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HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY

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LUCRETIUS

OJI

THE NATURE OF THINGS.

A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM,

LITERALLY TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE, BY THE

EEV. JOHN SELBY WATSON, M. A.

HEAD MASTER OV THE PROPRIETARY GRAMMAR SCHOOL, STOCXWELL.

TO WHICH IS ADJOINED

THE POETICAL VERSION

OF JOHN MASON GOOD.

LONDON : HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

MDCCCLI.

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JOHN CHILDS AND SON, -BUNGAY.'

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PREFACE.

My business has been to give, in the following pages^ a literal translation of the six books of Lucretius.

This task I have careftilly performed ; and it will, I trust, be no presumption to say, that he who wishes to know what is in Lucretius, without perusing the original, will leam it from this volume with greater certainty than from any other previously offered to the English reader.

The text immediately followed is that of Forbiger, which may, indeed, be rather called Wakefield's, for the one varies but litde from the other. But I have not dis- missed a single page of the translation without consulting the texts of Lambinus, Creech, and Havercamp, which are substantially the same, and, in many instances, far more satisfactory than Forbiger's.

Concerning all disputed or obscure passages, I have diligently examined the commentators, especially Lam- binus, who is almost instar omnium^ Creech, and Wake- field; and have added explanatory notes, respecting

IV PREFACE.

either the subject matter, or the translation of particular words or phrases.

The words which it has been found necessary to sup- ply are distinguished by Italics.

Where a participle and a verb, having a similax signi- fication, come together in construction, they have occa- sionally been rendered as two verbs. Thus sparsus disficiturwovli be translated is scattered and dispersed.

The particle jam is sometimes omitted, and where a succession of copulative conjunctions occurs, which Lu- cretius uses superabundantly, one has occasionally been left out in the translation, or been rendered by while y as well asy or in some similar way, for the sake of variety. Any other deviations from the structure of the text, which in the least concern the student, are pointed out in the notes.

Tu and turn, in the addresses of the poet to Memmius or the general reader, are sometimes translated by thou and thine, and sometimes by you and your. Where Lucretius seemed to be particularly earnest, I have adopted the former mode, and in other cases the latter.

J. S. W.

REMARKS

ON THE

LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS.

Of the life of Lucretius but little information has reached us. Ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura.

That he was a Boman by birth, is inferred from the pas- sages in his poem in which he speaks of the Roman world as his country,^ and of the Roman language as his native tongue.^

Ajs to the time of his birth, it is stated by Eusebius in his Chronicon, that he was bom in the second year of the hundred and seventy-jQrst Olympiad, or ninety-five years before Christ. At this period, Ennius had been dead about seventy years ; Cicero was in his twelfth year; twenty-five years were to elapse before the birth of Virgil, and four before that of Julius Caesar. His st3rle, indeed, would make him seem older, but its antiquated character may be partly affected, in imitation, perhaps, of Ennius, for whom he expresses great veneration.^

Concerning his family nothing is known. The name of Lucretius, from the time of Lucretia downwards, occurs fre- quently in the history of Rome, with the surnames Tricipiti- nus, Cinna, OfeUa, and others, attached to it ; but with whom the poet was connected, or from whom descended, it is impossi- ble to discover. There was a Lucretius Vespillo contemporary with him, a senator, mentioned by Cicero^ and Caasar,^ of whom Lambinus conjectures that he may have been the brother; suggesting that the one brother, by engaging in public life, might have attained senatorial dignity, while the other, devoting himself to literature and retirement, might have

' Nam neque nos agere hoc patriai tempore iniquo, etc. i. 42.

» L 31; iii. 259. » I, 118.

* Cic brut. c. 48. * b. c. i. 18; iii. 7.

VI REMARKS ON THE

continued in the equestrian or even plebeian rank, in which he was bom. But all this is mere empty conjecture.

Equally groundless is the supposition, started also by Lam- binus, that in his youth he went to Athens to study, and there, under the instruction of Zieno, who was then at the head of the Epicureans, became imbued with the doctrines of Epi- curus. That he attached himself to the tenets of Epicurus is certain, but when oi' where he studied them is not now to be ascertained.

Dunlop, however, asserts that "Lucretius was senty with other young Romans of rank, to study at Athens." * Thus it is that errors creep into biography and history ; the learned conjecture, and the less learned affirm. Lambinus suggests that Lucretius might have gone to Athens, Dunlop states that he did go ; Lambinus says that it is probable, Dunlop says it is fact.

He wrote his poem, or part of it, as appears from a passage near the beginning of the first book,^ at a time when the Roman commonwealth was in a disturbed state ; but whether the disorders to which he aUudes were, as is generally supposed, those excited by Catiline, or, as Forbiger suggests, those which were raised by Clodius eight years afterwards, there is no means of deciding.

His poem and his life, if we may trust Eusebius, were ended in the manner following. " Having been driven to madness by an amatory potion, and having composed several books in the intervals of his insanity, which Cicero afterwards cor* rected, he died by his own hand in the forty-fourth year of his age." By whom the potion was administered, is conjec- tured only from a passage in St. Jerome, who says that a cer- tain Lucilia killed her husband or her lover, by giving him a philtre which was intended to secure his love, but of which the effect was to render him insane.* This Lucilia is supposed to have been the wife or mistress of Lucretius, but by whom the supposition was first made, I am not able to discover.

He is said by Donatus, or whoever wrote the old Life of Virgil, to have died on the day on which Virgil assumed the toga viriUs,

* Hist, of Rom. Lit. vol. i. p. 417. * !• 42.

' Epist. Dissuas. ad Rufinum, c. 22, torn. xi. p. 245 ed. Veron.

LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETTOS. Vll

That Cicero corrected what he vn'ote, there is, except from the passage in Eusebius, no indication.

From a passage in Varro,^ it has been concluded that he wrote many more books than have reached us ; for " Lucre- tius," says he, "suorum unius et viginti librorum initium fecit hoc : -ffitheris et terrae genitabilo quaerere tempus." But Lambinus has very plausibly conjectured that for Lu- cretius should be substituted Lucilius, or the name of some other writer unknown to us. This is the more probable, observes Eichstadt, as Varro was older than Lucretius, and was not accustomed to draw examples and testimonies from younger writers.

From the six books, as they now stand, there is no infer- ence to be drawn that more were written. That something more was intended is perhaps true ; for when we consider how the sixth book breaks off, we must either suppose that he designed to write a conclusion to it, or that he meant an- other book to follow. He signifies, however,^ that he was drawing to the conclusion of his undertaking ; and, indeed, the doctrines of Epicurus are so fully set forth in the six books, that little more could have been added respecting them.

It is true that there are two or three allusions among the grammarians to passages and verses which are not now found in the six books ; allusions which have led to the belief that there were more books, but which, with other considerations, led Spalding, the editor of Quintilian,^ to the suspicion that there were two editions given by the author himself, and that, though the second was generally followed, the first was not quite forgotten. Thus the 937th verse of the first book, which is now read,

" Contingunt mellis dulci flavoque liquore," is cited by Quintilian,

" Aspirant mellis dulci flavoque liquore."

And Servius, on those lines in the Georgics,^

" Non ego cuncta meis amplecti versibus op to ; Non mihi si Ungua; centum sint oraquo centum, Ferrea vox,"

' De L. L. v. p. 27, ed. Spengel. ^ vi. 45, 91.

» Inst. Or. iii. 1, 4. ♦ IF. 42.

Vlll REMARKS ON THE

says, " The verses are Lucretius's ; but he has (Bnea vox, not ferreai" verses which are not now to be found in Lucretius. This notion of two editions Eichstadt has noticed at some length in his dissertation, De Lucretii Vita et Carmine ; and Forbiger has written a long essay to show that Lucretius's verses have been much altered. " Fateor enim," says For- biger,^ " ex quo primi^m Lucretii carmen, studiosius perlege- riin operamque meam ei navaverim, plures mihi oblatas esse causas suspicandi, nobis in his sex de rerum natura libris non unius Lucretii, sed duorum scriptorum long^ diversorum manum agnoscendam, ideoque hunc etiam auctorem iis annu^ merandum esse, quorum scripta a serioribus multis in locis mutata, aucta vel contracta, emendata vel corrupta, denique long^ alia ab ea, quam auctor ipsis dederit, formd induta, ad nostra tempora pervenerint." " I confess, that since I first read the poem of Lucretius with attention, and bestowed serious labour upon it, many reasons occurred to me for sus- pecting that, in these six books concerning the nature of things, we have to recognise, not the hand of Lucretius alone, but those of two writers of far different characters ; and that this author is therefore to be numbered with those, whose works have come down to us altered in many places by later writers ; having been augmented or diminished in bulk, amended or corrupted, and invested with a different form from that which the author himself gave them." But per- haps, in the case of Lucretius, the variations which we find in the verses which are cited from him, are to be attributed, not to any regular revision or emendation of his writings, but to the casual mistakes of transcribers, and the lapse of memory in grammarians. Perhaps also passages, containing verses cited by Servius and others, have been lost. Lach- mann, the last editor, finds, or imagines that he finds, defi- ciencies in several pages.

The Memmius to whom the poem is addressed, was, as Lambinus and others think, Caius Memmius Gemellus, a Roman knight, who is described by Cicero*'^ as "a learned man, well-read in Greek, but disdainful of Latin literature ; a clever orator, and of an agreeable style ; but shrinking from the labour, not only of speaking, but even of thinking ; and

* De Lucretii Carmine, p. 6. ' Brut. 70.

LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. ix

doing injustice to his ability hj his want of industry." He became prsetor, and after his prsetorship had the province of Bithynia, to which he was accompanied by Catullus the poet. Being supported by Caesar, he stood for the consulship, but was unsuccessful, and, after being accused and condemned of bribery, went into exile at Patrse, where he died. Cicero defended him on his trial, and addressed to him some letters which may be found in the thirteenth book of his Epistles to his friends.^

The general voice of criticism has awarded to Lucretius high praise as a poet. The earliest notice which we find of bis works, is that of Cicero in a letter to his brother Quintus,^ in which he says, as the passage stands in Ernesti, Lucretii poematay tU scribis, ita sunt; non multis luminibtis ingenii, multee tamen artis, ** The poetry of Lucretius is such as you say ; having not much splendour of genius, but a great deal of art" Wakefield would omit the non, but is opposed by Eichstadt and Schutz, and by general opinion.^ Cicero, how- ever, if we read his words rightly, seems hardly to do justice to the poet,* or to hit the general character of his work. To us, of the present day, he appears to be chiefly distinguished by a rough vigour, and to have been anxious rather to express his thoughts strongly, than to clothe them in elegance or niceties of language. Not that he disdained poetical beauties, for Virgil and others have found in him many worthy of adop- tion ; but vigour and animation seemed to have been his chief aim. Statins did him more justice, when he spoke of the docH furor arduus Lucreii^ " the lofty rage of the learned Lucretius."* Ovid thoroughly understood his merit, and pre- dicted that his poem was destined to be immortal :

Carmina sublimis tunc sunt peritura Lucreti, Exitio terras ciim dabit una dies/

' See Lambinus in Prolegom. ' Ad Quint. Frat. ii. 11.

' Tanaquil Faber proposed to read, omitting the nxm, " lita sunt multis luminibus," ^r^., which Ernesti, as Eichstadt remarks, justly condemns. Who indeed could endure the expression luminibus Unere f

* See Warton's Essay on Pope, vol. ii. p. 328. » Stat. Sylv. ii. 7, 76.

• This expression Gray seems to have had in his thoughts, when he wrote,

Chill penury repressed their noble rage.

' Amor. i. 15, 28.

b

X BEMABKS ON THE

Cornelius Nepos * ranks him in elegance with Catullus ; for speaking of a certain Julius Calidus, who was rescued from proscription by Pomponius Atticus, he calls him " the most elegant poet since the death of Catullus and Lucretius.^ Quintilian ^ gives him similar praise, saying that he is degans in sua materid, elegant in his peculiar department, though he thinks him '' difficult " for the student. Aulus Gellius ^ calls him a poet " excelling ingenio etfacundidf in genius and force of language;" Serenus Sammonicus^ styles him "the great Lucretius;" and Velleius Paterculus, ^ Vitruvius,® Seneca,*^ Macrobius,® and Pliny the younger,® notice him as ranked among the most eminent poets, though without bestowing on him any specific commendation. He is recognised in a simi- lar way by Propertius ^® and Tacitus. ^^

There was therefore little cause for Dunlop to complain of " the slight mention that is made of Lucretius by succeeding Latin authors," and of " the coldness with which he is spoken of by all Roman critics and poets, with the exception of Ovid." Horace, indeed, who makes abundant mention of Ennius and Lucilius, has, it must be acknowledged, not named Lucretius. Dunlop, to account for this silence of Horace, and the sup- posed intended silence of others, suggests that " the spirit of free-thinking which pervaded his writings, may have rendered it unsuitable or unsafe to extol his poetical talents. There was a time," he adds, " when, in this country, it was thought scarcely decorous or becoming to express high admiration of the genius of Rousseau and Voltaire." With reference to Horace, and his times, there may have been some ground for this supposition. Cicero, in his De Andcitid^^^ introduces Las- lius sa3ring that " he does not agree with those who have lately begun to assert that souls perish together with their bodies, and that death makes an end 'of all." " I rather sub- mit myself," he continues, " to the authority of the ancients, or of our own forefathers, who appointed religious rites for the dead ; rites which they would not have instituted, had they thought that the dead could not be affected by them, ♦ * * or to the authority of him who was pronounced by the oracle

» Vit. Att. xii. 4. « Instit. Or. x. 1. » Noct Att. i. 21.

♦ De Medic, ver. 614. * Hist. Rom. ii. 36. • Lib. ix. 3. ' De Tranq. An. sect. 2: Ep. xcv. ex. • Sat. vi. 2.

» Ep. iv. 18. " Eleg. ii. 25, 29. " Dial, de Or. 23. " Cap. 3.

LIFE AND POEM OP LUCRETIUS. XI

of Apollo the wisest of men ; and who did not on this, as on most subjects, assert sometimes one thing and sometimes an- other, but maintained invariably the same opinion, that the souls of men are divine, and that, when they are released from the body, a return to heaven is open to them, and first of all to the best and most worthy. But," he concludes, as if un- willing to side too closely with either party, "should the opinion of those be true, who think that the soul and the body perish together, and that all sense is terminated by their separation, death will then be attended with neither good nor evil."

The modems have certainly not been less willing to praise Lucretius than the ancients. Barthius ^ and Tumebus ^ com- mend the attractive simplicity of his antique Latinity ; Cri- nitus and Casaubon ^ speak of his style in a similar manner ; and Julius Scaliger^ calls him " a divine man, and incompar- able poet." The eulogies bestowed upon him by Lambinus, Faber, and his other commentators, I omit, as they might be regarded as the offspring of partiality.

Our own countrymen have not been behind others in offer- ing their tribute of admiration, as exhibited in editions, trans- lations, remarks, and quotations. Dr. Warton, in his Essay on Pope,* calls the Nature of Things "the noblest descriptive poem extant," and has most happily illustrated the poet's vigour of conception and execution : " The Persians," says he, " distinguish the different degrees of the strength of fancy in different poets, by calling them painters or sculptors. .Lu- cretius, from the force of his images, should be ranked among the latter. He is, in truth, a sculptor-poet. His images have a bold relief." " If Lucretius had not been spoiled by the Epicurean system," says Lord Byron,® "we should have had a far superior poem to any now in existence. As mere poetry, it is the first of Latin poems." But the most discriminating and ample praise, that has been given him by any English author, is that of Dryden :'^

" If I am not mistaken," says he, " the distinguishing cha-

* Advers. zxiii. 1. * Advers. xviii. 6.

' Not. in Johan. c. 5, cited in the Life prefixed to Creech's version.

* In Aristot. Hist. Anim. x. 53.

* Vol. i. p. 50f and vol. ii. p. 105, note. • Letter on Bowles. ^ Preface to ms second Miscellany of Translations.

b i

XU REMARKS ON THE

racter of Lucretius, I mean of bis soul and genius, is a certain kind of noble pride, and positive assertion of bis own opinions. He is every where confident of bis own reason, and assuming an absolute command, not only over bis vulgar readers, but even bis patron Memmius ; for be is always bidding bim at- tend, as if be bad tbe rod over bim, and using a magisterial authority, wbile be instructs bim. * * * He seems to disdain all manner of replies, and is so confident of bis cause, tbat be is beforehand with bis antagonists ; urging for them whatever be imagined they could say, and leaving them, as be supposes, without an objection for the future. All this too with so much scorn and indignation, as if be were assured of tbe tri- umph before be entered into tbe lists.

^^ From this sublime and daring genius of bis, it must of necessity come to pass, tbat bis thoughts must be masculine, full of argumentation, and tbat sufficiently warm. From the same fiery temper proceeds tbe loftiness of his expressions, and the perpetual torrent of his verse, when tbe barrenness of bis subject does not too much restrain the quickness of his fancy. For there is no doubt to be made, but that be could have been every where as poetical as be is in bis descriptions, and in tbe moral part of bis philosophy, if be bad not aimed more to instruct in bis system of nature, than to delight."

With regard to the subject of bis poem, Lucretius is to be contemplated as a ncUural and moral philosopher.

The physical part of his philosophy, and most, indeed, of tbe moral part, be took from Epicurus, who, as Cicero ^ observes, had previously adopted bis physics from Democritus. Of this, the great principle is, that nothing can proceed from njothing^ and that, consequently, this world, in which we live, and every other object in tbe universe, was formed from matter that previously existed. How this matter came to exist, we need not inquire ; we are to suppose that it existed always. In its original state it was an infinitude of detached atoms, moving or falling through unlimited space ; for tbat space is unlimited is by Lucretius elaborately proved.^

These atoms are infrangible and indestructible ; for matter is not infinitely divisible ; there must be a point at which di-

» De Fin. i. 6. « I. 166, '644. » I. 967-

LIFE AND POEM OP LUOKETIUS. xiii

Tision ends. They are hard and solid, or they would be un- able to endure agitation and attrition throughout an infinity of ages J They are of different shapes, suited for the forma- tion of various substances by combination.^ The number of their forms, however, is limited ; but the number of each form is infinite.^

The atoms were moving ; but whence had they the begin- ning of motion? From their own gravity; for all bodies move downwards by their own weight.* This is the com- mencement of absurdity in the system ; for, if space be infi- nite, one direction in it cannot be called downwards more than another ; as Lucretius himself indeed acknowledges, observing that nil est fundUus imum;^ nor can any reason be assigned why an atom should move from one part of infinite space to another.

This commencement of motion, however, being assumed, it is next to be shown how atoms combined. Had they all moved, as might have been supposed, in straight lines, as they fell or proceeded through space, there could have been no coalition among them, unless the heavier had overtaken the lighter. But Lucretius, or Epicurus, had sufficient conception of the motion of bodies in empty space, to understand that light bodies must move through it as speedily as heavy ones, and that, consequently, one atom could not overtake another.® It was necessary, therefore, to make some of them deviate from the straight or perpen<Scular line, and it is accordingly as- sumed that some do deviate from it. " This supposition," says Cicero,^ " is mere puerility ; for he introduces the devia- tion arbitrarily; he makes some atoms decline from the straight course without cause ; and to say that any thing takes place without a cause is to a natural philosopher the most disgrace- ful of all things. To assert, too, that some decline, and some go straight onwards, is, as it were, to give properties and duties to atoms despotically, determining which is to go in a right line, and which obliquely."

But when, from partial deviations, some had come in con- tact with others, they began to form combinations. They strove, as it were, for a long time ineffectually,^ but at length

» I. 484—635. « II. 94r-I07. » II. 426—580.

♦ II. 79—87. * I. 992. • II. 225, seg. ' De Fin. i. 6.

« I. 1023, seg,; V. 188—195.

XIV REMARKS ON THE

the larger and heavier atoms coalesced into the denser sub- stances, as earth and water ; the smaller and lighter, into more subtle matters, as air and fire. From combinations of such substances arose plants and animals ; as trees and worms still spring from the earth when it is moistened and warmed. Of the rise of animals in general, and of man especially, the reader will find an ample account, according to the notions of Epi- curus, in the fifth book.^

Nature does not abhor a vacuum. On the contrary, it is necessary that there should be, throughout the whole of mat- ter, certain portions of empty space, or the movement of par- ticles would be utterly impeded. Water, for instance, could not be a liquid, unless there were vacuities among its atoms to allow them to yield to pressure.^

Man consists of a body and a soul. The body is constituted of coarser, and the soul of finer matter. Both are produced together, and grow up and decay together ; at death, the con- nexion between them is dissolved ; the soul takes its departure, to be decomposed, and mingled with other matter ; and the body begins to decay, that it may undergo a similar fate.

The mind is intimately connected with the soul ; so inti- mately that they must be said to form one substance. Both are composed of heat, vapour, air, and a certain fourth sub- stance, which has no name, but which is the most important of the four, as being the origin of motion in the whole man. That both are wholly corporeal is indisputable, from their power to act on the body :

Tangere enim et tangi, nisi corpus, nulla potest res.'

Ideas of objects in the mind are produced by the mysteri- ous action of images of things on the soul and intellect ; images of a light vapoury substance, which are perpetually passing off from the surface of all bodies whatsoever, and exhibiting the exact resemblance of the objects from which they are de- tached. Other images, too, are formed spontaneously in the atmosphere, as we see clouds, at times, form themselves into likenesses of things on the face of the sky. Of images, ac- cordingly, the number is infinite, so that, whenever a man wishes to think on any thing, the image of it is generally ready

> Ver. 780, seq. * I. 847—383, et seq,

' On the Soul, see book iii. passim.

LIFE AND POEM OP LUCRETIUS. XV

to present itself for his contemplation. If he cannot recollect what he wishes to think on, he may consider that an image of It is not at hand. Dreams are excited hy images, which, as they pass through the air, penetrating the coverings of the body, come in contact with such atoms of the soul as are at the surface of the body, and thus communicate their impres- sions to the whole of the soul and mind.

Vision is produced by the same images flyiug off from the surface of the objects at which we look, and striking on the eye. Reflection from mirrors, and other smooth surfaces, is produced by the image first striking the reflecting plane, and then being reverberated to the eye. Voice, like all sounds, is a corporeal substance, because it frequently, as it passes forth, causes abrasion of the throat, and because much speaking ex- hausts the corporeal frame by detraction of atoms. ^

The members and organs of the body were not formed with a design that they might be used ; for there could have been no design in the offspring of fortuitously meeting atoms ; but, as they have been formed, and we find them capable of being used, we apply them, accordingly, to the uses for which they seem adapted. The feet were not formed for walking, but, as we find they enable us to walk, we employ them in walking.^

Of all our knowledge the foundation must rest on the per- ceptions of our senses. To our senses we can assuredly trust, for what shall refute them? Will any thing distinct from them refute them, or will they refute one another? That which shall convict them of falsehood must be more trust- worthy than they ; but what can be more trust- worthy ? What shall convince us that those bodies which appear to the senses square, or hot, or black, are not possessed of those qualities?^

The motions and combinations of atoms being established, all natural phaenomena, as thunder, lightning, rain, earth- quakes, are easily shown to arise from their changes of place and effects on one another.^

Even were it not demonstrable that the world was for- tuitously formed by the coalescence of atoms, it might yet be safely afilrmed, from the numerous faults apparent in it, and from the various causes of suffering to animal life which it

* Of images, &c. see book iv. passim. * IV. 825.

» IV. 380—523. * See book v.

XVI fiEMABKS OX THE

contains, that it was not made by divine wisdom as an abode for living creatures.^ It sprung into being casually; and animals, that casually sprung from it, make the best of that abode to which they are confined, and from which there is no release but death.

This world, which we inhabit, is not the only one in the universe.^ The number of atoms being infinite, it is naturally to be supposed that they must have produced more worlds than one. It is therefore probable that there are many worlds of many kinds. And as these worlds have been gener- ated, we may fairly argue that they also decay. Men, other animals, and the trees of the forest, are born but to die ; and why should not a world be subject to the same fate as the things which grow in it ? We see, indeed, the symptoms of decadence in the world which we inhabit ; for the present pro- ductions of the earth are not of the same vigour as those of its earlier days. All, then, around us, we may conclude is making progress towards dissolution ; the great globe will continue to sink and grow infirm, until at last, mouldering and disruptured, it scatters its atoms through surrounding space, to Contribute to the formation of other worlds like or unlike

itself.

Star after star from heaven's bright arch shall rush, Suns sink on suns, and systems systems crush ; Headlong, extinct, to one dark centre fall, And Death, and Night, and Chaos, mingle all. Till, o'er the wreck, emerging from the storm, Immortal Nature lifts her changeful form, Mounts from her funeral pyre on wings of flame. And soars and shines another and the same. Darwin.

Such were the general tenets of Lucretius as a natural philosopher ; tenets on which the reader will find him amply enlarging in the following pages.

His doctrines as a moral philosopher may be noticed with greater brevity.

His great boast as a n^oralist was, that he freed men from the terrors of death, and of sufiering after death. The soul, says he, when it is separated from the body, is dispersed among the matter from which it was collected, and the man ceases to be. His atoms continue to exist, for they are indestructible, but his own existence, as an individual being, is no more. He

» V. 196, 86^. « II. 1075.

LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. XVli

is separated into his parts, and his consciousness that he ever existed as a whole is at an end. Of what has been, he will have no recollection; of what shall be, he will have no knowledge. Why then should he dread to die, when after death no suffering can ensue? He that is about to die young, may felicitate himself that he shall escape that trouble and affliction of which some falls to the lot of every man ; he that die9 at an advanced age, may be satisfied that he has had 80 long opportunity for those enjoyments of which no man fails to obtain some. After a certain period life offers nothing new, and why should we seek to prolong it ? ^

The greatest enjoyment of life consists in tranquil plea- sure. To labour for honour and dignities, which are unsatis- factory when attained, is mere folly. Nature has supplied every thing necessary to satisfy our wants, and to enable us to spend our existence in ease, contentment, and pleasure ; if we only study the best method of making the most of what is set before us. A wise man can live on a little ; and to live contentedly on a little is to be equal in enjoyment to him who has more than ourselves, and who, however much he may have, can have no solid satisfaction unless he is contented with that which he possesses.^ The highest degree of wisdom that we can attain, is to be able to look down from the serene elevations of philosophy, on the unreasoning crowds wander- ing beneath us, seeking for the path of happiness, and vainly hoping to find it in the pursuit of the splendours and distinc- tions of the world.^

Whether he really believed in the existence of gods, that is, of beings of a similar but superior nature to ourselves, it is not easy, from the perusal of his. works, to decide. He at times speaks of gods, like Epicurus, as certainly existing,^ and enjoying a state of tranquil felicity, unconcerned about the affairs of the world, and unaffected by human good or human eviL^ At other times, he seems to consider them as mere creatures of the imagination, to which men have attributed, in the operations of nature, those effects of which they cannot discover the causes.^

> Book iii., sub^n. ' » jj. 20— 60. » II. 1—13.

* VI. 76u In ii. 599f he notices that the earth is called magna deStm Mater t Materpteferamm, as if gods and beasts had alike sprung from her. * II. 644—651. • V. 1168, seq.

XYUl REMARKS ON THE

The first edition of Lucretius was printed at Brescia, by Fer- andus, without date, but, as Wakefield and others think, about the year 1470. It is of all ediHones principes the most rare.

The second edition appeared at Verona, printed by Freiden- perger, in 1486, and the third at Venice, by T. de Ragazoni- bus, in 1495. From Venice, too, in 1500, came forth the first edition of Aldus ; and fifteen years afterwards the second, superintended by Naugerius, who did more to make- his author intelligible than had been done in the former edition. In the mean time, however, (1511,) had appeared at Bononia the edition of Baptista Pius, who brought much learning and ability to bear upon his author, and many of whose notes are still worthy of preservation.

The second edition of Aldus is said by Lachmann ^ to have been greatly improved from the revised text of Michael Ma- rullus, which was published from his manuscripts after his death, by Petrus Candidus, whose name the edition bears, at Florence, in 1512; of which text succeeding editors have overlooked the merits, or have been unwilling to do justice to them.

But all other editions were thrown into the shade by those of Lambinus, of which the first appeared in 1563, the second in 1565, and the third in 1570, Of all editors and expound- ers of Lucretius, Lambinus still deserves to stand at the head. He is accused by Wakefield of tnconsulta temeritas, injudici- ous rashness, in intruding his own conjectures into the text ; and by Eichstadt, of having had too high an opinion of his own judgment and ability ; but though there be some grounds for such accusations, his character as an editor is still of the highest order. He brought to his work a powerful mind, and, knowing that Lucretius always intended to write sense, he took upon himself to put sense, perhaps at times too arbi- trarily, into verses which had been left meaningless by tran- scribers. And it is surely no dishonour to him to have shown his contempt for such a man as Gifanius, who, in 1565, printed an edition at Antwerp, and whose annotations have little other claim to notice than that of attacking Lambinus with the meanness with which a low mind always attacks a higher.

' Prolegom. in Notas, p. 11.

LIFE AND POEM OF LUCBETIUS. xix

There were some other editions, but of not much account, between Gifanius's and that of Tanaquil Faber, which was published in 1662, containing notes, brief indeed, but evincing the great learning and acuteness of the editor.

To Faber, in 1695, succeeded Creech. • His text is Lambi- nus's with scarcely any variation, and though he never fails to expose a mistakeof Lambinus when he finds one in his comment- ary, he is very ready to profit by all Lambinus's instructions. I£s interpretation after the manner of the Delphin editions, is of little use, for, wherever there is any difficulty of construction, he invariably abbreviates. Yet, if we may credit the last editor, Lachmann, *' multa rectiills interpretatus est qu^m scripsit, in philosophia explicandd sane diligens, sed linguae Latinse imperitissimus." This is too strong; but there are in his notes inelegances and inaccuracies.

In 1725 appeared the splendid edition of Havercamp, which is extremely useful, as containing all the notes of Lambinus, Gifanius, Creech, and Faber, with a selection from those of Pius, and with a few, of considerable value, from Abrahamus Prdgerus, a friend of Havercamp. Of Havercamp's own there is comparatively little.

At length, in 1796, came out, with a dedication to Fox, the well-known edition of Wakefield. Wakefield had discovered, by the inspection of a manuscript or two, that Lambinus had taken, as he thought, unjustifiable liberties with the text of Lucretius, and conceived that he should be enabled to re- store it to something like its original integrity. Had he been content to reinstate only those words or phrases which Lambinus or others had unreasonably ejected, he might have done greater service, but he replaced also such readings as any editor would have been blamed for sufiering to remain. I will give one instance. In Lambinus and Creech the 863rd Terse of the third book stands thus :

Intemipta semel quum sit repetentia nostra ;

" repetentia nostra," our memory or recollection. This is in- telligible ; but Wakefield finding in manuscripts nostris, re- placed it as a crux to his reader, who, as soon as he comes to it, is stuck fast. What, he inquires, is to be understood with nastrisf It is in vain to seek for any thing in what precedes, and he must consult Wakefield's notes to find that, according

XX REMARKS ON THE

to Wakefield's notion, rebus must be supplied. How much the difficulties in an author may be increased by such changes, is easily conceivable ; but he who has only read Lambinus or Creech's edition of Lucretius, can have no conception how much the difficulties in Lucretius have been increased by Wakefield's arbitrary alterations. Whether Wakefield ever "construed through a brick wall," I do not know ; but that he has raised abundance of brick walls through which others are left to construe, is manifest. There is in his notes, besides other unnecessary matter, a vast quantity of super- fluous railing at the inscUia and inverecundia of Lambinus, and the inscitia and stupor of Creech, of which the reader may see an average specimen on vi. 582, and in various other places. A man worthy to edit Lucretius should have for- borne to apply the term inscitia to such a predecessor as Lambinus.

In 1801, Wakefield's text was reprinted at Leipsic by Eichstadt, who had previously obtained repute by his edition of Diodorus Siculus. The first volume, containing the text of the six books, judicious prolegomena, and an excellent in- dex, is the only one that has appeared.

In 1828 came forth the edition of Forbiger, which, chiefly perhaps from the convenience of its size, has been much used. His text is Wakefield's, with but very few alterations, and all his*^xplanations of passages are Wakefielcfs. His work, says Lachmann, was mercenary ; and it would be doing him great injustice to suppose him capable of seeing any thing by the light of his own intellect.

In 1850, at Berlin, appeared Lachmann's edition, in two thin volumes octavo. He is a little too fond of transposing verses, and . discovering deficiencies in the text, but deserves great commendation for restoring many readings that Wake- field had ejected. His notes are not at all explanatory, but are wholly occupied about changes in the text.

With regard to versions of Lucretius, the earliest attempt to render him into English was made by John Evelyn, the author of " Sylva," who, in 1656, published the first book in verse, with a commentary. His lady designed the frontispiece,

LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. XXI

and Waller prefixed a copy of verses. The translation is foithful, bat tame.

In 1682 was published the translation by Creech, which, as the first complete version of the poet, was cordially welcomed. Evelyn furnished some laudatory couplets, sajring how much he was pleased that the entire work had fallen to more vigor- ons hands than his own. Duke, Tate, and Otway gave also their tribute of verse, and Creech was every where known as the English Lucretius. But posterity have had time to dis.- covei the faults in his performance. Many of his lines are vigorous, but many are stifi* and awkward ; and the licences which he has taken with the original are ahnost beyond be- lief. Whoever will look at the commencement of his first book, will find that between the tenth and sixteenth verses he inserts five lines of his own. Similar interpolations may be found in other places ; and he likewise curtails with equal freedom whenever it suits his purpose.

About the same time Dryden produced some translations, or rather paraphrases, of particular passages, executed with his usual vigour.

In 1743 there appeared, in two volumes' octavo, a prose translation, which G-ood calls Guernier's, but which was the work of an unknown hand. Guemier, with others, furnished the plates. The version is but indifierent. Some parts of it, though printed as prose, run into blank verse.

In 1799 the first book was translated in rhyme by an anonymous author ; and in 1 808, also in rhyme, by the Rev. W. Hamilton Drummond. Both versions have merit, but the greater share of praise belongs to Mr. Drummond.

In 1805 Dr. Good laid before the public his two quarto volumes, containing a version of the whole poem in blank verse, with copious notes. This translation is in general pleasing and animated, but some parts are rather stifi*. Taken as a whole it is by far the best extant, and is deemed, by my publisher, a desirable addition to the present volume.

In 1813 was published by subscription, in two pompous volumes quarto, the rhymed version of Thomas Busby, Mus. D. He is, to do him justice, tolerably faithful to the sense, but his couplets are far inferior to those of Mr. Drummond's First Book. His notes are heavy and tedious ; and all his learning second-hand. The whole book reminds the reader of the com-

XXU BEMABKS ON THE

meocement of his well-known prologue, which Lord Byron, says Moore, unnecessarily travestied :

When energizing ohjects men pursue. What are the prodigies they cannot do !

In French, Lucretius has been translated several times. The earliest version is that of the Abbe de MaroUes, in prose, published in 1650, which has not obtained more esteem than his other translations of classical authors. In 1685 another prose translation was published by the Baron de Coutures, which is paraphrastic, but seems tolerably faithful to the sense. In 1768 La Grange published a third, which gives the thoughts of the poet with exactness, but wants vigour and animation ; and in 1794 Le Blanc de Guillet brought out a fourth, in verse, which I have not minutely examined, but on which his coun- trjnoaen set no very high value. The last, in 1825, was that of Pongerville, in prose, rather a paraphrase than a transla- tion, and preserving nothing of the sententiousness of Lu- cretius.

The Italian version of Marchetti, in blank verse, published in London 1717, and since several times reprinted, has always been highly esteemed.

The Germans have three translations; one by Mayr, 1784, in prose, which Degen, cited by Moss, calls " pretty accurate ;" another by Meineke, 1795, in hexameter verse, which is ge- nerally considered faithful to the sense ; and the last by Kne- bel, 1821, which is also in hexameter verse, and which is the most highly valued of the three.

The Dutch have a prose translation by De Wit, printed in 1701, which Good says that he had seen, "but without being induced to imitate it."

I beg leave to observe, that, in the notes attached to the following translation, I have not taken upon me to refute any of the doctrines of Lucretius or Epicurus. To have offered formal refutations of them would have occupied more space than could be afforded in the present volume; and many of them, in these days, require no refutation. I have there- fore restricted myself to discharging that which Dryden ad- monishes me to be the duty of a translator, — to do my author all the right I can, and to translate him to the best advantage.

• • •

LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. XXlll

Those who seek for arguments against his tenets, physical or moral, may find them in Lactantius ; in Arnobius ; in the Anti-Lucretius of Cardinal Polignac ; in the Bridgewater Treatises ; and in abundance of other English books.

The famous refutation by Cardinal Polignac, called Anti- LucretmSy I might have quoted in every page ; and the reader will perhaps wonder that I have not done so. But I for- bore to quote him, as I forbore to quote others. He assailed Lucretius with great determination ; his versification, though deficient in Lucretian ardour, is always respectable, and some- times elevated ; and he would perhaps be more read, had he not unluckily^ as Voltaire observes, tjohen he attacked Lucre- tius attacked Newton,

LUCRETIUS.

BOOK I.

ARGUMENT.

Lucretius invokes Venus as the great cause of production, ver^ 1—44. He then dedicates his work to Memmius ; praises Bpicurus, whose doctrine he follows ; vindicates his subject from the charge of impiety ; exposes the emptiness of the religious system of his day, and the fictions of the poets ; and introduces/ not without allusion to the difficulties to be over- come, the great arguments of which he proposes to treat, ver. 45 — 159. Entering upon his subject, he shows, firsts that nothing can proceed from nothing f and that nothing can return to nothing y ver. 160 — 265. Secondly ^ that there are certain minute corpuscles, which, though imperceptible to our senses, are conceivable in our minds, and from which all things origin- ate, ver. 266 — 329. Thirdly y that there is va^mum or empty space, ver. 330—430. Fourthly, that there is nothing in the universe but body and space, and that all other things which are said to be, are only adjuncts or events, properties or accidents of body and space, ver. 431--483. He then proceeds to demonstrate that the primary corpuscles, or elements of things, are perfectly solid, indivisible, and eternal, ver. 484 — 635. He re- futes those who had held other opinions, as Heraclitus, who said that fire was the origin of things ; and others, who had maintained the same of air, water^ and earth, ver. 636 — 712. He attacks Empedodes, who said that the imiverse was compounded of the four elements, and Anaxagoras, who advocated the homoeomeria, ver. 713 — 919. He then contends that the imiverse is boundless, that atoms are infinite in niunber, and that space must be unlimited, ver. 920 — 1050. Lastly, he refutes those who think that there is a centre of things, to which heavy bodies tend downwards, and light bodies upwards ; and concludes with a praise of philosophy, which assists mankind to penetrate the mysteries of nature.

B

2 LUCRETIUS. b. i. 1—4.

O BOUNTIFUL Venus, ^ mother of the race of -/Eneas,^ delight of gods and men, who, beneath the gliding constellations' of heaven,^ fiUest with life* the ship-bearing sea and the fruit-producing earth ;» since by thy influence every kind of

* O bountiful Venus.] Ver. 2. Alma Venus. The word means kindy bountiful, benignant, nourUhingy from alo, to nourish. " It is said of the gods," says Forcellini, '' particularly such as are thought to give life or food to men." Thus we have alma Ceres, Virg. Geo. i. 7f alnie Sol, Hor. Carm. Saec. 9, besides alma Tellus, and many other similar applications of the epithet. Horace has also alma Venus, Od. iv. 15, 31. And Ausonius has the same expression in many places, besides this inscription for a statue of Venus, which he has borrowed from Lucretius :

Orta salo, suscepta solo, patre edita coelo, ^neadum genetrix, hie habito alma Venus.

"Others," says Creech, "interpret lata, fanMnda^ grata; I prefer he^iigna, a word which expresses all the other virtues of Venus, to which Lucretius has regard not less than to her fecundity."

^ Mother of the race of -ffineas.] Ver. 1. ^neadum genetrix. He thus names the Romans, as being descended from ^neas. Virgil and Ovid give them the same appellation. .

' Gliding constellations of heaven.] Ver. 2. Ca}li lahetitia signa. The same as signa labentia ccelo, or in coelo ; the form of expression which Virgil uses, Mn- iii. 515, Sidera cuncta notat tacito labentia coelo.

* Fillest with life.] Ver. 4. Concelebras, The only question as to the translation of this word is, whether it is to be rendered visitest fre- quently, or renderest populous, that is, fillest with animal life. The latter signification is, in my opinion, infinitely better adapted to what fol- lows, than the former ; and I have the best of the commentators.'on my side. Thus Pius : Auges tuo dulci initu, ut ita mvltiplicata celehria sint et populosa, Lambinus : Celebres [terras'] reddis, Creech : Reples etexomas. These commentators notice, indeed, the other acceptation, but give the preference to this. Wakefield interprets " frequentas — permeas — incolis — agitas," all which he gets from Nonius Marcel- lus, who has " commoves." The word occurs twice in other places of Lucretius, but not in any sense that illustrates this passage. It is to be observed that the preposition eon^ with, is not to be considered useless ; looking to the subject of the poem, we may regard it as signifying that Venus (herself material) co-operates with matter in general to render the earth and sea fruitful.

* The ship-bearing sea and the fruit-producing earth.] Ver. 3. QiuB mare navigerum, quae terras frugiferentes Concelebras, The words are rendered literally, except that for the relative pronoun is substi- tuted the copulative conjunction. Evelyn gives it with equal exact- ness :

Comfort bring and mirth

To the ship-bearing seas, corn-bearing earth.

FrugeSj however, means fruits of the earth in general.

B. I. 6-25. LUCRETIUS. 3

living creature is conceived, and, springing forth, hails the light of the sun.i Thee, O goddess, thee the winds flee ; be- fore thee, and thy approabh, the clouds of heaven disperse; for thee the variegated earth ^ puts forth ^ her fragrant flowers; on thee the waters of ocean smile, and the calmed heaven beams with effulgent* light. For, as soon as the vernal face of day® is unveiled, and the genial gale of Favonius exerts its power unconfined, the birds of the air first, O goddess, testify of thee and thy coming, smitten in heart by thy influ- ence. Next, the wild herds bound over the joyous pastures, and swim across the rapid streams. So all kinds of living creatures, captivated by thy charms and thy allurements, eagerly follow thee whithersoever thou proceedest to lead thenu In fine, throughout seas, and mountains, and whelming rivers,^ and the leafy abodes of birds, and verdant plains, thou, infusing balmy love into the breasts of all, causest them eagerly to propagate their races after their kind.

Since thou alone dost govern '^ all things in nature, neither does any thing without thee spring into the ethereal realms of light, nor any thing become gladsome or lovely ; I desire thee to be my associate^ in this my song, which I am essaying

* Hails the light of the sun.] Ver. 5. Visitque — lumina aolis. " Ex- oritur, prodit in lucem, hac lucis usurll frui incipit.|' Lambintu,^

' Variegated earth.] Ver. 7. Daidala tellus. This is the exact sig- nification of the word. " Why the earth is called Dcedala hy Lu- cretius, as well as Minerva hy Ennius, and Circe hy Virgil, from variety of objects and contrivances^ it is easy to understand, since daiSa^XitVy in Greek, signifies to vary,** Festus,

» Puts forth.] Ver. 7. SubmitHt. " Suhmittere" is "de sub mit- tere," says Faher, and so says Creech, whom Wakefield follows; interpretmg " sends from her lap, causes to spring de sub solo, from underneath the ground."

* Efiulgent.] Ver. 9. J>ifftLso, We have the same phrase, iii. 22, MOier Integer et largi diffuso lumine ridet,

* Vernal face of day j Ver. 10. Species — vema diei. The same as the face of vernal day ; i. e. when the spring has arrived. Species for vultus, or aspect, Comp. iv. 243.

* Whelming rivers.] Ver. 18. Fluviosque rapaces. Able to carry away rocks, trees, and other substances; of resistless strength. Virgil borrows the expression, Geo. iii, 142, " Fluviosque innare rapaces."

^ Since thou alone dost govern.] Ver. 22. Qtue guoniam — sola gnbemas. Literally, who, since thou alone governest. To avoid stiffness, I have often rendered the relative pronoim in this way.

* I desire thee to be my associate.] Ver. 25. Te sociam siudeo esse.

B 2

Jf

J

f

4 LUCRETIUS. b. i. 26—38.

to compose on the natore of things,^ for the instruction of my friend Memmius,^ whom thou, O goddess, hast willed at all times to excel, graced with every gift. The more therefore do thou, O goddess, bestow on my words an immortal charm. Cause the fierce pursuits of war meanwhile to cease, being lulled to rest throughout all seas and lands. For thou alone canst bless mortals with tranquil peace ; since Mars, the lord of arms, who controls the cruel tasks of war, often flings » himself upon thy lap, vanquished by the eternal wound of love;* and thus looking up, his graceful neok^ thrown back, he feasts his eager eyes with love, gazing intently on thee, O goddess, and his breath, as he reclines, hangs on thy

It may seem absurd that divine assistance should be invoked by an Epicurean, who thinks that the ^ods take no interest in human af- fairs; but it is to be considerea that Lucretius here writes in the character of a poet, not of a philosopher. Fc^er,

/ Nature OF THINGS.] Ver. 26. Rerumfusturd, By this expression liucretius intends not merely the objects of what we call the ma- terial universe, but all that concerns man and the world in which he dwells. His full meaning is shown in iii. 1085, where, speaking of the anxieties of mankind, and their ignorance of the cause of them, he says, that if this cause were at all surmised, each, in preference to all other pursuits, would study naturam cognoscere rerum ; that he might by that means understand how little is to be feared after death, and might become one who, as Virgil expresses it,

^^metus omnes et inexorabile fatum

Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acheron tis avari.

^ Memmius.] Ver. 27. Memmiadcs noatro. Properly the son of Memmius ; or one of the MemmiadtB, or family of Memmius. Lam- binus thinks him the C. Memmius Gemellus, to whom Cicero ad- dresses some letters in the thirteenth book of his Epist. ad Fam. See the Life of Lucretius prefixed to this translation.

* Since Mars — who controls — often flings, ^c] Ver. 33. Quo- niam belli fera mcenera Mavora Armipotens regit, in gremium qui aofpe tuum se, Sfc. The order of the words in the translation is, for the sake of ease, varied a little from the original, which, if exactly given, would stand thus : Since Mars — controls the cruel tasks of war, who often Mngs himself, isc*

* Eternal wound of love.] Ver. 35. ^temo vttlnere amoris. Virgil borrows this expression : Cum Juno, aeternum servans sub pectore vulnus, ^n. i. 36. And Pope has taken it for his Messiah : *' And hell's grim tyrant feel th* eternal wound.'*

* Graceful neck.] Ver. 37. Tereti cervice, I can find no better single epithet than this. « Among the Latins the word teres included the ideas of length, roundness, and smoothness, Hor. Od. ii. 4, 21. Brachia et vultum teretesque suras Integer laudo.

t •

B. I. 39-n53. LUCRETIUS. o

lips. Bending over him, 0 goddess, as he reposes, to embrace him * with thy sacred person, pour from thy lips sweet con- verse, entreating unruffled peace, illustrious divinity ^ for thy Romans. For neither can we pursue our task^ with tranquil mind, in this untranquil time^ of our country ; nor can the illustrious scion of Memmius, at such a crisis, desert the com*

mon interesVfi

For what^^^Bmains,* lend me, 0 Memmius, thy unprejudiced ears,* and apply thyself, released from cares, to the investiga- tion of truth, and leave not, as things despised, my offerings arranged for thee with faithful zeal, before they are under- stood. For I shall proceed to discourse to thee of the whole system® of heaven and the gods, and unfold to thee the first principles of all things,' from which nature produces, developes, and sustains all, and into which she again resolves them at their dissolution:^ these, in explaining our subject, we are accustomed to call matter, and the generative bodiea of things,

* Bending over him — as he reposes, to embrace Inm.] Ver. 39. Hune recubantem — circumfusa super. Literally, pourettround above him reclining. To make readable English, I was 6bl%ed to amplify a little. /

' Pursue our task.] Ver. 42. Agere hoc, "-Hoc ipsum quod sus- cepimus, attent^ et sumrn^ cur^ agere." Lafkbinus, So also Faber. Comp. iv. 970. ^ /

• Tranquil mind, in this untranquil time* J Ver. 42. Tempore inigtio — aguo animo. I have endeavoured to prc^Aerve a resemblance to the original.

* For what remains.] Ver. 45. Quod mperest, " He calls for his friend's attention. By quod euperest, it is to be observed^, he means quod reliquum est. He often uses the same expression. Thus lib. ii. 39, Quod superestf animo quoque nil prodesse putandum. And vi. 998,^ Quod superestf facilb hinc ratio reddetur, S^c.** Lamhinus, Lu- cretius sometimes, however, uses quod superestm the sense of praterea or deniqt*e, «

* Unprejudiced ears.] Ver. 45. Vacttas aures. Free alike from business and from prejudice.

• The whole system J Ver. 49. Summdratione. "jTotft natur^. ' ' Creech.

' First principles of all things.] Ver. 50. Rerum primordia, "Re- rum principia." Lambinus, Lucretius uses primordia and principia indinerently, {Forb, ad iii. 263.) for the original atoms, or primary par- ticles of all things. Modern cnymists use the term ultimate particles,

• She again resolves them at their dissolution.] Ver. 52. Natura perempta resolvat. That is, res peremptas, as Lambinus, Faber, and Creech unanimously interpret. Lucretius changes tne gender to the neuter, after having just before used resy which creates some obscurity.

6 LUCRETIUS. b. i. 54—69.

and to designate as the seeds of all things, and to term them primary bodies, because from them as primary all things are derived.

[For the whole nature of the gods* must necessarily, of itself, enjoy immortality in absolute repose, separated, and far removed, from our affairs^ for, exempt from all pain, exempt from perils, all-sufficient in its own resources, and needing nothing from us, it is neither propitUted by ser- vices from the goody nor affected with anger against the badJ] \ y'When the life of men ^ lay foully grovelling before our eyes, . crushed beneath the weight of a Religion,^ who displayed her head from the regions of the sky, lowering over mortals with terrible aspect, a man of Greece* was the first that dared* to raise mortal eyes against her, and first to make a stand against her. Him neither tales of gods,* nor thunderbolts, nor

* For the whole nature of the gods, S^c,'] Ver. 57. The passage en- closed in brackets is considered by Faber, Bentley, Wakefiela, and others, to be out of place in the original. It occurs again ii. 645, whence Isaac Vossius thinks it was transferred to this place, hj some critic who wished to show that Lucretius was at variance with himself, in invoking divine assistance, and yet excluding the gods from all concern with mortals. If it were so, the critic probably placed it in the margin, from which it crept into the text. Lachmann, the last editor, has struck it out. See note on ver 25.

' When the life of men, S^c,'] Ver.^ 63. ^ ** The terrible picture which Lucretius has drawn of Religion, in order to display the magnanimity of his philosophical hero in opposing her, is thought to be designed with great boldness and spirit." Burke on the Sublime and Beautiful, tub Jin, But, as Burke indicates, the terror of the picture is produced, not by exactly portraying tne features of the phantom, but by leaving them obscure and unaefined. It is a picture of the same class as that of the spirit in Job : '* A spirit passed before my face ; — it stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: " or as that of* Death in Milton: " If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none Distinguishable."

* Religion.] Ver. 64. Religione. Evelyn, Drummond, Good, and the anonymous translator of the First Book, as well as Coutures, concur in rendering this word by Superstition. But this is wrong; for neither Epicurus nor Lucretius attacked the belief in the gods, and in punishments after death, as a Superstition^ but as a Religion, It is a Superstition to us, but it was a Religion to men of those days. Accordingly Marchetti, Creech, and^ Busby have very properly adopted tne term Religion in their versions.

* A man of Greece.] Ver. 66. Graius homo, Epicurus.

» Tales of gods.] Ver. 69. Fama deUrn, " De diis fabulse." Creech, The reader will find in Wakefield's edition /ana deUm, from

B. I. 70—93. LUCRETIUS. 7

heaven itself with its threatening roar, repressed, but roused the more the active energy of his soul, so that he should de- sire to be the first to break the close bars of nature's portals. Accordingly the vivid force of his intellect prevailed, and pro- ceeded far beyond the flaming battlements ^ of the world, and in mind and thought traversed the whol6 immensity of space ; hence triumphant, he declares to us what can arise into being, and what can not ; in fine, in what way the powers of all things are limited, and a deeply-fixed boundary assigned to each. By which means Religion, brought down under our feet, is bruised in turn ; and his victory ^ sets us on a level with heaven.

In treating of these subjects, I fear thou mayest haply think that thou art entering on forbidden elements of phi- losophy, and commencing a course of crime. Whereas, on the contrary, that much-extolled Religion ^ has too fre- quently given birth to criminal and impious deeds ; as when at Aulis the chosen leaders of the Greeks, the chief of men, foully stained the altar of the virgin Trivia with the blood of Iphigenia. When the fillet, clasping her virgin tresses, drop- ped from each cheek in equal length, and she saw her sire stand sorrowing before the altars, and the attendant priests, close by him,* concealing the knife, and her countrymen shedding tears at the sight of her, she, dumb with fear, dropping

a conjecture of Bentley's, which to Wakefield appeared egregia^ and which Lachmann has adopted. I must say that I think the olafama to be preferred, as being a word of much larger meaning.

* Beyond the flaming battlements, 4r<^.] Ver. 74. Extra flammantia fncenia mundi, " He pass*d the flaming hounds of space and time." Gray, Progr. of Poesy. " Not even the whole world is sufiicient for contemplation and meditation in human intellectual excursion, but the thoughts often pas^ beyond the bounds of that whole which sur- rounds us." Lonffinus, Sect. xxxv.

« Hia victory.] " Victoria Epicuri." Lambinus, 3 That much-extolled Religion.] Ver. 83. lUa Religio. The old reading was olim, but ilia seems infinitely better.

* Close by him.] Ver. 91. Eune propter. These words may be understood as meaning either near Agamemnon, or on account of Aga- memnon, Evelyn and Creech prefer the latter sense; but Faber, Preiger, and Good adopt the former, which appears to me the more reasonable of the two. It seems natural to conceive Iphigenia, who is the chief personage, as simply f ontemplatine the priests conceal- ing their knives near her father^ not as considering whether they were concealing them on account of her father or not.

8 LUCRETIUS. b. i. 94-lia

on her knees, sank to the earth ; nor could it, at snch a time, avail the hapless maiden that she had been the first to bless the king with the name of father. For, raised by the hands of men, and trembling, she was led' to the altar ; not thai; the solemn service of sacrifice being performed, she might be accompanied with the loud bridal hymn; but spotless, though stained, she might, even in her wedding prime, fall a sad victim by her father's immolating hand, that a successful and fortunate voyage might be granted to the fleet To such evils could Religion persuade mankind I ^y^

Wilt thou too, overcome by the frightful tales of bards, ever seek to turn away from me ? Surely not ; for doubt- less I, even now, could invent ' for thee many dreams, which might disturb the tenor of thy life, and confound all thy enjoyments with terror. And with reason too under the present system of belief; for did men but know that there was a fixed limit to their woes, they would be able, in some measure, to defy the religious fictions and menaces of the poets; but now, since we must fear eternal pun- ishment at death, there is no mode, no means, of resisting them. For men know not what the nature of the soul is ; whether it is engendered with us, or whether, on the con- trary, it is infused into us at our birth,^ whether it perishes with us, dissolved by death, or whether it haunts the gloomy shades and vast pools of Orcus, or whether, by divine in- fluence, it infuses itself into other animals, as our Ennius'

' T, even now, could invent.] Ver. 105. Ij as a poet, could, like other poets, invent abundance of tales, magnifying the wrath of the gods, and inculcating the probability of Tartarean punishments for errors committed in this world ; tales that would haunt thy imagin- ation, disturb thy peace of mind, and contribute to make thee the slave of anxiety and perplexity. ^

' Is infused into us at our birth.] Ver. 114. Xateentibua nuinu- etur. The same (questions have been asked by other philoso- ^phers since Lucretius. "Relying on our acquired knowledge,** 'says Voltaire, " we venture to discuss the question whether the soul' is created before us? whether it comes from nothing into our bodies? At what age it placed itself within us ? .... Whe- ther, after animating us for a few moments, its essence is to live after us in eternity ? . . . These questions have an appearance of sublimity ; what are thev but the questions of men born blind, discussing the nature of light? " See more on this subject, iii. 670, atq* * Ennius.] Ver. 118. He was a Pythagorean, and thought that the

B. I. 119—144. LUCRETIUS. 9

sung, who first brought from pleasant Helicon a crown of never-fading leaf, which should be distinguished in fame throughout the Italian tribes of men ; though in addition, how- ever, Ennius, setting it forth in deathless song, declares that there are temples of Acheron, whither neither our souls nor our bodies penetrate, but onfy phantoms, strangely pale, -from amongst whom he relates that the apparition of undying Ho- mer, rising up before him, began to pour forth briny tears, and to expound in words the nature of things.

Wherefore with reason then, not only an inquiry concerning celestial affairs is to be accurately made by us, (tis by what means the courses of the sun and moon are effected, and by what influence all things individually are directed upon the earth,) but especially also we must consider, with scrutinizing examination,^ of what the soul and the nature of the mind consist, and what it is, whichj haunting us, sometimes when awake, and sometimes when overcome by disease or buried^ in sleep, terrifies the mind ; so that we seem to behold and to hear speaking before us, those whose bones, after death is passed, the earth embraces.

QNor does it escape my consideration, that it is difficult to explain in Latin verse the profound discoveries of the Greeks, especially since we must treat of much in novel words, on account of the poverty of our language, and the novelty of the subjects. But yet thy virtues, and the expected pleasure of thy sweet friendship, prompt me to endure any labour whatsoever, and induce me to out-watch the clear cold nights, 2 weighing with what words, with what possible

soul of Homer had passed into himself Pera, Sat. yi. 10. Cicero al- ludes to the appearance of the shade of Homer to him, Quaest. Acad, iv. 16. ^ ^

' Scrutinizing examination.] Ver. 131. Ratione aagaci. Lucretius is fond of this word. " Sagaces propria canes dicuntur^ quia inest in eis vis odorandi eximia." Lambimu, The derivation is from tapire. to perceive acutely. *

' Clear cold nights.] Ver. 143. The original is only noctea serenas. The critics are afi in aouht what sort of nights to understand. Mu- retus (Var. Lect. xviii. 13) thinks they are atunmer nights, Wake- field, with Creech, supposes that they are merely tranquil nights, free from noise, and suitable for studv. But serenua must surely have relation to the state of the atmospnere, and I think that Evelyn had a right notion of the word when he gave the passage thus :

But yet thy worth, and the felicity

10 LUCRETIUS. B.r. 145-160.

verse, ^ I may succeed in displaying to thy mind those clear lights, by which thou mayest be able to gain a thorough in- sight into these abstruse subjects.

This terror and darkness of the mind, therefore, it is not the rays of the sun, or the bright shafts of day,^ that must dispel, but reason and the contemplation of nature;^ of which our first principle shall hence take its commence- ment, THAT NOTHING IS EVEB DIVINELY* GENERATED FROM

NOTHING. For thus it is that fear restrains all men, because they observe many things effected on the earth and in heaven, of which effects they can by no means see the causes, and therefore think that they are wrought by a divine power. For which reasons, when we shall have clearly seen

that NOTHING CAN BE PRODUCED FROM NOTHING,^ WC shall

then have a more accurate perception of that of which we are in search, and shall understand whence each individual thing is generated, and how all things are done without the agency of the gods. 'TN

For if thiS^come forth from nothing,® every kind of thing

I find in thy sweet friendship, me persuade Cold nights to watch —

I have therefore added Evelyn's cold to Lucretius 's clear,

* With what possible verse.] Ver. 144. Qyo carmine demum. With what verse at length.

* Bright shafts of day.] Ver. 148. Lucida tela diei, "Rays of the sun. Thus the Gree*ks, fteXri riiKioio." Fdber, Ausonius has bor- rowed the phrase, Luciferique pavent^ letalia tela diei. Mosell. 260. Mason, also, in his English Garden, ii. 151, " Bright darts of day."

* Contemplation of nature.] Ver. 149. Naturte species, " S^des^ i^^aapia, 17 ^ka, that is, contemplation," Lambinus. So Faber. Wake> field would rather make it form or image ; but who will second him?

* Divinely.] Ver. 151. Divinitus, Tliat is, divino numine, as he has it in ver. 155. He is anxious to show, that however things are produced, the gods have nothing to do witn their production.

* Nothing can be produced from nothing.] Ver. 156. Nil posse erearidenihilo. It is to be observed that the word creo was never used among the Latin writers of the better ages in the sense in which we use the word creatCj that is, to make out of nothing. In all but Christian theological writers it means to produce one thing from another. Gibbon has a remark to this efiect in one of his notes.

* If things came forth from nothing, 4f^.] Ver. 160. Nam si de nihilo fierenty &c. If things could come from nothing, then, wher- ever, in the midst of things, there might be nothing existent, some- thing might thence arise; wherever there might be a vacuum^ (for

B. I. 161—186. LUCRETIUS. 1 1

might be produced from all things ; nothing would require seed. In the first place, men might spring from the sea ; the scaly tribe, and birds, might spring from the earth ; herds, and other cattle, might burst from the sky ; the culti- vated fields, as well as the deserts, might contain every kind of wild animal, without any settled law of production : nor would the same fruits be constant to the same trees, but would be changed ; and all trees might' bear all kinds of fruit. Since, when there should not be generative elements for each prO' duction, how could a certain parent-producer remain invariable for all individual things ? But now, because all things are severally produced from certain seeds, each is produced, and comes forth into the regions of light, from that spot in which the matter, and first elements of each, subsist. And for this cause all thiiigs cannot be produced from all, inasmuch as there are distinct and peculiar faculties in certain substances.

Besides, why do we see the rose put forth in spring,^ corn in summer heat, and vines under the influence of autumn, if it be not because, when the determinate seeds of things have united together at their proper time, whatever is produced appears while the seasons are favourable, and while the vigorous earth securely brings forth her tender productions into the regions of light. But if these were generated from nothing, they might arise suddenly at indefinite periods, and at unsuitable seasons of the year, inasmuch as there would be no original elements, which might be restrained from a generative combination at any season, however inconvenient.

Nor, moreover, would there be need of time for the coming together of seed^ for the growth of things, if they could grow

which he afterwards arffues,) something might spring up from that v<icuum. Should there be a vacuum in the sea, a man might spring from it;- should there be a vacuum in the air, a tree might flourish out of it. Seed, or originating particles, would be quite superfluous ; simple vacant space, the abode of non-entity, would sufiice to pro- duce abundance of entities. The rest of the paragraph follows of course. This is his Jfirst argument on this head. I have translated fierent " came forth," as being more suitable to what follows.

* The rose put forth in spring.] Ver. 175. This is his second argw/nenir-ixQim. time. If things may spring up in any place from nothing, why should they not also spring up at any time from no- thin ?

• For the coming together of seed.] Ver. 185. His third argu^

12 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 187—210.

out of nothing. For young men might on a sudden be formed from puny infants, and groves, springing up unexpectedly, might dart forth from the earth ; of which things it is plain that none happen, since all things grow gradually, as is fitting, from unvarying atoms, and, as they grow, preserve their kind, so that you may understand that all things individually are enlarged and nourished from their own specific matter.

Add to this, that the earth cannot furnish her cheering fruits without certain rains ^ in the year; nor, moreover, can the nature of animals, if kept from food, propagate their kind, and sustain life; so that you may rather deem that many elements are common to many things, (as we see letters common to many words,) than that any thing can exist with- out its proper elements.

Still further, why could not nature produce men of such^ a size that they might ford the sea on foot,^ and rend great moun- tains with their hands, and outlast in existence many ages of human life, if it he not because certain matter has been assigned for producing certain things, from which matter it is fixed what can or cannot arise ? It must be admitted therefore, that no* thing can be made from nothing, since things have need of seed, from which all individually being produced, may be brought forth into the gentle air of heaven.

Lastly, since we observe that cultivated places excel* the imcultivated, and yield to our hands better fruits, we may see

ment — ^from tuUural growth. If things might grow up from nothing, why might they not he enlarged, and enlarged suddenly, from nothing ?

* Without certain rains, 4r<7.] Ver. 193. "Ris fourth argument— troxn the necessity of certain bodies for the ntUriment of others. If things can- not even grow, after they had arisen, without the presence of cer- tain other matter, who, he asks, can he so foolish as to believe that they arose at first from no matter at all ?

' Produce men of such, Sgc,'] Ver. 200. His^if^ argument — from the definite size of animals, and other natural productions. If, for instance, men mi^ht spring from nothing, why should they not spring of- a larger size from nothing ? If they could grow at all from nothing, why should they not grow to any extent whatever from nothing?

' Ford the sea on foot.] Ver. 201. Per vada. " Like Polyphemus, Virg. Mn, iii. 665, Gramturque per sequor jam medium, nee dum fiuctuslatera arduatinxit." Lamhinus,

* Cultivated places excel, ^c.] Ver. 209. His sixth argument — from the improvement of natural productions. If things sprung from no-

B. I, 211—232. LUCRETIUS. 13

that there are in the ground the primitive elements of things, which we, in turning the fertile glebe with the ploughshare, and subjugating the soil of the earth, force into birth. But were there no suck seeds, you might see things severally grow up and become much better of their own accord with- out our labour.

Add, too,' that nature resolves each thing into its own constituent elements, and does not reduce any thing to

NOTHING.

For if any thing were perishable in all its parts, every thing might then dissolve, being snatched suddenly from be- fore our eyes ; for there would be no need of force to pro- duce a separation of its parts, and break their connexion. Whereas now, since all things individually consist of eternal seed, nature does not suffer the destruction of any thing to be seen, until such power assail them as to sever them with a blow, or penetrate inwardly through the vacant spaces, and dissolve the parts.

Besides, if time utterly destroys^ whatever things it removes through leng& of age, consuming all their constituent matter, whence does Venus restore to the light of life the race of animals according to their kinds ? Whence does the varie- gated earth nourish and develope them, when restored, af- fording them sustenance according to their kinds ? Whence do pure fountains, and eternal nversjiovnng from afar, supply the sea?^ Whence does the asther wed the stars? For infinite

thing, why might they not improve themselves from nothing, and why mifi^ht we not leave them to do so ?

* Add, too, 4f^.] Ver. 214. Having proved that nothing is generated from nothing, he now proceeds to prove that nothing is reduced to nothina. To this end his Jirst argument, ia, that if things could he reduced or resolved into nothing, there woiild probably be instances seen of things falling away and vanishing suddenly mto annihilation, instead of all things decaying gradually into their ele- ments as they do at present.

» Besides, if time utterly destroys, ^tf.l Ver. 226. The second argu- ment. Things decay and are renovated ; hut how could this reno- vation take place, unless there were imperishable material atoms from which tney might be recruited ?

■ Supply the sea?j Ver. 232. Mare — suppeditant. " Lambinus and Pareus take stqipeditant absolutely, in the sense of suppetunt or parata sunt; but it is better to take it actively, in the sense of supplent or subministrant." Creech, Creech's interpretation is doubtless right: the other is not in accordance with the drift of the paragraph.

14 LUCRETIUS. b. i, 233—266.

time already past, and length of days, ought to have con- sumed all things which are of mortal consistence : but if those elements, of which this sum of things consists and is renewed, have existed through that long space, and that past duration of time, they are assuredly endowed with an immortal nature. Things therefore cannot return to nothing.

Further, the same force ^ and cause might destroy all things indiscriminately, unless an eternal matter held them more or less bound by mutual connexion. For a mere touch, indeed, would be a sufficient cause of destruction, supposing that there were no parts of eternal consistence, but all perishable^ the union of which any force might dissolve.^ But now, because various connexions of elements unite together, and matter is eternal, things continue of unimpaired consistence, until some force of sufficient strength be found to assail them, proportioned to the texture of each. No thing, therefore, relapses into non- existence, but all things at dissolution return to the first principles of matter.

Lastly^ you may say, perhaps, the showers of rain perish,^ when Father -^ther has poured them down into the lap of Mother Earth. But it is not so ; for hence the smiling fruits arise, and the branches become verdant on the trees ; the trees themselves increase, and are weighed down with produce. Hence, moreover, is nourished the race of man, and that of beasts ; hence we see joyous cities abound with youth,* and

^ Further, the same force, fire] Ver. 239. The third argument. Why does not any one force destroy all substances, unless because they consist of different elementary atoms, intimately interwoven, and those atoms severally indestructible ? Were not the atoms imperish- able, the same force that dissolves their combination might utterly destroy them.

* Might dissolve.] Ver. 244. Deberetdissolvere. Would necessarily have the power of dissolving.

' The snowers of rain pensh, S^c."] Ver. 251. The fourth argument. Perhaps you incline to think that things which vanish, as showers of rain, from the face of the earth, are annihilated ; but to think thus would be folly ; for the moisture of these showers, dispersed through the ground, assists to produce com, and all manner of fruits. So it is with other things ; the atoms of that which is dis- solved increase the substance and promote the growth of that which is rising into being.

'* Joyous cities abound with youth.] Ver. 256. Lcstas urbes ptierum florere videmus, '* Ftorere is abtmdare; with which acceptation of the word the genitive case suits extremely well." Wakejleld,

B. I. 257—282* liUCRETIUS. 15

the leafy woods resound on every side with newly-fledged birds ; hence the weary cattle, sleek in the rich pastures, re- pose their bodies, and the white milky liquor flows from their distended udders ; hence the new offspring gambol sportive, with tottering limbs, over the tender grass, their youthful hearts exhilarated with pure milk.^ Things, therefore, do not utterly peidsh, which seem to do so, since Nature recruits one thing from another, nor suffers any thing to be produced, unless its prodtuction be furthered by the death of another.

Attend, noWt further:^ since I have shown that things can- not be produced from nothing, and also that, when produced, they cannot return to nothing, yet, lest haply thou shouldst begin to distrust my words, because the primary particles of things cannot be discerned by the eye, hear, in addition, wkat substances thou thyself must necessarily confess to exist, al- though impossible to be seen.

In the first place, the force of the wind, when excited, lashes the sea, agitates the tall ships, and scatters the clouds ; at times, sweeping over the earth with an impetuous hurricane, it strews the plains with huge trees, and harasses the moun- tain-tops with forest-rending blasts ; so violently does the deep chafe with fierce roar and rage with menacing murmur. The winds, then, are invisible bodies, which sweep the sea, the land, the clouds of heaven, and, agitating them, carry them along with a sudden tornado. Not otherwise do they rush forth, and spread destruction, than as when a body of liquid water ^ is

* Their youthful hearts exhilarated with pure milk.] Ver. 262. Lacte novo teneras percussa novellaa. "Versus planfe admirahilis, " says Faber. So thinks Good, and translates it thus : Each little heart Quivering beneath the genuine nectar quaffed. Why he chose to say beneath the nectar, I do not understand. The anonymous translator has it better :

From their dams as the rich draughts they drain,

Gladness and health flow fast through every vein.

* Attend, now, further : S^c.'] He now proceeds to show that there are atoms, the primary particles of all things, so small as to be im- perceptible to our senses ; and lest this should be doubted, he asks why such invisible particles should not exist as well as the sub- stance of the wind, and of odours, and of other matters, which, though we cannot see them, we must yet acknowledge to have ex- istence? This argument extends to Ver. 329.

■ A body of liquid water.] Ver. 282. Mollis aqucs natttra, Mol-

16 LUCRETIUS. b. i. 285-311.

borne along in an overwhelming stream, which a vast tor- rent ^ from the lofty mountains swells with large rain-floods, dashing together fragments of woods and entire groves ; nor can the strong bridges sustain the sudden force of the sweep- ing water, with such overwhelming violence does the river, turbid with copious rain, rush against the opposing mounds ; it scatters ruin with a mighty uproar, and rolls huge rocks under its waters ; it rushes on triumphant wheresoever any thing opposes its waves. Thus, therefore, must the blasts of the wind also be borne along ; which (when, like a mighty flood, they have bent their force in any direction) drive all things before them, and overthrow them with repeated as- saults, and sometimes catch them up in a writhing vortex and rapidly bear them off in a whirling hurricane. Where- fore, I repeat, the winds are substances, though invisible, since in their effects, and modes of operation,^ they are found to rival mighty rivers, which are of manifest bodily substance.

Moreover we perceive various odours of objects, and yet never see them approaching our nostrils. Nor do we behold violent heat, or distinguish cold with our eyes ; nor are we in the habit of viewing sounds ; all which things, however, must of necessity consist of a corporeal nature, since they have the power of striking the senses: for nothing, except

BODILY SUBSTANCE, CAN TOUCH OR BE TOUCHED.

Further, garments, when suspended upon a shore on which waves are broken, grow moist ; the same, when spread out in the sun, become dry ; yet neither has it been observed how the moisture of the water settled in them, nor, on the other hand, how it escaped under the influence of the heat. Tlie

Us for liquid or fluid, as the Delphin editor justly observes. Comp. ii. 375. Virg. Mn, v. 817.

* Which a vast torrent, Bsc. ] Ver. 283. Flumine cUmndanti, quern — magnua decursus aquai. The qttem is the reading from certain eodicea of Wakefield, who says that Lucretius, in using the mascu- line gender, had in his mind the more general word fluvius. By such methods any thing apparently inexplicable may be explained. The quern should either be quod, as Lambinus and Havercamp have it, or we must suppose Lucretius to have used y^um^n in the masculine gender.

* Modes of operation,] Ver. 297. Moribus. Metaphorically, as if they were human beings.

B. I. 312-335. LUCRETIUS. 17

moisture, therefore, is dispersed into minute particles, which our eyes can by no means perceive.

Besides, in the course of many revolutions of the sun,^ a ring upon the finger is made somewhat thinner by wearing U; the fall of the drop from the eaves hollows a stone ; the crooked share of the plough, though made of iron, impercep- tibly decreases in the fields ; even the stone pavements of the streets we see worn by the feet of the multitude ; and the brazen statues, which stand near the gates, show their right hands made smaller by the touch of people frequently saluting them, and passing by. These objects, therefore, after they have been worn, we observe to become diminished ; but what particles take their departure on each particular occasion, jealous nature has withheld from us the faculty of seeing.^

Lastly, whatever substances time and nature add little by little to objects, obliging them to increase gradually, those substances no acuteness of vision, however earnestly exerted, can perceive ; nor, moreover, whatever substances waste away through age and decay ; nor can you discern what the rocks, which overhang the sea, and are eaten by the corroding salt^ of the ocean, lose every time that they are washed by the waves. Nature, therefore, carries on her operations by imperceptible particles.

Nor, however,* ^ are all things held enclosed by corporeal substance ; for there «s a void in things ; a truth which it will be useful for you, in reference to many points, to know ; and which will prevent you from wandering in doubt, and from perpetually inquiring about the entire of things, and from being distrustful of my words. Wherefore, I say, there is space intangible, empty, and vacant. If this were not the case,

* Many revolutions of the sun.] Ver. 312. MulHs solia redeuntibus atmis. " SoUs anni are anni aolares^ solar years." Havercamp,

* Faculty of seeing.] Ver. 822. ^ciem videndi. " Facultatem." Creech,

* Corroding salt.] Ver. 327. Veaco sale, " Lucretius has used vescut for edax or consuming, when he says, nee, mare quat impendent^ . vesco sale saxa pereaa,** Festtts,

* Nor, however.] Ver. 330. By an error of the press, these words are not made to commence a new paragraph in Forbiger's edition ; which they do in Wakefield's, and all other editions.

* lb. He now proceeds to demonstrate that there is a vacuum in things; space empty and intangible. His arguments seem sufii- cienUy intelligible to require no exposition.

c

18 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 336—365.

things could by no means be moved ; for that which is the quality of body, namely^ to obstruct and to oppose, would be present at all times, and would be exerted against all bodies; no- thing, therefore, would be able to move forward, since nothing would begin to give way. But now, throughout the sea and land and heights of heaven, we see many things moved before our eyes in various ways and by various means, which, if there were no void, would not so much want their active motion, as being deprived of it, as they would, properly speaking, never by any means have been produced at all;^ since matter, crowded together on all sides, would have remained at rest, and have been unable to act

Besides, although some things may be regarded as solid, yet you may, for the following reasons, perceive them to be of a porous consistence. In rocks and caves, the liquid mois- ture of the waters penetrates their substance, and all parts weep, as it were, with abundant drops ; food distributes itself through the whole of the body in animals ; the groves in- crease, and yield their fruits in their season, because nourish- ment is diffused through the whole of the trees, even from the lowest roots, over all the trunks and branches ; voices pass through the walls, and fly across the closed apartments of houses ; keen frost ^ penetrates to the very marrow of our bones ; which kind o^ effects, unless there were void spaces in bodies, where the several particles might pass, you would never by any means observe to take place.

Lastly, why do we see some things exceed other things in weight, though of no greater shape and bulk? For, if there is just as much substance in a ball of wool as there is in a ball of lead, it is natural that they should weigh the same, since it is the property of all bodily substance to press every thing downwards ; but the nature of a void, on the contrary, continues without weight. That body, therefore, which is equally

* Would not so much want their active motion, (as being deprived of it, ) as they would, properly speaking j never by any means have teen produced at all.] Ver. 344.

Non tarn sollicito motu privata carerent, Quam genita omnino niill^ ratione fuissent.

The construction of the English appears awkward, but answers ex- actly to the Latin.

* Frost.] Ver. 356. He considered cold and heat as material and active substances. Comp. ver. 495.

*. 1. 366—398. liUCRETIUS. 19

large with another, «ad is evidently lighter, shows plainly that it contains a greater portion of vacuity. But the heavier body, on the other hand, indicates that there is in it more materia} «uhstance, and that it comprises much les& empty space.

That, therefore, which we are now, by the aid of searching argument, investigating, that, namely/, which we call void ; is doubtless mixed among material substances.

In considering these matters, I am obliged to anticipate that objection which some imagine, lest it should seduce you from the truth. They say, for instance, that water yields to fishes pushing forwards, and opens liquid passages, since the fish leave spaces behind them, into which the yielding waters may make a conflux ; so also that other things may be moved among themselves, and change their place, although all parts of space be full. But this notion, it is evident, has been wholly conceived from false reasoning. For in what direc- tion, I pray, will fish be able to go forward, if the water shall not give them room ? Or in what direction, moreover, will, the water have power to yield, supposing the fish shall have no power to go forward to divide it ? Either, therefore, we must deny motion to all bodies whatsoever, or we must admit that vacuity is more or less inherent in all material substances, whence every thing that moves derives the first commencey ment of its motion.

Lastly, if two broad and flat bodies, after having come in- to collision, suddenly start asunder, it is clear tliat air must necessarily take possession of aU the vacuum which is then formed between the bodies. And further, although that air may quickly unite to fiow into the vacancy, with blasts blowing rapidly from all sides, yet the whole space will not be able to be filled at once ; for the air must of necessity occupy some part first, then another, till in succession all parts be occupied.

But if any person perchance, when the bodies have started asunder, thinks that that separation is thus efiected by reason that the air condenses itself, he is in error ; for a vacuum is then formed between the bodies, which was not there before, and the part likewise behind the bodies, which was vacant be- fore, is filled ; nor can air be condensed in such a way ; nor, even if it could, would it have the power, I think, to draw it- self mto itself,^ and unite its particles together without the aid

* To draw itself into itself.] Ver. 398. Ipse in se trahere, Lam-

c 2

20 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 399—421.

of a void. For which reason, although you may long hesitate, alleging many objectionsy you must nevertheless at last con- fess that there is vacuum in bodies.

I have the ability, moreover, to collect credit for my doc- trines,^ by adducing many additional arguments. But these small traces which I have indicated will be sufficient for a sa- gacious mind ; traces by which, indeed, you yourself may dis- cover others. For as dogs, when they have once lighted upon certain tracks on the path, very frequently find by their scent the lair of a wild beast that ranges over the mountains, though covered over with leaves ; so you yourself will be able, in such matters as these, to note, of your own sagacity, one principle after another, and to penetrate every dark obscurity, and thence to elicit truth.

But if you shall be slow to assent, O Memmius, or if you shall at aU shrink back from the subject, I can still certainly give you the following assurance. My tongue, so agreeable to you, will have the power of pouring forth from my well- stored breast such copious draughts^ from mighty sources, that 1 fear lest slow old age may creep over our limbs, and break down the gates of life within us, before all the abundance of arguments in my verses, concerning any one subject, can have been poured into your ears. But now, that I may re- sume my efforts to complete in verse the weaving of the web which I have begun, give me a little more of your attention.

As it is, therefore, all nature of itself has consisted, and consists, of two parts ; for there are bodily substances, and

binus, Creech, and others, g^ve Se ipse in ie trahere, Wakefield pronounces the Se before ipse to he auffarcinatum^ reclamantibtts et remtetUibys multis libris et codicibtu. So the readers of Wakefield and Forbiger (whom Lachmann follows) must understand «e, or suppose trahere to he used absolutely.

* Collect credit for my doctrines.] Ver. 402.

Multaque praeterea tibi possum commemorando Arg^menta fidem dictis corradere nostris.

Forbiger and Wakefield leave these lines without any point ; Ha- vercamp puts a comma after argumentay as is necessary, to prevent misconstruction.

• Such copious draughts.] Ver. 413. "He signifies that he will pour forth, if necessary, such a profusion of arguments drawn from the doctrine of Epicurus, that it is to be feared lest Memmius and himself should gprow old and die, before Memmius has understood any one subject or heard it to an end." Lambinut,

B. I. 422--432. LUCRETIUS. 21

vacant space, in which these substances are situate, and in which they are moved in different directions. For the com- mon perception of all men shows that there is corporeal con- sistence ; ^ of the existence of which, unless the belief shall be first firmly established, there will be no principle by referenoe" to which we may succeed, by any means whatever, in settling the mind with argument concerning matters not obvious to sense.

To proceed then, if there were no place,* and no space which we call vacant, bodies could not be situated any where, nor could at all move any whither in different directions ; a fact which we have shown to you a little before. •

Besides, there is nothing' which you can say is separate from aU bodily substance, and distinct from empty space;

* The common perception of aU men sKows that there is corpo- real consiste^ice.] Ver. 423^ Corpus enim per se communia dedicat nee Senstu, The common perception of all men, in all parts of the world, in all ages. '' This especially Epicunis resolutely maintains, that the senses are to he trusted, and never deceive us ; and that from the senses all knowledge and understanding of all things com- mences. So in ver. 694 of this hook, Lucretius savs it is the senses unde omnia credita pendent," Faber. Epicurus establishes the exist- ence of corporeal substance in the manner in which Johnson said that he refuted the doctrine of Berkeley, by striking his foot against a post. This was also the '^ common sense" method of Reid and his disciples ; and -which of us all, however we may reason, does not act upon it? To Berkeley has been imputed a thousand and a thousand^ times that which he never believed or imagined.

Lucretius adds, that unless the existence of corporeal substance be acknowledgea, there will be no principle from which to reason on things in general.

* To proceed then, if there were no place, S^e,"] Ver. 427. This paragraph is to be understood thus : Unless there be space, where can bodies be situated? and unless there be somewhere vacuity, how can they move? He says he has shown that bodies could not move without a vacuum " a little before." See ver. 371, teg.

* Besides, there is nothing, ^c] Ver. 431, aeg. On this para-

f'aph I have to make these observations. In ver. 433, tertia numero, have omitted the latter word. Ever to diminutive is ^ven for parvo denique. Shall be eeneible to the touch, is in the original taetua eritj Faber explaining tcuftus to mean tacHUtas in a passive sense. See ver. 455. Increate the number of bodies, is Corporis augebit numerum^ which might be- rendered, increase the quantity of body. Lambinus and Creech, however, react eorporum; and I have accordingly pre- ferred to put bodies in the plural, and to render the succeeaing words, ammmamque sequetur, " will be ranked in the multitude ^ them.**

22 LUCRETIUS, b. t. 43S-462.

which would, indeed, be as it were a third kind of nature* For whatsoever shall exist, must in itself be something, either of large bulk, or ever so diminutive, provided it be at all ; when, if it shall be sensible to the touch, however light and Melicate, it will increase the number of bodies, and be ranked in the multitude of them ; but if it shall be intangible, inas- much as it cannot hinder in any part any object proceeding to pass through it, it then, you may be sure, will be the «mpty space which we' call a vacuum.

Moreover, whatsoever shall exist of itself, will either do something, or will be obliged to suffer other things acting upon it, or will simply be, so that other things may exist and be done in it. But nothing can do or suffer without being possessed of bodily substance, nor, moreover, afford placeyb?* acting and suffering, unless it be empty and vacant space. No third nature, therefore, distinct in itself, besides vacant space and material substance, can possibly be left undiscovered in the sum of things ; no third kind of being, which can at any time fall under Sie notice of our senses, or which any one can find out by the exercise of his reason.

For whatsoever other things are said to be,^ you will find them to be either necessary adjuncts of these two things, or accidents of them. A necessary adjunct is that which can never be separated and disjoined yrow its body without a dis- union attended with destruction to that body; as the weight of a stone, the heat of fire, the fluidity of water ; sensibility to touch in all bodies, insensibility to touch in empty space. On. the other hand, such things as slavery, poverty, riches, liberty, war, concord, and other things, by the coming or going of which the nature of the subject effected remains uninjured^ these we are accustomed (as is proper) to call accidents.

Time, likewise, is not an existence in itself, but it is merely our understanding that collects from things themselves what HAS been done in the past age ; what also is present ; what, moreover, may follow afterwards. And it must be owned

* For whatsoever other things are said to be, S^c,'] Ver. 450. These observations about adjuncts, and events or accidents^ are sufficiently clear to require no comment The observations about Helen being carried ofi*, Ssc, are, says Creech, nugae dialectioB, which Lucretius would not have inserted, but that to oppose the Stoics made it necessary.

«. 1. 463-488. LUCRETIUS. 23

that no one has conceived of time existing by itself apart from progressive motion and quiet rest.

Moreover, when writers say that Helen was carried off, and that the Trojan people were subdued in war, we must take care lest, perchance, those writers induce us to admit that those eventSy viz. the abduction of Helen and the subjugation of the Trojans, were of themselves ; when time, irrevocably past, has carried away those generations of men, of whom these transactions were the events or accidents. For what- ever shall have been done, will properly be called an event or accident, whether occurring to lands, or to legions ^ {that is, men) themselves.

Furthermore, if there were not this' bodily substance in things, nor this room and space in which all things severally are done, the flame lighted up by the love of Helen's beauty, spreading through the breast of the Phrygian Paris, would never have kindled the famous contests of cruel warfare ; nor would the wooden horse have secretly set fire to the citadel of the Trojans by a nocturnal delivery of Greeks. So that , you may plainly see that all transactions whatsoever do not CONSIST or EXIST of themsclves, as body does, nor are spoken of as existing in the same way as a vacuum exists ; but rather • that you may justly call them events or accidents of body, or of space in which all transactions are brought to pass.

Bodies, besides, are partly original elements ^ of things, and partly those which are formed of a combination of those ele- ments. But those which are elements of things, no force can break ; for they successfully resist all force by solidity of sub- stance; although, perhaps, it seems difficult to believe thsit

* To lands, or to legions.] Ver. 470.

Namque aliud terris, aliud legionibus ipsis Eventum dici poterit, quodquomque erit actum.

" Whatever things have occurred, you may justly say have happened to certain men or to certain landa (for there is no third, besides men and things) ; hut you cannot rightly say that those events were ; time, therefore, to which they belonged, is not; nor is there any thing «n rerum nahtrd besides body ana space,** Wakefield.

' Bodies, besides, are partly original elements, S^c."] Ver. 486. Hav- ing proved that there is nothing that can be said to exist absolutely, except body and space ; he proceeds to distinguish body into two kinds, simple and compound, and to prove that simple body, or the simple primary particles of all substance, must be solid.

24 LUCRETIUS. b» t. 48^-612.

any thing of so solid a substance can be found in nature ; for the lightning of heaven passes through the walls of houses, as also noise and voices pass; iron glows, being penetrated by heaty in the fire ; rocks often burst with fervent heat ; the hardness of gold, losing its fimmess, is dissolved by heat ; the icy coldness of brass, overcome by fiame, melts ; heat, and penetrable cold, enter into the substance of silver, for we have felt both with the hand, when, as we held silver cupe after our fashion,^ water was poured into them from above ; so that, as far as these instances go, there seems to be nothing solid in nature. But because, however, right reason, and the nature of things, compel me to hold a contrary opinion, grant me your attention a while, until I make it plain, in a few verses, that there really exist such bodies as are of a solid and eternal corporeal substance ; which bodies we prove to be seeds and primary particles of things, of which the whole generated universe now consists.

In the first place, since a two-fold nature ^ of two things, a two-fold nature, or rather two natures extremely dissimilar, has been found to exist, namely, matter, and space in which every thing is done, it must necessarily be th^t each exists by itself for itself, independently of the other, and pure from ad' mixture; for wheresoever there is empty space, which we call, a vacuum, there there is no matter, arid, likewise, wheresoever matter maintains itself, there by no means exists empty space. Original substances are therefore solid and without vacuity.

Furthermore, since in things which are produced,' or com"

* As we held silver cups after our fashion.] Ver. 496. Manu rett" nenies pocula rite, I have added the word silver from Creeches in- terpretation. Lucretius seems to have had in his imagination a guest at a feast, holding up his cup^ partly filled with wine, for an attendant to pour hot or cold water into it. They mixed cold water with their wine in summer, and hot in winter.

• In the first place, since a two-fold nature, 4r<?.] Ver. 504. Solid body and vacant space must exist distinct from each other; for where there is space that is not vacant, it must be filled with solid body ; and in space which is filled with solid body there can be no vacuity.

' Furthermore, since in things which are produced, 4rc.] Ver. 512. He has proved that vacuum exists; ana it must accordingly exist among compound bodies ; but that which, hounds it must be solid, or vacuum would bound vacuum ; and this solid may be a

B. I. 613-^36. LUCRETIUS. 25

pounded ofmatter,ihere is faundem.'ptj space, solid matter must exist around it ; nor can' any thing be proved by just argu- ment to conceal vacuity, and to contain it within its body, unless you admit that that which contains it is a solid. But that solid can be nothing but a combination of matter, such as may have the power of keeping a vacuity enclosed. That matter, therefore, which consists of solid body, may be eternal, while other substances, which are only compounds of this mat- ter, may be dissolved. *

In addition, too,^ if there were no space to be vacant and unoccupied, all space would be solid. On the other hand, unless there were certain bodies to fill up completely the places which they occupy, all space, which any where exists, would be an empty void. Body, therefore, is evidently distinct from empty space, though each ha^ its place alternately ; since all space neither exists entirely full, nor, again, entirely empty. There exist, therefore, certain bodies which can completely ^11 the places which they occupy, and distinguish empty space from full.

These bodies, which thus completely Jill space, can neither be broken 2 in pieces by being struck with blows externally, nor, again, can be decomposed by being penetrated internally ; nor can they be made to yield (f attempted by any other method ; a principle which we have demonstrated to you a little above ; for neither does it seem possible for any thing to be dashed in pieces without a vacuum, nor to be broken, npr to be divided into two by cutting ; nor to admit moisture, nor, moreover, subtle cold, nor penetrating fire, by which operations and

combination of solid original particles ; and, though this compound solid may he dissolved, yet the original solid atoms of which it is composed remain imperishable. This I consider to be the drift of the argument in the text, which, perhaps from some corruption, seems not very clear. ^ Lambinus has this comment : '^ Generatea things have vacuity within them ; otherwise they would not perish or be dissolved. But if they perish because they have vacuity in them, there must yet be matter in which there is no vacuity, solid and indis9oluble, lest all things should be reduced to nothine^. "

* In addition, too, S^eJ] Ver. 521. There must be boay that completely fills space, or how would empty space be disting^shed from full f

* These bodies — can ndther be broken, 4r<^.] Ver. 629. Since, then, there are solid bodies, they must be eternal ; for, since they contain no vacuity, how can they be broken or dissolved ?

26 LUCRETIUS, ' B. 1. 637—565.

means all things compounded are dissolved. And the more any thing contains empty space within it, the more it yields when thoroughly tried by these means. If, therefore, the primary atoms are solid and without void, they must of neces^^ sity be eternal*

Again, unless there had been eternal matter,^ all things, before this time, would have been utterly reduced to nothing ; and whatsoever objects we behold would have been reproduced ' from nothing. But since I have shown above, that nothing ^n be produced from nothing, and that that which has been produced cannot be resolved into nothing, the primary elements must be of an imperishable substance, into whidi primary elements every body may be dissolved, so that matt^ may be supplied for the reproduction of things. The pri- mordial elements, therefore, are of pure solidity ; nor could they otherwise, preserved, as they have been, for ages, re- pair things, as they have done, through that infinite space of time which has elapsed since the commencement of this material system.

Besides, if nature had set no limit ^ to the destruction of things, the particles of matter would, by this time, have been so reduced, by reason of every former age wasting them, that no body compounded of them could, from any certain time, however remote, reach full maturity of existence. For we see that any thing may be sooner taken to pieces than put together again; for which reason, that which the infinitely long duration of all past time had broken into parts, disturb- ing and dissevering it, could never be repaired in time to come. But now, as is evident, there remains appointed a cer- tain, limit to destruction, since we see every thing recruited, and stated portions of time assigned to every thing according to its kind, in which it may be able to attain full vigour of age*

* Again, unless there had been eternal matter, Sfc,'] Ver. 54K Had there been no such solid and imperishable bodies, tilings must, before this time, have been worn out and reduced to nothing, ana all that we see before us^ would have been a re-production from nothing. But this has been shown to be impossible.

' Besides, if nature had set no limit, ^c] Ver. 552. Had there been no bodies entirely solid, and not to be worn away, the dtoms of things would, before this period, texata per avom, have lost their power to make efiicient compounds*

B. I. 566^-592, LUCRETIUS. 27

To this is added,^ that though the primarp particles of mat- ter are perfectly fiolid^ yet that all things, which are formed of ^em, may he rendered soft and yielding^ as air, water, earth, fire (in whatever way they may he produced, and by what- ever influence they may be directed) ; but this happens be- cause there is vacant space intermingled with the substance of things compounded. But, on the other hand, if the primordial elements of things were soft, how strong flints and iron could be produced, no explanation could be given, for, by this supposition^ nature will be deprived of all possibility of com- mencing a foundation. The primordial dements^ therefore, are endowed with pure solidity ; by the dense combination of which all compound bodies may be closely compacted, and exhibit powerful strength. n

Moreover, if you still persist^ to say that no limit has been appointed to the dissolution of bodies, you will then, however, have to allow that there must remain certain dissoluble bodies in the world, which have not yet been assailed with any trial of their strengths But since dissoluble bodies are endued only with a fragile nature, it is inconsistent to suppose that they could have lasted through an infinite course of time, if they had been harassed, age after age, with innumerable assaults.

Further, since also a limit ^ has been assigned for the growth t>f things according to their kinds, and for their support of life ; and since it is established by the laws of Nature what each kind can or cannot do ; and since nothing is changed, but all things remain constant to such a degree, that even the birds of different plumage, all in succession, show, existing upon their bodies, spots distinctive of their species 5 we must

* To this is added, ^c] Ver. 5QQ. The original atoms are not the less solid because soft bodies are formed from them, for this is effected by the intermixture of vacuum ; were they in themselves soft, how would hard bodies he generated from them ?

' Moreover, if you still persisty 4r<?-] Ver. 578. But if vou will not allow there is a limit to dissolution, you must then allow that there are dissoluble bodies which have not yet been assailed by any power sufficient to destroy them ; hut to conceive that such bodies existj and that they have not been attacked, among all the changes in things since the beginning of time^ by any force sufficient to take effect on them^ is to suppose that which is scarcely credible.

• Further, since also a limit, ^c] Ver. 585 — 599. The uniform generation of natural productions must proceed from unvarying elements.

28 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 693—605.

grant that such bodies must have in them ^ an immutable ma- terial substance. For if the primitive particles of things could be changed, by being successfully wrought upon in any way, it would then ^so become uncertain what might or might not arise into being; it would be uncertain^ moreover, how far limited power, and a firmly fixed boundary, is set to each kind; nor, with such a possibility of alteration, would the tribes of animalsy according to their kinds, be so constantly able to re- produce the nature, motions, mode of life, and habits of their progenitors.

Again, since even of such a body as our senses cannot per- ceive,^ there is yet a certain extreme point, whatever it be, that point certainly exists without parts, and consists of the least possible natural substance ; nor has it ever existed of it- self, apart from its body, nor will it hereafter be able so to exist, since it is itself the first and last part ' of another body;

* T^e must grant that such bodies must have in them.l Ver. 592, &e. TmmutabiU materia gttoqiie corptis habere Dehent nimirum. Or, Such bodies must evidently have in them. I have frequently rendered nimirum by evidently. " Successfully wrought upon." Bevicta : i. e. " vicissim victa, et superata." lAimbinus,

' Again, since even of such a body as our senses cannot per- ceive, S^c,"] Ver. 600. Turn porrOy quoniam est extremum guodque caeu- men, &c. He now proceeds to confute those who think that matter is infinitely divisible, asserting^ that there must he, at the extremi- ties of the smallest conceivable body, apices, or points, which you cannot conceive possible to be detached from that body, and widi- out which you cannot conceive the body to exist. " Which t^nees, or least of things," says £vel3m, " may haply prove a notion to be hardly denied, wnether physically or mathematically taken, as the much-admired Gassendus largely demonstrates, where he speidcs, de non esse magnitudinem Epicuro in^niti dividuam, whither I reier the curious." These smallest conceivable corpuscles, from which no points can be detached, and which, in consequence, are indestnio- tible and everlasting, are the atoms of £{)icuru8 and Lucretius, from which all things are generated ; into which all things, in their turn, are dissolved ; and from which all natural productions that exist, are, as long as their existence is protracted, recruited and repaired.

' First and last part.] Ver. 605. Parsprimaque et ima, "Id est, et prima atque ultima." Lambinus, And so £velyn :

Since what we name

The first, or last, in bodies is the same.

The extreme^ point of a body is the first part of it, if you reckon from that point to the interior of the body ; and the last part of it, if you reckon ftom the interior outwards to that point. Had it not

B. 1. 606— 6ia LUCRETIUS. 29

after which other and other like parts in succession fill up, in a condensed mass, the substance of the bodj, which parts, since they cannot consist by themselves, must of necessity adhere to something else, from which they can by no means be detached.

Primordial atoms are therefore of pure solidity, which, composed of the smallest points, closely cohere ; not combined of a union of ai^y other things, but rather endowed witli an eternal, simple, and indissoluble existence, from which nature allows nothing to be broken off, or even diminished, reserving these primordial atoms as seeds for her productions.

Moreover, unless there shall be some least, ^ some point

been for the authority of Lamhinus, I was inclined to render it the ultimate and least part,

* Moreover, unless there shall he some least, Psc.l Ver. 617. Praterea, nisi erit minimum. It is observed by Locke, (Essay, book ii. chap. 23, § 81.) that " the infinite divisibility of matter^ -whether we grant or deny it, involves us in inexplicable conse- quences." If we allow that matter, that is, any portion of matter, is infinitely divisible, we admit that sl finite body contains an infinite number of parts ; if we affirm that it is not innnitely divisible, we say, that arter a certain number of divisions, we come to a por- tion of matter which has no parts ; for that which^ has parts must be divisible into those parts. (See Reid's Inquiry into the Human Mind.) From this dimculty Uie Epicureans cleared them- selves, by assertinpf that there are certain least possible quantities of matter ; quantities which are of course indivisible', and which are the atoms of which all things are constituted. '^ Observe," says Ba^rle, (Art. Zeno, note G,) *' that those who espouse the hjrpothesis of atoms, do not do it because they apprehend . that an extended body may be simple, but because they believe * • other hypotheses to be impossible." This is the case with Lucretius ; ne says that there have from the first been atoms, into which matter may be divided, but which cannot themselves be divided ; and were there not such atoms, he asks, or were there no limit to the division of matter, how could substances be kept dis- tinct, or how could things be preserved at all? How far the dis- coveries of modern chemistry uphold the hypothesis of atoms, is well known. See infrct^ on ver. 626.

Sir Isaac Newton admitted the same sort of atoms as Epicurus, referring their origination, however, to an Almighty ^ower. " It seems jwrobable," says he, " that God, in the beginning, formed matter in solid, massy, hard, impenetrable, moveable particles, of such sizes, figures, and with such other properties, and m such pro- portion to space, as most conduced to the end for which he formed them. And that these primitive particles, being solid, are incompar- ably harder than any porous body compounded of them ; even so

30 LUCRETIUS. ». i. 617-627.

%ohere division ends, the smallest bodies will individually con- sist of infinite parts, as, in that case, ant/ part of the half of any hody^ will always have its own half; nor will any thing set a limit to this ^vision. What, therefore, will be the ^M^- ference in their nature between the greatest and smallest of bodies ? ^ It will not be possible that there should be any difference ; for though the whole entire sum of things,^ or the Universe, be infinite, yet the smallest things which exist in it will equally consist of infinite parts. To which position since just reasoning is opposed, and denies that the mind can ad*> rait it, you must be prevailed upon to acknowledge that there are bodies which exist having no parts,* and consist of the least possible substance ; and since they are so, since they

very hard as never to wear or break in pieces." Note on Good's Lucretius, book i. ver. 536.

* ^ny part of the half of any body, arc] Ver. 618. DimiduB partu para, Preigerus observes that Lucretius does not sav tohat part of the halfy and therefore suspects the reading. It would be easy to un- derstand dimidia with para, and say the half of the half, but this I have not ventured to do. Creech, in his interpretation, abbreviates, according to his custom when there is any difficulty, and says Di- midia para semper haberet dimidiam partem,

^ Difference — between the greatest and smallest of bodies ?] Ver. 620. Ergo rerum inter aummam minimamgue quid eacit t Preige- rus understands aummam rerum ; what will be the difference between the universe and the smallest of objects? And this suits very well with what follows. I have, however, thought it safer to adhere to Creech, who interprets inter rem maximum et minimam* Either sense is equally illustrative of the argument.

What difference would there be

Betwixt the leaat and greateat quan title ?

Evelyn.

If there be no limit to the division of matter, the smallest quantity, and the gpreatest, will be equally divisible into an infinite number of parts. ' Whole entire sum of things.] Ver. 621. Funditua omnis aumma,

* There are bodies which exist having no parts.] Ver. 626. Eaae ea, qu€e nullia Jam pradita partibua extent. Here Lucretius means physical or material parts or points ; there are corpuscles, he says, which have no material parts, that is, no parts which can be separ- ated from them, so as to exist of themselves. Where he says above, ver. 606, that alia aigue aliae aimilea partea make up an atom, he means the same material parts ; not mathematical pointa, as Creech interprets it ; for no number of mathematical points, which are mere suppositions and non-entities, can make a substance.

B. 1. 628—636. LUCRETIUS. 31

are indivisible and undiminishable, you must also concede that thej are solid and eternal.

Further, unless Nature, the producer of things, had been accustomed to force all things to be resolved into minutest parts, the same -Nature would now be unable to recruit any thing from those parts; because those generated bodies which are augmented and repaired by no parts, ^ cannot have and re- tain unimpaired those affections which generative matter ought to have, namely, various connexions, weights, concussions, combinations, movements, by which things are severally brought to pass.

For which reason, those who think that fire^ is the original

' Because those generated bodies which are augmented and repaired by no parts, iscJ] Ver. 632. Prcpterea, quia qwe nullia eunt partibus aucta. I have endeavoured to make the best of these words, and to translate them as seemed most suitable to the drift of the author. All editions from Lambinus to Wakefield read muUia ; which was Lambinus's conjecture. Wakefield ** restored " nulUe ; saying that- by bodies rmllis partibus aucta, Lucretius means such as are in some degree opposed to atoms, as being, though simplicia, yet grandiusctila, and therefore gignendis rebus minus apta ; an explanation which does not satisfy even his satellite, Forbiger, and which decidedly, I think, will satis^ no one else ; for it introduces bodies to which no allusion is made m any other passage of Lucretius, and for which it would be hard to find authority in any thing that remains to us of Epicu- rus. All the translators seem to have followed the reading multis partibus; even Good deserts his master, and gives "still of parts possest." Lachmann, I am glad to see, has reinstated muUis^ thinking the sense of Lambinus better than the nonsense of the old copies, of which Wakefield was so enamoured. Drummond, following Lambinus, renders the passage thus :

Did Nature, from whose bosom things evolve, Ne]er into points their various forms dissolve, Vain were ner art, and vain her plastic care Aught of her moulderine^ ruins to repair ; For vain were compounds, as they ne'er comprise Due motion, weight, connexion, fx>rm, and size, Th* essential properties whence all began, Or to repair or renovate the plan.

Gifanius conjectured gwe ullis, which, notwithstanding tlie hiatus, is perhaps the true reading.

^ For ^hich reason, those who think that fire, 4r<?-] As nobody is now likely tp be misled by Heraclitus, to believe nre the origin of all things, we need bestow little comment upon his doctrine. The reader may consult, if he pleases, the Ninth Book of Diogenes Laertius. As Lucretius alludes, to a power to touch the ear agree-

32 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 637—661.

principle of things, and that the universe is maintained from fire alone, seem to have greatly erred from true reason. Of which philosophers Heraclitus, as leader, first comes to the battle ; a writer celebrated for the obscurity of his language, though rather among the vain and empty, than among the sensible Greeks, who seek for truth. For fools rather ad- mire and delight in all things which they see hid under in- versions and intricacies of words, and consider those assertions to he truths which have power to touch the ear agreeably, and which are disguised with pleasantness of sound.

For how, I ask, could things be so various, if they were produced from fire alone and pure from mixture f Since it would be to no purpose that hot fire should be condensed or rarefied, if the parts of fire retained the same nature which the whole of fire still has.' For though there might be a fiercer heat in the condensed parts, and a more languid warmth in the separated and dispersed, there is nothing more than this which you can conceive possible to be effected morhy such causes ; much less can so vast a variety of things originate from dense and rare fire. And this also is to he home in mind, that if they admit vacuity to be mixed with things, fire will then have the capability to be condensed, or left rare- fied ; but because they see that, in this admission of vacuity, there are many things adverse to them and their doctrines, and therefore shrink from admitting a pure vacuum to exist among substances, they thus, while they fear difficulties, lose the true path, nor observe that, on the other hand, all vacuity being removed from substances,^ all things would be condensed,

ably, bellt tangere aures, it might be supposed that Heraclitus, though obscure, wrote with some degree of elegance, but I no where find this mentioned.

* Fire still has.] Ver. 650. Habet super ignis, " Super : etiam, porro ; t^ee Trpof." Wakefield.

* All vacuity being removed from substances.] Ver. 661.

Nee rursum cernunt exemptum rebus inane, Omnia denseri, fierique ex omnibus unum Corpus —

Exemptum rebus inane is Wakefield's reading, which he explains, but I wish he had explained his explanation, Forbiger .adopts the read- ing tacitly, and forbears from attempting to interpret. If there is any construction to be given to the words, it must be that of the Greek nominative or accusative absolute. Lambinus, and his

B. I. 662—676. LUCRETIUS. 33

and one body would be fonned from all, which body could eject nothing from itself, as glowing fire emits light and heat, in such a manner that you may see it does not cpnsist of con- densed parts.

But if they think that fire may by any means be extinguished in close condensation, and change its natural consistence, and ify indeed, they shall not hesitate to allow that this may take place absolutely,^ then all heat, it is evident, will fall utterly to nothing, and whatever things are r^-produced, supposing all to have been prodticed from JirCy will be made out of no- thing. For whatever, being changed, departs from its own limits,^ this change in it is straightway the death or termin- ation of that which it was before. Something, therefore, supposing we admit their doctrine, must necessarily remain un- changed in that^rc of theirs, that all things, as you may see, may not utterly fall to nothing,^ and that the multitude of objects in the universe mtij not have-to-fiourish by being reproduced from nothing.

And now, therefore, since there are certain most con-

followers, read exempto rebus inani, which Lachmann has restored. Compare ver. 743. For mittere rapiim, a little below, I have given gimply pect

* Iff indeed, they shall not hesitate to allow — absolutely.] Ver. 668. Scilicet ex null&facete id H parte reparcent. " If, forsooth, they do not at all withhold admission from this, but allow that fire may be altogether extinguished, and, losing its own nature, may pass into another, it is all over with the philosophy of Heraclitus." Wakefeld.

' For whatever, being changed, departs from its own limits, 4rc.] Ver. 671.

Nam -quodcunque suis mutatum finibus exit, Continuo hoc mors est illius quod fiiit ante.

These lines pleased Lucretius so well that he repeated them three times ; i. 792 ; ii. 753 ; iii. 518. Evelyn renders them very neatly :

For whatsoever once its bounds doth pass, Straight perishes from what before it was.

Good is fiat enough :

For what once changes, by the change alone Subverts immediate its anterior life.

Busby has.

That which abdicates its nature dies.

I can find no other attempt worth quoting.

* That all things, as you may see, may not utterly fall to no- thing.] Ver. 674. Ne Obi res redeant ad nihuum funditua omnea,

D

34 ^ LUCRETIUS. b. i. 677—705.

stant elements, which always retain the same nature, by the departure and accession of which, and by their change of order, things alter their nature, and compound bodies con- vert themselves into a different consistence, it is easy to under- stand that these elements of things are not fiery. For it would be to no purpose that some of these elements should detach themselves and depart from one place, and be as- signed to another, and that some should have their order changed, if they all still retained the nature of fire, for whatever ^rc might produce would be in all forms onlt/ fire. But, as I am of opinion, the truth stands thus : There are certain elementary bodies, whose combinations, movements, order, position, shapes, produce fire, and which, when their order is changed, change their nature (zs a compound; nor, as I think, are they in themselves like to fire, or to any other thing, which has the power of emitting particles to our senses, and affecting our touch by its application.

To say, moreover, that all things are fire, and that no real substance exists in the whole number of things but fire, {an assertion which this philosopher makes,) seems to be in the highest degree absurd. Since he himself, while arguing from his senses, combats against his senses,^ and shakes the credit of those perceptions, on which all things that we believe de- pend, and by the aid of which that which he names fire is known to him. For he believes th^t his senses distinguish fire accurately ; other things, which are not at all less clear, he does not believe that they can distinguish ; an inconsistency which seems to me both folly and madness. For to what shall we refer for information ? What can be a more certain criterion to us than the senses themselves ? How, if we cease to trust them, can we distinguish what is true, and what is false ?

Besides, why should any one rather set aside all other things, and desire to admit the substance of fire as the only substance, than deny that fire exists, and still allow existence to all other substances'^^ For to advance either assertion, seems equal madness.

^ Combats against his senses.] Ver. 694. Contra sensua — repuffnat, ^* He contends against his own sei^ses^ which feel other things be- sides fire." Lambintu, To put trust m the senses was also a chief point in the arguments of Reid and his followers. CoAip. ver. 425.

' Allow existence to all other stUatances,'] Ver. 704. Summam ta-

B. I. 70^-722. LUCRETIUS. 35

Wherefore, those who have thought that fire is the pri- mary matter of things, and that the whole universe may originate from fire ; and those who have determined that air is the first principle ^ for the production of things ; those who have imagined that water can itself form things of itself; and those who have supposed that the earth produces all things, and is changed into all substances of things, appear all to have wandered extremely far from the truth.

To these add also those philosophers who couple the ele- ments of things,^ uniting Air with Fire, and Earth with Wa- ter ; and who think that from these four things, namely, from fire, earth, and air, and moisture, all bodies may proceed. Among the chief of whom is Empedocles^ of Agrigentum, whom, within the triangular coasts of its land, that island produced, around which the Ionian deep flowing with vast windings,* sprinkles on it salt^ from its blue waves, and the sea, rolling rapidly in a narrow channel, divides with its waves the shores of the lands of jEolia, (». e. Italy, )^ from the

men ease relinquat " Still resolve to maintain that all other things exist." Creech.

I Air is the first principle, S^c.'] Ver. 708, seg. Anaximenes of Miletus is said to have thought that air was the origin of things ; Thales taught that all sprung from water; and Pherecydes is re- ported to have said that the earth was the parent of all, but on what authoritv neither Faber nor I can discover. There were several philosophers, or pseudo-philosophers, of the name of Pherecydes, and who^ will prove which of them, or whether any of them, held this opinion ?

' who couple the elements of things.] Ver. 713. Conduplicant

primordia rerutn. " As were Xenophanes, whojoined earth and water ;^ Parmenides, who united fire and earth ; (Enopides of Chius, who mingled fire and air; Hippo of Rhegium, who put together fire and water." Faber,

• Empedocles.] Ver. 717. "He flourished in the 84th Olympiad; wrote in elegant verse concerning the nature of things ; and taught that all things were compounded of fire, air, earth, and water, and resolved themselves again into those four principles. He also said that there were two original moving powers, con6ord and discord, the one producing union, and the other separation. Plutarch, de Placit. rhilosoph. i. 3." Creech.

• Ionian deep flowing with vast windings.] Ver. 719. Qitamfltii- tana circutn moffnia amfractilnu (equor, " Amfractibus : anlittoris? an maris?" says Bentley. " Haud dubi^ maris," sa;^s Waketield.

• Sprinkles on t< salt.] Ver. 720. Virus. " Significare salsedinem et amarorem maris dudum docuit Tumeb. xix. 15." Havercamp.

• /Eolia, (». e. Italy. )'\ Ver. 722. On the margin of a copy belong-

D 2

36 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 723—749.

boundaries of it (viz. of Sicily), Here is the vast Charybdis, and here the murmurs of ^tna threaten, indicating that the mountain is again gathering its wrathful flames, that its vio- lence may vomit forth afresh the fires bursting from its jaws, and once more hurl to the sky its blazing lightnings ; which great region, though it seems worthy-of-admiration to the human race on many accounts, and is extolled as deserving- of-being-visited, being rich in valuable productions, and dt fended with a mighty force of inhabitants, yet appears to have contained in it nothing more excellent than this man, nor any thing more sacred, and wonderful, and estimable.^ The verses, moreover, tohich proceeded from his divine intel- lect, proclaim and expound his noble discoveries so eloquently^ that he scarcely seems to have been sprung from a human origin. He, however, and those whom I mentioned above, (men distinguishably below him by many degrees, and far in- ferior to him,) although, finding out many things excellently and divinely, they gave oracles, as it were, from the inmost- temple of their heart, more sacredly, and with much more true reason, than the Pythia who speaks from the tripod and laurel of Phoebus, yet stumbled^ in attempting to expound the principles of things, and, great as they were, fell there with a heavy downfal. In the first place they erred, because they settle that motion may take place, though all vacuum be ex- cluded from matter, and because they admit that there exist soft and subtle bodies, (air, sun, fire, earth, animals, vegetable productions,) and yet mingle no vacuity in their composition. Secondly, they erred, because they assert that there is no limit at all to the division of material-particles, and that no bound is set to their fracture ; nor do they at all allow that any least

ing to Havercamp was written in Latin : " That part (of Italy) which Jocastes tne son of ^olus fnhabited, along the strait of Sicily, was called ^olia." What authority there was for this state- ment, none of the critics discovered till Lachmann, who found that it was taken from Diod. Sic. v. 8 ; and that in a verse of Callima- chus, (apud Bentleium, n. 202,) Khegium in Italy is called the city of Jocastus the son of ^olus. Several copies, however, read Itali^e, and this reading Lachmann has adopted.

* More sacred, and wonderful, and estimable.] Ver. 731. Sanctum magis et mirum carumque. " Carum, TifiiwTtpov," Lambinus* " Pluris faciendum." Creech,

' Stumbled.] Ver. 741. Fecere ruinas. " Corruerunt, cecid6runt.** Faber, So also Lambinus.

B. I. 750^767. LUCRETIUS. 37

exists in bodies, although we see- that there is that least, namelyy the extreme point of every body, which seems to be least to our senses; *o that you may hence conclude that there exists in bodies a least possible quantity, which you yourself cannot perceive, but which, nevertheless, they have as an extreme.

To this is also added, that they make the elements of things to be soft bodies, which soft bodies we see to be generated, and altogether of a perishable consistence. But if the elements of things were soft and perishable, the whole universe must fall back to nothing,^ and the abundance of things flourish by being re-produced from nothing. But how far each of these suppositions is distant from the truth, you have already had proof

Besides, these four elements are in many ways hostile^ and destructive to one another ; for which reason, on coming to- gether, they will dther be naturally destroyed, or will start away from one another, as we see, when a tempest has arisen, the lightnings, and rains, and winds, not congregating together, but scattering themselves abroad.

Moreover, if all things are produced from those four bodies,^ and all things are again dissolved into those bodies, how can those four be more justly called the primary elements of things, than, on the other hand, things may be called the pri- mary elements of them, and a backward computation, as it

* Whole universe must fallback to nothing.] Ver. 757. If the elementarv particles of things were soft, the]^ would, plagis vexata per avom, harassed by long agitation and friction, he in time worn out and reduced to nothing.

' Besides, these four elements are in many ways hostile.] Ver. 760. Deinde inimica modis mtUtie sunt atque venena Ipsa sibi inter se. ** Are as it vrere poisons, that is, deadly and destructive, as water to fire, Sjc, * ** So Catullus calls a certam Rufus viUs venenum** Lam- binus. A little below I have translated tempestate coaetd, *' a tempest having arisen;" properly, a tempest being collected, Lambinus and others read cdortd,

* Moreover,' if all things are produced from those four bodies, 4rf.] Ver. 764. If you say that all things which we see before us, diBtinct from those four bodies, are formed from those bodies, how will you prove this ? why may you not say, with equal plausibility, that those four bodies are formed from whatever things we see dis- tinct from them ? How can you tell which were originals ?

38 LUCEETIUS. B. I. 768—798.

were, be made ? For, according to this hypothesiSy they are produced alternately, and change their appearance, and their whole substance among themselves, perpetually. But if perchance you imagine that the substances of Jire and earth, and ethereal air and the liquid of water, meet together in such a way that by their combination they make no change . in their nature, nothing will be produced for you from them, neither animated creature, nor any thing of inanimate sub- stance, as a tree ; for each element in the conflux of the vary- ing heap will exhibit only its own nature, and air will be seen to remain mixed together with earth and with some portion o/* liquid ;^ but primary elements, for the production of things, must exercise a latent and unapparent influence, lest any element arise above the rest, which may resist their action, and prevent whatsoever is being formed from being able to attain its proper character.

These philosophers, moreover, take a beginning from heaven and its flres, and make Are flrst to change itself into the air of the sky ; from air they say that water is produced, and that earth is generated from water ; and then they say again that all things return back from earth, flrst water, afterwards air, then heat ; and that these elements do not cease to interchange, and to pass from heaven to earth, and from earth to the stars of heaven ; which primary elements ought by no means to do. For it is necessary that there should remain something unchangeable, lest all things should be reduced utterly to nothing. Since whatsoever, being changed, goes beyond its own limits, this change becomes forthwith the death or ter- mination of that which it was before. Wherefore, since these four bodies which we have previously mentioned, pass into change,^ they must necessarily consist of other elements which cannot be changed in any way, lest all things should return, as you may suppose, utterly to nothing. But you may rather con-

* Some portion of liquid..] Ver. 777. Quodam cum rare, Lambinus read ardor cum rore, heat with liquid, which is infinitely to he pre- ferred.

^ Since these four bodies — pass into change.] Ver. 795. In com- mutatum veniunt. Commutatus, da. I believe it is a dva^ Xtyo/uvov, Lest all things should return, as you may suppose, S^c. Ne tibi res re- deant ad nihilum funditus omnes. See note on ver. 671.

B. I. 799—817. LUCRETIUS. 39

elude that certain bodies exihty endowed with such a nature, that if perchance they have generated fire, the same bodies may, a iew particles being taken away and a few being added, and their order and motion being changed, produce the air of heaven ; and that, in like manner, all other bodies may be changed into other bodies.

But manifest fact,^ you perhaps observe, evidently shows that all things grow, and are nourished upwards, from the earth into the air of heaven ; and, unless the season is indul- gent with favourable weather, unless the groves are shaken with rains and with the moisture of showers,^ and, you will add, unless the sun, for his part, cherishes the productions of nature and affords heat, com, trees, and animals would not be able to grow. Doubtless ; and unless solid food and soft liquid were to sustain ourselves, our bodies, ybr wantoftheniy being quickly exhausted, all life also would waste away from our nerves and bones ; for we are without all question supported and nourished by certain substances, and other and other things are nourished by certain substances; because, as is evident, many common elements of many things^ are mixed in many bodies in many ways; therefore various ^ngs are sustained by various tilings. And it is often of great conse-

' But manifest fact, S^cJ] Ver. 893. In this paragraph he answers an objection which may be made. He supposes the objector to allege that the four elements are necessary to natural production, and therefore may be the originals of things. To this he answers, that they are indeed necessary to production, but are not the more on that account the originals of things, than are the food and drink necessary to the nurture and sustenance of man.

' Groves are shaken — with the moisture of showers.] Ver. 806. Imbribus et tabe nimborum arbtuta vaeillant. Tabes, a word sometimes applied to the melting of snow, as in Lucan, x. 225, cited by Haver- camp. See also Livy, xxi. 36, who, in the same chapter, has both tabes nifria and tabida nix, — Are shaken.] Vaeillant : totter. See vi. 57 5 f Vaeillant omnia tecta,

» Many conunon elements of many things, S^eJ] Ver. 814.

Mtdtimodis communia muUie

Multarum rerum in rebus primordia multa Sunt.

** He manifestly makes it his business to repeat the same word as often as possible." Preigerue, Wakefield collects a few instances of a similar repetition of ^rac, as in Demosth. cont. Aristag. i. fin. — &7ravTa^ airaai iravra t* aya!^a ivx^^o.i.

40 LUCRETIUS. b. i. 818-837.

quence with what other elements^ and in what position, these same elements are combined, and what motions thej recipro- callj cause and suffer. For the same elements constitute the heaven, the sea, the earth, the rivers, the sun ; the same ele- ments constitute corn, woods, animals. But they are actuated and made effective by being mixed with other different ele- ments and in different ways.

Besides, even in my own verses ^ you see every where many elements common to many words ; although you must never- theless allow that the verses and words differ one from an- other both in sense and sound ; so much can elements effect, even if their order only be changed ! But those elements which are the principles of things, being more numerotis, can attract to themselves Taore^ and form more combinations, from which all the various things in the universe may severally be produced.

And now let us also examine the 'O/joiojjiipeia of Anax- agoras,^ as the Greeks call it ; nor does the poverty of our na- tive tongue, indeed, allow us to name it in our own language. But it is easy, however, to explain in words the thing itself, which, as the origin of things, he calls 'OfwiofUpeia. He thinks, that is to say, that bones are produced from small and minute bones; so likewise that flesh is generated from small and minute particles o/*flesh,^ and that blood is formed

* Besides, even in my own verses, Sfc.'] Ver. 823. If the various selections and combinations of four and twenty letters, can form so many words as are seen in my verses, how infinitely greater a va- riety of things may seminal atoms form, being so incalculably more numerous !

Mark, as my easy verse spontaneous flows,

How common letters various words compose,

Thou^ verse from verse, and word from word, be found

To differ widely, both in sense and sound ;

And hence convicted, let thy reason own

What wondrous change position forms alone.

Thus common seeds, more numerous far, unite

In all the different forms that greet the light. Drummond,

' 'Ofioiofisptia of Anaxa^oras.] Ver. 830. See Diog. Laert. book ii., and Plutarch de Placit. Philos. book i. From Sfioiog, like, and fiepoc, part The text sufiiciently explains it.

' Flesh is generated from small and minute particles of flesh.] Ver. 836. De pauxillie atque minutis Viecer^ma viscua gigni, Via^ ct*8 is rightly interpreted flesh : " Nam viscera sunt quicquid inter

B. I. 838-872. LUCRETIUS. 41

from many drops of blood meeting together ; he is of opinion^ moreover, that gold may consist of crumbs of gold, and that earth may be a concrete of little earths ; that fire may be from fires, and moisture from moistures. Other things he ima- gines and supposes to be produced in a similar way. Yet he does not allow that there is any where a void in things, cw that there is any limit to the division of bodies. Wherefore in both these respects he seems to me to err equally with those of whom we have before spoken.

Add to thisy that he supposes principles which are too frail, if, indeed, they are principles which are made to be endowed with like nature as the things themselves that are produced from them, and equally suffer and decay ; nor does any thing withhold them from destruction. For what portion of them will endure under violent oppression, so as to escape dissolu- tion under the very teeth of death ? Will it be fire, or moisture, or air ? which of these ? Or will it be blood, or bone ? Not one of all those substances, as I conceive ; since every thing uni- versally will be equally perishable as those things which we see manifestly perish from before our eyes, when overcome by any violence. But I call to witness the positions which I have before proved, that neither can things be reduced to no- thing, nor again grqw up from nothing.

Moreover, since food augments and nourishes the body, we may understand that veins, and blood, and bones, and nerves, consist of heterogeneous parts. Or, if these philosophers shall say that all food is of a mixed substance, and contains in itself small elements of nerves and bones, and also veins and par- ticles of blood, it will follow, that Y ith all solid food, and liquid itself, must be thought to consist of such heterogeneous matters, and to be mixed up of bones, and nerves, and veins, and blood. Besides, if whatever bodies grow from the earth are previous^ latent in the earth, earth must consist of all those heterogeneous matters which spring from earth. Transfer this reasoning to other objects, and you may likewise use the same phraseology : in wood, for instance, if there is

ossa et cutem est." Servius ad Virg. Mn. vii. 253. The text might be rendered, "flesh is generated from small and minute Jleshet." Evelyn took it in the sense of entrails: " That erUraHa do of little entriaU breed."

42 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 873-889.

concealed flame, and smoke, and ashes, wood must necessarilj consist of the heterogeneous particles of those substances.

Here some slight opportunity is left to this sect of philoso- phers for eluding the arguments of their adversaries; an oppor- tunity of which Anaxagoras avails himself, by alleging ihat although he thinks all things lie-secretlj mixed with all things, yet that that alone appears on the surface of each^ of which there are most particles mixed in the composition of each^ and placed more a^ it were in readiness and in iront ; which, however, is far removed from just reasoning. For, if this hypothesis were correct, it might-naturally-be-expected also that com, when it is broken by the overwhelming force of the mi//-stone,^ would exhibit some token of blood,^ or some- thing of those substances which are nourished in our bodies ; ' (that when we rub stone against stone, blood should flow ;) in like manner, also, it would be probable that herbs would send forth drops of a sweet liquid, and of similar taste, such as are the drops of milk; that isstie from the udder of the sheep. And, without doubt, we might also suppose that fre- quently, when clods of earth are broken, rudiments of the several kinds of herbs, and corn, and leaves of trees would ap- pear scattered about, and be proved to lie hid in the earth in

* Overwhelming force of the mtV^stone.] Ver. 880. Minad robore saxi. ** Minaciy poetically for terrible and formidable, and therefore great and heavy," Wakefield,

* Exhibit some token of blood.] Ver. 881. Mittere signum sanguis nis. If blood, according to Anaxagoras, comes from drops of blood, and blood is produced in our bodies by the medium of com* surely we should, says Lucretius, on crushing corn, sometimes find drops of blood in it. What follows, ** that when we rub stone against stone blood should flow," Quumlapidem in lapidem terimus manare crttoremy is a verse which Faber, Preiger, Havercamp, and Bentley concur in condemning as spurious, and which, though nreservedf and de- fended by Wakefield, even Forbiger himself, following Eichstadt,- has ventured to include in brackets. It evidently encumbers the text uselessly. "It seems to have been written m the margin," says Forbiger, " by some one who thought that the words frugea robore saxi franguntur required a more accurate explanation, and who had in his mind the passage of Plautus, Asin. i. 1, \6,nuin me illtic dnciSj ubi lapis lapidem feritf " There seems to be much plausi- bility in this conjecture. Whoever made the verse, the upper and nether mill-stone, which crush the corn between them, are plainly intended. Lachmann, to my surprise, preserves the verse.

B. I. 890—917. LUCRETIUS. 43

minute particles ; moreover that in wood, when it is broken, ashes, and smoke, and small particles of fire would be found to lie concealed. Of which occurrences, since manifest expe- rience shows that none take place, we may understand that substances are not so mixed with substances: but, if Anax- agoras were right, the common seeds of many things must lie secretly mixed, in many ways, among other things.

But, you vjill aa.jy it often happens that on the high moun- tains, the extreme tops of tall trees, when near to one another, are rubbed together, the strong south winds compelling them to act thus, until they shine with a flash of flame bursting forth. It is so. And yet the fire is not inherent in the wood, but there are in it many seeds of heat, which, when they have become confluent by friction, produce a conflagration in the woods. But if positive flame ^ were hidden in the woods, the fire could not be concealed for any length of time, but would openly consume the forests, and bum up the groves.

Do you now see, therefore, (what we remarked a little be- fore,) that it is frequently of grbat consequence with what other elements and in what position the same elements are combined, and what motions they reciprocally impart and re- ceive ? And that the same elements a little altered^ in respect to each other, produce fire from wood, ignes e lignis, just as also the words themselves consist of elements or letters a lit- tle changed, when we denote wood and fire, ligna atque ignes, by distinct appellations.

Finally, if you think that whatever things you see in the visible world, could not be conceived to have been formed without supposing the primary particles of matter to be en- dowed with a nature similar to the things formed from them, your original elements of things, by this hypothesis, become

* But if positive flame.] Ver. 903. Quod si facta flamma, " Facta Hamma is flame already formed, and collected into a vivid body, its seeds having combined; and, if this flame lay hid in the woods, it might suddenly burst forth, and destroy all surrounding objects with fire." Wakefield, So also Preiger, See Thucydides.ii. 77.

' And that the same elements a little altered, S^c.^ Ver. 910. At- gue eadenty pautb inter ee mutata create Ignes ^ Kgnis. As we denote dissimilar things by different words, lignum et ignem, (wood and fire.) by changing a little the letters of the alphabet, some being added, and some taken away." Lambinus,

44 LUCRETIUS. B. 1. 918—937.

mere absurdities, and fall to the ground} For the consequence of such a supposition will be, that t/ou must have primary particles which, as the origin of laughter, are themselves con- vulsed with tremulous fits of laughter, and others which, as the originals of weeping, bedew their own faces and cheeks with salt tears.

And now give me your attention as to what remains ; learn and hear more fully and plainly. Nor does it' escape my knowledge how obscure these matters are ; but the great hope of praise has struck my heart with her powerful thyrsus, and has at the same time infused into my breast a pleasing love of the Muses, with which inspired I now wander, in vigorous thought, over the trackless regions of the Pierides, trodden before by the foot of no poet It delights me to ap- proach the untasted fountains, and to drink ; and it transports me to pluck the fresh fiowers, and to obtain a distinguished chaplet for my head from those groves whence the Muses have hitherto veiled the temples of no one. In the first place, be- cause I give instruction concerning mighty subjects, and pro- ceed to free the mind from the closely-confining shackles of Religion ; in the next place, because I compose such lucid verses concerning so obscure a subject, touching every thing with the grace of poetry. Since such ornament also seems not unjustifiable or without reason. But as physicians, when they attempt to give bitter wormwood to children, first tinge the rim round the cup with the sweet and yellow liquid of

* Your original elements fall to the ground,"] Ver. 917.

Hac ratione tibi pereunt primordia rerum. Fiet uti risu tremulo concussa cachinnent, £t lacrymis salsis humectent ora genasque.

" If any one shall suppose that none of those things which are seen by our eyes, can be produced otherwise than from similar elements, his elements, by this very supposition, will be done away with, for they will be no longer elements, but concrete, and even animated and rational, substances. For, since men are produced from ele- ments, and since men sometimes laugh and sometimes weep, it will follow that the elements of which men themselves consist, have the faculties of laughing and weeping; which will be most absurd." Lamhinua, Some have thought that there must be verses lost between the first and second of these three lines ; and there certainly is an abruptness in the passage which greatly justifies such a supposition.

B. 1. 938—9614 LUCRETIUS. 45

honey, that the age of childhood, as yet unsuspicious,^ may find its lips deluded, and may in the mean time drink up the bitter juice of the wormwood, and, though deceived, may not be injured, but rather, recruited by such a process, may ac- quire strength: so now I, since this argument seems ge- nerally too severe and forbidding to those by whom it has not been handled, and since the multitude shrink back from it, was desirous to set forth my chain-of-reasoning to thee, O Mem- miuSy ip sweetly-speaking Pierian verse, and, as it were, to tinge it with the honey of the Muses ; if perchance, by such a method, I might detain thy attention upon my strains, until thou lookest through the whole Nature of Things, and understandest with what shape and beauty it is adorned.

But since I have taught that atoms of matter, entirely solid, pass-to-and-fro perpetually, unwasted through all time ; come now, and let us unravel whether there be any limit ^ to their aggregate, or not ; also, let us look into that which has been found to be vacancy, or the room and space in which things severally are done, and ham whether the whole is entirely limited, or extends unbounded and unfathomably profound.

All that exists, therefore, / affirm? is bounded in no di- rection ; for, if it were boundedy it must have some extremity ; but it appears that there cannot be an extremity of any thing, unless there be something beyond, which may limit it; so that there may appear to be some line farther than which ^ this faculty of our sense (t. e, our vision) cannot extend. Now,

* Age of childhood, as yet unsuspicious.] Ver. 938. Puerorum 4bUu improvida. — Find its lips deluded.] Ltidijicetur labrorum tenusy may be deceived as far as the Ups (are concerned). — Though de- ceived, may not be injured.] Deceptaque non capiattir, ** Decepti non damnum aliquod patiantur." Creech,

' Whether there be any limit, ^c] Ver. 950, seg. He now pro- ceeds to consider whether matter and space be infinite or not.

* All that exists, therefore, / afimiy 4fc.] Ver. 957. He asserts that all that exists, both matter and the space which contains it, is boimded in no direction, {nulla regione viaruniy) inasmuch as it is possible to find no extremity of it.

* So that there may appear to be some line farther than which,

4fc.] Ver. 960.

ut videatur,

Qub non longiui hmc senaiis natura sequatur,

I have followed Lambinus, who interprets thus : ut videattiTy that

46 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 962—973.

since it mast be confessed that there is nothing beyond the WHOLE, the whole has no extremity ; nor does it matter at what part of it you stand, ^ with a view to being distant from its boundary; inasmuch as, whatever place any one occupies, he leaves the whole just as much boundless in every direction.

Besides, if all space which is, be supposed to be bounded, and if any one should go forward as far as possible, even to what he thinks its extreme limits, and should throw, or attempt to throwy a flying dart,^ whether would you have that dart, hurled with vigorous strength, go on in the direction in which it may have been propelled, and fly far forwards, or do you rather prefer to think that something would have power to hinder and stop it ? For one of the two alternatives you must

there may be seen, namely, some limiting extremity, gtto longiita, i. e. ultra quod, beyond which, hac natura aensikSf this faculty of vision or sight, non sequatur, cannot extend and exert its power. Evelyn translates, in like manner,

So that one may discern the utmost space, Than which no farther it our sense can trace.

I shall not spend time upon Creech's ex quo videri possit, except so far as to observe, that he seems to have led astray the author of the old prose version, who gives this wonderful note: ** Whatever has an extreme may be seen by what is without or beyond it. Now the Universe, or the All, is not seen by any thing that is beyond it ; therefore the Universe has no extreme."

* Nor does it matter at what part of it you stand.] Ver. 964. Nee refert quibus cusistas regionibua ejus, " In quibus partibus con- sistas." Creech, Locke, showing that our idea of space is boundless, says, (Essay, book i. ch. 17, § 4,) " Wherever the mind places itself by any thought, either amongst or remote from all bodies, it can, in this uniform idea of space, no where find any bounds or ends, and so must necessarily conclude it, by the very nature and idea of each part of it, to be actually infinite.

* Throw a flying dart.] Ver. 969. Jaciatque volatile telum. If you suppose that .there is a boundary to the universe, fix on the place wnere you think it lies, and try to throw a dart beyond it ; the dart will either pass beyond it^ or will be stopped by some opposing body: if it passes beyond it, you have not fixed the boundary of the universe ; if it is stopped by any body, there is something be- yond your supposed boundary. Ultimus, ver. 969, I have rendered as far as possible. — As to Jinique locet se, ver. 977, I have taken Creech's interpretation, who explains the whole passage thus : Quo minus earn partem, in quam destinatum fuit, attingat, ibique tanqtuxm in termino se sistat " Whither it were sent, it could not tend." Evelyn,

B. I. 974—1002. LUCRETIUS. 47

of necessity admit and adopt ; of which alternatives either cuts off escape from you, and compels you to grant that the WHOLE extends without limit. Since whether there is any thing to stop the javelin^ and to cause that it may not go on in the direction in which it was aimed, and fix itself at the destined termination of its flighty or whether it is borne onwards be- yond the supposed limit, it evidently did not begin-its-llight from a boundary of the whole. In this manner I will go on with yoUy and wheresoever you shall fix the extreme margin of space, I will ask you what then would be the case with the javelin. The case will be, that a limit can no where exist ; and that room for the flight of the javelin will ^ ^7/ extend its flight.

Further, if all the space of the entire whole were shut-in and bounded on all sides by certain limits, the quantity of matter in the universe would before this time have flowed together to the bottom, by reason of its solid weight; nor could any thing be carried on beneath the canopy of heaven ; nor, indeed, would there be a heaven at all, or light of the sun ; for all matter, from sinking down for an infinite space of time, would be accumulated at the bottom of the whole. But now, it is evident, no rest is given to the atoms of the primary-elements ; because no part of the universe is com^ pletely and fundamentally lowest, whither the atoms might, as it were, flow together, and where they might flx their seat ; and therefore all things are always carried on in all parts in perpetual motion, and the lowest atoms of matter, or those which we may conceive to be the lowest, stirred up from the infinite of space, are supplied ybr the generation of things.

Moreover, in things before our eyes, object seems to bound object ; the air sets-a-boundary-to the hills, and the hills to the air ; the land limits the sea, and the sea, on the other hand, limits the entire land ; but, as to the whole, there is nothing beyond it that can bound it. The nature, therefore, of space, and the extent of the profound whole, is such a vast, which neither famous rivers,^ in their course, can run through,

' Famous rivers.] Ver. 1002. Clara flumina.—" Celebres fluvii," says Creech; and^nobiles fluvii," says the Delphin editor, who adds, renowned "for their rapidity, as the Rhone^ Danube, 4fc." Be it so. Faber advocated fulmina, thinking that it suited better with clara, and Lachmann has adopted it. Flumina, however, is more in accordance with ktbentia in tne next verse.

48 LUCRETIUS. b. i. 1003—1022.

though flowing for an eternal length of time, nor, by passing on, can at all cause that less distance should remain for them to go. To such a degree, o^ every side, vast abundance of room lies open for all things, all limit being set aside eyery where and in every direction.

Besides, Nature herself prevents the whole of things from being able to provide bounds for itself, inasmuch as she compels body to be bounded by that which is vacuum, and that which is vacuum to be bounded by body ; that so, by this alternate bounding of one by the otlier^ she may render all infinite.^ Else, moreover, if one or other of these did not bound the other by its simple nature, so that one of them, the vacuum for instance, should extend unlimited, neither the sea, nor the land, nor the bright temples of heaven,^ nor the race of mortals, nor the sacred persons of the gods, could subsist for the small space of an hour. For the body of matter, driven abroad from its union, would be borne dispersed through the mighty void, or rather, in such a case, never having been united, would never have produced any thing, since, when originally scattered, it could not have been brought together.

For certainly neither the primary elements of things dis- posed themselves severally in their own order, by their oum counsel or sagacious understanding ; nor, assuredly, did they agree among themselves what motions each should produce ;

* Render all infinite.] Ver. 1010. InfinUa omnia reddat, " Uni- versum reddat interminatum." Creech, Perhaps I should rather have translated it, may render all thinge infinite^ that is, produce an infinite variety of things by the alternate mixture of matter and vacuum.

So that with one and other She renders all things infinite together. Evelyn.

' Bright temples of heaven.] Ver. 1013. Cceli luddm templa, I have rendered it literally templet, but I should perhaps say that it means spaces, quarters, divisions, regions, the derivation generally adopted being from rsfivut, Tifiw, to cut ; temulumy temlum, templum, "as," says Mr. Valpy, ** Eximo, Exemtdum, Exemlum, Exemplum.** Ci- cero quotes cceli ccerula templa from Ennius. The augurs, when about to take omens, divided the heaven into templa, as tiie astrologers of later days divided it into houses. At the beginning of the second Book occurs templa serena, in reference to learning and wisdom, which I have rendered serene heights. And ver. 1063, I have trans- lated coeU templa, ** upper parts of heaven. "

B. I. 102a-.1049. LUCRETIUS. 49

but because, being many, and changed in many ways, they are for an infinite space of time agitated, being acted upon by forces, throughout the whole, thei/ thus, by experiencing movements and combinations of every kind, at length settle into such positions, by which means, (t. e, positions f)^ this sum of things, being produced, exists. And this sum of things, when it was once thrown into suitable motibns, being also maintained in that state through many long years, causes that the rivers recruit the greedy sea with large floods of water, and that the earth, cherished by the heat of the sun, renews its productions ; also that the race of living creatures flour- ishes undecayed,^ and that the gliding fires of heaven live. Which effects atoms could by no means produce, unless an abundant supply of matter could arise from the infinite of space, whence every thing that is produced is accustomed to repair in time the parts lost. For as the nature of animals, when deprived of food, wastes and decays, losing its substance, so must all things fall away, as soon as matter, turned by any means from its course,* has failed to supply itself.

Nor can impacts,* as some may imagine, produced externally on all sides, keep together the entire whole, or whatever of matter has been combined into a whole. For though some external impacts may strike frequently, and thus may sustain here and there a part, until others succeed, and the requisite numher of impacts for securing any particular portion may be completed ; yet at times the bodies producing the impacts are compelled to rebound, and at the same moment to give the pri- mary-atoms of things space and time for flight, so that they may be carried away free from the aggregate. It is neces- sary therefore for such compression by impact, that many atoms should again and again rise up into action from the surrounding parts ; and besides, in order that the impacts may be given

* By which means, (». e. positions),'] Ver. 1027. Qualihus h<Bc rebus consistU summa creata. " In tales disposituras, quae res efficiant ilku^ quibus haec summa creata consistat.*' Forbiger. Wakefield would join summa rebus, for summa rerum, if rebus were genuine ; but he admitted Faber's rerum into his text.

* Flourishes undecayed.] Ver. 1032. Summd—floreat. " So flour- ishes that their sum remains undiminished." Wakejleld.

* Turned from its course.] Ver. 1040. Avorsa viai. Tng bdov dtrf(TTpafifuva, Wakefield,

* Impacts.] Ver. 1041. PlagcSy "blows, strokes.'*

E

50 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 1050—1076.

in sufficient numbers, an infinite quantity of matter is requisite on every side.

And in these matters, O Memmius, be very far from be- lieving that which some say, namely, that all things tend to the centre ^ of the whole, and that therefore the nature and substance of the world stand without any percussions or pres- sures from without, and that the highest and lowest parts, as we call them, cannot be resolved, or throum back in any direc- tion, because all things strive towards the middle ; (if, indeed, you DO believe that any thing, as the earth, according to them, can rest upon itself in the middle; and that those heavy bodies which are on the lower part of the earth, all tend upwards, or to the centre, and rest upon the earth, although placed in a re- verse position to ourselves, like the shadows of things which we every day see in the water, with their lower parts uppermost) And in like manner they contend that the animals beneath us range about with their feet upwards, nor can fall back from the earth into the lower parts of heaven, more than our bodies can spontaneously fly off into the upper parts of heaven; that when they see the sun, we behold the stars of night, and that they share the times of heaven, the hours of Ught and darkness, alternately with us, and pass nights corresponding in time to our days.

But a vain delusion must have devised all these things for foolish men, mistaken in that they have embraced a wrong opinion at the commencement. For there can be no middle where vacuum and space are infinite ; nor, even if there were a middle, would any thing at all rest there more on that account, than it would stay there for any other far different reason. Since all fnere place, and space which we call empty, must, whether through the centre or through what is not the centre, yield equally a passage to equal weights, in whatsoever direc-

* And in these matters all things tend to the centre.l Ver.

1051. "It was the opinion of the Peripatetics, and of the old Academics, (of whom Plato, however, is perhaps to be except- ed,) of the Stoics, and of all who admit only one finite world, that all heavy bodies are borne towards the centre, and all light bo- dies from the centre to the extremity. But Epicurus, and others who think that there are innumerable worlds, and that the universe is infinite, allow neither extremity nor middle." Lamhinw, Comp. ver. 1069.

B. I. 1076—1096. LUCEETIUS. 5-1

tion their motions tend. Nor is there any place, at which when bodies have arrived, they can make a stand in vacuo^ having lost the force of weight ; — nor again, must that which is vacuum, give support beneath any thing, but must proceed to jdeld that passage through it which its nature requires. Things, therefore, cannot be held in combination under such a hypothesis, namdyy that they are influenced by a tendency to the centre.

This sect of philosophers are in error, moreover, inasmuch as they do not suppose that all particles tend to the centre, but only those of earth and water, as the liquid of the sea and the great floods from the mountains, and those which are contained, as it were, in earthy substances ; but set forth, on the other hand, that the, subtle air of heaven, and warm fire, are at the same time carried away from the centre, and that, from this cause, the whole sky twinkles around us with stars, and the flame of the sun is fed throughout the blue expanse of heaven, since all the heat, fleeing from the centre, collects in those parts : (for the generations of men also, they say, are fed from the earth, by food rising from the centre ; nor could the extremities of the branches of the trees produce leaves, if the earth did not gradually supply sustenance to each from the ground ;) while they add, that the heaven above covers all things round about, lest the walls of the world, being dissolved into their constituent atoms, should suddenly fly,^

» Walls of the world should suddenly fly.] Ver. 1095. So

Lucan, Phars. i. 72.

Sic cum compage solulii Ssecula tot mundi suprema coegerit hora, Antiquum repetens iterum Chaos, omnia mistis Sidera siderious concurrent : ignea pontum Astra petent: tellus extendere littora nolet, Excutietque fretum : fratri contraria Phoebe Ibit, et obli^uum bigas agitare per orbem Indienata diem poscet sibi ; totaque discors Macnina divulsi turbabit foedera mundi.

So when this knot of nature is dissolved, And the world's ages in one hour involved In their old Chaos, seas with skies shall join, . And stars with stars confounded lose their shine : The earth no longer shall extend its shore To keep the ocean out ; the moon no more

E 2

52

LUCRETIUS.

B. 1. 1097—1010.

like winged flames, through the vast void, and lest other things should follow in like manner ; lest, moreover, the regions of heaven, containing the thunder, should fall from above, and the earth should hastily withdraw itself from un- der our feet, and all human beings, dissolving their bodies into their elements, should pass away, in the midst of the mingled ruin of things cf earth taid heaven, through the deep INANE, so that, in a moment of time, no relic should exist of them, except desert space and blind atoms. ^ For wheresoever you shall suppose atoms to be first absent from their proper place, that part will be the gate of death to all things ; by that part, the whole crowd of material-elements will rush forth abroad.

These things if you shall understand, led on by my humble effort, (for one proposition will appear plain from another,) dark night will not prevent your progress, or hinder you from seeing clearly into the last depths of nature ; so effectiuilfy will truths kindle light for truths.

Follow the sun ; but, scorning her old way,

Cross him, and claim the guidance of the day.

The falling world's now jarring frame no peace,

No league shall hold. May,

* Blind atoms.] Ver. 1103. Primordia cceca. The imperceptible primary elements of all things.

BOOK II.

ARGUMENT.

Having exhorted Memmiiis to the study of philosophy, ver. 1 — 60, Lucre- tius proceeds to treat of the properties of atoms, of which the first is xnotion^ which they owe either to their own weight or the impulse of other atoms, ver. 60 — 87. Atoms are borne downwards, as being heavy, and when solid atoms come in collision, they must necessarily rebound ; some unite with others ; those that unite closely, form bodies hard and dense ; those that combine more loosely, thin and subtle substances, ver. 88 — 107. Some do not coalesce, but wander continually through space, impelling and agitating other atoms, ver. 108 — 140. The swiftness of atoms, ver. 141 — 166. He attacks those who deny the Epicurean doctrine of atoms, and refuse to admit that this unchangeable order of things is maintained without a divine providence, ver. 167 — 183. Atoms in their course down- wards decline a little from the right line, 18^221! Were they not to decline, nothing would be producedj and there could be no free agency in fttiimftlg when produced, ver. 222 — ^271. Atoms are still borne on in the same way in which they nave moved from all eternity ; nor is this assertion to be disputed because all things seem at rest, ver. 272 — 332. The second remarkable property of atoms is figure ; how greatly they differ in this is shown by the vast variety of things produced from them, ver. 332 — 425. Some atoms are rough and jagged, others smooth and round ; some produce bitter and some sweet, some hard and some soft bodies, ver. 426—476. But the figures of atoms are not infinite, though the number of each figure is infinite, ver. 477 — 580. Shovrs that com- pound bodies contain atoms of different figures, and alludes to the natuhil history of the earth, and the feibulouB history of Cybele, ver. 580 — 728. Atoms have not those qualities which we call sensible qualities, as colour, taste, heat, cold, &a, though they generate bodies having those qualities, ver. 729 — 1021. The infinite number of atoms, moving through the in- finite of space, compose infinite worlds, which are sometimes increased by atoms being added, and sometimes diminished and dissolved by the separ- ation and departure of atoms, ver. 1022 — 1149 ; just as, before our eyes, plants and animals grow up, decline, and perish, ver. 1150 — 1172.

54 LUCRETIUS. b. ii. 1—20.

It is sweet, when tlie winds ^ disturb the waters on the vast deep, to behold from the land the great distress of another ; not because it is a joyous pleasure that anyone should be-made- to-suffer, but because it is agreeable to see from what evils thou thyself art free. It is also sweet to contemplate the contending-forces of war, arrayed over the plains, without any share of thy own in the danger. But nothing is sweeter than to occupy the well-defended serene heights raised by the learning of the wise,^ from whence thou mayest look down upon others, and see them straying in all directions, wander- ing about to find the best path of life ; contending in intellec- tual power, vying with each other in nobleness of birth, and striving by excessive labour, night and day, to rise to the highest power, and to obtain the government of affairs.

O wretched minds of men ! O blind souls ! In what darkness of life, and in how great dangers, is this existence^ of whatever duration it is, passed ! May we not see that the nature of evert/ mdn demands * nothing more for itself, but that he, from whose body pain is removed and absent, may exercise his mind with a pleasurable feeling, exempt from care and fear ?

We are sensible, therefore, that very few things are neces-

* It is sweet when the winds, 4r^.] Ver. 1. " For the idea Con- tained in the first two verses," says Dr. Good^ " Lucretius seems in some measure to have been indebted to Isidorus. ' Nothing is more pleasant/ says this writer, 'than to sit at ease in the Ear- hour, and behold the shipwreck of others,' Iv Xifikvi Ko^rja^ai, Kal ret T&v aWiav (TKoiruv vavayia. Pelus. lib. ii. ep. 240." But as Lucre- tius died about five hundred years before Isidortu PeUtnota^ the obliga- tion can hardly be proved to lie on Lucretius' side. Lambinus, with more probability, suggests that Lucretius may have had in his mind these verses of Menander :

*Qc rfiii Ti^v SrdXaTTav airoOtv yrjs opav, ''Q fiTJrep, €<Trt, fii) trXkovra fiijdafi&^.

'* How sweet it is, O mother, to contemplate the sea at a distance from the land^ being altogether free from sailing on it ! "

^ Serene heights raised by the learning of the wise.] Ver. 8. EdUta doctrind sapientum templa serena. Edita, says Wakefield, is "raised up, made, produced, built on high, by the learning of philosophers."

* Nature of every man demands, ^c,"] Ver. 17. ^^ Naturam cujus- libet hominis, nisi ut iUe fruatur, tnat you may not hesitate in set- tling the construction." Bentley apud Wakefield.

B. II. 21-45. LUCEETIUS. 55

sary to the nature of the body; those thingsy namely, which are of such a kind that they may keep off p.aiD, and that they may afibrd, at the same time, many pleasures ; nor does na- ture herself ever require ^ higher gratification. If there are not, in the houses of men, golden images of youths, holding in their right hands blazing lamps, in order that light may be supplied for the nocturnal feast ; and j^ their dwelling nei- ther gleams with silver nor glitters with gold, nor harps cause the arched and gilded roofs to resound ; ^ nevertheless, when they have stretched themselves upon the soft grass, near a stream of water, under the boughs of a high tree, they socially, though with no great wealth, gratify their senses with plea- sure, especially when the weather smiles upon them, and the seasons of the year sprinkle the green grass with flowers. Nor do hot fevers sooner depart from the body, if you are tossed on woven figures and blushing purple, than if you are obliged to lie under a plebeian covering.

For which reason, since neither riches, oor nobility, nor the glory of a kingdom, are of any profit as to our body, we must further suppose that they are of no profit to the mind : ^ unless, perchance, when you see your legions* moving with energy over the surface of the plain, stirring up the images of war, or when you see your fleet sailing-with-animation, and spreading far abroad upon the water, religious-fears, alarmed at these things, flee affrighted from your mind, and the dread of death then leaves your time undisturbed ^ and free from care.

* Nor does nature herself ever require.] Ver. 23. Gratiua interdum nequB natura ipsa requirit. '* It is to be observed, what we perhaps observe first, that interdum neque is put for nunqttam.*' Faber,

* Nor harps cause the — roofs to resound.] Ver. 28. Nee cithara reboant — templa, " Citharse seems to be the nominative plural, re- boant being put for reboare faciun t. ' ' Forbiger, The passages in wnich these lines of Lucretius have been imitated by Virgil, (Georg. ii. 461,) and other poets, it would require too much space to quote.

* We must further suppose that they are of no profit to the mind. ] Ver. 39. Quod superest, animo quoque nil prodesse putandum, ^* Cre- dendum etiam non animo prodesse.'* Creech. Quod tuperest for prceterea, eiiam,

* Unless, perchance, when you see your legions, Sfc."] Ver. 4fO. Si non forte tua» legionea, &c. " Ironically. Unless, perchance, cares, and religious terrors, and dread of death, are driven from the mind by the aid of legions and troops of cavalry ; an effect which will never be produced.'* Lambinus.

* Time undisturbed.] Ver. 45. Vacuum tempus, I have translated

56 LUCRETIUS. b. ii. 45-69.

But if we see that sach suppositions and expectations are ridi- culous and mer^/y, objects of derision, and that in reality the fears and pursuing cares of men dread neither the sound of arms nor cruel weapons, and mingle boldly among kings and rulers of affairs, nor shrink before the brightness gleaming from gold, or the shining splendour of a purple garment, why do you doubt but that to produce these effects is wholly the office of reason,^ especially when all our life labours under the darkness of ignorance? For as children tremble ^ and fear every thing in thick darkness, so we, in the light, fear some- times things which are not more to be feared than those which children dread, and imagine about to happen, in the dark. This terror of the mind, therefore, it is not the rays of the sun or the bright arrows of day that must dis- pel, but the contemplation of nature, and the exercise of reason.

Attend now, therefore, and I will explain to thee by what motions ^ the generative bodies of matter produce various things, and resolve them when produced ; and by what force they are thus compelled to act, and what activity has been com- municated to them for passing through the mighty void of space. Do thou remember to give thyself wholly to my words.

For, assuredly, matter does not constantly cohere as being closely condensed in itself, since we see every object dimin- ished, and perceive that all things flow away, as it were, through length of time, and that age withdraws them from our

tempua "time," though Lambinus said^ that if it were genuine it must mean "the head," and, concluding it spurious, substituted pectus. ^ Wakefield replaced tempua, aptly adducing Ter. Heant. I. i. 38. Sine me, vacivom tempua ne quod dem mihi Laboris.

* Wholly the office of reason.] Ver. 52. Omni' ait hmc rationi' po^ testaa, ' ^ For h<Bc omnia potest ration or hsc aola poteat ratio. ' ' Preigerua.

* For as children tremble, S^c.'] Ver. 54. Nam velutipueri trepidant, &c. See on iii. 88.

* I will explain to thee by what motions, 4r<;«] Ver. 61. "This is the argument of the second book. He promises that he will Jirat explain the motions of atoms, by which things are produced and dissolved ; secondly, the cause ; and thirdly, the swiftness, of those motions." Creech. — Compelled to act, ^r^.J Ver. 63. "On account of innate motion ; for, unless this be supposed, another origin of things must be sought, and recourse must be had to the gods." Faber.

B. II. 70-92. LUCRETIUS. 57

eyes ; while, nevertheless, the sum of all seems to remain un- decayed. And this happens for this reason, that the particles of matter which depart from each object, lessen the object from which they depart, and endow with increase the object or objects to which they have transferred themselves ; and oblige the former to decay, but the latter, on the contrary, to flourish. Nor do they continue always in the place to which they have gone; and thus the sum of things is perpetually renewed, and the races of mortal men subsist by change and transference from one to the other. Some nations increase, others are di- minished, and, in a short space of time, the tribes of living creatures are changed by successive generations, and, like the racers3^eli>:jet tha torch * of life from hand to hand.

If you think that the elemental-atoms of things can remain at rest, and can, by remaining at rest, generate fresh motions of things, you stray with a wide deviation from true reason. For, since the primary-particles of all things wander through the void of space, they must necessarily be aH CBrned forwards by their own gravity, or, as it may chance, by the force of another body; for when, being often moved, they, meeting, have struck against one another, it happens that they suddenly start asunder in different directions ; since neither is it to be wondered at that bodies should do so, which are of the ut- most hardness, and of solid weight.; nor, it is to be observed, does any thing behind oppose their motion,^ And that you may the more clearly understand that all the atoms of matter are tossed about and hept in motion, remember that in the sum of the whole, or in the entire universe, there is no lowest place; nor has it any point where the primary atoms may

* Like the racers, deliver the torch, 4rc.] Ver. 78. Et quasi cunores vital lampada iradunt, " At this time [the feast of Vulcan at Athens] there was a race with torches, called *Ay(av Xafiwadovxos, in the academy ; the manner of which was thus : the antagonists were three young men, one of whom being appointed by lot to take his turn first, took a lighted torch in his hand and began his course ; he delivered it to the second^ and he in like manner to the third. The victory was his who carried the torch lighted to the race's end." Potter's Antiq. of Greece, book ii. ch. xx. See Pausan. in Att. 33, Plato de Rep. i. 1, and de Legg. vii. 18, TtvviSvTdg n kcLi Iktos^ov' rag vaiSaQy Ka^d VEp XafitrdSa rbvQiov vapadidovTaQ dWoiQ i^ aWtav,

' Nor--(does any thing behind oppose their motion,'] Ver. 87. Nee quicquam a tergo ibua obstet, ** For empty space oners no ob- struction." Faber,

58 LUCRETIUS. B. ii. 93—121.

make a stand ; since space is without bound and limit, and shows of itself^ by many indications, that it extends around in- finite in every direction. And this has been proved by indis- putable argument.^

Which immensity of space being admitted, there was evi- dently allowed no rest to the primary atoms passing through the void profound ; but rather, driven by perpetual and con- stant motion, part, when struck by other atoms, rebound to a great distance, and part also, when struck, rebounding only to short distances, are caught and intertwined, as it were, by the stroke of the particles that come in contact with them» And whatsoever particles being brought together in a more close congeries, rebound only to small distances, as being involved by their own entangling shapes, these form the strong sub- stance of rock, and the rigid consistence of iron, and a few other things of their kind, and of similar hardness. Other particles again, which wander through the vast void of space, fly, when struck, far off, and rebound away to great distances ; these supply to us the thin air and radiant light of the sun.

And many atoms besides wander through the great void, which are rejected by combinations of bodies, and have no where been able, admitted into union, to associate their motions with other atoms. Of which circumstance, as I conceive,^ an example and image is, from time to time, moving and present before our eyes. For, behold, whensoever the beams of the sun pour themselves through a chink into the dark parts of houses, you will see, in the light of the rays, many minute particles throughout the open space, mingled together in many ways, and, as it were, in perpetual conflict, exhibiting battles and fights, contending in companies, nor allowing any pause to their strife, being agitated by frequent concussions and se- parations ; so that you may conjecture, from this spectacle^ what it is for the primary-particles of things to' be perpetually

* Proved by indisputable argument.] Ver. 93. Certd et ratione probatum est See the argument from the throwing of a dart, i. 967.

* As I conceive.] Ver. 111. Uti memoro. Such appears to be the meaning which we must give to memoro in this passage. The com- mentators are silent, except Creech, who gives expUco, Good has, "if aright I deem; " and Coutures, "ce me semble." We must suppose it to be used in a middle sense, / cause myself to recollect, or / think. But some manuscripts, says Pius, have mem^abo, which we ought perhaps to adopt.

^

B. II. 120—151 LUCRETIUS. 59

tossed about in the great void. Assuredly a small thing may give an example, and traces leading to the knowledge of great things. On this account it is more fitting that you should give your attention to these motes which seem to confuse one an- other in the rays of the sun ; because such disorders signify that there secretly-exist tendencies to motion also in the principles of matter, though latent and unapparent to our senses. For you will see there, among those atoms is the sun-beam^ many, struck with imperceptible forces, change their course, and turn back, being repelled sometimes this way, and sometimes that, every where, and in all directions. And doubtless this er- rant-motion ^ in all these atoms proceeds from the primary elements of matter; for the first primordial-atoms of things are moved of themselves ; and then those bodies which are of light texture, and are, as it were, nearest to the na- ture of the primary elements, being urged by secret im- pulses of those elements^ are put into motion, and these lat- ter themselves, moreover, agitate others which are somewhat larger. Thus motion ascends from the first principles, and spreads forth by degrees, so as to be apparent to our senses, and so that those atoms are moved before us, which we can see in the light of the sun ; though it is not clearly evident by what impulses they are thus moved.

And now, O Memmius, what activity and swiftness of mo- tion^ has been given to the original atoms of matter, you may learn from what follows. In the first place, when Aurora sprinkles the earth with new light, and the various birds, flit- ting through the pathless groves, fill every part, amid the soft air, with their liquid notes ; how suddenly, at such a time, the rising sun, overspreading all things, is wont to clothe them with his rays, we observe to be visible and manifest to all. But that heat, and clear light, which the sun sends forth, do not pass through mere empty space ; on which account, it is compelled to go more slowly, because it has thus to force a passage

* And doubtless this errant-motion, ^c] Ver. 131. Scilicet hied

principOs est omnibtts error ; Prima mwentur enim per te primordia rerum,

" In this manner all other parts of matter are tossed and wander

about, the commencement of motion being derived from the primary

particles." Lambinua, Observe that omnibus is the dative case.

' What activity — of motion, §*c.] Ver. 141. "He now proceeds to prove by an argument or comparison fl mtnoW, with what activity primordial atoms are endowed." Lambinut.

v„

60 LUCRETIUS. B. II. 162—178.

through the flood of air ; nor do the particles of heat pass every one singly, but connected and combined together ; for which reason they are, at the same time, both retarded by one another, and externally obstructed, so as to be obliged to proceed less rapidly. But the primordial-atoms, which are of pure solidity,! when they pass through empty space,^ and nothing external retards them; and when^ moreover, they themselves, being one and uncompounded in all their parts, are to that one place borne onwards, by their own tendency,' to which they have begun to proceed, must be thotight, it, is evident, to excel in swiftness, and to be carried forwards much more rapidly than the light of the sun, and to run through a much greater region of space ^ in the same time as the beams of the sun traverse the heaven. For neither have they to delay, being retarded by deliberation how they shall proceed, nor have they to pursue the neighbouring atoms one after the other, that they may learn by what method every thing is to be done.

But some ignorant persons, in opposition to these opinions, think that the nature of matter cannot, without the will and providence of the gods, be ordered so suitably to human plans and conveniences, as to change the seasons of the year, and to produce the fruits of the earth, and to effect also other things in which the directress of life, divine Pleasure, prompts mor- tals, and herself leads them, to engage ; so that they may pro- pagate their kind through the allurement of gratification, lest the race of men should perish. For whose sake, when they imagine that the gods settled all things, they seem in all respects to have departed far from just reasoning. For though I were ignorant what the primary-elements of things were, yet this I could venture to assert from a contemplation of the

* Of pure solidity.] Ver. 156. Solida—simplicitate, ** Of solid sim- plicity. The same expression is used, i. 549, 575, 610.

' Pass through empty space.] Ver. 157. Per inane meant vacuum. That is, each being surrounded with vacuum ; not coming in con- tact with other atoms.

* By their own tendency.] Ver. 159. Connixa,

^ A much greater region of space.] Ver. 162. Multiplex loci apatittm. The same phrase occurs, iv. 208. Scheller, in his Lexicon, inter-

frets mtdtipleXf in this passage, " extensive, large, great." But as livv, vii. 8, uses multiplex comparatively, multiplex numenu — quim — , 1 think Creech right in explaining multiplex spatium by mtUto ma- Jus epatium.

B. II. 179—210. LUCRETIUS. 61

nature of heaven itself, and to demonstrate from manj other things, that the world was by no means made for us by divine power ; although these opinions incur reprehension among the generality of mankind. Which matters^ O Memmius, I will make clear to you hereafter ; we will now explain what remains to be said concerning the motions of atom>s.

This is now the place, as I think, in discussing these sub- jects, to make plain to you, that no corporeal substance can, of its own proper force, be borne and advance upwards ; lest the particles of flame should deceive you in this matter. For though they are produced upwards, and teke increase upwards, yet also the smiling corn, and groves, have their growth up- wards ; though all weights, as far as is in them, are borne down- wards. Nor, when fire springs up to the roofs of houses, and consumes the beams and rafters with a swift flame, is it to be thought that it does so without a compelling force ; as is the case, for example, when blood, sent forth from our body, spouts out, springing up on high, and sprinkling abroad a purple stream. Do you not see, also, with how strong a force the liquid substance of water repels beams and logs of wood? Do you not observe how, the more we have, on any occasion, urged them straight downwards, and have powerfully pressed them doion with gr^at force and with difficulty, so the more eagerly the water casts them back and sends them upwards, so that they rise up and leap forth with a larger portion of their substance?^ And yet -we do not doubt, I suppose, that these bodies, as far as is in them, are all borne downwards through empty space. Thus, accordingly, flames must also have the power to rise, when driven up, through the air of heaven, al- though their own weights, as far as is in them, strive to draw them downwards. Do you not, moreover, see that meteors in the night, flying through the height of heaven, draw long tracks of flame in whatever directions nature has given them a passage ? Do you not see shooting stars fall to the earth ? The sun, also, from the highest point of the sky, spreads abroad his heat on

^ Leap forth with a larger portion of their substance,'] Ver. 200. Plus ut parte foroB emergant exsiliantque, * * They naturally rose above the water at first with a certain portion of their bulk ; but, after being pressed down, they start up above it with a still greater por- tion.^' Wakefield.

62 LUCRETIUS. B. II. 211—238

all sides, and covers the fields with his light ? The heat of the sun, therefore, also tends downwards to the earth. And you observe likewise the lightnings fly through the oblique showers ; the fires, bursting from the clouds, rush sometimes in one way, sometimes in another ; and the body of flame falls very frequently to the earth. ^

In reference to these subjects, also, we wish you to under- stand this ; that the particles-of-matter, when they are borne downwards straight through the void of space^ do for the most part, by their own weights, at some timcy though at no fixed and determinate time^ and at some points^ though at no fixed and determinate points, turn aside ^ from the right line, but only so far as you can caH the least possible deviation.

But unless the atoms were accustomed to decline from the right liney they would all fall straight down, through the void profound, like drops of rain through the air; nor would there have ^been any contact produced, or any collision generated amon^ the primary-elements ; and thus nature would never have produced any thing.

But if, perchance, any one believes that the heavier bodies, as being borne, more swiftly, straight through the. void of space, might fall from above on the lighter ones, and thus produce concussions, which might give rise to generative movements, he deviates and departs ^r from just reasoning. For whatsoever bodies fall downwards through the water and the air, they, of necessity, must quicken their motions accord- ing to their weights, inasmuch as the dense consistence of water, and the subtle substance of the air, cannot equally re- tard every body, but jdeld sooner to the heavier bodies, being overcome by them. But, on the contrary, a pure vacuum can afford no resistance to any thing, in any place, or at any time, but must constantly allow it the free passage which its nature requires. For which reason all bodies, when put into motion,

^ Falls very frequehtly to the earth.] Ver. 215. Cadit in terrag — volgb. For volgb Creech ffives passim ; Wakefield seems to take it in the sense of non rarhj which I prefer.

2 Particles-of-matter turn aside.] Ver. 216^ seq. Had all

atoms descended through space in straight lines, like drops in a shower of rain, falling perpendicularly, there could have been no collisions, and no generative motions. Epicurus, therefore, found it necessary to make them, or some of them, deviate from the straight course.

B. II. 239-259. LUCRETIUS. 63

must be equally borne onwards, though^ot of equal weights, through the unresisting void. The heavier atoms will, there- fore, never be able to fall from above on the lighter, nor, of themselves, produce concussions which may vary the motions by which n^ure perfonns her operations,^

For which cause, it must again and again be acknowledged that atoms decline a little from the straight course, though it need not be admitted that they decline more than the least possible space ; lest we should seem to imagine oblique motions, and truth should refute that supposition. For this we see to be obvious and manifest, that heavy bodies, as far as depends on themselves, cannot, when they fall from above, advance obliquely ; a fact which you may yourself see. But who is there that can see ^ that atoms do not at all turn them- selves aside, even in the least, from the straight direction of their course ?

Further, if all motion is connected and dependent, and a new movement perpetually arises fi:om a former one in a cer- tain order, and, j^the primary-elements do not produce any commencement of motion by deviating from the straight line to break the laws of fate, so that cause may not follow cause in infinite succession, whence comes this freedom of will to all animals in the world ?^ whence, I say, is this liberty of action wrested from the fates, by means of which we go whereso- ever inclination leads each of us? whence is it that we ourselves turn aside and alter our motions, not at any filed time, nor

* But who is there that can see, S^c."] Ver. 249. Sed nihil omnino recta regione via'i decUnare, qyis est, qui poiiit cemere, sese f You must admit this declination from the straight line, says Epicurus, for who can see that there is no such declination? See Lambinus. Many other admissions Epicurus calls upon his disciples to make on si- milar grounds.

Yet that no bodies in the least are tum'd,

What searching sight hath ever yet discem'd ? Busby.

* Whence comes this freedom of will to all animals in the world?] Ver. 256. Libera per terras unde hcec animantibus extat — voluntas^ ** Whence is our liberty of action? Ask of the atoms themselves : if their motion be invariably direct, there arises from this motion a chain of fate and necessity ; if there be collision, (supposing collision to take place with perfectly direct motion,) there anses from it the same necessitv. To declension from the right line only, therefore, can liberty of action be attributable." Creech. See Cicero de Fato, and de Nat. Deor. book i.

64 ' LUCRETIUS. B. II. 260-291.

in any fixed part of space, but just as our mind has prompted us. For doubtless, in such matters, his own will gives a com- mencement of action to every man ; and hence motions are diffused through the limbs. Do you not see also, that when the barriers on the race-course are set open at a certain in- stant, yet the eager strength of the horses cannot spring for- ward so suddenly as the inclination itself desires ? For the whole mass of matter throughout the whole body, excited in all the members, must be collected,^ aind roused, simul- taneously into action, that it may second the desire of the mind in connexion with it ; so that you may see that the commencement of motion is produced from the heart, and that the tendency to act proceeds in the first place from the in- clination of the mind, and is thence spread onwards through the whole body and its members.

Nor is this similar to the case in which we go forwards, when impelled by a blow, from the great strength and violent compulsion of another person, for then it is evident that the whole matter of the entire body moves, and is hurried on- wards, against our consent, until the will, acting throughout the members, has reined it back. Do you now see, therefore, that although external force drives along many men, {that is, often drives men along,) and compels them frequently to go forwards against their will, and to be hurried away headlong, yet that there is something in our breast which can struggle against and oppose it ; according to the direction of which, also, the aggregate of matter within us is at times obliged to be guided throughout our several limbs and members, and, when driven forward, is curbed, and sinks down into rest? Wherefore you must necessarily confess that the same is the case in the seeds of matter, and that there is some other cause for motion besides strokes and weight, from which this power is innate in them, since we see that nothing can be produced from nothing. For weight forbids that all effects should be produced by strokes, and as if by external force ; but the cir- cumstance that our mind itself is not influenced merely by in- ternal necessity in performing every action, and is not, as if under subjection, compelled only to bear and suffer, this cir-

* Mass of matter must be collected.] Ver. 266. Omnia enim

totum per corptta mater ia'i Copia conquiri debeL Some manuscripts have conciri.

B. II. 292— 319. LUCRETIUS. 65

cumstance thes^ght declination of the primordial-atoms causes, though it takes place neither in any determinate part of space, nor at any determinate time.

Nor was the general body of matter ever more condensed * together, or, on the other hand, distributed in parts at greater intervals, thaii it is at present. For to that body neither does any increase ever take place, nor is any diminution made /ram it through decay. For which reason, in whatever motion the atoms of primordial seeds are now, in the same motion they were in past time, and hereafter will always be moved in a similar manner ; and whatever things have been wont to be produced, will stiU be produced under like circumstances, and will exist, and grow, and acquire strength, as far as has been granted to each by the laws of nature ; nor can any influence change the sum of things. For neither is there any part of space to which any kind of matter can fly off" from the whole, nor, again, is there any part from which any new force, hav- ing arisen therCy can burst in upon the whole, and thus change the entire order of things and alter its movements.

In these matters, it is not at all to be regarded as wonder- ful, why, when all the primordial-elements of things are in motion, yet the whole ef things seems to stand in perfect rest, except whatever individual thing exhibits motion in its own body.^ For the entire nature of original-principles lies far removed from our senses, and beneath them; for which cause, when you cannot see the thing itself, its motions must also hide themselves from your eyes; especially when even many things that we can see, nevertheless often conceal their motions from us, as being separated from us by a great dis- tance. For frequently, upon a hill, we may observe a flock of woolly sheep spread about, cropping the rich pasture, where- soever the grass, gemmed with fresh dew, calls and invites

-* Nor was the ffeneral hody of matter ever more condensed, §*c.] Ver. 294. Nee ttipata magisfuit unquam, Ijfc, ** That the primary par- ticles cannot be changed, he has already shown ; he now asserts that matter, considered generally, was never distributed at less or greater intervals than at present ; for not an atom perishes to cause a hiatus in matter, and no new atom is generatea to increase the density of matter.'* Creech,

' Except whatever indimdual thing exhibits motion in its own body.] Vftr. 311. PrteterqiMin si quid proprio dot corpore mottta. "As the air, the water, the heaven, the stars, &c." Faber.

^ LUCRETIUS. B. IL 320—344.

each ; wliile the full-fed lambs sport and frisk about with de- light : all which objects, from a distance, appear to us con- fused, and only a whiteness, as it were, seems to rest upon the green hill. Also, when vast legions fill all the parts of a plain, stirring up the image of war, the gl^am of arms then raises itself to the sky, and all the land around glitters with brass, while a sound is excited by the force, beneath the feet of the men, and the neighbouring hills, struck with the noise, re-echo the shouts of the troops to the stars of heaven ; and the cavalry, at the same time, swiftly- wheel about, and suddenly charge across the plains in the centre, shaking them with their violent onset ; aU these jare distinct objects, and yet there is a certain spot on the high hills, whence, if you hoh down, they seem to rest on the ground as one body, and only a con- tinuous brightness to settle over the field.

Attend now, 0 Memmius,^ and learn, in the next place, of what nature the primordial-elements of things' are, and how very different they are in their forms ; how they are varied by manifold shapes. Not that a few only are endowed with like ^otm, for those alihe areinnumerable,hut because, through- out the whole,^ all are not similar to all, but are varied with great differences. Nor is this wonderful ; for since the abund- ance of them is such, that, as I have shown, there is neither any limit nor sum of them, they must not, and cannot, assured- ly, be all universally endowed with a like figure and like shape to all others.^

Besides, consider the human race, and the mute swarms of fishes swimming in the sea, and the abundant herds of cattle and wild beasts, and the various birds, which frequent the

* Attend now, O Memmitu, §•«.] Ver. 333. " He first shows that atoms differ in shape ; next, that their differences of shape are finite ; and then that atoms of each shape are infinite." Lambiniu.

» Throughout the whole.] Ver. 337. Volgb.

' Like figure and like shape to all others,] Ver. 341.

Debent nimirum non omnibus omnia prorsiun Esse pari filo, similique affectu figur&.

Lamhinus interprets^ bv texturd,a,nd Scheller, in his Lexicon, citing this passage, makes it "kindf nature,'* But as Lucretius is here speaking merely of the forma of atoms, it is evidently to be rendered outline or figure y as in v. 673 :

Forma quoque hinc solis debet filumque videri.

See also v. 687, atque alibi.

B. II. 346—375. LUCRETIUS. 67

pleasant places about the waters, upon the banks of rivers, fountains, and lakes, and which, flitting through the trees, traverse the pathless groves ; of which select any one you please, in the several kinds, for contemplation, and you will still find that they differ from one another in their forms. Nor, indeed, could the progeny, by any other means, know its mother, or the mother her progeny ; whereas we see that in- ferior animals, not less than men, are known to each other. For, on many occasions, a calf, sacrificed at the frankin- cense-burning altars, falls before the beauteous temples of the gods, pouring forth a warm stream of blood from its breast ; but the mother, meanwhile, deprived of her young, wandering through the green forests, leaves traces imprinted on the ground with her cloven feet, surveying all places with her eyes, if any where she may discern her lost offspring, and then, standing still, fills the leafy grove with her complaints ; she also frequently goes back to look at the stall, penetrated with regret for her calf ; nor are the tender willows, or the grass fresh with dew, or any streams, gliding level with the top of their banks, able to soothe her feelings, and drive away her sudden affliction ; nor can any other forms of calves, over the fertile pastures, divert her attention or lighten her of her care ; so perseveringly does she require some shape that is familiar and known to her. Moreover, the tender kids, with their tremulous voices, know, as they plainly indicate, their homed dams, and sheep distinguish the bleating of the butting lamb ; and thus, as nature requires, each hastens invariably to its own milky udder. ^

Lastly, contemplate any sorts of com,^ and still you will not find the whole of each in its own kind, or all the grains of each, to have such a mutual resemblance, but that some difference will run between their fbrms. And in like manner we see the various sorts of shells paint the lap of the earth, where the sea,

* Each hastens invariably, S^c.'\ Ver. 370. Ad sua quisgue fere de- currunt ubera kutis. For ** fere," generally, or, as I have rendered it, invariably y Wakefield reads " feri," beasts,

* Lastly, contemplate any sorts of com, S^c,"] Ver. 371.

Postremb quodvis frumentum, non tamen omne, Quidque suo genere, inter se simile esse videbis.

" With quodvis frumentttm understand sumere perge from ¥er. 347." Creech.

p 2

68 LUCRETIUS. B. II. 376-404.

with gentle waves, strews the hihiiloiis sand on the winding shore.^ Again and again, therefore, / repeat^ the primordial atoms of things, since they exist in ikeir own nature, and are not fashioned to a certain shape hy the hand of one artificer, most likewise circulate thrtm^h the universe in certain shapes dissimilar one from another.

It is very easy for ns, then, by the clear guidance of rea- son, to explain why the flame of lightning passes through the air with much more penetration than our ^re^ which arises from fuel of the earth. For you may jusdy argue that the celestial fire of lightning, as being more subtle, consists of smaller atoms, and therefore flies through diminutive passages, which this fire of ours, taking its rise from wood, and pro- duced by torches, cannot enter.

Besides, light passes through horn, but water is repelled by it. Why? unless that the atoms of light are less than those of which the genial liquid of water consists.

Wine, also, we olServe to flow as quickly as possible through a strainer, but thick oil, on the contrary, moves through it slowly ; because, as it appears, the latter either consists of larger atoms, or of such as are more hooked and involved with one another. And thus it happens, that the individual atoms, not being so quickly detached from their coherence with each other, cannot so easily pass tlu-ough the individual pores of any body.

To this is added, that the liquids of honey and milk are moved about in the mouth with a pleasant sensation to the tongue ; but, on the contrary, the bitter substance of worm- wood, and acrid centaury,* torment the palate with a disa- greeable taste ; so that you may easily infer that those things which can affect the senses with pleasure, consist of smooth and round particles ; but that, on the other hand, whatever things seem bitter and rough, are held united together of par-

* Strews the bibulous sand, ^cJ] Ver. 376. Litoria incurvi bibtUam pavit aqttor arenam, " Parity that is, atemity from the Greek iratcu, with Aigamma inserted." Wakefield.

^ Acrid centaury.] Ver. 400. Feri Centauri. Creech considers ferusy in this passage, to have much the same meaning as teter^ (which is immediately before applied to wonmooody) or tristiSy (which is applied to centaury y iv. 124,) and ridicules Fayus for thinking that it meant *' agrestis," wi^f^. "The whole plant is of an exceeding bitter taste.' CiUpeper^s Eng. Physician.

B. II. 405—436. LUCRETIUS. 69

tides more hooked ; and that, on this account, they are ac- customed, as it were, to tear a waj to our feelings, and to wound the skin of our body at their entrance.

Furthermore, all things which are pleasing to the senses, and all which are to the touch unpleasant, are opposed to each other, being formed of atoms of a different shape ; that you may not, perchance, imagine that the sharp stridor of the creaking saw consists of elements equally smooth with the melodious notes of music, which musicians form upon the strings, awaked, as it were, by their swiftly-moving fingers ; and that you may not suppose that atoms of like form pene- trate the nostrils of men, when they bum offensively-smelling carcasses, and when the stage is freshly sprinkled with Cilician saffron,^ and the altar, near at hand, exhales Panchsean odours. Nor conceive that pleasing colours, which can feast the eye fvith delight, and those which are, as it were, pungent to the sight, and compel us to shed tears, or which seem ugly and hideous with a repulsive look, consist of like seminal-atoms. For every object, whatever it be, that soothes the sense ot the beholders, is not produced without some smoothness in its elements, but, on the contrary, whatever is of a disagreeable and rough consistence, has not been formed without something offensive in its material-principles.

There are some atoms, also, which are neither justly thought to be smooth, nor altogether hooked with bent points, but rather to be furnished with small angles slightly jutting out, and which have the power rather to titillate the sense than to wound it ; of which kind of atoms consist pickle^ and the taste of elecampane.

Moreover that warm fire and cold frost penetrate the feel- ings of the body differently, as being composed of atoms pointed in different ways, the touch of each is a sufficient indication. For the touch, the touch, (O sacred deities of heaven ! ) is a sense of the body ; and is affected either when something external insinuates itself through the pores, or when something which is generated in the body, hurts or

* Sprinkled with Cilician saffron.] Ver. 416. Croco Cilici pefrfwa. "Theatres were sprinkled with safiron mixed with wine, as Pliny relates.** Pretgenu, Croc^m floresqite perambtUet Attts Fabtda, Hor. Ep. ii. 1, 70.

■ Pickle.] Ver. 430. Fueeula, " On fmcula and garum, read the commentators on Hor. Sat. ii. 8, 7. Faber,

'70 LUCRETIUS. B. II. 437—469.

delights it in issuing forth, as in the genial exercises of Venus ; or when the seeds, from striking against each others raise a tumult in the body itself, and, by mutual agitation, confound the sense ; as if, for example, you yourself should strike any part of your own body, and make trial of this sensation. For which reason forms of substance, which can excite various feelings, must necessarily be' far different in their elementary-principles.

Further, those bodies that seem to us hard and dense, must necessarily consist of particles more locked with one another, and be held closely compacted,^ as it were, by branching atoms. Among which land of bodies^ adamantine rocks, naturally- adapted to despise blows, stand pre-eminently in the first rank : as well as stout flints, and the strength of hard iron, and brazen hinges, which, as they support the weight of their gates, make a loud grating sound.^

Those bodies, indeed, which are liquid and of a fluid sub- stance, must consist, more than harder bodies, of smooth and round atoms; (for a draught of poppy-juice® is even as yield- ing, and as much of a liquid, as a draught of water ;) since their several collections-of-particles are not held together rigidly among themselves, and their progress along a descent is voluble and easy.

All things, moreover, which you see scatter themselves in a short space of time, as smoke, clouds, and flames, must neces- sarily, if they do not wholly consist of smooth and round par- ticles, yet not be bound together with complex ones ; so that,

* Compacted.] Ver. 446. Compacta, " Compacted " is not a word in general use, but is foimd in Hooker, and quoted by Johnson.

' Brazen hinge$, which — make a loud ^ohn^ sound.] Ver. 450. JEraque^ qwB clattstria restantia voeiferantur, daustra here means gates or doors, ** Restantia quasi sustinerUia.y Faber. " ^ra^ brass, that is, hinges of brass, which creak with the weight of the gates." Creech,

• For a draught of poppy juice, ^c] Ver. 453. Namqite papaveris hattstus item est facilis quod aquarwn, Lambinus thought this verse spurious, and ejected it ; nor did any editor offer to restore it till Wakefield. Lachmann retains it, but alters quod into quasi, Lucre- tius, if it be genuine, meant to say in it that one bod^ which is fairly fluid is as much a fluid as any other that is fairly fluid. Good, who professes to adhere to Wakefield's text, passes the verse in silence^

—<jlomeramina, in the next line, is eviaently coUections of particles^ as Lambinus understood it ; not round particles, as Creech will have it.

B. II. 460—479. LUCRETIUS. 7 1

being as they are^ they may have a pungent effect upon the body,^ and penetrate rocks, but cannot cohere together; a power which we all see to be granted to thorns. You may easily understand, therefore, that they do not consist of hooked and complicated, but of acute atoms. '

But that you should observe the same bodies, which are fluid, to be bitter, as is the liquid of the sea, is by no means to be wondered at by any one. For that which is fluid, cour sists of smooth and round particles; and with these smooth and round particles are mixed pungent particles causing pain. Nor yet is it necessary that these atoms should hold , themselves together by being hooked ; for you may be certain that though the particles are rough, they are yet globose, so that they may flow among those of the fluid, though st the same time they may hurt the sense. And that you may the more cer- tainly believe that rough are mixed with smooth particles, of both of which, for instance, the mass of the waters of the ocean consists, there is, I may mention, a method of separating them and considering them apart. The same water of the sea, for example, becomes sweet,^ when it is often Altered through the earth, so that it may flow, as you may sometimes see, into a trench, and thus lose its saltness. For it leaves above, or near the surface of the earth, the particles of bitter salt, which are rough and jagged; so that they more easily inhere in the earth.

Which point since I have now demonstrated, I shall proceed to join tvith it another proposition, which, depending on this,

* May have a pungent effect upon the body.] Ver. 460. Pun- gereuH possint corpus. " As they are easily dissipated, they do not consist of atoms that link together, hut as they can stimulate the senses, (as mist and smoke affect the eyes,) and can penetrate hard bodies, (as fire enters iron and stone,) they cannot consist wholly of atoms that are smooth and round." Creech,

• The same water of the sea — becomes sweet, is^J] Ver. 474. On this passage Good happily refers to Thomson's Autumn, ver. 741.

Some sages say, that where the numerous wave For ever lashes the resounding shore, Drill'd through the sandy stratum, every way, The waters with the saivdy stratum rise ; Amid whose angles infinitely strained. They jojrful leave their ,^5^ ^^"^ benind, And clear and sweeten as they soak along.

72 LUCRETIUS. b. ii. 480—604.

derives its credit from it ; that the primary-atoms of things vary in figure, but only with a limited number of shapes.^ If this were not so, softi^ seminal-principles would, moreover, necessa- rily be of an immense bulk of body. For this is evident^ be- cause within the same individual minute-frame of any one seminal-principle, the figures or arrangements of its parts cannot vary much among themselves. Since, suppose that the primary-principles consist q/* a certain definite number of very small parts ; say three, or increase them, if you please, by a few more ; assuredly when, after arranging all those parts, and altering the place of the highest and lowest parts of that one body, and changing the right for the left, you shall have tried in every way what representation of forms each arrange- ment of the whole of that body offers, if perchance you shall wish still further to vary its forms, you will have to add other parts ; and from thence will follow, in like manner, that a ddrd arrangement will require still more, if you shall wish by a third arrangement s^jML to vary its forms. An increase of bulk, therefore, follows upon the variation of shapes; for which reason you cannot believe that seminal-principles differ from one anodier by an infinite variety of shapes ; lest, by such a supposition, you should make some to be of immense bulk ; which I have idready shown that it is not possible to prove.

And if such were the case, if the figures of atoms were in-- finite, barbaric garments, and shining Melibcean purple,^ tinged with the dye of shell-fish from Thessaly, as well as the golden brood of peacocks, painted with smiling beauty, would-lose- their-estimation in your eyes, being thrown-into-the-shade by the new beauty of fresh objects ; the perfume of myrrh and the taste of honey would be despised ; and the melodies of

* That the primary-atoms of things vary in figure, hut only with a limited number of shapes.] Ver. 480. Primordia rerum FinU& variare jigurarum ratione. Ei)icuru8 taught, that the shapes of atoms could not be infinite, as it is impossible to ima^ne an infinity of figures in a finite body. Plutarch de PUicit, Phil. i. 3.

* Barbaric garments, and shining Meliboean purple, «rc.] Ver. 301. ^ " If the shapes of atoms varied to infinity, there could be no certain and determinate extreme qualities of things in nature ; for, by new configurations, objects might be so altered, that something better than wnatever was best, and worse than whatever was worst, might still arise into being. Creech.

B. II. 606—628. LUqRETIUS. 73

swans, and the tnnes of Phoebus, varied on the chords of the lyre^ would, in like manner, be silenced, as being outdone by something new; for, in every class of things, some new thing might arise more excellent than others which are now thought the best.

Or all things might also fall back into a worse state, as we have said that they might possibly rise to a better. For, in a retrograde order, one thing might arise, time after time, more disagreeable than others preceding it, to the nostrils, ears, imd eyes, and taste of the palate.

Since this, however, is not so, but a certain limit set to things in both directions, as to what is bad and what is good, confines the whole, you must of necessity admit that the particles of matter also vary from one another only by shapes that are finite in number.

Lastly, a distance, so to speah, has been defined from the heat of summer^ to the freezing cold of winter, and has been measured back from cold to heat in like manner. For the whole year is, or consists of, heat and cold ;^ and the moderate warmths <f spring and autumn lie between both the other two seasons, filling up the whole in succession. The seasoTis of spring and autumn, therefore, as made and appointed, are kept-distinct by a limited portion to each; since they are marked on each side by two points, and shut in on the one hand by heats, and on the other side by rigid frosts.

Since I have now proved this, I shall proceed to join with it another observation, which, depending on this, derives its credit from it; that the primordifd-atoms of things, which are formed of a like figure one to the other, are infinite in number ; for since the diversity of their forms is finite, it ne- cessarily follows that those which are alike are infinite ; or it would appear that the sum of matter must be finite ; which I have proved to be impossible.

* Lastly, o distance — has been defined from the heat of summer, Jrc.] Ver. 615. He introduces this observation to show that things in nature are limited ; that there are extreme bounds beyond which it is not possible to |)ass, but within which there are many interme- diate degrees of variation.

• For the whole year is — heat and cold.] Ver. 517. Omnis enini ealor ae frigus, Wakefield understands annus, ** tamque ridiculum interpretem." says Lachmann, " nostrates venerabundi sequuntur." Lachmann nimself reads, from conjecture. Ambit enim, &c.

74 LUCRETIUS. B. II. 529-562.

Since I have shown this, I will now (give me your atten- tion) demonstrate in a few sweetly-sounding verses, that the atoms of matter support the whole op things, from all eter- nity,* by a succession 2 of movements on every side.

For though you see in any particular re^n certain ani- mals to be more rare than others, and observe Nature, in those less rare, to be more productive,^ yet in another region and dis- trict, and in distant lands, it is possible that there may be many animals of that kind, and that the deficiency of their numbers in one place may be compensated in another; just as we see, in the race of quadrupeds, to be especially the case with the snake-handed elephants, with many thousands of which India is defended as with an ivory rampart, so that it cannot be at all penetrated; so great is the multitude of those beasts in that country, 62/^ of which we see very few specimens among us.

But yet, that I may, if you wish, grant this also,^ let there be, in your imagination, any single creature you please, existing alone with its own natural body, and to which there may be no creature similar in the wholi round of the earth ; yet, un- less the quantity of the seeds of matter, from which that crea- ture may be formed and generated, shall be infinite in number, it will neither be possible for it to be produced, nor moreover, if it could be produced, to grow up and be nourished.

For let your eyes conceive (i. e. imagine that you see) the generative atoms of any single thing, being limited in num- ber, tossed about through the whole of space ; whence, / ask, where, by what force, and by what means, will they, meeting together, unite, amid so vast an ocean of matter, and so mighty a confusion of dissimilar particles f They have, as I think,

* From all eternity.] Ver. 531. Ex it\finito. " Abaeterno." Creech. " Ab seterno tempore.'* Lambiniu.

' Succession.] Ver. 532. Protelo, See iv. 191.

* And observe Nature, in those leas rare, to be moreproductive.] Ver. 534. Fecundamque magia naturam cemia in oUia. Tnis is Wake- field's reading, and Forbiger's interpretation, if interpretation it can be called ; for in truth the magia makes the passage sheer nonsense. Lambinus, and all other editors, except Wakefield, Forbiger, and Eichstadt, read Fecundamque minus, which Lachmann has rein- stated.

* But yet, that I may — grant this also.] Ver. 542. Sed tamen, id quoque uti concedam. Thia, namely, which follows. Another argu- ment to prove the infinity of material atoms, and " a more ingeni- ous one,' says Faber, ** than it may at first appear."

B. II. 562-581. LUCRETIUS. 75

no method of combiniDg themselves. But, as when great and numerous shipwrecks have arisen, the vast sea is wont to scat- ter abroad floating benches, hollow fragments ^ of vessels, sail- yards, prows, masts, and oars ; so that the ornaments of stems* may be seen swimming on all the coasts of the earth, and may give admonition to mortals, to resolve to avoid the treachery, and violence, and deceit of the faithless sea ; nor, on any oc- casion, to be too credulous, when the insidious flattery of the calm deep smiles ; so if you, in this case, shall once settle for yourself that certain primordial atoms are finite in number, you must* then allow that the different agitations of matter will necessarily toss them about, scattered, as they mil be, for ever ; so that they can at no time, being driven together, unite in combination, or, if they should unite, remain in combination, or swell with increase ; both of which effects manifest proof shows to occur before our eyes, namely, that things are produced, and that, when produced, they have the power to increase. It is therefore evident, that, in every class of beings, the primordial- elements of things, from which all are supplied, are infinite in number.

Nor, therefore, inasmuch as original-elements are infinite, can the movements of things, which are destructive to vital existence, always prevail, or bury its safety for ever ; though neither, on the other hand, can motions productive of gener- ation and increase, always preserve things which have been formed. Thus a war of principles, grown up from the infi- nite space of the past, is carried on with equal strife ; the vital principles of things prevail sometimes in one place, sometimes in another, and are prevailed over in their turn. The wail which infants raise, when they come forth to view the regions of light, is mixed with funeral lamentations ; nor has any night followed a day, or any moming followed a night, which has not heard groans, the attendants of death and gloomy obsequies, mixed with the weak cries of infants coming into the world.

* Hollow fragments.] Ver. 554. Cavemas. "This word it is easy to miderstand of any fragment of the interior of a ship." Wakefield. Other editors read gvbema.

• Ornaments of stems.] Ver. 556. Apluatra, " In Greek ii(f>\a<rTa. They were ornaments, not on the prow, but on the stern ; fot the ornaments on the prow were called dicpo<rr6\ca." Faber,

76 LUCRETIUS. B. 11. 582—619.

In considering these points, it is proper for jou, also, to have it inipressed, as with a seal, upon your mind, and to keep it faithftdly intrusted to your memory, that there is nothing, among all objects of which the nature is apparent before us, which consists only of one kind of elements ; nor any thing, which does not consist of mixed seminal-principles. And whatever possesses in itself more numerous powers and ener- gies than other things, thus demonstrates that it contains more numerous kinds of primary-particles and various configura- tions of them.

In the first place, the earth has in itself primary at<$mi^ from which springs, rolling forth cool waters, incessantly recruit the immense sea ; it has also in itself atoms from which fires arise. For in many places, the soil of the earth, when set on fire, bums ; and the violence of ^tna rages with mighty flames. Moreover, the earth contains atoms from which it can raise up rich com and cheerful groves for the tribes of men ; and from which also it can afford waving leaves and abundant pasturage for the brood of wild beasts ranging over the mountains. For which reasons the earth alone is caUed the great mother of the gods, and mother of beasts, and parent of the human race.

The old and learned poets of the Gieeks sung that she, in her seat on her chariot, drives two lions yoked together ; sig- nifjring that the vast earth hangs in the open space of the air, and that one earth cannot stand upon another earth. They added the lions, because any offspring, however wild, ought to be softened, when influenced by the good offices of parents. And they surrounded the top of her head with a mural crown, because the earth, fortified in lofty places, sustains cities ; dis- tinguished with which decoration the image of the divine mother is borne, spreading terror, through the wide world. Her various nations, according to the ancient practice of their worship, call the Idsean mother, and assign her bands of Phrygians as attendants, because they say that from those parts com first began to be produced, and thence was diffused over the globe of the earth. They assign to her also the Galli ; because they wish to intimate that those, who have violated the sacred-respect dtie to their mother, and have been found ungrateful to their fathers, are to be thought unworthy to bring living offspring into the realms of light. Distended drums, and hollow cymbals, resound in their hands around the

B. II. 620-660. LUCRETIUS. 77

goddess ; and their horns threaten with a hoarse noise, while the hollow pipe excites their minds with Phrygian notes. And they carry weapons outstretched before them, as signs of violent rage, which may alarm with terror the undutifal minds and impious hearts of the crowd, struck with the power of the goddess.

As soon, therefore, as, riding through great cities, she, being dumb, bestows a silent blessing on mortals, they strew the whole course of the road with brass and silver, enriching her with munificent contributions ; while they diffuse a shower of voses, overshadowing the mother and her troop of attend- ants. Here the armed band, whom the Greeks call by the namie of Phrygian Curetes, dance round vigorously with ropes, ^ and leap about to their tune, streaming with blood. Shaking the terrible crests on their heads as they nod, they represent the Dictaean Curetes, who are formerly said, in Crete, to have concealed that famous infant-cry of Jup^er, when the armed youths, in a swift dance around the child, struck, in tune, their brazen shields with their brazen spears, lest Saturn, having got possession of him, should devour him, and cause an eternal wound in the heart of his mother. Either for this reason, therefore^ armed men accompany the great mother ; or else because the priests thus signify that the goddess ad- monishes men to be willing to defend the land of their country with arms and valour, and to prepare themselves to be a pro- tection and honour to their parents.

TYi<^e'pageants^ though celebrated as being fitly and excel- lently contrived, are yet far removed from sound reason. For the whole race of the gods must necessarily, of itself, enjoy its immortal existence in the most profound tranquillity, far removed and separated from our affairs; since, being free from all pain, exempt from all dangers, powerful itself in its own resources, and wanting nothing of us, it is neither propitiated

» Dance round vigorously with ropes.] Ver. 631. Inter se forti catenas Lttdunt, That a rope was used in dancing both by Greeks and Romans is known from Aristoph. Nub. 540 ; Ter. Adelph. iv. 7, 34; Liv. xxvii. 37, and other authorities. But catenas, in this pas- sage, is merely from a conjecture of Turnebus, which Lambinus adopted. Wakefield read sorte catervisy which even Forbiger did not venture to retain. Lachmann reads fort^ quod armis.^Forti is for fortiter.

78 LUCEETIUS. B. II. 651-681.

by services from the good^ nor affected with anger against the bad.

The earth, indeed, is at all times void of sense, but, because it contains the primary elements of many things, it brings forth many productions, in many ways, into the light of the sun. K any one, then, shall resolve to call the sea Neptune, and com Ceres, and chooses rather to abuse the name of Bac- chus, than to utter the proper appellation of wine ; let us concede that such a one may pronounce the orb of the earth to be the mother of the gods, provided that it still be allowed to remain its real self.

Bv^ to return, then, to the infinite variety of atoms, the woolly sheep, ^ we often see, cropping the grass from the same plain, and the warlike brood of horses, and the horned herds, living under the same part of the canopy of heaven, and quenching their thirst from the same stream of water, grow up of dissimilar species, retaining the parent nature; and aU follow habits according to their kinds ; so various is the nature of the matter in each kind of herb ; 'So great is ike variety of particles in each river. Hence, moreover, though the ^BjnQ parts, bones, blood, veins, heat, moisture, viscera, and nerves, make up any one you please of all animals, still these, being very different in themselves, are formed of pri- maiy-particles of an enHrely different figure.

Further, whatever bodies, being set on fire, burn, show that there are cherished in their mass, if nothing else, those various seminal-atoms, from which they are enabled to throw forth fire and cast up light, and also to put sparks in motion, and scatter abroad embers.

Surveying other things with like reasoning, you will ac- cordingly find that they conceal in their consistence the seeds of many things, and contain various conformations of atoms.

Again, you observe many objects to which both colour and taste have been assigned, together with smell ; especially most of the gifts which you offer to the gods, when you feel your mind affected, in a debasing manner,^ with religion. These

» But to return, — the woolly sheep, ^c] Ver. 660. Since different sorts of animals feed on the same herbs, and drink the same water, the herbs and water, which nourish every kind equally, must con- tain various sorts of seminal principles.

' In a debasing manner.] Ver. 681. Turpi pacto. This is Wake-

B. II. 682—707. LUCEBTIUS. 79

things must therefore consist of various conformations of atoms ; for scent penetrates where juices which excite the taste do not make a way to the corporeal organs ; also juices bj their particular method, and flavour bj its particular method, win their way to -the senses ; so that you may know that they arise from different conformations of atoms. Dis- similar forms of particles, therefore, combine in one mass, and things consist of mixed seminal-principles.

Besides, even in my own verses ^ you see every where many elements common to many words ; though you must neverthe- less necessarily acknowledge that the verses and words con- sist part of some elements and part of others, differing among themselves ; not because onfy a few common letters run througJi the words, or because no two words, out pf all, are alike in having SLuy letter in common ;^ but because, taking the words throughout, all the letters are not common to all. So likewise ' in other matters, many common elements, as they are the pri- mary-principles of many things, may yet exist in dissimilar combinations among themselves ; so that the human race, and the fruits of the earth, and the rich groves, may justly be considered to consist each of distinct original-particles.

Nor yet is it to be thought that all particles can be com- bined in all ways ; for, if this were the case, you would every where see monsters arise ; i/ou would behold shapes produced half-man half-beast, and sometimes tall boughs of trees grow out of an animated body ; t/ou would observe many members of terrestrial animals united to those o/* marine animals, and nature breeding, throughout the all-producing earth, Chimse- ras breathing flame from horrid mouths. Of which irregu-

field's reading; other editions have j^ar^o. Wakefield also conjec- tures yacto.

* Besides, even in my own verses, 4f<^.] Ver. 688- He uses the same illustration, i. 823.

' Or because no two words, out of all, are alike in having any letter in common.] Ver. 693. Aid nulld inter ae duo tint ex omnibus eadem. This is Forbiger's verse, which he calh paulo impeditiorem, and thus illustrates, ** Non qu6 duo (verba) ex omnibus null& (liter^) inter se eadem sint : i. e. non quasi litera non in duobus verbis di- versis occurrere possit." Lamoinus reads, aut nulla (verba sc.) inter se duo sint ex omnibus isdem (Uteris «c.). Wakefield for Udem substituted eidem, versui sc. And Lachmann gives, Aut nulU (versus sc,) inter se duo sint ex omnibus idem. Any one of these is better than Forbiger's monster.

80 LUCEBTIUS. B. It 708—734.

lariiies it is evident that none occur^ since we see that all things, being .produced fnun certain seeds, bj an unerring generative mUure, can, as they grow up, preserve their kind pure and unmixed.

And it is plain that this must necessarily be the case ac- cording to strict method and laws. For, from the several sorts of food thai are eaten, the particles, suitable to each animal, pass internally into its limbs and other parts, and, being there combined, produce motions fitted to that animal. But, on the other hand, we see that nature throws back upon the earth those particles which are unsuitable to the animal; and many, existing in imperceptible substances, escape out of the body, being wrought upon by the impulses and agitations of other particles ; which effluent particles could neither be combined in any part, nor consent, and be animated, to par- ticipate in the vital movements.

But lest you should think that animals only are bound by these laws, a certain order and regularity, let me observe, keeps all things distinct. For as, throughout the whole of nature, things dissimilar from one another are individually produced, so it is necessary that each should consist of a differ- ent form of elements. Not that only a few elements are endowed with like forms, but because all, throughout all bodies, are not similar to alL

Since, moreover, seminal-particles differ, their intervals, passages, connexions, weights, impulses, collisions, motions, must necessarily differ ; variations which not only keep dis- tinct the bodies of animals, but give peculiarity to the land and the whole sea, and cause the heaven to differ in nature from the earth.

And now attendywr^Aer,* and receive into your mind my pre- cepts which I, with pleasing toil, have collected together. Do not, by any chance, imagine that those things which you see be- fore your eyes of a white colour consist, because they are white, of white elemental-atoms ; or that those which are black, are produced from black seminal-particles ; nor suppose that any objects, which are tinged with any other colour whatsoever,

* And now attend ^rtAer, ^.] Ver. 729. " He now proceeds to show that the primary-atoms are void of colour, and indeed c^ all qualities, except shape, size, and weight." iMrnJbimu, This is in conformity with the doctrine of Epicurus, as g^ven in the Epistle to Herodotus, in Diog. Laert book x.

B. II. 736-768. LUCRETIUS. 81

wear that colour because their material elements are tinctured with a hue similar to it. For there is no colour at all in the ele- mentary-atoms of matter, either similar to that of the bodies in which they exist, or dissimilar. Into the nature o^ which ele- mentary atoms, if you think that the mind cannot penetrate, so as to form an idea of them, because they are without colour, you wander far tiWSLyfrom the truth. Since, when those who have been bom blind, and who have never seen the light of the sun, yet distinguish substances by the touch, which to them have seemed unmarked by colours from their earliest youth, we may understand also that substances actually un- tinctured with colour, may be brought under the comprehen- sion of our intellect. Moreover whatever objects we ourselves touch in thick darkness, we do not perceive to be tinged with any colour at all.

Since I prove it to be possible that atoms may be colourless, I will now show that it certainly is so. For every colour is, or may be, changed into all colours whatsoever; but this is a transmutation which primordial elements must by no means undergo ; since it is necessary that there should remain some- thing unchangeable, lest all things should be reduced utterly to nothing. For whatsoever being changed,* goes beyond its own limits, this change forthwith becomes the death or termin* ation of that which it was before. Be cautious, therefore, not to tinge the seeds of things with colours, lest all things for your gratification^ should be reduced to nothing.

Besides, if no kind of colour has been assigned to primary- particles, and if they are endowed with various forms, by which they generate and vary all kinds of colours ; and since, more- over, it is of great consequence with what atoms, and in what configuration, ^eminal-particles are severally combined, and what impacts they mutually give and receive ; you may at once, with the greatest ease, render a reason why those objects which were a while ago of a black colour, may sud- denly become of a marble whiteness ; as when the sea, after violent winds have stirred up its waters, is changed in hue, and boils up into waves white as the whiteness of marble. For you may readily say of any object which we generally observe to be black, that, when its material-atoms have been

2

For whatsoever being changed, ^.] Ver. 753. See i. 671. For your gratification.] Ver. 756. Tibi,

82 LUCBBTIU8. b. ii. 779-797

disturbec^ and the order of the particles changed, and some taken away and others added, it forthwith becomes possible that it ma J seem of a glowii^ whiteness.^ Bat if the waters of the sea consisted of caemlean atoms, thej could bj no means become white ; for, in whatever way jou may disorder and commingle those atoms which are csBrolean, they can never pass into the colour of marble. But if the atoms which make up the simple and pure colour of the sea, were tinged with va- rious and diverse colours ; as frequently we see, from different forms and dissimilar figures, is formed a perfect square, con- sisHng (^ only one figure ; it would follow, that, as in the square we see the other different figures exist, so in the water of the sea, or in any other simple and pure colour, we should see those wholly different and distinct eo\o\a^ from which the uniform colour of the sea proceeds.

Further, the different figures which mahe up the square, by no means hinder or prevent the whole outline^ of the com- pound figure from being or appearing square ; but the various colours of any substances which make up any compound sub- stance, impede and prohibit that whole compound substance from possibly being of one uniform hue.

Then, moreover, the reason which prompts and induces us sometimes to impute colours to primary-particles, namely, that coloured substances are compounded of them, passes for no- thing; because white substances, as the foam of the sea for instance, are not necessarily produced firom other white sub- stances; nor substances which are black, from oM^ black sub- stances; but ^m. substances of Ymouia colours; and because, moreover, white substances will more readily arise, and be produced, from primary-particles of no colour than from pri- mary-particles of a black colour, or from particles of any other colour whatsoever that is adverse and opposed to white^

Further, since there can be no colours without light, and the primary-particles of things do not come forth into the light,^ you may hence feel certain that they are vested with

' Of a glowing whiteness.] Ver. 771* Candens — et album.

' Whole outline.] Ver. 785. Omne extra. "In superficie et am- bitu." Gifanius.

^ * And the primary-particles of things do not come forth into the light.] Ver. 796. Negtte in Iticem existunt primordia rerum. This is not true, for the primary-particles that are on the surface of things do come forth into the light. " He reasons thus," says Lambinus ;

B II. 79a-817. LUCRETIUS. 83

no colours at cUL For what sort of colour will there possibly exist in thick darkness, when colour is a thing which is changed in and hy mere light, because it appears different, as it is struck by direct or oblique light ? As the plumage of doves which is situate round the back of the head, and encir«> cles the neck, appears of a different colour as it is seen differ- ently in the sun. For in one position it is affected so as to be red with the hue ©/"the bright 'carbuncle ; at another time, in a certain aspect,^ it is so changed that it seems to mix the colour of green emeralds with blue. The tail of the peacock, also, when it is covered with a flood of light, changes its co- lours, cu it is presented in different ways, in like manner. And since all these colours are produced by a certain effect of the light, it must be considered that colour cannot be produced at aUf without that light.

Since, too, the pupil of the eye^ receives upon itself one kind of impulse when it is said to perceive a white colour, and another again, when it perceives black and other colours; and since it is of no moment, as to the feeling, with what colour those things, which you touch, are distinguished, but rather of what shape they are formed, you may conclude that primary-particles have no need of colours, but have only to affect the touch differently through the different forms in which tJiey are combined.

Besides, since there is no certain kind of colours peculiar^ to

*^ Without light colours are not seen ; primary-atoms are not seen ; therefore primary-atoms are without colour : a syllogism which is unsound, though all its parts are true." Lambinus was too indul- gent ; he should have disputed the minor. The atoms of things are not seen individually, but they meet the tight on surfaces collectively.

* In a certain aspect] Ver. 804. Qfiiodam tensu, " As the French say, speaking of vision, en un certain sens; or, as in ver. 808, qwodam lumime ictu, Faber.

* Since, too, the pupil of the eye, S*c.] Ver^ 810. The sense of the paragraph is this : The eye is affected in one way when it per^ ceives a white colour, and in another way when it perceives a black ; but such affections are produced by touch or impact on the eye^ (by means, namely, of the images thrown off from the surface of bodies ) ; and to the sense of touch colour is not reauisite ; therefore primary? atoms, which act on the eye by touch, nave no need of Qolour to produce their effects, and may be considered to he without it

' Besides, since there is no certain kind of colours peculiar, jr^.] Ver. 817. The force of the argument is this: Suppose that the primarv-atoms of things have colour, those who maintain this opin- ion will surely not say that certain colours of atoms are peculiar to

G 2

84 ' LUCRETIUS. B. II. 818--845.

certain shapes, and since all shapes of seminal-atoms may exist with any colour whatsoever, why, if we suppose that seminaU atoms, which are of manifold shapes, have colour y are not those creatures which consist of those seminal-atoms, sprinkled over accordingly with all sorts of colours, each in its several kind, whatsoever it may he f For, under Ms supposition, it might be expected that crows, as they fly, would often shed forth a white colour from white feathers, and that swans, if spring- ing perchance from black atoms, would be bom black, or, if from atoms of any other colour, might he of any other hue whatsoever, uniform or varied.

Moreover, the more any body is divided into small parts, the more you can see its colour by degrees die away and be- come extinct, as happens when gold is broken into small frag- ments. So purple and scarlet, (by far the brightest of colours,) when they have been divided thread by thread, are utterly deprived €f lustre. So that you may from this infer, that the small parts of bodies throw off all colour, before they are re- duced to their ultimate-atoms.

Further, since you grant that all bodies do not emit sound or smell, it consequently happens that you do not attribute to all bodies sounds or smells. So, since we cannot see all bodies with our eyes, we may conceive that certain bodies exist, which we do not see, as much destitute of colour as others are free from smell, and void of sound ; and that an intelligent mind can form a notion of these colourless bodies, no less than of others which are destitute of other qualities and distinctions.

But that you may not perchance imagine that primary atoms remain void of colour only, they are also, you may understand, altogether destitute of helit and cold ; ^ and are understood to be barren of sound, and dry of all moisture ; nor do they

certain shapes of atoms ; for example, that all triangular atoms are black, all quadrangular atoms blue, ^c, but will allow that in.each shape there must be atoms of different colours ; for instance, that among triangular atoms some must be white, some black, some of intermediate colours. Let us suppose, then, that crows consist chiefly of triangular atoms; it would hence follow that crows might be^ bom not black, but white, or green, or blue, or variegated. But this never happens ; atoms are therefore without colour.'' Lanibinus. * Altogether destitute of heat and cold.] Ver. 844. Secreta teporia sunt ac frigoris omnino calidique vaporis, I have not thought it neces- sary to give more than one word for heat; and have made a similar abbreviation in ver. 858.

B. II. 846-T^67. LUCRETIUS. 85

send out any odour of their own from their substance. Thus when you proceed to compound a sweet ointment of amaracus,^ and myrrl^ and the flower of nard, which breathes nectar to the nostrils, it is, in the first place, proper to seek, as far as is conyenient, and a^ far as you may be able to find, the sub- stance of inodorous olive oil, which emits no scent to the nostrils, that it may, as little as possible, by the infection of any strong smell of its own, corrupt the odours mixed and digested in its body as a vehicle for them.

Finally, therefore, it must be granted that the primary-atoms of things communicate no odour or sound of their own, to the things to be produced/rom them^ since they can emit from them- selves none of these qualities; nor, in like manner, do they emit any savour at all,, or cold or heat. Other qualities, moreover^ which are such that they are themselves^ and in the bodies with which they are connected^ perishable, as pliancy from soft- ness, brittleness from decay, hollowness from tenuity of sub- stance, must all, of necessity, be separated from primary-ele- ments, if we wish to lay an everlasting foundation for things, on which their entire security may rest, that the whole universe may not be resolved into nothing.

And now let me observe that those creatures^ whatsoever they are ^at we perceive to have sense, you must necessarily ac^owledge to consist wholly of senseless atoms.^ Nor do manifest appearances,^ which are readily observed, refute this

* Sweet ointment of amaracus, ^c.'] Ver. 847. SictU amarcunni blandum atacttsqite liquorem Et nardi fiorem, nectar qui naribua halat. Amaracua is generally understood to be sweet-marjoram* StacUt is liquid myrrh, Nardua is what we call spikenard, ** Nectar, the sweetest of odours ; metaphorically transferred from the taste to the smell." Lambinus, — But the simile of the inodorous oil is but an imperfect illustration of the position that ultimate particles are without smell; for the oil is but the vehicle of the perfumes ; ultimate particles ar^ themselves the substance of the perfumes.

^ Other qualities, moreover, ^c.1 Ver. S59, He signifies that the primary atoms of things must be destitute of all (qualities that would render them perishable ; they must be hard, solid, and unyielding, as he shows, i. 501, seq., and elsewhere.

* And now let me observe wholly of senseless atoms.] Ver. 865.

He now proceeds to show that living creatures are formed from senseless atoms. ^

* Nor do manifest appearances refute this position,'] Ver. 867.

Neqtte id manifesta rejvtant, '* A common argument of Epicurus, oh fidxtrai roic ^cuvoMvoig," Faber,

86 * LUCRETIUS. b. ii. 868-894.

position, or in the least oppose it, bat rather themselves lead lis by the hand, as it were, and compel us to believe that ani- mals, though possessed of sense^ are generated, as I say, from atoms without sense*

For you may observe living worms proceed from foul dung, when the earth, moistened with immoderate showers, has contracted a kind of putrescence ; and you may see all other things besides change themselves, similarly, into other things. The rivers turn themselves into leaves of trees ; and the rich pastm*es into cattle; the cattle change their substance into that of our bodies ; and from our bodies the strength of wild beasts, and the frames of birds, are often augmented. Nature, thei*efore, changes all kinds of food into Hving bodies, and hence produces all senses of animals in a method not very far different from that by which she resolves dry wood into flames, «nd turns all combtistible bodies into fire.

Do you now understand, therefore, that it is of great im- portance in what order the primordial elements of things are severally placed^ and with what other elements being mingled, they give and receive impulses ?

Besides, what is it that acts upon your mind, what moves you, and induces you to express a different opinion, preventing you from believing that what is possessed of sense is produced from atoms without sense ? It is, evidently, this: that stones, and wood, and earth,* however mixed together, are neverthe- less unable to produce vital sense.

On these subjects, then, it will be proper for you to remem- ber this principle,^ that I 'do not say that what has sense, or that senses themselves, are of course^ produced from all atofns in general, whatsoever generate things ; but that it is of great im- portance, in the first place, of what size those atoms are which

•

* Stones, and wood, and earth, ^c.l Ver. 889. You say that be- cause a mixture of such lifeless substances as stones, wood, &c., cannot produce sensible beings, therefore insensible atoms cannot give rise to sensible beings.

* It will be proper for you to remember this principle.] Ver. 891. lUttd in hia igvturfoedua meminisae decebit. I have translated fadus "principle," but the reading ought doubtless to be IHxid in his igitur rebus, which Lambinus suggested, and which Lachmann has adopted.

» Of course.] Ver. 898. Extemplo, Forthwith, readily, without difiiculty.

B. n. 895—911. LUCRETIUS. 87

are to produce a, being of sense, and with what shape they are distinguished ; and, in the next place, what they are in their movements, arrangements, and positions ; of which par- • ticulars, we^fram our imperfect perceptions, see nothing take place in wopd and clods ; and yet these, when they are as it were rendered putrescent by rain, produce worms, and for this reason, because the atoms of matter, being driven from their former arrangements by some new impulse, are combined in such a manner as makes it indispensable for animals to be {Produced.

Besides, when philosophers determine that a being which has simse can be produced only from atoms endowed with sense, they forthwith, accustomed to adopt opinions from others, make those atoms soft ; for all sense is connected with viscera, nerves, veins, and whatever soft stibstances we see exist and grow in a mortal body.

But let it be supposed, for a moment, that these atoms, of which animals consist, may, though sensible and soft, remain eternal. They must then, however, either have sense as parts of animals,^ or be thought similar to whole animals. But it cannot be that as parts they have sense of themselves, for every part and mender, if separated from the body, breaks off con- nexion with the other senses of the other members ;^ nor can

' Must — either have sense cts parts of animals, ^c] Ver. 908. Sen- 9um partis habere, " Talem sensum habehunt, qualem habent par- tes.*' XamWntt*.— Or be thought similar to whole animals.] Aut similes totis animalibus esse putari. What similes is to agree with, is not very clear; Wakefield, whose reading it is, says venas et neroos; but it ought to agree vfiih primordia, (comp. ver. 916,J or to refer to the primordia in some way. Lamhinus and Creecn read similia, Lachmann has g^ven, Aut simili totis animaMus (scilicet ser^su) esse putari,

' For every part and member ^ if separated from the body, breaks off connexion with the other senses of the other members.] Ver. 911. Namque alios sensus membrorum respuit omnis, I have translated this line 'according to the interpretation of Lamhinus : omnis " pars a toto separata, alianun omnium partium jsuarum sensus rejicit ac re- spuit." But the reading can hardly be sound. Gifanius proposed namque ali6m sensus membrorum res petit omnis, which Havercamp admitted into the text. Lachmann g^ves something different: "Quid poeta voluerit," says he, "dubium esse non potest; nep^at enim membra singula seorsum sentiri posse, quippe quae ad aliud referantur, hoc est, ad animam : neque hoc difficile est ex verbis leviter corruptis extundere : namque ali6 sensus membrorum respicit omnis," ' This is not very satisfactory.

88 LUCEETIUS. b. n. 912-935.

the hand, when dissevered from us, nor any part of the body whatsoeveTy retain alone the sense of the whole body. It re- mains, therefore, that they must resemble whole animals, so that they may be animated with vital sense throughout. But how, then, will it be possible for them to be called the elements of things, and avoid the paths to death, when they are of an animal nature, and, existing themselves in perishable animals^ are one and the same with them f

Yet if we allow th&t primordial atoms, though imperishable, may nevertheless be endowed with sense, they will necessarily in that case produce nothing but a crowd and multitude of animals ; just as men, cattle, and wild beasts, would be un- able to produce by combination severally among themselves, any thing but men, cattle, and wild beasts. How then could things inanimcUe, as trees and metals, be produced? It is only on this supposition, accordingly,^ (viz, that they can ge- nerate nothing but sentient beings,) that we should be obliged, as far as we see, to allow primordicU^atoms to be sentient.

But if, perhaps, you say that the primordial-atoms, being, as you think, sentient, lay aside, in combination, their own proper sense, and take another, what need was there, in that case, that that should be assigned to them, which is afterwards taken away? And besides, to recur to an illustration to which we had recourse before, inasmuch as we see eggs of animals changed into birds, and worms spring forth when a kind of putrescence, from immoderate rains, has affected the ground, we know that animals having senses may be produced from objects without senses.

But if any one, perchance, shall say that sentient-beings may certainly^ arise from senseless atoms, but that this must be effected by some change which takes place in those atoms, as from some new birth, before the sentient being which they con- stitute is brought forth into existence, it will be sufficient to explain and prove to him, that no birth ever takes place, un- less from some combination previously formed, and that no

^ It is only on this supposition, accordingly, 4r<?.] Ver. 923.^ Sic itidem^ qucL sentimtts, sentire necesse est. This verse appeared so inex-

Slicable to Lambinus, that he struck it out; and Lachmann has one the same. The sense which I have adven to it, is taken from Wakefield.

' Certainly.] Ver. 931. Duntaxat, 3ee Scheller's Lexicon. And comp. ii. 122.

B. n. 936-962. LUCRETIUS. 89

CHANGE is effected without a combination of primordial-atoms ; for no senses of any animal body can exist before the substance itself of the animal is formed ; and this is evident, inasmuch as senseless matter is kept dispersed throughout the air, rivers, earth, and things produced from the earth ; nor, though it may have united,^ has it so united as to engender in itself those con- cordant vital motions, by which the dl-observing senses ofanu mals being generated, direct and preserve every living creature.

Besides, a blow inflicted, if heavier^ than nature can endure, strikes down any animal at once, and has the effect of con- founding all sense of the body and of the mind ; for the posi- tions and connexions of the atoms are dissolved, and the vital motions are utterly impeded ; until at last the matter of the body, suffering concussion in every member, unlooses from the body the vital ties of the soul, and drives it forth, scat- tered abroad, through every outlet. For what more can we suppose that an inflicted blow can do, than shake to pieces and dissolve the several elements that were previously united ?

It also happens, that when a blow is inflicted with less vio- lence, the remains of vital motion often prevail; prevail, I say, over the effects of it, and calm the violent disorders occa- sioned by the stroke, and recall every thing again into its proper channel ; and thus dispel, as it were, the movement of death, when asserting-its-power in the body, and revive the senses when almost lost and overcome. For under what in- fluence, if not under this revival of the sentient motions, can bodies return to life, the mind being re-established,^ even from the very threshold of dissolution, rather than depart and pass away to the bourne to which they had almost accomplished their course ?

* Nor, though it may have united, ^c,] Ver. 942. Nee congressd

modo, " That is, si modo sU congressa ; si hoc etiam eveniat. " Wake-

field, Lucretius means to say that there is abundance of matter for

producing animals dispersed throughout the earth, ^c., but which

nas not yet combined to produce vital motions.

* Besides, a blow inflicted^ if heavier, 4f^.] Ver. 944. The argu- ment is this: Atoms are senseless, and animal sense depends solely on their arrangement; for, if that arrangement be disturbed by a blow, the animal may at once be rendered senseless ; and, if it re- cover from the shock, it may suffer much pain. This argument extends to ver. 972.

* The mind being re-established.] Ver. 961. ConJectA mente, "The mind collecting itself into the most vital parts." Wakefield,

90 LUCRETIUS. B. M. MS-IW5.

Furthermore, since pain happens when the principles of matter in any living hody^ disturbed \sij wskj force throughout the viscera or the limbs, are agitnled in their situations with- in, and driven from their proper places; and since an agree- able pleasure sacoeads when they return into their places ; it is but light to kiSsr, that primordial-atoms can be affected i^h no pain, and enjoy no pleasure, of themselves ; for they, heing primary bodies^ do not consist of those combination^ of primary-bodies^ the motions of which suffer pain^ or receive enjoyment of gentle pleasure, from alteration. Primordial atoms, therefore, must not be considered as endowed with any sense whatever.

Besides, if, in order that animals may severally have sense^ sense is also to be attributed to their primary-elements, then, forsooth, ^e elements of which the human race is peculiariy constituted, both laugh, shaking their sides ^ with tremulous cachinnation, and sprinkle their faces and cheeks with distil- ling tears ; they, moreover, can tell much of the mixture of bodies, and inquire, besides, what are their own elements. For, as they resemble entire men, compounded of elements, they themselves must also be compounded of other elements ; and these others must be composed of others again, so that, reckoning thus, you would never make a stop, but go on to in^ finity. For I shall pursue the argument, and demand that whatever you shall admit to speak, and laugh, and under^- stand, must consist of other elements exercising the same powers. But if we plainly see such reasoning to be absurd and insane ; and if a bebig can laugh that is compounded of elements which do not laugh, and can understand, and render a reason in intelligible words, though he be not com" pounded of intelligent and eloquent seminal-principles, why may not all those creatures which we observe to be sentient around us, be compounded of seminal-atoms wholly destitute of sense?

Finally, we are all sprung from celestial seed ; the father of all is the same jether, from which, when the bountiful earth has received the liquid drops of moisture, she, being impregnated, produces the rich crops and the joyous groves, and the race of men ; produces all the tribes of beasts ; since,

* Laugh, shaking their aides , 4rc.] Ver. 976. See i. 918.

B. II. 99&~1022. LUCRETIUS. 91

she supplies them food^ by means of which they all- support their bodies^ and lead a pleasant life, and propagate offspring ; on which account she has justly obtained the name of Mother. That, also, which first arose from the earth, returns back into the earth ; and that which was sent down from the regions of the sky, the regions of the sky again receive when carried back to them ; nor does death so put an end to things as to destroy the atoms of matter, but only disunites their combinations, and produces new unions of particles, and is the cause that all things so change their forms, and vary their coloua^ sad receive perception, and in a moment of time yieid it np «@ain. 80 that you may imderstaiid it to be of the greatest import- jmee witiii what elements, and in what position and connexion^ the same primordial-atoms of things are combined, and what impulses they mutually give and receive ; (nor suppose that the primary particles of things cannot remain eternal, because we see them fluctuate upon the surface of things, and some- times apparently bom and suddenly perish ;) as even in these very verses of mine it is of great consequence with what letters, and in what order, other letters are severally placed ; for the same letters^ variously selected and combined, signify heaven, sea, earth, rivers, sun ; the same signify corn, groves, animals ; if the words are not all, yet by far the greater part are, aHke,^ at least so far as to have some letter or letters in common; but the subjects which they express are distinguished by the different arrangements of the letters to form the words. So likewise even in things themselves, when the intervals, passages, connexions, weights, impulses, collisions, move- ments, order, position, arid configurations of the atoms of matter are interchanged, the things which are formed from them must also be changed.

> If the iDorda are not all, yet by far the greater part are, alike,

f^] Ver. 1017. Si non omnia aint^ at mttlto maxima para est Conaimilia. have translated this according to Wakefield's exposition : " liters esdem, plures paucioresve, in verbis long^ pluribus inveniuntur." But I am not quite sure that this sense can fairly be extracted from it. Creech's interpretation is, *' Si non omnes sunt esdem liters, at miUtu maxima pars eadem est," which can scarcely be thought intended to throw light on the subject. Lachmann seems to refer omnia to verba, but gives no further illustration. Other commenta- tors and translators afibrd no help whatsoever.

92 LUCRETIUS. B. 11. 102a-1050.

Give your attention now, closely,^ to the conclimons of juat reasoning, from what we have previous^ stated. • For a new doctrine presses earnestly to approach your ear, and a new scene of things to display itself. But neither is any thing so easy, or credible, as that it may not seem rather difficult of be- lief at first ; nor, likewise,' is there any thing so great, or any thing so admirable at jirst^ at which all men alike do not by degrees less and less wonder.

In the first place, consider the bright and pure colour of the sky, and that which the stars, wandering in all directions, contain in themselves, and the resplendency, from brilliancy of light, of the moon and the sun ; all which objects^ if they were now first apparent to mortal eyes ; if they were, I say, now first presented to them unexpectedly and suddenly, what could be mentioned, which would he more wonderful than these phenomena, or which the nations of the toor/cf- could less presume, beforehand, to believe would exist ? Nothing, as I conceive ; so wonderful to men would this scene of things have been, for the sake of which no man, you may observe, now deigns to look up to the bright regions of the sky, every one being listless from satiety of viewing it. Wherefore for- bear, through being alarmed at mere novelty, to reject any argument or opinion from your mind, but rather weigh it with severe judgment, and, if it seem to you to be just, yield your assent to it ; or, if it be false, gird up your loins to op- pose it. For, since the sum of space, abroad beyond these walls of our world, is, £» / have proved, infinite, my mind proceeds to make inquiry what there exists farther onwards, in those parts into which the mind perpetually longs to look, and into which the free effi^rt of thought itself eamestly- desires to penetrate.

The first point which I advance is, that in every direction around us, and on all sides, above and below, there is no limit through the whole of space, as / myself have demonstrated, and as truth itself spontaneously proclaims, and the nature of

* Give your attention now, closely, ^c] Ver* 1023. Nunc animttm nobis adhioe, &c. Being now about to assert that there are many worlds, and that they are born and perish ; a doctrine which many might be slow to believe ; he does not think fit to advance it without gravely demanding the attention of the reader.

B. II. 1061—1080. LUCRETIUS. 93

the profound itself makes clear as light. But hj no means can it he thought prohahle, when infinite space Hes open in every quarter, and wlien seminal-atoms, of incomputahle numher and unfathomable sum, driven about bj everlasting motion, fij thnmgh the void in infinite ways, that this one globe of the earth, and this one heaven, have been alone pro- duced; and that those innumerable particles of matter do nothing beyond our sphere ; especially when this world was made by merely natural-causes, and the atoms of things jost- ling about' of their own accord in infinite modes, often brought together confusedly, ineffectually, and to no purpose, at length successfully coalesced ; — at least such of them as, thrown to- gether suddenly, became in succession^ the beginnings of great things, of the earth, the sea, the heaven, and the race of ani- mals. For which reason, it is irresistibly incumbent on you to admit, that there are other combinations of matter in other places, such as is this world, which the ether holds in its vast embrace.

Further, when abundance of matter is ready, and space' is at hand, and when no object or cause hinders or delays, things must necessarily be generated^ and brought into being. And now, if there is such a vast multitude of seminal-atoms as the whole age of all living creatures would not suffice to number, and if there remains the same force and nature, that can throw together the atoms of things into every part in the same manner as they have been thrown together into this, you must necessarily suppose that there lare other orbs of earth in other regions of space,. 9,nd various races of men and gener- ations of beasts.

To this is to be added, that in the whole of our world there is no one thing which is produced single, and grows up alone and by itself, but that every thing is of some class, and that there are many individuals in the same kind. Thus, among 'animals especicdly, you will, by your own observation,* see thb

* Jostling about.] Ver. 1059. Forth offensando,

* Became in succession.] Ver. 1062. Fierent semper, FronH time to time.

* Generated.] Ver. 1069. Geri, Properly, carWw? on. Lambinus read genu

* By your own observation.] Ver. 1080. Indice tnente, " By the observation of your mind ;— if you attend to the suggestions and ad- monitions of reason." Wakefield,

94 LUCRETIUS. b. ii. 1081—1110.

to be the case as to the brood of wild beasts that range over the mountains ; you witt find the same as to the race of men, male and female ;^ the same, moreover, as to the mute swarms of fishes, and all the kinds of birds. Wherefore it is to be admitted, that, in like manner, the heaven, and the earth, and the sun, the moon, the sea, and other things which exist, are not single, but rather of infinite number ; since ikese follow the same general law^ as other things that arise and decay ; the limit of existence, deeply and unalterahly fixed, awaits these parts of nature as well a^ others, and thej consist as much of a natural body, generated but. to die, as the whole race of animals which abound, in their several kinds, in this state of things.

Which points if, being well understood, you keep in mind, and reason from them, the system of nature immediately ap- pears, (zs a free agent, released from tyrant masters, to do every thing itself of itself spontaneously, without the help of the gods. For (0 ye sacred bosoms of the deities, that pass in ^ tranquil peace a calm and most serene existence ! ) who is able to rule the whole of this immense universe? Who can hold in his hand, with power to guide them, the strong reins of this vast combination of things f What god can, at the same time, turn round all the heavens, and warm all the earth with ethereal fires ? Or what god can be, at the same moment, present in all places, to produce darkness with clouds, and shake the calm regions of heaven with thunder, and then to hurl bolts, and overturn, us often happens, his own temples ; or afterwards, retiring to the desert and uninhabited parts of the earth, to rage there, exercising that weapon with which he often misses the guilty, and kills the innocent and undeserving ?

And after the time when the world was produced, and the natal day of the sea, and the rise of the earth and the sun, atoms were added from without ; seeds, which the vast whole, by agitation, contributed, were conjoined ; whence the sea and the earth had the means of increase, and whence the mansion of the sky amplified its vastness, and raised its lofty vaults far above the earth, and the air rose higher and higher. For to

^ Race of men, male and female.] Ver. 1082. Hominum geminam prolem. ** Utrumque sexum." Creech. A\, genitam prolem.

' Since these follow the same general law, 4r^.] Ver. 1087. In intro- ducing these words, I follow Lambinus's elucidation.

B. II. 1111—1138. LUCRETIUS. 95

i

every body in nature^ from all regions of space, are con- tributed, by the agitation of particles^ its own jorqper atoms, and they betake themselves severally to their own kinds of mat- ter; the particles of moisture pa^s to water ; the earth is in- creased with atoms of earth ; and the fiery-principles produce fire, and the aerial air ; until, a^ stich operations proceeded^ nature, the perfectre^ and parent of the world, brought all things to the utmost limit of growth ; as happens when that which is received into the vital passages, is no more in quan' tity than that which fiows away and passes off. In these cir-' cumstances, the age and growth of All beings ^ must be at a stand ; here nature, by her own influence, restrains further increase.

For whatsoever creatures you see enlarge themselves to a full and lively bulk, and climb, by degrees, the steps to a mature age, receive into themselves more atoms than they emit ; whilst the nourishment is readily distributed through the veins, and whilst their bodies are not so widely dilated ^ as to expel many, that is, a disproportionate number of particles, and to cause the waste to be greater than the food on which their life sustains itself. For certainly we must admit that many atoms flow off and pass away from bodies ; but, till they have reached the highest point of growth, more ought to accrue to them. From that point, age reduces by degrees their mature force and strength, and melts away aTid sinks doum to its decline. Since the larger any creature is, at the time when its increase is stopped, and the greater is its extent of surface, the more atoms it disperses,^ and emits from itself, in all directions around ; nor is the whole of its food readily distributed through its veins ; nor is there sufficient nourish- ment generated fromthe food, in proportion to the effluvia which the body discharges,^ whence as much support as is necessary

* In these circumstances^ the age and growth of all beings, ^c,] Ver. 1120. Omnibus his atcu debet consistere rebus. I do not consider that omnibus agrees with rebusj but that it is in the dative case, and his rebus in the ablative. In four MSS. Lambinus found Omnibus hie, S^c., which will give the same sense, though omnibus be then re- garded as agreeing with rebus.

2 DilatedJ Ver. 1126. Dispersa. " Dilatata." Creech.

' The greater is its extent of surface, the more atoms it dis- perses.] Ver. 1134. Quo latior est, Plura modo dispergit. " Quo

modo latior est, eo modo plura dispergit." Wakefield.

* In proportion to the effluvia which the body discharges.] Ver.

96 LUCEETITJS. B. II. 113^-1161.

can arise and be supplied to Uy^ and whence nature can recruit what is requisite. BodieSy therefore, naturally decay, as they are wasted by their substance passing ofi^ and as all things yield to external attacks ; for" food at last fails to support ad- vanced age ; and hostile atoms, striking externally, cease not to exhaust every creature, and subdue it with assaults.

So likewl&e the walls of the great world, being assailed around, shall suffer decay, and faU into mouldering ruins. For, tf things are hept in vigour ^ it is nourishment ^at must recruit them all by renewal ; and t^ is nourishment that must support, nourishment that must sustain alL But itisisi vain to expect that this frame of the world wiU last for ever; for neither do its veins, so to speahy submit to receive what is suf- ficient for its maintenance, nor does nature minister as much aliment as is needed.

And thus, even now, the age of the world is debilitated, and the earth, which produced all races of creatures, and gave forth, at a birth, vast forms of wild animals, now, being ex- hausted, scarcely rears a small and degenerate offspring. 2^e earth, I say, which produced aU creatures; for it was not, as I conceive, a golden chain from above ^ that let down the tribes of mortals from heaven into the fields ; i^r did the sea, or the waves that beat the rocks, produce them ; but the same earth, which now nourishes them from her own substance, generated them at first.

Moreover the earth herself, of her own apcord, first pro- duced for mortals rich crops and joyous vineyards ; she her- self supplied sweet herbs over the abundant pastures, which now scarcely reach-a-full-growth,* though assisted and aug-

1137. Pro qtmm largot extestuat astus. Proquam is rare. It occurs again iii. 200.

* "Whence as much support as is necessary, ^c] Ver. 1138. Unde queant tantum stiboriri ac stqjpeditare. " Quean t, «?. corpora," says Wakefield, Others read queat, which is more satisfactory. UndCy whence, i. e. from the food.

* Golden chain from ahove.J Ver. 1155. "All creatures, I say, sprung from the earth ; for livmg things were not, as the assertors of a providence affirm, let down from Heaven by that golden chain which none but Homer ever saw (II. ix. 18) ; nor were they generated from the sea and its waves ; but the earth, which now nourishes all things, originally produced all thingfs." Fdber,

* Scarcely reach-a-full-growth.] Ver. 1161. Vix grandescunt. This complaint of the decay and degeneracy of things has heen common

B. II. 1162-1176. LUCRETIUS. ^ 97

merited bj our toil. We both wear out our oxen and exhaust the strength of our husbandmen, being scarcely supplied toM fruits from our slowly-yielding fields. To such a degree do the productions of the earth decline, and increase onlt/ with human labour. And ijx these days the sturdy ploughman, shaking his head, sighs that his great toil has too often fallen out in vain ; and, when he compares the present times to the . times past, frequently praises the good-fortune of his fore- father. The planter of the degenerate vine, also, sad and fatigued, accuses the progress of time, and wearies heaven with prayers for better seasons; and often remarks how the an- cient race cfmen, full of piety, spent their lives happily* within narrow limits, when the portion of land, cultivated formerly by each individual, was much less than at present; nor does his untateght mind understand that all things, exhausted by a long course of time, gradually waste away and pass to their grave.

to poets from Homer downwards. Johnson ridicules it in his Life of Milton.

* Spent their lives happily.] Ver. 1172. PerfaciXt—tolerarit — avom, " Beati mverent; as in Terence, Qudinvos facile vivitis ! and in Homer« II. vii. 138, pkia l^iaovreg is applied to the gods/' FaJ)er.

BOOK III.

ARGUMENT.

Having, in the first two books, treated of the nature and qualities of atoms, Lucretius proceeds, in the four following books, to speak of what is formed from those atoms. He occupies the third book with a description of the na- ture of the mind and the soul, commencing (yer. 1 — 13) with a eulo^ on Epicurus, who taught that the world was formed, not by any divine power, but from a fortuitous concourse of atoms, and who succeeded, beyond any other philosopher, in relieving the minds of men from the fear of the gods, of death, and of torments after death, yer. 14 — 10. Many who pretend to be free from this fear, are still disquieted with it ; and it is often the source of crimes, yer. 41 — 93. He then shows that the mind and soul are a part of man, not less than the hand or foot, and not a mere harmony of the parts of ^e body, as some philosophers taught, yer. 94 — 106. Bieasons on the separate affections of the body and mind, on sleep, on corporeal mutila- tions, and on the cessation of breathing, yer. 107 — 137. Uses the terms mind and soul indiscriminately, yet shows that the mind (animua) is the chief part, residing in the middle of the breast, the soul (anima) being diffused throughout the body, and under the dirjection of the mind, yer. 138 — 161. That this mind, and soul, are corpopr al, acting on the body by material impact, and consisting of minute aioms^ imperceptible to the senses, yer. 161 — 231. That the substance of the «8oul and mind is not simple, but composed of four subtle consistences, heat, air, aura^ and a fourth, to which no name is given, yer. 232—323. That the soul and body cannot be separated without destruction to both ; and that the sentient power is not confined to the soul, yer. 324 — 370. He then refutes the opinion of Democritus, who thought that the soul and body had corre- spondent parts, yer. 371 — 396. Shows that the preservation of life depend^ more on me mind than on the soul, yer. 397 — 417. Afterwards he demoji- strates, by twenty strict arguments, and six additional observations, that the soul perishes with the oody, ridiculing, by tiie way, the Pythagorean transmigration, yer. 418—841. Hence he observes, tlutt, as death is the end of man, nothing is to be feared after it ; that it cannot be in itself an evil, because the dead can renet nothing that they have left ; and that prolongation of life is not to be desired, as it would furnish nothing but • what has been already enjoyed, yer. 842---988. Says that all the Tarta- rean sufferings which are dreaded after death, are witnessed and endured in life, yer. 989 — 1036. Consoles mankind, by observing l^t the best men have died as well as the worst, and exhorto them to contemplate death with reason and calmness, yer. 1037 — 1088. Concludes with a few more moral reflections to the same purpose, yer. 1089—1107.

H 2

100 LUCRETIUS. b. hi. 1—24.

0 thou, who, from so great darkness, wast first able to raise so effulgent a light, shedding-a-lustre-on the blessings of life, thee, O glory of the Greek nation, I follow, and now place the steps of my feet formed upon thy impressed traces,^ yet not because I am so eager to rival, as because, from the love which I feel for fhee^ I desire to imitate thee. For why should the swallow contend with swans ? Or what, that is all similar, can kids, with trembling limbs, and the strong vigour of the horse, perform in the race? Thou, O father, art the dis- coverer of truths ;^ thou suppliest to us paternal precepts, and from thy writings, 0 illustrious teacher, as bees gather ^ from aU blossoms in the flowery glades, so we feed upon thy golden words ; golden, I say, and most worthy of perpetual existence.

For as soon as thy system of philosophy began to proclaim aloud the natuee op things, as it arose in ^y divine intel- lect,* the terrors of the mind disperse ; the walls of the world open ; I see things conducted throughout the mighty void of space; the ca/wi divinity of the gods ^ appears, and their tran- quil abodes, which neither winds disturb, nor clouds sprinkle with showers, nor snow falling white, congealed with sharp frost, inconveniences ; ^ but the pure air is always cloudless, and smiles with widely effulgent light.^ To them, moreover, nature supplies all things, nor does any cause, at any time, diminish the tranquillity of their minds. But the regions of

* Steps of my feet formed upon thy impressed traces.] Ver. 4. Ficta pedum pono pressis mstigia signis, " Ponoque vestigia pedum (i. e. sola pedum) ficta (i* e. se fingentla,) effig^ata, demrmata, in tuis si^nis, vel signis tuorum pedum." Wakefield,

^ Discoverer of truths.] Ver. 9. Rerum inventor, " Philosophise auctor, founder of true philosophy.*' Creech,

^ As bees gather.] Ver. 11. Limant, This is adopted by Wake- field in the sense of decerpunt, delibant, " cull, gather." Others, with Lachmann, read libant.

* Thy divine intellect.] Ver. 15. Divind mente coortam. This is the reading of Wakefield, referring to the mind of Epicurus ; Lambinus and his followers read ?iaud divina mente, that is, not from the mind of the gods.

* Calm divinity of the gods.] See i. 646 — 651.

* Inconveniences.] Ver. 21. Violat. I hesitated what word to choose for this, and took one of the mildest that I could find. Creech has invades, but this is no proper sense of the word.

' EiFulgent light.] Ver. 22. Diffusa lumine. See i. 9.

B. III. 25-53. LUCRETIUS. 101

Acheron, on the other hand, are no where apparent ; nor does the dark earth hinder hut that all things, whatever are done beneathour fe^ throughout the void, may be seen and con- templated. Under the influence of these wonders disclosed there, 'a certain divine pleasure and dread penetrates me ; amazed that nature, thus manifestly displayed by thy power, has been in all parts revealed to us.

And since I have shown * of what kind the primordial at^ms of all things are, and how, differing in their various forms,' and actuated by motion from all eternity, they fly through the void of space of their own accord ;^ and since I have also de- numstraied by what means all individual things may be pro- duced from them ; the nature of the mind and of the soul now seems, next to these subjects, proper to be illustrated in my verses ; and there must be driven utterly from our minds ^ that fear of Acheron, which disturbs human life from its very' foundation, suffusing all things with the blackness of death, nor allows any pleasure to be pure and uncontaminated.

For as to what men often say, that diseases, and a life of infamy, are more to be feared than Tartarus, the successor of ' death ; and that they know the consistence of the soul to be of the nature of blood, or even of breath, (if their inclination happen to lead them to such an opinion,) and have no need at all of our reasoning and instruction; you may perceive, for the reasons that follow,^ that all these observations are thrown out more for the sake of praise and vain-glory, than because the belief itself is settled in their minds ; for the very same boasters, exiled from their country, and driven far from the sight of men, disgraced with foul guilt, and afflicted with all calamities, yet still continue to live ; and whithersoiev^r, notwithstanding, the unhappy men have come, they offer sa- crifices to the dead, as if their souls were still in existence, and immolate black cattle, and send oblations to the Dii Manes,

* And since I have shown, ^c] Ver. 31. " Having, in the first and second hooks, stated many particulars concerning atoms, and their figures and motions, he now proposes an exact discussion concern- ing the soul, with a view to deliver men from the fear of death and of punishment after death." Creech,^

• Of their own accord.] Ver. 33.. i. e. By their own weight.

• Driven utterly from our minds.] Ver. 37. PrcBceps agundus. " Elliptically for in prtecepa, as if in prtscipitium." Wakefield,

♦ For the reasons that follow.] Ver. 46. Hinc.

102 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 54-82.

and, in their calamitous circumstances, apply their minds much more zealously to religion than before. For which rea- son, it is more satisfactory to contemplate a person, in order to judge of his character ^ in doubtful dangers, and to learn what he is in adverse circumstances ; since words of truth are then at last elicited from the bottom of the heart, and the mask is taken away, while the reality of the man remains.

Furthermore, avarice, and the blind desire of honours, which drive men to transgress the bounds of right, and some- times, a^ the accomplices and ministers of crimes, to strive night and day, with excessive labour, to rise to the height of power; these fossionSf I say^ which are the wounds and plagties of life, are nourished for the most part by the dread of death. For, in general, infamous contempt, and sharp po- verty, seem removed from a pleasing and secure *tofe of life, and seem to dwell, as it were, before the very gates of de- struction. From which cause, while men, not submitting to die to avoid those evils, but restrained by a false terror of death and its consequences, wish that they may escape far, and re- move themselves to a distance, yrow disgrace and want, they increase their property with civil bloodshed, and greedily double their riches, heaping slaughter on slaughter ; they cruelly re- joice at the sad end of a brother, and hate and dread the tables ^ of their relations.

From the same terror,'^ in like manner, envy often wastes men away; they grieve that he who walks before them in shining honour, should be powerful, should be looked upon with respect ; they complain that they themselves are tossed about in obscurity and dishonour.* Some pine to death for the sake of statues and a name, and often to such a degree from the fear of death, does the hatred of life, and of seeing the light, affect men, that with a despairing mind, they com- mit self-murder ;* forgetting that this fear is the source of all

* Dread the tables, S^c,'] Ver. 73. Through fear of poison.

^ From the same terror.] Ver. 74.^ If men were not afraid of suicide, they might escape from the sight of all that disquiets them.

' Tossed about in obscurity and dishonour.] Ver. 77. In tenebris volvi ctBnogue, In darkness and in dirt.

* To such a degree, commit -flelf-murder.] Ver. 79, seq, " This

strange and inconsistent effect of fear is well commented upon in the following verses of Butler ; who tells us that it will often

Do things not contrary alone To th' force of nature, but its own ;

B. m, 8a-98. LUCRETIUS. 1 03

cares ; ^ that this violates modesty, that this bursts the bonds of friendship; Ms, in fine, prompts mortals to overthrow piety and virtue. For men have often betrayed their country, and their dear parents, while seeking to avoid the regions of Acheron. Since as children tremble,^ and fear every thing in thick darkness, so we, in the light, fear sometimes things which are not more to be feared than those which children dread, and imagine about to happen, in the dark. This terror of the mind, therefore, it is not the rays of the sun, or the bright arrows of day, that must dispel, but the contemplation of nature, and the exercise o/* reason.

First, then^ I say, that the mind, * which we often call the intellect, in which is placed the conduct and government of life, is not less an integral part of man himself , than the hand, and foot, and eyes, are portions of the whole animal.

Although, indeed, a great number of philosophers have

***** For men as resolute appear With too much as too little fear ; • And when they're out of hopes of flying, WiU run awavfrom death by dying,** Good,

Men, rather than live perpetually in fear of the worst, dare the worst

* Forgetting that this fear is the source, a^c.] Ver. 82. ObliH fon- tem curarum hunc ease Hmorem, Forgetful that if they were but to free themselves from this unreasonable dread of death, and of suffer- ings after death, they need not, under any circumstances, be ha- rassed with cares, or driven to cnme. to preserve a miserable existence, but might either terminate their fives at once, without apprehension of consequences, or might endure their afflictions with resolute submission, satisfied that there would be nothing worse to come beyond what they would undergo in this world, and that they might securely withdraw from their troubles whenever they might think fit.

' Since, as children tremble, 4r<^.] Ver. 88. Thepe lines are taken from ii. 55, seq. , and Lucretius was so well pleased with them that they are repeated again, vi. 35. ''Men fear death," says Bacon, (Essay ii.) ''as children fear to go into the dark ; and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other."

* First, then^ I say that the mind, 4f<?.] Ver. 94. Primum animum dicOf mentem quern aape tfocamtu. In quo contilium vita regimenqtte loca^ turn estf Esse hominta partem. Being now about to speak of the mind and soul, his first assertion is, that the mind (animus), which we often call the intellect (mens), and which is the director of life, is not less apart of us than the hand or foot.

104 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 99—119.

thought that the sense of the mind is not placed in any cer- tain part, but is a kind of yital habit or resuUing power of the body, (called by the Greeks a harmony,)^ which causes us to live endowed with a mental sense, though the mind is situate in no particular port of us. As, frequently, when good health is said to be a sensation of the body, and yet this health is itse^ no portion of the person that enjoys health ; so those philosophers place the sense of the mind in no particular part of the person. In which hypothesis they seem to wander far astray. For frequently the body, which is openly seen, is diseased and dejected, while we nevertheless feel pleasure^ in the other part, which is hid within us; and on the other hand again, it often happens that the reverse is the case, when he who is wretched in mind is well in his whole body; just in the same way as if, when the foot of a sick man is pained, his head, in the mean time, happen to be in no pain at all. Besides, when the limbs are resigned to gentle sleep, and the body, heavy ttnth slumber, lies stretched without sense, there is yet something else within us, which, at that very time, is agitated in diverse ways, and admits into itself all the affec- tions of joy, and cdl the empty solicitudes of the heart.

And now, also, that you may he further convinced that the soul is acttmlly one among our members,^ and is not wont to hold or occupy the body as a harmony,^ it happens in the first

^ Harmony.] Ver. 101. Many however have thought otherwise, and some have considered the mind to be a mere efiect of the ar- rangement and combination of the particles of the body ; among whom was Aristoxenus, who, says Cicero, (Tusc. i. 10, 18,) being both a philosopher and^ musician, imagined that the mind was merely a harmony resulting from tne nature and shape of the body, as tunes spring from the consenting motions of musical instruments. The same opinion is noticed and confuted by Aristotle de Anima, i. 4. Allusion is also made to it in Plato's Phaedo.

* Feel pleasure.] Ver. 108. LcBtamur, A little below (yer. 110) I have rendered Qtfom miser ex animo lataiur corpore toto, " is well in his whole body: 'Vfor we can hardly say that he who is toretched in mind rejoices orjeels pleasure in his whole body,

* One among our members.] Ver. 118. In Tnembris. That is, says Lambinus, in numero membrorum, in the number of our members.

* To hold — ^the body as a harmony.] Ver. 119. Neque harmoniam corpus retinere solere. The reader of the Latin may be in doubt whether the construction is Jiarmoniam retinere corpus^ or corpus re- tinere harmoniam, Wakefield and the Delphin editor put it in the

B. III. 120--137. LUCRETIUS. 105

place, you may observe, that, even when much of the body is taken awaj, the life nevertheless often remains in the mem- bers ih(xt are left; ^ and, again, the same life, when a few atoms of the heat of the body have dispersed, and air has been sent forth through the mouth, immediately quits the veins, and relinquishes possession of the bones : so that you may ccmclude from hence, that all particles of the body have not equal parts tmd powers, but that those which are the constituent-atoms of air and quickening heat,^ exercise more influence than others that life may dwell and be retained in the members. The vital heat, therefore, and air, which desert our limbs when dying, are existent in the body itself, and form a part ofit

For which reason, since the nature of the mind and the soul is thus found to exist as a part of man, give back to these philosophers their name of harmony, whether brought down by musicians from lofty Helicon, or whether they themselves took it from any other quarter,^ and transferred it to that object, which then wanted a distinctive appellation. What- soever is the case, let them have it to themselves ; listen thou to the rest of my arguments.

I now affirm that the mind and soul^ are held united with

way in which I have gtven it ; the other commentators say nothing on the point.

* The life — often remains in the members that are left,'] Ver. 121. By life (vita) he intends the soul (anima), which, he says, cannot be a harmony resulting from the whole body, because it remains en- tire, and undiminished in vigour, when the body is no longer whole. It will be seen below, (ver. 232, eeq,,) that he makes tne anima, (or rather the anima and animua conjoined,) which he does not make distinct from the vital power, to consist of heat^ a certain aura, air, and a fowrih substance, to which he g^ves no name, but which is the ori^ of sense and motion in the human frame.

* Qmckening heat.] Ver. 127. CcUidique vaporis. Warm or warm- ing heat. Compare ver. 216.

* From any other quarter.] Ver. 134. Aliunde porro. From any other place else. Porro is equivalent to else or besides,

* I now affirm that the mmd and soul, 4fc.] Ver. 137. He now asserts that the mind and soul form one substance, but that the mind (animus, which is also called consilium and mens, reason and intel- lect) remains seated in the breast, and influences the soul, which is diffiised throughout the l^ody, and which is often itself aflrec1;ed with pleasure or pain, when the soul connected with it is wholly un- moved.

I

106 LUCEETIUS. B. III. 138—168.

one another, and form of themselves one nature or substance; but that thai which is as it were the head, and which rules in the whole body, is the reason, the thinking or intellecitLal part which we call mind and understandiug; and this remains seated in the middle portion of the breast. For here dread and terror throb ; around these parts joys soothe ; here therefore is the understanding and mind. The other part of the soul, or vital power^ distributed through the whole body, obeys, and is moved according to the will and impulse of the mind. And this rational or inteUectttal part thinks of itself alone, and rejoices for itself, at times when nothing of the hind moves either the rest of the soul or the body, ^d as when the head or the eye, when pain affects it, is troubled in us, and as part of us, but we are not afflicted throughout the whole body, so the mind is some- times grieved itself aUmCy and is sometimes excited with joy, when the other part of the soul, diffused through, the limbs and joints, is stimulated by no new sensation. But when the mind is more than ordinarily shaken by violent terror, we see the whole soul, throughout the several members, S3rmpathize with it, and perspirations and paleness, in consequence, arise over the whole body, and the tongue rendered powerless and the voice die away ; while we find the eyes darkened, the ears ringing, and the limbs sinking underneath.

Furthermore, we often see men faint altogether from terror of mind ; so that any one may easily understand from this, that with the mind is united the soul, which, when it has been acted upon by the power of the mind, then influences and affects the body.

This same course of reasoning teaches us that the nature or substance of the mind and soul is corporeal ; ^ for when this nature or substance is seen to impel the limbs, to rouse the body from sleep, and to change the countenance, and to guide and turn about the whole man ; — of which effects we see that none can be produced without touch, and that touch, moreover, cannot take place without body ; — must we not ad- mit that the mind and soul are of ar corporeal nature ?

* The same — reasoning — mind and souT corporeal.] Ver. 162. As the mind and soul act upon the body, they must be corporeal, for nothing but bod^ can act upon body ; fa be asserts, i. 305 : Tan- gere eninif et tanffi, ntai corpus, nulla potest res.

B. ni. 169—183. LUCRETIUS 107

Besides, you see that the mind suffers with the body,^ and sympathizes for us with the body. Thus^ if the violent force of a dart, driven into the hody^ the bones and nerves being di- vided, does not hurt the life itself ^ yet there follows a languor, and a kind of agreeable inclination-to-sink to the ground,^ and when we are on the ground, a perturbation^ and giddiness which is produced in the mind, and sometimes, as it were, an irresolute desire to rise. It therefore necessarily follows that the nature of the mind is corporeal, since it is made to suffer by corporeal weapons and violience.

I shall now proceed to give you a demonstration, in plain words, of what substance this mind is, and of what it consists.

In the first place, I say that it is extremely subtle,^ and is formed of very minute atoms. And you may, if you please^ give me your attention, in order that you may understand clearly that this is so, from the following arguments.^ No- thing is seen to be done in so swift a way,^ as if the mind pro-

* Suffers with the body.] Ver. 169. Fungi eum corpore. Facere et fimgni Bine corpore nulla potest res, i. 444.

• Agfreeableinclination-to-sink-tothe^ ground.] Ver. 173. Terraque petitua auams. Properly a seeking of the ground. He uses a soft kind of expression, says Wakefield, because he does not speak of such injury as takes away all power, but only of such as stupifies the senses ; an effect similar to that which is produced by wine.

• Perturbation.] Ver. 174. ^attu, '* Conturbatio." Lambintu, "Fluctuatio." Wakejield,

* In the first place extremeljr subtle.] Ver. 180. He now

proceeds to show that the soul and mind consist of subtle and fine particles, agreeably to the opinion of Epicurus, who calls the soul AtTTTOfupkQ awfia. and says that it consists of atoms not very dissimi- lar to tnose of nre.

* From the following arguments.] Ver. 182. Hinc,

• Nothing is seen to be done in so swift a way, S^c.'] Ver. 183.

Nil adeo fieri celeri ratione videtur.

Quam si mens fieri proponit, et incnoat ipsa.

This seems to be but a cumbrous and circuitous way of expressing that nothing is so active as thougM, Good has it,

nought so swiftly speeds As what the mind determines and completes.

Creech contents himsell with

no action is so swiftly done As what the mind begins.

Busby is very spirited, to show how Lucretius ought to have ex- pressed himseli :

108 LUCRETIUS. b. hi. 184—214.

poses it to be done, and itself undertakes it. The mind, therefore, impels itself more speedily than any thing, amonff aU those of which the nature is manifestly seen before our eyes. But that which is so exceedingly active, must consist of atoms exquisitely round and exquisitely minute ; that they may be moved, when acted on, by a slight impulse. For water is moved, and flows, with so trifling a force as we see act upon it, inasmuch as it is composed of voluble and small particles. But the substance of honey, on the other hand, is more dense, and its fluid sluggish, and its movement more tardy ; ^ for its whole mass of material-particles cHngs more closelj together ; because, as is evident, it consists of atoms neither so smooth, nor so small and round. For a gentle and light breeze can make a tall heap of poppy-seed waste away, from the top to the bottom, before your eyes; but» on the con- trary, can have no stich effect u^n a heap of stones and darts; particles, therefore, according as they are most diminutive^ and most smooth, have also the greatest facility of motion. But, on the other hand, whatever particles are found of a greater weight, and rougher surface, are so much the more fixed and difficult to move.

Since, therefore, the nature of the mind has been found pre- eminently active, it must of necessity consist of particles ex- ceedingly diminutive, and smooth, and round. Which point, being thus known to you, my excellent friend, will be found useful, and be of advantage, in many of i/our future in- quiries.

This fact alsp indicates the nature of the soul, and shows of how subtle a texture it consists, and in how small a space it would contain itself, if it could be condensed; because, when the tranquil repose of death has taken possession of a man, and the substance of the mind and the soul has departed, you can there perceive nothing detracted as to appearance.

Attend : this potent truth thou 'It well perceive ; For what its point so swiftly can achieve As mind ? In boundless nature what can vie With its unlimited velocity ?

' Movement more tardy.] Ver. 193. CunctanUor (tctitts. " Actus : i. e.motus. Festus, ** Actus aigniAcat — moftim corporis." Wakefield.

' According as they are most diminutive, ^c] Ver. 200. Par- viasima pro quam et Uvisaima sunt, Comp. ii. 1136. The Lexicons supply no other instances ofpro quam but these two.

B. III. 216— 283. . LUCRETIUS. 109

nothing as to weight, from the whole body. Death leaves all things entire,^ except vital sense and quickening he^t.^

It must therefore necessarily be t^e case, that the whole soul consists of extremely small seminal-atoms, connected and diffused throughout the veins, the viscera, and the nerves ; inasmuch as, when the whole of it has departed from the whole of the body, the extreme outline of the members still shows itself unaltered, nor is an atom of weight withdrawn ;' just as is the case when the aroma of wine has flown off, or when the sweet odour of ointment has p&ssed away into the air, or when the flavour has departed from any savoury sub- stance ;^ for still the substance itself does not, on that account, appear diminished to the eye, nor does any thing seem to have been deducted from the weight ; evidently because many and minute atoms compose the flavour and odour throughout the whole constitution of bodies.

Wherefore again and again / say, you may feel assured that the nature or substance of the mind and soul is produced from exquisitely small seminal-atoms, since, when it escapes from the hody^ it carries away no weight with it.

Nor yet is this nature or substance to be regarded by us as simple and uncompounded. For a certain subtle aura^ mixed

* Death leaves all things entire.] Ver. 215. Mor» omnia prastat. " Mors omnia relmquit Integra." Lambimu, ** Facit ne quid detri- menti m mole corporis appareat." Faber,

' Quickening heat.] Ver. 217. Calidumque vaporem. Compare ver. 127.

* Nor is an atom of weight withdrawn.] Ver. 221. Necd^pon- deris hikim, '* Hilum they consider to be that which adheres to a beau," (as we say, the black of a bean^ " from which comes nihil and nihUvm" Fettua, *' The ancients used hHum for vUumy any (small) thing." Priadan, b. vi. p. 687.

* Flavour has departed from any aavoury substance.] Ver. 224. SuctM de corpore cessit, Suctu, or ntcciu, is evidently here nothing more than flavour; as, probably^ in Hor. Sat. ii. 4,^ 70, Picenis cedunt pomis Tiburtia succo. The reader, I fear, will hardly be- lieve me, when I tell him that Good translates it,

From man Th' excreted lymph exhales.

* Subtle aura.'] Ver. 233. Tenuis aura. I have thought it better to preserve the word aura in the English, than to render it by t>a- pour, or, as Good has it, " gas.** A few verses below, Lucretius calls it venti coca potettaa.

110 LUCilETIUS. B. III. 234— 266.

with heat, leaves dying persons; the heat, moreover, carries air with it ; nor is there any heat with which air is not also mixed ; since, as its^ substance is rare, many atoms of air must necessarily be borne with it

The ^bstance of the mind is now therefore found to be triple. Nor yet are all these constituent parts, aura, heat, and air, sufficient to produce mental sense or power; since the mind admits none of these to be able to generate sensible motions, such as revolve any thoughts in the mind. A certain fourth nature, or substance,^ must therefore necessarily be added to these ; this is wholly without a name ; it is a sub- stance, however, than which nothing exists more active or more subtle, nor is any thing more essentially composed of small and smooth elementary particles; and it is this substance which first distributes sensible motions through the members. For, being formed of small atoms, it is itself first excited ; then the heat, and the secret power of the aura, receive motion from it; next the air, and afterwards all parts, are quick- ened ; the blood is agitated, and all the viscera partake-in-the- sensation ; and (whether it be pleasure, or whether it be the contrary feeling) it is communicated to the bones and marrow last ofall» Nor can pain easily penetrate, or any violent evil spread, so far as this, without all parts being perturbed : so that, in such a case, room is wanting for life, and the particles of the soul fly off through all the passages of the body. But on the surface of the body, as it were, a limit is generally put to sensible motions ; and from this cause we have the power to retain life within us.

And now, though I would fain give a full exposition, in what manner these principles are mixed one with another, and^how, being arranged, they possess vigour, the poverty of my native tongue restrains me against my will ; but notwith- standing, as far as I shall be able to treat of these subjects summarily, I will touch upon them.

For the primordial-atoms, by the motion of the elements among themselves, so actively-intermingle in the substance of the soul, that no one 'can be separated from the rest, nor can their power become divided by any interval, but, being many,

* A certain fourth nature, or substance.'] Ver. 242. Quarta quadam natura. The reader now understands Lucretius*s composition of the soul. See note on ver. 121.

B. HI. 287—297. LUCRETIUS. 1 1 1

tliej are, as it were, the power of a single body. As, in the herd of animals, whicfasoever you would inspect,^ there is a certain odour, and heat, and taste ; and still from all these is composed one mass and combination of body. So heat, and air, and the secret power of aura, and that other active force, (which communicates the beginning of motion from itself to the other three, whence a sensible movement first arises through the viscera,^) being mixed, produce one nature or sub' stance. For this fourth principle lies entirely hid, and re- mains in secret, within ; nor is any thing more deeply seated within our body ; and it is itself, moreover, the soul of th^ whole souL As the force of the mind, and the power of the soul, mixed up with our limbs and entire body, remains latent, because it is composed of small and few atoms, so this name- less force, compounded of small particles, lies concealed, and is besides, as it were, the very soul of the whole soul, and rules throughout the whole body. In like manner, it must be the case that the aura, and air, and heat, mixed throughout the limbs, possess-their-vigour one with another ; and that one may possibly subside at times, or become prominent, more than the rest ; but so that they may still seem to be one prin- ciple compounded of them all ; and that the heat and aura by themselves, or the power of air by itself, may not, being se- parated from the whole, destroy and dissipate the sense.

There is also that heat in the mind, which it assumes in anger, when it bums, and ardour gleams vividly from the eyes. There is also much cold aura^ the attendant of fear, with which it produces shivering throughout the various mem- bers, and agitates the limbs. There is also that state of the air when at rest, which happens in concurrence with a tranquil breast and serene countenance. But in those animals, whose fierce hearts, and angry feelings, easily bum in wrath, there is more heat; in which class especially is the violent fury of

* As, in the herd of animals, whichsoever you would inspect.] Ver. 267. QiMd gentu^ in quo via animantvm viaere vttlgo. Quod genus is the same as guemadmodum; on which point the reader may con- sult Wakefield on this verse, and on iv. 739. The same words occur a little below, ver. 277 and 328. " In quo vis animantum yisere vulgo," says Wakefield, " is in vulgjo animantum, quo vis visere, i. e. quemcunque animantem velis mtueri." The editions before Wakefield reaa in quovia — viacere, which Lachmann has recalled.

' Viscera.] Ver. 273. Viacera meant aU porta under the akin, except bone. See on i. 836.

112 LUCRBTIUS. b. hi. 298—323.

lions, which, raging, often burst, as it werCy their hearts with roaring, nor can contain within their breasts their torrents of ire. But the cold temperament of deer has more of the aura in it, and sooner excites a chill influence through the viscera, which cause a tremulous motion to arise in the limbs. But the nature of the ox subsists more on calm air, nor does the smoky torch of wrath, appHed to him,^ ever irritate him to fury like that of the liofiy suffusing him with a shade of thick darkness ;^ nor is he torpid, transfixed with the cold darts of aura; but is situate between the two natures, those of deer and fiercer Uons.

Thus is the race of men. £cu;h has a certain temperament; and though instruction may in a manner render some in- dividuals polished, it still leaves the first traces of the nature of every mind ; nor is it to be thought that vices can be so plucked out by the root, but that one man will run more readily than another into violent anger ; a second will be af- fected somewhat sooner than another by fear ; while a third wiU regard certaiB things more mdulgently than is right. And in many other respects the various natures, and yielding man- ners of men, must necessarily differ ; of which differences I cannot now explain the secret causes, nor find so many names for figures as there are diversities of shape in the atoms from which this variety in things arises.

Bfit, with reference to these subjects, I think myself compe- tent to affirm this ; that so small are the traces left of the natural principles, which reason cannot remove^ by her dictates, that nothing hinders men from leading a life worthy of the gods.

* Nor does the smoky torch of wrath, applied to him, ^c] Ver. 304. Nee minus irai fax nunguam subdita percit Fumida, There seems scarcely any possibility of extracting satisfactory sense from this line, unless by considering minus nunguam equal to unquam; and this construction I have adopted. Lambinus read^ nee nimis irai fax unquam; and had Lachmann, who follows Lambmus, and who in other places animadverts severely on Wakefield and Forbiger, said that nobody but they could thmk this verse in a right state, most readers would surely have agreed with him. The meaning is evident ; that the oi may be excited, but not to the same degree as the lion.

* Suffusing — darkness.] Ver. 305. Sujffundens cocas califfinisumbram.

* So small are the traces left of the natural principles, which rea- son cannot remove.] Ver. 321.

Usque ade5 naturarum vestigia linqui Parvola, quse nequeat ratio depellere dictis.

B. m. 324—861. LUCRETIUS. 113

«

This mental nature, therefore,^ or compound intellectual substance, is contained in every body, and is itself the guardian of the body, and the cause of its safety ; for the two, the body and soul, cohere, as it were, by common roots, with one another, nor seem capable of being torn asunder without destruction to both. For as it is impossible to s^arate the perfume from balls of frankincense, without the nature of it, at the same time, being destroyed, so it is impossible to ex- tract the nature or substance of the mind and soul from the whole body, without aU parts being dissolved; with such closely interwoven elements, from their first origin, are they endowed with common life ; nor does the power of the body or mind seem capable of having-perception apart, each for it- self, without the vigour of the other ; but the sentient-power lighted up through our viscera is conjointly- produced by their common motions one with the other.^

Besides, the body is never produced,^ nor ever grows, by itself ; nor is it observed to retain-its-existence after death, or the departure of the soul from it. Foi; it is not as when the liquid-substance of water frequently throws off heat, which hns been communicated to it, nor is on that account dispersed itself; — not so, I say, can the limbs, when deserted by the sotd, bear the separation of the soul from them, but, thus divided from it, altogether perish and rot. For the mutual inter-con- nexions of the soul and the corporeal frame, from the very be- ginning of life, even in the body and secret woml) of the mother, so acquire the vital movements together, that a separation cannot take place without destruction and damage to each ; so that you may see that, since their means of preservation are united, the nature and substance of them must also be united.

For what remains to be considered, if any one denies that

The Delphin editor explains naturarum to signify hetit, air, and atmt, of which (with the fourth, or reason) the soul and n^ind consist. Some, as Lambinus observes, would read natural.

* This mental nature, thereiore, ^c] Ver. 324. " This nature, com- posed of the four above-mentioned substances." Lambiniu,

* Common motions one with the other.] Ver. 336. Communibus inier eo8 — utrinque motibus, Utrinque: proceeding from both. The fourth substance of the* mind, however, is the prime mover, ver. 246.

» Besides, the body is never produced, 4rM Ver. 338.' Prceterea corpus per se nee gignitur unquam, " The body, whether of man, or of any other animal.'^ Lambinus,

11| LUCRETIUS. B. III. 352— 371.

the body has sense, and believes that the soul, mixed with the entire body, takes wholly upon itself that motion which we call sense; he contends against manifest and certain facts. For who will ever explain what it is for the body to have sense, if it he not that which experience itself has manifestly shown and taught us ? But the soul being set free from the bodyy the body is void of sense in all parts : for it loses that which was not peculiar to itself in any period of its life ; and it besides loses many things as the soul is-being-expelled by age,^

To affirm, moreover, that the eyes^ themselves can see no object, but that the mind merely looks through them as through open doors, is difficult ; when the sense of these eyes leads to a contrary opinion; for the sense of the eyes draws the mmd? and attracts it from within^ to the sights or pupils themselves. While, let it especially be considered^ we are often unable to Jook at bright objects, because our eyes are prevented by their effiilgence ; which is not the case with regard to mere doors ; for mere open doors, where we look through, do not feel any inconvenience. Besides, if our eyes are only instead of doors, the mind, when the eyes are ta^ken out, atid the door-posts themselves, so to speak^ removed, seems bound to see even ;nore clearly than before.

Qn these points, you can by no means assume as true^ that

^ And it besides loses many things as the soul is-being-expelled by age.] Ver. 359. Mtdtaque praterea perdit^ quum expeUitur €bvo. I have interpreted this line according to Wakefield, who, however, reads dum. The soul loses some portion of her faculties, as the body decays, and is about to part from her. Forbiger, thinking that the verse may be spurious, mcludes it in brackets. Lachmann g^ves nullaque, from conjecture.

' To affirm, moreover, that the eyes, ^c] Ver. 360. Dicere porro oetdosy &c. There were some who thought that the whole body did not possess or exercise sense, but the mmd only, which, residing in the body, saw and heard, Sjc,, through the organs of it; among whom was Epicharmus, who used to say the mind sees, the mind hears. Creech,

' For the sense of the eyes draws the mind, S^c.'] Ver. 363. Senstts enim trahit, atque acies detncdit ad ipsas, " The sense of the eyes, struck with external objects, calls forth the mind to the pupils of the eyes, so that, the powers of the mind and the eye being united, the faculty of vision may arise from their combination." Wakejield.

* On these })oints, you can by no means assume as true, S^c'] Ver. 371« Democritus taught that the atoms of the soul, and those of

B. III. 872—397. LUCRETIUS. ,1 1 5

which the divine opiDion of the philosopher Democritus lays down ; namely^ that the several atoms of the hodj and mind, applied and corresponding each to each, vary and connect the members.' For not only are the atoms of the soul much more diminutive than those of which our body and viscera consist, but are also inferior in number, and are distributed thinly, with spaces between them, throughout the limbs ; so that you may safely warrant that 'the primary particles of the soul occupy, cmd are distributed at those intervab only, at which corporeal atoms cast upon us, and striking- against us, may, if of sufficient gravity, be able to excite sensible motions through the body, the concussions being communicated from the surface to the internal parts. For neither at times do we perceive the adhesion of dust on the body, nor feel powdered chalk, shaken over the limbs, settle on them ; nor do we feel a mist at night, nor the subtle threads of the spider's web meeting us, when we are entangled in them as we go along ; nor do we notice the old vesture of the same spider fall upon our head, nor feathers of birds, or thcflying down of thistles, which, from extreme lightness, generally fall with difficulty, and strike but gently the object on which they fall; nor do we observe the progress of every creeping animal, nor every first step of the feet, which gnats and other such insects place upon ' our body ; so many particles in us must be moved, before the primordial-atoms of the soul, mixed throughout the limbs in our bodies, can feel-the-sensation, and, impelling one another, (at how great intervals !) can, in succession, strike together^ meet, and rebound.

And the mind is more efficient in holding the bars of life,^

the body, were equal in number, and were united, atom ta atom, throughout the whole human frame. But this cannot be true, savs Lucretius ; for, if it were, whatever might touch any atom on the surface of the body, however lightly, would agitate the correspond- ing atom* of the mind; whereas many substances touch the body without the mind being sensible of the contact

* Connect the members.] Ver. 874. Neetere membra. " So unit« them, that they may haVe motions in common^ and conspire one with another." Wakejield.

' Corporeal atoms, cast upon us, ^.'] Ver. 879. Prima corpor4t n€)bi8 injecta. *' Atoms so casting themselves upon us, and striking ^g^ainst us, as to produce sensible motions in the body, by arousing ^He ijower of the mind to its duty." Wakefield,

' And the mind is more efficient in holoing the bars of life, 4r^;l

I 2

116 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 398—421.

and more prevalent to preserve vitality, than the power of the soul. For without the understanding and mind no part of the soul can have-its-residence in the body even for a small portion of time ; but when the mind takes its departure^ the soul readily follows as its companion, and leaves the chilled limbs in the cold of death. But he to whom understanding and mind have remained, contitiues in life, although he be mutilated^ with his limbs even cut off on all sides. The trunk, though portions of the soul be taken away around it, and it he separated from the limbs, still lives, and inhales the vital air ; — deprived, if not altogether, yet in a great measure, of the soul, it still delays and <;ontinues in life. So when the eye is la- cerated round about, if the pupil has remained uninjured, the vivid faculty of seeing survives ; hut this is only provided you do not injure the entire ball of the eye, but merely cut round the pupil, and leave that alone whole; for such injury cannot be committed without destruction of the eyes; but, if the very smallest part of the middle of the ball is perforated, though the bright orb he otherwise unharmed, the sight is at once lost, and darkness follows. With such a connexion the soul and the mind are constantly united.

And now attend. That thou mayest understand ^ that living creatures have minds, and subtle souls, born and perishable^ I will proceed to arrange verses worthy of thy life and vir- tues, ^ verses collected during a long time, and prepared with

Ver. 397. Et magis est animus vita'i claustra coercens. As he has placed the mind (animtis) in the breast, and distributed the soul (anima) through the whole body, he now shows that though part of the soul may, by mutilation of the body, be taken away, life, as long as the mind remains uninjured, will still be preserved ; just as the sight of the eye will continue perfect, as long as no damage is done to the pupil.

- And now attend. That thou mayest understand, 4f<^.] Ver. 418. He now proceeds, with all the force of reasoning that he can collect, to show that the united substance of the mind and soul is born, grows, decays^ and dies, together with the body. In this process he uses, as he gives notice, the words mind and soul indiscriminately. Creech distinguishes the whole demonstration into eight and twenty argu- ments ; Eichstadt into six and twenty. We may rather consider the first twenty as the real and positive arguments, and regard the re- maining six as additional observations, I shall notice the different head^, as we proceed, at the commencement of each paragraph.

* Worthy of thy life and virtues."] Ver. 421. Digna tua carmina vita. " Worthy of thy life and conduct, whom the Muse has wiUed

B. III. 422-436. LUCRETIUS. 117

sweet labour. And thou, wiy friend, take care to include both of them under one name, whichsoever of the two I may use ; and, for example, when I proceed to speak of the soul, teaching that it is mortal, suppose that I also speak of the min^ ; inasmuch as they are one by mutual combination, and their substance is united.

In the first place, since I have shown ^ that the soul, being subtle, consists of minute particles, and is composed of much smaller atoms than the clear fluid of water, or mist, or smoke ; (for it far surpasses those bodies in susceptibility-of-motion, and is more readily impelled when acted upon from a slight cause ; inasmuch as both the mind and soul are moved by the mere images of smoke and mist ;^ as when, lulled in sleep, we see high altars exhale with vapour, and carry up smoke; since doubtless these phantasms are produced in us;)^ now, therefore, J say, since, when vessels are broken to pieces, you see water flow about, and any other liquid run away;

at aU Hmes to excel, being graced with every ffift,** Wakefield, See L 27, 28.

* In the first place, since I have shown, 4rc.] Ver. 425. This is his Jirst arffument. Since the soul is more subtle than vapour or smoke, it must surely be sooner dissipated than those lignt sub- stances, when it is once set free fcpm tne body that confines it,

' Inasmuch as both the mind, and soul are moved by the mere images of smoke and mist.] Ver. 431. Quippe ubi imagin^ua fumi nebulajue moventur, " Quippe ubi," says Lambinus, " is gvippe quia, or quippe ct)m." Moventttr, m the plural, is the reading of Wakefield, to include the mind and the soul ; but, as Lachmann remarks, it is absurd, since Lucretius considers the two as one ; other copies have movetur. As to the imagines in the mind, says Tumebus, (Advers. XX. 26,) Lucretius means that *^ the atoms of the mina are finer than those of smoke and mist, since they are moved even by the images and Hmulacra of smoke and mist." " A pleasant argument," says Faber ; '* the images of smoke and mist move the mind ; there- fore it must be very light."

• Since doubtless these phantasms are produced in us.l Ver. 434. Nam proctd hoc dubio nobis simulacra genuntur, ** Procul dubio ista- rum rerum phantasmata per simulachra in nobis excitantur." Creech. Lucretius, with his master, Epicurus, thought that the imaffes thrown ofi* from objects (as snown in book iv.) flying about in the air, and coming in contact with our bo^es, produced such impressions upon the soul as to excite dreams. "For without images," says Lambinus, ** Epicurus supposed that nothing could be seen, or thought, or dreamed." Incahibessit, at the end of the paragraph, (ver. 445,) I have rendered as the present.

1 18 LUCRETIUS* b. hi. 437—464.

and since, cdso, mist and smoke disperse into the air ; you must conclude that the soul is likewise scattered abroad, and is dissipated much sooner than mist and smoke^ and more i easily resolved into its original elements, when it has once been withdrawn from the body of a man, and has taken its def^ar-* ttire. For how can you believe that this soul can be held together by any combination ^air, when the body itself (which is, as it were, its vessel) cannot contain it, t^ i^ ^ convulsed by any violence, or rendered thin and weah by blood being taken from the veins ? How can that air which is more rare than our body confine it ?

Besides,(we observe that the mind is produced^ together with the body, and grows up along with it, and waxes old at the same time toith it. For as children wander and totter about with a weak and tender body, so the subtle sense of the mind follows and corresponds to the weakness of their frame^ Then, when their age has gro>7n up in robust vigour, their understanding is also greater, and their strength of mind more enlarged. Afterwards, when the body is shakea by the prevailing power of time, and, the strength being depressed^ the limbs have sunk into infirmity, the understanding then halts, the tongue apd the mind lose their sense, all parts fail and fade away at onceT] It is therefore natural that the whole substance of the soul should ba dissolved, as smoke, into the sublime air of heaven ; since we see that it is produced toge-« ther with the body, and grows up together with ity and both, as I have shown, overcome by age, decay in concert.

To this is added,* that as we observe the body itself to- be-subject-to violent diseases and severe pain, so we see the mind to be susceptible of sharp cares, and grief, and fear. For which cause it is reasonable that it should also be a par- taker of death.

Moreover the mind, in diseases of the body, often wanders

* Besides, we observe that the mind is produced, S^c^l Ver. 446. The second argument. Since the mind appears tender when the body is tender; mature, when the body is mature; and declining, when the body is declining ; it is but fair to conclude, that it perishes when the body perishes.

' To this is added, 4^.] Ver. 460. The third argument. Since, when the body is weakened by disease, the mind or soul is weaken- ed with it, must we not conclude that, when the body dies, the mind or soul dies wi^ it ?

B. III. 466-490. LUCRETIUS. 119

distracted ; for it loses its faculties, and utters senseless words ; and sometimes, by a heavy lethargy, is borne down into a deep and eternal sleep, the eyes and the nodding-head sink- ing ; ^ hence it neither hears the voice, nor can distinguish the countenances, of those who stand around recalling it to )[ife, bedewing their faces and cheeks with tear£) Wherefore you must necessarily admit that the mind is also dissolved, since the contagion of disease penetrates into it. For pain and disease are each the fabricator of death ; a trtUh which we have been taught by the destruction of many millions in past times.

Further, when the violent power of wine ^ has penetrated the heart of men, and its heat, being distributed, has spread into the veins, a heaviness of the limbs follows, the legs of the tottering person are impeded, the tongue grows torpid, the mind is, as it were, drowned ; the eyes swim ; noise, hiccups,^ and quarrels arise, and other things of this kind, whatever are consequent on intoxication. Why do these effects happen, unless because the vehement force of the wine has exerted- it3-cu8tomary-power to disturb the soul as it is dffused through the body itself? But whatsoever things can be thus disturbed and obstructed in their operations^ show, that if a cause somewhat stronger shall spread within them^ the conse- quence will be that they must perish, deprived of all future existence.>

Moreover, frequently, overcome by the force of disease,^ a person suddenly falls down before our eyes, as if struck by the blow of a thunder-bolt, and foams at the mouthy groans, and trembles in his joints, loses his senses, stretches his nerves to rigiditt/y is distorted, pants with irregular breathing^ and

' The eyes and the nodding-head sinking.] Ver. 467. OcuUa^ nu- tuque cadenti, " By nutus cadena nothing more seems to be signified than the dejection or sinking down of the head." Lambintis,

' Further, when the violent power of wine, ^cj] Ver. 475. The fourth argument* Since intoxicating power, such as that of wine, can disturb the soul, why may not a stronger force utterly de^ stroy it ?

» Hiccups.] Ver. 479, SingvUuSy Jurgia gliscunt, " Hiccough^ noise, and strife.'* Good,

* Moreover, frequently, overcome by the force of disease, ^.] Ver. 486. The Jlfth argument. Since the soul, in a case of morbu9 comitialis, or falling sickness, is torn and distracted, why may it not, at death, be dtogether dissolved and dispersed t

120 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 491-615.

wearies Iiis limbs with tossing about ; evidently because the violence of the malady, dispersed throughout the body, and acting upon the soul, perturbs it, as the waves, on the foaming salt ocean, boil with the strong fury of the winds. Groans are then forced out, because the limbs arQ seized with pain, and especially because the particles of the voice are drawn forth, and carried, collected in a body^ out of the mouth, the way by which they have, as it were, been accustomed topass, and where the course of the road is paved ^br them} Loss of understand- ing takes place, because the united power of the mind and soul is disturbed, and, as I have shown, is divided and rent asunder, distracted by that same distemper. Afterwards, when the cause of the disease has given way, and the violent humour of the disordered body has retired into its hiding-place, then, as if staggering, iS^ej^er^on^first rises, and, by degrees, returns to all his senses, and re-possesses the right state of his soul.

When these substances^ therefore, the tnind and the soul, are shaken with such powerful diseases in the body itself, and suffer, distracted in such miserable ways, why do you conceive that the same mind and soul can support an existence with- out a body, in the open air, and amidst strong winds ?

And since we see that the mind may be healed,^ like a sick body, and wrought upon by means of medicine, this also sig- nifies that the mind exists only as a mortal substance. For whoever attempts,, and commences, to change the mind, or to alter any other nature or substance ^ whatsoever, it is requi- site either that he add new parts, or transpose the parts in a new order, or take away at least some small portion from the whole. But any substance, which is immortal, neither allows

' The course of the road is paved for them.'] Ver. 497. Sunt mvnita viai. The expression seemed so strange to Lambinus, that he wished to cancel the whole verse, but, as it seems, without rea- son. We say of a man who drinks very not liquids, that hia throat must be paved.

* And since we see that the mind may be healed, ^c] Ver. 509. The sixth argwnent. Since the mind, wnen affected by sickness, is restored, like the body in the same case, by medicine, must we not suppose that the mina is mortal like the body ?

* To alter any other nature or substance.'^ Ver. 515. Aliam guam' vis naturam flectere. The Delphin editor Yightly interprets vuxtwram^ ''rem," or substance ; a signification which it often has, as well in Lucretius as in Cicero and other philosophical writers. Flectere, to alter by restoring and improving.

B. III. 61&-634. LUCRETIUS. 121

its parts to be transposed, nor to-be-increased-by-addition, nor permits an atom to pass away from them. For whatever, being changed, goes beyond^ its own limits, this change is forthwith the death or termination of that which it was before.

The mind, therefore, whether it be diseased, or whether it be wrought upon by medicine, exhibits, as I have demonstrated, mortal symptoms: so far is the force of true reason seen to oppose false ^ reasoning^ and to cut off escape from him who sYaiukB from its conclusions, and to overthrow what is wrong by a double refutation.

Furthermore, we often see a man decay by degrees,^ and lose his vital power in one limb after another, (hi the feet we observe the toes and nails first grow livid ; then the feet themselves and ihe legs mortify ; afterwards, throughout the .other limbs, we perceive the traces of cold death thence pro- ceed step by step.^ And since the substance of the soul is thus divided, and does not continue, always and at the same time, entire and unimpaired, it must be deemed mortal. But if perchance you think that the sovl can itself contract itself internally throughout the limbs, and condense its parts into one plcu:e, and thus withdraw feeling from all the members

* For whatever, being changed, goes beyond, 4rc.] See i. 378, 875 ; ii. 761.

' So far is the force of true reason seen to oppose false, S^cJ] Ver. 522.

Usque adeo falsse rationis vera videtur

Res occurrere, et effugium prsecludere eunti,

Ancipitiqiie refutatu convincere falsum.

The construction, according to Wakefield, is V&ra res rationis videtur occurrere falsa (ret rationis), Lambinus's reading, rationi, is much more simple : i. e. res vera, fact, experience, is seen to oppose /ab<B rationi, false reasoning. Eunti, i. e. effugienH, him that attempts to escape. Ancipiti refutatu, viz. both by falling sick and growing well* ' Furthermore, we often see a man decay by degrees, i^c,] Ver. 525. The seventh argument. Since the body oRen dies by degrees, limb by limb, must we n9t suppose that the soul, which is resident in it, dies gradually with it ? How can we suppose that a soul, ap- .parently decaying with a body partially simk in death, can be des- tined to live for ever in full vigour?

* Afterwards thence proceed step by step.] Ver. 528. Post

inde per artus Ire alios tractim — . Post, says Wakefield, refers to the lapse of time, inde to the spread of the disease. Tractim is sese tra^ hendo, dragging itself along slowly. — And does not continue, ^e.j Nee uno Tempore sincera exisHt. '* Nee eodem tempore tota sincera, integra, et incorrupta invenitur." Creech, '

122 LUCRETIUS. B. HI. 535—558.

successively, yet, in such a case, that place in which so great a mass of soul is collected, ought to seem in possession of greater feeling. But since this place of such increased feeU ing is no wh^re apparent, the soul, as we said before, is evidently, being separated-into-parts, scattered abroad, and therefore perishes.

Moreover, if we even consent to grant that which is false, and to allow that the soul may be ihus concentrated in the bodies of those who leave light and life hy djring part after part, you must still con^ss that the soul is mortal ; for neither is it of any importance whether it perishes, being scattered throughout the air, or loses its sense when drawn together from being dispersed in its several parts, ^ when animation steals away from the whole man more and more on all sides, and less and less of life is every where left.

And as the mind is one single part ^ of a man, and remains fixed in a certain place, as the ears and eyes are, and the other organs of aense, whatsoever govern life; and as the hand, and the eye or nose, when detached from us, cannot, separately of themselves, have sensation or even existence, for, when cut off, they are in a short time wasted with putrefaction; so the mind cannot, of itself, exist without the body and the man himself, which body seems to be, as it were, its vessel, or whatsoever else you would imagine to be more closely united with it, since it adheres to the body by connexion.

Further, the animated powers of the body and mind^ are vigorous, and enjoy life, only when joined with one another ;

* Drawn together from betng diiperaed in its several parts.] Ver. 544. Contracta suis ^ partibua. Loses its sense, obbrtUescat, Festus cites from Afranius, non possum verbum facere ; obrtOui; for obbrtUui, I have grown dull and stupid.

• And as the mind is one single part, ^c] Ver. 547. The eiffhth argument. Since the mind is part of a man, like any other member or organ, as already shown (ver. 94) ; and since any other member or organ cannot exercise its functions, or even preserve its existence, ^ if separated from the body, how can we suppose that the mind dif-^ fers from them in this respect?

' Further, the animatea powers of the body and mind, 4r^.] Ver. 557. The ninth argument. The mind and body united together, enjoy life, but when they are disjoined, the body dies, and are we not to suppose that the soul dies also? Can we imagine that it pre- serves its existence in the^air ? At the commencement of the para- graph I have altered ^^M^cM into "powers/'

B. ui. 669— 579c LUCRETIUS. 123

•

for neither can the nature or substance of the mind, without the body, alone, and of itself, produce vital motions ; nor again, can the body, deprived of the soul, continue its state of existence, and use its faculties. Just, for example,^ as the eje itself^ torn from its.roots^ can discern no object apart from the whole body, so the mind or soul seems to have no power in itself; evidently because when mingled throughout the veins and viscera, throughout the nerves and bones, they are held-in-close-confinement by the whole body, and their primary.particles, not being free, cannot fly asunder to great distances ; consequently, being thus confined, they move with sensitive motions, with which, after death, when cast forth beyond the body into the air of heaven, they cannot move ; for this very reason, that they are not held-confined in a si- milar manner. For surely the air forms body and soul,^ if the soul shall be able to keep itself together in the air, and to contain itself for exerting those motions, which it before exercised amidst the nerves, and in the body itself. On which account, 1 say again and again, you must necessarily admit that when the whole enclosure of the body is dissolved^ and the vital breath cast forth, the sentient-existence of the mind and the soul is dissolved ; since there is common cause and like fate to both.

Besides, when the body cannot bear the dissociation ^ of the

* Just, for example, ^c] Ver. 562. Scilicet, — Ver. 564. " Mind or soul seems:" anima atque cutimtts — videtur, — Ver. 665. ''when mingled :" mtar^zw.

' For surely the air forms body and soul, ^c.] Ver. 572. Corpus atque animam serit aer, si cohibere sese animal atque in eos poterit concludere motus'&cc. The serit is Wakefield's; Lambinus and his followers have corpus eftim atque animans erit aer; on which Lambinus very judiciously comments thus: "If the atoms of the soul, when in the open air, can keep themselves together, and pro- duce the same motions as when they were in the body, the air will then be both a body and a living creature; but this is absurd, there- fore, 4rc." But this did not satisfy Wakefield, who, finding in cer- tain manuscripts serit, transferred it to his text, with an exposition which I shall leave in his own Latin. " Aer est, qui serit (vel gig- nit * * .* ) corpus et animam, (i. e. animantem ex utroque compo- situm) si in aere se continere possit (anima) atque ab aere cohiberi : nihil simplicius et luculentlus. Forbiger of course dutifully followed. But Lachmann has verv wisely reinstated the reading of Lambinus*

' Besides, when the body cannot bear the dissociation, ^c.] Ver. 579. The tenth argument. Since, on the separation of the soul and

124 LUCRETIUS, B. III. 580--603.

soul, without putrifying with offensive odour, why do you doubt but that the essence of the soul, rising from the depths and innermost part of the body, has passed forth, and has been diffused abroad like smoke ? and that for this reason the body, decaying with so great a dissolution, has utterly fallen away, because the foundations ^ have been removed from their place, and the spirits pass out through the limbs, and through all the windings of the passages and ducts that are in the body ? So that you may understand from many considerations, that the nature or substance of the soul, being disparted, has gone out through the members of the body, and that it was disse- vered within the body itself, before, gliding outwards, it flowed forth into the air of heaven.

Moreover, whilst the soul dwells within the bounds^ of life, it yet frequently, when it has received a shock from some cause, seems to pass away, and presents the appearance that the mind is let loose from the whole body ; and the counte- nance then seems to become inanimate as at the last hour, and aU the relaxed members to fail the languid frame. Such is the case, when it is said that the mind ha« been damaged,^ or the vital power has suffered-syncope ; while all is trepidation, and all are anxious to recover the last link of life. For then all the mind, and power of the soul, are shaken ; and these, it is evident, sink with the body itself ; so that a cause of some- what greater force may bring them to dissolution.

Why then do you doubt, but that, at the hour of death, the soul dnven forth at length, weak and helpless, out of the body,

body, the body falls to pieces, why should we conceive that the soul remains entire?

* Foundations, ^c] Ver. 584. Mota loco sunt Fundamenta.

' Moreover, whilst the soul dwells within the bounds, ^c] Ver. 591. The eleventh argument. In a fainting fit we see the soul de- prived of its powers even while it yet remains in the body ; and now is it then to sustain itself when it is deprived of the covering and protection of the body?

' That the mind has been damaged, S^cJ] Ver. 596.

Quod genus est, animo mal^ factum quum perhibetur, Aut animam li^uisse^ ubi jam trepidatur, et omnes Extremum cupiunt vitse reprehenaere vinclum.

The expression animo mdU. factum, ** the mind has been damaged,*' says Wakefield, was the vulgar phraseology; the phrase animam liqiMse, XetflTo^vviierat, " suffered-syncope," the mode in which the better instructed spoke.

B. III. 604-625; LUCRETIUS. 125

and being in the open air, with its covering removed, can not only not endure throughout all time, but' cannot even main- tain-its-existence for the smallest space whatsoever ?

Nor does any one, when dying, appear to feel * his soul go forth entire from his whole body, or come up first to his throat, and to his jaws above it; but he finds that part of it which is placed in any certain portion of the body, fail and decay in that part; as he is conscious of the other senses losing-their-power each in its own quarter ; but if our soul were immortal, it would not so much complain that it suffers dissolution when dying, but would rather rejoice t6 pass forth abroad, and to leave its covering, as a snake delights to cast its skifiy or an old stag its too long antlers.

Again, why are the understanding and faculty^ of the mind never produced in the head, or the feet, or the hands, but re- main-fixed, in all men alike, in their peculiar seats and defi- nite quarters, if it be not that certain spots are assigned to each part to be bom in, and where each, whatever it be, may preserve-its-existence when born ; and if it be not that such is the case with respect to the whole of the various members, so that there may no where arise an improper arrangement of the parts ? So invariably, in the operations of nature, does one thing follow another ; nor is fire wont to be produced from rivers, or cold to be generated in fire.

Besides, if the nature of the soul is immortal, and can have-a-sentient-existence,^ when separated from our body,

# * Nor does any one, iivhen dying, appear to feel, ^c] Ver, 606. The twelfth argument. Who, at death, feels his soul going out en- tHre from him ? Does it not seem to lose its vitality, throughout the body, e(^ually with the various organs of the body ?

' Again, why are the understanding and faculty, ^c.] dl5. The thirteenth argument. Why is the mind always generated in the breast, if it be not that a certain part or organ of the body is assigned to it as to each of the senses ; an organ with which it is bom and with

which it dies? The whole of the various members.] Ver. 620.

Multimodis pro totis artubus; " multimodis " being ian adjective.

• Besides, if sentient existence, ^c] Ver. 624. The fintr-

teenth argument. If the soul, after death, is to live and enjoy sense, it must have organs of sense ; but it has left the organs of sense in the body. 1 have added a few words at the end of the para- graph. Lachmann improves the whole of it by rea^ng, in ver. 632, anima for amm<2, according to a conjecture of Pius.

126 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 626—654.

we must consider it, as I suppose, to be endowed with the five senses ; nor in^any other way can we represent to our- selves the infernal souls as wandering on the hanks of the Acheron. Accordingly painters, and the past generations of writers, have introduced in their compositions souls thus en- dowed with senses. But neither can the eyes, nor the nos- trils, nor the hand itself, preserve-existence apart from the soul ; nor can the tongue ; nor can the ears perceive hearing, or even remain-in-being, apart yVom the sotd, ffow then can souls be possessed of the Jive senses^ when all the organs of those senses have perished ?

And since we see that the vital sense spreads through the whole body,* and that the whole is animated, if, on a sud- den, any violence shall cut through the body in the middle, so as to sever the two parts asunder, the substance of the soul, also, without doubt, being disunited and divided together with the body, will be dispersed and scattered abroad. But that which is divided, and separates into any parts, evidently shows that it has not an ever-during nature.

People relate that chariots armed with scythes, warm with promiscuous slaughter, often cut off limbs with such sudden- ness, that the part which, being severed, has fallen from the body, is seen to quiver on the ground, when, notwithstanding, the mind and spirit of the man, from the quickness of the wound, cannot feel any pain. And because at the same time, the mind, in the ardour of battle, is given up to action, it pursues fighting and slaughter with the remainder of the body ; nor is one man aware, frequently, in the midst of ttfe horses, that the wheels and amputating scythes have carried away his left hand, which is lost together with its defence ; nor is another conscious^ while he climbs the wall and presses forward, that. his right hand has dropped off. A third next attempts to rise after having lost his leg, while his djdng foot, close by Jdm, moves its toes on the ground. And the head of

* And since vital sense — through 'the whole body.] Ver. 634.

The ffieenth argument. Since the soul spreads through the body, it may be divided with the body : but that which may be divided is mortal. Or shall we say that wnen a limb is cut off from the body, and shows that it retains life in it, there is still in it a soul? But to assert this would be to assert that one animal has many souls.

B. III. 65fiH-679. LUCRBTITTS. 127

a fourthy severed from the warm |md living trunk, keeps, while lying on the ground, its look of life and its eyes open, until it has yielded up all remains of the soul within it.

Moireover, if, when the tongue of a serpent vibrates against you^ and his tail and long body threaten yauy you may feel inclined to cut both tail and. body into several parts with your sword, you will see all the parts separately, cut through with the recent wound, writhe about, and sprinkle the earth with blood ; and you toill observe the fore part, turning backward, i^eeking itself, that is, the kinder part of the body, with its mouth, so that, pierced with the burning anguish of the wound, it may seize it with its teeth.

Shall we then say that there are entire souls in all those several parts ? But from that position it will follow that one living creature had several souls in its single body. And since this is absurd, we must admit, therefore, that that has been divided which was one with the body ; wherefore both must be thought to be mortal ; since both are equally divided into several portions.

Besides, if the nature of the soul exists imperishable, and is infused into men * at their birth, why are we unable to re- member the period-of-existence previously spent by us, nor retain any traces of past transactions ? For if the power of the mind is so exceedingly changed, that all remembrance of past things has departed from it, that change, as I think, is not far removed from death ilself. For which reason you must of necessity acknowledge, that whatever soid previously ^^sted has perished, and that that which exists for the pre- sent has been produced for the present.

Again, if, after the body is completely formed,* the vital

* Besides, if the nature of the soul — infused into men, S^,"] Ver. 670. The sixteenth argument, " If the soul, being^ immortal, and existing entire, before the formation of the body, is at length in- fused into it. (as was the opinion of Pythagoras ana Plato,) wnf has no. one (Pytnagoras alone excepted) remembered his past life? But if the soul, thus previously existing, lost all recollection of the past at its entrance into the body, why may not that which is subject to such a loss of memory, be liable to death itself? " Creech, Comp. i. 117.

'. Again, if after the body is completely formed, ^c.l Ver. 679. The seventeenth argument. Were the soul lodged in the body after the body is formed, it might be expected to live as an animal in a cage,

y

128 ' LUCRETIUS. B. III. 680-703.

power of the soul is wont to be introduced into us at the very time when we are born and when we cross the threshold of life, it would not be in accordance with this, that it should seem, (IS it now seems, to have grown up in the blood itself together with the body, and with its several members ; but it would rather be natural that it should live alone, as in a cage, by itself aTid for itself; though in stick a manner, that the whole body, hy its influence, should abound with sense and vitality. For wMch reason, / say again and again, we must neither think that souls are without begini^ng, nor that they are exempt from the law of death. For neither must we deem that fiouls, if infused into us from without, could have been so completely united with our bodies ; (which complete union, on the con- trary, manifest experience proves to take place ; for the soul is so combined vnth the body throughout the veins, viscera, nerves, and bones, that even the very teeth have a share of feeing ; as their aching proves, and the acute-pain from cold water, and the cranching of a hard pebble ^ suddenly among our food ;) nor, when they are so completely united, does it seem possible for them to come out entire, and to extricate themselves unharmed from all the nerves, and bones, and joints.

But if still, perchance, you think that a soul, infused from without,^ is wont to expand itself through our limbs, yet to odmitHhis, is only to admit, that every man's soul, being spread out with the body, will so much the more certainly perish with it. For that which is diffused throtighottt the body, is dissolved with it, and therefore perishes. Being distributed, then, through all the passages of the body, — as food, when it

not difiused) as it is throughout the whole substance of the body, with which it seems to be bom only that it may die with it.

* The cranching of a hard pebble, ^cJ] Ver. 694. Et lapis oppres- sus subitis e frugihus cLsper, Literally, and a rotigh stone pressed-on from sudden com, or bread. The feeling in the teeth, he says, shows that the soul pervades the teeth.

^ But if still, perchance, you think that a soul, infused from with- out, ^c] Ver. 698. The eighteenth argument. But suppose that a soul, formed before the birth of the body, is infused into the body, must it not, being so intimately united with the body, be subject to change with it, rrom the influence of different kinds of food, and other causes? And must not a being thus subject to change with the body, be liable to destruction together with it?

B. xn. 704—722. LUCRETIUS. 129

is distributed through all the members and limbs, is dissolved, and takes of itself another nature,' — so the soul and the mind, although, under this supposition, they go whole into the body at first, yet are dissolved, like digested food, in diffusing them- selves dirough it, while the particles are distributed, as if through tubes, into all the limbs ; the particles, I say, of which is formed this substance of the mind, which now rules in our body, and which has been generated, Uke the new nature of food, from that which lost its consistence when it was spread throughout the limbs.

For which reasons, the nature or substance of the soul seems neither to have been without a natal day, nor to be exempt from death.

Again, whether do any atoms of the soul remain^ in a dead body, or not ? For if any remain and exist in the body, it will not be possible for the sovl to be justly accounted immortal; since when she took her departure, she was diminished of some lost particles. But if, when removed, she fled with all her parts so entire, that she left no atoms of her substance in the body, whence do dead carcasses, when the viscera become pu- trid, send forth worms ? And whence does such an abund- ance of living creatures, void of bones and blood, swarm over the swollen limbs ?

But if, perchance, you think that perfectly-formed souls

* * Is dissolved) and takes of itself another nature.] Ver. 704. Disperit, atque alidm naturam aufficit ex se. " Loses its own proper na- ture, and forms another substance altogether different from what it was at first." Creech,

As vanish foods, through every mazy gland, Through every limb when urged, to different forms Converting gradual. Good.

Sufficit, that is, (say Lambinus and Faber,) '' suppeditat, subminis- trat." The food, by being dissolved, supplies, rumishes, presents, exhibits^ is converted into, a substance of a different nature from that which it had at first — The soul and the mind — are dissolved.] Disaolvuntur, He means that, while^ the soul would be expanded throughout the bodv, its original consistence would be much altered, many of its particles being detached from others by intervening particles of the body.

' A^ain, whether do any atoms of the soul remain, ^c] Ver. 713. The nineteenth argument. When a man is dead, does any portion of the soul remain in the dead body ? If none remains, how are worms animated ? If any remains, how can the soul be pronounced indis- soluble and imperishable ?

130 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 723-743.

may be insinuated into those worms from without, and if ycm suppose that they may pass each into its own body, and yet omit to consider for what cause many thousands of souls should congregate in the place from which one soul has withdrawn^ this point, however, which you leave out of consideration, is of such a nature, that it seems especiaUy worthy to be sought into and brought under examination. It is proper not only to reject, I say, whether souls hunt for particular atoms of worms, and build for themselves carcasses in which they may dwell, or whether they infuse themselves into bodies already made ; but also to consider that there is no reason to be given ^ why they should make bodies, or why they should labour at aU; for, while they are without a body, they fly about undis- turbed by diseases, and cold^ and hunger ; since it is the body thai rather labours under these maladies, (as well as from death,) and the soul suffers all evils from contact with it. But, nevertheless, let it be as advantageous as you please for these souls to make a body which they may enter, there seems, however, to be no means by which they may make it. It is fair, therefore, to conclude that souls do not make for them- selves bodies and limbs. Nor yet is there a possibility, as it appears, that they can be infused into bodies perfectly-formed ; for neither uTider that supposition can they be exactly fitted together ; nor will their mutual-motions be carried on with sympathy. •

Furthermore, why does violent rage^ attend upon the sullen breed of lions, and craft upon that of foxes ; and why is flight communicated to stags from their sires, and why does hereditary

* Reason to be given, S^/] Ver. 731. Dicere mppeditat. In ver. 733, Jmia is used for mora, as is frequently the case in Tacitus.

* Furthermore, why does violent rage, ^c.J Ver. 741. The twenr- tteth argument, directed against the Pythagoreans. If souls, as the followers of Pythap^oras declare, remain immortal,^ and pass from body to body, now is it that, occasionally, the dispositions of animals have not been varied by a difference in the souls that have passed into them? How is it, for example, that the soul of a lion, passing into a sta^, has never produced a lion-like stag, or that a numan soul, passing into a horse, has never made a rational horse? Or, supposing human souls restricted to human bodies, how is it that the soul of a man^assing into a child, has never produced a mature- minded child? What reason can be gfiven for the non-occurrence of such phenomena^ but that no such transmigrations take place, and that in every individual body its own particular soul is generated, grows, and decays ?

B. III. 744— 771. LUCRETIUS. 131

fear add speed to their limbs? And as to other qualities of this sort, why do they all generate, in the body and temper- ament, from the earliest period of life, if it be not because a certain disposition of mind ^rows up together with each body from its own seed and stock ? But if the soul were immortal, and were accustomed, tzs the Jh/thagoreans think, to change bodies, surely animals would gradually alter, and grow of mixed dispositions ; the dog of Hyrcanian breed would often flee from the assault of the homed stag ; the hawk, flying through the air of heaven, would tremble at the approach of the dove ; men would lose their understanding, and the savage tribes of wild beasts become reasonable.

For that which some assert, namely, that an immortal soul is altered by a change of body, is advanced upon false reason^ ing ; as that which is altered, loses its consistence, and there- fore perishes ; since the parts are transposed, and depart from their original arrangement ; wherefore the parts of the soul, under this hypothesis, must also be subject to dissolution throughout the limbs ; so that finally they may all perish to- gether with the body.

But if they shall say that the souls of men always migrate into human bodies, I shall nevertheless ask, why a soul, from being wise in a tvise body, should possibly become foolish in the body of a fool; why no child is found discreet, or inform- ed with a soul of mature understanding, and why no foal of a mare is as skilful in his paces as the horse of full vigour ? why, I say, is this, if it be not because a certain temper of mind grows up with each body from its own seed and stock ? These philosophers, forsooth, will take refuge in the assertion,^ that the mind becomes tender in a tender body ; but if this be the case, you must admit that the soul is mortal, since, being so exceedingly changed in its new body, it loses its former vitality and powers.

Or in what way will the vigour of a soul,* strengthened in

] Take refuge in the assertion.] Ver. 769. " Confugient e6 scilicet, ut dicant men tern tenerascere in corpore tenero." Laimbi- nui. But if the soul is thus changed, it must be mortal, for what- ever is immortal is unchangeable.

* Or in what way will the vigour of a soul, ^.] Ver. 770. Having hitherto fought with his heavy battalions, says Creech, he now brings forward his light troops, and adds six arguments of a less forcible character. I shall entitle t]»ese, additumal observatioM, The

s 2

132 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 772-790.

concert with each particular hodj, be able to reach with it the desired flower of mature age, unless it shall be joined to it in its first origin ? Or with what motive does the soul go forth from limbs that are grown did ? Does it fear to remain imprisoned in a decaying-carcass, lest it should decay vnth it? Or is it afraid lest its tenement, shaken with a long course of Hfe, shoidd fall and overwhelm it ? But to that which is immortal, there are no such dangers.

Moreover, to imagine that souls stand ready ^ at the amor- ous intercourses, or parturitions, of beasts, to enter into the young, seems exceedingly ridiculous. It appears too absurd to suppose that immortal beings, in infinite numbers, should wait for mortal bodies, and contend emulously among them- selves which shall be first and foremost to enter ; — ^unless per- chance you suppose that agreements have been made among the souls, that the first which shall have come flying to the body, shall have first ingress, and that they may thus have no contest in strength with one another.

Again, neither can a tree exist in the sky,^ nor clouds in the deep sea ; nor can fish live in the fields ; nor blood be in wood, nor liquid in stones. It is fixed and arranged where every thing may grow and subsist ; thus the nature or sub- stance of the mind cannot spring up alone without the body, or exist apart from the nerves and the blood. Whereas if this could happen, the power of the mind might at times rather arise in the head or the shoulders, or the bottom of the heels, and might rather accustom itself to grow in any place, than to re- main in the same man and in the same receptacle.^ But since it seems fixed and appointed also in our own body, where the

Jirst iBj^ that if the soul were independent of the bod^, and not bom with it, it would hardly desire to live in it from its infancy to its maturity, and, if not afraid to die with it, would hardly be always found to leave it at an advanced age.

' Moreover, to inmgine that souls stand ready, S^c.'] Ver: 777. The second additionaZ obaervcstion. That it is ridiculous to suppose that immortal beinj^ should contend for mortal bodies.

* Again, neither can a tree exist in the sky, ^cJ] Ver. 785. The third additional observation,^ That, as every animal and vegetable production grows and dies in its proper place, so it is to be consider- ed that the soul of a man pows and dies in and with his body.

* In the same receptacle.] Ver. 794. In eodem vase. He seems to refer to what he said above, ver. 141, as to the mind being situ- ated in medid reffione pectoris.

B. III. 796-«29. LUCRETIUS. 1 33

soul and the mind may subsist and grow up by themselves, it is so much the more to be denied that they can endure and be produced out of the entire body. For Avhich reason, when the body has perished, you must necessarily admit that the soul, which is diffused throughout the body, has perished with it.

Besides, to join the mortal to the immortal,^ and to suppose thai they can sympathize together, and perform mutual opera- tionSy is to think absurdly ; for what can be conceived more at variance with reason^ or more inconsistent and irreconcila- ble in itself, than that that which is mortal, joined to that which is imperishable and eternal, should submit to endure violent storms and troubles in combination with it ?

Further, whatsoever bodies remain eternal,^ must either, as being of a solid consistence, repel blows, and suffer nothing tor penetrate them, that can disunite their compact parts within ; {such as are the primary-particles of matter, the nature of which we have shown dbove ;) or they must be able to en- dure throughout all time^ because they are free from blows, or unsusceptible of them ; (as is a vacuum, which remains in- tangible, and suffers nothing from a stroke ;) or they must be indestructible for this reason, that there is no sufficiency of spaceVound about, into which their co/z^^'^e^^Tif substances may, as it were, separate and be dissolved ; (as the entire universe is eternal, inasmuch as there is neither any space without it into which its parts may disperse; nor are there any bodies which may fall upon it, and break it to pieces by a violent concussion :) but, as I have shown, neither is the nature of the soul of a solid consistence, since with all compound bodies vacuum is mixed ; nor is it like a vacuum itself; nor, again, are bodies wanting, which, rising fortuitously from the infi- nite of tilings, may overturn this frame of the mind with a violent tempest, or bring upon it some other kind of disaster and danger; nor, moreover, is vastness and profundity of space wanting, into which the substance of the soul may be dispersed, or may otherwise perish and be overwhelmed by any other kind of force. The gate of deatl^ therefore, is not shut against the mind and sotd.

* Besides, to join the mortal to the immortal, 4r<?.] Ver. 801. The fourth additional observation. That the immortal cannot well con- sort with the mortal.

* Further, whatsoever bodiea remain eternal, ^c] Ver. 807. The Jifth additional obaervatioti. That for certain otner reasons, (fully set forth in the text,) the soul cannot be imperishable.

134 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 830—863.

But if perchance the soid, in the opinion of any^ is to be accounted immortal the more on this account,^ that it is kept fortified by things preservative of life; or because objects adverse to its sf^fetj do not all approach it ; or because those that do approach, being by some means diverted, retreat be- fore we can perceive what injury they inflict ; the notion of those who think thtis is evidently far removed from just rea- soning. For besides that it sickens from diseases of the body, there often happens something to trouble it concerning fu- ture events, and keep it disquieted in fear, and harass it with cares ; while remorse for faults, from past acts wickedly and foolishly committed, torments and distresses it. Join to these afflictions the insanity peculiar to the mind, and the oblivion of all things ; and add, besides, that it is often sunk into the black waves of lethargy.

Death, therefore, is nothing, nor at all concerns us, since the nature or substance of the soul is to be accounted mortal. And as, in past time, we felt no anxiety, when the Cartha- ginians gathered on all sides to fight toith our forefathers, and when all things under the lofty air of heaven, shaken with the dismaying tumult of war, trembled with dread ; and men were uncertain to the sway of which power every thing human, by land and by sea, was to fall ; so, when we shall cease to be, when there shall be a separation of the body and soul of which we are conjointly composed, it is certain that to us, who shall not then exist, nothing will by any possibility happen, or ex- cite our feeling, not even if the earth shall be mingled with the sea, and the sea with the heaven.

And even if the substance of the mind, and the powers of the soul, after they have been separated from our body, still retain-their-faculties, it is nothing to us, who subsist only as being conjointly constituted by an arrangement and union pf body and soul together. Nor, if time should collect our ma- terial-atoms after death, and restore theni again as they are now placed, and the light of life should be given back to us, would it yet at all concern us that this were done, when the recollection of our existence has once been interrupted. And

' But if immortal the more on this account, S^c,"] Ver. 830.

The sixth additional observation. That if any think the mind unas- sailable by trouble and disease, which cause weakness and decay, experience refutes them.

B. III. 864-«74. LUCRETIUS. 135

it is now of no importance to us, in regard to ourselves, what we were before ; ^ nor does any solicitude affect us in reference to those whom a new age shall produce from our matter, should it again be brought together as it is at presen)t. For when you consider the whole past space of infinite time, and reflect how various are the motions of matter, you may easily believe that our atoms have often been placed in the same order as that in which they now are. Yet we cannot revive that time in our memory ; for a pause of life has been thrown between, and all the motions of our atoms ^ have wandered hither and thither, far-away from sentient-movements. For he, among men now living, to whom misery and pain^ are to

* It is of no importance to us, what we were before.] Ver. 864.

£t nunc nil ad nos de nobis attinet ante Quel fuimus.

Supposing that the atoms of a man who lives now, existed ages ago in the same combination, that is, formed the same person, (of which he admits the possibility in ver. 870,) it is of no importance to him what he did or su£fered then, since death has intervened and inter- rupted all consciousness and memory. Interruptasemel quum sit repe- tentia nostrU^ sc. rebus (ver. 863) ; as Wakefield and Forbi^er have it; Lambinus and his followers read nostra; Lachmann gives reti~ nentia nostri,

• All the motions of our atoms, S^cJ] Ver. 872, 873.

Inter enim jecta est vital' pausa, vag^que De 'rrArunt passim motus ah sensibus omnes.

'* Morte enim vita fuit interrupta, motusoue omnes, quibus j aetata erant semina, erant a sensiferis motibus plan^ diversi. Creech.

Because a pause of life, a gaping spade, . Has come betwixt, where memory lies dead, And all the wandering motions from the sense are fled.

Dryden. The atoms of the body at its dissolution, became mere brute sense- less matter.

' For he, among men now living, to whom misery and pain, ^c] Ver. 874, seq. This passage, as gfiven by Wakeneld and copied by Forblger, is one of the most unsatisfactory in Lucretius. In Lambinus's edition, and all others before WaKefield, the passage stood thus :

Debet enim, miser^ quoi forte segnreque futurum est.

Ipse quoque esse in eo tum tempore, quom mal^ possit

Accidere: At quoniam mors eximit im \Jor eum,J prohibetque

Ilium quoi possint incommoda conciliari

Hsec eadem in quibus et nunc nos sumus, ante fuisse ;

Scire licet nobis nil esse in morte timendum.

This state of the text gave very clear and straightforward sense ;

136 LCCRETtDS. b. ni. B7fi-878.

happen q/W Ms deadi, moat himself exiat again, in kis own idejttity, at that very time on which the evd which he is to . suffer may have power to fall ; but since death, which inter- rvpli all eonieiousnest, and prenent* all memory of the past, precludes (A« potgi&ility of thia ; and tinee the circumstance of having previously existed, prohibits him loho lived before, emd with whom these calamities which We suffer might be asso- bat Wakefield, referring k infected witb mala koMh, i athamed, and re-modelled the whole thus:

Debet enim taiaere e«t quoi forte legreque futurum, Ipee quoijue esse in eo tmn tempore, quo! male posait Adcidere : id quoniam mors eiimit, esseque pronihet ninm, quoi poasint incomrooda concihari Hsc eadem, quibui i nunc noa aumua, ante f^iissej Scire licet, &c. Giving the following as the order and aenae : " Quoniam mora ex- imit id, et {rb) fuiese antl probibet ilium, cui b^ec incommoda pos- BJnt concilian, esse eadem (aemina), fe quibus nos nunc Bumus (compoaiti)." According to thia ioternretation, there ought to be a comma after Hitc, but there ia not, either in any edition of Wake- field, or in tboae of Eichatadt end Forbiger, who both copied bim. As I have followed Wakefield'a test, I have alao followed, as the reader will aee, bia interpretation; hut aurely lo make ante fuitia ibe nominative caae to prohibet, to refer htec to incommoda, and to couple eadem with the remote ease, can he eatisfsctory to few. Lacb- mann, the laat editor, makes a transposition of a verse, wtiicb I cannot exhibit to the reader without transcribing a few previous

Facile hoc adt^rede^e poagis, Semina ssp^in eodem, utnunc aunt, ordine poate HiEc eadem, quibus % nunc noi sumus, ante fiiase :

Nee memon tamen id quimus repraehendeie meote :

Inter enim jectast vital pauso, vageque

Deerrarunt passim motus a sensibus omneB.

Debet enim, misere si forte aegreque liituiumat,

Ipse quoque esse in eo turn tempore, cui male poasit

Accidere: id <^uoniammorseximiL esseque probet (/or prohibet)

Ilium cui poasit incommoda conciliori,

Scire licet nobis, Ifc,

This may be partly right, but, if I may venture to expresa an

opinion, I should say that no alteration will restore the passage to

its genuine state, unless it be such a« ahall, by whatever method,

'n concUiari with mmina ; for concilia, conaliatm, and coneUium, ai

■orda which Lucretiua deligbta to apply to hii atoms; and the

' " Dmmoda conciliori " could hardly be regarded, in any

author, {mali conciliati occurs in Pleut. Paeud. i. 2, 1,)

pbraae " incommoda conciliari " could hardly be regarded,

but a comic author, {mali cotic"--'-' ■"— • " — ^

otherwiae than with suapicion.

B. m. 879—906. LUCRETIUS. 137

ciated, from existing a second time, (with arvy recollection of his other life,) as the same combination of atoms of which we now consist, we may be assured that in death there is nothing to be dreaded by us ; that he who does not exist, cannot be- come miserable ; and that it makes not the least difference to a man, when immortal death has ended his mortal life, that he was ever b(»m at alL

Whenever, therefore, you see a man express concern that it should be his lot after death either to putrify on the ground when his body is laid aside, or to be destroyed by flames, or by the jaws of mid beasts, you may know that his mind is not in a healthy state, and that some secret disquietude as to his fate is concealed in his breast, although he may himself deny that he believes any consciousness will remain to him after death. For, as I think, he does not make good what he professes, nor speaks from conviction, from which he pretends to speak ;^ nor withdraws and removes himself, in thought, wholly out of life, but^ foolish as he is, makes something of himself still to survive. For when any one of such a character represents to himself, while alive, that birds and beasts will tear his body at death, he is seized with commiseration for himself; for neither does he at all distinguish himself dead from himself living, nor sufficiently withdraw himself from his exposed carcass ; but supposes it to be still himself, and standing by it, in imagination, communicates to it a portion of his own feeling. Hence he is concerned that he was born mortal, nor reflects that in real death there wil} remain of him no other self, which, surviving, may mourn for him that he has perished, and, standing upright, may lament that he, lying down, is torn in pieces or burnt to ashes. For if it is an evQ at death, to be t//-treated by the jaws and teeth of wild beasts, I do not see how it can be otherwise than unpleasant for a man, being laid on a funeral-^pyre, to bum in hot flames, or, placed in honey, to be suffocated,^ or to grow stiff with cold, when he is lying on the highest flat of a gelid rock, or

^ From convietiony from which he pretends to epeak,'] Ver. 889. Non

-^■dat quod promittit et unde, " Unde promiserat se daturum." Wake^

field. He does not speak from sincere belief, as he professes to speak.

— A little below, " roolish as he is " answers to imciue, which Creech,

I think riffhtly, interprets etidtm.

^ Placed in honey^ to be suffocated.] Ver. 904'. In meUe eitum suffocari, A mode of burial among the ancients. Xenophon (HeU

138 LUCRETIUS. B. III. 906— 937.

to be pressed down and overwhelmed with the weight of su- perincumbent earth.

" For now,** men say, " your pleasant home shall no more receive you, nor your excellent wife; nor shall your dear children run to snatch kisses, and touch your breast with secret delight. You will no more be able to be in flourishing circumstances, and to be a protection to your friends. Un- happily, one adverse day has taken from you, unfortunate man^ all the numerous blessings of life." In such remarks they do not add this, " Nor now, moreover, does any regret for those things remain with you." ^ Which truth if men would well consider in their thoughts, and adhere to it in their words, they would relieve themselves from much anxiety and fear of mind. " You, for your part," says a mourner over a corpse, ** laid to sleep in your bed, will so remain as you are for what- ever time is to come, released from all distressing griefs ; but we, standing near you, shall inconsolably lament you reduced to ashes on the awful pjrre ; and no lapse of time shall remove our unfading sorrow from our hearts." Of him, however, who makes such lamentations, we may ask this question, "If the matter of death is reduced to sleep and rest, what can there be so bitter in it, that any one should pine in eternal grief for the decease of a friend ? "

This also is often a practice among men, that when they have sat down to a feast, and hold their cups in their hands, and overshadow their faces with chaplets, they say seriously and from their, hearts, " This enjoyment is but short to us little men ; soon it will have passed ; nor will it ever here- after be possible to recall it." As if at their death this evil were to be dreaded above all, that parching thirst should scorch and bum up the wretches, or an insatiable longing for some other thing should settle on them. Yet how different tmll be the fact! Since not even when the mind and body are merely at rest together in sleep, will any one feel concern for himself and his life ; for, for our parts, our sleep might thus be eternal ; nor does any care for ourselves affect us ; and yet, at that sea- son, the atoms, throughout our limbs, withdraw to no great distance from sensible motions,^ and the man who is suddenly-

len. V. 3, 19) mentions that Agesipolis, one of the Spartan kings, was buried in this way.

* Remain with you.J Ver. 915. Insidet tmd,

* Withdraw to no great distance from sensible motions.] Ver, 937.

H. m. 938—970. > / LUCRETIUS. 1 39

roused from sleeg' quickly recollects himself. Death, then, we must consider tolbe of far less concern to us, if less can he than that which we see to he nothing. For a greater separation of the atoms of matter takes place in death, nor does any man awake when once the cold pause of life has overtaken him.

Furthermore, if universal nature should suddenly utter' a voice, and thus herself upbraid any one of us: "What mighty cause have vou, O mortal, thus excessively to in- dulge in bitter grief? Why do you groan and weep, at the thought of death ? Fcmt if your past and former life has been an object of gratification to you, and all your blessings have not, as if poured into a leaky vessel, flowed away and been lost without pleasure, why do you not, O unreasonable man, retire like a guest satisfied with life, and take your undisturbed rest with resignation ? But if those things, of which you have had the use, have been wasted and lost, and life is offensive to you, why do you seek to incur further trouble,^ which may all again pass away and end in dissatisfaction ? Why do you not rather put an end to life and anxiety ? For there is nothing further, which I can contrive and discover to please you ; every thing is always the same. If your body is not yet withered with years, and your limbs are not worn out and grown feeble, yet aU things remain the same, even if you should go on to out- last all ages in living ; and still more would you see them the same, if you should never come to die." What do we answer to this, but that Nature brings a just charge against us, and sets forth in her words a true allegation ?

But would she not more justly reproach and upbraid, in se- vere accents, him who, being miserable unreasonably, deplores death ? " Away with thy tears, wretch," she might well say, " and forbear thy complaints." But if he who is older, and more advanced in years, complain, she may retort thus: "After having been possessed of all the most valuable things of life, thou pinest and wastest away with age. But, because thou always desirest what is absent, and despisest present ad-^

Haudqitttquam longi db senHferia motibua errant. Compare ver.

873. Deerrdrunt passim motus ab sensibus manes,

* If UNIVERSAL NATURE should Suddenly utter, ^c] Ver. 944. " So Cicero, in his Ist Oration against Catiline, introduces his Coun- try speaking ; and Plato the Laws in his Apology.*' Lambintts.

* Incur further trouble.] Ver, 954. Amplius addere—4naU, Others read mal^, which, taken yritlipereat, makes better sense.

140 LUCRBTIUS. B. III. 971—998.

vantageSy'^^e has passed from thee imperfect and unsatisfactory, and death has stood by thy head unawares, and before thou canst depart content and satisfied with thy circumstances. Now, however, resign all things unsuitable to thy age, and yield at once, with submissive feelings, to that which is stronger than thou;^ for it is necessary." iln^^ justly, as I think, would she address him; justly would she upbraid and re- proach him ; for that which is old, driven out by that which is new, always retires, and it is indispensable to repair one thing out of another ; nor is any man consigned to the ^MofErebuSy or black Tartarus, hut allowed to retire peaceablt/ to a dream- less sleep. The matter, of which thou art madey is wanted by nature that succeeding generations may grow up from it ; all which, however, when they have passed their appointed term of life, will follow thee : and so have other generations, before these, fallen into destruction; and other generations, not less certainly than thyself, will fall. Thus shall one thing never cease to rise from another ; and dius is life given to none in possession, but to all only for use.

Consider, also, how utterly unimportant to us was the past antiquity of infinite time, that elapsed before we were bom. This, then, nature exhibits to us as a specimen of the time which will be again after our death. For what does there appear terrible in it ? Does any thing seem gloomy ? Is not all more free from trouble than any sleep ?

And of the souls likewise, whatever are said to be in the profundity of Acheron, all the sufferings happen to ourselves, not in death, but in life. Tantalus, torpid with vain terror, does not (as it is reported) fear the huge rock impending over him in the air ; but such terror rather dwells with us in life ; a groundless fear of the gods oppresses mortals, and they dread that fall which fortune may assign to each.

Nor do vultures penetrate into Tityus, lying in Hades; nor, however they might search^ in his huge breast, would

^ Yield at once, with submissive feelings, to that which is stronger than thouJ] Ver. 975. JEguo animoqtte, agedum, maanis concede. Wake- field considers that tnagnia means persons ; Orellius (in his EclogtB Poet. Latinorum) thinks that it is the neuter plural, but supposes the meaning tobe.efe^r^ from great things, i. e. pleasures or enjoyments. I think that '^dire necessity's supreme command " is intended.

* Nor, however they might search, ^c] Ver. 998. Nee quid sub

B. III. 999-^1031. LUCRETIUS. 141

they be able to find, through infinite time, any thing to devour^ of however vast an extent of body he may be, even though it be such as may cover, with its limbs outspread, not merely nine acres, but the orb of the whole earth ; nor yet would he be able to endure eternal pain, or to supply food incessantly from his own body ; but he is a Tityus among us, whom, lying under the influence of love, the vultures of passion tear, and anxious disquietude devours; or whom cares, with any other unbecoming-feeling, lacerate.

A Sisyphus, likewise, is before our eyes in life, who sets his heart ^ to solicit from the people the fasces and sharp axes, and always retires repulsed and disappointed. For to seek power, which is empty, nor is ever granted, and constantly to endure hard labour in the pursuit of it, this is to push with effort the stone up the hill, which yet is rolled down again from the summit, and impetuously seeks the level of the open plain. • To feed perpetually, moreover, an ungrateful nature, and to fill it with good things, and never to satisfy it; a kindness which the seasons of the year do to us, as they come round in their course, and bring their fruits and various charms ; whilst we, notwithstanding, are never satisfied with the bless- ings of life ; this is, I think, that which they relate of the damsels -in the flower of their youth, that they pour water into a punctured vessel, which, however, can by no means be filled.

But also Cerberus and the Furies are mentioned, and pri- vation of light, and Tartarus, casting forth fires from it» jaws, objects which are no where, nor indeed can be ; but there is, in life, an eminent dread of punishment for enormous crimes ; there is the prison, the reward of guilt, and the terrible preci- pitation, of those who are condemned, from the rock ; there are stripes, executioners, the wooden-horse,* pitch, hot iron, fire-brands ; and though these may be absent, yet the mind,

magna scrutentur pectore. Observe that the quid is for qvaniumcunqitey or utcunqtie,

» Sets his heart.] Ver. 1010. Imbibit, " Imbibit petere is induxit in animitm petere. ' ' Lambinus,

* Stripes, executioners, the wooden^horse, S^J] Ver. 1030. Ver- berat camijicea, robur, pix, lamina, tmdm. By rt^r is meant the ma- chine called equtdeiu. or little horse, on which slaves were placed to be tortured, fiy tak<8 is signified either firebrands, or lighted torches, applied to the person, or wood to which the sufferer was fixed, and to which Juvenal, i. 155, alludes.

142 LUCRETIUS. b. hi. 1032—1059.

conscious of evil deeds, feeling dread in anticipation, applies to itself stings, and tortures itself ynth. scourges, nor sees, in the mean time, what end there can be of its sufferings, nor whilt can be the limit of its punishment, and fears rather lest these same tortures should become heavier at death. Hence, in fine, the life of foold becomes, as it were, an existence in Tartarus.

/ This reflection, likewise, you may at times address to your- self. " Even the good Ancus," as Ennius expresses it, " has de- serted the light with his eyes," ^ who was much better in many things than thou, worthless man I Besides, many other kings, and rulers of affairs, who swayed mighty nations, have yielded up the ghost. And what am I better than they ?

He, even, himself, who formerly paved a road over the vast sea, and afforded a way to his legions to pass through the deep, and taught them to walk on loot through salt gulfs, and despised the murmurs of the ocean, trampling on it with his cavidry ; even he, I say, the light of life being withdrawn from him, poured forth his soul from lus dying body.

Scipio, the thunderbolt of war, the dread of Carthage, gave his bones to the earth, just as if he had been the meanest slave.

Add to these, the inventors of the sciences and the graces ; add the associates of the muses ; over whom the unrivalled Homer having obtained the supremacy, has been laid to rest in the same sleep with others.

When mature old age, too,' gave Democritus warning that the mindful motions^ of his intellect were languishing, he him- self, of his own accord, offered his head to death.

Epicurus himself, having run through his light of life,^ is dead ; Epicurus, who excelled the human race in genius, and threw all into the shade, as the ethereal sun, when rising, obscures the stars.

Wilt thou, then, hesitate, and grudge to die, in whom, even while living and seeing, life is almost dead? T%ou, who

* Even the good Ancus has deserted the light with his eyes.]

Ver. 1038. Lumina sis octUis, Sfc, These words were taken by Lu- cretius from Ennius, and are given by Festus under sas.

* Mindful motions.] Ver. 1053. Memores mottts.

* Having run throuffh his light of life.] Ver. 1055. Deourso lu- mine vita. " A metaphor from the sun, says Wakefield, ** who runs his daily course of light."

B. III. 106(^^1094. LUCRETIUS. 143

wastest the greater part of existence in sleep, and snorest waking, nor ceasest to see dreamfl, and bearest a mind dis- turbed with empty terror; nor canst thou, frequently, dis- cover what evil lUSects thee, when, stupified and wretched, thou art oppressed with numerous cares on all sides, and, fluctuating with uncertain thought, wanderest in error ?/

If men could feel, as they seem to feel, that there is an oppression on their minds, which wearies them with its weight, and could also perceive &om what causes it arises, and whence so great a mass, as it were, of evil exists in their breasts, they would not live in the manner in which we generally see them living; for we observe them uncertain what they would have, and always inquiringybr something new ; and changing their place, as if bi/ the change they could lay aside a load.

He, who has grown weary of remaining at home, often goes forth from his vast mansion, and suddenly returns, inas- much as he perceives that he is nothing bettered by being abroad. He runs precipitately, hurrying on his horses, to his villa, as if he were eager to carry succour to an edifice on fire; but, as soon as he has touched the threshold of the building, he yawns, or falls heavily to sleep, and seeks for- getfulness of himself, or even with equal haste goes back and revisits thje city.

In this way each man fiees from himself; but himself, as it always happens, whom he cannot escape, and whom he stiU hates, adheres to him in spite qfhis efforts; and for this rea- son, that the sick man does not know the cause of his disease, which if every one could understand, he would, in the first place, having Laid aside all other pursuits, study to learn the NATURE OF THINGS ; siucc in such inquiries the state of eter- nity, not of one hour merely, is concerned ; a state in which the whole age of mortals, whatever remains after death, must continue.

Besides, why does so pernicious and so strong desire of ex- istence compel us to remain anxious in uncertain perils ? A certain bound of life is fixed to mortals ; nor can death be avoided, or can we exempt ourselves from undergoing it.

Moreover, we are continually engaged and fixed in the same occupations; nor, by the prolongation of life, is any new pleasure discovered. Yet that which we desire, seems,

144 LUCRETIUS. b. hi. 1096-1107.

while it is distant in the future^ to excel all other objects ; hu afterwards, when it has fallen to our lot, we covet some- thing else ; and thus a uniform thirst of life occupies us, long- ing earnestly for that which is to come ; while what fate the last period may bring us, or what chance may throw in our way, or what death awaits us, still remains in uncertainty.

Nor, by protracting life, do we deduct a single moment from the duration of death ; we cannot diminish aught ^ from its reiguj or caiise that we may be for a less period sunk in non-existence. How many generations soever, therefore, we may pass in life, nevertheless that same eternal death will still await us. Nor will he be less long out of being,^ who ter- minated his 4ife under this day^s sun, than he who died many months and years ago.

* We cannot diminish aught.] Ver. 1101. Nee delibrare valemus. *' Delibrare " is, to strip bark from a tree.

* Nor will he be less long out of being,^^c.j Ver. 1105. Nee minus

Hie diu jam non eritf et ule. It is requisite to translate et (like oc

or atque) by than.

BOOK IV.

▲BOUMBNT.

After an ezordiimi, (rer. 1—26,) in which LncretLns speaks of his suliject, and his mode of recommending it, he proceeds to treat of the images of Epi- coms, by which the senses are excited, rer. 26 — 45. He shows that images, of exquisite subtlety, are .emitted from the surfaces of objects, which are for the most part unseen, but which are observed when reflected from a mirror, or any smooth surface, rer. 46—106. Besides these images de- tached from bodies, there are others spontaneously generated in the air, ▼er. 109 — 216. He demonstnites that vision is produced by the impact of images on the eyes, ver. 217 — 239. He then scdves various questions re- lating to images in mirrors, and to light and shade, ver. 240 — 379. He ahows that the senses may be trusted, though some would question their evidence; and that false opinions arise from false reasoning about the testimony of the senses, ver. 380 — 469. Pursues the sul^ect more fully, refuting the Academic^, ver. 470 — 523. Proceeding to the other senses, he asserts that voice and sounda are of a corporeal substance, and dis- courses on the nature and formation of the voice, ver. 524 — 565. Speaks of jthe diffusion, reverberation, and penetration of sounds, ver. 566 — 617. Treats of taate and odour ^ and their diversities, ver. 616—724. Shows that imagination and thought are produced by means of images, which penetrate the body tiirough the senses, ver. 725—759. Explains the na- ture of dreams, and why a man thinks of that on which he wishes to .think, ver. 760—808. Shows how we are often deceived by images, ver. 809 — 823. Proceeds to prove that the organs of the body were produced before the use of them was discovered ; that they were not dengned for use, but that it was found out, after they were formed, that they cotUd be used, ver. 824—878. That motion in animals arose firom the motions of images, ver. 879—908. He then speaks more fiiUy of sleep and dreams, of which he suggests various causes, ver. 908—1035. Of love, desire, and their influence, ver. 1036— 1283.

146 LUCRETIUS. b. iy. 1—26.

I RANGE over the trackless regions^ of the Muses, trodden before by the foot of no poeU It delights me to approach the untasted fountains, and to drink; and it transports me to pluck the fresh flowers, and to obtain a distinguished chaplet for my head from those groves whence the Muses have hitherto veiled the temples of no one. In the first place, because I give instruction concerning mighty things, and proceed to free the mind from the closely-confining shackles of religion ; in the next place, because I compose such lucid verses concern- ing so obscure a subject, affecting every thing with the grace of poetry. Since such ornament^ also, seems not unjustifiable or without reason. But as physicians, when they attempt to give bitter wormwood to children, first tinge the rim round the cup with the sweet and yellow liquid of honey, that the age of childhood, as yet unsuspicious, may find the lips de- luded, and may in the mean time drink of the bitter juice of the wormwood, and, though deceived, may not be injured, but rather, recruited by such a process, may recover strength : so now I, since this argument seems, in general, too severe and forbidding to those by whom it has not been handled, and since the multitude shrink back from it, was desirous to set forth my chain-of-reasoning to thee, O Memmius^ in sweetly- speaking Pierian verse, and, as it were, to tinge it with the honey of the Muses ; if perchance, by such a method, I might detain thy attention upon my strains, until thou gainest a knowledge of the whole nature of things, and perceivest the utility of that knowledge.

But since I have demonstrated^ of what nature the primor-

* I range over the trackless regions, 4f^.] Ver. 1. Avia Pieridum peragfo loca^ &c. The first twenty-five verses of this book are taken from book i. 925. At the end of tne paragraph, ver. 25, 1 have given " utility of that knowledge,'* with Creech, who has " istiusque cogni- tionis utilitatem."

' But since I have demonstrated, iscj] Ver. 2(5. Having in the preceding books discoursed of atoms, the generation of things from them, and the nature of thie soul, he now proceeds to treat of rerum simulacra, the images of things, which the Epicureans supposed to be perpetually flying off* from the surfaces of bodies. If these images presented themselves to us entire and undistorted, we beheld true representations of the objects from which they came ; if they w€re broken, or inverted, or mixed one with another, we then saw monsters, such as Centaurs or Chimaeras. See ver. 736, acq. of this

B. IV. 27—60. LUCRETIUS. 147

dial-atoms of all things are, and with how different figures distinguished they fij spontaneously^ through spcuse, actuated by motion from aU eternity, and in what manner all things may severally be produced from them ; and since I have shown what is the nature of the soul, and from what substances it derives its vigour in-its-connexion with the body, and in what way, being separated from t^ it returns to its original elements, I shall now begin to treat of another subject, which is of the greatest concern to these inquiries, namely, that there exist those shapes which we call images of things ; shapes which, being separated, like membranes, from the surface of the bodies of objects, flit hither and thither through the air ; and which same shapes, not only occurring to us when awake, startle our minds, htU also alarm us in sleep, when we often seem to behold strange forms and spectres of the dead, that frequently, when we are torpid in slumber, rouse us with horror : / say that these are images thrown off the bodies of objects, that we may not, by any possibility, suppose that souls escape from Acheron, or that shades of the dead hover about among the living, or that any portion of us can be left after death, when, after the body, and substance of the soul, have , been disunited, they have suffered dissolution into their re- spective elements. •

I affirm, then, that thin shapes and figures of objects are detached from those objects ; from the surface, / mean, of their bodies ; shapes which are to be designated, as it were, their pellicle or bark, because ea>ch image bears the likeness and form of that object, whatsoever it be, from whose surface it is detached and seems to wander^ through the air,

hook. As to the spectres of the dead* Epicurus a^d Lucretius supposed them to be pellicles thrown off from corpses, which were so tnin as <to pass through coffins and all other obstructions, and which, though we might not notice them amidst business and bustle, we became liable to perceive in solitude and retirement. It was such a spectre that Brutus saw before the battle of Pharsalia. Dreams were produced, thev thought, by means of these subtle images penetrating to the boay during sleep, and coming in contact with the soul through the surface of the body. See ver. 728, seq. See Diog. Laert. x. 46 ; Cic. de Fin. i. 7 : Macrob. Sat. vii. 14. Aid. Gell. V. 16. In ver. 30 — 32, I have rendered easet^ vigeret^ rediret^ as present tenses. — Lucretius had given notice that he should enter on this subject, in book i. 133.

* Fly spontaneously, ^c] Ver. 28. See iii. 33.

* Seems to wander.] Ver. 50. Chtet — vagari, Fertur, dicitiur.

L 2

148 LDCEETIUS. b. iv. 51-77.

TbiB/act aaj oae, witli however dull an intellect, ma; un- detetand &om what follows. In the first place, since many bodies, among objects manifest before our eyet, send off, when disunited, vartout partides/nHN thar lubttance, partly diffused mid nbtie, as wood discharges smoke and fire heat, and partly more dose ^d condensed, as wbenerer grassboppers in som- mer lay aside their thin coats, and when calves, at their birth, oast the membrane ' ikim the surface of their bodies, and, like- wise, when the stippny snake pats off bis garment among the thorns, (for we frequMitly see the briers gifted with their spoils) : since these things, I joy, take place, a thin image may naturally be detached ' from bodies ; Aal it ta my, irom the extreme surface of bodies. For why those tubuanees which are mart dense, should more readify fall away and recede from bodies, than these t&apet which are liffht and subtle, it is quite impossible to teU ; especially when there are number- less minute partidee on the surface of objects, which may be thrown off in the order in which they have lain, and keep the outline of their figure ; and Mii m> much the more easily, as, being cengMratweljf few, and placed on the outmost saper- ficies, they are less liable to be obstructed.

For, assuredly, we not only see many partklet discbarge &emselvet, and' become detached, as we said before, from the middle and inward partt ofbodiet,* but we o&terve also colour itself frequently _fiy off from their surfaces ; and this effect yelloW) red, and purple curtains* publicly exhibit, when, stretched across the vast theatres, displayed over the poles and beams, they fluctuate with a tremulous motion ; tm: they then tinge the assembly on the benches, and the whole face of the scene beneath, the persons of senators, matrons, and gods, and

' Calves, St their birth, cast the membrane, fe.] Ver. ST. " The alanlois, formed for the purpose of containing the urine of the ftctus prior to its birth." Good.

* May naturally he detached."] Ver. 61. D^etmitti. Com p. v, 83.

» Fromthemiddleand inward parts o/iorfiej.] Ver. 71. ExaUo P&nitmqua. Lil«rBll]',./ri>BE ike deplA and (from) within.

' Yellow, red, and purple curtains.] Ver. 73, lej. LiUea, rwia. et/errugina. " Displayed over the poke and beams," Permalotvul- gata trabeijiie. Malut here aignifiea a pole for siipporlinp a curtain :

"' ■" ' ■■■ '- ', Ludi« Romanis malua in eirco instabilis ir

irocidit "■■ " ■

. . ...._, ^ in thin p(

turally send off," (ver. 83,] d,

B. IV. 78-106. LUCRETIUS. 149

vary them with their own colour ; and the more the walls of the theatre are shut in around, so much the more all these objects within, suffused with the hue of the curtcdnsj (the light of day being affected with it,) smile and look gay. When the cnrtainsy therefore, send off* colour from their surface, all otiher objects may naturally send off subtle images ; iotit is from the superficies that both emit. There are therefore, we must beHeve, certain outlines of figures, which, formed of a subtle texture, fly abroad, and which nevertheless cannot, at the time that they are separated /rom bodies, be individually discen^ hy the eye*

Besides, t^all odour, smoke, vapour, and other similar sub- stances, fly off from bodies in a scattered manner, U is because, while rising from within, they are, as they issue fdrth, broken by winding passages ; nor are there any direct openings of the orifices, by which they strive, as they spring up, to fly out.* But, on the other hand, when a thin coat of colour from the surface is thrown off, there is nothing that can scat-^ ter it, since, being placed on the very superficies^ it lies in readiness to fall off unbroken.

Moreover, whatever images appear to us in mirrors, in the water, and in any bright object, their substance, since they are distinguished by a form similar to their objects, must ne- cessarily consist ^ in forms thrown of^ from those objects. For why those grosser consistences, as smoke and vapour, which many bodies obviously send forth from, their substance, should more readily detach themselves, and recede from objects, than those which are thin and subde^ there is no possibility of tell- ing. There are, therefore, we may beUeve, thin images of the forms of bodies, and unlike those of, a grosser nature, which, though no one can see them severally throvm off, yet, being thrown off, and repelled by successive and frequent reflec- tions' from the flat surface of mirrors, strike the eye, and pro- .

* By which they strive to fly out] Ver. 92. Qu^ cofrUentkmt

ixire coortm. In f'orbiger q*M is misprinted for ^u^.

* Their substance — must necessarily consist.] Ver. 99. Esse eorum. Esse is xnit substantively for ouffia, or essence.

' Repelled by successive and frequent reflections.] Ver. 105.

Assiduo crebroque repulsu Rejects, reddunt speculorum ex sequote yisiun.

'* The representation of himself, which a man sees in a glass, is not,

150 - LUCRETIUS. b. i v. 107— 125.

duce sight. Nor can shapes of bodies be imagined, by any other means, to be so accurately preserved, as that forms cor- responding to each should be represented to us. <

Give me now your attention further, and learn of how subtle a nature or substance an image consists. You may imagine this subtlety^ in the first place, inasmuch as the pri- mordial-atoms of ^A^« are so far below our senses, and so ex- ceedingly less than those smallest objects which our eyes first begin to be unable to distinguish.^ But that I may make plain to you how exquisitely diminutive the primary-particles of all bodies are, listen to what I shall state in these few ob- servations.

First, there are some animals so exceedingly minute, that the third part of them can by no possibility be seen.^ Of what size can any internal part of these crecUures be imagined to be ? What is the globule of their heart, or of their eye ? What are their members and joints ? How extremely dimi- nutive must they be ! What, moreover, is the size of the several atoms of which their vital-principle, and the sub- stance of their soul, must necessarily consist ? Do you not conceive how subtle and minute they must be ?

Contemplate, besides, whatever bodies exhale from their substance a powerful odour, as panacea, bitter wormwood, strong-smelling southernwood, and pungent centaury, any one of which if you shall happen to shake gently, and imagine how small must be the atoms that affect your nostrils, you may

opinion of Epicurus, one^ but many : produced hy a quick don of images passing ofi^nrom the body, and striking against

in the

succession

the glass, whence^they are reflected to the eye ; the rapidity of the

process making the many appear as one." Lambintu, This will be

seen more clearly as the reader proceeds. Epicurus's doctrine of

images is one of the weakest points in his philosophy.

^ Our ejres first begin to be unable to distinguish.] Ver. 112. QtuB primum oculi captant non posse ttteri. He means tne extreme points, summa cacuminaf of small objects, which our sight cannot command. See i. 698. — "Make plain to you," (ver. 113,) con- formem; a word of Wakefield's selection, from two or three manu- scripts, for conjirmem, the reading of Lambinus. Wakefield inter- prets it, to make manifest, as if by forms.

^ That the third part of them can hy no possibility be seen.] Ver. 116. Ut horum Tertia pars nulld possit ratione videri. " That is, any considerable part, as in Rev. viii. 7, The third part of the trees, the sea, &c." Priigerust

B. IV. 126—148. LUCRETIUS. > 151

then the, better understand that numeroud images of bodied, composed qfstHl smaller atofns, may flit about in various ways^ without force or weighty and without impression on the senses.^ [Of which bodies how fine a part the image is, there is no one can express, or give the due estimation of it in words.]

But lest perchance you should think, that those images of objects alone wander abroad, which fly oflf from the objects themselvesy there are others^ also, which are produced spon- taneously, and are combined of themselves in this sky which is called the air ; those images, namely , which, fashioned in various shapes, are borne along on high, and, being soft in their contexture, never cease to change their figure, and to metamorphose themselves into the outlines of forms of every sort* This we sometimes see the clouds do, when we observe them thicken on high, and dim the serene face of the firma- ment, yet soothing the air, as it were, with their motion ; ^ as, frequently, the faces of giants seem to ^j over the heaven, and to spread their shadows far and wide ; sometimes huge mountains, and rocks apparently torn from those mountains, seem now to go before the sun, now to follow close behind him; then soTne monster seems to drag forward, and to ob-' trade, other stormy clouds.

Understand, now, with how easy and expeditious a process these images are formed, and perpetually flow off, and pass away from objects. For there is always on the surface of bodies something redundant, which they may throw ofl^; and this redundancy, or outside form, when it comes in contact with certain objects, as, for example, a thin garment,^ passes

^ Without force — and without impression on the senses.] Ver. 127. NuUd vi, caasctque 8ensu» " Which move with so small a force that they cannot affect the organs or senses." Creech, Between ver. 125 (ending with eiebiSf ^ich is Lambinus's conjecture for dw^bus'^ and ver. 126, Lachmann very reasonably considers that there is a hiattta. The passage in crotchets is thought spurious by Wakefield.

• Soothing the air — with their motion.1 Ver. 139. Aera rmUcentee motu. y B^ the variety of their shapes exhilarating the air^s it were, and difinsing over it a certain pleasantness.*' Wakejield, The reader will remember the passage in Hamlet, " Very like a whale/' &c.

' As, for example, a thin garment.] Ver. H8. Ut in primia veatem. "As ^^17, avTuta, jam, ^<;. This is worthy of notice, for it means exempli gratiA.'* Faber, A little below (ver. 152) in primia oc- curs again ; where, however, I have taken it, with Creech, in the sense of prtecipui.

152 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 149—180.

through it ; but^ when it strikes against rough rocks, or the substanoe of wood, is at once broken into fragments, so that it can present no image. But when objects wMch are bright and dense have stood in its waj, as, above all, a looking-glass, neither of these effects happens ; for neither can images pass through it like a garment, nor be divided into parts before the smoo& surface has succeeded in securing its entireness.^ From this cause it happens that images abound among us; and, however suddenly, at anj time whatsoever, you may place a mirror opposite an object^ the image ofii appears ; so that you may conclude that filmy textures of objects, and subtle shapes, are perpetually flying off from the superficies of every body. Many images are therefore carried off in a short space, so that. the production of these forms must naturally be thought rapid.^ And as the sun must send forth many rays in a short time, that all places may be constantly full of light, so, by a like process, many different images of bodies must necessarily be carried off from those bodies in a moment of time in all direc- tions round about ; since, whatsoever way we turn the mirror to the figures of (Ejects, the objects are represented in it of a correspondent form and colour.

Besides, at times when the state of the sky has just before been clear as possible, it becomes, with extreme suddenness, so frightfully overclouded on all sides, that you might think that all the darkness had left Acheron, and filled the immense vault of heaven ; eo formidably^ when such a gloomy night of clouds has arisen, does the face of black terror hang over the earth from above. Of which clouds^ thin as they are, how thin a portion their image must be, as viewed in a reflecting surface^ there is no man that can express, or give in words such an estimation as would be conceivable.

And now attend further^ and with how swift a motion images are borne along, and what activity is given to them as they swim across the air, so that, to whatever part they move, each with its several tendency, a short time only is spent in a

^ Has succeeded in securing its entireness.] Ver. 154. Meminit Uevor praatare adlutem. More literally, haa remember^ to secttre its safety. As to praatare, corny , iii. 215, 221.

^ So that the production of these forms must naturally be thought rapid.] Ver. 161. ' Ut meriib celer his rebus duxUur origo. " May jusUy be called rapid." This, like the lines on the activity of thought, (iii. 183,) seems very tame.

b

». IV. 181-202. LUCEETIUS. 153

long distance, I will proceed to explain, though rather, if pos^ sUflCf in agreeably-sounding verses than in many ; ^ as the short melody of the swan is better than the croak of cranes swept- afar among the ethereal clouds driven hy the south-wind.

In the first place, we have constant means of observing how swift in their motion those bodies which are light, and which consist of minute particles, are. Of which kind is the son's light, and his heat ; for this reason, that they are com- posed of minute primary-atoms, which are, as it were, struck out, and make no difficulty to pass through the interval of air, driven on by a succeeding stroke ; for the place of light passing on is instantly supplied by other light, and brightness is, as it were, propelled by successive brightness.^ Wherefore images must, in like manner, be able to pass through an inex- pressible space in a moment of time ; in the first place, because there is always some slight impulse' at a distance behind them, which may carry them forward and urge them on ; and se- condly, because they are sent forth formed with so subtle a texture, that they<»n easily penetrate any substances what- soever, and, as it were, flow through the intervening-body of air.

Besides, if those atoms or bodies which are sent forth from within,^ and from the central portion of thenij as the light and heat of the sun, are seen, gliding over the whole space of the

* In affreeably-sounding verses than in many.] Ver. 181. Suavi- dicta potiut gudm mvUia, "Having regard to tne nature of the sub- ject," says Wakefield, "which has been so treated in prose as to ofiend and weary the reader." The eroak of cranes among the ekmde seems to have been a proverbial expression : see Lambinus, who quotes a Greek epi^am of Antipater Sidonius in Erinnam, containing a similar observation on the cnattering of daws. The lines occur again, ver. 910, acq,

* Successive brightness.] Ver. 191. Proteh fidgwre, "Protelum" is here used as an adjective ; in the only other place where Lucre- tius has it, (ii. 532,) it is a substantive. It is of uncertain deriva- tion ; Vossius makes it from pro and tehtm, indicating a succession like that of a number of darts thrown forward one after another.

» Some slight impulse, S^,] Ver. 194. Parvola causa Estproculi iergo, Creecn interprets causa hysuffidens vis, but would have jnit- vola in the ace. case, agreeing with simuiacra understood. In this notion I do hot think hnn right. Faber would read pbtrima causa. What cause or force impels images, or how it is produced, Lucretius does not explain.

* Forth from within.] Ver. 200. PenOus—ex alio. Comp. ver. 71.

154 LUCEETItJS. B. IV. 503-227.

air, to diffuse themselves abroad in a moment of time, and to fly through sea and land, and to flood the heaven which is above, where they are borne along with such rapid lightness, what shall we say of those particles, then, which lie ready on the outmost surface of bodies ? Do you tio^ conceive how much quicker and farther they ought to go, when they are once thrown off, and when nothing deisms their progress ? And do you not feel certain that they should fly over a much greater distance of space in the same time in which the light of the sun traverses the heaven ?

This also seems to be an eminently fitting example to show with how swift a motion the images of things are borne along, namely, that as soon as a bright-surface of water is placed in the open air, when the clear heaven is shining with stars, the radiant constellations of the sky immediately correspond in the water* Do you now understand, then, in what a moment of time this image descends from the regions of the air to the regions of the earth? From which cause, however wonderful,^ you must necessarily admit, again and again, the existence of bodies which strike the eyes and excite our vision, and flow with a perpetual issue from certain substances ; as cold from rivers, heat from the sun, spray from the waves of the sea, which is the consumer of walls round the shore ; nor do various voices cease to fly through the air ;^ moreover the moisture, so to speak, of a salt taste, comes often into the mouth, when we are walking near the sea ; and, again, when we look at diluted wormwood being mixed, a bitterness af- fects our palate. So evidently a certain substance is borne rapidly away from all bodies, and is dispersed in all directions

* From which cause, hxiwever wonderful, ^c.] Ver. 217.

Qu& re etiam atque etiam mir& fateare necesse est Corpora, quae feriant oculos visumque lacessant, Perpetuoque fluant certis ah rebus obortu —

This is Wakefield's reading, which Forhiger retains. Lambimu and Creech, instead of mird, have mitti; whicn verb, or one similar, is sadly wanted. But' Wakefield had the hardihood to say that it mignt well be dispensed with, and that we may sa,yfateri corpora as fateri peccata !

* Voices cease to fly through the air.] Ver. 222. Nee varies cesaant voces volitareper auras, Faber observes that this is said in reference to the cases of those who have thought they heard words spoken when nobody was near them.

fe. IV. 228—255. LTJCEETITJS. 155

around ; nor is there any delay or interruption allowed to the efflux ; since we perpetually perceive it with our senses, and may see all objects at all times, and smell them, and hear them sound.

Further, since any figure felt with the hands in the dark is known to be the same which is seen by day and in clear light, it necessarily follows that touch and sight are excited by a like cause. If, therefore, we handle a square object, and that object affects m% as a square in the dark, what object, in the light, will be able to answer to the shape of it, except its quadrangular image ? For which reason the faculty of dis- cerning forms is found to depend upon images, and it seems that no object can be distinguished by the eye without them.

Now those images of objects, of which I am speaking, are carried in every Erection, and are thrown off so as to be dis- tributed on all sides ; but, because we can see only with our eyes, it therefore happens, that whatsoever way we turn our sight, all objects on that quarter strike on it with their shape and colour. And the image causes us to see, and gives-us- means to distinguish, how far each object is distant from us. For when it is sent forth /rom the object, it immediately strikes and drives forward that portion of air, which is situated be- tween itself and our eyes ; and the whole of that air thus glides through our eyes,^ and, as it were, brushes the pupils gently, and so passes on. Hence it comes to pass that we see how far distant each object is ; and the more air is driven before the image, and the longer the stream of it that brushes through our eyes, the farther each object seems to be removed /rom us. These efiects, you may be sure, are produced with an ex-

* The whole of that air thus glides through our eyes. J Ver. 249.

Isque ita per nostras acies, perlabitur omnis, £t quasi pertergit pupillas, atque ita transit.

" Per oculos nostros perlabitur." Creech. " Permanat per nostras pupillas oculorum." Ed, DeJph, ** Se faisant passage le Ions des prunelles." Coutures, This is very well, but what shall we make of atqtie ita transit f If it enters the pupils of the eyes, to what part does it pass off? Good makes it very conveniently, " Strikes on the sen- tient pupil, and retires." But this was suggested. I suppose, by Wakefield's note^ vrho^ finding a difiiculty, proposed to read aub in- stead of per. This notion about the stream of air making known the distance, is repeated in ver. 280, »eg.

156 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 256— 284.

quisitely rapid process, so that we see what the chject is, and, at the same time, how far it is distant.

In these matters it is by no means to be accounted wonderful, whj, when those images which strike the eyes cannot be severally discerned, the objects themselves, from which they proceed «re perceived. For, in Uke manner, when the wind Strikes upon us by degrees, and when sharp cold spreads over us, we are not wont to perceive each first and siiccessive par- ticle of that wind and cold, but rather the whole together ; and we then perceive, as it were, blows infiicted upon our body, as if some substance were striking us, and producing in our frame a sense of its force which is without us, , Besides, when we strike a stone with our finger, we touch the very ex- treme superficies of the stone, and the outside colour ; and yet we do not ^el that colour with our touch, but rather perceive the hardness of the stone deeply seated within its substance.

And now learn in addition to this, why the image of an object in a mirror is seen beyond the mirror ; for certainly it seems extremely remote from us. ^ The case is the same as with those objects which are plainly seen'out of doors, when a door, standing open, affords an unobstructed prospect through it, and allows many objects out of the house to be contem- plated. For this view, also, as well as that in the mirror, takes place, if I may so express it, with a double and twofold tide of air. For first is perceived the air on this side of the door-posts; then follow the door-posts themselves on the right hand and on the left ; next the external light strikes the eyes, and the second portion ofm, and aU those objects which are clearly seen abroad. So, when the image from the glass has first thrown itself forward, and whilst it is coming to our sight, it strikes and drives forward the air which is situate between itself and the eyes, and causes us to per- ceive all this air before we see the mirror ; but when we have looked on the mirror itself, ^ the image which is thrown

* But when we have looked on the mirror itself, 4^.] Ver. 284.

Sed^ ubi in speculum quoque sensimus ipsum,

Continuo h, nobis in eum, quae fertur, imago Pervenit.

Thus stands the passage in Wakefield and Forhiger. Wakefield would join vMensimtu^ and this is perhaps the best thing that can he done. As for the eum in the next line, he makes it agree with <ura.

B. IV. 286-306. LTJCBBTIUa . 157

off from us, reaches it, and, being reflected, returns to our eyes, and 90y propelling another porHon of air before it, rolls it aUy and causes us to perceive this air before we see itself; and on that account seems to be distant, and to be so much removed from or behind the mirror. For which reason, again and again 1 say^ it is by no means right for those who study 1ke$e matters, to wonder at the effects which attribute vision from the surface of mirrors to the influence of two portions of air ; since the appearance is produced by means of both.

Now that which is in reality the right side ^ of our bodies, is made to appear on the left side in mirrors, for this reason, that when the image, which proceeds from our person, strikes upon the plane of the mirror, it is not reflected without a change, but, being turned back, it is so struck ontqf its former state, as would be the case with a mask of plaster, i^ before it were dry, any one should dash its face against a pillar or a beam ; when, if it should preserve, at that instant, its true figure as in front, or as when its front was presented to you, and should exhibit itself, or its exact features, driven back through the hinder part of the head, it will happen that the eye which before was the right, is now become the left, and that which was on the lef^ correspondently, is made the right.

It is contrived, also, that an image may be transmitted from mirror to mirror ; so that five, and even six images, have been often produced. For whatsoever (deject in a house shall be hid, as lying back in the interior part of it, it will yet be pos- sible that every such object, however removed out of sight by crooked turnings and recesses, may, (being drawn out, by

First comes to us the inuujfo specidi, propelling a certain portion of air ; then comes our own image from the speculum, striking upon that same air. But Lachmann judiciously changes in eum into ite- rum, and omits the tn in the preceding verse. At tne end of the para- graph **by means of both" answers XxiutraquB, which Wakefield, from Kon. Marc. ii. 882, says is for vtriinque or ynJtroqM; other eaitions have ittroqw. It is well for us, as Wakefield observes, that we are only the interpreters of Lucretius 's language, and not the patrons of his philosophy.

^ Now that which is in reality the right side, i^.] Ver. 293. The reader of this paragpraph in Forbiger, will observe that ksvd^ ver. 294, is for in Uevd; other editions have in — Recta, ver. 296, is the participle of rego, — Oculot, ver. 301, is for ocuhu.

158 LUCRETIUS.- B. IV. 307-324.

means of several glasses, through the winding passages,) be seen ,to be in the building. So exactly is an image reflected from glass to glass ; and, when it has been presented to tis on- the-left-hand, it happens afterwards that it is produced on-the- right ; and thence it returns again, and changes to the same position as before.

Moreover, whatever small sides or plates there are of glasses, formed with a round flexure similar to that of our own side, they, on that account, reflect to us images in the right posi^ turn; ^ either because the image is transferred from glass to glass, and thence, being twice reflected, flies forward to us ; or, again, because the image, when it comes forth, is turned about, inasmuch as the curved shape of the glass causes it to wheel itself round to us.

Further, you would suppose that our images in a mirror advance together with us, ^d place their foot tjoith ours, and imitate our gesture ; which appearance happens from this cause, that from whatever part of the mirror you recede, the images, after that moment, cannot be reflected from that part, since nature obliges all images to be reflected from mirrors, (as well as to fly off from objects,) according to the corresponding ges- tures of the person whom they represent^

^ They, on that account, reflect to us images in the right position,'^ Ver. 314. Dextera ed propter nobis simulacra remittunt, I have trans- lated dextera according to the notion of Lambinus : quorum dextrm partes nostris dextris respondent. But what sort of glasses are intend- ed, or in what position we must conceive them placed, is very far from clear. I was inclined at one time to thii^k that the columnar- concave mirror was meant, so that de speculo in speculum, ver. 315, might signify from side to side of the glass; and there is nothing in the text to contradict this supposition, unless it be said that de spe- culo in speculum will not beisir this signification; but this I may be allowed to doubt. Lambinus, however, explains it, teres speculifigura instar columna, evidently thinking the shape convex. Other com- mentators say nothing to the purpose. The notion of concavity seems rather to be favoured by ver. 318. Flexa Jigura docet speculi convortier ad nos : sc, imaginem. And Gassendi, De Physiologid Epicuri, vol. ii. p. 260, thinks that concave mirrors were meant

- According to the corresponding gestures of the person whom they represent, ~\ Ver. 324. Ad tequos reddita Jlexus. Creech foolishly in- terprets ad (Bquosjlexus by " ad aequales angulos." Lucretius had no thought of equal angles. Good rightly understands the passage to signify that the reflected image "must bear each variance of the parent form ; " and Coutures, that the reflexion must be made " per regale opposition des surfaces."

B. IV. 325—364, LUCRETIUS, 159

Bright objects, also, the eyes avoid, and shrink from beholds ing. The sun even blinds you, if you persist to direct your eyes against it ; inasmuch as the power of it is great ; and images from it are borne down impetuously from on high through the clear air, and strike the eyes forcibly, disturbing and causing pain in their sockets.^ Moreover, whatever splen^ dour is strong, often bums the eyes, because it contains many seeds of fire, which produce pain in the organs-of-sight by penetrating into them.

Besides, whatever objects jaundiced persons^ look upon, be- come in their sight yellow like themselves ; because many atoms of yellow colour flow off from their bodies, meeting arid, tinging the images of objects ; and many of the same atoms are moreover mixed in their eyes, which, by their contagion, paint all things with lurid hues.

But when we are in the dark, we see, from the darkness, objects that are in the light, because when the black air of the darkness, being nearer to tis, has entered the open eyes first, and taken possession of them, the bright white air immediately follows, which, as it were, clears them, and dispels the black shades of the other air ; for this lucid air is by many degrees more active, and far more subtle and powerful : which, as soon as it has filled with light, and laid open, the passages of the eyes, which the dark air had previously stopped, plain images of objects immediately follow and strike upon the eyes, so that we see those objects which are situated in the light. This, on the other hand, we ciinnot do, when we looh from the light to- wards objects in the dark, because the thicker air of darkness follows behind the light air; which thicher air fills the pores, and stops up the passages of sight, so that the images of any things whatsoever, being involved in it, cannot be moved forward into the eyes.^

And when we behold the square towers of a city a long

* Their sockets.] Ver. 329. Composituras, " Tic ap/io*yac." Lam- bintts. The settings of the eyes.

* Besides, whatever objects jaundiced persons, 4r^.] Ver. 334. QiuBcunqtie tuentur Arquati, " The explanation is extremely apposite, and, upon the Epicurean system of effluvia, highly ingenious." Good.

* Images — cannot be nvoved /onrarrf into the eyeaj] Ver.^ 353. Ne simtdacra Possint ullarum rerum contecta moveri. My translation is based upon Wakefield's interpretation.

160 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 356—383.

way ofP, it happens, on account of the distance^ that thej often seem round, because every angle, hemg afar off, is seen as ob- tuse, or rather is not seen at all; the impulse of its image dies away, and the force of it does not reach to our eyes ; since, while the images of it are borne through a large body of air, the air, by frequent percussions upon them, obliges that ybrce to become-inefiectiye. Hence it comes to pass, that when every angle has escaped our vision at the same time, the constructed stones are seen as if fashioned to a round ; ^ not, however, like round objects which are immediately before us, and which are exactly circular, but they appear, as it were, nearly, after a shadowy fashion, resembling them.

Our shadow likewise seems to us to move in the sun, and to follow our footsteps, and to imitate our gesture ; (if you can fancy air, devoid of light, to go forwards, following the move- ments and gesture of men ; for that which we are accustomed to call shadow can be nothing else but air deprived of light ;) evi- dently because the ground, in cert^ spots successively, is excluded from the radiance, wherever we, as we go, obstruct it; and that part of it, which we have left, is again covered with Ught, From this cause it happens, that what was the shadow of our body, seems to be still the same, and to have followed exactly-opposite us. For fresh illuminations of rays are perpetually pouring themselves forth ; and the first dis- appear CLS quickly as wool vanishes, if applied to a fiame.^ By this means the ground is both easily deprived of light, and again covered with it, and discharges from itself the black shadows.

Nor yet in this case do w« allow that the eyes are at all de- ceived ; for it is their business only to observe in whatever place there may be light or shade ; but whether the light is the same or not, and whether the same shadow, which was

* As if /awAtbn«ito around.] Ver. 362. Quasi td ad tomum, Tomus is generally considered to mean a turner* t wheels or lathe, or turning iron, but seems here to' si^ify the figure formed by such instru- ment. Lambinus reads quasi tomata ut — , and considers that ad tor- num came into the text from a gloss.

* As wool vanishes, if applied to a flame.] Ver. 377. Quasi in ignem lana irahaiur, " Nothing could be imagined more applicable and ex- pressive than this simile ; for whab is consumed quicker than the fine filaments of woolj when they are set on fire ? " Wakejleld. Good re- fers to Isaiah, xlii. 17, "Theyare consumed as tow; " and to Cow- per's Task, ii. 9, ** As the flax That falls asunder at the touch of fire."

B. IV. 384—419. XUCRETIUS. 161

here, passes thither, or rather, as we said before, a new one is constancy produced, — this the judgment of the mind only must determine ; for the eyes cannot know the nature of things ; and therefore you must not impute to the eyes that which may he the fiiult of the understanding.

A ship, in which we sail, is canded forward, when it seems to stand still ; and that which remains stationary, is imagined to go by t» ; and the hills and plains, past which we row our vessel, or fly with sails, seem to flee away astern.

All the stars seem to be at rest, oa being fixed to the vaults of the sky ; and yet all are in perpetual motion ; for when, after rising, they have traversed the heaven with their shining orbs, they return to their distant places-of-setting. And the sun and the moon, in like manner, seem to remain stationary ; bodies which observation itself shows to be carried forwards.

And mountains rising up, at a distance, from the middle of the sea, between which a free passage for ships is open, yet appear without separation^ so that one vast island seems to be formed from the two united.

It likewise happens that to children, after ceasing to whirl themselves about, the rooms seem to turn, and the pillars to run round, so that they can hardly believe that the whole building is not threatening to fall upon them.

And when nature begins to raise on high the beams of the sun, red with tremulous fires, and to exalt them above the hiUs, the hills over which the sun then appears to be, himself apparently touching them close, (glowing with his own beams,) are scarcely distant from us two thousand flights of an arrow, often even scarcely ^yq hundred casts of a dart ; yet between them and the sun, which seems in contact with thern^ lie broad expanses of sea, stretched out under vast regions of sky ; and many thousand miles of land also intervene, which various nations of men, and tribes of wild beasts, occupy and overrun. And, to mention another ocular delusion, a puddle of water, not deeper than a finger, which settles among the stones in the paved streets, affords, apparently, a prospect downwards under the earth, to a depth as great ^ as the height to which the lofty arch of heaven extends above the earth ; so that you seem to look down upon the clouds and to see a heaven be-

» To a depth as great.] Ver. 417. Impete tanto. " Id est tant& at- titudine." Lambintis,

J 62 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 420-^7.

neathy and to behold, by a surprising effect, the celestial bodies buried in the sky under ground.

Moreover, when a spirited courser sticks fast with us in the middle of a river, and we l©ok down into the swiftly-flowing water of the stream, a force seems to be carrying the body of the horse, though standing still, in a contrary direction to the current^ and to drive it rapidly up the river ; and, whitherso- ever we turn our eyes, all objects appear to us to be carried along, and to flow,' in a similar manner.

A portico, too, although it be of equal dimensions through- out, and standing supported with equal columns from-end-to- end, yet, when it is viewed from the extremity through its whole length, contracts gradually, as it were, to the apex of a tapering cone, joining the roof to the floor, and all the right- hand parts to the left, until it has narrowed-itself to the in* distinct point of the cone.

To sailors at sea it occurs that the sun, having risen from the waves, seems also to set, and bury its light, in the waves ; as, in their situation, they behold nothing else but water and sky; a remark which I make, that you may not lightly sup- pose that the senses are altogether deceived.

But to those ignorant of the sea,^ ships in the harbour often appear to strive, disabled in their equipments, against the broken waves ; for though whatever part of the oars is raised above the water of the sea, is straight, and the part of ih^ helm above the water is straight, the parts which go down, and are sunk in the water, seem all, as ^broken, to be turned and in- verted, sloping upwards, and, thtLS bent back, to float almost up to the surface of the water.

And when the winds, in the night time, carry light vapours athwart the sky, the bright constellations seem then to glide against the clouds, and to pass along on high in a far different direction than that in which they are really borne.^

* Altogether deceived.] Ver. 436. Labefactari undigue,

* But to those ignorant of the sea, S^c] Ver. 437.

At maris ignaris in portu clauda videntur Navigia aplustris, fractas obnitier undas.

" Aplmtria are ornaments of ships ; but the word, in this passage, signifies all parts of the vessel that rise above the water, as is shown by what follows." Creech. See ii. 555, The lines are not very satisfac- tory. Lambinus reads aplwtris JractiSf which makes better sense. ^ Really borne.] Ver. 44-7. Ratione feruntur, *AXfi^i!tQ,6vr(iiQ, Fdber,

B. IV. 448-474, LUCRETIUS. 163

But if by chance the hand, applied to one eye, presses it underneath, it happens, by some impression on the sense, that all things, at which we look, seem to become double as we gaze on them ; two lights in the lamps appear blossoming with lames ; the twin furniture seems to be doubled throughout the house ; and the faces of the people seem double, and their persons double.

Moreover, when sleep has bound our limbs in agreeable re- pose, and the whole body lies in profound rest ; yet, at that very time, our limbs appear to be awake and to move them- selves, and we imagine that, in the thick darkness of night, we see the sun, and the light of day ; and, though in a con- fined place, we seem to change our position with respect to the heaven, the sea, rivers, and mountedus, and to cross over plains on foot, and to hear sounds, though the unbroken silence of night reigns around us, and to utter words, though our tongue3 remain still.

Other things of this class, exciting our wonder, we see in great numbers; all which seek, as it were, to destroy the credit of our senses : but they strive in vain ; since the greatest part of these appearances deceive us only because of the fancies which we allow to bear upon them; so that those things which have not been seen by our senses, are to us as if seen. For nothing is more difficult than to separate certain from doubtful things; things which the mind, when their fallaciousness is discovered, straightway rejects from itself.^

Moreover, if any one believes that nothing is known,^ he himself, also, knows not whether that can be known from which he, forming a judgment, confesses that he knows nothing. Against him, therefore, I shall forbear to urge argument, who, of his own will, has placed himself with his face towards his footsteps.^ And although I should even grant that he knows

> Things which the mind — straightway rejects from itself,] Ver. 469. Animtts quas ah se protinus ahdit, '* Abdit, says Wakefield, " repeUit, rgicitf rejects the doubtful, that it may admit the certain." Lach- mann^ with Lambinus and Creech, reads cA 9e acidity that is, " adopts from Its own fancy."

' Moreover, if any one believes that nothing is known, ^c,"] Ver. 470. *' These observations are directed against the Academics, who contend that nothing can be known and that the senses are falla- cious and deceitful." Lambimis,

* Who, of his own will, has placed himself with his face towards

M 2

164 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 475^-489.

this, I should still put to him the following question : when he has seen no truth in things previously, how he knows what it is to know and not to know, in contradistinction to one another ? What cause, / shall ask him, produced his know- ledge of truth and falsehood, and what power has proved to him that what is doubtful diiOfers from what is certain ?

The knowledge of truth, you will £nd, is derived from the senses as-its-origin,^ and t/ou wUl own that the senses cannot be refuted. For that which, of its own power,^ can refute false notions by real fa4:ts, must be found of greater credit than to be liable to confutation. What, then, must be esteemed of greater credit than the senses ? Shall reasoning, arising from erring sense,' — reasoning, I say, which has arisen wholly from the senses, and which can depend on nothing else, — be of suffi- cient force to refute those senses f For unless these, our senses, are true and trust-worthy, all reasoning consequently becomes false and unfounded f But what, that is external to the senses, shall confute the senses, or wiU they disagree among themselves, and refute one another f Will the ears be able to refute the eyes ? Or wiU. the touch refute the ears ? Or will the taste of the mouth, moreover, refute the touch ? Will the

his footsteps.] Ver. 473. Qtd capite ipse suo in statuit vestigia sese, *' The order is, Qui ipse statuit sese suo capite in vestigia : i. e. who has turned his head towards the footsteps which he has left behind him, as if about to go over the same track, and has made no progress." Wakefeld.

^ 'Hie knowledge of truth, you will find, is derived from the senses as its origin, ^(?.j Ver. 479* Invenies primis ah sens^nts esse creatam Notitiam veri. See i. 424. "I think nobody can in earnest," says Locke, '* be so sceptical as to be uncertain of the existence of those things whch he sees and feels. At^ least, he that can doubt so far will never have any controversy with me, since he can never be sure I say any thing contrary to his opinion." Essay, book iv. II, 3, 8.

' For that which, of its own power, ^c] Ver. 481.

Nam majore fide debet reperirier illud, Sponte su^ veris quod possit vincere falsa. It is a question what is to be understood after majore Jide. Greater faith than what ? The commentators give no help. I have added that which makes, I hope, a satisfactory sense. Epicurus called the senses the criteria of truth,

* Shall reasoning, arising from erring sense, 4r^.] Ver. 484. An ab sensufalso ratio orta, &c. If the senses err, reasoning, which is based on the senses, cannot prove that they err. It could only litem lite resolvere. But the senses, as Lucretius proceeds to show, do not err.

B. IV. 490—619. LUCRETIUS. 165

nostrils confute the other senses, or will the eyes contradict themf It is, as I think, not so ; for to each sejtse is separately assigned its own faculty ; each has its own power ; and it is therefore necessary that what is soft, and what is cold, and what is hot, should seem so; and it is necessary, also, that we should perceive distinctly the various colours of things, and whatever things are connected with colours. The taste of the mouth, likewise, has its own power separately ; scents are pro- duced independently, and sounds independently of the other senses; and it necessarily follows, therefore, that some senses cannot confute others. Nor again, will they, as a bodt/y con- fute themselves ; for equal trust must at aU times be placed in every one of them. That, therefore, which, at any time whatsoever, has seemed true to them, is true.

And if reasoning shall be unable to unfold the cause why those objects which, when close at hand, were square, have appeared round at a distance, yet it is heXtex for a man, being partially deficient in reasoning, to give explanations of each figure erroneously, than by any means to let slip ^ from his hands things that are manifest, and to destroy the first prin- ciples of belief, and tear up all the foundations on which life and safety rest. For not only would all reasoning fall to the ground, but life itself would at once come-to-nothing, unless you venture to trust your senses, and to avoid precipices,^ and other things of this sort which are to be shunned, and to pur^ sue those things which are of a contrary character. That, therefore, is all an empty body of words, you may be sure,* which is arrayed and drawn up against the senses.

Lastly, as, in a building, if the rule is wrongly applied at first, if the square, being erroneously placed, deviates from the proper position, and if the level is in the least inexact in any spot, all parts-of-the-edifice are necessarily rendered faulty and distorted, and become ill-shaped, sloping, hanging forwards or backwards, and inconsistent with one another ; so that some

* By any means to let slip.] Ver. 505. Dimittere guoqtuxm. " Glos- sator vetus : Quoquanit oXwc vov, iroi." Wakejield. Lambinus reads gtuBguam,

* To avoid precipices.] Ver. 510. PrtBcipiteaque locos tntare, Rupem et puteum vitare patentem : Hor. Ep. ii. 135. ** Too wise to walk into a well." PM>e,

* You may he sure.] Ver. 512. Tibi. In ver. 621 I have omitted tiln.

166 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 620-554.

seem inclined to fall, and some actually do fall, being all made unsound bj false measures at the commencement. Thus, ac- cordingly, whatever reasoning on things has sprung from fal- lacious senses, must of necessity be erroneous and deceitful. If the senses be false^ all arguments from them must be false.

We have already spoken of sight ; and now no difficult argument is left for us, to show how the other senses discern each its own object*

In the first place, every sound and voice is heard, when, being infused into the ears, they have struck with their sub- stance on the sense. For we must admit that voice and sound are corporeal, since they can make impression on the senses. On this account the voice often abrades the throat, and its loud 0ound, as it passes forth, makes the wind-pipe rougher. For when the atoms of the voice (a larger body of them than ustuil having risen together) have proceeded to go forth from the mouth, the passage of the mouth, from the pores being 411ed up, is rendered hoarse, and the voice injures the road by which it issues into the air. It is by no means to be doubted, therefore, that voices «nd words consist of corporeal particles, as having p6wer to cause corporeal injury*

Nor does it escape your knowledge, also, how much sub- smnce perpetual speaking, protracted from the rising splen- dour of Aurora to the shade of black night, detracts from the body, and how much it wears away from the very nerves and strength of men, especially if it is uttered with extreme loud- ness. The voice, therefore, must necessarily be corporeal, since he who speaks much, loses, from its. effect, a portion of bis corporeal-substance.

Nor do the particles of sound penetrate the ear under a like form, when the crooked barbarian trumpet bellows hea- vily with a deep murmur, and calls up a hoarse dead-sound ; and when swans, in the pangs of death, raise, with a mourn- ful voice, a liquid dirge from the tales of Helicon.

These words and sounds, therefore, (when, being formed within, we expel them from our body, and send them forth straight by the mouth,) the active tongue, skilful-in-forming words, articulates ; and the shape into which the lips aro put, partly assists to fashion them. But asperity of the voice is caused by asperity of its particles, and its smoothness is also produced by their smoothness.

B. IV. 655^583. LUCRETIUS. 167

For this reason, when the distance is not great to the spot whence each word, having started forth, arrives at our ears, it happens, of necessity, that the words themselves are also plainly heard, and distinguished in-every-note ; for the voice keeps its formation, and maintains its figure. But if a greater space than is convenient is interposed, the words, passing through a large hody of air, are necessarily confused, and the voice, while it files through the aerial-interval, is disordered. It accordingly happens that you hear a sound, but cannot distinguish what is the meaning of the words ; ^ so confused and obstructed does the voice come to you.

Besides, one word, uttered from the mouth of a crier in the midst of the people, often penetrates the ears of all. One voice, therefore, suddenly divides into many voices, since it distributes itself to each individual ear, stamping on t/; a« it were, the form and clear sound of the words. But that part of the several voices which does not fall on the ears them- selves, is lost, being carried past them, and difiused through the air. Some portion of it /^o, struck against solid objects, and rebounding like a stone,^ returns a sound, and sometimes mocks you with the semblance of a word.

Which things when you consider, my good friend, yon may be able to render an account to yourself and others, how rocksi in solitary places, regularly return similar forms of words to those which toe utter, when we seek our companions wandering among the shady hills, and call them, as they are scattered abroad, with a loud voice. I have noticed places repeat sii or seven words, when you uttered only one ; for the moun- tains, reverberating the words spoken, repeated them so that they were re-echoed ' without change.

Such places the neighbouring people protend that Satyrs and Nymphs inhabit $ and say that there are Fauns in them, by

^ Cannot distinguish what is the meaning of the words.] Ver. 562» Neque oUam Intemoscere, verborum senientia gtue sit : i. e. oUam aenterUiam^ qum sit, or qtuB sit oUa sententia* Lambinus^ for oUam, reads hilttm,

• Rebounding like a stone.] Ver. 572. Lapis r^ta. This is Wakefield's reading and interpretation. But the soundness of the passage is very doubtful. Lachmann, following Lambinus, reads rars solidis adlisa locis, r^ecta sonorem, &c.

• Repeated them so that they were re-echoed.] Ver. 501. Iterabani vferri, " Id est, uffre referri, ita ut referrentur." Wakefield.

168 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 634-617.

whose noise, and sportive play, re-echoing through the night, they universally affirm that the dead silence is broken, and that sounds of chords and sweet plaintive-notes are heard, which the pipe, struck with the fingers of those playing, pours forth around. They relate, also, that the race of husbandmen hear far and wide, when, frequently. Pan, shaking the piny garland of his half-savage head, runs over the open reeds with his curved lip, ceasing not to repeat^ his sylvan song. Other wonders and prodigies of this kind they relate, lest, perhaps, they should be thought to dwell in lonely places, deserted even by the gods ; for this reason they talk of such marvels in their discourse, or, perchance, are prompted by some other cause, as all men are too eager for ears Ma/ will listen to wonderful stories?

Furthei*more, it is not surprising, how, through places where the eyes cannot discern plain objects, through these «ery places voices pass, and excite the ears. We often, too, wit- ness a dialogue hdd between two persons in differeni apart- ments, with the doors closed. The cause is evidently this, that the voice can pass unbroken through winding pores of bodies, though images refuse to pass through them; for the latter are broken to pieces, unless they go through straight passages, such as those of glass, through which every image flies.

Besides, the voice is distributed in all directions, inasmuch as some voices are produced from others ; for this happens where one voice has split itself into many, as a spark of fire, when it has started forth, is often wont to disperse itself into its own separate fires. Places, accordingly, which have been all shut up behind and around the specter, are filled with voices, and shaken with sound. But o^ybr images, they all, when once they have been thrown off, pass only by straight open- ings, for which reason no one can see objects beyond walls, though he may hear voices yrom beyond them. And yet this very voice, also, while it goes through the obstructed passages, is dulled, and we seem to hear a sound rather than distinct words.

Thaifcumlty, by which* we perceive taste, the organs being

/ Ceasing not to repeat.] Ver. 591. Ne cesaet fimdere, * Too eagper for ears that wiU litten to wonderful stories,'] Ver. 596.

Avidwn nimis auricuiarum, ** Men, being eager for listeners, invent

stories to attract them." Lambintui, ' That faculty, by which, 4rc'.] Ver. 617. Hoc, jt4 sentimus aucum,

B. IV. 618—640. LUCEETIUS. 169

the tongue and the palate, requires for itself somewhat more argument and more explanation.

In the first place, we perceive savour in the mouth, when we express it from food by mastication ; as when any one, for example, proceeds to press and dry with his hand a sponge full of water. What we express, is then distributed through all the ducts of the palate, and the tortuous pores of the soft tongue.^ By this means, when the atoms of the juice flowing out are smooth, they touch the sense agreeably, and affect all parts^ around the humid exuding regions of the tongue, with plea- sure. But, on the other hand, as atoms are severally more endowed with roughness, so much the more, issuing forth in a body,^ they sting and lacerate the sense.

Moreover, pleasure experienced from the taste of food is limited by the extent of the palate ; as, when the juice has descended downwards through the throat, there is no enjoy- ment while it is all being distributed through the members ; nor is it of any consequence with what food the body is nourished, so that you be but able to disperse what you take, when digested, through the organs, and preserve the humec- tant^ tenor and cuition of the stomach.

I wiU now explain, (in order that we may understand this point,) how it is that different food is allotted to different ant- mals, or why that which is sour and bitter to some, may yet seem to others extremely sweet. And so great is the differ- ence and variety in these matters, that that which to some is food, to others is rank poison. Thus it happens that a ser- pent, which is touched with human saliva,^ perishes, and even

lingua atgue pcUatum, Pltuctdum habent in ae rtUionia, &c. The hoc is Wakefield's reading, and makes the passage nonsense. Lambinus reads Hoc queia, and Lachmann gives Nee gt4, Wakefield interprets his hoe by htsc res, and I have endeavoured to make the best of that which is bad.

* Soft tongue.] Ver. 623. JRara lingua. Of a spongy consistence, its atoms not being closely combined.

' Issuing forth in a body.] Ver. 627. Coorta,

' Humectant.] Ver. 634. Stomachi humectum aervare tenorem, •* By kumectus tenor stomachi he means that copious and constant supply of saliva and juices, which sufiices to digest the food." Bavercamp,

* A serpent, which is touched with human^ saliva, igc,]^ Ver. 640. Serpens hominis quce tacta salivis^ Disperit, This was a notion among the ancients. Lambinus refers to Plin. N. H. vii. 2 ; and it is also to be found in Aristotle and Galen.

^^0 LUCKEnUS* B. IV. 641-676.

ccKmmitB miinde by biting himself. Besides, hellebore id atroiig poieon to us, but increases the fat of goats and quails.

That you may understand by what means this happens, it becomes you in the first place to call to mind what we have often said before, that in bodies are contained many seminal- atoms, mingled in many ways. Moreover, as all living crea- tures, which take food, are dissimilar externally, and as the extreme outline of their limbs restricts them variously accord- ing to their kinds, so th^y likewise consist of different seminal- particles, and vary in the figure of their elements. Further, when the seminal-particles differ, their intervals and passages, which we call pores, in all the limbs, and in the mouth, and the palate itself, must likewise differ. Some of these pores, therefore, must be greater, and some less ; some animals must have triangular pores, some square ; m2LViy pores must be round, and some polygonal, varied in several ways. For as the na- ture of the shapes of the seminal-particles^ and their motions, require, the figures of the pores must differ accordingly, and the intervals among the atoms must vary just as the combina-^ tion of the atoms demands. On this account, when that which is sweet to some animals is bitter to others, exquisitely-smooth atoms must enter gently and easily into the pores of the palate of that animal to whom it is sweet ; but, on the contrary, rough and jagged particles, as is evident, pierce the "mouths of those animals to whom the same substance is bitter.

From these facts it is now easy to understand every parti- cular connected with this subject. For when in any person fever has arisen from the superabundance of the bile, or any violence of disease has been excited by any other means, his whole body is at once disturbed, and all the positions of the atoms in him are changed ; it happens that particles which before suited his sense of taste, are now unsuitable to it, and others, which, when they have penetrated the pores, produce a bitter sensation, are more adapted to it. For even in sweet bodies, as in the fiavour and substance of honey, both rougJi and smooth particles are mixed ; a fact which we have de- monstrated to you frequently before.^

And now give me your 2Xt&at\on further; fOr I shall show in what manner the approach of odour affects the nostrils.

' Demonstrated to you frequently before.] Ver. 674. See i. 815, 894 ; ii. 585.

B. IV. 677--705; J-TJCRETIUS. 1*71

First, there must necessarily exist many substances, from which a varied effluence of odours streams forth and evolves itself ; for that odours do both flow off, and are sent forth and dispersed abroad, we must naturally suppose. But certain odours, on account of the different shapes q/* their particles, are more suited to some animals than to others : and thus bees are attracted by the smell of honey in the air, however fai* distant, and vultures by the smell €f careaB^es ; also the keen-* scett of dogs, preceding ^€ir steps, leads them^ Whithersoever the cloven hoof of the stag has directed its course ; and the white goose, the preserver of the citadel of the Romans, per- ceives from afar the smell of a man* Thus different scent assigned to different animals, leads each to its own food, and causes it to recoil from destructive poison ; and by this means the tribes of beasts are preserved.

Of this very odour, then, which excites the nostrils, it hap- pens that one kifid is carried farther than another ; but yet none of them is carried so far as sound, or as the voice; — I forbear to say as those airy substances which strike the eyes, and excite vision. For odour, wandering about, passes but slowly, and, being dispersed through the yielding air, soon gradually dies away ;^ chiefly because it is with difficulty evolved out of any substance from its interior. For that odours flow and come forth from the interior of substances, this consideration sufficiently indicates, that all bodies when broken, bruised, or split into fragments in the fire, seem to cast a stronger scent than when whole. It is, besides, easy to see that odour is composed of larger atoms than sound ; since it does not penetrate through stone walls, through which the voice and sounds constantly pass. For which reason you will see that it is not so easy to ascertain in what quarter a body that casts a scent is placed, as to^ndoutane that emits a sound. For the force and impulse of an odour, by moving slowly through the air, soon becomes chill and powerless ; nor do <Atf

* The keen-scent of dogs, preceding t?ieir steps, leads them,'] Ver. 683. Permissa canum vis Ducit. Gronovius, cited by Havercamp, interprets permissa, "aecffowco, wdtifra,** or "penetrans, long^ mis-* sa. " Ft* I take in the sense of faculty, keen-scent. In Virgil's odora canum vis, (Mn, iv. 132,) it probably means force, number , multitude.

« Soon gradually dies away.] Ver. 694. Perit antt Paullatim. I have considered ant^ equivalent to soon. Creech interprets it, " an- tequam longum iter conficiat."

172 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 706—740.

atoms, the heralds of substances, come warm to the sense. From this cause dogs are often at fault, and have to seek for traces of (he scent.

Nor does this occur, indeed, in respect to odours only, and in the case of tastes; but the appearances and colours of things, likewise, do not so agree with the senses of all men alike, but that some are more acrid and repulsive to the sight than others. - Even fierce lions cannot endure to stand against, and to look upon, a cock, which, as his flapping wings startle the night,^ is accustomed to call Aurora with his loud voice ; lionsy I say, will not endure him, so suddenly do they bethink them of flight ; the cause evidently being, that there are in the bodies of cocks certain particles, which, when sent forth into the eyes of lions, pierce the pupils, and cause sharp pain, so that the beasts^ hoivever fierce cannot hold out against them, although these same particles cannot at all hurt our eyes ; either because they do not penetrate, or because, if they do penetrate, a free outlet from the 'eye is permitted to them, so that they cannot in any respect hurt the organs of sight by remaining in them.

And now give me your attention, and learn what substances affect the mind ; and understand, in a few words, whence those things which come into the mind proceed.

In the first place, I assert this, that numbers of subtle images of things wander about in many ways in all directions; images which, when they meet, are easily united together in the air, as the spider's web, and a leaf of gold. For these images are far finer in their texture than those which aflect the eyes and excite vision ; since these penetrate through the small pores of the body, and excite the subtle substance of the mind within, and arouse the sense.

Thus it is that we see Centaurs, and the members of Scyllas, and the Cerberean mouths of dogs, and the apparitions of those whose bouQs, after death has been passed, the earth con- tains. Since spectra of all kinds are every where carried about, which are partly such as are formed spontaneously in the air, partly, whatever fly off from various objects ; and partly, those which images, formed of figures of these two kinds,

' As his flapping wings startle the night.] Ver. 712. Noctem ex- plodefUibua alia, '* His wings disturbing and driving away the night with sound and flapping.*' Lambinua.

B. IV. 741— 763. LDCRBTID8. 173

compoae.' For assuredly the image of a Centaur is not formed from a living Centaur, since there has been no such figure in life; but when the images of a horse and a man haT« come together by chance, they easily and quickly cohere, (as we said before,) because of their subtle nature and filmy texture.

Other imoffts of this sort are produced in the same manner ; and since these, from their extreme lightness, are, as I have shown above, swiftly carried aboot, any one thin image (^ them all easily stimulates our mind with a single' impression ; for the mind is itself subtle and eminently excitable.

That these things take place, as I state, you may easily learn from hence ; that inasmuch as this impression on the mind* is similar to that on the bodily senses, it necessarily follows that thai which we see with the mind, and that toMch die fMwith the eye, are effected by similar means. As I have shown, accordingly, that I perceive Uont, for example,' by means of images of lions, which excite the eyes ; we may nn> derstand that the mind is moved by images of lions in like manner, and by other images of oAer things,* which it sees mid diteerTU equally and not less than the eyes ; only we must observe that it Bees more subtle images.

Nor for any other reason does this sense of -the mind be- come awake when sleep Jias spread itself over the limbs, than because these same images excite our minds, which affect our senses when we are corporeally awake ; to such a degree that we seem plainly to behold him, of whom, his life having

' Partly, l/u>ae which itnaget, formed of figurea of these ttaa iirult, compoae.J Ver. 740. El gar confidiait ex honim facta fiyurit. " Et quaB imagines BimulBCrB, ex horum duorum figuris facta, conflci- unt." Wakejittd.

' Inasmuch as this impraavm on tht mind, Je.] Ver. 7S2. Quatenus hoc simile est illi, quod mente videmns Atque oculis, simili fieri ratione necesse est. " Hoc simile ett itti; thii is like to that ; namely, tlie image in the mind to the image which «trikeB the eyes ; and therefore ptod tmnte videmtii el fwJocuiw nWemtM, what we sec with ilie mind, and what we see with the eye, must be aimilarlj produced." JVniefield,

' For example.] Ver. 754. Forte. ''Quasi itn dicat: finge me aliquo OBBU leonea videre." Lamiitiiu. " Verbi EratiS." CrtecH.

' By imagea of lions, andby other imagei of otAer (Ainff*.] Ver.

7S7. Per simulacra leonum, celgra, gu^ videt isqur. Nee minus, aigue eeuU. " Per aimulacra leoDum et cetera tinnilacra, (i. e. alianun return nmu- lacra,) qusvidet aequfe atque oculi." Forbigtr.

174 LlFCRErnJS. «L IT. 75t— IS4.

been jidded op^ death and tiie earth hare alieadj taken pos- Mjaion. This Hatme of neccMaJty fani^s to pass ; amd ftossi tins cause, tint all the senses of the bod j, bein^ obstructed inMl 6011MI ip ly jIb^ aie at rest thiooghoiit the jevrrol ben^ and are nnaUe to lefiite an j fidae ttppcaramct bj vol fiwISL Beside^ the weanarj lies inactiTe and torpid in sleep ; and shows no disbelirf ta appearamea^ or bdumates that he, whom the mind imagines that it sees afiTe, has kx^ ago par- taken of death and forgetfnbiesaL

As to what remains ^^^yr eomtidtraiiom^ it is not sarprisin^ that images shoold more^ and agitate their aims^ and other memben^ with r^^ohvil^ ; for it h^pens that matnf an image seems to do this in OKT sleepu TldMutoheerpUnmedukih^i^Ar kwing waf ; that when the first image passes ofi^ and a second is afterwards prodnoed in another position, the fonner then seems to have changed its gesture. Thi% doubtless, we most eonoeive to be done b^ a very n^id process ; so great is the activT^ cf imagetf and so great the number of things jfrom whkk dk^ proceed; and so great too is the abundance of atoms^ thiU it maj suffice for that which is to be peroeiTed by ike temtetf at an j time whatsoerer. And manj other ques- tions are raised on these matters, and manj points must be made dear bj us, if we wish to explain these suljects dis* tinctlj.

In the first places it is inquired whj the mind immediatelj thinks of that verj thing of Jwhidi an j one has desired to tbink.^ Do images watch our pleasure, and, as soaa as we wish, does an image present itsdf to us ? If it is our desire io ihuUt of the sea, 61 the earth, cmt of the heaTen, of assem- blies of men, of a procession, of banquets, of battles, does nature create and prepare image$ of iSL Aewe tkimgs at our word? Espedallj when the minds of different men in the same countrjr and places think of things entirdj difierent ?

What shall we Jogr, moreoTer, when we perceive images in our sleep advance brfore us in order, and move their pliant limbs ; when, as we observe iJkem^ thej wave with ease their bending anns alternatdj, and repeat gesture i^lier ^iesteFe with the foot corresponding to the look ? Are images, forsooth, inspired with tiie art of dancmy, and do thej, skiDed in ges-

' Of which any one has desired to think.] Ver. 781. Qttod emi^ye libido Ven/erU. Thai is, qwod adgme Uhtent {eoyiiart).

B, IV. 795-813. LUCEETIUS. 1 75

twulatioTiy wander about, in order that they may make sport ybr us in the night time ? Or will this rather be ikhe truth, that we perceive that variety of motions in one artd the same por- tion of time ; as in that time in which one word is uttered,' many smaller portions of time, (which reason discovers to be

in itj) are contained ? From this cause it happens, that

at any time whatsoever, any images are ready at hand, pre- pared for all places ; so great is their activity, and so great the abundance of objects from which they proceed. By this means, when the first image passes away, and a second is afterwards produced in another position, the first then seems to have changed its gesture.

And because images are subtle, the mind cannot acutely discern any but those which it earnestly endeavours to discern; all, therefore, which exist besides these, pass away unnoticed, unless the mind has thus prepared itself and endeavoured to distinguish them. The mind, accordingly, does prepare itseli, and expects that that will occur which is consequent ^ on that which has preceded; so that it observes each particular oc- currence. Thtcs, therefore, the effect is produced,

* Do you not see, also, that the feyes, when they have begun to look at things which are small^ exert and prepare them- selves ; and that we could not, without this exertion, clearly discern them ? And even in respect, also, to objects easily dis- tinguishable, you may observe, that if you do not apply your mind to remark any one of them, it is just the same as if it

* As in that time in which one word is uttered, S^c,] Ver. 797.

Consentimus id, ut, quum Vox emittitur un^ Tempora multa latent, ratio quae comperit esse.

Does one time comprehend the motions of several times, as the pro- nunciation of one word comprehends the times of pronouncing each syllable ? See Wakefield. Lachmann ejects the first of these two verses. It had previously been condemned by Lambinus and Fa- ber. ** Ou bien ne sera-t-il pas plus veritable, que dans^ le terns que nous exprimons notre pens^e par quelque voix, if y a plusieurs instans cachez dans 1' espace de ce terns, par le moyen desquels V agilit^ des images aussi bien que leur ecoulement universel, foumit en quelque tems que ce soit, de quoi remplir la variety de la pens^e." Couturea, ' Expects that that will occur which is consequent, 4r<^.] Ver. 807* Speratque fixturum^ Ut videatt quod consequitur, rem quamqve, I have translated this according to the notion of Forbiger, as it is his text. Speratque futurum quod consequiiuTt ut videat rem quamque. Other editions (except Wakefield's) put no stop after consequUur,

176 . LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 814—829.

were all the time removed and far distant //*o»i youf How is it therefore surprising, if the mind loses sight of all other images, except those concerning matters to which it is itself directed? Besides, we form opinions of great things from small indications, and thus lead ourselves into the delusion of deceit

It happens, also, that sometimes a second image is not pre- sented of the same kind as the first, but that that which was before a woman under our hands, seems to be before tis changed into a man ; or that one face, and one age follows after another ; but at this, sleep and oblivion prevent us from wondering.

In these matteris, remember fhat it is necessary diligently to shun this fault, ^ and to avoid it cautiously, as a most griev- ous error ; the fault, namely, of supposing that all the parts of animals were formed with a view to the uses to which they have been adapted; lest you should suppose that the bright luminaries of the eyes were produced that we may be able to see with them; and that the pillars of the legs and thighs, built upon the feet, were united for this purpose, that we might

* In these matters, remember that it is necessary diligently to shun this fault, 5-c.] Ver. 824.

niud in his rebus vitium vehementer inesse Effu^ere errorem, vitareque praemetuenter, Lumma ne facias oculorum clara creata, Prospicere ut possimus.

It would occupy too much space to cite all the different readings of this passage, and the emendations which have been proposed. All commentators have seen that there is no satisfactory sense to be ex- tracted from it as it stands. I have imderstood memento : (memento) inesse in his rebus vehementer effugere illud vitium (quasi) errorem, ^c. The only successful correction is Lachmann*s, who alters the first line to Illttd in his vitium vehementer rebu* necesse est ; a conjec- ture which the shades of Lambinus and Faber may wonder that they missed.

'* Lucretius maintains that the eye was not made for seeing, nor the ear for hearing. But the terms in which he recommends this doctrine show how hard he knew it to be for men to entertain such an opinion. * * ^* Undoubtedly the poet is so far right, that a most 'vehement caution and vigilant premeditation' are necessary to avoid the vice and error of such a persuasion. The study of the adaptations of the human frame is so convincing, that it carries the mind with it, in spite of the resistance suggested by speculative systems." WhetoeWs Bridgeuxxter Treatise, p. 351.

B. IV. 830-865. LUCRETIUS. 177

take long steps on the road ; and, moreover, that the fore-arms fitted to the stout upper arms, and the hands ministering on either side, were given tts that we might perform those offices which would be necessary for the support oflik.

Other suppositions of this sort — whatever explanations men give — are all preposterous, reasoning being ^us perverted. For nothing was produced in the body to the end that we might use it ; but that which has been produced, being found serviceable for certain ends, begets use. Neither was the fa- ctdty , of seeing in existence before the light of the eyes was made, nor that of speaking with words before the tongne was formed ; but rather the origin of the tongue long preceded speech, and the ears were made long before any sound was heard ; and, in fine, all members, as I think, existed before there was any use of them discovered.^ They could not, there- fore, have been produced for the sake of being used.

But, on the contrary, to engage in battle with the hand, and to tear the limbs, and to pollute the body with gore, was prac- tised long before bright darts were hurled ; and nature com- pelled us to avoid a wound, before the left hand, by the help of art, presented the defence of a shield.

And, certainly, to ccunmit the wearied body to rest is of much more antiquity than the soft cushions of the couch ; and to quench the thirst wa^ practised before cups were invented.

Such things as these, then, which were found out from expe- rience and the objects of life, may be believed to have been in- vented for the purpose of using them; those things, however, which were all first produced independently, gave a knowledge of their utility afterwards. Of which kind, especially, we see that the senses and members of the body are. Wherefore again and again Isai^, it is impossible for you to believe^ that they could have been produced for the sake of use.

This, also, is not to be wondered at, that the very nature of the body of every animal requires food. For I have shown that many atoms pass off and recede from substances in many ways ; but the most numerous must pass off from animals ; because they are exercised by motion, and many particles are carried forth, urged from the interior of the body, by perspir- ation ; many, also, are exhaled through the mouth, when they

* It is impossible for you- to believe.] Ver. 857. Procul eat ut credere possis.

178

LTJCEETIUS. B. IV. 866—895.

pant from weariness. By these means, therefore, the body wastes, and all its nature is undermined ; a state on which pain is attendant. On this account food is taken, that it may support the limbs, and, being given at intervals, may recruit the strength, and repress the eager desire of eating through- out the organs and veins. %

Liquid also descends into all parts of the body^ whatsoever require liquid ; and the moisture, coming into the frame^ dis- sipates the many collected atoms of heat, which cause a burn- ing in our stomacli, and extinguishes them like fire, so that arid heat may no longer dry up our limbs. Thus, therefore, you see, panting thirst is expelled from our bodies ; thus the pining desire of food is satisfied.

I will now state how it comes to pass that we can advance

our steps when we please, and how it is given us to move

our limbs out-of-the-direct-line ; ^ and what cause is wont to

push forward this great weight of our body. Do thou, my

friend, attentively-receive my instructions.

1 affirm, then, that images of going first approach to the mind, and impinge on the mind, as we observed before re- specting images in general. Thence arises will, for no man begins to do any thing, before his mind has discerned what it will do. And according to what it discerns, is the image of his action.^ When, theivefore, the mind so stirs itself, that it desires to proceed and move forward, it immedi- ately acts on the substance of the soul, which is distributed in the whole body, and through the limbs and joints ; and this is easily done, since the substance of the soul is held united with the mind. That substance of the soul forthwith acts upon the body ; and thus, by degrees, the whole mass of the man is protruded and TCLoy^^ forwards.

The body at that time, moreover, opens its pores, and the air, which is always easily excited to motion, enters, as it na- turally must indeed, through the open spaces, and penetrates

> Out-of-the-direct-line.] Ver. 879. Varl, Wakefield's reading for the varil of other editors.

2 And according to what it discerns is the image of his action.] Ver. 886. /«?, quod providet, illius ret constat imago, ** Id, nempe secundum, icarA.'* Wake/ield, So likewise ForUger, Lambinus reads At quod, S^c, and interprets the passage thus : " That which the mind foresees is the image of that thing which the man wills to do."

B. IV. 896-930. LUCRETIUS. 179

the passages abundantly, and is thus dispersed through every minute portion of the body ; thus, therefore, the body, by two several powers,^ is made to move along as a ship with sails and wind.

Nor yet is it wonderful, in these matters, that atoms so small can wield so great a body, and turn about all our weight. For the wind, though but light atid of thin substance, drives forward a large ship with vast power ; and one hand rules the vessel, with whatever speed it may be going ; while one helm turns it in any direction. And a machine, by the help of wheels and pulleys, lifts many bodies of great weight, and raises them on high with but a slight force.

And now I shaJl explain by what means sleep spreads rest through our limbs, and dispels the cares of the mind from our breast ; but I shall do this rather in agreeably-sounding than in numerous verses, as the short melody of the swan^ is better than the croak of cranes, dispersed among the clouds of hea- ven, driven by the south wind. Do you only, 0 MemmiuSy devote to me your attentive ears and discerning mind, that you may not deny what I say to be possible, and depart from me with a breast repelling true precepts, when you yourself are in fault, and yet cannot perceive that such is the case.

In the first place, sleep occurs when the substance of the soul has been disturbed throughout the several members, and has partly seceded from the body, (as being driven forth abroad,) and has partly, as being more concentrated, retreated into the interior of the body; for then, at length, when the frame is in this state, the limbs are relaxed and lose their power. Since there is no doubt but that this our vital sense exists in us by means of the soul, which sense when sleep hinders from be- ing exerted, we must then suppose that our soul is disturbed, and expelled from the body; btU not wholly, for if it were all ioithdrawn, the body would lie steeped in the eternal cold of death, as, in that case, no part of the soul would remain latent in the members, (concealed as fire lies hidden under thick ashes,) whence the sense might be suddenly rekindled through- out the limbs, and fiame, as it were, rise from secret heat.

But by what means this change from wakefulness to sleep

' By two several powers.] Ver. 897. Rebtts vtrinque duabus. Viz, by the soul and the air. ' Short melody of the swan, ^c,] See on ver. 181.

N 2

180 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 931-962.

is produced, and how the sonl may be disturbed, and the body languish, I will explain. Do you, my friend, take care that I may not pour out my words to the winds.

In the first place, it necessarily happens that the body, since it is touched by the breezes of the air to which it is ex- posed, must be externally assailed and harassed by the frequent impulse of that otr; and, for this reason, almost all animated bodies are covered with hide, or even with shells, or with hard skin, or bark. This same air, likewise, impinges on the in- terior part of the body of animals, when, as they breathe, it is drawn in and respired. For which reason, when the body is affected from both causes,^ and when assaults penetrate through the small pores of our frame to its primary parts and first elements, a l£j)efactation, as it were, takes place by de- grees throughout our members ; for the positions of the ele- ments of the body and mind are disturbed, so that part of the soul is drawn forth from them, and part retires hidden into the interior ; part also, dispersed throughout the limbs, cannot remain united together, nor perform its ordinary motions mu- tually with other parts ; for nature obstructs the communica- tions and passages, and therefore, the motions of the atoms being changed, sense wholly fails.^ And since there remains nothing that can, as it were, prop up the limbs, the body becomes weak, and all its members languish ; the arms and the eye-lids fall, and the hams oflen subside with a sinking lassitude,^ and relax their strength.

Sleep, too, follows upon taking food, because food, while it is being distributed through all the veins, produces the same effects which the air produces ; and that sleep is far the most heavy which you take when full or weary ; because most of the atoms of the frame are then disturbed, being shaken with much efibrt. By the same means, a deeper concussion in the substance of the soul takes place, as well as a larger ejection of it without, and it becomes more divided in itself and dis- tracted within,

* Affected from both causes.] Ver. 940. Uirtnque secus — vapulet. ** Utrinqtte secus, that is, ex uirdgue parte, internally and externally." Wake^ld.

* Wholly fails.] Ver. 950. Abit aM, i. e. penitus^ omnino,

^ Sinking lassitude.] Ver. 954. Cubanti tamd. " By tama is meant excessive fatigue from walking, when the blood settles in the legs, and causes a swelling." Festus,

B. IT. 963—1001. LUCRETIUS. 181

And in general, as each of us, having pursued any study, is devoted to it in his thoughts, or in whatever occupation we have been much engaged previously, — ^and the mind has been more exerted in that pursuit,— we seem, for the most part, to go through the same employments in sleep. Lawyers seem to plead causes and to make laws ; generals to fight and en- gage in battles ; sailors to wage settled war with the winds ; and myself to pursue this work, and investigate perpetually the nature of things, and to explain it, when discovered, in the language of my country^.

Thus other studies and arts seem generally, in sleep, to occupy the minds of men with delusions. And whatsoever per- sons have given continual attention to games and spectacles for many days in succession, we generally see that, in those persons, when they have ceased to observe those objects with their bodily senses, there are yet passages remaining open in the mind, where the same images of the same objects may enter. For very many days, therefore, those same images are presented before their eyes, so that they seem, even when awake, to see figures dancing, and moving their pliant limbs, and to listen with their ears to the liquid music and speaking chords of the lyre ; and, likewise, to perceive the same assem- bly, and to contemplate, at the same time, the various decora- tions of the scene shining before them. Of so great influence is study and inclination, a|;id so much difference does it make in what pursuits, not only men, but indeed all animals, have been accustomed to be engaged. For you will see stout horses, when their limbs shall be stretched in sleep, yet perpetually perspiring and panting, and apparently exerting their utmost strength for the palm of victory, or often starting in their sleep as if the barriers were just set open.

And the dogs of huntsmen, when stretched in gentle repose, often throw out their legs on a sudden, and hurriedly utter cries, and frequently draw in the air with their nostrils, as if they were pursuing the weir/y-discovered traces of wild-beasts; and oftentimes, after they are awakened, they follow in ima- gination the empty images of stags, as if they saw them turned to flight, until, their delusions being dispelled, they return to their senses. And the fawning br^d of dogs that are accus- tomed to the house, begin at times to rouse themselves and start up from the ground, just as if they saw strange faces

182 LUCRETIUS.

and looks. And the more fierce any breeds are, the more must the fiEime breedt show fierceness in their steep. , But various birds, lihewise, take flight, and suddenly disturb with their wings the groves of the gods during the night, if, in their quiet ^ep, hawks have appeared, pursuing and flying after them, to offer battle and threaten hostilities.

Moreover the minds of men, whatever great things they effect with vast efforts in the day, frequently perform and carry on the same things also during their sleep. Kings storm cities,' are taken prisoners, join battle, raise a cry as if they were being stabbed on the spot. Many struggle -desper- ately, and utter groans at if ia pain, and fill all parts arouTtd with loud shrieks, as if they were torn by the bite of a panther or savage lion. Many in sleep speak of important matters ; and men have very often made in dreanu a revelation of their own guilt. Many, apparently, die; many show terror through their whole frame, like persons who are casting them- selves to the ground from high mountains, and, as if deprived of their senses, {so disturbed are they bythe agitation of their body,) scarcely, after sleep, recover themselves.

A thirsty man, also, in his dream, often sits near a river or pleasant fountain, and almost swallows up the whole stream with his mouth. Boys, too, bound fast in sleep, fancy that, being near a tank or broken vessel, they are raising up their garment, and potir forth the bottled_ liquid * of the whole body, when the Babylonian coverlets, of magnificent splendour, are saturated.

Or when, at length,* the full ripe hour is reach'd

Of vigorous manhood, and the genial stores

' Kings Btorm citiei.J Ver. 1010 Reffa ezpugnaiU. " Kingi, whose minds are adtated with miiht; thoughts in the day, are naturally occupied with similar thoughts during the night, and accordingly ttona, e.g. towers, fortresses. Thus rega wifl be the n — ;--'- — case, which I think proper to mention, because some com.„ have injudiciously taken it for the accusative. " IfateJSeld. ' Battled liquid.] Ver. ] 025. Eumormi iivxatum, • Orwhen.atlength,^,] Ver. 1027. Theremainderof this book it i< ihoupht advisable to give in the version of Dr. Good. In tran- scribing It f»r the jirass, six or seven worda, at most, have been altered, partly to make nearer approaches to the teit, and partly for other reasons. What Lucretius here presents to his reader, is a series of philosophical and moral observations and precepts. They

B. IV. 102^-1041, LUCRETIUS. 183

Crowd through the members, ceaseless then, at night,

Forms of the fair, of look and hue divine.

Rush on the spirit, and the ducts of love

So stimulate, where throngs the new-born tide,

That, as the tender toil were all achiev'd.

Full flows the stream, and drowns the snowy vest.

For, as we erst have sung, the seeds of life First spring when manhood first the frame <K)nfirm8« And as on various functions various powers Alone can act propulsive, human seeds By nought but human beauty can be roused. These, when once gender'd from their cells minute O'er every limb, o'er every organ spread. Crowd in full concourse tow'rds the nervous fount By nature rear'd appropriate ; whence abrupt Fxcite they oft, as forms of beauty rise. The scenes at hand, the regions ruled by love«

are subjects, says Good, " that naturally fall within the scope of a poem written expresslv upon the Nature of Thinga" and "our poet is entitled." he adds, "to the loint thanks of naturalists and ana^ tomical pnilosophers for irraoiating their dark and thorny paths with the light and fire of the Muses. * * * Lucretius is a lecturer upon natural philosophy ; he admits us to his theatre, and gravely and scientifically developes the principles of this important subject. * * * A serious and attentive reader of this truly learned, as well as poetical discourse, whether male or female, cannot possibly, I think, peruse it without the acquisition of some degree of useful knowledge ; and even the medical professor himself cannot but be astonished at the copiousness of his research, and the accuracy that accompanies much of its reasoning."

" There is here no impuri^ of lang[uage, nothing that may not be ftientioned with proprie^. If any thing shall appear objectionable, such appearance is to be attributed, not to the fault of tne poet, but to that of the reader." Faber,

'I De amore, sterilitate, foecunditate, et aliis omnibus hanc^ ma- teriam attingentibus, liberiiis forsan et apertitis^ quto nonnulli vel- lent, disputat ; sed philosophis saltem,vel in his tractandis, videtur esse indulgendum. WaJcefield,

Let us also, for once, transcribe a note from Busby. " I have observed," says the Doctor. " that my author addresses himself only to high and cultivated intellect. The remark applies here with pe- culiar force. Lucretius was too much of a man of sense, too much of a philosopher, too well acauainted with human feelings, not to know that the higher order of minds are little liable to^ seduction from the gross exposures of nature ; and only to such minds is his poem addressed."

184 LUCHETIUS. B. IV. 1042—1075.

Then springs the tender tumour, the warm wish

Full o'er the foe, the luscious wound who deals,

With dext'rous aim to pour the high-wrought charge,

And full contending in the genial fight.

So falls the victim on the part assail'd :

With the red blood the glistening bruise so swells ;

And o'er th' assassin flows the tide he draws.

So he who feels the shaft of love propell'd From the dear form that charms him, tow'rds the spot Aims, whence the wound proceeds ; supreme he pants To join the contest, and from frame to frame Pour the rich humour ; for the fierce desire. Now felt, assures how vast the bliss to come. This, this is Venus : this he deems true love ; Hence flow the drops delicious that the heart Erode hereafter, and its train of cares. For, though the form adored be absent, still Her phantoms haunt the lover, and his ear Kings with her name, whatever the path pursued.

Yet fly such phantoms, from the food of love Abstain, libidinous ; to worthier themes Turn, turn thj spirit ; let the race at large Thy liberal heart divide, nor lavish, gross. O'er one fond object thy exhausted strength, Gend'ring long cares, and certain grief at last For love's deep ulcer fed, grows deeper still, Kank, and more pois'nous ; and each coming da^^ Augments the madness, if the wretch, perchance. Heal not old wounds by those of newer date. From fair to fair wide-wand'ring, or his mind Turn from such subjects to pursuits unlike.

Nor are the joys of love from those shut out Who brutal lust avoid ; the pure of heart Far surer pleasures, and of nobler kind, Reap, than the wretch of lewd and low desires, Who, in the moment of enjoyment's self, Still fluctuates with a thousand fears subdued ; O'er the fair wanton, dubious, long who hangs. What charm his eyes, his hands shall first devour : Till fixt, at length, with furious force the spot Painful he presses, through his luscious lips

B. IV. 1076— nor. LUCRETIUS. 185

Drives his keen teeth, and everj kiss indents ; Striving in vain for joys unmix'd, and urg'd By latent stimulus the part to wound, Where'er its seat, that frenzies thus his soul. But Venus softly smooths the wrongs endur'd, And mutual pleasures cheek the lover's rage.

Then hopes he, too, in the same form to quench The madd'ning fires where first the fiame arose. Vain hope, by every fact disproved ; for this, The more the soul possesses, still the more Craves she with keenest ardour. Foods and drinks, As through the frame they pass, by toil worn out, Fill many a huge interstice ; obvious whence Dies the dread sense of hunger and of thirst ; But human beauty, and the rosy cheek. With nought the panting lover can endow But fruitless hopes, but images unsound. Scattered by every wind. As, oft, the man, Parch'd up with thirst, amid his dreams to drink Strives,* but in vain, since nought around him flows But void, unreal semblances of floods ; So with her votaries sports the power of love, False phantoms sole presenting, nor can sight, Where'er it rove, be sated with the gaze, Nor can the lover's lawless fingers tear Aught from his idol, o'er her as he hangs. And the full power of every charm explores.

E'en when, in youth's prime fiower, his panting frame Enclasps her frame that pants, when all his soul Expects the coming bliss, and Venus waits To sow the fertile field, though then amain In amorous fold he press her, lip to lip Join, and drink deep the dulcet breath she heaves, 'Tis useless all ; for still his utmost rage Can nought subtract ; nor through the fair one force

' Parch 'd up with thirst, amid his dreams to drink Strives, ifc,] Ver. 1090. Ut bibere in aomnia sitiens qwun qumrit^ et hwnor Npn da- iur, Isaiah xxix. 8, ** It shall even be as when a hun^pry man dreameth, and, behold, he eateth ; but he awaketh, and his soul is empty : or as when a thirsty man dreameth, and, behold, he drink- eth ; out he awaketh, and, behold, he is faint, and his soul hath ap- petite."

136 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 1108-1128.

His total frame, commingled with herself.

Yet oft thus strives he, or thus seems to strive ;

So strong the toils that bind him ; so complete

Melt all his members in the sea of love.

And though, when now the full-collected shock

Pours from the nerves, some transient pause ensue.

Yet short its period ; the fond fever soon.

The frenzy quick returns, and the mad wretch

Still pants to press that which he press'd before ;

Nor aught of antidote exists, so deep

Pines lie, perplext, beneath the latent ill.

Then, too, his form consumes, the toils of love Waste all his vigour, and his days roll on In vilest bondage. Amply though endow'd, His wealth decays, his debts with speed augment. The post of duty never fills he more. And all his sick'ning reputation dies. Meanwhile rich unguents from his mistress laugh. Laugh from her feet soft Sicyon's shoes superb ; ^ The green-ray'd emerald o'er her, dropt in gold, Gleams large and numerous ; and the sea-blue silk, Deep-worn, enclasps her, with the moisture drunk Of love illicit What his sires amass'd Now flaunts in ribands, in tiaras flames Full o'er her front, and now to robes converts Of Chian loose, or Alidonian mould ; ^ While feasts and festivals of boundless pomp. And costliest viands, garlands, odours, wines,

^ Unguents from his mistress laugh, Laugh from her feet soft Si- cyon's shoes superb.] Ver. 1121. Ungttmta et pulchra in pedibus Sicyonia rident. Shoes from Sicyon were worn only by the showv and luxurious. " If you were to offer me a pair of Sicyonian shoes, says Cicero, (De Orat. i. 54,) "I should not wear them, because, although they might be easy, and fit my foot well, they would ap- pear effeminate."

* Robes — Of Chian loose, or Alidonian mould.] Ver. 1126. In paUam atqve Alidensia Chiaque, Wakefield thinks that Alidensia is for Alindensia, from AUnda, a city of Caria, referring to Plin. N. H. v. 29.^ Chia, also, he derives^ not from the island Chios, but from Chios, another town of Cana, mentioned by Steph. Byzant. ; so that one epithet, he says, supports and illustrates the other. Lambinus and others read Meliteruia Ceaque^ from Melita, or Malta, (Meli^ tenais veatU, Cic. Ver. ii. 74,) and Ceos, an island in the ^gean.

]&. IT. 1129-1163. LUCRETIUS. 187

And scatter'd roses ceaseless are renew'd. But fruitless every art ; some bitter still Wells forth perpetual from his fount of bliss, And poisons every floVret. Keen remorse Groads him, perchance, for dissipated time, And months on months destroyed ; or from the fair Haply some phrase of doubtful import darts, That, like a living coal, his heart corrodes ; Or oft her eyes wide wander, as he deems. And seek some happier rival, while the smile Of smother'd love half-dimples o'er her cheeks.

Such are the ills that on amours attend Most blest and prosperous ; but on those adverse Throng myriads daily, obvious and more keen. Hence, by the muse forewam'd, with studious' heed Shun thou the toils that wait ; for easier far Those toils to shun, than, when thy foot once slides, To break th' entangling meshes and be free.

Yet though insnar'd, and in the silly net Led captive, thou may'st still, if firm of mind, And by these numbers sway'd, thy foot release* First the defects, then, of the form adored, Of mind, of body, let thy memory ne'er One hour forget ; for these full oft mankind See not, by passion blinded ; while, reversed. Charms they bestow Which never were the fair's. Hence frequent view we those, each grace denied, The coarse, the crooked, held in high esteem. And lovers laugh o'er lovers, and exhort Offerings to Venus since so vilely swayed, While yet themselves are swayed more vilely still. To such the black assume a lovely brown ; The rank and filthy, negligence and ease ; The red-eyed is a Pallas ; the firm-limb'd. All bone, a bounding roe ; the pigmy dwarf, A sprightly grace, all energy and wit ; The huge and bulky, dignified and grand ; The stammerer lisps ; the silent is sedate ; The pert virago^ spirit all and fire ; The hectic, fine and delicate of frame ; The victim worn with pulmonary cough,

188 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 1164—1196.

On life's last verge, a maid of matchless waist ; The broad, big-bosom'd, Ceres full displayed, As from the bed of Bacchus ; the flat-nos'd Of monkey shape, a Satyr from the woods ; And the broad-lipp'd, a Nymph for kisses formed.

But countless such conceits, and to narrate Idle ; yet grant the frame ador'd possess'd Of face divine, that all the power of love Plays o'er each limb symphonious, others still Exist of equal beauty ; still ourselves Once liv'd without her ; and full well we know She, too, each art essays the baser need. And so with scents bedaubs her that her maids Far fly oppress'd, and vent their smother'd laugh.

Then, too, the wretched lover oft abroad Bars she, who at her gate loud weeping stands. Kissing the walls that clasp her ; with perfumes Bathing the splendid portals, and around Scattering rich wreaths and odoriferous flowers. Yet when at length admitted, the flrst breath So deep offends him, he some motive seeks Instant to quit her ; his long-labour'd speech Of suffering drops, and owns himself a fool. That for one moment he could deem her crown'd With charms the race of mortals ne'er can boast. This know full well the Paphian nymphs, and, deep Behind the scenes of action, each defect Strive they to hide from him they fain would sway. But vain th' attempt ; for oft the mind will guess The latent blemish, and the laugh unfold. Whence those of soul ingenuous frankly own. Frequent, those faults which none can all escape.

Yet not for ever do the softer sex Feign joys they feel not, as with close embrace. Breast join'd to breast, their paramours they clasp, And print their humid kisses on their lips. Oft from their hearts engage they, urg'd amain By mutual hopes to run the race of love. Thus nature prompts ; by mutual hopes alone. By bliss assur'd, birds, beasts, and grazing herds. The task essay ; nor would the female else

B. IV. 1197-1230. LUCRETIUS. 1 89

E'er bear the burden of the vigorous male^ By mutual joys propell'd. Hast thou not seen, Hence tempted, how in mutual bonds they strive Worked oft to madness ? how the race canine Stain with their vagrant loves the public streets, Diversely dragging, and the chain obscene Tugging to loose, while yet each effort fails ? Toils they would ne'er essay if unassur'd Of mutual bliss, and cheated to the yoke. Whence o'er and o'er the bliss must mutual prove.

If when the male his genial energy Imparts, the female deep her breath retract Transported most, the race produc'd will, then. From female store prove female ; if revers'd. From store paternal, male. But when the form Blends both its parents' features, it ascends From equal powers of each ; the impulse warm Rousing alike, through each conflicting frame. The seeds of latent life in scale so nice That neither conquers, nor to conquest yields.

Oft view we, too, the living lines portray'd Of ancestors remote ; for various seeds, Commingled various, through the parent frame Lurk, which from race to race preserve entire The form, the features of the anterior stock. Diversely such the power creative blends ; Whence oft the voice revives, the hair, the hue. The full complexion of the race deceas'd ; For these as sure from seeds defin'd ascend As e'en the face, the body, or the limbs. Then, too, though male the fetus, female stores Aid the production ; while, if female form'd, The tide paternal mixes in the make ; For both must join, or nought can e'er ensue. But obvious this, that when the semblance more Inclines to either, the prevailing sex Chief lent the seeds of life, and rear'd complete The virgin embryo, or incipient man.

Nor ever interfere the gods above In scenes like these, the genial soil lock up, Or curse with barren love the man unbles^

190 LUCRETIUS. B. IV. 1231—1264.

No lovely race who boasts to hail him sire, — As deem the many, who, in sadness drown'd, Oft offer victims, and, with fragrant gums. Kindle the blazing altar, wearying heav'n Vainly, to fill the void reluctant womb. For blank sterility from seeds ascends Too gross, or too attenuate ; if the last. Ne'er to the regions that generic spread Cleave they, rejected instant as propelVd. But if too gross the genial atoms, dull Move they, and spirifless, or never urg'd With force sufficient, or of power devoid The puny ducts to pierce, or, pierc'd, to blend Harmonious with the vital fluid found. For love harmonious, whence increase alone Can spring, oft differs largely ; easier far Some filling some, and others easier fill'd And gravid made by others ; whence, at times. Those, many a Hymen who have erst essay'd , Vainly, at length th* appropriate stores acquire. And feel the lovely load their wombs enrich. While he, perchance, whose prior banns forbade All the fond hope of offspring, happier now A mate has found of more concordant powers, And boasts a race to prop hi» crumbling age.

So much imports it that the seeds of life With seeds should mix symphonious, that the gross Condense the rare, the rare the gross dilute. And man with woman duly pair'd unite. Much, too, concerns it what the foods employed ; For some augment the genial stores, and some Dissolve their crasis, and all power destroy. Nor small the moment in what mode is dealt The bland delight. The sage who views minute Herds, and the savage tribes by nature led, Holds that the virtuous matron chief conceives, When, with subsiding chest, and loins erect, Her dulcet charms she offers, fittest then The luscious tide t' absorb ; for nought avail Exerted motions, the perpetual heave Of frame high-strain'd, and ever-labouring lungs.

B. IV. 1265—1283. LUCRETIUS. 191

These, rather, urg'd beneath thie tender fray, All fruit prohibit ; since the genial share Oft tarn they from the furrow as it holds Its course direct, and break th' impinging shock. And hence the wanton mistress acts like these Frequent indulges, to preclude increase. And more transport the lawless form she clasps : Arts the chaste matron never needs essay.

Nor from the darts of Venus, nor the smile Of gods above, is she of homelier make Frequent belov'd; the praise is all her own. By her own deeds, hj cleanliness most chaste, Ajid sweet consenting manners, the delight Lives she of him who blends his lot with hers.

Such virtues must prevail, and day o'er day Perfect their power ; for, though of gentlest kind. Yet urg'd perpetual, such the sternest heart Must gradual soften, and at length subdue. Hast thou not seen the fountain's falling drops Scoop in long time the most obdurate stone ?

BOOK V.

ABOUMENT.

Lucretius commenoes with the praise of Epicunis, and shows that he de- serves to be called a deity more than any other hene£Eictor of mankind, ver. .1 — 55. He then states the subject of the present book, ver. 56 — 91, and proceeds to show that the world is not eternal, ver. 92 — 110, and that the heavenly bodies are not, as the Stoics thought, portions of the divine nature, nor, as the vulgar suppose, the abode of the gods, ver. Ill — 156. That the world was not made by the gods for 1he sake of man, or for their own pleasure, may be concluded from the evils existing in it, and from other arguments, ver. 156—235. As the four elements are changeable and perishable, we must consider that the world which they constitute is of a similar nature, ver. 236—324. That the world had a beginning, appears from the recent commencement of its history, and the present imperfection of many arts among its inhabitants, ver. 325—351; that it will have an end, all reasoning respecting it conspires to render probable, ver. 352 — 416. The formation of the different parts of the world accord- ing to the cosmogony of Epicurus, ver. 417 — 509. Causes of the motions of the heavens, and of the earth's remaining at rest, ver. 510 — 564. The magnitudes of the heavenly bodies, ver. 565 — 612. Their phsenomena,, and the causes of day and night, ver. 618—702. Of the phases of the moon, and the edipses of the moon and sun, ver. 703 — 777. The produc- tion of plants, animals, and man, ver. 778 — 884. Nature, in her early efforts at production, may have generated monsters, but not such as Chi- meras or Centaurs, ver. 835 — 922. The rudeness of the early life of man, the conmiencement of culture, and the invention of speech, ver. 923 — 1089. The discovery of fire, and its effects ; the progress of society and government, ver. 1090 — 1159. The rise of religion from ignorance of na- tural causes, ver. 1160—1239. The discovery of metals, and the origin and progress of the arts, both useful and elegant, ver. 1240 — 1456.

194 LUCRETIUS. b. v. 1—31.

Who is able, with mighty genius, to compose a strain worthy of the majesty of things, and of these discoveries of Epicurus? Or "who has such power over words, that he can compose eulogies proportionate to the merits of him, who has left to us such blessings obtained and acquired by his own intellect ? No one, as I think, formed of a mortal body, will ever be able. For if we ought to speak as the known dignity of the subjects which he. expounded requires, he was a god, a god, / 5ay, O illustrious Memmius, who first discovered that discipline of life * which is now called wisdom ; and who, by the science of philosophy/, placed humar^ existence, from amid so great waves of trouble, and so great darkness of the mind, in so tranquil a condition and so clear a light.

For compare with his investigations the ancient discoveries of others which are called divine ; as Ceres is said to have pointed out corn to mortals, and Bacchus the liquid of wine produced from the grape; though life, nevertheless, might have continued without these gifts, as it is reported that some nations even now live without them; but men could not have lived well and AoppeYy without a pure and undisturbed breast. For which reason he, from whom the sweet consolations of existence, now spread abroad through mighty nations, calm the minds of men, seems to us the more justly to be accounted a god.

But if you shall imagine that the deeds of Hercules excel his, you will be carried far away from sound reasoning. For what harm would those vast jaws of the Nemaean lion, and the bristly Arcadian boar, do to us at present ? Or what injury could the bull of Crete, and the Hydra, the pest of Lerna, de- fended with poisoned snakes, inflict on us at this time? Or how could the triple-breasted strength of the three-fold Geryon hurt us ? And how could the horsed of Diomede, breathing fire from their nostrils, dwelling near Thrace, and the Bisto- nian regions, and Ismarus ; or how could the Arcadian birds,

* Discovered that discipline of life, S^c.'] Ver. 9. Vitce ratixmem in- venit earn qtice nunc appellatur sapientia, Wakefield adduces, on this passage, Cic. de Fin. i. 5, where the philosophy of Epicurus is first called Epicuri ratio ^ and afterwards disciplina. Sapientia is equiva- lent to true philosophy, Horace (Od. i. 34> 2) alludes to the doc- trines of Epicurus as insaniem sapientia, "an erring or insane philo- sophy."

B. V. 32—60. LUCRETIUS. 195

formidable with their hooked talons, inhabiting the lake Stym- phalus, have so much annoyed us that we shotdd think much of their destruction'^ Or how, I pray, would the fierce ser- pent, with his stern looks and huge body, that watched, as he encircled the stem of a tree, the shining golden apples of the Hesperides, have interfered with our comfort, when he lived- near the shore of the ocean, and the rough waters of the sea, whither neither any countryman of ours goes^ nor any barba- rian dares to approaxihf

How, I ask, would other monsters of this kind, which have been killed, hurt us, if they had not been conquered, and were now alive ? Not at all, as I am of opinion ; for thus, even now, the earth is abundantly overrun * with wild beasts, and filled with alarming terror throughout the groves, and vast mountains, and deep woods ; but these are places which we for the most part have power to avoid.

But unless the mind is purified, what contests and dangers must we incur in spite of our utmost efforts ! How many 'vbitter cares, arising from lust, tear the man distracted by them^ and how many consequent terrors ! Or what iUs do pride, uncleanness, wantonness, produce! How great calamities do they cause ! And what evils do luxury and sloth generate!

Will it not be fit, then, that we should deem this man, who subdued all these evih^ and expelled them from the mind, not with arms, but with words, worthy to be ranked in the num- ber of the gods ? Especially when he was accustomed to give precepts, both numerous and divinely expressed^ concerning the immortal gods themselves, and to set forth in his instruc- tions the whole nature of things.

This is he on whose track I have entered, whilst I pursue his system of philosophy, and show, in these expositions, how necessarily all things individually continue-their-existence ac- cording to that law by which they were produced, and how impotent they are to break the strong conditions of time and destiny? In which class of things produced and limited in ex-

* Is abundantly overrun.] Ver. 40. Ad aatietatem — scatit, ** Ad satietatenif i. e. rrpbc KSpov^ valde^ very much or abundantly." Latn- binus.

' To break the strong conditions of time and deatinyj] Ver. 59, Validas <Bvi rescindere leges, "To ensure beyond the bounds fixed and appointed by nature." Creech,

o 2

196 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 61—82.

istence, the substance of the mind, above all, has been found to be; and hcis been demonstrated to be formed of a generated consistence at first, and to be unable' to endure umnJureiS^ through vast eternity. But / ^have also made it plain, that when we seem to behold him, in our sleep, whom life has left, mere images are accustomed to deceive the mind.

For what remains, the course of my subject has now brought me to 1;he point at which I have to demonstrate that the world ^ consists of dissoluble matter, and that it had also a beginning ; and to show by what means the combination of matter established the earth, the heaven, the sea, the stars, the sun, and the globe of the moon ; and what living creatures sprung from the earth, and what, though believed to have ex- isted, have at no period been produc^^ / have also to tell how the human race, with various speech, began to hold in- tercommunication^ by means of names of things ; and by what process that oppressive fear of the gods entered the breasts of men ; a fear which maintains throughout the world sacred temples, lakes, groves, altars, and images of the divinities.

I shall besides explain by what force ruling nature guides the courses of the sun and the paths of the moon, lest, perchance, we should think that these bodies pursue eternal revolutions unrestrained and of themselves, in order to promote the growth of fruits and living creatures ; and lest we should sup-

' The course of my subject has now brought me to the point at which I have to demonstrate that the world, S^c.'] Ver. 65,

Nunc hue rationis detulit ordo Ut mihi, mortal! consistere corpore mundum, Nativumque simul, ratio reddtmda sit, esse.

" He now proceeds to show that the world was produced, and will perish. * * * Plato supposed that the world had a beginning, but that it will not have an end ; not because it is eternal by its own nature, or because he denies that every thing which is bom decays ; but on account of the goodness of the deity who made it, and who will not suffer a work so excellent and perfect to fall to pieces. Aristotle thought that it had no beginning and will have no end. Epicurus believed both that it had a' beginning and will have an end." Lambinus. " To the point at which " answers to htic — tU,

' What — have at no period been produced.l Ver. 71. Qua mdlo sint tempore nata, " Understand Chimaeras, Centaurs, Scyllae, Her- maphrodites, S^c." Faber,

^ To hold intercommunication.] Ver. 73. Inter se yesci. " Vesci, i. e. to live, or enjoy life, by the formation of society ; in a secondary sense of tne word." WaJceJield.

D, V. 83—105. LUCRETIUS. 197

pose that they are guided by uny plan of the gods. For if iAose who have fairly uoderstood that the goda pass a life free from care, neverthdess wonder, meanwhile, how things can severally be carried on, eapecially in those matters which are seen in the ethereal regions over our heads, they are carried back again to their old notions of religion, and set over them- selves cruel tyrants, whom they unhappily believe able to do all things ; being themselves ignorant what can, and what can- not, be done, and by wliat means limited power, and a deeply fixed boundary, are assigned to every thing.

To proceed, then, and to delay you no longer with pro- mises, contemplate, in the first place, the sea, and the earth, and the heaven ; the triple nature of wliich, dear Memmius, (three bodies, three forms so dissimilar, tlircc substances q/* such a different ctmsistence,) one day will consign to destmc- tion ; and the mass and fabric of the world, sustained through so many years, shall sink itilo total dissolution.^

Nor does it escape my consideration, how new and wonder- ful a subject it is for your reflection, that there will be an end to the heaven and the earth ; and how diflicult it is for me to convince j^mt of this with arguments ; as it generally happens, indeed, when you offer to the ear a subject hitherto strange to it, and yet cannot submit it to the sight of the eye, or put it into the hand ; the avenues through which the nearest main road* of belief leads into the human breast and the regions of the mind. But yet I will express my thoughts; fact itself, perhaps, will bring credit to my words, and you will see, per-

al da>obltiOB.'\

Plovers of the iky ! ^e, too, to age muit yield. Frail as your silken aisterB of the field! Star after star from heaven's high arch shall ruth, Suns sink on suns, and syitams syttenu crush ; Headlong, extinct, to one dark centre fall, And Death, and Night, and Chaoa, miuf^le all !

Darwin'i Botaiuc GanUn, iv. 371.

' The oBCTiBM through which the nearest main road, ^c,'] Vex. 103. Via qu& mitnittt jMri Proximo feri humamon in pectui ten^lague

Via praxima is the nearest or shortest way ; f 'hat we discover by sinht and touch." iple, in many parts of England, have a saying, that

readily believe what we discover by sinht and touch." LanMmu. The common people, in many parts of En ' ' ' - .i .

" Seeing is believmg, and feeling ii truth.

198 LUCRETIUS. B. T. 106—141.

•

chance, all things violently shaken, in a brief space of time, with rising convulsions of the earth ; which time may Fortune, with commanding power, avert far from us ; and may reason, rather than reality, convince us that all things, overcome bi/ the infltience of time, may sink with a direfully-sounding crash into destruction.

On this subject, before I begin to utter oracles, (expressed with more sincerity, and with much more true reason, than those of the Pythian priestess, who speaks from the tripod aiid laurel of Apollo,) I will set forth to you many consolations in lieamed and philosophic arguments, lest, perchance, being re- strained by religion, you should suppose that the earth, the sun, the heaven, the stars, and the moon, beiTig endowed with a divine nature, must pursue their courses eternally ; and lest you should conceive, in consequence, that it is just for all those, (after the manner of the giants,) to suffer punishment for their monstrous wickedness, who, by their reasoning, would shake the walls of the world, and seek to quench the radiant sun in the heavens ; animadverting, in mortal speech, on bodies which are called immortal, but which, in reality, are so far distant from divine power, and are so unworthy to appear in the number of gods, that they may rather be thought adapted to give iis a notion of that which is altogether re- moved from vital motion and sense.

For it is not possible that the nature and rationality of in- tellect should be thought capable of existing in all kinds of bodies whatsoever. As a tree cannot exist in the sky,* nor clouds in the salt sea ; nor can fish live in the fields, nor blood be in wood, nor liquid in stones ; so it is fixed and appointed where every thing may grow and subsist. Thus the nature of the mind cannot spring up alone without the body, or exist apart from the nerves and the blood. Whereas if this could happen, the faculty of the human soul might rather arise in the head, or shoulders, or in the bottom of the heels, and might rather indeed be accustomed to grow in any place, than to remain in the same man and the same receptacle of the man. But since it seems certain and fixed even in our own body, in what part the soul and the mind may subsist and grow up by themselves, it is so much the rather to be denied that they can

* As a tree cannot exist in the sky, ^c.J Ver. 129. Sicut in (ethere noti arbor, &c. See this passage in book iii. 785, seg.

B.v. 142-171. * LUCRETIUS. 199

exist out of the entire body, and without an animal form, whether in the soft clods of earth, or in the fire of the sun, or in the water, or in the lofty regions of the air. The heaven' ly bodies, therefore, since they cannot be animated with life, are not endowed with a divine sense.

It is not possible, moreqver, that you should believe there ^re sacred seats of the gods in any quarters of our world. For the nature and substance of the gods, being subtle and fair removeld from our senses, is scarcely apprehended by the power of our mind. And since it has hitherto escaped the touch and impact of our hands, it can a^ssuredly touch nothing that id tangible by us ; for nothing can touch another body, if it is not possible for itself to be touched. For which reason the abodes of the gods, also, must be dissimilar to our abodes, as being subtle, and correspondent to their own nature.^ These points I shall hereafter prove to you with abundance of argument. .

To say, moreover, that the gods designed to arrange all this noble fabric of the world for the sake of men, and therefore that we ought to extol it as an honourable achievement of the deities, and to believe that it will certainly be eternal and imperishable ; and to affirm that it is unlawful ever to disturb from its seat, by any force of argument, that which was established for the human race by ancient contrivance and for perpetual duration, or to shake and displace, though only in words, the sum of things from their ba3is ;^ and to feign and add other conceits of this sort, dear Memmius, is to be guilty of the utmost folly ; for what profit can our gratitude afibrd to those who are immortal and blessed in themselves, that they should labour to effect any thing for our sake ? Or what new incitement could induce those, who were before tranquil, to desire, so long afterwards, to change their former mode qf\i£e?^ For it would seem that he only, whom old

' Subtle, and correspondent to their own nature.] Ver. 155. Tenties, de corpore eontm, ** Tne abodes of the ^ods must be subtle, as con- sisting of the same sort of atoms of which the gods themselves con- sist." Faber,

* Displace the sum of things from their basis.] Ver. l64u Ab

into evortere summa. Lambinus has summam. If we read summa, in the ace. pi. with Forbiger, it must be considered as equivalent to oni' nia^ cuncta. Lucretius elsewhere uses summua for totua, as in i. 49, de 8ummd coeli ratione,

^ To change their former mode of life,] Ver. 170. Vitam mutare pri- orem. If the life of the gods was happy from the first, why did Aiey

200 LUCRETIUS. • B. V. 172—199.

things offend, ought to delight in things that are new ; but in him to whom no trouble has happened in past time, when he spent life happily, what could excite the deare of novelty ? * Or, forsooth, the life o/* the gods w&s oppressed with gloom and sorrow, until the genial birth of terrestricA things shone forth ? Or, again, what evil would it have been to us never to have been bom ? F<wr whoever is born must certainly wish to re-* main in life, as long as any alluring pleasure shall engage him ; but to him who never tasted tiLe love of life, nor was ever in the number <^ living beings,^ what affliction is it not to have been bom ?

Moreover, whence was a model or idea for making things, and whence was the notion of men themselveSy implanted in the gods at first, that they should know, and conceive in their mind, what they should seek to do ? Or by what means was the power of primary-particles known, and what they could effect by their change of order and place^ if Nature herself did not give the^r^^ specimens of production ?

For the primordial atoms of things were driven in so many ways by so many impulses, through an infinite duration of time, and were accustomed so to be borne and carried forward by their own weight, and to meet in all modes, and to try all endeavours, as if to ascertain what their combinations might generate, that it is not surprising if they fell at last into such positions, and acquired such motions, as those by which this universe of things, ^through perpehuU^ renoY^iJdon^ is now car- ried on.

But if I were even ignorant^ what the primary-elements of things are, yet this I could venture to assert, from the scheme of the heaven itself, and to support it from many other rea- sons, that the system of things was by no means prepared for

produce a world, or worlds, for the sake of making a change in it? Was it merely that they might have a new subject on which to bestow their attention? But what motive, asks Lucretius, could they have for taking such trouble, when they had previously all that they wanted for enjoyment ?

^ But in him what could excite the desire of novelty?]

Ver. 174. Quid potuit novitatis amorem accendere talif '* Tali ovrtt in such a being, whether god or man." Faber*

* Nor was ever in the number of living beings.] Ver. 181. Necfuit in numero. "Rerum creatanun." Faber.

' But if I were even ignorant, S^.] Ver. 196. Quod si jam rerum ignorem, &c. This sentiment he had already advanced^ ii. 177, seq.

B. V. 200-229. LUCRETIUS. 201

US by divine power ; so grea,t is the faultlness tvith which it stands affected.

In the first place, of all that space which the rapid circum- volution of the heaven covers, mountains and woods, the. abodes of wild beasts, have occupied a vast portion ; ^ roo1$;8, and great marshes, and the sea, which widely separates the coasts of countries, cover another vast portion. Moreover, burning heat, and the constant descent ot frost, deprive mor- tals of almost two-thirds rf what is ItfL And as to the land which yet remains, nature would stilly bj her own operation, cover it with thorns, if human strength did not prevent; which, for the sake of a living, is accustomed to groan under the stout mattock, and to cut the earth with ploughs urged through it% For unless we, turning up the fertile clods with the plough- share, and forcing the soil, excite it to send forth its pro- ductions, they would be unable of themselves to rise into the liquid air. And yet at times, when all things, procured with so great labour, are green and flourish over the earth, either the sun in the heavens burns them up with violent hea^ or sudden showers and cold frosts destroy them, or bla3ts of winds, with violent hurricanes, tear them to pieces.

Besides, why does nature cherish and increase, by land and by sea, a terrible brood of wild beasts and monsters^ hostile to the human race ? Why do the seasons of the year bring dis- eases ? Why does untimely death wander abroad ?

Moreover, an infant, as soon as nature, with great efforts, has sent it forth from the womb of its mother into the regions of light, lies, like a sailor cast out from the waves, in want of every kind of vital support ; and fills the parts arouud with mournful wailings, as is natural for one by whom so mu(:h evil in life remains to be undergone. But the various sorts of cattle, herds, and wild beasts, grow up with ease; they have

* Vast portion.] Ver. 202. Avidam partem, '' Avidus for V€ut; since what is greedy requires what is vast/' Gifanitu, The reader may take this for an explanation if he pleases. The soundness of the reading is doubtful. Lachmann gives, from conjecture, cUiquam partem.

** A part how small of the terraqueous globe Is tenanted by man I The rest a waste, Rocks, deserts, frozen seas, and burning sands, Wild haunts of monsters, poisons, stings, and death ! Such is earth's melancholy map !"

Youns^e Night Thmght^, i.

502 LtJCRETIUS. B. V. 230-258.

no Heed of rattles or other to/^s; nor is the fond and broken voice of the nurse * necessary to be used to one of them. Nor do they require different dresses according to the season of the year ; nor, besides, have they any need of arms, or high walls, with which they may defend their property, since the earth herself, and Nature, the artificer of things, produce all supplies for all in abundance.

Above all, since the body of the earth, and the water, and the light breezes of the winds, and the warm heat, of which this Sum of Things seems to be constituted, consist wholly of generated and dissoluble substance, the whole frame of the world must be considered to be of a similar nature.^ For of whatever creatures, in mortal shapes, we see the parts and members to be of a generated consistence, we observe, in general, these same creatures to be themselves both generated and mortal. P^or which reason, when I see ihefour elements^ the vast members and divisions of the world, wasted and re- produced, i may conclude that there was also a time when the heaven and earth had a beginning, and that there will be a time for their destruction.

On these points, do not imagine, my Memmius, that I have assumed any thing too hastily, in supposing earth and fire to be perishable; in not doubting that water and air waste away ; and in saying that the same elements are again pro- duced and augmented. In the first place, some part of the earth, parched with the constant heat of the sun, and tram- pled with the perpetual action of feet, exhales mists and fly- ing clouds of dust, which strong winds disperse through the whole air ; part also of the clods is washed off by showers,^ while rivers, as they strike against their banks, wear them away. Besides, whatever body increases another, is, on its

* Fond and broken voice of the nurse.] Ver. 231- Blanda atgtie infracta loquela, " Broken^ because parents and nurses are accus- tomed to use half words, not whole ones, to children." Lambinns.

' The whole frame of the world must he considered to be of a similar nature.] Ver. 240. Debet eddem ofnnis mundi natura putari. " E^dem m&" says^ Wakefield, that is, in the same way, or hy the same rule. Lambinus reads D^et tota eadem mundi natura putari^ which is easier to be understood. A little below, in "both gener- ated and mortal," (morttzlia et nativa aimul,) I have transposed the epithets.

• Is washed off by showers.] Ver. 256. Ad diluviem revocatur Im- bribus. " Is turned into Iwater.'* Creech.

B. V. 259—280. LUCKETIUS. 203

own part, diminished ; and since the earth, which is the parent of all things, seems, without doubt, to be the common sepulchre of all things ; the earth, therefore, you may be as- sured, is wasted, and is recruited and grows again.

Further, there is no need of words to show that the sea, rivers, and fountains abound with new liquid, and that waters flow incessantly into the ocean; for the vast deflux of streams from all sides declares it; but we must observe, above all things, that a certain portion of the water is carried off, and that it happens at last that there is no superabundance ^ of water ; for first that part w removed which the strong winds, sweeping the ocean, and the ethereal sun, dispelling it with his rays, subtract yrow its surface; and next that part which is distributed through all the earth underneath. For the salt is strained off vn its passage through the ground, and the dub- stance of the water flows back, and all meets, her^ and there, at the sources of rivers ; whence it flows, in a fresh stream, over the earth, wherever a passage, once cut, has borne along the waters in their liquid course.^

I shall now, therefore, observe concerning the air, that it is changed,' every hour, in innumerable ways. For whatever is perpetually passing off from bodies, is all carried into the vast ocean of air ; and unless it were to restore particles back to those bodies, and to recruit them as their substance passes away, all things would by this time have been dissolved and converted into air. It accordingly does not cease to be per-

* That a certain portion of the water is carried off, and that it happens, at last, that there is no superabundance, Sjc,] Ver. 265.

Quicquid aquai' Tollitur, in summ&que fit ut nihil humor abundet.

Quicquid is for quidque^ as Lambinus and Creech expound it. In 8ummd^ says Wakefield, is ** tandem, denique, post eventus omnes.'*

* Wherever a passage, once cut, lias borne along the waters in their liquid course.] Ver. 273.

Qua via secta semel liquido pede dettdit undaa,

Lambinus notices the easy flow of this verse, and observes how well it is adapted to the subject. Lucretius repeats it, vi. 639. We may compare with it a line of Cowley, called by Johnson an " example of representative versification wnich perhaps no other English line can equal."

Which runSf and as it runs, for ever sJidU run on. » That it is changed.] Ver. 274. Quid—mutatur^^'' QuaUter, how.'* Wakejield,

204 LUCEETIUS. 11. V. 281—311.

petuaHy generated from bodies, and perpetually to return back to bodies ; since it is agreed that all things are in con- stant flux.

The ethereal sun, too, the great fountain of liquid light, floods the heaven perpetually with new brightness, and in- stantly supplies with a new ray the place of the ray that has passed off. For wha.tever brightness it first setids forthy is, wherever it falls, lost to it. This you may collect from hence, that as soon as clouds have begun to come over the sun, and, «s it were, to break through the rays of light, all the lower part of these rays is immediately lost, 2^nd the earth, wherever the clouds pass, is overshadowed ; so that you may understand that things constantly require a fresh supply of light, and that every first emission of radiance is dispersed ; nor could objects otherwise be seen in the sunshine, unless the fountain of Ught itself furnished a perpetual supply.

Even your nocturnal torches, which are things of earth, your hanging lamps, and tapers, brilHant with waving flames, and showing themselves fat with abundance of smoke, are im- pelled,^ in a similar manner, by the agency of heat, to emit new radiance; they incessantly discharge their tremulous rays ;^ they never cease ; nor does the light, as if broken off, leave the place dark. So swiftly is the destruction of that flame hastened from all its rays, through the rapid origination and emission of new particles. Thus, too, we must suppose that the sun, and moon, and stars throw off their light through successive generations of beams,^ and perpetually lose what- ever rays are first to pass from them; so that you must not by any means suppose that these bodies maintain imperishable vigour.

Do you not see, moreover, that even stones are overcome by time ? I>o you not observe that lofty towers fall, and that rocks decay ? Do you not notice that the temples and images of the gods, overcome with age^ open in fissures ; and that the sacred deities themselves cannot extend the limits of fate, or struggle against the laws of nature ?

* Are impelled.] Ver. 298. Properant,

* They incessantly discharge their tremulous rays.] Ver. 299. Tremere ignibus instant. "Tremulos radios spargunt." Creech.

* Through successive generations of besuna.'] Ver. 804. Ex alio atque alio mbortu. The sense is evident.

B. V. 312—331. LUCRETIUS. 205

Besides, do we not see that the monuments of heroes fall ? You might even believe that they desire for themselves a time to grotv- old.^ Do we not observe that flints crumble from the lofty mountains, and cannot endure and withstand the powerful force of even a finite age ? For if they were bodies which, through infinite ages, had sustained all the assaults of time, and contintied exempt from dissolution, they would not now sud- denly be broken away and fall to pieces.

Further, contemplate this heaven around and above us, which contains all the earth in its embrace ; it produces, aJs some say, all things from itself, and receives all things, when dissolved, into itself. But it was a generated body, and con- sists wholly of perishable substance. For whatever increases and nourishes other things from itself, must by that means be . diminished, and must be recruited by receiving^ into itself fresh substances.

In addition, if there was no origin of the heavens and earth from generation, and if they existed from all eternity, how is it that other poets, before the time of the Theban war, and the destruction of Troy, have not also sung of other exploits of the inhabitants of earth f How have the actions of so many men thus from time to time fallen into oblivion f How is it that they no where survive in remembrance, and are no where stamped on everlasting monuments of fame ?

But, as I am of opinion, the whole of the world is of com- paratively modern date, and recent in its Origin ; and had its

* You might even believe that they desire for themselves a time to grow old.] Ver. 314. QueBrere proporro nbi gttomque senescere credos, Senescere, " to grow old," guomque, " at some time or other." Cttnque, as in Horace, (Od. i. 32, 15,) Mihi cunque salve Ritl precantt, Wakefield interprets it gtiocunque modo : " Credas — dato quasi studio ad senectutem properanter contendere, quocunque tandem modo." But it seems better to understand it of time than of manner ; for the mode in which buildings decay has been expressed four lines above. Proporro I join with credas^ m the sense of' porroy pratereat etiam. Lambinus read, from conjecture^ Cedere proporrot suhitoque senescere easu. Lachmann, also from conjecture, gives Quae fore proporro veti- tumque senescere credas, and alters the passage in Horace to medicum- que salve Rite vocanii. The verse of Horace is probably faulty, (for, as Bentley observes, there is no example to support it,) but whether Lachmann has found the right metnod of amending it, may be doubted.

^ By receiving, ^c] Ver. 324. Quum recipit res. Creech inter- prets "cum ist€ts res dissolutas recipit."

5

206 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 332—357.

beginning but a short time ago. From which cause, also, some arts are but now being refined, and are even at present on the increase ; many improvements are in this age added to ships ; musicians have but recently produced melodious sounds. This nature and system of the world, too, of which iHerite, has been but lately discovered ; and I myself, among the first discover- efSy have been found the first /we^* that could express it in the language of my country.

But if, perchance, you suppose that all these arts^ formerly existed the same as at present, but that generations of men have perished by burning fire, or that cities have fallen by some great catastrophe of the world, or that violent rivers, through continual rains, have inundated the earth, and overwhelmed ' cities, you must so much the more, being convinced bi/ these facts,^ admit that there will probably be also a destruction of the earth and the heaven. For, since things were afiected and shaken by so great disorders, and so great dangers, if a more serious cause had then pressed upon them, they might univers- ally have suffered destruction and mighty ruin. Nor do we, who now live, appear to be mortal one like another, by any other inference than that we sicken with diseases similarly* to those whom nature has removed from life.

Further, whatsoever bodies remain eternal,^ must either, as being of a solid consistence, repel assaults, and suffer nothing to penetrate them that can disunite their compact parts within ; (sttch as are the primary-particles of matter, the na- ture of which we have already shown ;) or they must be able

^ Among the first discoverers, have been found the first poet, &:c.'\ Ver. 337- Primus cum primis ipse repertus, Wakefield gives this comment : " His primis renim repertoribus ego quoque sum reper- tor annumerandus." With primus I understand poeta.

* All these arts,] Ver. 339. I have adopted arts from Creech.

* So much the more, being convinced by these facts^ ^c."] Ver. 344. Tanto quique magis victus fateare necesse est, Quigue is Wakefield's read- ing, and stands, he says, " according to the practice of good writers," for quisquis or quicunque. As it could only be rendered in English by whoever you are^ or some such awkward phrase, I have left it out. Other editions, except Lachmann, have quippe.

* Sicken with diseases similarly, ilsc.~\ Ver. 350. Morbis ag^'escimus idem Atque olli^ 8^^., \, e. toe the same sicketi with diseases, <S,r. Lanibinus reads morbis — tsdem,

* Further, whatsoever bodies remain eternal, S^c.~\ Ver. 352. Twenty-three verses are here repeated from iii. 807, seq.

B.y. 358— 384, LUCRETIUS, 207

to endure throughout all time, because they are exempt from assaults, or unsusceptible of them; (as is a vacuum, which re- mains intangible, and suffers nothing from impact ;) or thet/ must be indestructible for this reason, that there is no suffici- ency of space round about, into which substances may, as it were, separate and be dissolved (as the entire universe is eternal, incismuch as there is neither any space without it, into which its parts may disperse ; nor are there any bodies which may fall upon it, and break it to pieces by violent con- cussion). But, as I have demonstrated, neither is the nature of this world of a solid consistence, since in all compound bodies vacuity is mixed; nor is it like vacuity itself; nor, again, are bodies wanting, which, rising fortuitously from the infinite of space, may overthrow the sum of things with a violent tempest, or bring upon it some other kind, whatever it may be, of disaster and danger ; nor, moreover, is vastness and profundity of space wanting, into which the walls of the world may be scattered, or, assaulted by some other kind of force, may be dissolved. The gate of death, therefore, is not closed to the heaven, or to the sun, or to the earth, or to the deep waters of the sea, but stands open, and looks back for them, with a mighty and huge abyss.

For which reason, smce these existing things are dissoluble, you must necessarily allow that they are generated of indisso- luble elements; for bodies which are of mortal consistence, could not have been able, from all eternity, to contemn till jiow the strong assaults of infinite time.

Furthermore, since the great divisions of the world ^ are per- petually contending, and are stirred up in implacable warfare • against each other, do you not see that some end to their long contest may be assigned ? And this end may take place, either when the sun, and heat in general, having drunk up all

* Th£ great divisions of the world.] Ver. 381. Maxima mundi membra. Fire and water. " Many philosophers imagine that the elements themselves may be in time exhausted ; that the sun, by shining long, will effuse all its light; and that by the continual waste of aqueous particles, the whole earth will at last become a sandy desert. I would not advise my readers to disturb themselves by contriving how they shall live witnout light and water. For the days of universal thirst and perpetual darkness are at a great dis- tance. ^ The ocean and the sun will last our time, and we may leave posterity to shift for themselves." Johnson, Idler, No. 3.

208 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 385-419.

the moisture, shall have become supreme ; a consummation^ in- deed^ which they endeavour to effect, but cannot yet accom- plish their designs ; so much do rivers supply, and so con- Mantly do the waters threaten, even of their own power, to deluge all things from the deep gulf of the ocean ; {but their threats are vain ; for winds, sweeping the floods, and the ethe- real sun, dispelling them with his rays, diminish their hulk, and seem to trust that they can dry up all things before the waters can attain the conjpletion of their design ;) maintain- ing so great a "^ar, they p^:^ist to strive with one another for their great objects, and to contend^ as it seems, with equal efforts ; though, as is reported, fire was once superior on the earth, and water once reigned triumphant over the plains.

For fire prevailed, and burnt and consumed many parts, when the erring and impetuous fury of the sun's horses hur- ried Phaethon through the whole heaven and over the entire earth. But the omnipotent Father, incensed with fierce rage, hurled Phaethon from his chariot to the earth by the sudden stroke of a thunderbolt ; and the Sun, meeting him as he fell, caught up the eternal lamp of the world, brought back his scattered horses, and yoked them trembling to the car; and, guiding them in their own path, restored and re-organ- ized all things. This, you must be aware, is the story which the poets of the Greeks sung, but which is too far removed from truth and reason. For fire may have the superiority, when more atoms than usual of igneous matter have collected from the infinite ofspa^e; but afterwards its strength, being by )3ome means repressed, necessarily subsides ; else all things, burned up by a scorching atmosphere, would utterly perish.

Once, too, as tradition tells, water having-risen-in-a-body,* began to have the mastery ; at which period it overwhelmed numbers of mankind with its waves ; but subsequently, when its strength, (which had risen from the infinite profound,) was in some way turned aside and repelled, the rains came to a stand, and the rivers diminished their violence.

But I shall now proceed to relate, in due course, how the combination of matter^ established the heaven and the earth, the depths of the sea, and the revolutions of the sun and moon.

* Once, too, — water having risen-in-a-body, tjsc.'] Ver. 412. Humor

item qnmidam ccepit snperare coorttu. Alluding to the Hood of Deucalion .

2 But how the combination of matter, 4r<^.] Ver. 417. Sed

t. ▼. 420—447. LUCRETIUS. 209

For assuredly neither the primary elements of things dis- posed themselves severally in their own order by wisdom or counsel arising from a sagacious understanding ; nor, certainly, did they agree among themselves what motions each should produce ; but because the primordial atoms of the world, being many, were agitated by concussions, in many ways, through an infinite space of time, and were accustomed to be carried forward by their own weights, and to combine in all modes, and to try all efforts, as if to ascertain whichsoever of them, meeting together, might give birth to some offspring, it from this cause happens that, being spread abroad during a vast period of duration, and attempting all kinds of combinations and movements, those at length came together, which, having suddenly coalesced, became at first, and become ncwy from time to time, the commencements of great productions,^ the origin of the earth, the sea, and the heaven, and of every kind of living creatures.

Here, at that time, could be seen neither the chariot of the sun, fiying on high with its abundant light, nor the stars of the great firmament, nor the sea, nor the heaven, nor the earth, nor the air ; nor could any thing be didoemed similar to our present objects, but only a certain crude agitation of matter, and a congeries swelling up together. Afterwards the parts began to separate ; and similar things d«^an to be united with similar, and to evolve the world, and display its parts, and arrange its different members, which were generated from all kinds of primordial atoms; whose intervals, courses, con- nexions, weights, impulses, combinations, and motions. Dis- cord, exciting war amongst ^lem, (from the disagreement of their forms and the variety of their shapes,) had disturbed ; on which account they could not remain all so united, or pro- duce sttch suitable motions among themselves, a* should lead to the objects which they were to effect; that is, to divide the

quibttt iUe modia conjectut materiait 8ic» *' He now proceeds to explain how the world was formed from atoms, which move without design, and without any certain law. This account of the formation of the world, and its various parts, corresponds almost exactly with that which is stated by Plutarch [respecting the doctrines of Epicunu] in his first book Js PlaoiH» Philoaophorum.** Lambinut,

* Become notOy from time to time, the commencements of ffreat productions.] Ver. 431. Magnartun rerumjiunt exordia saps, I nave rendered sape " from time to time." Faber read nempe,

V

210 LUCRETIUS. B.v. 448-478.

high heaven from the earth, and to cause that the sea and other water should spread abroad separately, and that the stars of heaven should shine by themselves pure and distinct.

For, in the first place, the several atoms of earth, because they were heavy, and involved one tvith another, met all to- gether in the middle, and took, as it were, the lowest place ;* which atomSf the more closely they cohered, tiie more effectu- ally they excluded yrom themselves those particles which were to form the sea, the stars, the sun and the moon, and the walls of this great world. For all these latter parts of nature con- sist of more smooth and round particles, and of atoms much more diminutive, than the earth ; and, accordingly, the fiery ether, bursting forth from the several parts, through the small pores of the earth, first raised itself on high, and, being light, carried with it much fire ; by a process similar to what we often witness, when, in the morning, the golden rays of the beaming sun first blush over the grass gemmed with dew, and when the slxignant lakes, and ever-flowing rivers, exhale a mist, and earth itself sometimes appears to smoke ; all which vapours, when they are united in the height above us, cover the heaven in an apparently condensed body. So, too, at that time, the light and expanded ether, diffused around in a • united mass, collected itself; and thus, being widely extended in every direction, enclosed all other things in its vast embrace.^

To \\n^ formation of the ether succeeded the rise of the sun and moon, and of those bodies whose orbs revolve in the air between both ; bodies which neither the earth nor the vast ether attracted to itself, because they were neither so heavy as to sink down to the earth, nor so light as to glide in the highest regions ; and yet they so exist between both, that they revolve as active bodies,^ and are a part of the entire world.

* Met all together in the middle, and took, as it were, the lowest place.] Ver. 452. Coibant In medio atque imas capiebant omnia sedes. " Met and sunk down in the middle, which is the lowest place." Lambinus. But how it happened that the atoms found a spot in which they might settle as a centre or lowest place, when he had previously asserted (i. 1070, seq.) that all bodies must alike be carried forwards through all parts of space, Lucretius does not explain. Ovid, in his account of the fonnation of the world, omits all allusion to a centre from which that formation commenced.

' Vast embrace.] Ver. 471. Avido complexu, Comp. ver. 202.

• Active bodies.] Ver. 477. Corpora viva. In giving this sense to viva, I follow Lambinus.

B. V. 479—609. LUCRETIUS. 211

As, in our own bodies, some members may remain at rest, whilst others are still in motion.

Tiiese substances, therefore, being withdrawn, the earth, where the vast blue region of the sea now spreads, suddenly sunk down, and hollowed out depths by means of the salt flood ; and in proportion as, day after day, the surrounding tide of air, and the warm rays of the sun, urged the earth (lying exposed even to its extreme bounds) with frequent im- pulses, so that, being thtts acted upon, it might collect in con-r densation towards its own centre, so much the more the salt fluid, pressed out from its body, increased with its flood the sea and the liquid plains ; and so much more the numerous particles of heat and air, escaping forth /rom other substances^ flew upwards^ and formed, afar from the earth, the lofty and shining temples of the sky. The plains sunk down, and the slopes of the high mountains increased ; for such inequality was inevitable ; as the rocks could neither subside, nor could all parts of the ground settle to the same level. Thus, then, the heavy-mass of the earth, with condensed bulk, stood firm ; and all the heavy grossness of the world, as it were, collected to the bottom, and sunk down like dregs into the deep.

Then the sea, the air, and the fiery ether itself, which were of liquid consistence, were all left pure ; and of these bodies some were lighter than others, and the ether, being of the greatest subtlety and levity, floats above the breezes of the air, nor allows its clear substance to mingle with the matters that disturb the aerial regions ; it leaves all these lotoer parts to be swept with violent whirlwinds ; it leaves them to be disturbed with tumultuous storms ; whilst itself, gliding with settled impulse, bears along its own fires. For that the ether may revolve thus steadily, and with uniform tenor, the flood in the Euxine shows, ^ which moves with a settled flux, pre- serving one unvaried direction in its course.

* The flood in the Euxine shows.] Ver. 508. Sigtnificat Ponto mare. Mare Ponto, for mare Ponti, says Wakefield: for in PontOj says Forbiger. " That the ether may glide perpetually onwards, he seeks to prove from the constant flow of the rontus Euxinus into the Thracian Bosphorus, the Propontis, and the Hellespont, with- out any reflux." Faber. Wakefield aptly cites Seneca, Nat. Qusest. iv. 2. " The Pontus flows rapidl}' and constantly into the sea below: not, like other seas, with tides^ alternating in opposite direction^, but with a current always nmning strongly in the same course."

p 2

212 LUCRETIUS. b. v. 510—533.

Let US now state what is the cause of the motion of the stars. In the first place, if the great orb of heaven whirls round, we must admit that air presses and urges the sky on either side, and confines it externally, and encloses it in each direction ; then that another body of air flows over our heads, and tends in the same directum in which the bright stars of the eternal world roll ; ^ and that there is still other air beneath ourfeety^ which carries along the heaven in the opposite direc- tion, as we see running streams turn wheels and buckets.

It is likewise possible that the whole heaven may remain stationary, though the bright constellations are nevertheless borne along ; whether because active tides of ether are con- fined within the shy, and, seeking an outlet, whirl themselves round, and roll with them the stars through the vast regions of heaven ; or whether air, flowing from some quarter with- out, wheels and impels the stars ; or whether they of them- selves can move forward, whither the sustenance of each attracts^ and invites them, while pursuing their course, and re- cruiting their igneous substances every where throughout the heavens. For which of these causes prevails in this world, it is diflicult to lay down as certain ; but I demonstrate only what is possible, and may be eflected, throughout the universe, in various worlds, formed in various ways,* and seek to assign several causes for the motions of the stars ; which causes may operate, in different parts, through the whole of things; but of which one must necessarily be this very cause, that produces motion in our stars ; though to decide which of them it is, is

'In which the bright stars of the eternal world roll.] Ver. 515. Quo volvunda mieant atemi tidera mtmdi. He uses the word eternal as a poet, not as a philosopher.

* Beneath our feet,'] Ver. 516. Subter. " Sub terrft, et sub pedibus nOstris." Lambinus, See below, ver. 636, seq.

' Whither the sustenance of each attracts^ ^c] Ver. 525. Quo cujusque cibus vocat cUque invitat, " Some other philosophers, besides Epicurus, thought that the sun, and the other celestial bodies, were fed by the vapours arising from the sea and the earth. See Cic. de Nat. Deor. lib. ii. Virg. ^n. i. 612, Polusdum aidera pasceV* Lam- binwy ad i. 232. "This was a notion, not only of Epicurus, but of the Stoics. See Plutarch de Placit. Pnilosoph. Ana you will find in- dications of this opinion even before the age of Zeno." Fdbery ibid.

* In various worlds, formed in various ways.] Ver. 529. In variis mundiSj varia rations creatis. That there are more worlds than ours, he shows to be probable, ii. 1052, teq.

B. V. 634—664. LUCRETIUS. 2 1 3

by no means the part of a man proceeding, like myself, cau- tumsly^ and step by step.

And that the earth may rest in the middle^ part of the world, it is necessary that its weight should gradually, as it werey become evanescent and imperceptible,^ and that it should have another substance beneath it, united with it from its earliest age, and closely connected with the aerial parts of the world, in which it was produced and continues to live. The earth is, therefore, no burden to the air, nor at aU depresses it ; just as his limbs are no burden to a man ; and^W^ as the head is no burden to the neck ; nor do we feel the whole weight of the body press upon the feet. But whatever weights fall upon us, and are laid upon us, externally, hurt or armoy us^ although they are often far less than those which are within t^; of so great importance it is to understand what one thing can effect by union with another. The earth, accordingly, was not brought into this world suddenly, as a foreign body^ and cast, from some other quarter, upon air that was strange to itj but was produced together with the rest of the world, and as a regular part of it, at its first origin ; just as our members are seen to he formed with us.

Besides, the earth, when shaken with violent thunder, imme- diately shakes all things which are above it with its motion ; an effect which it could by no means produce, unless it were combined with the aerial parts of the world, and with the

* And that the earth may rest in the middle, S^cJ] Ver. 636. Terraque ut in medid mundi regume quieseat, &c. ** It may reasonably be asked how the earth, when Lucretius so often speaks of its weight, can remain in the middle of the air ; and why it does not leave its position, and sink into the infinite void. To this the poet answers, that though the air alone surrounds the earth, yet that, as the earth and air are closely connected, and have been from their origin parts of the same whole, the earth is in consequence no burden to the air, but rests upon it as if all its gp*avity were laid aside. But the case would be otherwise if the earth had been brought into this world from another ; for then its weight would be felt by the air as that of a foreign body ; as we, in regard to our own bodies, feel even a small substance that lies upon them externally, though neither the head, nor the other members of the body, are a burden to one an- other; inasmuch as they are couReneous, and bound by a common law of connexion. Epicurus, in his Epistle to Herodotus, says, r^v yijv T(f 'Aept kiroxMSrai «c ovyyivri" Creech.

^ Become evanescent and imperceptible.] Ver. 636. Evaneacere — et decrescere.

214 LUCRETIUS. b. v. 555-582.

heaven ; for they cohere by common connexions one with the other, conjoined and coalescing in union, from the earliest period.

Do you not observe, also, how exquisitely subtle a sub- stance of the soul sustains the body, which is of great weight, simply because it is so closely united and combined with it ? What power, too, but that of the soul, which governs the limbs, can raise the body with a vigorous leap /row the ground?

Do you now understand how much force a subtle sub- stance may have, when it is united with a heavy body, as the air is joined with the earth, and the power of the soul with ourselves ?

Nor can the circumference of the sun be much greater, or its fire less,^ than it appears to our senses. For from what- ever distances fires can throw their rays, and cast a warm heat upon our bodies, the ejection of the heat from those dis- tances detracts nothing from the bulk of the igneous matter, and the fire is not at all more contracted to the view. Since, therefore, the heat of the sun, and its effused light, reach to our senses, and the parts about us shine with its rays, the form and outline of the sun must, on this account, appear as it really is, so that you can add nothing more to it, or make it less.

And the moon, whether, as she glides through the sky, she illu- minates its regions with a borrowed light, or whether she sends forth radiance from her own body ; whichsoever is the case, she is, as she pursues her course, of no larger a dimension ^ than she appears to our eyes as we observe her. For all objects which, being far remote from us, we view through a large body of air, look confused in their appearance, before their out- line seems at all diminished. For which reason the moon, since it presents a clear shape and defined outline, (as it does

* Nor can the circumference of the sun be much greater, or its fire less, B^cJ] Ver. 567. Nee nimio solU major rota^ nee minor ardor esse potest. All that is meant is, that the sun cannot be much greater or much less than it appears to us. *' An irrational and ab- surd opinion of Epicurus," says Lambinus.

* She is of no larger a dimension, 4rc.J Ver. 578. Nihilofertwr

majors figurA^ Qttdm fiostris oculis, qud cemimtts, esse videtur. The or- der and construction, says Wakefield, is this ; " Fertur figurii nihilo majore, qu^m ea figura, qu& earn cernimus jigura, videtur esse nos- tris oculis."

B.y. 583-611. LUCRETIUS. 215

whenever its outmost edges ^ are observed,) must hence appear to us in the sky just as large as it is.^

Further, whatsoever stars in the heavens you view from hence, can, assuredly, be (yrdy very little less, or onJy very little larger,^ than they appear ; since of whatsoever fires we see on the earth, even whilst the motion of their light is plain, and their glow is clearly perceived, the outline seems at times to vary in one way or other, contracting or expanding^ according as it is more or less distant.

It is not, moreover, a matter of wonder, how so small a body as the sun can emit so large a quantity of light, as to cover with its flood the seas, the whole earth, and the heavens, and to pervade all things with its quickening heat. Since it is possible that one fountain of the light of the whole world, opened from hence, may flow forth abundantly, and scatter its radiance abroad ; ^ because the atoms of heat, we may suppose^ so meet together here from all parts of the world, and their assemblage forms such a floQd, that aU this heat may flow from one source. For do you not observe, too, how small a spring of water sometimes irrigates the meadows far and wide, and flows exuberantly over the fields ?

It is also possible that heat may pervade the air with a strong glow from no v^ry great fire in the sun, if, perchance, the air be so tempered and disposed as to be excited to warmth, though afifected with but gentle fervour ; as we sometimes see fire, from one spark, spread in all directions among corn-fields and straw.

And, perhaps, the sun, shining on high with its rosy light, contains about it much heat in secret stores-of-fire, which, though It be distinguished by no brightness, yet, retaining a

* As it does whenever its outmost edges, 4fc.] Ver. 583. Ut est ori$ extremis quomque notata — i. e. whenever it is noted as to its outmost edges.

' Just as large as it is.] Ver. 584. Quantaqtie quanta est, hinc nobis videatur, in alto. There are various readings of this passage. The present, which is Eichstadt*s, cannot, though adoptea by Forbiger, and even Lachmann, be right ; for what is me use of the qtie t Lam- bin us reads, Quanta quoqtte Jubc fuvat^ tanta hinc videatur in alto, Fu- vat for sit or fuertt; which Preigerus approves.

* Only very little larger.] Ver. 59L ExiguA majores parte brevique,

* Scatter its radiance abroad.] Ver. 597. Erumpere lumen. ** Erum'^ pere," with an active signification.

216 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 612—638.

glow, increases the force of the rays to such a degree as we experience.

Nor does the law of the sun's motion appear plain and evi- dent, nor is it demonstrable how he passes from his sunmier regions to the wintry part of his course in Capricorn, and how, coming back from thence, he turns to the solstitial points ; nor do we understand how the moon seems to traverse that space in each month, in passing through which the sun occupies the period of a year ; a plain reason, I say, has not been assigned for these phsenomena.

For, in the first place, that appears possible which the ven- erable opinion of the philosopher Democritus asserts; that the nearer each of the heavenly bodies is to the earth, the less swiftly can they be carried round by the revolution of the heaven ; since the rapid and strong force of the upper sky decreases and loses its power beneath ; and that, accord- ingly, the sun, with the lower constellations following it,^ is gradually left behind, because it is much beneath the fiery signs ;^ also that the moon, from this same cause, falls back so much the more, for the more distant its course, being lower, is from the heaven, and approaches to the earth, the less can it exert its swiftness with the signs. Since the more gentle is the speed with which the moon, being lower than the sun, is borne along, the more easily all the signs arOund overtake it, and are carried past it. Hence it happens, that the moon seems to return more quickly to each sign, because the signs return towards it.

It is possible, also, that two currents of air, at a certain season, may blow in turns' from opposite quarters of the world ; of which currents one may be that which drives the sun

^ With the lower constellations following it.'] Ver. 626. Cum pos- terioribua signit. " Cum signis sequentibus." Creech.

* Fiery signs.] Ver. 627. Fervtda signa : which Creech interprets " summa signa.

— ^ whence the sun And solar satellites must more and more Be backwards left, deserted, since full deep Lie they beneath the blue ethereal fires. Good.

* Two currefits of air, — may blow in turns, ^c] Ver. 636. Aer Altemis certo fluere alter tempore poeeit. Aer alter for dtto or bint acres. ^' Duos aeres luns solique inservientes introducit." Creech, ad ver. 613.

B. V. 639-668. LUCBETIUS. 217

from the summer signs into the winter part of his course, and into freezing cold ; and the other may he ^Ao^ which sends him back from the freezing shades of cold into the warm regions and glowing constellations. And, in like manner, we may suppose that the moon, and the stars, which revolve for long years in vast orbits, may move by means of two currents of air in opposite directions. Do you not notice, also, that clouds, by means of opposite winds, go in different ways, the lower contrary to the upper ? And why, therefore, may not these heavenly bodies be borne through the vast circuits of the sky by currents opposed to each other ?

But the reason why night ^ covers the earth^ with its great darkness, is either hecattse the light grows weak when the sun^ afler his long course, has reached the extremity of the heaven, and has sent forth his fires languidly, as being exhausted with the journey,^ and wasted by passing through a lon^ tract of air ; or because the same force, which carried the solar orb above the earth, compels it to turn its course beneath the earth.

Matuta, also, the goddess of the morning, leads forth the rosy Aurora, and spreads abroad the light, at a certain hour, either because the same sun, which was under the earth, returning again, aspires to the heaven, proceeding to enlighten it with his rays; or because, at that particular time, bodies of fire congregate, and many atoms of heat are accustomed to meet in confiuence, which cause a new light of the sun to be per- petually produced. Thus it is said, that from the lofty hills of Ida ^ the rays of the sun, when his light rises in the east, are seen dispersed, and that they afterwards collect, as it were, into one body, and form a complete orb.

Nor ought it, in such phsenomena, to be a subject of won- der, that these atoms of fire can thus flow together, and re- new the splendour of the sun, at a certain time. For we observe many other things which take place at a certain time

' But the reason why night, §•<?.] Ver. 649. He now begins to ex- plain the causes of day and night. ' Exhausted with the journey.] Ver. 652. Coneutsoe itere, » Thus— from the lofty hills of Ida, 4rc.] Ver. 662. Quod genus IdaU fama est e montibus, S^c, This phsenomenon is mentioned by Diod. Sic. xvii. 7, and by Pomponius Mela, de Situ Orbis, v. 6. It was probably some atmosphenc illusion. Quod genus is for quemadmodwn, as in several other places.

218 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 669—702.

in all departments of nature; the groves flourish at a certain time, and at a certain time drop their verdure. At a certain time, also, age directs the teeth to be shed ; and causes the immature youth to bloom with soft down, and to let the flexible beard, too, descend from his cheeks. Lightnings, moreover, snow, rain, cloudy weather, and winds, take place at seasons of the year by no means uncertain. For since the first com- mencement of causes thus arose, and the affairs of the world thus proceeded, as at present, from their earliest origin, every event is a consequence in the unvarying course of things.

That the days also increase while the nights grow shorter, and that the days are diminished in length when the nights become augmented, may possibly happen, either because the same sun, revolving below and above the earth, divides the regions of the air vdth unequal curves, and distinguishes the orb of heaven into dissimilar parts, while, whatever it has taken from one part of it, it adds, as it revolves, just so much to the opposite part, until it has come to that sign in the heavens where the node of the year* makes the darkness of night equal to the light of day : (for the heaven has tioo sepa- rate points, at equal distances, where the courses of the north vrind and the south meet \^ owing to the position of the w^hole circle of the zodiac, in which the revolving sun consumes the pe- riod of the year, illumining the earth and the sky with oblique light, — as the system of those declares who have observed that whole region of the heaven which is distinguished by the array of the twelve signs :) or, because the air is denser in certain parts, the tremulous rays of light are therefore retarded, and cannot easily penetrate it and emerge to the dawn ; for which reason the nights in the winter delay long, until the bright herald of day ^ returns : or, again, because, at alternate seasons of the year, the atoms of flame, which cause the sun to rise* in

* Node of the year.] Ver. 687. Nodus anni. " He means the equinoxes." Faber.

* Where the courses — meet.] Ver. 688. Medio cursu flatus Aquilonis et Austri.

* Herald of day.] Ver. 699. Imigne diei, "The sun." Faher.

* Cause the sun to rise, §*c.] Ver. 702. Faciunt solem certd desur- gere parte. Or, as Lambinus and others have it, certd de surgere. I wonder that none of the critics have suspected Lucretius to have written fulgere rather than surgere.

B. V. 703— 727. LUCRETIUS. 219

a particular part of the heavens at a particular time, are ac- customed to congregate slower or faster.

As for the moon, she may shine because she is struck with the rays of the sun, and may turn towards us every day a larger portion of light in her aspect, as she recedes farther from the sun's orb, until, being opposite to him, she has shone forth with fullest splendour, and, rising on high in the east, has beheld his setting in the west; thence, also, retiring back- wards, she may, as it were, hide her light gradually, as she approaches from the opposite «ide, along the circle^f the zodiac, nearer to the sun's radiance ; as those philosophers suppose, who make the moon to be in shape like a ball, and to pursue her path of revolution beneath the sun ; [awdf hence it happens that they seepa to say what is true.]^

There is also a hypothesis by which the moon may revolve and present various phases of brightness, with her own light. For it is possible that there may be another body, which moves and advances^ together with her, and which in every way ob- structs and hinders her lights but nevertheless cannot be seen, as it passes along in total darkness.

And the moon may possibly revolve upon her axis, like a balP tinged with shining light only on one side, and may, by turning her orb, present to us her various phases. Thus, pro- gressively, she turns that part which is illuminated, so as to behold us with full aspect and open eye ;* then, by degrees, she turns away and removes from us the brilliant side of her orb ;* as, indeed, the Babylonish doctrine of the Cbaldseans taught, which, refuting the method of the Greek astrologers^

' And hence it happens that they seem to say what is true.] Ver. 713. ProtereaJU uti videantur dicere verum. This verse, which is regarded by Forbiger as suspicious, and enclosed in brackets, might very well be spared.

^ Another body, which moves and advances, is^J] Ver. 716. This, says Lambinus, was the opinion of Anaximander ; but Creech ob- serves that there is no proof of his having held such an opinion.

' And the moon may— revolve — ^like a ball.] Ver. 719. This was the doctrine of Berosus, as is observed by Vitruvius, ix. 4.

* So as to behold us with full aspect and open eye.] Ver. 728. Ad speciem — nobis oculosque patentee. This is translated according to Wakefield's interpretation, who says that previous commentators had thought that the face and eyes cf the spectator were meant.

* Of her orb.] Ver. 725. Olomeraminie atque pilai. As both words have the same meaning, I have thought it sufficient to translate one.

220 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 728—753.

labours to support tliis hypothesis in opposition to it; just as if that, for which each contends, might not be tnce, or as if there were any reason why you should choose to embrace one opinion less than the other.

Further, when you see so many things produced in a cer- tain order, it is difficult to demonstrate by reason, and to evince by argument, why a new moon may not be generated every day, with a certain succession of phases and figures, and each moon^ as it diumally arises, diurnally decay, and another be reproduced in its place and station.

For the Spring and Venus begin their course, and the wing- ed zephyr, the harbinger of spring, walks before, near whose footsteps maternal Flora, preparing the way, covers the whole path with richest flowers and perfumes ; next follows scorch- ing Summer, and dusty Ceres closely attendant on her, and the Etesian breezes of the northern winds ; ^ then succeeds Autumn, together with whom advances Bacchus ; then follow other weather and other winds, the loud-resounding south-east and the south fraught with thunder ; at length cold brings on snows, and spreads abroad benumbing chillness, and Winter comes after, and frost chattering with £us teeth. Since, there- fore, so many things may occur at a certain time, it is the less surprising if the moon is at a certain time produced, and at a certain time decays.

As for the eclipses of the sun, and occultations of the moon,^ you must suppose that they may arise from various causes. For, {as joxi perhaps ask,) why should the moon only be thought able to shut out the world from light, and to oppose her high head to it on the side of the earth,^ (obtending her dark orb to

"* Etesian breezes of the northern winds.] Ver. 741. Etesiaflabra AqtUhnum, Etesian wiruh mean yearly wincu; but the term was oflen applied by the Greeks to the north winds, which were said to blow annuallv at the rising of the dog-star. See the commentators on Demosthenes, Phil. i. 11.

* Occultations of the moon.] Ver. 750. Lunmgue latebras, Latehrce signifies obscurations or eclipses, as Creech rightly interprets. '^ He now begins to speaji of the eclipses of the sun and moon : and first of those of the sun." Lambinue,

' And to oppose her high head to it on the side of the earth.] Ver. 753. Et d terris aUum caput dbetruere ei. " Objicere corpus suum supra terras elatum," says Creech ; but d terria surely means on the side of the earth. With ei Lambinus and Creech understand aoli; I prewr lumini.

B. V. 754—777. LUCRETIUS. 221

the sun^s glowing rays,) and not some other body, ^ which may always revolve devoid of light, be considered able to produce such an effect at the same time ?

And why, also, may not the sun, at a certain time, send forth his radiance languidly, and again renew his splendour, when, in his passage through the air, he has passed by certain places which, we may suppose, are hurtful to his beams, and which cause his fires to be Suppressed and extinguished ?

And why should the earth have power,^ in its turn, to de- prive the moon of light, and, passing itself above, to keep the sun shut oxki from her, (while she passes monthly through the dense coniform shadow,) and why should not some other body be able, at that time, to pass beneath the moon, or to glide over the orb of the sun, which body may intercept from her his effulgent rays and spreading light ?

And still, if the moon shines herself by her own brightness, why may she not grow dim in a certain part of the world, while she passes through regions noxious to her light f

For what remains, since I have shown how every thing may occur in the blue sky of our vast world, in order that we might understand what power and causes might produce the varied course of the sun and the wanderings of the moon, and by what means they are accustomed to have their light ob- structed and eclipsed,^ and to spread sudden darkness over the earth, (when they shut their eyes, as it were, for a time, and then, having opened them again, cover every fair region with

* Some other body devoid of light.] Ver. 755. Alittd eorput —

caaaum himine. Compare what he says in reference to the phases of the moon, ver. 716, seq, Comp. also ver. 764 — 766.

* And why should the earth have power, 4ic.] Ver. 761.

£t quur terra queat lunam spoliare vicissim Lumine, et oppressum solem super ipsa tenere. Menstrua dum rigidas coni perlabitur undas.

*' Ipsa is to be referred to the earth, as the sense of the following verses proves." Faber, By coni umbras , savs Lambinus. is meant " the extreme part of the earth's shadow ; though some oy the cone understand the earth itself; which Aristotle {Mereuip, lib. ii.) affirms to be shaped like a drum, and says that lines drawn from its centre form two cones." Creech interprets, " rigidam terrae umbram, quae est conicae figurae ; " to which interpretation I have adapted my ver- sion.

' To have their light obstructed and eclipsed.] Ver. 774. Offecto lumine obire.

222 LUCRETIUS. B, V. 778—804.

shining light,) I now return to the early age of the world, and the tender fields of earth, to consider what kiTid of productions they first ventured,* with their new power of generation, to raise into the regions of light, and to commit to uncertain winds.

In the beginning, then, the earth spread over the hills the growth of herbs, and the beauty of verdure, and the flowery fields, throughout all regions, shone with a green hue ; and then was given, to the various kinds of trees, full power of shooting upwards through the air.^ For as feathers, and hairs, and bristles, are first produced over the limbs of quadrupeds and the bodies of the winged tribes, so the new earth then first put forth herbs and trees ; and afterwards generated the numerous races of animals,^ which arose in various forms and by various modes. For animals, that were to live on the earth, could assuredly neither have fallen from the sky,* nor have come forth from the salt depths of the sea. It remains, there- fore, to believe that the earth must justly have obtained the name of mother, since from the earth all living creatures were born. And even now many animals spring forth from the earth, which are generated by means of moisture and the quickening heat of the sun. It is accordingly less wonderful, if, at that time, creatures more numerous and of larger size arose, and came to maturity while the earth and the air were yet fresh and vigorous.

First of all, the race of winged animals, and variegated birds, left their eggs, being excluded in the season of spring ; as grasshoppers, in these days, spontaneously leave their thin coats ^ in the summer, proceeding to seek sustenance and life.

Next, be assured, the earth produced, for the first time, the tribes of men and beasts ; for much heat and moisture abound-

* Ventured.] Ver. 780. Creduint * ** Creduint for credideiinty i. e. conjisa, ausafuertnt arva.*' Forhiger. Sed alii aliter,

* Full power of shooting upwards through the air.] Ver. 785. Crescundi magnum immissis certamen habenis. Virg. Georg. ii. S6u.

Dum se laetus ad auras Palmes agit, laxia per purum immissus habenis.

* Numerous races of animals.] Ver. 789. Mortalia corda multa. Al. scecla,

* Fallen from the sky, ^-c] Ver. 791. See ii. 1154—1157.

* Thin coats.] Ver. 801. Folliculos teretes, Comp. iv. oQ. " Ro- tundas gracilesque tunicas." Creech,

B. V. 805-337. LUCRETIUS. 223

ed through the plains, and hence, where any suitable region offered itself, a kind of wombs sprung up,^ adhering to the earth by fibres. These, when the age of the infants within them, at the season of maturity, had opened, (escaping from their moist-enclosure, and seeking for air,) nature, in those places, prepared the pores of the earth, and forced it to pour from its open veins a liquid like milk ; just as every woman at present, when she has brought forth, is stored with sweet milk, because all the strength of the food is directed to the breasts. T^us the earth afforded nourishment to the infants ; the warmth rendered a garment unnecessary ; and the grass supplied a couch abounding with luxuriant and tender down.

But the early age of the world gave forth neither severe cold nor extraordinary heat, nor winds of impetuous violence. For all these alike increase and acquire strength by time.

For which cause, / say again and again, the earth has justly acquired, and justly retains, the name of mother, since she herself brought forth the race of men, and produced, at this certain time, almost every kind of animal which exults over the vast mountains, and the birds of the air, at the same period, with all their varied forms. But because she must necessarily have some termination to bearing, she ceased, like a woman, exhausted by length of time. For lapse of time changes the nature of the whole world, and one condition after another must succeed to all things, nor does any being con* tinue always like itself. All is unsettled ; nature alters and impels every thing to change. For one thing decays, and, grown weak through age, languishes ; another, again, grows up, and bursts forth from contempt.^ Thus age changes the nature of the whole world, and one condition after another falls upon the earth ; so that what she could once bear she can bear no longer ; while she can bear what she did not bear of old.

The earth, also, in that age, made efforts to produce va- rious monsters, that sprung up with wonderful faces and limbs ; the hermaphrodite, between both sexes, and not either,

* Wombs sprung up, 4rc.] Ver. 806. Crescebant uteri terree radicibtts apti. This is mentioned as an opinion of some philosophers by Diod. Sic. i. 7, and as an opinion of Epicurus by Censorinus, p. 11, 9.

^ Bursts forth from contempt.] Ver. 831. E contenitibus exit. He repeats the same expression in ver. 1278.

224 LUCRETIUS. ». v. 838—868.

but removed from both ; others wanting feet, and others des- titute of hands ; some also were found dumb for want of a mouth, and some blind without even a face ; and others again were shackled by the cohesion of their limbs over their whole bodies, so that they could neither do any thing, nor go in any direction ; could neither avoid harm, nor take what was ne- cessary to preserve life.

Other prodigies and portents of this kind she generated ; but to no purpose ; for nature abhorred and prevented their increase ; nor could they reach the desired maturity of age, or find nutriment, or be united in the pleasures of love. For we see that many circumstances must concur with other cir- cumstances, in order that living creatures may be able to pro- duce their kinds by propagation. First it is necessary that ^ there be food ; then that there be genial semen throughout the organs, which may flow when the limbs are relaxed in union; and likewise, for the female to be united with the male, they must both have correspondent members, by which each may combine in mutual delight with the other.

Many kinds of animal life, too, must then have perished, not having been able to continue their species by propagation. For whatever creatures you see breathing the vital air, assuredly either craft, or courage, or at least activity, has preserved and defended their race from the commencement of its existence. And there are many which, from their usefulness to mankind, remain, a^ it were, intrusted to us, and committed to our guardianship.

In the first place, courage has protected the fierce brood of lions, and the savage races of other wild animals ; and craft has secured the fox, as swiftness has saved the stag. But the light-slumbering breed of dogs, with their faithful affections, and all the various species of horses,^ and the woolly flocks, too, and horned cattle, all these, my dear Memmi'us, are com- mitted to the protection of man. For they have anxiously avoided wild beasts, and have sought peace ; and plenty of subsistence has been provided for them without labour of theirs, which subsistence we secure to them as a reward in

* And all the various species of horses.] Ver. 863. Et genus omne quod est veterino semine partum. I have translated this by horses^ but it means all kinds of beasts that are serviceable to man by car- rying or drawing. Quasi veheterinus, from veho* Comp. ver. 888.

B. V. 869—897. LUCRETIUS. 225

return for their service. But of those to whom nature has given no such qualities, that they should either be able to live of themselves, or to afford us any service, why should we suffer the races to be maintained and protected by our sup- port ? Indeed all these, rendered helpless by their own fatal bonds, were exposed as a prey and a prize to other animals^ until nature brought their whole species to destruction.

But Centaurs, and such creatures, there neither were, nor ever can be ; for there can never exist an animal formed of a double nature and of two bodies ; an animal made up of such heterogeneous members that the power in the opposite por- tions of the frame cannot possibly be equal This you may learn, with however dull an understanding,^ from the follow- ing observations.

First, the horse, when three years of his age have passed, is flourishing in full vigour ; the boy, at this time of life, is by no means so^ but will even often seek in his sleep the milky teats of his mother^s breast. A^i'^&i^s, when, in old age, his lusty vigour and stout limbs are failing the horse, (growing tor- pid as iSe is departing,) behold, at that very period, the young man's age being in its flower, youth prevails in him,^ and clothes his cheeks with soft down ; so that you cannot pos- sibly imagine that Centaurs can be composed or consist of a man and the servile seed of a horse ;^ or that there can he Scylke, of half-marine bodies, cinctured with fierce dogs ; or other monsters of this sort, whose parts we observe to be incompatible with each other ; parts which neither grow up together in their bodies, nor acquire vigour together, nor lose their strength^ together in old age; and which are neither excited by the same objects of affection, nor agree with the same tempers, ixov find that the same hiftds of food are nu- tritious to their bodies*^ For you may observe that bearded

* With however dull an understanding.] Ver. 880. Quamvis he- beti corde.

* Youth prevails in him.] Ver. 887. Jwentaa Officii, " Intervenit." Wakefield. Al. Occipit,

^ Servile seed of a horse.] Ver. 888. Veterino semine equorum, Comp. ver. 863.

* Lose their strength.] Ver. 894. Perficiunt **That is, bring (their strength^ to an end.*' Wakefield.

* Nutritious to their bodies.] Ver. 896. Joconda per artus. Jucundus, from JuvOf to help or sustain.

Q

226 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 898—931.

goats often grow fat on hemlock, which to men is rank poison.

Since, too, the fl^e of fire is accustomed to scorch and bum up the tawny bodies of lions, as well as every kind of creature on earth that consists of flesh and blood, how was it possible that a Chimsera, one animal compounded of three bodies, the fore part a lion, the hinder a dragon, the middle a goat,^ could blow abroad at its mouth' a fierce fiame out of its body?

For which reason, he who supposes that such animals might have been produced, even When the earth was new and the air fresh, (leaning for argument only on this empty term of newness,) may babble, with equal reason, many other hypo- theses of a like nature. He may say that rivers of gold then flowed every where over the earth, and that the groves were accustomed to blossom with jewels ; or that men were formed with such power and bulk of limbs, that they could ex- tend their steps over the deep seas, and turn the whole heaven around them with' their hands. For though, at the time when the earth first produced animal life, there were in- numerable seeds of things in the ground, this is yet no proof that creatures could have been generated of mixed natures, and that heterogeneous members of animals could have been blended together. Since the various kinds of herbs, and fruits, and rich groves, which even now spring- up-exuberantly from the earth, can nevertheless not be produced with a union of different kinds. But they can readily be produced^ if each proceeds in its own order, and all preserve their distinctions according to the fixed law of nature.

And that early race of men upon the earth was much more hardy; as it was natural that they should be, for the hard earth herself bore them. They were internally sustained with bones both larger and more solid, and furnished with strong nerves throughout their bodies; nor were they a ra^ie that could easily be injured by heat or cold, or by change of food, or by any corporeal malady.

And during many lustres of the sun, revolving through the heaven, they prolonged their lives after the roving manner of wild beasts. No one was either a driver of the crooked

^ The middle a goat.] V er. 903. MedM ipsa, Ckimcera (xifiatpa ) signifies a goat.

B. V. 932—956. LUCRETIUS. 227

plough, or knew how to turn up the fields with the spade, or to plant young seedlings in the earth, or to cut, with pruning- hooks, the old boughs from the lofty trees. That supply which the sun and rain had afforded, or which the earth had yielded of its own accord, sufficiently gratified their desires. They refreshed themselves, for the most part, among the acorn-laden oaks. The earth, too, then furnished abundance of whortle- berries,! even larger than at present, which you now see. ripen in winter, and become of a purple colour. And many rude kinds of nourishment besides, ample for hapless mortals, the florid freshness of the world in those days produced.

The rivers and fountains then invited them to quench their thirst, as the echoing fall of waters from the high hills now calls, far and wide, the thirsty tribes of wild beasts. After- wards they occupied the sylvan temples of the nymphs, well known to the wanderers ; from which the goddesses sent forth flowing rills of water,^ to lave with a copious flood the humid rocks, trickling over the green moss, and to swell and burst forth, with a portion of their streams, over the level plain.

Nor as yet did they understand how to improve their con- dition by the aid of fire, or to use skins, and to clothe their bodies with the spoils of wild beasts. But they dwelt in groves, and hollow mountains, and woods ; and, when com- pelled to flee from the violence of the wind and rain, sheltered their rude limbs amid the thickets.

Nor could they have regard to any common interest, or

» Whortle-berries.] Ver. 939. Arbuta, Good translates this, " The wild wood-whoTtle,'* observing that commentators have unuormly understood that " tlie arborescent and garden strawberry-tree " is here signified, which bears^ " a crimson fruit about the size of an Orleans plum ;" but that this fruit is ** extremely sour and unpleas- ant to the taste," and is never employed "for purposes of food." He therefore thinks that Lucretius means that species of arbutus called by Caspar Bauhine " Vitis IcUea, the common whortle or cran- berry," which " has an agreeable sub-acid flavoiur when tasted alone," but " is more generally eaten with cream or milk sweetened with sugar, or else in the form of preserves ; in which latter state it is very largely made use of in Russia, and, indeed, among all the northern nations."

* Flowing rills of water.]) Ver. 948. Eumore fluenta Lubrica. '' Id est, fluenta humida et liquida." Lamfdntu, The words Eumida saxtty " humid rocks," are elegantly repeated in the original, but could not be repeated to any purpose in a prose transla^^n.

q2

228 LUCRETIUS. b. v. 957-987.

understand how to observe any customs or laws among them- selves. Whatever prize fortune had thrown in the way of any one, on that he seized ; each knowing onlt/ to profit by his own instinct, and to live for himself.

And Venus united the persons of lovers in the woods ; for either mutual desire reconciled each female to the intercourse, or the impetuous force and vehement lust of the man over- came, her; or acorns and whortle-berries, or choice crabs,* were the purchase of her favours.

And, relying on the extraordinary vigour of their hands and feet, they pursued the sylvan tribes of wild beasts with missile stones and ponderous clubs ; and many they overcame, whUe a few escaped them in their dens ; and, when surprised by night, they threw their savage limbs, like bristly boars, unprotected on the earth, covering themselves over with leaves and branches.

Nor did they, trembling and wandering in the shades of night, seek to recall the day^ and the sun with loud cries throughout the fields, but, silent and buried in sleep, they waited till Phoebus, with his roseate beams, should again spread light over the heavens. For since they had always been accustomed, from their infancy, to see darkness and light produced at alternate seasons, it was impossible that they should ever wonder at the change, or feel apprehension lest, the beams of the sun being withdrawn for ever, eternal night should keep possession of the earth. But what rather gave them trouble, was, that the tribes of wild beasts often disturbed the rest of hapless sleepers; while, driven from their cell at the approach of a foaming boar or stout lion, they fied from their rocky shelter, and yielded up with trembling, at the dead of night, their couches of leaves to the savage intruders.

Nor ifet did the race of men, in those days, leave with la- mentations the sweet light of life in much greater numbers

* Choice crabs.J Ver. 963. Ptra lecta. " Pears,'* says Good, ** are a cultivated fruit, introduced, indeed, by grafting or inocula- tion alone, from the wild crab^ which is the common origin of the pear, the apple, and the qumce." He therefore translates pira

crabs," and I have followed him.

^ Nor did they — seek to recall the day, Sfc.'] Ver. 971. Nee plan- gore diem, &c. Some philosophers had attributed such surprise and despair to the earliest race of men ; to which Manilius alludes, book i. 66, seq.

B. V. 988—1007. LUCRETIUS. 229

than at present. For though more frequentlp at that period, one individual of their number, being caught by wild beasts, and consumed by their teeth, afforded them living food, and filled, meanwhile, the groves, and mountains, and forests, with his shrieks, as he felt his bowels buried in a living tomb ; ^ while those whom flight had saved, with their bodies torn, and pressing their trembling hands over their grievous wounds, called on death with horrid cries, until, destitute of relief, and ignorant what their hurts required, cruel tortures^ deprived them of life. Yet, in those times, one day did not consign to destruction many thousands of men under military banners ; nor did the boisterous floods of the sea dash ships and men upon rocks. But the ocean, though often rising and swelling, raged in vain and to no purpose,^ and laid aside its empty threats without eflect; nor could the deceitful allurement of its calm water entice, with its smiling waves, any one into danger ; for the daring art of navigation was then un- known. Want of food then consigned languishing bodies to death ; now, on the contrary, abundance of luxuries causes destruction. The men of those times often poured out poison

* As he felt his bowels buried in a living tomb.] Ver. 991. Viva videns vivo sepeliri viscera busto, Gorgias the rhjetorician is censured by Longinus (Sect. 3)^ for calling vultures ifi^x^ ra^ot, but Lu-, cretius, says Faber, being a ^oet, may be^ allowed to use such an expression. There is a similar conceit in Milton, Sams. Ag. ver. 102,

Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave.

And another in Pope, Essay on Man, iii. 162,

Man

Of half that live the butcher and the tomb.

* Cruel tortures.] Ver. 995. Vermina sava. ** Venmna is a dis- ease of the body, with a slight motion in it, as if the patient were afflicted with worms. It is called by the Greeks trrpo^bg." Festus, " Vermina sunt tormina, unde verminari, pati tormina." Vossius De Anal. i. p. ISO. Creech interprets vermma simply vermes, and Good gives '* vile worms," which may, indeed, be the right sense.

' But the ocean, though often rising and aueUing, raged in vain and to no purpose.] Ver. 1002. This is the only passage in which I have departed from the text of Forbiger, in whose edition i^ stands thus : Nee temere incassttm fruMtra mare eape coorium eavibat. He attempts to make sense of it by referring the conjunction nee ** not onlv to the verb eavibat, but to all the sentence, as if Lucretius had said, nee seepe temere mare oooriebatur et a4Bvib€U.** But whom will this satisfy? Wakefield supplies m fiai>e< from the preceding verse, as if Lucretius would have said that the ocean did not often rage

230 LUCRETIUS. B. v: 1008— 1040.

for themselves unawares ; now persons of their own accord give it craftily to others.

Afterwards, when they procured huts, and skins, and fire, and the woman, united to the man, came to dwell in the same place tmth him; and when the pure and pleasing con- nexions of undivided love were known, and they saw a pro- geny sprung from themselves; then iSrst the human race beg^ to be softened and civilized. For fire now rendered their shivering bodies less able to endure the cold under the canopy of heaven ; and love diminished their strength ; and children with their blandishments easily subdued the ferocious tempers of their parents. Then, also, neighbours, feeling a mutual friendship, began to form agreements not to hurt or injure one another; and they commended, with sounds and gestures, their children, and the female sex, to each other's protection ; while they signified, with imperfect speech, that it is right for every one to have compassion on the weak. Such concord, however, could not be established universally ; but the better and greater part kept their faith inviolate, or the human race would then have been wholly destroyed, and the species could not have continued its generations to the present period.

But nature prompted men to utter the various sounds of the tongue, and convenience drew from them the names of things, almost in the same manner as inability to use the tongue seems to excite children to gesture, when it causes them to point with the finger at objects which are present before them. For every creature is sensible that it can use its own faculty. Uven before horns are produced on the forehead of a calf, it butts and pushes fiercely with it when enraged ; and the young of panthers, and whelps of lions, contend with their talons, and feet, and teeth, when their teeth and talons are yet scarcely grown. We see, moreover, that the whole race of birds trust to their wings, and seek a fluttering support from their pinions. To suppose, therefore, that any one man ^ then assigned names

against ships when there were no ships. Try what mode of explan- ation you please, **nec," as Lachmann says, "perverts the sense." Lambmus reads 8ed, and him I have followed. Lachmann himself gives hie. The meaning of the passage evidently is, that there were then no ships for the ocean to wreck.

* To suppose, therefore, that any one tnatif 4fc.] Ver. 1040. Proinde

B. V. 1041—1070. LUCRETIUS. 231

to things, and that men thence learned their first words, is to think absurdly ; for why should this one man be able to dis- tinguish all things with names, and to utter the varied accents of the voice, and others not be deemed able to do this at the same time ? Besides, if others had not also used words among themselves, whence was the knowledge dfthem ingrafted in him ? Whence was power first given to him, that he should under- stand, and discern in his mind, what expediency would wish to effect ? One, likewise, would not be able to compel many, and oblige them, by force, to submit to learn his names of things ; nor could he by any means teach, or persuade men unfitted to listen, what was necessary to be done ; for neither would they at all bear with patience, or long suffer him to din into their ears, to no purpose, the strange and unintelligible sounds of his voice.

Lastly, what is there so wonderful in this matter, if the human race, whose voice and tongue were in full vigour, dis- tinguished various objects by sounds, according to their various feetings ; when dumb cattle, and even the tribes of wild beasts, are wont to utter different and distinct cries when terror or pain affects their hearts^ and when joy prevails in them ? For this you may observe by manifest instances.

When the large flabby jaws of the Molossian dogs begin to growl, as they are irritated, exposing their hard teeth, their violent fury ^ threatens with a far different sound from that which they utter when they merely bark, and fill all the neigh- bourhood with yelping. And when they begin to lick their whelps tenderly with their tongue, or when they fondle them with their paws, and, snapping at them, affect gently to swallow them up with teeth suspended over them^ they soothe them with a sort of whining, using their voice far otherwise than when they howl, deserted in hnely buildings, or when,

putare aliquem turn nomina diatribuiatet &c. ** This is directed against Pythagoras, to whom it seemed to have been the office of the High- est wisdom to give names to all things ; and against Plato, who, in his Cratylus, says that names were given to thmgs, not hy^ chance, hut by regular plan and contrivance ; and that he who first invented the names was called dvofiarovpybg, and 6vofmro9krfiQ," Lambtntu.

* Violent fury.] Ver. 1064. Babies districta. Fury draum like a stoord, as Wakefield interprets it; equivalent to ronton denies dis- tricti.

232 LUCRETIUS. B.v. 1071—1091.

with crouchiDg body, tbej slink whimpering from beneath a blow.

Again, does not the voice of the horse seem also to differ, when, as a vigorous steed in the flower of his age, arui pierced with the goads of winged love, he rages-wildly among the mares ; and when he utters a snorting for war from his ex- panded nostrils, and thus^ with his limbs trembling, neighs in quite other tones ? ^

Further, the winged tribes, and various birds, hawks, and eagles,^ and gulls, which, amid the waves of the sea, seek their food and living in the salt noater, utter far other cries at other times, than when they contend for sustenance and fight about prey. Occasionally, also, the long-lived generations of crows, and the flocks of ravens, change their hoarse notes with the weather, when they are said sometimes to call for rain and showers, and sometimes to cry for gales of wind.

If various feelings, therefore, impel the inferior animals, though they are destitute of speech, to utter various sounds, how much more consonant is it to reason, that men, even in those early days, should have been able to distinguish different objects by different names !

And lest, perchance, in reference to these subjects, you should meditate with yourself as to the following pointy and be anxious to know the origin offire^ ItoUl inform you that light- ning first brought flame down upon the earth for mortals, and

' Thus — neighs in quite other tones.] Ver. 1075, 1076.

£t fremitum patulis sub naribus edit ad arma, £t quom sic ali^, concussis artibus, hinnit ?

This is Forbiger's reading. Wakefield injudiciously transposed the two verses. Lambinus (whom Creech follows) reads Et quom m, for «tti8, justly observing that the mc is *' idle and unmeaning." He also asks the question, "^ Qusenam arma? Martiane, an Venerea? *' but does not decide for either ; Lachmann understands the latter. Creech parajphrases the lines thus : *' vel cum in pugnam initurus ^ patulis nanbus hinnitum edit^ et ctlm alias propter causas artibus concussis hinnit ; " understandmg, apparently, tne first verse de ar- mis MartiiSy and the second de armis VenereU. I have referred them both to the arms of Mars, believing that Virgil had this passage in his mind when he unrote tne vigorous lines,

Stare loco nescit, micat auribus, et tremit artus, 4r^. * Eagles.] Ver. 1078. Ossifragoi, " A kind of eagle ; see Pliny X. 2." Lambinus,

B. V. 1092--1121. LUCRETIUS. 233

that from thence all the $re in the world^ is spread abroad. For we even now see many substances, struck with fire from heaven, ignite, when the ethereal region has sent down its flames. Though it is not to be forgotten, indeed, that when a branching tree,^ struck by the winds, is shaken and agitated, moving to and fro, and pressing against the boughs of another tree, fie, excited by the violent friction, is elicited 5 so that sometimes^ while the branches and stems are rubbed together, a fervid glow of flame bursts forth ; of which causes, accord" ingly, either might have supplied fire to mankind.

The sun next instructed them to dress their food, and soften it with the heat of flame ; for they saw many things, through- out the fields, mollified by the force of his beams and subdued by his warmth. Hence those who excelled in sense, and had power of understanding, . taught the others, every day more and more, to change their rude diet,^ and former mode of life, for new practices and improvements by means qf^re.

At length the leaders began to build cities, and to found fortresses, as a protection and refuge for themselves. They also divided the cattle and the fields, and allotted them accord- ing to the beauty, and strength, and understanding of each tn- dividual; for beauty was dien much esteemed, and strength had great influence. Afterwards wealth was introduced, and gold brought to light, which easily robbed the strong and beautiful of their honour ; for men, however strong, or en- dowed with however beautiful a person, generally follow the party of the richer.

But to man, whoever governs his life according to true rea- son, it is great wealth to live on a little with a contented mind; for of a little there is no want. Yet men wished themselves to be honoured and powerful, that their fortune might rest on a steady foundation, and that themselves, being

^ All the fire in the world.'] Ver. 1092. Onmis Jhanmarum ardor.

' When a branching tree, Sgc] Ver. 1095. See i. 896.

' Every day more and more to change their rude diet.! Ver. 1 104. Inque dies nMoit itwietum — eomntutare. Invietua is a word intro- duced from three MSS. by Forbiger, in the sense of /3toc dfiios, Lam- binus and Wakefield read m vietum ; and Wakefield explains com- mutare in victum to be the same as commtUare victum, or tnutationee importare in victum. But Creech adopted hi victum, ftrom a conjec- ture of Naugerius, which Lachmann has retained. In Forbiger there is a misprint of Jnde for Inque,

234 LUCEETIUS. B. V. 1122—1150.

Strong, might pass an undisturbed life. But this they desired in vain ; for, as they strove to reach the highest honours, they rendered the course of their steps full of trouble. And still, though they attain their object, envy, like a thunderbolt, hurls them at times from their pre-eminence, and sinks them with scorn cw into the gloom of Tartarus ; so that it is far better to obey in quiet, than to seek to hold states under our swBjy and to manage kingdoms. . Let men, therefore, if they will, sweat out their life's blood,* wearying themselves to no purpose, and struggling along the narrow road of ambition ; (for the highest objects, and whatever are more exposed on eminences,* are generally sooner scorched with envy as well as with lightning ;) since they gather knowledge only from the mouths of others, and pursue things rather from what they hear than from their own judgments. Nor does this folly prevail more now, or will it prevail more hereafter, than it has already prevailed in past time.

Kings, therefore,^ being deposed and slain, the ancient ma- jesty of their thrones, and their proud sceptres, lay overthrown in the dust ; and the illustrious ornament of the royal head, stained with blood beneath the feet of the rabble, mourned the loss of its supreme honour ; for that which has been too much feared before, is eagerly trodden down.

Power, accordingly, returned to the lowest dregs and rabble of mankind, whilst each sought dominion and eminence for himself. But at length the wiser part taught them to establish a government, and made laws^br them, that they might consent to observe order ; for mankind, weary of passing their lives in a state of violence, were worn out with contentions ; on which account they fell more submissively under the power of laws and strict ordinances. For because every one, in his resent- ment, prepared to take revenge for himself more severely than is now allowed by equitable laws, men, for this reason, be- came disgusted with living in strife. Since, from this source,

* Sweat out their life's blood.] Ver. 1128. Sanguine sudenU I am indebted to Good for the translation of these words.

* Whatever are more exposed on eminences.] Ver. 1131. Qum tunt alHa magia edUa quomqtte, ** Exposed on high places, or promi- nent." Wakefield,

' Kings, therefore, S^e.'] Ver. 1135. Ergo regihm occisis. The crjro, therefore, refers to what is said, in the preceding paragraph, about the lofty being humbled ; unless, indeed, some lines have oeen lost.

B. V. 1161-1176. LUCRETIUS. 235

the fear of punishment poisons the enjoyments of life ; for violence and injury involve every one, and generally recoil upon the head of him from whom they arose ; nor is it possible for any one to live a quiet and peaceable life, who violates by his actions the common bonds of peace. For though his guilt escape, for a time, the knowledge of both gods and men, yet he cannot feel sure that it will always be hidden ; since many, speaking frequently in dreams, or being delirious in sickness, are said to have revealed ikevr secrets^ and to have published to the world long-concealed crimes.

In the next place, what cause spread abroad, throughout the wide nations of the earthy the notion of the existence and power of the gods, and filled cities with altars, and led solemn sacred rites to be instituted ; (which sacred rites now flourish and are performed on all important occasions and in all distinguished places ;) whence also terror pervades mortals; a terror which raises new temples of the deities throughout the whole globe of the earth, and impels men to celebrate their worship on feast days ; it is not so difficult, as it mat/ seem^ to explain.^

For, in those early times of which we speak, the tribes of mortals beheld in their minds, even when awake, glorious images as of gods,^ and saw them, in their sleep, sttU more dis- tinctly, and of a wondrous magnitude of figure. To these, therefore, they attributed vitality, because they seemed to move their limbs, and to utter majestic words, suitable to their dis- tinguished appearance and mighty strength. And they as- signed to them an immortal existence, because their appear- ances came-in-constant-succession, and their form remained the same ; although they might certainly have deemed them immortal on another account,^ as they would consider that

* To explain.] Ver. 1167. Rationem reddere verbis, ^ Glorious images as of gods.] Ver. 1168. Divtmt egregiaa fades. This is a most unsatisfactory way of accounting for the first con- ception of supernatural beings. "^ Consistently with his common doctrine," says Good, "Lucretius imputes the more frequent ap- pearance of those heavenly semblances, or rather their being more frequently perceived by mankind, in those early ages of the world, to the greater degree of solitude and tranquillity in which life was then passed." This is, however, not to be found in the passage before us. Other commentators are silent.

^ Although thej/ might certainly have deemed them immortal on another account.^ Ver. 1176. Et tamen omnino. The words supplied are

236 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 1177—1207.

beings, endowed with snch apparent strength, could not easily be subdued by any destructive force. And they thought them pre-eminent in happiness, because the fear of death could thus trouble none of them, and because, at the same time, they saw them, in their dreams, do many and wonderful actions^ and ex- perience, flw it seemedy no difficulty in the performance of them.

Besides, they observed the revolutions of the heavens, and the various seasons of the year, go round in a cert^n order, and yet could not understand by what causes these effects were produced. They had, then, this resource for themselves, to ascribe all things to gods, and to make all things be guided by their will.

And the seats and abodes ^ of these gods they placed in the sky, because through the sky the night and the moon are seen to revolve; the moon, I say, the day, and the night, and the august constellations^ of night, and the nocturnal luminaries of the heavens, and the flying meteors, <is well as the clouds, the sun, rain, snow, winds, lightnings, hail, and the vehement noises and loud threatening murmurs of the thunder,

O unhappy race of men ! as they attributed such acts, be- sides ascribing bitter wrath, to the gods ! What lamentations did they then prepare for themselves, and what sufferings for us ! what fears have they entailed upon our posterity !

Nor is it any piety for a man to be seen, unth his head veiled, turning towards a stone, and drawing near to every altar ; or to fall prostrate on the ground, and to stretch out his hands before the shrines of the gods ; or to sprinkle the altars with copious blood of four-footed beasts, and to add vows to vows ; but it is rather piety to be able to contemplate all things with a serene mind. For when we look up to the celestial regions of the vast world above, and contemplate the firmament studded with glittering stains, and reflect upon the revolutions of the sun and moon, the apprehension lest there should, perchance, be an almighty power of the gods above us, which guides the stars in their various motions, begins then to raise its head, as if awaking,, within our breast ; an

from the suggestion of Wakefield. Other editions have Et manet

omnino, which is not very intelligihle.

» Abodes.] Ver. 1187. Templa. "Domos." Creech,

* August constellations.] Ver. 1189. Si^na severa, " Veneranda,

dia, sacra." Lambmtu,

B, V. 1208-1240. LUCEBTIUS. 237

apprehension which, perhaps, before lay dormant under the weight of other cares. Since {toverty of reason, and iffnor- ance of natural causes, disquiet the mind, while it doubts whether there was any birth, or commencement of the world, or whether there is any limit of time, qntil which the walls of the world,^ and the silent movements of the heavenly bodies, can endure this incessant labour; or whether the heavens, di- vinely endow^ed with an imperishable nature,, can, as they roll along time'a eternal course, defy the mighty power of endless

age.

Besides, whose heart does not shrink at the terrors of the gods ? Whose limbs do not shudder with dread, when the scorched earth trembles with the awful stroke of lightning, and when the roars of thunder pervade the vast heaven ? Dq not people and nations tremble ? And do not proud monarchs, penetrated with fear K the deities, recoil in every nerve, lest, for some foul depd, or arrogant word, the dread time of pay- ing penalty be come ? "^

When, likewise, the mighty force of a tempestuous wind, raffing over the sea, sweeps athwart the deep the commander of a fleet with all his powerful legions and elephants,^- does he not solicit peace of the gods with vows, and timidly im- plore them with prayers, for a lull of the winds and a pros- perous gale ? But, alas ! he implores them to no purpose ; for, frequently, seized by a violent hurricane, he is neverthe- less borne away to the shoals of death. Thus some unseen power, apparently, bears upon human things, and seems to trample down proud fasces and cruel axes, and make them merely a sport for itself.

Further, when the whole earth totters under our feet, and cities, shaken to their base, fall or threaten to fall, what wonder is it, that the nations of the world despise and humble them- selves, and admit the vast influence of the gods over the world, and their stupendous power to govern all things ?

Moreover, brass, and gold,' and iron were discovered, as

^ Walls of the world.] Ver. 1212. Mcmia mundi. That is, the heavens. Men cannot but suspect that the heavens may at length be worn out by perpetual revolutions.

' Elephants.] Ver. 1227. Which he is transporting, to make war in a foreign country.

^ Moreover, brass, and gol^ 4r^.] Ver. 1240. Quod mperett as atque aurum, &c. He now proceeds to tell how metals were discovered..

238

LUCRETIUS. B. V. 1241—1272.

well as heavy silver, and the substance of lead,* at a time when fire had consumed mighty forests upon the high mountains, either from lightning having been hurled upon them, or because meUy warring among themselves in the woods, had set fire to them for a terror to their enemies ; or else because, moved by the goodness of the soil, they wished to lay open fertile fields, and to render the. country fit for pasturage; or because they sought to kill the wild beasts, and to enrich themselves with their spoils. For to catch the game by means of pitfalls and fire, became a practice before m^n surrounded the forest with nets, or roused the anhnals with dogs.

However this may be, or from whatever cause the rage of the fire, with frightful noise, had consumed the woods from their deepest roots, and had melted the earth with heat, there flowed from the boiling veins, uniting in the hollow places of the soil, a stream of silver and gold, as well as of brass and lead ; which, when they afterwards saw it congealed, and shining with a bright colour on the ground, they took up, being attracted by its glittering and smooth lustre ; and they observed that the masses were formed of the same shape as the figure of the receptacle of each had been. It then occur- red to them, that these metals, being melted with heat, might settle into any form or figure of things, and. might also be fashioned, by beating out, into the sharpest and finest points of instruments, so that they might make tools for themselves, and be able both to cut down the woods, and hew timber, and smooth and polish boards, as well as to pierce, excavate, and bore.

These instruments they at first attempted to make of silver and gold, no less than of the strong substance of hard brass ; but in vain ; for the consistence of those metals yielded and gave way, and both were alike unable to bear severe usage. Accordingly brass was then more in esteem, and gold was

Similar extractions of metals from the earth, casual or otherwise, are mentioned by Aristotle, De Mirab. p. 102, ed. Sylb. ; Athenaeus, vi. 4, sub Jin. ; Strabo, lib. iii. p. 147; Diodorus Sicuhis, Ant. lib. iv., haud longl ab init. jiE» I have rendered brass^ (not copper , as Good translates it,) for Servius, (ad iEn. xii. 87,) alluding to this very passage of Lucretius, makes it equivalent to orichalcumj wliich is generally understood to be brass.

* Substance of lead.] Ver. 1241. Plumbi potestas. The same as plumbi vis, or plunUmm ipsum.

B. V. 1273—1302. LUCRETIUS. 239

neglected on account of its uselessness, as taking only a dull edge and blunt, point; now brass is despised, and gold lias succeeded to the highest honours. For thus revolving time changes the seasons of things ; that which was once in estimation, becomes of no repute at all ; while another thing succeeds, and bursts forth from contempt ; ^ something tvhich is daily more and more sought, and which, when found, flour- ishes among mankind with special praise and wonderful honour.

It is now easy for thee to understand of thyself, my Mem-^ mius, how the nature and tise of iron were discovered.

The first weapons of mankind were the hands, nails, and teeth ; also stones, and branches of trees, the fragments of the woods ; then flame and Are were tised, as soon as they were known ; and lastly was discovered the strength of iron and brass. But the use of brass was known earlier than Ikat of iron ;^ inasmuch as its substance is more easy to work, and its abundance greater.^ With brass they turned up the soil of the earth ; and with brass they excited the tumults of war, and inflicted deep wounds, and took away the cattle and lands of their neighbours; for every thing unarmed and defenceless easily surrendered to those that were armed. Then gradu- ally came forth the sword of steel, and the form of the brazen pruning- hook was turned into contempt. With iron they began to cleave the ground, and the contests of doubtful war- fare were made equal.

And it appears that man mounted armed upon the back of a horse, and guided it with reins, and exerted his right hand to fight, before he tried the hazards of war in a two-horsed chariot. It also doubtless occurred earlier to yoke two horses than four, or than to mount in full armour on chariots equipped with scythes. In process of time the Carthaginians taught fierce elephants,^ with towers on their backs, and with snake- like proboscis, to endure the wounds of war, and to throw vast

* Bursts forth from contempt.] Ver. 1277. See ver. 831. ^

' Its abundance greater.] Ver. 1283. Copia nuyor. Viz. in those

early times.

XakKif ilpyd^ovTOt fikXaQ S' ovk Iffice ffidtipog. Hes. Op. et D. 150. ' Elephants.] Ver. 1301. Bovea Lticaa. Elephants were so called

by the Komans because they first saw them in Lucania, in the war

with Pyrrhus. Plin. H. N. viii. 6, 6. — With snake-like proboscis.]

Anffuimanos, See ii. 538.

240 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 1303—1345.

martial battalions into confusion. Thns sad discord produced one invention after another, to spread terror in battle among the tribes of men, and added dsolj increase to the horrors of contention.

They tried bulls, also, in the business of war, and endea- voured to impel fierce boars against the enemy. The Parthi- ans, too, sent strong lions before them, with armed keepers and daring guides, to goyem them and hold them in chaiiis. But such attempts were in vain ; for the savage beasts, heated with tumultuous slaughter, and shaking their terrible manes on every side, disordcared €Ul troops without distinction. Nor could the riders soothe the spirits of their horses, which were alarmed at the roaring of the lions, and turn them with the reins against the enemy. The lions, in their rage, threw themselves with leaps among the soldiers in every part ; they flew at the faces of those who came against them, and seized on others from behind unawares, and, clasping them round about, threw them to the earth sinking under wounds, clinging to them with their strong teeth and hooked talons. The bulls tossed their own people, and trampled them under foot ; they gored with their horns the sides of the horses, and their bellies underneath, and tore up the earth with alarming fury. But the boars killed their own friends with strong tusks, staining, in their rage, the broken darts with their blood, and spread promiscuous destruction among cavalry and infantry. For though the horses, leaping aside, shunned the fierce attacks of their teeth, or, rearing up, pawed the air with their feet, t/et they struggled to no purpose ; since you might have seen them sink down hamstrung, and cover the earth with a heavy fall. Whatever beasts they thought suffi- ciently tame at home, they saw, in the heat of action, mad- dened with wounds, cries, flight, terror, and tumult. Nor could they recall any portion of them to order; for all the different kinds of beasts scattered themselves abroad ; as ele- phants even now, when imperfectly inured to weapons, flee hither and thither, after having inflicted much cruel damage on their masters.

Thus, and with these views, it is possible that they might act. But I am scarcely inclined to thinh that they could not originally foresee, and consider in their minds, how general and calamitous an evil such warfare would prove to succeeding

B. V. 1346-1375. LUCRETIUS. 241

times. But they were willing to adopt ' this practice, not so much with the hope of conquering, as to cause annoyance to the enemy ; and men who distrusted their numbers, and were without efficient arms, naturally grew desperate, and were ready to perish themselves, if they might hut destroy their op- ponents.

The garment of skins, fastened together, existed before the woven dress ; the woven succeeded the discovery of iron ; for by iron weaving is performed. Nor, indeed, of any other mate^ rial can instruments of such smoothness as treadles, spindles, shuttles, and rattling yarn-beams, be produced.

And nature obliged men to work in wool before women ; for all the male sex far excel in art, and are much more inge- nious than the female. This state of things continued until the sturdy husbandmen made it a reproach to the workers in wool; making them consent to resign it to the hands of women, and themselves to endure hard labour together vjith the tillers of the ground, and strengthen their limbs and hands with severe toil.

But of sowing and planting,^ and of grafting, nature, the great producer of all things, was herself the first example and origin. For berries and acorns that fell from the trees, ex- hibited, in the proper season, a crop of seedlings underneath ; from observing which they also ventured to intrust slips to the boughs, and to plant young stocks throughout the fields.

They then tried different methods of tilling the kindly soil, and saw wild fruits become improved in their lands by being cherished and indulgently cultivated. And they com- pelled the woods to withdraw daily farther up the mountains, and to give room below for tillage ; so that they might have meadows, lakes, rivulets, corn-fields, and rich vineyards throughout the hills and plains, and that a green tract of olives, marking the ground, might run between other trees, stretching far over the heights, and valleys, and plains ; as you now see all gardens distinguished with varied beauty,

* But they were willing to adopt, 4^''.] Ver. 1346. Three verses which precede this, and which are evidently spurious or misplaced, I have omitted in the translation. Lachmann has ejected them from his text.

* But of sowing and planting.] Ver, 1360. At—satumis Satio means both sowing and planting. Grafting may be considered of more recent date than Lucretius makes it.

242 LUCRETIUS. B. V. 1376—1403.

which, intersected with rows of dulcet apples, men lay out and adorn, and which they keep planted around with other fruit trees.

But to imitate with the mouth the liquid voices of birds ' was practised long before men could play melodious tunes, and delight the ear ivith music. The whistling of the zephyr through the empty reeds first taught the rustics to blow through hollow stalks. Then by degrees they learned the sweet plaintive notes, which the pipe, pressed by the fingers of the players, pours forth ; the pipe, which is now found through all the pathless groves, and woods, and glades, through the solitary haunts, and divine resting-places,^ of the shepherds.

Thus time by degrees suggests every discovery, and skill evolves it into the regions of light and fame.

These melodies softened the hearts of those swains, and de- lighted them when they were satisfied with food ; for then every thing affords pleasure.

Oftentimes, therefore, stretched upon the soft grass, near a rivulet of water, under the boughs of a.high tree, they socially, though with no great wealth, gratified their senses with pleasure, especially when the weather smiled upon them, and the seasons of the year painted the green herbage with flowers. Then jests, and pleasant talk, and agreeable laughter, were wont to be enjoyed; for then the rustic muse had full vigour and influence. Then sportive gaiety prompted them to deck their heads and shoulders with garlands of flowers and leaves, and to stand forth in irregular dances, moving their limbs stiffly, and to stamp on mother earth with heavy foot ; whence arose smiles and jocund laughter, because all these exhibitions had then greater effect, as being new and wonderful. Hence

* But to imitate — voices of birds, ^c] Ver. 1378. He says that the idea of music was taken from the smging of birds, and that of wind instruments from the whistling of the wind among reeds.

* Divine resting-places.] Ver. 1386. Otia dia. I know not whether Lucretius calls the haunts of the shepherds dia because they were supposed to be frequented by Fauns and other deities, or because they were «w& dio; or whether he uses the epithet in some other sense. The commentators give no opinion, except that Creech, in his paraphrase, introduces Pastores otio ahundantes, as if he took diua for abundant, numerous. But this acceptation I should be unwilling to adopt.

B. V. 1404—1432. LUCRETIUS. 243

to produce various modulations of voice, and to weave tunes, and to run over the reeds with compressed lips, were compensations for want of sleep, as they watched during the night From whom, also, the men of the present day, wakeful in nocturnal orgies^ have received and maintain the same practices,^ and have learned to preserve regularity of numbers ; and yet they do not, even now, enjoy thejr amusement with greater delight than that which the sylvan sons of earth then experienced.

For that gratification which is present, if we have pre- viously known nothing more agreeable, delights us pre-emi- nently, and seems to be superior to every thing else; but any thing better, which is discovered afterwards, blunts and alters our feelings as to all we enjoyed before. Thus dislike of acorns came upon mankind; thus those ancient beds, formed of grass and leaves, were abandoned. Skins, too, and the savage drefes, fell into contempt ; a dress of which I can imagine the discovery to have excited such envy,^ that he who first wore it, pbssihly died from a treacherous-combination against him ; and that his garment, being torn, with much bloodshed, among those ivho slew him, was at last spoiled, and rendered incapable of being used.

In those days skins, in these gold and purple, disturb the life of men with cares, and harass it with war. In which re- gard, as I think, blame has fallen far more justly on us than on them. For cold tormented the uncovered children of earth, ivhen they were without skins ; but to be destitute of a purple garment, adorned with gold and cumbrous figures, causes no in- convenience to us, provided that we have, instead of it, a com- mon dress that may defend tis against the weather. The human race, accordingly, labour perpetually in vain and to no purpose, and consume their life in empty cares; evidently because they do not know what is the proper limit to acquisi- tion, and how far real pleasure extends : and this ignorance

^ Wakeful in nocturnal orgies, have received and maintain the same J^rac^^ces.] Ver. 1407. Undeetiam vigiles nunc hcecaccepta tuentur. In these words, as in those immediately preceding, where Lucretius speaks of ** compensations for want of sleep," I have followed Wake- field's opinion of the sense. Lambinus and Creech thought that men unable to sleep from care or disease were intended.

^ The discovery to have excited such envy.] Ver. 1418. Invidia tali repcrtam.

R 2

244 LUCRETIUS. b. v. 1433—1456.

has gradually carried them into a sea of evils, and thorough- ly aroused the mighty tumults of war.

But the wakeful and untiring sun and moon, that illumine with their light the vast revolving region of the heaven, taught mankind that the seasons of the year proceed, and that every thing is carried on, by a certain law and in a certain order.

T^ey afterwards passed their lives defended with strong fortresses, and the earth, divided and marked out^ was culti- vated and peopled.

The sea was next covered with ships for the sake of per- fumes.^ Men had auxiliaries and allies, with settled treaties. The poets now began to hand down great deeds in their poems; letters had only a short time before been discovered. Hence our age cannot trace what previously occurred, except so far as reason gives indications.

Ships, and the culture of land, walls of cities, jaws, arms, roads, garments, and other things of this kind ; all the bless- ings and all the delights of life ; poems, pictures, and artfully- wrought statues, improving use,^ and the experience of the active mind, proceeding step by step, taught all mankind gradually to adopt.

Thus time by degrees suggests every discovery, and skill evolves it into the regions of light and celebrity. Thus, in the various arts, we see that different inventions proceed from different minds, until they reach the highest point of excel- lence,

^ For the sake of perfumes.] Ver. 1441. Turn mare velivolis (na- vibus sc.) florebat propter odores. This is the reading of Wake- field and his followers, as if trading voyages were made for nothing hut perfumes. Lamhinus, and his clients, read Turn mare velivolum florebat navibu* pandit, Lachmann corrects, fiom conjecture, Turn mare velivolis florebat pumnbuSy et res, ^c.

' Improving use.] Ver. 1450. PoUttis ustis. " Polibxts usua is that which either has polish or produces it." Wakefield,

BOOK VI.

ARGUMENT.

Lucretius commences with a panegyric on Alliens, as the inventress and promoter of useful and elegant arts, and especially as the birth-place of Epicurus, whom he again extols, ver. 1 — 42. He then proceeds to treat of meteoric appearances in the heavens, and, lest men shotdd be terrified at thunder, as proceeding from Jupiter, asserts that it arises entirely from natural causes, yer. 43—95. It is produced by the collision, or disruption, or corrasion of clouds, ver. 96 — 120 ; or from other causes, ver. 121 — 159. Lightning, he says, is fire forced out of clouds, either by their collision, or by the force of winds, ver. 160—218. Of the nature and origin of the thunderbolt, ver. 219 — 322. Of its swiftness, and that of lightning, and why storms are more prevalent at the equinoxes, ver. 323 — 378. Ri- dicule of those who attribute the origin and direction of storms to the gods, ver. 379 — 422. Of the prester, or water-spout, ver. 423 — 450. Of the production of clouds, ver. 451 — 494. Of rain, the rain-bow, and other natural phasnomena, ver. 495 — 535. Of earthquakes, ver. 536 — 607. Of the sea, and why it grows no larger, ver. 608 — 639. Of the fires of -Etna, ver. 640—712. Of the Nile, and its exundations, ver. 713—738. Of the lake Avemus, and the neighbouring region, with remarks on other matters, ver. 739 — 840. Of the temperature of water in wells, and of cer- tain remarkable springs, ver. 841—906. Of the magnet, and the causes why iron is attracted towards it, illustrated by many remarks on the na- ture and influence of atoms, and of different substances, one upon another, ver. 907—1088. Of the origin and cause of diseases, ver. 1089—1136 ; with a full description of the plague that depopulated Athens during the Peloponnesian war, ver. 1137 — 1285.

246 LUCRETIUS. B. Ti. 1—32.

In early days, Athens, of illustrious name, first communi- cated to suffering mortals the method of producing corn ; Athens, also, first improved life, and established laws ; Athens, moreover, first afforded sweet consolations of existence, when she gave birth to that pre-eminent man, endowed with such mighty genius, who once poured forth instrtiction on all siib- Jects from his truth-speaking mouth ; and whose fame, spread abroad of old on account of his discoveries, is raised, since his death, even to the skies.

For when he observed that almost all things, which neces- sity requires for subsistence, and by which mankind may render life free from care,' are already prepared for th^m hy nature, yet saw that men may abound in wealth, may he crowned with honour and applause, and may have pride in the good fame of their children, but that, notwithstanding, there may be griefs in the heart of each at home, and each may disquiet life with unhappy querulousness of mind, he understood, at once, the cause which compels them to lament with such troublesome complaints ; he perceived that the vessel itself was in fault, and that all good things which were collected and brought into it from abroad, were spoiled by its imperfection within ; he was convinced of this, partly because he saw that it was unsound and perforated, so that it could never by any means be filled; and partly because he found that it contami- nated with an offensive taste, as it were, all things that it had received within it. He therefore purged the minds of men with the words of truth, and set bounds to desire and fear ; he explained what is the chief good at which we all aim, and showed the way, in a narrow track, by which we may in a straight course arrive at it. And he taught what evil pre- vails ^\QTj where in human affairs, which flows and arises variously, either from casual accident, or from necessity, ac- cording as nature has appointed ; and he showed from what portals each ought to be met,^ and proved that mankind re-

* Render life free from care.] Ver. 11. Vitam consistere tiUam. " Consistere is used in an extraordinary sense, for constituere et red- dere." Turneb. Advers. ii. 12, cited by Havercamp.

* From what portals each ought to be met.] Ver. 32. Quihtis e portis occurri quoique deceret. ** A metaphor from military affairs, in allusion to gates of cities or camps, from which a sally is made, or resistance offered, against the enenjy." Lamhinus,

B. VI. 33— 50. LUCRETIUS. 247

volve in their breasts, for the most part unnecessarily, the sorrowful tumults of care. For as children tremble,* and fear every thing in thick darkness, so we, in the light, fear sometimes things which are not more to be feared than those which children dread, and imagine about to happen, in the dark. This terror of the mind, therefore, it is not the rays of the sun, or the bright arrows of day, that must dispel, but the contemplation of nature and the exercise of reason. For which cause, I shall more carefully proceed to complete, with some further observations, the undertaking which I have in hand.

And since I have shown that the regions of the world are mortal, and that the heaven consists of substance generated and perishable, and that whatever things are produced, and must necessarily be produced, within it, are for the most part necessarily dissolved ; attend now to what further remains to be said ; since his friends once more exhort the charioteer to ' ascend his stately chariot,"^ testifying-by-their-applause, that all things which before were adverse to his course, are now altered through their gentle favour.

But the phcenomena which men observe^ to occur in the

* For as children tremble, §*c.] Ver. 35. See ii. 55 ; iii. 87. ' Since — to ascend his stately chariot, 4r<y.] Ver. 47.

Quandoquidem semel insienem conscendere currum Vectorem exhortant plaudendo, ut obvia cursu Quae fuerint, sint placato conversa favore.

This is a locus vexatissimus, in which Forbiger has been daring enough to depart from the text of Wakefield, and to offer conjectures of his own. " The meaning is evidently,'* says he, " I will proceed to sing of the nature of things, since I have once begun, and have, with the encouragement of my reader, so far proceeded success- fully ; the metaphor being taken from the chariot-races in the Circus Maximus." Lambinus and Creech have,

Quandoc[uidem semel insignem conscendere currum Vincendi spes hortata est, atque obvia cursu Quae fuerant, sunt placato conversa furore.

That is, " Since the hone of victory has once prompted me to mount my stately chariot, ana since aU things which had been opposed to my course, are now altered, aU violence being allayed." But the variations in the manuscripts are such^ that to tell whose con- jecture approaches nearest to what Lucretius wrote, is impossible. Lachmann has another conjecture, which it is not worth while to transcribe. ' But the phisnomena which men observe, S^c,'] Ver. 50. Cetera,

248 LUCRETIUS. B. Ti. 61-73.

earth and the heavens, when, as often happens, they are per- plexed with fearful thoughts, overawe their minds with a <^ead of the gods, and humble and depress them to the earth ; for ignorance of natural causes obliges them to refer all things to the power of the divinities, and to resign the dominion of the world to them; because of these eflFects they can by no means see the origin, and accordmgli/ suppose that they are produced by divine influence. For if those who have fairly understood that the gods pass a life free from care, neverthe- less wonder, meanwhile, how things can severally be carried on, especially in those matters which are seen in the ethereal regions above, owr heads, they are* carried back again to their old notions of religion, and set over themselves cruel tyrants whom they unhappily believe able to do all things ; being themselves ignorant what can and what cannot be done ; and by what means limited power, and a deeply fixed boundary, is assigned to every thing. On which account, through their own blind reasoning, they are led away more and more into error.

Such fancies unless you expel from your mind, and put far from you unworthy thoughts of the gods,* and cease to har- bour notions inconsistent with their tranquillity, the sacred power of the divinities will often, cw being offended by you,* obstruct your peace ;^ not that the supreme majesty of the dei- ties can really be violated, so that it should seek, through anger, to inflict severe punishment ; but because you yourself, when

qua fieri in terris caeloque ttietUur mortales, Creech interprets cetera by reliqtM; I take it as a conjunction, the same as ctBterum,

* Put far from you unworthy thoughts of the gods.] Ver. 68. Longique remittis ens indigna putare, ** Remittis r6 putare." Wake- field.

* Sacred power of the divinities — ^ — offended by you.] Ver. 70. DMataper te — numina sancta. Lambinus, after suggesting delibrata and delimata, says that he does not altogether disapprove of delibata^ if it be considered as a metaphor from wine, quod libando deminutum esse intelligitur, Havercamp quotes from Turnebus, Adv. ii. 12, the expositions, contamifiata, diminuta, violata, which I have adopted. Turnebus adduces from the Auctor ad Herenn. Delibans insitam virtutem; to which Havercamp adds from Com. Nepos, (Dat. 6y) ne — animi delibarentur militum, where the common editions read debili- tarentur,

* Will — obstruct your peace.] Ver. 71. Tibi — obertmt "That is, will be before your eyesj and, as if threatening you, will exhibit terrible faces from the regions of heaven." Wakefield, Comp. i. 65.

B. VI. 74—96. LUCRETIUS. 249

you might he calm in tranquil peace, will suppose that ike gods cherish vast floods of wrath against you ; nor will you ap- proach the temples of the deities with a heart at ease, nor be able to admit into your mind, with placid serenity of contem- plation, those images which are borne from the sacred persons of the gods,^ as indications of their divine beauty, into the breasts of mankind.

^ Hence you may conceive what sort of life would follow such a belief. And although many observations have been made by me, to the end that true wisdom may repel such a life far from us, many more still remain to be added, and to be recommended by smooth verse ; and the nature of things above us,^ and of the heaven, is to be understood. Tempests, and bright lightnings, are to be sung ; their nature is to be told, and from what cause they pursue their course; lest, having foolishly divided the heaven into parts,^ you should be anxious as to the quarter from which the flying flame may come, or to what region it may betake itself; and tremble to think how it penetrates through walled enclosures, and how, having exercised its power, it extricates itself from them. Of which phaenomena the multitude can by no means see the causes, and think that they are accomplished by supernatural power.

Thou, O skilful muse Calliope, solace of men, and pleasure of gods, mark out my path for me, as I run to the white goal at the end of the course,* that, under thy guidance, I may at- tain a crown with distinguished applause.

In the flrst place, the blue skies are convulsed with thun-

' Images— from the sacred persons of the gods.] Ver. 76. Corpore qtuB aancto ainmlacra feruntur. He here speaks of the gods, not as creatures of the imagination, but as having a certain existence.

* Nature of things above us.] Ver. 83. Ratio 8upev4m, ** Supera, id est, TdjitTtiapaf mitelligendum esse puto." FtAer, With whom Wakefield concurs.

' Having foolishly divided the heaven into parts.] Ver. 86. *^This refers to the practice of the augurs and £trurians, of which Cicero speaks in his second book De IHbinationef observing that the Etrurians divided the heaven into sixteen parts, S^c.'* Lambinua.

* To the white goal at the end of the coiurse.l Ver. 92. PraBscripta ad Candida callis, *' Candida calliSf as vera and ardtta ffia'i, strata vi- arum, and a hundred other similar phrases in Lucretius and other authors. Lambinus has aptly quoted Seneca, Epist. cviii.^ hane quam nunc in Circo cretam vocamus, calcem antigui voeabant ; viz. be- cause the goal was covered over with chalk or lime." Wakefield,

250 LUCRETIUS. b. vi. 97— 12o.

der, because the clouds in the air, as they fly along on high, when winds are opposed to each other, meet together in collision. For in a clear part of the sky no noise takes place. But the more densely the clouds are collected, in any quarter whatso- ever, with 80 much louder a noise does the thunder frequently proceed from that quarter.

The clouds, too, it is to be observed, can neither be of so dense a substance as stones and wood are ; nor again, of so subtle a consistence as flying mists and smoke are. For, in the one case, they would either fall, being brought down by their own dead weight, or, in the other, they would, like smoke, be unable to keep together, or to retain within them the cold snows and showers of hail.

Clouds also produce a sound, ^ b^ certain motions, athwart the regions of the open sky, as canvass, stretched over the large theatres, makes a noise when it is tossed about among the posts and beams. Sometimes a cloud is ruffled and torn in pieces by boisterous winds, and then imitates the rattling noise of paper; for that kind ofcrachling you may also ob- serve in thunder. Or it sounds as when the winds shake with their blasts a hanging garment, or flying sheets of parch- ment, and rattle them in the air.

It sometimes happens, moreover, that clouds cannot so much come into collision front to front, as meet side to side, rubbing their masses slowly against one another, with various movements ; whence that dry hind of sound, which you may sometimes observe, strikes upon the ear, and which is pro- tracted for some time, until the clouds have escaped from the confined space.

Thus too, not unfrequently, all things around, convulsed with violent thunder, seem to tremble, and the mighty walls of the capacious world appear at once to have started and burst asunder ; and this happens when a collected body of strong wind has suddenly involved itself within a cloud, and, being shut up there, forces the cloud, (as the whirling air

* C^ticb also produce a sound, 4f^.] Ver. 108. Dant etiam sonitumt &c. Lucretius^ and those of his school, had certainly extravagant notions respectmg clouds. In this passage he expresses his opinion that a cloua may make a noise like canvass flapping or splitting, and, a little below, (ver. 150, seg.,) says that a cloud may be burned up, and produce a crackling, like leaves of laurel. Yet he seems in general to have thought that clouds were mists : see ver. 495, »eq.

B. VI. 126—159. LUCRETIUS. 251

\ ,

stretches it more and more in all directions,) to become hollow, but with a thick crust round the cavity. Afterwards, when the strong force and spirit of the wind within has fermented, it at length, being emitted from confinement, gives a crack, with a frightfully-crashing sound. Nor is this surprising, when a small bladder, filled with air, often produces, if sud- denly burst, a htid sound of a similar kind.

There is also another reason why the winds, when they blow among the cloudy, may produce a sound ; for we often see branched and rough clouds carried about in the air in various directions. So that such a noise may arise in the clouds as when the north-west gales blow through a thick wood, and the leaves make a rustling and the boughs crackle.

It happens, likewise, at times, that the vehement force of a^ strong blast tears a cloud asunder, cleaving it through with a straight-forward assault. For what the wind may effect in the sky, manifest experience demonstrates on the earth, where, though it is less violent, it often overthrows and tears up lofty woods from their lowest roots.

There are also waves in the clouds, which, breaking hea- vily, make a murmuring noise ; such as is likewise excited in deep rivers, and in the vast sea, when it is broken and rages with the tide.

It occurs, moreover, that when the burning violence of lightning passes from one cloud into another, the second cloud,^ if it receives the fire into a large body of moisture, imme- diately extinguishes it with a loud noise ; as hot iron, taken from a glowing furnace, hisses when we plunge it into the cold water standing near.

Further, if a cloud, which is mo|iB dry than ordinary, re- ceives the lightning, itis&X once set on fire, and scorched up with a loud sound ; such as is heard if a flame, on any occa- sion, spreads over hills covered with laurel, burning it up with great fury, and impelled by a storm of wind. Nor does any substance burn with a more startling sound, as the flame crackles anu>ng its boughs, than the Delphic laurel of Phoebus.

In addition, we may observe that a great crashing of ice, and fall of hail, among the vast clouds in the sky, frequently produce a loud sound. For masses of cloud, closely con- densed, and mixed with hail, are, when the wind compresses them, shattered and broken to pieces.

252 LUCRETIUS. e. vi. 160-184.

It lightens, also, when the clouds, by their collision, have struck out numerous atoms of fire ; just as if a stone strikes another stone, or a piece of iron ; for then, in like manner, a light bursts forth, and scatters abroad bright sparks of fire.

But it always happens that we hear l^e sound of the thun- der some time after we perceive it lighten,* because objects, which affect the hearing, always come more slowly to the ears, than those, which affect the sight, arrive at the eye. This you may easily understand from the following instance. If you observe a man at a distance cutting down the trunk of a tree with an axe, you will see the stroke itself before the noise of the stroke makes any sound in the air. So, too, we see the lightning before we hear the thunder, which, however, is emitted at the same time with the flash, and produced from the same collision of the clouds.

Clouds, likewise, sometimes tinge the parts around with swiftly-diffused light, and the storm gleams with tremulous ardour, from the following cause : when wind has penetrated a cloud, and, rolling about within it, has made the cloud (as I showed above) become hollow in the middle, and condensed round about, it acquires heat by its own activity, as you see all bodies glow when made warm by motion ; and a ball of lead, from being whirled ^ through a long space, even melts. This hot wind, accordingly, when it has burst a dark cloud, suddenly scatters atoms of heat, which are, as it were, driven but by its violence, and which cause the vibrating gleams of the lightning. Then follows the noise, which affects the ear more slowly than the beams which come to our eyes^ strike

* But — we hear the sound of the thunder some time after we perceive it lighten, 4r^.] Ver. 164. " The flash of lightning succeeds the noise of the thunder, but is perceit^ed before it, because the sense of seeing is quicker than that of hearing." Aristotle^ Meteor, b. ii. "The true reason is, that the appearances of visible objects are always ready for the sense ; but with sounds it is otherwise ; for unless bodies are struck or dashed together no sound is produced." Faber.

* From being whirled.] Ver. 179. Glansetiam Umgo cursu volvunda liquescit. "Volvunda, volubilis, vel dum vol vitur." Lambinus.

' Bcame which come to our eyes.] Ver. 184. Quat perveniunt ocu- lorum ad limina nostra. The limina is Wakefield's, and Lachmann calls him ineptiarum amator for adopting it. All other editions, ex- cept Forbiger's and Eichstadt's, have lumina. Oculorum lumina occurs iv. 826, 837; vi. 1180. Lambinus read qutB perveniunt oculos ad lumina nostros^ i. e. "lumina quae ad nostros oculos perveniunt." But oculorum lumina is much to be preferred.

B. VI. 185-218. LUCRETIUS. 253

them. This, you will understand, takes place when the clouds are condensed, and when they are piled, at the same time, high above one another, with extraordinary effect.*

And do not be misled by the circumstance^ that we, from below, see more plainly how broad the clouds are, than how high they are built up. For observe their appearance, when the winds will carry these clouds, resembling great mountains, along through the air ; or when you shall see, on the sides of high hills, some clouds piled upon others, and those placed in the upper region, while the winds are buried in repose, press- ing down those in the lower ; and you will then be able to comprehend their vastness of bulk, and observe the caverns within them, which are formed as it were of hanging rocks ; and when the winds, at the rising of a tempest, have filled them, the winds themselves, being thus confined within the clouds, complain with a loud murmuring, and utter , threats like wild beasts in dens. Sometimes they send their roarings in one direction, and sometimes in another, through the clouds, and, seeking an outlet, turn themselves about, and roll to- gether atoms of fire from the cloudy-masses ; and thus they collect many igneous particles, and whirl about the flames within as in hollow furnaces, until, the cloud having burst, they dart forth with a flash.

From this cause, also, it happens, that that gleaming golden colour of liquid fire flies down upon the earth ; inasmuch as the clouds themselves must of necessity contain many atoms of fire ; as, when they are without any moisture, their colour is generally fiery and shining. For they must receive many igneous particles from the light of the sun, so that they na- turally look red, and send forth fire. When, therefore, the wind, driving them along, has thrust, compressed, and con- densed them into one place, they pour forth the atoms of fire, which are squeezed out, and which cause the colour of flame to shine through the shy.

It likewise lightens when the clouds in heaven are rare- fied. For when the wind gently divides and attenuates them as they pass, those atoms, which cause the lightning, must fall even in spite of them ; and then it lightens without any great terror, or sounds, or commotion.

» With extraordinary effect.] Ver. 186. Impete miro. ** That is, *mird celeritate, or miro impetu,'* Lamhinua, Creech would read tigmine.

254 LUCRETIUS. b. vi. 219—242.

Of what nature, moreover,* the lightning consists, its strokes, and the signs and marks which are barnt into objects by its fire, and which exhale a strong scent of sulphur, sufficiently indicate. For these are tokens of fire, and not of wind or rain.

Besides, lightnings often set on fire the roofs of houses, and revel with a swift fiame throughout houses themselves. For nature has formed this attenuated fire, you may be sure,^ of the most minute particles of flame, and with the subtlest mo- tions and atoms, so that nothing whatever can resist it. Pow- erful lightning, indeed, passes through the walls of houses like sounds and voices ; it passes through stones and brass, and melts brass and gold in a moment. It causes wine, also, to flow out suddenly from vessels which still remain entire ; because, as is evident, its heat, at its contact, easily relaxes and expands all the earthen-substance of the vessel ;^ so that, penetrating into the liquid itself, it actively separates and dis- pels the atoms of the wine ; agitating it with its flashing heat to a degree which the warmth of the sun seems unable to pro- duce in an age ; so much more active and forcible is this in- fluence of lightning.

How these lightnings are generated, and become possessed of such force, that they can split towers with a stroke, overturn houses, tear away beams and planks, demolish and scatter abroad the monuments of heroes, deprive men of life, destroy

' Moreover.] Ver. 219. Qtiod superest " Proinde." Creech. - For nature has formed this attenuated fire, you may be sure, 4fc.] Ver. 225.

Hunc tibi subtilem cum primis ignibus ignem Constituit natura minutis motibus atque Corporibus —

which must be construed, apparently, thus : Hunc subtilem ignem fia- tura constituit (ex) ignibus cum-primis minutis ^ minutis being under- stood also with motibus and corporibus. But the reading is, in truth, absurd. Lambinus edited mohilibusque corporibus^ which Lachmann has had the good sense to replace.

' All the earthen-substance of the vessel.] Ver. 232. Omnia — late- ramina vasi. Wakefield takes lateramiria for latera, sides. But what analogy shall be found to support him? Scheller, in his Lexicon, says that lateramen is " probably from an obsolete verb, latero^ -are^ from later f i. e. facere ex lateribus,** and so may signify "any thing made of tiles ; lateramina vasis, Lucret. vi. 232, probably earthenware. ' ' Forbiger justly observes that it is a aira^ Xeyofievov,

B. VI. 243—274. LUCRETIUS. 255

whole herds of cattle at once ; and with what power they can effect all other things of this kind, I will now proceed to ex- plain, nor will I delay you longer with promises.^

It must be admitted that lightnings are produced from clouds that are dense, and piled high in the air; for none are ever emitted from a clear sky, or from clouds that are but thinly collected. For doubtless manifest observation shows this to be the case ; because, at the time when thunder is heard^ the clouds are condensed from all sides through the whole atmo- sphere, so that we might suppose all the darkness to have left Acheron, and to have filled the immense vault of heaven ; so formidably, when the dire gloom of storms has collected, and when the tempest begins to forge its thunderbolts, does the face of black terror impend over the earth from above.

Over the sea, too, very frequently, a black stormy cloud, like a flood of pitch flowing down from heaven, so terribly descends upon the waters, and rolls onward in such thick darkness, and draws with it a black tempest so pregnant with thunder and hurricanes, (being charged,too, to the utmost with fire and wind,) that even men upon land shudder and seek shelter in their houses. Thus, therefore, we must believe that tempestuous-clouds rise high above our heads ; for neither could clouds overwhelm the earth with such thick darkness, (the sun being wholly obscured,) unless they were built up, numbers- upon numbers, to a great height ; nor could they, when descending in rain, deluge the earth with such vast showers, as to make the rivers overflow, and the plains a sheet of water, unless the atmosphere contained clouds ranged high over one another.

In the air, therefore, at the time of storms, all parts of the clouds are replete with wind and fire ; and thus thunders and lightnings are produced. For I have shown above that the hollow clouds must contain many atoms of heat ; and they must also of necessity receive many from the rays and warmth of tlie sun.2 Thus, when the same wind, which has collected the clouds by chance into any one place, has elicited /row* them

^ Delay you longer with promises.] Ver. 245. Neque te in pro- missis plura morabor. He has already said so much, that«there ap- pears to be no cause for this observation.

^ Rays and warmth of the sun. J Ver. 273. Ex solis radiia ardoreque

eoi-um.

256 LUCRETIUS. b. n. 275—298.

ihanj atoms of heat, and with that heat has mingled itself, the vortex of windy compressed within the cloud, whirls itself about in it, and sharpens the lightning, as in a hot furnace, within its depths. For this wind is heated in two ways ; it both grows warm by its own motion, and by the contact of fire. Then, when the substance of the wind has grown hot of itself, or the strong influence of fire has excited it, the lightning, being ripe as it were, bursts suddenly through the cloud, and the fiery gleam is roused and driven forth, ^ illumining all places with vibrating light; close upon which follows the awful crash 2 of thunder ^ so that the regions of heaven above seem suddenly to be disruptured, and to totter. Tremor then violently pervades the earth, and murmurs run along the lofty skies ; for almost all the stormy air then trembles with the shock, and loud noises are sent forth ; after which concus- sion follows heavy and abundant rain, so that the whole sky seems to be turned into showers, and thus, falling precipitately, to excite the waters to a new deluge.^ So mighty a sound issues forth from the displosion of a cloud, and from a tempest of wind, when the lightning flies abroad with its burning impetus. Sometimes, too,* the vehement force of the wind falls upon a dense cloud externally, striking on its summit just ripe for explosion;^ and, when it has burst through it, there flies out instantly the fiery vortex® which we, in our native language,

* Is roused and driven forth.] Ver. 283, 4. Fertur — percitus.

* Close upon which follows the awful crash, ^c] Ver. 285. Qtiem gravis insequitur aonituSy S^c,

Follows the loosen 'd aggravated roar,

Enlarging, deep'ning, mingling ; peal on peal

Crush'd norrible ; convulsmg heaven and earth. Thomson.

* To excite the water» to a new deluge.] Ver. 292. Ad diluviem revocare, ** To call together anew, as it were, the whole body of rain, in order to spread a second deluge over the earth." Wakejfield,

* Sometimes, too, §*c.] Ver. 295. Est etiam^ qtiom. ^^ Est qtmm is est qtiandoj as in Greek i<mv orSf equivalent to aliquando and intei- dum . ' ' Lamhinus,

* On its summit just ripe for explosion,'] Ver. 296. Maiuro a cul- mine. This is Wakefield's reading, and is rendered according to his interpretation. Lambinus, whom Lachmann follows, reads fnaturo fulmine^ i, e. the lightning being ripe for eruption.

* Fiery vortex.] Ver. 297. Iffneus — Vortex, "He very properly adds igneus, for if it were a vortex without fire, bursting from a dis- ruptured cloud, it would not be fulmen^ but what in Greek is called

B. VI. 298—321. LUCRETIUS. 257

call lightning. And this is not confined to one point^only^ but extends to other parts, wheresoever the force of the vnnd has difiTused itself.

It happens at times, also, that a furious wind, though issu- ing forth without fire, yet ignites as it goes, in a long space, and protracted flight ; losing, too, in its course, some of those larger atoms which cannot penetrate through the air equally with the smaller; and collecting from the air itself, as it flies through it, some of those minute particles which, when mixed, generate fire ; almost in the same manner as a ball of lead very frequently grows hot in its course, when, throwing off many atoms of cold, it conceives heat in the atmosphere.

It occurs, moreover, that the force of a mere stroke excites fire w a cloudy when a cold blast of wind, darting forth with- out any fire at aU, has struck upon it; because, as is evident, when the wind has dashed against the cloud with a violent impetus, atoms of heat may flow both from the vnnd itself, and also from that cloudy substance which then receives its impact ; just as fire flies out when we strike a stone with iron ; nor, because the substance of iron is cold^ do those par- ticles of igneous brightness the less, on that account, flow together at the stroke. Thus any substance, likewise, must naturally be kindled by lightning, if it be adapted and dis- posed to take fire. Nor can the substance of the wind be easily supposed to be altogether cold, considering its rapid flight from the parts whence it was so forcibly discharged from above ;^ for though it be not kindled by heat in its

Tv(i><t)Vy or Uve<l>iaQ," Lambinua, By these words the Greeks meant a hurricane^ or perhaps sometimes the wind that produces a water- spout. See Pan. N. H. ii. 48, ^^, Sen. Nat. Qusest. v. 12. It is apparent therefore that Lucretius means a fiery wind or hurricane, but I have thought it better to retain vortex in the English. * Whence it was so forcibly discharged from above.] Ver. 317.

Nee temere omnino plan^ vis frigida venti Esse potest : ex quo tant& vi missa superne est.

Lambinus explains ex ^uo by ex quo tempore^ or ex quo loco, giving this turn to the passage : We can hardl]^* suppose the wind itself to be quite cold wtien it strikes the cloud, if we reflect on the dis- tance from which it came, and the rapidity of its descent. — Creech interprets, ^' cum tanto impetu ^ nubibus emittitur,'' as if he thought that ex qvp might be taken in the sense of dim or propterea quod ; a sense which it will, perhaps, bear.

s

258 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 322—349;

descent before it arrives in these lower regions, it yet comes to them tepid and mixed with warmth.

But the activity and impulse of the lightning are so great as you observe them to be, and the thunderbolts in general fly with so swift a descent, because the force of the wind, when roused, first collects itself fully within the clouds, and makes a great struggle to issue forth. Then, when the cloud can no longer restrain the increased-violence of its efforts, its fury bursts out, and flies, accordingly, with wonderful impe- tus, like darts which are hurled from powerful engines.

Add to this, that it consists of small and smooth particles ; nor is it easy for any body to withstand so subtle a substance ; for it winds and penetrates through the most minute pas- sages. It is not, therefore, checked or delayed* by many obstacles, and it accordingly flies and spreads with the most active swiftness.

Consider, further, that all bodies universally tend down- wards by nature ; and that, when an impulse is added, the swiftness is doubled, and the force aggravated ; so that what- ever obstacles oppose its power, it but the sooner and more vigorously scatters them with a stroke, and pursues its own course.

Besides, that which comes to the earth with a long flight, must acquire speed; which continually increases^ by progres- sion, and augments its vehement impetus, and gives force to its^ stroke. For its velocity causes whatever atoms there are in the body, to be borne forward,^ as it were, straight to one point, combining them all, as they roll on, in that single direction.

Perhaps the lightning, too, may, in its passage through the sky, attract to itself certain particles from the air, which may increase the violence of its strokes.

And it passes through substances that remain uninjured, and penetrates many objects that continue unaltered, because

* It is not, therefore, cheeked or delayed.] Ver. 333. Non — in remorando hcesitat. — Flies and spreads.] Volat labens. It is observ- able that Ltlcretius has here used impetis and impete, in the fifth foot, three times in eight verses.

^ Continually increases.] Ver. 341. Etiam atque etiam crescU, " Semper intenditur." Creech.

' Forward.] Ver. 344. E regione. "Directo." Lambinus.

B. VT. 350—376. LUCRETIUS. 259

the liquid fire finds a passage into 'them by the pores. And many bodies it rends asunder, when the atoms of the lightning strike against the atoms of their substances, where they are held in close contexture.

It moreover easily dissolves brass, and melts gold in a mo- ment, because its substance consists of infinitely small parti- cles, and of atoms that are smooth, which easily penetrate bodies, and, when they have penetrated, suddenly dissolve all connexions, and loosen all bonds.

The vault of heaven,*, studded with glittering stars, and the whole earth round about, are shaken with thunder in autumn, and when the flowery season of spring displays it- self, more than at other times. For in winter heat is deficient ; and in summer the winds fail, and the clouds are not of so dense a consistence. But when the seasons of the year are between the two, all the various causes of thunder then con- cur. For the intermediate-portion of the year^ blends the cold and the heat, both of which are necessary to produce thunder for us ; so that, for the generation of it, there may be a discord in things, and that the atmosphere, raging with heat and wind, may be agitated with a vast tumult. For the be- ginning of summer, and the end of winter, is the season of spring ; from which cause the two dissimilar natures, heat and cold, must at that time jar with one another, and produce a commotion as they mingle. And the termination of summer comes on, meeting the commencement of winter; at a time which is called the season of autumn ; and then, too, violent colds contend with violent heals. These seasons may, there- fore, be styled the War-times op the Year.^ Nor is it wonderful if, at these conjunctures, much thunder- and-light- ning takes place, and if tumultuous tempests are excited in the sky, since there arises disturbance from doubtful strife on

* The vault of heaven, §•<;.] Ver. 857. He now proceeds^ to ex- plain why thunder and lightning are more frequent in spring and autumn than at other seasons.

* Intermediate-portion of the year.] Ver. 864. Fretus ipse anni. " By fretua (the same as /return) annij Lucretius signifies those parts of the year which are' between the cold of winter and the neat of summer; using metaphorically a word which signifies a separation between two portions of the earth." Lambinus.

* War-times of the year.] Ver. 874. BeUa anni.

8 2

260 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 377—400.

either hand ; heat contending on the one side, and winds, mingled with rain, on the other.

This is the way to learn the true nature of igneous light- ning, and to understand by what power it produces every effect ; not to seek for indications of the hidden mind of the gods, by turning over, with futile research, the verses of Etruria,^ superstitiously observing whence the fleeting fire has come, or to which quarter it has turned itself; how it has penetrated through walled apartments, and how, having exer- cised its power, it has extricated itself from them ; or what injury the stroke of a bolt from heaven can inflict.

But if Jupiter, and the other gods, shake the shining re- gions of heaven with terrific thunder, and hurl the lightning whithersoever each has thought fit, why do they not take special care that those, who are guilty of reckless and detest- a^ wickedness,^ may, being struck, inhale the flames of light- ning into their pierced breasts, as a bitter warning to mortals? And why rather is he, who is conscious to himself of no one disgraceful act, involved and overwhelmed, innocent as he is, with flames, and carried off suddenly with a whirlwind and fire from heaven ?

Why, also, if the gods hurl thunderbolts at men, do they ever seek solitary places, and labour in vain? Or do they then exercise their arms, and strengthen their elbows?^ And why, it may be asked, do they suffer the weapon of father Ju- piter to be blunted against the earth ? Or why does he him- self suffer it, and not save it for his enemies ?

Furthermore, why does Jupiter never hurl his bolts over

^ Verses of Etruria.] Ver. 381. Tyrrhena carmina. The Etrus- cans were famous for auguries and divinations, which are said to have been taught them oy a man named Tages, who sprung up among them from the earth. See Cic. de Div. lib^ ii., and Ovid Met. XV. 558. Tlie rules and precepts of their art were written in verse.

* Reckless and detestable wickedness.] Ver. 390. Incautum scelus aversabile. Incautum scelua is wickedness from which men have taken no care to abstain, but which they have committed in defiance of consequences or of the opinion of others.

' Exercise their arms, and strengthen their elbows.] Ver. 396. Rrachia consuescunU firmantgue laeertos. Brachium was properly the arm from the wrist to the elbow ; lacertus was the part from the elbow to the shoulder. We have no words t6 distinguish the two parts.

B. VI. 401^-424. LUCRETIUS. 261

the earth, and scatter abroad thunder, from a clear sky? Does he wait till storms threaten, and, when the clouds have spread over the heaven, come down into their vortex,^ that he may hence aim the strokes of his weapon yrow a nearer point f For what reason, moreover, does he hurl his bolts into the sea? Of what does he accuse the waves, and the watery flood, and the liquid plains ?

Besides, if he wishes us to guard against the blow of the thunder-bolt, why does he hesitate to contrive means that we may see it when it is hurled ? But if he desires to overwhelm us with his lightning unawares, why does he thunder in the quarter from which he aims, so that we may avoid it? Why does he first excite darkness, and noises, and murmurings in the air f

And how can you believe that he hurls his bolts in various directions at the same time?^ Or would you venture to say it never occurs that many strokes take effect at the same time ? But it has often occurred, and must often occur, that as, in a storm, rains and showers fall on many places at once, so many thunder-strokes are discharged on the earth at the same mo- ment.

Moreover, why does he shatter the sacred temples* of the other gods, and his own stately abodes, with his destructive lightning ? And wht/ does he break in pieces the well-wrought statues of the divinities, and rob his own images of honour by violent disfigurement ? And why does he generally aim at high places ? at which it is evident that he does aim, inasmuch as we see most traces of his fire, and see them more distinctly, upon the loftiest mountains.

Furthermore, it is easy to understand from these observa- tions, how those phcsnomena, which the Greeks from their na- ture have called npijor^pfc,^ sent down from above, descend into

* Come down into their vortex.] Ver. 402. In jtttum descendit, jEsttta is tumult, surge. But all editors, except Wakefield and his followers, read ipse in eas turn, gc. nuhes.

* — hurls his holts in various directions at the same time.] Ver. 411. ^' If vou say that Jupiter hurls thunderbolts, you will either afiirm or aeny that he hurls them in several places at the same time. If you afiirm it, how will you make it credible ? If you deny it, experience will refute you." Lambintts.

* Sfiatter the sacred temples.] Ver. 416. Compare ii. 1101, seq,

* npijcrr^pec.] Ver. 424. By 7rpjj<m)p (from irpril^kt, to bum) Lu-

262 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 425—449.

the sea. For it sometimes happens that they drop, like a column let down, from the sky into the ocean ; around which column the waters boil, being excited by violent blasts of wind ; and whatever vessels are then caught in that vortex, are tossed about, and incur the greatest danger. This occurs, when {as is at times the case) the impetuous force of the wind is not able to burst a cloud of which it has taken possession, but bears it down, so that it becomes, by degrees, like a pillar reaching from the heaven into the sea ; as if something were thrust down from above with a hand, and the force of an arm, and stretched into the waters. Hence, when the fury of the wind has burst the cloud, it rushes forth into the sea, and ex- cites an extraordinary agitation among the waves. For the blast descends as a rolling whirlwind, and brings down with it the cloud, tohich is of b. yielding substance, and not easy to be disruptured; and when it has once thrust the heavy body of the cloud into the water of the ocean, it suddenly plunges itself wholly into the waves, and disturbs all the sea with a mighty noise, forcing it to boil tvith agitation.

It happens also, at times, that a vorlex of wind^ involves itself in clouds, gathering up cloudy atoms from the air, and imitates as it were a prester sent down from heaven. When this vortex has descended to the earth, and has burst, it vomits forth, and tempests abroad, ^ the impetuous fury of a whirl- wind. But such a vortex, because it is formed but seldom,

cretius means a hot or fiery wind, involved in a cloud, which it de- pressed towards the earth. If, in its descent, it alighted on the sea, it produced what we call a water-spout ; if it came down on the land, it was a whirlwind. This was the doctrine of Epicurus: see Diog. Laert. x. 104. The irprfffrrjp might, however, burst from the cloud, and scorch or hum any object. ^ Thus, in Xen. Hell. i. 3, 1, it is said that the temple of Minerva in Phocaea was burned, Trpjjarijpoc efiiriffdvTog, i. e. having been, as we should say, struck by lightning. See Plin. N. H. ii. 48 : Quod si majore depressae nubis eruperit specu — turbinem vocant, proxima quaeque prosternentem : — idem ardentior accensusqtte dtim fiirit prester vocatur, amburens contacta pariter et proterens. See also Sen. Nat. Quaest. v. 13.

* It happens also, at times, that a vortex of wind, 4rc.] Ver. 443. In this paragraph Lucretius speaks of wind in a cloud which imi- tates or resembles a prester, but which is not fiery.

' Tempests abroad.] Ver. 447. Procellat,

Part huge of bulk. Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, Tempest the ocean. Milton, P. L. vii. 410.

B. VI. 450-475. LUCRETIUS. 263

and becatcse the hills must obstruct its progress on the land, appears more commonly in the wide prospect and open atmo-, sphere over the sea.

Clouds are formed, when many atoms of a rough and hooked nature, flying in the higher region of the heaven above its, have suddenly come together and combined; atoms which, though attached onlt/ in a slight degree, may yet be held united in a body. These first cause small clouds. to gather; those small clotids then unite * and are combined with one another, and, as they join, swell and are carried along by the winds with such violence^ that at length a raging tempest arises.^

It occurs, too, that the nearer to any part of the sky the elevated summits of hills are, so much the more constantly do they smoke, as it were, with the thick mist of a yellow cloud 5^ because, when the clouds first gather, and before the eye can discern their thin substance, the winds, carrying them off, col- lect them on the highest tops of the hills. Here at last it happens, that, when a larger collection is formed, one dense and solid cloud seems both to show itself and to rise at the same time from the summit of the hills into the clear sky. For the nature of the ground itself, and our own perceptions as we climb high mountains, demonstrate that breezy emi- nences^ are open to the ascent of exhalations.

Besides, that nature raises many atoms of vapour from the whole surface of the ocean, gariQcnts suspended upon the shore testify ; inasmuch as they contract and retain moisture.* ' To augment the clouds, therefore, many atoms seem likely to arise from the motion of the eolt water ; for the nature and action of all waters is similar.

^ Those small clouds then unite.] Ver. ^56, Inde ea comprendunt inter se. Ea, sc. parva nubila,

^ With such violence, that at length a raging tempest arises.] Ver. 458* Uaqite adeo donee tempestat aceva coorta est,

^ Thick mist of a yellow cloud.] Ver. 461. Ftdvee nvbis caligine crassd. Thomson borrows this expression :

A yellow mist Far smoking o'er th' interminable plain. Spring, 193.

* Breezy eminences.] Ver. 468. Loca sursum ventosa,

* Contract and retain moisture.] Ver. 472. Concipiunt kumoris ad- hcBsum, conceive an adhesion of moisture. — Motion of the salt water. *] Ver. 474. Salso momine ponti.

264 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 47&— 496.

Moreover, we observe mists and vapours arise from all rivers, and from the earth itself also, which, exhaled from it like a breath, are in the same manner carried upwards, and cover the sky with obscurity, and, uniting together by de- grees, form clouds high in the air. For the influence ^ of the starry heaven above, too, keeps down the vapours, and, con- densing them, weaves the blue sky over, as it were, with clouds.

It is possible, likewise, that to this assemblage of clouds^ may come seminal-atoms from without the heaven, which may assist to form mists and flying storms. For I have shown that the number of primordial-atoms is countless, and that the extent of the depth of space is infinite ;^ and I have demon- strated, too, with how great celerity seminal-particles fly, and how instantaneously they have power to pass through an in- expressible distance.* It is not, therefore, wonderful if storms and darkness, diffused from above,^ cover, in a short time, such vast mountains, as well as the whole sea and land ; since on every side, exits and entrances are allowed to the elemen- tal atoms, through all the passages of the air, and, as it were, through all the breathing-places of the vast universe around.

Attend now, and I will explain how rain® collects in the clouds above, and how the showers are precipitated and de-

* Influence.! Ver. 481. jEstus. " By tetheris aestus understand those atoms which, continually proceeding from the heaven, com-

Sreis the thin clouds, by impacts upon them, into showers." Creech. ee the next.paraffraph.

' To this assemblage of clouds."] Ver. 483. Hunc — in catum — illi, " Illi, icil. vortici, vel nubi." Forbiger. Lambinus reads iUa, agree- ing with corpora.

■ The extent of the depth of space is infinite.] Ver. 485. SMwimam- qus profundi^ Esse infinitam. See i. 957, seq. Of the swiftness of atoms, see ii. 141, seq.

* Inexpressible distance.] Ver. 488. Immemorabile per spatium. " AvsKdiriyriTov, inexplicabile, immensum.'* Faber, ad iv. 193, where the same word occurs.

* Difiused from above.] Ver. 491. Impensa supeme. " What is the exact signification of this word impensa^ or whence it is formed, is to me not very clear. Lambinus refers it to impendor; but it ap- pears to me that there is nothing common between these two words ; and I should have little hesitation in assigning impensa, as well as suspensa, to the root pando; but in the silence of me old grammarians it becomes me to express my suspicions with modesty." Wakejield,

* Rain.] Ver. 485- Pluvitts humor.

B. VI. 497-^21. LUCRETIUS. 265

scend upon the earth. In the first place I shall observe,^ that many atoms of moisture arise, together with the clouds them- selves,^ from all things on the earth, and that both these sub- stances, the clouds and the water which is contained in the clouds, increase together, in the same manner as our body grows together vnth the blood that is in it, and as sweat and other moisture, which are diffused throughout the limbs, are augmented together with them. The clouds, too, when the wind drives them over the wide sea, frequently attract much mois- ture from the salt water, like fleeces of wool suspended in the air. In like manner moisture is raised from all rivers into the clouds; where, when numerous particles of water have in many ways collected, and have been augmented from every quarter, the swollen clouds strive for two reasons to discharge themselves ; for the force of the wind presses them ; and the mass of clouds itself, when a greater body than ordinary has united, urges and weighs them down from above, and makes the rain flow forth upon the earth.

Moreover, when the clouds are rarefied by the wind, or when they are dissolved by the influence of the sun's heat from above, they forthwith discharge rain ; their moisture distilling as wax,3 thoroughly melted, drops over a strong fire.

But violent rain takes place, when the clouds are vehe- mently urged by both forces ; being densely heaped upon one another, and pressed by the impetuosity of the Mrind.

And rains are accustomed to last long, and to continue for a considerable period, when many particles of moisture flow together,^ and when there are clouds on clouds^ heaped one

* I shall observe.] Ver. 498. Vincam, This verb properly sig- nifies, I tnll demonstrate or prove; but as he offers little or no proof on the point, I have thought fit to translate it by a lighter word.

* Arise, together with the clouds themselves.] Ver. 498. Conavr- gere niMbue ipeis, I have followed Creech in understanding cum or una cum.^ That clouds do rise from the earth he has already re- marked in ver. 476, seq.

* They — discharge rain— distilling as wax, 4rc.] Ver. 515. Mittunt fiumorem pluvium ; itillante quaai igni Cera liguescat. This is Wake- field's reading. With etiUante you must understand, si diit placet, " humore." But Lambinus, and all his followers, have eHUantgtie.

* Flow together.] Ver. 520, 522. Fluenter—feruntur, But this is a most inconvenient and unsatisfactory construction. For fluenter Lambinus has fuerunt, and Lachmann cierunt, either of which makes very good sense.

* Clouds on clouds.] Ver. 521. Nvbea nimMque^

266 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 522—550.

over another, pouring down water from above, and from every part around ; and when the whole earth, fuming with va- pour, sends back moisture into the air.

Then, when the sun, in the midst of a dark storm, and when the rain descends opposite to him, has shone upon the shower with his rays, the hues of the rainbow appear upon the black clouds.

Other matters, which gather above us, and are produced above tis, and all bodies (all / sat/, without exception) * which collect in the clouds, as snow, wind, hail, and cold frost, as well as the strong power of ice, the great hardener of the waters, and the restraint which every where delays the eager rivers ; all these, though numerous, it is yet very easy to un- derstand, and to comprehend how they are produced, and from what cause they arise, when you have thoroughly learned what virtues and qualities belong to the atoms which constitute their substance, ^ Give me now your attention further, and learn what is the cause of earthquakes.^ And first, suppose the earth to be below, as it is above, filled in every part with airy caverns, and containing also, in its bosom, many lakes and many pools, as well as stones and fissured rocks ; while you must likewise suppose that it rolls along forcibly, beneath the surface of the soil, many hidden rivers, floods, and submerged rocks ; for nature herself requires that the earth be similar to itself throughout.

These points, then, being laid down and admitted, the earth quakes on the surface, when it is shaken by great falls of sub- stances beneath, as when age brings down vast caverns ; for then whole mountains sink, and, from the violent shock, trem- blings spread far and wide in a moment ; an effect which we may naturally imagine ; since whole houses totter by the side of a road, when shaken with waggons, though of no great weight \ nor are edifices less agitated ^ when the stout drivers

* All bodies, (all, / say, without exception.)] Ver. 528. Omniat proraum Omnia,

* Earthquakes.] Ver. 535. The opinions which he gives respect- ing earthquakes are those of Epicurus, as well as of Democritus and Anaxagoras. See Lamhinus and Faber.

^ Nor are edifices less agitated, S^c.^ Ver. 550. Nee minus exsultant (Bdesj ubiquomque equitum vis, &c. The word (Bdes is not wanted, as tecta precedes. It was an intrusion of Wakefield's, from conjecture.

B. VI. 551—568. LUCRETIUS. 267

of chariots hurry along the street the iron rounds of the wheels.

It happens, also, that when a large mass of earth ^ rolls down, from the effects of time, into a wide and deep pool of water, the water is agitated, and the earth, too, trembles with the concussion of the flood ; as a vessel of liquid cannot stand still upon the ground, unless the liquid, (rfter being shaken^ has ceased to sway with a rocking motion within it.

Moreover, when wind, collected in the hollow places under the earth, bears strongly from one quarter, and, struggling with vast power, crowds into the deep caverns, the earth, to- wards the part where the force of the blast directs itself, inclines and gives way; and then the buildings which are erected upon the earth's surface,^ sloping and being driven from the perpendicular, lean in the same direction, and so much the more as they respectively rise higher into the air ; while the beams, being stretched, stand out, as ready to start from their places. And do men hesitate to believe that a time of ruin and destruction awaits the whole fabric of the world, when they see so vast a mass of the earth give way ? Whereas, even now, unless the winds were to remit their fury, no power could save all things,^ or could hinder them from

Lambinus read, Nee minus exultant tibi cttrrua fortis equbm vis, &c. The manuscripts vary, and are unintelligible. Lachmann re-con- structs the line thus : Nee. minus exultant, et uhi lapi^ cunque via'i. In the next line, Ferratos utrinque rotarum succutit orbes, I have omitted the second word in the translation.

' When a large mass of earth, ^c] Ver. 552. He signifies that earthquakes may take place from the fall of masses of rocky or other matter into bodies of water beneath the surface of the earth. ^ Then the buildings which are erected upon the earth's surface, *c.] Ver. 561.

Tum supra terram ^use sunt exstructa domorum, Ad coelumque magis quanto sunt edita qusque. In clinata minent in eandem, prodita, partem ; Protractaeque trabes impendent, ire paratse.

Exstructa domorum, the same as strata viarum, prima virorumf &c. In clinata minent, says Wakefield, is for clinata imminent. Prodita, he adds, is for jnyrro data, or prqfecta, or vpoKsifieva, Comp. ver. 606. For minent Lachmann reads meant. •"* No power could save all things, ^c] Ver. 568.

vis nulla refr<Bnet Res, neque ah exitio possit reprehendere euntes.

i. e. vis nulla refraenet res ab exitio, neaue possit reprebex\Asx^ (res) euntes (ad exitium). Lambinua Teaa%,

268 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 669-585.

going to destruction ; but, because they relax and struggle by turns, and, as if collecting their force, return to the charge, and then retreat as if repulsed ; the earth, on this account, oftener threatens ruin than actually suffers it ; ^ for it inclines and starts back, as it were, only for a time, and then, making an effort with its whole weight recovers its station.* From this cause, accordingly, all our houses tremble and reel ; the highest more than the middling, the middling more than the lowest, the lowest scarcely at aU.'

There is also this cause of great quaking of the earth to he mentioned. When wind, and any vast quantity of air, collected either without or within the earth, has suddenly thrown itself into hollow places under the ground, it there rages, at first,* with violent fury, among the vast caverns, and rolls and urges itself along ; but at length, when its force is roused and ex- cited, it bursts forth abroad, and, cleaving the deep soil, forms a huge yawning chasn^ as happened in Syrian Sidon,^ and

non uUa refranet Bet, neque ab exitio poasit reprehendere euntem,

i. e. non uUa res refrsenet (terrain) ab exitio, neque possit repre- hendere (terram) euntem (ad exitium). The latter seems prefer- able ; for the former draws the mind of the reader away from the earth, which is the immediate subject of the passage, to things in general. Wakefield justly observes, that Virgil probably had these lines in his thoughts, when he wrote,

Ni faciat, maria, ac terras, coelumque profundum, Quippe ferant rapidi secum verrantque per auras.

^n. i. 56,

* The earth — oftener threatens ruin than actually suffers it.] Ver. 572. Sapiut hanc 6b rem minitatur terra ruincu Quam facit. Earthquakes, and other disorders on the earth, do hap])en; but not so frequently as circumstances seem to threaten. This seems to be the sense of the passage. To refer it to any general destruc- tion of the earth, when Lucretius no where hints that any has happened, seems to be absurd. Yet Good makes it.

Earth oftener far is menaced than destroy 'd.

' And then, making an effort with its to?u>le weight, recovers its station.] Ver. 574. Et recipit prolapsa suae in pondere aedes. " The order is, Et prolapsa in (i. e. Iv, cum, ^td) pondere, recipit suas se- des." Wakefield,

* Scarcely at all.] Ver. 576. Ferhilum, " Paullum modo, fere nihil." Faber.

* Rages, at first.] Ver. 581. Fremit ante.

* Syrian Sidon.] Ver. 585. Syrid Sidone. This was the old read- ing, which, after Lambinus had altered it into Tyrid Sidone, Wake-

B. VI. 586-608. LUCRETIUS. 269

was seen at JRgium in the Peloponnesus ; ^ which cities, such an eruption of air, and an earthquake produced at the same time, overthrew and destroyed. Many other cities, also, by reason of violent earthquakes, have sunk down to the ground ; and many cities, with their inhabitants, have been over- whelmed in the sea.^ But if the force of the air, and violent fury of the wind, do not burst through the soil, they yet spread, like shuddering blasts, through the numerous open- ings under ground, and thus cause a tremour on the surface ; as cold, when it penetrates into our limbs, shakes them, and compels them to tremble and quiver against our will. Men, therefore, in cities, are appalled, on such occasions, with dou- ble terror ; for they dr^d the buildings above them ; and are afraid, at the sam^ time, lest the earth should suddenly break up^ the depths below, and lest, being disruptured and dis- ordered, it should open wide its jaws, and prepare to fill them with its own ruins.

Though men, therefore, think that- the heavens and the earth will be imperishable, and are intrusted to eternal safety,* yet, at times, the present influence of danger causes in some degree the sensation of fear ; a fear lest the earth, suddenly withdrawn from beneath their feet, should sink down into a gulf; and lest the sum op things, utterly overthrown, should follow it, and only a confused wreck of the world remain.

I must now proceed to give a reason why the sea knows

field recalled, observing that Pliny^ N. H. xxxv. 51, has " terrft in Syrtfl, circa Sidonem, oppidum maritimum.*' "And," says Forbiger, " since geographers (as Strabo, xvi. p. 749, Cas. ; Plin. N. H. y. 13 ; Pomp. Mela, i. 11, 1) comprise under the name of Syria, in its wider sense, all the lands between Cilicia, Arabia, Egypt, and the Tigp-is, and, consequently, Phcenice, why might not Lucretius also have called Sidon a Syrian city ? " Of this earthquake mention is made by Justin, xviii. 3 ; and by Strabo, i. p. 58.

* At ^gium in the Peloponnesus.] Ver. 585. uEgi in Peloponneso. Mgium was a town of Achaia, near which stood Helice and Bura, which were destroyed by an earthquake. See Ovid. Met. xv. 293, ibique Heins. and Burm. ; also Pausanias, vii. 24 ; and Diod. Sic. XV. 48.

* Have been overwhelmed in the sea.] Ver. 589. Per mare pesaum Subsedere. " Pessum, deorsum, et quasi sub pedes." Lambinus.

^ Lest the earth should suddenly break up.] Ver. 598. Terrai ne dissolvat natura. " Terrai natura /br Terra ipsa." Creech,

* Intrusted to eternal safety.] Ver. 602. ^Etemce mandata aaluH,

270 LUCRETIUS. b.\i. 609—633.

no augmentation.^ In the first place, men wonder that nature does not necessarily enlarge the oc^an, into which there is so great a conflux of waters, and into which the rivers run from all quarters. But add to the rivers, if you please, the wan- dering showers and flying storms, which scatter and dischai'ge themselves over all the sea and the earth ; add, if you please, the sources of the rivers ; yet all these, compared with the vastness of the sea, are but as one drop of water for the aug- mentation of the whole. It is no wonder, therefore, that the mighty ocean is not increased.

Besides, the sun, by the influence of his heat, draws a large portion away from t^. For we observe how the sun dries, with his burning rays, garments that are drenched with mois- ture. But the ocean, we see, is large, and widely extended beneath his beams; and although, therefore, the sun may ex- hale but a small portion of moisture from each spot on the sea, it will yet deduct a large quantity from its waters through- out so great an extent of surface.

Moreover the winds, — the winds, / say, which sweep the ocean, — may carry off a considerable portion of its liquid ; for we often see the roads, after being drenched with rain, dried in a single night, and a crust of mud, which before was soft, hardened and congealed upon them.

The clouds, too, I have before shown, take up a large quan^ tity of moisture, which is attracted by them from the vast surface of the ocean ; and which they sprinkle, in various parts, over the whole round of the earth, at times when rain falls on the ground, and when he winds drive the clouds athwart the sky.

Lastly, since the earth is of a porous consistence, and is in contact with the sea, encompassing the shores of the deep on

* Why the sea knows no augmentation.] Ver. 608. Cur augmen nesciat cequor. " To the question, why the sea, into which all rivers run, is not increased, Lucretius answers, 1. That the sea is so vast, that all the water of the rivers, together with all the rain that falls from the clouds, is but as a drop'to the whole. 2. That the sun ex- hales much water from it. 3. That the winds carry away much. 4. That the clouds take away a portion. 5. That as the rivers run into the sea, so they pass out of the sea, by openings in the earth from the bed of the ocean, to their own sources ; producing a cir- culation of water which makes it not at all wonderful that there is no increase in the sea." Creech.

B. VI. 633-652. LUCRETIUS. 271

all sides, the water, as it flows from the earth into the sea, must likewise pass, reciprocally^ from the salt sea into the earth ; for the salt is strained off, and the pure substance of the water flows back into the ground, and collects all together at the sources of rivers; from whence it returns, in fresh streams, over the earth, wherever a passage, once cut, has conveyed the flood in its liquid course.^

I shall now explain what is the cause that flres at times burst forth, with such tempestuous fury, from the jaws of Mount -^tna.2 For it was not from any divine origin of calamity,^ that a storm of fire, rising and raging over the fields of the Sicilians, attracted to itself the attention of the neighbouring nations, when, observing all the regions of heaven covered with smoke, and gleaming with fiames^ they felt their breasts filled with awful anxiety, dreading what new catastrophe nature might design to produce.

In contemplating such subjects flw these, you must stretch your view widely and deeply, and look far abroad in all di- rections, that you may remind yourself that the sum of things is vast, and reflect how very small, how infinitely small a part*

* Has conveyed the flood in its liquid course.] Ver. 639. Qua via secta semel liquidopede detulit nudas. See ver. 270.

* Fires— burst forth from the jaws of Mount iEtna.] Ver. 640.

*^ He now proceeds to treat of other remarkable phsenomena, which might, in the opinion of some, support the notion of the world beiiig governed by the providence of the gods. And first, he speaks of the fire of jEtna, at which, though it lays waste a large portion of Sicily, we ought not inconsiderately to wonder, as bemg beyond the powers of natiu'e. Some may think it supernatural, because it is vast, but they think it vast, only because they have not seen a greater ; nor ought we to wonder at the vastness of any thing, when we compare it with the immensity of the universe ; which would supply atoms for a conflagration that would far exceed those of ^tna. Eruptions of this kind are like diseases in the human frame ; and as the seeds of disease may come into the human body from the world in which we live, so they may come into the world from the universe ; for if you make a comparison, you may say that as man is to this world J so is this world to the universe." From Creech.

* From any divine origin of calamity.] Ver. 642. Neque enim did de clade coorta, S^c, Did de clade is the conjecture of Faber, which Havercamp and Forbiger adopted. Wakefield reads, from a con- jecture of Isaac Vossius, mediocri clade ; and Lachmann follows him. I certainly prefer di&,

* How infinitely small a ];)art.] Ver. 652. Qudm multesima. Lam- binus compares the expression multesima pars with the Greek vo\-

272 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 653-681.

of the whole universe, is this one heaven ; not even so con- siderable a part as one man is of the whole earth. This point if you fully consider, and fully understand, when it is fairly presented to your mind^ you may forbear to wonder at many things which now excite your admiration.

For, in respect to our own bodies, which of us is surprised if any of his neighbours has contracted a fever, that spreads through his frame with a burning heat, or has felt any other painful disease in his limbs ? Since the foot often swells on a sudden; a sharp pang frequently seizes the teeth, or darts through the eyes ; erysipelas arises, and, creeping through the frame, bums whatever part it has attacked, and spreads itself over the limbs. Nor is it strange that such maladies should occur; for there are atoms ready to produce many effects ; and this «arth and air contain seeds enough of noxious dis- ease, from which an abundance of infinite disorder may have its growth. Thus, too, t^e must suppose that, as to our own bodies, so to the whole heaven and earth, are plentifully sup- plied all kinds of atoms from the immensity of matter, by /Ac effects o/* which the earth, being suddenly moved, may quake unth agitation, while a rapid hurricane may rush over sea and land, the fire of -ffitna may swell forth, and the heaven be in a blaze ; for even this happens, even the celestial regions glow with heat. Thtis, too, storms of rain arise with a greater combination-of-force, when particles of moisture have in like manner chanced to unite themselves.

" But the raging fire ofMtna^^ you will say, " is extraordi- narily great." Doubtless, / answer; and a river, which has been seen by any person, appears extraordinarily great to Tiim who has never before seen a greater ; and a man or a tree possibly appears large to the eyes of some animals; and every one imagines every thing of every sort, which is the greatest that he has seen, to be extremely large ; although all things that he beholds, together with the heaven and the earth and the ocean, are a^ nothing in comparison with the entire, sum

OP THE ENTIRE WHOLE. ^

I will now, however, explain by what causes the fire of

Xoorbv fispog, which he observes that Strabo (lib. i. p. 26, ed. Cas.) uses in the sense of perexigtia tantum pars.

* Entire sum of the entire whole.] Ver. 680. Summam sum- mat totius omnem.

B. VI. 682—709. LUCRETIUS. 273

^tna, when suddenly excited, bursts forth from its vast fur- naces. In the first place, the fabric of the mountain is hollow underneath, supported, for the most part, by arches of flint- stone. In all the caverns, moreover, is wind and air, for air, when it is moved by any agitating impulse^ becomes wind. When this air, then, has grown hot, and has heated all the rocks and earth round about, as far as it reaches, and elicited from them fire raging with violent flames, it mounts up, and thus expels the blaze straight firom the jaws of the mountain, high into the air, and spreads it far abroad, and scatters the embers to a great distance, and rolls forth smoke heavy with thick darkness, while it darts out, at the same time, rocks of a wonderful weight. You cannot, therefore, doubt, but that it is the violent force of air which prodtices these effects.

Besides, the sea, for a considerable distance, alternately breaks its waves, and again retracts its tide, at the base of that mountain. From this sea caverns extend under ground as far as the ascending jaws of the mountain; by these caverns you must admit (for fact absolutely compels you) that blasts of wind enter ^ and penetrate from the open sea, and thus exalt the flame, and cast up rocks, and raise clouds of sand. For on the summit of the mountain are craters, as the Greek call them, but which we call jaws and mouths.

There are some phaenomena, too, for which it is not suf- ficient to assign merely one cause, but it is requisite to enumerate many : of which, however, one only can be the true cause. As if, for example, you should see the dead body of a man lying on the ground at a distance, you naturally run over all the probable causes of his death,^ that the one cause of it may be sure to be mentioned. For neither, perhaps, can you prove

» Blasts of wind enter.] Ver. 698.

hac ire, fatendum est, £t penetrare mari, penitus res cogit, aperto, Atque efilare foras.

I hsLV-e supplied " blasts of wind *' in accordance with the notion of Good. Creech supposed that not wind, but water, was meant, and he "gives," says Good, "the general interpretation of the editors;" hut, he adds, " the idea of fire retreating before a body of water,^ and being forced upwards in a perpendicular line to an immense height, instead of intermingling with the water, is absolute nonsense." * You naturally run over all the probable causes of his death, 4f^.]

274 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 710-723.

that he died by the sword, nor of the effects of cold, nor by disease, nor by poison ; but we know that it is something of this destructive nature that has happened to him. This same observation we may make in respect to many other things.

The Nile, the river of all Egypt,* is the only one of all streams in the world that swells towards summer, and inun- dates the fields. This river waters Egypt, from time to time, during the middle of the hot season ; and this happens, possi- bly,^ because the north winds, which are said to be Etesian winds y^ prevail at that time in the summer over against the mouth of the river, and, blowing up the stream, retard it ; and thtis, forcing the flood up the channel, fill it, and compel the waters to stagnate. For without doubt these breezes, which come from the cold stars of the north pole, advance against the stream. The river flows from the warm countries, taking its rise from the extreme south, and from the regions of noon-

Ver. 707. Fit tU omnes dicere catisas conveniat leti, dicatur vt iUius una. " Enumerare oportet omnes causas.** Creech,

* The Nile, the river of all Egypt.] Ver. 713. " He now speaks of the increase of the Nile in the summer ; a matter concerning which there was much inquiry among the ancients. Herodotus notices and refutes their opinions ; of which, the first attributed the effect to the Etesian winds ; the second, to the ocean ; the third, to the melting of snow near the upper portion of^he stream ; and then proposes his own as a fourth, imputing the swell of the river to the change of position in the sun, which, in winter, passing over Libya, exhales a great quantity of water from the Nile ; but, at the ap- proach of summer, retreating to the north, has tl^ same effect on the rivers of Greece ; so that, according to Herodotus, the Nile only seems to increase in summer, when, in reality, it decreases in winter. This opinion is opposed by Diod. Sic. lib. i. See also Plin. N. H. V. 9; Pomp. Mel. i. 9; and Solin. c. 45." Lambinus. It is now pretty generally considered that the inundation arises chiefly from the periodical rains, which fall in the tropical regions from June to September ; but that it is partialljr promoted, at the same time, by the Etesian or annual winds, which blow violently from the north-east, and diminish the discharge of water from the river into the sea.

* And this happens j possibly. §*c.] Ver. 716. Aut quia sunt cestate aquilones, Sgc, The reader of tne Latin will see that though this aut signifies either, there is no conjunction following it, to allow it to be so given in the English translation. I have therefore made a slight change.

* Said to be Etesian winds."] Ver. 717. EtesicB esseferuntur. See v. 741.

B. VI. 724—738. LUCRETIUS. 275

day,^ amidst the races of mankind blackened with scorching heat.^

It is possible, also, that a great collection of sand ^ (at times when the sea, excited by the wind, drives the sand within the bed of the river) may cause obstruction* at the mouth of the stream to the waters coming towards it. By this means it may happen that the outlet of the river mat/ be less free, and that the current of the water, likewise, may bo rendered less impetuous.

It is also possible, perhaps, that rain may fall more abund- antly near its source, at the very time when the Etesian winds from the north drive all the clouds into those parts. For when the clouds, impelled towards the regions of the south,* have collected there in a body, they are at last pressed and driven against the lofty mountains, and compelled by the force of the wind to discharge their waters.

Perhaps, too, it may have its increase entirely from the high hills of the Ethiopians, at the time when the sun, shining on all parts of them^ forces the white snow, with his dissolving rays, to descend in a flood upon the plains.

* From the regions of noon-day.] Ver. 724. MediA oft regione diet. That is, ab regione medii diei^ or ab regione meridiei* See ver. 733.

2 Races of mankind blackened with scorching heat.] Ver. 723. Inter nigra virUm percocto aacla calore. This is according to Wake- field. It is strange that any man in his senses should have fixed such a reading in his text. Percoctus means parched, scorched, but what is percoctus cahr, scorched heat? Lambinus read percoctaque 8<Bcla colore, which is intelligible j and Lachmann gives percocto sacla colore, which is (equally intelligible, and approaches nearer to the manuscripts. I have rendered it scorching heat, to put some sense into the line. The same words occur again in ver. 1108. Sil. Italicus, xviii. 633, has incocti corpora Mauri,

* Collection of sand.] Ver. 725. He now suggests another cause, which is also noticed by Pomponius Mela, i. 9.

* Cause obstruction, ^c] Ver. 726. Fossit — Fluctibus adversis oppi- lare ostia contra, ** Oppilare,*' says Lambinus, '^ is to obstruct l^ke a number of pillars or columns ranged in opposition.'* The construc- tion is, oppilare, to offer obstruction, fluctibus adversis, to the adverse waters of the river, (i. e. to the waters of the river coming down against the sand,) con^a ostia, opposite the mouth. Scheller, in his Lexicon, referring to this passage, cites merely "oppilare ostia," which mi^ht lead the reader to suppose that oppilare governs ostia; but Lambinus rightly observes that oppilare is here used absolutely.

* Impelled towards the regions of the south.] Ver. 783. Ad mediam regionem ejecta diet. See ver. 724.

T %

276 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 739—758.

Give me now your attention, and I will show with what nature and qualities the regions and lakes, which ate called Avernian,^ are distinguished.

In the first place, as to the circumstance that they are named Avemian, that name has been given them from their peculiar property, inasmuch as they are destructive to all kiTids of birds ; and because, when an^ of the feathered tribe have, in their flight, come over against those parts,^ forgetful of their steerage, they relax the sails of their pinions, and, sinking down with powerless neck, fall headlong on the ground, if, perchance, the nature of the parts beneath allow them to fall thus, or into the water, if a lake of Avemus happen to be stretched under them. Such a spot is near Cumae, where the hills smoke from being charged with vivid sulphur, and abounding with hot springs.

There is also a place within the walls of Athens, on the very summit of the hill, close by the temple of bountiful Tritonian Pallas, to which the hoarse crows never direct their flight ; not even when the altars smoke with offerings. So carefully do they avoid, not the violent wrath of Pallas on account of watchfulness,^ as the poets of the Greeks have sung, but the fumes of the sulphur ; for the nature of the place produces this effect of itself.

There is also reported to be a place in Syria, plainly to be seen,* to which as soon as four-footed animals have directed

* Regions and lakes which are called Avernian.] Ver. 739. Aver- nor—loca, Loca Avema, i. e. dopva^ or wiihmU birds, as being so noxious to birds that they cannot live in the air above them. It is to be observed that Lucretius is not speaking of one particular Aver- nus, but of such places in general. He specifies one near Cumae in Italy; one at Athens; and one in Syria. All his remarks have reference to these places as far as ver. 840.

' Have — come over aeainst those parts.] Ver. 743. E regione ea qubd loca quom venere. " i. e. ciim h regione (ad) ea loca venere." Lamlnnue,

* Not the violent wrath of Pallas on account of watchfulness.] Ver. 754. Non iraa Palladia a,crea Pervigilt cattsd. The crow is callea inviaa Minerva, (Ov. Am. ii. 6, 35,) because, as the fable tells, having watched^ three damsels, (Pandrosos, Herse, and Aglauros, to whom she had intrusted Ericthonius, with injunctions not to open the chest in which he was concealed,) she informed the goddess that they had disobeyed her orders. Why Minerva was so much offended at this does not appear ; but the crow, it seems, ever afterwards shunned her and her temples. See Ov. Met. ii. 542, seg,

* Plainly to he seen.] Ver. 757. Videri, *' "QtrreUnreair Lambinus,

B. VI. 759—786. LUCRETIUS. 277

their steps, the very nature of it causes them to fall heavily on the earth, as if they were suddenly made a sacrifice to the infernal deities.

But all these things are effected by the c^eration of nature ; and the origin of them, and from what causes they arise, is apparent. So that the gate of Tartarus must not be thought to be situate in these regions, nor, moreover,^ must we imagine that the infernal deities can possibly draw souls down from hence into the coasts of Acheron, as swift stags,^ with the breath of their nostrils, are often supposed to draw the crawl- ing tribes of serpents from their hiding-places. But observe, I pray you, how far aU this is at variance with just reasoning ; for I now proceed to give you a fuU explanation concerning (his very subject.

In the first place, I assert this, (which I have also fre- quently asserted before,^) that there are in the earth all kinds of forms of the atoms of things ; of which there are many that are wholesome for food, and many that may bring on disease and hasten death. We have also previously shown ^ that for different animals, with regard to the sustenance of life, some substances are better adapted than others, on accoumt of their dissimilar natures, and opposite constitution one to the other, and the primary figures of their seminal-particles. Many noxious atoms pass through the ears ; many that are offensive and harsh to the sense penetrate through the nostrils ; nor are there few only wMch are to be avoided by the touch, or shunned by the sight, or which are bitter to the taste.

You may notice, too, how many things are of a violently pernicious influence on mankind, both disagreeable and deadly. To certain trees, we may first observe, has been assigned a poisonous shade,^ so that they often cause pains in the head, if any one lies stretched on the grass beneath them.

* Moreover.] Ver. 764. Pott, i. e. deinde^ as Wakefield, whose reading it is, interprets. Possibly, in the next line, answers to forte in the original.

'As swift stags, Sge.^ Ver. 766. In reference to this notion see Pliny, N. H. ii. 53; Oppian, Cyneg. ii. 288: JEli&n, de Anim. ii. 9.

' Which I have also frequently asserted before.] Ver. 770. See ii. 333.

* Previously shown.] Ver. 775. See iv. 634; v. 896.

* Poisonous shade.] Ver. 784. Gravis umbra. Pliny attributes this property to the walnut and the box-tree. H. N. xvii. 12, and

278 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 787—800.

There is likewise on the high mountains of Helicon a tree,^ which has been known to kill a man by the malignant odour of its blossom. All these destructive substances, you will un-* derstand, spring from the ground, because the earth contains many seeds of many things mingled in many ways, and dis- tributes iheni separately to different productions.

And when a night taper, just extinguished,^ strikes a per- son^s nostrils with a pungent odour, it takes away his senses, so that he falls down on the very spot ; as when that disease takes effect^ which is accustomed to stretch men at fuU length.

And a woman, overcome with^^Ae str6ng scent of castor,* if she has smelt it at the time at which she discharges her menses, falls backward, and her elegant work drops from her tender hands.

And many other things relax the organs, causing them to languish throughout the body, and disturb the soul in its seat within.

Besides, if, toith a stomach too fuU, you even stay long in a warm bath, or are drenched in a laver of tepid water,^ how

xvi. 10. Some such quality seems to have been thought to belong to the shade of the juniper ; for Virgil says, Juniperi gravis umbra : Eel. X. 76. The Manchmeel tree of the West Indies, and the Upas of Java, were then unknown to Europeans.

* On the high mountains of Helicon a tree.] Ver. 787. " "What tree this is, I shall leave for others to divine. Some suppose it to be the yew ; but why should he send us to Helicon for a yew, which is to be found any where in Italy? And to say that the yew will kill with the odour of its blossom is not true." Faber,

* A night taper, just extinguished.] Ver. 792. I know not who has seen an example of this assertion. Good quotes, from Smellie's Philosophy of History, vol. i., the following instance of a different sensation from the same odour. " I knew a gentleman who was in the daily habit of lighting and putting out candles, that he might enjoy the pleasure of their smell." "The effluvia of musk," says Busby, " as also of cheese, perhaps, an^ other esculents, will power- fully affect females, especially when they are under the circum- stances alluded to by the poet."

' As when that disease takes effect, 8^0."] Ver. 794. Ut pronos qui morbus mittere suevit. " You may reasonably interpret it the morbus comitialiSy or falling sickness." Creech.

* Strong scent of castor.] Ver. 795. Castoreoque gravi, " Casto- reumy a liquid matter enclosed in bags or purses, near the anus of the castor, falsely taken for his testicles." Chambers* s Diet.

* Warm bath — ^laver of tepid water.] Ver. 800. The one refers to the public baths, the other to bathing at home.

B. VI. 801—810. LUCRETIUS. 279

easily may it often happen that you may fall diOWTi fainting in the middle of it!

And how easily does the oppressive vapour and scent of charcoal find an entrance into the brain, unless we have first taken a drattght of water !^ But when it has penetrated ^ through aU the well- warmed apartments of a house, the odour' of wine then falls like a deadly blow upon the nerves.

Do you not observe also that sulphur is produced in the earth itself, and that bitumen, with its ofiensive smell, forms concretions in it ? When, moreover, men seek for veins of silver and gold, searching the hidden depths of the earth with

* Unless we have first taken a draught of water.] Ver. 804. NiH aquam pracepimtis antd. Ante, first, i. e. before the odour of the charcoal can penetrate into the brain." Lambimu,

* But when it has penetrated, §;c.] Ver. 805, 806. These verses and the two preceding, stand thus in Forbiger and Eichstadt :

Carbonumque gravis vis atque odor insinuatur Qu^m facile in cerebrum, nisi aquam praecepimus ant^. At cum membra domus percepit fervida, nervis Turn fit odor vini plagse mactabiHs instar.

(In Wakefield's edition the word At begins a new paragraph.) It is therefore fair to suppose that Forbiger and Eichstaat referred percepit to carbonum odor; and I have translated the passage accordingly. Wakefield evidently referred it to odor vini; quum odor vini per- cepit membra domus, turn fit (idem odor) plagse mactabilis instar. And thus his follower Good renders it :

While the foul gas, that from fermenting must Springs, like a blow deep stuns us with its force.

Good had doubtless referred to Wakefield's note, where a passage from Gronovius (Obs. iii. 5.) is quoted, who would read muatum in- stead of nervis. As for Lambinus and nis party, they read.

At ci!tm membra hominis percepit fervida febris, Tum fit odor vini plagse mactabilis instar ;

which Creech rendered by the audacious couplet.

To those whom fevers bum, the piercing smell Of vigorous wine is grievous, death and hell.

Lachmann reads.

At cum membra domiis percepit fervidior via Tum fit odor viri plagee mactabilis instar.

Viri, from virus, poison, referring to the cbarcoaL This may be right.

280 LUCRETIUS. B. Ti. 811—829.

iron instruments^ bow strong an odour does the mine^ exhale from beneath !

Or have you not learned how much poison is in the earth for gold mines to exhale?^ What sort of looks and com- plexions do they produce in the men who work in them f Do you not remark, or hear from others, in how short a time they are wont to waste away, and how length of life is neces- sarily withheld from those whom superior power confines in such an employment ? The earth, evidently, steams forth all these vapours, and breathes them out into the regions of the air, which are open and ready to receive them.

So, likewise, the regions of Avernus must send up from beneath a vapour destructive to birds; a vapour which ascends from the earth into the air, in such abundance as to poison the body of the atmosphere to a certain extent. So that, as soon as a bird has been borne thither on its wings, it is there stopped, being so violently affected by the invisible poison, that it drops down over against the spot where the exhalation raises itself. And when the bird has fallen there,^ this same force of the exhalation takes away the remains of life from all its members. For at first it only excites, as it were, a certain giddiness in the birds, but afterwards, when they have fallen from on high on the very sources of the

* Mine.] Ver. 811. Scaptensvla, It is a word formed from vKaic- rbg, tj, bv, (from aKaivTiiVy to dig y) and vXjy, matter^ signifying material for digging, or material dug up, ■ Lambinus thinks that it snoidd be written without the n, and he seems to have reason on his side. Festus says that it was the name of a place in Macedonia, remark- able for its mines ; and Faber observes that it hence became a ge- neral name for a mine.

* Or have you not learned how much poison is in the earth for gold mines to exhale?] Ver. 812. Quidve mali fit, xU exhalent aurata me- tullat " Meaning,** says Wakefield, " what poisonous matter that is, from which gold mines emit such exhalations ? "

* And when the bird has fallen there, ^r^.] Ver. 825.

Qu6 ciim corruit haec eadem vis illius aestiis, Reliquias vitse membris ex omnibus aufert.

Thus are the lines pointed in Forbiger and Wakefield ; but I con- sider, with Creech, that there ought to be a point after corruity which is to be referred, not to the vapour, but to the bird. When the bird has fallen down, the vapour deprives it of life. It is observable that Lucretius here uses metue at the end of three verses out of four : in the first two places it signifies the Avernian vapour ; in the third, giddiness in the birds. Comp. iv. 1020.

B. VI. 830— 865. LUCRETIUa 281

poison, it comes to pass that they must there yield up even their life, because a vast quantity of the ^iBonoua-exhiikUwn surrounds them.

It happens also, at times, that this vapour and exhalation of Avemus disperses the air which intervenes between the birds and the earth, so that that portion of the atmosphere is left, from this cause, almost empty. And when the birds, in their flight, have come over against this part, the effort of their wings immediately halts and grows ineffectual, and every struggle of their pinions, on either side, is unsupported. Thus, when they are unable to flap their wings, or to rest upon themy nature you will understand, compels them to de- scend to the earth by their ovm weight, and accordingly, sink- ing down through the part which is almost a vacuum, they disperse abroad their lives through every pore of the body.

Water in wells, ^ moreover, grows cooler in summer, and for this reason, that the earth is then rarified by the heat, and emits rapidly into the air any atoms of warmth which it may happen to contain. The more, accordingly, the earth is ex- hausted of its heat, the cooler, also, does the water become which is concealed under-ground. And on the contrary, too, when the earth is contracted, and condensed, and congealed, as it were, with cold, it happens that, as it contracts, it dis- charges into the wells whatever heat it contains.

Near the temple of Jupiter Ammon,^ there is said to he a fountain which is cold in the day and warm in the night. At the peculiarity of this fountain men greatly wonder, and imagine that the earth is heated, in its tium,^ by the power of the SMnfrom beneath, during the time when night has covered the earth with its awful darkness ; a supposition which is too much opposed to just reasoning. For since the sun, striking on the uncovered body of water at noon-day, when the rays

* Water in wells.] Ver. 841. Having concluded his remarks on the Avemian regions, he proceeds to account, from natural causes, for other phsenomena.

* Near the temple of Jupiter Ammon, ^r^''] Ver. 849. This foun- tain is described by Pliny, H. N. ii. 108 ; romp. Mela, i. 8 ; and Quintus Curtius, iv. 7. iteference is also made to it by Ovid. Met. XV. 309, and by Silius Italicus. ill. 669. Its warmth was doubtless supplied by subterranean Are, out for its alternations of heat and cold no cause has been assigned.

» In its turn.] Ver. 862. Pariim. " Vicissim." WahtfiM.

282 LUCRETIUS. b. vi. 856-886.

from above are possessed of such violent heat, cannot make it warm even on the surface, how can this same sun act upon the water, and infuse into it his quickening heat, from beneath the earth, which is of so dense and solid a consist- ence? Especially when he can scarcely make his warmth, by means of his glowing rays, penetrate through the walls of houses. ^

What, then, is the cause ? It is evidently this: that certain ground, less dense than the rest of the ground, encircles this fountain ; and that there are many atoms of heat near the body of water. Hence, when night covers the earth with its dewy shade, the ground underneath immediately becomes cold and contracts. By this process it happens that the soil, as if it were compressed with the hand, discharges into the fountain whatever atoms of heat it contains, which make the water warm to the touch, ^ as well as the steam of it. After- wards, when the sun, with his morning rays, has relaxed and rarefied the earth, (as his active heat mingles with it,) the atoms of heat return again into their former places, and all the warmth of the water passes into the ground* From this cause the fountain becomes cold in the day-time.

Besides, the water is acted upon by the rays of the siin as the day comes on,^ and is rarefied by the tremulous heat of his beams. It accordingly happens, that whatever particles of heat it contains, it disperses ; as water oflen dispels the cold which it contains, and dissolves its ice, and relaxes its fetters.

There is also a cold spring at Dodona,^ over which when tow is placed, it frequently, catching fire at once, throws out flame ; and in like manner a torch, lighted at its waters, casts a radiance, wherever it swims or is impelled by the winds over the surface; the cause evidently being, that there are in the water many atoms of heat ; and particles of warmth must also arise from the earth itself over all the bottom of the fountain,

* Make the water warm to the touch.] Ver. 869. Calidum faciunt laticis tactMtn, Make the touch of the water warm.

* As the day comes on.] Ver. 876. In Ittcem. Towards day. Comp. in (Bstatem^ towards summer, ver. 713.

* Cold spring at Dodona,] Ver. 880. " Having shown that there is nothing divine in the fountain of Jupiter Ammon, he proceeds to make a similar assertion with regard to the fountain of Jupiter Do- donaeus." Creech. I have added " at Dodona " in the text, where Pliny, H. N. ii. 103, describes the fountain as being situate.

B. VI. 887— 909. LUCRETIUS. 283

and be exhaled and pass forth, at the same time, into the air ; yet these particles must not he so vivid as that the spring can be rendered hot hy them.

Besides, some powerful infiuence excites those atoms qfheat, when dispersed abroad, to burst suddenly upwards through the water, and to combine on the surface; as, in the sea around Arados,^ there is a spring of fresh water which bubbles up through ity and puts aside the salt waves around it. And in many other places the sea affords a seasonable relief to thirsty mariners, inasmuch as it casts up fresh water among the salt. Thus, too, those atoms of heat may burst up through that foun- tain of which we have spoken, and diffuse themselves abroad among the tow ; which atoms, when they combine together, or adhere to the substance of the tow or torch, easily take fire at once ; because tow and torches contain likewise many particles of heat, which may unite with those in the water to produce flame.

Do you not observe, also, that when you hold the wick of a lamp^ recently extinguished, to a night taper, it takes fire before it touches the flame ? And have you not noticed a torch caich fire in like manner? Many other substances, :too, affected by the mere heat, begin to bum at a distance /rom a fire, before its flame closely involves them,^ Such, therefore, we must conceive to be the case with respect to that fountain.

In the next place, I shall proceed to show by what law of nature it happens that the stone, which the Greeks call a magnet,* from the name of the region that produced it, (for

^ In the sea around Arados.] Ver. 891. Indu mart Aradio, Arados was a town, built on an island of the same name, on the coast of Phoenicia.

2 Wick of a lamp,"] Ver. 901. Linum, There is no doubt that this is the meaning of tne word linum in this passage.

" When, just extinct, the taper we apply To one full blazing." Good,

' Closely involves themA Ver. 905. Imbuat,

* Magnet] Ver. 908. Masnesia was a region in Lydia, of which the inhabitants were called Magnetes ; and from them, according to Lucretius and others, the magnet was named. Others say it Had its name from Maenes, a young man, who, walking over some stones* found himself held fast by the iron attached to his shoes, and thus first discovered the power of the magnet. See Plin. H. N. v. 29, xxxvi. 16. This dissertation on the magnet continues to ver* 1089.

284 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 910—941.

it was first found in the country of the Magnetes,) has the power to attract iron.

At this stone men look with astonishment, for it often ex- hibits a chain of little rings suspended from it. Since you may at times see five or more, hanging in a straight line, oscillate in a gentle breeze, whilst one depends from another, attached to it underneath; and whilst they feel from each other the influence and attraction of the stone ; so thoroughly does its force pervade the whole succession of rings.

In matters of this kind, you must establish many points be- fore you can state the principle of the thing itself; and I must, accordingly approach the subject by a long circuit of introductory remarks; on which account I entreat your atten- tive ear sjid favourable regard.

In the first place, from all bodies,^ whatsoever we behold, there must necessarily flow, and be emitted and dispersed, certain substances which strike the eye and excite vision ; odours, too, arc perpetually flying off fi^m some bodies ; as cold is also diffused from rivers, heat from the sun, spray from the billows of the ocean, which consumes walls near the shore; nor do various voices cease to flit through the air ; moreover the moisture, so- to speak, of a salt taste comes often into the mouth when we are walking near the sea ; and when we look at diluted wormwood being mixed, a bitterness affects our palate. So evident is it that a certain substance is carried off perpetually from all bodies, and is dis- persed in all parts round about ; nor is there any delay or rest allowed to the efflux ; since we constantly perceive it with our senses, and may see all objects at all times, and smell them, and hear them sound.

Here I shall observe again ^ that which is set forth in the first part of mt/ poem, namely, of how porous a consistence bodies are. For though to understand this is of importance to many subjects, it is especially necessary to establish, with regard to the very matter immediately under our notice, (concerning which I am proceeding to speak,) that there is

* In the first place, from all bodies, 4r^.] Ver. 922. Fifteen verses are here repeated from iv. 217.

* Here I shall observe again.] Ver. 937. Repetam commemorare. See i. 266.

B. VI. 942—967. LUCRETIUS. 285

nothing in the whole of things before us * but body intermingled with vacuity.

It is apparent, first of all, that in caverns ^ the overhanging rocks exude moisture, and distil running drops. From the whole of our own bodies, also, perspiration trickles; our beard sprmgs forth from them, and h^rs arise over all our limbs and members ; the food which we taJke is distributed through all our veins, and swells and nourishes the extreme parts of the body, and even the very nails ; we feel cold, too, and vivid heat, penetrate through brass ; we feel them like- wise pass through gold and silver, when we are holding fuU cups.^ Moreover voices fly through the stone walls of houses ; odours, and cold, pervade them ; as well as the heat of fire, which has power to penetrate even the substance of iron, as is felt where the corslet confines the circuit of the neck.* The infection of disease likewise penetrates waUsy as it enters into houses from without. Philosophers too, with reason, send far back again ^ into the depths of heaven and earth, the

* Before us.] Ver. 942. In promtu, ** Nihil in rerum naturft.'* Creech, ■

^ In caverns, S^c.l Ver. 943. His design, in these observations, is to show that in all bodies, however apparently solid, more or less of vacuity is intermingled ; and that into the vacua, or empty spaces, the atoms of other substances may enter. Our bodies contain vacua, or are porous, for out of them perspiration trickles, and through them are distributed particles of food ; metals and walls are porous, for they admit atoms of heat and cold, of voices and 'sounds. The heavens, and the earth in general, are of a similar consistence, for they can emit from their substance, whilst it remains apparently undiminished, atoms to produce a tempest ; and receive them back into themselves as the tempest subsides.

» Holding full cups.] Ver. 951. See i. 495, 496.

* Corslet confines the circuit of the neck.] Ver. 954.

Ignis ; qui ferri quoque vim penetrare suevit Denique, qu^ circum colli lorica coercet.

This is Wakefield's reading. Lambinus read, Undique qua circum corpus lorica coercet. The passage is probably still corrupt. ^ Philosophers too, with reason, send far back again, ^.] Ver.

957.

Et tempestatem terrd. coeloque coortam, In coelum terramque remote jure facessunt, Quandoquidem nihil est, nisi raro corpore nexum.

This is Wakefield's reading, and is translated according to his ex- position. " The atoms of a tempest," says he, " which arise from the

286 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 958—985.

tempest which has burst forth- from the earth and the heaven ; since they rightly consider that there is no combination of matter, ethereal or terrestrial, which is not of a consistence far-from-impenetrable to other atoms}

To this is to he added, that all atoms, which are discharged from bodies, are not possessed of the same 'power to affect the senses, nor are they all alike adapted to all substances.

The sun, we may first observe, extracts the moisture from the earth, and renders it dry ; while it melts ice, and forces the snows, piled on the high mountains, to dissolve in the heat of it9 rays. Wax, too, placed in the warmth of the sun, be- comes liquid. Fire, moreover, melts brass, and dissolves gold, but contracts and draws together the hides and flesh of animals. Water, also, hardens iron when fresh from the fire, but softens hides and flesh when hardened with heat. The wild olive tree, than which there is nothing that grows more bitter to the taste of man, delights the bearded goats as if it were flavoured with nectar and ambrosia. Swine, be- sides, shrink from ointment of amaracus,^ and dread every kind of perfume ; for that which seems, at times, to restore us, as it were, to life, is to bristly boars strong poison. Bui mud, on the contrary, which is to us most repulsive filth, seems clean and attractive to swine, so that they roll themselves over and over in it without being tired.

There is this, likewise, which remains to he noticed, and which seems necessary to be stated before I proceed to speak of the exact subject before us. Since in various bodies are situated many pores, these pores must be distinguished by na- tures diflering from one another, and have respectively their own forms and shapes.^ For there are various senses in ani-

heaven and earth, are into the heaven and earth received back again." With facessunt, which sadly wants a nominative, he understands philosophic and takes remote facessunt in the sense of send Jar back. Lambinus and Creech h^ve another lection, which, however, does not much alter the sense.

^ Far-from-impenetrable to other atoms,"] Ver. 959. I have ren- dered raro hy far-from-impenetrable. See on ver. 943, 947-

- Swine — shrink from ointment of amaracus.] Ver. 974. Amara- cinum fugitat sus. " Vetus adagium est, nihil cum fidibus graculo ; nihil cum amaracitw sui,** Aul. Gell, Pref.

* Their own forms and shapes.] Ver. 984. Stiam naturam — viasque. All pores must have their own via by which they allow atoms to

B. VI. 986—1014. LUCEETIUS. 287

mals, of which each perceives for itself its own peculiar object ; since we observe that by one sense sounds penetrate into us, by another taste from the juices of foody by another the smell of perfume. Besides, one thing seems to pass through stone, another through wood, another through gold. One substance seems to penetrate silver, and another glass ; for through the latter images seem to pass, and through the former heat. One thing, too, seems to penetrate through the same passages quicker than another. This difference, you may be certain, the nature of the passages obliges to exist ; since it evidently varies (as we showed a little abovie) according to the different consistence and texture of bodies.

For which reason, since all these points are established and laid down, and every thing prepared and made ready for us, the principle of the magnet will hence, moreover,^ be easily shown, and the whole cause, which attracts the substance of the iron, will be made manifest.

In the first place, many atoms, or effluvia, must necessarily fly off from the stone, which, by their impact, disperse the air that is situate betwixt the stone and the iron. When this space is emptied, and a large void is made between them, atoms of the iron, inmiediately darting forward, rush in a body into the vacuum ; and the whole ring of necessity follows, and passes onward with its whole body. For no substance coheres and combines more closely, — having its primary-elements in- timately involved, — than the cold and rough consistence of stout ir<^n.^ It is therefore the less wonderful, if (as is stated) certain of its atoms,^ starting forth in a body from the iron itself cannot rush into the void without the whole ring following ; which it does, and continues to move until it has

enter them; i. e. their own shapes. " Propriam figuram, propri- amque circumscriptionem." Creech, Comp, iv. 651, seq,

^ Moreover.] Ver. 999. Quod auperest,

* Cold and rough consistence of stout iron.] Ver. 1010. Validi ferri natur<B frigidtu horror. Horror means roughness^ as horreo, to he rough. Good translates the verse ludicrously enough, the cold steel, all horror to the touch; and, having picked up from WaKefield's notes Turn ferri rigor y (Virg. Geo. i. 143,) he translates it, at the foot of his page, still more ludicrously, "The steel's chill shudder." What is the shudder of steel? And was steel all horror to Dr. Good's touch?

' Certain of its atoms,] -Ver. 1011, Ex elemerUis corpora, i. e. (Qusdam) corpuscula ex (annuli) corpuscidis.' Lambinus and Lachmann have other readings.

288 LUCRETIUS. b. ti. 1015—1042.

reached the stone itself, and has become fixed to it bj secret attachment. The same process takes place on all sides ; and wherever an empty space is formed, whether at the side qftke iron or above Uy the nearest atoms tend inmiediatelj into the void. For they are impelled by impacts from other surround- ing atoms ; nor can they, of themsdves, rise upwards, or pass away from the magnet^ into the air.

To this \a tohe added another reason why this motion of due atoms may still more certainly take place ; namely, that as soon as the air before the ring has become thinner, and the space between it and the magnet more vacant and open, it immediately happens that the air which is situate at the back of the ring, carries it forward, as it were, and impels it from behind. For the air surrounding all bodies continually strikes upon them; but the air that surrounds the iron drives it for- ward at such times as it approaches the magnet, because the space on one side is empty, and receives it into itself. And this air too, of which I am speaking, subtilly conveying itself, through the numerous pores of the iron, into its amaU. recesses, thrusts and pushes it forward. This substance of the iron, accordingly, is helped ybrtrar^ by this assistance and impulse, as ships and their sails are driven onwards by the wind.

All bodies, moreover, must contain air in their substance, since their consistence is more or less porous, and air sur- rounds and is in contact with every thing. This air, then, which is concealed within the iron, is continually agitated with a restless motion, and thus, doubtless, strikes upon the ring, and moves it, as you may conceive, internally ; and the whole air, within and without, tends in the same direction in which it has once started, and where it has found a vacuum to assist its efforts.

It happens, too, at times, that the substance of the iron re- cedes * from this stone, a>s if accustomed to start back from it, and to follow it, by turns.

* Substance of the iron recedes.] Ver. 1041. " It happens, too, says Lucretius, that the iron at times starts back from tne magnet, being accustomed sometimes to follow it, and sometimes to flee from it : to follow it, when nothing intervenes between the two ; and to flee from it, when brass is interposed." Larnbimis. Gassendi thought that Lucretius may have been acquainted with the diflerence in the two poles of the magnet ; but the poet, says Creech, doubtless had no more knowledge than he exhibits.

B. VI. 1043—1070. LUCRETIUS. 289

Thus have I seen iron rings of Samothrace,* as well as filings of iron, l^ng in brazen basins, thrown into agitation, and start up, when the magnet was applied underneath ; so that it seems desirous to flee away from the load'>stone, when the brass is interposed ; far it is bg the intervention of the brass that so great an aversion is produced ; since, as is evi- dent, when the effluvia of the brass have pre-occupied and filled up the open pores of the iron, the effluvia of the stone follow, and find all parts of the iron full ; and have no way to pass through, as the^ would have had before. They are therefore obliged to strike against the substance of the iron, and to drive it upward, with their own stream ; by which means the magnet repels from itself, and drives away through the brass, that metal, which, without the interference of the brass, it most frequently attracts.

BtU do not wonder, in the cx)nsideration of these subjects, that the effluvia from this stone cannot also repel other sub- stances. For some substances remain unmoved as being sus- tained by their own weight ; of which sort is gold ; and others cannot be repulsed, because they are of a porous consistence, so that the effluvia pass through them unobstructed ; of which kind wood appeal's to be. The substance of iron, however, is placed between these two, so that, when it has admitted certain atoms of the brass^ it is then possible for the stream of particles from the magnet to impel it.

Nor are these mutual affinities of the magnet and iron so unlike the affections of all other substances, but that many instances of the kind occur to me ; instances of bodies which I could mention as remarkably adapted to each other.

In the first place, you see stones cemented only with lime. Wood is joined together with glue, prepared from certain parts of oxen ; and with such strength, that the veins of boards will open in cracks,^ sooner than the seams of ox-glue will relax their fastenings. '

* Iron rings of Samothrace.) Ver. 1043. Samoihracia ferrea. " Iron rings, so called from Samothrace, where they were first made. They were hollow, and were worn because they contained something of the nature of amulets, as a protection against harm." Lambinus. Wakefield refers to Isidore, Orig. xix. 32, and to Har- duin ad Plin. H. N. xxxiii. 6, p. 605.

* Will open in cracks.] Ver. 1069. Vitio hiscant.

290 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 1071—1086.

The juice of the vine is vnlling to mingle with spring water, while heavy pitch, and light olive oij^ refuse to unite with it.

. The purple colour of the murex so blends in one body vdth wool, that it can never be extracted from it ; not even if you should strive to restore the wool to its whiteness with all the waves of the sea ; not even if the whole ocean, with all its floods, should be disposed to cleanse it.

Moreover, one substance only couples gold with gold ; * and brass is united with brass onli/ by pewter.^

How many other facts of this nature is it possible to pro- duce ! But to what purpose would it be ? Neither are such long digressions necessary for you, nor does it become me to bestow so much labour on this one subject ; but it is proper for me to comprise many matters in brief space and in few words.

To conclude^ then, respecting the magnet. Between those bodies, whose textures so mutually correspond,^ that the cavi- ties of this answer to the prominences of that, and the cavities of that to the prominences of this, the best union is evidently formed.* It is possible, also, we may observe, that some bodies may be held united as if with rings and hooks ;^ a mode of

* One 'substance only couples gold with gold.] Ver. 1077. Ilea auro aurum concoptUat una, " The substance is chrysocoUa, that is, cement of gold ; the mode of making which you may learn from Pliny, H. N. xxxiii. 5." Lambisnus. Good says that chrysocolla is *' a mineral sand, found on the shores of the Red Sea, of an elegant green colour, denominated by the natives of modern times tincar, or tincal. The borax, now in use for similar purposes, does not differ essentially from the chrysocolla, when dissolved and crystallized, and is, by some chemists, supposed to be precisely the same."

* Brass is united with brass only by pewter.] Ver. 1078. jErique as plumbo fit uti jungatur ah aJbo, " Pewter is, in the present day, the common solder for copper and brass ; it is generally a combin- ation of tin, lead, and re^ulus of antimony." Good. It would be wrong, he adds, to translate plumfmvii> album, white lead, " for the ceruse, or white lead of modem days, is no solder whatever in metallic preparations."

' Textures so mutually correspond.] Ver. 1083. Ita textures ceci- dehint mutua contrd. "Texturae ita mutuo respondent." Creech.

ControL ceciderunt means correspond, and mutua is adverbially for mtitu^,

* The best union is evidently formed.] Ver. 1085. Inter se jmiciura fuBC optima constat. Lambinus reads horum.

* United as if with rings and hooks.] Ver. 1086. He has before

B. VI. 1087—1112. LUCRETIUS. 291

union which seems to take place, rather than any other, be.- tween the loadstone and iron.

I shall now explain what is the nature and origin of dis- eases/ and how a morbid infection o/* ^e air, suddenly arising, may spread deadly destruction among the race of mankind and the tribes of inferior animals. In the first place, I have already shown ^ that there are in many substances atoms which tend to preserve our life ; and, on the other hand, many must ne- cessarily fly abroad which are productive of disease and death ; and when these have by chance combined, and disordered the air, the air, when in this state, consequently becomes unwhole- some. And all this prevalence and pestilentialness of diseases arise either from without the earth, (as clouds and mists gather in the heaven above us,) or spring, as frequently happens, from the earth itself, when, drenched with immoderate and un- timely rains, and acted upon by fierce rays of the sun, it has contracted a kind of putrescence.

Do you not observe, also, how those who visit any place far from their country and their home, are affected by the change in the air and water ? And this happens, because the substances in those elements greatly differ. For how much must we suppose that the air of the Britons varies from that which is in Egjrpt, where the north pole of the world fails to show itself?^ Or how much must we imagine that that which hangs over Pontus differs from that which stretches over Cadiz, and towards the races of men blackened by the parching heat of the sun?^ These four kinds of air, which we observe to proceed from the four winds and four several quarters of the heaven, we know to be different one from another ; and the complexion and looks of the men, abo, appear to differ widely ; and peculiar diseases seem to affect each individual nation.

shown how the iron may be brought to the loadstone, and he now shows how it may be held attached to it.

^ Origin of diseases.] Ver. 1089. From showing how the atoms of the magnet and iron act on one another, he makes a transition to the action of atoms on the human frame, so as to produce disease.

* I have already shown.] Ver. 1093. See iv. 634 ; v. 897 : vi. 769.

* Where the north pole of the world fails to show itself.] Ver. 1106. Qud mundi claudicat axis. "That is, where the arctic pole, which to us is always visible high in the heaven, is depressed below the hori- zon." Lambinus, *^Claudicat for dejicit." Creech.

* Parching heat e/^Aewm.] Ver. 1108. Percocto colore. See ver. 723.

u 2

292 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 1113—1132.

There is the disease called leprosy,^ which has its rise on the river Nile, in the middle of Egypt, and in no other country.

In Attica the feet^ are affected with the gout; and in the country of Achaia the eyes are afflicted with soreness. Hence various regions are unfavouraUe to various parts and mem- bers ; and this effect the difference of the air produces.

When that air, therefore, which to us w strong poison, puts it- self in motion, and an unwholesome atmosphere begins to spread^ it creeps along, by degrees, like a mist or cloud, and disorders the whole heaven, wherever it advances, and compels it to alter its nature. It happens, accordingly, that when this cor- neptair has at length joined our air, it infects it, and renders it like itself, and unsuitable ybr its.

This new malady and pest, therefore, either suddenly fall* into the water, or penetrates into the very corn, or into other food of men and cattle. Or even, as may be the case, the in- fection remains suspended in the air itself;^ and when, as we breathe, we inhale the air mingled with it, we must neces- sarily absorb those seeck of disease into our body. By a similar process a pestilence often spreads among oxen ; and contagion among dull sheep. Nor does it make any difier-

* Leprosy.] Ver. 1113. ElephoA, Poetically for elephantiasis; a kind of leprosy. " Some assert that this disease affects only those inhabitants of Egypt who drink the water of the Nile; but Celsus, iii. 25, says that though it is almost unknown in Italy, it is in some countries very common.** Creech.

* In Attica the feet, ^c] Ver. 1115* The commentators cite no other authorities for tne prevalence of these diseases in these coun> tries.

■ The infection remains suspended in the air itself.] Ver. 1126*

The all-surreunding heaven, the vital air,

Is big with death. And though the putrid south

Be shut : though no convulsive agony

Shake, from the deep foundations of the world,

Th' imprison'd plagues ; a secret venom oft

Corrupts the air, the water, and the land.

What livid deaths has sad Byzantium seen !

How oft has Cairo, with a mother's woe.

Wept for her slaughter'd sons and lonely streets !

Ev'n Albion, girt with less malignant skies,

Albion, the poison of the gods has drunk.

And felt the stii^ of monsters all her own.

Armstrong y Art of P. H. iii. 521.

B. VI. 1133—1144. LUCRETIUS. 293

ence, whether we go into clunates that are unfavourable to us, and change the atmosphere around us ourselves, or whether nature, of her own accord, brings upon us corrupt air, or any other affection which we are not accustomed to experience, and which, at its first approach, may infect us with disease.

Such a cause of disease, and such deadly vapour in the atmosphere, formerly rendered the fields poisonous throughout the territories of Attica ; * it both dispeopled the roads, and exhausted the city of its inhabitants. For, having its rise in I'emote parts, proceeding from the coasts of Egypt, and having passed through a long tract of air, and over the Hquid plains of the sea^ it at length descended on the people of Pandion,^ and all were then consigned by troops to disease and death.

They first found the head burning with heat,' and the eyes

* Territories of Attica.] Ver. 1187. " Here follows a description of the plague which formerly devastated Athens, drawn from the second Dook of Thucydides, and the third of Hippocrates de Morbis Popularibus. This description Lucretius has ffiven with such effect, that, in the (minion of Macrobius, (Sat. vi. 2,) ne afforded matter for imitation to yir^il, Georg. iii. 478, seq. Certainly Ovid took some- thing from him m the seventh book of the Metamorphoses." Creech,

I should observe that I have omitted here and^ there a conjunc- tion or two, which, though serviceable in Lucretius's verse, woidd but have clogged English prose.

Armstrong, in his Art of Preserving Health, book iii., has a short description of a plag^e,^ in some passages of which he^ has copied Thucydides and Lucretius. I shall notice a few of his imitations.

Diodorus Siculus, xii. 7^ mentions three causes of this plague : a superabundance of rain m the middle of summer, whicn caused miasma to spread through the atmosphere ; the want of proper food, the fruits of the preceding year having been crude and unwhole- some ; and the defection of the Etesian winds, which, in other years, used to temper the heat in summer. Hence, says he, men's bodies contracted an evil habit, from which arose all sorts of burning dis- tempers.

^^ reople of Pandion.] Ver. 1142. Pandion was a king of Athens in its earliest days.

' They first found the head burning with heat] Ver. 1143. Prin- ctpio caput incentum fervore gerebant. This is taken from Thucydide9. This passage, rendered as follows by Le Blanc de Guillet, will af- ford a specimen of his version :

D' abord ces malheureux, k la vue alarm^e, S'offroient, les yeux ardens, et la t6te enflamm6e. Bientdt un sang epais suintoit de leur gosier, Oil des ulc^res noirs, prompts k ae de^Vo^^t^

294 LUCRETIUS. B. n. 1145—1159.

red with an extraordinary brilliancy shed over them. The jaws, also, which looked black within, exuded blood ; and the passage of the voice was clogged and obstructed ^ with ulcers. The tongue, the interpreter of the mind, was covered with drops of gore, and wa^ enfeebled by the disease, slow 'in its motion, and rough to the touch.

Then, when the pestilential influence, descending through the jaws, had filled the chest and gathered in the suffering stomach^ of the patients, all the defences of life at once gave way.

The breath sent forth a fetid odour from the mouth, such as putrid carcasses, cast out upon the earthy emit. The powers of the whole mind, and the whole body, grew languid, as jf on the very threshold of death. On these intolerable suffer- ings was perpetually attendant an anxious distress of mind, and complaints mingled with moanings. A retching,' too,

Interceptant la voix, V 6toaffaient dans la bouche. De r ame appesantie, interpr^te farouche, La langue foible, rude, et n* ayant au'un jeu lent, *Se distulait de m^me en fluide sanglant. Lorsqu' enfin, du gosier, coulant dans la poitrine, Ministres dangereux d' une guerre intestine, Ces poisons, en torrens, la portaient dans le coeur; Les ressorts de la vie, k leur effort vainqueur, ^ S' 6branlaient, s* 6croulaient, tout pr6ts a se dissoudre. Des cadavres infects, pourrissans nans le poudre, D* une haleine empest^e, on exhalait V odeur. L* ame 6toit*sans ressort ; cedant & sa lang^eur, A sa destruction, le corps touchait, comme elle. E quelle anxiety profonde, universelle ! Quels chagrins douloureux, quels long gemissemens M6l6s de cris plaintifs de momens en momens ! Quels sanglots, nuit et jour, irrite ces tortures, Contracte tous les nerfs, les membres, leur jointinres; Dissolve r homme en tier, 6puis6 d^s long temps !

* Clogged and obstructed.] Ver. 1147. Sapta coibcU.

' Stoipach.] Ver. 1151. Cor. " The stomach. The ancient physicians, says the Scholiast on Thucydides, called the stomach Kapdia, or the heart and pain in the stomach, KapSiiayfiOQ,** Creech.

' A retching.] Ver. 1159. SinguUu». The term answering to this, in the description of Thucydides, is XvyK Ktvij, on which Dr. Arnold makes the following observations. " A^v$ is what we call a hiccough, (compare Plato, Sympos. p. 185,) but nere it seems to be almost approaching to what is called * retching ; ' and \^l Ktvn is that inef- fectual retching consequent upon exhaustion, when nothing is actu-

B. Ti. 1169—1172. LUCRETIUS. 295

frequently occurring both by night and by day, convulsed the nerves from time to time, aod, contracting the limbs, rendered the sufferers powerless, exbauating those who were already wearied out wirt pain.

Vet you could not perceive the surface of the body of any one eitenially' inflamed witb at^ extraordinary degree of heal, but rather offering a sensation of gentle warmth to the hand. At the same time, however, all the body looked red with ulcers, as it were, burning in it ;* as it appears when the ery- sipelas spreads over the limbs. But the internal part of the patient was glowing with heat, that penetrated even into the bones ; a fire raged in the stomach, as in a furnace } sq that you could have rendered no garment, however light and thin, of use to the person of any one ; they constantly exposed their limbs, burning with the disease, to the wind and the cold ; and some (Areu) l!Ann«e/tie« into cool rivers, precipitating their bodies naked into the waters. Many, approaching the irinh with

ally brouttht off the Btomach." The espresaion "ineffectual retch- ing," has been adopted by Mr. Dale in his translation of Thucydidee. For \i-fS and ritijuftw the lexicons give nothiog but toibir^ or Aic. £up, but in t}ie»e imsaages of Thucjdides and Lucretius something more is evidently intended.

The ScholianC on Thucjdides says that " there wu a X^yE w\iiptit a* well SB i-iyK uvij, as Hij^ocrates observes'" I have not been able to find this distinction m Hippocrates, but it may be discover- able. From the manner in which Hippocrates often uses the word XiyK, he seems at times to mean more by it than we understand by hiccup. Thus Apbor. vii. 3: 'Bri iptTifXir/i nai d^oXfio! ipi&poi, tatov. De Morb.iii. 19: ivirav ovv irpoirg tal XiyK Spa, cni aVpiiac ^fiB/iSovs drB^iiviry Sua r^ iruUv /liXavat, ofroc dwoSv^atti Itloiiaiat. In the pasaage of Plato to which Arnold lefers, Synipos. c. 13, it means simply hiccup.

Of the translators of Lucretius, Creech, for /rejuwurifwuftw, gives "vexing; sobs;" Busby, "melting momentary sobs;" Good, ''hic- cough deep ; " and the old version, which Good calls Guemier'a, "frequent sobbings." The French tranalatore, Le Blanc de Quillet and Pongerville, give nngloU.

Thick and pantinglv The breath was fetcb'd, and with huge lab'rings heaved.

Amutrong, Art of P. H. iii. SSS-

' Surface of the body externally.] Ver. 1163. Corporit in

' Ulcers, as it were, burning in i(.] Ver. IISS. UkerilmM gwui tnuttii. See on ver. 723,

296 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 1173—1199.

open mouths, hurled themselves headlong down* into the water in wells ; for a parching thirst, raging insatiably, and driying-^Ae//2-to-plunge their bodies into the fioody made vast showers seem only as small drops.

Nor was there any intermission of the malady ; the bodies of men lay exhausted ; medicine spoke in low tones with a secret dread ;^ so incessantly did the patients roll their eyes, which remained wide open, burning with disease, and un- visited by sleep. Many other signs of death at the same time showed themselves ; the mind was distracted with anguish and dread ; the brow was gloomy ; the look wild and fierce ; the ears disturbed and filled with noises ; the breathing was either fast, or thick, or drawn but seldom ; there was a moist dew of perspiration shining upon the neck ; the saliva was thin^ scanty, and tinged with the colour of saffron; it was also salt, and expelled with difficulty from the hoarse throat by coughing. Li the hand, the nerves contracted ; and the whole arm shook. From the feet a coldness rose quickly, yc^ gradually,^ over the body ; the nostrils, towards the closing hour of life, were compressed ; the point of the nose was sbarp ; the eyes were hollow ; the temples sunk ; the skin cold and hard; a distortion overspreading the mouth; the forehead tense and prominent ; and, not long after these appearances^ the limbs lay stretched in rigid death ; and for the most part, when the eighth light of the sun shone, or, at farthest, at his ninth rising, they yielded up their life.

Of which sufferers, if any one^br a time escaped death, (as was possible, either by reason of the foul ulcers breaking, or by means of a black discharge from the intestines,) yet con-

* Hurled themselves — down.] Ver. 1178. AUiinciderunt, Fell from on high, from the high brink.

' Medicine spoke in low tones with a secret dread.] Ver. 1 178. Mu88aba;t tcicito medicina timore*

The Salutary Art

Was mute ; and, startled at the new disease, In fearful whispers hopeless omens ^ave.

Armstrong, Art of Preservmg Health, book iii.

Silius Italicus, in his description of the plague that happened in Sicily, during the siege of Syracuse by Marcellus, has ** Succubuit Medicina malis." xiv. 669.

' Rose quickly, yet gradually.] Ver. 1191. MintUatim succedere non dubitabat.

B. VI. 1200-1220. LUCRETIUS. 297

sumption and destruction awaited him at last ; or, as was often the case, an excessive flux of corrupt blood, attended with violent pains in the head, issued from the obstructed nostrils ; and, by this outlet, the whole strength and substance of the man passed awaj.

He, moreover, who had escaped this violent flux of foul blood, was not certain wholly to recover; for still the disease was readj-to-pass into his nerves and joints, and into the very genial organs of the body. And of those who suffered thus, some, fearing the gates of death, continued to live, though deprived by the steel of the virile part ; and some, though without hands and feet, and though they lost their eyes, yet persisted-to-renudn in life; so strong a dr^id of death had taken possession of them. Upon some, too, came forgetfulness ^ of all things, so that they knew not even themselves.

And though numerous corpses, heaped upon corpses, lay extended over the ground, yet the tribes of birds, and of wild beasts, either ran off to a distance, to avoid the repulsive stench, or, after having tasted the fleshy sickened with instant death.

But, indeed, during those days, scarcely any bird appeared in the shy; nor did the destructive tribes of savage beasts leave the woods during the nights. Most of them suflered from the disease, and died ; the faithful spirit of the dog,^ espe->

* Upon some, too, came forgetfulness, 4^.] Ver. 1210.

A wild delirium came ; their weeping friends Were strangers now, and this no home of theirs. Harassed with toil on toil, the sinking powers Lay prostrate and o'erthrown ; a ponderous sleep Wrapt all the senses up ; they slept and died.

Amitnmg, Art of P. H. iii. 562. ' The faithful spuit of the dog.] Ver. 1220. Fida eanum vi$. Compare Canum permiua vis, iv. 683. Thucydides, ii. 50, alludes to the eifect of the disease on the dogs ; and Homer makes the infec- tion of his plague seize on doppi among the first :

On mules and dogs th' infection first began. Pope. So VirgU, Geo. iii. 496:

Hinc canibus blandis rabies venit.

Then on bland dogs the madd'ning influence felL And so Siiius Italicua, xiy. 594 :

Vim primi sensere canes.

The dogs were first the dire disease to feel.

298 LUCRETIUS. B. VI. 1221—1243.

ciallj, stretched along all the streets, unwillingly relinquished life ; the force of the disease, however, wrested the vital power from his limbs.

Funerals, unattended and solitary, were eagerly hurried over.^ Nor was there any certain mode of cure common and efficient for all. For that which had secured to one the privi- lege of breathing the vital air,^ and of beholding the regions of the sky, was mere poison to others, and hastened their death.

But that which, in these circumstances, was pre-eminently deplorable and wretched, was, that when any one found him- self seized with the pestilence, he lay down, as if he were con- denmed^ to death, sunk in spirit, andYnth a despairing heart,^ thinking anlt/ of death, and gave up the ghost on the same spot on which he fell.

At no time, however, did the contagion of the insatiable disease cease to spread itself from one man to another, as a murrain is disseminated Among woolly sheep and horned cattle. And this circumstance, even above all others, heaped death upon death. For on those, who shrunk from visiting their sickfriends, fatal neglect soon took vengeance, (as having been too fond of life and too apprehensive of death,) causing ^em to perish by a squalid and miserable end, deserted bg their rela- tives, and destitute of relief. But those who had been ready to give assistance, fell into the maladg from infection, and by reason of the duty which shame, and the moving entreaties of

* Were eagerly hurried over.] Ver. 1224, Hapi certahant. It would seem either that this verse is out of its place, or that the passaee is defective.

' Tne privilege of breathing the vital air.] Ver. 1226. VUaJes acris auras Volvere in ore licere,

' As if he were condemned.] Ver. 1231. Damnatus ut esset. " Ut for quasi,** Faber.

* Sunk in spirit, and with a despairing heart.] Ver. 1232.

Of every hope deprived ; Fatigued with vain resources ; and subdued With woes resistless and enfeebling fear : Passive they sunk beneath the weighty blow. Nothing but lamentable sounds was heard» Nor aught was seen but ghastly vie^ys of death. Infectious horror ran from face to face, And pale despair.

B. VI. 1244—1266. lUCRETIUS. 299

the sufferers, mingled with sounds of reproach,^ compelled them to undergo. The most excellent characters^ accordingly, incurred this kind of death most /recently.

Those, moreover, who strove to bury the multitude of their dead, one after another,^ returned home overcome with weep- ing and mourning. Hence men were stretched on their beds in great numbers, through sorrow and despondency ; nor Could any one be found, whom, in such a time of calamity^ neither disease, nor death, nor moumingybr the loss offriendsy had af- fected.

Besides, as the pestilence now spread, every shepherd and herdsman,' as well as every stout driver of the crboked plough, languished under the infection; their bodies lay cooped up within their narrow huts, consigned to death from the effects o/'want and disease. You might have seen the dead corpses of parents stretched on their dead children, and sometimes, again, children expiring on the bodies of their mothers and fathers.

And this affliction was brought, in no small portion, into the city from the country ; affliction which a sick and in- fected multitude of rustics, flocking together from all parts, introduced. They crowded all places of reception and of shelter ; for which reason, as they were thus crammed toge- ther, death the more j easily strewed them in heaps by the force of contagion.

Many bodies, from the effects o/* thirst, lay stretched at the public conduits,^ prostrate and extended along the road, their breath having been stopped by too great indulgence in the deliciousness of the water. And every where, along the open and public roads,^ you might have seen powerless lunbs, with

^ Mingled with sounds of reproach.] Ver. 1244. MixtA voce que^ reUB, Tne voice of complaint or reproach being mixed with en- treaties.

* One after another.] Ver. 1246. Inqtte aUia alium, .**Alterum post alterum.'* Wakefield. One among others.

' Stretched at the public conduits.] Ver. 1264. Silanos ad aqua- rum strata, Silanus was a conduit or water-pipe, or other orifice for a stream ; a word of uncertain derivation. Gessner thinks that heads of the Tullii, Marsy»,,Silani, ^c, were fixed over the conduits, which were accordingly named from them.

* Along the open and public roads.] Ver. 1266. Per pqpuU loca prompta viaaque.

300 LUCRETIUS. B,vi. 1267—1277.

half-dead bodies of men, horrible with squalor, covered with rags, and perishing for want of dressing ; there was skin only on the bones, ^ which was itself now almost sunk away, by rea- son of disease of the viscera, and overspreading filth.

All the sacred temples of the gods, moreover, death had now crowded with carcasses; all the shrines of the divini- ties, in every part, stood filled with corpses ; for these were places which the attendants of the temples had thronged with strangers. Nor, indeed^ was the worship of the gods, or their divinities, much regarded; for present suffering overcame religious considerations.

Nor was the custom of sepulture,^ with which that pious

* Skin only on the bones, ^c.] Ver. 1269.

Pellji super ossibus una, Visceribus tetris prope jam sordique sepulta.

I have rendered aepuUa " sunk away," endeavouring to give some sense to the passage as it stands in Wakefield and Forbiger. ** Pelle," says Wakefield, " visceribus inustis consolidatisque obrut& et deperdit&." But in truth visccribw makes the passage nonsense; all ottier editors, except Wakefield, Forbiger, and Eichstadt, have Ulceribus,

' Nor was the custom of sepulture, 4r^.] Ver. 1277. " In these last verses the poet relates, that the Athenians were not content with polluting tneir holy places with dead bodies, but transgressed likewise all their laws concerning funerals, (which they had till then observed,) and buried their dead as they could, wherever they found room. * * * By the unanimous* consent of all authors, the Athenians were of all people the most ceremonious in the funerals of their dead, whom they honoured even to the highest superstition. If any one neglected to pay the rites of burial to those who were slain in war, he was punished with death ; and the pomp and ex- pense of funerals grew at length to such excess among them, that Solon was forced to put a stop to it by laws ; but when this plague was raging at Athens, no funeral rites were observed ; — as the his- torian, from whom our poet has taken this passage, relates." Com- mentaryon Creeches TVanakUion,

Qualis Erechthonios pestis populata colonos, Extulit antiquas per rimera pacis Athenas, Alter in alterius iabens cum fata ruebat ; Nee locus erat artis medics : nee vota valebant ; Cesserat officium morbis, et funera deerant ^ Mortibus, et lacrymse ; fessus defecerat ignis, Et coacervatis ardebant corpora membris.

Manilius, i. 882.

Through Erecthean lands when that plague stray 'd, And Athens waste by peaceful funerals laid ;

B. VI. 1278—1285. LUCRETIUS. 301

people had always been accustomed to bury,* observed longer in the city. For the whole people, in perturbation, ran hither and thither ;2 and each in his sorrow buried his friend accord- ing to his means.

Dire poverty, too, with sudden impulse, prompted men to many impious deeds; for they placed their relatives, with loud outcries, on the funeral piles raised for others,' and ap- plied torches to them; often even quarrelling, with great bloodshed, rather than the bodies should be left unconsumed.

When each contracted other's death ; then art No cure could find, nor prayers could help impart ; Care to the sick, and funerals to the dead, Ev'n tears were wantine; those no mourners shed ; The wearied flame did from its office cease ; Heaps of fired bones bumtthe dead carcasses.

Sir Edward Sherburne,

* Had — ^been accustomed to bury.] Ver. 1278. Consuerat humart. The sense requires humarcy which Creech gives in his interpretation. The people had been accustomed to bury (their dead), not to be bu- ried,

' Ran hither and thither.) Ver. 1279. Repedabat: which Wake- field interprets discuraitahat Lambinus and Creech, whom Lach- mann follows, ^ve irepidc^at,

' Funeral piles raised for others.} Ver. 1282. Aliena rogorum— extructa.

Thus abruptly end4 the description of the plague, and the poem of Lucretius.

Much of the account of the pestilence, as is observed above, is taken from Thucydides. I have not Uioup^ht it necessary to trans- cribe in the notes the passages of Thucydides which Lucretius imi- tates ; the English reader may refer to the whole description in Mr. Dale's Thucydides; and the scholar has ample references in Lam- binus and Creech.

Procopius has given a full account of the plague which began to spread tnrough the world, and devastated the city of Constantinople, in the reign of Justinian ; an account in which Gibbon says that he " has emulated the skill and diligence of Thucydides in his descrip- tion of the plague at Athens." It is observable that he represents it, like that of Athens, as takings its rise from Egypt. " Ethiopia and Egypt," says Gibbon, (ch. xliii. subjin.y) "have been stigmatized, in every age, as the gnreat source and seminary of the plague. In a damp, hot, stagnating air, this African fever is generated from the putrefaction of animal substances, and especially from the swarms of locusts, not less destructive to mankind in their death than in their lives."

The assertion of Macrobius, (Sat. vi. 2,) that Virgil took the prin-

302 LUCRETIUS.

Gtipal colouring and features of his description of a pestilence among- cattle (Georg. iii. 478 — 566) from Lucretius 's picture of the Athenian

Slague, rests on very slight foundation. Virgil may have been in- uced to write his description in emulation of that of Lucretius ; but very little that is actually copied will be found in it. In Ovid's description of the same Athenian pestilence, (Metam. vii. 523 — 613,) the attentive reader will find far more marks of imitation.

Silius Italicus (xiv. 680 — 617) also, like his s^reat predecessors, g^ves a description of the plajg^e which attacked the Koman army at the siege of Syracuse. Many of his points are taken from Lu- cretius, as in the following passage :

Helpless the victims sunk ; the tonjp^e was parched ; Cold perspiration o'er the trembling frame Flowed copious ; while the tumid throat forbade The food's half-forced descent ; a vehement cough Shook the vexed lungs ; and from the arid mouth Fumed fiery breath, that ceaseless thirst proclaimed. The eyes, that scarce th' oppressive li^ht could bear. Sunk in aeep ghastly hollows by the side Of the sharp nose ; foul bile, commixed with blood, Forth gushes from the stomach ; the weak limbs, Fleshless and wasted, shrink to skin and bone.

The general features of pestilential destruction are also carefully detailed by Seneca in his (Edipus, Act i.

Thomson has a passage on tne effects of pestilence* Summer, ver. 1026, seq.

Boccacio, in his descrii)tion of the plague at Florence, seems to have had Thucydides in view.

If the reader wish to see more accounts of pestilence, in imagin- ative writers, he may consult Defoe's "History of the Plague;'* Wilson's "City of the Plague :" Brockden Brown's "Arthur Mer- vyn ;" Horace Smith's " Bramoletve House ;" Mrs, Shelley's " Last Man;" Ainsworth's " Old Saint taul's."

LUCEETIUS

ov

THE NATURE OF THINGS,

METRICALLY T&ANSLATEO

BY JOHN MASON GOOD.

BOOK I.

Fabent of Rome ! by gods and men beloved, Benignant Venus ! thou, the sail-clad main And fruitful earth, as round the seasons roll, With life who swellest, for by thee all live. And, living, hail the cheerful light of day : — 5

Thee, goddess, at thy glad approach, the winds, The tempests fly : dedalian Earth to thee Pours forth her sweetest flowerets : Ocean laughs, And the blue heavens in cloudless splendour decked. For, when the Spring first opes her frolic eye, 10

And genial zephyrs long locked up respire, Thee, goddess, then, th' aerial birds confess, To rapture stung through every shivering plume : Thee, the wild herds ; hence, o'er the joyous glebe Bounding at large; or, with undaunted chest, 15

Stemming the torrent tides. Through all that lives So, by thy charms, thy blandishments o'erpowered. Springs the warm wish thy footsteps to pursue : Till through the seas, the mountains, and the floods. The verdant meads, and woodlands filled with song, 20 Spurred by desire each palpitating tribe Hastes, at thy shrine, to plant the future race.

Since, then, with universal sway thou rul'st. And thou alone ; nor aught without thee springs.

304 LUCRETIUS. BOOK I.

Aught gay or lovely ; thee I woo to guide 25

Aright my flowing song, that aims to paint

To Memmius' view the essences op things :

Memmius, my friend, by thee, from earliest youth,

O goddess ! led, and trained to every grace.

Then, O, vouchsafe thy favour, power divine ! 30

And with immortal eloquence inspire.

Quell, too, the fury of the hostile world,

And lull to peace, that all the strain may hear.

For peace is thine : on thy soft bosom he,

The warlike field who sways, almighty Maks, 35

Struck by triumphant Love's eternal wound.

Reclines full frequent : with uplifted gaze

On thee he feeds his longing, lingering eyes.

And all his soul hangs quivering from thy lips.

O ! while thine arms in fond embraces clasp 40

His panting members, sovereign of the heart !

Ope thy bland voice, and intercede for Rome.

For, while th' unsheathed sword is brandished, vain

And all unequal is the poet's song ;

And vain th' attempt to claim his patron's ear. 45

Son of the Memmu ! thou, benignant, too, Freed from all cares, with vacant ear attend ; Nor turn, contemptuous, ere the truths I sing. For thee first harmonized, are full perceived. Lo ! to thy view I spread the rise of things ; 50

Unfold th' immortals, and their blest abodes : How Nature all creates, sustains, matures, And how, at length, dissolves ; what forms the mass, Termed by the learned. Matter, Seeds of Things, And generative Atoms, or, at times, 55

Atoms primordial, as hence all proceeds.

Far, far from mortals, and their vain concerns. In peace perpetual dwell th' immortal gods : Each self-dependent, and from human wants Estranged for ever. There, nor pain pervades, 60

Nor danger threatens ; every passion sleeps ; Vice no revenge, no rapture virtue prompts.

Not thus mankind. Them long the tyrant power Of Superstition swayed, uplifting proud Her head to heaven, and with horrific limbs 65

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OF THINGa. 305

Brooding o'er earth ; till he, the man of Greece,

Auspicious rose, who first the combat dared.

And broke in twain the monster's iron rod.

No thunder him, no fell revenge pursued

Of heaven incensed, or deities in arms. 70

Urged rather, hence, with more determined soul.

To burst through Nature's portals, from the crowd

With jealous caution closed ; the flaming walls

Of heaven to scale, and dart his dauntless eye,

Till the vast whole beneath him stood displayed. 75

Hence taught he us, triumphant, what might spring.

And what forbear : what powers inherent lurk.

And where their bounds and issues. And, hence, we,

Triumphant too, o'er Superstition rise,

Contemn her terrors, and unfold the heavens. 80

Nor deem the truths Philosophy reveals Corrupt the mind, or prompt to impious deeds. No : Superstition may, and nought so soon. But Wisdom never. Superstition 'twas Urged the fell Grecian chiefs, with virgin blood, 85

To stain the virgin altar. Barbarous deed ! And fatal to their laurels ! AuLis saw. For there Diana reigns, th' unholy rite. Around she looked ; the pride of Grecian maids, The lovely Iphigenia, round she looked, — 90

Her lavish tresses, spuming still the bond Of sacred fillet, flaunting o'er her cheeks, — And sought, in vain, protection. She surveyed Near her, her sad, sad sire ; th' officious priests Repentant half, and hiding their keen steel, 95

And crowds of gazers weeping as they viewed. Dumb with alarm, with supplicating knee. And lifted eye, she sought compassion still ; Fruitless and unavailing : vain her youth. Her innocence, and beauty ; vain the boast 100

Of regal birth ; and vain that first herself Lisped the dear name of Father, eldest bom. Forced from her suppliant posture, straight she viewed The altar full prepared : not there to blend Connubial vows, and light the bridal torch ; 105

But, at the moment when mature in charms.

306 LUCRETIUS. BOOK I.

While Hymen called aload, to fall, e'en then,

A father's victim, and the price to pay

Of Grecian navies, favoured thus with gales. —

Such are the crimes that Superstition prompts ! 110

And dost thou still resist us ? trusting still The fearful tale by priests and poets told ? — I, too, could feign such fables ; and combine As true to fact, and of as potent spell. To freeze thy blood, and harrow every nerve. — 115

Nor wrong th' attempt. Were mortal man assured Eternal death would close this life of woe. And nought remain of curse beyond the grave, E'en then religion half its force would lose ; Vice no alarm, and virtue feel no hope. 120

But, whilst the converse frights him, man will dread Eternal pain, and flee from impious deeds. Yet doubtful is the doctrine, and unknown Whether, co-eval with th' external frame. The soul first lives, when lives the body first, 125

Or boasts a date anterior : whether doomed To common ruin, and one common grave. Or through the gloomy shades, the lakes, the caves, Of Erebus to wander : or, perchance, As Ennius taught, immortal bard, whose brows 1 30

Unfading laurels bound, and still whose verse All Rome recites, entranced — perchance condemned The various tribes of brutes, with ray divine. To animate and quicken : though the bard. In deathless melody, has elsewhere sung 1 35

Of AcHERUSiAN temples, where, nor soul Nor body dwells, but images of men. Mysterious shaped ; in wondrous measure wan. Here Homer's spectre roamed, of endless fame Possest : his briny tears the bard surveyed, 1 40

And drank the dulcet precepts from his lips.

Such are the various creeds of men. And hence The philosophic sage is called t' explain. Not the mere phases of the heavens alone. The sun's bright path, the moon's perpetual change, 145 And powers of earth productive, but to point. In terms appropriate, the dissevering lines

BOOK I. ON THE NATUBE OP THINGS. 307

'Twixt mind and brutal life ; and prove precise Whence spring those shadowy forms, which, e'en in hours Wakeful and calm, but chief when dreams molest, 150

Or dire disease, we see, or think we^ see, Though the dank grave have long their bones inhumed.

Tet not unknown to me how hard the task Such deep obscurities of Greece t' unfold In Latin numbers ; to combine new terms, 155

And strive with all our poverty of tongue. — But such thy virtue, and the friendship pure My bosom bears, that arduous task I dare ; And yield the sleepless night, in hope to cull Some happy phrase, some wdl-selected verse, 160

Meet for the subject ; to dispel each shade, And bid the mystic doctrine hail the day. For shades there are, and terrors of the soul. The day can ne'er disperse, though blazing strong With all the sun's bright javelins. These alone 165

To Nature yield, and Reason ; and, combined, This is the precept they for ever teach,

That NOUGHT PROM NOUGHT BY POWER DIVINE HAS RISEN.

But the blind fear, the superstition vain Of mortals uninformed, when spring, perchance, 170

In heaven above, or earth's sublunar scene. Events to them impervious, instant deem Some power supernal present, and employed. — Admit this truth, that nought prom nothing springs. And all is clear. Developed, then, we trace, 175

Through Nature's boundless realm, the rise of things. Their modes, and powers innate ; nor need from heaven Some god's descent to rule each rising fact.

Could things from nought proceed, then whence the use Of generative atoms, binding strong 180

Kinds to their kinds perpetual ? Man himself Might spring from ocean ; from promiscuous earth The finny race, or feathery tribes of heaven : Prone down the skies the bellowing herds might bound. Or frisk from cloud to cloud: while flocks, and beasts 185 Pierce and most savage, undefined in birth. The field or forest might alike display. Each tree, inconstant to our hopes, would bend

x2

308 LUCRETIUS. BOOK I.

With foreign frui't : and all things all things yield. Whence but from elemental seeds that act 190

With trath, and power precise, can causes spring Powerful and true themselves ? But grant such seeds, And all, as now, through Nature's wide domain. In time predicted, and predicted place, Must meet the day concordant ; must assume 195

The form innately stampt, and prove alone Why all from all things never can proceed.

Whence does the balmy rose possess the spring ? The yellow grain the summer? or, the vine With purple clusters, cheer th' autumnal hours ? 200

Whence, true to time, if such primordial seeds Act not harmonious, can aught here surveyed, Aught in its season, rear its tender form, And the glad earth protrude it to the day ? But, if from nought things rise, then each alike, 205

In every spot, at every varying mon'th, Must spring discordant ; void of primal seeds To check all union till th' allotted hour.

Nor space for growth would then be needful : all Springing from nought, and still from nought supplied. 210 The puny babe would start abrupt to man ; And trees umbrageous, crowned with fruit mature. Burst, instant, from the greensward. But such facts Each day opposes ; and, opposing, proves That all things gradual swell from seeds defined, 215

Of race and rank observant, and intent T' evince th' appropriate matter whence they thrive.

But matter thus appropriate, or e'en space For growth mature, form not the whole required. The timely shower from heaven must add benign 220

Its influence too, ere yet the teeming earth Emit her joyous produce ; or, the ranks Of man and reptile, thence alone sustained. May spring to life, and propagate their kinds. Say rather, then, in much that meets the view, 225

That various powers combine, concordant all, Common and elemental, as in words Such elemental letters, — than contend. That void of genial atoms, aught exists.

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 309

Why formed not Nature man with ample powers 230 To fathom, with his feet, th' unbottomed main ? To root up mountains with his mighty hands ? 'Or live o'er lapsing ages victor still ? Why, but because primordial matter, fixt . And limited in act, to all is dealt 235

Of things created, whence their forms expand. And hence again we learn, and prove express. Nought springs from nought, and that, from seeds precise, Whate'er is formed must meet th' ethereal day.

Mark how the cultured soil the soil excels 240

Uncultured, richer in autumnal fruits. Here, too, the latent principle of things, Freed by the plough, the fertile glebe that turns And subjugates the sod, exert their power, And swell the harvest : else, spontaneous, all 245

Would still ascend by labour unimproved.

And as from nought the genial seeds of things Can never rise, so Nature that dissolves Their varying forms, to nought can ne'er reduce.

Were things destructible throughout, then all 250

Abrupt would perish, passing from the sight ; Nor foreign force be wanting to disjoin Their vital parts, or break th' essential bond. But since, from seeds eternal all things rise. Till force like this prevail, vdth sudden stroke 255

Crushing the living substance, or within Deep entering each interstice, to dissolve. All active, Nature no destruction views.

Were time the total to destroy of all By age decayed, — say whence could Venus' self 260

The ranks renew of animated life ? Or, if renewed, whence earth's dedalian power Draw the meet foods to nurture, and mature ? Whence springs and rivers, with perpetual course, The deep supply ? or, ether feed the stars ? 265

Whate'er could perish, ever-during time, And rolling ages, must have long destroy 'd. But if, through rolling ages, and the lapse Of ever-during time, stiU firm at base. Material things have stood, then must that base 270

310 LUCHKTIUS. BOOK I.

Exist immortal, and the fates defj.

Thus, too, the same efficient force applied Alike must all things rupture, if, within. No substance dwelled eternal to maintain In close, and closer, links their varying bonds. 275

E'en the least touch, — for every cause alike Must break their textures, equal in effect. If no imperishable power opposed, — E'en touch were then irrevocable death. But since, with varying strength, the seeds within 280

Adhere, of form precise, and prove express Their origin eternal, — free from ill. And undivided must those forms endure. Till some superior force the compact cleave. Thus things to nought dissolve not ; but, subdued, 285 Alone return to elemental seeds.

When, on the bosom of maternal Earth, His showers redundant genial Ether pours. The dulcet drops seem lost : but harvests rise. Jocund and lovely ; and, with foliage fresh, 290

Smiles every tree, and bends beneath its fruit. Hence man and beast are nourished ; hence overflow Our joyous streets with crowds of frolic youth ; And with fresh songs th' umbrageous groves resound. Hence the herds fatten, and repose at ease, 295

O'er the gay meadows, their unwieldy forms ; While from each full-distended udder drops The candid milk spontaneous ; and hence, too. With tottering footsteps, o'er the tender grass. Gambol their wanton young, each little heart 300

Quivering beneath the genuine nectar quaffed.

So nought can perish, that the sight surveys. With utter death ; but Nature still renews Each from the other, nor can form afresh One substance, till another be destroyed. 305

But come, my friend, and, since the muse has sung Things cannot spring from, or return to nought. Lest thou should'st urge, still sceptic, that no eye Their generative atoms e'er has traced ; Mark in what scenes thyself must own, perforce, 310

Still atoms dwell, though viewless still to sense.

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 311

And, first, th' excited wind torments the deep ; Wrecks the tough bark, and tears the shivering clouds : Now, with wide whirlwind, prostrating alike O'er the waste champaign, trees, and bending blade ; 315 And now, perchance, with forest-rending force. Rocking the mighty mountains on their base. So vast its fury ! — But that fury flows Alone from viewless atoms, that, combined, Thus form the fierce tornado, raging wild 320

O'er heaven, and earth, and ocean's dread domain. As when a river, down its verdant banks Soft-gliding, sudden from the mountains round Swells with the rushing rain — the placid stream AU limit loses, and, with furious force, 325

In its resistless tide, bears down, at once. Shrubs, shattered trees, and bridges, weak alike Before the tumbling torrent : such its power ! — Loud roars the raging flood, and triumphs still. O'er rocks, and mounds, and all that else contends. 330 So roars th' enraged wind : so, like a flood. Where'er it aims, before its mighty tide. Sweeps all created things : or round, and round. In its vast vortex curls their tortured forms. — Though viewless, then, the matter thus that acts, 335

Still there is matter : and, to Reason's ken, Conspicuous as the visual texture traced In the wild wave that emulates its strength.

Next, what keen eye e'er followed, in their course. The light- winged odoubs ? or developed clear 340

The mystic forms of cold, or heat intense ? Or sound through ether fleeting ? — ^yet, though far From human sight removed, by all confessed Alike material ; since alike the sense They touch impulsive ; and since nought can touch 345 But matter ; or, in turn, be touched itself.

Thus, too, the garment that along the shore, Lashed by the main, imbibes the briny dew. Dries in the sunbeam : but, alike unseen, Falls the moist ether, or again flies off 350

£ntire, abhorrent of the red-eyed noon*

312 LUCRETIUS. BOOK I.

So fine the attenuated spray that floats In the pure breeze ; so fugitive to sight.

A thousand proofs spring up. The ring that decks The fair one's finger, by revolving years, 355

Wastes imperceptibly. The dropping shower Scoops the rough rock. The plough's attempered share Decays : and the thick pressure of the crowd. Incessant passing, wears the stone-paved street. E'en the gigantic forms of solid brass, 360

Placed at our portals, from the frequent touch Of devotees and strangers, now display The right hand lessened of its proper bulk. — All lose, we view, by friction, their extent ; But, in what time, what particles they lose, 365

This envious Nature from our view conceals.

Thus, too, both Time and Nature give to things A gradual growth : but never yet the sight That gradual growth explored ; nor marked their fall, Still gradual too, by age, or sure decay : 370

Nor traced what portions of incumbent rock. Loaded with brine, the caustic wave dissolves. — So fine the particles that form the world.

Yet not corporeal is the whole produced By Nature. In created things exists, 375

Search where thou wilt, an incorporeal void. This mark, and half philosophy is thine. Doubtful no longer shalt thou wander : taught Th' entire of things, and by our verse convinced. And know this void is space untouched and pure. 380

Were space like this vouchsafed not, nought could move : Corporeal forms would still resist, and strive With forms corporeal, nor consent to jrield ; While the great progress of creation ceased. But what more clear in earth or heaven sublime, 385

Or the vast ocean, than, in various modes, That various matter moves ? which, but for space, 'Twere vain t' expect: and vainer yet to look For procreative power, educing still Kinds from their kinds through all revolving time. 390

True, things are solid deemed : but know that those

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 313

Deemed so the most are rare and unconjoined.

From rocks, and caves, translucent lymph distils,

And, from the tough bark, drops the healing balm.

The genial meal, with mystic power, pervades 395

Each avenue of life ; and the grove swells,

And yields its various fruit, sustained alone

From the pure food propelled through root and branch.

Sound pierces marble ; through reclusest walls

The bosom-tale transmits : and the keen frost 400

E'en to the marrow winds^ its sinuous way. —

Destroy all vacuum, then, close every pore,

And, if thou canst, for such events account.

Say, why of equal bulk, in equal scale. Are things oft found unequal in their poise ? 405

O'er the light wool the grosser lead prevails With giant force. But were th' amount alike Of matter each contained, alike the weight Would prove perpetual : for, from matter sole, Flows weight, and moment, ever prone to earth : 410

While vacant space nor weight nor moment knows. Where things surpoise, then, though of equal bulk. There matter most resides : but where ascends The beam sublime, the rising substance holds A smaller share, and larger leaves the void. 415

Hence draws the sage his creed : in all produced Finds vacuum still, and calls that vacuum space.

But some there are such doctrines who deny : And urge in proof, deceptive, that we wave Not through imagined pores admits the race 420

With glitt'ring scales — ^but yields at once, and opes The liquid path ; and occupies, in turn. The space behind the aureat fish deserts. Thus, too, that all things act : the spot possessed Exchanging sole, while each continues full. 425

Believe them not. K nought of space the wave Give to its gilded tenants, how, resolve, Feel they the power t' advance ? and if t' advance They know not, how can, next, the wave thus yield ? — Or matter ne'er can move, then, or within 430

Some VOID must mix through all its varjring forms, Whence springs alone the power of motion first.

314 LUCRETroS. BOOK I.

When force mechanic severs, and, abrupt, Drives two broad bodies distant, quick between Flows the light air, and fills the vacuum formed. 435

But ne'er so rapid can the light air flow As to forbid all void ; since, step by step. It still must rush till the whole space be closed. ' Nor credit those who urge such bodies sole Can part because the liquid air, compress'd 440

To closer texture, gives the needed space. Such feeble reas'ners, in opposing void, A double void confess : for, first, perforce, A void they own, where void was none before. Betwixt the substance severed ; and bring next 445

A proof surmountless that the air itself Thronged with a prior void : else how, to bounds Of closer texture, could it e'er contract ?

A thousand facts crowd round me : to the same Converging all. But ample these, I ween, 450

Though but the footsteps of the mighty whole, To fix thy faith, and guide thee to the rest. For as the hound, when once the tainted dew His nostrils taste, pursues the vagrant fox O'er hills, and dales, and drags him from his lair ; 455

So may'st thou trace from fact associate fact, i

Through every maze, through every doubtful shade. Till Truth's bright form, at length, thy labours crown.

Nor tardy be the toil, for much remains. So oft, O Memmius ! from the sacred fount 460

By wisdom fed, so largely have I drank, And such the dulcet doctrines yet untold, That age may first unman us, and break down The purple gates of life, ere the bold muse Exhaust the boundless subject. Haste we, then, 465

Each pulse is precious, haste we to proceed.

Know, then, th' entire op nature sole consists Of SPACE and body : this the substance moved. And that the area of its motive power. That there is body, every sense we boast 470

Demonstrates strong : and, if we trust not sense. Source of all science, then the mind itself. Perplexed and hopeless, must still wander on.

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 315

In reasoning lost, to every doubt a prey.

And were not space, were vacuum not allowed, 47o

In nought could bodies, then, their powers display

Of various action : each compressing each

To motion fatal, as already sung.

Nor is there aught such vacant space besides. And MATTER close-embodied, can be traced 480

A substance forming discrepant from each. Search where thou wilt, whatever occurs to view. Of bulk minute, or large, though e'en its form Change with the hour, if tangible it prove. This stamps it matter, and forbids all doubt. 4S6

But if intangible, throughout if still To matter pervious, act where'er it may, 'Tis then void space, and can be nought besides.

All things, moreo'er, a substance must evince Acting, or suffering act ; or, form the sphere 490

In which to act or suffer. But to act. Or suffer action, must be matter's sole ; While SPACE alone that needed sphere admits.

Nought, then, 'twixt space and matter can subsist Of INTERMEDIATE SUBSTANCE : nought be traced 495

By keenest efforts of th' external sense, Or by the meditating mind deduced. All else we meet with or conceive but these Are mere conjunctions, or events attached. And know the learned by conjunctions name 500

Those powers in each perpetual that inhere. And ne'er can part till void or matter cease* Thus heat to fire, fluidity to streams. Weight to the rock, to all of matter touch. And want of touch to space. While Discord, Peace, 505 Oppression, Freedom, Poverty, and Wealth, And aught that else, of matter, and of space Lives independent, though engendered hence. Are termed, and justly, by the wise events.

E'en TIME, that measures all things, of itself 5 10

Exists not ; from the mind alone produced. As, link by link, contemplating minute. Things present, past, or future : for, of time.

316 LUCRETIUS. BOOK I.

From these disjoined, in motion, or at rest

Tranquil and still, what mortal can conceive? 515

Thus spring events to birth. The rape renowned Of beauteous Helen, or the fall of Troy, Though deemed existences, yet of themselves Existed never : on material things.

On place and persons acting, or coerced, 520

Alone dependent. These revolving years Have long th' irrevocable doom assigned: And rape and conquest, as events that claimed From these existence, now exist no more. —

Had ne'er been formed the matter, or the space, 525

Whose power conjunctive gave those scenes to be ; No fire had e'er, from lovely Helen's eyes, Glanced through the bosom of the Trojan youth, And kindled the fierce flames of storied war : No giant horse the fell Achaian throngs 530

Poured forth at night, subverting Prlaji's realm. Mark, then, how different facts exist and blend From void or matter ; and how justly termed Of place and body the derived events.

Know, too, that bodies, in their frame consist, 535

Part, of primordial atoms uncombined, And part combined and blending : these alone Pervious and rare ; while those so solid formed No force create can sever, or dissolve.

Nor deem such solids doubtful : though so deemed 540 By sages oft, who plausibly object That sound, that thunder, that the voice itself Breaks through domestic walls : that rigid steel Admits the blaze, and whitens : vitreous rocks Melt in the fierce volcano : gold and brass 545

Forego their icy hardness, and alike Yield in the fiery conflict, and dissolve : That e'en the silver chalice, fiU'd with lymph Fervid or cold, unlocks its secret pores. And warms, at once, or chills th' embracing hand. 550

Hence deem they matter pervious all, and void Of solid substance. But attend, benign, And, since right reason, and the frame of things

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 317

Demand the verse, the muse shall briefly prove

The seeds, the principles of matter all 555

Both soUd, and eternal, whence alone

Springs the stupendous fabric of the world.

Of SPACE, of MATTER, as already sung, Th' ENTIRE of things consists, by nature formed Distinct and adverse ; and existing pure 560

Each uncontrolled of each. Where matter dwells Void space can ne'er be found, nor matter found, Search where thou wHt, where space resides and reigns. As space is vacant then, material seeds Must solid prove, perforce, and free from void. 565

Thus, too, as vacuum dwells in all produced. Some solid substance must that vacuum bound : Nor aught of vacuum can created things Be proved to enclose, if solids not exist. Whose power alone can such enclosures form. 570

But solids must be matter ; the prime seeds Of all surveyed, harmonious in their act. And undecayed when all decays around.

Were there no space, th' entire of things would prove One boundless solid : and were nought conceived 575

Of viewless seeds, close Ailing, void of space. Each spot possest, all then were vacuum blank. Thus each from each, from matter space exists Distinct and clear : since never all is void. Nor ever full ; but this from that preserved 580

By countless atoms acting though unseen. These, as already sung, no powers can pierce : O'er blows external, o'er each vain attempt Of penetrative solvents, or aught else Philosophy reveals, triumphant still. 585

For nought can break, of vacuum all devoid. Or melt, or moulder, or within admit Vapour, or cold, or power of pungent heat. By which dissolves this fabric of the world. 'Tis vacuum lays the base : as this exists, 590

Augments, or lessens, things alone decay. What then is solid, and from vacuum free. Must undecayed, and still eternal live.

Were matter not eternal, ages since

318 LUCKETIUS. BOOK I.

AH had returned to nothing whence it sprang, 696

And from that nothing all again revived.

But since from nothing nought can ever rise.

As proved ahove, nor aught to nothing shrink.

Seeds there must be of ever-during date,

To which, perpetual, things dissolve, or whence 600

Flows the fresh pabulum that all repairs.

But seeds thus simple must be solid too ;

Else unpreserved through countless ages past,

And useless to recruit th' exhausted world.

Else friction, too, had injured : each by each 605

Through myriad years abraded, and reduced. Till nought conceptible had lived to rear, Each in its time, the progenies of earth : For all is wasted easier than renewed. And hence, had all been thus disturbed, dissolved, 610 And frittered through the long anterior lapse Of countless ages, future time in vain Would strive the ruined fragments to repair. But what more obvious than that bounds exist To matter decompounding, primal seeds 616

To forms defined coercing ; since again All springs to birth, harmonious, kinds from kinds, * True to their times, and perfect in their powers ?

Yet, though the principles of matter thus Prove firm and solid, its component forms, 620

As air, earth, vapour, or translucent stream. May still be soft and pliant, as combined. E'en from their birth, with less, or larger void. But had those principles themselves been reared Pliant and soft, then whence the sturdy steel, 626

The close-compacted flint, or aught besides, Of equal texture, traced through Nature's realm ? Thus simple solids must be still confest ; And all be soft, or rigid, as of these In more or less concentrate mode composed. 630

To all has Nature given a bound precise Of being and perfection ; and promulged, To every varjdng rank, her varying laws ; Urging to this, from that restraining firm. Nought suffers change : the feathery tribes of heaven 635

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 319

Bear, on their glossy plumes, through every class,

The same fixt hues that first those classes stamped.

Hence matter too, through all its primal seeds,

Is proved immutable : for if, o'ercome

By aught of foreign force, those seeds could change, 640

All would be doubtful ; nor the mind conceive

What might exist, or what might never live :

Nor why, decide, such variance in their powers.

And final terms of life, or instinct strong.

Through every age, still urging every race 645

To each pursuit, each action of their sires.

Know, too, each seed, each substance is composed Of points extreme no sense can e'er detect : Points that, perforce, minutest of themselves. To parts can ne'er divide : nor self-educed, 650

Nor, but as formed, existing, else destroyed. Parts such can hold not : each the first, pure part. Itself, of other substance : which, when joined Alone by kindred parts, in order due. Forms, from such junction, the prime seeds of things. 655 But e'en such parts, though by the mind as parts Conceived, disjoined can ne'er exist ; and thence Adhere by firm, indissoluble bond.

Thus seeds are simple solids, formed compact Of points extreme, that never can recede : 660

Not lab'ring jointly to produce some end. But potent from simplicity alone. And hence eternal : equally unprone To waste or sever ; and by nature kept To feed the suffering fabric of the world. 665

Did no such points exist, extreme and least. Each smallest atom would be, then, combined Of parts all infinite ; for every part Parts still would boast, dividing without end. And, say, what difference could there, then, subsist 670 'Twixt large and small ? for though th' entire op things Should infinite be deemed, each smallest speck Still parts as infinite would hold embraced. But since at this the reasoning mind revolts. Then must it own, o'erpowered, that points exist 675

Least by their nature, and of parts devoid :

320 LUCRETIUS. BOOK I.

And solid, hence, and of eternal date.

Hence seeds arise, the last, least parts conceived Of actual being : the extremest points To which creative Nature all resolves. 680

Which, if not least, if still of parts possest, Could ne'er, with close exactitude, renew The universal frame : all, all would rise Of weight diverse, and ever varying form. Casual in tie, in motion undefined. 685

Yet should we grant that matter, without end, For ever wastes ; e'en then, from earliest time, Some matter must have triumphed undecayed. Cohering still : but what can thus cohere, What brave the unnumbered repercussions felt 690

Through ages now evolved, can ne'er decay : Alike the future conquering as the past.

Hence those who deem the fabric of the world Educed from fire, itself the source of all. Far wander from the truth. Thus deemed the sage, 695 Chief of his sect, and fearless in the fight. Famed Heraclitus ; by the leam'd esteemed Of doubtful phrase, mysterious ; but revered By crowds of Grecians, flimsy, and untaught. For such th' obscure applaud ; delighted most 700

With systems dark, and most believing true The silver sounds that charm th' enchanted ear. But whence, I ask, if all from fire proceed Unmixed and simple, spring created things So various in their natures ? Urge not here 705

That fire condenses now, and now expands ; For if the same, divided or entire. Its parts condensed a heat can only prove More fierce ; and less when rarefied, and thin. Still all is FIRE. Nor canst thou e'er conceive 710

From fire that aught can spring but fire itself. Much less, in fire made dense alone, or rare, Trace the vast variance of created things. . Dense, too, and rare a vacuum must imply. As urged already; yet full well convinced 715

What straits surround them if a void exist. Such sages doubt, but, doubting, still deny :

BOOK L ON THE NATUBE OF THINGS. 321

Fearful of danger, yet averse from truth.

Such, too, reflect not that from things create,

Should void withdraw, the whole at once were dense, 720

One solid substance all, and unempowered

Aught from itself t' eject, as light, and smoke

Flies from the purple flame ; evincing clear

Its parts unsolid, and conmiixt with void.

But should it still, perchance, be urged, that flres 725

Perish by junction, and their substance change,

Then must that changing substance waste to nought ;

And thus from nought th' entire of nature spring.

For what once changes, by the change alone

Subverts immediate its anterior life. 730

But still, victorious, something must exist,

Or all to nought would perish ; and, in turn,

From nought regerminate to growth mature.

Yet though, most certain, things there are exist That never change, the seeds of all surveyed, 735

Whose presence, absence, or arrangement new That ALL new-models, certain 'tis, alike. Those seeds can ne'er be fibe. For what avails Such absence, presence, or arrangement new Of igneous matter, if the whole throughout 740

Alike be igneous ? Change howe'er it may. Through every variance all must still be flame. — Ask'st thou whence fire proceeds then ? As I deem, From certain seeds to certain motions urged, Or forms, or combinations ; which, when changed, 745 Change too their nature ; and, though yielding fire, Not fire resembling, or aught else perceived By human sense, or tangible to touch. ^

To hold, moreo'er, as Heraclitus held. That all is fire, and nought besides exists 750

Through Nature's boundless fabric, is to rave. T' oppose the mental sense, erroneous oft. To sense external, whence all knowledge flows. And whence himself first traced that flame exists. To sense he trusts, when sense discloses fire, 755

And yet distrusts in things disclosed as clear. Can there, in man, be conduct more absurd ! — Where shall we turn us ? Where, if thus we fly

322 LUCBETins. book l

Those senses chief that sever true firom false ? — Why, rather, too, should all that else exists 760

Be thus denied, and fire alone maintained,

Than fire denied, and all maintained besides ?

Tenets alike preposterous and wild.

Hence those, in fire, who trace the rise of things.

And nought but fire ; or those for aib who strive 765

As source of all ; or those the dimpling streak

Who fondly fancy ; or the ponderous eabtb,

For each has armed its champions in its turn.

Alike wide wander from unerring truth.

Nor wanders less the sage who air with fire 770

Would fain commix, or limpid stream with eabth ;

Or those the whole who join, fire, ether, eakth^

And pregnant showers, and thence the world deduce.

Thus suDg Empedocles, in honest fame

First of his sect ; whom Agrigentum bore 775

In cloud-capt Sicily. Its sinuous shores

Th' Ionian main, with hoarse, unwearied wave.

Surrounds, and sprinkles with its briny dew :

And, from]the fair JEolian fields, divides

With narrow frith that spurns the impetuous surge. 780

Here vast Charybdis raves : here -^tna rears

His infant thunders, his dread jaws unlocks.

And heaven and earth with fiery ruin threats.

Here many a wonder, many a scene sublime.

As on he journeys, checks the traveller's steps ; 785

And shows, at once, a land in harvests rich.

And rich in sages of illustrious fame.

But nought so wonderous, so illustrious nought,

So fair, so pure, so lovely, can it boast,

Empedocles, as thou ! whose song divine, 790

By all rehearsed, so clears each mystic lore,

That scarce mankind believed thee bom of man.

Yet e'en Empedocles, and those above,

Already sung, of far inferior fame.

Though doctrines frequent from their bosoms flowed 795

Like inspiration, sager and more true

Than e'er the Pythian maid, with laurels crowned,

Spoke from the tripod at Apollo's shrine ;

E'en these mistook the principles of things.

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 323

And greatly wandered in attempt so great. 800

And, first, they deemed that motion might exist

From VOID exempt : that things might still be rare,

Still soften, as earth, ether, fire, or fruits.

Or e'en the ranks of animated life,

Though VOID commixed not with their varying frames. 805

Then, too, they held no final term ordained

To comminuting atoms : which, through time,

Still crumbled on, and never could be least.

Though from such points as sense itself surveys.

Extreme and least, conjecture we may form 810

Of points extreme, impalpable to sight.

Least in themselves, that never can divide.

With them, moreo'er, the seeds of things were formed Soft, and unsolid : but whate'er is soft. Whatever unsolid, as at first they spring 815

From other substance, must perforce decay. So all to nought would perish, and again From nought regerminate to growth mature : Doctrines the muse already has disproved. Such seeds, too, must be foes ; created each 820

To each adverse ; and hence can never meet But sure perdition waits : or, chance, they part, Disperst abrupt, as, in contending storms. Wind, rain, and thunder scatter, and are lost.

But, from such four-fold foes, could all things spring, 825 And, sprung, to such dissolve — why rather term Those jarring powers the primal seeds of things, Than things of them ? since, in alternate course. Each fiows from each : th' alternate form is seized, Th' alternate nature, through perennial time. 830

Yet could'st thou deem such powers adverse might blend. And earth with fire, with ether lymph commix, And still retain their natures unimpaired ; Whilst thus retained, no living form could rise Traced through creation, animate, or void, 835

As springs the verdant shrub, of reasoning soul. For each its nature, through the varying mass, Would still evince, and earth with air commix. In ceaseless strife, — and fire with crystal lymph. But primal seeds, whene'er the form of things 840

Y 2

324 LucsBTins. book l

Mutual they gender, mast, perforce, assume An unobtrusive nature, close concealed. Lest aught superior rise, of power adverse^ And thus th' harmonious union be destroyed.

Such sages, too, from heaven, imd heaven's bright fires Maintain that all proceeds : that fire drawn hence 846

Converts to ether, ether into showersi And showers benign to earth : and hence again. That all from earth returns : first liquid dew. Then air, and heat conclusive ; changing thus^ 850

In ceaseless revolution, changing thus From heaven to earth, from earth to heaven sublime : A change primordial seeds could ne'er sustain. So something still must, void of change, exist ; Or all would perish, all to nought return ; 856

For what once changes, by the change alone Subverts immediate its anterior life. Since, then, as sung above, these all commute Each into each, some seeds must still be owned That ne'er can change, or all to nought would waste. 860 Hold rather, then, such seeds exist, endowed With powers so curious that, as now combined. If fire they form, combine them but anew. Add, or deduct, give motion, or subtract. And all is air ; and changing thus, and changed, 865

That things from things perpetual take their rise.

Nor urge, still sceptic, that each hour displays All life protruded from the genial earth : Fed by the balmy air ; by heaven's own fire Matured ; and saved from pestilence and death 870

Alone by showers benignant : and that hence Man, beast, and herbs alike exist, and thrive. The fact we own : we own from solid food, And crystal streams, man draws his daily breath. Of nerve, of bone, of being else deprived : 875

But, owning, add, the compounds meet for man, For brute, for herbage, differ in their kind^ By different tastes discerned : and differ thus. And only thus, as formed from various seeds, To all things common, but in various modes 880

Combined, and fitted to each rising want.

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 325

Nor small of import are the modes diverse

In which those seeds approach, recede, or blend :

Since heaven, and earth, and suns, and seas immense.

Herbs, instinct, reason, aU are hence derived : 885

The mode but changed, the matter still the same.

Thus, though the lines, these doctrines that recite.

Flow from the same fixt elemental types.

Yet line from line, in sense, in sound compared.

Egregious differs. Re-arranged alone, 890

Such the vast power by graphic types possest !

Start not when told, then, that the seeds of things

Boast powers superior, and can all create.

From such mistakes, detected and exposed. Now turn we : and in order next survey 895

Those docrines first the Grecian schools imbibed From sapient Anaxagoras, by them Termed Homceomery ; a phrase ourselves. In tongue deficient, never can translate. But these its institutes : that bone from bones, 900

Minute, and embryon, nerve from nerves arise. And blood from blood, by countless drops increased. Gold, too, from golden atoms, earths concrete From earths extreme ; from fiery matters fire. And lymph from limpid dew. And thus throughout 905 From primal kinds that kinds perpetual spring. Yet void he granted not in aught create, Nor POINTS extreme that never can divide. In both erroneous, and with those deceived Classed in our numbers, and opposed above. 910

Too feeble, too, the rudiments he chose, J£ rudiments they be, that hold, at once. The powers of things, and form the things themselves. All toil alike, and perish void of aid : For, when the hour of dissolution draws, 915

Say, which- can baffle the dread fangs of death ? Can ether, lymph, or fire ? can nerve, or bones ? In each the strife were vain : since all produced, Surveyed, or viewless, impotent alike. Must yield to fate, and perish unredeemed. 920

But things produced to nought can never fall. Or fallen, regerminate, as proved above.

326 LUCBETIUS. BOOK I.

Food rears the body, and its growth sustains : But well we know its tendons, nerves, and blood. Hence all matured, are foreign and unlike. 925

If, then, each food be compound, if commixt With miniatures of aU, of blood and nerve. Of bone and veins ; each food compact, or moist. Of parts unlike must then itself consist ; Of bone, of blood, of tendon, vein, and nerve. 930

Thus all things spring from earth : but if in earth All lurk enveloped, earth of forms consists Strange, and discordant, panting for the day. Change still the picture, and the same still flows : In timbers, thus, if smoke, flame, ashes blend, 935

Then, too, those timbers hostile parts comprise.

But, here, the ready answer, framed of yore. By him, the founder of the system, springs: That, though in aU things all things lurk commixt, What most prevails, what boasts the largest share, 940 Lies superficial, and is noticed chief. Fruitless remark, unsolid, and untrue. For still, at times, when crushed to dust minute Beneath the ponderous mill-stone's mighty orb The crumbling com with human blood must weep, 945 Or aught besides of fluid found in man, ' And stain with hues obscene : and still, at times. Each herb unfold the balmy milk so sweet. That swells the fleecy flock, or odorous kine. The furrowed glebe, the labouring plough beneath, 950 Must, too, develope, in its secret womb, Plants, fruits, and foliage, oft dispersed, and hid : And, to the woodman, the cleft stock disclose With ashes smoke, and smoke commixt with fire. These, facts deny : in things things ne'er exist ; 955

But seeds of things, in various modes arranged. Various themselves : whence rises all surveyed.

But should'st thou urge that oft beneath the storm. When rubbed by many a repercussion rude, Branch against branch^ the forest's topmost height 960 Has blazed from tree to tree ; the fact we grant : Not, with each trunk, that native fires combine ; But that perpetual friction quick collects

BOOK I. ON THE NATIIBE OF THINGS. 327

Their seeds dispersed ; hence gathering ten-fold force,

And flame engendering. For could fire itself 965

A part constituent of the forest form,

No hour could hide the mischief; every tree

Would hlaze, and bum till boundless ruin reigned.

See, then, as earlier sung, how much imports Th' arrangement, motion, magnitude, and form 970

Of primal seeds combined : and how the same, Transposed but little, fuel quick convert To flame, bright blazing up the swarthy flue : As FLUE and fuel, terms of different sound. Of different sense, their letters but transposed, 975

Each into each converts with magic speed.

But should'st thou urge that all things still may flow From primal seeds, and yet those seeds possess The form, the nature of the things themselves ; The scheme falls self-destroyed. — For then, must seeds 980 Hold powers adverse ; and laugh, and shake their sides, While tears of anguish down their cheeks distiL

Come, now, and mark perspicuous what remains. Obscure the subject : but the thirst of fame Bums all my bosom ; and through every nerve 985

Darts the proud love of letters, and the muse. I feel th' inspiring power ; and roam resolved Through paths Pierian never trod before. Sweet are the springing founts with nectar new ; Sweet the new flowers that bloom : but sweeter still 990 Those -flowers to pluck, and weave a roseate wreath. The muses yet to mortals ne'er have deigned. With joy the subject I pursue ; and free The captived mind from Superstition's yoke. With joy th' obscure illume ; in liquid verse, 995

Graceful, and clear, depicting all surveyed : By reason guided. For as oft, benign, The sapient nurse, when anxious to enforce On the pale boy, the wormwood's bitter draught, With luscious honey tints the goblet's edge, 1000

Deceiving thus, while yet unused to guile, His unsuspecting, lip ; till deep he drinks. And gathers vigour from the venial cheat : So I, since dull the subject, and the world

328 LUOBBTIUS. BOOK L

Abashed recoils, would fain, in honeyed phrase^ 1005

Tuned by the muses, to thine ear recite

Its vast concerns ; if haply I may hope

To fix thine audience, wlule the flowing verse

Unfolds the nature, and the forms of things.

Taught then, ahready that material seeds 1010

Are soHd, and o'er time triumphant live, Attend, benignant, while we next decide Their number, or if infinite ; and tell, Since void throughout exists, assigning space For place and motion, if th' entire of things 1015

Be bounded, or unfathomed, and immense.

Th' ENTIRE of things, then, bounds can never know : Else parts possest of farthest and extreme. But parts can only be extreme, beyond Where other substance springs, those parts extreme 1020 Binding, though sense the limit ne'er can trace. If, then, some other substance rise, the first Forms not th' entire of things. Whate'er it be That other substance still must part compose. Vain too is distance : the vast Whole alike 1025

To all extends, embracing, and embraced.

Yet grant th' entire of things of bound possest Say, to what point shall yon keen archer, placed E'en on its utmost verge, his dart direct ? Shall aught obstruct it, or the path be clear ? 1030

Take which thou wilt : some substance choose, possest Of power t' impede, and check its rapid race : Or let it fly unconquered, nor restraint E'en once encounter : thou must still confess Th' entire of nature nought of limit knows. 1035

Throughout the dart I'll chase ; and when, at length, Th' acceded bound is gained. 111 still demand What yet obstructs it ; still new proofs adduce That the vast whole is boundless ; and that flight Still beyond flight for ever might be urged. 1040

Were, too, th' entire of nature thus conflned. Thus circumscribed precise, from its own weight Long since, all matter to the extremest depth Had sunk supine : nor aught the skies beneath. Nor skies themselves, with countless stars adorned 1045

BOOK I. OK THE NATURE OF THINGS. 329

And sun's unsuffering splendour, had remained.

Down, down th' accumulated mass had fallen

From earliest time, devoid of power to rise.

But nought of rest supine material seeds

Evince through nature ; since no depth exists 1050

Extreme, and fathomable where those seeds

Might fix collected in inert repose.

All, all is action : the vast whole alike

Moves in each part ; and, from material seeds.

Draws, undiminished, its eternal food. 1065

Things, to the sense, are circumscribed by things. Air bounds the hills, and hills the liquid air : Earth ocean, ocean earth : but the vast whole What fancied scene can bound ? O'er its broad realm, Immeasured, and immeasurably spread, 1060

From age to age resplendent lightnings urge. In vain their flight perpetual ; distant, stiU, And ever distant from the verge of things. So vast the space on opening space that swells. Through every part so infinite alike. 1065

Ask thy own reason. It will prove at once Th' ENTIRE of nature never can have bounds. Void must perforce bound matter, matter void ; Thus mutual, one illimitable whole

Forming for ever. For were each of each 1070

Free and unshackled, uncombined, and pure In their own essence, not one short-lived hour Could earth, or ocean, the refulgent fane Of heaven sublime, or mortal forms, or those The gods themselves inhabit, then subsist. 1075

Freed from all order, disarranged, and rude. Through boundless vacuum the drear mass of things Would quick be borne : or, rather, nought had risen From the crude chaos, joyless, and inert. For never, doubtless, firom result of thought, 1080

Or mutual compact, could primordial seeds First harmonize, or move with powers precise. But ever changing, ever changed, and vext, From earliest time, through ever-during space, With ceaseless repercussion, every mode 1085

Of motion, magnitude, and shape essayed ;

330 LUCRETIUS. BOOK I.

At length th' unwieldy mass the form assumed

Of things created. Persevering, thus,

Through many an age, unnumhered springs the deep

Feed with perpetual tides : hy the warm sun 1090

Sustained, and cherished, earth renews her fruits,

And man, and heast survive ; and ether glows

With Hving lights innum'rous : scenes throughout

Twere vain t' expect, from all eternal time.

Had no primordi^ seeds, in stores immense, 1095

Been ever nigh to renovate the world.

For as, of food deprived, the languid frame

Of man must perish, so th* entire of things

Must instant cease, should once primordial seeds

Their aid withhold, or deviate in their course. 1 100

Nor deem from mutual impulse, things with things

Can sole their forms preserve ; th' eternal seeds

May, hence, he oft restrained, and e'en perchance^

Their flight delayed, till, from th' exhaustless store.

Fresh seeds drrive the fainting frame to feed : 1 105

But from concussion, frequent, they rehound,

Dissolve all tie, and leave to transient rest

The common matter whence each suhstance springs.

Hence must incalculahle seeds exist

Ceaseless in act ; and the vast whole derive 1110

Alone from houndless matter impulse due.

But fly, O Memmius, fly the sect deceived. Who teach that things, with gravitation firm. To the vast centre of th' entire, alike, Unerring press : the world who fain would prove 1115 Void of external impulse, may subsist, And nought its post desert, profound, or high. Since of such gravitating power possest. For canst thou deem that aught may thus sustain, And poise itself? that aught of solid weight, 1120

Placed at earth's utmost depth, could upwards strive Reversed ; and to the surface — (in the stream As spreads the downwards shadow) — still adhere ? For thus such sages hold : thus man, and beast Subsist, they teach, inverted, earth beneath : 1 125

From their firm station, down their deeper skies As unexposed to fall, as towards the heavens

BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 331

Ourselyes to mount sublime : by them the sun,

When night to us unfolds his stars, surveyed ;

And equ^ measuring, in alternate course, 1130

With us, their months, their darkness, and their day.

Such are the specious fancies error feigns.

In idle hour, to minds perverse and vain.

Where all is infinite, what spot precise

Can e'er be central ? or were centre owned, 1 135

Why towards such spot should matter rather tend,

Than elsewhere more remote, and deeper still ?

For vacant space, through every part alike.

Central or not, must yield to things compact.

And ponderous, as their varying weight compels ; 1140

Nor through the boundless void one point exists

Where things may rest, as if of weight deprived.

No power it boasts t' uphold ; but still recedes.

As Nature prompts, and opes the needed path.

Hence, by the love alone of centre struck, 1145

Th' harmonious frame of things could ne'er be formed.

Moreo'er such sages urge not that the whole Strives towards the centre equal ; but terrene Alone, and fluid matters ; tlie deep main, The mountain cataract, and the forms produced 1150

From earth Dedalian : while the breezy air. And the light flame, far from such centre stray, Through ether trembling, and, with lambent fire. Feeding, through time, the sun's refulgent blaze ; As feeds maternal earth the myriad forms 1 155

Of herbs, and trees, and animated life. From her own bosom nurtured, and sustained. Thus, too, they teach that heaven, with bound subUme, Encircles all things, lest the world's wide walls. And all enveloped, volatile as flame, 1 160

Burst every bond, and dissipate, and die : Lest heaven in thunders perish, and below The baseless earth forsake us, downward urged : And loose, and lifeless, man's disseVring frame, Mixt with the rushing wreck of earth, and skies, 1165 Waste through all space profound ; till nought remain, Nought, in a moment, of aU now surveyed, But one blank void, one mass of seeds inert.

I

332 LUCBETIUS. BOOK D.

For once to act, when primal atoms fail,

Fail where they may, the doors of death are ope, 1170

And the vast whole unbounded ruin whelms.

These subjects if, with trivial toil, thou scan. Each, each illuming, midnight shall no more Thy path obstruct ; but Nature's utmost depths Shme as the day : so things irradiate things. 1175

BOOK n.

How sweet to stand, when tempests tear the main.

On the firm cliff, and mark the seaman's toil !

Not that another's danger soothes the soul.

But from such toil how sweet to feel secure !

How sweet, at distance from the strife, to view 5

Contending hosts, and hear the clash of war !

But sweeter far on Wisdom's height serene.

Upheld by Truth, to fix our firm abode ;

To watch the giddy crowd that, deep below.

For ever wander in pursuit of bliss ; 10

To mark the strife for honours, and renown.

For wit and wealth, insatiate, ceaseless urged.

Day after day, with labour unrestrained.

O wretched mortals ! — race perverse and blind ! Through what dread dark, what perilous pursuits, 15

Pass ye this round of being ! — know ye not Of all ye toil for Nature nothing asks. But for the body freedom from disease. And sweet, unanxious quiet, for the mind ?

And little claims the body to be sound : 20

But little serves to strew the paths we tread With joys beyond e'en Nature's utmost wish. What though the dome be wanting, whose proud walls A thousand lamps irradiate, propt sublime By frolic forms of youths in massy gold, 25

Flinging their splendours o'er the midnight feast : Though gold and silver blaze not o'er the board.

BOOK n. ox THE NATURE OF THINGS. 333

Nor music echo round the gaudy roof?

Yet listless laid the velvet grass along

Near gliding streams, by shadowy trees o'er-arched, ^30

Such pomps we need not ; such still less when spring

Leads forth her laughing train, and the warm year

Paints the green meads with roseat flowers profuse.

On down reclined, or wrapped in purple robe,

The thirsty fever bums with heat as fierce 35

As when its victim on a pallet pants.

Since, then, nor wealth, nor splendour, nor the boast Of birth illustrious, nor e'en regal state Avails the body, so the free-bom mind Their aid as little asks. Unless, perchance, 40

The warlike host thou deem, for thee arrayed In martial pomp, and o'er the fiery field Panting for glory ; and the gorgeous fleet. For thee unmoored, and ardent, — can dispel Each superstitious terror ; from the breast 45

Root out the dread of death, and lull to peace The cares, the tumults that distract thy soul. But if all this be idle, if the cares. The TERRORS still that haunt and harass man. Dread not the din of arms — o'er kings and chiefs 50

Press unabashed, unawed by glittering pomp. The purple robe unheeding — canst thou doubt Man pants for these from poverty of mind, Wandering in darkness, and through life misled ?

For as the boy, when midnight veils the skies, 55

Trembles, and starts at all things, so, full oft, E'en in the noon men start at forms as void Of real danger as the phantoms false By darkness conjured, and the school-boy's dread. A terror this the radiant darts of day 60

Can ne'er disperse : to trath's pure fight alone. And wisdom yielding, intellectual suns.

Come, then, and mark how seeds primordial form Created things, and how, when formed, dissolve : Their force, their action, whence, and power to move, 65 Pass, and repass, through all th' immense of space : Benign attend, while thus the muse explains.

Doubtless no substance boasts a bond within

334 LUCBETIUS. BOOK IL

IndiBSoluble, since each gradual wastes,

And, in the lapse of time, flies off entire, 70

By age o'erpowered. Yet the great mass of things

Still meets the view uninjured, from the stores

Sustained of primal atoms. These, as oft

Their punctual flight they take, each form decrease,

And, as they join, augment : hence things attain 75

Their growth mature, and thence their sure decay.

Thus, void of rest, the changeful world renews.

And man on man lives mutual ; nations thus

Flourish, or fade ; a few brief years roll round.

And sire to son, through every reasoning rank, 80

Yields, like a racer o'er the busy course.

His lamp of life, and instant disappears.

Who deems primordial atoms e'er can rest. And, resting, urge through matter motion still. Far wanders from the truth. Primordial seeds, 85

Through space unfathomed as their flight they wing. From their own gravitating power must pass, Or blows extrinsic ; each o'er each, alike. Casual prevails : for oft the mass of seeds That prone descends, with seeds repugnant meet 90

In contest tough, and distant far rebound. Nor wondrous this, of firmest texture formed. And nought t' obstruct the retro-cursive flight And though thou trace the seeds unequal heaped Of primal matter, still, reflect, th' entire 95

Knows nought of bottom, nought of spot profound Where they may rest collected : space throughout Boundless exists, as, in our earlier verse. Decisive proved, on every side immense.

Since, then, primordial seeds through space profound Repose can never know : but rather, urged 101

To ceaseless motions, varying and adverse. By the rude conflict part far off" rebound. And part with speed unite, the severing blow Surmounted soon. Hence those, through trivial space 105 Briefly repelled, the vigorous bond scarce broke. With quick reunion intertwining strong, Form the rude base of flints, and rigid steel. And matters firm alike.: while those beyond.

BOOK II. ON THE NATUBE OF THINGS. 335

Far wandering through the void, of feebler link 110

Mutual possest, the liquid air create,

And the pure light the sun perpetual pours.

Nor these the whole compose. For seeds there are That through the boundless void for ever stray, Of social bond abhorrent, and in turn 115

Refused all compact in the frame of things : Not unresembling, if aright I deem, Those motes minute that, when th' obtrusive sun Peeps through some crevice in the shuttered shade, The day-dark hall illuming, float amain 120

In his bright beam, and wage eternal war. There may'st thou view them, now in crowds combine, Now part discordant, o'er the restless scene Urging the pigmy battle ; and may'st hence Learn what vast contests oft mid primal seeds, 125

Ceaseless, prevail, through boundless space propelled. Thus things minute instruct us, and unfold The laws, at times, of things momentous most.

Such motes, moreo'er, and let the sage remark Impress thy judgment, agitated thus 130

In the pure sun -beam, from the strife alone Prove, in their primal seeds, some motion lurks Unseen, and secret, whence the pigmy mass Draws motion first. For oft the curious eye Sees the light goss, by viewless force subdued, 135

Turn from the path selected, backwards urged. Now here, now there, through every point propelled. Such the perplexing power of primal seeds.

From seeds all motion springs ; by impulse hence Through molecules minute of seeds conjoined, 140

Nearest in power, protruded, though unseen. Hence urged again, in turn, through things create Of ampler form, till soon the sense itself The congregated action marks distinct. As in the lucid beam's light woof we trace 145

Still motion visual, though unseen its source.

Nor small the motive power of primal seeds. This, Memmius, should'st thou doubt, we thus confirm : ' When firstyAurora, o'er the dewy earth. Spreads her soft light, and through the pathless grove 150

336 LUCRETIUS. BOOK D.

A thousand songsters ope their liquid throats^

All ether charming — sudden we survey

Th' effusive sun, as with a garment, deck

With his own radiance all created things ;

Instant in speed, unbounded in his blaze. 165

But the bright fluid, the pure stream he throws,

Flows not without resistance ; many a wave.

Through space profound, ethereal checks its flight ;

And many a self-engendered power perverse,

Beared from its complex frame : perpetual hence 160

Lags the light fluid, doomed to double strife.

But primal atoms. Arm and solid sole

From pure simplicity, when through void space

Free and unchecked their easy course they wing.

One in themselves, at once their goal attain. 165

Hence than the rapid light more rapid still

Rush they, in equal hour through ampler space

Urged, than the beams that gild the glowing vault.

No pause for council need they, no delay.

Nor deep research to sever right from wrong, 170

Or prove what path their duty bids pursue.

Yet some there are, untaught, who dare contend Primordial matter ne'er without the gods Thus, in nice symmetry, to please mankind. Could form th' alternate seasons, rear the fruits 175

That gladden life, or urge those gentler joys, Gray Pleasure, guide and goddess of the world, Prompts in the panting breast, lest every* tribe Should fail on earth, the rites of Venus spurned. These from the gods, as sovereign cause of all, 1 80

Such sophists trace, wide wandering from the truth. For, though the rise of things I ne'er could prove, Yet dare I, from the heaven's defective frame, And many a scene alike perverse, affirm No power divine this mass material reared 185

With ills so pregnant. This, in order due, The muse shall full demonstrate : turn we now To what of motion yet remains unsung.

And here, O Menmiius ! mark this precept well ; That nought corporeal, of itself, can e'er 190

Ascend sublime through regions urged above.

BOOK n. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 337

Nor let th' aspiring flame, with specious boast,

Heedless deceive thee. True, with upward flight,

E'en from the first, its spreading spires unfold ; 195

And fruits and plants their growth still upwards urge.

Yet as the weight by all possest, below

Drives all things, deem not thou, when the bright blaze

Flames through th' aflrighted house, the crackHng roof

Tumbling precipitate, then deem not thou 200

It mounts spontaneous but from foreign force.

Thus, from the wounded vein, the vital blood

Ascends, and pours its purple strength sublime :

And springs not thus the ponderous trunk immersed

In the clear stream, rejected by the wave ? 205

Though deep we plunge it, with redoubled force

Still back it bounds, and, o'er th' elastic tide.

Rears half its solid bulk. Yet doubt we not.

Spite of such facts, that all things, uncontrolled,

Through space tend downward. From control alone 210

The lambent flame thus mounts, towards heaven impelled.

Else prone from native weight. Falls not, at night.

The mimic star^ the meteor trailing long

Its line of fire, whene'er, amid the gloom,

Th' elastic ether opes the needed path ? • 215

The mid-day sun flings down his rays direct

And sows the fields with light : and the dread flash,

When thunder rends the skies, though wide it dart.

Now here, now there, amid the rushing rain.

Its forky fires — spends its chief strength on earth. 220

This, too, regard intent ; that primal seeds. When down direct their potent path they urge. In time uncertain, and uncertain space, Oft from the right decline — yet so minute Veer they, no fancy less can e'er conceive. 225

Without this devious curve primordial seeds Would drop successive, like the crystal shower, Void of all contest, all re-active blow. Whence Nature sole her world of wonders works.

If, then, there be, who deem the seeds of things 230 More ponderous, as their rectilinear course Speeds through the void, the lighter soon may reach, Aiid thus the repercussive war commeuoe, —

338 LUCBETIUS. BOOK II.

Far err they from the truth. For though, when urged

Through the pure air, or clear translucent wave, 235

Doubtless, all ponderous forms more swift descend ;

This, from the variance of resistance sole,

Flows, by such fluids formed 'gainst things unlike.

The grosser quick o'erpowering. But pure space.

In every part, in every hour the same, 240

Throughout resists not, the demanded path

Yielding submissive. Hence, in equal time,

Through the blank void, unequal weights descend

Of every fancied variance : and hence, too,

The grosser ne'er the lighter urged below 245

Can gain, triumphant ; or the contest rouse

Whence spring new motions, and all nature lives.

Hence doubly flows it why the seeds of things

Should from the right decline ; yet, in degree.

The least conceptibly, lest we should deem 250

The line oblique which Nature ne'er assumes.

For nought more obvious, as the sight confirms.

Than that all weights, their downward course at will

Steering, obliquely never can descend ;

But what keen sight of man can prove precise 255

That the swift cadence ne'er declines at all ?

Had all one motion uniform, the new

Th' anterior skilful copying, if throughout

Primordial seeds declined not, rousing hence

Fresh springs of action, potent to subvert 260

The bonds of fate, and break the rigid chain

Of cause on cause, eternal, — whence, resolve,

Flows through the world this freedom of the mind ?

This power to act, though fate the deed forbid.

Urged by the will alone ? The free-born mind 265

Acts, or forbears, spontaneous ; its own time,

Its place, alike uncertain : these the will.

Doubtless, alone determines, and, at once.

Flies the fleet motion through th' assenting frame.

Dost thou not see, as down the barrier drops * 270

That reins the racer, instant though he dart,

Not half so instant darts he as liis soul

Ambitious covets ? Deep through all his frame

Th' elastic nerves must first the wish convey

BOOK n. ON THE I^ATURE OF THINGS. 339

Ere yet the consentaneous flight succeed. 275

Hence, obvious, springs all motion from the heart,

Boused by the mind's resolve, and instant urged

Through every nerve, through every quivering limb.

A force far different this than e'er prevails

When aught without coerces. Passive, then, 280

Bends all the frame th' extrinsic power beneath.

Borne down reluctant ; till th' awakening will

Unchains each member, and resumes her right.

For oft, though foreign force, with tyrant sway.

Rule us, resistless, headlong hurrying down— 285

Say — ^lurks no adverse something in the breast

Proud to withstand ? full oft, at whose control.

Swift flows the nervous tide from limb to limb.

Bursting each bond — and, oft, as swift retires ?

Hence firm maintain we primal seeds some cause 290

Must feel of rising motion unbestowed .

By weight, or blow reactive, whence alone

Upsprings this secret power by man possest :

Nought forming nought, as reason proves precise.

For weight forbids the credence that alone 295

Things by reaction move ; yet, lest the mind

Bend to a stern necessity within,

And, like a slave, determine but by force,—

Though urged by weight, in time, in place unflxt,

Each primal atom trivial still declines. 300

Nor interstitial more, nor more compact. Was e'er this frame of matter ; nor augment Primaeval seeds, nor e'er admit decay. Hence every movement in anterior time That e'er subsisted, still subsists the same, 305

And will through endless ages : all begot. Begotten must be, punctual to their kinds. Exist, increase, and perish ; following firm The laws by Nature framed ; nor aught of power. Act where it may, can change th' entire of things. 310 For nought expands of spot where primal seeds From the vast whole may fly ; or e'er afresh. Armed with new powers, re-enter, adverse thus To Nature's plans, disorganizing all.

Nor this stupendous, that, though primal a^^^ '^^^^

z 2

340 LUCRBTnTS. BOOK IL

MoTe on incessant, and, throogfa different farms.

Boose different actions, the vast whole to sense

Bests undisturbed. For far bejond all ken.

Lies the prime base impalpable of things.

As this elndes all vision, so, alike, 320

Its motion too elude. E'en oft the sight

No motion marks where still the moving scene

Springs obvious, bj the distance sole concealed. —

The fleecy flocks, o'er yonder hill that browse

From glebe to glebe, where'er, impearled with dew, 325

The jocund clover cdls them, and the lambs

That round them gambol, saturate with milk.

Proving their frontlets in the mimic fray —

Press, at this distance, on the sight confused.

One white mass forming o'er the verdant steep. 330

Thus, too, when warlike squadrons crowd the field.

Horrent in arms, with horses scarce restrained.

Shaking the solid glebe, while the bright pomp

Flames through the skies, and gilds the glowing earth.

While groans the ground beneath their mighty tread, 335

And hills and heavens re-echo to their shouts —

Viewed from afar, the splendid scene that spreads

Seems void of motion, to the fields affixt.

Ck>me now, my friend, and, next, perspicuous mark What countless shapes primordial seeds assume, 340

How vast their variance : for, though myriads swarm Of equal figures, oft unlike they meet. Nor wondrous this, since, such th' abundance formed. No bounds can chain, no numbers e'er compute. «

Hence, not unfrequent, each from each, through space, 345 Musjb meet diverse, unkindred in their frames.

Thus Nature varies ; man, and brutal beast, And herbage gay, and silver fishes mute. And all the tribes of heaven, o'er many a sea. Through many a grove that wing, or urge their song 350 Near many a bank of fountain, lake or rill, Search where thou wilt, each differs in his kind, In form, in figure differs. Hence alone. Knows the fond mother her appropriate young, Th* appropriate young their mother, 'mid the brutes, 355 As clear discerned as man's sublimer race.

BOOK II. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 341

Thus oft before the sacred shrine, perfumed

With breathing frankincense, th' affrighted calf

Pours o'er the altar, from his breast profound,

The purple flood of life. But wandering wild 360

0*er the green sward, the dam, bereft of hope.

Beats with her cloven hoof th' indented dale,

Each spot exploring, if, perchance, she still

May trace her idol ; through th' umbrageous grove,

With well-known voice, she moans ; and oft re-seeks, 36^

Urged by a mother's love, the accustomed stall.

Nor shade for her, nor dew-distended glebe.

Nor stream soft gliding down its banks abrupt,

Yields aught of solace ; nor the carking care

Averts, that preys within ; nor the gay young 370

Of others soothe her o'er the joyous green :

So deep she longs, so lingers for her own.

Thus equal known, thus longed for, seek, in turn,

The tender heifer, tremulous of voice.

And the gay bleating lamb, their homed dams, 375

Lured by the milky fount that nurtures life.

The com, moreo'er, the yellow harvest yields, Matures not all alike ; — e'en the same kind In size oft varying to the curious eye. Thus vary, too, th' enamelled shells, that paint 380

The bending shore ; whose thirsty sands drink deep The main's soft waves, redundant rolled along. Hence doubly flows it why the seeds of things, Compact by nature, by mechanic art Shaped not to one fixt model, each from each 385

Should differ oft in figure through the void. Illumined thus, the mind with ease decides Why heaven's electric flash a subtler power Boasts, than the flame by torches fed below : That formed than this of atoms finer far, 390

Triumphant piercing many a pore minute By the dull taper's blaze essayed in vain.

Light, the clear glass pervades, while lymph recoils : Whence springs the difference, but that subtler seeds Bear the bright sun-beam than the fountain form ? 395 Free through the strainer flows the sparkling wine, While the slow oil hangs heavy : in its course

M2 LUCRETIUS. BOOK H.

Checked, or by atoms of a grosser frame,

Or more perplexed, and tangled ; each from each

Hence severing tardy, and, with toil extreme, 400

Transuding separate through th' attenuate lawn.

Thus vary tastes : and while the dulcet draught Of milk or honey charms the enchanted lip, The wormwood straight convulses, by the tongue Abhorred, and writhing every sapid nerve. 405

Hence may'st thou learn those seeds that rouse, combined, A joyous flavour, round exist, and smooth ; While those that form the bitter, and austere, Are hook'd, or jagged, and their path propel ^ •

Alone by wounding, hostile to the sense. 410

Thus all things live ; from primal atoms reared Of shape diverse, as deep within they ope Some secret source of pleasure or of pain. So deem not thou the saw's discordant scream. Horrid, and harsh, flows from the same smooth seeds 415 That wake the strain mellifluous, when the fair, With flying fingers, sweeps th' accordant lyre. Nor deem those atoms like, from putrid scenes That spring malignant, and the essential sweets Breathed from Cilician saffron, or the blaze 420

Of fragrant altars fed from orient groves. Nor canst thou form from the same source those hues, On which the vision feeds with fond delight. And those abhorred, and hideous, or the germs Pungent and keen, that rouse the sight to tears. 425

'Twere vain t' attempt : for all the soul that wakes To various pleasure, boasts a base rotund ; While pain but springs from atoms hook'd and harsh.

Yet seeds there are between ; not smooth complete. Nor deeply jagged, but with angles shaped 430

Just peeping o'er the surface. These the nerves Pain not, but titillate ; a sense perceived When sweets with bitters, sours with sweets combine. As oft in sauces, catered to the taste From the pale inula, or grape's soft grounds. 435

But fires and frosts spring different ; from a base Unlike indented, though indented each. This if thou doubt, the touch shall quick decide.

BOOK II. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 343

For TOUCH, O TOUCH ! ye powers of heaven supreme I Touch forms the genuine sense whence chief we trace 440 Whatever without insinuates, or within Springs up innate, injurious in th' escape, Or, like the genial tide by Venus roused. Pregnant with pleasure ; or, perchance, the frame Affecting inly, as th' essential seeds 445

Collect tumultuous, urged to civil strife. A feeling, this, full oft educed amain Whene'er th' uplifted palm, from sport or ire. Lets fall its vengeance o'er the reddening cheek. Hence, from effects so various, various too 450

Must be the forms to primal seeds assigned.

There are, moreo'er, that hard exist, and dense ; From atoms, these, more crook'd and clinging spring, Like tangled branches intertwined throughout. Such, mid the foremost, shines the diamond's blaze, 455 Fearless of insult, such the valid flint, The steel's enduring vigour, and the brass Discordant creaking from the public gates. While those, reversed, a fluent power that boast Swell into birth from seeds rotund, and smooth, 460

Unlinked th' essential globules, and with ease Poured headlong down, dissevering as they fall. Those, too, that quick fly off, as clouds or smoke, Or lambent flame, if not from seeds educed Hotund, and polished, doubtless, in their make 465

Nought know perplext, or hook'd, since armed with power To pierce the Parian marble, nor to view Cohering equal, like th' embracing brier : Not jagged, but pointed, hence, the base they own.

Nor wondrous this ; that things of fluent frame 470

As the broad ocean, oft should strike the sense With taste unlovely ; for, though round and smooth The genial atoms whence all fluids flow, * Still, seeds discordant oft will intermix. Rough, though globose, and by the tongue abhorred, 475 Though fltted still the fluent mass to form. This to confirm, to prove with polished seeds Seeds harsh full oft combine, whence springs alone The main's disflavour — from the briny wave

344 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IL

The nauseous mass subtract, and all is sweet. 480

Thus Nature acts : through many a thirsty sand

The surge she filters, i^shening in its course.

Till freed, at length, from every acrid power,

Tangled, and fixt behind, the dulcet lymph

Resprings to view, a calm and lucid pool. 485

This proved, what follows, as a truth derived, But that the forms of seeds, though varying much. Ne'er vary endless ; not imfrequent, else. Full many a seed must boast a bulk immense : For many a difiering figure ne'er can lurk 490

In things minute. Deem, then, primordial seeds Three fancied parts comprise, or grant e'en more, Invert their order, let the right be left. Depress the loftiest, the profound exalt, — Soon will the pigmy mass exhaust complete 495

Its tiny change of figures : would'st thou, then, Augment the variance, thou must add, perforce, New primal matter, hence augmented sole. Thus from fresh forms increase of size must flow Perpetual ; nor the seeds of things in shape 500

Can differ endless, or e'en once evince A bulk immense, as erst the Muse has proved.

Already else the purple woof superb Of Meliboea, robbing for its dye

The Syrian coasts, — already, dropt with gold, 505

The peacock's laughing plumage else had sunk By gaudier hues o'erpowered. The balmy myrrh. The luscious honey never more had urged A boast unrivalled ; e'en the swan's soft dirge Had ceased, and Ph(ebus dropt his liquid lyre : 510

All things o'er all prevailing undefined.

Thus those by sense abhorred, as these beloved. To more abhorred would yield ; each still o'er each, In sight or sound, in taste or smell diverse More hateful reared, more hideous, and obscene. 515

But since such powers exist not, since a bound Is stampt on all things, we must own, convinced. That primal seeds in shape are bounded too.

From frost to fire, from fire to winter's &ost, All, all has limits : heat and cold intense 520

BOOK II. ON THE NATUKE OP THINGS. 345

Th' extremes creating ; while progressive warmth

Fills up, between, the modalated scale.

Thus each degree, though varying, varies not

For ever, by extremes adverse confined.

Combustion here, and there the polar ice. 525

But mark this truth, a truth connected close. That all primordial seeds, of shape alike. Alike are endless ; for though few the forms Those seeds admit, yet finite were themselves Th' ENTIRE of things, a doctrine erst disproved, 530

Were finite too, by bounds surmountless chain^.

Come, then, while thus, in short, but sweetest verse. We prove them infinite ; prove hence alone The world's vast fabric lives, cemented strong By blows re-active unremitted urged. 535

Few are the forms the casual sight surveys Of brutes exotic ; and, with us, but small Their unproHfic power : yet foreign cUmes, And realms far distant, view each class complete, Boundless in number. Thus, though seldom here 540 Heaves the huge elephant his ponderous limbs. Prince of the savage tribes ; yet myriads guard, As with an ivory mound, all India's sons ; A mound no power can pierce. Such the vast stores That Nature boasts in orders deemed most rare. 545

Yet could Creation's utmost scope produce A form unparalleled by all that breathes. Alone and individual, — ^were the base Not infinite whence first the monster sprang, How sprang he then at all ? nor birth were his, 550

Nor e'en, though bom, the power to nurture life. But grant the primal atoms whence alone Such individual springs, were finite found. How, when, and where, by what concerted plan. What power innate, could e'er those atoms meet, 555

Through ocean, scattered of ungenial seeds ? These time could never join. As when the main. Worked into ftiry, many a mighty ship Wrecks ruthless, and towards every coast impels Masts, yards, and streamers, cordage, sails, and helms^ 560 And planks disparted, teaching as they fioat

346 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IX.

What dangers lurk unseen ; what snares to lore

Unthinking mortals ; — and forewarning load

To fly the smooth temptation, nor e'en once

Trust the false waves, though decked in loudest langh : 566

So, should'st thou make the primal seeds of aught

Once finite, instant the tumultuous war

Of adverse atoms, through the boundless void

Drives them far distant — never more to meet.

Or met, cohere, or e'en, cohering, grow ; 570

Facts without which Creation's self would fail,

As all must thus proceed, augment, mature.

And hence the primal seeds of all that live

Must, too, be boundless, whence each want is fed.

Nor can the mortal motions that wear out 575

The varied forms of things, with utter doom, Prevail for ever : nor e'en those, reversed. Of genial power, that quicken into life. Can, through perpetual time, that life sustain. Thus war eternal, midst the seeds of things, 580

With equal triumph reigns ; now here, now there. The vital powers o'ercoming, and o'ercome. The sigh funereal mingles with the bleat Of babes just bursting to the light of heaven ; Nor night o'er day, nor mom o'er night prevails, 585

But marks the discord — Infancy's shrill cry Mixt with sick moans, the apparitors of Death.

This too, attentive, treasure in thy mind : That nought the sight surveys, the soul conceives, Flows from one class of primal seeds alone. 590

Whate'er exists is compound ; and the more The latent powers, the energies it boasts, The more complex its nature ; reared to life From seeds more various, and of various shape.

First Earth herself th' essential atoms holds 595

Of streams and fountains, whence the main renews ; Holds in herself the secret seeds of fires. Oft the brown heath wide-parching, unperceived, And oft, like ^tna, blazing to the day : And holds each embryon, whence, to glad mankind, 600 Springs the gay com, the blossomed fruit-tree springs, Or whence the brutal tribes that roam at large

BOOK n. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 347

Draw their green banquets, and possess their shades.

Hence mighty Mother op th' Immortal Gods,

Of brutes, and men, is Earth full frequent feigned. 605

Her the sage bards of Greece, in ancient song. Paint drawn by lions in a car sublime : Hence, teaching how, in ether poised, she hangs, Unpropt by aught beneath ; the savage beasts They yoked and reined, to demonstrate how sure 610

The wildest young a mother's cares may tame ; And, with a mural crown her brows they bound, Since with her towers she guards man's civic rights. Thus deckt, tremendous, round from realm to realm. Still moves the solemn pomp, by all adored. 615

Her many a state, from holiest legends, call Parent of Ida ; and with Phrygian nymphs Surround, her fair attendants ; Phrygian termed, Since these the climes where first, as fame reports. The field was cultured, and the harvest rose. 620

Her priests are eunuchs — emblem this devised To teach that sons rebellious to their sires, Or those the sacred fame that dare traduce Of her who bore them, never shall themselves, Worthless and vile, by gods and men abhorred, 625

Boast aught of babe to glad their longing sight. With vigorous hand the clamorous drum they rouse And wake the sounding cymbal : the hoarse horn Pours forth its threatening music, and the pipe With Phrygian airs distracts the maddening mind, 630 While arms of blood the fierce enthusiasts wield To fright th' unrighteous crowds, and bend profound Their impious souls before the power divine.

Thus moves the pompous idol through the streets. Scattering mute blessings, while the throngs devout 635 Strew, in return, their silver and their brass, Loading the paths with presents, and o'ershade The heavenly form, and all th' attending train With dulcet sprays of roses, pluckt profuse. A band select before them, by the Greeks 640

CuRETES called, from Phrygian parents sprung, Sport with fantastic chains, the measured dance Weaving infuriate, charmed with human bloody

348 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IL

And madly shaking their tremendous crests.

These picture, haply, the Dict^an train, 645

Alike CuRETES termed, as fame reports,

Who drowned the infant cries of Jove in Cretb,

When round the boy divine, in arms they danced.

Boys still themselves, and beat to measured sounds

Their clashing shields, lest Saturn the shrill shriek 650

Should trace, and Rh^ba shed eternal tears.

Thus these the matron-goddess now precede :

Or else, perchance, they paint how every breast

Should burn with patriot fire, and every arm

Prove the firm guardian of a parent's years. 655

All these, though pageants well-devised, and bold. Will wander still from philosophic fact. For, far from mortals, and their vain concerns. In peace perpetual dwell th' immortal gods : Each self-dependent, and from human wants 660

Estranged for ever. There no pain pervades, Nor dangers threaten ; every passion sleeps, Vice no revenge, and virtue draws no boon.

Meantime the earth sensation never knows ; But, blest with the rude principles of things, 665

In various mode hence various forms she rears. Call, if thou choose it, the resounding deep Neptune, and Ceres term the golden grain ; Be Bacchus wine, its vulgar source forgot, And e'en this mass of senseless earth define 670

Parent of gods ; no harm ensues, — but mark, 'Tis fiction all, by vital facts disproved.

Thus varies earth in product ; and, aUke In primal seeds, thus varies all she bears. The steed, the steer, the fleecy flock that range 675

Beneath the same pure sky, from the same fount Their thirst that quench, and o'er the flowery lawn Crop the same herbage, differ still, through time. In form generic ; each parental stamp Retaining close, from sire to sire propelled. 680

Such the vast variance of primordial seeds ; Through every herb, through every fountain such. Each form, moreo'er, of animated life Compounded, flows from muscle, bone, and nerve,

BOOK n. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 349

Vein, heat, and moistnre ; yet e'en these comprise 685 Full many an atom, each, of shape unlike.

Thus fire itself is complex ; for if nought Deep blend besides, the germs, at least, combine Of heat, smoke, ashes, and translucent light : And reasoning thus, thy vigorous mind may deem 690 Still powers beyond lurk deeper, though unknown.

Of the same substance, as the fragrant gums Burnt o'er the altar to th' offended gods, Emits both taste and odour, hence from seeds Educed, of various figures ; odours oft 695

Piercing the nerves that tastes essay in vain. And tastes where odours fail : facts that evince Their forms diverse ; and prove that seeds unlike Rear the mixt mass difiused through all that lives. —

Mark but these fluent numbers ; many a type 700

To many a term is common ; but the terms. The numbers culled, as differing these from those, From different types evolve : not so diverse That the same type recurs not through the whole, Or that, recurring, it recurs alone 705

From types too bounded ; but from types alike Free to each term, yet ever new combined. Flows the vast change, th' harmonious system flows. Thus, through the world, the primal seeds of all, To all things common, re-arranged diverse, 710

In myriad forms shoot forth ; and herbs, and men. And trees umbrageous own the same fixt source.

Yet not in endless modes combine the seeds Of things at random ; many a monster else Would start tremendous, the fair frame of man 715

Sprout forth half formed, and trunks of trees have souls. Shapes then would swarm half earthly, half marine, And Nature's all-prolific womb propel, With breath of fire, Chimaeras ; things the sight Meets never, since from seeds, and powers precise, 720 All spring to life, and thus preserve their kinds.

Then all must spring, since all, from every food, To every tribe adapted, straight digests ; And, blending with each limb, the train renews Of acts appropriate ; while th' ungenial mass 1*1^

3W LUCRETIUS. BOOK H.

Meets earth unchanged ; or if, perchance, absorbed. Flies off impalpable through pores extreme. Void of all union, and for life unfit.

Nor deem each animated tribe alone Such laws avows — all nature feels their force. 730

For since the difference 'twixt created things Is total, their primordial seeds in form Must differ too : not that they ne'er commix Of equal shape, but e'en when mixt that still. From re-arrangement, the result is changed. 735

Nor only in their forms thus vary seeds Primordial ; but, alike, in weight, and power. In concourse, motion, intervening space. And close connexion ; changes that define. Not men and brutes alone, but bound secure 740

From ocean earth, and earth from heaven sublime.

But haste we, many a truth lies yet unsung Culled from my own loved labours. Deem not thou, When aught of substance black or white the view Solicits obvious, — deem not, in the germs 745

Of embryon matter, black or white inheres. Or aught besides of tint, where aught occurs, Rousing the vision ; since the seeds of things Live void of colours actual or conceived. This should'st thou doubt, contending nought exists 750 Through the wide world but must evince some hue. The doubt flows groundless. He, whose sightless orb Ne'er drank the day enlightened, still perceives Whate'er exists, though tints elude his ken. Hence not essential colours to the form 755

Of things created : frequent e'en ourselves. Mid the deep shade of night, by touch alone Prove what surrounds us, every hue extinct.

All hues, moreo'er, to all by turns convert ; A change primordial seeds can ne'er sustain ; 760

Since something still through nature must exist All change defying, lest th' entire surveyed Fall into nought ; for that which once admits Mutation dies, its pristine powers destroyed. — Tinge, then, with caution, the prime seeds of things, 765 Lest, hence, thou ope the doors of death to all.

BOOK n, ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 351

But though material atoms thus live void Of hue ; still many a differing form is theirs, Whence hues they gender, and their variance stamp. Much, then, import th' arrangement, and the powers, 770 The kinds, connexions of primordial seeds, Positions, impulse, and effects impelled ; Since, hence, with ease the mind may, instant, trace Why what is black this moment, should, the next. Pour o'er the view with alabaster dye. 775

Thus, when loud tempests tear the tortured main, The dashing surge is robed in dazzling white, This may'st thou fathom hence, and prove precise Why, oft though black, from combinations new Of its primordial atoms, added these, 780

And those withdrawn, oft, too, the deep should wear A vest contrasted, whitening. to the day. But were its primal atoms tinged themselves Black, or but blue, concussion ne'er could change The fixt result ; nor turn the black or blue 785

To the pure polish of the marble bust. Nor urge from seeds of varying tints, perchance. Springs, when combined, the main's resplendent face ; As in the cube mechanic many ^ shape Diverse unites to rear its ffame complete. 790

For as the keen sight in the cube surveys Those varying figures, so the splendid deep, Or aught of equal lustre, would evince The varying tinctures whence that lustre flows. The differing forms, moreo'er, the cube contains 795

Mar not its unity, but differing hues A blended tinge create, by each diversed.

A cause like this, too, all effect destroys ; Since white or black springs not from seeds so dyed, But seeds commixt of various dyes possest. 800

Though, doubtless, white flows rather from the want Of each existent tincture, than from seeds With black, in part, imbued, or aught besides Of equal contrast, and as firm a foe.

And, since all colours live but in the light, 805

Were hues essential to the seeds of things These, too, would die in darkness : for, resolve,

352 LUCBETIUS BOOK IL

What hues exist beneath the midnight gloom?

Hues bom of sun-beams, changing but their shades

As, playful, changes the refracted ray? 810

Thus the gay pigeon, as his plumes he waves,

Drinks in new tinctures from the noon-tide blaze :

Now glows the ruby, and now, tinged with blae;^

Sports the green emerald o'er his glossy neck.

Thus, too, the peacock, as direct, or bent 815

Falls the full beam, wears each prismatic dye.

Since, then, th* impinging light each hue creates.

So, without light, each, instant, must expire.

And as the stimulus the sight that strikes

Varies, from things that varying dyes educe, 820

Black, white, or aught besides, and nought imports,

Change how it may, th' existing hue, but sole

The different figures whence those hues are reared :

Hence useless colours to the seeds of things.

From varying forms by varying frictions roused. 825

Since, too, no seeds defined with tints are stained Defined alike, and every shape concurs In all that springs, whatever the hue evinced. Whence flows it, then, that every class alike Reflects not every tincture ? — whence that crows 830

Robe not in white from seedl that white create ? Or that the downy swan, in black arrayed. Or hues as hideous, ne'er the sight appals ?

As things, moreover, to parts minute divide, Th' anterior tincture fades. Thus fades away, 835

To dust impalpable reduced, the dye Of gold refulgent : thus the Tyrian woof. Frittered to threads, its purple pride foregoes ; Hence proving clear that hues from things concrete Evanish total ere to seeds dissolved. 840

From many a substance sound, or odour fine. Flies never ; nor the race of man bestows Odours, or sounds on all things. Judge then, hence. That, since not all things the keen sight discerns, Full many a substance, too, as void exists 845

Of varying hues, as these of scent, or sound : Things, than which nought the mind more clear perceives, Whate'er the powers possest of, or denied.

BOOK II. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 353

Nor deem primordial seeds devoid alone Of hues prismatic. Heat, and cold severe, 850

Moisture, and sound, these, too, they never know ; Nor aught of fluent odours, to the sense Hateful or sweet. Thus when, to please thfe fair. Some rich perfume the skilful artist plans, Drawn from the fragrant nard, the dulcet powers 855

Of marjoram, and myrrh, with studious heed From the pure olive first a juice he seeks Void of all scent, for nature such prepares, Lest, with th' effluvia thus selected choice, Aught else combine, and mar th' harmonious whole. 860

Thus void of scent primordial seeds must spring. Thus void of sound ; and hence nor scent, nor sound, Can give to things created : for themselves Nought can transmit but what themselves possess. And hence, moreover, the powers of heat, or cold, 865

Vapour, or taste, these never can bestow, Nor aught alike destructive, aught surveyed. Viscous, unfirm, or fragile ; aught educed From bodies soft, putrescent, or relaxed ; These thou must sever from primordial seeds 870

If things created on a base be built Immortal, whence the world's vast fabric lives, And nought to nought can waste with utter death.

This full premised, now, Memmius, mark what flows ; That all the sentient forms the sight surveys, 875

Whatever their powers, from senseless atoms spring. This every fact of every day, if scanned. Far from resisting, proves a truth most firm ; That sentient things, things void of sense create.

Thus into life th' insensate dunghill rears 880

The race of worms, when once the mingling shower Wakes the warm ferment through the putrid mass, Thus all things change to all things ; foliage, fruits. And the gay glebe to flocks, and herds convert ; And flocks, and herds to man ; and man, in turn, 885

Feeds the foul strength of birds, and barbarous beasts. From every food, thus Nature's chemic power Builds up the forms of life ; in every class Thus wakes the senses every class avows ;

2 A

3o4 LUCBETIUS. BOOK IL

As through the winter-stack full oft she spreads 890

The rushing blase, and turns the whole to fire. — Seest thou not hence, then, of what vast concern The modes in which primordial seeds combine. Act, or re-aot, give motion, or accept ?

This creed what hinders ? what perverts thy mind, 895 And locks thy senses from a truth so plain That sentient things from things insensate flow ? What but that sto^s, and stones, and earth's dull clod. Boast no sensation though alike educed ? — Yet mark, attentive, the sage muse ne'er yet 900

Has urged that all things doubtless must alike Spring forth percipient, and with sense endued : But that of vast concern, as hence alone, Sensation ceaseless flows — the modes diverse Of motion, order, form, with which, through time, 905 Primordial atoms blend : — modes the dull clod Knows not, its frame unorganized and rude. Though the dull clod, or sapless root as dull, When the moist shower the putrid strife has roused. Themselves the vermin race in crowds create : 910

Changed, then, their nature, from arrangements new. And full empowered perceptive life to rear.

Those, too, who hold that sentient forms throughout Spring but from sentient seeds, those seeds must deem Soft and unsolid, since unsolid all, 915

And soft each region, where sensation reigns, Th' interior bowels, and the flesh without ; And hence such seeds must doubtless waste to nought.

Yet grant their dates eternal : such must then The total sense possess of things they rear, 920

Or sense of separate parts : but parts alone Have no perception, nor alone can live. ^

Each leans on each ; the loose dismembered hand Drops powerless ; nor can aught itself sustain. From the full form, the total sense that flows. 925

What then remains but that each seed exists An animal complete, endowed throughout With vital functions ? but resolve, how then Prove they the immortal principles of things ? Whence draw the power, possest by nought that breathes,

BOOK n. ON THB NATUBE OP THINGS. 355

To live through time, and brave the attacks of fate ? 931

But grant e'en this : their combination still No forms could rear, but those of sentient life ; Nor men, nor herds, nor savage beasts produce Aught but themselves ; the sense generic shown . 935 Varjdng as varies the generic frame.

Nor urge that sentient ^eeds, at times, perchance. Lose all sensation, and insensate live ; Why with an attribute so soon destroyed Robe them at all then ? Rather, mark how soon 940

The insensate yolk incipient life betrays. And springs a vital chick : mark, as the muse Has earlier sung, how from the warm ferment Of earths putrescent, by the clouds bedewed, The vermin nations rise, with soul replete, 945

Thus spreading sense where sense was none before.

Nor deem sensation senseless seeds create Sole from some change anterior, long educed Ere into birth the sentient being springs. What more fallacious ? since nor birth complete 950

Nor aught of change can Nature's self create But from the sympathy of primal seeds : Nor, till the frame percipient be combined. Can e'er perception flow ; since wide through space. In earth, in air, in streams, and lambent Are, 955

Are spread the rude materials, unarranged. And void of social bond, whence first exists Each vital motion, whence each guardian sense Springs, and the complicated frame protects.

When too, abrupt, falls some tremendous blow, 960

Throughout the system suffers, every sense Of soul and body discomposed alike. Then fails the arrangement of primordial seeds. Each vital action fails ; and, shook severe Through every limb, the principles of life 965

Dissolve each fond connexion, quit their post, And through th' external pores fly ofl* at large. For what but this can force extreme effect ? The dread solution, and the death of all.

But oft, when less the violence displayed, 970

The vital motions left may triumph still,

2 A 2

356 LucBETnrs. book n.

And quell the mighty tumult, and recall,

From the rude grasp of fate, each active power

Marshalled anew, and everj sense relume.

For else, why rather should those powers retreat 975

Back from destruction with recruited strength,

Than still proceed, and burst the bars of life ?

As pain, too^ springs when, midst th' interior frame, Or limbs extreme, by sudden force convulsed Each vital atom shakes through all its course, 980

But yields to pleasure when the shock subsides, — Since primal seeds can ne'er such shock sustain, — No pain they know, nor e'er the fruit can pluck Of dear delight ; hence nought of sense is theirs.

But if, that things sensation may possess, 985

Their seeds primordial must possess the same,— Say, from what seeds, then, springs the race of man ? From those, forsooth, incited quick to laugh. Those down whose cheeks perpetual tears distil. And those deep-versed in causes and effects, 990

Discussing grave the seeds that rear themselves. For grant this system, and whatever exists Must spring from seeds minuter, endless urged. And draw, progressive, every power displayed Of thought, or laughter, from the parent stock. 995

This if thou smile at, and contend that things With power endowed of laughter, speech, and thought Still rise from seeds that no such powers avow. Why not concede, then, sentient things alike May flow from seeds of total sense devoid ? 1000

All spring from heaven, ethereal, all that live : The sire of all is Ether : he, full oft, In dulcet drops descends of genial rain And the bland Earth impregnates. Timely, then, %

Rises the glossy blade, the joyous leaf 1005

Shoots forth, and man and beast, in countless tribes. Fed from the various banquet of the fields, Live their gay hours, and propagate their kinds. Maternal, hence, is Earth most justly named. Thus all things rise, thus all again return : 1010

Earth takes what earth bestowed ; and back to heaven Remount the ethereal dews from heaven that fell.

BOOK n. ON THE NATtJEB OP THINGS. 357

Yet death destroys not the prime seeds of things,

But scatters only ; atoms hence commix

With stranger atoms, every form commutes, 1015

And every tint ; perception springs amain,

And, instantaneous, wastes again to nought.

Of such vast moment are the modes diverse

In which primordial seeds their posts arrange,

Act, and re-act, give motion, and accept : 1020

For deem not seeds thus floating most minute

Through the vast whole, now obvious to the view,

Now quick disperst, can ne'er eternal live.

Such then the moment, as already urged,

With which the types, these numbers that compose, 1025

Change their positions, and retreat, or blend.

Thus the same letters, or with variance small,

Heaven, earth, and water, seas, and suns express.

Fruits, plants, and mortals ; common are the tjrpes,

The terms but change from combinations new. 1030

Thus change material things : their primal seeds

In site, connexion, interval of space.

Position, motion, weight, attractive power.

In these as varying, varies the result.

Now bend thy mind to truths profounder still : 1035 For stranger doctrines must assault thine ear, And a new scene of wonders yet unfold. Whate'er is new, though obvious and defined. Grains not an easy credence ; but when once Flies the fresh novelty, th' unsteady soul 1040

Yields its full faith to facts mysterious most.

The vault of heaven cerulean, spangled thick With stars, and with th' effulsive lustre cheered Of sun and moon refulgent — were at once This scene celestial o'er the race of man 1045

To burst abrupt — how would the nations start ! What wonders, then, be traced ! with what vast toil Would e'en the sage the prospect preconceive ! Yet now, full sated with the scene sublime, Man scarce lifts up his listless eyes to heaven. 1050

Cease, then, alarmed by aught profound, or strange. Right reason to reject ; weigh well the proofs Each scheme advances ; if by truth upheld

358 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IL

Embrace the doctrine ; but, if fiedse, abjure.

Urged thus, by truth, — ^beyond the world's wide walls 1055

Since space spreads boundless, the redundant mind.

Free in its flights, pants, ardent, to discern

What fills those realms where sight can never soar.

And first, th' entire of things, above, below. Search where thou wilt on every side alike 1060

Spreads unconfined : this, as already taught, Right reason proves, and many a clamorous fact. Then deem not thou, since thus perpetual space Flows infinite, and infinite the seeds That, from exhaustless founts, in endless modes 1065

Fly through the void, by endless motions urged. Deem not this visual system of the heavens Alone exists, unparalleled by aught, And that all matter elsewhere sleeps supine. Since too of its own nature the vast mass 1070

Sprang forth spontaneous, rousing every power To every mode of motion, rashly oft. Oft vain and fruitless, tiU, at length, it formed Th' unchanging rudiments of things sublime. And heaven, and earth, and main, and mortals rose : — 1075 Hence doubly flows it, other systems still. Like ours, must deck the vast ethereal void. Enfolded in its avaricious grasp.

Ample, moreo'er, the matter thus required. The place at hand, the cause efficient full, 1080

Whence new creations may for ever spring. Since, then, so boundless the great mass of seeds That endless ages ne'er could cast th' amount, — Since the same power presides, the nature stiU That reared this visual system, and alike 1085

Those seeds can mould to systems such as ours — The fact flows doubtless, mid the void immense, That other worlds in other parts must rise. Peopled with reasoning, and with brutal tribes.

Add, too, that nought, through universal space, 1090 Springs single, the sole progeny produced. The sole sustained ; still countless every class, Those, chief, percipient : the wild mountain herds, The race of man consociate, the mute fish

BOOK n. ON THE NATUBB OF THINGS. 359

With quivering fin, and all th' aerial tribes. 1095

Hence, too, nor heaven, nor earth, nor sun, nor moon,

Nor the broad main, nor aught besides, alone

Can live, but each unlimited in kind.

Each the same substance, the same seeds of death,

Bears in its frame, that stamp the ranks diverse II 00

More obvious, gendered by connubial love.

These truths avowed, all Nature shines at once, Free in her acts, no tyrant to control, Self-potent, and uninfluenced by the gods. For, O ye powers divine I whose tranquil lives 1 105

Flow free from care, with ceaseless sunshine blest, — Who the vast whole could guide, midst all your ranks ? Who grasp the reins that curb th' entire op things ? Turn the broad heavens, and pour, through countless worlds, Th' ethereal fire that feeds their vital throngs ? 1110

Felt every moment, felt in every place. Who form the louring clouds ? the lightning dart, And roll the clamorous thunder, oft in twain Rending the concave ?— or, full deep retired, Who point, in secret, the mysterious shaft 1115

That, while the guilty triumphs, prostrates stem The fairest forms of innocence and worth ?

Long after the wide world had risen, the sun Shot his young beams, and earth and sea rejoiced In infant being — still primordial seeds, 1120

From the vast compass of th' entire, conjoined ; Conjoined from every part ; hence earth and main Increased ; hence the broad mansions of the heavens Spread wider ; and th' ethereal dome was filled With new-born air; for all, harmonious, blend 1125

Kinds with their kinds, and thence those kinds augment. Earth from the seeds of earth, from fiery, fire. Air from aerial, from the dewy, dew : Till all-prolific Nature rears at length To full perfection the vast frame of things, 1130

And the gorged system can no more absorb Than what flies casual from th' external pores. Then boasts the whole completion ; Nature, then, Restrains all progress, every power matured.

For all with gradual growth that swells, and thus 1 135

360 LUCRETIUS. BOOK H.

Climbs, bj degrees, the scale of life adult.

Far less emits than wliat its frame receives.

Wide through the system flows the genial food

Towards every part disperst : yet not so wide

That much transudes external, and the day 1140

Thus loses larger than the day digests.

For still, though much evanish, ampler still

The nutriment that spreads, till the full form

Gains, by degrees, its point of perfect power. —

Then back, by gradual march, its strength declines, 1145

Its fond perfection, and, from day to day.

Melts all its vigour. — This the ceaseless course

Of things created. But those chief, with speed.

Waste into nought that boast a bulk immense ;

Since wider, here, the surface whence, each hour, 1 150

Flies off the light effluvium, nor with ease

Winds the fresh food through all the mighty mass,

By ceaseless strife exhausted, and a store

Asking far ampler than the i^tore received.

Thus all must perish, unsupplied within, llo5

And, from without, by blows tumultuous urged ;

Blows that, resistless, from whate'er adjoins.

Ply their full vigour till the victim yields.

Thus shall the world's wide walls hereafter sink In boundless ruins : thus, though yet sustained 1160

By food appropriate, and preserved entire. For not for ever will her powers digest The due recruit, nor Nature's hand supply. —

E'en now her glory fades, and the faint earth. That erst upreared such giant forms of life 11 65

In every class profuse, — scarce now protrudes, With utmost toil, a scant and puny race. For deem not thou some golden chain from heaven Each tribe conducted down to realms below ; Nor from the boisterous billows of the main 1 170

That mortals sprung : Earth from herself produced The various ranks that still herself sustains.

Then, too, spontaneous, from the soil she reared Those luscious fruits, those vines that gladden life ; And crowned with pasture, and with glossy corn, 1 175

Those fields where man now toils almost in vain :

BOOK ni. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 361

Where faints the steer, the plonghman faints fatigued,

And the keen share so wastes, mechanic art

Can scarce supply th' exhaustion : — such the call

For labour now, so foods forbear to rise. 1180

Thus musing, the rude husbandman shakes oft

His weary head ; his thriftless pains bewails.

Thriftless too sure : and, while his wandering thought

Weighs, with the present, the fair times elapsed,

Envies the lot the men of yore enjoyed. 1 185

Then, luckless planter of degenerate vines !

His day he curses, then all heaven he tires.

Muttering that earlier times, though virtuous more.

Should, thus, have more been favoured, — ^thus have reared

An ampler harvest e'en from narrower farms,— 1190

Heedless that all things by degrees must fail.

Worn out by age, and doomed to certain death.

BOOK in.

O Glory of the Greeks ! who first didst chase

The mind's dread darkness with celestial day.

The worth illustrating of human life —

Thee, glad, I follow — ^with firm foot resolved

To tread the path imprinted by thy steps ; 5

Not urged by competition, but, alone.

Studious thy toils to copy ; for, in powers.

How can the swallow with the swan contend ?

Or the young kid, all tremulous of limb.

Strive with the strength, the fleetness of the horse; 10

Thou, sire of science ! with paternal truths

Thy sons enrichest : from thy peerless page,

Illustrious chief ! as from the flowery field

Th' industrious bee culls honey, we alike

Cull many a golden precept — ^golden each — 15

And each most worthy everlasting life.

For as the doctrines of thy godlike mind Prove into birth how nature first uprose,

362 LUCRETIUS. BOOK OL

All terrors vanish ; the blae walls of heaven

Fly instant — and the boundless void throughout 20

Teems with created things. Then too we trace

The powers immortal, and their blest abodes ;

Scenes where the winds rage never — unobscured

By clouds, or snow white drifting, — and o'erspread

With laughing ether, and perennial day. 25

There nature fills each want, nor aught up-springs

To mar th' eternal harmony of soul. —

Yet nought exists of hell's infernal reign :

Nor hides the solid earth the scenes from sight

Spread through the void beneath. — On these vast themes 20

As deep I ponder, a sublime delight,

A sacred horror sways me — Nature thus

By thy keen skill through all her depths unveiled.

Since, then, we £rst have sung the make minute Of primal seeds ; how, in spontaneous course Z5

Re-active urged, their various figures fly, And, hence, how all things into life ascend. Next let our daring verse the frame unfold Of soul, and reasoning mind ; — and chase, far chase Those fears of future torment that distract 40

Man's total being ; with the gloom of death Tinge all things ; nor e'en suffer once the tide Of present joy to flow serene and pure.

For though, full oft, men boast they far prefer Death to disease, or infamy of name, 45

Assert they know the soul but springs from blood. Or, if the humour urge them, is but air. And hence, that useless all the lore we bring : — Oft flows the boast from love of praise alone. For when of home debarred, from every haunt 50

Of man cut off, with conscious guilt o'erpowered. Midst every ill such boasters still survive : Still fell new victims, and th' infernal powers Implore with black oblations ; through their breast Religion thus with ten-fold force propelled. 55

Through doubtful dangers, hence, through straits severe Pursue the race of man ; then sole ascends Truth from the lowliest bosom, then alone Flies all profession, and the fact unfolds.

BOOK m. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 363

E'en restless avarice, and love of fame, 60

So oft to deeds unrighteous that seduce. And spread the growing guilt from man to man, By ceaseless toil urged on, and night and day, Striving the crowd t' o'ertop — these pests of life Draw half their vigour from the dread of death. 66

For infamy, contempt, and want severe. These chief embitter mortals ; these, they deem. Death's foremost train ; and, studious these to shun, Far off they fly, still wand'ring from the right. Urged on by fear, and kindle civil broils, 70

And murder heap on murder, doubling thus. Ceaseless, their stores insatiate : raptured high When breathes a brother his last, languid groan ; And with mistrust, through every nerve alarmed. Joining the feast some jovial kinsman forms. 75

From the same source, the same deep dread of death. Springs Enyt poisoning all things : mortals, hence, Lament to power that this, to glory that, Crown'd with the people's plaudits should ascend. While all unnoticed, mid the crowd obscure 80

Themselves still jostle ; pining every hour. For names, for statues ; and, full oft, so strong From dread of death, hate they the light of heaven. That, sick at heart, through their own breast they plunge The fatal steel : heedless that this alone, 85

This pungent dread, engenders all their cares, Nips the keen sense of shame — ^turns friends to foes. And bursts the bonds that harmonize the heart. For, goaded hence, hell ever in his sight, Man oft betrays his country ; and, for gold, 90

Yields up the reverend form that gave him birth. For as the boy, when midnight veils the skies. Trembles and starts at all things — so, full oft. E'en in the noon, men start at forms as void Of real danger as the phantoms false 95

By darkness conjured, and the schoolboy's dread. A terror this the radiant darts of day Can ne'er disperse. To truth's pure light alone. And wisdom yielding, intellectual suns.

First, then, the mind, the spirit named at times^ VQ^

364 LUCRETIUS. BOOK in.

That which controls, which measures sentient life.

Forms of this mortal make a part as clear

As the keen eye, the finger, or the foot

Here cleave we firm, though many a sage contends

The mental sense no part specific frames, 105

But springs the vital product of the whole.

This the Greek schools term harmony — ^a sense

Of living power while still th' essential soul

No point appropriates — ^as corporeal health

Flows not from sections, but the form entire. 110

Thus, deem they, springs the mind ; a tenet fraught.

If right we judge, with error most absurd.

For oft th' external frame disease sustains,

While all escapes within : and thus, reversed,

The mind oft sickens while the body thrives : 115

As, when the gout the tortured foot inflames,

The distant head still boasts its wonted ease.

When, too, sweet sleep o'er all the wearied limbs

Spreads his soft mantle, and locks every sense.

Still something stirs within us — something urged, 120

E'en then, to various motions, and alive

To joy's glad impulse, or fictitious fears.

Yet more ; to prove the soul a part exists Constituent of the body — to subvert This fancied harmony — mark oft how life 125

Mid the dread loss of many a limb endures ; While instant as the vital heat but ebbs, The vital breath flies ofl" — pulsation stops, And heart and limb all lifeless lie alike. Hence may'st thou judge that not in every part 130

Dwells the same portion of percipient power. Nor health from each flows equal ; but that those Chief nurture life, and check its flight abrupt. Reared from aerial seeds, or fluent heat. As these exist, then, heat and vital air, 135

Health through the members sickens or abounds.

This proved precise — that soul, that mind exists Part of the body — let such sages still Hold the term harmony — deduced, perchance, From the sweet chords of Helicon ; let such 140

Still something mean, whate'er that something be.

BOOK in. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 365

No name of theirs expresses : thou, meanwhile, Quitting such contests, mark what yet remains. ^

The soul, the mind, then, one same substance forms Minutely blended ; but, in vulgar phrase, 145

That call we mind, or spirit, which pervades. As chief, the heart's deep avenues, and rules The total frame. Here grief, and terror spring, Here pleasure plays ; and here we hence conceive Dwells mind, or spirit ; while the remnant soul, 150

Through every limb diffused, the mind's dread nod Obeys, and yields submissive to its will. Of its own powers, mind reasons and exults, While soul, like flesh, can never rouse alone. As oft the head, or eye, some anguish keen 155

Sustains, while yet the general frame escapes, So, in itself, the mind, full oft, endures Rapture or pain, while yet the soul at large. Spread through the members, nought of change perceives. But when the mind some shock severe subdues, 160

The total soul then sympathizes : then. Should deadly horror sway o'er all the frame Spreads the cold sweat, the livid paleness spreads. Clouds dim the sight, the palsied tongue is mute. Tingles the ear, and every limb dissolves. 165

Oft, too, from mental terror faints the frame : Whence may'st thou mark how close the bond that kniti The soul and spirit ; this exciting that. And that, when roused, deep-rousing every nerve.

Hence prove we, too, that both alike exist 1 70

Corporeal : — hence, since every member yields With quick submission to the joint behest : Since bursts from sleep the body, since the face Obsequious varies, and the total man Feels the full sway profound ; for nought can act 175

Where touch subsists not, nor can touch subsist Void of corporeal base : — can we, then, doubt That soul, that spirit must corporeal spring ?

In all, moreo'er, of ease or anguish keen The body feels, the assenting mind partakes. 180

Thais, when some deadly dart through many a nerve. Mid many a bone, tremendous, winds its way

366 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IIL

Quick faints the spirit : — a fond wish to die

Now sways, and now the native love of life.

]V4*aterial, hence, the mental frame must live, 185

Since by material arms so soon assailed.

Now list attentive, while we next unfold Its make mysterious, and to sight educe.

First, then, we finn maintain the mind results From seeds of matter, most minute and smooth. 190

This hence we prove, that nought so swiftly speeds As what the mind determines and completes ; The mind, whose keen rapidity o'erpowers All that the sight marks instantaneous most. But what thus rapid moves, from seeds must spring 195 Most exquisitely subtile, and rotund, Roused into action by minutest force. Thus moves the fluent stream, urged on with ease. Since reared from atoms polished, and exile, While the tough honey, of compacter frame, 200

More tardy flows, and ampler force demands. For more tenacious here the total mass. From heavier seeds engendered, tenuous less. And less globose. Thus zephyr's gentlest breath Wide scatters, oft, the seeds the poppy rears, 205

Heaped in the sun-beam, — while the grosser mass Of congregated stones, or missile darts Feels no impression. Hence material things Move brisk or sluggish, as from atoms reared Light and globose, or denser, and more rough. 210

Since then the mind, in every act, we trace Most voluble, from seeds of subtlest size, Eotund and light, its mystic mal^e must spring : A fact, O friend to truth ! thou oft shalt find Of utmost moment in what yet remains. 215

Hence learn we, too, of what attenuate frame The mind consists ; and to what trivial space Must shrink its texture if compacted close — That, when in death the wearied body sleeps. And soul and spirit wander from their post, 220

E'en then the sight no diminution marks In weight or figure ; death usurping sole The warm-breathed vapour, and the vital sense.

BOOK III. ON THE NATUBK OP THINGS. 367

From seeds minutest, hence, the soul entire Must flow, — through all the frame profusely poured ; 225 And, e'en when fled, still leaving every limb Its wonted weight, its figure most precise. So, from the juice of Bacchus, when flies off^ Its flower ethereal, from the light perfume When mounts the essential spirit, or from man 230

Th' excreted lymph exhales — ^the curious eye Nought marks diminished, — the same weight survives, Th' same fixt bulk, since from minutest seeds Springs the light scent, the ethereal spirit springs.

Hence doubly flows it why the mind's pure frame 235 Must, too, be reared from seeds of subtlest size, — Hence, as its flight to visual change creates. But bulk alike, and substance still endure.

Yet not unmixt its nature : the light gas Breathed from the dying, in its texture blends 240

Heat, air, and vapour, ever each with each Compacted ; vapour, in its ample pores. Absorbing heat, and heat ethereal air.

Triple the substance, hence, the soul that builds ; Yet e'en the whole perception ne'er can form ; 245

For nought in each subsists of power t' excite Those sensile motions whence perception flows. Hence some fourth substance, doubtless, must we deem, Conjoint existing ; which, though void of name, Springs from minutest atoms, lightest most 250

And most attenuate ; deep-endowed with power Of fleetest speed, and hence, that first begets Those sensile movements that the frame pervade. This first begets, as formed from subtlest seeds. Next heat the incipient action, vapour next 255

Partakes, and air posterior, till the soul Rouses throughout : then flows the blood, then feels Each vital organ, — ^till, through every bone. E'en to its central marrow, winds, in turn. The sinuous rapture, or the sense of pain. 260

Yet pain, thus deep within, can never pierce With keen corrosion, but the total man Shakes from his basis — ^life no more subsists. And the light soul through every pore flies oC

368 LUCBETIUS. BOOK ID.

Hence less profound descends, in general ills, 265

Th' excited action, and man still survives.

And here, in phrase appropriate, would we prove In what firm bonds, what various modes, the make Of each with each commixes, but the dearth Of terms select restrains us ; yet attend 270

While thus our utmost efforts we essay.

Each primal substance, then, with each coheres In every act so firm that nought conceived Can sever ; nought can central space admit ; But as the powers they live of one joint frame. 275

As the fresh victim blends in every limb Heat, taste, and odour, while the total builds But one compacted mass, so here, alike. But one same nature flows from heat and air, And mystic vapour, and the power unnamed 280

That rears the incipient stimulus, and first Darts sentient motion through the quivering frame. Far from all vision this profoundly lurks. Through the whole system's utmost depth diffused. And lives as soul of e'en the soul itself. 285

As with each limb the general spirit blends, Though ne'er discerned, so subtle and so few Its primal seeds — so, through the spirit, spreads This form ineffable, this mystic power, Soul of the soul, and lord of mortal man. 290

Thus, too, commixt must vapour, heat, and air, Live through each limb united ; and, though oft Each rise o'er each triumphant, still uprear One frame harmonious, lest the power of air. Of heat, or vapour, each from each disjoined, 295

Mar all sensation, and fly off dissolved.

Heat springs superior in the mind enraged, When burns the total system, and the eye Darts forth its lurid lightnings : vapour chill The ascendance gains when fear the frame pervades, 300 And ruthless Horror, shivering every limb ; While the pure air, of tranquillizing power, Smooths all the visage, and the soul serenes. Heat sways, as urged already, in the form With acrid breast, that rouses soon to ire ; 305

BOOK in. ON THE NATUBB OF THINGS. 369

Chief in the rampant lion, whose proud heart

Bursts with impetuous roaring, nor can bound

Th' infuriate tide that ceaseless raves within.

For ampler vapour mark the timid deer :

Quick spreads its chilling dew through every limb 310

In many a tremor quivering ; while the ox

Proves, through his placid life, a temper formed

From air supreme. Him ne'er the torch of ire

Maddens abrupt in clouds and smoke involved,

Nor shuddering fear transfixes ; but, remote, 315

'Twixt both he stands, and lifts his honest front.

The trembling deer, the lion gaunt and grim.

Thus varies man : though education trim Add its bland polish, frequent still we trace • The first deep print of nature on the soul, 320

Nor aught can all — erase it : ever, .whence. This yields to sudden rage, to terror that. While oft a third beyond all right betrays A heart of mercy. Thus, in various modes, The moral temper, and S3rmphonious life 325

Must differ ; thus from many a cause occult The sage can ne'er resolve, nor human speech Find phrase t' explain ; so boundless, so complex, The primal sources whence the variance flows ! Yet this the muse may dictate that so few 330

The native traces wisdom ne'er can rase, Man still may emulate the gods in bliss.

Thus through each limb th' impressive spirit spreads. Lord of the body, the prime fount of health. Thus with each limb in league so close combines 335

Nought void of death can sever them in twain. As the clear frankincense its fond perfume Can ne'er desert till both together die, So, from the flesh, the spirit and the soul Part not till each one common fate dissolve. 340

So live they mutual, so, from earliest birth. In intertwined existence, that apart. Nor this nor that perception can possess, The joint result of each, by effort joint First kindled, and through all the frame diffused. 345

This frame, moreo'er, alone can never spring,

2 B

370 LtrcKETros. book m.

Can never thrive, the dread attack of death

Can never conquer. For, with aim sublime.

Though the light vapour from the tepid Ijmph

Fly off profuse, while yet the lymph itself 350

Exists uninjured — the deserted limbs

Not harmless, thus, can bear the soul's escape,

Doomed to one ruin, and one common grave.

So, from their first crude birth, the vital acts

Of soul and body each solicits each 355

With fond contagion, from the earliest hour

The new-formed fetus quickens in the womb.

No power can sever them devoid of death. —

Since life but fiows, then, from the two combined.

Combined alone their natures must subsist. 360

Hence those who hold the body never feels, But sole the spirit through the body poured. Each vital fact oppose : for how, resolve. Could man e'er deem the body crowned with sense But from such facts instructed and confirmed ? 366

True — body feels not when the spirit flies. For sense from each springs mutual, and, in death, Not sense alone is lost, but much besides.

To deem the eyes, then, of themselves survey Nought in existence, while th' interior mind 370

Looks at all nature through them as alone Through loop-holes, is to trifle — sight itself The creed absurd opposing every hour. For oft the eye-ball dares not meet the day, The flood of light overpowering : but were eyes 375

The mind's mere loop-holes, toil were never theirs. Then too, each portal the reflected beam Must more obstruct than usher ; — and, removed, Th' exulting mind must drink a double day.

Nor be the sacred doctrine here advanced 380

Urged by Democritus, that soul extends Atom for atom, through the total frame. With grosser body : for as less of size The soul's primordial seeds than those that rear Th' organic structure, so in number too 385

Yield they, — less freely through the limbs diffused. Hence ma/st thou rather deem the soul's pure seeds

BOOK in. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 371

Placed at such interyals as just suffice

To rouse alone when needful, through the frame,

Percipient tnotions. For full oft the dust 390

Blown by the breeze, or fine fugacious chalk,

Lights on the limbs unheeded : so, at eve.

The dews we feel not, nor the silky threads

By dexterous spider spun from spray to spray

That twine around us, — nor the tattered web 395

From some old roof that on the hair descends,

Nor the soft down of feathers, nor the goss

Sportive and light, that scarcely falls at last.

Nor live we conscious, frequent, of the tread

Of animalcules, or the secret path, 400

O'er all our frame, the busy gnat pursues.

For many a primal seed, that rears at large

Each member, must be stimulated first.

Ere the keen atoms of the soul, hence roused,

Engender sense, through every severing space . 405

Blending, rebounding, and reblending still.

But 'tis the mind guards chief the gates of life, And than the soul with ampler vigour sways. For, without mind or spirit, soul itself In no one portion through the man can live 410

E'en for a moment : as companion fond With speed it follows, dissipated wide. And leaves the limbs beneath the ice of death : While he whose mind, whose spirit safe subsists. Still holds existence, though th' exterior form 415

Throughout be mangled ; e'en though much of soul, Though every limb be lost, he still survives Deep in the remnant trunk ; the vital air Still breathes, and lingers out his joyless hours. Thus, though the visual orb be wounded, still, 420

If safe the central pupil, sight remains : Where'er descends the blow, should this alone Elude its vengeance, ruin ne'er ensues. But, if of this the least existent point Once suffer, though the total else escape, 425

Light fails immediate*, and dread darkness reigns. Such the connexion 'twixt the soul and mind.

Now mark profound : to teach thee how this ««v>!^

2 B 2

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XTCSETXCS. BOOK HL

lU^tn. ankie sms: periBL. — sexr tae maae 430

SifitL pour iLTtL zmniba^ tboBr TIiHSinong iBVtii W4JI wijTtJrr. sdc witi: sweetes; iabciiir fnllnd

Here ^ liik'e impon : and was ^wheti we nzge

Ti«e bifiL is OKirtaL ti:i§ tbe xoiiid inchiiipis : 435

?> jcL ti*eir join: bood. tadr ek»e oonnexian socfa.

I' ix sft. Xiftving prav«d. taez^ this jctcennate power Ff (Hi: feubtiest atoms reared, minuipr £0* 1 liHB tiiUve of water, aooke. or booram misL ^Aijfjh mucL in «peed h conqoexs. and. irr forse 440

Fiur Ik:^ ii rous^ 10 actiao-— for inll ofi K'eD tije Ikint piianiasmE of soch forms alone 'ILe soul excites, af when, in deep repoBe. TLh fragrant altar emoke^. and Taponrs rich Kioe to tii^ view — a seiiBe. no doubt, indneed 44d

> rom the liglit phantasme of substantial fomiB Floating around us — this already proved, #Judge next, feince h'mph when bursts th" endomng vase. yiowa at each fracture, since fugacious smoke, hiii<;« vapourg vanish into viewless air, 450

Judge how the soul must dissipate amain. How booner perish, and its primal seeds Sp<:cdi<ir diohoh e, wiien once the flesh tbev quit. Foj' uliLvji this fle&h, the vase the soul that bounds, iiouudu it no more when bruised by fordgn foixje, 455

Or of itij life-bhx>d robbed, — ^bow canst thou deem 'I'Jj' unsolid etlAcr, or that aught more rare 'i'han flesh itself^ the soul can e'er confine?

'l^iui miud, iJioreo'er, as every hour confirms. Springs with the body, with the body grows, 460

A lid yields ahke to years. The tottering babe. Weakly of limb, betrays a mind as weak : JiiiL, as his strength matures, his vigorous soul iiipens ia reason, till in equal hour,

As age o'ereoraes, rfnd every organ fails, 465

Kail too his mental powers : then raves the tongue, Tiiu judgment raves, the total man declines, And, in a moment, all alike expires, llenoe the whole nature of this reasonin^: frame

BOOK in. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 373

Must all dissolve, as smoke in ambient air, 470

Hence since, as urged above, all springs alike. All ripens gradual, and together droops.

As, too, the body feels full oft the force Of bitter pains, and many a huge disease — So strives the mind with grief, and cruel care, 475

Hence proved partaker of one common fate.

In many an ill, moreo'er, the flesh sustains, The judgment suffers: the distracted wretch Now raving wild, and sinking, now profound In stupid slumber ; his fixt eyeballs stare, 480

His head hangs heavy, sound no more is heard. Nor the fond visage noticed e'en of those, Who yet, yet calling back to life, bedew With many a tear his mouth and cheeks suffused. Hence must the mind too, with the body cease, 485

Since by diseases thus alike transfixt^ For grief, for sickness, equal, the dread work Of death accomplish, as each hour confirms.

Why, too, when once the pungent power of wine Flies through the system, and the blood inflames, 490

Why torpid grows each organ ? reels each limb ? Falters the tongue ? rebels the maddening mind ? Why swim the eyes ? and hiccough, noise and strife, And each consociate ill their force combine ? Why but that deep the frantic bowl disturbs, 495

Ev'n in the body, the secluded mind ? But what can once be thus disturbed — what once Impeded — should the hostile power augment, Must perish, doubtless, void of future days.

Oft, too, some wretch, before our startled sight, 500 Struck, as with lightning, by some keen disease, Drops sudden : — by the dread attack o'erpowered, He foams, he groans, he trembles, and he faints ; Now rigid, now convulsed, his labouring lungs Heave quick, and quivers each exhausted limb. 505

Spread through the frame, so deep the dire disease Perturbs his spirit ; as the briny main Foams through each wave beneath the tempest's ire. He groans, since every member smarts with pain, And fi'om his inmost breast, with wontless toil, 510

374 LucaETius. book in.

Confused, and harsh, articalation springs.

He raves, since soul and spirit are alike

Disturbed throughout, and severed each from each.

As urged above, distracted by the bane.

But when, at length, the morbid cause declines, 615

And the fermenting humours from the heart

Flow back — ^with staggering foot the man first treads,

Led gradual on to intellect and strength.

Since, then, the soul such various ills endures. E'en in this solid frame, — such various modes 520

Feeb of severe distraction— canst thou deem, In the wide air unsheltered and forlorn. Mid boisterous winds, it ever could exist ?

And as the mind, like body, when diseased Heals oft, and owns the genial power of drugs, 525

Hence springs a proof that mind is mortal too. For he the secret soul, or aught besides, Who fain would change, must lessen or augment Its primal atoms, or combine anew :

But things immortal ne'er can be transposed, 530

Ne'er take addition, or encounter loss. For what once changes, by the change alone Subverts immediate its anterior life.

Sickening, or healed, then, by balsamic herbs, The seeds of death alike the soul betrays. 535

So triumph facts o'er all the sophist's art Precluding answer, doubly silenced here.

Of man, moreo'er, by slow degrees, we mark. Limb after limb consume : first the pale toes. The nails grow livid ; in succession next 540

The feet, and legs ; till gradual, o'er the frame, Creeps the chill track of death. — Since, then, the soul Thus suffers, nor one moment can resist Sound, and entire, its make must mortal prove. But should'st thou deem, when thus assailed, it shrinks 545 Back through each member, to one point condensed — Then must that point, towards which the soul retreats, Throng with increased sensation : but as this Time ne'er evinces, it must still disperse Like tattered shreds by every wind destroyed. 550

Yet grant the converse, and the soul allow

BOOK m* ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 375

In those concentrates, gradual who decline ; —

Say what imports it whether wide it waste

From limb to limb, or perish from one point ?

Still more and more sensation fails, and life 555

Less and still less its dwindled power sustains.

Since, too, the mind forms part of man, and dwells In one fixt spot, as dwells the eye or ear, Or aught besides of sense that governs life ; And since, moreover, the sight, the hand, the nose, 560 Once severed from us, feel not, nor exist. Dissolving instant — so the mind alike Lives not alone without th' exterior frame. Which like a vessel holds it, or aught else. If aught there be, of bond compacter still. 665

So to the body cleaves th' adhesive mind.

The vital power, moreover, of each subsists Alone conjoint, for mutual is their life. Nor without body can the soul fulfil

Its destined functions, nor the body live 570

Of soul devoid, participant of sense. As the bare eye, when rooted from its orb. Sees nought around it, spirit thus and soul Nought can accomplish singly ; — hence diffused Through every vessel, organ, bone, and nerve^ 575

Of all that breathes. Nor part their primal seeds With long interstice, fatal to the power Of resilition ; rather so confined, As sensile motions fits them best t' excite : Such as, at death, when mixt with vacant air, 580

'Twere vain to expect, of all restraint devoid. For air itself must body first become Compact and vital, ere the secret soul Its pores can tenant, or those motions urge, Urged, during life, through all the sentient frame. 585 Hence doubly fiows it why the soul and mind, One in themselves, of body when disrobed, And scattered boundless, instant should dissolve.

Since, too, the body the departed soul Endures not, but with putrid smell decays, 590

Canst thou, then, doubt the soul, when thus effused, Like smoke flies total, every seed disperst ?

376 LUCRETIUS. BOOK DI.

And that th' external frame thus sinks defiled

In putrid death, since from their wonted posts

Urged 'off, through every passage, every pore, 595

Press the percipient seeds, from every Umb,

From every memhrane o'er the system spread ?

And seest thou not, from many a fact hence proved.

That through the total body lives the soul,

And e'en in body severs, seed from seed, 600

Ere thence expelled, and scattered into air ?

E'en during life the fractured soul seems oft From force abrupt half-hurried from her home ; Each vital function failing, and the face, As though in death, all pallid, changed, and wan. 605

Such the deep swoon evinces, when within Sinks the faint spirit, and each prostrate power Pants for its final doom. Such then the force That mind and body oft alike unnerves That, but the least augmented, death ensues. 610

Can, then, the soul, thus impotent of frame. When once disrobed, abandoned, and exposed. Through the wide air, to every boisterous breeze. Can it then triumph, dost thou firmly deem. Not o'er all time, but e'en one moment live? 615

Nor do the dying e'er the soul perceive Eush out entire, when exiled from the heart, The bronchial tube first filling, then the throat, And mouth successive ; but at once it fails In its own region, as each sense alike 620

Fails in its destined theatre of power. Were, too, its date immortal, man no more. At his last hour, would mourn the severing blow: Charmed to throw off his vesture, like the snake, Or, like the stag his antlers, and be free. 625

Why, too, are wisdom and the mind restrained To one sole organ, while the feet, the hands. These never gender ? why but that each spot Exists for some fixt function — nor can e'er Pervert its destined view ? while, through the whole, 630 Nice order reigns by nought preposterous marred. So flows the tide of things, nor water fire. Through time, creates, nor fire the sparry frost.

BOOK DI. * ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 377

Were, too, the soul immortal, and possest Of ancient powers when severed from the flesh, 635

Then with new organs must it, or we err, Be instant re-endowed ; for thus alone Th' infernal shades can tread the shores of hell. Thus painters feign them, and the hards renowned Of ancient times — thoughtless that eyes, and nose, 640 And hands, and mouth, to the divided soul Can jie'er pertain, nor e'en the sense of sound.

And since the total system soul pervades. And vital action — when some blow severe Midway divides it, part from part, abrupt, 645

Then must the soul alike be cleft in twain. Driven with the mangled body. But what thus Admits partition, and to foreign force Yields e'en but once, immortal ne'er can be.

Oft, arm'd with scythes, the warlike car, we read, 650 Hot with repeated slaughters, so abrupt Severs a limb, that o'er the field it lies With life long quivering, while the hero still Fights on, of pain unconscious : his high soul Absorbed so total, he nor heeds the loss 655

Of his broad shield, or shield-supporting hand. Whirled in the strife of coursers, and of cars. From this the sword-arm drops, while still the rock He climbs impetuous ; that, perchance, to earth Felled, on one leg yet vainly strives to rise ; 660

While, at his side, his amputated foot Its trembling toes still moves. Thus, too, the head. Whene'er dissevered from the vital trunk. Still keeps its look of life, with open eye Still stares, till all the gradual soul expire. 665

So should thy blade some serpent's length of tail Divide, quick-brandishing its furious tongue, The severed parts writhe, agonized, and broad Scatter the purple fluid ; while himself Looks round revengeful, and, from pain severe, 670

Gnashes the segments of his mangled frame.

Shall we then say that each divided part A perfect soul contains ? then with such souls The total form, ere injured^ must have thronged.

378 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IIL

Hence severs, then, the soul, though close combined, 675 Anterior, with the body ; and hence, too, Both, must alike be mortal, since alike To parts divisible with equal ease.

Grant, too, the soul immortal, and infused. At earliest birth, within us — whence, resolve, 680

This full oblivion of all past events, All former life ? — for if the soul so change. That nought remains of memory in its make, #

A change so total differs scarce from death. Thus, what before existed, must have ceased, 685

And on its ruins sprung what now exists.

If the light soul, moreo'er, then only join The full-formed body, when that body first Springs into birth, and treads the porch of life, Ne'er can it then, as though diffused at large, 690

E'en with the vital blood, through all the frame, Grow with each growing member : but confined. As in a den, in solitude must dwell. From the first hour exciting equal sense. Hence doubly flows it, souls can ne'er exist 695

Of birth devoid, nor free from final fate. Nor could they, as each daily fact confirms, If from without infused, the total frame Fit with such nice precision : for so close Blend they with every organ, bone, and nerve, 700

That e'en th' enamelled tooth sensation shares ; As oft its ache evinces, or the approach Of ice abrupt ; or when, beneath its gripe, Grate some harsh pebble mid the subject food. Nor thus connected could they e'er retreat 705

Safe, and uninjured through the sinuous paths Of organs, membranes, vesseb, bones, and nerves.

But, from without, th' insinuating soul. If still thou deem through all this frame diffused. Then, since diffused, much surer must it fail ; 710

For what thus flows diffusive, must dissolve. And perish, doubtless, forced through every pore. As vanish foods, through every mazy gland, Through every limb when urged, to different forms Converting gradual, so the mind, the soul 715

BOOK m. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 379

Howe'er entire, when first the flesh it meets

Dissolves by junction ; for through every sluice,

Through every organ intricate and fine,

Must percolate its atoms, severed hence.

And decomposed, — and hence the base alone 720

Of that which after sways th' external frame.

Thus must the soul a natal day possess. And final grave, an origin and end.

Fly, too, at death, the soul's pure'seeds entire. Or with the body are there still that rest ? 725

If aught remain, then idly must thou deem The soul immortal, since diminished thus, And shorn of substance ; but if all escape, If not an atom loiter — whence, I ask. Rears the putrescent carcass, in its womb, 780

The race of worms ? or sport o'er every limb The boneless, bloodless crowds of things unnamed ?

If from without thou deem their souls they draw, To each a soul entire, unheeding here What throngs must flock where dwelt but one before, 735 Pause yet one moment ere thou thus resolve : Such souls must, then, the vermin seeds themselves Have wise-selected, and their fabrics reared. Or into bodies entered ready formed. But nor can reason, if themselves have raised 740

The wretched buildings, for the toil account. Nor tell why thus for hunger, and disease. And shivering cold they thirst, or aught besides Of ill the body to the soul supplies.

Yet grant them anxious for such vile abodes, 745

Still must the structure far exceed their powers. Hence reared not by themselves. Nor from without Could they insinuate into bodies formed ; Since nor adapted to their sinuous pores. Nor framed for intercourse, and mutual act 750

Whence springs the fury that pervades throughout The ruthless breed of lions ? whence the craft The fox evinces, or the stag's wild fear. From sire to son through every race propelled ? Whence these and equaJ passions traced at large, 755

From life's first dawn, generic, through each class ?

380 LUCRETIUS. BOOK m.

Whence but that some fixt power of mind descends,

E'en with the lineal seed, through all begot.

Evolving gradual with the gradual growth ?

For were the soul immortal, changing oft 760

To different bodies, different tempers, then,

Must mark each order ; the Hyrcanian dog

Oft, then, must dread the high-horned stag's approach ;

Hawks fly from doves, e'en man himself turn brute.

And the orute tribes, preposterous, rule the world. 765

Nor heed the sophistry which here contends That souls oft change the body's change to meet : For that which changes must dissolve, and die. Severed its parts, its order all destroyed. Hence souls must, too, dissolve through every limb, 770 And with the body share one common fate.

But should'st thou urge that human souls their flight To human forms restrain — then, since once wise. To folly why relapse ? why spring not boys Replete with wisdom ? nor displays the colt 775

The skilful paces of the steed mature ? Why but that some fixt power of mind descends E'en with the lineal seed through all begot, Evolving gradual with the gradual growth ? Nor think the soul, too, weakens in a weak 780

And puny system, since most surely then Doomed to destruction ; by the change sustained Shorn of its vigour, and interior sense.

Why, if endeared not by one common birth. Thus should it pant in equal hour to reach 785

Perfection with the body ? or, reversed, Why long for freedom when the frame decays ? Fears, then, the soul confinement after death Mid the foul members ? or the dangerous fall Of its own tottering mansion ? But, reflect, 790

What lives immortal, danger ne'er can know.

What, too, so idle, as that souls should throng Round each vile intercourse, or beast that bears : Immortal souls ! contesting who shall first Enter the feeble fetus ; if, perchance, 795

This not decides them, and all strife precludes. That who first gains it, claims a prior right.

BOOK in. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 381

Trees not in ether, not in ocean clouds,

Nor in the fields can fishes e*er exist ;

Nor blood in planks, nor vital juice in stones : 800

But all springs definite in scenes defined.

So in the bosom lives, and there alone,

Mixt with its blood, and nerves, the secret mind :

There only lives, — for could it roam at all.

Then rather should we through the body's self, 805

The heel, or shoulder, or where else it chose.

Oft trace it wandering, than forlorn abroad.

Since e'en in body, then, the soul and mind

Are fixt thus definite — ^we amply prove

That out of body these can ne'er exist : 810

That when the flesh its certain doom sustains,

The soul must, too, through every limb dissolve.

To deem, moreo'er, that mortal can combine With aught immortal, — can together live Concordant, and in mutual duties blend, 816

Is full delirium. Can there be conceived Aught more unmeet, incongruous, or absurd, Than with a mortal that a frame should mix Immortal, doom'd to all its weight of woe ?

What lives immortal, too, must so exist, 820

Or from its own solidity, empowered Each blow to conquer, undivided still, As primal atoms, long anterior sung ; Or since, like vacuum, of all friction void. Free from all touch, by impulse unimpaired ; 825

Or from the want of circling space, in which The severing atoms may dissolve and fall ; Such want the boundless whole of nature proves. And hence eternal — for no place beyond Spreads, where its seeds could waste ; nor, from without, Can foreign force e'er enter to destroy. 831

But nor, as urged above, exists the mind All solid, since in all things void combines. Nor yet all vacuum ; nor, from the profound. Are wanting powers adverse that, into act 835

Once roused tempestuous, the whole mind derange, Or sever total ; — nor deficient space Spread widely round, through which, in countless modes^

382 LUCRETIUS. BOOK m.

The mental frame may crumble, and dissolve ;

Hence not precluded from the gates of death. 840

But shoidd'st thou still the soul immortal deem. Since guarded deep from many a mortal wound. Safe from full many an insult that assails The health exterior, and since many a blow. Aimed at its powers, discomfited recoils 846

Ere scarce ourselves the dread approach perceive. Still far thou wanderest ; for the common woes Excluding that from body draw their birth. Yet pines she anxious for to-morrow's fate, Yet shakes with dread, with carking care consmnes, 850 Or smarts from conscience of committed crimes. Add, too, that madness is her own — ^that oft All memory fails, and o'er each torpid power. Creeps the dull pool of lethargy profound.

Hence, death is nought, and justly claims our scorn, 8^ Since with the body thus the soul decays. And as we now, through long anterior time, Look back indifferent on the Punic hosts That threatened Rome, when, with the din of war. All shook tremendous heaven's high cope beneath, 860 And doubtful hung the scale which power should rule Earth, main, and mortals, with unrivalled sway ; So when we cease, and soul and body once Meet their joint doom whose union formed our lives. No ill shall then molest us, — nought alarm 866

Our scattered senses, and dissevered frame. Though earth with main, or main commix with skies.

E'en could the soul, the spirit still survive The wreck corporeal, and perception boast. To us what boots it, who exist alone 870

The joint result of soul and body mixt ? To us what boots it should some future time Collect our atoms, the dismantled frame Restore entire, and e'en with life relume, When once the memory of ourselves is fled ? 875

We heed not now what erst, in time elapsed. We have been, nor with anxious heart explore What from our dust hereafter may arise : For if thou weigh th' eternal tract of time

BOOK m. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 383

Evolved already, and the countless modes 880

In which all matter moves, thou canst not doubt

That oft its atoms have the form assumed

We bear ourselves this moment — ^though the mind

Recalls not now those scenes of being past ;

For many a pause the discontinuous chain 885

Of life has severed, and full many a mode

Of motion sprung to every s^nse adverse.

He to whom pain hereafter is decreed

Must then exist whene'er that pain arrives.

But as the man, whose atoms erst have lived, 890

Lives now unconscious of ills then sustained.

By death since decomposed, and every power

Of sense and memory scattered — hence we prove'

Death holds no sting t' alarm us ; that the man

To be who ceases, ceases from all woe ; 895

Nor aught imports it that he e'er was bom.

When death immortal claims his mortal life.

Should'st thou, then, mark some fool indignant burn At this alone, that, when existence fails. His corse may moulder, or in flames consume, 900

Or sate, perchance, the jaws of savage beasts — Believe him not : — some secret dread still lurks Of future pain, though e'en his lips deny That sense or thought can after death exist. Thus, if I err not, he conceals his creed, 905

Believes not life all-ceases, but that still Some future self his present will survive. For he who, living, shudders at the thought That birds or beasts his frame may soon devour, That frame divides not, but his self confounds 910

With his own future corse, whose dread decay This self, he deems, must witness and partake. Hence heaves his heart indignant at the doom Of mortal man : heedless that, after death. No other self shall then himself bemoan, 915

Nor feel the tooth that tears his mangled limbs. If, too, the tiger's tusk, the vulture's beak. Be deemed an ill — what lighter ill results From the red fury of the funeral pyre ? The fulsome tide of honey, o'er the frame 92Q

384 LUCRETIUS. BOOK 10.

Poured, cold and stiffening in the marble tomb ?

Or the sunk grave, by earth's vast pressure crushed ?

** But thy dear home shall never greet thee more ! No more the best of wives ! — thy babes beloved. Whose haste half-met thee, emulous to snatch 925

The dulcet kiss that roused thy secret soul. Again shall never hasten ! — nor thine arm, With deed heroic, guard thy country's weal ! — O mournful, mournful fate ! " thy friends exclaim^ " One envious hour of these invalued joys 930

Robs thee for ever ! " — But they add not here, " It robs thee, too, of all desire of joy :" A truth, once uttered, that the mind would free From every dread, and trouble. " Thou art safe ! The sleep of death protects thee ! and secures 935

From all th' unnumbered woes of mortal life ! While we, alas ! the sacred um around That holds thine ashes, shall insatiate weep. Nor time destroy th' eternal grief we feel ! " What then has death, if death be mere repose, 940

And quiet only in a peaceful grave. What has it thus to mar this life of man ?

Yet mar it does. E'en o'er the festive board. The glass while grasping, and with garlands crowned. The thoughtless maniacs oft indignant roar, 945

" How short the joys of wine ! — e'en while we drink Life ceases, and to-morrow ne'er returns ! " As if, in death, the worst such wretches feared Were thirst unquenched, parching every nerve, Or deemed their passions would pursue them still. 950 Not anxious, thus, mankind the world resign At evening hour when soul and body rest ; Nor would they though that rest were ne'er to end : Nor thus the day's desire pursues their dreams ; Though then the seeds of sense not wander far 955

From sensile movements, scarcely, oft, allayed. And quick resumed when starts the soul at morn. Of much less moment, then, should death be held Than sleep, if aught can less than that which ne'er Moment excites whatever ; for the crowd 960

Of sensile seeds are wider here disperst ;

BOOK in. ON THE NATURE OlP THINGS. 385

Nor wakes he e'er to action, and the day, Whose frame once feels the chilling pause of life.

Were then the Nature op Created Things To rise abrupt, and thus repining man 965

Address — " O mortal ! whence these useless fears ? This weak, superfluous sorrow ? why th' approach Dread*st thou of death ? For if the time elapsed Have smiled propitious, and not all its gifts, As though adventured in a leaky vase, 970

Been idly wasted, profitless, and vain — Why quitt'st thou not, thou fool ! the feast of life Filled, — and with mind all panting for repose ? But if thyself have squandered every boon. And of the past grown weary — ^why demand 975

More days to kill, more blessings to pervert, Nor rather headlong hasten to thine end ? For nothing further can my powers devise To please thee ; — ^things for ever things succeed Unchanged, — and would do, though revolving years 980 Should spare thy vigour, and thy brittle frame Live o'er all time : e'en amplier would'st thou then Mark how unvaried all creation moves." — Were Nature thus t' address us, could we fail To feel the justice of her keen rebuke ? 985

So true the picture, the advice so sage !

But to the wretch who moans th' approach of death With grief unmeasured, louder might she raise Her voice severe — " Vile coward ! dry thine eyes — Hence with thy snivelling sorrows, and depart ! " 990

Should he, moreo'er, have past man's mid-day hour— " What ! thou lament ? already who hast reaped An ample harvest ? by desiring thus The past once more, the present thou abhorr'st. And life flies on imperfect, unenjoyed, 995

And death untimely meets thee, ere thy soul, Cloyed with the banquet, is prepared to rise. Leave, then, to others bliss thy years should shun ; Come, cheerful leave it, since still leave thou must." Justly I deem might Nature thus reprove : 1000

For, through creation, old to young resigns. And this from that matures ; nor aught descends

2 c

386 LUCBETIX78. BOOK IIL

To the dread gulfs, the fjEmcied shades of heU.

The mass material must survive entire

To feed succeeding ages, which, in turn, 1005

Like thee shall flourish, and like thee shall die ;

Nor more the present ruins than the past.

Thus things from things ascend ; and life exists

To none a freehold, but a use to alL

Reflect, moreo'er, how less than nought to as lOlO

Weighs the long portion of eternal time Fled ere our birth : so, too, the future weighs When death dissolves us. What of horror, then. Dwells there in death ? what gloomy, what austere ? Can there be elsewhere slumber half so sound ? 1015

The tales of hell exist not in the grave, But here, and curse us living. Tantalus, With broad, rough rock impending o'er his head. And crazed with terror, there is never seen : But terror dwells with mortals — fate thej fear, 1020

And fortune, and a host of fancied gods.

Nor Tityus there exists, the prey of birds. Nor, though he did, could these the victim's breast Consume for ever ; e'en though his wide bulk. Not thrice three acres merely might extend, 1025

But cover the vast globe ; nor could he bear Eternal pain, nor yield perpetual food. But he is Tityus, and by vultures torn. Whose anxious breast the rage of love devours ; Or aught of passion equal in its force. 1030

Here, too, is Sisyphus — ^the man who pants For public honours, and the giddy crowd Caresses ever, ever but in vain. For thus to toil for power, itself at best A bubble, and that bubble ne'er to boast, 1035

Yet still toil on — is doubtless to roll back, Up the high hill, the huge, stern, struggling stone ; That which, the steep peak once urged up, rebounds Rapid, resistless, over all the plain.

Then, too, to feed th' ungrateful mind, and fill 1040

With every good, while still it craves for more, (As feed mankind the seasons in their turn, With fruits, and endless beauties, while themselves

BOOK ni. ON THE NATXJEE OP THINGS. 387

Still riot on, and never have enough,)

This, or I err, the fable well unfolds, 1045

Feigned of the damsels doomed, in flower of youth,

To fill for ever the still leaking urn.

The FuBiES, Cerberus, and Hell itself Of light devoid, and belching from its jaws Tremendous fires, live not, nor can they live : 1050

But well they paint the dread of justice here For crimes atrocious, the reward of guilt, The scourge, the wheel, the block, the dungeon deep, The base-born hangman, the Tarpeian 0115" j Which, though the villain 'scape, his conscious soul 1055 Still fears perpetual, torturing all his days. And still foreboding heavier pangs at death. Hence earth itself to fools becomes a hell.

Thus ponder oft, retired : Angus the good. E'en he has closed his eyes on mortal things ; 1060

A man, thou coward ! worthier far than thou ! Thousands, moreo'er, like him of crowns possest. Have fall'n like him, and all their pomp resigned.

E'en he who wandered o'er the mighty main. Led on his legions, and first oped the way 1065

To tread on foot th' unfathomed gulfs below. He who thus braved the billows, and the storms. Has closed his eye-lids, and his soul resigned. —

SciPio, the war's dread thunderbolt, the scourge Of ransacked Tyre, sleeps, like the slave, inhumed. 1070

Add, too, the founders of the graceful arts. And schools erudite ; — add th' immortal bards ; Add Homer's self the muses' realm who rules ; These all, like meaner mortals, rest in peace. —

When hoary hairs Democritus forewarned 1075

His mental powers were hastening to decay. Quick he uprose, and midway met his fate. —

E'en he is fallen, his lamp of life extinct, Th' illustrious Epicurus, whose vast mind Triumphant rose o'er all men, and excelled, 1080

As, in the heavens, the sun excels the stars.

And dost thou murmur, and indignant die. Whose life, while living, scarcely death exceeds ? Thou ! who in sleep devourest half thy da^^^

2 c 2

388 ixcBsncs. book m.

XnA^ eVn swike, who aioRst;^ diwrniag still, 1085

And tDrtanng all th j miad with Twim aliBns ? Tboa ! who lamentest; oft, vnkiiowiB^ ^^JV Urged ofi, with fear intniFinred dee^ And in a maze of mental errors lost?

Did men bat think, and oft to think Aej aeem, 1090 That from themaelTes their heaTiest ammw* And knew thej too whaxe ihas thpnMrJfea These boeom rafierings — addom shoold we ae& life spent as now each paasing hour portnjs. An pant perpetual Fes' thej know not what, 1095

Nor learn bj searching— rhangii^ their abodes^ As thoi^h the change would JeAve their load behind.

This, from mere listleasness, his maa^ioB fiies ; Straight he returns ; — ^'tis listless all abroad. That to his rilla posts» with rapid whe^s, 1100

As though the boildi]^ were in flames^ and called His instant aid. — ^No socmer treads his foot The soondii^ hall, than, on the sofa thrown. He jawns disgusted — or indulges sleep. And seeks oblivion ; or, perchance, he starts, 1105

And towards the town drives back with equal speed.

Thus each his self would fly, that self which still Haunts every step, and every pain creates, Heedless of what torments him : which if dear The wanderer traced, his restless soul, at once 1 1 10

The world forsaking, and the world's vain boasts, Would scan the Nature op Created Things. For little weighs the passing hour of time When with eternity compared, that state Which, after death, to mortab yet remains. 1115

Through what vast woes this wild desire of life Drives us, afraid ! what dangers, and what toils ! Yet death still hastens, nor can mortal man, With all his efforts, turn th* unerring shaft.

Life, through its circuit too, is still the same, 1 120

Nor can it boast one source of new delight. The bliss we covet seems, at distant view, To all superior ; but, when once possest. It cloys, we spurn it, and another call. Yet the same thirst of life corrodes us still, 1 125

BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 3i89

Though doubtful of to-morrow, and the fate To-morrow brings^-our blessing, or our curse. E'en could we life elongate, we should ne'er Subtract one moment from the reign of death, Nor the deep slumber of the grave curtail. 1130

O'er ages could we triumph — death alike . Remains eternal — nor of shorter date To him who yesterday the light forsook. Than him who died full many a year before. •

BOOK IV.

PiEKiAN paths I tread untrod before.

Sweet are the springing founts with nectar new,

Sweet the new flowers that bloom ; but sweeter still

Those flowers to pluck, and weave a roseate wreath

The muses yet to mortals ne'er have deigned. 5

With joy the subject I pursue, and free

The captive mind from Superstition's yoke :

With joy th' obscure illume ; in liquid verse,

Graceful and clear, depicting all surveyed :

By reason guided. For as oft, benign, 10

The sapient nurse, when anxious to enforce

On the pale boy the wormwood's bitter draught,

With luscious honey tints the goblet's edge.

Deceiving thus, while yet unused to guile,

His unsuspecting lip, till deep he drinks, 15

And gathers vigour from the venial cheat ; —

So I, since dull the subject, and the world

Abashed recoils ; would fain, in honeyed phrase,

Tuned by the muses, to thine ear recite

Its vast concerns ; if haply I may hope 20

To fix thine audience, while the flowing verse

Unfolds the nature, and the use of things.

Since, then, our earlier strain the fact has proved Of seeds primordial ; how, in various forms. Oft differing each from each, at will they roam, 2^

390 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IV.

Urged on by ceaseless motion, — proved the mode

Whence all existing, thence exists alone :

Since, too, the mind's deep nature we have traced.

Whence first it springs, with body how unites.

And how^ when severed, to primordial seeds 30

Again it lapses ; — ^haste we next t' unfold

Those forms minute, a theme connected close,

Termed by the learned images of things :

Forms that, like pellicles, when once thrown off

Clear from the surface of whate'er exists, 35

Float unrestrained through ether. Fearful these

Oft through the day, when obvious to the sense.

But chief at midnight, when in dreams we view

Dire shapes and apparitions, from the light

Shut out for ever, and each languid limb 40

With horror gaunt convulsing in its sleep.

For deem not thou the soul can e'er escape

From hell profound ; that spectres of the dead

Can haunt the living ; or that aught we feel

One hour survives when once the stroke of fate 45

Severs the mind from body, and remands

Each to th' appropriate atoms whence they sprang.

Hence hold we firm that effigies of things. Fine, filmy floscules from the surface fiy, Like peels, or membranes, of whate'er exists ; 50

The form precise, how wide soe'er diffused, Maintaining still the parent body boasts. This e'en the dull may learn ; since sight itself Marks the light film from many a substance urged. Oft loosely floating, as the fume impure 55

From crackling faggots, or the brighter blaze Of red, resplendent furnace ; oft compact. And firm of texture as the silken veil Thrown from the grasshopper, when summer wanes. By many a month worn out ; or that the calf 60

Casts on his birth-day ; or the spotted robe Rent from the snake, that trembles on the brier, The brier full oft with spoils like these bedeckt. Since these exist, then, floscules rarer still May, too, be exiled from the face of things : 65

For why the grosser, palpable to sight.

BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 391

Should rather thus exfoliate, than the flake

Of finer texture that all sight eludes,

The mind discerns not ; for such viewless flakes

Live, doubtless, o'er each surface loose diffused, 70

Ranged ever equal, and with ampler ease

Dispelled, since gendered of a lighter frame,

And in the front of objects fixt supreme.

For sight not merely bodies marks minute

Thrown from th' interior, or the base profound, 75

As proved already, but, like rainbow hues,

Poured from the surface. This the crowd surveys

Oft in the theatre, whose curtains broad,

Bedecked with crimson, yellow, or the tint

Of steel cerulean, from their fluted heights 80

Wave tremulous ; and, o'er the scene beneath.

Each marble statue, and the rising rows

Of rank and beauty, fling their tint superb.

While as the walls, with ampler shade repel

The garish noon-beam, every object round 85

Laughs with a deeper dye, and wears profuse

A lovelier lustre, ravished from the day.

As then the trembling drapery ejects

Hues from its surface, superflcial too

From every substance effigies minute 90

Must stream perpetual, each alike discharged.

And hence from all things vestiges there are

Of subtlest texture hovering through the void,

All sight evading when but simply poured.

Each essence, vapour, fume, or aught alike 95

Attenuate, hence alone flows void of form, That, gendered deep within, through tortuous paths Loose, and disjoined, it struggles to the day ; While the light quintessence of utmost hues Streams unobstructed as supremely placed. 100

The main, moreo'er, the mirror, or aught else Of polished front, each object full reflects With perfect semblance. Whence this semblance fair But from supernal images expelled ? These, as more gross, we mark ; yet why the gross 105 Should rather thus exfoliate than the flake Of subtler texture, reason ne'er can prove.

392 LUCBETIUS. BOOK IT.

Hence effigies there are from all things poured

Of nice resemblance, and the £Edrest web ;

Which, though, when single, from the sight conoealedy 110

When close reflected in perpetual stream

From the clear mirror, obvious meet the view.

Nor can the sophist other cause adduce

Whence springs the picture so correctly just.

Come, now, and mark with what attenuate frame 115 Such pictures live. This the prime seeds of things So fugitive to sense, so less than aught The keenest sight can pierce, perchance may proTe, How subtle these, then, thus the muse explains.

First, there are insects so minute, the view 120

Not half their puny members can discern. What here are organs ? what intestines here ? The globule what that forms their heart or eye ? Their tiny limbs ? their tendons ? but o'er all What the nice atoms whence the soul proceeds ? 125

Each part so subtile, so minute the whole.

Next, each wild herb that from its branches pours Ungrateful odours, southernwood severe. The rueful wormwood, centaury, or that Famed for all cures, termed all-heal by the crowd, 130 These, by the lightest finger brushed, emit Myriads of effigies in various modes Void of all strength, wide hovering unperceived. Such who can calculate ? what powers of mind Scan their light textures, or their woof unfold ? 135

Yet deem not thou such images alone From things themselves emane ; spontaneous, too, Spring they in heaven above, combining strange, Borne through th' aerial realms in modes diverse, Their forms for ever shifting, till at length 140

Nought lives on earth the phantoms never ape. Hence clouds concrete, th' aerial vault serene Shadowing with moisture, grateful as it moves : Hence, shapes gigantic spread, protruding broad Their interposing features ; mountains hence, 145

And mountain-rocks, torn from their base abrupt, Seem oft to hover, blotting now the sun With front opposed, now deep diffused behind.

BOOK IV. ON THE NATUBE OF THINGS. 393

Gendering fresh clouds, a monster each to view.

Mark, now, how swift such phantoms form — how swift Exhale from all things, and, when formed, dissolve. 151 A steam there is that from the face of things Pours forth perpetual. This, when urged amain On porous textures, as the clothes we wear, Pierces entire : when bold with wood, or stone 155

It dares conflict, the subtile membrane breaks, Nor aught returns of semblance ; but when flung On dense and splendid objects (foremost such Shines the pure mirror) nought of these ensues : For then nor pierces the light lymph, nor quick 1 60

Breaks ere the mirror give the semblance sound. Hence springs the vision, every object hence, Opposed to splendours, pours perpetual forth Its mimic likeness ; and, perpetual too. Hence the pure effluence that the likeness yields 165

Must fleetly rush, reiterated urged. As from the sun each moment many a ray Must flow that things with lustre may be filled, So from each object many an image light Streams without end ; for, turn howe'er thou please 170 The splendid plate, still the same semblance springs. Punctual in form, appropriate in its dyes.

Oft, too, the lucid front of heaven serene Blackens abrupt ; in subtlest vapours veiled So blackens, fancy may conceive all hell 175

Had with his direst shades the welkin stormed. Shivering with horror every human nerve. But what such vapours to the films of things ? These who can calculate ? what powers of mind Scan their light textures, or their woof unfold ? 180

Thus proved attenuate, mark, benignant, next. Their keen rapidity : with what vast speed Fleet they through ether, with elastic wing Conquering dull time, urged various to their goals. This shall the muse in melodies evince 185

More sweet than prolix ; as the swan's lone dirge Flows forth superior to the clamorous croak Of countless cranes, by every wind disperst.

Know, then, th' attenuate substance must move quick*.

394 LUCBETIUS. BOOK IV.

•

But few th' exceptions. Hence the rapid race 190

Of light, and lustre from th' effusive sun,

Since these, too, spring from atoms most minutey

With ease protruded, by posterior force

Urged on ; for light for ever light succeeds,

And floods of splendour floods of splendour drive. 195

Hence, from like cause, the semblances of things

Through countless space must instantaneous rush ;

For equal powers propellant press behind.

And the same texture rears them that pervades

Forms most compact, and Alls th' aerial void. 200

If, too, those particles of things that lurk

Deep in th' interior, oft sublimely bound.

And quit the surface, as the sun's pure light,

And lustre fair, if instant these we view

Rush through all space, o'er earth and main diffuse, 205

And heaven's high arch, by utmost lightness winged ; .

Say, what the speed of atoms placed supreme.

Poured from the front of things, by nought delayed ?

Seest thou not these, in the same point of time,

With swifter flight through ampler bounds must dart 210

Than the blue radiance that through ether streams ?

To proofs thus cogent of the rapid race Of insubstantial semblances, adjoin This fact decisive ; that, when once at night, Beneath the spangled concave, gleams the vase 215

Filled from the bubbling brook, the curious eye Marks in the lymph, responsive, every star That strews with silver all the radiant pole. Seest thou not hence, then, in what point of time Th* ethereal image darts from heaven to earth ? 220

Hence doubly flows it such stupendous forms Must crowd th' horizon, and the sight compel, Of things defined born ceaseless. From the sun Thus heat exhales, cold, dewy damp from streams, And the rough spray from ocean, with fierce fang 225

Gnawing the mound that dares resist its waves. Thus sounds, too, hover in the breezy air ; And, when the beach we traverse, oft the tongue Smarts with the briny vapour : or if chance. By dexterous leech, fell wormwood near be bruised, 230

BOOK IV. ON THE NATUEE OP THINGS. 395

We taste th* essential bitter, and abhor.

Thus some light effluence streams from all create,

Streams forth for ever, void of dull repose,

Towards every point diffused : for man perceives.

Where'er his station, sight alike exists, 235

The sense of fluent odours, and of sounds.

And as, moreo'er, th' essajdng hand decides Oft in the dark an object as precise As the keen eye at mid-day, — Whence we deem Touch and the sight by equal causes swayed. 240

Thus, if a cube we handle, and, at night. Its shape assure us, what but the mere shape Proves the same substance is a cube by day ? — Hence shapes, hence images alone create All we survey, of vision the sole cause : 245

And hence from every object forms like these Towards every point must radiate ; since the eye, Source of all sight, where'er its orb inclines. Sees all that moves, in shape and hue precise : And since such semblances alone decide 250

How distant dwells each substance we discern. These sole decide ; for every film exhaled Drives on immediate the recumbent air Placed 'twixt the visual orb and object viewed. Then fleets its total column, o'er the ball 255

Rushing amain, till all its gradual length Strikes on the sentient pupil, and retires. Hence how far distant judge we things exist ; And as an ampler air, and larger tide Of friction goad the vision, cautious, thus, 260

Deem more remote th' objective substance lies. While such the speed evinced, at once we teU The thing surveyed, its distance and its kind.

Nor wondrous this, that, though, when singly urged, Each separate image viewless strikes the sight, 265

The parent form springs obvious. When severe Blows the fresh breeze, each particle of wind. Of bitter cold the sense can ne'er discern. But the full body rather : then the frame Shrinks as though blows from some exterior foe 270

Were plied perpetual, every nerve assailed.

396 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IV.

When, too, the finger o'er the polished spar

Lets fall its weight, it touches then alone

The crystal hues, and surface ; yet nor hues

Nor surface feels it, but the hardness sole 276

Its total body boasts, compact and firm.

Now next unfold we whence the semblance seen In the clear mirror, far beyond recedes, Or so pretends, deceptive. Sleights like these We trace for ever when th' attentive eye 280

Peeps in some hall, beyond th' unfolded doors. And through their vista marks the scene without. In both a twin, a double tide of air Strikes on the vision. In the mansion thus First floats th' interior ether, bounded close 285

By the broad portals opening right and left, Then light external, and another air Assail the pupil, and the real scene At last developes. Thus the semblance too, The mirror's self projects, as towards the sight 290

It yet, yet tends, the midway air protrudes Placed 'twixt the visual orb and object viewed ; Whence first th' aerial tide assaults us ere Conspicuous springs the mirror ; which surveyed, Next instant flows the semblance from ourselves 295

Ceaseless exhaled, and from the splendid plate Reflected punctual, visiting in turn The sentient eye-ball, and in turn its tide Of air first forcing o'er the goaded view ; Thus doubly distant, and the glass beyond 300

Painting the mimic image we discern. Hence not the meanest marvel can attach To forms refiected from the fulgent plain Through two-fold airs, by the twin tide resolved.

The part, too, of the semblance that to us 305

The right creates, seems, in the mirror, left : Hence springs the vision, that when once the film Strikes on the level radiance, it rebounds Unaltered never, by th' elastic blow

In every trait reversed : as when we dash, 310

'Gainst some broad beam, the new-made mask of clay Soft yet, and pliant, if with front direct

BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 397

It bear the blow, the hollow frame inverts : Each feature then transposes, the right eye Claims the left side, the left the right usurps. 315

From mirror, too, to mirror may we spread The playful image, till its like, with ease, Be thrice, or ampler doubled ; and till nought Lurk so retired, so deep behind, so hid In tortuous angles, but that many a plate, 320

Rightly disposed, may yet through every maze Drag forth the latent landscape, and at large E'en in the mansion's central depths display. So glides from glass to glass the semblance true By each transposed in order, right and left 325

Changing alternate, and again restored.

Mirrors there are, moreo'er, of shape rotund With flexile sides like mortals, that present To right or left each object free from change. Thus solve the problem that the convex plate, 330

Like a twin mirror, twice the scene reflects *

Ere yet it touch the vision ; or, perchance, Th' approaching image turns completely round, A turn the flexile splendour proves precise. —

Then the light image, too, with us affects 335

To move responsive, every gesture caught. Hence the deception, that whate'er the part Of the pure plate relinquished, thence no more Flies the fleet semblance ; fate's eternal laws Deciding ceaseless that the film propelled 340

Must bear each variance of the parent form.

Such are the sleights of mirrors. Mark we next, How hates the eye-ball every gaudy glare ; How darkens in the sun when poured direct ; Such his vast power. Yet here that power alike 345

Flows from a stream of effigies through heaven Impetuous flung, the tender pupil oft Wounding severely ; and, at times, so fierce Rushes the radiant tide, the total orb Bums with the fiery particles contained. 350

The jaundiced thus, not unaccordant, see All clad in yeUow, many a yellow seed Forced from their frames, the semblances of thin^ii

398 ujCBxncs, book it.

Accosting frequent ; and the lurid eje.

Deep, too, imbued with its conti^pioiis hne, 356

Fainting each image that its disc assails.

Things in the light, though in the daik oaraelTes, We mark cofispicnons ; for as the Uack air Adjoining, first usurps th' expanded eye. Quick flows th' illumined tide, fincmi every shade 360

Purging the pupil, formed of finer seeds, More potent far, more voluble in act Hence as at once the visual orb it dears, Till then obstructed, and with lustre fills. Each floating image, in the light exhaled, 365

Next rushes, and its stimulus applies. But when, reversed, from day to dark we look. We see not, for the stream of shadowy air That last arrives, of grosser texture wrought, Filb every avenue, each optic nerve 370

Clogs, and the semblances of things arrests.

View yon square turrets, too, that guard our state From hills remote, and each appears rotund. Hence solve the vision ; that, at distance seen. All angles soften ; first surveyed obtuse, 375

Then fading total ; the dilated orb Attaining never, or devoid of force : For the light image, through the fluttering air As swift it glides, abrades at every point. Hence, as each angle flies the prying sight, 380

Cylindric seems the structure, distant far From the true circle, but cylindric still.

The shade, moreover, moves with us in the sun. Attends our steps, and every gesture apes ; Moves, or so seems, if terms like these apply 385

To aught like shadow, the mere void alone Of light, and lustre. Such the phase evinced. Thou thus resolve it ; that, whene'er we walk Beneath the solar blaze aslant propelled. Our interposing limbs perforce liiust hide 390

The heavenly ray from spots illumined else, And still illumed the moment we forsake : Hence must the shadow with the moving frame Seem, too, to move most punctual ; for the streams

BOOK IV. ON THE NAT17BE OP THINGS. 399

Of new-born radiance that for ever flow 395

Die instant, as the filaments of wool

In fiercest flames, bj streams succeeded still :

Whence quick of light may every spot be robbed,

And quick relumed, the negro shade expelled.

Yet deem not thou from this, or aught besides, 400

The vision e'er can err : its office sole Tells where is shine or shadow, while the rest. Whether the shining current live the same. Or change perpetual ; whether the dark shade Wait on each step progressive, or the dogm 405

Just urged be truth, — all this the mind done Weighs, and determines ; for th' exterior sight Scans not the powers of things ; so blame not thou Th' unerring vision for the mind's defects.

Th' advancing bark seems to the crew at rest ; 410

At rest, advancing ; and the hills and vales. Near which we voyage, seem compelled astern.

Thus seem the stars, though reason proves their flight, Fixt to th' ethereal vault, o'er whose broad bounds Their lucid course they steer, and rise and set 415

Alternate ; thus the sun and moon alike Move not to sight, though moving without end.

The mountain rocks, whose severed sides admit Whole fleets between, look in the distant deep But one continuous chain, one solid isle. 420

So to the wanton boy, whom many a twirl Makes dizzy, pillars, pictures, walls alike Roll rapid round, and menace with their fall.

When first the rosy dawn, with trembling fires, Peeps o'^ the mountains, mountains where the sun 425 Rests all his rising radiance, — ^the bright pomp Seems scarce two thousand bow-shots from ourselves ; Oft might five hundred reach it : yet between These rich-wrought mountains and the solar disc Spreads many an ocean, many a heaven unknown, 430 Of span immense, and many a mighty realm Peopled with nations, and the brutal tribes. So in the puny pools inch-high that fill, When showers descend, the hollows in our streets, A prospect opens, earth as deep below ^^^

400 LUCBBTIUS. BOOK lY.

As bends o'er earth th' ethereal vault sublime :

Where maj'st thou trace the flitting clouds, the heayens^

And heavenly orbs in wondrous guise displayed.

Thus, too, when mounted on the mettled steed. Full in the stream then plunge, — ^if midway o*er 440

Thou rest — ^the stationary steed seems still With the broad torrent struggling, up the tide Urging his dauntless chest, while all around With equal motion looks alike o'erpowered.

The pillared portico, whose aisle throughout 445

In breadth ne'er varies, propt through all its course With equal columns, from its entrance viewed Seems lessening gradual, side approaching side. And ceiling floor, till at its utmost bound All, like the cone, ends in a point acute. 450

To those at sea the restless sun ascends, And sets in ocean, quenching there his fires ; For nought but skies and ocean meet their view : So blame not thou that thus the sight reports.

E'en while in port the bark, to those unskilled, 455

Oft seems distrest, and with disabled arms Against the tide contending : for though straight Looks the tough length of oar the brine above, And straight the helm superior, all below Seems broke abrupt, refracted by the wave, 460

Inversed, and floating near the rory brim.—

When through the welkin the wild winds at night Drive the light clouds, the starry gems of heaven Seem forced athwart them, in perplext career Urged rapid on, wide wandering from their paths. 465

If but one eye-ball lightly thou compress Below, with casual finger, all around Looks instant double ; every taper flames With double lights, with double garniture The mansion labours, and each friend assumes, 470

Preposterous sight ! two faces, and two forms.

So, too, when sleep his opiate wand has stretched And lulled each limb in soft and sound repose, Still watchful seem we, every member still Feels in full motion : wrapt in midnight gloom 475

The cheerful day stiU smiles : though close pent up.

BOOK IV. ON THE NATUBS OP THINGS. 401

O'er main, and mountains, hills and heavens we roam, Tread with firm foot the champaign ; grave debates Hear mid the noiseless solitude that reigns. And e'en while silent loudly make reply. 480

These, and a thousand visions, strange alike, Assault our senses, and would fain deceive. But vain th' attempt : since, though full oft we err, 'Tis mind misguides us with results unsound, That deeming seen which ne'er the sight surveys. 485

For nought more arduous than to sever forms True, from ideal by the mind begot.

Who holds that nought is known, denies he knows E'en this, thus owning that he nothing knows. With such I ne'er could reason, who, with face 490

Hetorted, treads the ground just trod before. Yet grant e'en this he knows ; since nought exists Of truth in things, whence learns he what to know. Or what not know ? what things can give him first The notion crude of what is false, or true ? 495

What prove aught doubtful, or of doubt devoid ?

Search, and this earliest notion thou wilt find Of truth and falsehood from the senses drawn. Nor aught can e'er refute them : for what once. By truths opposed, their falsehood can detect, 500

Must claim a trust far ampler than themselves. Yet what than these an ampler trust can claim ? Can reason, bom forsooth of erring sense, Impeach those senses whence along it springs ? And which, if false, itself can ne'er be true. 505

Can sight correct the ears ? can ears the touch ? Or touch the tongue's fine flavour ? or, o'er all. Can smell triumphant rise ? absurd the thought. For every sense a separate function boastSj A power prescribed ; and hence or soft or hard, 510

Or hot or cold, to its appropriate sense Alone appeals. The gaudy train of hues. With their light shades, appropriate thus alike Perceive we ; tastes appropriate powers possess ; Appropriate, sounds and odours: and hence, too, 515

One sense another ne'er can contravene. Nor e'en correct itself; since^ every hour,

2 D

402 LUCRETItJS. BOOK IV.

In every act each claims an eqnal faith :

So what the senses notice must be true. —

E'en though the mind no real cause could urge 520

Why what is square when present, when remote

Cylindric seems, 'twere dangerous less t' adopt

A cause unsound, than rashly yield at once

All that we grasp of truth and surety most.

Rend all reliance, and root up, forlorn, 525

The first, firm principles of life and health.

For not alone fails reason, life itself

Ends instant, if the senses thou disturb ;

And dare some dangerous precipice, or aught

Against warned equal, spuming what is safe. 530

Hence all against the senses urged is vaiii,

Mere idle rant, and hollow pomp of words.

As, in a building, if the first lines err. If aught impede the plummet, or the rule From its just angles deviate but a hair, 536

The total edifice must rise untrue, Recumbent, curved, o'erhanging, void of grace. Tumbling, or tumbled from this first defect. So must all reason prove unsound, deduced From things created, if the senses err. 540

Thus perfect sight, unfold we next, a task "Not arduous, how each other sense perceives.

Sound, and the voice, then, first are felt when deep Pierce their light corpuscles the mazy ear. And rouse impulsive ; for corporeal, too, 545

Are sound and voice, since each the sense impels. Thus voice full oft abrades the palate ; sound. Forth issuing from the lungs, th' aerial tube Roughens : for when the vocal atoms press With thfong unusual through the bronchial straits, 550 Th' elastic stream their tender tunics goads. And the whole passage smarts with pain severe. Hence, doubtless, voice and words sonorous spring From seeds corporeal, armed with power to wound.

Nor here forget how much the speaker wastes, 555

How faints enervate, shorn of vital force, Who from the dawn harangues tiU night's black shade ; How doubly wastes if loud th' oration urged.

BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 403

Corporeal, hence, the voice must prove, since he

Who long debates, corporeal loss sustains. 560

Roughness, moreo'er, of voice, from atoms rough.

From smooth it& suavity perpetual flows :

Nor of like figure wind they through the ear

When roars the deep-toned trumpet, or the horn

With hoarse, harsh gamut strains its serpent throat ; 565

And when the swan, amid the pangs of d^ath.

Pours o'er Parnassus his last, liquid dirge.

The vocal tide thus reared, when from the lungs Sublime we press it through the bronchial duct, The tongue daedalian, and vivacious lips 570

Mould it to words, articulated nice. And when not far th' irruptive voice is thrown It strikes emphatic, and is heard distinct. Unchanged, uninjured every primal seed.

But when at distance urged, the severing air 575

Must break each sentence, and the wandering voice Through the long medium all connexion lose. And thus, though sounds attract us, we collect Nought they should teach, so blended and destroyed.

When, mid the gaping throng, the crier loud 580

Bawls out his mandate, each its purport hears. Hence, too, the voice to vocicles minute Severs abrupt, since every ear alike Drinks in each tone with equal clearness felt ; While what its nerve ne'er reaches, wide diffused, 585 Wastes through all ether ; or, if aught, perchance, Strike some compact enclosure, it rebounds In faithless speech, mere semblances of words.

Whence may'st thou solve, ingenuous ! to the world The rise of echoes, formed in desert scenes, 590

Mid rocks, and mountains, mocking every sound. When late we wander through their solemn glooms, And, with loud voice, some lost companion call. And oft re-echoes echo till the peal Ring seven times round : so rock to rock repels 595

The mimic shout, re-iterated close.

Here haunt the goat-foot satyrs, and the nymphs. As rustics tell, and fauns whose frolic dance And midnight revels oft, they say, are heard

2 D 2

404 LUCBBTIUa. BOOK IV.

Breaking the noiseless silence ; while soft strains 600

Melodious issue, and the vocal band

Strike to their madrigals the plaintive lyre.

Such, feign they, sees the shepherd, obvious ofit,

Led on by Pan, with pine-leaf garland crowned.

And seven-mouthed reed his labouring lip beneath, 605

Waking the woodland muse with ceaseless song.

These, and a thousand legends wilder still

Recount they ; haply lest their desert homes

Seem of the gods abandoned, boastful hence

Of sights prodigious ; or by cause, perchance, 610

More trivial urged, for ne'er was tale so wild

Feigned, but the crowd would drink with greedy ears.

Nor strange, moreover, conceive it that the voice Full many a scene should pierce, the nerve of sound Rousing, where sight's keen gaze can never reach. 615 For voice unhurt through flexile tubes can wind ; But the light image never ; since the pore When not direct, as that of lucid glass Which all transmits, abrades it and destroys. —

Voice through the total scene, too, spreads alike ; 620 Since, when once formed, to vocicles minute It breaks innumerous, as sparks at night To countless sparklings ; hence the scene throughout Overflows with sound, through every winding felt. Yet visual images, when once propelled, 625

Rush but in lines direct ; whence none can see Things pent above, though voice th' enclosure pierce. Yet voice itself, thus piercing, faints obtuse. Heard indistinct, and rather sound than sense.

To TASTES proceed we : whence the tongue's nice powers Spring, and the curious palate, full t' unfold. — 631

First tastes the tongue, then, when the sturdy teeth Wring from the food its juices ; as though sponge, Pregnant with water, by th' embracing hand Were squeezed to dryness. O'er the pores perplext 635 Of tongue and palate next th' excreted lymph Rushes amain ; and, when from atoms reared Smooth and rotund, the masticating sense Through its moist temple swells with dear delight : But when the rough assail it, it recoils 640

BOOK rv. ON THE NATUltB OP THINGS. 405

And shrinks abhorrent, wounded in the strife.

Last, flows the trickling pleasure, or the pain.

Back towards the tonsils where the gorge first opes ;

There flows and ceases, nothing felt beyond

Of joy or suffering through the frame diffused. 645

For nought imports it what the food employed,

If but the stomach into genial tides

Concoct it sole, and pour through every limb.

Oft find we, too, that various frames demand As various viands ; and that what to some 650

Seems harsh and hateful, some perpetual deem Delicious most ; while e'en so vast, at times. The strange discordance, that what poisons this To that proves healthful, and prolongates life. Thus dies the snake that human spitde tastes, 655

Worked into madness, self-destroyed ; and thus Wild hellebore, that goats and quails matures. By man once swallowed stamps his instant fate.

These facts to solve, thy mind must first retrace A doctrine earlier urged, that aU things hold 660

Deep in their texture seeds unlike of form ; And that each sentient class by food sustained. Since large the variance of its outer make. And stamp generic, must from nutrient seeds Of form unlike be reared, and powers diverse. 665

But if its seeds thus differ, different too Must prove in shape the fine absorbent pores Whence draws the frame its nurture, o'er the tongue Spread bibulous, the palate, and the limbs ; Now large, now small, triangular, rotund, 670

Squares, polygons, in every changeful mode. For to the varying seed the varying duct With nicest adaptation must respond. And, hence, when foods of bitter taste to some Prove sweet to others, where the flavour charms, 675

The smoothest seeds alone the palate drinks. Through all its pores inebriate ; while, reversed. Where aught offends, those jagged more and rough Fierce the nice tubes, and tear their tender mouths.

Thus all alike springs obvious. When the frame, 680 From bile o'erflowing, or some cause as fierce^

406 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IV.

Sickens with fever, every organ shakes

With tumult dire, through all its texture changed.

Hence atoms erst apportioned, now no more

Apportioned prove ; while those far readier fit 685

That rouse the sense to hatred and disgust :

Tor both in all things lurk, as urged above,

E'en in the sweets Hyblaean honey boasts.

But come, for odours call us, and the powers That sway th' obsequious nostrils. Odours fine, 690

Wave after wave, flow forth in ceaseless tide From many a substance, many a living tribe Attracting different, as diversely reared. Hence bees, through distant ether, wind the scent Of honeyed flowrets ! vultures, foul of maw, 695

Track the vile carcass ; the vivacious hound Hunts o'er the hills the cloven-footed foe ; And the white goose, preserver of our state, The haunts explores of mortals. Odours hence From odours differing, every brutal tribe 700

Its food selects, from baneful poison flies, And through all time maintains its rank entire.

Thus varjring scents the varying nostrils wound. To different distance urged ; yet none so far As voice or sounds, not here those films to name 705

That strike the pupil, and solicit sight. For scents roam tardy, in uncertain path, And die with ease beneath the breath of heaven. Since from the depth of things with labour flung. For that thus deep they rise thou thus may'st prove : 710 That all when frittered, into dust reduced. Or probed by fire, an ampler essence yield. Then spring they, too, from particles more gross. Since void of power the firm flint wall to pierce. Pierced oft by sounds, by voices. Doubtful hence 715 Feel we full frequent, though in scents immersed, From what point flows the perfume ; for the stream Chills as it loiters, and with languid force Excites the dubious nostrils ; and hence, too. Oft the fleet pack wide wanders mid the chase. 720

Nor tastes alone, nor odours different strike The different tribes percipient ; the light hues.

BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 407

The semblances of things, diversely, too,

Pungent, or bland, the conscious sight assault.

The lion, thus, the cock's indignant eye 725

Flies, nor can e'er encounter, loud of wing.

Who drives the shadows, and the lazy dawn

Wakes with shrill clarion iterated oft.

For seeds there are that in the warlike cock

Of power peculiar lurk, which when once urged 730

Against the lion's sight, with wound severe

Tear the keen pupil ; whence the tortured beast

Dares not the shock ; while yet the human eye

Escapes uninjured, since the puny darts

Pierce not, or, piercing, through the yielding pores 735

Find a free entrance, and as free retire.

Now mark while briefly, next, the muse displays What forms the mind excite, and through the soul Rush viewless. First be this imprinted deep, ' That light, innumerous semblances of things, 740

Towards every point, in modes innumerous press, , Combining soon through ether when they meet, As the wove woof of spiders, or the threads Fine-wrought of filmy gold. For slenderer far Of these the texture than aught e'er that strikes 745

Conspicuous on the pupil, since with ease Pierce they the porous body, reach, recluse, Th' attenuate mind, and stimulate the sense. Hence Centaurs see we, Scyllas, and the face Of dogs- Cerberean, or the spectres pale 750

Of those whose bones the tomb has long embraced. For countless effigies of countless kinds Float vagrant round us, self-engendered, now In air sublime, now flung from all that lives. And now combined in many a monster form : 755

For the wild semblance of a Centaur yet Ne'er flowed from Centaurs living, nature such Creating never ; but when once in air A man's light image with a horse's meets. Quick they cohere, as just maintained, since reared 760 Of subtlest texture, and the phantom springs. Thus spring, too, kindred phantoms, by their make All volatile, and, with percussion joint,

408 LUCRBTIUS. BOOK IV.

Rousing the mind, soon roused, since reared itself

Of subtlest textore, and yivacious most. 765

Thus all with ease developes. As the mind Sees but the features sight surveyed before. Each into act some equtd cause must prompt. — Since the fierce lion, as the muse has taught. Sight, then, surveys from semblances alpne, 770

Nought but mere semblances the mind can rouae ; Hence seen the same, or but attenuate more. Thus only, when the limbs dissolve in sleep. The wakeful spirit of the mind descries Trains of unreal objects, -moved throughout 775

By the same images the day displays ; So moved that those oft obvious seem to spring Whom long the grave has folded in its grasp : A creed e'en urged by nature, since, profound, '

Through the still frame then slumbers every sense, 780 Void of all power to mark the true from false ; Nor rouses the dull meoiory to clear The fancied scene, or prove the forms we see Erewhile fell victims to oblivious fate. —

Nor wondrous deem it that such forms should move, 785 Or wave their hands,- as dreams full oft disclose. Or trip their frolic feet to numerous time. For the light image stays not, but flows on In streams successive ; hence when this to that Yields of diverse arrangement, fit)m the change, 790

Rapid as thought, the first seems moving sole. So vast their powers of action ; such the stores Of things create, the countless phantoms such Flung through each moment's least capacious point.

Yet many a question themes like these excite, 795

Deep thought demanding ere illumined clear.

Whence springs it that the mind, with instant haste. Thinks on whate'er the wayward will resolves ? If heaven the heart, if earth, or main, possess. Pomps, spectacles, or senates, feasts, or fights, 800

Does Nature then her images create Prompt to the moment ? whence that mortals placed In the same country, in the self-same spot. On difierent themes employ the thoughtful mind ?

BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 409

Whence, too, those graceful attitudes, in turn, 805

The changeful phantoms oft in dreams disclose ? The dexile arm that, through the measured dance, To arm voluptuous answers ? and the foot To foot symphonious, exquisitely true ? Taste, then, the phantoms science? are they taught 810 Thus loose to wanton mid the night's dead hours ? Or flows it not much rather that each space Of time minutest, e'en while the fleet lip Sounds but a syllable, of parts consists Minuter still, within whose rapid reign 815

Kush they in swarms, towards every point propelled ? So vast their powers of action ; such the stores Of things create. And hence when this to that Yields of diverse arrangement, from the change The first alone seems moving to the sight. 820

Then, too, so fine their texture, that the mind. Save when profound it pries, their separate forms Can ne'er distinguish ; hence, unnoticed, waste Those the dull mind prepares not to survey. For thus prepares it ceaseless, and expects 825

The coming vision, hence surveyed alone.

E'en seest thou not the pupil, when it first Kens some fine object, all its orb contracts. And strains ere yet the figure full disclose ? Thus, too, in scenes more.obvious, if thy soul 830

Thou bend not to the vision, it remains As though from thee far distant and disjoined. What wonder each light image, then, should die Viewless, the mind ne'er rouses to survey. Then things minute, too, large full oft we deem 835

Wide wandering from the fact, and self-deceived.

And oft a form the present phantom wears Unlike th' anterior, woman now, and now The bolder sex, or shaped with dififerent age, And features fresh, while still oblivion deep, 840

And languid rest restrain us from surprise.

Yet fly abhorrent, here, with vigour fiy Their creed who hold that every organ sprang To use self-destined : that the pupil rose Conscious of vision ; that the legs, the thighs 84.<5

410 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IT.

On the firm foot upreared their columns, versed

Previous in paces ; that the flexile arm

Hence nerved with strength its muscles ; and the hands

Hung on each side, the messengers of life.

This, and whate'er such sophists else affirm, 850

Is futile all, preposterous, and wild.

For nought so knows its office as to act

When first produced, but all produced alone

Learns it progressive. The nice power to see

Lived not before the eye-ball ; to debate 855

With graceful speech before the tongue was formed.

The tongue long first created ; nor to hear

Ere rose the sense of sound ; nor aught besides

Of organ could anticipate its use.

Hence urged by use, no organ ever sprang. 860

Wars, we admit, with aU their ills, began. And savage blows were dealt, and tides of blood Flowed forth obscene, ere yet the lucid spear Was hurled indignant ; and to fly its force Preceded long the left hand's sturdy shield. 865

Thus, too, repose the weary members claimed, Long ere the down displayed its soft expanse ; And the parched lip was slaked ere goblets rose.

Doubtless such instruments from use foreseen Were gradual framed, as life and nature called, 870

But nought besides ; for all created else First sprang, and then their proper use explored. The senses chief, and active limbs of man. — Hence far the creed reject, then, that affirms These e'er produced from office pre-conceived. 875

Nor is it wondrous that each form that breathes Should, from its nature, need diurnal food : Since, as we erst have taught, in many a mode Full many an atom flies from all create ; From ranks percipient most, by toil fatigued. 880

For ceaseless vapour here the skin bedews. Flung forth profound, and quick the labouring lungs Part with their vital spirit ; hence the frame Sinks all exhausted ; faintness preys profuse O'er every power, and ruin stares around. 885

So foods are claimed the languid limbs to brace,

BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 411

To fill with strength recruited, and appease

The craving hunger that subdues the soul.

So, too, the goblet spreads its liquid stores

Where'er those stores are sought, with grateful draught

Quenching the fiery stomach, and absorbed 891

Through all the members, freshening as it fiows.

Hence dies the raging hunger ; and the thirst,

Panting no more, is drowned in fiuent bliss.

Now next unfold we, thou the doctrine mark, 895

How the firm foot advances at our will ? Whence draw the lips their motion ? and within What this strange power the body's bulk that drives ? —

First, then, we hold — a precept urged before — That the light images that rove around 900

Beset, and strike the mind ; hence springs the will Determined instant ; for no mortal aught Can e'er commence but what th' interior mind Wills, and decides ; and what the mind thus wills Th' assailing image governs by its form. 905

So when the mind, thus roused, resolves to walk, Quick through the total soul, the soul diffused O'er all the system, the commotion felt It spreads percussive, spreads with instant ease, Since close the bond between them ; and, in turn, 910

Urged by the soul, the body final moves, Feels the propulsion, and its power obeys.

Then, too, the frame expands, and the light air All volatile, through every path, and pore, Each aperture minutest, ampler flows ; 915

And hence from two-fold force, as sails the bark With wind and canvass, man majestic moves.

Nor strange conceive it that such trivial powers Should turn the body, and its bulk direct. For the pure gale, of subtlest atoms reared, 920

With force immense the mightiest ship propels ; While one light hand, one slender helm, with ease Guides its vast burden o'er the bending main. And, armed with wheels, and pulleys, the firm crane Lifts loads at will, the groaning ground that crush. 925

Now by what means soft sleep bedews the limbs, And from the mind drives every carking cax^)

412 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IT.

This next the muse in melodies shall sing

More sweet than prolix ; as the swan's lone dirge

Flows forth superior to the clamorous croak 930

Of countless cranes, by every wind disperst.

Hear thou attentive, and with mind acute,

Lest aught appear incongruous, and thy breast

Recoil abhorrent from the truths we teach,

Foe to the creed from ignorance alone. 935

Sleep, then, occurs when fades through every limb The soul's sensorial power, part by fatigue Wasted through ether, and concentred part Deep in each vital organ ; till, at length. Lax grow the members, listless, and dissolved. 940

For pow.er sensorial doubtless from the soul Derives ; and hence, when sleep the senses locks, Th' enfeebled soul itself to reason seems Worn out, and all ejected into air.

Yet not entire : for then this mortal make 945

Must sink subdued in death's eternal ice. No latent atom left, as sparks that lurk Li smothered embers, whence its powers afresh Might blaze, triumphant, with recovered flame.

Yet by what means this wondrous change results, 950 Whence fails the soul, and all the body droops. Now mark, nor let the dictates waste in air.

Know then all ether, that around us flows. Beats on the body, open to its force. With ceaseless repercussion. Nature hence, 955

To check its fury, oft the tender frame With skin surrounds, hair, bark, or painted shells. Nor ceases here th' assault ; the breeze inhaled Winds, too, through aU the system, and each duct Lashes amain with every fleeting breath. 960

Since with a two-fold foe, then, Nature, thus. Through all her depths, through all her pores minute, Strives ceaseless, ruin by degrees must threat : For each primordial seed is deep deranged Of mind and body : while th' enfeebled soul, 965

By transudation shorn, concentrates part Li the deep vitals, and in part still roams Through sJl the limbs distracted, seed from seed

BOOK lY. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 413

Severed, to join all powerless, or resume

Their wonted action ; hence each varying sense, 970

The fount sensorial failing, must itsehT

Fail too abrupt, the total body droop.

The limbs grow languid, listless hang the hands.

Totter the knees, and the faint eye-lids falL

Thus food, alike, when through the frame it pours 975 Its stream salubrious, since the toiling air It mocks in action, slumber too excites. And heavier far his sleep whom diet full. Or long fatigue o'erpowers, for ampler, then, Th' intestine labour, and the soul flies off 980

Ampler external ; while the remnant shrinks Profounder part, and part through every limb Strays more distracted, of all bond devoid.

Thus slumber issues ; and whate'er the thoughts That chief subdue us, the concerns that claim 985

Our ceaseless care, or what the mind explores With patient pause, in dreams we still pursue. The lawyer, thus, o'er briefs and statutes pores ; New wars the soldier wages ; with the winds Strives the vain mariner ; while we the laws 990

Of nature scan perpetual, and how best. When traced, to paint them in our native tongue.

So various lores beside, and arts diverse Haunt, oft, in sleep the cheated mind of man. He who from eve to eve, assiduous, long 995

Has marked the public stage, though now no more It strikes his senses, through his porous frame Still the light images admits that float Countless around him. Hence, for many a day. E'en while awake, the scene before his eyes 1000

Seems still renewed ; the light-deckt dancers move Their modulated limbs, the living lyre He hears entranced, from every fluent string Speaking impassioned ; he the throng surveys. And all the pageantry the drama boasts. 1005

Of such vast import are the plans pursued. The thoughts indulged, the customs deep impressed Of man not merely, but of brutes as weU. For the nerved steed, as o'er the glebe he lies. Oft sweats, and pants laborious in liia s\eei^, \^\^

414 LUCBETIUS. BOOK IT.

As though amam contending for the palm.

So, too, the hound, amid his soft repose. Oft starts abrupt, and howls, and snuf& the breeze With ceaseless nostrils, as though fuU at hand He tracked the antlered trembler. And, at times, 1015 E'en while awake, with vigour he pursues Vain semblances of deer as though themselves Started before him, till the phantoms void Vanish at length, and truth regain her sway. E*en the soft lap-dog his inglorious sleep 1020

Breaks not imfrequent, rousing all erect, Urged by the semblance of some face unknown. And as of harsher seeds the trains are formed Of floating phantoms, with augmented force Strike they the mind. Hence birds, with flight abrupt, 1025 Oft to the centre of the sacred groves At midnight hurry, in their dreams disturbed By hideous sight of hawks, on outstretched wing. Prowling aloft all active for the pounce.

Then what vast toils engage men when asleep ! 1030 How pants the mind beneath superb exploits ! Kings strive with kings in combat ; or at large Contend, surrender, pour the cries of death ; While some fight on, though wounded, loading still All heaven with groans, as though to atoms torn 1035

By some huge lion, or remorseless pard. Some, too, aloud their machinations tell, And thus in sleep full oft themselves accuse. Some on their death-bed seem ; and some to leap Headlong from precipices ; by the fright IO40

Awoke, of reason so bereft, the mind Scarce with the day resumes its wonted reign.

While, oft, the dreamer, all athirst, overhangs Some joyous stream, and drinks the total tide. So boys asleep, too, deeming near at hand 1045

The public sewer, or close appropriate vase, Oft lift their skirts the native brine t' eject, And stain with saflron all the purple bed.

As the remaining portion of Good's Translation of this book has already been given at page 182, it has been deemed unnecessary to reprint it in its place here.

BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 415

BOOK V.

Who, from Lis burning breast, a strain may strike

Meet for the boundless majesty of things ?

Things now developed ? who, in words alone,

May pour forth praises worthy his desert

Whose matchless mind such wonders first disclosed ? 5

No mortal, doubtless. For, of things explored.

Such the majestic dignity, the sage

Must, so to speak, have been a god indeed :

A god, illustrious Memmius ! he who first

The rules of life devised, now termed by aU, 10

Sole, solid Wisdom ; he whose happy art

From such wild waves, such shades of ten-fold night.

Leads us to truth, tranquillity, and day.

What are to him the gods of earlier times ? Ceres, who taught the fruits of earth to rear, 15

As fame reports ? or Bacchus, first who stole The vine's purpureal spirit ? foods mankind Without may flourish, and, through many a clime. This moment know not ; but of virtue void, And purity of heart, man ill can thrive. 20

Hence ampler far his claim to rites divine Whose dulcet solaces whole nations feel. Soothing the wounded spirit as they flow.

Should'st thou with him e'en Hercules compare, Famed for exploits, from reason far thou err'st. 25

For what were now to us, with all their threats, Nemjea's lion, or th' Arcadian boar ? The bull of Crete, or hydra-headed snake That reared, o'er Lerna's banks, his dreadful fangs ? Or what ta us the triple-breasted strength 30

Of three-faced Geryon, or the horses wild Of Diomed, o'er Ismara, and Thrace, And all Bistonia, snorting ceaseless fire ? Wbat woes could these now menace ? or the birds With huge, uncleanly talons that defiled 35

The climes of Arcady ? or, feller still, Th' enormous dragon that, with eye severe, Clung round the tree of vegetable gold,

416 LUCKETIUS. BOOK Y.

And in Hesperia kept the glittering fruit ? How now could such affect us ? fixt remote 40

O'er boundless seas, beyond th* Atlantic shores. Where never mortal else, refined or rude, Dared urge his desperate sail ? E'en though alive, Unconquered still, from monsters such as these What need we dread ? Nought, doubtless, or I err. 45

For savage monsters crowd the world e'en now. Fearful and gaunt; and hills, and groves remote^ And pathless woods re-echo to their roar ; Scenes, still, our feet with ease may ever shun. But, with tlie mind unpurged, what tumults dir^ 50

What dangers inly rage ! what hosts of cares. From various lusts, convulse the total man ! What terrors throng ! what dread destruction flows From pomp, pride, passion, indolence, and vice ! He, then, that these o'erpowers, and from the breast 55 Drives, not by arms, but precepts sage and pure- Say — ought not this man with the gods to rank ? Since of themselves, too, and in strain divine, Much to the race of mortals he disclosed. And oped the nature of created things. 60

His steps I follow ; and, by him illumed. Unlock the laws whence first the world uprose ; Laws that still guide it, and to utmost time Will guide resistless ; whence the human soul Was stampt corporeal, impotent to live 66

Age after age triumphant o'er decay. Proving that nought but phantoms cheat the mind, When oft in sleep we deem the dead appear.

What then, in order, waits us but to sing How Nature's perishable system sprang, 70

As sure of fate as erst of natal hour ; How, from the mass material, heaven and earth. Sun, moon, and stars, harmonious swelled to life ; What animated tribes, from age to age. Have peopled space, and what have never lived : . 75

Whence man, in various tongues, the power possessed Of naming all surveyed ; whence the deep fear. Felt through the soul, of potentates divine, Urging the nations to the culture dread

BOOK V. ON THE NATOBB OP THINGS. 417

Of lakes, groves, altars, images, and fanes. 80

Ours, too, the task to show how Nature bends, With power presiding, the reluctant sun And moon through all their courses ; lest thou deem These of themselves, 'twixt heaven and earth, fulfil Their ceaseless rounds ; renewing, as they roll, 85

Fruits, and the sentient tribes ; or hold the gods Guide the vast frame, unwearied, and unseen. For he who justly deems th' immortals live Safe, and at ease, yet fluctuates in his mind How things are swayed, how chiefly those discerned 90 In heaven sublime, — to superstition back Lapses, and rears a tyrant host, and, then, Ckmceives, dull reasoner ! they can all things do ; While yet himself nor knows what may be done Nor what may never ; nature powers defined 95

Stamping on all, and bounds that none can pass.

Firsts to delay no more then, we maintain That earth, air, ocean, these stupendous scenes. These triple bodies so diversely reared. These, Memmius ! these one common day shall doom 100 ' To utter ruin ; when, for ages propt.

The world's vast system shall itself dissolve.

Nor hid from me how new the creed we teach. How wondrous to the mind, that heaven and earth Should perish ever ; or how hard the task 105

By words alone such tenets to confirm. For thus thou e'er wilt find it when thy tongue Opes some fresh subject sight has ne'er surveyed. Nor touch developed, the main roads belief Treads to the breast, and temple of the mind. 1 10

Yet will I strive ; facts, haply, shall themselves Aid me, and thou the world's vast fabric own By dread convulsions shortly must be shook. May fortune's smile this hour from us avert ! And truth, not feeling, the tremendous roar 115

Teach, with which all to ruin then shall rush !

Yet on this theme before the muse unlock Her mystic treasures, sager and more true Than e'er the Pythian maid, with laurels crowned, Spoke from the tripod at Apollo's shrine, — 120

2 E

418 LUCRETIUS. BOOK T.

Some salutary precepts would I add.

Lest, chained by superstition, thou shoold'st deem

Heaven, earth, and ocean, sun, moon, stars exist

Grods in their frame, and of eternal date.

And fear for those the vengeance that pursued 125

The race gigantic, who, with lettered lore.

Shako the world's walls, the radiant eye of heaven

Quench, and th' immortals sketch in mortal terms.

For tliese, so far from arrogating, proud.

Celestial honours, and the rank of gods, 130

Full proof exhibit, rather, how devoid

Of vital action matter may exist,

And that not every compound frame alike

Boasts the high powers of intellect and mind.

Trees not in ether, not in ocean clouds, 133

Nor in the fields can fishes e'er exist ; Nor blood in planks, nor vital juice in stones ; But all springs definite in scenes defined. So in the bosom lives, and there alone, Mixt with its blood and nerves, the secret mind. 140

There only lives ; for, could it roam at all. Then rather should we through the body's self, The heel or shoulder, or where else it chose. Oft trace it wandering than forlorn abroad. Since, e'en in body then, the soul and mind 145

Are fixt thus definite, we amply prove That out of body, and a reasoning frame, In putrid glebes of earth, or solar fire, In air, or water, sense can never dwell. And hence these ne'er divinity can boast, 150

Since e'en devoid of animated life.

Nor deem the sacred mansion of the gods O'er aught extend of this material frame : For their immortal nature, far removed From human sense, from matter gross and dull, 155

Scarce by the mind's pure spirit can be traced. Hence, as no touch of matter these can reach, Their finer textures never can impress Material objects, for whate'er exists

Intangible, itself can never touch. 160

And, thus, th' immortal regions must from ours

BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 419

Wide vary, congruous to their purer frames : As soon the muse in ampler verse shall prove.

T* assert moreo'er the gods for mortal man Reared this vast fabric, and that duty, hence, 165

Bids us extol the workmanship divine. Deem it immortal, and of deathless date, And that most impious is it to arraign Aught thus constructed by the gods themselves From earliest time, for man's perpetual use ; 170

Most impious, though in words alone, to shake The world's firm basis, — such conceits to feign, To talk thus idly, Memmius, is to rave. For what vast gain can e'er th' immortal powers. Blest in themselves, from human praise derive 175

To rouse them in our favour ? what new hope, Such ages after of unsullied peace, Could tempt them once to linger for a change ? New scenes to welcome, joyless proves the past ; But where no ill can rise, where every hour, 180

Age after age, propitious still must glide, How can the breast here burn for what is new ? Dragged they their lives in darkness, then, and woe Till sprang th' illumined world ? or, if ne'er born. What cause could man have marshalled for complaint ? 185 Bom, it behoves him, doubtless, to remain In life while life one blessing can afford ; But what of vital joy ne'er tasted, ne'er Ranked with the living, how can such object. And with what reason, that it ne'er was formed? 190

Whence could the gods the model, too, deduce Of things create, the portraiture of man ? Or in their minds how first the notion spring ? Whence, too, the powers of atoms could they learn. Changing their act as in position changed, 195

If nature ne'er the visual world had reared ? Atoms, innumerous, that in countless modes, From time eternal have been so convulsed By repercussions, by intrinsic weight So urged and altered, and, in every form 200

Combined, evincing still some action new.

In every mass some effort to create,

2 E 2

422 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V.

Whence winds again the dulcet tide throagh paths 286 Its liquid feet have printed oft before.

To air now turn we, varying every hour In every mode : for all that pours profuse From things perpetual, the vast ocean joins Of air sublime ; which if to things again 290

Paid not, thus balancing the loss sustained, All into air would dissipate and die. Hence, bom from things, to things air still returns Ceaseless, as prove their fluctuating forms.

Then, too, th' ethereal sun, exhaustless fount 295

Of liquid light, all heaven with flame bedews, And pours o'er lustre lustre ever new. For, fall where'er it may, th' impinging beam Dies in the contest instant. This full clear See we, whene'er by interposing clouds, 300

The solar disc is blotted, and its rays Fractured abrupt ; for the bright stream below Then fades, and all the sickening scene is shade. Hence may'st thou learn that things for ever claim New radiance, and that every wave propelled 305

Wastes instantaneous — while alone survives Perpetual shine from rays perpetual poured.

So from our earthly lights, too, trimmed at eve, The pendant lamp, the taper, or the torch Flaring bituminous through clouds of smoke, 310

Stream new-born lustres from their several fires With brandish ceaseless, ceaseless or the scene Would instant frown with discontinuous blaze. So rapid rush they ! such the headlong speed With which the present triumphs o'er the past. 315

So sun, moon, stars alike are deemed t' eject, Birth after birth, still fresh-engendered rays. Glittering through time with light that never lives.

E'en seest thou not how stones themselves decay ? How turrets totter, and the rigid rock 320

Crumbles in time to dust ? how yield, at length, Fanes, altars, images by age worn out ? Nor can the gods resist th' impending fate. Or war with nature. Moulder not, moreo'er, The marble tombs of heroes? as though each 325

BOOK V. ON THE NATUEE OF THINGS. 423

Sought, like the form it clasps, an early end.

And rush not oft huge crags, from mountain heights

Hurled headlong, powerless to resist the rage

Of finite time ? for had they flourished firm

From time eternal, they had floujrished still. 330

View this vast concave that above, around, Folds all creation in its mighty grasp ; This whence, as some tell, all first rose, and where All shall at last return — this too exists Create and mortal ; for whatever augments 335

Aught else, and nurtures, must itself decrease. Repaired alone by tnatters re-absorbed.

Yet grant this heaven, this earth the heaven surrounds, Time ne'er produced, eternal of themselves — Whence ere the Theban war, and fate of Troy, 340

Have earlier bards no earlier actions sung ? Whence fell each chief unhonoured ? and his deeds Shut from the tablet of immortal fame ? But, or I err, the world's vast scope exists New from its nature, and of recent birth : 345

For many a liberal art now first unfolds. And much is still progressive ; genius much. E'en at this hour, to navigation adds ; Nor minstrels long have struck the dulcet lyre : While the vast science of the Rise of Things 350

Throughout is novel ; and, among the first, I first am numbered who the lore devised. And taught its dictates in our native tongue.

Yet should'st thou deem that all things erst ensued As now, but that the race of men unknown, 355

With all their records, conflagrations dire Swept from the world, or earthquakes deep ingulfed, Or floods, rapacious from perpetual rains. Drowned, and their towns and citadels dissolved : Then flows it doubly thou must own, convinced, 360

That heaven and earth hereafter may decay. For since such woes, such dangers can assail Created things, when once the cause augments Perdition boundless must perforce ensue. Nor by aught else can we ourselves decide 365

Mortal, but that with maladies we droop

424 LUCBETIUS. BOOK. T.

Like those whom Natttbe ceaseless calls from life.

What lives immortal, too, must so exist Or from its own solidity, empowered

Each blow to conquer, undivided still 370

As primal atoms, long interior sung ; Or since, like vacuum, of all friction void. Free from all touch, by impulse unimpaired ; Or from the want of circling space in which The severing atoms may dissolve and fall : 375

Such want the boundless whole of nature proves. And hence eternal , for no place beyond Spreads where its seeds could waste ; nor from without Can foreign force e'er enter to destroy. But nor, as urged above, exists the world 380

All solid, since in all things void combines. Nor yet all vacuum ; nor, from the profound^ Are wanting powers adverse that, into act Once roused tempestuous, may the world derange. Or sever total ; nor deficient space 385

Spread widely round, through which, in countless modesi The frame mundane may crumble and dissolve ; Hence not precluded from the gates of death Is heaven, or earth, or sun, or main immense, Gates in full view, unfolded wide to each. 390

Hence too, since mortal, each alike exists Of frame created ; for no mortal make Could, from eternal time, the rage have borne Of countless ages urgent to devour.

And since, moreo'er, the world's vast members strive 395 In ruthless war, contending each with each, Seest thou not clear some final shock must soon Decide the contest ? that the fiery sun Perchance may conquer, and each flood drink up Till nought survive ; as oft disposed he seems ; 400

Yet idly. For so vast the stores supplied From springs perpetual, such the boundless main, A daily deluge threats us ; yet alike Threats us in vain ; for much the winnowing winds Skim from the surface, and th' ethereal sun 405

Such draughts exhales insatiate, that the world With drought than deluge rather must expire :

BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 425

So Strive they equal, so with powers alike

Pant for the lists. And hence, as fame reports,

Flame triumphed once, and once the boisterous waves 410

Leaped o'er their boundaries, and the world ingulfed.

Flame triumphed, and the total orb was fire

When the wild fury of the solar steeds

Whirled through the heavens, and o'er th' astounded earth

Ill-fated Phaeton, whom, deep-incensed, 415

Almighty Jove hurled headlong from the skies.

While Phcebus caught th' eternal lamp, restrained

Abrupt the trembling coursers, reined afresh.

And into peace re-organized the world.

So feign the bards of Greece, devoid alike 420

Of truth and reason. Yet the power of fire

Doubtless might triumph, should the fiery seeds

Collect too largely from th' abyss of things :

When or some fiercer force their rage must quell,

Or the red siroc bum the world to dust. 425

Thus, too, th' insurgent waters once o'erpowered. As fables tell, and deluged many a state ; Till, in its turn, the congregated waves By cause more potent conquered, heaven restrained Its ceaseless torrents, and the floods decreased. 430

But from this boundless mass of matter first How heaven, and earth, and ocean, sun, and moon. Rose in nice order, now the muse shall tell. For never, doubtless, from result of thought, Or mutual compact, could primordial seeds 435

First harmonize, or move with powers precise. But countless crowds in countless manners urged, From time eternal, by intrinsic weight, And ceaseless repercussion, to combine In all the possibilities of forms, 440

Of actions, and connexions, and exert In every change some effort to create — Reared the rude frame at length, abruptly reared. Which, when once gendered, must the basis prove Of things sublime ; and whence eventual rose 445

Heaven, earth, and ocean, and the tribes of sense.

Yet now nor sun on fiery wheel was seen Riding sublime, nor stars adorned the pole.

426 ixcKsnrs. book t.

Nor hearen, nor earth, nor air, nor oeeu liTed,

Xor aught of project mortal 9%fat amveys ; 450

Bat one rast chaoe boiateroiBr wad confmed.

Tet order hence began ; the mingled mass

Unreiled its rarioos powers ; co^enial parts

Parts joined congenial ; and the risii^ world

Gradual eTolred : its mightj members each 455

From each dirided, and matored complete

From seeds appropriate ; whose wild discord erst^

Beared by their strange diversities of form.

With ruthless war so broke their proper piAha^

Their motions^ intervals, conjunctions, weights, 460

And repercussions, nought of genial act

Till now could follow, nor the seeds themselTes,

E'en though conjoined, in mutual bond cohere.

Thus air, secreted, rose o'er labouring earth ;

Secreted, ocean flowed ; and the pure fire, 465

Secreted too, towards ether sprang sublime.

But first the seeds terrene, since ponderous most. And most perplext, in close embraces dung. And towards the centre conglobating sunk. And, as the bond grew firmer, ampler forth 470

Pressed thej the fluent essences that reared Sun, moon, and stars, and main, and heaven's high walls. For these of atoms lighter far consist. Subtler, and more rotund than those of earth. Whence, from the pores terrene, with foremost haste 475 Rushed the bright ether, towering high, and swift Streams of pure fire attracting as it flowed. Not diflering wide from what full oft we view When, at the dawn, the golden-tressed sun Flames o'er the meadows rich with rory gems, 480

And from the mountains, lakes, and teeming glebes. Draws many a vapour ; which, when once aloft By the chill air condensed, to clouds concretes, And with its filmy drapery veils the heavens. So the light ether, as from every point 485

Fluent it rose, concreted, and a bound Gradual assumed, and, thus assuming, grasped In its vast compass all th' evolving world.

Then mounted, next, the base of sun, and moon.

BOOK V. ON TflE NATURE OF THINGS. 427

'Twixt earth and ether, in the midway air, 490

Rolling their orbs ; for into neither these

Could blend harmonious, since too light with earth

To sink deprest, while yet too ponderous far

To fly with ether towards the realms extreme :

So 'twixt the two they hovered ; vital there 495

Moving for ever, parts of the vast whole ;

As move for ever in the frame of man

Some active organs, while some oft repose.

These from the mass discharged, much next of earth Subsided sudden, and the gulf disclosed 500

Where ocean rolls his blue and briny tide. And as th' ethereal gas, and solar blaze Flowed more profuse, and lashed, with ceaseless rage. The porous surface, firmer thus condensed Towards its own centre, the corrosive lymph 505

Ampler transuded ; and with livelier streams Filled the wide hollow of the liquid plains : And ampler, too, th' attenuate textures rushed Of air, and fire, and, borne on swifter wing. High reared the radiant temples of the sky. 510

Low sunk the vales, the mountains still sublime Stood, for no power their rocky base could shake, Nor equal settled e'en the softer soils. So all was formed : the ponderous bulk of earth Concentred close, and to the lowliest base 515

Fell, the foul faeces of th' unfolding world : While ocean, air, and ether filled with fire, Sprang from the remnant atoms more refined. Yet these, too, differed ; for, though liquid all, And light, yet ether far the rest surpassed, 520

Most light, most liquid, and in heaven sublime Hence loftiest towered it, never mingling once With the rude tumults of the lowlier air : For whirlwinds this, and wayward tempests, oft, Shatter abrupt, while ether glides through time 525

In one smooth course, and bears its fires along ; As flows th' undevious Euxine, and preserves One ceaseless tenor, limpid and serene.

How move the stars, now next the muse shall sing. And first, if heaven's vast orb we deem. revoVsr^ ^*^^

428 UTcseiius. book t.

Round the fizt earth, same subtle gas, perchano^ Bounds it on all sides, and wifii two-fodd Btreara, Whirls round its poles ; the cmitait urged above Steering the course the gliding planets point. Themselves hence soon propelled ; wfaHe that below S2S Flows adverse, and the nether inhere drives on. As drives the tide the miirs unwearied wtoeL

Yet, if unmoved the heavenly orb we deem. Its £res may still revolve : some resdess seeds Of all-elastic ether, dose pent up, 540

Panting for ease, may agitate tbor ballsy And round the sky's refulgent concave whiri. Or air absorbed extrinsic may, alike, With restless rage compel them ; <»* themselves Each choose his various path as food invites^ 546

Their lucid lamps recruiting through the heaivais. But of these causes which in this world rules 'Tis hard t' affirm ; whence rather here we teach What through th' EIntire of Natube may subast Mid various worlds to various models framed, 550

And strive t' unfold whate'er may haply bend. In different systems, different stars, than aught Assign precise for either. One alone Of those now numbered, one sole cause propels The stars of earth, but which that cause the sage 555

Yet dares not name, who treads with cautious foot.

But, that this mass terrene might hold unmoved The world's mid regions, its excess of weight, From its own centre downwards, gradual ceased ; And all below a different power assumed 560

From earliest birth, a nature more attuned To the pure air on which it safe reposed. Hence earth to air no burden proves, nor deep Grinds it with pressure ; as the limbs no load Feel to the body, to the neck no weight 565

Th* incumbent head, nor e'en the total form Minutest labour to the feet below : While yet each foreign substance, though but light, Grieves oft severely instant as imposed ; So vast th' importance things their like should join. 570 For from a distance earth was never brought,

BOOK V. ON THE NATUBE OP THINGS. 429

And into air at once abruptly hurled ;

But both sprang equal when the world first rose,

Each part of each as limb with limb combines.

When, too, with thunder shake the realms above 57o Earth feels the dread concussion, and rebounds ; Eflfect which ne*er could flow did nought of tie Bind it to ether, and the world of air : For each to each, as with commingled roots, Cleave from their birth, congenial, and conjoined. 580

Seest thou not, ceaseless, how th' attenuate soul Bears up the ponderous body, since alike Conjoined, congenial ; when the total frame Leaps up abrupt, whence flows the salient force But from the soul the members that commands ? 585

Seest thou not hence, then, what the subtlest power May compass when with ponderous frames conjunct. As earth with air, or with the body mind ?

Nor less, nor larger much the solar wheel Measures than meets the view : far be the space 590

Of utmost length through which aught igneous throws Its liquid heat, its lustre o'er the limbs. While these yet reach us it can ne'er so far Lie that the distance should curtail its size. Since, then, the sun flings down his fires, profuse, 595 His light on all things, he must still exist Nor less, nor larger than the vision views.

Thus too the moon, shine she with borrowed blaze, Or pour essential splendour from herself, Moves with the magnitude the sight surveys. 600

For all discerned through tracts of air remote Grows first confused and indistinct of form Ere yet its size diminish ; but the moon, Sitice traced precise through e'en her utmost orb, Must prove the sphere the sight descries sublime. 605

Th' ethereal stars, moreo'er — since lights terrene Receding gradual, while they yet maintain Their lambent fires, their radiance unimpaired. Scarce obvious dwindle, — must themselves alike In size scarce vary from the form they show. 610

Nor deem it strange that so minute a sun Should pour forth flame sufficient heaven to fill.

430 LUCRETTOS. BOOK T.

And earth, and ocean, and wfaate'er exists

Tinge with its glittering dew ; for, from abroad

The myriad sec^ of fire dispersed at large 615

Through all things, here as to their foontaiB flow.

And hence well forth o'er all th' exulting world

In boundless flood : seest thou how small a spring

Feeds with its liquid treasures meads, full ofi^

X)f amplest breadth, and all their glebe o'erflows ? 620

Or the small globe of solar flame, perchance^ Th' eflnsive air may flre, than aught be^des Ignited easier by th' impinging ray ; As oft some casual spark the field inflames Of full-ripe com, or stubble crisp and sear. 625

Or haply stores, impalpable to sight. Of latent heat the rosy lamp surround, Whence amply draws it its eternal blaze.

Nor trace we clear by what unvarying law. When summer fades, the sun his downward path. 630

Bends towards the wintry goat, and thence, in tarn, Reclimbs the heavens, and, from the red crab, poars The sultry solstice ; or, why seems the moon O'er the same space to voyage every month The toiling sun claims twelve t' achieve complete. 635

These nought unfolds decisive ; for the dogm Of sage Democritus we, first, may deem Haply efficient, that the radiant signs. As nearer earth aflEixed, less rapid far Roll in the heaven's vast whirlpool, heaven below 640

Gradual its race relaxing ; whence the sun And solar satellites must more and more Be backwards left, deserted, since full deep Lie they beneath the blue ethereal fires : While the bright moon lies deeper still, and hence 645 Still powerless more, as nearer earth's low bounds. To match the speed the loftier signs display. As tardier moves she in her proner path Than moves the sun, as swifter o'er her rolls The wondrous vortex of sublimest heaven. 650

Whence seems she speedier through each sign t' advance. While o'er herself each sign but fleeter flies.

Or different airs, perchance, at times defined,

BOOK V. ON THE NATUBE OF THINGS. 431

Rush, o'er the converse hemispheres of earth ;

This the moon driving from the summer fires 655

Down towards the wintry arc, and realms of ice ;

And that, alternate, raising her again

From frost's drear solstice to the sultry signs.

Thus moves the sun too, haply, and the stars

Alternate thus, by converse airs propelled, 660

Roll their vast rounds, and fill the mighty year.

Seest thou not oft, from different winds, the clouds

Above borne different from the clouds below ?

Why then, alike, may different streams of air

Bend not the stars, the planets through their paths ? 665

Then night, at length, the world with darkness shrouds. Or since the sun, at heaven's remotest verge. Tired with his toil, his remnant lamp blows out. Curtailed already by the race achieved Through long concussive air ; or the same power 670

Still dnves his restless axle earth beneath. That, through the day, propelled his orb sublime.

Then the young moknino, too, at hour precise Leads through th' ethereal realms the rosy dawn, New light diffusing ; either since the sun, 675

Th' inferior earth encompassed, now once more Tries his fresh strength, and with proj edited rays Anticipates his orb ; or that the seeds Of embryo-fires, in full divan convened At punctual periods in the purple east, 680

Gradual condense, and rear the solar blaze. For thus, we learn, from Ida's top surveyed. Seem they, the flames diffused conglobing firm Till springs, at length, the radiant orb complete.

Nor strange conceive it that the seeds of fire 685

Should thus assemble, and, at hour precise, Renew the solar splendour : facts like these All nature wide displays ; at hour precise Blossoms the shrub, at hour precise its bloom Loses deciduous ; fixt, determined time 690

Throws from the boy his infant teeth, arrays In downy puberty, and, o'er his cheeks. Flings the first feathers of th' unripened beard. Clouds, thunders, tempests, rains, and gelid snows,

432 LVCSETitrs. book t.

At punctual seasons all alike recur. 695

For as the train of causes first oprose, And the joong world its earliest features fbond. Things follow things in order most exact

And daj elongates, and the night oontracts. And night augments, and daj curtails its course^ 700

Since the same sun, earth under and above Revolving, ether with unequal curve Cleaves, and to parts of magnitude unlike Severs the globe ; alternate this o'er that Prevailing gradual till the nodes he reach 705

Where night and daj assimilate their reigns. For, in the central realms 'twixt north and sooth. His utmost wanderings, midway, heaven divides : So traverse winds the &tar-enamelled path Through which his mazy steps the seasons lead, 710

With ray oblique illuming earth and sky. For thus they hold the heavenly orb who mtak Throughout arranged with constellations fair. Or, earth beneath, the atmosphere, perchance. Hangs, in fixt places, heavier ; whence the seeds 715

Of congregating fires, with toil immense, Wade through, and later weave the trembling dawn : And whence, through winter, long the tedious night Drawls, ere the day-star rears his radiant front. Or, haply, the young fires that frame the sun 720

More swift or tardy towards the purple east Alternate rush, as round the seasons roll.

The moon may shine by solar lustres struck. Her argent front augmenting every day As from the sun she wanders, till, at length, 725

Now full opposed, her total disc is light. And, rising east, she marks his westward fall : Then step by step retracting, earth beneath. Her full-blown lamp, as towards the sun she curves, Through all the remnant of the radiant signs ; 730

As deems the sage who holds her form globose, And that below the solar orb her path Punctual she winds ; and sound the doctrine seems.

Yet may the moon with lustre all her own Shine, every phase unfolding, if, in front, 735

BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 483

Some other orb attend her, through her course

Gliding complete, in every mode convolved,

While viewless still to sight since reared opaque.

Or she may still, if spherical of form,

Each change disclose, though luminous but half: 740

For, as she self-revolves, her gradual lamp

Must grow till all her bright side beams complete ;

Then, rolling still, as gradual must she close

Her lucid eye, till all opposed is shade ;

As teach Chaldean magi, striving strong 746

The schools of Greece t' o'erpower, as though the ci'ieeds

Waged endless war, or this than that adduced

Proofs more conclusive to th' unbiassed mind.

Why too may not each rising moon be new ? Its time, form, place, by nicest order swayed, 750

And, springing daily, daily too decay, Still reproduced for ever ? this to solve Both words and reasoning arduous find alike. Since things throughout in order flow precise.

Spring comes, and Venus, and, with foot advanced^ 755 The light-winged Zephyr, harbinger beloved, Maternal Flora strewing, ere she treads, O'er every footstep blooms of choicest hue, And the glad Ether loading with perfumes. Then Heat succeeds, the parched Etesian breeze, 760 And dust-discoloured Ceres ; Autumn, then. Follows, and tipsy Bacchus arm in arm, And Storms and Tempests ; Eurus roars amain ; And the red South brews thunders : till, at length, Cold shuts the scene, and Winter's train prev^, 765 Snows, hoary Sleet, and Frost with chattering teeth. Whence scarce stupendous seems it that the moon Should punctual rise, and, rising, punctual die, Since things at large, so punctual, things succeed.

Thus, too, to various causes may'st thou charge 770 The sun's eclipse, or shade of lunar light. For why should rather, 'twixt the sun and earth. The moon rush rampant, and with shadowy orb^ Shut from mankind the radiant fount of day, Than aught besides that haply may subsist 775

Rolling sublime, but ever void of iUght ?

2 F

434 LUCRETIUS, BOOK T

Why may not, too, in time and place prescribed.

The sun himself grow languid, his bright beam

Powerless to poor, till now the spot he pass

That thus obstructs his glory and renews ? 78<

And why, moreo'er, should earth alone arrest Light from the labouring moon, and, riding high. Blindfold the solar disc, the lunar sphere. Still loftier, gliding through her shadowy cone;, While nought of body else, *twixt moon and sun 78^

Rushing, can quench the ray profusely dealt ? So,' if the moon herself be lustrous, why May ne'er that lustre languish tiU the bound Joyous she pass that poisons all her lamp ?

Thus having traced the causes obvious most "790

That sway the sapphire heavens ; whence the bright sun, The moon fulfil their courses, and the shade How reared that oft their radiant front enwraps, E[iding abrupt, as though their eyes now winked. And now re-opened, o'er the face of things 795

Shedding afresh clear floods of lucid white ; Once more return we to the world's pure prime, , Her fields yet liquid, and the tribes survey First she put forth, and trusted to the winds.

And first the race she reared of verdant herbs, 80C

Glistening o'er every hill ; the fields at large Shone with the verdant tincture, and the trees Felt the deep impulse, and with outstretched arms Broke from their bonds rejoicing. As the down Shoots from the winged nations, or from beasts 80o

Bristles or hair, so poured the new-bom earth Plants, fruits, and herbage. Then, in order next. Raised she the sentient tribes, in various modes. By various powers distinguished : for nor heaven Down dropped them, nor from ocean's briny waves 81C Sprang they, terrestrial sole ; whence, justly, Earth Claims the dear name of mother, since alone Flowed from herself whate'er the sight surveys.

E'en now oft rears she many a sentient tribe. By showers and sun-shine ushered into day. 815

Whence less stupendous tribes should then have risen More, and of ampler make, herself new-formed.

BOOK V. ON THE NATUEE OF THINGS. 435

In flower of youth, and Ether all mature.

Of these birds first, of wing and plume diverse. Broke their light shells in spring-time : as in spring 820 Still breaks the grasshopper his curious web, And seeks, spontaneous, foods and vital air.

Then rushed the ranks of mortals ; for the soil, Exuberant then, with warmth and moisture teemed. So, o'er each scene appropriate, myriad wombs 825

Shot, and expanded, to the genial sward By fibres fixt ; and as, in ripened hour, Their liquid orbs the daring fetus broke Of breath impatient, nature here transformed Th' assenting earth, and taught her opening veins 830 With juice to flow lacteal ; as the fair Now with sweet milk o'erflows, whose raptured breast First hails the stranger-babe, since all absorbed Of nurture, to the genial tide converts. Earth fed the nursling, the warm ether clothed, 835

And the soft downy grass his couch composed.

For the fresh world, as yet, no chills severe, No parching heats, nor boisterous whirlwinds knew ; These, like all else, by time alone matured.

Hence the dear name of mother, o'er and o'er, 840

Earth claims most justly, since the race of man Long bore she of herself, each brutal tribe Wild-wandering o'er the mountains, and the birds Gray-winged, that cleave, diverse, the liquid air. Yet drew, at length, the moment when herself 845

Could bear no longer ; like her daughters since, By age divested of parturient power. For age the total world transforms, from state To state for ever passing ; nought remains Long its own like ; all migrates sight surveys, 850

Varying each hour, from change to change propelled. This grows and ripens, and with age corrupts ; That, from its ruins, springs, and perfects life. So time transmutes the total world's vast frame. From state to state urged on, now void of powers 855

Erst known, and boasting those unknown before.

Hence, doubtless, earth prodigious forms at first Gendered, of face and members most grotesG^ue \

2 F 2

436 LU€RBTnJB. BOOK T.

Monsters half-man, half-woman, not from each

Distant, yet neither total ; shapes unsound, 860

Footless, and handless, void of mouth or eye.

Or from misj unction, maimed, of limh with limb :

To act all impotent, or flee from harm.

Or nurture take their loathsome days t' extend.

These sprang at first, and things alike uncouth ; 865 Yet vainly ; for abhorrent nature quick Checked their vile growth ; so life's consummate flower Ne'er reached they, foods appropriate never cropped, Nor tasted joys venereal. For with cause Cause ceaseless must combine, or nought can rise 870

Of race generic ; genial foods must spring And genial organs, from the total frame The vital seeds concocted to collect ; And male must blend with female, and the bliss Educed prove mutual, ere effect can flow. 875

Hence, doubtless, many a tribe has sunk supprest, Powerless its kind to gender. For whatever Feeds on the living ether, craft or speed, Or courage stem, from age to age preserves In ranks uninjured : while full many a class 880

Man guards himself, incited by their use.

In strength ferocious thus the lion trusts. In guile the fox, the stag in peerless flight ; While the light-slumbering dog, of heart sincere. The bounding courser, herds, and fleecy flocks, 885

These, Memmius, these protection claim from man. For these the baser broods fly anxious, fond Of quiet soft, and meals themselves ne'er bought ; Boons we bestow from certainty of gain. But those such powers that boast not, void of means 890 Formed, for defence, nor tribute to mankind Repaying ever — ^why should human aid To such be lent, redeeming them from death ? These, from their native bondage, must perforce Fall to the feller sports, and victims rude, 895

Till the whole order cease, from earth extinct.

Yet Centaurs lived not ; nor could shapes like these Live ever, from two different natures reared. Discordant limbs, and powers by powers reversed.

BOOK V. ON THB NATUBE OF THINGS. 437

E'en this the dullest thns with ease may learn. 900

The steed, o'er whom the year has thrice revolved, Grows firm and vigorous ; but the babe a babe StiU proves, and haply still explores, asleep. The dulcet breast whose stores were late his own. When, too, the steed's strong fibres faint with age, 905 And every member feels the coming fate. Youth o'er the boy his fairest flower expands, And the soft down sprouts earliest from his chin. Deem not that nuin, then, and the servile horse. Seeds mixt with seeds, can Centaubs e'er create ; 910 Or, false aUke, that Sctllas e'er exist, Hfdf-maid, half-mastiff; or aught else of shape Engendered equal, dissonant of limb. Whose flowery strength at different age matures. And fades as different ; whose connubial fires 915

Bum not the same ; whose total tempers jar, And from discordant foods who nurture Hfe : For hemlock, oft, rank poison to mankind. Fattens the bearded goat with foul repast.

So, too, since flame the lion's tawny skin 920

As fiercely bums as aught of brute besides. Whence, when three natures into one combine. The front a lion forming, the vile rump A dragon, and the midst a goat grotesque, Hence termed Chimera, can the breathing lungs 925

Pour streams of fire innocuous from the mouth ?

Hence those who hold, when heaven and earth were new. Urged by that newness as their total proof. Such monsters rose, and shapes alike absurd. On equal ground might feign the world's first floods 930 Were liquid gold, her eariiest blossoms peark, And the first men such massy limbs displayed That seas might rush beneath each ample stride. And their vast fingers twirl the heaven's high orb. But though, conmiixt, then various seeds of things 935 Thronged through the teeming soil, it flows not hence That tribes unlike sprang forth with blended limbs. Still from the soil herbs, fruits, and trees diverse Shoot in profusion ; but each separate class Ne'er blends preposterous. Things thio\k^\Myo^ ^va((»^%^S^

438 LUCRETIUS. BOOK T.

In firm, undevious order, and maintain, To nature true, their fixt generic stamp.

Yet man's first sons, as o'er the fields they trod. Reared from the hardy earth, were hardier far ; Strong built with ampler bones, with muscles nerved 945 Broad and substantial ; to the power of heat, Of cold, of YBijing viands, and disease. Each hour superior ; the wild lives of beasts Leading, while many a lustre o'er them rolled. Nor crooked plough-share knew they, nor to drive, 950 Deep through the soil, the rich-returning spade ; Nor how the tender seedling to re-plant. Nor from the fruit-tree prune the withered branch. What showers bestowed, what earth spontaneous bore, And suns matured, their craving breasts appeased. 955 But acorn-meals chief culled they from the shade Of forest-oaks ; and, in their wintry months, The wild wood-whortle with its purple fruit Fed them, then larger and more amply poured. And many a boon besides, now long extinct, 960

The fresh-formed earth her hapless offspring dealt.

Then floods, and fountains, too, their thirst to slake, Called them, as now the cataract abrupt Calls, when athirst, the desert's savage tribes. And, through the night still wandering, they the caves 965 Thronged of the wood-nymphs, whence the babbling well Gushed oft profuse, and down its pebbly sides. Its pebbly sides with verdant moss o'erspread, Oozed slow, or sought, redundant sought, the plains.

Nor knew they yet the crackling blaze t' excite, 970

Or clothe their limbs with furs, or savage hides. But groves concealed them, woods, and hollow hills ; And, when rude rains, or bitter blasts o'erpowered. Low bushy shrubs their squalid members wrapped.

Nor public weal they boasted, nor the bonds 975

Sacred of laws, and order ; what loose chance Offered, each seized instinctive ; for himself. His life, his limbs, instructed sole to care.

Wild in the forests they fulfilled their loves, Or urged by mutual raptures, or the male, 980

Stung by fierce lust the female form subdued,

BOOK V. ON THE NATUBE OF THINGS. 439

Or bought her favours by the tempting bait Of acoms, crabs, or berries blushing deep.

And in their keen rapidity of hand And foot confiding, oft the savage train 985

With missile stones they hunted, or the force Of clubs enormous ; many a tribe they felled, Yet some in caves shunned, cautious ; where, at night. Thronged they, like bristly swine ; their naked limbs With herbs and leaves entwining. Nought of fear 990 Urged them to quit the darkness, and recall, With clamorous cries, the sunshine and the day : But sound they sunk in deep, oblivious sleep. Till o'er the mountains blushed the roseate dawn. For, from their birth, with ceaseless sight they traced 995 Night and the noon alternate, nor e'eft once Sprang the dread thought that such alternate night Would ere long reign eternal, and the noon O'er their closed eye-balls never glitter more. This ne'er distressed them, but the fear alone 1000

Some ruthless monster might their dreams molest. The foamy boar, or lion, from their caves Drive them aghast beneath the midnight shade, And seize their leaf- wrought couches for themselves.

Yet then scarce more of mortal race than now 1005

Left the sweet lustre of the liquid day. Some, doubtless, oft the prowling monsters gaunt Grasped in their jaws, abrupt ; whence, through the groves, The woods, the mountains, they vociferous groaned, Destined thus Hving to a living tomb. 1010

And some, by flight though saved from present fate, Covering their fetid ulcers with their haiids. Prone o'er the ground death-still, with horrid voice. Called, till vile worms devoured them, void of aid. And all unskilled their deadly pangs t' appease. 1015

But thousands, then, the pomps of war beneath. Fell not at once ; nor ocean's boisterous waves Wrecked, o'er rough rocks, whole fleets and countless crews* Nor ocean then, though oft to frenzy wrought, Could aught indulge but inefiectual ire : 1020

Nor, lulled to calms, could e'er his traitor face Lead, o'er the laughing waves, mistrustful man.

440 I.1CCXETIU8. BOOK T.

Untaught tiie drngerons seienee of the seas. Then want eonsomed their lai^nid membera, noir FoIl-gcH^ged exoesB ilevom's ib : thej themaehres 1Q25

Fed, heedlesB, oft with poiacns : ofter still Men DOW for others mix the fatal cop.

Yet when, at length, rode hots thej first devised. And fires, and gsrments ; and, in union sweet, Man wedded woman, the pore joys indulged 1030

Of chaste oonnulnal love, and diildren rose, The rough barbarians softened. The warm hearth Their ftames so melted they no more could bear. As erst, th' uncovered skies ; the nuptial bed Broke thdr wild vigour, and the fond caress 1036

Of prattling children from the boscmi chased Their stem ferocious manners. Neighbours now Joined in the bonds of ftiendship, and resolved The softer sex to cherish, and thdr babes ; And owned bj gestures, signs, and sounds uncouth, 1040 ^was just the weaklier to protect from harm. Yet all such bonds obeyed not ; but the good. The larger part their faith still uncorropt Kept, or the race of man had long expired, Nor sire to son transferred the life received. 1045

Then nature, next, the tongue's innomerous tones Urged them to try ; and sage convenience soon To things applied them : as the embryo speech Of infants first the aid of gesture claims, And pointing finger to define its sense. 1050

For all their proper powers perceive, and feel The use intended. The young calf, whose horns Ne'er yet have sprouted, with his naked front Butts when enraged : the lion-whelp or pard With claws and teeth contends, ere teeth or claws 1055 Scarce spring conspicuous : while the pinioned tribes Trust to their wings, and, from th' expanded down Draw, when first fledged, a tremulous defence. But to maintain that one devised alone Terms for all nature, and th' incipient tongue 1060

Taught to the gazers round him, is to rave. For how should he this latent power possess Of naming all things, and inventing speech.

BOOK V. ON THE NATX7BE OF THINGS. 441

If never mortal felt the same besides ?

And, if none else had e'er adopted sounds, 1065

Whence sprang the knowledge of their use ? or how

Could this first linguist to the crowds around

Teach what he meaned ? his sole unaided arm

Could ne'er o'erpower them, and compel to learn

The vocal science, nor could aught avail 1070

Of eloquence or wisdom : nor with ease

Would the vain babbler have been long allowed

To pour his noisy jargon o'er their ears.

But why so wondrous seems it that mankind. With voice and tongue endowed, to notice things 1075 That voice should vary with the things themselves, When the mute herds, and beasts ferocious, urged By grief, or fear, or soft, emollient joy. Press from their lungs sounds various and unlike ? This every hour displays. When half-enraged 1080

The rude Molossian mastiff, her keen teeth Baring tremendous, with far different tone Threats, than when roused to madness more extreme. Or when she barks, and fills the world with roar. Thus when her fearless whelps, too, she with tongue 1085 Lambent caresses, and with antic paw. And tooth restrained, pretending still to bite, Gtunbols, soft yelping tones of tender love — Far differ then those accents from the din Urged clamorous through the mansion when alone, 1090 Or the shrill howl her trembling bosom heaves When, with slunk form, she waits th' impending blow.

Neighs not the steed, too, different, when at large. Mid the young mares, in life's luxuriant prime. Pierced by the goads of pinioned love, he raves, — 1095 And when his full-blown nostrils snort for war. And every quivering limb the tumult hails ?

So, too, the feathery tribes of wing diverse, Osprey, or hawk, or cliff-delighted gull Gathering its vittd nurture from the deep, 1 100

Far different sounds at different times protrude Than when they strive, in hostile guise, for prey. E'en with the seasons some, as fame reports. Change their hoarse accents, as the social rook,

442 LucRETros. book v.

And time-triumphant raven, when for showers, 1 105

Or limpid rills they croak ; or, sultry, pant, ' Beneath the dog-star, for the freshening breeze.

. Since then such various feelings can compel Kinds the most mute such various sounds to eject. How just ensues it that the race of man 1 1 10

Should things diverse by countless tones denote ?

If through such subjects thou would'st farther pry, Know, then, that fire from thunder earliest sprang. Each flame hence gendered. For full many a scene Worked into blaze, th' ethereal flash beneath, 1115

See we the moment the dread shock is dealt. Oft see we, too, when, waving in the winds. Trees war with trees, the repercussion fierce 'Twixt branch and branch, stupendous, heat evolve^ Heat oft by flame succeeded; whence, perchance, 1120 From both mankind their primal fires deduced.

But from the sun first learned they to prepare The cultured meal hot-hissing o'er the hearth. For all. the plains produced the genial sun They saw subjecting, by perpetual warmth 1 125

Matured, and sweetened : whence the wiser part First dared the change, and taught their wondering peers The powers of coction, and the crackling blaze.

Those, too, elected rulers, now began Towns to project, and raise the massy fort, 1130

Heedful of distant dangers. Into shares Their herds and lands they severed ; and on those Chief famed for beauty, eloquence, or strength. Allotted ampler portions : for the form Much then availed, and much the potent arm. 1135

But wealth ere long was fashioned, gold uprose, And half the power of strength, and beauty fled. And still the brave, the beauteous still, too oft, Alike to riches bow the servile knee.

Yet truest riches, would mankind their breasts 1140 Bend to the precept, in a little lie, With mind well-poised ; here want can never come. But men will grasp at fame, will pant for power. As here though fortune fixed her firmest foot. And, these once gained, all else were peace and joy. 1145

BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 443

Fools thus to reason ! for the total path

Whoe'er attempts finds thronged with toils and pain ;

And Envy oft, like lightning, many a wretch *

E'en on its summit fixt, and free from fear.

Abrupt hurls headlong into gulfs profound. 1 150

Whence safer seems it far in low estate

Peaceful to serve, than reign, and rule mankind.

But, vainlj wearied, let them their life-blood

Sweat out, thus labouring up the tortuous steep,

O'er which, like lightning. Envy brews her storms, 11 55

Fond of high stations — since to tales they trust

Told them by others, while each sense possest

Belies the daring fiction ; men not more

Thus act, nor will do, than they erst have done.

But kings, and tyrants fell, their thrones reversed^ 1160 Their sceptres shivered, and the sparkling crown That decked their temples, to the dust condemned. Weeping its fate beneath the people's tread. Soon roused to trample what too much they fear. So to the rabble sunk, and ranks most vile, 11 65

The power supreme ; in one gross scramble all Striving for office, and superior sway. Yet order hence re-issued : some, at length. New magistracies planned, new laws devised. And all concurred t' obey them : for the strife 1170

'Twixt man and man exhausted all their strength ; Hence easier led, spontaneous, to the yoke Of equal rule and justice. Passion oft Boused them, they saw, to vengeance too severe, Broils heaped o'er broils the most ferocious tired, 1175 And ceaseless fear marred all the bliss of life. For force and rapine in their craftiest nets Oft their own sons entangle, and the plague Ten-fold recoils ; nor can the wretch with ease Live blest and tranquil whose atrocious soul 1180

Bursts the dear bonds of peace and social love. For, though from men, from gods, his guilt he hide, Detection fears he still ; since oft in dreams. In deep deliriums oft, th' unshackled tongue Tells crimes aloud for ever else concealed. 11 85

Next learn what cause, through many a m\%\xt^ x^^iSksci^

444 LUCRETIUS. BOOK T.

The system first of gods, and altars reared ; Whence the dread rites with solemn pomp pursued * When aught momentous man presumes t^ attempt ; The sacred horror, whence, that, through the woiid, 1190 Builds temples, statues, feasts and fasts ordains. This to resolye the muse not arduous deems.

For the first mortals effigies of gods Oft traced awake, when mused the mind profound. Yet, mid their dreams, still ofter, and in shape 1 195

More vast and wondrous ; these of sense possest Quick they conceived, since moved thej every limb, And spoke majestic with enormous voice Worthy their matchless make. Immortal life Next they bestowed, since with unvarying face, 1200

Unvarying form, the phantoms ever rose (As rise they must) ; and o'er such massy strength No power, they deemed, could triumph. Blest supreme Then, too, they held them, since the dread ai death Such ne'er could haunt, and deeds stupendous oft 1205 Seemed they, in dreams, with utmost ease f achieye.

Each various phase, moreo'er, the heavens disclose, ISach various season, punctual to its hour They marked incessant ; and, the cause unknown. These to the gods, with subterfuge most prompt, 1210

Nodding omnific, idly they referred.

And in the heavens their blest abodes they placed. Their awful temples, since both sun and moon Here radiant reign ; sun, moon, and day, and night. And night's dread fires, and meteors wandering wild, 1215 And swift-plumed lightnings, showers, and crystal dews, Clouds, snows, winds, thunders, hail, and countless storms. Through ether threatening with tremendous roar.

0 hapless mortals ! that could first ascribe Such facts, such furies to th' immortal gods. 1220

What myriad groans then reared ye for yourselves ! What wounds for us ! what tears for men unborn !

No : — it can ne'er be piety to turn To stocks and stones with deep- veiled visage ; light O'er every altar incense ; o'er the dust 1225

Fall prostrate, and, with outstretched arms, invoke Through every tempk every god that reigns,

BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 445

Soothe them with blood, and lavish vows on vows.

This rather thou term piety, to mark

With calm, untrembling soul each scene ordained. 1230

For when we, doubtful, heaven's high arch survey,

The firm, fixt ether, star-embossed, and pause

O'er the sun's path, and pale, meandering moon.

Then superstitious cares, erewhile represt

By cares more potent, lift their hydra-head. 1236

" What ! from the gods, then, flows this power immense

That sways, thus various, the bright host of stars ? " —

(For dubious reason still the mind perturbs :)

" This wondrous world how formed they ? to what end

Doomed ? through what period can its labouring walls

Bear the vast toil, the motions now sustained ? 1241

Or have th' immortals framed it free from death,

In firm, undevious course empowered to glide

O'er the broad ravage of eternal time ? "

Then, too, what breast recoils not with the dread 1245 Of gods like these ? who, with unshuddering limbs. Can view them dart o'er earth their forky flash, And roll their deep-toned thunder ? shrink not then Whole lands, whole nations ? o'er his shivering throne Starts not the tyrant, through each tendon starts, 1250 Mad with the sense of perfidies and blood. And in the storm contemplating his due ? —

Then faints not, too, the warlike chief who guides B[is fleet o'er ocean, when around him roars The maniac whirlwind ? falls he not profound 1255

Mid his vast elephants, and victor hosts. And tempts the gods with vows, and prays, aghast,. For winds appeased, and soft succeeding gales ? Yet vainly : for the wild tornado oft Hurls him all headlong to the gates of hell. 1260

So, from his awful shades some Power unseen O'erthrows all human greatness ! treads to dust Bods, ensigns, crowns — ^the proudest pomps of state. And laughs at all the mockery of man !

When, too, the total earth beneath us quakes, 1265

And tottering towns loud tumble, or so threat, What wonder men their littleness should feel, And to the gods all power and might ^Qtv\>^,

446 LUCEETIUS. BCXMi: T.

Whenoe rale they, ceaseless, this stopendons ^^orid ?

This clear discussed, learn next that silver, gold, 1270 Lead, hardier copper, iron, first were traced When, o'er the hills, some conflagration dire Burned from its basis the deep-rooted grove ; By lightnings haplj kindled, or the craft Of hosts contending o'er the woodland scenes, 1275

A double fear thus striking through their foes : Or by the shepherd's wish his bounds t* enlarge O'er tracts of specious promise ; or, perchance. Wild beasts to slaughter, and their spoils possess ; For such, with fire, and guileful pit, mankind 1280

First caught, ere hounds were marshalled to the chace, Or round the copse the mazy net-work drawn. —

Whate'er the cause, when now the unctuous flame Had from their utmost roots, with hideous crash. Felled the tall trees, and, with its torrid heat, 1285

The soil deep-reddened, rills of liquid gold. Lead, silver, copper, through its fervid pores Glided amain, and every hollow filled. These when, condensed, long after men surveyed Glistening in earth, attracted by the glare, 1290

The splendid mass they dug ; and marked, surprised. Each formed alike, and, to the channeled bed Where late it lay, adapted most precise. Then instant deemed they, liquefied by flame. The power were theirs each various shape t' assume, 1295 Drawn dexterous out, of point or edge acute ; The power unrivalled theirs each tool to frame Art needs to fell the forest, and its trees Mould into planks or beams ; to cleave, or smooth, Pierce, hollow, scoop, whate'er the plan conceived. 1300

Nor strove they less such instruments t' obtain From gold, or silver, than stern copper's strength. Yet vainly : for their softer texture failed. Powerless to bear the sturdy toil required. Whence copper chief they courted, while all gold 1305

Neglected lay, too blunt and dull for use. Now triumphs gold, while copper sinks despised. So rolling years the seasons change of things : What once was valued loses all its worth,

BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 447

And what was worthless rises in its stead, 1310

Swells into notice daily, every hour

Blooms with new praise, and captive leads the world.

And hence how first the vigorous iron charmed. Thyself, 0 Memmius, may'st with ease deduce.

Man's earliest arms were fingers, teeth, and nails, 1315 And stones, and fragments from the branching woods. Then fires and flames they joined, detected soon ; Then copper next ; and last, as latest traced. The tjrrant iron, than the copper vein Less freely found, and sturdier to subdue. 1320

Hence first with copper ploughed they ; in the waves Mixed of wild warfare, dealt its deadly wounds. And ransacked fields, and cattle ; for th' unarmed Soon yielded all things to the armed foe. But, by degrees, the blade of iron gleamed, 1325

Triumphant rising o'er the copper tool. With iron sole the genial soil they clove. And with its fury tried the doubtful fray.

First, too, on horse-back strove the martial chief. The reins his left hand guiding, and his right 1330

Ruling the battle : then appeared he next Drawn by twin steeds in warlike car sublime, Both hands in action, by the driver sped. Then twins to twins he joined, and to the car Fixed the curved scythe. And next the Ttrian tribes Taught the huge elephant^ with fortress loins 1336

And lithe proboscis, to delight in wounds, And break the hostile squadrons. Step by step So Discord poured her plagues accurst o'er man. And heightened daily all the woes of war. 1340

Some too, as story tells, wild bulls and boars Trained to the strife, and taught to fkce the foe. While the rude Farthians marshalled, mid their ranks. Troops of fierce lions, by their keepers led, To chain or loose them as the combat called. 1345

Yet vain th' attempt ; for, maddened by the blood Promiscuous spilt, o'er friends and foes alike Rushed they voracious, shaking their dread crests ; Nor could the horseman his affiighted steed Calm, or goad on the battle to renew. 1350

448 LUCRBTIUS. J900K Y.

Wide sprang the forest-tyrants, all in front Instant o'erpowering ; and, full oft, behind Tumbling abrupt, the backward crowds, aghast. Fixed they to earth, vain-grappling, — by their paws And teeth terrific torn alike to death. 13^

Then, too, the boars, high tossed th' infuriate bulls. Or crushed them with their hoofs ; or through the steeds Drove doep their gory horns, i^palled and faint, Or 'gainst the ground their frantic foreheads dashed. While the mad boars against their owners aimed 1860

' Their tusks remorseless, tinging with their blood Th' unbroken darts, (the broken thefy themselves Tinged with their own blood, trailing o'er the ground,) In one joint tumult slaughtering man and hcHrse. And though the steed strove oft by sudden start, 1365

Sidelong, to fiy the fang, or pranced erect Beating th' unsolid air, 'twas idle all. Since, rent through many a tendon, down he sunk. Shaking the champaign. Thus the beasts they deemed At home tamed amply, mid the battle's rage, 1370

Its wounds, its shrieks, its terrors, and its toils, Frantic once more surveyed they, void of rule. All, rampant, raved alike, as frequent now Raves the young elephant to arms unused. Trampling his keepers with tremendous crush. 1375

Thus men, perchance, have fought ; or, rather, thus Their fights have planned in secret, pausing deep O'er the dread ills such schemes were sure t' unfold. Whence, if such wars have raged, 'tis safer far. Amid the various worlds through space that throng, 1380 To leave their seat uncertain, than towards earth Specific point, or aught of world besides. Yet must they, doubtless, have been waged from hope Far less of conquest than revenge, each host Unarmed, unmarshalled, and of death assured. 1385

The rude-stitched hide preceded the wove vest, Planned after iron, and with ii:on wrought : For without this the loom had ne'er been framed. Its shuttles, treadles, sley, and creaking beam.

Yet men first used the distaff, and the wheel, 1390

Ere learned the female race ; since males throughout

BOOK V. ON THE NATUBS OF THINGS. 449

Prove prompter far, more dexterous, and expert ;

Till the rough swain, at length, such labours mocked

As sole the woman's province, sterner toils

The man's rude strength demanding, hardier arts 1395

His form to harden, nerved with double force.

But Nature's self th' untutored race first taught To sow, to graft 5 for acorns ripe they saw. And purple berries, shattered from the trees, Soon yield a lineage like the trees themselves. 1400

Whence learned they, curious, through the stem mature To thrust the tender slip, and o'er the soil Plant the fresh shoots that first disordered sprang.

Then, too, new cultures tried they, and, with joy. Marked the boon earth, by ceaseless care caressed, 1405 Each barbarous fruitage sweeten and subdue. So loftier still and loftier up the hills Drove they the woodlands daily, broadening thus The cultured foreground, that the sight might trace Meads, corn-fields, rivers, lakes, and vineyards gay, 1410 O'er hills and mountains thrown ; while through the dales, The downs, the slopes, ran lavish and distinct The purple realm of olives ; as with hues Distinct, though various still the landscape swells Where blooms the dulcet apple, mid the tufts 1415

Of trees diverse that blend their joyous shades.

And from the liquid warblings of the birds Learned they their first rude notes, ere music yet To the rapt ear had tuned the measured verse ; And Zephtk, whispering through the hollow reeds, 1420 Taught the fir^t swains the hollow reeds to sound : Whence woke they soon those tender-trembling tones Which the sweet pipe, when by the fingers prest, Pours o'er the hills, the vales, and woodlands wild, ELaunts of lone shepherds, and the rural gods. 1425

So growing time points, ceaseless, something new. And human skill evolves it into day.

Thus soothed they every care, with music, thus. Closed every meal, for rests the bosom then. And oft they threw them on the velvet grass, 1430

Near gliding streams, by shadowy trees o'er-arched, And void of costly wealth found still the means

2 Q

4iS0 UrCBBlIElL BOOK T.

To gladdea life. Bm

Ltd forth her hwghing

Painted the meads widi roseate flopwera firfbir — 143»

Ttum mirthy and wit, and wilea, and

Flowed from the heart ; for tiien tiie

Warmest inspired them : then

Taught round their heads, their ahoehierg^

Foliage, and flowers, and garlands richiy- diglit ; 1440

To loose, innumerous time thdr limhs to

And licat, with sturdy foot, maternal earth ;

While many a smile, and many a lai^liler

Told all was new, and wondrcHis moch

Thus wakeful lived they, cheating of its rest 1445

Tho drowsy midnight ; with the jocund dance

Mixing gay converse, madrigals, and strains

Run o^r the reeds with hroad recnmhent Hp :

Am, wakeful still, our revellers through night

Load on their defter dance to time precise ; 1450

Vet cull not costlier sweets, with all their art,

Tiittu the rude offspring earth in woodlands hore.

Thus what first strikes us, while ourselves as yet Know nought superior, every charm combines. Hut when aught else of ampler boast succeeds 1455

W(j slight tho former, every wish transferred. ThuN acorns soon disgusted ; the coarse couch < )i' herbs and leaves was banished, and the hides ( H' savage boasts deemed barbarous, and uncouth. Yot the vaHt envy such these first inspired 1460

'I'lioir earliest wearer by the faithless crowd Fell, and the garb, ferocious fought for still. Rent into tatters, perished void of use.

Then man for skins contended : purple now And gold for ever plunge him into war ; 1465

Far slenderer pretext ! for, such skins without, Tho nuked throngs had dreaded every blast : Hut us no ills can menace, though deprived ( )i' purple woof brocaded stiff with gold. While humbler vests still proffer their defence. 1470

V(it vainly, vainly toil earth's restless tribes. With fruitless cares corroding every hour ; Untaught the lust of wishing where to bound,

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 451

And where true pleasure ceases ; rendering time

One joyless main, where sail they, void of helm, 1475

Courting for ever tumults, storms, and strife.

But, through the heavens, the wakeful sun and moon Driving, meanwhile, their radiant cars sublime. Taught first to mortals how the seasons rolled. And things rose punctual ruled by punctual laws. 1480

Now many a fort they reared, and into shares Severed the cultured earth ; the daring bark O'er ocean now its light-winged canvass spread. And state with state in social compact joined: While rising bards, the types of sound just traced, 1485 Stamped each exploit, and told to times unborn. Whence nought of earlier date, as facts precise, Kjiow we, alone by reason led to guess.

Thus navigation, agriculture, arms, Laws, buildings, high-ways, drapery, all esteemed 1490 Useful to life, or to the bosom dear. Song, painting, sculpture — their perpetual need. And long experience fashioned and refined.

So growing time points ceaseless something new, And human skill evolves it into day : 1495

And art, harmonious, ever aiding art, All reach, at length, perfection's topmost point.

BOOK VI.

Athens, of peerless name, to savage man

First taught the blessings of the cultured field.

His life re-modelled, and with laws secured.

She, too, the soul's sweet solaces first oped

When erst the sage she reared, whose boundless breast 5

Swelled with all science, and whose lips promulged ;

Raised, such th' applause his heavenly dictates drew.

Raised after death, in glory to the skies.

For when he saw with what vast ease mankind

Food, health, enjoyment, length of days obtained, 10

2 o 2

452 LUCBETIUS. - BOOK VI.

How wealth full oft o'erflowed them with its tide,

How honours thronged on honours, and a race

With every virtue gifted, round them rose.

While still their hearts beat anxious, and their minds

Raged with complaints, vexations, and alarms,—-^ \5

Then deemed the sage the mental vase itself

Unsound throughout ; despoiling, hence, the power

Of all that entered, useful cfr beloved ;

Fractured, perchance, or porous, and each boon

Wasting profuse the moment it arrived ; 20

Or, from innate corruption, all received

Poisoning perpetual through its total frame.

With truth-instilling precepts, hence, the soul Purged he, the bounds of wishing and of fear Pointed precise, and showed to mortal man 25

The good supreme his heart would fain possess. He oped its essence, he the path disclosed, Narrow, but straight, that leads us where it dwells. He, too, evinced what ills on life must wait ; What casual spring, from nature what uprise, 30

At random roaming, or by fate compelled. And how such ills the soul may best resist ; Nor sink, as frequent sinks the world, ingulfed In boundless tides of turbulence and care. For as the boy, when midnight veils the skies, 35

Trembles and starts at all things, so full oft E*en in the noon men start at things as void Of real danger as the phantoms false By darkness conjured and the school-boy's dread. A terror this the radiant darts of day 40

Can ne'er disperse, to Truth's pure light alone And Wisdom yielding, intellectual suns. Whence, with more haste, our subject we resume.

Since this vast globe, then, mortal we have proved Begot, and mortal ether, and that all 45

Beared punctual from their atoms must dissolve, Mark what remains, attentive ; since once more The master of the gale invites to mount The daring bark majestic, and each storm Soothes with his fostering favour as we sail. 50

This mark attentive : for whate'er in heaven.

BOOK VL ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 453

In earth man sees mysterious, shakes his mind,

With sacred awe o'erwheUns him, and his soul

Bows to the dust ; the cause of things concealed

Once from his vision, instant to the gods 55

All empire he transfers, all rule supreme,

And doubtful whence they spring, with headlong haste

Calls them the workmanship of powers divine.

For he who, justly, deems th* immortals live

Safe, and at ease, yet fluctuates in his mind 60

How things are swayed ; how, chiefly, those discerned

In heaven sublime, — ^to superstition back

Lapses, and rears a tyrant host, and then

Conceives, duU reasoner, they can aU things do.

While yet himself nor knows what may be done, 65

Nor what may never, nature powers defined

Stamping on all, and bounds that none can pass :

Hence wide, and wider errs he as he walks.

These notions if thou chase not, driving far Thoughts of the gods unworthy, and adverse 70

To the pure peace they covet, thou wilt oft Foretaste the heavenly vengeance that thou dread'st. Not that the majesty of powers like these Rage e'er can violate, or dire revenge Bouse into action ; but that thou thyself 75

Hence thy own ease wilt shipwreck with the storms Of passions fierce and foul ; nor e'er approach With hallowed heart the temples they possess. Nor, deeply musing, mark with soul serene The sacred semblances their forms emit, 80

Traced by the spirit, thus of gods assured. Judge, then, thyself what life must hence ensue.

Such life the wisdom we propound rejects : Whence, though already much the muse has sung. Much still remains that claims her noblest powers ; 85 Much of the heavens, and scenes that roU sublime, Of storms, and thunders — what their dread effect, And how produced : lest, mid the rending skies. Fear-struck, thou ask whence flows this winged fire? Where speeds its fury ? by what means empowered 90 To pierce through walls, and then triumphant die ? And, doubtful whence it springs, with headlong ha&iA

454 LUCHETIUS. BOOK YL

Deem it the workmanship of hands divine.

Muse, most expert ! beloved of gods and inen. Calliope ! O, aid me as I tread 95

Now the last limits of the path prescribed. That the bright crown wil^ plaudits I may claim.

First the blue cope of heaven vrith thunder shakes When, borne through ether, clouds with clouds contend By winds adversely driven ; for nought of sound 100

Strikes us where pure the concave ; but where thick Clouds heaped o'er clouds, there, measured by their mass, The deep-toned peal with broadening bellow roars.

Then less compact their texture than the frame Of wood or stone, while less diffused by far 105

Than the loose web of mists, or light- winged smoke. For else, like those, plumb downward must they rush With flight abrupt, or swifl as these dissolve, Powerless to buoy the measured hail or snow.

Then, too, resound they through the sapphire vault, 110 As ofb resound the flickering curtains drawn O'er the thronged theatre from beam to beam. And oft to fragments frittered by the blast, Like crackling scrolls they rattle through the skies : Whence peals the thunder, as the fluttering sheet 1 15

Of parchment crisp, or canvass broad unfurled, Lashed by the tempest, and to tatters torn.

And frequent the flerce clouds with front direct Fight not, but jostle side-long, with the strife Their total tracts abrading ; whence the harsh, 120

The long-drawn murmur that the soul appals Ere yet the full-mouthed clangour burst its bounds.

Then things with thunder oft, perchance, may quake, And heaven's high walls be shattered through their cope. When air elastic, by capacious clouds 125

Absorbed redundant, once ferments abrupt. Broadening their central hollows as it spreads, And close their sides condensing, till, at lengthy Rends the pent power its prison, and aloft Roars o'er the world the repercussive shock. 130

Nor wondrous this, since, flUed with vapour, e'en The bursting bladder loud alike resounds.

Oft, too, perchance, the bickering blast itself,

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 455

Borne 'gainst the clouds direct, the crash creates :

For ragged oft in various shapes they fly, 135

Bamous and wavy, hence sonorous too ;

As when the north-east whistles through the groves

The leaves aU rustle, and the branches crack :

Or, haply else, the horizontal gust,

Urged on abrupt, may rend the cloud in twain. 140

For what its force here oft on earth we learn.

On earth where gentler, but where still its rage

Boots up the forest headlong from its base.

Worked into billows, too, the clouds, at times. Conflicting murmur as the torrent tide 145

Of streams or ocean by the tempest tost.

Oft springs the roar, too, when from cloud to doud Darts the blue lightning sudden : these, if filled With limpid vapour, instant the fierce flash Quench with vast clamour, as the red-hot steel 150

Fresh from the forge wide hisses when the smith Deep drowns its fury in the gelid pool.

But if the cloud be sear, with blaze abrupt Flames it sonorous ; as, when blown by storms^ Fires the loose brand the laurel-crested hiUs, 155

Decrepitating loud, for louder nought In conflagration crackles than the tree Sacred to Phcebus on the Delphio mount.

While not unfrequent may the din resound From ice or hail-clouds, by the whizzing wind 160

Lashed till they fracture, and, with clattering crash, FaUs the dread avalanche, down dashed amain.

But the blue lightning springs from seeds of fire With seeds conflicting mid the war of clouds. As when the flint with flint, or steel, contends, 165

Swift flows the flash, and sparkles all around.

Then earlier see we, too, the rushing blaze Than hear the roar, since far the fluent films Of sight move speedier than of laggard sound. As, when the woodman fells some branch remote, 170

It drops conspicuous ere the bounding blow Strike on the ear — so the keen lightning far Anticipates the thunder, though alike Beared from one cause, from one concussion reared.

456 LUCRBItUS. BOOK 71.

Or haply hence the winged lustre springs 175

Trembling amid the tempest ; that when air. Pent in the hollow of a cloud, ferments, That hollow broadening, as already sung, And close its sides condensing, the pent air Heats from its motion ; as, from motion, heats 180

All sight surreys ; worked oft to flame, and oft Melted, as melt the missile balls, at times. Of lead shot rapid. Heated thus, at length, Th' expanded air bursts sudden from its tomb. Scattering long trails of corruscating fire. 186

Then rolls the dread explosion, after heard. Since sound than light far tardier meets the sense. Tet scenes like these in clouds alone exist Of utmost depth, whirled mass o'er mass immense.

Nor such conceive exist not, but that sole 190

Breadth they possess, of substance ever void. For mark what clouds of mountain-bulk the winds Drive thwart the welkin when the tempests rave ; Or climb the giddy cliff, and, e'en in calms^ View what vast loads, accumulated deep, 195

Roll, tire o'er tire, through ether ; and thou, then. Must own their magnitudes, and well may'st deem What caves stupendous through such hanging rocks Spread ; what wild winds possess them, through the storm Roaring amid their bondage, as, at night, 200

Roar through their dens, the savage beasts of prey. How strive they stem, now here, now there convolved, Through every point, for freedom, and the seeds Of latent fire elicit as they roll

Till the full fiame concentrate, and the blaze 205

Shoot o'er the heavens as now the big cloud bursts.

Hence, too, perchance, the golden-tressed stream Of liquid fire through ether oft may play : That the pure texture of the cloud itself Holds many an igneous atom whence, when dry, 210

Springs the bright flame, the splendid hues evinced. For from the sun such seeds the clouds must drink. Poured down perpetual, or their rainbow skirts No lustre e'er could redden. These when once To narrower spheres the lashing winds compress^ 215

BOOK yi. ON THE NATUKE OF THINGS. • 457

Forth from theit pores the radiant atoms start, And wave the serpent-brandish through the skies.

Thus springs the flash, too, when the fibnj clouds Abrade beneath the whirlwind : for, so thin Wears oft their web by friction, the red seeds 220

Drop, unconfined, wide-glittering. But the blaze Then noiseless spreads, innocuous, and serene.

What next ensues, the substance what that forms The bolt, at times, the mystic meteor shoots. This its own stroke betrays, its caustic scathe, 225

And the foul scent of sulphur steaming round ; Marks not of wind, or shower, but fire alone : While, oft, the volant mischief we behold Domes, towers, and temples kindling into fiame.

This igneous shaft, then. Nature rears, recluse, 230

From subtlest fires, from atoms most minute. Vivacious most, that nought can e'er resist. For e'en through walls it pierces, as the power Of voice or sound, through rocks and soHd brass ; The solid brass hence, instant, turned to stream. 235

While oft the vase it empties of its wine. Yet leaves uninjured ; loosening all around, And wide each pore relaxing, that within May wind its heat mysterious, and to seeds Primal, resolve and scatter all contained. 240

Effect the solar lustre in an age Could ne'er accomplish — 'SO superior this In force severe, and keen vivacious flight.

Next whence these fires are gendered, and the power Peerless they boast e'en ramparts to subvert, 245

Whole towns to tumble, and their splintered beams Whirl through the heavens, — the hero's tomb dispart, Shattered to dust, and prostrate o'er the ground Sheep, and the shepherd, breathless all aHke — Whence these, and equal wonders they achieve 250

Haste we to solve, nor longer urge delay.

From dense, dark clouds reared mass o'er mass sublime. Spring, then, these missile fires : for when the cope Smiles all serene, or but o'ershadowed light. Such ne'er we mark ; since daily ether first 255

Blackens throughout, beneath the clustering cro^rd.

458 LUCBBTIUS. BOOK VI.

So blackens fancy might conceive all hell

Had, with his direst shades, the welkin stormed.

Shivering with horror every human nerve,

Ere yet the tempest forge lus glittering bolts. 260

Oft, too, o'er ocean, like a flood of pitch. Some negro cloud prone rushes from the skies, Dire leader of the darkness, followed close By hurricanes and thunders, and itself With fire surcharged, and fierce fermenting'air, 265

Driving appalled each mortal to his home. Whence high through ether must the tempest reach, Piled cloud o'er cloud, the sun obstructing deep. Or ne'er such ten-fold darkness could be reared. Nor rush those headlong torrents that o'erpower 270

Oft every stream, and drown the cultured plains.

These all with fires, with furious airs are filled. Whence spring the flash, and repercussive roar. For, as we erst have sung, fuU many a seed Igneous, the hollow-bosomed clouds contain, 275

Aiid many alike absorb they from the sun. These, when th' aerial tide, expanding still. Has from the cloud's condensing frame exprest, And with their fury its own rage combined. Then springs the fiery vortex, and within 280

Forges profound, and points its deadly darts. Doubly enkindled, by the boisterous air Rapid convolved, and touch of fiery seeds : Then springs, and raves, and ripens, till, at length. Grown full mature the shackling cloud it cleaves, 285

And down abrupt, with vibratory flash Diflused o'er all things, flings the missile fate. Roars next the deep-toned clangour, as though heaven Through all its walls were shattered ; earth below Shakes with the mighty shock, from cloud to cloud 290 Redoubling still through all th' infuriate vault : While, loosened by the conflict, prone descends Th' accumulated torrent, broad and deep, As though all ether into floods were turned. And a new deluge menaced man and beast. 2d5

Such the vast uproar when the red-hot storm Bursts forth abrupt, and hurls its fiery bolts.

BOOK VT. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 459

Oft, too, th' external whirlwind, as it flies, Against the cloud strikes sudden, that within Holds the ripe tempest, and its form divides. 300

And, hence released, the fiery vortex quick. The vivid bolt, descends, now here, now there, In varying path, apportioned to its strength.

And oft the gas projected, though at first Void of combustion, in its course inflames, 305

Itapid and long ; forsaking, as it flies. Its grosser atoms impotent of speed. And, from th' abraded air, those more minute Collecting, prompt th' incipient blaze to rouse. As when, swift- winged, the ball of missile lead 310

Heats, by degrees its gross unkindling parts Losing, and fires by atoms gained from air.

Nor seldom may the stroke itself excite The dread combustion, as with fury flies. Void of all flash, the fulminating bolt. 315

For, from itself, the shock may seeds alike Igneous elicit, and the substance struck, — Instant combined ; as, when with steel we ply The sparry flint, the spark immediate springs. Nor luQgers sluggish from the steel's cold touch. 320

So by the bolt each substance struck must flame. Inflammable if gendered ; nor, though cold Its elemental air, can hence delay Once rise, since urged so rapid in its flight ; Flight that, if powerless of itself to fire, 325

Alone, must warm the mischief in its fall.

So speeds th' aerial shaft, its wing so fleet, So fierce its fell encounter ; mid the clouds So vnde its infant forces it collects.

And strives, impatient of restraint, t' escape ! 330

Till, grown mature, the'fuU-distended cloud Bursts instantaneous, and, with matchless might. Rushes the rampant meteor, as the storm Of rocks and darts, from giant-engines hurled.

Then too most light, most subtle are its seeds : 335

Whence nought can e'er resist it, and, with ease, Winds it, unchecked, through pores minutest traced. Void of delay, and peerless in its speed.

460 LUCBETIUS. BOOK YL

All, too, of weight possessed, below must tend E'en from their nature : but when once to -weight 340

Its power propulsion adds, the substance urged In force, in fleetness doubled must descend. Direct in travel, and more potent far Borne towards the spot that feels its final brunt.

Where long the flight, moreo'er, the substance winged Augments in haste, and swift, and swifter still 346

Flows ever on, and sturdier strikes its blow : For seed with seed condenses as they rush. Pressed to one central focus, till, at length. Falls with full force th' agglomerated shock : 3o0

Joined too, perchance, by atoms drawn firom air Whose ceaseless lash gave pinions to its speed.

Then many a frame the missile bolt pervades^ And leaves unhurt, its pores the liquid fire Transpiercing unresisted ; while, reversed, 355

Full many a frame it shatters, since the seeds Igneous vnth those th' objective mark that rear, AjDd stamp it solid, in close conflict meet.

Thus brass with ease, thus, instantaneous, gold Melt its light seeds, its principles minute 360

Deep-winding sinuous, and, when wound, at once Bursting each bond, and solving the stern mass.

But chief in autumn, and when spring expands Her flowery carpet, earth vnth thunder shakes. And heaven's high arch with trembling stars inlaid. 365 For few the fires that warm the wintry months. And soft the gales of summer, nor so dense Throng then the gathering clouds ; but, 'twixt the two When roll the zodiac-lustres, every cause Concentrates close the clamorous storm demands ; 370

The frith of time then reached that heat and cold Blends, whose joint power alone the flash creates. The reign of discord, and the rage of air Tumultuous torn 'twixt winds and rival fires. For heat's first rise and cold's ulterior verge 375

Rear the young spring ; whence things with things diverse Must meet, and, meeting, into wrath ferment : While cold's first chills, and heat's last lingering beams. Mutual convolved, create th' autumnal times,

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 461

Still summer striving with stern winter's rage. 380

Whence spring, whence autumn claim alike the term

Of Warrior- Seasons, thus to fight attached.

Nor wondrous, then, that thunders here should rise,

And storms defile the concave, by the war

Doubtful, disturbed, of whirlwind, rain, and fire. 385

Hence ma/st thou clear the thunder's essence trace, And its vast force develope ; from thy hands Hurling the Tuscan legends that pretend Vainly each purpose of the gods t' unfold, And thus decide whence fiows this winged fire ; 390

Where speeds its fury ; by what means empowered To pierce through walls, and then, triumphant, die ; Or what portends its brandish when displayed.

For if from Jove, or Jove's associates, flow The roar tremendous, shattering heaven's high arch ; 395 If these, at will, the flaming bolt direct, — Why 'scapes the guilty from its vengeful stroke, Nor falls, transpierced, a monument to man ? Or, rather, why, beneath the fiery storm, Sinks he unconscious of committed crime, 400

Void of all blame, yet victim to its ire ?

Why seek the gods, too, solitary scenes And labour fruitless ? need they, then, essay Their wontless arms, and nerve them for the fight ? Why thus their sire's tremendous wrath exhaust 405

O'er the bare ground ? or why himself permit, Nor, for his foes, the fiery bolt restrain ?

Why waves the god, moreo'er, the serpent-flash. Why rolls the thunder ne'er in cloudless skies ? When throng the gathering clouds, adown the storm 410 Descends he first, that, from a nearer point, With surer aim, his javelin he may dait ? Yet why attack the ocean ? o'er the waves Waste his wild ire, the floods, and liquid fields ?

If, too, he mean mankind the bolt should miss, 415

Why form its structure viewless to the sight ? While, if he hope to strike us unprepared. Why fiash, conspicuous, and invite escape ? Why first fill heaven with groans and darkness dire ? — .

Then, canst thou deem lum competent at once 420

462 IXJUIEltOS. BOOK TL

Throogh TirioaB poinls to lliiiwfcf ? or tke imet

Dar^st tboa deoj that manj a itijtal hait

Falls at the Bsme dread mameot? while Hie

Ceafideas, such £m^ renews, and proves

That as die shower at oooe o'er maaj a soene 42d

Bushes amaiii, so darts th' ethereal dafL

And why, moreo'er, the temples of tiie gods^ Why his own altars, with the fieiy stcRm Fells he, promiscaoos? into atoms why Rends their best stataes ; and, with frantic aim, 490

E'en from himself his image-hcMioiirs wrest ? Or o'er the hills why horls he chief his ire. The rocks abmpt, and moostains most sablime ?

Hence, with mach ease, the meteor may we trace Termed, from its essence, Prester by the Grkkks, 435 That oft from heaven wide hovers o'er the deep. Like a vast column, gradual from the skies. Prone o'er the waves, descends it ; the vext tide Boiling amain beneath its mighty whirl. And with destruction sure the stoutest ship 440

Threatening that dares the boisterous scene approach. Thus solve th' appearance ; that the maniac wind. In cloud tempestuous pent, when unempowered To burst its bondage, oft the doud itself Stretches cylindric, like a spiral tube 445

From heaven forced gradual downwards to the deep ; As though some viewless hand, its frame transpierced. With outspread palm had thrust it from above. This, when, at length, the captived tempest rends. Forth flows it, fiery, o'er the main, and high 450

Boils from its base th' exaggerated tide. For, as the cone descends, from every point A dread tornado lashes it without, In gyre perpetual, through its total fall : Till, ocean gained, the congregated storm 455

Gives its full fury to th' uplifted vaves, Tortured, and torn, loud howling nudst the fray.

Oft, too, the whirlwind from the clouds around Fritters some fragments, and itself involves Deep in a cloudy pellicle, and close 460

Mimics the prester, lengthening slow from heaven ;

BOOK VI. ON THE NATT7RE OF THINGS. 463

Till, earth attained, th' involving web abrupt

Bursts, and the wbirlwind vomits and the storm.

Yet, as on earth the mountains' pointed tops

Break oft the texture, tubes like these, at land 465

Far rarer form than o'er the marble main.

The rise of clouds next calls us. When in heaven Meet various bodies subtile and sublimed, Of jagged figure, instant they cohere; Not strong the junction, but cohesive still. 470

Thus spring the lighter clouds ; and these conjoined, Comprest, condensed, and congregated close, Urged by the winds, to boundless bulk augment. Till broad o'er ether frowns the finished storm.

Chief o'er the mountain-tops, as nearest heaven, 475 In tide perpetual smoke the yellow steams That clouds engender, here conspicuous first. For, undiscemed at birth, the winnowing wind Here in huge masses, palpable to view. Dense, and redundant, drives them, whence aloft 480

Mount they embodied from the humid height. For fact itself demonstrates, as we climb The tall, steep cliff, that breezy scenes like these Ope the best path for vapours to the skies.

Then from the seas that nature much selects 485

Prove the light garments fluttering o'er the strand That catch the rising moisture ; doubtless whence Much, too, the clouds from ocean's restless brine Draw ceaseless forth, their airy base to build : For, as the blood, so fluids all transpire. 490

Thus from each river, e'en from earth itself, We trace th' ascending moisture, and the mist. Like vital breath, borne upwards : which, when once Firmly condensed, and congregated close, Veil cdl the heavens with clouds, and darkness deep ; 495 While tides of rushing ether closer still Drive the light woof, and weave a thicker shade.

¥hen, too, perchance, the primal seeds of things. Borne from without, the mingled mass may join. And swell the cloudy drapery. These how wide 500

Diflused through space, how countless their amount. With what vast speed, what instantaneous flight

464 LUCRETIUS. BOOK YI.

O'erpower they every distance, we erewhile

At large developed. Nought of wonder, then.

That storms, and blackness, gendered e'en above, 505

Should oft abrupt o'er mountains, plains, and seas

Of amplest breadth, their dreary mantle stretch ;

Since through aU ether's nice, innumerous pores.

O'er the wide world like spiracles bespread,

The thronging atoms enter and retire. 510

Come, now, and next, how rain in clouds sublime Forms, and o'er earth in genial showers descends. Attentive, learn. And, first, the muse shall show That seeds at once of clouds and water rise From all created, whence alike augment 515

Water and cloud, and all that cloud contains, As with its frame augments the vital blood, Or aught besides of moisture through the limbs. Then, too, the cloudy fioscules, as they fly . O'er the broad main, the briny dew imbibe, 520

As pendant fleeces from the new-shorn flock. While from each stream, alike, their spongy webs Drink the light moisture ; which, when once comprest. Atom with atom, in innumerous modes, Innumerous masses, the redundant clouds, 525

Prest by the winds, strive doubly to discharge : For, while such pressure bursts them, their own weight, Cloud thronged o'er cloud, compels the falling shower.

Then, too^ abraded by the winnowing winds. Or by the sun relaxed, the cloudy film 530

Pours down its moisture, as the strainer thick Of woof redoubled, near the solvent fire, Drops o'er the vase its juices clear-refined. But fierce the torrent falls when fierce at once Clouds press o'er clouds, -and winds with winds contend. 535

And much the rain persists, and long its stay, When countless crowd th' irriguous seeds above. Profuse the louring vapours, and the clouds Roll multitudinous, of bound devoid. And all the smoking earth the wet rehales. 540

And when the sun, amid the rushing shower, Gleams from a point all adverse to the storm, The crystal moisture, as it falls, his rays

BOOK VI. ON THE NATUBE OP THINGS. 465

Ceaseless reflects, and rears the gaudy bow.

Thas all, through heaven, that forms or floats sublime, Or in the clouds concretes, wind, hail, and snows, 546

And hoary pearl, and frost's stupendous power. Stem hardener of {he waters, the restraint That chains the rivers panting to be free. These all the mind may hence, with ease, unfold ; 550

Their rise develope, why created solve, Taught by the seeds that form their various frames.

Next learn the cause why earth's Arm frame, at times, Quakes wide around. And, first, conceive her shaped Below as upwards ; filled with roaring winds, 555

Fissures, and caverns, crags, and pools profound. And fractured rocks, through all her bosom spread : While, mid her hollows, boundless rivers roll, Wave after wave, and hide their secret heads : For fact itself proves earth throughout the same. 560

These truths premised, earth trembles, then, profound, Shook into ruins, when the rage of time, Deep down the caves immensely scooped below, Tumbles th' incumbent hills ; abrupt they fall With vast concussion, while, from scene to scene, 565

Winds the dread tremour, propagated quick : And well may wind ; since e'en the sluggish wain, Though filled but half, as o'er the street it rolls, Shakes every mansion ; since, alike disturbed. Quake they when, near, the light aerial car 570

Drawn by fleet coursers whirls its rattling wheels.

Earth trembles, too, when, undermined by age, Wide into lakes of boundless breadth beneath Th' incumbent glebe sinks sudden, her vast shell By the deep dash far staggered, as the bowl 575

Reels, filled with fluid, when its fluid rocks.

And when the winds, that oft her hollows crowd. Rush all collected, with fermenting force. Towards one vext quarter, — ^where the fight prevails Earth nods o'erpowered ; each building reared above 580 Totters throughout, while those of loftier height Dread instant ruin, their connecting beams Disjointed, torn, and tumbling from their posts. And shrink mankind, then, from the creed t\vaX ^wwi

2 H

466 LUCRETIUS. BOOK VL

Some ruthless conflict the wide world itself 585

Shall crush with wreck unbounded — ^while they see Earth shook so largely through her inmost mass ? E'en now, should ne'er such winds their rage relax, Their boisterous ferment, nought of power opposed Could stem th' assault, and instant fate must flow. 590 But as, by turns, these labour, and forbear, Now firm advance, and now, exhausted, fly. Earth ofter far is menaced than destroyed. For, from her centre thrown, she straight returns. Confirms her balance, and her course resumes ; 595

While, mid the shock, each building reels ; the high Most, less the low, the lowliest least of all.

Hence, too, the mighty tremour : that when wind. Or air elastic, into tumult worked,

Upreared within, or entering from above, 600

Still towards one point of earth's vast caverns pours. Whirled in wild vortex, its enormous force At length bursts sudden — and the solid soil Fractures amain, with broad tremendous yawn. Such Syrian Sedon saw, and ^gium such, 605

Pride of More an plains. What earthquakes dire. What towns o'erthrown has this disruption sole Of frantic air engendered ! what vast walls Have tumbled from their base ! what peopled ports Deep down the main in common ruin sunk ! 610

E'en should th' elastic vapour the stern soil Cleave not abrupt, yet, issuing through its pores. Earth trembles still, with quivering horror shook, As shakes the frame, through every limb convulsed. When cold severe assaults us unprepared. 615

A twofold terror, then, mankind appals ; Above, the buildings menace, and, below. The shuddering ground threats instant into depths Boundless to sink, or ope its giant jaws And, in a moment, swallow fdl that lives. 620

E'en those who hold that heaven and earth exist Each incorrupt, and of eternal date. Touched by the present danger, then betray Strong latent dread lest earth forsake their feet, Down plunging headlong to th' abyss below ; 625

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 467

Lest nature fail, and, o'er the total world, Void of all bounds promiscuous ruin rush.

Next why the main o'erflows not let us solve. And, first, man wondrous deems it the hoarse fall Of mountain cataracts, the ceaseless press 630

Of streams innumerous from innumerous points. Year after year, its limits never swell. Yet add to these whatever from heaven descends In showers and tempests, scattered wide alike O'er earth and ocean, every fountain add, 635

And still the vast accumulated mass, Weighed with the deep, would scarce a drop exceed. Whence nought stupendous that it ne'er augments.

Next, daily, much the solar heat exhales. For as the sun o'er humid garments pours 640

His beams profuse, with instant haste they dry. But broad and spacious spreads the liquid main ; Whence, from each spot though small the lymph absorbed, Yet large th' amount its total surface yields.

Then, too, the flickering winds with ceaseless wing 645 Winnow an ample portion. Such their power Oft, in a night, the swampiest paths they cleanse. Brush off the wet, and harden all the mire.

And earlier have we taught that every cloud Imbibes, luxurious, the redundant dew 650

Raised from the face of ocean ; and o'er earth, Lashed by the breeze, in copious showers distils.

And as this mass terrene of frame consists Porous throughout, and with a thousand coasts Girds all the deep— since to the deep it sends, 655

In part, its fluids, doubtless so, alike. Part still retreats, and, percolated pure, Fresh bubbles distant at some fountain-head. Whence winds again the dulcet tide through paths Its liquid feet have printed oft before. 660

Now next explain we whence, from Etna's jaws. Bursts the bright storm of wild projectile fire ; Storm that, once kindled o'er Sicilia's plains, Raves with no common ruin, as around From many a realm the general eye it draws, 665

And strikes the general heart with dread severe,

2 H 2

468 LUCRETirSb book tl

Wondering, beneath the dingj-flariiig eope. What new adventure Nature means f mddeve.

Such facts f unfold thj mind most deem '"'^ wide, And long expatiate o'er their separate parts ; 670

Recall the doctrine that th' EimRE of Thdtgs Throughout is boundless ; and how small, reflect. One system sole when with th' Ehtirb oompoued With systems thronging ; systems so ccHn|riex That each to all weighs less than man to earth. 675

A creed once rooted that will raise thee oft O'er vulgar wonders, and each fact evolve.

Who strange conceives it that this mortal frame Should rage, at times, with fever, or aught else Of keen disease through all the body spread ? 680

That gout the foot should madden ? ache severe Torture the teeth, or wound the visual orb ? Or tliat the halbwed erysipelas O'er every limb should traU his serpent fires ? Here nought lurks wondrous : for from various seeds 685 Spring they, confest, in various modes combined ; While heaven and earth alone such seeds adverse Amply supply to rear the tyrant iU. — Doem, then, alike, that heaven and earth themselves Draw from the boundless whole the stores evinced 690 When, with wild horror, quakes the world abrupt ; 0*er earth and main when rushing whirlwinds sweep, Or heaven inflames with fires from -^tna thrown. For heaven thus blazes from the seeds of fire Countless collected, as the ponderous storm 695

Falls in full shower when aqueous atoms throng.

" But far too vast the sparkling deluge poured !" And vast alike to him the stream must flow. In earlier life who ne*er so vast has seen : And vast each tree, each sentient tribe, and all 700

Till now ne'er witnessed ; while each sight so vast, While heaven, earth, main, united ne'er augment The boundless compass of th' unbounded whole.

Explain we, then, from JEtna's forge immense How flows the fiery deluge when enraged. 705

And, first, the mighty mount is scooped throughout^ High arched with sparry columns : winds and airs

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 469

Fill all its caves, for agitated air

To wind converts, resistless in its might.

This, when once heated, and its torrid hreath 710

Has heated, too, the mingled mass around

Of rocks, and earths sulphureous, and a flood

Of frantic flame engendered — bursts abrupt,

And, through the mountain's monster-jaws, ejects

Towards every point its embers, and its blaze ; 715

Belches whole atmospheres of smoke, and high

Hurls from its base huge crags of weight immense.

To air incensed such wonders, all, resolve.

Then to the main, too, spreads th' enormous hill Its roots profound, the rough, rebellowing surge 720

Baffling at each encounter : for thus far Doubtless extend its glimmering halls, and hence Draws it, at times, fresh stores of maddening wind ; An ampler storm hence brewing, and its flames. Its focks, its sands projecting wider still : 725

While, at its top, the whirlwind craters throng, By us termed aptly its voracious jaws. Thus many a cause we bring ; for many a cause Oft it behoves us, though but one subsist. • As when, at distance, some dead corse thou view'st 730 Stretched o'er the ground, full many a cause thy mind Must state whence fell it ere it state the true. For whether poison triumph or disease. Cold, or the sword, it ne'er can prove remote ; Though of such deaths thou learn, from those informed, 735 One here prevail. — Thus judge of things at large.

The Nile now calls us, pride of Egypt's plains : Sole stream on earth its boundaries that o'erflows Punctual, and scatters plenty. When the year Now glows with perfect summer, leaps its tide 740

Broad o'er the champaign, for the north- wind now, Th' Etesian breeze, against its mouth direct Blows with perpetual winnow ; every surge Hence loiters slow, the total current swells. And wave o'er wave its loftiest bank surmounts. 745

For that the fixt monsoon that now prevails Flows from the cold stars of the northern pole None e'er can doubt ; while rolls the Nile adverse

470 LAUBKUL&. BOOK TL

Fcdl &iiin. t^ 3011^ firaBLiaiiiiiscif toKvidliest,

Bunts of die EiBiDP'-tEibeff; jet fiv bejcnd 750

TboL oeeon^ iuipLyr bj tii'' unfeiMWB bieeae Slawn w^ its rtiwiTip^ Ibewcs witib erexy wmTe Hngs of higfa. auxifey snd ^hbs its wonted course : Wbaice lUBxawezv ^3«v ^ cxk to tike main^ 755

AmiwicL le^fbcce ^e tscdjr^reiBi deaeencb.

^, towanis its jbmrtiia, mrngkBrniaa^ pendumo^ FilL as ch.'' Ktfsta^ fimsy now wide unfuried, ¥t^ die 1% dbods perpcftnai firaaa the north Far o^er the zed eqnsfeor; where, cQodenaedy 760

PDoderoa^ and kyw^ agabist the kiDs thej strike. And ^led their treaasres o'er the rising flood. Ov frooL the ExHrap-nfeounkaina^ tibe bnght son Xow foil matnred, with deep diaaolTii^ raj Mar m^ th' aggkanerate anows^ and down the fdains 765 DriTe them, augmenting hence^ tih' jncipiqit stream.'

Bat eooie^ di' Atbxsi be^on ; and the mose Their natorev next, their dqpdia^ their kd^es shall pierce.

And first, their name finom powo* adverse to birds Draw thej : for when the featheij people once 770

Tooch bot their c<Mifines, instant thej forget Their pinioned oars, their plom j sails relax. And down, plmnb down, profuse^ with floent neck Flange thej to earth, if earth their bottom form. Or into po^s, if pool the mystic d^yth. 775

Soch the dread gulf at Crxjs, bdching high Fames of hot solphar o'er the mountains round. Such, too, at Athsxs, deep within her walls, Steams firom the tower, Minebta's temple near ; Where never raven, e'en when victims smoke 780

O'er the red altar, shows his jetty plumes. Yet not restrained, as Grecian poets sing. By wrath of Pallas o'er the tell-tale spy Profusely lavished, but the place alone. Such place in Stbia, too, as fame reports, 785

The traveller traces, o'er whose dire domains The brute that treads drops instant, as though felled In prompt oblation to th' infernal powers.

These all subsist from Nature's general laws,

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 471

And whence their source their earliest rise unfolds ; 790

Lest we should judge them the first gates of hell,

And through such portals deem th' infernal gods

Draw the pale spirit to the shades below ;

As, with their breath, the foot-winged deer, 'tis said,

Draw fix)m the furze the spotted race of snakes ; 795

A creed how false our numbers now shall prove.

First we maintain, then, and have earlier oft Maintained the same, that Nature's primal seeds In shape wide vaiy, whence the frame of things Much holds nutritious, baneful much, and big 800

With certain fate ; while di£ferent foods, to kinds Di£ferent themselves, an ampler nurture yield, As reared with bond, with texture reared unlike. This have we erst decided. Sounds abhorred Wound the vext ear ; the shuddering nostrils drink 805 Oft atoms harsh and hateful to their smell ; Nor fewer far the bodies touch rejects ; Hostile to sight, or grievous to the taste.

Then, too, how frequent things with power adverse, Noxious to life, e'en man himself oppress. 810

Thus there are trees whose shade malignant strikes With instant head-ache all, in idle hour. Who loosely throw them on the grass beneath. While some, o'er Helicon, a blossom bear Of scent so deadly, few the smell survive. 815

These spring from earth ; for earth within her holds Innumerous seeds of things innumerous, joined In countless modes, and yields them as they blend.

The midnight taper, as its dying snu£f Pours o'er the nostrils, stupifies with sleep 820

Deep as, the brain, when apoplexy numbs. So stupid swoons the maid, too, who in hour Of full, o'erflowing nature, castor gross Scents, floating round ; and from her graceful hands Drops, loosely drops the polished work she plies. 825

But endless are the substances that, thus. Melt all the members, and the soul subvert If long thou loiter in the public bath. Or bathe at home o'erloaded with repast. Wilt thou not faint, unsinewed by the warmth ? 830

472 LUCBBTIUS. BOOK YL

Dies not each sense beneath the charcoal-fume If from the brook we drink not ere thej fail ? While the foul gas, that from fermenting must Springs, like a blow deep stuns us with its force.

Then breeds not earth, imbedded in herself 835

Bitumens, sulphurs, ever steaming forth In dews malignant ? from the mines profound Of gold, or silver, rise not such o'er those Who delve, unblest, amid their rigid veins ? What ills hence issue ! o'er the miner's limbs 840

What ghastly hues I what horrors o'er his face ! Hast thou not heard how soon existence fails. How languid life, mid wretches thus condemned ? — These vapours all earth genders in herself, And breathes through many an opening to the day. 845

Thus breathe th' Ayerni through their openings dire Fumes reared from earth, and fatal found to birds. Tainting far round the heavenly breeze that blows. Here, as the plumy people first approach. The fluent bane arrests them, and below 850

Deep plunges headlong down th' envenomed gulf. Where their last pulse soon fails through every limb. A wontless thrill, a giddiness of brain First feel they, falling, till, profounder sunk. Life flows amain, since more condensed th' assault. 855

Then, too, perchance th' Ayerni may, at times, With deadly blast the total air dissolve. Full nigh to vacuum, 'twixt the flutterer spread And earth beneath ; whence, once the spot attained. Vain prove his wings, each utmost eflbrt vain 860

To prop the parent body : robbed abrupt Of buoyant ether, powerless, and forlorn, Down, like a weight, he tumbles through the void, And from each pore his airy soul exhales.

In wells profound the gurgling Ijrmph that springs, 865 Springs chilliest in the summer : — for all earth Expands beneath the sun-beams, and emits The seeds of fire far prompter to the day : Whence more her surface burns with heat evolved, And colder flows the fountain deep-concealed. 870

While, mid the wintry frosts, her frame contracts,

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 473

Condenses closer, and, condensing, strains The fiery atoms into caves and wells.

A fount, 'tis rumoured, near the temple purls Of Jove Ammonian, tepid through the night, 875

And cold' at noon-day : and th' astounded sage Stares at the fact, and deems the punctual sun Strikes through the world's vast centre, as the shades Of midnight shroud us, and with ray reverse Maddens the well-spring :— creed absurd and false. 880 For if, full blazing o'er the naked tide. Poured from above in fierce meridian might. No heat he gender — how can his deep orb Flame through earth's solid substance, and the lymph Lash into fervour ? how — since e'en at noon 885

Scarce can his rage the cottage wall transpierce ?

Dost thou the cause demand, then ? clearly hence. That round the fountain earth more spongy spreads And seeds of fire throng ampler ; whence, when night Pours o'er the world his dew-distilling shades, 890

The chilled, contracting soil here strains abrupt^ As though comprest by fingers, towards the fount Such seeds profusely, and the bubbling wave Proves to the touch, the taste more tepid proves. But when, reversed, the sun with new-bom beam 895

Earth rarefies, and quickens, back profound - Fly the young fire-seeds to their native haunts, The fount forsaking ; whence the sparkling tide Tastes in the day more frigid than at night.

Then, too, the crystal fluid, by the sun 900

Thrilled, deep dilates beneath his trembling ray. And yields its embryo fires ; as, when congealed. Yields it alike its frost beneath the blaze, Melts all its ice, and every bondage bursts.

A fount there is, too, which, though cold itself, 905

With instant flare the casual flax inflames Thrown o'er its surface ; and the buoyant torch Kindles alike immediate, o'er its pool Steering the course th' ethereal breeze propels. Nor wondrous this ; for countless seeds of heat 910

Throng through the water, raised from earth profound. And thence, in turn, projected into air :

474 LUCRETIUS. BOOK TL

Tet ne'er so active as the wave to warm.

Some latent energy the seeds, moreo'er. Thus scattered, forces to the water's hrim 916

Sadden, and there concentrates ; as, at times^ Springs the fresh fount amid th' unbounded main, ^d db*ives the brine broad circling as it flows. Nor thus unfrequent to the thirsty crew Does bounteous nature ope the dulcet draught, 920

High-spouting freshness through the world of salt. So through the well-spring that the flax inflames Burst forth the lurking fire-seeds to the daj. Commingling with its fibres ; which achieyed. Or with the torch once blended, all is blaze ; 926

Themselves alike high-charged with latent fire.

When, just extinct, the taper we apply To one full blazing, seest thou not how soon, E'en ere it touch, th' extinguished snuff relumes ? Relumes not thus the torch, too ? and alike 930

Full many a substance, useless to recount, At distance kindled ere the fiame arrive ? So acts the fountain, such the cause concealed.

And next explain we by what curious law The stone termed magnet by the Greeks, attracts 936 Th' obsequious iron ; magnet termed since first Mid the Magnetes men its power descried.

Vast is the wonder, mid th* admiring crowd. This stone excites ; for oft a pendant chain Forms it of rings unlinked and loosely joined. 940

And frequent see they, sporting in the breeze, Such rings quintupled, in succession long. The lowHer cleaving to the sphere above, And this to that, proclaiming, as it hangs, Its deep-felt conscience of the magnet's power. 945

Such the resistless energy it boasts.

In facts like these fuU many a truth profound First must we prove, ere yet their power thou trace. And many a maze unravel ; — thou with heed List, then, for now thy closest ear we claim. 950

And, first, from all things bodies most minute Flow forth for ever, scattered, and diffused. Wounding the pupil, and compelling sight.

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 475

From forms defined spring odours ; from the sun

Thus heat exhales ; cold, dewy damp from streams, 955

And the rough spray from ocean, with fierce fang

Gnawing the mound that dares resist its waves.

Thus sounds, too, flutter through the breezy air ;

And when the beach we traverse, oft the tongue

Smarts with the briny vapour ; or, at hand, 960

If the bruised wormwood yield its acrid juice,

We taste th' essential bitter and abhor.

Thus some light effluence streams from all create,

Streams forth for ever, void of dull repose.

Towards every point difiused ; for man perceives, 965

Where'er his station ; sight alike exists,

The sense of fluent odours, and of sounds.

This thus premised, recall we next to mind How rare the frame of all things, as erewhile Conspicuous proved we in our earliest strain. 970

A theme, though ever useful, useful most Found, when compelled, as now, to re-affirm That nought exists but matter mixt with void.

For, first, the roofs of rocky caverns sweat With dews, and crystals ; and the frame of man 975

Throws through each pore the perspirable lymph. Beard through the visage permeates, through each limb Peeps the young down, and every meal imbibe.d Flows through the veins profuse, and feeds, augments. And quickens all things e'en to th' utmost nails. 980

Cold the tense brass, and heat alike transpierce : So pierce they gold, and silver, as the vase Proves, filled with fluids by the fingers clasped. Through the stone wall voice winds its sinuous way. And frosts, and odours, and the power of heat : 985

Heat that pervades e'en steel, and through the helm Rushes, where rests it round the fretted neck. So rushes, too, contagion from without Deep through each quivering organ. The red storm In heaven engendered pierces earth profound ; 990

Or, if in earth it ripen, heaven above Shakes with the shock through all its shattering walls. For nought combines through nature void of pores.

Then not unvarying in exterior shape

476 LUCSBTICS. BOOK TL

All atoms flow from all things ; nor alike 995

On all things act they, with eflfect nnchanged.

The heam that boms and dries the nuMSt^ied earth. Flaxes the frost, o'er mountains piled snUime Rolls, in loose tide, the macerated snows^ And with its effluence melts th' adhesive wax. lOOO

Fire fuses gold and copper, but contracts The flesh of beeves and shrivels their tou^ hides. Red from the flame, steel hardens in the pool. But hides and flesh relax. The bearded goat On the wild olive most luxurious feasts, 1005

Deems it all nectar, all ambrosia deems, While nought so hateful to the mouth of man. Swine fly perfumes, sweet nuujoram is death. Scents that, with us, the spirit oft revive. While the gross slough, mere filth among ourselves, 1010 To them proves cleanliness ; and deep within Plunge thej, all joyous mid its miry waves.

This, too, the muse should notice ere we yet Full on the magnet enter ; that, as things Oft various classes hold of pores within, 1015

Each class from each must di£fer, and a breadth, A shape possess, appropriate to itself. For many a sense each vital tribe endows. Various, empowered as various parts t' achieve And mark its proper objects as they rise. 1020

Thus sounds by one assail us, this conveys Taste from each juice, and streams of odour that. So the firm stone some substances transpierce. Some wood, some gold, some silver, crystal some. Heat those pervading, the light image this. 1025

And thus through all things different objects rush With ease far different ; nature to their forms, Tlieir powers diverse, as long anterior proved, Th' appropriate duct adapting most exact.

These axioms thus premised, then, and maintained, 1030 All else flows obvious, and the total cause Unfolds spontaneous that the steel compels.

First, from the magnet countless atoms stream In tide perpetual, chasing the mid air 'Twixt the stern iron placed, and stone itself. 1035

BOOK VL ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 477

This space once emptied, and a total void

Formed broad between, abrupt the seeds of steel,

Thrown forth alike, usurp it, close conjoined.

Dragging the ring resistless as they rush.

For nought exists with primal seeds more harled, 1040

More clinched, more tangled in commutual bonds

Than the cold steel, all horror to the touch.

Whence wondrous less the doctrine thus announced,

That from the steel those atoms ne'er can part.

Urged through the vacuum, but the ring succeeds : 1045

Abrupt succeeds it, gains the stone abrupt.

And fixt and firm in mystic league coheres.

So flies it, too, towards every point alike.

Borne upwards, or transverse, where'er the void

Spreads round the magnet, following, in its course, 1050

llie seeds that nearest touch the vacant sphere.

Themselves hence foremost prest from strife within,

And powerless, else, through ether e'er t' ascend.

Hence, too, the ring draws pinions in its flight : That as, at once, secedes th' anterior air, 1055

And forms the void, th' elastic tide behind Drives it, perpetual plying at its back. For air encircles all things ; but alone Can act coercive, and the steel protrude, When first the momentary void exists, 1060

Opes its pure passage, and admits it free. Then potent acts it ; through the total ring, Through every pore, its puny atoms darts, Chasing the steel as winds the bark impel.

Then air, moreo'er, whate'er exists, within 1065

Holds, doubtless ; since of tenuous frame composed, And by surrounding air for ever lashed. Whence air through iron roves, too, deep-concealed, Ceaseless in action, and the docile ring Plies with internal tempest, doubly hence 1070

Borne towards the void where centres all its aim ; Armed with new speed, new succour for the flight.

Oft from the magnet, too, the steel recedes, Repelled by turns, and re-attracted close.

And oft in brazen vessels may we mark 1075

Ringlets of Samothrace, or fragments fine

478 LLdUEnUH. BOOK TL

Stni^k from the Tilid iron, boundii^

When dose bdow the magnet pmnts its ponrefs.

So vast th' aTeraon, e*en the brass beneadi.

Feel thej at times ; the diseord sodi induoed. 1080

Thoa thos lesolTe the pioblan : that the hraas

first throws, as nearest^ its attenuate breath.

And fills the pores of iron ; which when, nezl^

The stream magnetic reaches, it in Tain

Toils to transpierce, each avenne posseat. 1065

Checked in its coarse, with wave perpetual, henoe^

The rings, the raspings beats it^ and above

Far off repulses, else embracing strong.

Nor strange conceiTe it the magnetic stream Nought drives besides: for powers there are resist, 1090 Like the firm gold, confiding in their weight ; While some a frame so loose present and rare The rushing vapour permeates, void of touch. Such frame all timbers offer. But the steel Springs 'twixt the two : and hence, when through its pcnres Clogged with the brass effluvium, the full flood 1096

Flung from the magnet dashes it sublime.

Nor are such unions through created things Discerned unfrequent, nor severe the task To point affinities of equal strength. 1100

Lime onlj stones connects ; the strong steer-glae Joins planks so firm, a bond so valid rears, The closest-textured table through its veins Will easier sever than the glue desist.

The vine's pure juice in close alliance dares 1 105

League with the fountain ; while the ponderous pitch The light-winged oil refuses. With tiie fleece The purple murex so minutely blends Nought e'er can part them : no— though e'en thoa toil Day after day with all great Neptune's waves : 1110

No^his whole sea the stain would ne'er wash out.

One cement sole with gold concentrates gold. And nought but pewter brass with brass unites.

Such facts how numerous ! but why more recite ? To thee 'twere labour useless, and perplext ; 1115

And to the muse unjust ; for much remains, Much, though but few the numbers we design.

BOOK VI. ON THE NATUKE OF THINGS. 479

Where things once fit with textures reared reverse, Rare and o'ercharged, and this to that, and that Responds to this, alternate, they combine 1120

With firmest junction: but combine they, too. Oft as though hooks and ringlets formed the bond : And thus, perchance, the magnet meets the steel.

Now whence diseases rise, the morbid power What, that, once gendered, spreads its baneful blast 1125 O'er man's pale offspring, and the brutal throngs, , Next will we sing. Already hast thou heard Tiiat seeds exist, from many a substance flung, To life salubrious, yet, too oft, reversed. Noxious, and big with death. When spring the last 1130 Through heaven full flocking, all the vital air Sickens immediate, through its texture changed. And thus full flock they, their pestiferous power Fanning around them, from intrinsic birth In heaven itself begot as mists or clouds ; 1 135

Or breathed from earth, when once her soddened soil t^erments corrupted, plied by ceaseless rains Untimely poured, and hot succeeding suns.

Seest thou not, oft, the restless crowds that rove Far from their homes, their countries, tried severe 1140 With the new stream they drink, the heaven inhale ? From the dread change such sickness sole results. How wide must Britain differ in her clime From Egypt's tribes, o'er whom the northern pole Gleams never ! orient Pontus, how, from those 1145

Far westward, scattered o'er the Gadian isles, Or the swart Ethiop, blackening in his blaze ! And since the world's vast quarters, each from each, As various heavens and atmospheres divide, So man himself in tincture, face, and form 1 150

Alike must vary, and disease sustained.

High up the Nile, mid Egypt's central plains, Springs the dread leprosy, and there alone. Grout clogs the feet in Attica ; the sight Fails in Achaia : different regions, thus, 1 155

With different organs wage eternal war. As urged by atmospheres of frame unlike.

But when the heaven, of poisonous power to us,

480 LUCBETIUS. BOOK YL

First moves remote, its hostile effluence creeps

Slow, like a mist or vapour ; all around 1 IGO

Transforming as it passes, till, at length.

Beached our own region, it the total scene

Taints, and assimilates, and loads with death.

Abrupt then falls the new, pestiferous bane, Broad o'er the fountains, or the food invades 1165

Of man, or beast, the pasture or the grain. Or, haply, still along the breezy air It floats commingled ; whence, with every breath. Drink we alike the poison through our veins. And hence the murrain that assaults, at times, 1170

The lusty herd, the blight that thins our flocks. Nor aught imports it whether, urged by gain. We change the covering of the skies, and seek Ourselves the noxious climate, or its breeze Meet us spontaneous ; or aught else assail 1 175

Of nature new, and strange to every sense.

A plague like this, a tempest big with fate, Once ravaged Athens, and her sad domains ; Unpeopled all her city, and her paths Swept with destruction. For amid the realms 1180

Begot of Egypt, many a mighty tract Of ether traversed, many a flood o'erpast. At length, here fixed it ; o'er the hapless realm Of Cecrops hovering, and th' astonished race Dooming by thousands to disease and death. 1 185

The head first flamed with inward heat ; the eyes Reddened with fire suffused ; the purple jaws Sweated with bloody ichor ; ulcers foul Crept o'er the vocal path, obstructing close ; And the prompt tongue, expounder of the mind, 1 190

O'erflowed with gore, enfeebled in its post, Hoarse in its accent, harsh beneath the touch.

And when the morbid effluence through the throat Had reached the lungs, and filled the faltering heart, Then all the powers of life were loosened ; forth 1 195

Crept the spent breath most fetid from the mouth, As steams the putrid carcass : every power Failed through the soul— the body — and alike Lay they liquescent at the gates of death.

BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OB* THINGS. 481

Wiile with these dread, insufferable ills 1200

A restless anguish joined, companion close,

And sighs commixt with groans ; and hiccough deep.

And keen convulsive twitchings ceaseless urged,

Day after day, o'er every tortured limb,

The wearied wretch still wearying with assault. 1205

Yet ne'er too hot the system could'st thou mark Outwards, but rather tepid to the touch : Tinged still with purple-dye, and brandished o'er With trails of caustic ulcers, like the blaze Of erysipelas. But all within 1210

Burned to the bone ; the bosom heaved with flames Fierce as a furnace, nor would once endure The lightest vest thrown loosely o'er the limbs. All to the winds, and many to the waves, Careless, resigned them ; in the gelid stream 1215

Plunging their fiery bodies, to be cooled : While some, wide -gasping, into wells profound Rushed all abrupt ; and such the red-hot thirst Unquenchable that parched them, amplest showers Seemed but as dew-drops to th' unsated tongue. 1220

Nor e'er relaxed the sickness ; the racked frame Lay all-exhausted, and, in silence dread, Appalled, and doubtful, mused the Healing Art. For the broad eye-balls, burning with disease, Rolled in full stare, for ever void of sleep, 1225

And told the pressing danger ; nor alone Told it, for many a kindred symptom thronged. The mind's pure spirit, all despondent, raved ; The brow severe ; the visage fierce and wild ; The ears distracted, filled with ceaseless sounds ; 1230

Frequent the breath ; or ponderous oft, and rare ; The neck with pearls bedewed of glistening sweat ; Scanty the spittle, thin, of saflron dye, Salt, with hoarse cough scarce laboured from the throat. The limbs each trembled ; every tendon twitched 1235 Spread o'er the hands ; and from the feet extreme O'er all the frame a gradual coldness crept. Then, towards the last, the nostrils close collapsed ; The nose acute ; eyes hollow ; temples scooped ; Frigid the skin, retracted ; o'er the mouth \1^

2 I

482 LUCRETIUS. BOOK TL

A ghastly grin ; the shrivelled forehead tense ; The limbs outstretched, for instant death prepared ; Till with the eighth descending sun, for few Beached his ninth lustre, life for ever ceased.

And though, at times, th' infected death escaped 1245 From sanious organs, or the lapse profuse Of black-tinged feces, fate pursued them still. Hectic and void of strength, consumption pale Preyed on their vitals ; or, with head-ache keen. Oft from the nostrils tides of blood corrupt 1250

Poured unrestrained, and wasted them to shades.

And, e'en o'er these triumphant, frequent still Fixed the morbific matter on the limbs, Or seized the genial organs ; and to some The grave so hideous, they consented life 1255

E'en with th' excision of their sexual powers Dearly to ransom : some their being bought By loss of feet or hands ; and some escaped Void of all vision ; such their dread of death. And in oblivion some so deep were drowned 12G0

Themselves they knew not, nor their lives elapsed.

And though, unburied, corse o'er corse the streets Oft thronged promiscuous, still the plumy tribes. The forest monsters, either far aloof Kept, the foul stench repulsing, or if once 1265

Dared they the plunder, instant fate pursued.

Nor feathery flocks at noon, nor beasts at night Their native woods deserted ; with the pest Remote they languished, and full frequent died. But chief the dog his generous strength resigned, 1270 Tainting the highways, while the ruthless bane Through every limb his sickening spirit drove.

With eager strife th' enormous grave was snatched, By friends untended : nor was aught of curt Discerned specific ; for what here recalled 1275

To day's bright regions the vanescent soul. And gave the living ether to the lips, Proved poison there, and ten-fold stamped the fate.

But this the direst horror, that when once Man felt th' infection, as though full forewarned 1280

Of sure destruction, melancholy deep

BOOK YI. ON THE I7ATUBB OF THINGS. 483

Preyed o'er his heart, his total courage failed, Death sole he looked for, and his doom was death.

Thus seized the dread, unmitigated pest Man after man, and day succeeding day, 1285

With taint voracious : like the herds they fell Of bellowing beeves, or flocks of timorous sheep : On funeral funeral hence for ever piled. E'en he who fled th' afflicted, urged by love Of life too fond, and trembling for his fate, 1290

Repented soon severely, and himself Sunk in his guilty solitude, devoid Of friends, of succour, hopeless, and forlorn. While those who nursed them, to the pious task Housed by their prayers, with piteous moans commixt, 1295 Fell irretrievable : the best, by far. The worthiest, thus most frequent met their doom.

From ceaseless sepulchres, where each with each Vied in the duteous labour, they returned Faint, sad, and weeping ; and from grief alone 1 300

Oft to their beds resistless were they driven. Nor lived the mortal then, who ne'er was tried With death, with sickness, or severest woe.

Then thei rude herdsman, shepherd, and the man Of sturdiest strength, who drove the plough afield, 1305 Languished remote ; and in their wretched cots Sunk, the sad victims of disease and want : O'er breathless sires their breathless offspring lay, Or sires and mothers o'er the race they bore.

Nor small the misery through the city oft 1310

That poured from distant hamlets ; for in throngs Full flocked the sickening peasants for relief From every point diseased ; and every space. And every building crowded ; heightening hence The rage of death, the hillocks of the dead. 1315

Some, parched with thirst, beneath th' eternal spout

Dropped of the public conduits ; in the stream

Wallowing unwearied, and its dulcet draught

Deep-drinking till they bursted. Staggering, some

Threw o'er the highways, and the streets they trod, 1320

Their languid limbs ; dready half extinct.

Horrid with fetor, stiff with blotches foul,

2 I 2

484 LUCBETIU8. BOOK YL

With rags obscene scarce covered ; o'er the bones

Skin only, nought but skin ; and drowned alike

Within and outwards, with putrescent grume. 1325

At length the temples of the gods themselves, Changed into cham^ and their sacred shrines Thronged with the dead : for superstition now, The power of altars, half their sway had lost, Whehned in the pressure of the present woe. 1330

Nor longer now the costly rites prevailed Of ancient burial, erst punctilious kept : For all roved restless, with distracted mind, From scene to scene ; and worn with grief and toil Gave to their firiends th' interment chance allowed. 1335 |

And direst exigence impelled them oft, Headlong, to deeds most impious ; for the pyres Funereal seized they, reared not by themselves^ And with loud dirge, and wailing wild, o'er these Placed their own dead ; amid th' unhallowed blaze 1340 With blood contending, rather than resign The tomb thus gained, or quit th' enkindling cc»rse.

THE END.

INDEX.

Accidents, or events, what they are, L

450 Achaia, said to be hurtful to the eyes ; no

cause assigned, vi. 1114 Acheron, the river of Tartarus, iii. 37, 628, 997, 1036; iv. 41, 171 ; vL 250, 763; regions of, vl. 250 Achenuia templa, i. 121 ; iii. 25, 86

ttultorum OT'/a, iii. 1036

Acorns, the food of the first men, v. 937 Acoustics, Epicurean theory of, iv. 527,

seq. Action. All substance either acts upon other substance, or is itself acted upon, 1.441 Adjuncts* see Accidents iBgium, a town near Helice and Bura, in the Peloponnesus, destroyed by an earth- quake, vi. 584 iEgypt, *e» Egypt iBneas, race of, (JBneada^) i. 1 iEolia, for Italy, i. 712 iBther, feeds the heavenly bodies, i. 232.

Father ^ther, i. 151 Ethiopian mountains, vi. 736 ^tna, i. 723 ; ii. 594 ; vi. 640, 670, 682 Agriculture, conmiencement of, v. 1366 Air, not the origin of things, L 708 ; wastes and is renewed, like other bodies, v. 276. Unwholesome atoms mixed with air the cause of diseases, vi. 1094, 1118 Alinda, a city of Caria, garments ftom, iv.

1126. AeChian Ambition, vanity of it, ii. 37; v. 1126 Ammon, Jupiter, a spring near his tem- ple, cold m the day, and warm in the night, vi. 849 Anaxagoras, his hovfueomery explained, i.

830 ; ref\ited, i. 843 Ancus, king of Rome, iii. 1038 Androgynes, or hermaphrodites, v. 837 Animids, could not be constantly pro- duced, unless there were abundance of atoms constantlv supplied for the pur- pose ttma the dissolution of bodies, i. 226 ; mode and causes of their growth and decay, ii. 1122 ; first produced fh>m the earth, v. 789; why in perpetual want of nourishment, iv. 859 AnnihilatioQ. That nothing can be anni- hilated, i. 216, 218, 249, atque alibi Anonymous substance, combined with

three others, heat, aura, and air, in the composition of the soul, iii. 241

Apollo, see Phoebus

Arabian odours, see Panchaean

Arados, in Phoenicia, sea near it, in which rises a spring of fresh water, vi. 891

Arbutus tree, v. 939, 963

Arcadian boar, v. 25

birds, V. 32

Aristoxenus, his opinion that the soul was & harmony, iii. 100; refhted, 11»— 136

Arts, of comparatively recent invention, V. 333

Athens, inventress of agriculture, and promoter of the polite arts, vi. 1 : one of the places called Avemi within its walls, vi. 750

Atoms, or primary particles of things, proved to be perfectly solid, i. 484 — 528 ; also indivisible, and consequently eter- nal, i 529 — 635 ; those who have thought otherwise refuted, i. 636, seq.; sense- less, ii. 842; absurdities which would follow from supposing that sensible beings must be produced firom sensible atoms, ii. 900, 906 ; proved to be colour- less, ii. 730—842; in falling through space, some declined a little fh>m ti^e right line, otherwise there would have been no collisions and combinations, ii. 217 — 224 ; the shapes of atoms are limit- ed in number, but tiie number of each shape is infinite, ii. 478—528 ; with re- ference to generation, the positions, con- nexions, and reciprocal impulses of atoms, are of the greatest importance, i. 817,908; ii. 1008. See Matter. Speed

' with which atoms move, ii. 141

Avemi, certain places so named, vi. 739 ; why so called, vi. 741 ; where situate, vi. 748—760

Augmentation of things, how caused, i. 177, 189

Augury, vanity of, vL 379

Aura, one of the four subtle substances of which the soul and mind are composed, iii. 233, 248

Aurora, her rising, ii. 143 ; iv. 713 ; v. 655

Babe, new-bom, helplessness of, v. 223 Babylonian astronomy, v. 726 coverlets, iv. 1026

486

En>£X.

Baeclnu. wed ggtiratlfriy te vine. S. CM; his benefits bestowed aa nuakiiMi. T. 14. &r Ceres. homolEaennrmmm not attended with loss of wcigikt, m. 222

Banenneas, in women, not caned hf H- ▼ine inflnencc, ir. 1239 ; its real canacsy ibid. ; why some women are barasn to some men, and frnitfol to othan, nr. 1244

Beasts, see Brates

Beantj. Kmgs chosen on aeeoimt of beam- tj <^ person, t. 1110

Bearer. Effects of the smdl of ea««oraaB on wOTnen in a cectain condition, tL 795

Birds, were prodoced first of all animals, ▼. 799 ; sprung from the eaztii, t. 823; have dreams, ir. 1004; change their notes with changes of fteUng, t. 1077 ; or with changes of the weaOiar, as crows, T. 1082

Bistonian regions, where the hones of Diomede were, t. 30

Boar, Arcadian, t. 25

Body, see Substance

, the vessel or receptacle of the sool,

iJL 441, 554

Brass, more valued than any other metal, before iron was known, v. 1272, 1286

Britain, allusion to the dimate of, vL 1105

Brutes, sprung from the earth, v. 821; the young know their dams, and the dams thcdr young, from difference of sliape, iL 349—370; have dreams, iv. 987, 992, 999; utter different sounds of voice according to their different feel- ings, V. 1058 — 1089

Bull of Crete, v. 26

Cadiz, vi. 1107

Callicpe invoked, vi. 94

Candles, their flame sustained by atoms perpetually rising, and perpetually pass- ing off, V. 295 ; stench of a newly extin- guished candle causes some persons to swoon, vi. 7W

Capricorn, v. 614

Carthage, iii. 1047

Carthaginians contending with Rome, iii. 845

Castor, Castoreum, see Beaver

Cecrops, territory of, (L e. Attica,) vL 1137

Centaurs, why such monsters could never have existed, v. 875; see Chimsera; how the images of them are produced, iv. 741

Centaury, the bitter herb, ii. 401 ; iv. 124

Centre. Bodies do not tend to a centre, L 1051 ; no central point in the universe, i. 1069 ; if there were one, bodies would not rest at it more than in any other place, ib.

Cerberus, a mere creature of the imagina- tion, iiL 1024; iv. 735

iir. iiM: herfft

-- He

-, T. 731

Change, is pcrpettuDy goiBp OB fta ■BiHi: ■"•Hiiig statiDBazy. r. SSi ; whitiiiiii liable to change ia moitaL t. 377; shi LCn, 79t; n.7»; SL518; dkaagifei the valne «f thinga, ▼. 1S79; 'W diange is e&ctcd. in. 5U

Chaicaal,the smiril of it **r«^— »> tstfti brain, vl 8i3; lanedy assdrnt it, ak

Chariots, the niTeaitHMi of ttcaa 8iA»- q^Kst to tiiat of nfim^ OB konehackfT. 129C;anned wilh acjtkaa, t. ISM; fi. fril

Charybdii,! 733

Chianganaents,iT. 1U6. Sk AhaU

Childien, ooght to be dntiftal tv «hek ps> rents, iL 605 ; those who aie are not deserving to be poKCBts selves, fi. 615; why they aoBKthMsie- sonble the ftther, oar moUMr. or bod, iv. 1206 ; why they axe seoaetiBMS Bki their grandfathers or other anceatami. 1214; how dcc^ved by pkyaidsBS m nmses, L 935; iv. 11; afraid in tti daik,fi.54; iiL87; tLSS

Chimsera, a raonster Oat aercr eoaH have existed, t. 899; fi. TtS. ^te Oen- taurs

Olician saffron, stage qprinkled witti aio- lution of, iL 416

Cities, first built, v. 1107.

Clothes, those that were stitdied together preceded those that were woven, v. 1349. See Garments

Clouds, how generated, vi. 451 ; how laiB is produced, vL 495; great nins, tL 517; fantastic shapes of, tv. 137; not always soft, but so hard that they w&l crackle if broken, vL ISO

Cock, why the lion shrinks from hSm, ir. 712

Cold, Lucretius thought it an invlsilik substance, L 356; penetrates to the bones, and through metals and walls, L 356, 495 ; vL 949, 953. See Heat

Colour. Any colour may be changed into any other colour by an alteration in the position of the atoms of the substance to which it belongs, ii. 765 ; instance in the change of the colour of the sea from dark to white, A. ; change in the eoloar of pigeons' necks and peacocks' tails, from the efiecU of light, iL 801; no colour without light, inference from this. ii. 795

Conjuncts, or Adjuncts, see Accidents

Conscience, disquietudes of a guilty, iiL lOSI

Contentment, the greatest riches, v. 1116; man may be content with little, IL 20

X

INDEX.

Connilsionf in tboM diseaied with the

plague, vi. 1160, 1189 Com, said to have been fint sown by

Ceres, v. 14 ; the knowledge of corn and

wine not neeessary to mankind, for some

nations still live without them, v. 16 Corruption, or dissolution, of one thing is

necessary to generation of another, i. 268 Cranes, their noise, iv. 182, 911 Craters of JEtna, tL 702 Cretan bull, ▼. 26

Crete, the scene of Jupiter's infancy, 1. 639 Crows, why nerer white, or swans black,

iL 817 ; foretell changes of weather, t.

1082 ColtiTation in the earliest ages, y. 1366 ;

tools were first made of brass, y. 1288 CunuB, one of the Ayemi near it, yL 748 Cups of metal penetrated by cold and

heat, i. 496 ; yi. 951 Curetes, priests who brought up Jupiter

in Crete, ii. 634 Cybele, the mother of the gods ; Lucretius

makes ner the same as the Earth, U.

fi09, 658; how represented, and with

what ceremonies worshipped, iL 602, teq.

Donaides, the fieible of them commented

upon, iiL 1017 Day and night, possible causes of their in- crease aiu) decrease, y. 679, teq.; why they succeed one another, y. 649 Death, dmcribed, iL 944 ; is the separation of soul and body, IiL 209—228; the fear of it produces and cherishes many eyOs, iii. 59 ; must be dispelled by the contem- plation of the course of nature, and the exercise of reason, L 149 ; ii. 60 ; iiL 91 ; vL 41 Deer, timid from natural constitution, UL 300 ; cast their horns, iii. 614 ; sup- posed to draw serpents from their holes by their breath, yL 766 Ddty, tee Gods Delphic laurel, tee Laurel Democritus, his opinion that each atom of the soul corresponded to an atom of the body, iii. 871; he committed suicide when he found old age coming on, iii. 1052 ; his notion concerning the reyolu- tions of the heavenly bodies, y. 620 Descriptions —

Of (the effects of the i^roach of

Venus, i. 6 Of the Spring, L 10 Of Mars in the lap of Venus, L S3 Of the effects of wind, i. 272 Of a torrent, L 281 Of a wood taking fire, i. 896 Of a fiock of sheep feeding on a dis- tant hill, ilL 317 Of armies engaging, ii. 823 Of a cow bemoaning the loss of her

calf, ii. 352 Of a shipwreck, iL 553 Of the goddess Cybele, and the cere-

Descriptions —

monies used in her worship, IL 601 Of the golden age, and subsequent

change in things, iL 1158 Of a person swooning, iiL 153 Of a person in a lethargy, iii. 466 Of the eflecU of wine, iii. 475 Of a person in an epileptic fit, iii.

486 Of the terrors of a guilty conscience,

iiL 1031 Of appearances in the clouds, iv.

137 Of the swiftness of images, iv. 210 Of shadow, iv. 369 Of ships reflected in the water, iv.

437 Of phanomena and effects in

dreams, iv. 963—1026 Of a new-bom babe, y. 223 Of the rise and formation of the

world, y. 417—509 Of the four seasons, v. 736 Of the production of animals from

the earth, v. 803 Of the discovery of metals, y. 1251 Of a thunder-storm, vL 281 Of an eruption of ^tna» vL 640 Of the Avemi, vL 739 Of the plague at Athens, vL 1137 Diana, Iphigenia immolated at her altar,

L 85 Diminution of things, how caused, L 312 ;

ii. 71 Diseases, arise from noxious atoms in the air, vL 1089; certain diseases peculiar to certain countries, vi. 1113 Dissolution ; things more easily dissolved

than formed, L 557 Distance of an object, how known by its

image, according to Lucretius, iv. 245 Divisibility of matter is Ifanited, L 552.

600, 616 Dodona, a spring there which sets fire to

light substances, vi. 880 Dogs, soon seized by the pestilence, vL

1221 Dreams, caused by images flving about, iv. 38, 725, 759. How the mind deceives itself in dreams, 451—469

Earth, contains in itself various sorts of atoms, whence all thinss are produced, iL 590; Justly, therefore, called the Great Mother, iL 599 ; v. 794, 820 ; how worshipped under the name of Cybele, iL 601 ; grows old and decays, ii. 1151 ; hangs in the air, U. 603 ; how it rests in the middle of the world without being a burden to the air, v. 535 — 564; was generated and is perishable, v. 236, 735 ; vi. 601 ; so much of it is useless to man, that it cannot have been designed by divine wisdom for man's use, v. 201

Earthquakes, causes of, vL 585—607

488

INDEX.

Echo, how fimned, iv. 572 ; several echoe from oM spot, iv. 579

Eclipses, V. 750 ; eclipses of the sun may not always proceed from the inteiposi- tion of the moon, v. 752 ; those of the moon may not always be caused by the intervention of the earth, v. 762

Egypt, vi. 714.1105,1139

Egyptians subject to leprosy, vi. 1113

Elements, the four : no one of them the origin of all other things, i. 706—712; not fire, as Heraclitus thought, i. 636 ; nor any combination of any of the four, i. 713 ; the errors of Empedocles and others in making the four elements the origin of things, i. 743, seq. ; are all four generated and perishable, ▼. 236 ;

'' two of them, fire and water, always at strife with each other, v. 381

Elephants, not prolific, ii. 533; why called Boves Iaum, v. 1301, 1338; used in war, with towers, v. 1301

Empedocles, a native of Agrigentum, i. 717 ; his excellence as a philosopher, i. 730 ; his errors in making the four ele- ments the origin of things, denying the existence of vacuity in bodies, and af- firming matter to be infinitely divisible, i. 743, tea.

Ennius, believed in the transmigration of souls, i. 117; was the first eminent Latin poet, i. 118; said that the shade of Homer appeared to him, i. 125

Epicurus, was the first that raised his eyes against the terrors of religion, 1. 63 ; his meditations, and their results, i. 73 ; his doctrines adopted by Lucretius, iii. 1 ; V. 56 ; his liberation of the mind from the terrors of future sufierings, iii. 14 ; surpassed all other benefactors of man- kind, V. II ; iii. 1055 ; excellence of his instructions, vi. 1

Epidemical d^eases caused by the pre- valence of certain atoms, vi. 1092

Erjrsipelas, vi. 661, 1 166

Etesian winds, v. 741 ; vi. 717, 731

Etruscan augury, vanity of, vi. 379

Events, see Accidents

False, tee True

Fate, chain of causes, ii. 251 ; the gods cannot preserve their temples against the decay appointed by fate, or the law of nature, v. 309

Fauns, deities of the woods, iv. 585

Favonius, the wind, i. 11

Fear of death, must be expelled from the mind before pure tranquillity can be en- joyed, iii. 37 ; sometimes drives men to suicide, iii. 79

Fire, not the origin of all things, as He- raclitus believed, i. 636, teq. ; trees sometimes take fire of themselves, i. 896; fiame does not aspire naturally, but only from an impelling force, ii. 1 84 — ^215 ; fire perishes and is renewed, like

the other three elements, v. 282; origin of fire among mankind was probably troxa lightning, v. 109O ; yet might have had another origin, v. 1095 ; wind, like other bodies, may take fire Ihmi swift- ness of motion, vi. 300 ; all combustible bodies contain atoms to supply flame, fl. 672 ; fire of lightning is nMure ^i^tmtiDg than ordinary fire, as consisting of smaller atoms, ii. 381

Fire, St. Anthony's, tee Erysipelas

Firm, tee Fluid, Solid

Flood, of Deucalion, v. 412

Flora, V. 738

Fluid. Why some substances are fluid, others solid, ii. 444 — 455

Food. The same foods nourish different sni- mals by reason of the variety of the atoms which they contain, ii. 660 ; how food is distributed, and disposed of, after it is received into the body, ii. 1222 ; pleasure from food is limited to the mouth, iv. 629; how food, by disturbing the atoms of the body, tends to produce sleep, iv. 955 ; how men began to dress food, v. 1101

Force necessary to the dissolution of sub- stances, and why the same degree of force cannot dissolve every substance, i. 239

Fountain of Jupiter Ammon, vi. 849 ; of Dodona, vi. 880

Furies, creatures of the imagination, ilL 1024

Gain, priests of Cybele, ii. 614

Games at Athens in honour of Vulcan, ii. 78

Gardens of the Hesperides, guarded by a dragon, v. 33

Garments of Alinda and Chia, iv. 112C. See Clothes

Geese, saved the Capitol, iv. 685; per- ceive the smell of a man at a great dis- tance, ih.

Generation, corruption necessary to it, L 263; motion necessary to it, 1. 343; what things are necessary to animal generation, v. 847

Gerj'on, v. 28

Ghosts, where said by Ennius to reside, i. 123. See Images

Giants. Those who afiinn that the heaven is perishable, are thought as impious as the giants who assailed it, v. 118

Giddiness, caused by whirling round, iv.

• 401

Glue, its tenacity, vi. 1068

Gods. Seems doubtful whether Lucretius believed in their existence or not. In V. 1160—1196, he seems to intimate that they were the mere offspring of imagin- ation; in vi. 76, he adverts to them as real beings, emitting images from their substance. Described as enjoying a state of profound tranquillity and un-

INDEX.

489

concern,!. 58; ii. 647; did not make tbe world, v. 157; do not rule it, ii. 1090; cannot preserve even their own temples, v. 309 Gold, first dbcovery of it, v. 1240 Golden apples of the Hesperides, v. 33 Good men, the destruction of them by lightning, whilst the bad are spared, a proof that the fires of heaven are not wielded by a Just deity, vi. 387 Government, monarchy was the first form of it, V. 1107; kings were envied and deposed, and anarchy ensued, v. 1135; but the wiser part of men taught the rest to re-establish a government of some kind, v. 1142. See Kings Grafting, v. 1360

Greeks, their philosophy difficult to be ex- pounded in Latin verse, L 137. Greek poets' description of Cybele and her rites, ii. 601

Hail. How hail, ice, snow, and hoar-frost are generated, it is easy to conceive when the nature of atoms is understood, vi. 627

Happiness, not to be attained without ex- emption from fear of the future, i. 37

Hardness, see Solidity

Harmony. The soul not a harmony of the parts of the body, iii. 98

Hearing, produced by the impact of cor- po'real atoms on the organs of hearing, IV. 525; why many hear, when one speaks, iv. 565, 605 ; why we hear sounds through walls, iv. 597

Heat, a substance, though invisible, I. 495 ; necessary to life, and to the forma- tion of the soul, iii. 270 ; abounded in the earth at the time of the first pro- duction of animals, v. 804 ; no heat in which air is not mixed, ilL 235 ; heat and cold affect the senses differently, from the difference in their constituent atoms, ii. 431

Heavens, not immutable and imperish- able, V. 92 ; not the abodes of the gods, which cannot be supposed to be in our world, V. 147 ; the formation of it, v. 468, 499 : causes of its motion, and ^of that of the heavenly bodies, v. 510

Helen, i. 465

Helice and Bura swallowed up by an earthquake. See iEgium

Helicon, i. 119; iii. 133; iv. 549; vi. 786

Hell, see Tartarus

Hellebore, poison to man, but fattens goats and quails, iv. 642 ; causes of such effects, iv. 644

Heraclitus, his. opinion that fire was the origin of things, i. 636 ; his style adapted rather to amaze the ignorant than to delight the learned, i. 640 ; but seems to have written with a certain elegance, i. 642 ; his opinion about fire refUted, i. 646—705

Herbs and trees were produced before ani- mals, V. 781. See Plants

Hercules, his labours, v. 22 ; of less bene- fit to mankind than those of Epicurus, ib,

Hesperides, gardens of, guarded by a dragon, v. 33

Hoar-frost, see Hail

Homer. Ennius says that his shade ap- peared to ihim, i. 125 ; his golden chain descending from heaven, iL 1155

Homceomery of Anaxagoras, see Anaxa- goras

Honey, pleasant to the taste from the smoothness and roundness of its parti- cles, ii. 398 ; dead embalmed in honey, iii. 904 ; how its consistence differs from that of water, iii. 190; contains both smooth and sharp particles, iv. 673; physicians tinge the rims of cups with honey for children, i. 946 ; iv. 22 ; bees attracted by the smell of honey, iv. 681

Houses. The commencement of building houses, V. 1009

Human nature requires but little for its support, ii. 20. See Man

Hunger, caused by the emission of parti- cles from the body, iv. 859

Hydra, killed by Hercules, v. 27

Hyrcanian dogs, iii. 750

Ice, see Hail

Ida, a phenomenon seen from it at sun- rise, V. 662

Images, what is to be understood by them, and how they are produced, iv. 35, 46 ; retain the form and likeness of the body from which they pass, iv. 49 ; extreme tenuity of them, iv. 109 ; not more strange that images should fiy off from objects than that odours should be dis- charged from them, iv. 122 ; do not all come from objects; some are formed spontaneously, iv. 130; some are per- petually flying off from objects, iv. 144, 726; why reflected only from smooth surfaces, iv. 147 ; the form which we see in a mirror, is not the effect of one image only, but of many, iv. 160 ; images are the sole cause of vision, iv. 238; their swiftness, iv. 177 ; are dispersed in all directions, but we only perceive those on which we fix our attention, iv. 240; we know the distance of objects from the effect of their images on the eyes, iv. 245 ; why the image in a mir- ror appears beyond its surface, iv. 270 ; why the right hand of a person appears to be the left when reflected in a mirror, iv. 293; transmission of images from mirror to mirror, iv. 303; an observation about images in concave or convex mir- rors, (it is doubtfril which of the two is meant,) iv. 312 ; why our image in a mirror seems to move with us, iv. 321 ; three sorts of images ; those ^bL\&\iL -9c^

490

INDEX.

from olijeete, those which are generated spontaneously, and those which are compounded, iv. 738 ; images of mon- sters, how formed, iv. 743; how it is that we appear to see images of the dead, iy. 759, 730 Imagination, tee Images, Thought Impacts. This world not sustained by per-

rtual impacts of surrounding matter, 1040

Impiety, Lucretius defends himself a^rainst the chai^ of, L 81 ; many im- pious deeds have been caused by fan- cied religion, L 84

Infinitude of the universe, i. 969

Invocation of Venus, i. I. See Venus

Ionian Sea, L 720

Iphigenia, sacrifice of, i. 85

Iron, discovery of it, v. 1280; how at- tracted by the magnet, vi 907

Italy, caUed ^olia, i. 722

Jaundice, all things seem yellow to those

afiected with it, iv. 333 Jupiter, folly of supposing that he hurls

uiunder and lightning, vL 387, 401

Kings, were first elected firom regard to strength and beauty of person, v. 1110 ; were envied and slain, and the govern- ment fell to the rabble, v. 1135; kings tremble at the supposed power of the gods, v. 1221 ; kings in their sleep dream of battles, iv. 1010

Knowledge. He that denies that there is any knowledge, whence has he that knowledge ? iv. 470

Lamps, see Candles

Laurel burns with a crackling sound, vi. 154

Laws, made to suppress violence and bloodshed, v. 1143 ; improved by experi- ence, v. 1447 ; came from Athens, vi. 3

Leaders, see Kings

Least ; must be a least possible quantity in every kind of matter, or a point at which division ends, i. 552 — 635

Leprosy, frequent in Egypt, vi. 1113

Lemaean Hydra slain by Hercules, v. 26

Letters, invention of, v. 1444

Life, what is necessary to preserve life in the body, iii. 120 ; no reason why we should seek to prolong it beyond the or- dinary term, iii. 946 ; is given to none as a property, but to all for use, iii. 984; the life of some so inanimate that it may almost be called dead, iii. 1059; life passed in darkness, ii. 53; life of the wise most desirable, ii. 1 ; the directress of life is pleasure, iL 172; commencement of vegetable and animal life, v. 781, seq.; tranquil life of the gods, i. 57 ; ii. 646

Light, consists of exceedingly small atoms that move with great velocity, iL 143 ;

passes through horn when water win not, ii, 387 ; partidea of light perpetually passing off fxmn the sun, v. 282 ; the flame of lamps constantly wasting, and constantly being renewed, by the agmey of heat, V. 295

Lightning, produced by a conooorse of ig- neous atoms in the clonda, vi. 160; a dry doud may thus be burned up with a crackling like that of laurel leaves^vi 150 ; may be produced by wind heated lh)m its own velocity, vi. 173, 295 ; or by the compression of clouds, vi 211, 246 ; or by the rarefrwtion of a cloud, vi 213 ; its penetrating power, vi 223, 330, 348 ; heat in the clouds may be assisted by the sun's heat, vi. 273 ; mav be pro- duced by the impact on a doud ofwiad not heated, vi 309 ; its force, vi. 335 ; most prevalent in autumn, vi 357; study of Etruscan auguries unpn^table, vi. 379; lightning not hurled by Jupiter or any of the gods, and why, vi 387; more penetrating than ordinary flame, firom the smallness of its atoms, ii. 381

Limbs, cannot retain life when separated from the body, ii 912 ; not produced for use, but used because they were found serviceable, iv. 824 ; body will live whoi the limbs are taken away, iii. 120, 642

Lions, of a fierce disposition, iM. 297; shrink from a cock, iv. 714 ; lions draw the chariot of Cybele, ii. 602 ; the Psr- thians attempted to use them in war, V. 1309 ; the Nemsean lion, v. 25

Liquids, composed of smooth and round particles, ii. 451

Loadstone, see Magnet

Looking-glass, tee Mirror

Love and desire, the rise, progress, and force of them, iv. 1027 ; inconveniences of too great indulgence of the passion of love, iv. 1117; men, blind with desire, attribute to the beloved object qualities which she does not possess, iv. 1145 ; why plain women are often deserving objects of afi^tion, iv. 1274 ; how a man is to rescue himself from the nets of love, iv. 1059, 1145

Magnet, first noticed in the country of the Magnetes, vi. 909 ; will attach to itself a number of iron rings, dependent one from another, vi 912; causes of its power detailed, vi. 918 — 1088 ; atoms fly off from the magnet, and atoms of the iron rush into their places, giving an im- pulse to the whole of the iron, vi 1001 ; the air assists in impelling the iron, vi 1021 ; its effect on Samothracian rings, and on filings of iron in a braaen basin, vi 1043 ; reason why it acts on no sub- stance but iron, vi. 1055 ; mutual adapt- ation of the atoms and pores of the magnet and iron to one another, vi 1083

Man. Dispositions of men differ, frran tike

INDEX.

491

greater or less influence of certain particles in their organization, iii. 308 ; man the most helpligss of all animals in his infancy, t. 223 ; origin of man, v. 803; condition of the first men; a hardy race, v. 923 ; how they lived, v. 929— 1008 ; began by degrees to form socie- ttes, V. 1009; commencement of lan- guage, y. 1027 ; no one man gave names to things, V. 1040—1090 ; how men be- gan to build cities, establish govern- ment, and improve their condition, v. 1107—1456

Manes. Men sacrifice to the Dii Manes, iii. 52. Manes do not dwell in the Avemi, vi. 765

Mars in the lap of Venus, i. S3

Mask of plaster, iv. 297

Matter, must have existed always, since nothing can spring from nothing, i. 150 ; if nothmg could rise out of nothing, any thing might rise out of any thing, i. 160 ; and might rise at any time, i. 175 ; or increase to any size at once, i. 185; matter is imperishable; substances of every kind may be resolved into their atoms, but their atoms cannot be de- .Mroyed, i. 216 ; were there no such dis- tinct imperishable atoms, animals (and vegetables) could not be reproduced and nourished, generatim, according to their several kinds, i. 226 ; there must be atoms that resist all destructive force, i. 239, 541, 552 ; the atoms of mat- ter are invisible, L 272 ; no portion of matter is solid, but all has some vacuity intermixed with it, i. 330—370 ; further arguments on this head, L 371 — 400; atoms of matter, to be indestructible, must be solid, i. 484, 531 ; were there no vacuity in matter, all matter would be solid, and unable to move and act, i. 521 ; if the ultimate particles of matter were soft, there could be no solid sub- stances formed, i. 571 ; if the atoms of matter were not infrangible and imper- ishable, the different kinds of animals and substances could not be kept dis- tinct, i. 585 ; some arguments to show that matter is not infinitely divisible, i. 600 — 628; compound bodies could not subsist but for a constant supply of matter to renew the waste from them, i 1034; certain combinations of matter generate certain productions, i. 170 ; ii. 871

Matuta leads forth Aurora at a certain time, V. 655

Meat, see Food

Mediocrity, the state of most enjoyment, V. 1126

Memmius, i. 27, et aUbi. See the Life of Lucretius.

Memory, lost by many in the plague at Athens, vL 1212

Metals, how first discovered, v. 1240;

pervious to heat and cold, i. 496; vi. 949, 955. /See Iron, Brass, Gold

Milk, pleasant to the taste from the smoothness and roundness of its parti- cles, ii. 398

Mind, is a part of a man not less than the hand and foot, iii. 94 ; mind and soul are both material, as they act by corpo- real touch, the mind on the soul, and the soul on the body, iii. 162; consist of the finest and most minute particles, iii. 180, 217, 426; swiftness of thought, iii. 183; mind and soul are so intimately connected as to form one substance, iii. 137,160; Lucretius, therefore, in prov- ing them both mortal, uses the terms indiscriminately, iii. 422; mind has greater influence than the soul in pre- serving life, iii. 397 ; how the mind judges of the difierent flgures of objects, iv. 231 ; mind sometimes suffers when the soul is free from pain or trouble, iii. 150 ; strong passion in the mind arises from the prevalence of hot particles in it, iii. 289 ; thoughts in the mind pro- duced by images, iv. 724. See Soul

Mines, noxious e£9uvia from, vi. 811

Mirrors, why a polished surface, as of mir- rors, reflects the images of objects, when that of other substances does not, iv. 151 ; convex or concave mirrors, iv. 312. See Images

Moisture penetrates into many bodies that seem solid, i. 347

Monarchy, commencement of it, ▼. 1107. See Kings, Government

Monster. Such monsters as Chimseras and Centaurs never could have existed, ii. 705 ; V. 899 ; when the earth began to produce animals, it generated many monsters and abortions, which of neces- sity perished, v. 835 — 853

Moon, not much larger, according to Lu- cretius, than she appears, v. 575; he does not decide whether she shines with her own or with borrowed light, v. 575, 703; cannot tell why she travels through the twelve signs in a month, when the sun takes a year to traverse them, V. 613; causes of the moon's phases proposed, v. 703 — 729 ; the old moon may decay, and a new one be pro- duced, periodically, v. 730 ; possible causes of eclipses, v. 750 — 769

Morning, how it may be caused, v. 655 — 678

Motes in the sun-beam, from their motions we may judge of those of the primordial atoms, ii. Ill

Motion, that of atoms was from their own weight, by which they descended through the infinity of space, ii. 83, 182, 137, 1.57, 201, 217; vi. 335; nobody has any upward motion of itself, ii. 134 ; but the motion of some atoms deviated ftom the right line^ aad b,«&e& «cS2&s£vsi«%\n^«-

492

INDEX.

place, iL 216, 292; unless there had been this commencement of deviation from the right line, there could have been no voluntary motion in aninuUs, ii. 250; forced or involuntary motion in animals is checked by the exercise of the will, ii.

; 272 : voluntary motion in animals begins firom the heart or pectoral r^ons, ii. 269; there could be no motion without vacuum, i. 336, 371 ; descending bodies increase the swiftness of their motion as they proceed, vi. 340; bodies acquire heat by rapidity of motion, vi. 177 ; how men move whenever and wherever they please, iv. 87»— 892. Motion of the neavens, see Heavens

Music, men took their idea of it from the voices of birds, v. 1378; Phrygian mu- sic, iL 621

Names of things, how introduced, iv. 1027; absurdity of supposing that one man gave names to all things, iv. 1040

Nature, her atoms always restless and at work, more or less, ii. 309. Nature of things, what Lucretius means by these words, iii. 1085. See Atoms, World, Things

Navigation, unknown in the earliest ages, V. 1004 ; its commencement, v. 1441

Necessity. Matter being such a^t is, and having room to work, things are pro- duced and maintained of necessity, without any interference of a higher power, ii. 1067—1104

Neptune, sea so called, ii. 655. See Ceres, Bacchus

Night, possible causes of, v. 650

Nile, causes of its inundations suggested, vi. 713—738

Nose, sharp in those that were dying of the plague, vi. 1192

Nothing is produced from nothing, i. 151 ; if things could rise from nothing, there could be no need of seeds or generating matter, i. 160; any thing might then rise any where ; but this is not the case, nothing arises but where there is matter to produce it, i. 167 ; nor at any time but when matter is supplied, i. 175; nor can things increase their size firom no- thing after they are produced ; — ^matter is necessary for their growth, i. 185 — 215 ; no substance is reduced to nothing, i. 216—265. See Matter, Atoms

Novelty surprises and attracts, ii. 1030

Nymphs, dwell in groves and wilds, iv. 582 ; by rills and fountains, v. 947

Oars appear broken or bent when part is in the water, and part out, iv. 440

Odours, are material substances, as they act by touch on the sense, i. 299 ; con- sist of small atoms, but not so small as those of BOimds, ib., and iv. 700; are dispersed from substances in all direc-

tions, iv. 675 ; di^rent odours suit the senses of diflferent animals, iv. 679; odours do not diffuse themselves so fsr as sounds, iv. 691 ; cause of this, t^.; grow cool, as it were, from the slowness of their progress, before they reach the senses of persons at a distance, iv. 703

Oil, its disshnilarity to water is caused bf the different shape of its particles, ii. 391 ; olive oU used in making unguents, as being inodorous, ii. 847

Omen, see Augury

Oracles of Apollo, less true than the doc- trines of Empedocles and other philoso- phers, i. 738 ; and than those of Epicu- rus and Lucretius, v. 1 1 1

Orcus, see Tartarus

Oxen, their disposition oi a middle nature between that of lions and deer, iiL 303

Pain in animals caused by concussion and disturbance of their atoms, iL 963. See Pleasure

Pallas, one of the Avemi near her temple at Athens, vL 751

Pan, the rustics think that they hear him piping in the woods, iv. 588

Panchsean odours, iL 417

Pandion, people of, viz. the Athenians, vL 1141

Parents. How children resemble one or other of their parents, or both, iv. 1205 ; how it is that parents have children re- sembling their forefathers, iv. 1217; children ought to be moved by the kind- nesses of parents, ii. 606 ; blandishments of children soften the rude dispositiims of parents, v. 1016

Paris, L 475

Parthians vainly tried to use lions in war, V. 1309

Peloponnesus, earthquake in, vi. 586

Pestilence, among men or other animals, how caused, vL 1126; that at Athens described, vL 1137; came f^om l^ypt, vi. 1140 ; its effect on the religious feel- ings of the people, vi. 1275

Phaethon, the fable respecting him, v. 397

Philosophy, advantages of the study of it, L 1 107 ; ii. 7, 58 ; v. 10 ; vL 68, 80. See Wisdom

Phcebus, see Oracles of Apollo

Phrygian music excites the mind, ii. 621. Phrygian Curetes attendant on Cybele, ii. 630, 612

Piety, true; what it is not, and what it is, V. 1197—1202

Pipe, to play on, invention of, v. 1382

Plague, see Pestilence

Plants, spontaneously produced firom the earth, iL 1158 ; were the earth's first productions, v. 781 ; are nourished by particles rising from- the ground, L 253

Pleasure, produced by the removsd of the cause of pain, iL 966 ; m> pleasure to

INDEX.

493

look on the sufRerings of another, iL 3. Pleasure the directress of life, iL 172 ; pure pleasure to be sought, iv. 1071; only moderate pleasures required by na- ture, ii 24; use and experience have taught men pleasures, v. 1449

Poetry began soon after the inyention of letters, v. 1443

Poets, tales of, terrify the minds of the ignorant, i. 103; Lucretius could him- self have invented similar tales if he had thought fit, tb.

Pontus Euxinus always flows towards the Mediterranean, v. 507

Portico. How a long portico, viewed from one end,' seems to contract to a point at the other, iv 430

Power, political, first assumed by leaders who made themselves kings, y. 1107. See Kings, Government

Prester, a fiery whirlwind, vi. 445

Priests of Cybele, why deprived of the power of propagating their kind, ii. 615

Principles of things, are atoms, accord- ing to Epicurus and Lucretius, i. 50; see Atoms. Heraclitus thought that fire was the great principle, i. 635 ; other philosophers united certain of the four elements to form principles, i. 713 ; Empedocles thought that the four ele- ments were necessary principles of things, i. 715; the homoeomery of Anaxa^oras, i. 830

Providence, none exercised over the world by the gods, 11. 651, 1090 ; v. 165

Purple and gold, not necessary to happi- ness, ii. 51 ; V. 1422

Pythia, oracles of the, i. 740 ; v. 113

Quantity. That any quantity must neces- sarily havB an extreme, i 600

Rain, general causes of, vi. 495 — 512 ; .of moderate rain, vi. 513 ; of violent rain, vi. 517 ; of drought, Vi. 519

Rainbow, vi. 524

Rattles, needed only by the young of man, V. 230

Religion has often been the caiise of evO deeds, i. 84; life hopelessly oppressed by religion before the' time of Epicurus, i. 64 ; the groundless terrors of religion are to be ejected from the mind only by the study of philosophy, ii. 87 — 60 ; re- ligion fostered by a vain dread of the future, ii. 54 ; iii. 87 ; vi. 35 ; Lucretius glories in striving to free the mind from the shackles of religion, i. 931 ; iv. 7 ; ignorance of natural causes generates in mankind a groimdless fear of super- natural powers, V. 87 ; vi. 62 ; Lucretius shows how to set at nought the figments of the poets, i. 110

Republics, institution of, v. 1140

Rings, Samothradan, vi. 1043

Rocks, porous, i. 349

SaSh>n, custom of strewing the theatres with it, u. 416

Sailing, tee Navigation

Samothradan rings, vi. 1042

Saturn, Jupiter saved from being de- voured by him, ii. 638

Satyrs, supposed to inhabit the woods, iv. 582

Savour, see Taste

Sceptics, their doctrine that nothing can be known, refuted, iv. 470

Scyllse, no such monsters exist, y. 890 ; now produced in the imagination, iv. 734

Sea, how it might be increased idTter it was first produced, ii. 1109 ; occupies a large portion of the globe, v. 304 ; foun- tains supply the sea, i. 231, 591 ; vuious reasons why it does not increase in bulk, vi. 608—639; how the water of the sea is sweetened by passing through earth, ii. 474 ; of what sorts of atoms compounded, ii. 471

Seeds, see Atoms

Sense, cannot be possessed bv a body ab- solutely hard and solid, li. 902—918; why no sense remains in the body when the soul is gone from it, iii. 324—337

Senses. Some substances are pleasing to the senses, and others offensive, from the difference of their constituent atoms, ii. 398 — 443 ; senses are the great cri- teria of truth, iv. 479—522 ; nothing external to the senses can refute them, ib.; nor will they refute one another, ib. ; any reasoning against the senses is therefore mere emp^ words, iv. 512; all reasoning depends upon what we perceive by the senses, iv. 435 ; if, there- fore, we could not trust our senses, all reasoning would be vain, iv. 521 ; in many cases the senses appear to be de- ceived, but are not ; they always deliver true evidence to the mind ; any errors that occur, arise from the mistaken ox defective judgment of the mind, iv. 380 —469

Sensible beings proceed from atoms void of sense, ii. 842—870, 871—901

Serpent, casts its skin, iv. 58; dies if touched with human saliva, iv. 640; may be severed without being killed, iii. 658

Shadow, what it is, iv. 369; how our shadow seems to move as we move, iv. 365

Ships, when sailing, seem to those on board to be stationary, and the ol^ects on the shore to move, iv. 388; when first used, v. 1441

Shoes, Sicyonian, iv. 1121

Showers, see Rain

Sicily, what is remarkable in it, besides that it was the birth-place of Empedo- cles, i. 718—731 Sicyoniaa sYioeftt V? . WTV

4^

INDEX.

Sidon, earthquake at, vi. 585

Sifl^t, tee Vision

Singing, began among n>en by imitating the notes of birds, v. 1378

Sisyphus. No Sisyphus among the dead, but many among the living, iii. 1008

Skins of beasts the earliest clothing, v. 1009, 1349

Sleep, a temporary death, iiL 9S2--<94S; how caused, and what is the state of the soul and mind in it, iv. 917—953 ; why sleep follows on taking food, iv. 955; soul is often awake when the body sleeps. iU. 112—117

Smell, the organs of it in different animals delighted or offended by different efflu- via from substances, iv. 675 — 688

Snakes, see Serpent

Snow, tee HaU ; does not fall in the abodes of the gods, iii. 20

Society, commencement of, and its soften- ing influences, v. 1009

Softness. How soft bodies are formed, and of what sort of atoms, i 566 ; ii. 105 ; softness a necessary attendant on sense in bodies, ii. 902

Solidity. How hard or solid bodies are formed, and of what sort of atoms, ii. 99; primary atoms perfectly solid, i. 549, 575, 610 ; ii. 156 ; vacuum must be bounded by what is perfectly solid, i. 514; no substances appear to be perfectly solid except the prmiordial atoms, i. 434, teq.

Solstices, V. 616, 689

Soul. Opinions of the ancients about it were various, but all was uncertainty, i. 113 ; Lucretius endeavours to settle the nature of it, iii. 35 ; soul and mind so intimately connected as to form one substance, 137, 160; yet the soul is un- der the direction of the mind, iii. 140, 145 ; mind acts upon the soul, and the soul upon the body, ih. ; iii. 250 ; iv. 887; Lucretius refutes the doctrine of those who thought the soul merely a resulting harmony of the parts of the body, iii. 98—136 ; soul and mind proved to be alike corporeal, for they act and are acted upon by touch, and sympathize corporeally with the body, iii. 162—177 ; consist of the very smallest atoms, iii. 180 ; their removal detracts nothing perceptibly from the weight or size of the body. iii. 209—231 ; soul and mind consist of four substances, — ^beat, air, a certain attra, and a fourth substance to which Lucretius gives no name, iii. 232

. — 288 ; origin of motion in the mind and soul is from the fourth nameless sub- stance, iii. 246 ; mind and soul cannot be separated from the body without de- struotlon to both, iii. 324 — 350 ; an opinion of Democritus respecting the foul refuted, iii. 371—396 ; soul has less power in retaining life in the body than

the mind, iii. 397 — 417 ; sonl proved to be mortal, and to die with the body, by a series of elaborate arguments, iii. 418 —841 ; existence of the soul in the body compared to that of odour in a fragrant substance, iii. 328. See Mind

Sound, thought by Lucretius to be a cor- poreal substance, i. 355 ; ii. 410; iv. 527; consists of smaller atoms than odoun, iv. 700 : articulate sounds, how formed, iv. 549 ; sounds weakened and confused by passing through much air, iv. 555*; of echoes, iv. 565—580; harshness and sweetness in sounds proceed from the roughness and smoothness of their par- ticles, iv. 553 ; why sounds pass through walls, ^c, when images will not, ir. 597

Southernwood, iv. 124

Sowing and planting. Nature set men the example of them, v. 1360

Space, proved to be boundless, L 957— 982 ; what would be the consequence if it were not boundless, i. 983; empty space and matter ultimately bound one another, i. 1007

Spectres, tee Images. Place of spectres, i. 121 ; spectre of Homer app^ved to Ennius, i. 125

Speech. From inarticulate sounds and gestures, (v. 1021,) men proceeded by degrees to the formation and use (u words, V. 1027; it is not extremely wonderful that men should have framed speech, when even the inferior animids have a sort of speech, v. 1055 — 1089

Spirit, tee Soul, Mmd

Springs, tee Fountain

Square. Why a square tower, seen at a distance, appears round, iv. 354

Stags, tee Deer

Stars, fed by the sther, i. 232 ; v. 525 : of their motions, v. 510 ; may be carried round with the heaven, ih. ; may re- volve while the heaven is stationary, v. 518; falling stars, ii. 209

Statues. Golden statues of youths as orna- ments in houses, ii. 24

Stones porous, i. 349

Storm, tee Tempest

Stymphsdian birds slun by Hercules, v. 32

Substance and vacuum compose the uni- verse, i. 420. See Matter, Atoms

Suicide, men have recourse to it, rather than live in perpetual dread of death, iii. 80

Sun, how formed, v. 433 ; cannot be much larger than it appears, v. 565 ; yet not wonderful that it should emit so much heat, V. 592; why the sun seems to move slower than the moon, the an- cients did not understand, v. 613 ; opinion of Democritus on this point, v. 621 ; why the sun's diurnal course ter- minates in night, V. 649; possible causes

INDEX.

49.5

of his rising at a certain time, v. 655— 678; of the inequality of days and nights, V. 679—702; the sun perish- able, like other things in the world, v. 116; fable of Phaethon and the sun's chariot, v. 397 ; ocular delusion, when the sun rises behind bills, iv. 405, or, apparently, out of the sea, iv. 433 Swans, fabled sweetness of their dying notes, iv. 547, 182, 911

Tantalus. Who is the real Tantalus in life, iii. 993

Tartarus, dreaded more than an infamous life, iii. 42; no man sent down into Tartarus, iii. 979

Taste. Difference of taste in substances arises from the difference in their con- stituent atoms, iv. 619—628; the plea- sure of taste is limited to the palate, iv. 629 ; Vhy that which is bitter to some, may be sweet to .others, iv. 635 — 664 ; atoms of the palate disordered in cer- tain diseases, iv. 665 — 674

Tempest, description of, vi. 281 ; how produced, vi. 96. See Thunder

Theban war, v. 327

Thessalian colour of shell-fish, ii. 500

Things, nature of, the subject of Lucre- tius's poem, i. 26 ; intends, by the ex- pression, the natural and moral world, iii. 1085

Thirst, like hunger, caused by the emis- sion of particles firom the body, iv. 859 ; violent thirst produced by atoms of heat in the stomach, iv. 872

Thought, produced by images, iv. 724; how men think on what they wish, iv. 781, 812

Thrace, horses of Diomede in, v. 30

Thunder, not supernatural, vi. 85—91 ; produced by winds and dense clouds contending, vi. 96 ; or sometimes by the waving and flapping of a cloud, like apiece of canvass, vi. 108; or by the corrasion of clouds, vi. 116; or by the rustling of the wind among the clouds, as among the branches of trees, vi. 132 ; or by the disruption of a cloud, vi. 137 ; or by the clouds moving turaultuously, like waves of the sea, vi. 142 ; or by the hissing of hot wind among watery clouds, vi. 145 ; or by the crackling of a cloud set on fire, vi. 150 ; or by the fall of hail and ice among the clouds, vi. 156; no thunder from a clear sky, vL 99, 247

Thunder and Thunderbolts, composed of fiery and sulphureous, not of windy or watery, particles, vi. 219

Thyrsus. Lucretius struck with the thyr- sus of the hope of praise, i. 922

Time, is nothing of itself, i. 460 ; cannot be contemplated apart from the progress of events, or their epochs, i. 463 ; future time cannot affect the dead more than

the time before their birth affected them, iii. 842

Tityus. No Titjrus among the dead, iii. 997 ; who is a Tityus among the living, iii. 1005

Touch, the chief of the five senses, ii. 434 ; all the other senses are the effect of touch: 1. Seeing, iv. 240; 2. Hearing, iv. 525 ; 3. Taste, iv. 619; 4. Smelling, iv. 675. Nothing but bodily substance can touch or be touched, i. 305 ; mjnd and soul act upon the body by touch, iii. 166 ; substances affect the touch dif- ferently, from the difference in their con- stituent atoms, ii. 408

Towns, tee Cities

Traffic by sea first practised, v. 1441

Transmigration of souls refuted, iii. 754

Trees, their branches sometimes take fire from attrition, L 896; vi. 459. See Plants

Tripod of Apollo, i. 740 ; v. 1 13

Tropics bound the sun's course, v. 616, 689

True and false. Knowledge of what is true, and what is false, is firom the senses, iv. 480 ; see Senses. True cha- racter of a man shown in adversity and trials, iii. 55

Tuscan, see Etruscan

Venus. Lucretius invokes her, i. 1 ; the infiuence of her approach upon the earth and upon animals, i. 6; great source of life and delight, i. 22 ; beloved by Mars, i. 33 ; mocks lovers with images, iv. 1097; diminishes the strength of her votaries, v. 1016

Viper, see Serpent

Vision, caused by means of images that are perpetually fiowing off from the sur- faces of bodies, iv. 215 — 239; how we know the distance of an object, 245 — 256 ; why bright ohjects hurt the sight, iv. 325 ; jaundiced vision, iv. 333 ; vision often seemingly, but not really, deceiv- ed, iv. 354—469

Universe, is boundless, ii. 1048 ; consists of substance and empty space, i. 420 ; that there is substance, our senses teach us ; and there must be space in which substance is, i. 423 ; were there no empty space, substances could not move, i. 330—346, 426—430; nothing that is, as it were, a third nature, dis- tinct ,from body and space, i. 431, 446. See Space

Voice, see Sound. That the voice Is di- vided, as that of a crier among the crowd, iv. 565, 605

Vacuity. Must be vacuity in the world, or matter could not move and act, i. 830 — S46 ; 371—384; many bodies that seem solid have much vacuity in them, L 347 — 358 ; bodies are lighter or heavier aa they have mote ot \««&N«jc>a:'^'<i\SL^«tck.^

496

nn>Ex.

L S59— S68; nenity mut yield an

Minal pMsage to li^t and besry bodies,

fi.239. SeeBpace Vahnies, attracted by tbe smeQ of car-

casiea, ir. 682 VQltamiu, wind ao caOed, ▼. 744

Walls of tlw world, L e. oor beaTens, L 74

Wifter, its flaldity eansed by the smooOi- ness and Tolubility of its atoms, iiL 190; perpetual circulation of water, L 251 ; ▼L 232 ; the mass of water wastes and is renewed, vi. 608—4(20

Weight. Why bodies of eqnal bulk are not all of equal weight, L 359. See Va- cuity

Wells, water in, why colder in summer than in winter, tL &4I

Whirlwinds, fiay, called prettere* by the Greeks, tL 423

Will, freedom of, whence It arises, accord- ing to Lonecxat, iL 256, 292 ; restrain- ing power of the will, iL 276

Wind, a substance, though inrisible, L 278

Wine, why it passes through a strahier sooner than oil, iL 390 ; sometimes dis- persed by lightning, when the vessel ffontaining it remains nninjuxed, vL 231

Wisdom. TlieadTanlagetofthewise. &. 7 ; true wisdom tang^ by Epicurus, r. 10

Words, origin oH See Speech

Wcnrld. This msld was ftasmed by the blind workings of senseleas matter, i. 1020 ; other worids hare probably been formed in the same way, ii. 1064— 1089 ; not made by superior intelligent powers, T. 157, $eq. ; not ruled by such powers, n. 1090—1104 ; could not have been made far the sake of man, t. 157 ; is mortal, iL 1145 ; so ill-contrived that it abounds with fanlts, v. 196

Worms spring firom mud, iL 871

Wormwood, iv. 123

Xerxes, his power could not save from death, iiL 1042

him

Tear, its firar seasons, y. 736

Youth of man and hmse, in the Centaur,

incompatible, v. 881 ; golden statues (tf

youths, iL 24

Zephyr, the herald of spring, t. 737 ; its whisperings among the reeds were the origin of wind music, t. 1381

Zones, torrid and frigid, v. 205

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