Part 2 / Book 10 — THE TIMÆUS.

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SOCRATES, TIMÆUS, CRITIAS, HERMOCRATES.

I.—Soc. One, two, three:—but where, dear Timæus, is that fourth of us who yesterday were your guests, but are entertainers now?

Tim. Some illness has befallen him, Socrates; for he would not willingly have missed such a meeting as the present.

Soc. It is your business, then, of yourself, and [that of] these present, to fill up the place of the absent guest.

Tim. Quite so, Socrates; and, as far as we can, we will not fail to do so: for it would be unjust for the rest of us, whom you yesterday so handsomely entertained, not to treat you with readiness in return.

Soc. Do you recollect, then, the magnitude and nature of the things on which I charged you to speak?

Tim. Some, indeed, we do recollect; but what we do not, you, who were present, can recal to our memory: or rather, if it be not too much trouble, once more briefly run over the whole from the beginning, that it may be the more firmly established in our minds.

Soc. Be it so. The sum of yesterday’s discussion respecting a republic was, what form I thought the best, and of what sort of men it should be composed.

Tim. And indeed, Socrates, all that you said was quite according to our mind.

Soc. Did we not in the first place separate the class of husbandmen, and ever so many other artificers, from that of those who fight in defence of the state?

Tim. Yes.

320Soc. And when we had assigned to every one that single employment which was suited to his own nature, and had prescribed to each his particular art, we bade the military caste confine themselves to the simple duty of protecting the state from the hostile incursions both of internal and external foes;—mildly to administer justice to their subjects, as being naturally friends, but fiercely to combat with such foes as might fall in their way.

Tim. Quite so, of course.

Soc. We asserted, I think, that the souls of the guardians should be naturally high-spirited, and at the same time remarkably philosophic, so as to enable them towards either friends or foes respectively to be gentle or severe.

Tim. You did so.

Soc. But what about their training? Did we not say that they ought to be instructed in gymnastic exercises, music, and other suitable branches of science?

Tim. Yes.

Soc. With respect at least to those thus trained, it was somehow said, that they should regard neither gold nor silver nor any such property, as their own private possession, but rather, like subordinates, should receive the wages of their guardianship from those whom they defend and preserve, their recompense being no more than sufficient for temperate men, and that they should spend their income in common, with a view only to mutual subsistence, bestowing their attention wholly on virtue, in preference to every other pursuit.

Tim. This too was so stated.

II.--Soc. Respecting women, too, we asserted that their nature should be aptly conformed to resemble that of men, and that they should all engage in common with them, both in the duties of war and the other employments of life.

Tim. This too you alleged.

Soc. But what about the procreation of children? This perhaps you easily remember, on account of the novelty of the proposal; for we ordered that marriage-unions and children should be in common to all persons whatsoever, special care being taken also that no one should be able to distinguish his own children individually, but all consider all as their kindred; regarding those of an equal age, and in the prime of life, as their brothers and sisters,—those prior to them, 321and yet further back, as parents and grandsires,—and those below them, as their children and grandchildren.^[259]

Tim. Aye,—these things too, in the way you describe them, are easily remembered.

Soc. That they might at once acquire then the best possible natural disposition, I recollect that we decreed that the rulers, male and female, whom we placed over the marriage contract, should secretly contrive, through certain lots, that the worthy should assort only with the worthy, the base with the base,—and that no discord might arise from this connexion, we should refer all the blame of the union to fortune alone.

Tim. This, too, we remember.

Soc. We ordered, moreover, that the children of the good should be properly trained, but those of the bad secretly sent to the other part of the state, while of those who are constantly arriving at manhood, such as are found to be of a good disposition, should be recalled from exile; those, among them, on the contrary, who have proved themselves unworthy, being in their turn banished to the place occupied by those just promoted.

Tim. Just so.

Soc. Have we, then, sufficiently summed up yesterday’s discussion; or do we need anything further, friend Timæus, that has been omitted?

Tim. By no means, Socrates; for these were the very things discussed.

III.—Soc. You shall now hear some further details respecting the republic that we have described, and how I feel towards it. The feeling, then, seems to me somewhat similar to this,—as if some one, on beholding beautiful animals, either wrought by the graver’s art, or really alive, but in a state of perfect rest, were to entertain a desire to behold them in motion, struggling, as it were, in those exercises which seem best suited to their bodies. Just the same do I feel towards that form of state which we have described; for I should gladly listen to any one who recited the story of the contests that one state engages in with others, when it ventures becomingly on war, and exhibits in the course of 322it a conduct worthy of its nurture and training, as regards both active encounters and verbal negotiations with individual states. On these points, indeed, Critias and Hermocrates, I am conscious of my own inability to praise the men and the state according to their desert; and that I should be so incapable is no wonder, as I have formed the same opinion respecting the poets both of the past and present age;—not that I despise the poet-tribe, but still every one must see, that being an imitative race, they most easily and in the best manner imitate those things in which they have been trained; while, on the contrary, whatever is unconnected with their training, is hard for them to imitate well even in actions, and in words even yet more difficult. And as for the tribe of Sophists, I deem them indeed mighty clever, both in multiplying words and many other fine accomplishments; yet I fear, as they have no settled abode, but wander through various cities, and dwell in no abode of their own, they will form false conjectures respecting both philosophers and politicians, as to the magnitude and nature both of the actions which they achieve in war, and of the words they employ in their mutual intercourse. The only people remaining, then, to whom I can apply, are those of your character and habit, versed both by nature and training in philosophy and political science. For Timæus here of Locris, in Italy, which is governed by the best of laws,^[260] being withal not inferior to any of his fellow-citizens in wealth and nobility, has in his own state attained to the highest official honours, and has likewise in my opinion reached the summit of all philosophy. Critias, too, as we all know, is not ignorant of the particulars that we are now mentioning;—and respecting Hermocrates also, we have ample testimony for the belief that he is both by nature and education well suited to all these pursuits.^[261] Hence, when I perceived yesterday your great 323anxiety to discuss the formation of a republic, I was much pleased at it, being well aware, that if you pleased, none could better unfold the successive points for discussion;—inasmuch as, by properly adapting the state for warlike purposes, you would be the only person in the present age who could supply it with all things becoming its constitution. Having spoken, then, in compliance with your request, I now require you, in your turn, to comply with mine; and, as a matter of course, you have agreed to carry on the discussion among yourselves in common and so forthwith repay my hospitality with the feast of reasoning. Here, therefore, am I arrayed for the purpose, and readiest of all to partake of the promised banquet.

IV.—Herm. Aye, truly, Socrates, as Timæus here just observed, neither will we lack zeal in fulfilling your desire; nor will we offer any excuse for neglecting it; since only yesterday, just after leaving this, when we went to the lodging of Critias, where both there and before that on the way thither, we discussed this very subject. He here then unfolded to us a story from ancient tradition, which—prythee, Critias, even now repeat to Socrates, that he may judge whether or not it concerns his demand.

Cri. This we must surely do, if agreeable to Timæus, our third partner in this discussion.

Tim. I, for my part, fully consent.

Cri. Listen now then, Socrates, to a story very strange indeed, yet in every respect true, as it was once related by Solon, the wisest of the seven [sages of Greece]. He was the kinsman and intimate friend of our great-grandfather Dropides, as he himself often tells us in his poems; and he (Dropides) informed our grandfather Critias (as the old man himself in turn told us), that this state had formerly achieved great and admirable actions, the knowledge of which nevertheless had been lost through lapse of time and the decay of mankind,—one act in particular being more illustrious than the rest,—in remembrance of which it were fitting, that we should not only return you thanks, but also in full assembly hymn forth to the goddessgoddess our true and just acclaim of praise.

Soc. Well observed:—but what is this achievement, which Critias described as having been not only related 324by Solon, but really accomplished by this state in days of yore?

Cri. I will acquaint you with that ancient story, which I indeed received from no mere youth; for at that time Critias, as he himself said, was almost ninety years old, and I myself about ten; and it chanced then to be the time of the Cureotis Apaturiorum.^[262] The boys indeed were then going through the ceremonies customary with them at this festival;—for our parents proposed prizes for singing verses; and therefore a multitude of verses of many poets were recited, and many of us especially sang the poems of Solon, as being at that time new. Then one of our tribe, whether it was his real opinion or he wished to gratify Critias, said he thought Solon not only the wisest of men in matters generally, but as regards poetry the most noble of all poets. On hearing this, the old man (for I well remember it) was exceedingly pleased, and said, laughing—‘If Solon, oh Amynander, had not considered poetry as a mere amusement, but made it, as others do, a serious employment, and so completed the history which he had brought from Egypt; and, had not been forced to relinquish it by the seditions and numerous other troubles in which he found his country involved, I do not think that either Hesiod, Homer, or any other poet, would have acquired more distinguished renown.’ ‘And what was that story, Critias?’ asked he. ‘One about an action,’ replied he, ‘the greatest and most celebrated, which this state ever achieved; although, through lapse of time and the death of those by whom it was undertaken, its fame has not descended to our own day.’ ‘Tell it,’ said he, 325‘from the beginning; and say what that was, which Solon asserted as true, as well as how and from whom he heard it.’

V.—‘In Egypt,’ said he, ‘in the Delta, about the summit of which the streams of the Nile are divided, is the district (νομός) surnamed Saitical; the chief city of which is Sais, whence also came the king Amasis; and it had a presiding divinity, whose name is in the Egyptian tongue Neith, which they say corresponds with the Greek Athena; and the people profess to be great friends of the Athenians, and united with them in a sort of close alliance. Solon said that on his arrival thither, he was very honourably received; and, especially, on his inquiring about ancient affairs of those priests who possessed superior knowledge in such matters, he perceived that neither himself nor any one of the Greeks (so to speak) had any antiquarian knowledge at all. And once on a time desirous of inducing them to narrate their ancient stories, he undertook to describe those events which had formerly happened among us in days of yore,—those about the first Phoroneus and Niobe, and again after the deluge of Deucalion and Pyrrha (as described by the mythologists), together with their posterity, paying due attention to the different ages in which these events are said to have occurred:—on which one of their extremely ancient priests exclaimed, “Solon, Solon, you Greeks are always children, and aged Greek there is none.” Solon, on hearing this, replied, “How can you say this?” To whom the priest, “You are all youths in intelligence; for you hold no ancient opinions derived from remote tradition, nor any system of discipline that can boast of a hoary old age:—and the cause of this is the multitude and variety of destructions that have been and will be undergone by the human race, the greater indeed arising from fire and water, others of less importance from ten thousand other contingencies. The story, for instance, that is current among you, that Phaeton, the offspring of the Sun, once attempting to drive his father’s chariot, and not being able to keep the track observed by his parent, burnt up the surface of the earth, and perished himself, blasted by lightning, is generally regarded as fabulous, but in point of fact it refers to a declination (or parallax) of the heavenly bodies revolving round the earth, and indicates that, at certain long intervals 326of time, the earth’s surface is destroyed by mighty fires.^[263] When this occurs, then those who dwell either on mountains, or in lofty and dry places, perish in greater numbers than those dwelling near rivers, or on the sea-shore;—whereas to us the Nile is not only our safeguard from all other troubles, but liberates and preserves us also from this in particular;—and again when the gods, to purify the earth, deluge its surface with water, then the herdsmen and shepherds on the mountains are preserved in safety, while the inhabitants of your cities are hurried away to the sea, by the impetuosity of the rivers. In this our country, on the other hand, the waters neither then fell, nor ever have fallen from above upon the plains, but on the contrary are naturally driven upwards from the earth’s interior:—and to these causes it is owing, that the most ancient things are said to be here preserved. The truth is, however, that in all places where there is neither intense cold nor immoderate heat, the race of man is always found to exist, sometimes in less, sometimes in greater number. And all the noble, great, or otherwise distinguished achievements, performed either by ourselves, or by you, or elsewhere, of which we have heard the report,—all these have been engraven in our temples in very remote times, and preserved to the present day; while, on the contrary, with you and all other nations, they are only just committed to writing, and all other modes of transmission which states require,—when again, at the usual period, a current from heaven rushes on them like a pestilence, and leaves the survivors among you both destitute of literary attainments and unacquainted with music;—and thus you become young again, as at first, knowing nothing of the events of ancient times, either in our country or yours. As for the transactions, indeed, Solon, which you have just related from your antiquities, they differ but little from puerile fables:—for in the first place you only mention one deluge of the earth, whereas there had been many before; and in the next place you are unacquainted with that most noble and excellent race of men, who once inhabited your country, from whom you and your whole present state are descended, though only a small remnant 327of this admirable people is now remaining,—your ignorance in this matter resulting from the fact that their posterity for many generations died without the power of speech through the medium of letters;^[264] for long before the chief deluge, a city of Athenians existed, regulated by the best laws both in military and all other matters, whose noble deeds and civil institutions are said to have been the most excellent of all that we have heard to exist under heaven.”

VI.—‘Solon, on hearing this, expressed his admiration, and exhibited the most ardent desire, entreating the priests to relate to him accurately and in order the whole history of his ancient fellow-citizens. And then one of the priests replied, “I have no objection, Solon; and for your sake, and that of your city, I will relate the whole, and more particularly on account of that goddess, to whom is assigned the guardianship both of your state and ours, and by whom both have been founded and fostered; yours indeed having a priority over ours of a thousand years, from having received its origin from Hephæstus and the Earth; and the annals even of our own city [Sais] have been preserved eight thousand years in our sacred writings. I will briefly describe, then, the laws and more illustrious actions of those states which have existed nine thousand years; and when we are more at leisure, we will take the sacred writings themselves, and recount an exact history of every particular.

‘“Now, consider the laws of these people, as compared with those prevailing here; for you will find here even at the present day many examples of institutions that formerly existed in your city. First of all, the priests passed their life separate from all the rest; and next, the artificers so exercised their crafts, that each followed his own employment without mingling with any other class of workmen. The same method was likewise adopted with shepherds, hunters, and husbandmen. The soldiers, too, you will find, were separated from other kinds of men, and were enjoined by the laws to engage in nothing but war. The armour, too, which each employed, such as shields and darts, resembled that which we used first of all the Asiatics,—the goddess in those places, as she did to you, first pointing out their use. Again, 328with respect to wisdom, you may perceive what attention the law paid to it even from the first, as likewise to all that respects the universe, including even divination and medicine, that conduces to the preservation of health; and from these, which are divine things, the inquiry proceeds to human affairs and all other branches of learning therewith connected. Such then was the principle of distribution and arrangement on which the goddess first founded and established your state, choosing for that purpose the place in which you were born; because she foresaw that from its excellent temperature, the region would produce men of the most consummate wisdom; and, the goddess, of course, being a lover both of wisdom and war, selected a spot likely to produce men most resembling herself; and fixed on this first as their settled abode. You proceeded to settle, then, under the protection of such like laws, and what is more, under good government, surpassing all men likewise in every virtue, as becomes the descendants and disciples of the gods.

‘“Many and mighty deeds of your state, then, are here recorded in writing [in our sacred records,] and call forth our admiration; nevertheless there is one in particular, which in magnitude and valour surpasses them all;—for these writings relate what a prodigious force your city once overcame, when a mighty warlike power, rushing from the Atlantic sea, spread itself with hostile fury over all Europe and Asia. That sea indeed was then navigable, and had an island fronting that mouth which you in your tongue call the Pillars of Hercules; and this island was larger than Libya and Asia put together; and there was a passage hence for travellers of that day to the rest of the islands, as well as from those islands to the whole opposite continent that surrounds that the real sea. For as respects what is within the mouth here mentioned, it appears to be a bay with a kind of narrow entrance; and that sea is indeed a true sea, and the land that entirely surrounds it may truly and most correctly be called a continent. In this Atlantic island, then, was formed a powerful league of kings, who subdued the entire island, together with many others, and parts also of the continent; besides which they subjected to their rule the inland parts of Libya, as far as Egypt, and Europe also, as far as Tyrrhenia. The whole of this force, then, being collected in 329a powerful league, undertook at one blow to enslave both your country and ours, and all the land besides that lies within the mouth. This was the period, Solon, when the power of your state was universally celebrated for its virtue and strength;—for, surpassing all others both in magnanimity and military skill, sometimes taking the lead of the Greek nation, at others left to itself by the defection of the rest, and brought into the most extreme danger, it still prevailed, raised the trophy over its assailants, kept from slavery those not as yet enslaved, insured likewise the most ample liberty for all of us without exception who dwell within the Pillars of Hercules. Subsequently, however, through violent earthquakes and deluges which brought desolation in a single day and night, the whole of your warlike race^[265] was at once merged under the earth; and the Atlantic island itself was plunged beneath the sea, and entirely disappeared;—whence even now that sea is neither navigable nor to be traced out, being blocked up by the great depth of mud^[266] which the subsiding island produced.’”^[267]

VII.—The above, O Socrates, is the sum of what the elder Critias repeated from the narration of Solon:—and when yesterday you were discoursing about a republic and the citizens composing it, I was reminded to my surprise of what I have now mentioned; for I perceived how divinely, as it were, by a kind of good luck, and without wandering from the mark, you in most respects coincided with Solon’s statement. Still I was unwilling to disclose these particulars immediately; since, from the long lapse of time since I first heard them, I did not remember them with sufficient accuracy [for repetition]. I considered, therefore, that I ought, before relating it, first of all to rehearse the whole diligently to myself. And this was why I yesterday speedily complied 330with your demands, conceiving, as is most important in such matters, that we ought not to lack ability to present a discourse suited to the object in view. Hence was it, as Hermocrates here observed, that as soon as we left here yesterday, I brought up the subject before my friends here, in order to refresh my memory; and by afterwards meditating on it at night, I acquired nearly a complete recollection of the whole story. According to the proverb, indeed, what we learn in childhood takes a wonderful hold on the memory:—for with respect to myself, for instance, I am not certain that I could recall the whole of yesterday’s discourse, though I should be very much astonished if anything that I had heard a very long time ago were to escape my remembrance. What I then heard, indeed, was listened to with great pleasure and delight; and the old man very readily recounted it, even when I frequently asked for a repetition; and thus the story became like the brands of indelible writing fixed in my memory. Well then, as soon as it was day I repeated the narrative to my friends, that they might aid me in fairly recounting my story. Now, therefore, as respects the object of all that has been said, Socrates, I am prepared to relate, not only the general heads, but the particulars also of all that I heard. As for the citizens and state which you described to us yesterday as in a fable, we will now convert it into a reality, and consider the state established by you as no other than this [of Athens,] and the citizens which you described as no other than those real ancestors of ours, alluded to by the Egyptian priests. Indeed they will harmonize in every respect; and we shall not be far from the mark^[268] in asserting that your citizens are the very people who existed at that time. Each taking our share then in this discussion, we will try our utmost to bestow suitable attention to the task that you have assigned us. It is requisite therefore to consider, O Socrates, whether this narrative answers our purpose,^[269] or we should seek some other in its stead.

Soc. And what other, O Critias, can we receive in preference to this, which, from its affinity, is extremely suitable to the festival of the goddess, and has the all-important merit 331of being not a cunningly devised fable, but a true history? It is impossible, therefore, to say, how and whence, if we abandon your narrative, we should find another more suitable. We cannot; but must acknowledge that you have been happy in your narration; and, as for me, after my discourse of yesterday, I will now rest, and be in my turn a listener.

VIII.—Cri. Consider then, Socrates, the arrangement of this banquet of yours, how we settled it. For we think it right that Timæus, who is the most astronomical of us all, and has bestowed much pains in acquainting himself with the nature of the universe, should be the first to discourse to us, beginning from the creation of the world, and ending with the nature of men;—and also that I after him, receiving from him, as it were, the men which have been ideally produced—and some of them, too, excellently educated by you,—should introduce them among us here, according to the word and law of Solon, as to proper judges, and make them members of this city; as being really those very Athenians of bygone days, which were described as unknown to us in the report of the sacred writings;—and so, in future, we will treat them in our discourse as citizens and Athenians.

Soc. I am now, it seems, to be plentifully and splendidly entertained in my turn with a banquet of arguments:—it is for you, then, O Timæus, to begin the discourse, having first of all invoked the gods according to the usual custom.

Tim. Well, Socrates, this at any rate is true,—that those who have even the least share of wisdom, always invoke the deity on entering every undertaking, whether small or great; and so we likewise (unless we be in every respect unwise) who are now about to speak concerning the universe, whether it be generated or without generation, shall (if we be not very unwise) make it our first duty to invoke the gods and goddesses, and pray that what we speak may be first of all pleasing to them, and also in consistence with ourselves. And as respects the invocation of the gods, so have I acted for myself; while as respects ourselves, we must lead you by that way which you may most easily understand, and which will best enable me to explain my meaning about the proposed subjects of discussion.

IX.—I think we ought, in the first place, to define what 332that is which is ever-existent, and has no generation; and what that is which is in a state of generation or becoming, but never really is. The former of these, indeed, which is apprehended by reflection united with reason, always subsists according to sameness;^[270]—while the latter is perceived by opinion united with irrational perception; since it subsists in a state of generation and corruption, and never really is. And, again, whatever is generated is necessarily generated from a certain cause; for it is wholly impossible that anything should be generated without a cause. An artificer, therefore, of anything, if he looks to that which always subsists according to sameness, and from this as a sort of pattern, works out the form and nature of his work, he must thus, necessarily, produce something wholly beautiful:—but where he employs for his pattern only what is generated, it cannot be beautiful.

Let this universe then be called heaven, or the world, or by any other name that it usually receives; and let us, in the first place, consider respecting it, what ought to be investigated at the very outset of our proposed inquiry about the universe,—whether it always existed, having no beginning, or was generated, beginning from some certain commencement. It is generated;—for this universe is palpable, and has a body; and all such things are perceptible (i. e. are to be apprehended by the senses); and things perceptible being apprehended by opinion, in conjunction with perception, appear to be in a state of becoming, and subject to generation. Again, with reference to what exists, it must necessarily have arisen from some cause.

To discover then the Creator and Father of this universe, as well as his work, is indeed difficult; and when discovered, it is impossible to reveal him to mankind at large. And this too, we must consider respecting him, according to which of two patterns he modelled the world; whether with reference to one subsisting ever in a state of sameness and similarly affected, or with reference to one that is only generated. If this world then is beautiful and its artificer good, he evidently 333looked to an eternal pattern; but if it be without beauty, and what it is not lawful to mention, he must have looked to one that is generated. It is evident, however, to every one that he looked to one that was eternal;—for the universe is the most beautiful of generated things, and its artificer the best of causes. Being thus generated, then, it has been framed according to principles that can be comprehended by reason and reflection, and ever abides in sameness of being. This, then, being the case, this world must necessarily be the resemblance of something;—although to describe its origin according to nature is the greatest of all undertakings. We should distinguish between an image and its pattern; just as words are connected with the things of which they are the interpreters:—and so when we speak of that which is stable and firm, and mentally intelligible, our language should be in like manner stable and immutable, and as far as possible unrefutable and immovable, having in this respect no deficiency; whereas, in speaking concerning its image only, and as compared to it, we should use probable arguments, that are in strict analogy thereto. Moreover, precisely as essence (or true being) is to generation, so is truth to faith (or mere conjecture). You must not wonder, then, O Socrates, since different people differ so much in opinion about the gods and the formation of the universe, if I should be unable to put forth generally approved and scrupulously exact statements on so difficult a subject; but even if we should only advance reasons not less probable than those of others, you should still be content, remembering that both I who am speaking, and you who are my judges, possess a common human nature; and you must be satisfied therefore, if my assertions are but probable statements, and should inquire no farther.

Soc. Capitally well said, Timæus; and we must proceed wholly as you recommend. As regards the prelude then of your discourse, we wonderfully approve of it: and now proceed to the strain (or main subject) itself.

X.—Tim. Let us declare then on what account the framing Artificer settled the formation of this universe.^[271] He was good; and in the good, envy is never engendered about anything whatever. Hence, being free from this (envy), he 334desired that all things should as much as possible resemble himself. Any one, therefore, who receives this as the leading principle of generation and the universe from intelligent men, will receive it most correctly. For as the deity desired, as far as possible, that all things should be good, and nothing evil,—he accordingly took everything that was visible and not in a state of rest, but in excessive agitation and disorder, and then reduced it from disorder into order, conceiving the latter to be far better than the former. It is not, indeed, and never was, lawful to do anything else but what is most honourable; and accordingly, he found by reasoning that of things naturally visible, nothing without intelligence could be more beautiful than what is wholly endowed with intellect, and besides this, that apart from the soul no one could possess intelligence.^[272] In pursuance of this reasoning, placing intellect in soul and soul in body, he constructed the universe; that thus it might be a work naturally the most beautiful and the best. Hence, therefore, we have a reasonable motive for calling the world an animal with a soul, truly intellectual, and created through the providence of the deity.

XI.—This being the case, let us next consider, in the likeness of what animals the composing artificer framed the universe. We must by no means then think, that he would deign to fashion it like animals subsisting as a part of anything (i. e. in an incomplete form): for nothing resembling an imperfect animal can possibly be beautiful. But we may consider it on the other hand, as most nearly of all resembling what contains the other animals both separately and collectively as parts [of a whole:]—for it (the universe) comprises within itself all intelligible animals, just as this world contains us and all other visible creatures.^[273] The deity, indeed, 335desirous of making it in all respects resemble the most beautiful and entirely perfect of intelligible objects, formed it into one visible animal, containing within itself all the other animals with which it is naturally allied. Are we not, then, right in concluding that there is but one heaven (or universe); or is it more correct to assert that there are many and infinite? One only, [I answer,] if it has been fabricated according to the original pattern. For that which comprehends all intelligible animals whatever, can never be second to any other:—for there would be need of another animal again to comprise these two, of which they would both be parts; and it would be more proper to assert that the universe resembles this comprehending third, rather than the other two. In order, therefore, that the world may in its substantive existence [κατὰ τὴν μόνωσιν] resemble the all-perfect animal—on this account the framer of the worlds produced neither two nor an infinite number; but this, the solely-begotten heaven (or universe) having been generated, now exists and ever will exist.

Now, whatever has been generated, must necessarily have bodily shape, and be visible as well as tangible. But nothing can be visible without the aid of fire, and nothing tangible without something solid, and nothing solid without earth,—owing to which, the deity at the beginning of his constructive labour composed the body of the universe from fire and earth. But it is not possible for two things alone to cohere, without the intervention of a third; for a certain bond is necessary between the two. And the best of all bonds is that, which, as nearly as possible, unites into one both itself and the natures bound with it. But proportion will naturally best show this effect;^[274]—for whenever, either in three numbers, or solids, or powers, the middle bears the same ratio to the last, as the first to the middle—and again also, as the last is to the middle, so is the middle to the first; then the middle (or mean) term becoming both first and last, and the last and first again each 336become means, they must thus all necessarily become the same relatively to each other, and having become the same with each other, will all be one. If then the body of the universe had been a superficies only without thickness, one medium alone would have sufficed, both for binding it and all that belongs to it;—but in the present case, as it was doomed to be a solid—and solids are never one only, but always jointed together by two media,—whence the deity placed water and air between fire and earth;—and by thus placing them as far as possible in proportion to each other, so that fire should be to air as air to water, and as air to water so water to earth,—he thus bound and framed together the world visible and tangible. On this account also, and from such elements, which are four in number, the body of the universe was confessedly generated by a certain proportion; and hence has resulted such an intimacy, that all its parts aptly cohere, and are indissoluble except by its uniting artificer.

Of these four elements, then, the composition of the world received one whole of each:^[275]—for its composing artificer constituted it from entire elements of fire, water, air, and earth; leaving no part of any one of them, nor any extraneous power,—considering that it would thus be a whole animal, in the highest degree perfect and of perfect parts; and besides this, that it would be one, as nothing would be left, from which any other such element could be produced; and lastly, that it would be free from old age and disease,—and perceiving also that the principles composing bodies, as heat and cold, and all possess vigorous powers, when they surround bodies externally and interfereinterfere with them unseasonably, dissolve their union, and bring on diseases and old age, whereby they decay and perish. Owing to such causes and reasonings, then, he framed this universe, as one whole, an united series of perfect wholes, perfect, undecaying, and without disease. He gave it also a figure becoming and allied to its nature;—and to the animal destined to comprehend all others within itself, that figure as the most becoming, which includes within itself every sort of figure whatever. Hence he fashioned it in the shape of a sphere, perfectly round, having its centre 337everywhere equally distant from the bounding extremities, as being the most perfect of all figures, and most resembling himself;—and he did this, considering the similar to be infinitely more beautiful than the dissimilar.

Next, he most carefully polished the external circumference of this sphere,—and this for many reasons. It needed, indeed, neither eyes, nor ears, as there was nothing externally either visible or audible:—neither was it surrounded with air, as if it required respiration;—nor, again, did it require any organ, through which it might receive its nutriment, and discharge it again when digested: for nothing was either added to or taken from it, that being impossible. Indeed the universe is artfully made to provide itself with nutriment through its own decay, as well as to suffer and do all things in itself, and by its own operations;—because, indeed, its creator conceived that it would be much more excellent, if independent in action, than if it required extraneous aid. And he did not think fit to give it hands either, as it had nothing either to receive or reject; nor yet of feet, or any other members suited to locomotion:—for he assigned to it a motion peculiar to itself, being that of all the seven kinds of motion,^[276] which chiefly belongs to intellect and reflection. Hence, making the world to turn constantly on itself and on the same point, he gave it a circular motion, and took from it all the other six, without giving it any power of progression: and as this revolution required no feet, he created the world without legs and feet.

XII.—Thus was it, that the intelligence of the eternal Deity, after due reflection, conceived the form of the god about to come into existence; and he made it smooth, equable, and even from its centre in every direction,—a body whole and perfect, wholly composed out of perfect bodies. As for the soul, he fixed it in the middle, extended it throughout the whole, and likewise surrounded with it its entire surface:—and so, causing a circle to revolve in a circle, he established the world as one substantive, solitary object, self-sufficient through its own excellence, requiring nothing external, but sufficiently known and friendly to itself. By this procedure, then, he produced the Universe, a blessed god. The Deity, however, 338did not, as we now undertake to say, form the soul posterior and junior to the body: for he who conjoined these, would never have allowed the more ancient nature to be governed by the younger:—and yet we, who are exposed to the blind chances of fortune, are apt to speak somehow in this silly fashion; whereas the Deity constituted the soul both in age and excellence prior to and older than the body, as being the proper mistress and ruler of its subject [the body;] and that, too, from the following sources, and in the following manner.

From one essence indivisible, and always the same, and from another again that is divisible and corporeal, he composed—by admixture from both—a third form of essence intermediate between the two; and again, between what is indivisible and divisible as respects bodies, he placed the nature of same and different (or mutable);—and taking these three, he mingled them all into one idea, joining them together by force, as the different would not freely mingle with the same. And after mingling them with essence, and producing one from the three, he again distributed this whole into suitable parts; each composed of a mixture of same, different, and essence. He next began to divide as follows:—In the first place, he took away one part from the whole; then he separated a second part, double of the first: and again, a third, one-and-a-half times as much as the second, but triple of the first; then a fourth, double of the second; in the next place a fifth, triple of the third: a sixth, octuple of the first: and lastly a seventh, twenty-seven times greater than the first. After this, he filled up the double and triple intervals, still taking off parts therefrom, and so placed them between the intervals, that there might be two media between every interval; one of which might, in the same degree, exceed one of the extremes, and be exceeded by the other, while the other part might in an equal degree exceed one of the extremes, and be exceeded by the other. But as by the intermediate links between the above-mentioned spaces the sesquialter, sesquitertian, and sesquioctave intervals were produced, he filled with a sesquioctave all the sesquitertian intervals,^[277] leaving a part of each, the interval between which 339and the following would have to each other the same ratio as the numbers 256 and 243; and in truth he thus exhausted the whole mixture—from which these were separated. He split the whole of this composition, then, along its entire length into two parts, joining them mutually across like the letter X, afterwards bending them into a circle, and connecting them both with themselves and each other, in such a way that their extremities might meet directly opposite the point of their mutual intersection, externally comprehending them in an uniform motion around the same centre; besides which, he made one of the circles external, the other internal.^[278] The motion of the exterior circle he proclaimed to be that of sameness, and that of the interior the motion of difference. He caused also the circle of sameness to revolve laterally towards the right, and that of difference diagonally towards the left. And the superiority he gave to the circulation of same and similar; for this alone he suffered to remain undivided;—while, as to that within, after dividing into six parts, and forming therefrom seven unequal circles, divided by double and triple intervals, three of each, he bade these circles travel in contrary directions to each other,—three of the seven to revolve at equal velocities, the remaining four with a velocity unequal as respects either of the former three, yet in a certain proportion as to their respective periods.

XIII.—After, therefore, the whole composition of the [universal] soul had been completed according to the intention of God who framed it, he in the next place formed within it the whole of a corporeal nature; and he aptly jointed them, by uniting centre to centre. The former (the soul), being interwoven throughout from the middle to the very extremities of space, and covering it even all around externally, 340though at the same time herself revolving within herself, originated the divine commencement of an unceasing and wise life throughout all time. And indeed the body of the universe was generated in visible shape; while the soul, though invisible, was made to partake of reason and harmony, and rendered the best of created things by Him—the best of eternal intelligences. The soul, then, being composed from the admixture of the three parts, same, different, and essence, classified as well as bound together in certain proportions, and itself revolving inwardly on itself, whenever it comes in contact either with anything mutable or indivisible, at once declares by its intrinsic energy with what anything is identical, and from what it differs, and also with reference to what, where, how, and when it happens, both as regards its own separate essence and its external affections, either in things generated, or such as possess an eternal sameness.^[279] When our talk, then, is about truth, and consistent with itself,—whether, on the one hand, it be about things mutable or things constant, and is silently and noiselessly borne onward by its own motion, or when it is concerned about things sensible, and the circle of difference reports on its onward passage to every part of the soul, then arise fixed and true opinions and persuasions:—but when, on the other hand, it is concerned about the merely rational, and the glibly-whirling circle of sameness makes its indications,—then intellect and science are thus necessarily brought to full perfection. And as respects the real essence in which these two qualities are engendered, if any one asserts that it is any other than the soul, he will assert everything rather than the truth.

XIV.—When the parent Creator perceived that this created image of the eternal gods had life and motion, he was delighted with his work, and by this very delight he was led to consider how he might make it still more to resemble its exemplar. Hence, as the intelligible universe was an eternal 341animal, he tried to make this [the sensible universe], as far as he could, similarly perfect. The nature indeed of the animal itself was eternal, and this nature could not be entirely adopted into any thing subject to generation;—hence God resolved to form a certain moveable image of eternity; and thus, while he was disposing the parts of the universe, he, out of that eternity which rests in unity, formed an eternal image on the principle of numbers;—and to this we give the appellation of Time. But besides this, he contrived the days and nights, months and years, which had no existence prior to the universe, but rose into being contemporaneously with its formation. All these are but the parts of time; and the terms it was and it will be are generated [i. e., varying and evanescent] forms of time, which we have wrongly and unawares transferred to an eternal essence. For we say that a thing was, is, and will be; while according to truth, the term it is, is alone suitable,—was and will be being expressions only suitable to generation, which proceeds through time,—both of them being certain motions:—whereas, what exists eternally, the same and immoveable, neither becomes at any time older or younger; neither has it been generated in the past, nor will be in the future, nor is it subject to those accidents which generation imposes on sensible objects,—all of which are nothing more than forms of time imitating eternity, and moving in a circle measured by number. And besides this, in making such assertions as these,—that what has been generated is generated,—that what is becoming, is in generation,—that what will be is to be,—and that non-being is not;—in all this we state what is not accurately true. But this is perhaps not the place for a minute discussion of these matters.

Time, then, was generated with the universe, in order that, being produced together, they might together be dissolved, if their dissolution should ever happen:—and it was formed on the model of an eternal nature, that it might as far as possible resemble it; for this model exists through all eternity, while the world, on the other hand, has been generated, now exists, and will exist, throughout all time. With this design, then, and after such reflection on the generation of time, the Deity, in order that it might be produced in full operation, created the sun, moon, and the five other stars, which are denominated 342planets, to distinguish and guard over the numbers of time. And as soon as he had produced the bodies of these stars, God placed them, seven in number, in the seven orbits whose revolutions are according to difference;^[280]—the Moon, indeed, in the first orbit nearest about the earth; the Sun in the second beyond the earth; then Lucifer (i. e. Venus), and the star sacred to Hermes (i. e. Mercury), revolving in their orbits as swiftly as the sun, but on a different principle of motion, owing to which these stars, the Sun, Lucifer, and Mercury, mutually overtake and are overtaken by each other in their respective courses. As respects the other stars, however, the labour of investigating their revolutions, and the causes that gave them origin, would surpass that of the discourse itself which caused their mention. These subjects, then, may hereafter, perhaps, when we have leisure, meet with the investigation they deserve.

When, therefore, each of the stars necessary for the constitution of time had obtained a motion adapted to its condition, and their bodies, bound by living chains, had become vital beings and learned their prescribed duty, they pursued their course according to the movement of difference, passing obliquely through the orbit of sameness, to which the former is subordinate, one circle being larger and the other smaller, one moving quicker and the other more slowly; those that revolved the quickest on the principle of sameness appearing ever to overtake and be overtaken by those that travelled at slower velocities. And the revolutions of all these circles in their orbits with a spiral motion,^[281] proceeding at one and the same time in two contrary directions, make it appear that the one moving at the slowest pace from that which was the most swift is the nearest of all. And in order that there might be a certain apparent measure of slowness and swiftness in the relative velocities of these spheres, and an evident uniformity in all the eight movements, the Deity enkindled a light, which we now denominate the sun, in the second of these orbits, in order that it might fully display all things in the universe, and that such animals as required it might have their share in number,^[282] becoming acquainted therewith from 343the revolution of sameness and similarity. Thus, then, and on these accounts, arose night and day; being the period of the one and most skilfully-contrived movement.^[283] The month, too, was generated, when the moon had run through her orbit, and passed into conjunction with the sun,—and the year, when the sun had completely travelled through his own orbit. As to the periods of the other stars, however, they are not understood, except by a very few; nor are they distinguished by any peculiar name or relatively measured on the principle of numbers:—and hence it may be said, they are ignorant that these movements really constitute time, infinite as they are in number and of wonderful variety. Still it is by no means impossible to conceive, how the perfect number of time completes a perfect year, when the courses of the eight orbits return at their completion to the same place of commencement, and have their revolution measured on the principle of sameness. In this manner, indeed, and for this purpose, were formed such of the stars as moved circularly through the universe,—that this (the visible animal, i. e. the universe) might resemble as nearly as possible the most perfect intelligible animal, in the imitation of an eternal nature.

XV.—The Creator constructed all the rest at the same time as the generation of time,^[284] according to the similitude of that which has been portrayed; but still, as the universe did not yet comprise within it the entire animal race, in this respect there was a dissimilarity. This defect, therefore, [the Creator] supplied by impressing it with forms corresponding with the nature of its pattern. Wherever, therefore, the intellect beholds ideas of a certain quality, and quantity in that which possesses life, such and so many he conceived that this (the universe) should contain; and these are four:—One, the heavenly race of gods; another, winged and air-wandering race; a third, that which dwells in the water; and a fourth, that which has feet and walks on the ground. The chief idea, indeed, of deity, he formed from fire, that 344it might be as far as possible splendid and fair to behold; and in adapting it to the universe, he rendered it circular; made it to consist in the knowledge of that good which it is to follow, and distributed it round the entire heavens, that it might be a true world, fully adorned with that race in its every part. To each of the divine bodies, also, he adapted two motions;—one of them taking place on the same spot and on the principle of sameness, corresponding with that intelligence which contemplates what is the same with itself; the other, a progressive motion subordinate to the motion that is constantly the same and similar:^[285]—but as respects the other five motions, it was fixed immoveable, that each of them might become as far as possible the best. And for this reason also the fixed stars were formed, as being divine and eternal animals, ever abiding and revolving in the same place and on the principle of sameness; and the stars, which both revolve and have the kind of motion above described, were formed on those principles.^[286] Next, he formed the earth our common nourisher, which, being confined round the axis that extends through the universe, is the guardian and artificer of night and day, as well as the first and most ancient of the gods that have been generated within the universe. With respect, however, to the dances [or rhythmical motions] of these divinities, and the mutual intersection of their circles, as well as their relative revolutions and progressive motions in their conjunctions and oppositions, whether in progressive or retrograde motion, at what times and in what manner they are in turn eclipsed, and afterwards reappear to our view, causing terror and presaging future events to such as are able to understand them;—to attempt an explanation of all this, without having a plan of them before us, would be a labour in vain. But of this enough; and this is all that we shall say concerning the nature of the visible and generated gods.

XVI.—Again, to speak concerning the other gods (or 345dæmons), and to know their generation, is more than we can perform; and we must trust to the reports of those ancient men, who being, as they said, the descendants of the gods, must have a clear knowledge of their parents. It is impossible, therefore, to discredit the children of the gods; and even though they should speak without probable and cogent proofs, yet as they declare that they are relating matters with which they are familiarly acquainted, we ought, in compliance with the law, to assent to their tradition. In this manner, then, according to them, the generation of these gods took place, and is described.

Ocean and Tethys were the progeny of Heaven and Earth; and from these sprang Phorcys, Kronos, and Rhea, and ever so many more with them;—and from Kronos and Rhea sprang Zeus, Hera (Jupiter, Juno), and all that we know are called their brethren, together with others still who were their progeny.^[287] When therefore all such gods as visibly revolve, and show themselves when they please, were generated, the Artificer of the universe thus addressed them: “Gods of gods, of whom I am the creator and father, all things formed by me are by my will indissoluble. Indeed, what is bound is of course dissoluble; nevertheless, to desire to dissolve what is beautifully harmonized and well disposed, is the mark of an evil nature. Now, inasmuch as you have been generated, you are hence not immortal, nor wholly indissoluble; yet you shall never be dissolved, nor become subject to the fatality of death; because you have got my will [that it shall be so,] which is a much greater and more powerful bond than those by which you were bound when first created. Learn, therefore, what I now say to you by way of information. Three classes of mortals yet remain uncreated. Unless these be created, then, the universe will be imperfect; for it will not contain within it every kind of animal, though it ought, in order to be quite perfect. Yet if these are generated, and partake of life through me, they will become equal to the gods. In order, then, that mortal natures may subsist, and the universe may be truly all, turn yourselves, according 346to your nature, to the formation of animals, imitating the power which I employed in the creation of yourselves. And so far as any part of these is suited to have the same name as immortals to be called divine, and destined to take the lead among those who willingly pursue justice, and reverence you—of these I myself will deliver the seeds and beginnings; and for the rest do you weave together the mortal and immortal nature, constructing and generating animals, and promote their growth too by supplying them with food, and receive them back again [into your bosom] when fallen to decay.”^[288]

XVII.—Thus spoke the Creator; and again into the same bowl, in which he had by mingling tempered the soul of the universe, he poured into it likewise what was left of the former mixture, somewhat indeed after the same manner, yet not equally pure as at first, but less so by two or three degrees. And after having thus framed the universe, he allotted to it souls equal in number to the stars, inserting each in each; and then, as it were, placing them on a vehicle [whereon to travel through the heavens,] he pointed out the nature of the universe, and announced to them the laws of fate; showing them that the first generation would be allotted in common to all, so that no particular soul should have less than its due portion, and that after they had been distributed through the several instruments of time adapted to each,^[289] there would then be produced that animal which is of all the most suited for religious worship; and as human nature was of two kinds, [male and female,] he showed them that the more excellent was that which would afterwards be called man. As souls, therefore, are from necessity engrafted in bodies that are constantly gaining and losing their composing particles, he declared to them that in the first place all persons must necessarily have one connate [ξύμφυτον] sense produced by violent emotions,—secondly, love mingled with pleasure and pain; and besides these, fear and anger, together with all their consequences and natural opposites; and that such as subdued these would live justly, those overcome by them unjustly. And he declared also, that after living well for the time appointed to 347him, each one should once more return to the habitation of his associate star, and spend a blessed and suitable existence; but failing in these points, he should be changed in his second generation into the nature of a woman; and should he not cease from evil even under these circumstances, whatever the shape his wickedness had taken, so also the soul should be changed into the nature of some brute corresponding thereto, and when changed never cease from labour, until, following the revolution of sameness and difference peculiar to itself, and having overcome by reason its turbulent and irrational part, which is a mass, as it were, composed of fire, water, air, and earth, it should at length return to the first and best disposition of its nature.^[290]

Having thus legislated for souls in all these particulars, in order that he might be in no respect the cause of the future wickedness of each, he planted some of them on the earth, others in the moon, and others in the remaining different instruments of time; and after this planting, he charged the junior gods with the duty of constructing mortal bodies, as well as everything additional that was required for the human soul, giving them dominion also over these and all things consequent thereon, and bidding them rule over the mortal creature as nobly and honourably as they could, that it might not become the cause of evil to itself.

XVIII.—The Creator, after arranging all these particulars, then retired to his accustomed repose; and while he thus abode, his children forthwith obeyed their father’s order, and, taking the immortal principle of a mortal animal, they, in imitation of their own creator, borrowed^[291] from the world portions of fire and earth, water and air, as things which they should one day restore; and firmly united them together, not with the same indissoluble bonds by which they themselves were held together, but fixing them with thickly-set nails, invisible through their smallness, constructing from these different 348elements each particular body, and placing the revolutions of the immortal soul in a body subject both to renewal and decay. These, however,—merged, as it were, in a deep river,—had no power of governing themselves, but violently hurried forward both themselves and others, so that the whole animal was moved—confusedly however, just as chance carried it forward, and without any reason, according to the whole six kinds of motion—backwards and forwards, to the right and left, upwards and downwards, and so on, according to the six differences of place. And great as was the advancing and retiring wave which furnished nutrition, yet it was still more agitated by the impulses which it received from without, when the body came into collision with external and foreign fire, or the solidity of earth, liquid waterfalls, or whirling blasts of air; from all which the various movements fell through the body on to the soul; which on this account were afterwards, and are still, called perceptions [i. e. general sensations]. And these, moreover, instantly giving rise to an exceedingly great and powerful motion, by moving with that constantly flowing stream, and vehemently disturbing the revolutions of the soul; wholly stopped the revolution according to sameness by their contrary current, hindering it either from commencing or continuing its course;^[292]—and even the movement according to difference they so far disturbed, as to turn from their circular orbits and throw into all possible disorder the three intervals of double and triple, together with the mean terms and conjoining links of the sesquitertian, sesquialter, and sesquioctave ratios, which cannot be dissolved by any one but the artificer by whom they were bound;^[293]—and thus, though scarcely connected with each other, they are borne along, though quite in disorder,—at one time straight forwards, at another obliquely, and then again upside down, just as if 349one were to fix his head on the earth and raise his feet on high, in which case, both to the inverted person and the spectators, the parts on the right would seem to be on the left, and the left on the right. These circles likewise greatly disturbed in these and similar ways, when they fall in externally with either sameness or difference, and call objects either same or different, contrary to truth, become false and unreasonable; nor is there any revolution among them which has a controlling and directing power;—and if, again, any of the external sensations are hurried forward and join in doing violence to the soul’s whole receptacle, they then seem to prevail, though in reality they are still in subjection.

And it is owing to all these affections, that even now as in the beginning, the soul, when first united to a mortal body, is without intelligence; but when the stream of growth and nutrition flows along with diminished speed, the circles of the soul, restored to tranquillity, proceed in their proper path, gaining steadiness as time goes on, and then the orbits of the circles are regulated in their course agreeably to those that travel according to nature; and they call both same and different by their proper appellations, assigning wisdom to the person by whom they are possessed. If any one, therefore, receives both proper food and education, he must become perfectly sound and healthy, escaping every important disease; whereas he who neglects his soul will pass lamely through life’s existence, and again pass into Hades aimless and unserviceable.^[294] Of these matters, however, more hereafter. It is our business at present to treat more accurately of what we before proposed,—namely, the generation of body in connexion with soul, and owing to what causes and divine foresight it has taken place, resting for our proofs chiefly on the argument of analogy.

XIX.—First, then, the gods, in imitation of the spherical shape of the universe, bound the two divine circles of the soul in a spherical body,—that, namely, which we now call the head, which is man’s most divine member, and the ruler of our whole composition. And to this the gods who framed it gave the whole body for its service, conceiving that it would thus partake of every possible motion; and moreover, 350lest the head, in rolling over the various elevations and depressions, should be unable to overcome the heights, or get out of the cavities, the gods gave it the body to be its locomotive vehicle. Hence the body was endued with length, and furnished by Divine contrivance with four members, naturally capable of extension and flexion, to enable it to seize objects, to give it a stable support, and to allow it to pass from place to place; and above this body was placed the head, the abode of our most divine and sacred portion. This was why we were furnished with legs and hands;—and as the gods considered that the fore parts are more honourable and fitter to rule than those behind, they gave us a motion chiefly progressive.^[295] Beside this, it was requisite, that man’s front should be distinct and dissimilarly formed from the other side; and on this account they first placed about the vessel of the head a face provided with organs to express all the energies of the soul, and assigned to this anterior part the natural government of man. And of these organs, the first that they constructed were the light-bearing eyes, fixing them in from some such cause as the following: The body of these eyes they formed to consist of fire, not enough indeed to burn, but to give a gentle light suitable to each day; for the pure fire contained within us and related to it, they caused to flow smoothly through the eyes, and in dense quantities throughout, but condensing it more especially in the middle of the eyes, so as to conceal all the grosser part within, and allow the pure only to filter through. When, therefore, the light of day surrounds the stream of vision, then, by the mutual falling of similar bodies on each other, one well-adapted body is constituted, according to the direction of the eyes, wherever the light proceeding from within resists that which falls on it from without. But the whole becoming similarly affected through similitude, when it either touches anything else or is itself touched by another, then the motion thus produced, diffusing itself through the whole body even as far as the soul, causes that sensation which we denominate sight. But when this kindred fire [within us] departs into night, the sight is cut off; for in this case, by proceeding into a dissimilar nature, it becomes estranged, and is extinguished: since it has no longer any relation to the 351proximate surrounding air, which is naturally destitute of fire. Hence it ceases from seeing, and besides this, becomes the introducer of sleep; for the gods constructed the eyelids to be a preservative of the sight, and thus by their compression restrain the power of its inward fire, and besides that, scatter and smooth over its internal motions; and when they are thus calmed, rest ensues; which rest, when profound, produces a sleep attended with few dreams;—but on the other hand, if certain unusually vehement motions remain, then, according to their nature and the places in which they occur, they will engender corresponding phantasms within, which will come to our recollection as soon as we wake. With respect, also, to the formation of images on mirrors, and all lucid, smooth surfaces, there is nothing in these difficult of solution; for all such phenomena necessarily result from the mutual affinity of the external and internal fire, and again from one in particular that subsists about smooth bodies individually, and is many times reflected, because the fire around the face gradually becomes united on the smooth and shining surface with the fire coming from the eyes. The parts on the right, too, appear to be on the left, because there is a mutual contact of the contrary parts of the sight with the contrary parts of the object, different from their accustomed mode of approach. On the contrary, the parts on the right appear on the right, and the left on the left, when there is a reflexion of the light composed of the mingled fires, both exterior and interior; and secondly, the smoothness of the mirrors, which are convex, reflect that which is to the right on the left, and the left to the right. But if the mirror be concave, it presents an image wholly inverted, by sending the lower part of the image upwards, and again the upper part downwards.^[296] All these phenomena, therefore, are only some of the concurring causes^[297] which the divinity brings to his aid in rendering the idea of that which is best as far as possible complete,—whereas the multitude are of opinion that these 352are not the concurring but the real causes of all things,—such, namely, as those producing cold and heat, freezing and thawing, and such like, but which are wholly incapable of exercising reason and intellect; for the soul may be said to be the only one of all beings that can acquire intellect; and this is invisible, whereas fire and water, air and earth, are all visible bodies. As for the lover of intellect and science, however, he should explore the first causes of intellectual nature, and consider, respecting second causes, how many arise from the motion of other bodies, and yet necessarily give motion again to others. This, then, is what we ought to do: we should speak concerning both kinds of causes, but separately of such as engage the intellect in forming things fair and good; and of such, also, as, abandoning wisdom, produce the things they form just as it may chance, and without any regard to order.

XX.—Respecting the second causes of the eyes,^[298] therefore, so far as they possess the power which falls to their lot, let what has been already said suffice; and we will next speak of their greatest and most useful employment, for which, indeed, they were expressly bestowed on us by the Deity. The sight, indeed, is in my opinion the cause of the greatest benefit to man,—since even in our present discussion about the universe, not one argument could ever have been adduced without surveying the stars, the sun, and the heavens. Now, however, both day and night, months and periods of years, have been seen and arithmetically calculated; and they give us a conception of time, and means of investigating the nature of the universe; from all which we have gained that kind of learning termed philosophy, a better gift than which never was nor ever will be conferred by the gods on our mortal race. This, then, is what I call the greatest benefit of the eyes; and as for the others that are of less consequence, why should I celebrate them, to make those who are blind and unphilosophic mourn and regret them in vain? This, however, we may assert, that God invented and bestowed sight on us for this express purpose, that on surveying the circles of intelligence in the heavens, we might properly employ those of our own minds, which, though disturbed when compared with the others that are uniform, are still allied to their circulations; 353and that having thus learned and being naturally possessed of a correct reasoning faculty, we might by imitating the uniform revolutions of divinity set right our own silly wanderings and blunders.

As respects voice and hearing, we may say again, that they were bestowed on us by the gods for the same objects and on the same account; for speech was ordained for the very same purpose as the sight, which it greatly aids in its office;—and it is with a view also to harmony that the hearing has an aptitude for musical sounds. That harmony, moreover, which consists in motions analogous to the revolutions of our soul, does not seem advantageous to him who wisely devotes himself to the Muses^[299] on the mere ground of its being pleasurable without reason, as it seems at present; but it was given us by the Muses to aid us in reducing the disturbed circulation of our soul to mutual order and accordance;—and again, they gave us rhythm for the same purpose, as the means of reforming the irregular and ungracious habits that prevail in the majority of our race.

XXI.—Thus far, with only a few exceptions, our past remarks have had reference to the creations of intellect; and we ought to speak likewise of things that come of necessity; for the generation of this world results wholly from the co-operation of intellect and necessity. Intellect, indeed, ruling over necessity, persuaded it to bring to the highest perfection the majority of created things; and in this way, by the persuasive power of wisdom over necessity, this universe was first created. Now, correctly to explain in what way it was created, we must refer in our explanation to the form of a variable cause,^[300] as the nature of the case requires. Let us then recall our steps, and take up the subject afresh, going back to first principles, as we did before. Let us investigate then the nature and affections of fire and water, air and earth, prior to the generation of the heavens; for up to the present time no one has yet unfolded their generation:—and yet we speak of fire and other things as principles and elements of the universe, just as if the nature of each was known;—whereas at the same time any one with 354the least intelligence must be aware that they cannot be compared even to letters or parts of which syllables are formed. As respects ourselves, this is what we propose:—we will not speak of the principle or principles, or whatever other denomination they may receive, of all things;—and this for no other reason than the difficulty of stating what are my sentiments according to our present method of discussion.^[301] Do not expect me then to speak thus, for I cannot persuade myself that I have the ability to undertake so difficult a subject. Keeping, therefore, to the line of argument laid down at the beginning, on the force of probability,^[302] I will endeavour to make statements not less probable than those of others, and beginning the subject once more from its commencement^[303] to discourse on the matter both in detail and as a whole. First, then, invoking the divinity who has now from the first been the guardian of our discourse, to defend us from an absurd and unusual exposition and lead us to a doctrine founded on probability—let us again begin to speak.

XXII.—This fresh commencement then, of our present discussion requires a more ample division than the former. For then we distinguished only two species; but we must now admit a third. In the former discussion two were sufficient;—one set forth as a species of model, apprehensible by the intellect, and always subsisting on the principle of sameness,—the second an imitation of the model, generated and visible; and we did not then distinguish a third, because we deemed these two sufficient. But now the subject of discourse seems to compel me to introduce and explain a new species which is both difficult and obscure.^[304] Of what natural power, then, are we to conceive it possessed? It is indeed in some sort the special receptacle, and, as it 355were, the nurse of all generation. Such indeed is the truth:—but we must speak more clearly concerning it. And this will certainly be an arduous undertaking on many accounts, but principally on account of the questions that must previously be settled concerning fire and the rest of the elements,—why one should be called water rather than fire, or air rather than earth, or why any one of them should bear one name in particular rather than all the rest; thus rendering it a difficult matter to use a language about it that is fixed and stable. How then, and by what means, are we to arrive at a probable conclusion in this dilemma?

In the first place, then, what we now denominate water, on becoming condensed, seems to take the form of stones and earth,—and when melted and dispersed, that of vapour and air;—air also, when burnt up, becomes fire, while the latter again, on becoming condensed and extinct, resumes the form of air; and again air, when collected and condensed, produces mists and clouds, from which, when still more compressed, rain descends; and from water again are formed earth and stones;—[the whole of them,] as it seems, exchanging all round their mutual generation.^[305]

XXIII.—As these, then, never maintain any constancy of existence, who will have the assurance to maintain that any one of them is this rather than that? No one:—and it would be far the safest plan to speak about them as follows:—When we see anything constantly passing from one state of existence to another, as fire for instance, we should not say that it is fire absolutely, but something fiery,—and again, that what we call water is not absolutely so, but something watery; without assigning to them any names that would give the idea of stability, as we think people do, when they express it by this and that (τόδε καὶ τοῦτο);—for not being of an abiding nature, it cannot endure to have applied to it such terms as, this thing, of this nature, belonging to this; and any such others as would show it to have a substantive existence. Hence we should not give any one of them an individual name, but call it something such-like, but ever fluctuating; and especially with respect to fire, [we should assert] that it is wholly such-like, and similarly likewise, everything 356endued with generation. [That receptacle,] however, in which each of these appears successively to grow up and decay, that alone is entitled to be termed this and that;—whereas anything of any kind soever, as hot, white, or their contraries, and all therefrom proceeding, cannot be so denominated. But let us again try more clearly to explain our meaning. If any one, in modelling all kinds of figures out of gold, were unceasingly to transform them one by one into all the others, and some one present were to point to one of them and inquire what it was, it would be by far the safest and most correct to say that is gold; but as for its being a triangle, or any other figure that might be given to it, not to speak of them as being so in reality, inasmuch as they are in process of change, even while we make such assertion; but to be content if it may safely be denominated such-like, [or of such a nature]. The same remark applies to that which receives all bodies;—and we should ever call it by the same name, as it never abandons its own proper power, but perpetually receives all things, and never anywhere or in any way assumes any of those shapes that enter into it,—being in fact a natural receptacle for everything,^[306] receiving both motion and form from what enters therein; and this is why it exhibits a different aspect at different times. But as for the representations of the objects that enter and depart hence, they are modelled after them in a manner wonderful and difficult to describe, as we shall hereafter relate.

XXIV.—For the present, then, we must consider three things:—first, that which is produced,—the second, that in which it is produced,—and the third, that of which the thing produced is the natural resemblance. And especially is it proper to compare that which receives to the mother (i. e. which supplies the model), that from which it receives to the father, and the nature intermediate between these to the child;^[307] and to consider, also, that as the image should 357present every possible variety of forms, that in which the model is formed cannot well be prepared for the purpose, unless those forms have been erased from it which it used to receive from other quarters. Indeed, if it were like any of the objects that enter into it, if aught were to present itself of a nature contrary and wholly different, it would produce a bad likeness thereof. And hence from presenting at the same time its own image, that which is destined to receive within itself all the different species possible, should itself be destitute of all form whatever;—just as those preparing sweet-smelling unguents take all pains to render wholly inodorous the liquids that are to receive the perfume,—and as those also who wish to impress figures on a soft substance carefully remove from it any previous impression, and make it, as far as they can, exquisitely smooth and well-polished. In the same way, then, that which is intended properly to receive through its entire extent the resemblances of eternal beings, should be naturally without any form whatever of its own. Hence, as to this mother and receptacle of things created, which is visible and every way perceptible, we cannot term it either earth, air, fire, or water,—nor again, any one of their compounds, or any of the elements from which they were produced; but we should not be at all wrong in calling it a certain invisible and shapeless essence, which receives all things and has a certain share of intelligence,—though how it has it, is a matter very obscure and difficult of apprehension. So far, however, as it is possible to arrive at its nature from what has been previously said, we may very correctly say that fire appears to be something inflamed,^[308] water something moist,—and so in like manner, earth and air, so far as it receives the images of these bodies.

XXV.—Let us, then, be somewhat more minute in resolving the following question,^[309]—whether there is a certain 358fire subsisting in itself,—and so also, as respects other things which we always say have a separate existence in themselves, whether the objects alone that we see, and which are perceived through the bodily organs, possess reality of being, and nothing besides these has any existence at all,—or whether we are wrong in asserting that each of them has its corresponding idea, when after all it is nothing but idle talk. The present question, therefore, we must not decide without much judicious examination; neither should we add to our present discourse any great length of matter not strictly belonging to the subject:—but if there should appear to be any limit, by which it can be contained within a small compass, that would of all things be the most opportune to our present design.

Thus, then, will I state my opinion. If intellect and true opinion are two separate kinds of things, there must necessarily be self-existing ideas not perceptible by the senses, and to be apprehended only by the intellect; but if, as appears to some, true opinion differs in no respect from intellect, everything perceived through the body should be considered perfectly real. We must consider them, then, as two distinct things, because they both have a separate origin and character, one of them produced in us by learning, the other through persuasion,—one always based on true reason, the other irrational,—the one not to be moved by persuasion, the other subject to such mutation:—and lastly, of true opinion every man has a share; but of intellect only the gods, and some small portion of mankind.

XXVI.—Such being the case, we must acknowledge that there is an idea which subsists according to sameness, unproduced and not subject to decay; receiving nothing into itself from elsewhere, and itself never entering into any other nature, but invisible and imperceptible by senses, and to be apprehended only by pure intellect; while the second, on the other hand, which is like it, and bears the same name, is perceptible by the senses, the effect of production, ever in motion, coming into being in a certain spot, and then again hastening to decay, being apprehended by opinion united with perception. Again, there is a third 359class of being,—that of eternal place; which is never destroyed, but becomes a seat (or receptacle) for everything created, being perceptible of itself without the interference of the senses, by a sort of bastard reason, though scarcely to be relied on; and hence seeing it, as in a dream, we assert that every being must necessarily be somewhere, and in a certain place, and that nothing can exist which is neither on earth or in the heavens. With regard to all these, and such like opinions and the ideas which are entertained in a waking state and have a positive existence, we cannot, owing to this dreaminess, clearly distinguish the one from the other, and state what is the fact,—that the image, which cannot claim as its own that even for which it is formed, but is ever borne along as the spectre of something else, must consequently be formed in something else, and somehow vindicate to itself a separate essence, if it has any existence at all;—whereas, with regard to real being, true and accurate reason aids it by affirming, that as long as two things differ from each other, they cannot so exist one in another, as to be at the same time two things and one only.^[310]

XXVII.—This, then, is a summary of my opinion,—that there are three distinct things which existed before the formation of the universe, being, place, and generation;—that the nurse of generation, moistened and inflamed, receiving the forms of earth and air, and experiencing all the other accidents thereon consequent, appeared under many various aspects; but as it was contained by powers neither similar nor equally balanced, it could not possibly be balanced itself, and through the want of such balance, became itself impelled by these forces, to which it again in turn gave impulse;^[311] while the parts in motion were separately hurried along in different directions, like things shaken and winnowed 360by sieves (πλοκάνων) and machines used for the cleansing of corn, the dense and heavy particles in one direction, those that are light settling in another quite different. Thus when these four classes were agitated by their receptacle, which was itself moved as by the shaking of the [above-mentioned] instrument, there was a separation of the dissimilar parts, and a crowding together of those most alike; in consequence of which these other things also occupied a different position, before the universe was created and from such materials reduced to order. Before this, indeed, they all subsisted irrationally, and without measure;—but when the Creator undertook to arrange the universe, he first gave shapes with forms and numbers to fire and earth, water and air, which possessed indeed certain traces of their true essence, though, nevertheless, wholly so situated, as everything would probably be, in the absence of its god.^[312] And let us above all things hold, and ever hold, that the Deity made them as far as possible the most beautiful and the best, when before they were in a totally different condition. Now, then, I will try to show you the distribution and generation of these things individually by a somewhat unusual mode of proof; but yet, as you have trodden the paths of mathematical learning, through which we must necessarily make our demonstration, you will not fail to follow me.

XXVIII.—First, then, that fire and earth, water and air, are bodies, is evident surely to every one. But every species of body possesses solidity; and every solid must necessarily be contained by planes. Again, a base formed of a perfectly plane surface is composed from triangles.^[313] But all triangles are originally of two kinds, each of them having one angle a right angle, and the two others acute:—and one of these has 361an equal part of a right angle divided by the equal sides; while in the other, two unequal parts of a right angle are divided by the unequal sides. This, then, we lay down, according both to probability and necessity, as the origin and principle of fire and all other bodies;—but as for the heavenly principles thereof, these indeed are known only to the Deity, and to those among men who enjoy God’s favour.

We must relate, then, of what kind those four most beautiful bodies were that thus came into being, and which, however unlike each other, may yet be produced from each other by dissolution. By accomplishing this, indeed, we shall ascertain the truth about the generation of earth and fire, as well those elements (i. e. water and air) which in their just proportion hold an intermediate position; for then we shall allow no one to assert that there are visible bodies more beautiful than these, each of which belongs to a separate class. It must be our endeavour, therefore, to unite together these four kinds of bodies so excellent in beauty, and so prove to you that we have sufficiently apprehended their nature. Of the two triangles, indeed, the isosceles has but one form, while the oblong or scalene admits of infinite variety. We must select, therefore, the most beautiful among the infinites, if we would begin and proceed in due order:—still if any one can prove that he has found any form yet better and more suitable for the composition of these bodies, he shall be treated not as an enemy but a friend, and his opinion shall prevail. As for us, however, we fix on one only as the most beautiful of all the many triangles, passing over all the rest;—that out of which is formed a third, the equilateral triangle.^[314] To explain the reason of this would indeed require a somewhat lengthened proof:—nevertheless we propose a handsome reward for him who by a diligent investigation finds this not to be the case. We select, therefore, two triangles out of many, from which the bodies of fire and the other elements have been constructed,—one being an isosceles, the other one always having the square of its longer side the triple of that of the shorter.

But what we formerly asserted rather obscurely, we must

362now more accurately define. For all the four kinds [of elements] seemed to be mutually generated among each other from not being correctly represented; for there are generated from the triangles which we have just chosen, four kinds [of solid figures]—three of them, indeed, from one having unequal sides, and the fourth alone constructed from the isosceles triangle.^[315] All of them, therefore, cannot, by dissolution into each other, produce from many small things a few that are large,—this being effected only by three of them; for all things whatever naturally arise from one only, and when the greater parts are dissolved, many small parts will be formed out of them, receiving figures suitable to each; and again, when the numerous small parts are dispersed into triangles, a single number is formed, and the entire bulk constitutes one separate body of large size.^[316] Thus much then may suffice concerning their mutual generation.

XXIX.—We must speak next in order concerning the quality of each class individually, and show from what composition of numbers each was formed. The first, then, indeed, is that composed from the smallest triangles, its element being that which has its subtending side twice the length of the shorter. Now, two of these triangles being mutually brought together to form a diagonal diameter, and this being thrice repeated, so that the diagonals and shorter sides shall meet in the same point, as in a centre, the result will be one equilateral triangle composed of six triangles. But four equilateral triangles form by the union of three plane angles one solid angle, the size of which exceeds that of the most obtuse plane angle; and thus by forming a figure that comprises four of these angles, we constitute that first species of solid, [the tetrahedron,] which divides into equal and similar parts the entire sphere in which it is inscribed. The second species of solid, [the octahedron,] is formed from the same triangles, which unite to form eight equilateral triangles, and form one solid angle from four plane angles, six solid 363angles being requisite to constitute this second class of solids. The third, [the icosahedron,] is formed from the union of one hundred and twenty elements, so united as to form twelve solid angles, each formed by five plane equilateral triangles, and it has for its bases (or faces) twenty equilateral triangles. These are the only solids that can be formed from this element, [viz. the scalene triangle]. It was the isosceles triangle, however, that produced the fourth elementary figure,—four of them being so united with their right angles at the centre, as to form one equilateral four-sided plane; and six of these again united forming eight solid angles, each of which is formed by the combination of three plane right angles;—the figure of the body thus composed being cubical, having six plane quadrangular equilateral bases. There was yet a certain fifth combination, [the regular dodecahedron;] and this the Deity employed in tracing the plan of the universe.^[317]