Chapter XI: Section 8 (2)

SOCRATES: To be sure I will: the chief theme of my yesterday’s
discourse was the State—how constituted and of what citizens
composed it would seem likely to be most perfect.

TIMAEUS: Yes, Socrates; and what you said of it was very much to
our mind.

SOCRATES: Did we not begin by separating the husbandmen and the
artisans from the class of defenders of the State?

TIMAEUS: Yes.

SOCRATES: And when we had given to each one that single
employment and particular art which was suited to his nature, we
spoke of those who were intended to be our warriors, and said
that they were to be guardians of the city against attacks from
within as well as from without, and to have no other employment;
they were to be merciful in judging their subjects, of whom they
were by nature friends, but fierce to their enemies, when they
came across them in battle.

TIMAEUS: Exactly.

SOCRATES: We said, if I am not mistaken, that the guardians
should be gifted with a temperament in a high degree both
passionate and philosophical; and that then they would be as they
ought to be, gentle to their friends and fierce with their
enemies.

TIMAEUS: Certainly.

SOCRATES: And what did we say of their education? Were they not
to be trained in gymnastic, and music, and all other sorts of
knowledge which were proper for them?

TIMAEUS: Very true.

SOCRATES: And being thus trained they were not to consider gold
or silver or anything else to be their own private property; they
were to be like hired troops, receiving pay for keeping guard
from those who were protected by them—the pay was to be no more
than would suffice for men of simple life; and they were to spend
in common, and to live together in the continual practice of
virtue, which was to be their sole pursuit.

TIMAEUS: That was also said.

SOCRATES: Neither did we forget the women; of whom we declared,
that their natures should be assimilated and brought into harmony
with those of the men, and that common pursuits should be
assigned to them both in time of war and in their ordinary life.

TIMAEUS: That, again, was as you say.

SOCRATES: And what about the procreation of children? Or rather
was not the proposal too singular to be forgotten? for all wives
and children were to be in common, to the intent that no one
should ever know his own child, but they were to imagine that
they were all one family; those who were within a suitable limit
of age were to be brothers and sisters, those who were of an
elder generation parents and grandparents, and those of a
younger, children and grandchildren.

TIMAEUS: Yes, and the proposal is easy to remember, as you say.

SOCRATES: And do you also remember how, with a view of securing
as far as we could the best breed, we said that the chief
magistrates, male and female, should contrive secretly, by the
use of certain lots, so to arrange the nuptial meeting, that the
bad of either sex and the good of either sex might pair with
their like; and there was to be no quarrelling on this account,
for they would imagine that the union was a mere accident, and
was to be attributed to the lot?

TIMAEUS: I remember.

SOCRATES: And you remember how we said that the children of the
good parents were to be educated, and the children of the bad
secretly dispersed among the inferior citizens; and while they
were all growing up the rulers were to be on the look-out, and to
bring up from below in their turn those who were worthy, and
those among themselves who were unworthy were to take the places
of those who came up?

TIMAEUS: True.

SOCRATES: Then have I now given you all the heads of our
yesterday’s discussion? Or is there anything more, my dear
Timaeus, which has been omitted?

TIMAEUS: Nothing, Socrates; it was just as you have said.

SOCRATES: I should like, before proceeding further, to tell you
how I feel about the State which we have described. I might
compare myself to a person who, on beholding beautiful animals
either created by the painter’s art, or, better still, alive but
at rest, is seized with a desire of seeing them in motion or
engaged in some struggle or conflict to which their forms appear
suited; this is my feeling about the State which we have been
describing. There are conflicts which all cities undergo, and I
should like to hear some one tell of our own city carrying on a
struggle against her neighbours, and how she went out to war in a
becoming manner, and when at war showed by the greatness of her
actions and the magnanimity of her words in dealing with other
cities a result worthy of her training and education. Now I,
Critias and Hermocrates, am conscious that I myself should never
be able to celebrate the city and her citizens in a befitting
manner, and I am not surprised at my own incapacity; to me the
wonder is rather that the poets present as well as past are no
better—not that I mean to depreciate them; but every one can see
that they are a tribe of imitators, and will imitate best and
most easily the life in which they have been brought up; while
that which is beyond the range of a man’s education he finds hard
to carry out in action, and still harder adequately to represent
in language. I am aware that the Sophists have plenty of brave
words and fair conceits, but I am afraid that being only
wanderers from one city to another, and having never had
habitations of their own, they may fail in their conception of
philosophers and statesmen, and may not know what they do and say
in time of war, when they are fighting or holding parley with
their enemies. And thus people of your class are the only ones
remaining who are fitted by nature and education to take part at
once both in politics and philosophy. Here is Timaeus, of Locris
in Italy, a city which has admirable laws, and who is himself in
wealth and rank the equal of any of his fellow-citizens; he has
held the most important and honourable offices in his own state,
and, as I believe, has scaled the heights of all philosophy; and
here is Critias, whom every Athenian knows to be no novice in the
matters of which we are speaking; and as to Hermocrates, I am
assured by many witnesses that his genius and education qualify
him to take part in any speculation of the kind. And therefore
yesterday when I saw that you wanted me to describe the formation
of the State, I readily assented, being very well aware, that, if
you only would, none were better qualified to carry the
discussion further, and that when you had engaged our city in a
suitable war, you of all men living could best exhibit her
playing a fitting part. When I had completed my task, I in return
imposed this other task upon you. You conferred together and
agreed to entertain me to-day, as I had entertained you, with a
feast of discourse. Here am I in festive array, and no man can be
more ready for the promised banquet.

HERMOCRATES: And we too, Socrates, as Timaeus says, will not be
wanting in enthusiasm; and there is no excuse for not complying
with your request. As soon as we arrived yesterday at the
guest-chamber of Critias, with whom we are staying, or rather on
our way thither, we talked the matter over, and he told us an
ancient tradition, which I wish, Critias, that you would repeat
to Socrates, so that he may help us to judge whether it will
satisfy his requirements or not.

CRITIAS: I will, if Timaeus, who is our other partner, approves.

TIMAEUS: I quite approve.

CRITIAS: Then listen, Socrates, to a tale which, though strange,
is certainly true, having been attested by Solon, who was the
wisest of the seven sages. He was a relative and a dear friend of
my great-grandfather, Dropides, as he himself says in many
passages of his poems; and he told the story to Critias, my
grandfather, who remembered and repeated it to us. There were of
old, he said, great and marvellous actions of the Athenian city,
which have passed into oblivion through lapse of time and the
destruction of mankind, and one in particular, greater than all
the rest. This we will now rehearse. It will be a fitting
monument of our gratitude to you, and a hymn of praise true and
worthy of the goddess, on this her day of festival.

SOCRATES: Very good. And what is this ancient famous action of
the Athenians, which Critias declared, on the authority of Solon,
to be not a mere legend, but an actual fact?

CRITIAS: I will tell an old-world story which I heard from an
aged man; for Critias, at the time of telling it, was, as he
said, nearly ninety years of age, and I was about ten. Now the
day was that day of the Apaturia which is called the Registration
of Youth, at which, according to custom, our parents gave prizes
for recitations, and the poems of several poets were recited by
us boys, and many of us sang the poems of Solon, which at that
time had not gone out of fashion. One of our tribe, either
because he thought so or to please Critias, said that in his
judgment Solon was not only the wisest of men, but also the
noblest of poets. The old man, as I very well remember,
brightened up at hearing this and said, smiling: Yes, Amynander,
if Solon had only, like other poets, made poetry the business of
his life, and had completed the tale which he brought with him
from Egypt, and had not been compelled, by reason of the factions
and troubles which he found stirring in his own country when he
came home, to attend to other matters, in my opinion he would
have been as famous as Homer or Hesiod, or any poet.

And what was the tale about, Critias? said Amynander.

About the greatest action which the Athenians ever did, and which
ought to have been the most famous, but, through the lapse of
time and the destruction of the actors, it has not come down to
us.

Tell us, said the other, the whole story, and how and from whom
Solon heard this veritable tradition.

He replied:—In the Egyptian Delta, at the head of which the river
Nile divides, there is a certain district which is called the
district of Sais, and the great city of the district is also
called Sais, and is the city from which King Amasis came. The
citizens have a deity for their foundress; she is called in the
Egyptian tongue Neith, and is asserted by them to be the same
whom the Hellenes call Athene; they are great lovers of the
Athenians, and say that they are in some way related to them. To
this city came Solon, and was received there with great honour;
he asked the priests who were most skilful in such matters, about
antiquity, and made the discovery that neither he nor any other
Hellene knew anything worth mentioning about the times of old. On
one occasion, wishing to draw them on to speak of antiquity, he
began to tell about the most ancient things in our part of the
world—about Phoroneus, who is called ‘the first man,’ and about
Niobe; and after the Deluge, of the survival of Deucalion and
Pyrrha; and he traced the genealogy of their descendants, and
reckoning up the dates, tried to compute how many years ago the
events of which he was speaking happened. Thereupon one of the
priests, who was of a very great age, said: O Solon, Solon, you
Hellenes are never anything but children, and there is not an old
man among you. Solon in return asked him what he meant. I mean to
say, he replied, that in mind you are all young; there is no old
opinion handed down among you by ancient tradition, nor any
science which is hoary with age. And I will tell you why. There
have been, and will be again, many destructions of mankind
arising out of many causes; the greatest have been brought about
by the agencies of fire and water, and other lesser ones by
innumerable other causes. There is a story, which even you have
preserved, that once upon a time Paethon, the son of Helios,
having yoked the steeds in his father’s chariot, because he was
not able to drive them in the path of his father, burnt up all
that was upon the earth, and was himself destroyed by a
thunderbolt. Now this has the form of a myth, but really
signifies a declination of the bodies moving in the heavens
around the earth, and a great conflagration of things upon the
earth, which recurs after long intervals; at such times those who
live upon the mountains and in dry and lofty places are more
liable to destruction than those who dwell by rivers or on the
seashore. And from this calamity the Nile, who is our
never-failing saviour, delivers and preserves us. When, on the
other hand, the gods purge the earth with a deluge of water, the
survivors in your country are herdsmen and shepherds who dwell on
the mountains, but those who, like you, live in cities are
carried by the rivers into the sea. Whereas in this land, neither
then nor at any other time, does the water come down from above
on the fields, having always a tendency to come up from below;
for which reason the traditions preserved here are the most
ancient. The fact is, that wherever the extremity of winter frost
or of summer sun does not prevent, mankind exist, sometimes in
greater, sometimes in lesser numbers. And whatever happened
either in your country or in ours, or in any other region of
which we are informed—if there were any actions noble or great or
in any other way remarkable, they have all been written down by
us of old, and are preserved in our temples. Whereas just when
you and other nations are beginning to be provided with letters
and the other requisites of civilized life, after the usual
interval, the stream from heaven, like a pestilence, comes
pouring down, and leaves only those of you who are destitute of
letters and education; and so you have to begin all over again
like children, and know nothing of what happened in ancient
times, either among us or among yourselves. As for those
genealogies of yours which you just now recounted to us, Solon,
they are no better than the tales of children. In the first place
you remember a single deluge only, but there were many previous
ones; in the next place, you do not know that there formerly
dwelt in your land the fairest and noblest race of men which ever
lived, and that you and your whole city are descended from a
small seed or remnant of them which survived. And this was
unknown to you, because, for many generations, the survivors of
that destruction died, leaving no written word. For there was a
time, Solon, before the great deluge of all, when the city which
now is Athens was first in war and in every way the best governed
of all cities, is said to have performed the noblest deeds and to
have had the fairest constitution of any of which tradition
tells, under the face of heaven. Solon marvelled at his words,
and earnestly requested the priests to inform him exactly and in
order about these former citizens. You are welcome to hear about
them, Solon, said the priest, both for your own sake and for that
of your city, and above all, for the sake of the goddess who is
the common patron and parent and educator of both our cities. She
founded your city a thousand years before ours (Observe that
Plato gives the same date (9000 years ago) for the foundation of
Athens and for the repulse of the invasion from Atlantis
(Crit.).), receiving from the Earth and Hephaestus the seed of
your race, and afterwards she founded ours, of which the
constitution is recorded in our sacred registers to be 8000 years
old. As touching your citizens of 9000 years ago, I will briefly
inform you of their laws and of their most famous action; the
exact particulars of the whole we will hereafter go through at
our leisure in the sacred registers themselves. If you compare
these very laws with ours you will find that many of ours are the
counterpart of yours as they were in the olden time. In the first
place, there is the caste of priests, which is separated from all
the others; next, there are the artificers, who ply their several
crafts by themselves and do not intermix; and also there is the
class of shepherds and of hunters, as well as that of husbandmen;
and you will observe, too, that the warriors in Egypt are
distinct from all the other classes, and are commanded by the law
to devote themselves solely to military pursuits; moreover, the
weapons which they carry are shields and spears, a style of
equipment which the goddess taught of Asiatics first to us, as in
your part of the world first to you. Then as to wisdom, do you
observe how our law from the very first made a study of the whole
order of things, extending even to prophecy and medicine which
gives health, out of these divine elements deriving what was
needful for human life, and adding every sort of knowledge which
was akin to them. All this order and arrangement the goddess
first imparted to you when establishing your city; and she chose
the spot of earth in which you were born, because she saw that
the happy temperament of the seasons in that land would produce
the wisest of men. Wherefore the goddess, who was a lover both of
war and of wisdom, selected and first of all settled that spot
which was the most likely to produce men likest herself. And
there you dwelt, having such laws as these and still better ones,
and excelled all mankind in all virtue, as became the children
and disciples of the gods.

Many great and wonderful deeds are recorded of your state in our
histories. But one of them exceeds all the rest in greatness and
valour. For these histories tell of a mighty power which
unprovoked made an expedition against the whole of Europe and
Asia, and to which your city put an end. This power came forth
out of the Atlantic Ocean, for in those days the Atlantic was
navigable; and there was an island situated in front of the
straits which are by you called the Pillars of Heracles; the
island was larger than Libya and Asia put together, and was the
way to other islands, and from these you might pass to the whole
of the opposite continent which surrounded the true ocean; for
this sea which is within the Straits of Heracles is only a
harbour, having a narrow entrance, but that other is a real sea,
and the surrounding land may be most truly called a boundless
continent. Now in this island of Atlantis there was a great and
wonderful empire which had rule over the whole island and several
others, and over parts of the continent, and, furthermore, the
men of Atlantis had subjected the parts of Libya within the
columns of Heracles as far as Egypt, and of Europe as far as
Tyrrhenia. This vast power, gathered into one, endeavoured to
subdue at a blow our country and yours and the whole of the
region within the straits; and then, Solon, your country shone
forth, in the excellence of her virtue and strength, among all
mankind. She was pre-eminent in courage and military skill, and
was the leader of the Hellenes. And when the rest fell off from
her, being compelled to stand alone, after having undergone the
very extremity of danger, she defeated and triumphed over the
invaders, and preserved from slavery those who were not yet
subjugated, and generously liberated all the rest of us who dwell
within the pillars. But afterwards there occurred violent
earthquakes and floods; and in a single day and night of
misfortune all your warlike men in a body sank into the earth,
and the island of Atlantis in like manner disappeared in the
depths of the sea. For which reason the sea in those parts is
impassable and impenetrable, because there is a shoal of mud in
the way; and this was caused by the subsidence of the island.

I have told you briefly, Socrates, what the aged Critias heard
from Solon and related to us. And when you were speaking
yesterday about your city and citizens, the tale which I have
just been repeating to you came into my mind, and I remarked with
astonishment how, by some mysterious coincidence, you agreed in
almost every particular with the narrative of Solon; but I did
not like to speak at the moment. For a long time had elapsed, and
I had forgotten too much; I thought that I must first of all run
over the narrative in my own mind, and then I would speak. And so
I readily assented to your request yesterday, considering that in
all such cases the chief difficulty is to find a tale suitable to
our purpose, and that with such a tale we should be fairly well
provided.

And therefore, as Hermocrates has told you, on my way home
yesterday I at once communicated the tale to my companions as I
remembered it; and after I left them, during the night by
thinking I recovered nearly the whole of it. Truly, as is often
said, the lessons of our childhood make a wonderful impression on
our memories; for I am not sure that I could remember all the
discourse of yesterday, but I should be much surprised if I
forgot any of these things which I have heard very long ago. I
listened at the time with childlike interest to the old man’s
narrative; he was very ready to teach me, and I asked him again
and again to repeat his words, so that like an indelible picture
they were branded into my mind. As soon as the day broke, I
rehearsed them as he spoke them to my companions, that they, as
well as myself, might have something to say. And now, Socrates,
to make an end of my preface, I am ready to tell you the whole
tale. I will give you not only the general heads, but the
particulars, as they were told to me. The city and citizens,
which you yesterday described to us in fiction, we will now
transfer to the world of reality. It shall be the ancient city of
Athens, and we will suppose that the citizens whom you imagined,
were our veritable ancestors, of whom the priest spoke; they will
perfectly harmonize, and there will be no inconsistency in saying
that the citizens of your republic are these ancient Athenians.
Let us divide the subject among us, and all endeavour according
to our ability gracefully to execute the task which you have
imposed upon us. Consider then, Socrates, if this narrative is
suited to the purpose, or whether we should seek for some other
instead.

SOCRATES: And what other, Critias, can we find that will be
better than this, which is natural and suitable to the festival
of the goddess, and has the very great advantage of being a fact
and not a fiction? How or where shall we find another if we
abandon this? We cannot, and therefore you must tell the tale,
and good luck to you; and I in return for my yesterday’s
discourse will now rest and be a listener.

CRITIAS: Let me proceed to explain to you, Socrates, the order in
which we have arranged our entertainment. Our intention is, that
Timaeus, who is the most of an astronomer amongst us, and has
made the nature of the universe his special study, should speak
first, beginning with the generation of the world and going down
to the creation of man; next, I am to receive the men whom he has
created, and of whom some will have profited by the excellent
education which you have given them; and then, in accordance with
the tale of Solon, and equally with his law, we will bring them
into court and make them citizens, as if they were those very
Athenians whom the sacred Egyptian record has recovered from
oblivion, and thenceforward we will speak of them as Athenians
and fellow-citizens.

SOCRATES: I see that I shall receive in my turn a perfect and
splendid feast of reason. And now, Timaeus, you, I suppose,
should speak next, after duly calling upon the Gods.

TIMAEUS: All men, Socrates, who have any degree of right feeling,
at the beginning of every enterprise, whether small or great,
always call upon God. And we, too, who are going to discourse of
the nature of the universe, how created or how existing without
creation, if we be not altogether out of our wits, must invoke
the aid of Gods and Goddesses and pray that our words may be
acceptable to them and consistent with themselves. Let this,
then, be our invocation of the Gods, to which I add an
exhortation of myself to speak in such manner as will be most
intelligible to you, and will most accord with my own intent.

First then, in my judgment, we must make a distinction and ask,
What is that which always is and has no becoming; and what is
that which is always becoming and never is? That which is
apprehended by intelligence and reason is always in the same
state; but that which is conceived by opinion with the help of
sensation and without reason, is always in a process of becoming
and perishing and never really is. Now everything that becomes or
is created must of necessity be created by some cause, for
without a cause nothing can be created. The work of the creator,
whenever he looks to the unchangeable and fashions the form and
nature of his work after an unchangeable pattern, must
necessarily be made fair and perfect; but when he looks to the
created only, and uses a created pattern, it is not fair or
perfect. Was the heaven then or the world, whether called by this
or by any other more appropriate name—assuming the name, I am
asking a question which has to be asked at the beginning of an
enquiry about anything—was the world, I say, always in existence
and without beginning? or created, and had it a beginning?
Created, I reply, being visible and tangible and having a body,
and therefore sensible; and all sensible things are apprehended
by opinion and sense and are in a process of creation and
created. Now that which is created must, as we affirm, of
necessity be created by a cause. But the father and maker of all
this universe is past finding out; and even if we found him, to
tell of him to all men would be impossible. And there is still a
question to be asked about him: Which of the patterns had the
artificer in view when he made the world—the pattern of the
unchangeable, or of that which is created? If the world be indeed
fair and the artificer good, it is manifest that he must have
looked to that which is eternal; but if what cannot be said
without blasphemy is true, then to the created pattern. Every one
will see that he must have looked to the eternal; for the world
is the fairest of creations and he is the best of causes. And
having been created in this way, the world has been framed in the
likeness of that which is apprehended by reason and mind and is
unchangeable, and must therefore of necessity, if this is
admitted, be a copy of something. Now it is all-important that
the beginning of everything should be according to nature. And in
speaking of the copy and the original we may assume that words
are akin to the matter which they describe; when they relate to
the lasting and permanent and intelligible, they ought to be
lasting and unalterable, and, as far as their nature allows,
irrefutable and immovable—nothing less. But when they express
only the copy or likeness and not the eternal things themselves,
they need only be likely and analogous to the real words. As
being is to becoming, so is truth to belief. If then, Socrates,
amid the many opinions about the gods and the generation of the
universe, we are not able to give notions which are altogether
and in every respect exact and consistent with one another, do
not be surprised. Enough, if we adduce probabilities as likely as
any others; for we must remember that I who am the speaker, and
you who are the judges, are only mortal men, and we ought to
accept the tale which is probable and enquire no further.

SOCRATES: Excellent, Timaeus; and we will do precisely as you bid
us. The prelude is charming, and is already accepted by us—may we
beg of you to proceed to the strain?

TIMAEUS: Let me tell you then why the creator made this world of
generation. He was good, and the good can never have any jealousy
of anything. And being free from jealousy, he desired that all
things should be as like himself as they could be. This is in the
truest sense the origin of creation and of the world, as we shall
do well in believing on the testimony of wise men: God desired
that all things should be good and nothing bad, so far as this
was attainable. Wherefore also finding the whole visible sphere
not at rest, but moving in an irregular and disorderly fashion,
out of disorder he brought order, considering that this was in
every way better than the other. Now the deeds of the best could
never be or have been other than the fairest; and the creator,
reflecting on the things which are by nature visible, found that
no unintelligent creature taken as a whole was fairer than the
intelligent taken as a whole; and that intelligence could not be
present in anything which was devoid of soul. For which reason,
when he was framing the universe, he put intelligence in soul,
and soul in body, that he might be the creator of a work which
was by nature fairest and best. Wherefore, using the language of
probability, we may say that the world became a living creature
truly endowed with soul and intelligence by the providence of
God.

This being supposed, let us proceed to the next stage: In the
likeness of what animal did the Creator make the world? It would
be an unworthy thing to liken it to any nature which exists as a
part only; for nothing can be beautiful which is like any
imperfect thing; but let us suppose the world to be the very
image of that whole of which all other animals both individually
and in their tribes are portions. For the original of the
universe contains in itself all intelligible beings, just as this
world comprehends us and all other visible creatures. For the
Deity, intending to make this world like the fairest and most
perfect of intelligible beings, framed one visible animal
comprehending within itself all other animals of a kindred
nature. Are we right in saying that there is one world, or that
they are many and infinite? There must be one only, if the
created copy is to accord with the original. For that which
includes all other intelligible creatures cannot have a second or
companion; in that case there would be need of another living
being which would include both, and of which they would be parts,
and the likeness would be more truly said to resemble not them,
but that other which included them. In order then that the world
might be solitary, like the perfect animal, the creator made not
two worlds or an infinite number of them; but there is and ever
will be one only-begotten and created heaven.

Now that which is created is of necessity corporeal, and also
visible and tangible. And nothing is visible where there is no
fire, or tangible which has no solidity, and nothing is solid
without earth. Wherefore also God in the beginning of creation
made the body of the universe to consist of fire and earth. But
two things cannot be rightly put together without a third; there
must be some bond of union between them. And the fairest bond is
that which makes the most complete fusion of itself and the
things which it combines; and proportion is best adapted to
effect such a union. For whenever in any three numbers, whether
cube or square, there is a mean, which is to the last term what
the first term is to it; and again, when the mean is to the first
term as the last term is to the mean—then the mean becoming first
and last, and the first and last both becoming means, they will
all of them of necessity come to be the same, and having become
the same with one another will be all one. If the universal frame
had been created a surface only and having no depth, a single
mean would have sufficed to bind together itself and the other
terms; but now, as the world must be solid, and solid bodies are
always compacted not by one mean but by two, God placed water and
air in the mean between fire and earth, and made them to have the
same proportion so far as was possible (as fire is to air so is
air to water, and as air is to water so is water to earth); and
thus he bound and put together a visible and tangible heaven. And
for these reasons, and out of such elements which are in number
four, the body of the world was created, and it was harmonized by
proportion, and therefore has the spirit of friendship; and
having been reconciled to itself, it was indissoluble by the hand
of any other than the framer.

Now the creation took up the whole of each of the four elements;
for the Creator compounded the world out of all the fire and all
the water and all the air and all the earth, leaving no part of
any of them nor any power of them outside. His intention was, in
the first place, that the animal should be as far as possible a
perfect whole and of perfect parts: secondly, that it should be
one, leaving no remnants out of which another such world might be
created: and also that it should be free from old age and
unaffected by disease. Considering that if heat and cold and
other powerful forces which unite bodies surround and attack them
from without when they are unprepared, they decompose them, and
by bringing diseases and old age upon them, make them waste
away—for this cause and on these grounds he made the world one
whole, having every part entire, and being therefore perfect and
not liable to old age and disease. And he gave to the world the
figure which was suitable and also natural. Now to the animal
which was to comprehend all animals, that figure was suitable
which comprehends within itself all other figures. Wherefore he
made the world in the form of a globe, round as from a lathe,
having its extremes in every direction equidistant from the
centre, the most perfect and the most like itself of all figures;
for he considered that the like is infinitely fairer than the
unlike. This he finished off, making the surface smooth all round
for many reasons; in the first place, because the living being
had no need of eyes when there was nothing remaining outside him
to be seen; nor of ears when there was nothing to be heard; and
there was no surrounding atmosphere to be breathed; nor would
there have been any use of organs by the help of which he might
receive his food or get rid of what he had already digested,
since there was nothing which went from him or came into him: for
there was nothing beside him. Of design he was created thus, his
own waste providing his own food, and all that he did or suffered
taking place in and by himself. For the Creator conceived that a
being which was self-sufficient would be far more excellent than
one which lacked anything; and, as he had no need to take
anything or defend himself against any one, the Creator did not
think it necessary to bestow upon him hands: nor had he any need
of feet, nor of the whole apparatus of walking; but the movement
suited to his spherical form was assigned to him, being of all
the seven that which is most appropriate to mind and
intelligence; and he was made to move in the same manner and on
the same spot, within his own limits revolving in a circle. All
the other six motions were taken away from him, and he was made
not to partake of their deviations. And as this circular movement
required no feet, the universe was created without legs and
without feet.

Such was the whole plan of the eternal God about the god that was
to be, to whom for this reason he gave a body, smooth and even,
having a surface in every direction equidistant from the centre,
a body entire and perfect, and formed out of perfect bodies. And
in the centre he put the soul, which he diffused throughout the
body, making it also to be the exterior environment of it; and he
made the universe a circle moving in a circle, one and solitary,
yet by reason of its excellence able to converse with itself, and
needing no other friendship or acquaintance. Having these
purposes in view he created the world a blessed god.

Now God did not make the soul after the body, although we are
speaking of them in this order; for having brought them together
he would never have allowed that the elder should be ruled by the
younger; but this is a random manner of speaking which we have,
because somehow we ourselves too are very much under the dominion
of chance. Whereas he made the soul in origin and excellence
prior to and older than the body, to be the ruler and mistress,
of whom the body was to be the subject. And he made her out of
the following elements and on this wise: Out of the indivisible
and unchangeable, and also out of that which is divisible and has
to do with material bodies, he compounded a third and
intermediate kind of essence, partaking of the nature of the same
and of the other, and this compound he placed accordingly in a
mean between the indivisible, and the divisible and material. He
took the three elements of the same, the other, and the essence,
and mingled them into one form, compressing by force the
reluctant and unsociable nature of the other into the same. When
he had mingled them with the essence and out of three made one,
he again divided this whole into as many portions as was fitting,
each portion being a compound of the same, the other, and the
essence. And he proceeded to divide after this manner:—First of
all, he took away one part of the whole (1), and then he
separated a second part which was double the first (2), and then
he took away a third part which was half as much again as the
second and three times as much as the first (3), and then he took
a fourth part which was twice as much as the second (4), and a
fifth part which was three times the third (9), and a sixth part
which was eight times the first (8), and a seventh part which was
twenty-seven times the first (27). After this he filled up the
double intervals (i.e. between 1, 2, 4, 8) and the triple (i.e.
between 1, 3, 9, 27) cutting off yet other portions from the
mixture and placing them in the intervals, so that in each
interval there were two kinds of means, the one exceeding and
exceeded by equal parts of its extremes (as for example 1, 4/3,
2, in which the mean 4/3 is one-third of 1 more than 1, and
one-third of 2 less than 2), the other being that kind of mean
which exceeds and is exceeded by an equal number (e.g.

- over 1, 4/3, 3/2, - over 2, 8/3, 3, - over 4, 16/3, 6, - over 8: and
- over 1, 3/2, 2, - over 3, 9/2, 6, - over 9, 27/2, 18, - over 27.

Where there were intervals of 3/2 and of 4/3 and of 9/8, made by
the connecting terms in the former intervals, he filled up all
the intervals of 4/3 with the interval of 9/8, leaving a fraction
over; and the interval which this fraction expressed was in the
ratio of 256 to 243 (e.g.

243:256::81/64:4/3::243/128:2::81/32:8/3::243/64:4::81/16:16/3::242/32:8.

And thus the whole mixture out of which he cut these portions was
all exhausted by him. This entire compound he divided lengthways
into two parts, which he joined to one another at the centre like
the letter X, and bent them into a circular form, connecting them
with themselves and each other at the point opposite to their
original meeting-point; and, comprehending them in a uniform
revolution upon the same axis, he made the one the outer and the
other the inner circle. Now the motion of the outer circle he
called the motion of the same, and the motion of the inner circle
the motion of the other or diverse. The motion of the same he
carried round by the side (i.e. of the rectangular figure
supposed to be inscribed in the circle of the Same) to the right,
and the motion of the diverse diagonally (i.e. across the
rectangular figure from corner to corner) to the left. And he
gave dominion to the motion of the same and like, for that he
left single and undivided; but the inner motion he divided in six
places and made seven unequal circles having their intervals in
ratios of two and three, three of each, and bade the orbits
proceed in a direction opposite to one another; and three (Sun,
Mercury, Venus) he made to move with equal swiftness, and the
remaining four (Moon, Saturn, Mars, Jupiter) to move with unequal
swiftness to the three and to one another, but in due proportion.

Now when the Creator had framed the soul according to his will,
he formed within her the corporeal universe, and brought the two
together, and united them centre to centre. The soul, interfused
everywhere from the centre to the circumference of heaven, of
which also she is the external envelopment, herself turning in
herself, began a divine beginning of never-ceasing and rational
life enduring throughout all time. The body of heaven is visible,
but the soul is invisible, and partakes of reason and harmony,
and being made by the best of intellectual and everlasting
natures, is the best of things created. And because she is
composed of the same and of the other and of the essence, these
three, and is divided and united in due proportion, and in her
revolutions returns upon herself, the soul, when touching
anything which has essence, whether dispersed in parts or
undivided, is stirred through all her powers, to declare the
sameness or difference of that thing and some other; and to what
individuals are related, and by what affected, and in what way
and how and when, both in the world of generation and in the
world of immutable being. And when reason, which works with equal
truth, whether she be in the circle of the diverse or of the
same—in voiceless silence holding her onward course in the sphere
of the self-moved—when reason, I say, is hovering around the
sensible world and when the circle of the diverse also moving
truly imparts the intimations of sense to the whole soul, then
arise opinions and beliefs sure and certain. But when reason is
concerned with the rational, and the circle of the same moving
smoothly declares it, then intelligence and knowledge are
necessarily perfected. And if any one affirms that in which these
two are found to be other than the soul, he will say the very
opposite of the truth.

When the father and creator saw the creature which he had made
moving and living, the created image of the eternal gods, he
rejoiced, and in his joy determined to make the copy still more
like the original; and as this was eternal, he sought to make the
universe eternal, so far as might be. Now the nature of the ideal
being was everlasting, but to bestow this attribute in its
fulness upon a creature was impossible. Wherefore he resolved to
have a moving image of eternity, and when he set in order the
heaven, he made this image eternal but moving according to
number, while eternity itself rests in unity; and this image we
call time. For there were no days and nights and months and years
before the heaven was created, but when he constructed the heaven
he created them also. They are all parts of time, and the past
and future are created species of time, which we unconsciously
but wrongly transfer to the eternal essence; for we say that he
‘was,’ he ‘is,’ he ‘will be,’ but the truth is that ‘is’ alone is
properly attributed to him, and that ‘was’ and ‘will be’ are only
to be spoken of becoming in time, for they are motions, but that
which is immovably the same cannot become older or younger by
time, nor ever did or has become, or hereafter will be, older or
younger, nor is subject at all to any of those states which
affect moving and sensible things and of which generation is the
cause. These are the forms of time, which imitates eternity and
revolves according to a law of number. Moreover, when we say that
what has become IS become and what becomes IS becoming, and that
what will become IS about to become and that the non-existent IS
non-existent—all these are inaccurate modes of expression
(compare Parmen.). But perhaps this whole subject will be more
suitably discussed on some other occasion.

Time, then, and the heaven came into being at the same instant in
order that, having been created together, if ever there was to be
a dissolution of them, they might be dissolved together. It was
framed after the pattern of the eternal nature, that it might
resemble this as far as was possible; for the pattern exists from
eternity, and the created heaven has been, and is, and will be,
in all time. Such was the mind and thought of God in the creation
of time. The sun and moon and five other stars, which are called
the planets, were created by him in order to distinguish and
preserve the numbers of time; and when he had made their several
bodies, he placed them in the orbits in which the circle of the
other was revolving,—in seven orbits seven stars. First, there
was the moon in the orbit nearest the earth, and next the sun, in
the second orbit above the earth; then came the morning star and
the star sacred to Hermes, moving in orbits which have an equal
swiftness with the sun, but in an opposite direction; and this is
the reason why the sun and Hermes and Lucifer overtake and are
overtaken by each other. To enumerate the places which he
assigned to the other stars, and to give all the reasons why he
assigned them, although a secondary matter, would give more
trouble than the primary. These things at some future time, when
we are at leisure, may have the consideration which they deserve,
but not at present.

Now, when all the stars which were necessary to the creation of
time had attained a motion suitable to them, and had become
living creatures having bodies fastened by vital chains, and
learnt their appointed task, moving in the motion of the diverse,
which is diagonal, and passes through and is governed by the
motion of the same, they revolved, some in a larger and some in a
lesser orbit—those which had the lesser orbit revolving faster,
and those which had the larger more slowly. Now by reason of the
motion of the same, those which revolved fastest appeared to be
overtaken by those which moved slower although they really
overtook them; for the motion of the same made them all turn in a
spiral, and, because some went one way and some another, that
which receded most slowly from the sphere of the same, which was
the swiftest, appeared to follow it most nearly. That there might
be some visible measure of their relative swiftness and slowness
as they proceeded in their eight courses, God lighted a fire,
which we now call the sun, in the second from the earth of these
orbits, that it might give light to the whole of heaven, and that
the animals, as many as nature intended, might participate in
number, learning arithmetic from the revolution of the same and
the like. Thus then, and for this reason the night and the day
were created, being the period of the one most intelligent
revolution. And the month is accomplished when the moon has
completed her orbit and overtaken the sun, and the year when the
sun has completed his own orbit. Mankind, with hardly an
exception, have not remarked the periods of the other stars, and
they have no name for them, and do not measure them against one
another by the help of number, and hence they can scarcely be
said to know that their wanderings, being infinite in number and
admirable for their variety, make up time. And yet there is no
difficulty in seeing that the perfect number of time fulfils the
perfect year when all the eight revolutions, having their
relative degrees of swiftness, are accomplished together and
attain their completion at the same time, measured by the
rotation of the same and equally moving. After this manner, and
for these reasons, came into being such of the stars as in their
heavenly progress received reversals of motion, to the end that
the created heaven might imitate the eternal nature, and be as
like as possible to the perfect and intelligible animal.