And so in the vessel of the head, they first of all put a face in which
they inserted organs to minister in all things to the providence of the
soul, and they appointed this part, which has authority, to be by nature
the part which is in front. And of the organs they first contrived the
eyes to give light, and the principle according to which they were inserted
was as follows: So much of fire as would not burn, but gave a gentle light,
they formed into a substance akin to the light of every-day life; and the
pure fire which is within us and related thereto they made to flow through
the eyes in a stream smooth and dense, compressing the whole eye, and especially
the centre part, so that it kept out everything of a coarser nature, and
allowed to pass only this pure element. When the light of day surrounds
the stream of vision, then like falls upon like, and they coalesce, and
one body is formed by natural affinity in the line of vision, wherever
the light that falls from within meets with an external object. And the
whole stream of vision, being similarly affected in virtue of similarity,
diffuses the motions of what it touches or what touches it over the whole
body, until they reach the soul, causing that perception which we call
sight.
But when night comes on and the external and kindred fire departs, then
the stream of vision is cut off; for going forth to an unlike element it
is changed and extinguished, being no longer of one nature with the surrounding
atmosphere which is now deprived of fire: and so the eye no longer sees,
and we feel disposed to sleep. For when the eyelids, which the gods invented
for the preservation of sight, are closed, they keep in the internal fire;
and the power of the fire diffuses and equalises the inward motions; when
they are equalised, there is rest, and when the rest is profound, sleep
comes over us scarce disturbed by dreams; but where the greater motions
still remain, of whatever nature and in whatever locality, they engender
corresponding visions in dreams, which are remembered by us when we are
awake and in the external world. And now there is no longer any difficulty
in understanding the creation of images in mirrors and all smooth and bright
surfaces. For from the communion of the internal and external fires, and
again from the union of them and their numerous transformations when they
meet in the mirror, all these appearances of necessity arise, when the
fire from the face coalesces with the fire from the eye on the bright and
smooth surface. And right appears left and left right, because the visual
rays come into contact with the rays emitted by the object in a manner
contrary to the usual mode of meeting; but the right appears right, and
the left left, when the position of one of the two concurring lights is
reversed; and this happens when the mirror is concave and its smooth surface
repels the right stream of vision to the left side, and the left to the
right.
Or if the mirror be turned vertically, then the concavity makes the
countenance appear to be all upside down, and the lower rays are driven
upwards and the upper downwards. All these are to be reckoned among the
second and co-operative causes which God, carrying into execution the idea
of the best as far as possible, uses as his ministers. They are thought
by most men not to be the second, but the prime causes of all things, because
they freeze and heat, and contract and dilate, and the like. But they are
not so, for they are incapable of reason or intellect; the only being which
can properly have mind is the invisible soul, whereas fire and water, and
earth and air, are all of them visible bodies. The lover of intellect and
knowledge ought to explore causes of intelligent nature first of all, and,
secondly, of those things which, being moved by others, are compelled to
move others. And this is what we too must do. Both kinds of causes should
be acknowledged by us, but a distinction should be made between those which
are endowed with mind and are the workers of things fair and good, and
those which are deprived of intelligence and always produce chance effects
without order or design. Of the second or co-operative causes of sight,
which help to give to the eyes the power which they now possess, enough
has been said. I will therefore now proceed to speak of the higher use
and purpose for which God has given them to us.
The sight in my opinion is the source of the greatest benefit to us,
for had we never seen the stars, and the sun, and the heaven, none of the
words which we have spoken about the universe would ever have been uttered.
But now the sight of day and night, and the months and the revolutions
of the years, have created number, and have given us a conception of time,
and the power of enquiring about the nature of the universe; and from this
source we have derived philosophy, than which no greater good ever was
or will be given by the gods to mortal man. This is the greatest boon of
sight: and of the lesser benefits why should I speak? even the ordinary
man if he were deprived of them would bewail his loss, but in vain. Thus
much let me say however: God invented and gave us sight to the end that
we might behold the courses of intelligence in the heaven, and apply them
to the courses of our own intelligence which are akin to them, the unperturbed
to the perturbed; and that we, learning them and partaking of the natural
truth of reason, might imitate the absolutely unerring courses of God and
regulate our own vagaries.
The same may be affirmed of speech and hearing: they have been given
by the gods to the same end and for a like reason. For this is the principal
end of speech, whereto it most contributes. Moreover, so much of music
as is adapted to the sound of the voice and to the sense of hearing is
granted to us for the sake of harmony; and harmony, which has motions akin
to the revolutions of our souls, is not regarded by the intelligent votary
of the Muses as given by them with a view to irrational pleasure, which
is deemed to be the purpose of it in our day, but as meant to correct any
discord which may have arisen in the courses of the soul, and to be our
ally in bringing her into harmony and agreement with herself; and rhythm
too was given by them for the same reason, on account of the irregular
and graceless ways which prevail among mankind generally, and to help us
against them. Thus far in what we have been saying, with small exception,
the works of intelligence have been set forth; and now we must place by
the side of them in our discourse the things which come into being through
necessity-for the creation is mixed, being made up of necessity and mind.
Mind, the ruling power, persuaded necessity to bring the greater part of
created things to perfection, and thus and after this manner in the beginning,
when the influence of reason got the better of necessity, the universe
was created.
But if a person will truly tell of the way in which the work was accomplished,
he must include the other influence of the variable cause as well. Wherefore,
we must return again and find another suitable beginning, as about the
former matters, so also about these. To which end we must consider the
nature of fire, and water, and air, and earth, such as they were prior
to the creation of the heaven, and what was happening to them in this previous
state; for no one has as yet explained the manner of their generation,
but we speak of fire and the rest of them, whatever they mean, as though
men knew their natures, and we maintain them to be the first principles
and letters or elements of the whole, when they cannot reasonably be compared
by a man of any sense even to syllables or first compounds. And let me
say thus much: I will not now speak of the first principle or principles
of all things, or by whatever name they are to be called, for this reason-because
it is difficult to set forth my opinion according to the method of discussion
which we are at present employing.
Do not imagine, any more than I can bring myself to imagine, that I
should be right in undertaking so great and difficult a task. Remembering
what I said at first about probability, I will do my best to give as probable
an explanation as any other-or rather, more probable; and I will first
go back to the beginning and try to speak of each thing and of all. Once
more, then, at the commencement of my discourse, I call upon God, and beg
him to be our saviour out of a strange and unwonted enquiry, and to bring
us to the haven of probability. So now let us begin again. This new beginning
of our discussion of the universe requires a fuller division than the former;
for then we made two classes, now a third must be revealed. The two sufficed
for the former discussion: one, which we assumed, was a pattern intelligible
and always the same; and the second was only the imitation of the pattern,
generated and visible. There is also a third kind which we did not distinguish
at the time, conceiving that the two would be enough. But now the argument
seems to require that we should set forth in words another kind, which
is difficult of explanation and dimly seen. What nature are we to attribute
to this new kind of being? We reply, that it is the receptacle, and in
a manner the nurse, of all generation. I have spoken the truth; but I must
express myself in clearer language, and this will be an arduous task for
many reasons, and in particular because I must first raise questions concerning
fire and the other elements, and determine what each of them is; for to
say, with any probability or certitude, which of them should be called
water rather than fire, and which should be called any of them rather than
all or some one of them, is a difficult matter.
How, then, shall we settle this point, and what questions about the
elements may be fairly raised? In the first place, we see that what we
just now called water, by condensation, I suppose, becomes stone and earth;
and this same element, when melted and dispersed, passes into vapour and
air. Air, again, when inflamed, becomes fire; and again fire, when condensed
and extinguished, passes once more into the form of air; and once more,
air, when collected and condensed, produces cloud and mist; and from these,
when still more compressed, comes flowing water, and from water comes earth
and stones once more; and thus generation appears to be transmitted from
one to the other in a circle. Thus, then, as the several elements never
present themselves in the same form, how can any one have the assurance
to assert positively that any of them, whatever it may be, is one thing
rather than another? No one can.
But much the safest plan is to speak of them as follows:-Anything which
we see to be continually changing, as, for example, fire, we must not call
"this" or "that," but rather say that it is "of
such a nature"; nor let us speak of water as "this"; but
always as "such"; nor must we imply that there is any stability
in any of those things which we indicate by the use of the words "this"
and "that," supposing ourselves to signify something thereby;
for they are too volatile to be detained in any such expressions as "this,"
or "that," or "relative to this," or any other mode
of speaking which represents them as permanent. We ought not to apply "this"
to any of them, but rather the word "such"; which expresses the
similar principle circulating in each and all of them; for example, that
should be called "fire" which is of such a nature always, and
so of everything that has generation. That in which the elements severally
grow up, and appear, and decay, is alone to be called by the name "this"
or "that"; but that which is of a certain nature, hot or white,
or anything which admits of opposite equalities, and all things that are
compounded of them, ought not to be so denominated. Let me make another
attempt to explain my meaning more clearly. Suppose a person to make all
kinds of figures of gold and to be always transmuting one form into all
the rest-somebody points to one of them and asks what it is. By far the
safest and truest answer is, That is gold; and not to call the triangle
or any other figures which are formed in the gold "these," as
though they had existence, since they are in process of change while he
is making the assertion; but if the questioner be willing to take the safe
and indefinite expression, "such," we should be satisfied.
And the same argument applies to the universal nature which receives
all bodies-that must be always called the same; for, while receiving all
things, she never departs at all from her own nature, and never in any
way, or at any time, assumes a form like that of any of the things which
enter into her; she is the natural recipient of all impressions, and is
stirred and informed by them, and appears different from time to time by
reason of them. But the forms which enter into and go out of her are the
likenesses of real existences modelled after their patterns in wonderful
and inexplicable manner, which we will hereafter investigate. For the present
we have only to conceive of three natures: first, that which is in process
of generation; secondly, that in which the generation takes place; and
thirdly, that of which the thing generated is a resemblance. And we may
liken the receiving principle to a mother, and the source or spring to
a father, and the intermediate nature to a child; and may remark further,
that if the model is to take every variety of form, then the matter in
which the model is fashioned will not be duly prepared, unless it is formless,
and free from the impress of any of these shapes which it is hereafter
to receive from without. For if the matter were like any of the supervening
forms, then whenever any opposite or entirely different nature was stamped
upon its surface, it would take the impression badly, because it would
intrude its own shape.
Wherefore, that which is to receive all forms should have no form; as
in making perfumes they first contrive that the liquid substance which
is to receive the scent shall be as inodorous as possible; or as those
who wish to impress figures on soft substances do not allow any previous
impression to remain, but begin by making the surface as even and smooth
as possible. In the same way that which is to receive perpetually and through
its whole extent the resemblances of all eternal beings ought to be devoid
of any particular form. Wherefore, the mother and receptacle of all created
and visible and in any way sensible things, is not to be termed earth,
or air, or fire, or water, or any of their compounds or any of the elements
from which these are derived, but is an invisible and formless being which
receives all things and in some mysterious way partakes of the intelligible,
and is most incomprehensible. In saying this we shall not be far wrong;
as far, however, as we can attain to a knowledge of her from the previous
considerations, we may truly say that fire is that part of her nature which
from time to time is inflamed, and water that which is moistened, and that
the mother substance becomes earth and air, in so far as she receives the
impressions of them.
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