Section 12 of On the Nature of Things This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Eric DeSigo On the Nature of Things by Lucretius Translated by John Selby Watson Section 12 Book 4, Part 3 I will now state how it comes to pass that we can advance our steps when we please, and how it has given us to move our limbs out of the direct line, and what causes want to push forward this great weight of our body. Do thou, my friend, attentively receive my instructions. I affirm, then, that images of going first approach to the mind and impinge on the mind as we observed before respecting images in general. Thence arises will, for no man begins to do anything before his mind has discerned what it will do. And according to what it discerns is the image of his action. When, therefore, the mind so stirs itself that it desires to proceed and move forward, it immediately acts on the substance of the soul, which is distributed in the whole body, and through the limbs and joints, and this is easily done, since the substance of the soul is held united with the mind. That substance of the soul forthwith acts upon the body, and thus, by degrees, the whole mass of the man is protruded and moved forwards. The body at that time, moreover, opens its pores, and the air, which is always easily excited to motion, enters, as it naturally must indeed, through the open spaces, and penetrates the passages abundantly, and is thus dispersed through every minute portion of the body. Thus, therefore, the body, by two several powers, is made to move along as a ship with sails and wind. Nor yet is it wonderful, in these matters, that atoms so small can wield so great a body, and turn about all our weight. For the wind, though but light, and of thin substance, drives forward a large ship with vast power, and one hand rules the vessel with whatever speed it may be going, while one helm turns it in any direction, and a machine, by the help of wheels and polies, lifts many bodies of great weight, and raises them on high with but a slight force. And now I shall explain by what mean sleep spreads rest through our limbs, and dispels the cares of the mind from our breast. But I shall do this rather inegrably sounding than in numerous verses, as the short melody of the swan is better than the croak of cranes dispersed among the clouds of heaven driven by the south wind. Do you only, O Memius, devote to me your attentive ears and discerning mind, that you may not deny what I say to be possible, and depart from me with the breast repelling true precepts, when you yourself are in fault, and yet cannot perceive that such is the case. In the first place, sleep occurs when the substance of the soul has been disturbed throughout the several members, and has partly seceded from the body, as being driven forth abroad, and has partly, as being more concentrated, retreated into the interior of the body. For then, at length, when the frame is in this state, the limbs are relaxed and lose their power. Since there is no doubt but that this, our vital sense, exists in us by means of the soul, which sense, when sleep hinders from being exerted, we must then suppose that our soul is disturbed, and expelled from the body, but not wholly. For if it were all withdrawn, the body would lie steeped in the eternal cold of death, as, in that case, no part of the soul would remain latent in the members, concealed as fire lies hidden under thick ashes, whence the sense might be suddenly rekindled throughout the limbs, and flame, as it were, rise from secret heat. But by what means this change, from wakefulness to sleep, is produced, and how the soul may be disturbed, and the body languish, I will explain. Do you, my friend, take care that I may not pour out my words to the winds. In the first place it necessarily happens that the body, since it is touched by the breezes of the air to which it is exposed, must be externally assailed and harassed by the frequent impulse of that air. And for this reason, almost all animated bodies are covered with hide, or even with shells or with hard skin or bark. This same air, likewise, impinges on the interior part of the body of animals, when, as they breathe, it is drawn in and respired. For which reason, when the body is affected from both causes, and when assaults penetrate through the small pores of our frame to its primary parts and first elements, a labifactation, as it were, takes place by degrees throughout our members. For the positions of the elements of the body and mind are disturbed, so that part of the soul is drawn forth from them, and part retires hidden into the interior. But also dispersed throughout the limbs cannot remain united together, nor perform its ordinary motions mutually with other parts. For nature obstructs the communications and passages, and therefore the motions of the atoms being changed, since wholly fails. And since there remains nothing that can, as it were, prop up the limbs, the body becomes weak, and all its members languish. The arms and the eyelids fall, and the hams often subside with a sinking lassitude, and relax their strength. Sleep too follows upon taking food, because food, while it is being distributed through all the veins, produces the same effects which the air produces, and that sleep is far the most heavy effect which you take when full or weary, because most of the atoms of the frame are then disturbed, being shaken with much effort. By the same means a deeper concussion in the substance of the soul takes place, as well as a larger ejection of it without, and it becomes more divided in itself and distracted within. And in general, as each of us, having pursued any study, is devoted to it in his thoughts, or in whatever occupation we have been much engaged previously, and the mind has been more exerted in that pursuit, we seem, for the most part, to go through the same employments in sleep. Lawyers seem to plead causes and to make laws, generals to fight and engage in battles, sailors to wage settled war with the winds, and myself to pursue this work, and investigate perpetually the nature of things, and to explain it, when discovered, in the language of my country. Thus other studies and arts seem generally, in sleep, to occupy the minds of men with delusions. And whatsoever persons have given continual attention to games and spectacles for many days in succession. We generally see that, in those persons, when they have ceased to observe those objects with their bodily senses, there are yet passages remaining open in the mind, where the same images of the same objects may enter. For very many days, therefore, those same images are presented before their eyes, so that they seem, even when awake, to see figures dancing, and moving their pliant limbs, and to listen with their ears to the liquid music and speaking chords of the liar. And likewise, to perceive the same assembly, and to contemplate, at the same time, the various decorations of the scene shining before them. Of so great influence is study and inclination, and so much difference does it make in what pursuits, not only men, but indeed all animals, have been accustomed to be engaged. For you will see stout horses, when their limbs shall be stretched in sleep, yet perpetually perspiring and panting, and apparently exerting their utmost strength for the palm of victory, or often starting in their sleep as if the barriers were just set open. And the dogs of huntsmen, when stretched in gentle repose, often throw out their legs on a sudden, and hurdly utter cries, and frequently draw in the air with their nostrils, as if they were pursuing the newly discovered traces of wild beasts. And oftentimes, after they are awakened, they follow in imagination the empty images of stags, as if they saw them turned to flight, until, their delusions being dispelled, they return to their senses. And the fawning breed of dogs that are accustomed to the house begin, at times, to rouse themselves and start up from the ground, just as if they saw strange faces and looks. And the more fierce any breeds are, the more must the same breeds show fierceness in their sleep. But various birds likewise take flight, and suddenly disturb with their wings the groves of the gods during the night if, in their quiet sleep, hawks have appeared, pursuing and flying after them, to offer battle and threaten hostilities. Moreover, the minds of men, whatever great things they affect with vast efforts in the day, frequently perform and carry on the same things also during their sleep. King's storm-cities are taken prisoners, join battle, raise a cry as if they were being stabbed on the spot. Many struggle desperately, and utter groans as if in pain, and fill all parts around with loud shrieks, as if they were torn by the bite of panther or savage lion. Many in sleep speak of important matters, and men have often made, in dreams, a revelation of their own guilt. Many apparently die. Many show terror through their whole frame, like persons who are casting themselves to the ground from high mountains, and, as if deprived of their senses, so disturbed are they by the agitation of their body. Scarcely, after sleep, recover themselves. A thirsty man, also, in his dream, often sits near a river or pleasant fountain, and almost swallows up the whole stream with his mouth. Boys, too, bound fast in sleep, fancy that, being near a tank or broken vessel, they are raising up their garment and pour forth the bottled liquid of the whole body when the Babylonian coverlets of magnificent splendor are saturated. For when at length the full ripe hour is reached of vigorous manhood, and the genial stores crowd through the members, ceaseless then, at night, forms of the fair, of look and hue divine rush on the spirit, and the ducts of love so stimulate where throngs the newborn tide, that, as the tender toil were all achieved, full flows the stream and drowns the snowy best. For, as we erst of song, the seeds of life first spring when manhood first the frame confirms, and as on various functions various powers alone can act propulsive, human seeds by not but human beauty can be roused. These, when once gendered from their cells minute, or every limb or every organ spread, crowd in full concourse towards the nervous fount, by nature reared appropriate, whence abrupt excite they oft, as forms of beauty rise, the scenes at hand, the regions ruled by love. Then springs the tender tumour, the warm wish full or the foe, the luscious wound who deals with dexterous aim to pour the high rot charge, and full contending in the genial fight. So falls the victim on the part assailed, with the red blood the glistening bruise so swells, and or the sassan flows the tide he draws. So he who feels the shaft of love propelled from the dear form that charms him towards the spot, aims, whence the wound proceeds, supreme he pants to join the contest, and from frame to frame pour the rich humour. For the fierce desire, now felt, assures how vast the bliss to come. This, this is Venus, this he deems true love, hence flow the drops delicious that the heart erode hereafter, and its train of cares. Therefore, though the form adored be absent, still her phantoms haunt the lover, and his ear rings with her name, what ere the path pursued. Yet fly such phantoms from the food of love, abstain, libidinous to worthier themes, turn, turn thy spirit, let the race at large thy liberal heart divide, nor lavish gross, or one fond object thy exhausted strength, gendering long cares and certain grief at last. For love's deep ulcer fed grows deeper still, rank and more poisonous, and each coming day augments the madness, if the wretch, per chance, heal not old wounds by those of newer date, from fair to fair wide wandering, or his mind turn from such subjects to pursuits unlike. Nor are the joys of love from those shut out, who brutal lust avoid. The pure of heart, far sure pleasures, and of nobler kind reap. Then the wretch of lewd and low desires, who, in the moment of enjoyment self, still fluctuates with a thousand fears subdued, or the fair wanton, dubious, long who hangs, what charm his eyes his hands shall first devour, till fixed, at length, with furious force the spot painful he presses, through his luscious lips drives his keen teeth, and every kiss in dents, striving in vain for joys unmixed, and urged by latent stimulus the part to wound, where ere it seat, that frenzies thus his soul. But Venus softly smooths the wrongs endeared, and mutual pleasures check the lover's rage. Then hopes he too, in the same form to quench the maddening fires where first the flame arose. In hope, by every fact disproved, for this the more the soul possesses, still the more craves she with keenest ardour. Foods and drinks, as through the frame they pass, by toil worn out, fill many a huge interstice. Obvious wence dies the dread sense of hunger and of thirst, but human beauty, and the rosy cheek, with not the panting lover can endow but fruitless hopes, but images unsound, scattered by every wind. As oft the man, parched up with thirst, amid his dreams to drink strives, but in vain, since not around him flows but void, unreal semblances of floods. So with her votaries sports the power of love, false phantoms soul-presenting, nor can sight, where ere it rove, besated with the gaze, nor can the lover's lawless fingers tear ought from his idle, or her as he hangs, and the full power of every charm explores. Being when, in youth's prime flower, his panting frame enclasps her frame that pants, when all his soul expects the coming bliss, and Venus waits to sow the fertile field, though then amane, in amorous fold he press her, lip to lip, join, and drink deep the dulcet breath she heaves, to his useless all, for still his utmost rage cannot subtract, nor through the fair one force his total frame commingled with herself. Yet oft thus strives he, or thus seems to strive, so strong the toils that bind him, so complete melt all his members in the sea of love. And though, when now the full collected shock pours from the nerves, some transient pause ensue yet short its period, the fond fever soon, the frenzy quick returns, and the mad wretch still pants to press that which he pressed before, nor odd a vantod exists so deep pines he, perplexed, beneath the latent ill. Then, too, his form consumes, the toils of love waste all his vigor, and his days roll on in vilest bondage. Amply though endowed, his wealth decays, his debts with speed augment, the post of duty never fills he more, and all his sickening reputation dies. Meanwhile, rich unguents from his mistress laugh, laugh from her feet soft secon's shoes superb, the green-raid emerald, or her, dropped in gold gleams large and numerous, and the sea-blue silk, deep-worn, enclasps her with the moisture drunk of love illicit. But his sire's amassed now flaunts in ribbons, in tiara's flames full over her front, and now to robes converts of keyen loose or aledonian mould, while feasts and festivals of boundless pomp, and costliest viands, garlands, odours, wines, and scattered roses ceaseless are renewed. But fruitless every art, some bitter still wells forth perpetual from his font of bliss, and poisons every floweret. Keen remorse goads him, perchance, for dissipated time, and months on months destroyed, or from the fair haply some phrase of doubtful import-darts, that, like a living coal, his heart corrodes, or waft her eyes wide wander, as he deems, and seeks some happier rival, while the smile of smothered love half dimples or her cheeks. Such are the ills that Anamours attend most blessed and prosperous. But on those adverse throng myriads daily, obvious and more keen. Hence, by the muse forewarned, with studious heed, shun now the toils that wait. For easier far those toils to shun, then, when thy foot once slides, to break the entangling meshes, and be free. Yet though ensnared, and in the silly net led captive, thou maced still, if firm of mine, and by these numbers swayed, thy foot release. First the defects, then, of the form adored, of mind, of body, let thy memory nare one hour forget. For these full offed mankind see not, by passion blinded, while, reversed, charms they bestow which never were the fairs. Hence frequent view we those, each grace denied, the course, the crooked, held in high esteem. And lovers laugh or lovers, and exhort offerings to Venus, since so vilely swayed, while yet themselves are swayed more vilely still. To such the black assume a lovely brown, the rank and filthy negligence and ease. The red-eyed is a palace, the firm-limbed, all-bone, abounding row. The pygmy dwarf, a sprightly grace, all-energined wit. The huge and bulky, dignified and grand. The stammer, or lisp. The silent is sedate. The pert virago, spirit all and fire. The hectic, fine and delicate of frame. The victim worn with pulmonary cough, on life's last verge, a mate of matchless waste. The broad, big-bosomed, series full displayed, as from the bed of Bacchus. The flat-nosed, of monkey shape. A satyr from the woods. And the broad lipped, a nymph for kisses formed. But countless such conceits. And to narrate idle, yet grant the frame adored, possessed of face divine. That all the power of love plays o'er each limb symphonious. Others still exist of equal beauty. Still ourselves once lived without her. And full well we know she, too. Each art essays the baser need. And so with sense bedobs her that her maids far fly oppressed. And vent their smothered laugh. Down to the wretched lover off to broad bars she. Who at her gate, loud, weeping stands, kissing the walls that clasp her. With perfumes bathing the splendid portals. And around scattering rich wreaths and odiferous flowers. Yet when at length admitted, the first breath so deep offends him, he some motive seeks instant to quit her.  That for one moment he could deem her crowned with charms the race of mortals nare can boast. This know full well the Paphian nymphs. And deep behind the scenes of action each defect strived they to hide from him they feign would sway. But vain the tempt, for oft the mind will guess the latent blemish, and the laugh unfold. Whence those of soul ingenious frankly own, frequent, those faults which none can all escape.  Oft from their hearts engage they, urged amane by mutual hopes to run the race of love. Thus nature prompts, by mutual hopes alone, by bliss assured, birds, beasts, and grazing herds, the task assay. Nor would the female else error bear the burden of the vigorous male, by mutual joys propelled. Hest thou not seen, hence tempted, how in mutual bonds they strive worked off to madness? How the race canine, stain with their vagrant loves the public streets, diversely dragging, and the chain obscene tugging to loose, while yet each effort fails? Toils they would nare assay if unassured of mutual bliss and cheated to the yoke. Whence o'er and o'er the bliss must mutual prove. If when the male his genial energy imparts, the female deep her breath retract transported most, the race produced will then, from female store prove female, if reversed, from store paternal male. But when the form blends both its parents' features, it ascends from equal powers of each, the impulse warm rousing alike, through each conflicting frame, the seeds of latent life in scale so nice that neither conquers nor to conquest yields. Oft view we, too, the living lines portrayed of ancestors remote, for various seeds commingled various, through the parent frame lurk, which from race to race preserve entire the form, the features of the anterior stock. Diversely such the power creative blends, whence oft the voice revives, the hair, the hue, the full complexion of the race deceased, for these as sure from seeds defined ascend, as even the face, the body, or the limbs. Then, too, though male the fetus, female stores aid the production, while, if female formed, the tied paternal mixes in the make, for both must join or not can air ensue. But obvious this, that when the semblance more inclines to either, the prevailing sex chief lenth the seeds of life, and reared complete the virgin embryo, or incipient man. Nor ever interfere the gods above in scenes like these, the genial soil lock up or curse with barren love the man unblessed, no lovely race who boasts to hail him sire, as deem the many who, in sadness drowned, oft offer victims, and with fragrant gums kindle the blazing altar, wearing heaven vainly to fill the void reluctant womb. For blank sterility from seeds ascends too gross, or too attenuate, if the last, nare to the regions that generic spread cleave they, rejected instant as propelled. But if too gross the genial atoms dull move they, and spiritless, or never urged with force sufficient, or if power devoid, the puny ducts to pierce or pierced, to blend harmonious with the vital fluid found. For love harmonious, whence increase alone can spring, oft differs largely. Easier far, some filling some, and others easier filled, and gravate made by others, whence, at times, those many a hymen who have erst assayed, vainly, at length the appropriate stores acquire, and feel the lovely load their wombs enrich. While he, perchance, whose prior bands forbade all the fond hope of offspring, happier now a mate has found of more concordant powers, and boasts a race to prop his crumbling age. So much imports it that the seeds of life with seeds should mix symphonious, that the gross condense the rare, the rare the gross dilute, and man with woman duly paired unite. Much, too, concerns it what the foods employed, for some augment the genial stores, and some dissolve their craces, and all power destroy. Nor small the moment in what mode is dealt the bland delight. The sage who views minute herds, and the savage tribes by nature led, holds that the virtuous matron chief conceives, when, with subsiding chest and loins erect, her dulcet charms she offers, fittest then the luscious tide to absorb, for not avail exerted motions the perpetual heave of frame high strained, and ever laboring lungs. These, rather, urged beneath the tender fray, all fruit prohibit, since the genial share oft turned they from the furrow as it holds its course direct, and break them pinging shock. And hence the wanton mistress acts like these frequent indulges to preclude increase, and more transport the lawless form she clasps. Arts the chaste matron never needs essay. Nor from the darts of Venus nor the smile of God's above is she of homelier make, frequent beloved, the praise is all her own. By her own deeds, by cleanliness most chaste, and sweet consenting manners, the delight lives she of him who blends his lot with hers. Such virtues must prevail, and day or day perfect their power, for, though of gentlest kind, yet urged perpetual, such the sternest heart must gradual soften, and at length subdue. Has thou not seen the fountains falling drops scoop in long time the most obdurate stone? End of Section 12, Book 4, Part 3. Who is able, with mighty genius, to compose a strain worthy of the majesty of things, and of these discoveries of Epicurus? Or who has such power over words that he can compose eulogies proportionate to the merits of him who has left us such blessings, obtained and acquired by his own intellect? No one, as I think, formed of a mortal body will ever be able. For if we ought to speak as the known dignity of the subjects which he expounded requires, he was a God. A God, I say, oh illustrious Mamias, who first discovered that discipline of life which is now called wisdom, and who, by the science of philosophy, placed human existence from amid so great waves of trouble, and so great darkness of the mind, in so tranquil a condition, and so clear a light. Or compare with his investigations the ancient discoveries of others which are called divine. As Ceres is said to have pointed out corn to mortals and Bacchus the liquid of wine produced from the grape, though life nevertheless might have continued without these gifts, as it is reported that some nations even now live without them. But men could not have lived well and happily without a pure and undisturbed breast. For which reason he, from whom the sweet consolations of existence now spread abroad through mighty nations, calm the minds of men, seems to us the more justly to be accounted a God. But if you shall imagine that the deeds of Hercules excel his, you will be carried far away from sound reasoning. For what harm would those vast jaws of the Nimean lion and the bristly Arcadian boar do to us at present? Or what injury could the bull of Crete and the Hydra, the pest of Lerna, defended with poisoned snakes, inflict on us at this time? Or how could the triple-breasted strength of the three-fold Gary unhurt us? And how could the horses of Diamede, breathing fire from their nostrils, dwelling near Thrace in the Bistonian regions in Ismarus? Or how could the Arcadian birds formidable with their hooked talons, inhabiting the lake Stimphilus, have so much annoyed us that we should think much of their destruction? Or how I pray with the fierce serpent, with his stern looks and huge body, that watched as he encircled the stem of a tree the shining golden apples of the Hesperides, have interfered with our comfort, when he lived near the shore of the ocean and the rough waters of the sea, whither neither any countrymen of ours goes nor any barbarian dares to approach? How, I ask, would other monsters of this kind which have been killed, hurt us if they had not been conquered and were now alive? Not at all, as I am of opinion. For thus even now the earth is abundantly overrun with wild beasts and filled with alarming terror throughout the groves and vast mountains and deep woods, but these are places which we, for the most part, have power to avoid. But unless the mind is purified, what contests and dangers must we incur in spite of our utmost efforts? How many bitter cares arising from lust tear the man distracted by them, and how many consequent terrors? Or what ills do pride, uncleanness, wantonness produce? How great calamities do they cause? And what evils to luxury and sloth generate? Will it not be fit, then, that we should deem this man, who subdued all these evils and expelled them from the mind, not with arms, but with words, worthy to be ranked in the number of the gods? Especially when he was accustomed to give precepts both numerous and divinely expressed concerning the immortal gods themselves, and to set forth in his instructions the whole nature of things. This is he on whose track I have entered, whilst I pursue his system of philosophy, and show in these expositions how necessarily all things individually continue their existence according to that law by which they were produced, and how impotent they are to break the strong conditions of time and destiny, in which class of things produced and limited in existence the substance of the mind above all has been found to be, and has been demonstrated to be formed of a generated consistency at first, and to be unable to endure uninjured to vast eternity. But I have also made it plain that when we seem to behold him in our sleep, whom life has left, mere images are accustomed to deceive the mind. For what remains, the course of my subject has now brought me to the point at which I have to demonstrate that the world consists of dissoluble matter, and that it had also a beginning, and to show by what means the combination of matter established the earth, the heaven, the sea, the stars, the sun, and the globe of the moon, and what living creatures sprung from the earth and what, though believed to have existed, have at no period been produced. I have also to tell how the human race, with various speech, began to hold intercommunication by means of names of things, and by what process that oppressive fear of the gods entered the breasts of men, a fear which maintains throughout the world sacred temples, lakes, groves, altars, and images of the divinities. I shall besides explain by what force ruling nature guides the courses of the sun and the paths of the moon, lest perchance we should think that these bodies pursue eternal revolutions unrestrained and of themselves. In order to promote the growth of fruits and living creatures. And lest we should suppose that they are guided by any plan of the gods. For if those who have fairly understood that the gods pass a life free from care, nevertheless wonder, meanwhile, how things can inseverally be carried on, especially in those matters which are seen in the ethereal regions over our heads. They are carried back again to their old notions of religion, and set over themselves cruel tyrants whom they unhappily believe able to do all things, being themselves ignorant what can and what cannot be done, and by what means limited power and a deeply fixed boundary are assigned to every thing. To proceed then, and to delay you no longer with promises. Contemplate in the first place the sea, and the earth, and the heaven. The triple nature of which, dear Memias, three bodies, three forms so dissimilar, three substances of such a different consistence, one day will consign to destruction. And the mass and fabric of the world, sustained through so many years, shall sink into total dissolution. Nor does it escape my consideration how new and wonderful a subject it is for your reflection, that there will be an end to the heaven and the earth. And how difficult it is for me to convince you of this with arguments. As it generally happens indeed when you offer to the ear a subject hitherto strange to it, and yet cannot submit it to the sight of the eye, or put it into the hand, the avenues through which the nearest main road of belief leads into the human breast and the regions of the mind. But yet I will express my thoughts. Fact itself, perhaps, will bring credit to my words, and you will see, per chance, all things violently shaken in a brief space of time with rising convulsions of the earth, which time may fortune with commanding power avert far from us, and may reason rather than reality convince us that all things, overcome by the influence of time, may sink with a direfully sounding crash into destruction. On this subject, before I begin to utter oracles, expressed with more sincerity and with much more true reason than those of the Pythian priestess who speaks from the tripod and laurel of Apollo, I will set forth to you many consolations in learned and philosophic arguments. Lest, per chance, being restrained by religion, you should suppose that the earth, the sun, the heavens, the stars, and the moon, being endowed with a divine nature, must pursue their courses eternally. And lest you should conceive in consequence that it is just for all those, after the manner of the giants, to suffer punishment for their monstrous wickedness, who by their reasoning would shake the walls of the world, and seek to quench the radiant sun in the heavens, animadverting in mortal speech on bodies which are called immortal, but which in reality are so far distant from divine power, and are so unworthy to appear in the number of the gods, that they may rather be thought adapted to give us a notion of that which is altogether removed from vital motion and sense. For it is not possible that the nature and rationality of intellect should be thought capable of existing in all kinds of bodies whatsoever. As a tree cannot exist in the sky, nor clouds in the salt sea, nor can fish live in the fields, nor blood be in wood, nor liquid in stones, so it is fixed and appointed where everything may grow and subsist. Thus the nature of the mind cannot spring up alone without the body, or exist apart from the nerves and the blood. Whereas if this could happen the faculty of the human soul might rather arise in the head, or shoulders, or in the bottom of the heels, and might rather indeed be accustomed to grow in any place than to remain in the same man and the same receptacle of the man. But since it seems certain and fixed even in our own body, in what part the soul and the mind may subsist and grow up by themselves, it is so much the better to be denied that they can exist out of the entire body and without an animal form, whether in the soft clods of earth, or in the fire of the sun, or in the water, or in the lofty regions of the air. The heavenly bodies, therefore, since they cannot be animated with life, are not endowed with a divine sense. It is not possible, moreover, that you should believe there are sacred seats of the gods in any quarters of our world. For the nature and substance of the gods, being subtle and far removed from our senses, is scarcely apprehended by the power of our mind. And since it has hitherto escaped the touch and impact of our hands, it can assuredly touch nothing that is tangible by us, for nothing can touch another body if it is not possible for itself to be touched. For which reason the abodes of the gods also must be dissimilar to our abodes, as being subtle and correspondent to their own nature. These points I shall hereafter prove to you with abundance of argument. To say, moreover, that the gods designed to arrange all this noble fabric of the world for the sake of men, and therefore that we ought to extol it as an honorable achievement of the deities, and to believe that it will certainly be eternal and imperishable. And to affirm that it is unlawful ever to disturb from its seat by any force of argument, that which was established for the human race by ancient contrivance and for perpetual duration. Or to shake and displace, though only in words, the sum of things from their bases. And to feign and add other conceits of this sort, dear Memyes, is to be guilty of the utmost folly. For what profit can our gratitude afford to those who are immortal and blessed in themselves, that they should labor to affect anything for our sake? Where what new incitement could induce those who were before tranquil to desire, so long afterwards, to change their former mode of life? For it would seem that he only whom old things offend ought to delight in the things that are new. But in him to whom no trouble has happened in past time, when he spent life happily, what could excite the desire of novelty? Or, forsooth, the life of the gods was oppressed with gloom and sorrow until the genial birth of terrestrial things shone forth? Or again, what evil would it have been to us never to have been born? For whoever is born must certainly wish to remain in life as long as any alluring pleasure shall engage him, but to him who never tasted the love of life, nor was ever in the number of living beings, what affliction is it not to have been born? Moreover, whence was a model or idea for making things, and whence was the notion of men themselves implanted in the gods at first that they should know and conceive in their mind what they should seek to do? Or by what means was the power of primary particles known and what they could affect by their change of order and place, if nature herself did not give the first specimens of production? For the primordial atoms of things were driven in so many ways, by so many impulses, through an infinite duration of time, and were accustomed so to be born and carried forward by their own weight, and to meet in all modes and to try all endeavors as if to ascertain what their combinations might generate, that it is not surprising, if they fell at last into such positions and acquired such motions, as those by which this universe of things, through perpetual renovation, is now carried on. But if I were even ignorant what the primary elements of things are, yet this I could venture to assert from the scheme of the heaven itself, and to support it for many other reasons, that the system of things was by no means prepared for us by divine power, so great is the faultiness with which it stands affected. In the first place, of all that space which the rapid circumvolution of the heaven covers, mountains and woods, the abodes of wild beasts have occupied a vast portion, rocks and great marshes and the sea which widely separates the coasts of countries cover another vast portion, moreover burning heat and the constant descent of frost deprive mortals of almost two-thirds of what is left, and as to the land which yet remains, nature would still by her own operation cover it with thorns, if human strength did not prevent, which for the sake of the living is accustomed to groan under the stout mattock, and to cut the earth with plows urged through it. For unless we, turning up the fertile clods with the plowshare and forcing the soil, excite it to send forth its productions, they would be unable of themselves to rise into the liquid air. And yet at times when all things procured with so great labor or green and flourish over the earth, either the sun and the heavens burns them up with violent heat, or sudden showers and cold frosts destroy them, or blasts of wind with violent hurricanes tear them to pieces. Besides, why does nature cherish and increase by land and by sea a terrible brood of wild beasts and monsters hostile to the human race? Why do the seasons of the year bring diseases? Why does untimely death wander abroad? Moreover and infant, as soon as nature with great efforts has sent it forth from the womb of its mother into the regions of light, lies like a sailor cast out from the waves in want of every kind of vital support, and fills the parts around with mournful wailings, as is natural for one by whom so much evil and life remains to be undergone. But the various sorts of cattle, herds and wild beasts grow up with ease. They have no need of rattles or other toys. Nor is the fond and broken voice of the nurse necessary to be used to one of them. Nor do they require different dresses according to the season of the year. Nor, besides, have they any need of arms or high walls with which they may defend their property, since the earth herself and nature, the artificer of things, produce all supplies for all in abundance. Of all, since the body of the earth and the water and the light breezes of the winds and the warm heat, of which this sum of things seems to be constituted, consists wholly of generated and dissoluble substance, the whole frame of the world must be considered to be of similar nature. For of whatever creatures in mortal shapes we see the parts and members to be of a generated consistence. We observe in general these same creatures to be themselves both generated and mortal. For which reason, when I see the four elements, the vast members and divisions of the world, wasted and reproduced, I may conclude that there was also a time when the heaven and earth had a beginning, and that there will be a time for their destruction. On these points, do not imagine, my Memias, that I have assumed anything too hastily, in supposing earth and fire to be perishable, in not doubting that water and air waste away, and in saying that the same elements are again produced and augmented. In the first place, some part of the earth, parched with the constant heat of the sun and trampled with the perpetual action of feet, exhales mists and flying clouds of dust which strong winds disperse through the whole air. Part also of the clouds is washed off by showers, while rivers as they strike against their banks wear them away. Besides, whatever body increases another is on its own part diminished, and since the earth, which is the parent of all things, seems without doubt to be the common sepulchre of all things, the earth therefore, you may be assured, is wasted and is recruited and grows again. Further, there is no need of words to show that the sea, rivers and fountains abound with new liquid, and that waters flow incessantly into the ocean. For the vast deflux of streams from all sides declares it. But we must observe above all things that a certain portion of the water is carried off, and that it happens at last that there is no superabundance of water. For first that part is removed which the strong winds sweeping the ocean, and the ethereal sun dispelling it with his rays subtract from its surface, and next that part which is distributed through all the earth underneath, for the salt is strained off in its passage through the ground, and the substance of the water flows back, and all meets here and there at the sources of rivers, whence it flows in a fresh stream over the earth, wherever a passage once cut has borne along the waters in their liquid course. I shall now therefore observe concerning the air that it is changed every hour in innumerable ways. For whatever is perpetually passing off from bodies is all carried into the vast ocean of air, and unless it were to restore particles back to those bodies, and to recruit them as their substance passes away, all things would by this time have been dissolved and converted into air. It accordingly does not cease to be perpetually generated from bodies, and perpetually to return back to bodies, since it is agreed that all things are in constant flux. The ethereal sun, too, the great fountain of liquid light, floods the heaven perpetually with new brightness, and instantly supplies with a new ray the place of the ray that has passed off. For whatever brightness it first sends forth is, wherever it falls, lost to it. This you may collect from hence, that as soon as clouds have begun to come over the sun and, as it were, to break through the rays of light, all the lower part of these rays is immediately lost, and the earth, wherever the clouds pass, is overshadowed. So that you may understand that things constantly require a fresh supply of light, and that every first emission of radiance is dispersed, nor could objects otherwise be seen in the sunshine unless the fountain of light itself furnished a perpetual supply. Even your nocturnal torches, which are things of earth, your hanging lamps and tapers brilliant with waving flames and showing themselves fat with abundance of smoke, are impilled in a similar manner by the agency of heat to emit new radiance. They incessantly discharge their tremulous rays. They never cease, nor does the light as if broken off leave the place dark, so swiftly is the destruction of that flame hastened from all its rays through the rapid origination and emission of new particles. Thus too we must suppose that the sun and moon and stars throw off their light through successive generations of beams and perpetually lose whatever rays are first to pass from them, so that you must not by any means suppose that these bodies maintain imperishable vigor. Do you not see more over that even stones are overcome by time? Do you not observe that lofty towers fall, and that rocks decay? Do you not notice that the temples and images of the gods overcome with age open in fissures, and that the sacred deities themselves cannot extend the limits of fate, or struggle against the laws of nature? Besides, do we not see that the monuments of heroes fall? You might even believe that they desire for themselves a time to grow old. Do we not observe that flints crumble from the lofty mountains and cannot endure and withstand the powerful force of even a finite age? For if they were bodies which through infinite ages had sustained all the assaults of time and continued exempt from dissolution, they would not now suddenly be broken away and fall to pieces. Further contemplate this heaven around and above us, which contains all the earth in its embrace. It produces, as some say, all things from itself and receives all things when dissolved into itself. But it was a generated body, and consists wholly of perishable substance. For whatever increases and nourishes other things from itself must by that means be diminished, and must be recruited by receiving into itself fresh substances. In addition, if there was no origin of the heavens and earth from generation, and if they existed from all eternity, how is it that other poets, before the time of the Theban War and the destruction of Troy, have not also sung of other exploits of the inhabitants of earth? How have the actions of so many men, thus from time to time, fallen into oblivion? How is it that they know where survive in remembrance, and are nowhere stamped on everlasting monuments of fame? But, as I am of opinion, the whole of the world is of comparatively modern date and recent in its origin, and had its beginning but a short time ago. From which cause also? Some arts are but now being refined, and are even at present on the increase. Many improvements are in this age added to ships. Musicians have but recently produced melodious sounds. This nature and system of the world, too, of which I write, has been but lately discovered, and I myself, among the first discoverers, have been found the first poet that could express it in the language of my country. But if, perchance, you suppose that all these arts formerly existed the same as at present, but that generations of men have perished by burning fire, or that cities have fallen by some great catastrophe of the world, or that violent rivers through continual rains have inundated the earth and overwhelmed cities, you must so much the more, being convinced by these facts, admit that there will probably be also a destruction of the earth and the heaven. For since things were affected and shaken by so great disorders and so great dangers, if a more serious cause had then pressed upon them, they might universally have suffered destruction and mighty ruin. Nor do we who now live appear to be mortal, one like another, by any other inference than that we second with diseases, similarly to those whom nature has removed from life. Further. But so every body's remain eternal, must either, as being of a solid consistence, repel assaults and suffer nothing to penetrate them that can disunite their compact parts within, such as are the primary particles of matter, the nature of which we have already shown. Or they must be able to endure throughout all time because they are exempt from assaults, or unsusceptible of them, as is a vacuum, which remains intangible and suffers nothing from impact. Or they must be indestructible for this reason, that there is no sufficiency of space round about into which substances may, as it were, separate and be dissolved, as the entire universe is eternal, in as much as there is neither any space without it into which its parts may disperse, nor are there any bodies which may fall upon it and break it to pieces by violent concussion. But as I have demonstrated, neither is the nature of this world of a solid consistence, since, in all compound bodies, vacuity is mixed. Nor is it like vacuity itself. Nor again are bodies wanting which, rising fortuitously from the infinite of space, may overthrow the sum of things with the violent tempest, or bring upon it some other kind, whatever it may be, of disaster and danger. Nor moreover is vastness and profundity of space wanting into which the walls of the world may be scattered, or assaulted by some other kind of force may be dissolved. The gate of death, therefore, is not closed to the heaven, or to the sun, or to the earth, or to the deep waters of the sea, but stands open and looks back for them with a mighty and huge abyss. For which reason, since these existing things are dissolvable, you must necessarily allow that they are generated of indissoluble elements? For bodies which are of mortal consistence could not have been able from all eternity to condemn till now the strong assaults of infinite time. Furthermore, since the great divisions of the world are perpetually contending, and are stirred up in implacable warfare against each other, do you not see that some end to their long contest may be assigned? And this end may take place either when the sun and heat in general, having drunk up all the moisture, shall have become supreme. A consummation indeed which they endeavour to effect, but cannot yet accomplish their designs, so much to rivers supply and so constantly to the waters, threaten even of their own power to deluge all things from the deep gulf of the ocean. But their threats are vain. For winds sweeping the floods and the ethereal sun dispelling them with his rays, diminish their bulk, and seem to trust that they can dry up all things before the waters can attain the completion of their design. Maintaining so great a war, they persist to strive with one another for their great objects, and to contend as it seems with equal efforts. Though, as is reported, fire was once superior on the earth, and water once rained triumphant over the plains. For fire prevailed and burnt and consumed many parts when the curing and impetuous fury of the sun's horses hurried Phaethon through the whole heaven and over the entire earth. But the omnipotent father, incensed with fierce rage, hurled Phaethon from his chariot to the earth by the sudden stroke of a thunderbolt. And the sun meeting him as he fell, caught up the eternal lamp of the world, brought back his scattered horses, and yoked them trembling to the car, and guiding them in their own path which restored and reorganized all things. This, you must be aware, is the story which the poets of the Greeks sung, but which is too far removed from truth and reason. For fire may have the superiority when more atoms than usual of igneous matter have collected from the infinite of space, but afterwards its strength, being by some means repressed, necessarily subsides, else all things, burned up by a scorching atmosphere, would utterly perish. Once too, as tradition tells, water, having risen in a body, began to have the mastery, at which period it overwhelmed numbers of mankind with its waves. But subsequently, when its strength which had risen from the infinite profound was in some way turned aside and repelled, the rains came to a stand, and the rivers diminished their violence. Section 13 of On the Nature of Things. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mark Harrington. On the Nature of Things by Lucretius. Translated by John Selby Watson. Part 2. But I shall now proceed to relate, in due course, how the combination of matter established the heaven and the earth, the depths of the seas, and the revolutions of the sun and moon. For assuredly, neither the primary elements of things dispose themselves severally in their own order by wisdom or counsel arising from a sagacious understanding. Nor, certainly, did they argue among themselves what motions each should produce, but because the primordial atoms of the world, being many, were agitated by concussions, in many ways, through an infinite space of time, and were accustomed to be carried forward by their own weights, and to combine in all modes, and to try all efforts as if to a certain whichsoever of them, meeting together, might give birth to some offspring. It, from this cause, happens that, being spread abroad during a vast period of duration, and attempting all kinds of combinations and movements, those at length came together, which, having suddenly coalesced, became at first, and become now, from time to time, the commencements of great productions. The origin of the earth, the sea, and the heaven, and of every kind of living creatures. Here, at that time, could be seen neither the chariot of the sun, flying on high with its abundant light, nor the stars of the great firmament, nor the sea, nor the heaven, nor the earth, nor the air, nor could anything be discerned similar to our present objects, but only a certain crude agitation of matter, and a conjury swelling up together. Afterwards, the parts began to separate, and similar things began to be united with similar, and to evolve the world, and display its parts, and arrange in different members, which were generated from all kinds of primordial atoms, whose intervals, courses, connections, weights, impulses, combinations, and motions, discord, exciting war amongst them, from the disagreement of their forms, and the variety of their shapes, had disturbed, on which account they could not remain also united, or produce such suitable motions among themselves, as should lead to the objects which they were to affect, that is, to divide the high heaven from the earth, and to cause that the sea and other water should spread abroad separately, and that the stars of heaven should shine by themselves pure and distinct. For in the first place, the several atoms of earth, because they were heavy, and involved one with another, met altogether in the middle, and took, as it were, the lowest place, which atoms, the more closely they cohered, the more effectually they excluded from themselves those particles which would have formed the sea, the stars, the sun, and the moon, and the walls of this great world. For all these latter parts of nature consist of more smooth and round particles, and of atoms much more diminutive than the earth, and, accordingly, the fiery ether bursting forth from the several parts, through the small pores of the earth, first raised itself on high, and, being light, carried with it much fire, by a process similar to what we often witness, when, in the morning, the golden rays of the beaming sun first blush over the grass, gemmed with dew, and when the stagnant lakes and ever-flowing rivers exhale amiss, and earth itself sometimes appears to smoke, all which vapors, when they are united in the height above us, cover the heaven in an apparently condensed body. So, too, at that time, the light and expanded ether, diffused around in a united mass, collected itself, and, thus, being widely extended in every direction, enclosed all other things in its vast embrace. To this formation of the ether succeeded the rise of the sun and moon, and of those bodies whose orbs revolve in the air between both, bodies which neither the earth nor the vast ether attracted to itself, because they were neither so heavy as to sink down to the earth nor so light as to glide in the highest regions, and yet they so exist between both, that they revolve as active bodies and are a part of the entire world, as in our own bodies some members may remain at rest while others are still in motion. These substances, therefore, being withdrawn, the earth, where the vast blue region of the sea now spreads, suddenly sunk down, and hollowed out depths by means of the salt flood, and in proportion as, day after day, the surrounding tide of air, and the warm rays of the sun urged the earth, lying exposed, even to its extreme bounds, with frequent impulses. Those substances, therefore, being withdrawn, the earth, where the vast blue region of the sea now spreads, suddenly sunk down, and hollowed out depths by means of the salt flood, and in proportion as, day after day, the surrounding tide of air, and the warm rays of the sun urged the earth, lying exposed, even to its extreme bounds, with frequent impulses, so that, being thus acted upon, it might collect in condensation towards its own center, so much the more the salt fluid pressed out from its body, increased with its flood the sea and the liquid planes, and so much more the numerous particles of heat and air escaping forth from other substances flew upwards, and formed, afar from the earth, the lofty and shining temples of the sky. The planes sunk down, and the slopes of the high mountains increased, for such inequality was inevitable, as the rocks could neither subside, nor could all parts of the ground settle to the same level. Thus then, the heavy mass of the earth, with condensed bulk, stood firm, and all the heavy grossness of the world, as it were, collected to the bottom, and sunk down like the dregs into the deep. Then the sea, the air, and the fiery ether itself, which were of liquid consistency, were all left pure, and of these bodies some were lighter than others, and the ether, being of the greatest subtlety and levity, floats above the breezes of the air, nor allows its clear substance to mingle with the matters that disturbed the aerial regions. It leaves all these lower parts to be swept with violent whirlwinds. It leaves them to be disturbed with tumultuous storms, whilst itself, colliding with settled impulse, bears along its own fires. For that the ether may revolve thus steadily, and with uniform tenor, the flood in the uxine shows, which moves with a settled flux, preserving one unburied direction in its course. Let us now state what is the cause of the motion of the stars. In the first place, if the great orb of heaven whirls round, we must admit that the air presses and urges the sky on either side, and confines it externally, and encloses it in each direction. Then that another body of air flows over our heads and tends in the same direction in which the bright stars of the eternal world roll, and that there is still other air beneath our feet, which carries along the heaven in the opposite direction, as we see running streams turn wheels and buckets. It is likewise possible that the whole heaven may remain stationary, though the bright constellations are nevertheless born along, whether because active tides of ether are confined within the sky and seeking an outlet, whirl themselves round, and roll with them the stars through the vast regions of heaven, or whether air flowing from some quarter without wheels and impels the stars, or whether they of themselves can move forward, wither the sustenance of each attracts and invites them, while pursuing their course, and recruiting their igneous substances everywhere throughout the heavens. For which of these causes prevails in this world, it is difficult to lay down as certain, but I demonstrate only what is possible, and may be affected throughout the universe, in various worlds, formed in various ways, and seek to assign several causes for the motions of the stars, which causes may operate in different parts through the whole of things, but of which one must necessarily be this very cause that produces motion in our stars, though to decide which of them it is, is by no means the part of a man proceeding like myself cautiously, and step by step, and that the earth may rest in the middle part of the world, it is necessary that its weight should gradually, as it were, become evanescent and imperceptible, and that it should have another substance beneath it, united with it from its earliest age, and closely connected with the aerial parts of the world in which it was produced and continues to live. The earth is, therefore, no burden to the air, nor at all to presses it, just as his limbs are no burden to a man, and just as the head is no burden to the neck, nor do we feel the whole weight of the body press upon the feet, but whatever weights fall upon us, and are laid upon us externally, hurt or annoy us, although they are often far less than those which are within us, of so great importance it is to understand what one thing can affect by union with another. The earth, accordingly, was not brought into this world suddenly as a foreign body and cast from some other quarter upon air that was strange to it, but was produced together with the rest of the world, and as a regular part of it at its first origin, just as our members are seen to be formed with us. Besides the earth, when shaken with violent thunder, immediately shakes all things which are above it with its motion, an effect which it could by no means produce unless it were combined with the aerial parts of the world and with the heaven, for they cohere by common connections one with the other, conjoined and coalescing in union from the earliest period. Do you not observe also how exquisitely subtle a substance of the soul sustains the body, which is of great weight, simply because it is so closely united and combined with it? What power, too, but that of the soul which governs the limbs can raise the body with a vigorous leap from the ground? Do you now understand how much force a subtle substance may have when it is united with a heavy body as the air is joined with the earth and the power of the soul with ourselves? Nor can the circumference of the sun be much greater or its fire less than it appears to our senses. For from whatever distances fires can throw their rays and cast a warm heat upon our bodies, the ejection of the heat from those distances detracts nothing from the bulk of the igneous matter, and the fire is not all more contracted to the view. Since, therefore, the heat of the sun and its effused light reach to our senses and the parts about us shine with its rays, the form and outline of the sun must, on this account, appear as it really is so that you can add nothing more to it or make it less. And the moon, whether as she glides through the sky, she illuminates its regions with a borrowed light or whether she sends forth radiance from her own body, which so ever is the case she is as she pursues her course of no larger dimension than she appears to our eyes as we observe her. For all objects which, being far remote from us, we view through a large body of air, look confused in their appearance before their outline seems at all diminished. For which reason the moon, since it presents a clear shape and defined outline, as it does whenever its outmost edges are observed, must hence appear to us in the sky, just as large as it is. Further, whatsoever stars in the heavens you view from hence can assuredly be only very little less or only very little larger than they appear. Since of whatsoever fires we see on the earth, even whilst the motion of their light is plain and their glow is clearly perceived, the outline seems at times to vary in one way or another, contracting or expanding according as it is more or less distant. It is not, moreover, a matter of wonder how so small a body as the Sun can emit so large a quantity of light as to cover with its flood, the seas, the whole earth, and the heavens, and to pervade all things with its quickening heat. Since it is possible that one fountain of the light of the whole world opened from hence may flow forth abundantly and scatter its radiance abroad, because the atoms of heat we may suppose so meet together here from all parts of the world and their assemblage forms such a flood that all this heat may flow from one source. Four, do you not observe too how small a spring of water sometimes irrigates the meadows far and wide and flows exuberantly over the fields? It is also possible that heat may pervade the air with a strong glow from no very great fire in the Sun, if, per chance, the air be so tempered and disposed as to be excited to warmth, though affected with but gentle fervor, as we sometimes see fire from one spark spread in all directions among cornfields and straw. And perhaps the Sun shining on high with its rosy light contains about it much heat in secret stores of fire, which though it be distinguished by no brightness, yet retaining a glow increases the force of the rays to such a degree as we experience. Nor does the law of the Sun's motion appear plain and evident, nor is it demonstrable how he passes from his summer regions to the wintry part of his course in Capricorn and how, coming back from thence, he turns to the solstitial points, nor do we understand how the moon seems to traverse that space in each month in passing through which the Sun occupies the period of a year. A plain reason, I say, has not been assigned for these phenomena. For, in the first place, that appears possible which the venerable opinion of the philosopher Democritus asserts that the nearer each of the heavenly bodies is to the earth, the less swiftly can they be carried round by the revolution of the heaven, since the rapid and strong force of the upper sky decreases and loses its power beneath, and that, accordingly, the Sun, with the lower constellations following it, is gradually left behind because it is much beneath the fiery signs. Also, that the moon, from this same cause, falls back so much the more, for the more distant its course, being lower, is from the heaven and approaches to the earth, the less can it exert its swiftness with the signs. Since the more gentle is the speed with which the moon, being lower than the Sun, is born along, the more easily all the signs around overtake it and are carried past it. Hence it happens that the moon seems to return more quickly to each sign because the signs return towards it. It is possible also that two currents of air, at a certain season, may blow in turns from opposite quarters of the world, of which currents one may be that which drives the Sun from the summer signs into the winter part of his course and into freezing cold, and the other may be that which sends him back from the freezing shades of cold into the warm regions and glowing constellations. And, in like manner, we may suppose that the moon and the stars, which revolve for long years in vast orbits, may move by means of two currents of air in opposite directions. Do you not notice also that clouds, by means of opposite winds, go in different ways, the lower contrary to the upper? And why, therefore, may not these heavenly bodies be born through the vast circuits of the sky by currents opposed to each other? The reason why night covers the earth with its great darkness is either because the light grows weak when the sun, after his long course, has reached the extremity of the heaven and has sent forth his fires languidly as being exhausted with the journey and wasted by passing through a long tract of air, or because the same force, which carried the solar orb above the earth, compels it to turn its course beneath the earth. Matuta, also, the goddess of the morning, leads forth the rosy aurora and spreads abroad the light at a certain hour, either because the same sun, which was under the earth, returning again, aspires to the heaven, proceeding to enlighten it with his rays, or because at that particular time, bodies of fire congregate and many atoms of heat are accustomed to meet in confluence, which cause a new light of the sun to be perpetually produced. Thus it is said that from the lofty hills of Aida, the rays of the sun, when his light rises in the east, are seen dispersed and that they afterwards collect, as it were, into one body and form a complete orb. Nor ought it, in such phenomena, to be a subject of wonder that these atoms of fire can thus flow together and renew the splendor of the sun at a certain time, for we observe many other things which take place at a certain time in all departments of nature. The groves flourish at a certain time and at a certain time drop their verger. At a certain time also age directs the teeth to be shed and causes the immature youth to bloom with soft down and to let the flexible beard, too, descend from his cheeks. Lightnings, moreover, snow, rain, cloudy weather and winds, take place at seasons of the year by no means uncertain. For since the first commencement of causes thus arose and the affairs of the world thus proceeded as at present from their earliest origin, every event is a consequence in the unvarying course of things. That the days also increase while the nights grow shorter and that the days are diminished in length when the nights become augmented may possibly happen, either because the same sun revolving below and above the earth divides the regions of the air with unequal curves and distinguishes the orb of heaven into dissimilar parts, while whatever it has taken from one part of it, it adds as it revolves just so much to the opposite part until it has come to that sign in the heavens where the node of the year makes the darkness of night equal to the light of day. For the heaven has two separate points at equal distances where the courses of the north wind and the south meet owing to the position of the whole circle of the zodiac in which the revolving sun consumes the period of the year illuminating the earth and the sky with oblique light. As the system of those declares who have observed that whole region of the heaven which is distinguished by the array of the twelve signs, or because the air is denser in certain parts the tremulous rays of light are therefore retarded and cannot easily penetrate it and emerge to the dawn, for which reason the nights in the winter delay long until the bright herald of day returns, or again because at alternate seasons of the year the atoms of flame which cause the sun to rise in a particular part of the heavens at a particular time are accustomed to congregate slower or faster. As for the moon she may shine because she is struck with the rays of the sun and may turn towards us every day a larger portion of light in her aspect as she receives farther from the sun's orb until being opposite to him she has shone forth with full of splendor and rising on high in the east has be held his setting in the west thence also retiring backwards she may as it were hide her light gradually as she approaches from the opposite side along the circle of the zodiac nearer to the sun's radiance as those philosophers suppose who make the moon to be in shape like a ball and to pursue her path of revolution beneath the sun and hence it happens that they seem to say what is true there is also a hypothesis by which the moon may revolve and present various phases of brightness with her own light for it is possible that there may be another body which moves and advances together with her and which in every way obstructs and hinders her light but nevertheless cannot be seen as it passes along in total darkness and the moon may possibly revolve upon her axis like a ball tinged with shining light only on one side and may by turning her orb present to us her various phases thus progressively she turns that part which is illuminated so as to be hold us with a full aspect and open eye then by degrees she turns away and removes from us the brilliant side of her orb as indeed the Babylonian doctrine of the Caldeans taught which refuting the method of the Greek astrologers labors to support this hypothesis in opposition to it just as if that for which each contends might not be true or as if there were any reason why you should choose to embrace one opinion less than the other further when you see so many things produced in a certain order it is difficult to demonstrate by reason and to events by argument why a new moon may not be generated every day with a certain succession of phases and figures and each moon as it die urnally arises die urnally decay and another be reproduced in its place and station for the spring and venus begin their course and the winged Zephyr the harbinger of spring walks before near who's footsteps maternal flora preparing the way covers the whole path with richest flowers and perfumes next follows scorching summer and dusty series closely attended on her and the Ateesian breezes of the northern winds then succeeds autumn together with whom advances Bacchus then follow other weather and other winds the loud resounding southeast and the south fraught with thunder at length cold brings on snows and spreads abroad be numbing chillness and winter comes after and frost chattering with his teeth since therefore so many things may occur at a certain time it is the less surprising if the moon is at a certain time produced and at a certain time decays as for the eclipses of the Sun and occultations of the moon you must suppose that they may arise from various causes for as you perhaps ask why should the moon only be thought able to shut out the world from light and to oppose her high head to it on the side of the earth uptending her dark orb to the Sun's glowing rays and not some other body which may always revolve devoid of light be considered able to produce such an effect at the same time and why also may not the Sun at a certain time sent forth his radiance languidly and again renew his splendor when in his passage through the air he has passed by certain places which we may suppose are hurtful to his beams and which causes fires to be suppressed and extinguished and why should the earth have power in its turn to deprive the moon of light and passing itself above to keep the Sun shut out from her while she passes monthly through the dense coniform shadow and why should not some other body be able at that time to pass beneath the moon or to glide over the orb of the Sun which body may intercept from her his effulgent rays and spreading light and still if the moon shines herself by her own brightness why may she not grow dim in a certain part of the world while she passes through regions noxious to her light for what remains since i have shown how everything may occur in the blue sky of our vast world in order that we might understand what power and causes might produce the varied course of the Sun and the wanderings of the moon and by what means they are accustomed to have their light obstructed and eclipsed and to spread sudden darkness over the earth when they shut their eyes as it were for a time and then having opened them again cover every fair region with shining light i now return to the early age of the world and the tender fields of earth to consider what kind of productions they first ventured with their new power of generation to raise into the regions of light and to commit to uncertain winds in the beginning then the earth spread over the hills the growth of herbs and the beauty of verger and the flowery fields throughout all regions shown with a green hue and then was given to the various kinds of trees full power of shooting upwards through the air four as feathers and hairs and bristles are first produced over the limbs of quadrupeds and the bodies of the winged tribes so the new earth then first put forth herbs and trees and afterwards generated the numerous races of animals which arose in various forms and by various modes for animals that were to live on the earth could assuredly neither have fallen from the sky nor have come forth from the salt depths of the sea it remains therefore to believe that the earth must justly have obtained the name of mother since from the earth all living creatures were born and even now many animals spring forth from the earth which are generated by means of moisture and the quickening heat of the sun it is accordingly less wonderful if at the same time creatures more numerous and of larger size arose and came to maturity while the earth and the air were yet fresh and vigorous first of all the race of winged animals and the variegated birds left their eggs being excluded in the season of spring as grasshoppers in these days spontaneously leave their thin coats in the summer proceeding to seek sustenance and life next be assured the earth produced for the first time the tribes of men and beasts for much heat and moisture abounded through the plains and hence where any suitable region offered itself a kind of wombs sprung up adhering to the earth by fibers these when the age of the infants within them at the season of maturity had opened escaping from their moist enclosure and seeking for air nature in those places prepared the pores of the earth and forced it to pour from its open veins a liquid like milk just as every woman at present when she has brought forth is stored with sweet milk because all the strength of the food is directed to the breasts thus the earth afforded nourishment to the infants the warmth rendered a garment unnecessary and the grass supplied a couch abounding with luxuriant and tender down but the early age of the world gave forth neither severe cold nor extraordinary heat nor winds of impetuous violence for all these alike increase and acquire strength by time for which cause I say again and again the earth has justly acquired and justly retains the name of mother since she herself brought forth the race of men and produced at this certain time almost every kind of animal which exalts over the vast mountains and the birds of the air at the same period with all their varied forms but because she must necessarily have some termination to bearing she ceased like a woman exhausted by length of time for lapse of time changes the nature of the whole world and one condition after another must succeed to all things nor does any being continue always like itself all is unsettled nature alters and appels everything to change for one thing decays and grown week through age languages another again grows up and burst forth from contempt thus age changes the nature of the whole world and one condition after another falls upon the earth so that what she could once bear she can no longer while she can bear what she did not bear of old the earth also in that age made efforts to produce various monsters that sprung up with wonderful faces and limbs the hermaphrodite between both sexes and not either but removed from both others wanting feet and others destitute of hands some also were found dumb for want of a mouth and some blind without even a face and others again were shackled by the cohesion of their limbs over their whole bodies so that they could neither do anything nor go in any direction could neither avoid harm nor take what was necessary to preserve life other prodigies importance of this kind she generated but to no purpose for nature abhorred and prevented their increase nor could they reach the desired maturity of age or find nutriment or be united in the pleasures of love for we see that many circumstances must concur with other circumstances in order that living creatures may be able to produce their kinds by propagation first it is necessary that there be food then that there be genial semen throughout the organs which may flow when the limbs are relaxed in union and likewise for the female to be united with the male they must both have correspondent members by which each may combine in mutual delight with the other many kinds of animal life too must then have perished not having been able to continue their species by propagation for whatever creatures you see breathing the vital air assuredly either craft or courage or at least activity has preserved and defended their race from the commencement of its existence and there are many which from the usefulness to mankind remain as it were entrusted to us and committed to our guardianship in the first place courage has protected the fierce brood of lions and the savage races of other wild animals and craft has secured the fox as swiftness has saved the stag but the light slumbering breed of dogs with their faithful affections and all the various species of horses and the woolly flocks too and horned cattle all these my dear memios are committed to the protection of man for they have anxiously avoided wild beasts and have sought peace and plenty of subsistence has been provided for them without labor of theirs which subsistence we secure to them as a reward in return for their service but of those to whom nature has given no such qualities that they should either be able to live of themselves or to afford us any service why should we suffer the races to be maintained and protected by our support indeed all these rendered helpless by their own fatal bonds were exposed as a prey and a prize to other animals until nature brought their whole species to destruction but centaurs and such creatures there neither were nor ever can be for there can never exist an animal formed of a double nature and of two bodies an animal made up of such heterogeneous members that the power in the opposite portions of the frame cannot possibly be equal this you may learn with however dull an understanding from the following observations first the horse when three years of his age of past is flourishing in full vigor the boy at this time of life is by no means so but will even often seek in his sleep the milky teats of his mother's breast afterwards when in old age his lusty vigor and stout limbs are failing the horse growing torpid as life is departing behold at that very period the young man's age being in its flower youth prevails in him and closed his cheeks with soft down so that you cannot possibly imagine that centaurs can be composed or consist of a man and the servile seed of a horse or that there can be skill eye of half marine bodies kink chured with fierce dogs or other monsters of this sort whose parts we observe to be incompatible with each other parts which neither grow up together in their bodies nor acquire vigor together nor lose their strength together in old age and which are neither excited by the same objects of affection nor agree with the same tempers nor find that the same kinds of food are nutritious to their bodies for you may observe that bearded goats often grow fat on hemlock which to men is rank poison since two the flame of fire is accustomed to scorch and burn up the tawny bodies of lions as well as every kind of creature on earth that consists of flesh and blood how was it possible that a chimera one animal compounded of three bodies the four part a lion the hinder a dragon the middle a goat could blow abroad at its mouth a fierce flame out of its body for which reason he who supposes that such animals might have been produced even when the earth was new and the air fresh leaning for argument only on this empty term of newness may babble with equal reason many other hypotheses of a like nature he may say that rivers of gold then flowed everywhere over the earth and that the groves were accustomed to blossom with jewels or that men were formed with such power and bulk of limbs that they could extend their steps over the deep seas and turn the whole heaven around them with their hands for though at the time when the earth first produced animal life there were innumerable seeds of things in the ground this is yet no proof that creatures could have been generated of mixed natures and that heterogeneous members of animals could have been blended together since the various kinds of herbs and fruits and rich groves which even now spring up exuberantly from the earth can nevertheless not be produced with a union of different kinds but they can readily be produced if each proceeds in its own order and all preserve their distinctions according to the fixed law of nature end of section 14