best

within us to maintain supreme command.

But as the gods foreknew, with respect to the palpitation of the heart

under the dread of danger and the excitements of passion, that all such

swellings of the inflamed spirit would be produced by fire, they formed

the lungs to be a sort of protection thereto; first, of all, soft and

bloodless,[336] and next, internally provided with cavities perforated

like a sponge, in order to cool the breath which they receive, and give

the heart easy respiration and repose in its excessive heat. On this

account then, they led the channels of the windpipe into the lungs,

which they placed like a soft cushion round the heart, in order that

when anger rises in it to an extreme height, it might fall on some

yielding substance, and so getting cool, yield cheerfully and with less

trouble to the authority of reason.

-----

Footnote 335:

Gr. ἀρχὴν. This reading is introduced by Stallbaum (and followed by

Cousin) from three of the best MSS. The old editions have ἅμα, which

Stephens altered into ἅμμα (_a knot_ or ganglion), and Toup into νᾶμα,

both on mere conjecture. Plato clearly thought that the heart was the

source of the blood and the centre of union for the veins, which he

regards as messengers transmitting to the whole body the orders coming

from the male part of the mortal soul; but he runs into the error of

attributing to them the function of nerves, as well of motion as

sensation. We may remark further, that he considers the veins to have

two centres—the heart and the liver, which are the two seats of the

mortal soul, and makes no distinction whatever between veins and

arteries. See Martin’s note, 140; ii. 301-304.

Footnote 336:

Plato is quite wrong in stating this;—for all the blood passes through

them, in order to be supplied with oxygen by the air contained in the

cells. This, however, is not nearly so great an error as his statement

in ch. lxxiii. (speaking of generation), that the fluids we drink pass

through the lungs into the bladder!

-----

XLVI. That part of the soul next, which has a desire for meats, drinks,

and all else that is necessary for the natural supplies of the body,

they placed between the midriff and the region of the navel; forming, as

it were, in all this place a sort of manger for the nutriment of the

body; and then they bound it on to it, like some savage animal, annexed

as necessary to nourish the mortal race afterwards to be brought into

existence. This place of course the gods assigned it, in order that ever

feeding at its manger, and dwelling as far off as possible from the

deliberative part of the soul, it might make the least possible degree

of tumult and noise, and permit the best portion of our nature to

consult in quiet for the common benefit of the whole. Knowing also that

this part would not acquiesce with the reason, and, even if it had any

faculty of sense, yet would not regard the processes of reasoning, but

be chiefly lured away, both day and night, by images and

phantasms,—reflecting on this, the Deity formed the liver, assigning it

the place it occupies. And he made it compact and smooth, shiny and

sweet, and yet somewhat bitter,—in order that the multitude of thoughts

falling on it from the intellect as on a mirror that receives and

presents images to the view, might on the one side terrify it by

employing a bitterness akin to its nature; and proceeding to dreadful

threats, gradually mingle this bitterness with the whole liver so as to

present the dark hues of bile, and by contracting it, render it

throughout rough and wrinkled;—or on the other, partly by removing the

liver from its right place and contracting it, partly by obstructing and

closing its ventricles and gates, cause impressions of pain and

disgust:—whereas, on the contrary, when a gentle inspiration—the result

of intelligence—depicts on it images of quite an opposite character,

softens its bitterness by avoiding to agitate or touch anything contrary

to its own nature,—it then gives it a softness peculiarly its own, and

makes all its parts regular, polished, and free,—giving joy and peace to

that part of the soul which resides near the liver, and making it enjoy

a suitable repose at night, with the power of divination during sleep,

to make up for its want both of reason and wisdom.[337]

-----

Footnote 337:

Plato, in this purely fanciful description of the liver and spleen,

seems to have been ignorant of the great use of the bile in promoting

the digestion of the food during its passage through the duodenum; for

in ch. lxiv. he considers it wholly in the light of a vicious

secretion, though he acknowledges its presence in the healthy body as

exercising a great influence over dreams and divination. Aristotle,

while refuting Plato, is not a whit more correct as to this question

in the animal economy. Hist. Anim. iv. 2.

-----

XLVII. Those, forsooth, who created us, calling to mind their father’s

command, when he bid them make the mortal race as good as they possibly

could, formed even the inferior part of us to have some connexion with

truth, by establishing within it the faculty of divination. And a

sufficiently clear proof, that the Deity assigned prophetic power[338]

to human madness, is found in the fact that no one in his right senses

has any concern with divinely inspired and true prophecy, which takes

place only when the reasoning faculty is fettered by sleep, or alienated

by disease or enthusiasm; while, on the other hand, it requires a person

of considerable wisdom to understand the recorded sayings, whether

sleeping or waking, of a prophetic and divinely-inspired nature, and so

to distinguish all the phenomena it beholds as to be able to explain in

what way and to whom they portend any future, past, or present good or

evil; it being by no means the office of one who either has been, or is

still mad, to judge respecting things seen or spoken by himself:—and it

has been well observed by the ancients, that to transact and know one’s

own concerns and oneself is alone the province of a prudent man;—whence,

indeed, the law directs that the race of prophets (or interpreters)

should preside as judges over divine predictions,—whom some indeed call

diviners, through entire ignorance that they are only the representers

of enigmas and visions, and not at all entitled to be called

diviners,—being, strictly speaking, interpreters of prophecies.

The liver then was constructed for this purpose, and seated where we

have mentioned, for the sake of prediction. And besides, in every living

individual, this organ gives forth unusually clear indications; but in

those deprived of life, it becomes blind and delivers oracles too

obscure for their meaning to be made intelligible. The nature and

position of the intestines, again, which is next to it [the liver], is

on the left side, for the purpose of always, like a sponge,[339] keeping

it clean and bright, ready to reflect images; on which account,

therefore, when certain impurities are produced in the liver by bodily

disease, then the spleen, by its rarity, receives and purifies them all,

from being of a hollow and bloodless texture;—and hence, is it, that

when filled with unclean matter, it grows to a large size and becomes

wholly unsound. And again, when the body is purified, it subsides into

its natural condition, as before.

-----

Footnote 338:

A distinction is to be observed between μάντεις and προφῆται,—the

former referring to the _interpreters_, the latter to the _utterers_

only of the divine oracles; but the words, as Plato observes, have

often been confounded.

Footnote 339: