Whois there that by energy of mindCould build a poem worthy of our theme’sMajesty and of these discoveries?Or who has such a mastery of wordsAs to devise praises proportionateTo his deserts, who to us has bequeathedSuch prizes, earned by his own intellect?No man, I think, formed of a mortal body.For if we are to speak as the acknowledgedMajesty of our theme demands, a godWas he, most noble Memmius, a god,Who first found out that discipline of lifeWhich now is called philosophy, and whose skillFrom such great billows and a gloom so darkDelivered life, and steered it into a calmSo peaceful and beneath so bright a light.For compare the divine discoveriesOf others in old times. ’Tis told that CeresFirst revealed corn to men, Liber the juiceOf grape-born wine; though life without these thingsMight well have been sustained; and even now’Tis said there are some people that live so.But to live happily was not possibleWithout a serene mind. Therefore more justlyIs this man deemed by us a god, from whomCame those sweet solaces of life, which nowAlready through great nations spread abroadHave power to soothe men’s minds. Should you supposeMoreover that the deeds of HerculesSurpass his, then yet further will you driftOut of true reason’s course. For what harm nowWould those great gaping jaws of Nemea’s lionDo to us, and the bristly Arcadian boar?What could the bull of Crete, or Lerna’s pestThe Hydra fenced around with venomous snakes,And threefold Gerion’s triple-breasted might,Or those brazen-plumed birds inhabitingStymphalian swamps, what injury so greatCould they inflict upon us, or the steedsOf Thracian Diomede, with fire-breathing nostrilsRanging Bistonia’s wilds and Ismarus?Also the serpent, guardian of the brightGold-gleaming apples of the Hesperides,Fierce and grim-glancing, with huge body coiledRound the tree’s stem, how were it possibleHe could molest us by the Atlantic shoreAnd those lone seas, where none of us sets foot,And no barbarian ventures to draw near?And all those other monsters which likewiseHave been destroyed, if they had not been vanquished,What harm, pray, could they do, though now alive?None, I presume: for the earth even now aboundsWith wild beasts to repletion, and is filledWith shuddering terror throughout its woods, great mountainsAnd deep forests, regions which we have powerFor the most part to avoid. But if the heartHas not been purged, what tumults then, what dangersMust needs invade us in our own despite!What fierce anxieties, offspring of desire,Rend the distracted man, what mastering fears!Pride also, sordid avarice, and violence,Of what calamities are not they the cause!Luxury too, and slothfulness! He thereforeWho could subdue all these, and banish themOut of our minds by force of words, not arms,Is it not right we should deem such a manWorthy to be numbered among the gods?The more that he was wont in beautifulAnd godlike speech to utter many truthsAbout the immortal gods themselves, and setThe whole nature of things in clear words forth.I, in his footsteps treading, follow outHis reasonings and expound in my discourseBy what law all things are created, howThey are compelled to abide within that law,Without power to annul the immutableDecrees of time; and first above all elseThe mind’s nature was found to be composedOf a body that had birth, without the powerTo endure through a long period unscathed:For it was found to be mere imagesThat are wont to deceive the mind in sleep,Whenever we appear to behold oneWhom life has abandoned. Now, for what remains,The order of my argument has brought meTo the point where I must show both how the worldIs composed of a body which must die,Also that it was born; and in what wayMatter once congregating and unitingEstablished earth sky sea, the stars, the sun,And the moon’s globe: also what living creaturesRose from the earth, and which were those that neverAt any time were born: next in what wayMankind began to employ varied speechOne with another by giving names to things:Then for what causes that fear of the godsEntered their breasts, and now through the whole worldGives sanctity to shrines, lakes and groves,Altars and images of gods. MoreoverI will make plain by what force and controlNature pilots the courses of the sunAnd the wanderings of the moon, lest we perchanceDeem that they traverse of their own free willTheir yearly orbits between heaven and earth,Obsequiously furthering the increaseOf crops and living things, or should supposeThat they roll onwards by the gods’ design.For those who have learnt rightly that the godsLead a life free from care, if yet they wonderBy what means all things can be carried on,Such above all as are perceived to happenIn the ethereal regions overhead,They are borne back again into their oldReligious fears, and adopt pitiless lords,Whom in their misery they believe to beAlmighty; for they are ignorant of what canAnd what cannot exist; in fine they know notUpon what principle each thing has its powersLimited, and its deep-set boundary stone.But now, lest I detain you with more promises,In the first place consider, Memmius,The seas, the land, the sky, whose threefold nature,Three bodies, three forms so dissimilar,And three such wondrous textures, a single dayShall give to destruction, and the world’s vast massAnd fabric, for so many years upheld,Shall fall to ruin. Nor am I unawareHow novel and strange, when first it strikes the mind,Must appear this destruction of earth and heavenThat is to be, and for myself how difficultIt will prove to convince you by mere words,As happens when one brings to a man’s earsSome notion unfamiliar hitherto,If yet one cannot thrust it visiblyBeneath his eyes, or place it in his hands;For the paved highway of belief through touchAnd sight leads straightest into the human heartAnd the precincts of the mind. Yet none the lessI will speak out. Reality itselfIt may be will bring credence to my words,And in a little while you will beholdThe earth terribly quaking, and all thingsShattered to ruins. But may pilot fortuneSteer far from us such disaster, and may reasonConvince us rather than realityThat the whole universe may well collapse,Tumbling together with a dread crash and roar.But before I attempt concerning thisTo announce fate’s oracles in more holy wise,And with assurance far more rationalThan doth the Pythoness, when from the tripodAnd laurel wreath of Phoebus her voice sounds,Many consolatories will I firstExpound to you in learned words, lest haplyCurbed by religion’s bit you should supposeThat earth and sun and sky, sea, stars and moon,Their substance being divine, must needs abideEternally, and should therefore think it justThat all, after the manner of the giants,Should suffer penance for their monstrous guiltWho by their reasoning shake the world’s firm walls,And fain would quench the glorious sun in heaven,Shaming with mortal speech immortal things;Though in fact such objects are so far removedFrom any share in divine energy,And so unworthy to be accounted gods,That they may be considered with more reasonTo afford us the conception of what is quiteDevoid of vital motion and of sense.For truly by no means can we supposeThat the nature and judgment of the mindCan exist linked with every kind of body,Even as in the sky trees cannot exist,Nor clouds in the salt waters, nor can fishLive in the fields, neither can blood be foundIn wood, nor sap in stones: but where each thingCan dwell and grow, is determined and ordained.Even so the nature of mind cannot be bornAlone without a body, nor existSeparated from sinews and from blood.But if (for this is likelier by far)The mind’s force might reside within the headOr shoulders, or be born down in the heels,Or in any part you will, it would at leastInhabit the same man and the same vessel.But since even in our body it is seenTo be determined and ordained where soulAnd mind can separately dwell and grow,All the more must it be denied that mindCannot have being quite outside a bodyAnd a living form, in crumbling clods of earth,In the sun’s fire, or water, or aloftIn the domains of ether. Such things thereforeAre not endowed with divine consciousness,Because they cannot be quickened into life.This too you cannot possibly believe,That there are holy abodes of deitiesAnywhere in the world. For so tenuousIs the nature of gods, and from our sensesSo far withdrawn, that hardly can the mindImagine it. And seeing that hithertoIt has eluded touch or blow of hands,It must touch nothing which for us is tangible:For naught can touch that may not itself be touched.So even their abodes must be unlikeOur own, tenuous as their bodies are.All this hereafter I will prove to youBy plentiful argument. Further, to sayThat for the sake of mankind the gods willedTo frame the wondrous nature of the world,And that on this account we ought to extolTheir handiwork as worthy of all praise,And to believe that it will prove eternalAnd indestructible, and to think it sinEver by any effort to disturbWhat by the ancient wisdom of the godsHas been established everlastinglyFor mankind’s benefit, or by argumentTo assail and overthrow it utterlyFrom top to bottom, and to invent besidesOther such errors—all this, Memmius,Is folly. For what advantage could our thanksBestow upon immortal and blessed beingsThat for our sakes they should bestir themselvesTo perform any task? Or what new factCould have induced them, tranquil hitherto,After so long to change their former life?For it seems fitting he should take delightIn a new state of things, to whom the oldWas painful: but for him whom in past times,While he was living in felicity,No evil had befallen, for such a oneWhat could have kindled a desire for change?Must we imagine that their life lay prostrateIn darkness and in misery, till the birthAnd origin of things first dawned upon them?Besides, what evil had it been to usNot to have been created? For whoeverHas once been born, must wish to abide in lifeSo long as luring pleasure bids him stay:But one who has never tasted the love of life,Nor even been numbered in life’s ranks, what harmWere it for him not to have been created?Again whence first was implanted in the godsA pattern for begetting things? Whence tooThe preconception of what men should be,So that they knew and imaged in their mindsWhat they desired to make? And by what meansCould they have ever ascertained the energyLatent in primal atoms, or what formsMight be produced by changes in their order,Unless Nature herself had given them firstA sample of creation? For indeedThese primal atoms in such multitudesAnd in so many ways, through infinite timeImpelled by blows and moved by their own weight,Have been borne onward so incessantly,Uniting in every way and making trialOf every shape they could combine to form,That ’tis not strange if they have also fallenInto such grouping, and acquired such motionsAs those whereby the present sum of thingsIs carried on and ceaselessly renewed.But even were I ignorant how thingsWere formed of primal elements, yet thisWould I have ventured to affirm, and proveNot only from the system of the heavens,But from much other evidence, that natureHas by no means been fashioned for our benefitBy divine power; so great are the defectsWhich are its bane. First, of the whole spaceCovered by the enormous reach of heaven,A greedy portion mountains occupyAnd forests of wild beasts; rocks and waste swampsPossess it, or the wide land-sundering sea.Besides, well nigh two-thirds are stolen from menBy burning heat and frost ceaselessly falling.All that is left for husbandry, even thatThe force of Nature soon would overspreadWith thorns, unless resisted by man’s force,Ever wont for his livelihood to groanOver the strong hoe, and with down-pressed ploughTo cleave the earth. For if we do not turnThe fertile clods with coulters, and subduingThe soil of earth, summon the crops to birth,They could not of their own accord spring upInto the bright air. Even then sometimes,When answering our long toil throughout the landEvery bud puts forth its leaves and flowers,Either the sun in heaven scorches themWith too much heat, or sudden gusts of rainOr nipping frosts destroy them, or wind-stormsShatter them with impetuous whirling blasts.Furthermore why does Nature multiplyAnd nourish terrible tribes of savage beastsBy land and sea, dangerous to mankind?Why does untimely death range to and fro?Then again, like a mariner cast ashoreBy raging waves, the human infant liesNaked upon the ground, speechless, in wantOf every help needful for life, when firstNature by birth-throes from his mother’s wombThrusts him into the borders of the light,So that he fills the room with piteous wailing,As well he may, whose fate in life will beTo pass through so much misery. But flocksAnd herds of divers kind, and the wild beasts,These, as they grow up, have no need of rattles:To none of them a foster-nurse must utterFond broken speech: they seek not different dressesTo suit each season: no, nor do they needWeapons nor lofty walls whereby to guardWhat is their own, since all things for them allThe Earth herself brings forth abundantly,And Nature, the creatress manifold.First of all, since the substance of the earth,Moisture, and the light breathings of the air,And burning heats, of which this sum of thingsIs seen to be composed, have all been formedOf a body that was born and that will die,Of such a body must we likewise deemThat the whole nature of the world was made.For things whose parts and members we see formedOf a body that had birth and shapes that die,These we perceive are themselves always mortal,And likewise have been born. Since then we seeThat the chief parts and members of the worldDecay and are reborn, it is no less certainThat once for heaven and earth there was a timeOf origin, and will be of destruction.Herein lest you should think that without proofI have seized this vantage, in that I have assumedEarth and fire to be mortal, and have not doubtedThat moisture and air perish, but maintainedThat these too are reborn and grow afresh,Consider first how no small part of the earthCeaselessly baked by the sun’s rays and trampledBy innumerable feet, gives off a mistAnd flying clouds of dust, which the strong windsDisperse through the whole atmosphere. Part tooOf the earth’s soil is turned to swamp by rains,While scouring rivers gnaw their banks away.Furthermore whatsoever goes to augmentSome other thing, is in its turn restored;And since beyond all doubt the all-mother EarthIs seen to be no less the general tomb,You thus may see how she is ever lessened,Yet with new growth increases evermore.Next, that the sea, the rivers and the springsAre always amply fed by new suppliesOf moisture oozing up perennially,It needs no words to explain. The vast down-flowOf waters from all sides is proof of this.But as the water that is uppermostIs always taken away, it comes to passThat on the whole there is no overflow;Partly because strong winds, sweeping the seas,Diminish them, and the sun in heaven unweavesTheir fabric with his rays; partly becauseThe water is distributed belowThroughout all lands. For the salt is strained off,And the pure fluid matter, oozing back,Gathers together at the river-heads,Thence in fresh current streams over the land,Wherever it finds a channel ready scoopedTo carry down its waves with liquid foot.Now must I speak of air, which every hourIs changed through its whole body in countless ways.For always whatsoever flows from thingsIs all borne into the vast sea of air:And if it were not in its turn to giveParticles back to things, recruiting themAs they dissolve, all would have been long sinceDisintegrated, and so changed to air.Therefore it never ceases to be bornOut of things, and to pass back into things,Since, as we know, all are in constant flux.Likewise that bounteous fountain of clear light,The sun in heaven, ceaselessly floods the skyWith fresh brightness, and momently suppliesThe place of light with new light: for each formerEmission of his radiance perishes,On whatsoever spot it falls. This truthYou may thus learn. So soon as clouds beginTo pass below the sun, and as it wereTo break off the light’s rays, their lower partForthwith perishes wholly, and the earthIs shadow-swept, wherever the clouds move.Thus you may know that things have ever needOf fresh illumination, and that eachFormer discharge of radiance perishes,Nor in any other way could things be seenIn sunlight, if the fountain-head itselfDid not send forth a perpetual supply.Also those lights we use here upon earthAt night-time, hanging lamps, and torches brightWith darting beams, rich with abundant smoke,Are in haste in like fashion to supplyNew radiance with ministering fire;The very flames seem eager, eager to flicker;Nor does the still unbroken stream of lightOne instant quit the spots whereon it played,So suddenly is its perishing concealedBy the swift birth of flame from all these fires.It is thus then you must think sun moon and starsShoot forth their light from ever fresh supplies,And that they always lose whatever beamsCome foremost; lest perchance you should believeTheir energy to be indestructible.Again, is it not seen that even stonesBy time are vanquished, that tall towers fallAnd rocks crumble away, that shrines and idolsOf gods grow worn out and dilapidate,Nor may the indwelling holiness prolongThe bounds of destiny, or strive againstThe laws of Nature? Then do we not seeThe monuments of men, fallen to ruin,Ask for themselves whether you would believeThat they also grow old?[F]See we not rocksSplit off from mountain heights fall crashing downUnable more to endure the powerful stressOf finite years? Surely they would not fallThus suddenly split off, if through the lapseOf infinite past years they had withstoodAll the assaults of time, without being shattered.Now contemplate that which around and aboveCompasses the whole earth with its embrace.If it begets all things out of itself,As some have told us, and receives them backWhen they have perished, then the whole sky is madeOf a body that had birth and that must die.For whatsoever nourishes and augmentsOther things from itself, must needs be minished,And be replenished, when it receives them back.Moreover, if there never was a timeOf origin when earth and heaven were born,If they have always been from everlasting,Why then before the Theban war and Troy’sDestruction, have not other poets sungOf other deeds as well? Whither have vanishedSo many exploits of so many men?Why are they nowhere blossoming engraftedOn the eternal monuments of fame?But in truth, as I think, this sum of thingsIs in its youth: the nature of the worldIs recent, and began not long ago.Wherefore even now some arts are being wroughtTo their last polish, some are still in growth.Of late many improvements have been madeIn navigation, and musicians tooHave given birth to new melodious sounds.Also this theory of the nature of thingsHas been discovered lately, and I myselfHave only now been found the very firstAble to turn it into our native words.Nevertheless, if you perchance believeThat long ago these things were just the same,But that the generations of mankindPerished by scorching heat, or that their citiesFell in some great convulsion of the world,Or else that flooded by incessant rainsDevouring rivers broke forth over the earthAnd swallowed up whole towns, so much the moreMust you admit that there will come to passA like destruction of earth and heaven too.For when things were assailed by such great maladiesAnd dangers, if some yet more fatal causeHad whelmed them, they would then have been dissolvedIn havoc and vast ruin far and wide.And in no other way do we perceiveThat we are mortal, save that we all alikeIn turn fall sick of the same maladiesAs those whom Nature has withdrawn from life.Again, whatever things abide eternally,Must either, because they are of solid body,Repulse assaults, nor suffer anythingTo penetrate them, which might have the powerTo disunite the close-locked parts within:(Such are those bodies whereof matter is made,Whose nature we have shown before:) or elseThey must be able to endure throughoutAll time, because they are exempt from blows,As void is, which abides untouched, nor suffersOne whit from any stroke: or else becauseThere is no further space surrounding them,Into which things might as it were departAnd be dissolved; even as the sum of sumsIs eternal, nor is there any spaceOutside it, into which its particlesMight spring asunder, nor are there other bodiesThat could strike and dissolve them with strong blows.But neither, as I have shown, is this world’s natureSolid, since there is void mixed up in things;Nor yet is it like void; nor verilyAre atoms lacking that might well collectOut of the infinite, and overwhelmThis sum of things with violent hurricane,Or threaten it with some other form of ruin;Nor further is there any want of roomAnd of deep space, into which the world’s wallsMight be dispersed abroad; or they may perishShattered by any other force you will.Therefore the gates of death are never closedAgainst sky, sun or earth, or the deep seas;But they stand open, awaiting them with hugeVast-gaping jaws. So you must needs admitThat all these likewise once were born: for thingsOf mortal body could not until nowThrough infinite past ages have defiedThe strong powers of immeasurable time.Again, since the chief members of the worldSo mightily contend together, stirredBy unhallowed civil warfare, see you notThat some end may be set to their long strife?It may be when the sun and every kindOf heat shall have drunk all the moisture up,And gained the mastery they were struggling for,Though they have failed as yet to achieve their aim:So vast are the supplies the rivers bring,Threatening in turn to deluge every landFrom out the deep abysses of the ocean;All in vain, since the winds, sweeping the seas,Diminish them, and the sun in heaven unweavesTheir fabric with his rays; and ’tis their boastThat they are able to dry all things up,Before moisture can achieve its end.So terrible a war do they breathe outOn equal terms, striving one with anotherFor mighty issues: though indeed fire onceObtained the mastery, so the fable tells,And water once reigned supreme in the fields.For fire prevailing licked up and consumedMany things, when the ungovernable mightOf the Sun’s horses, swerving from their course,Through the whole sky and over every landWhirled Phaëthon. But then the almighty Father,Stirred to fierce wrath, with sudden thunder-strokeDashed great-souled Phaëthon from his team to the earth,And as he fell the Sun-god meeting himCaught from him the world’s everlasting lamp,And brought back tamed and trembling to the yokeThe scattered steeds; then on their wonted courseGuiding them, unto all things gave fresh life.Thus verily the old Greek poets sang,Though straying from true reason all too far.For fire can only gain the masteryWhen an excess of fiery particlesHave flocked together out of infinite space;And then its strength fails, vanquished in some way,Or else things perish, utterly consumedBy scorching gusts. Likewise moisture onceGathering together, as the story tells,Strove for the mastery, when it overwhelmedMany cities of mankind. But afterwards,When all that force, which out of infinite spaceHad gathered itself up, was by some meansDiverted and withdrew, the rains ceased then,And the violence of the rivers was abated.But in what ways matter converging onceEstablished earth and heaven and the sea’s deeps,The sun’s course and the moon’s, I will set forthIn order. For in truth not by designDid the primordial particles of thingsArrange themselves each in its own right placeWith provident mind, nor verily have they bargainedWhat motions each should follow; but becauseThese primal atoms in such multitudesAnd in so many ways through infinite timeImpelled by blows and moved by their own weight,Have been borne onward so incessantly,Uniting in every way and making trialOf every shape they could combine to form,Therefore it is that after wandering wideThrough vast periods, attempting every kindOf union and of motion, they at lastCollect into such groups as, suddenlyFlocking together, oftentimes becomeThe rudiments of mighty things, of earth,Sea and sky, and the race of living creatures.At that time neither could the disk of the sunBe seen flying aloft with bounteous light,Nor the stars of great heaven, nor sea, nor sky,Nor yet earth nor the air, nor anythingResembling those things which we now behold,But only a sort of strange tempest, a massGathered together out of primal atomsOf all kinds, which discordantly waged warDisordering so their interspaces, paths,Connections, weights, collisions, meetings, motions,Since with their unlike forms and varied shapes,They could not therefore all remain united,Nor move among themselves harmoniously.Thereupon parts began to fly asunder,And like things to unite with like, and soTo separate off the world, and to divideIts members, portioning out its mighty parts;That is, to mark off the high heaven from earth,And the sea by itself, that it might spreadWith unmixed waters, and likewise the firesOf aether by themselves, pure and unmixed.Now first the several particles of earth,Since they were heavy and close-packed, all metTogether in the middle, and took upThe lowest places: and the more they metIn close-packed throngs, the more did they squeeze outThose particles which were to form sea, stars,Sun and moon, and the walls of the great world.For all these are of smoother rounder seeds,And of much smaller elements than earth.So first through porous openings in the soilThe fire-laden aether here and thereBursting forth rose and lightly carried offMany fires with it, much in the same wayAs often we may see when first the beamsOf the radiant sun with golden morning lightBlush through the grasses gemmed with dew, and lakesAnd ever-flowing rivers exhale mist,While earth itself is sometimes seen to smoke;And when floating aloft these vapours allUnite on high, then taking bodily shapeAs clouds, they weave a veil beneath the heavens.Thus then the light diffusive aether onceTook bodily shape, and, arched round on all sides,Far into every quarter spreading out,So with its greedy embrace hemmed in all else.Next came the rudiments of sun and moon,Whose globes turn in the air midway betweenAether and earth; for neither did the earthNor the great aether claim them for itself,Since they were not so heavy as to sinkAnd settle down, nor so light as to glideAlong the topmost borders: yet their courseBetween the two is such, that as they rollTheir lifelike bodies onward, they are stillParts of the whole world; even as with usSome of our members may remain at rest,While at the same time others may be in motion.So when these things had been withdrawn, the earth,Where now the ocean’s vast blue region spreads,Sank suddenly down, and flooded with salt surgeIts hollow parts. And day by day the moreThe encircling aether’s heats and the sun’s raysCompressed the earth into a closer massBy constant blows upon its outer surfaceFrom every side, so that thus beaten uponIt shrank and drew together round its centre,The more did the salt sweat squeezed from its bodyIncrease by its oozings the sea’s floating plains,And the more did those many particlesOf heat and air escaping fly abroad,And far away from the earth condensing, formThe lofty glittering mansions of the sky.The plains sank lower, the high mountains grewYet steeper; for the rocks could not sink down,Nor could all parts subside to one same level.
Whois there that by energy of mindCould build a poem worthy of our theme’sMajesty and of these discoveries?Or who has such a mastery of wordsAs to devise praises proportionateTo his deserts, who to us has bequeathedSuch prizes, earned by his own intellect?No man, I think, formed of a mortal body.For if we are to speak as the acknowledgedMajesty of our theme demands, a godWas he, most noble Memmius, a god,Who first found out that discipline of lifeWhich now is called philosophy, and whose skillFrom such great billows and a gloom so darkDelivered life, and steered it into a calmSo peaceful and beneath so bright a light.For compare the divine discoveriesOf others in old times. ’Tis told that CeresFirst revealed corn to men, Liber the juiceOf grape-born wine; though life without these thingsMight well have been sustained; and even now’Tis said there are some people that live so.But to live happily was not possibleWithout a serene mind. Therefore more justlyIs this man deemed by us a god, from whomCame those sweet solaces of life, which nowAlready through great nations spread abroadHave power to soothe men’s minds. Should you supposeMoreover that the deeds of HerculesSurpass his, then yet further will you driftOut of true reason’s course. For what harm nowWould those great gaping jaws of Nemea’s lionDo to us, and the bristly Arcadian boar?What could the bull of Crete, or Lerna’s pestThe Hydra fenced around with venomous snakes,And threefold Gerion’s triple-breasted might,Or those brazen-plumed birds inhabitingStymphalian swamps, what injury so greatCould they inflict upon us, or the steedsOf Thracian Diomede, with fire-breathing nostrilsRanging Bistonia’s wilds and Ismarus?Also the serpent, guardian of the brightGold-gleaming apples of the Hesperides,Fierce and grim-glancing, with huge body coiledRound the tree’s stem, how were it possibleHe could molest us by the Atlantic shoreAnd those lone seas, where none of us sets foot,And no barbarian ventures to draw near?And all those other monsters which likewiseHave been destroyed, if they had not been vanquished,What harm, pray, could they do, though now alive?None, I presume: for the earth even now aboundsWith wild beasts to repletion, and is filledWith shuddering terror throughout its woods, great mountainsAnd deep forests, regions which we have powerFor the most part to avoid. But if the heartHas not been purged, what tumults then, what dangersMust needs invade us in our own despite!What fierce anxieties, offspring of desire,Rend the distracted man, what mastering fears!Pride also, sordid avarice, and violence,Of what calamities are not they the cause!Luxury too, and slothfulness! He thereforeWho could subdue all these, and banish themOut of our minds by force of words, not arms,Is it not right we should deem such a manWorthy to be numbered among the gods?The more that he was wont in beautifulAnd godlike speech to utter many truthsAbout the immortal gods themselves, and setThe whole nature of things in clear words forth.I, in his footsteps treading, follow outHis reasonings and expound in my discourseBy what law all things are created, howThey are compelled to abide within that law,Without power to annul the immutableDecrees of time; and first above all elseThe mind’s nature was found to be composedOf a body that had birth, without the powerTo endure through a long period unscathed:For it was found to be mere imagesThat are wont to deceive the mind in sleep,Whenever we appear to behold oneWhom life has abandoned. Now, for what remains,The order of my argument has brought meTo the point where I must show both how the worldIs composed of a body which must die,Also that it was born; and in what wayMatter once congregating and unitingEstablished earth sky sea, the stars, the sun,And the moon’s globe: also what living creaturesRose from the earth, and which were those that neverAt any time were born: next in what wayMankind began to employ varied speechOne with another by giving names to things:Then for what causes that fear of the godsEntered their breasts, and now through the whole worldGives sanctity to shrines, lakes and groves,Altars and images of gods. MoreoverI will make plain by what force and controlNature pilots the courses of the sunAnd the wanderings of the moon, lest we perchanceDeem that they traverse of their own free willTheir yearly orbits between heaven and earth,Obsequiously furthering the increaseOf crops and living things, or should supposeThat they roll onwards by the gods’ design.For those who have learnt rightly that the godsLead a life free from care, if yet they wonderBy what means all things can be carried on,Such above all as are perceived to happenIn the ethereal regions overhead,They are borne back again into their oldReligious fears, and adopt pitiless lords,Whom in their misery they believe to beAlmighty; for they are ignorant of what canAnd what cannot exist; in fine they know notUpon what principle each thing has its powersLimited, and its deep-set boundary stone.But now, lest I detain you with more promises,In the first place consider, Memmius,The seas, the land, the sky, whose threefold nature,Three bodies, three forms so dissimilar,And three such wondrous textures, a single dayShall give to destruction, and the world’s vast massAnd fabric, for so many years upheld,Shall fall to ruin. Nor am I unawareHow novel and strange, when first it strikes the mind,Must appear this destruction of earth and heavenThat is to be, and for myself how difficultIt will prove to convince you by mere words,As happens when one brings to a man’s earsSome notion unfamiliar hitherto,If yet one cannot thrust it visiblyBeneath his eyes, or place it in his hands;For the paved highway of belief through touchAnd sight leads straightest into the human heartAnd the precincts of the mind. Yet none the lessI will speak out. Reality itselfIt may be will bring credence to my words,And in a little while you will beholdThe earth terribly quaking, and all thingsShattered to ruins. But may pilot fortuneSteer far from us such disaster, and may reasonConvince us rather than realityThat the whole universe may well collapse,Tumbling together with a dread crash and roar.But before I attempt concerning thisTo announce fate’s oracles in more holy wise,And with assurance far more rationalThan doth the Pythoness, when from the tripodAnd laurel wreath of Phoebus her voice sounds,Many consolatories will I firstExpound to you in learned words, lest haplyCurbed by religion’s bit you should supposeThat earth and sun and sky, sea, stars and moon,Their substance being divine, must needs abideEternally, and should therefore think it justThat all, after the manner of the giants,Should suffer penance for their monstrous guiltWho by their reasoning shake the world’s firm walls,And fain would quench the glorious sun in heaven,Shaming with mortal speech immortal things;Though in fact such objects are so far removedFrom any share in divine energy,And so unworthy to be accounted gods,That they may be considered with more reasonTo afford us the conception of what is quiteDevoid of vital motion and of sense.For truly by no means can we supposeThat the nature and judgment of the mindCan exist linked with every kind of body,Even as in the sky trees cannot exist,Nor clouds in the salt waters, nor can fishLive in the fields, neither can blood be foundIn wood, nor sap in stones: but where each thingCan dwell and grow, is determined and ordained.Even so the nature of mind cannot be bornAlone without a body, nor existSeparated from sinews and from blood.But if (for this is likelier by far)The mind’s force might reside within the headOr shoulders, or be born down in the heels,Or in any part you will, it would at leastInhabit the same man and the same vessel.But since even in our body it is seenTo be determined and ordained where soulAnd mind can separately dwell and grow,All the more must it be denied that mindCannot have being quite outside a bodyAnd a living form, in crumbling clods of earth,In the sun’s fire, or water, or aloftIn the domains of ether. Such things thereforeAre not endowed with divine consciousness,Because they cannot be quickened into life.This too you cannot possibly believe,That there are holy abodes of deitiesAnywhere in the world. For so tenuousIs the nature of gods, and from our sensesSo far withdrawn, that hardly can the mindImagine it. And seeing that hithertoIt has eluded touch or blow of hands,It must touch nothing which for us is tangible:For naught can touch that may not itself be touched.So even their abodes must be unlikeOur own, tenuous as their bodies are.All this hereafter I will prove to youBy plentiful argument. Further, to sayThat for the sake of mankind the gods willedTo frame the wondrous nature of the world,And that on this account we ought to extolTheir handiwork as worthy of all praise,And to believe that it will prove eternalAnd indestructible, and to think it sinEver by any effort to disturbWhat by the ancient wisdom of the godsHas been established everlastinglyFor mankind’s benefit, or by argumentTo assail and overthrow it utterlyFrom top to bottom, and to invent besidesOther such errors—all this, Memmius,Is folly. For what advantage could our thanksBestow upon immortal and blessed beingsThat for our sakes they should bestir themselvesTo perform any task? Or what new factCould have induced them, tranquil hitherto,After so long to change their former life?For it seems fitting he should take delightIn a new state of things, to whom the oldWas painful: but for him whom in past times,While he was living in felicity,No evil had befallen, for such a oneWhat could have kindled a desire for change?Must we imagine that their life lay prostrateIn darkness and in misery, till the birthAnd origin of things first dawned upon them?Besides, what evil had it been to usNot to have been created? For whoeverHas once been born, must wish to abide in lifeSo long as luring pleasure bids him stay:But one who has never tasted the love of life,Nor even been numbered in life’s ranks, what harmWere it for him not to have been created?Again whence first was implanted in the godsA pattern for begetting things? Whence tooThe preconception of what men should be,So that they knew and imaged in their mindsWhat they desired to make? And by what meansCould they have ever ascertained the energyLatent in primal atoms, or what formsMight be produced by changes in their order,Unless Nature herself had given them firstA sample of creation? For indeedThese primal atoms in such multitudesAnd in so many ways, through infinite timeImpelled by blows and moved by their own weight,Have been borne onward so incessantly,Uniting in every way and making trialOf every shape they could combine to form,That ’tis not strange if they have also fallenInto such grouping, and acquired such motionsAs those whereby the present sum of thingsIs carried on and ceaselessly renewed.But even were I ignorant how thingsWere formed of primal elements, yet thisWould I have ventured to affirm, and proveNot only from the system of the heavens,But from much other evidence, that natureHas by no means been fashioned for our benefitBy divine power; so great are the defectsWhich are its bane. First, of the whole spaceCovered by the enormous reach of heaven,A greedy portion mountains occupyAnd forests of wild beasts; rocks and waste swampsPossess it, or the wide land-sundering sea.Besides, well nigh two-thirds are stolen from menBy burning heat and frost ceaselessly falling.All that is left for husbandry, even thatThe force of Nature soon would overspreadWith thorns, unless resisted by man’s force,Ever wont for his livelihood to groanOver the strong hoe, and with down-pressed ploughTo cleave the earth. For if we do not turnThe fertile clods with coulters, and subduingThe soil of earth, summon the crops to birth,They could not of their own accord spring upInto the bright air. Even then sometimes,When answering our long toil throughout the landEvery bud puts forth its leaves and flowers,Either the sun in heaven scorches themWith too much heat, or sudden gusts of rainOr nipping frosts destroy them, or wind-stormsShatter them with impetuous whirling blasts.Furthermore why does Nature multiplyAnd nourish terrible tribes of savage beastsBy land and sea, dangerous to mankind?Why does untimely death range to and fro?Then again, like a mariner cast ashoreBy raging waves, the human infant liesNaked upon the ground, speechless, in wantOf every help needful for life, when firstNature by birth-throes from his mother’s wombThrusts him into the borders of the light,So that he fills the room with piteous wailing,As well he may, whose fate in life will beTo pass through so much misery. But flocksAnd herds of divers kind, and the wild beasts,These, as they grow up, have no need of rattles:To none of them a foster-nurse must utterFond broken speech: they seek not different dressesTo suit each season: no, nor do they needWeapons nor lofty walls whereby to guardWhat is their own, since all things for them allThe Earth herself brings forth abundantly,And Nature, the creatress manifold.First of all, since the substance of the earth,Moisture, and the light breathings of the air,And burning heats, of which this sum of thingsIs seen to be composed, have all been formedOf a body that was born and that will die,Of such a body must we likewise deemThat the whole nature of the world was made.For things whose parts and members we see formedOf a body that had birth and shapes that die,These we perceive are themselves always mortal,And likewise have been born. Since then we seeThat the chief parts and members of the worldDecay and are reborn, it is no less certainThat once for heaven and earth there was a timeOf origin, and will be of destruction.Herein lest you should think that without proofI have seized this vantage, in that I have assumedEarth and fire to be mortal, and have not doubtedThat moisture and air perish, but maintainedThat these too are reborn and grow afresh,Consider first how no small part of the earthCeaselessly baked by the sun’s rays and trampledBy innumerable feet, gives off a mistAnd flying clouds of dust, which the strong windsDisperse through the whole atmosphere. Part tooOf the earth’s soil is turned to swamp by rains,While scouring rivers gnaw their banks away.Furthermore whatsoever goes to augmentSome other thing, is in its turn restored;And since beyond all doubt the all-mother EarthIs seen to be no less the general tomb,You thus may see how she is ever lessened,Yet with new growth increases evermore.Next, that the sea, the rivers and the springsAre always amply fed by new suppliesOf moisture oozing up perennially,It needs no words to explain. The vast down-flowOf waters from all sides is proof of this.But as the water that is uppermostIs always taken away, it comes to passThat on the whole there is no overflow;Partly because strong winds, sweeping the seas,Diminish them, and the sun in heaven unweavesTheir fabric with his rays; partly becauseThe water is distributed belowThroughout all lands. For the salt is strained off,And the pure fluid matter, oozing back,Gathers together at the river-heads,Thence in fresh current streams over the land,Wherever it finds a channel ready scoopedTo carry down its waves with liquid foot.Now must I speak of air, which every hourIs changed through its whole body in countless ways.For always whatsoever flows from thingsIs all borne into the vast sea of air:And if it were not in its turn to giveParticles back to things, recruiting themAs they dissolve, all would have been long sinceDisintegrated, and so changed to air.Therefore it never ceases to be bornOut of things, and to pass back into things,Since, as we know, all are in constant flux.Likewise that bounteous fountain of clear light,The sun in heaven, ceaselessly floods the skyWith fresh brightness, and momently suppliesThe place of light with new light: for each formerEmission of his radiance perishes,On whatsoever spot it falls. This truthYou may thus learn. So soon as clouds beginTo pass below the sun, and as it wereTo break off the light’s rays, their lower partForthwith perishes wholly, and the earthIs shadow-swept, wherever the clouds move.Thus you may know that things have ever needOf fresh illumination, and that eachFormer discharge of radiance perishes,Nor in any other way could things be seenIn sunlight, if the fountain-head itselfDid not send forth a perpetual supply.Also those lights we use here upon earthAt night-time, hanging lamps, and torches brightWith darting beams, rich with abundant smoke,Are in haste in like fashion to supplyNew radiance with ministering fire;The very flames seem eager, eager to flicker;Nor does the still unbroken stream of lightOne instant quit the spots whereon it played,So suddenly is its perishing concealedBy the swift birth of flame from all these fires.It is thus then you must think sun moon and starsShoot forth their light from ever fresh supplies,And that they always lose whatever beamsCome foremost; lest perchance you should believeTheir energy to be indestructible.Again, is it not seen that even stonesBy time are vanquished, that tall towers fallAnd rocks crumble away, that shrines and idolsOf gods grow worn out and dilapidate,Nor may the indwelling holiness prolongThe bounds of destiny, or strive againstThe laws of Nature? Then do we not seeThe monuments of men, fallen to ruin,Ask for themselves whether you would believeThat they also grow old?[F]See we not rocksSplit off from mountain heights fall crashing downUnable more to endure the powerful stressOf finite years? Surely they would not fallThus suddenly split off, if through the lapseOf infinite past years they had withstoodAll the assaults of time, without being shattered.Now contemplate that which around and aboveCompasses the whole earth with its embrace.If it begets all things out of itself,As some have told us, and receives them backWhen they have perished, then the whole sky is madeOf a body that had birth and that must die.For whatsoever nourishes and augmentsOther things from itself, must needs be minished,And be replenished, when it receives them back.Moreover, if there never was a timeOf origin when earth and heaven were born,If they have always been from everlasting,Why then before the Theban war and Troy’sDestruction, have not other poets sungOf other deeds as well? Whither have vanishedSo many exploits of so many men?Why are they nowhere blossoming engraftedOn the eternal monuments of fame?But in truth, as I think, this sum of thingsIs in its youth: the nature of the worldIs recent, and began not long ago.Wherefore even now some arts are being wroughtTo their last polish, some are still in growth.Of late many improvements have been madeIn navigation, and musicians tooHave given birth to new melodious sounds.Also this theory of the nature of thingsHas been discovered lately, and I myselfHave only now been found the very firstAble to turn it into our native words.Nevertheless, if you perchance believeThat long ago these things were just the same,But that the generations of mankindPerished by scorching heat, or that their citiesFell in some great convulsion of the world,Or else that flooded by incessant rainsDevouring rivers broke forth over the earthAnd swallowed up whole towns, so much the moreMust you admit that there will come to passA like destruction of earth and heaven too.For when things were assailed by such great maladiesAnd dangers, if some yet more fatal causeHad whelmed them, they would then have been dissolvedIn havoc and vast ruin far and wide.And in no other way do we perceiveThat we are mortal, save that we all alikeIn turn fall sick of the same maladiesAs those whom Nature has withdrawn from life.Again, whatever things abide eternally,Must either, because they are of solid body,Repulse assaults, nor suffer anythingTo penetrate them, which might have the powerTo disunite the close-locked parts within:(Such are those bodies whereof matter is made,Whose nature we have shown before:) or elseThey must be able to endure throughoutAll time, because they are exempt from blows,As void is, which abides untouched, nor suffersOne whit from any stroke: or else becauseThere is no further space surrounding them,Into which things might as it were departAnd be dissolved; even as the sum of sumsIs eternal, nor is there any spaceOutside it, into which its particlesMight spring asunder, nor are there other bodiesThat could strike and dissolve them with strong blows.But neither, as I have shown, is this world’s natureSolid, since there is void mixed up in things;Nor yet is it like void; nor verilyAre atoms lacking that might well collectOut of the infinite, and overwhelmThis sum of things with violent hurricane,Or threaten it with some other form of ruin;Nor further is there any want of roomAnd of deep space, into which the world’s wallsMight be dispersed abroad; or they may perishShattered by any other force you will.Therefore the gates of death are never closedAgainst sky, sun or earth, or the deep seas;But they stand open, awaiting them with hugeVast-gaping jaws. So you must needs admitThat all these likewise once were born: for thingsOf mortal body could not until nowThrough infinite past ages have defiedThe strong powers of immeasurable time.Again, since the chief members of the worldSo mightily contend together, stirredBy unhallowed civil warfare, see you notThat some end may be set to their long strife?It may be when the sun and every kindOf heat shall have drunk all the moisture up,And gained the mastery they were struggling for,Though they have failed as yet to achieve their aim:So vast are the supplies the rivers bring,Threatening in turn to deluge every landFrom out the deep abysses of the ocean;All in vain, since the winds, sweeping the seas,Diminish them, and the sun in heaven unweavesTheir fabric with his rays; and ’tis their boastThat they are able to dry all things up,Before moisture can achieve its end.So terrible a war do they breathe outOn equal terms, striving one with anotherFor mighty issues: though indeed fire onceObtained the mastery, so the fable tells,And water once reigned supreme in the fields.For fire prevailing licked up and consumedMany things, when the ungovernable mightOf the Sun’s horses, swerving from their course,Through the whole sky and over every landWhirled Phaëthon. But then the almighty Father,Stirred to fierce wrath, with sudden thunder-strokeDashed great-souled Phaëthon from his team to the earth,And as he fell the Sun-god meeting himCaught from him the world’s everlasting lamp,And brought back tamed and trembling to the yokeThe scattered steeds; then on their wonted courseGuiding them, unto all things gave fresh life.Thus verily the old Greek poets sang,Though straying from true reason all too far.For fire can only gain the masteryWhen an excess of fiery particlesHave flocked together out of infinite space;And then its strength fails, vanquished in some way,Or else things perish, utterly consumedBy scorching gusts. Likewise moisture onceGathering together, as the story tells,Strove for the mastery, when it overwhelmedMany cities of mankind. But afterwards,When all that force, which out of infinite spaceHad gathered itself up, was by some meansDiverted and withdrew, the rains ceased then,And the violence of the rivers was abated.But in what ways matter converging onceEstablished earth and heaven and the sea’s deeps,The sun’s course and the moon’s, I will set forthIn order. For in truth not by designDid the primordial particles of thingsArrange themselves each in its own right placeWith provident mind, nor verily have they bargainedWhat motions each should follow; but becauseThese primal atoms in such multitudesAnd in so many ways through infinite timeImpelled by blows and moved by their own weight,Have been borne onward so incessantly,Uniting in every way and making trialOf every shape they could combine to form,Therefore it is that after wandering wideThrough vast periods, attempting every kindOf union and of motion, they at lastCollect into such groups as, suddenlyFlocking together, oftentimes becomeThe rudiments of mighty things, of earth,Sea and sky, and the race of living creatures.At that time neither could the disk of the sunBe seen flying aloft with bounteous light,Nor the stars of great heaven, nor sea, nor sky,Nor yet earth nor the air, nor anythingResembling those things which we now behold,But only a sort of strange tempest, a massGathered together out of primal atomsOf all kinds, which discordantly waged warDisordering so their interspaces, paths,Connections, weights, collisions, meetings, motions,Since with their unlike forms and varied shapes,They could not therefore all remain united,Nor move among themselves harmoniously.Thereupon parts began to fly asunder,And like things to unite with like, and soTo separate off the world, and to divideIts members, portioning out its mighty parts;That is, to mark off the high heaven from earth,And the sea by itself, that it might spreadWith unmixed waters, and likewise the firesOf aether by themselves, pure and unmixed.Now first the several particles of earth,Since they were heavy and close-packed, all metTogether in the middle, and took upThe lowest places: and the more they metIn close-packed throngs, the more did they squeeze outThose particles which were to form sea, stars,Sun and moon, and the walls of the great world.For all these are of smoother rounder seeds,And of much smaller elements than earth.So first through porous openings in the soilThe fire-laden aether here and thereBursting forth rose and lightly carried offMany fires with it, much in the same wayAs often we may see when first the beamsOf the radiant sun with golden morning lightBlush through the grasses gemmed with dew, and lakesAnd ever-flowing rivers exhale mist,While earth itself is sometimes seen to smoke;And when floating aloft these vapours allUnite on high, then taking bodily shapeAs clouds, they weave a veil beneath the heavens.Thus then the light diffusive aether onceTook bodily shape, and, arched round on all sides,Far into every quarter spreading out,So with its greedy embrace hemmed in all else.Next came the rudiments of sun and moon,Whose globes turn in the air midway betweenAether and earth; for neither did the earthNor the great aether claim them for itself,Since they were not so heavy as to sinkAnd settle down, nor so light as to glideAlong the topmost borders: yet their courseBetween the two is such, that as they rollTheir lifelike bodies onward, they are stillParts of the whole world; even as with usSome of our members may remain at rest,While at the same time others may be in motion.So when these things had been withdrawn, the earth,Where now the ocean’s vast blue region spreads,Sank suddenly down, and flooded with salt surgeIts hollow parts. And day by day the moreThe encircling aether’s heats and the sun’s raysCompressed the earth into a closer massBy constant blows upon its outer surfaceFrom every side, so that thus beaten uponIt shrank and drew together round its centre,The more did the salt sweat squeezed from its bodyIncrease by its oozings the sea’s floating plains,And the more did those many particlesOf heat and air escaping fly abroad,And far away from the earth condensing, formThe lofty glittering mansions of the sky.The plains sank lower, the high mountains grewYet steeper; for the rocks could not sink down,Nor could all parts subside to one same level.
Whois there that by energy of mindCould build a poem worthy of our theme’sMajesty and of these discoveries?Or who has such a mastery of wordsAs to devise praises proportionateTo his deserts, who to us has bequeathedSuch prizes, earned by his own intellect?No man, I think, formed of a mortal body.For if we are to speak as the acknowledgedMajesty of our theme demands, a godWas he, most noble Memmius, a god,Who first found out that discipline of lifeWhich now is called philosophy, and whose skillFrom such great billows and a gloom so darkDelivered life, and steered it into a calmSo peaceful and beneath so bright a light.For compare the divine discoveriesOf others in old times. ’Tis told that CeresFirst revealed corn to men, Liber the juiceOf grape-born wine; though life without these thingsMight well have been sustained; and even now’Tis said there are some people that live so.But to live happily was not possibleWithout a serene mind. Therefore more justlyIs this man deemed by us a god, from whomCame those sweet solaces of life, which nowAlready through great nations spread abroadHave power to soothe men’s minds. Should you supposeMoreover that the deeds of HerculesSurpass his, then yet further will you driftOut of true reason’s course. For what harm nowWould those great gaping jaws of Nemea’s lionDo to us, and the bristly Arcadian boar?What could the bull of Crete, or Lerna’s pestThe Hydra fenced around with venomous snakes,And threefold Gerion’s triple-breasted might,Or those brazen-plumed birds inhabitingStymphalian swamps, what injury so greatCould they inflict upon us, or the steedsOf Thracian Diomede, with fire-breathing nostrilsRanging Bistonia’s wilds and Ismarus?Also the serpent, guardian of the brightGold-gleaming apples of the Hesperides,Fierce and grim-glancing, with huge body coiledRound the tree’s stem, how were it possibleHe could molest us by the Atlantic shoreAnd those lone seas, where none of us sets foot,And no barbarian ventures to draw near?And all those other monsters which likewiseHave been destroyed, if they had not been vanquished,What harm, pray, could they do, though now alive?None, I presume: for the earth even now aboundsWith wild beasts to repletion, and is filledWith shuddering terror throughout its woods, great mountainsAnd deep forests, regions which we have powerFor the most part to avoid. But if the heartHas not been purged, what tumults then, what dangersMust needs invade us in our own despite!What fierce anxieties, offspring of desire,Rend the distracted man, what mastering fears!Pride also, sordid avarice, and violence,Of what calamities are not they the cause!Luxury too, and slothfulness! He thereforeWho could subdue all these, and banish themOut of our minds by force of words, not arms,Is it not right we should deem such a manWorthy to be numbered among the gods?The more that he was wont in beautifulAnd godlike speech to utter many truthsAbout the immortal gods themselves, and setThe whole nature of things in clear words forth.
I, in his footsteps treading, follow outHis reasonings and expound in my discourseBy what law all things are created, howThey are compelled to abide within that law,Without power to annul the immutableDecrees of time; and first above all elseThe mind’s nature was found to be composedOf a body that had birth, without the powerTo endure through a long period unscathed:For it was found to be mere imagesThat are wont to deceive the mind in sleep,Whenever we appear to behold oneWhom life has abandoned. Now, for what remains,The order of my argument has brought meTo the point where I must show both how the worldIs composed of a body which must die,Also that it was born; and in what wayMatter once congregating and unitingEstablished earth sky sea, the stars, the sun,And the moon’s globe: also what living creaturesRose from the earth, and which were those that neverAt any time were born: next in what wayMankind began to employ varied speechOne with another by giving names to things:Then for what causes that fear of the godsEntered their breasts, and now through the whole worldGives sanctity to shrines, lakes and groves,Altars and images of gods. MoreoverI will make plain by what force and controlNature pilots the courses of the sunAnd the wanderings of the moon, lest we perchanceDeem that they traverse of their own free willTheir yearly orbits between heaven and earth,Obsequiously furthering the increaseOf crops and living things, or should supposeThat they roll onwards by the gods’ design.For those who have learnt rightly that the godsLead a life free from care, if yet they wonderBy what means all things can be carried on,Such above all as are perceived to happenIn the ethereal regions overhead,They are borne back again into their oldReligious fears, and adopt pitiless lords,Whom in their misery they believe to beAlmighty; for they are ignorant of what canAnd what cannot exist; in fine they know notUpon what principle each thing has its powersLimited, and its deep-set boundary stone.
But now, lest I detain you with more promises,In the first place consider, Memmius,The seas, the land, the sky, whose threefold nature,Three bodies, three forms so dissimilar,And three such wondrous textures, a single dayShall give to destruction, and the world’s vast massAnd fabric, for so many years upheld,Shall fall to ruin. Nor am I unawareHow novel and strange, when first it strikes the mind,Must appear this destruction of earth and heavenThat is to be, and for myself how difficultIt will prove to convince you by mere words,As happens when one brings to a man’s earsSome notion unfamiliar hitherto,If yet one cannot thrust it visiblyBeneath his eyes, or place it in his hands;For the paved highway of belief through touchAnd sight leads straightest into the human heartAnd the precincts of the mind. Yet none the lessI will speak out. Reality itselfIt may be will bring credence to my words,And in a little while you will beholdThe earth terribly quaking, and all thingsShattered to ruins. But may pilot fortuneSteer far from us such disaster, and may reasonConvince us rather than realityThat the whole universe may well collapse,Tumbling together with a dread crash and roar.
But before I attempt concerning thisTo announce fate’s oracles in more holy wise,And with assurance far more rationalThan doth the Pythoness, when from the tripodAnd laurel wreath of Phoebus her voice sounds,Many consolatories will I firstExpound to you in learned words, lest haplyCurbed by religion’s bit you should supposeThat earth and sun and sky, sea, stars and moon,Their substance being divine, must needs abideEternally, and should therefore think it justThat all, after the manner of the giants,Should suffer penance for their monstrous guiltWho by their reasoning shake the world’s firm walls,And fain would quench the glorious sun in heaven,Shaming with mortal speech immortal things;Though in fact such objects are so far removedFrom any share in divine energy,And so unworthy to be accounted gods,That they may be considered with more reasonTo afford us the conception of what is quiteDevoid of vital motion and of sense.For truly by no means can we supposeThat the nature and judgment of the mindCan exist linked with every kind of body,Even as in the sky trees cannot exist,Nor clouds in the salt waters, nor can fishLive in the fields, neither can blood be foundIn wood, nor sap in stones: but where each thingCan dwell and grow, is determined and ordained.Even so the nature of mind cannot be bornAlone without a body, nor existSeparated from sinews and from blood.But if (for this is likelier by far)The mind’s force might reside within the headOr shoulders, or be born down in the heels,Or in any part you will, it would at leastInhabit the same man and the same vessel.But since even in our body it is seenTo be determined and ordained where soulAnd mind can separately dwell and grow,All the more must it be denied that mindCannot have being quite outside a bodyAnd a living form, in crumbling clods of earth,In the sun’s fire, or water, or aloftIn the domains of ether. Such things thereforeAre not endowed with divine consciousness,Because they cannot be quickened into life.
This too you cannot possibly believe,That there are holy abodes of deitiesAnywhere in the world. For so tenuousIs the nature of gods, and from our sensesSo far withdrawn, that hardly can the mindImagine it. And seeing that hithertoIt has eluded touch or blow of hands,It must touch nothing which for us is tangible:For naught can touch that may not itself be touched.So even their abodes must be unlikeOur own, tenuous as their bodies are.All this hereafter I will prove to youBy plentiful argument. Further, to sayThat for the sake of mankind the gods willedTo frame the wondrous nature of the world,And that on this account we ought to extolTheir handiwork as worthy of all praise,And to believe that it will prove eternalAnd indestructible, and to think it sinEver by any effort to disturbWhat by the ancient wisdom of the godsHas been established everlastinglyFor mankind’s benefit, or by argumentTo assail and overthrow it utterlyFrom top to bottom, and to invent besidesOther such errors—all this, Memmius,Is folly. For what advantage could our thanksBestow upon immortal and blessed beingsThat for our sakes they should bestir themselvesTo perform any task? Or what new factCould have induced them, tranquil hitherto,After so long to change their former life?For it seems fitting he should take delightIn a new state of things, to whom the oldWas painful: but for him whom in past times,While he was living in felicity,No evil had befallen, for such a oneWhat could have kindled a desire for change?Must we imagine that their life lay prostrateIn darkness and in misery, till the birthAnd origin of things first dawned upon them?Besides, what evil had it been to usNot to have been created? For whoeverHas once been born, must wish to abide in lifeSo long as luring pleasure bids him stay:But one who has never tasted the love of life,Nor even been numbered in life’s ranks, what harmWere it for him not to have been created?Again whence first was implanted in the godsA pattern for begetting things? Whence tooThe preconception of what men should be,So that they knew and imaged in their mindsWhat they desired to make? And by what meansCould they have ever ascertained the energyLatent in primal atoms, or what formsMight be produced by changes in their order,Unless Nature herself had given them firstA sample of creation? For indeedThese primal atoms in such multitudesAnd in so many ways, through infinite timeImpelled by blows and moved by their own weight,Have been borne onward so incessantly,Uniting in every way and making trialOf every shape they could combine to form,That ’tis not strange if they have also fallenInto such grouping, and acquired such motionsAs those whereby the present sum of thingsIs carried on and ceaselessly renewed.
But even were I ignorant how thingsWere formed of primal elements, yet thisWould I have ventured to affirm, and proveNot only from the system of the heavens,But from much other evidence, that natureHas by no means been fashioned for our benefitBy divine power; so great are the defectsWhich are its bane. First, of the whole spaceCovered by the enormous reach of heaven,A greedy portion mountains occupyAnd forests of wild beasts; rocks and waste swampsPossess it, or the wide land-sundering sea.Besides, well nigh two-thirds are stolen from menBy burning heat and frost ceaselessly falling.All that is left for husbandry, even thatThe force of Nature soon would overspreadWith thorns, unless resisted by man’s force,Ever wont for his livelihood to groanOver the strong hoe, and with down-pressed ploughTo cleave the earth. For if we do not turnThe fertile clods with coulters, and subduingThe soil of earth, summon the crops to birth,They could not of their own accord spring upInto the bright air. Even then sometimes,When answering our long toil throughout the landEvery bud puts forth its leaves and flowers,Either the sun in heaven scorches themWith too much heat, or sudden gusts of rainOr nipping frosts destroy them, or wind-stormsShatter them with impetuous whirling blasts.Furthermore why does Nature multiplyAnd nourish terrible tribes of savage beastsBy land and sea, dangerous to mankind?Why does untimely death range to and fro?Then again, like a mariner cast ashoreBy raging waves, the human infant liesNaked upon the ground, speechless, in wantOf every help needful for life, when firstNature by birth-throes from his mother’s wombThrusts him into the borders of the light,So that he fills the room with piteous wailing,As well he may, whose fate in life will beTo pass through so much misery. But flocksAnd herds of divers kind, and the wild beasts,These, as they grow up, have no need of rattles:To none of them a foster-nurse must utterFond broken speech: they seek not different dressesTo suit each season: no, nor do they needWeapons nor lofty walls whereby to guardWhat is their own, since all things for them allThe Earth herself brings forth abundantly,And Nature, the creatress manifold.
First of all, since the substance of the earth,Moisture, and the light breathings of the air,And burning heats, of which this sum of thingsIs seen to be composed, have all been formedOf a body that was born and that will die,Of such a body must we likewise deemThat the whole nature of the world was made.For things whose parts and members we see formedOf a body that had birth and shapes that die,These we perceive are themselves always mortal,And likewise have been born. Since then we seeThat the chief parts and members of the worldDecay and are reborn, it is no less certainThat once for heaven and earth there was a timeOf origin, and will be of destruction.
Herein lest you should think that without proofI have seized this vantage, in that I have assumedEarth and fire to be mortal, and have not doubtedThat moisture and air perish, but maintainedThat these too are reborn and grow afresh,Consider first how no small part of the earthCeaselessly baked by the sun’s rays and trampledBy innumerable feet, gives off a mistAnd flying clouds of dust, which the strong windsDisperse through the whole atmosphere. Part tooOf the earth’s soil is turned to swamp by rains,While scouring rivers gnaw their banks away.Furthermore whatsoever goes to augmentSome other thing, is in its turn restored;And since beyond all doubt the all-mother EarthIs seen to be no less the general tomb,You thus may see how she is ever lessened,Yet with new growth increases evermore.
Next, that the sea, the rivers and the springsAre always amply fed by new suppliesOf moisture oozing up perennially,It needs no words to explain. The vast down-flowOf waters from all sides is proof of this.But as the water that is uppermostIs always taken away, it comes to passThat on the whole there is no overflow;Partly because strong winds, sweeping the seas,Diminish them, and the sun in heaven unweavesTheir fabric with his rays; partly becauseThe water is distributed belowThroughout all lands. For the salt is strained off,And the pure fluid matter, oozing back,Gathers together at the river-heads,Thence in fresh current streams over the land,Wherever it finds a channel ready scoopedTo carry down its waves with liquid foot.
Now must I speak of air, which every hourIs changed through its whole body in countless ways.For always whatsoever flows from thingsIs all borne into the vast sea of air:And if it were not in its turn to giveParticles back to things, recruiting themAs they dissolve, all would have been long sinceDisintegrated, and so changed to air.Therefore it never ceases to be bornOut of things, and to pass back into things,Since, as we know, all are in constant flux.
Likewise that bounteous fountain of clear light,The sun in heaven, ceaselessly floods the skyWith fresh brightness, and momently suppliesThe place of light with new light: for each formerEmission of his radiance perishes,On whatsoever spot it falls. This truthYou may thus learn. So soon as clouds beginTo pass below the sun, and as it wereTo break off the light’s rays, their lower partForthwith perishes wholly, and the earthIs shadow-swept, wherever the clouds move.Thus you may know that things have ever needOf fresh illumination, and that eachFormer discharge of radiance perishes,Nor in any other way could things be seenIn sunlight, if the fountain-head itselfDid not send forth a perpetual supply.Also those lights we use here upon earthAt night-time, hanging lamps, and torches brightWith darting beams, rich with abundant smoke,Are in haste in like fashion to supplyNew radiance with ministering fire;The very flames seem eager, eager to flicker;Nor does the still unbroken stream of lightOne instant quit the spots whereon it played,So suddenly is its perishing concealedBy the swift birth of flame from all these fires.It is thus then you must think sun moon and starsShoot forth their light from ever fresh supplies,And that they always lose whatever beamsCome foremost; lest perchance you should believeTheir energy to be indestructible.
Again, is it not seen that even stonesBy time are vanquished, that tall towers fallAnd rocks crumble away, that shrines and idolsOf gods grow worn out and dilapidate,Nor may the indwelling holiness prolongThe bounds of destiny, or strive againstThe laws of Nature? Then do we not seeThe monuments of men, fallen to ruin,Ask for themselves whether you would believeThat they also grow old?[F]See we not rocksSplit off from mountain heights fall crashing downUnable more to endure the powerful stressOf finite years? Surely they would not fallThus suddenly split off, if through the lapseOf infinite past years they had withstoodAll the assaults of time, without being shattered.Now contemplate that which around and aboveCompasses the whole earth with its embrace.If it begets all things out of itself,As some have told us, and receives them backWhen they have perished, then the whole sky is madeOf a body that had birth and that must die.For whatsoever nourishes and augmentsOther things from itself, must needs be minished,And be replenished, when it receives them back.
Moreover, if there never was a timeOf origin when earth and heaven were born,If they have always been from everlasting,Why then before the Theban war and Troy’sDestruction, have not other poets sungOf other deeds as well? Whither have vanishedSo many exploits of so many men?Why are they nowhere blossoming engraftedOn the eternal monuments of fame?But in truth, as I think, this sum of thingsIs in its youth: the nature of the worldIs recent, and began not long ago.Wherefore even now some arts are being wroughtTo their last polish, some are still in growth.Of late many improvements have been madeIn navigation, and musicians tooHave given birth to new melodious sounds.Also this theory of the nature of thingsHas been discovered lately, and I myselfHave only now been found the very firstAble to turn it into our native words.Nevertheless, if you perchance believeThat long ago these things were just the same,But that the generations of mankindPerished by scorching heat, or that their citiesFell in some great convulsion of the world,Or else that flooded by incessant rainsDevouring rivers broke forth over the earthAnd swallowed up whole towns, so much the moreMust you admit that there will come to passA like destruction of earth and heaven too.For when things were assailed by such great maladiesAnd dangers, if some yet more fatal causeHad whelmed them, they would then have been dissolvedIn havoc and vast ruin far and wide.And in no other way do we perceiveThat we are mortal, save that we all alikeIn turn fall sick of the same maladiesAs those whom Nature has withdrawn from life.
Again, whatever things abide eternally,Must either, because they are of solid body,Repulse assaults, nor suffer anythingTo penetrate them, which might have the powerTo disunite the close-locked parts within:(Such are those bodies whereof matter is made,Whose nature we have shown before:) or elseThey must be able to endure throughoutAll time, because they are exempt from blows,As void is, which abides untouched, nor suffersOne whit from any stroke: or else becauseThere is no further space surrounding them,Into which things might as it were departAnd be dissolved; even as the sum of sumsIs eternal, nor is there any spaceOutside it, into which its particlesMight spring asunder, nor are there other bodiesThat could strike and dissolve them with strong blows.But neither, as I have shown, is this world’s natureSolid, since there is void mixed up in things;Nor yet is it like void; nor verilyAre atoms lacking that might well collectOut of the infinite, and overwhelmThis sum of things with violent hurricane,Or threaten it with some other form of ruin;Nor further is there any want of roomAnd of deep space, into which the world’s wallsMight be dispersed abroad; or they may perishShattered by any other force you will.Therefore the gates of death are never closedAgainst sky, sun or earth, or the deep seas;But they stand open, awaiting them with hugeVast-gaping jaws. So you must needs admitThat all these likewise once were born: for thingsOf mortal body could not until nowThrough infinite past ages have defiedThe strong powers of immeasurable time.
Again, since the chief members of the worldSo mightily contend together, stirredBy unhallowed civil warfare, see you notThat some end may be set to their long strife?It may be when the sun and every kindOf heat shall have drunk all the moisture up,And gained the mastery they were struggling for,Though they have failed as yet to achieve their aim:So vast are the supplies the rivers bring,Threatening in turn to deluge every landFrom out the deep abysses of the ocean;All in vain, since the winds, sweeping the seas,Diminish them, and the sun in heaven unweavesTheir fabric with his rays; and ’tis their boastThat they are able to dry all things up,Before moisture can achieve its end.So terrible a war do they breathe outOn equal terms, striving one with anotherFor mighty issues: though indeed fire onceObtained the mastery, so the fable tells,And water once reigned supreme in the fields.For fire prevailing licked up and consumedMany things, when the ungovernable mightOf the Sun’s horses, swerving from their course,Through the whole sky and over every landWhirled Phaëthon. But then the almighty Father,Stirred to fierce wrath, with sudden thunder-strokeDashed great-souled Phaëthon from his team to the earth,And as he fell the Sun-god meeting himCaught from him the world’s everlasting lamp,And brought back tamed and trembling to the yokeThe scattered steeds; then on their wonted courseGuiding them, unto all things gave fresh life.Thus verily the old Greek poets sang,Though straying from true reason all too far.For fire can only gain the masteryWhen an excess of fiery particlesHave flocked together out of infinite space;And then its strength fails, vanquished in some way,Or else things perish, utterly consumedBy scorching gusts. Likewise moisture onceGathering together, as the story tells,Strove for the mastery, when it overwhelmedMany cities of mankind. But afterwards,When all that force, which out of infinite spaceHad gathered itself up, was by some meansDiverted and withdrew, the rains ceased then,And the violence of the rivers was abated.
But in what ways matter converging onceEstablished earth and heaven and the sea’s deeps,The sun’s course and the moon’s, I will set forthIn order. For in truth not by designDid the primordial particles of thingsArrange themselves each in its own right placeWith provident mind, nor verily have they bargainedWhat motions each should follow; but becauseThese primal atoms in such multitudesAnd in so many ways through infinite timeImpelled by blows and moved by their own weight,Have been borne onward so incessantly,Uniting in every way and making trialOf every shape they could combine to form,Therefore it is that after wandering wideThrough vast periods, attempting every kindOf union and of motion, they at lastCollect into such groups as, suddenlyFlocking together, oftentimes becomeThe rudiments of mighty things, of earth,Sea and sky, and the race of living creatures.
At that time neither could the disk of the sunBe seen flying aloft with bounteous light,Nor the stars of great heaven, nor sea, nor sky,Nor yet earth nor the air, nor anythingResembling those things which we now behold,But only a sort of strange tempest, a massGathered together out of primal atomsOf all kinds, which discordantly waged warDisordering so their interspaces, paths,Connections, weights, collisions, meetings, motions,Since with their unlike forms and varied shapes,They could not therefore all remain united,Nor move among themselves harmoniously.Thereupon parts began to fly asunder,And like things to unite with like, and soTo separate off the world, and to divideIts members, portioning out its mighty parts;That is, to mark off the high heaven from earth,And the sea by itself, that it might spreadWith unmixed waters, and likewise the firesOf aether by themselves, pure and unmixed.
Now first the several particles of earth,Since they were heavy and close-packed, all metTogether in the middle, and took upThe lowest places: and the more they metIn close-packed throngs, the more did they squeeze outThose particles which were to form sea, stars,Sun and moon, and the walls of the great world.For all these are of smoother rounder seeds,And of much smaller elements than earth.So first through porous openings in the soilThe fire-laden aether here and thereBursting forth rose and lightly carried offMany fires with it, much in the same wayAs often we may see when first the beamsOf the radiant sun with golden morning lightBlush through the grasses gemmed with dew, and lakesAnd ever-flowing rivers exhale mist,While earth itself is sometimes seen to smoke;And when floating aloft these vapours allUnite on high, then taking bodily shapeAs clouds, they weave a veil beneath the heavens.Thus then the light diffusive aether onceTook bodily shape, and, arched round on all sides,Far into every quarter spreading out,So with its greedy embrace hemmed in all else.Next came the rudiments of sun and moon,Whose globes turn in the air midway betweenAether and earth; for neither did the earthNor the great aether claim them for itself,Since they were not so heavy as to sinkAnd settle down, nor so light as to glideAlong the topmost borders: yet their courseBetween the two is such, that as they rollTheir lifelike bodies onward, they are stillParts of the whole world; even as with usSome of our members may remain at rest,While at the same time others may be in motion.So when these things had been withdrawn, the earth,Where now the ocean’s vast blue region spreads,Sank suddenly down, and flooded with salt surgeIts hollow parts. And day by day the moreThe encircling aether’s heats and the sun’s raysCompressed the earth into a closer massBy constant blows upon its outer surfaceFrom every side, so that thus beaten uponIt shrank and drew together round its centre,The more did the salt sweat squeezed from its bodyIncrease by its oozings the sea’s floating plains,And the more did those many particlesOf heat and air escaping fly abroad,And far away from the earth condensing, formThe lofty glittering mansions of the sky.The plains sank lower, the high mountains grewYet steeper; for the rocks could not sink down,Nor could all parts subside to one same level.