Fragments of Thought of Empedokles

Empedokles

FRAGMENTS

BOOK I.

And do thou give ear, Pausanias, son of Anchitos the wise:

For straitened are the powers with which their bodily parts are endowed, and many are the woes that burst in on them and blunt the edge of their careful thoughts! They behold but a brief span of a life that is no life, and, doomed to swift death, are borne away and fly off like smoke. Each is convinced of that alone which he has chanced upon as he is hurried to and fro; and idly fancies he has found the whole. So hardly can these things be seen by the eyes or heard by the ears of men, so hardly grasped by their mind! Thou, then, since thou hast found thy way hither, shalt learn no more than mortal mind has seen. R.P. 130.

But, O ye gods, turn aside from my tongue the madness of those men. Hallow my lips and make a pure stream flow from them! And thee, much-wooed, white-armed Virgin Muse, do I beseech, that I may hear what is lawful for the children of a day! Speed me on my way from the abode of Holiness and drive my willing car! Constrain me not to win garlands of honour and glory at the hands of mortals on condition of speaking in my pride beyond that which is lawful and right, and only so to gain a seat upon the heights of wisdom. R. P. ib.

Go to now, consider with all thy powers in what way each thing is clear. Hold nothing that thou seest in greater credit than what thou hearest, nor value thy resounding ear above the clear instructions of thy tongue; and do not withhold thy confidence in any of thy other bodily parts by which there is an opening for understanding, but consider everything in the way it is clear. R.P. ib.

And thou shalt learn all the drugs that are a defence against ills and old age, since for thee alone shall I accomplish all this. Thou shalt arrest the violence of the weariless winds that arise and sweep the earth, laying waste the corn-fields with their breath; and again, when thou so desirest, thou shalt bring their blasts back again with a rush. Thou shalt cause for men a seasonable drought after the dark rains, and again after the summer drought thou shalt produce the streams that feed the trees as they pour down from the sky. Thou shalt bring back from Hades the life of a dead man.

Hear first the four roots of all things: shining Zeus, life-bringing Hera, Aidoneus, and Nestis dripping with tears, the well-spring of mortals. R.P. 131 A.

And I shall tell thee another thing. There is no coming into being of aught that perishes, nor any end for it in baneful death; but only mingling and separation of what has been mingled. Coming into being is but a name given to these by men. R.P. 131 B.

But, when the elements have been mingled in the fashion of a man and come to the light of day, or in the fashion of the race of wild beasts or plants or birds, then men say that these come into being; and when they are separated, they call that, as is the custom, woeful death. I too follow the custom, and call it so myself.

Fools!—for they have no far-reaching thoughts—who deem that what before was not comes into being, or that aught can perish and be utterly destroyed. For it cannot be that aught can arise from what in no way is, and it is impossible and unheard of that what is should perish; for it will always be, wherever one may keep putting it. R.P. 131d.

A man who is wise in such matters would never surmise in his heart that, so long as mortals live what men choose to call their life, they are, and suffer good and ill; while, before they were formed and after they have been dissolved they are, it seems, nothing at all. R. P. ib.

But it is ever the way of low minds to disbelieve the better sayings. Do thou learn as the sure testimonies of my Muse bid thee, and divide the argument in thy heart.

. . . Joining one choice argument to another, not to finish one path . . . for what is right may well be said even twice.

I shall tell thee a twofold tale. At one time things grew to be one only out of many; at another, that divided up to be many instead of one. There is a double becoming of perishable things and a double passing away. The coming together of all things brings one generation into being and destroys it; the other grows up and is scattered as things become divided. And these things never cease continually changing places, at one time all uniting in one through Love, at another each borne in different directions by the repulsion of Strife. Thus, as far as it is their nature to grow into one out of many, and to become many once more when the one is parted asunder, so far they come into being and their life abides not. But, inasmuch as they never cease changing their places continually, so far they are immovable as they go round the circle of existence. R. P. 132.

But come, hearken to my words, for it is learning that increaseth wisdom. As I said before, when I declared the heads of my discourse, I shall tell thee a twofold tale. At one time things grew together to be one only out of many, at another they parted asunder so as to be many instead of one;—Fire and Water and Earth and the mighty height of Air, dead Strife, too, apart from these and balancing every one of them, and have among them, their equal in length and breadth. Her do thou contemplate with thy mind, nor sit with dazed eyes. It is she that is deemed to be implanted in the frame of mortals. It is she that makes them have kindly thoughts and work the works of peace. They call her by the names of Joy and Aphrodite. Her has no mortal yet marked moving among the gods, but do thou attend to the undeceitful ordering of my discourse. R. P. 132.

For all these are equal and alike in age, yet each has a different prerogative and its own peculiar nature. And nothing comes into being besides these, nor do they pass away; for, if they had been passing away continually, they would not be now. R.P. 132.

Nor is any part of the whole empty. Whence, then, could aught come to increase it? Where, too, could these things perish, since no place is empty of them? They are what they are; but, running through one another, different things continually come into being from different sources, yet ever alike. R. P. 132.

Come now, look at the things that bear virtues to my earlier discourse, if so be that there was any form left out in the earlier list. Behold the sun, everywhere bright and warm, and all the immortal things that are bathed in its heat and bright radiance. Behold the rain, everywhere dark and cold; and from the earth issue forth things close-pressed and solid. When they are in strife all these are different in form and separated; but they come together in love, and are desired by one another. R. P. 132.

For out of these have sprung all things that were and are and shall be,—trees and men and women, beasts and birds and the fishes that dwell in the waters, yea, and the gods that live long lives and are exalted in honour. R.P. 132i.

For these things are what they are; but, running through one another, they take different shapes—so much does mixture change them. R.P. 132g.

For, of a truth, they (i.e. Love and Strife) were aforetime and shall be; nor ever, methinks, will boundless time be emptied of that pair. And they prevail in turn as the circle comes round, and pass away before one another, and increase in their appointed turn. R.P. 132c.

For these things are what they are; but, running through one another, they become men and the other races of mortal creatures. At one time they are brought together into one order by Love; at another, again, they are carried each in different directions by the repulsion of Strife, till once more they grow into one and are wholly subdued.

Just as when painters are elaborating temple-offerings, men whom Metis has well taught their art,—they, when they have taken pigments of many colours with their hands, mix them in a harmony, more of some and less of others, and from them produce shapes like unto all things, making trees and men and women, beasts and birds and fishes that dwell in the waters, yea, and gods, that live long lives, and are exalted in honour,—so let not the error prevail over thy mind, that there is any other source of all the perishable creatures that appear in countless numbers. Know this for sure, for thou hast heard the tale from a goddess.

Come, I shall now tell thee first of all the beginning of the sun, and the sources from which have sprung all the things we now behold, the earth and the billowy sea, the damp mist and the Titan air that binds his circle fast round all things. R.P. 135a.

It was spherical . . . naught of the whole was empty and naught superfluous.

In it is distinguished neither the bright form of the sun, no, nor the shaggy earth in its might, nor the sea,—so fast was the god bound in the close covering of Harmony, spherical and round, rejoicing in his circular rest. R.P. 133 A.

But when Strife was grown great in the limbs of the god and sprang forth to claim his prerogatives, in the fulness of the alternate time set for them by the mighty oath, for all the limbs of the god in turn quaked. R. P. 133 A and B.

[Everything heavy and everything light it (Strife) separated apart. R. P. 133e.]

. . . Without affection and incapable of mixing
 . . . The heaped up mass . . .

If the depths of the earth and the vast air were infinite, a foolish saying which has been vainly dropped from the lips of many mortals, though they have seen but a little of the All. . . . R.P. 86b.

The sharp-darting sun and the gentle moon. But (the sunlight) is gathered together and circles round the mighty heavens.

It flashes back to Olympos with untroubled countenance. R.P. 135c.

But the gentle flame (of the eye) has but a scanty portion of earth.

Even so the sunbeam, having struck the broad and mighty circle of the moon, returns at once, running so as to reach the sky.

It circles round the earth, a borrowed light, as on the track of a car.

For she gazes at the sacred circle of the lordly sun opposite.

And she scatters his rays away into the sky above, and casts a shadow on as much of the earth as is the breadth of the pale-faced moon.

It is the earth that makes night by coming before the lights
 . . . of deserted, blind-eyed night.
And many fires burn beneath the earth.
The sea with its silly tribe of fertile fish.
Salt was solidified by the impact of the sun’s beams.
Sea, the sweat of the earth. . . . R.P. 135b.

But the air sunk down upon the earth with its long roots; for thus it chanced to be running at that time, though often it runs otherwise. R. P. 135d.

(Fire) swiftly rushing upwards. . . .

But now I shall retrace my steps over the paths of song that I have travelled before, drawing from my saying a new saying. When Strife was fallen to the lowest depth of the vortex, and Love had reached to the centre of the whirl, in it do all things come together so as to be one only; not all at once, but coming together gradually each from different quarters; and, as they came together, Strife retired to the extreme boundary. Yet many things remained unmixed, alternating with the things that were being mixed, namely, all that Strife not fallen yet retained; for it had not yet altogether retired perfectly to the outermost boundaries of the circle. Some of its members still remained within, and some had passed out. But in proportion as it kept rushing out, a soft, immortal stream of blameless Love kept running in, and straightway those things became mortal which had been immortal before, those things were mixed that had been unmixed, each changing its path. And, as they were mingled, countless tribes of mortal creatures were scattered abroad endowed with all manner of forms, a wonder to behold. R.P. 134.

For all of them—sun, earth, sky, and sea,—fit in with all the parts of themselves, the friendly parts which are separated off in perishable things. In the same way, all those things that are more adapted for mixture, are united to one another in Love, made like by the power of Aphrodite. But they themselves (i.e. the elements) differ as far as possible in their origin and mixture and the forms imprinted on each, being altogether unaccustomed to come together, and very hostile, under the influence of Strife, since it has wrought their birth.

Thus all things have thought by the will of fortune. . . . And, inasmuch as the rarest things came together in their fall. . . .

Fire is increased by Fire, Earth increases its own mass, and Air swells the bulk of Air.

And the kindly earth in its well-wrought ovens received two parts of shining Nestis out of the eight, and four of Hephaistos; and they became white bones, divinely fitted together by the cements of Harmony. R.P. 138c.

And the earth meets with these in nearly equal proportions, with Hephaistos and Water and shining Air, anchoring in the perfect haven of Kypris,—either a little more of it, or less of it and more of them. From these did blood arise and the various forms of flesh. R.P. 138c.

(As a baker) cementing barley-meal with water. . . .
 . . . tenacious Love. . . .

BOOK II.

But if your assurance of these things was in any way deficient as to how, out of Water and Earth and Air and Fire mingled together, arose the colours and forms of all those mortal things that have been fitted together by Aphrodite, and so are now come into being, how both tall trees and the fishes of the sea (arose). . . .

And even as at that time Kypris, plying her pleasant task, after she had moistened the Earth in water, gave it to swift fire to harden it. R. P. 135d.

All of those which are dense within and rare without, having received a moisture of this kind at the hands of Kypris . . .

And so tall trees bear eggs, first of all olives. . . .
Wherefore late-born pomegranates and blooming apples . . .
Wine is the water putrefied in the wood, under the bark.

For, if thou takest them (trees and plants) to the close recesses of thy heart and watchest over them kindly with faultless care, then thou shalt have all these things in abundance throughout thy life, and thou shalt gain many others from them; for each grows ever true to its own character, according as its nature is. But if thou strivest after things of a different kind, as is the way with men, ten thousand woes await thee to blunt thy careful thoughts· All at once they will cease to live when the time comes round, desiring each to reach its own kind; for know that all things have wisdom and a share of thought.

Love hates necessity.

This thou mayest see in the heavy-backed shell-fish that dwell in the sea, in maenae and buccinia and the stony-skinned turtles. In them thou mayest see that the earthy part dwells on the uppermost surface.

Hair and leaves, and the thick feathers of birds, and the scales that grow on mighty limbs, are the same thing.

But the hair of hedgehogs is sharp-pointed and bristles on their backs.

. . . Out of which (Fire and Water) divine Aphrodite fashioned unwearying eyes . . . Aphrodite working them together with the rivets of love . . . since they first grew together in the hands of Kypris.

. . . the liver full of blood.

It (Love) made many heads spring up without necks, and arms wandered bare and bereft of shoulders. Eyes strayed up and down in want of foreheads. R.P. 137a.

. . . this marvellous mass of mortal limbs. At one time all the limbs that are the body’s portion are brought together into one by Love, and flourish in the high season of life; and again, at another time they are severed by cruel Strife, and wander each in different directions by the breakers of the sea of life. It is the same with shrubs and the fish that make their homes in the waters, the beasts that make their lairs in the hills, and the birds that sail on wings. R.P. 137a.

But, as divinity was mingled still further with divinity, these things joined together as each might chance, and many other things beside them continually arose. Many creatures with faces and breasts looking in different directions were born; some, offspring of oxen with faces of men, while others, again, arose as offspring of men with the heads of oxen, and creatures in whom the nature of women and men was mingled, furnished with sterile parts. R.P. 137b.

. . . Shambling oxen with undivided hoofs . . .

Come now, hear how the Fire as it was separated caused the night-born shoots of men and tearful women to arise; for my tale is not off the point nor uninformed. Whole-natured forms first arose from the earth, having a portion both of water and fire. These did the fire, desirous of reaching its like, cause to grow, showing as yet neither the charming form of women’s limbs, nor yet the voice and parts that are proper to men. R.P. 137c.

. . . But the substance of (the child’s limbs is divided between them, part of it in men’s and part in women’s (body).

And upon him came desire as he mingled with her through sight.

. . . And it was poured out in the pure parts; and when it met with cold women arose from it.

. . . The two diverging harbours of Aphrodite.

For in its warmer part the womb brings forth males, and that is why men are darker, more sinewy, and more hairy.

Just as when rennet rivets and binds white milk. . . .

On the tenth day of the eighth month the white putrefaction arose.

Know that effluences flow from all things that have come into being. R. P. 132h.

So sweet lays hold of sweet, and bitter rushes to bitter; acid comes to acid, and warm couples with warm.

Water fits better into wine, but it will not (mingle) with oil. R. P. 132h.

The bloom of scarlet dye mingles with the gleaming linen.

Thus do all things draw breath and breathe it out again. All have bloodless tubes of flesh extended over the surface of their bodies; and at the mouths of these the uttermost surface of the skin is perforated all over with pores closely packed together, so as to keep in the blood while a free passage is cut for the air to pass through. Then, when the yielding blood recedes from these, the bubbling air rushes in with an impetuous surge; and when the blood runs back it is breathed out again. Just as when a girl, playing with a water-clock of shining brass, puts the orifice of the pipe upon her comely hand, and dips the water-clock into the yielding mass of silvery water,—the stream does not then flow into the vessel, but the bulk of the air inside, pressing upon the close packed perforations, keeps it out till she uncovers the compressed stream; but then air escapes and an equal volume of water runs in. Just in the same way, when water occupies the interior of the brazen vessel and the opening and passage is stopped up by the human hand, the air outside, striving to get in, keeps back the water at the gates of the sounding strainer, pressing upon its surface till she lets go with her hand. Then, on the contrary, just in the opposite way to what happened before, the wind rushes in and an equal volume of water runs out to make room. Even so, when the thin blood that surges through the limbs rushes backwards to the interior, straightway the stream of air comes in with a rushing swell; but when the blood returns the air breathes out again in equal quantity.

(The dog) with its nostrils’ tracking out the fragments of the beast’s limbs, which the tender breathing of its feet has left in the copse.

Thus all things have their share of breath and smell.

The fleshy sprout (of the ear).

And even as when a man, thinking to sally forth through a stormy night, gets him ready a lantern, a flame of flashing fire, fastening to it horn plates to keep out all manner of winds; and they scatter the blast of the winds that blow, but the light leaping out through them shines across the threshold with its unyielding rays inasmuch as it is finer; even so did love surround the elemental fire in the round pupil and confine it with membranes and fine tissues, which are pierced through and through with innumerable passages. They keep out the deep water that surrounds the pupil, but they let through the fire, inasmuch as it is finer. R.P. 139d.

One vision is produced by both the eyes.

(The heart), dwelling in the sea of blood that runs in opposite directions, where men’s thoughts chiefly revolve; for the blood round the heart is the thought of man. R.P. 139e.

For the wisdom of men grows according to what is before them. R.P. 139B.

And just so far as they grow to be different, so far do different thoughts ever present themselves to their minds (in dreams). R.P. 139c.

For it is with earth that we see Earth, and Water with water; by air we see bright Air, by fire destroying Fire. By love do we see Love, and Hate by grievous hate. For out of these are all things formed and fitted together, and by these do men think and feel pleasure and pain. R.P. 139 A and C.

BOOK III.

If ever, as regards the things of a day, immortal Muse, thou didst deign to take thought for my endeavour, then stand by me once more as I pray to thee, O Kalliopeia, as I utter a pure discourse concerning the blessed gods. R.P. 140 A.

Blessed is the man who has gained the riches of divine wisdom; wretched he who has a dim opinion of the gods in his heart. R.P. 140 B.

It is not possible for us to set God before our eyes, or to lay hold of him with our hands, which is the broadest way of persuasion that leads into the heart of man. For he is not furnished with a human head on his body, two branches do not sprout from his shoulders, he has no feet, no swift knees, nor hairy parts; but he is only a sacred and unutterable mind flashing through the whole world with rapid thoughts. R.P. 140 C, D.

PURIFICATIONS

Friends, who inhabit the great town below the yellow rock of Akragas and up on the heights of the city, busy in goodly works, safe harbours for the stranger that claims respect, men unskilled in meanness, all hail. I go about among you an immortal god, no mortal now, honoured by all as is meet, crowned with fillets and flowery garlands. Straightway, whenever I enter with these into the flourishing towns, reverence is done me by men and women; they go after me in Countless throngs, asking of me the way to gain; some desiring oracles, while some, who for many a weary day have been pierced by the grievous pangs of all manner of sickness, beg to hear from me the word of healing. R.P. 129 F.

But why do I harp on these things, as if it were any great matter that I should surpass mortal, perishable men?

Friends, I know indeed that truth is in the words I shall utter, but for men the assault of belief upon their hearts is grievous and hateful.

There is a decree of necessity an ancient ordinance of the gods, eternal and sealed fast by broad oaths, that whenever one of the daemons, whose portion is length of days, sinfully pollutes his hands with blood, he must wander thrice ten thousand seasons from the abodes of the blessed, being born throughout the time in all manners of mortal forms, changing one toilsome path of life for another. For the mighty Air drives him into the Sea, and the Sea spews him forth on the dry Earth; Earth tosses him into the beams of the blazing Sun, and he flings him back to the eddies of Air. One takes him from the other, and all reject him. One of these I now am, an exile and a wanderer from the gods, the bondsman of insensate strife. R. P. 141 A.

For I have been ere now a boy and a girl, a bush and a bird and a glittering fish in the sea. R. P. 141 B.

I wept and I wailed when I saw the unfamiliar land where were Birth and Sudden Death and troops of Dooms besides, and loathsome sicknesses and putrefactions and fluxes. R.P. 141 C.

They wander in darkness up and down the meadow of Ate.

Robbed of the blessed life.

From what honour, from what a height of bliss have I fallen to go about among mortals here on earth.

We have come down under this roofed-in cave.

There was Chthonie and far-sighted Heliope, bloody Discord and gentle-visaged Harmony, Kallisto and Aischre, Speed and Tarrying, lovely Truth and dark-faced Uncertainty, Birth and Decay, Sleep and Waking, Movement and Immobility, crowned Majesty and Meanness, Silence and Voice. R. P. 131e.

Alas, O wretched race of mortals, twice unblessed: such are the strifes and groanings from which ye have been born!

(The goddess) clothing them with a strange garment of flesh
. . . . Earth that envelops the man.
From living creatures he made them dead, changing their forms.

Nor had they any Ares for a god nor Kydoimos, no nor King Zeus nor Kronos nor Poseidon, but Kypris the Queen. . . . Her did they propitiate with holy gifts, with animals kneaded out of meal and perfumes of cunning fragrancy, with offerings of pure myrrh and sweet-smelling frankincense, casting on the ground libations of brown honey. And the altar did not reek with pure bull’s blood, but this was held in the greatest abomination among men, to eat the goodly limbs after tearing out the life. R.P. 142 B.

And there was among them a man of rare knowledge, most skilled in all manner of wise works, a man who had won the utmost wealth of wisdom; for whensoever he strained with all his mind, he easily saw everything of all the things that are now (though he lived) ten, yea twenty generations of men ago.

For all things were tame and gentle to man, both beasts and birds, and friendly feelings were kindled everywhere. Trees flourished with perpetual leaves and with perpetual fruit, hanging down with abundance of fruit all the year round. R.P. 142a.

This is not lawful for some and unlawful for others; but the law for all extends everywhere, through the wide-ruling air and the infinite light of heaven. R.P. 142 A.

Will ye not cease from this accursed slaughter? See ye not that ye are feasting on one another in the thoughtlessness of your hearts. R.P. 142 B.

And the father lifts up his own son in a changed form and slays him with a prayer. Infatuated fool! And they are dragged along begging mercy from the madman, while he, deaf to their cries, slaughters them in his halls and gets ready the evil feast. In like manner does the son seize the father, and children their mother, tear out their life and eat their flesh. R.P. ib.

Ah, woe is me that the pitiless day of death did not destroy me ere ever I wrought evil deeds of devouring with my lips! R.P. ib.

Among beasts they become lions that make their lair on the hills and their couch on the ground; and laurels among trees with goodly foliage. R.P. 141b.

Abstain wholly from laurel leaves.

Wretches, utter wretches, keep your hands from beans?

Wash your hands, cutting the water from five springs in the unyielding brass. R.P. 143, n. I.

Fast from wickedness! R. P. ib.

Therefore are ye distraught by grievous wickednesses, and will not unburden your souls of wretched sorrows.

But, at the last, they appear among mortal men as prophets, song-writers, physicians, and princes; and thence they rise up as gods exalted in honour, sharing the hearth of the other gods and the same table, free from human woes, safe from destiny, and incapable of hurt. R. P. 141c.

Empedokles held that the Air was first separated out and secondly Fire. Next came Earth, from which, highly compressed as it was by the impetus of its revolution, Water gushed forth. From the water Mist was produced by evaporation. The heavens were formed out of the Air and the sun out of the Fire, while terrestrial things were condensed from the other elements.—Aet. ii. 6. 3 (Dox. p. 334; R. P.135 A).

Empedokles held that the Air when separated off from the original mixture of the elements was spread round in a circle. After the Air, Fire running outwards, and not finding any other place, ran up under the solid ice that now surrounds the Air. There were two hemispheres revolving round the earth, the one altogether composed of fire, the other of a mixture of air and a little fire. The latter he supposed to be the Night. The origin of their motion he derived from the fact of fire preponderating in one hemisphere owing to its accumulation there.—Ps.-Plut. Strom. fr. IO (Dox. p. 582; R. P. 135a).

Empedokles says that trees were the first living creatures to grow up out of the earth, before it was solidified by fire, and before day and night were distinguished; that, from the symmetry of their mixture, they contain the proportion of male and female; that they grow owing to the heat which is in the earth rising upwards, so that they are parts of the earth just as embryos are parts of the womb; that fruits are excretions of the water and fire in plants, and that those which have a deficiency of moisture shed their leaves when that is evaporated by the summer heat, while those which have more moisture remain evergreen, as in the case of the laurel, the olive, and the palm; that the differences in taste are due to variations in the particles contained in the earth and to the plants drawing different particles from it, as in the case of vines; for it is not the difference of the vines that make wine good, but that of the soil which nourishes them.—Aet. v. 26. 4 (R. P. 136).

7. Empedokles speaks in the same way of all the senses, and says that perception is due to the "effluences" fitting into the passages of each sense. And that is why one cannot judge the objects of another; for the passages of some of them are too wide and those of others too narrow for the sensible object, so that the latter either goes through without touching or cannot enter at all. R.P. 139d.

He tries, too, to explain the nature of sight. He says that the interior of the eye consists of fire and water, while round about it is earth and "air," through which its rarity enables the fire to pass like the light in lanterns (v. 316 sqq.). The passages of the fire and water are arranged alternately; through those of the fire we perceive light objects, through those of the water, dark; each class of objects fits into each class of passages, and the colours are carried to the sight by effluence. R.P. ib.

8. But eyes are not all composed in the same way; some are composed of like elements and some of opposite; some have the fire in the centre and some on the outside. That is why some animals are keen-sighted in the daytime, for the fire within is brought up to an equality by that without; those which have less of the opposite (i.e. water), by night, for then their deficiency is supplemented. But, in the opposite case, each will behave in the opposite manner. Those eyes in which fire predominates will be dazzled in the daytime, since the fire being still further increased will stop up and occupy the pores of the water. And this goes on till the water is separated off by the air, for in each case it is the opposite which is a remedy. The best tempered and the most excellent vision is one composed of both in equal proportions. This is practically what he says about sight.

9. Hearing, he holds, is produced by sound outside, when the air moved by the voice sounds inside the ear; for the sense of hearing is a sort of bell sounding inside the ear, which he calls a "fleshy sprout." When the air is set in motion it strikes upon the solid parts and produces a sound. Smell, he holds, arises from respiration, and that is why those smell most keenly whose breath has the most violent motion, and why most smell comes from subtle and light bodies. As to touch and taste, he does not lay down how nor by means of what they arise, except that he gives us an explanation applicable to all, that sensation is produced by adaptation to the pores. Pleasure is produced by what is like in its element and their mixture; pain, by what is opposite. R.P. ib.

10. And he gives a precisely similar account of thought and ignorance. Thought arises from what is like and ignorance from what is unlike, thus implying that thought is the same, or nearly the same, as perception. For after enumerating how we know each thing by means of itself, he adds, "for all things are fashioned and fitted together out of these, and it is by these men think and feel pleasure and pain" (v. 336 sq.). And for this reason we think chiefly with our blood, for in it of all parts of the body all the elements are most completely mingled. R. P. 139 C.

11. All, then, in whom the mixture is equal or nearly so, and in whom the elements are neither at too great intervals nor too small or too large, are the wisest and have the most exact perceptions; and those who come next to them are wise in proportion. Those who are in the opposite condition are the most foolish. Those whose elements are separated by intervals and rare are dull and laborious; those in whom they are closely packed and broken into minute particles are impulsive, they attempt many things and finish few because of the rapidity with which their blood moves. Those who have a well-proportioned mixture in some one part of their bodies will be clever in that respect. That is why some are good orators and some good artificers. The latter have a good mixture in their hands, and the former in their tongues, and so with all other special capacities. R. P. ib.

Translations of John Burnet.