which was first shown by Barker in No. xlvi. of the Class. Journal, p.
201.
-----
XLVIII. As respects the soul, then, including both its mortal and divine
portion, in what way it existed, and in what way and why it was
consigned to a separate habitation, the truth can be firmly established
only by the consent of the Deity:—still, that we have stated what is
near the truth, we will now, quite open to investigation, venture the
assertion; and here accordingly it is made.[340] And what next follows
we must treat in a similar manner; and this is no other, than how the
rest of the body was produced. It is, therefore, in the most eminent
degree becoming that they should be composed as follows:—Those who
formed our race were aware, that we should be intemperate in eating and
drinking, and that through madness we should use far more than is either
necessary or moderate. For fear then of rapid destruction induced by
disease, and lest our mortal race should perish without fulfilling its
end,—to provide against this, the gods formed for the reception of the
superfluous food a receptacle beneath, called _a belly_, and formed in
it the convolutions of the intestines to prevent the food from passing
so quickly as to require fresh and rapid supplies of nutriment for the
body, and so by insatiable gluttony making our whole race
unphilosophical and unmusical, insubordinate to the most godlike part of
our composition.[341]
-----
Footnote 340:
Gr. τό γε μὴν εἰκὸς ἡμῖν εἰρῆσθαι καὶ νῦν καὶ ἔτι μᾶλλον ἀνασκοποῦσι
διακινδυνευτέον τὸ φάναι, καὶ πεφάσθω.
Footnote 341:
The intestines are not, as Plato seems to think, solely destined to
receive the excess of food. It is in the stomach that digestion
commences, and it ends in the intestines, from which the chyle
produced from the food is sent to the lungs to form blood. Aristotle’s
ideas on this point are more correct. Hist. Anim. iii. 14.
-----
XLIX. The nature of the bones and flesh, and other parts of this kind,
was constituted as follows:—The first principle of all these is the
generation of the marrow; for the life-bonds of the soul that united it
with the body being herein woven together, constitute the foundation of
the mortal race. The marrow itself, however, has a different origin; for
among the triangles, those of the first order, that are unbent and
smooth, were specially adapted by their accuracy for producing fire and
water, air and earth:[342]—these the Deity, separating each apart from
its own class, and mingling them together in fixed proportions, composed
by these means an all-varying mixture of seeds for the whole mortal
race, and from these produced the marrow;—and he afterwards implanted
this marrow, binding therein the various classes of souls; and as
respects the number of figures and what individual forms the marrow was
to receive, he divided it, both as regards the quality and quantity of
the particles, at the original distribution,—giving to that part of it
which was to be the field for containing the divine seed a completely
globular shape; and this he called the _brain_, because in every animal
that has arrived at its perfect form, the vessel containing this
substance is called the _head_.[343] But as respects the part destined
to contain the remaining and mortal part of the soul, to this he gave
both round and oblong shapes, giving to the whole the name of _marrow_;
and from these, as from anchors, casting the bonds of the entire soul,
he built around it our whole body, after first fixing round it a
complete covering of bones.
-----
Footnote 342:
Respecting these triangles, see ch. xxviii., and further on at ch.
lxii. They are in fact the primary atoms, of which the body is
composed, and are of different classes, according to the parts or
organs of which they are the components.
Footnote 343:
There is a play here on the words κεφαλὴ and ἐγκέφαλον, which cannot
be translated.
-----
L. The bones he composed as follows:—Having sifted pure and smooth
earth, he mingled and moistened it with marrow; and after this he placed
it in fire, then plunged it in water, once more placed it in fire, and
after this dipped it in water: and thus by frequent transfers of each,
he made it insoluble by either. With this bone, then, he fashioned a
sphere, as on a lathe, placing it round the brain, and only leaving a
narrow hole therein. At the same time also he formed of the same
substance certain vertebræ about the marrow of the neck and back,
extending them like hinges, from the head downwards through the whole
trunk;—and thus he preserved all its seed, by fortifying it round with a
stony covering,—forming in it joints also, for motion and flexion,
employing the power of difference in their formation, as being possessed
of a certain middle quality.[344] Then, considering that the bone would
have a tendency to become dry and inflexible, and that when heated and
again cooled, it would become carious, and quickly corrupt the seed it
contained, he on this account formed the sinews and flesh; that the
former, by binding all the parts of the body, and being stretched and
loosened about the vertebræ, might give the body a facility for either
flexion or extension, as occasion required; while the flesh would serve
as a covering from the heat and defence from the cold;—as likewise for a
protection against falls, in the same manner as cushions do it, by
gently and easily yielding to external bodies:[345] and he implanted in
it also a hot moisture, which perspires in summer, and gives forth an
external dew, to impart a coolness to the whole body,—and again in
winter, gently keeps out by its own fire the cold brought from without.
-----
Footnote 344:
Gr. τῇ θατέρου προσχρώμενος ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὡς μέσῃ ἐνισταμένῃ δυνάμει.
Comp. a similar passage in the succeeding chapter.
Footnote 345:
Gr. ἔτι δὲ πτωμάτων οἷον τὰ πιλητὰ ἔσεσθαι κτήματα. A similar idea is
nearly similarly expressed by Longinus, xxxii. sect. 5. τὴν σάρκα οἷον
πιλήματα προθέμενοι.
-----
LI.—Our plastic Creator, reflecting on all this then, mingled and united
water, fire, and earth, gradually mixing therewith a ferment of acid and
salt;[346]—and thus he composed a pulpy, soft flesh:—And as for the
tendons, he formed them of a mixture of bone and unfermented flesh, so
as to have the properties of both, tinging them also with a yellow
colour. And on this account is it, that the tendons are firmer and more
viscous than the flesh, but softer and moister than the bones. With
these God bound together the bones and marrow, afterwards enshrouding
the whole of them with the covering of the flesh. Such of the bones,
then, as were most ensouled, he covered with the smallest quantity of
flesh,—such as were least so, with the most and the densest flesh. And
besides this, except where reason evinced the need of the contrary, he
placed only a small quantity of flesh on the joints of the bones; lest
they should make the body uneasy by impeding its flexions and motion; or
else, from being many and frequent, and strongly pressed together, cause
by their solidity a dulness of perception, imperfection of memory, and a
sort of intellectual blindness. On this account then, the bones of the
groin, legs, loins, the shoulders and the arms from the elbow to the
wrist, and such other parts of our bodies as have no joints, and such
inward bones as have no thought, owing to the scarcity of soul in the
marrow, are fully provided with flesh;—whereas those that have thought,
he covered with less, except the flesh were for perception, as in the
case of the tongue. In other respects, the case is as we have described.
For a being born and nurtured under necessity,[347] does not receive a
hard bone united with plenty of flesh, and with it also a quickness of
sensation. And yet the head would have been thus constructed, if the two
had exercised any will in thus coalescing; and the human race, having a
fleshy, tendinous, and robust head, would enjoy healthy and unmolested a
life twice as long as the present, or even yet longer than that: but the
artificers of our race, after thoroughly considering whether they had
better make it more lasting and of worse condition, or shorter but of a
more excellent character, were agreed that a shorter but better life was
wholly preferable to one longer, but inferior:—and this was why they
covered the head with a thin bone, and not with flesh and fibre,—because
it had no joints. On all these accounts, then, the body was provided
with a head, which was the more perceptive and reflecting, in proportion
as it was [physically] weaker than all the rest of man’s structure. From
these causes, then, and in this manner,[348] the Deity placing tendons
round the lower extremity of the head, glued them, as it were, round the
neck, and bound with them the lofty cheek-bones placed under the
forehead;—and as for all the rest, he scattered them through all the
members, connecting joint with joint.
-----
Footnote 346:
Gr. ἐξ ὀξέος καὶ ἁλμυροῦ ξυνθεὶς ζύμωμα καὶ ὑπομίξας αὐτοῖς, σάρκα
ἔγχυμον καὶ μαλακὴν ξυνέστησε. Plato here alludes, however, not only
to the σάρκες or muscular fibre, but to the whole cellular tissue and
integument that form a general covering and defence for the entire
body. The word νεῦρον in the succeeding sentence refers not to the
pulpy, delicate fibres now called by that name, but to the tendons and
ligaments that hold an intermediate position between flesh and bone.
Footnote 347:
Plato here alludes to the soul of man, which is said to be generated
and composed by necessity in consequence of its union with the body.
Footnote 348:
Gr. ἐπ’ ἐσχάτην τὴν κεφαλὴν περιστήσας κύκλῳ περὶ τὸν τράχηλον
ἐκόλλησεν ὁμοιότητι, &c.
-----
LII.—We were next provided by those who formed us with the organs of the
mouth, teeth, tongue, and lips,—arranged as they now are for purposes
both necessary and the best; giving ingress for necessaries, and egress
to what is best,—everything, indeed, that enters to feed the body being
necessary—while the stream of words flowing outwards; if guided by
wisdom, is by far the fairest and best of all streams whatever.
LIII.—Again, it was not possible that the head could bear a mere
covering of thin bone, owing to the extremes of the different seasons;
nor again, could it be allowed to become clouded, blind, and
unperceptive, through the overcrowding of flesh. Hence a fleshy
membrane, not dried, was left separate from the rest,—that now termed
cuticle (or scalp). This, then, being brought into union with itself by
the moisture about the brain, grows around and circularly invests the
head. And it is the moisture flowing under the sutures that moistens
this membrane, and causes it to close at the crown, connecting it as in
a knot. But as for the ever-varying classes of sutures, these are
generated through the power of the periodic changes caused by nutriment
in the flesh;[349] the variety becoming greater, when they struggle with
each other more violently—less so, when less violently. All this
membrane the Divine Being pierced all round with fire:—and hence, as it
was wounded, and the moisture externally flowed through it, all that was
pure of the moisture and heat was carried off, while that which was
mixed, and of a nature allied to that of the membrane itself, being
raised by the motion, was stretched outwards to a great size, having
also a tenuity equal to the amount of puncture,—whereas, on the other
hand, when continually thrust back through the slowness of its motion by
the spirit surrounding it externally, it again revolves under the
membrane and there becomes firmly rooted. And owing to these affections
is it, that the hair springs up on the membrane of the head, being
naturally allied, and serving as a rein to this membrane, but at the
same time becoming harder and denser through the pressure of the cold,
which hardens each hair, as it proceeds beyond the skin.[350] Thus,
then, by the means above mentioned, did our Creator plant the head with
hairs, reflecting at the same time that instead of flesh a light
covering was needed to guard the brain, and give it shade and protection
from the extremes of heat and cold without hindering its acuteness of
sensation.
-----
Footnote 349:
So we have ventured (taking it as a case of ἕν διὰ δυοῖν) to render
the words διὰ τὴν περιόδων δύναμιν καὶ τῆς τροφῆς. These _periods_ are
certain changes caused from time to time in the flesh by the motion of
its particles, both solid and fluid,—and this owing to the constant
supplies of food. A notion very much resembling it has been propounded
by modern physiologists.
Footnote 350:
The meaning of the sentence seems to be, that the whole _cutis_ or
scalp of the head was perforated by fire, and through the holes thus
formed, there issued certain delicate streams of fluid which were
hardened into fibre, as they rose above the skin and encountered the
pressure of the external atmosphere.
-----
LIV.—But the mass of tendon, skin, and bone that is interwoven about the
fingers, being a mixture of three substances, becomes, when dried, one
common hard membrane composed of all in common—fashioned indeed with
these as instrumental causes, but effectively produced by that
reflection which ever has an eye to the future:—for those who formed us
well knew, that women and other animals would some day be generated from
men, and that nails would be of the greatest use in several respects to
many of the animals:—and this was the reason, why they stamped in men
the pattern of the nails at their first birth. It was from these causes,
then, and with these intentions, that they implanted skin, hairs, and
nails at the extremities of the limbs.
LV.—As the parts and members of the mortal animal however were all
allied in nature, and their life necessarily resulted from fire and
spirit, the decay and exhaustion of which would cause it to perish
quickly, the gods provided for it the following remedy:—Intermingling a
nature resembling that of man with other forms and senses, they planted
as it were other animals,—such as kindly-disposed trees, plants, and
seeds, which are made useful to us by the nurture and training of
agriculture; though before there were only those of a rustic kind, which
are more ancient than those that are cultivated.[351] Everything indeed
that partakes of life we may justly and most correctly call an
animal;—but that in particular, of which we are now speaking, is
possessed of the third species of soul,[352] which we place between the
midriff and the navel: and which has no share either in opinion, reason,
or intellect, though possessing a sense of pleasure and pain, as well as
desire. It effects all things indeed by passion (or appetite); and it
does this by the evolution of its internal power and the employment of
its own motion to the exclusion of every other, as it has not been
formed with a nature capable of reasoning on its own concerns.[353] It
thus lives in no way different from an animal, except in being firmly
rooted in a fixed position and deprived of original motion.
-----
Footnote 351:
The question, whether plants are a distinct kind of animals, which was
held by all the Platonic philosophers, is touched on by Plutarch, De
Plac. Philos. v. 26, sect. 10, and by Cicero, Tusc. i. 26, where he
remarks:—“_tam naturæ putarem hominis vitam sustentari, quam vitis aut
arboris:—hæc enim etiam dicimus vivere_.”
Footnote 352:
_I. e._ τὸ ἐπιθυμητικόν.
Footnote 353:
What Plato here means, seems simply to be, that it is by turning in
and about themselves; that is, by growth, without locomotion, that
plants develop the perfection and beauty of their nature, without
being in any way obliged for their origin or nature to the objects by
which they are surrounded. The phrase στραφέντι αὐτῷ ἐν ἑαυτῷ περὶ
ἑαυτό is somewhat difficult, but is explained by a sentence in the
Theætetus (p. 181, c.), where ἀλλοίωσις is also used to express the
contrary notion.
-----
LVI.—Now after the directing artificers of our structure had implanted
all these organs for giving nutriment to our inferior nature, they
directed various channels through our body, so as to water it like a
garden, by the constant accession of flowing moisture.[354] And first,
they cut two hidden channels beneath the juncture of the skin and flesh,
viz. two veins going down the back to correspond with the double figure
of the body, both on the right and left sides. These they placed close
to the back-bone, so as to receive between them the marrow, the growth
of which might be thus promoted, and that the flood supplied thence to
other parts, might give an equable irrigation;—and then, dividing the
veins about the head, and mutually interweaving them, they distributed
them in opposite directions,—inclining some from the right to the left
of the body, and some from the left to the right, that there might be a
chain formed by the skin to unite the head to the body, there being no
interlacing of tendons round the head,—and besides this, that the
affection of sensation might from each of these parts pass round and
through the body. It was in some such way as this, then, that they
prepared the channel, of which we speak; and its truth we shall easily
perceive by assenting to our previous position,—that all things composed
of greater parts may envelop such as are less, while those consisting of
less cannot envelop the greater. But fire is, of all classes of things,
composed of the smallest parts; and hence it penetrates through water,
earth, and air, and their several compounds,—and this to such an extent
that nothing can retain it. The same remark is true of our belly, which
is able to retain any food that has been introduced, but cannot hold
spirit and fire, because they consist of smaller particles than those
composing the belly.
LVII.—These channels therefore the Deity employed for the purpose of
distributing moisture from the belly into the veins, by weaving with
fire and air a network resembling basket-nets (or weeds), with two
curved passages of entrance,—one of which he again twisted and divided
into two branches, winding the continuations of these curved passages
like coils of rope in every direction as far as the ends of the net. Now
all the inner parts of the network he composed of fire, but the great
flexures and the receptacle itself of air;—and lastly, he took and
placed them in the new-formed animal, as follows. One of the curved
passages he placed in the mouth; but, as this part has two flexures, he
caused one (_i. e._ the trachea) to pass along the arteries into the
lungs, the other (_i. e._ the œsophagus) by the side of the arteries
into the belly. The other curved part he divided into two separate
passages, making them pass in common to the channels of the nose, so
that when the one does not reach the mouth, all the streams of the other
might still be filled from this. But as for the remaining part of the
hollow network, he made it extend all over the concavity of the body,
and the whole of it flow gently together into the curved passages, as
being of an airy texture, and at another time to flow through them
backwards. But the net, which is of a thin structure, he so disposed as
to make it penetrate through and again emerge.[355] Besides this, he
ordered that the interior rays of fire should follow in constant
succession, the air at the same time passing into each, and that this
should never cease to be the case, as long as the mortal animal’s life
continued. And as respects the name of this kind of motion, we call it
expiration and inspiration. Now this whole action and affection that it
produces in our nature, is caused by certain bodily moistenings and
coolings, alike conducive to our nutriment and life:—for as the breath
passes in and out, an interior fire attends it in its course; and when
it is diffused through the belly and meets with solid and liquid food,
it reduces them both to a state of moisture, and by dividing them into
very small parts, carries them along in its course; pouring them, as
from a fountain, into the veins, and so cutting channels through the
body as through an aqueduct.
-----
Footnote 354:
This passage is well illustrated by Longinus, xxxii. sect. 5, where he
is illustrating the power of metaphor:—τῆς δὲ τροφῆς ἕνεκα, φησί,
διωχέτευσαν τὸ σῶμα, τέμνοντες ὥσπερ ἐν κήποις ὀχετούς, ὡς ἔκ τινος
νάματος ἐπιόντος, ἀραιοῦ ὄντος αὐλῶνος τοῦ σώματος, τὰ τῶν φλεβῶν ῥέοι
νάματα. A very similar passage occurs in the Timæus Locrus, p. 101,
c., p. 437 of vol. vii. in Stallbaum’s edition of Plato’s works.
Footnote 355:
The whole of this description refers to the œsophagus, which enters
the upper part of the stomach, and runs side by side with the trachea,
which divides to form the entrance to the two great cells of the
lungs. This division is no doubt that of one of the ἐγκύρτια, which,
it is said, God διέπλεξε δίκρουν, and then subdivided it into the
numerous bronchial tubes that ramify in all directions over the
surface of the lungs, _i. e._ διὰ παντὸς πρὸς τὰ ἔσχατα τοῦ πλέγματος.
It may also be added that in the mouth are two passages leading up to
the channels of the nose. The meaning is exceedingly obscure; but the
reader is referred to Stallbaum and Martin for several long
explanatory notes on this curious account.
-----
LVIII.—But again let us consider the affection of breathing, and
investigate the causes which gave it its present nature. We should
reason on it, therefore, as follows:—As there is no such thing in nature
as a vacuum into which a moving body can enter, and as breath passes
from us outwards, every one is aware that it cannot escape into void
space, but must thrust out whatever is nearest; again, that the body
must always repel that ever nearest, and that from a necessity of this
kind, everything impelled into the place vacated by the emitted breath
must, after entering and filling up this space, attend on the breath as
it travels. And all this must take place like the revolution of a wheel,
through the impossibility of a vacuum. Hence, the breast and lungs,
after dismissing the breath outwards, are again inflated by the entrance
of the air surrounding the body into and around the cavities of the
flesh. And when the air is again sent outwards and flows round the body,
it drives the breath inwards through the mouth and nostrils.
LIX.—And as regards the cause from which they derive their origin, we
may propose the following. In every animal in the universe those of its
internal parts are the hottest which surround the veins and blood, just
as if they contained a fountain of fire;[356] and this heat we compared
to a bow-net, extending through the middle of the body, and woven wholly
of fire; all outside of it being composed of air. Yet heat, it must be
agreed, naturally proceeds outward into a region with which it is
allied. But as there are two passages for the heat,—one through the body
outwards, the other again through the mouth and nostrils; hence, when
the breath is impelled towards the latter, it in turn repels that
latter. But that which is drawn into the fire becomes heated by so
falling, while what is exhaled becomes cooled;—and so, owing to the
change of temperature, they pass again into their former condition,
whether hot or cold, through the mutual repulsion of each other; and as
the same influence is constant and mutually operating, its circular
agitation gives birth to the expiration and inspiration of the breath.
-----
Footnote 356:
Gr. πᾶν ζῶον αὑτοῦ τἄντος περὶ τὸ αἷμα καὶ τὰς φλεβάς θερμοτάτας ἔχει,
οἷον ἐν αὑτῷ πηγήν τινα ἐνοῦσαν πυρός. The common reading has πάντως,
instead of τἄντος, and θερμότητα for θερμοτάτας.
-----
LX.—To the same causes may we ascribe the impressions produced by
medical cupping-glasses, by swallowing drink, by the violent hurlings of
bodies, whether upwards or on the ground, together with such sounds as
appear swift or slow, sharp or flat,—and which at one time are
discordant, owing to the dissimilitude of the motion which they cause
within us, and at another harmonize, through the similitude of that
motion. For the slower sounds catch up those antecedent and swifter,
because the latter slacken their pace to one like their own; and by so
following the swifter, they still urge them onward,—though without
disturbing the motion by introducing another, but making their slower
rate to approach gradually to that of the swifter;—and this mixed
impression from the sharp and flat (_i. e._ the quick and slow) forms a
single note; whence results the pleasure felt even by the unwise, but
really entertained by the wise, which is owing to the imitation of
Divine harmony that exists in mortal motions.[357] And, indeed, with
respect to all the motions of water, the fallings of thunder, and the
wonderful circumstances observed in the attraction of amber, and the
Herculean stone,[358]—in all these, no real attraction takes place at
all; but as a vacuum can nowhere be found, the particles are mutually
impelled by each other; hence, as they all individually, both in a
separate and mingled state, have an attraction for their own proper
seats, it is by the mutual intermingling of these affections, that such
admirable effects present themselves to the view of the accurate
investigator.
-----
Footnote 357:
Comp. ch. xviii. and xx. with Republ. vii. ch. 12, where the harmony
of the soul is treated more at length. See also Martin, ii. p. 339.
Footnote 358:
This is a very memorable passage, and clearly shows that Plato was not
only well acquainted with the doctrine of attraction and repulsion,
but was of opinion also that the law of repulsion depended on the
congregation of similar elements throughout all nature. The whole
matter, however, is largely treated by Plutarch in his sixth Platonic
Dissertation, vol. ii. p. 1004, ed. Par.
-----
LXI.—It is specially owing to this cause, that respiration (whence our
discourse originated) is generated; and after the manner that we have
before shown;—namely, that as fire divides the food and rises internally
to attend on the breath, the veins from the belly become filled by this
joint elevation, in consequence of drawing thence the divided portions
of the food; so that by these means, through every animal body the
streams of nutriment are abundantly diffused. But the parts which are
recently cut apart and separated from their kindred natures,—some of
them fruits and others grasses, and produced by the Deity for bodily
food, acquire varieties of colour through their mutual admixture; though
for the most part the red predominates,[359] as its nature consists of
fire combined with a lump of moist mud. Hence also the colour of that
which flows about the body is just what it seems, and is also called
_blood_, being the nurturing principle of the flesh and whole body; and
so by everywhere diffusing its moisture, it copiously replenishes all
the exhausted parts.
-----
Footnote 359:
Respecting the origin of the colour _red_, comp. ch. xlii. Galen thus
speaks of this opinion about the blood (vii. ch. 159)—τὴν ἐρυθρὰν
χρόαν γεννᾶσθαί φησι ἐν τῷ αἵματι διὰ τὴν τοῦ πυρὸς ἐξόμορξιν.
-----
As for the manner of impletion and depletion, it is produced in the same
way as the change of everything in the universe; viz. from the
circumstance of all kindred natures having a common attraction:—for the
natures with which we are clothed externally, are perpetually melting
and being distributed, each form of matter departing to that with which
it is allied. But the particles of blood which are contained in, and
distributed throughout our bodies, as is the case with every animal
created under heaven, necessarily imitate the motion of the universe.
Each, therefore, of the divided parts within us, being borne along to
its kindred nature, again replenishes what is void. But when the
decretions exceed the accessions, the whole animal falls into decay; but
in the contrary case, it acquires growth.
LXII.—The new composition therefore of every animal, as it has new
triangles, [_i. e._ elementary principles,] formed as it were from fresh
timbers, causes them to lock closely within each other,—the whole of its
bulk being of a delicate structure, formed of fresh marrow and fed on
milk. Those triangles, therefore, that compose the bodily aliment,
having entered it from without and been received into the animal, from
being older and weaker than the simple original triangles therewith
agreeing, are overpowered and destroyed by the new triangles; and the
animal grows to a large size, because it is supplied from a multitude of
similar parts. But when the root of these triangles is relaxed by
fatigue and dulness, brought on by the repulsion of many particles
during a long period of time, then the food received can no longer cut
into its own similitude; but they are themselves easily separated by the
bodies that enter from without. Overcome by this, the whole animal at
length decays; and this state is what we call old age:—and at last, when
the jointed chains of the triangles about the marrow can no longer hold,
but through long employment get unfastened and set free the bonds of the
soul,—the soul thus loosened naturally flies off with pleasure and
delight; for everything contrary to nature is painful, while the natural
is pleasant. Hence the death caused by wounds and disease is painful and
violent,—while that which follows old age, as the end agreeable to
nature, is of all deaths the least irksome, and attended rather by
pleasure than pain.[360]
-----
Footnote 360:
It is this kind of death of which he speaks in the Georgics (p. 524)—ὁ
θάνατος τυγχάνει ὢν οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ δυοῖν πραγμάτοιν διάλυσις, τῆς Ψυχῆς
καὶ τοῦ σώματος ἀπ’ ἀλλήλων. Comp. also Plutarch, De Plac. Phil. v.
sect. 24, where he records also the opinions of many others on the
same topic.
-----
LXIII.—As to the origin of diseases, that must be obvious to every
one:—for as there are four component elements of the body, viz. earth,
fire, water, and air, the unnatural over-abundance or defect of these,
and their removal from their own to a different position,—those of fire,
we mean, and the other classes, for there are more than one,—these are
the causes why they do not each receive what suits their peculiar
nature, and they necessarily produce disturbances and diseases: for as
these are severally generated and transferred in a way contrary to
nature, such things as were formerly heated become cold, what were once
dry moist, the light heavy—all things, in short, undergo all possible
mutations. For we assert that it is only when the same thing approaches
to and departs from the same in the same manner and according to
analogy, that it will allow what is the same with itself to abide in
health and safety: and should any of them be in discordance, whether
approaching or departing, it will cause all varieties of alienations, as
well as unnumbered diseases and corruptions. But having now found the
second set of conditions suitable to nature, the second mode of
considering diseases also is now open to any one desirous of so
doing.[361] For as the marrow, bone, flesh, and sinew are composed of
those [elements,] as likewise the blood in another way, though from a
similar origin, so also most other diseases owe their severity to the
causes we have mentioned; though the greatest of them are to be traced
to the following cause:—When the generation of these various [bodily
substances] takes place inversely, then they become subject to
corruption:—for the flesh and sinews are naturally formed from
blood,—the sinews indeed from fibres, through the connexion between
these, but the flesh from its union with that which when in a separate
state becomes solid:—while the glutinous and fatty substance again which
is formed from sinews and flesh, at once unites[362] the flesh to the
bone, and itself feeds the growth of the bone itself, with which the
marrow is surrounded. And again, that which filters through the solid
part of the bones, being the purest kind of the triangles, as well as
most smooth and unctuous, moistens the marrow by falling drop by drop
from the bones.
-----
Footnote 361:
He now proceeds to consider the second cause of diseases—from the
deprivation of the compound substances of the body,—blood, bile,
flesh, marrow, &c., which can easily be comprehended, says he, by
those who have followed him in his speculations on the first.
Footnote 362:
The old reading was πολλά: but the best MSS. have κολλᾷ.
-----
LXIV.—When these several things are the case, health mostly ensues; but
when the contrary happens—disease. For when the flesh becomes liquefied
and sends back what it loses into the veins, then the blood mingled with
spirit flows abundantly, and of all kinds, through the veins, with
different degrees of colours and bitterness;[363] and yet further, from
its acid and salt qualities, it generates all kinds of bile, lymph, and
phlegm;—for as they are all generated and corrupted in an opposite way,
they first of all destroy the blood itself;[364] and the fluids that can
no longer afford nutriment to the body, are borne along the veins
without any natural order of circulation; at variance, indeed, with each
other, because they derive no mutual advantages from the properties of
each, but [positively] hostile to the constitution of the body, and its
maintenance in health,—in short, destroying it and bringing it to
putrefaction.
Such, therefore, of the flesh as becomes liquefied by its great age,
being indisposed to putrefy, grows black from long burning; and from
having been entirely macerated it becomes bitter, and falls into
discontent with the other parts of the body not yet infected with
corruption. And then, indeed, instead of bitterness, the black part
assumes an acidity, if the bitter becomes more attenuated: but when the
bitterness is tinged with blood, it becomes still redder; and when mixed
with black, it assumes the nature of bile:—and yet further, to the
bitterness is added a yellow colour through the melting of new flesh on
the fire surrounding the flame. And this common name for all these some
of the physicians assigned them,—or at any rate some who were able to
consider many things dissimilar, and to detect in a single class a great
number of particulars all deserving a special name. But all else that
may be called kinds of bile, receive, according to colour, a name
peculiar to each. As for _lymph_ (ἴχωρ), the whey of the blood, it is
gentle and mild: while the sediment of black, acid bile, is fierce and
wild;—and when mingled by heat with anything of a saline quality, it is
called _acid phlegm_. Again, the moisture running from new and tender
flesh mingled with the air, which is afterwards inflated and enclosed by
moisture, produces bubbles, which separately are invisible, owing to
their small size, but when collected in a large bulk become visible, and
acquire a white colour from the generation of froth. And all this
liquefaction of delicate flesh, when woven together with spirit, we term
_white phlegm_,—the sediment of recent phlegm, _tears_ and _sweat_;
together with all such secretions that the body sends forth for its
purification.
-----
Footnote 363:
Gr. πικρότητι. The old editions read πυκνότητι ποικιλούμενον.
Footnote 364:
What he here means is—that the health of the body mainly depends on
the state of the blood; and on this principle chiefly he explains the
causes of diseases, which arise from the corruption of the humours
caused by the disturbed state of the body, bringing also a taint on
the blood;—and hence it must follow that the general health becomes
impaired, because the blood runs through the veins, diffusing through
the body its vital nutriment.
-----
LXV.—All these indeed become the instruments of disease, when the blood
is not supplied naturally from liquid and solid food, but gains bulk
from contraries in violation of the laws of nature. When any part of the
flesh therefore becomes separated by disease,[365] letting its first
principles remain, half the trouble is removed; for it admits of an easy
recovery. But when that which binds the flesh to the bones becomes
diseased, and the blood flowing from the fibres and sinews no longer
serves as food to the bones and a bond to the flesh, but, instead of
being fat, smooth and glutinous, becomes rough and salt from being
parched by bad diet; then, in consequence of suffering all this and
being separated from the bones, it is itself crumbled down[366] under
the flesh and sinews;—while the flesh falling at the same time from its
roots, leaves the sinews bare and saturated with salt; and thus,
entering once more the circulation of the blood, it increases the number
of the aforesaid maladies. And if these bodily ailments be severe, still
more afflicting and troublesome are those that precede them; when the
bone, owing to the density of the flesh, does not allow sufficient
respiration, but becoming heated through rottenness, falls into decay,
and will receive no nutriment, but on the contrary gradually crumble
away,—bone falling on flesh, and flesh again on blood, diseases being by
these means produced that are of a severer character than the former. By
far the worst of all maladies however is,—when the marrow becomes
diseased through some defect or excess;—because it is then productive of
the most vehement and fatal diseases, the whole nature of the body being
necessarily reversed and destroyed.
-----
Footnote 365:
ὑπὸ νόσων, omitted in the old editions, has been restored on the
authority of several of the best MSS.
Footnote 366:
Gr. καταψήχεται. The old editions have καταψύχεται. The same
observation applies to καταψηχόμενον, a few lines lower down.
-----
LXVI.—Again, as to the third species of diseases, we ought to consider
them as divided into three classes,—one produced by spirit, a second by
phlegm, and a third by bile. For when the lungs, the great guardian of
the breath, through being obstructed by defluxions,[367] will not allow
a free passage to the breath, which thus has no egress one way, and in
another enters in larger supplies than it ought, those parts which are
not cooled by it become putrid, while those that receive too much of it,
passing violently through the veins, distort them and become liquefied,
being shut out with the diaphragm in the middle of the body: and thus
ten thousand severe ailments hence arise, together with an abundance of
sweat. And frequently, when the flesh becomes separated within the body,
breath is produced, which not finding escape externally, causes the same
torments as the breath entering from without. The greatest pains that it
produces, however, are, when it surrounds and swells out the sinews and
neighbouring veins, stretching and distorting the tendons and sinews
continued from the back. Now these diseases, from their disposition to
extension, are termed tensions and contortions from behind,[368]—the
cure of which it is difficult to find; because fevers supervene and
generally bring them to a close. But the white phlegm, when it becomes
troublesome through the formation of air-bubbles, being shut out by
having breathing-vents outside the body, is of a milder kind, and
variegates the body with white spots, generating other diseases also of
a similar character. But when mingled with black bile, and dispersed
about the most divine circulations of the head, it acts as a disturbing
agent, though with less violence during sleep; but if it come to those
who are awake, it cannot be expelled without difficulty; and as this is
a disease of a sacred nature (or organ, _i. e._ the head), it is most
justly called sacred.[369] An acid and salt phlegm again is the source
of all those diseases which are produced by a defluxion of humours: and
because the places into which this phlegm flows are of infinite variety,
it produces all kinds of diseases. But whatever parts of the body are
said to be inflamed, all become so from being burnt and inflamed by
bile.
-----
Footnote 367:
Gr. ὑπὸ ῥευμάτων φράχθεις, obstructed by discharges of phlegm.
Footnote 368:
Gr. ἃ δὴ καὶ ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ τῆς ξυντονίας τοῦ παθήματος τὰ νοσήματα τέτανοί
τε καὶ ὁπισθότονοι προσεῤῥήθησαν. Galen describes the τέτανος as a
distension or convulsion extending equally over a considerable part of
the body;—but it appears to be a generic term also, of which
ὁπισθότονος and ἐμπροσθότονος are species,—one extending over the
hinder, and the other over the forepart of the body. Celsus explains
it as _nervorum rigor_;—and it seems, in fact, to be an involuntary
retraction, in a contrary direction to the muscles.
Footnote 369:
_Epilepsy_, however, was what the ancients usually termed the _sacred
disease_, because it was supposed to be sent by the anger of the gods,
and could only be assuaged or removed by incantations and other sacred
ceremonies.
-----
LXVII. Now this bile, whenever it makes an expiration, boils and sends
up all kinds of tumours, and when inwardly restrained, generates many
inflammatory diseases,—but the greatest of all, when mingled with pure
blood it disturbs the order of the fibres, which are scattered in the
blood for this purpose,—namely, of giving it certain measures of tenuity
and density, and that it may neither through heat (as being moist) flow
from the thin body, nor from its density become unadapted to motion, and
so experience difficulty in flowing back in the veins. The just
temperament, then, of these things is under the natural guardianship of
the fibres; because if any one collects them together in the blood when
dead and in a state of coldness, all the remaining blood becomes
diffused; and when let out quickly, it coagulates in consequence of the
cold surrounding it. The fibres possessing this influence over the
blood, the bile, which is of the nature of ancient blood, and again
changed into it from flesh by liquefaction, first gradually falls in a
warm, moist state, and becomes coagulated through the power of the
fibres; though when coagulated and violently extinguished, it causes a
tempest and tremor within. When it flows with still greater force, it
overcomes the fibres by its own proper heat, and by its ebullition
drives them into disorder;[370] and if it retains its prevalence to the
end, it penetrates into the marrow, and burning the bonds of the soul,
as if they were the cables of a ship, dissolves their union, and sets it
wholly free; but, on the other hand, when it flows less abundantly, and
the body on becoming liquefied opposes its passage, it then, on finding
itself overcome, either escapes through the whole body, or being driven
through the veins into the upper or lower belly, escapes from the body
like a fugitive from a seditious city, and introduces defluxions,
dysenteries, or gripings of the intestines, and all diseases of a
similar kind. When the body, therefore, is unusually diseased by an
excess of fire, it then labours under _continued_ burnings and fever;
but when through excess of air, under _quotidian_ fevers: under
_tertian_ through water, because water is less active than fire and air;
and under _quartan_, through excess of earth;—for earth, being of all of
them the least active, becomes purified in quadruple periods of time,
and hence introduces quartan fevers, which are with difficulty
dispelled.[371]
-----
Footnote 370:
Gr. εἰς ἀταξίαν ζέσασα διέσεισε. The old editions have διέσωσε, which
makes against the context.
Footnote 371:
Martin has taken great and successful pains to point out the
surprising sagacity of Plato’s conjectures on the causes of disease.
His notes on the subject are well worthy of on attentive perusal.
-----
LXVIII. In the above manner are the diseases of the body produced; but
the diseases of the soul, resulting from the habit of the body, are as
follows. We must admit that the disease of the soul is folly, or a
privation of intellect; and that there are two kinds of folly; the one
madness, the other ignorance. Whatever passion, therefore, a person
experiences that induces either of them, must be called a disease.
Excessive pleasures and pains, however, are what we should deem the
greatest diseases of the soul:—for when a man is over-elevated with joy
or unduly depressed with grief, and so hastens immoderately either to
retain the one or fly from the other, he can neither perceive nor hear
anything properly, but is agitated with fury, and very little capable of
exercising the reasoning power. But he who possesses a great quantity of
fluid-seed about the marrow, and is by nature like a tree over-laden
with fruit, such a one having many throes,[372] and also many pleasures
in his desires and their attendant offspring,—being maddened too during
most of his life by the greatest pleasures and pains, having a soul also
rendered morbid and unwise by the body, is wrongly deemed to be—not
diseased, but voluntarily bad.[373] In truth, however, sexual
intemperance generally becomes a disease of the soul, through a
particular state of fluidity and moisture caused by the tenuity of the
bones. And indeed it may almost be asserted, that all intemperance in
any kind of pleasure, and all disgraceful conduct, is not properly
blamed as the consequence of voluntary guilt. For _no one is voluntary
bad_: but he who is depraved becomes so through a certain bad habit of
body and an ill-governed education; and to every one these are inimical,
as they result in a certain evil. And again, in the matter of pain, the
soul suffers much depravity through the body. For where acid and salt
phlegm, and likewise bitter and bilious humours, wandering through the
body, get no external vent, but revolve inwardly, and mingle their
exhalations with the circulation of the soul; they in this case produce
within it an infinite variety of diseases, greater or less in
degree,—more or less in numbers. They are introduced, indeed, to three
seats of the soul; and according to the diversity of the place, each
begets every variety of difficulty and sorrow, rashness and timidity,
and still further of oblivion and indocility. Besides this also, the
vicious manners of cities, and discourses both private and public, often
contribute to increase this malady; nor are any branches of learning
taught in early life which tend to serve as remedies for such mighty
ills;—and thus all the vicious are vicious through two most involuntary
causes, which we should always ascribe rather to the planters than the
things planted, and to the trainers rather than those trained; but still
it should be our anxious endeavour, as far as we can, by education,
studies, and learning, to fly from vice, and acquire its
contrary—virtue. These particulars, however, require another mode of
argument.
-----
Footnote 372:
The old editions read ὀδύνας, not ὠδῖνας.
Footnote 373:
This is quite according to Plato’s well-known doctrine—_οὐδεὶς ἑκὼν
κακός_, as he explains it below, and in the Republ. ix, p. 589, c.;
Protagoras, p. 345, e.
-----
LXIX. Again, as respects the contrary of these, it is quite fit and
proper to explain concerning the cultivation both of the body and the
intellect, by what means each is to be healthfully preserved. For it is
more just to take account of good things, rather than of the evil. Now
every thing good is beautiful; and the beautiful is not without
measure:—an animal therefore destined to be such, must possess symmetry.
Of symmetries, however, we perceive and understand those which are
small; but as for the greatest and most important, of these we are quite
ignorant. For indeed, no symmetry or want of measure is of more
importance with respect to health and disease, virtue and vice, than
that of the soul towards the body:—and yet into these we make no
inquiry, nor do we reflect that when a weaker and inferior form is the
vehicle of a strong and every way mighty soul, and when on the contrary
these two pass into a state of compact union, then the animal is not
wholly beautiful; for it is without symmetry in the most important
points of symmetry, while an animal of opposite character is the fairest
of all sights that can be beheld. Just therefore, as a body has
immoderately long legs, or indeed any other superfluity of parts that
hinders its internal symmetry, it at once becomes base, in the
participation of labour suffers many afflictions and many convulsions,
and through suffering an aggregation of accidents, becomes the cause to
itself of innumerable ills. The same too must be understood concerning
that compound essence [of body and soul,] which we term an animal;—as,
for instance, when the soul in this compound is stronger than the body,
and greatly prevails over it, then [the soul,] agitating the whole of it
inwardly, fills it with diseases; and, by ardent application to learned
pursuits and investigations, causes it to waste away. Lastly, when the
soul employs itself in didactic pursuits and logomachies, publicly as
well as in private, through a certain ambitious strife, it then inflames
the body and dissolves its constitution, and by introducing
distillations of humours, deceives the great part of those who are
called physicians, inducing them to consider these effects as proceeding
from contrary causes.
Also, when a body that is large and superior to the soul in power is
joined with a small and weak intellect,—there being naturally two
classes of desires in man, one of aliment on account of the body, the
other of wisdom for the sake of our most divine part;—in this case, the
motions of the more powerful prevailing and enlarging what is their own,
but making the reflective part of the soul deaf, indocile, and
oblivious, thus induce ignorance—the greatest of all diseases. There is
one safety then for both—neither to move the soul without the body, nor
the body without the soul; in order that by mutually resisting each
other they may be equally balanced and in perfect health. The
mathematician then, or any one else who ardently devotes himself to any
intellectual pursuit, should at the same time engage the body in
gymnastic exercises;—and the man, again, who is careful in rightly
forming his body, should at the same time therewith unite the motions of
the soul in the exercises of music and all philosophy; if at least he
intends to be one, that may justly be called beautiful and at the same
time right good.
LXX.—In this very same manner we ought to attend even to the parts of
the body, that they may imitate the form of the whole:—for when the body
is inwardly burnt and cooled by the things that enter it, and again, is
moistened by things external, and suffers all the consequences of these
affections; then if any one gives up his body when quiescent to these
kinds of motions, he is overcome and perishes.[374] But if any one will
imitate what we called the tutor and nurse of the universe, and never
allow the body to be at rest, but perpetually move it and assist its
natural motions both within and without, by ever implanting in it
certain agitations, and also by moderate agitation bring into order
according to their mutual relations the wandering passions and parts of
the body, he will not, as we said in our former discourse about the
universe, place foe against foe, and suffer war and disease to be
produced in the body,—but, on the other hand, combining friend with
friend, will contrive to induce a state of sound health. Of all motions,
again, that is the best which takes place in itself from itself: for
this is particularly allied to intellect and the motion of the
universe,—that produced by another being inferior:—whereas that is the
worst of all motions, which, when the body is recumbent and at ease,
moves it by means of others and only partially. Hence, therefore, of all
modes of cleansing and giving consistence to the body, the best is that
effected by gymnastics,—the second is that caused by easy conveyance,
either in a ship or other suitable vehicle; but the third kind of
motion, however useful perhaps to one in extreme need, must on no
account be otherwise used by any one endued with intellect; and this is
that medical kind of motion produced by pharmaceutical purgation:—for
diseases, unless they are extremely dangerous, must not be irritated by
medicines. Indeed, every form of disease in some respect resembles the
nature of animals;—for the condition of the latter has allotted to it
stated periods of life, both as respects individuals and entire races,
and each animal separately of itself has its fated life apart from the
affection arising from necessity:—because the triangles, which from the
very first have power over each, are so composed, as to suffice only for
a certain time: beyond which period no animal can extend its life. The
same condition of things also takes place in the case of diseases; for
if any one destroys them by medicine before the fated time, he will only
produce great diseases out of small, and many out of few. On this
account we must discipline all such maladies by proper diet, according
as each has leisure, and not irritate by medicines an obstinate
complaint.—And thus much may suffice to have been said concerning the
common animal and its corporeal part,—how each governing himself and
governed by himself, may pursue a life regulated by reason.
-----
Footnote 374:
Gr. ὅταν μέν τις ἡσυχίαν ἄγον τὸ σῶμα παραδιδῷ ταῖς κινήσεσι, κρατηθὲν
διώλετο.
-----
LXXI.—That part, however, which is to have the government of the animal,
should, as far as possible, be better provided, and earlier also, with
the power of being the fairest and best in the art of ruling. To treat
accurately indeed of these matters, would require a separate work of
itself: but even pursuing it by way of mere by-work (ἐν παρέργῳ), in
accordance with what has preceded, we shall not be inconsistent, nor
fail in the end of our inquiries. We have often then before asserted
that there are three kinds of soul within us, in three parts of the
body, each having its peculiar motions; and so in the same way we must
now briefly affirm, that when any one of them is in a torpid state and
rests from its own proper motions, it must necessarily become extremely
weak, and only by constant exercise attains the highest degree of
strength:—we should be careful therefore that each may preserve its own
motions in symmetry with all the rest.
But with respect to the highest and most leading part of our soul, [_i.
e._ the human soul,] we should conceive as follows:—that the Deity
assigned this to each as a dæmon;—that, namely, which we say, and say
correctly too, resides at the summit of the body and raises us from
earth to our cognate place in heaven:—for we are plants, not of earth,
but heaven; and from the same source whence the soul first arose, a
divine nature, raising aloft our head and root, directs our whole
corporeal frame. In him, therefore, who has eagerly striven to satisfy
the cravings of desire and ambition, all the conceptions engendered in
his soul must necessarily be mortal; and he will necessarily, as much as
possible, become entirely mortal, omitting no effort to improve such a
nature. For one, however, who is sedulously employed in the acquisition
of knowledge and true wisdom, and is chiefly practised in this one
pursuit, it is altogether necessary, if he would touch on the truth,
that he should be endued with wisdom about immortal and divine concerns;
and as far as human nature is capable of immortality, he should leave no
part neglected; and thus, as he ever cultivates that which is divine,
and has a dæmon most excellently adorned residing within him, he will be
exceedingly happy. But the culture of all the parts is one only,—that of
assigning to each their proper nutriment and motion. But the motions
allied to the divine part of our nature, are the reflective energies and
circulations of the universe. These, then, each of us should pursue;
restoring the revolutions in our head that have been corrupted through
being employed on generation, by a diligent investigation of the
harmonies and circulations of the universe, with the view of
assimilating the reflective power to the object of reflection according
to its ancient nature;[375] for, by this assimilation, we shall obtain
the end of the best life proposed by the gods to men, both present and
future.
-----
Footnote 375:
Gr. τῷ κατανοουμένῳ τὸ κατανοοῦν ἐξομοιῶσαι κατὰ τὴν ἀρχαίαν φύσιν,
&c. The meaning is, that where the reflective powers are employed in
meditating on the universe, they are necessarily brought into harmony
with the only true objects of intellect,—and which existed indeed from
the first creation.
-----
LXXII.—And now the discussion which we announced at the beginning
concerning the universe, as far at least as concerns the generation of
man, is very nearly completed; for as to the rest of the animals, how
they were generated, we will only briefly describe them, except where
necessity bids us enlarge: for a person may think that he is thus more
in measure as concerns such an inquiry. On this subject, then, let us
speak as follows:—Of the men that were born, such as are timid, and have
passed through life unjustly, are, we suppose, changed into women in
their second generation. At that time, then, and for that reason, the
gods devised the love of copulation; constructing an animated substance,
and placing one in us men, another in the women,—forming each in the
following manner:—That passage for the drink, by which these liquids run
through the lungs under the reins into the bladder, and which sends them
forth as it receives them, by the pressure of the breath,[376]—this [the
gods] made to pass into the condensed marrow, from the head, along the
neck, and through the back-bone; and this we called seed in a former
part of this discourse:—and this [the marrow], in consequence of being
animated and endued with respiration, produces in the part where it
respires a lively desire of emission,—thus perfecting in us the love of
procreation. On this account, the nature of men, as respects their
private parts, becoming insubordinate and imperious, like an animal not
obedient to reason, tries through raging desire to gain absolute sway.
The same is the case with the wombs, and other connected parts of
women,—so called, as forming an animal desirous of procreating children.
This, when it remains without fruit long beyond its proper time, becomes
discontented and indignant; and wandering every way through the body, it
obstructs the passage of the breath, and throws women into extreme
difficulties, causing all varieties of diseases, till at length the
desire and love of both parties [_i. e._ the man and woman] cause the
emission of seed, like fruit from a tree; by which emission, they sow in
the womb, as in a field, animals invisible from their minute size, and
yet unformed, which, as they become larger, they nourish within; and
lastly, by bringing them to light, perfect the generation of animals.
-----
Footnote 376:
This very erroneous view has been before alluded to in a note on ch.
xlv. speaking of the lungs. Plato had evidently no knowledge of the
action of the kidneys.
-----
LXXIII. Such is the process of generation in women and every female.
Next succeeded the tribe of birds having feathers instead of hair, which
were fashioned from men without vice indeed, but light-minded and
curious about things on high, yet conceiving in their folly that the
strongest proofs of these things are received through the sight [_i. e._
the senses]. Again, the race of wild animals with feet was generated
from men, who made no use of philosophy, nor ever inquired into anything
that concerned the nature of the universe,—and this, because they no
longer employed the circulations in the head, but followed the guidance
of those parts of the soul that reside about the breast. Owing to these
pursuits, therefore, they fixed their fore-legs and head earthwards, as
suited their nature,—having also long and variously-shaped heads, where
the circulations of each were compressed by inactivity:—and hence their
race became quadruped and multiped, the Deity giving a greater number of
feet to those more than usually unwise, that they might be the more
drawn towards the earth. But as regards the most unwise of these, which
extend all their body along the ground, as if they had no longer any
need for feet, the gods formed them without feet to creep on the earth.
The fourth class is that living in the water, which was produced from
such men as were to the last degree unthinking and ignorant, and whom
those transformers of our nature did not think deserving of a pure
medium of respiration, because they possessed a soul rendered impure by
extreme transgression,—but drove them from the attenuated and pure
atmosphere into the turbid and deep breathing-medium of water:—and hence
arose the tribe of fishes and oysters, and all other aquatic animals,
which have received the most remote habitations, as a punishment of
their extreme ignorance. After this manner then, both formerly and now,
animals migrate into each other; experiencing their changes through
either the loss or acquisition of intellect and folly. We are now at
length to say, that our discourse about the universe has reached its
conclusion;—for not only containing, but full of mortal and immortal
animals, it has thus been formed _a visible animal embracing things
visible, a sensible god of the intelligible, the greatest, best, and
most perfect,—this one only-begotten_ UNIVERSE.
THE END OF THE TIMÆUS.
INTRODUCTION TO THE CRITIAS.
This Dialogue may be considered as an appendix to that preceding, and
the fulfilment of a promise which Critias had made in the opening of the
Timæus, to give some account of the primæval history of the Athenians,
whose early manners he supposed to correspond with those of the citizens
in Socrates’s ideal republic. The Athenians were a people so boastful of
their antiquity, as to arrogate to themselves the name of αὐτόχθονες;
and therefore any narrative or legend was likely to be agreeable to
their feelings, which assigned to them even a higher antiquity than they
really possessed. This may probably have been a leading motive with
Plato for constructing this amusing dialogue; more than half of which,
however, is taken up with the description of the Atlantic islands, its
kings and its inhabitants, who all existed in the time of the primitive
Athenians, though in Plato’s time they were extinct, and their islands
submerged in the sea. Many curious speculations have been put forth
respecting the geography of the Atlantic isles, and some have gone so
far as to conjecture them to have been a portion of the modern America.
The whole story, however, has so much the appearance of a myth, that it
seems useless to apply to it any of the laws of historical or
geographical criticism. The Dialogue, moreover, is so short as scarcely
to require any abbreviated account of its contents.
THE CRITIAS.
———●———
TIMÆUS, CRITIAS, SOCRATES, HERMOCRATES.
SECT. I.—TIM. I am just as pleased, Socrates, as one at rest after a
long journey, that I have now at length been happily released from my
protracted discourse![377] And now I implore that God [the universe,]
long, long ago created in fact, though only just recently in our
discussion, to establish in security what we have properly stated, but
as respects aught that we have even involuntarily stated that is not to
the purpose, to inflict on us a suitable punishment:—and the right
punishment for one out of tune is to make him play in tune.[378] In
order then, that for the future we may speak correctly respecting the
generation of the gods, we beseech him who is the best and most perfect
to give us a scientific knowledge of medicine; and having thus prayed,
we hand over to Critias, as we agreed, the succeeding discourse.
CRIT. Yes, Timæus, I receive it:—and as you acted at first, in
requesting indulgence as one about to speak on momentous matters, the
same also do I now entreat; and I think that I ought the more to obtain
it for what I am about to say. Yet I know full well that I am making a
very ambitious request, and of a more rustic kind than is proper; still
we must proceed. That what you have now said has not been well said, who
in his senses will pretend to say? I must try to show then, that what I
am about to say needs greater indulgence on account of its greater
difficulty:—for it is easier, Timæus, to speak and appear to speak
rightly about the gods to men, than about mortals to us [men]; inasmuch
as the inexperience and extraordinary ignorance of the hearers about
things of this nature, both furnish great facilities to one intending to
speak concerning them; but as respects the gods, we know how we are
situated. In order, however, that I may clearly show my meaning, follow
me in what I am about to say. What has been said by the whole of us was
necessarily only imitation and resemblance; and now, as regards the
representation by painters of divine and heavenly[379] objects, we see
with what facility or difficulty they contrive that they shall seem to
the spectators to be apt imitations; and we shall see also, that with
respect to earth, mountains, rivers, woods, and the whole of heaven, and
all therein, as well as what moves about it, we are satisfied if a
person is able to produce even a slight resemblance of them;—but beyond
this, as we have no accurate knowledge concerning such matters, we
neither examine nor find fault with the paintings, but use a mere
obscure and deceitful sketch of them. But when on the other hand any one
attempts to represent our bodies, we quickly perceive any omissions,
through our familiar apprehension of them, and become severe critics on
any one who does not perfectly exhibit their resemblances. The same also
we see, to be the case in arguments,—that we are content with even
slightly resembling statements about heavenly and divine things, while
we accurately examine things mortal and human. As regards then what we
are now immediately saying, if we cannot fully exhibit what is desired,
you ought to forgive us, because you must reflect that to form approved
resemblances of mortal things is no easy task, but very difficult. Now I
have said all this, Socrates, wishing to remind you of these things, and
asking not for less, but more indulgence respecting what is about to be
said. If then I seem to be fairly asking the favour, grant it with all
cheerfulness.
-----
Footnote 377:
Gr. ἐκ τῆς τοῦ λόγου διαπορείας.
Footnote 378:
Gr. δίκη δὲ ὀρθὴ τὸν πλημμελοῦντα ἐμμελῆ ποιεῖν.
Footnote 379:
Gr. οὐράνια, which Stallbaum has adopted on Cornarius’s conjecture,
Instead of the ἀνθρώπινα, the readings both of the editions and MSS.
-----
SECT. II.—SOCR. Why should we hesitate to grant it, Critias?—And
besides, we must grant this same indulgence to our third friend,
Hermocrates:—for it is evident, as we shall see presently, that when he
has to speak, he will make the same request as you. That he then may
furnish with a different commencement and not be compelled to say the
same, let him at once speak, as if this indulgence were granted him. I
must inform you, however, of the sense of the audience,[380] that the
former poet [Timæus] has obtained a wonderful deal of applause;—so that
you will need a vast quantity of indulgence if you intend to be an able
successor to him.
HERM. You are making the same announcement to me, Socrates, as to him.
Faint-hearted men, however, never yet erected a trophy, Critias:—so you
must proceed manfully to your discourse, and, invoking Pæan and the
Muses, exhibit and celebrate these primitive and best of citizens.
CRIT. Ah, friend Hermocrates, you are to speak afterwards[381] and have
another before you;—and so you are vastly courageous. What the nature of
the task is, however, the fact itself will speedily declare:—and we will
therefore be persuaded by your encouragement and exhortation, and in
addition to the gods that you have mentioned, will call on others
besides, and most of all on Memory: for all the most important points of
our discourse concern that goddess,—inasmuch as it is by suitably
calling to mind and relating the narratives of the [Egyptian] priests
brought hither by Solon, that I feel satisfied of our being thought by
this auditory to have fairly accomplished our part. This therefore we
must now do, and without further delay.
-----
Footnote 380:
Gr. τὴν τοῦ θεάτρου διάνοιαν. The term θέατρον is frequently used to
mean the _audience_ only. This was no doubt unknown to those critics,
who very unnecessarily conjectured from the use of this term, that
Critias had brought out scenic representations.
Footnote 381:
The old editions read ὑστεραίας; but Bekker and Stallbaum have
ὑστέρας, which is adopted here, as agreeing with τάξεως understood.
-----
SECT. III.—First of all then let us recollect, that it is about nine
thousand years, since war was proclaimed between those dwelling outside
the Pillars of Hercules and all those within them,—which war we must now
describe. Of the latter party, then, this city was the leader, and
conducted the whole war; and of the former the kings of the Atlantic
Island, which we said was once larger than Libya and Asia, but now, sunk
by earthquakes, a mass of impervious mud,[382] which hinders all those
sailing on the vast sea from effecting a passage hither;—and then our
story will, as it were, unfold [to your view] the many barbarous tribes,
and such of the Greek nations as then existed, as each may happen to
present itself:—but the wars of the then Athenians and their adversaries
we must first describe, as well as the power and government of each. Of
these [our own] people, however, we must be anxious first to speak.
-----
Footnote 382:
Gr. νῦν δὲ ὑπὸ σεισμῶν δῦσαν ἄπορον πηλόν. The old editions read
δυσανάπορον.
-----
SECT. IV.—To the gods was once locally allotted the whole earth, and
that, too, without contention;—for it would not be reasonable to suppose
that the gods are ignorant of what suits each of themselves, or that,
fully aware of what is rather the property of others, they would try to
get possession of it through strife. Obtaining then a country agreeable
to them by just allotment, they chose these regions for their
habitation; and, after settling, they like shepherds reared us, as their
possessions, flocks and herds,—not however by forcing body against body,
as shepherds in grazing drive their cattle with blows; but [they treated
us] as an easily-governed animal, and piloting, as it were, with
persuasions for a rudder, and working on the soul, they governed the
entire mortal by leading him according to their own mind. Different
gods, therefore, having received by lot different regions, proceeded to
cultivate (or set in order) those [that they had received;]—but
Hephæstus and Athéné having a common nature, not only related by
brotherhood from having the same father, but united also in philosophy
and love of art,[383] both received this one region as their common
allotment, as being naturally familiar with and well adapted to virtue
and wisdom; and after producing worthy men,—natives of the soil
(αὐτόχθονες), arranged to their mind the order of their government:—of
which men, indeed, the names are preserved; though their deeds have
become extinct through the death of those that handed them down and the
long lapse of time. The race, indeed, that survived, as it has been
before observed, were a set of unlettered mountaineers, who had heard
the names only of the ruling people in the land, and very little about
their deeds. The names they out of affection gave to their children,
though unacquainted with the virtues and laws of those before them,
except through certain dark rumours concerning them; and being
themselves and their children for many generations in want of
necessaries, with which, with all their wit, they were unprovided, they
bestowed their chief attention on this, to the neglect of events that
had taken place in times long gone by:—for mythology and the inquiry
into ancient affairs both visit states at a time of leisure, when they
see that the necessaries of life have been procured, but not before. In
this way, then, the names of the ancients have been preserved without
their deeds:—and I infer this to be the case, as Solon said, that the
priests in describing the war then waged gave those engaged in them many
names—such as Cecrops, Erectheus, Ericthonius, Erysichthon, and most of
the other names which are recorded prior to the time of Theseus;—and
they gave the names of women likewise. Besides, the figure and image of
the goddess shows that at that time both men and women entered in common
on the pursuits of war; as in compliance with that custom an armed
statue was dedicated to the goddess by the people of that day,—a proof
that all animals that consort together, females as well as males, have a
natural ability to pursue in common every suitable virtue.
-----
Footnote 383:
Gr. φιλοτεχνίᾳ. The old editions have φιλοτεκνίᾳ, which is an evident
error.
-----
SECT. V.—At that time, indeed, there dwelt in this country many other
tribes of citizens engaged in crafts and the culture of the soil; but
the warrior-tribe, being set apart from the first by divine men, lived
separately, having all the requisites for food and training, none of
them possessing anything in private, but considering all their
possessions as common, and not deigning to receive anything from the
rest of the citizens beyond a sufficiency of food, occupying themselves
moreover in all the pursuits that we yesterday described as those of
appointed state-guardians. Moreover, as respects this country of ours,
it was stated with probability and truth, that in early times it had
boundaries fixed at the Isthmus and on the side of the other continent
as far as the heights of Cithæron and Parnes, these boundaries coming
down, with Oropia on the right, and with the Asopus as a seaward limit
on the left:—and by the valour of this region it was said that the whole
earth was vanquished, because it was then able to support the numerous
army raised from the surrounding people. A great proof of their virtue
also was this,—that what now remains of it may vie with any other
whatever in the general productiveness of the soil, in the excellence of
its fruits, and in pastures suited to every kind of animals. Then,
however, it produced all these not only excellent in quality, but in the
greatest possible abundance. How then can we believe this;—and in what
way can it [the present country] rightly be termed a remnant of the
former land? The whole from the other continent [_i. e._ the western
side] extends seaward like a long promontory, and is wholly surrounded
by the steep-shored basin of the sea. As therefore many and extensive
deluges happened in that period of nine thousand years,—for so many
years have elapsed from that to the present time,—the earth, that was
loosened and fell from the heights at these times and under these
circumstances, did not, as elsewhere, aggregate to form any elevation
worth mentioning, but ever eddying round, at length vanished in the
deep; and the heights have been left, as is the case in small islands,
like the bones of a diseased body, compared with those of former times,
all the earth that was soft and fat being washed away, leaving only a
thin body of soil. At that time, however, being undisturbed, it
comprised mountains which are now only high hills; and the country, now
termed the plains of Phelleus, was then full of fat earth. The mountains
also abounded with woods, of which even now there are evident signs:—for
there are some of the mountains, which now furnish food for bees only,
though at no very distant period the houses were still standing, and in
good preservation, that were constructed of the timber cut from the
trees thereon, and suitable for the largest buildings. There were many
lofty trees also, raised by cultivation (ἥμερα), and an incalculable
amount of pasture for cattle. Prolific rain especially this land yearly
enjoyed, not, as now, losing it by its quick passage over the bare earth
down to the sea; but received an abundance of it, which it could keep
within itself to dispense over the clayey soil which holds it:—and thus
sending down the absorbed water from the heights into the hollows, it
diffused over all these regions abundant streams of springs and
rivers,—the truth of which is even now attested by the sacred remains
observable in the ancient fountains.[384]
-----
Footnote 384:
This is an extremely involved and most probably a corrupt passage. We
have nearly followed Stallbaum’s interpretation; though it was
absolutely necessary, in order to make it readable, to divide the
sentence into two clauses.
-----
SECT. VI.—Such was once the natural state of this country;—and it was
cultivated, as it was likely it would be, by real husbandmen, actually
practising their calling—lovers of honour and generous-minded, having a
most excellent soil, great abundance of water, and an admirably
attempered climate. It was at this time that the city was founded here
as follows:—The form of the Acropolis was not then, as it is now;—for in
later times [_lit._ now] a single rainy night softened it, and to a
great degree bared it of soil,—there being earthquakes at the same time,
and a fatal deluge—the third before that of Deucalion. Before this, in
primitive times, it extended in size to the Eridanus[385] and Ilissus,
and comprised the Pnyx, having the Lycabetus as its limit opposite the
Pnyx,—the whole being well covered with soil, except some level spots in
the higher part. Its outer parts down the flanks were inhabited by
craftsmen and husbandmen who tilled the neighbouring land,—the
warrior-classes living separately by themselves in the more elevated
parts around the temple of Athéné and Hephæstus, which they had formed,
as it were, into the garden of a single dwelling by encircling it with
one enclosure:—for on the northern side lived those, who erected public
buildings and common banquets for the winter, and whatever else was
suited to a common polity, buildings as well as temples being unadorned
with gold or silver; (for they never at any time used these metals, but
pursuing a middle course between extravagance and meanness, built neat
dwellings, in which both they and their children’s children grew old,
and then left them to others like themselves,)—while as regards the
south side, they removed thither their gardens, gymnasia, and common
rooms of entertainment, which they fixed here during the summer. There
was also one single fountain on the spot now occupied by the Acropolis,
since the extinction of which by earthquakes only a few small streams
have been left round it; although at that time it furnished to every
part an abundant supply of water, well attempered both for winter and
summer. Such was the way of life pursued by the guardians of their own
state, who also were leaders of the rest of the Greeks—such at least as
required them; and as to their number they paid special attention, that
they should always have the same number of men and women that might both
then and in future[386] be able to serve in war,—the whole being about
twenty thousand. These men then, being personally such as I have
described, and ever in some such way justly administering both their own
affairs and those of Greece, were the most noted and renowned of all the
people of that day over all Europe and Asia, both for the beauty of
their bodies and the general virtue of their souls.
-----
Footnote 385:
The Eridanus here mentioned was in Attica:—it is not the Eridanus
known by geographers in Ætolia and Acarnania.
Footnote 386:
Gr. ἤδη καὶ τὸ ἔτι. Cornarius here conjectured κατὰ τὰ ἔτη as the true
reading; but as the reading of the MSS. admits of translation, it
seems unnecessary.
-----
SECT. VII.—In the next place then, as respects the adversaries of these
men, what was their character, and how they first arose, we will now
impart this in common to you our friends, if at least we have not lost
the recollection of what we heard in our childhood. Yet before we
narrate this, we must briefly warn you not to be surprised at hearing
Hellenic names given to barbarians:—and the cause of this you shall now
hear. Solon, intending to make use of this story in his poetry, made an
investigation into the power of names, and found that the early
Egyptians who committed these facts to writing transferred these names
into their own language; and he again receiving the meaning of each
name, introduced it by writing into our language. These very writings,
indeed, were in the possession of my grandfather, and are now in mine,
having been made the subject of much study during my boyhood. If
therefore you hear such names as these in this narrative, be not
surprised;—for you know the reason. Of a long story, then, let such be
the introduction.
SECT. VIII.—As we remarked at first concerning the allotment of the
gods, that they distributed the whole earth here into larger and there
into smaller portions,[387] procuring for themselves temples and public
sacrifices,—so, Poseidon in particular, taking as his lot the Atlantic
island, begot children by a mortal woman, and settled in some such spot
of the island as we are about to describe. Towards the sea, but in the
centre of the whole island, was a plain, which is said to have been the
fairest of all plains, and distinguished for the excellence [of its
soil]. Near this plain, and at its centre, about fifty stadia distant,
was a mountain with short acclivities on every side. On this dwelt one
of those men who in primitive times sprang from the earth, by name
Evenor, who lived with a wife, Leucippe; and they had an only daughter,
Clito. Now when this girl arrived at marriageable age, and her mother
and father were dead, Poseidon becoming enamoured, made her his
mistress, and circularly enclosed the hill on which she dwelt, forming
the sea and land into alternate zones, greater and less,—turning, as it
were, two out of land and three out of sea, from the centre of the
island, all equally distant, so as to be inaccessible to men:—for at
that time ships and navigation were not known. And he himself, with his
divine power, agreeably adorned the centre of the island, causing two
fountains of water to shoot upwards from beneath the earth, one cold and
the other hot, and making every variety of food to spring abundantly
from the earth. He also begat and brought up five twin-male children;
and after distributing all the Atlantic island into ten parts, he
bestowed on the first-born of the eldest pair his mother’s dwelling and
the allotment about it,—this being the largest and best; and he
appointed him king of all the rest, making the others governors, and
giving to each the dominion over many people and an extensive territory.
He likewise gave all of them names,—to the eldest, who was the king, the
name of _Atlas_, from whom, as the first sovereign, both the island and
sea were termed _Atlantic_;—and to the twin born after him, who had
received for his share the extreme parts of the island towards the
Pillars of Hercules, as far as the region which now in that country is
called _Gadeirica_, he gave the titular name, which we Greeks call
Eumelus, but which the people of that country term _Gadeirus_. Of the
second-born twins he called the first Ampheres, the second, Euæmon;—of
the third, he called the first-born, Musæus, and the second,
Autochthon;—of the fourth, the first, Elasippus, and the younger,
Mestor;—and among the fifth, to the former was given the name Azaes, and
to the latter, Diaprepes.
-----
Footnote 387:
Gr. λήξεις. The old editions and several MSS. have μίξεις.
-----
SECT. IX.—All these, then, and their descendants, dwelt for many
generations, as rulers in the sea of islands, and as we before said, yet
further extended their empire to all the country as far as Egypt and
Tyrrhenia. By far the most distinguished, however, was the race of
Atlas; and among these the oldest king in succession always handed down
the power to his eldest son, all of them successively possessing wealth
in such abundance as never was before found among regal dynasties, nor
will easily be found hereafter; and all things were provided for them,
which in a city, or elsewhere, are worth such provision. Many
possessions, indeed, accrued to them through their power from foreign
countries; but the greatest part of what they stood in need was provided
for them by the island itself,—first, such ores as are dug out of mines
in a solid [_i. e._ virgin] state, or require smelting;—and especially
that metal _orichalcum_, which is now known only by name, but formerly
of high celebrity, was dug out of the earth in many parts of the island,
being considered the most valuable of all the metals then known, except
gold;—and it produced an abundance of wood for builders, and furnished
food also for tame and wild animals. Moreover, there were comprised
within it vast numbers of elephants:—for there were abundant means of
support for all animals that feed in marshes and lakes, on mountains and
plains, and so likewise for this animal, which by nature is the largest
and most voracious of all. Besides these, whatever odorous plants the
earth now bears, whether roots or grass, or woods or distilling gums, or
flowers or fruits,—these it bore and produced them to perfection. And
yet, further, it bore cultivated fruits, and dry edible fruits, such as
we use for food;—all these kinds of food we call vegetables,—together
with all that trees bear, as drinks, meats, and ointments; and those
also, whose fruits, such as acorns, being used in sport and pleasure,
are with difficulty hoarded up, together with certain dainty fruits for
dessert that might provoke the satiated palate, or please the sick;—all
these that once existing and warmly-acclimated island bore, sacred,
beautiful, wonderful, and infinite in quantity. Receiving all these,
then, from the earth, the inhabitants employed themselves also in
erecting temples, royal habitations, ports and docks over the whole
region, disposing them in the following manner:—
SECT. X.—First of all, those residing about that ancient metropolis
bridged over those zones of the sea [before mentioned], making a passage
both outwards and to the royal palace. And the palace they constructed
immediately from the first in this habitation of the god and their
ancestors; and each in turn receiving it from his predecessor, and
further embellishing the ornamental parts, continually surpassed the one
before him, until they made the building quite admirable to the sight
for the size and beauty of its works. They dug a trench indeed,
beginning from the sea, three plethra broad, a hundred feet deep, and
fifty stadia in length, as far as the outermost zone, and thus made a
passage thither from the sea, as into a harbour, by enlarging its mouth
sufficiently to admit the largest vessels. Besides this, they separated
by bridges those zones of land which separated those of the sea, so that
with one trireme a passage could be effected from one zone to another,
covering the zones above, so as to allow a water-way beneath them;—for
the banks of the zones of earth rose to a height considerably above the
sea. And the greatest of these zones into which the sea penetrated was
three stadia in breadth, and the zone of land next in order equal to the
first;—of the second pair, the watery circle was two stadia in breadth,
and that of earth again, equal to the preceding one of water; lastly,
the zone running round the centre of the island had the breadth only of
one stadium, and the island in which the king’s palace stood had a
diameter of five stadia. This island, as well as the zones, and the
bridge (which was a plethrum in breadth), they enclosed on both sides
with a stone wall, raising towers and gates at intervals on the bridges
at the places where the sea passes through them [_i. e._ the zones]. The
stone for it they quarried beneath the circuit of the island, both in
the centre and also within and without the zones, one kind of it white,
a second black, and a third red; and by thus quarrying they at the same
time made cavities that served for two docks, having likewise a covering
of rock. Of the buildings, some were of simple structure;—others they
put together in a variegated style, by mixing the different kinds of
stone by way of amusement, thus realizing a pleasure suitable to their
natures:—and they surrounded with brass the whole circuit of the wall
round the extreme outer zone, applying it like plaster; that of the next
inside they covered with melted tin, and the wall round the citadel
itself with orichalcum that has a fiery resplendence.
SECT. XI.—Next, the royal palace within the citadel was constructed as
follows:—In its centre was planted a temple, difficult of access, sacred
to Clito and Poseidon, surrounded with an enclosure of gold;—and it was
that, in which they first generated and produced the race of the ten
kings; where also, making annual collections from all the ten
allotments, they celebrated seasonable sacrifices to each. The temple of
Poseidon himself was a stadium in length, three plethra in breadth, and
of a height to correspond, having something of a barbaric appearance.
All the outside of the temple, except the pinnacles, they lined with
silver, but the pinnacles with gold:—and as to the interior, the roof
was formed wholly of ivory variegated with gold and orichalcum; and as
to all the parts—the walls, pillars, and pavements, they lined them with
orichalcum. They also placed in it golden statues, the god himself
[being represented] as standing on a chariot holding the reins of six
winged horses, of such size as to touch the roof with his head, and
round him a hundred nereids on dolphins;—for those of that day thought
that such was their number; and it contained also many other statues
dedicated to private individuals. Round the outside of the temple
likewise golden images were placed of all the men and women that were
descended from the ten kings, and many other large statues both of kings
and private people, both from the city itself, and the foreign countries
over which they had dominion. There was an altar, too, of corresponding
size and workmanship with these ornaments; and the excellence of the
palace was proportioned to the magnitude of the government and also to
the order observed in the sacred ceremonies.
SECT. XII.—Next, they used fountains both from the cold and hot springs,
of which there was a great abundance, either of which was wonderfully
well adapted for use from its sweetness and excellence;[388] and round
them they fixed their habitations and excellently-watered plantations,
together with their water-tanks, some open to the heaven, but others for
winter use roofed over for warm baths, the kings’ baths and those of
private persons being apart, with separate baths for women, and others
for horses and other draught-cattle, providing each with the requisite
means of cleanliness. The stream hence flowing they led to the grove of
Poseidon, where there were all varieties of trees, reaching a wonderful
height, owing to the excellence of the soil, and then conducted it by
channels over the bridges to the external circles. And here, indeed,
there had been constructed numerous temples dedicated to many different
gods, and many gardens and gymnasia, one for men, and others separately
for horses in either island of the zones;—and for the latter, in
particular, there was a race-course plotted out in the centre of the
largest island, a stadium in breadth, and extending in length through
the whole circumference for a contest of speed between the horses. And
around it on all sides were barracks for the household troops
corresponding with their number;—to the more faithful of whom were
assigned quarters in the smaller zone closer to the citadel, while those
who excelled all in loyal faithfulness had dwellings given them inside
the citadel near the kings themselves. The docks likewise were filled
with triremes and the fittings requisite for triremes; and they were all
satisfactorily provided. Such were the arrangements for the provision of
the kings’ dwelling:—but on crossing the three exterior harbours, one
was met by a wall which went completely round, beginning from the sea,
everywhere fifty stadia distant from the greatest [or outermost] zone
and harbour, and enclosed in one the entrance to the canal and the
entrance to the sea. The whole of this part indeed was covered with many
and densely-crowded dwellings;—and the canal and largest harbour were
full of vessels and merchants coming from all parts, causing from their
multitude all kinds of shouting, tumult, and din all day long and the
night through.
-----
Footnote 388:
Gr. ταῖς δὲ δὴ κρήναις, τῇ τοῦ ψυχροῦ καὶ τῇ τοῦ θερμοῦ νάματος,
πλῆθος μὲν ἄφθονον ἐχούσαις, ἡδονῇ δὲ καὶ ἀρετῇ τῶν ὑδάτων πρὸς
ἑκατέρου τὴν χρῆσιν θαυμαστοῦ πεφυκότος, ἐχρῶντο, &c. This is a very
difficult and involved sentence; but we have given its meaning as
nearly as language will allow. Both Ast and Stallbaum consider the
text imperfect from the dropping out of two or more words.
-----
SECT. XIII.—We have now related from memory a description of the city
and its ancient habitations; and now we must try to describe the nature
of the rest of the country, and its mode of employment. First, then, the
whole region was said to be exceedingly lofty and precipitous towards
the sea, and the plain about the city, which encircles it, is itself
surrounded by mountains sloping down to the sea, being level and smooth,
all much extended, three thousand stadia in one direction, and the
central part from the sea above two thousand. And this district of the
whole island was turned towards the south, in an opposite direction from
the north. The mountains around it, too, were at that time celebrated,
as exceeding in number, size, and beauty all those of the present
time,—having in them many hamlets enriched with villages, as well as
rivers, lakes, and marshes, furnishing ample supplies of food for all
cattle both tame and wild, with timber of various descriptions, and in
abundant quantity for every individual purpose. The plain then being
thus by nature, was improved as follows by many kings in a long course
of time. It was of square shape, mostly straight and oblong; and where
it ended, they bounded it by a trench dug round it,—the depth, breadth,
and length of which, for a work of man’s making, besides the other
connected undertakings, we can scarcely believe, though still we must
report what we heard. It was excavated to the depth of a plethrum, and
the breadth was a stadium in every part,—the whole excavation made round
the plain being ten thousand stadia in length. This, receiving the
streams coming down from the mountains, and conducted all round the
plain, approached the city in some parts, and in this way was allowed to
flow out to the sea. From above, likewise, straight canals were cut
about a hundred feet broad along the plain, back into the ditch near the
sea, distant from one another about one hundred stadia:—and it was by
this that they brought down the timber from the mountains to the city,
and carried on the rest of their shipping-traffic, cutting transverse
canals of communication into each other, and towards the city. Their
harvest, also, they gathered twice in the year; in winter availing
themselves of the rains, and in summer introducing on the land the
streams from the trenches.
SECT. XIV.—As to the quantity [of land,] it was ordered, that of the men
on the plain fit for service, each individual leader should have his
allotment, each allotment amounting in extent to a hundred stadia, and
the total of the lots being sixty thousand;—and of those from the
mountains and the rest of the country there was said to be an
incalculable number of men, to all of whom, according to their dwellings
and villages, were assigned certain lots by their respective leaders. To
each leader, likewise, the task was appointed of furnishing for war the
sixth portion of a war-chariot (to make up a total of ten thousand), two
riding horses, and a two-horse car without a driver’s seat, having a
mounted charioteer to direct the horses,[389] with another to dismount
and fight at the side,—also two heavy-armed soldiers, two archers, two
slingers, three each of light-armed men, stone-shooters and javelin-men,
with four sailors to make up a complement of one thousand two hundred
ships. Thus were the military affairs of this city arranged. And as
respects the nine others, there were different other arrangements, which
it would be tedious to narrate.
-----
Footnote 389:
Gr. ἔτι δὲ ξυνωρίδα χωρὶς δίφρου καταβάτην τε σμικρασπίδα καὶ τὸν
ἀμφοῖν μετ’ ἐπιβάτην τοῖν ἵπποιν ἡνίοχον ἔχουσαν. The old editions
read καταβάτας.
-----
SECT. XV.—And as respects official situations and honours, the following
were the arrangements made from the commencement:—Of the ten kings, each
individually in his own district and over his own city ruled supreme
over the people and the laws, constraining and punishing whomever he
pleased:—and the government and commonwealth in each was regulated by
the injunctions of Poseidon, as the law handed them down; and
inscriptions were made by the first [kings] on a column of orichalcum,
which was deposited in the centre of the island in the temple of
Poseidon, where they assembled every fifth year, (which they afterwards
changed to every sixth year), taking an equal part both for the entire
state and its supernumeraries; and thus collected they consulted
concerning the common weal, and inquired what transgressions each had
committed, judging them accordingly. And when they were about to judge,
they previously gave each other pledges, according to the following
fashion:—As there were bulls grazing at liberty in the temple of
Poseidon, ten men only of the whole number, after invoking the god to
receive their sacrifice propitiously, went out to hunt swordless, with
staves and chains, and whichever of the bulls they took, they brought it
to the column and slaughtered it at its head under the inscriptions:—and
on the column, besides the laws, there was an oath written, invoking
curses on the disobedient. When, therefore, in compliance with their
laws, they sacrificed and burnt all the limbs of the bull, they filled a
goblet with clots of blood, and threw the rest into the fire, by way of
purifying the column:—and after this, dipping out of the goblet with
golden cups, they poured libations down on the fire, and swore to do
justice according to the laws on the column, to punish any one who had
previously transgressed them, and besides that, never afterwards
willingly to transgress the inscribed laws, nor ever to rule or obey any
ruler governing otherwise than according to his father’s laws. Then
after invoking these curses on themselves and their descendants, and
after drinking and depositing the cup in the temple of the God, and
abiding a necessary time at supper, as soon as it was dark, and the fire
round the sacrifice had been cooled, all of them dressed themselves in
beautiful dark-blue robes, and sitting on the ground near the embers of
the sacrifice on which they had sworn, extinguished during the night all
the fire about the temple, and then mutually judged each other as
respects any accusations of transgressing the laws;—and after their acts
of judgment were over, when day came, they inscribed their decisions on
a golden tablet and deposited them as memorials, together with their
dresses. There were many other individual laws also respecting the
privileges of the kings,—the chief being, that they should never wage
war on each other, and that all should lend their aid, in case that any
one in any of their cities should try to destroy the royal
race,—consulting in common, as their ancestors did before them, as to
the right course both in war and other concerns, and assigning the
empire to the Atlantic race. They did not allow the king, however, any
authority to put to death any of his kinsmen, unless approved of by more
than half of the ten.
SECT. XVI.—Such then, and so great being the power at that time in those
places, the Deity transferred it to these regions, as report goes, on
the following pretexts:—For many generations, as long as the natural
power of the god sufficed them, they remained obedient to the laws and
kindly affected towards the divine nature to which they were allied:—for
they possessed true and altogether lofty ideas, and practised mildness
united with wisdom, in reference to the casual occurrences of life and
towards each other. Hence, looking above everything except virtue, they
considered things present as of small importance, and contentedly bore,
as a burden, the mass of gold and other property; nor were they deceived
by the intoxication of luxury, or rendered intemperate through
wealth;—but on the other hand being sober, they acutely perceived that
all these things are increased through common friendship mingled with
virtue, and that by too anxiously pursuing and honouring them, these
goods themselves are corrupted, and with them [friendship] itself
likewise perishes. To such a mode of reasoning then, and the abiding of
such a nature, was it owing that they made all the progress that we
before described. But when the divine portion within them became extinct
through much and frequent admixture of the mortal nature, and the
manners of men began to hold sway, then, through inability to bear
present events, they began to exhibit unbecoming conduct and to the
intelligent beholder appeared base, destroying the fairest among their
most valuable possessions,—though all the while held by those who were
unable to see a true life of happiness based on truth, to be in the
highest degree worthy and blessed, though filled with avarice and unjust
power. Zeus, however, the god of gods, who rules according to the laws,
and is able to see into such things, perceiving an honourable race in a
condition of wretchedness, and wishing to inflict punishment on them,
that they might become more diligent in the practice of temperance,
collected all the gods into their own most ancient habitation, which
indeed, being situated in the centre of the whole world, beholds all
things that have had a share in generation:—and having assembled them,
he said, * * * * * * * *
THE END OF THE CRITIAS.
APPENDIX.
(_See page 235._)
The difficulty of the passage here alluded to, which has baffled the
efforts of every critic, from Proclus and Iamblichus downwards, gave
rise in ancient times to the trite proverb—_Numeris Platonicis nihil
obscurius_.—nor has the ingenuity of modern speculators thrown much
light on its obscurity. Baroccius, however, a Venetian nobleman, in
1566, gave to the world with more pretence than merit, a wordy
dissertation professing to solve this knotty problem. The words of Plato
are—ἔστι δὲ θείῳ μὲν γεννητῷ περίοδος, ἣν ἀριθμὸς περιλαμβάνει τέλειος,
ἀνθρωπείῳ δὲ ἐν ᾧ πρώτῳ αὐξήσεις δυνάμεναί τε καὶ δυναστευόμεναι τρεῖς
ἀποστάσεις, τέτταρας δὲ ὅρους λαβοῦσαι ὁμοιούντων τε καὶ ἀνομοιούντων
καὶ αὐξόντων καὶ φθινόντων, πάντα προσήγορα καὶ ῥητὰ πρὸς ἄλληλα
ἀπέφηναν· ὧν ἐπίτριτος πυθμὴν πεμπάδι συζυγεὶς δύο ἁρμονίας παρέχεται
τρὶς αὐξηθείς, τὴν μὲν ἴσην ἰσάκις, ἑκατὸν τοσαυτάκις, τὴν δὲ ἰσομήκη
μὲν, τῇ προμήκει δέ, ἑκατὸν μὲν ἀριθμῶν ἀπὸ διαμέτρων ῥητῶν πεμπάδος
δεομένων ἑνὸς ἑκάστων, ἀῤῥητῶν δὲ δυεῖν, ἑκατὸν δὲ κύβων τριάδος· ξύμπας
δὲ οὗτος, ἀριθμὸς γεωμετρικός, τοιούτου κύριος, ἀμεινόνων τε καὶ
χειρόνων γενέσεων, &c. With reference to the former part, he says that
Plato is alluding to _ratios of greater or less inequality_,—to which
respectively belong multiples and submultiples, superparticulars and
subsuperparticulars, &c., following the language of the schoolmen. Then
again, as to the term ἐπίτριτος πυθμήν which had been variously rendered
by the Latin _radix_, _propago_, _fundus_, and _solidum_, he conceives
it to be a root or prime number, and fixes on the number _seven_ as its
representative (4 + 3 = 7). Further, by the two harmonics, he supposes
Plato to mean the connexion between the _square_ and the _cube_ of
TWELVE, which is itself made up of seven and five (ἐπίτριτος πυθμὴν
πεμπάδι συζυγείς),—_i. e._ 144 and 1728,—_twelve_ being a number often
mentioned by Plato, as not only _perfect_, but the type of
perfection,—the dodecahedron having given origin to the sphere, and
being the type of the world,—as he has expressly stated in the Timæus.
If this be granted, the geometric or mathematical—perfect or
fatal—number may be considered to be the cube of 12 = 1728. This
opinion, however, is strongly impugned by Schneider, who conceives it to
be 216, _i. e._ ∛6,—which is made up of three other cubes; 27, 64, and
125, _i. e._ ∛3, ∛4, and ∛5. Others again have considered the root to be
9,—the cube-root of 729. So much for the ἐπίτριτος πυθμήν.
As to the elucidation, however, of the principal difficulties herein
involved, we are still as far afield as ever;—nor has the united
learning of Schneider, Trendelenburg, Böckh, Schleiermacher, or Cousin,
removed any obstacle to their successful solution. To state their
theories at length would take up much space without any adequate
benefit;—and this must be our apology for substituting so short a notice
for what we intended to be a lengthened statement. Many details however
on this _vexata quæstio_ may be gathered by the patient reader from
Schneider’s preface to vol. iii. of his edition of Plato,—Cousin’s note
in his translation _ad locum_,—and his translation of Proclus, with
notes _ad locum_. It must be confessed, however, that the question still
remains open and unsolved—still, _dignus vindice nodus_.
THE END.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note
The Greek word καὶ (“and”) was twice abbreviated to a single ligature
character (ϗ̀ ) (pp. xvii, xviii).
“Heraclitus” is twice spelled “Heracl_e_itus” (p. ii) / “Heracl_ei_tean”
(p. vi).
At xiii.24, a quotation from Constantin Ritter has no closing quotation
mark. This has been added after the first sentence, where the following
spacing seems suspiciously large, indicating a possible dropped ending
mark.
At 4.41, the phrase “_s. lubenter_ verò...” does not agree with the
version available at the Perseus repository “_ego_ vero istinc sicut a
domino agresti ac furioso profugi.” A note there offers “_libenter_
vero...” as an alternative.
At 37.22, the editor translates “ἐπ’ αὐτοφώρῳ λαβεῖν” as “to catch in
the _fact_”. This is usually rendered as _act_, though either might be
construed as correct.
173.37: The passage given at footnote 186 on p. 173 seems to confuse
feminine and neuter forms. This is the orininal passage: προβάλλοντά τε
ἀλλήλοις ἀεί, διατριβὴν τῆς πεττείας πολὺ _χαριεστέραν_ πρεσβυτῶν
διατρίβοντα, φιλονικεῖν ἐν _ταῖς_ τούτων ἀξίαισι σχολαῖς.
304.35: The Myth of Er is recounted here, however, the printer included
two characters (given as X here), which are blotted by hand. These were
removed, and a comma has been added, viz., “a brave man, Er[XX], the son
of Armenius....”
431.3: On p. 431 of the brief Appendix, the editor includes a
mathematical discussion which erroneous prints the cube of 3, 4, 5, and
6 as the cube _root_ of each: ∛3 ∛4, ∛5, ∛6. They should have appeared
as 3^3, 4^3, 5^3 and 6^3.
Errors deemed most likely to be the typesetter’s have been corrected,
and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the
original.
vii.1 The most obvious arrangemen[t] Restored.
ix.21 who taught entirely πρ[ο/ὸ]ς δόξαν Replaced.
xi.36 τὸ αὐτὸ καθ[’] αὑτὸ Added.
xxi.17 ἐν αὑτῷ [μήδε/μηδὲ] πολυπραγμονεῖν Replaced.
xxi.8 (φρ[ονή/όνη]σις) Replaced.
xxi.31 ἡ διαλεκτικ[η/ή] Replaced.
xxi.3 ἐπίκουρον [ὄ/ὂ]ν τῷ λογιστικῷ φύσει Replaced.
xvi.26 are ever inferior to it.[’/”] Replaced.
xxiii.1 παρ[α/ά]δειγμα Replaced.
xxv.12 (ἀριστοκρ[άτι/ατί]α) Replaced.
xxv.39 liberality and magnanimity[.] Added.
10.39 ὃς ἀνθρώπους ἐκέκαστο Κλεπτοσύνῃ θ’, ὅρκ[ῴ/ῳ] Replaced.
22.37 διανοε[ι/ῖ] καταχεῖν μου τ[ω/ῶ]ν Replaced.
29.39 The term γραῶν [υ/ὕ]θλος or μῦθος Replaced.
42.34 Op. et Di. [ï/v]. 231 Replaced.
43.33 The ἀγ[υ/ύ]ρται were a species Replaced.
45.38 θεοὺς οὐδαμ[ω/ῶ]ς νομίζου Replaced.
45.40 ἀρίστων ε[ἷ/ἶ]ναι ποιητῶν Replaced.
45.41 καὶ ἀλλων ἄλλων πολλακισμυρίων Replaced.
45.43 πειρώμεθα[.] Added.
47.38 ὥς γ[’] ἐμο[ι/ὶ] δοκεῖ Added /
Replaced.
63.41 Far from it[.] Added.
64.36 εἶναι ἐν [ᾦ/ᾧ] δεῖ Replaced.
79.1 the husbandman is[ ]only a husbandman Inserted.
81.31 καὶ προ[ς/σ]ῳδίας Replaced.
90.38 Πλουτοίη δ[ε/ὲ] Μίδεω Replaced.
93.9 What are you speaking about? said he[,/.] Replaced.
163.34 what we are to say to him[./,]—are we Replaced.
167.42 as it has form, mode, and reason of Probable.
existence,[)]
168.34 νυκτ[έρι/ερί]δα ὁ εὐνοῦχος Replaced.
169.33 ἴσχουσι πλαν[ω/ώ]μενοι Replaced.
171.40 who has moderate desires[./,] Replaced.
172.38 ἄρ’ ἂν ο[ἶ/ἷ]ός τ’ εἴη ἐπιστήμης Replaced.
178.43 τοῦτο οὔτε ξυγγένεια ο[ἴ/ἵ]α τε ἐμποιεῖν Replaced.
180.11 call this wisdom and[,] apply himself Removed.
183.39 ὑπὸ δ[ε/ὲ] τῶν τεχνῶν Replaced.
183.40 καὶ ἀποτεθρυμμένοι[ διὰ] τὰς βαναυσίας Restored.
τυγχάνουσιν.
187.40 an elegant phrase equivalent to χα[ιρεῖ/ίρει]ν Replaced.
187.41 [ἑ/ἐ]ώντων Replaced.
206.38 τέχνας μ[ε/ὲ]ν μυρίας Replaced.
219.35 τῶν δ[ε/ὲ] ἀληθινῶν πολὺ Replaced.
231.31 it is now clear, p[a/e]rhaps, Replaced.
240.31 the amount of their property[./,] Replaced.
245.4 must necessarily be neglected[.] Added.
246.40 ἐν μάχῃ πλουσίῳ ἐσ[τ/κ]ιατροφήκοτι Replaced.
266.8 a[t/s] the democratic man Replaced.
266.41 πρόσωπον ἡδὺ τ[ἂ/ἀ]ν δόμοισι Replaced.
266.42 λυπηρά[τίς·/· τίς] γὰρ Misplaced
colon.
276.37 who are filling w[i]th unreal Inserted.
293.36 is rather this last[.] Added.
295.39 in our private misfortu[u/n]es Inverted.
330.40 ὁ λόγος ἡμῖν ο[ὖ/ὗ]τος Replaced.
336.30 and inter[e]fere with them unseasonably Removed.
322.35 it was said by the Syracusans to[ be] the best Probably.
governed
323.39 forth to the god[o/d]ess Replaced.
329.41 _[E/É]tudes sur le Timée_ Replaced.
344.41 κατ’ [ἔκεινα/ἐκεῖνα] γέγονε. Replaced.
356.35 φύσει[πάντι/παντὶ] κεῖται. Replaced.
356.36 [ε/ἐ]κμαγεῖον Replaced.
356.38 τρίτας [ουσίας/οὐσίας] Replaced.
357.35a πῦρ μ[ἐ/ὲ]ν ἑκάστοτε Replaced.
357.35b ὸ πεπυρωμἐνον μ[ἐ/έ]ρος Replaced.
362.39 [ὅ/ὄ]γκου μέγα ἀποτελέσειεν Replaced.
381.33 The old editions have [ἄ/ἅ]μα Replaced.
386.36 κεφ[άλη/αλὴ] Replaced.
391.39 ἕνεκ[ά/α], φησ[ι/ί] Replaced.
415.35 τὴν τοῦ θεάτρου δι[ανοί/άνοι]ν Replaced.
424.42 πρὸς [ἐ/ἑ]κατέρου τὴν χρῆσιν Replaced.