ra&ffiHN&vHW 
 
 4 ' 1 '-'-" 
 
 MH
 
 , 
 LUCRETIUS.
 
 LUCRETIUS 
 
 ON 
 
 THE NATURE OF THINGS 
 
 LITERALLY TRANSLATED BY THE 
 
 REV. JOHN SELBY WATSON, M.A. 
 
 WITH THE POETICAL VERSION OF 
 JOHN MASON GOOD. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 GEORGE BELL & SONS, YORK ST., COVENT GARDEN, 
 
 AND NEW YORK. 
 
 1893.
 
 LONDON : 
 REPRINTED FIK'H THE STEREOTYPE PLATES BY WM. CLOWES & SONS, LTD., 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. 

 
 REMA 
 
 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 Roman by birth, is inferred from the pas- 
 sages in his poem in which he speaks of the Roman world as 
 his country, 1 and of the Roman language as his native tongue. 1 
 
 As to the time of his birth, it is stated by Eusebius in his 
 Chronicon, that he was born in the second year of the hundred 
 and seventy-first 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 wereijjjo 
 elapse before the birth of Virgil, and four before that of Julius 
 Caesar. His style, 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. 3 
 
 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, Ofella, 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 4 and Caesar, 5 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 
 
 1 Nam neque nos agere hoc patriai tempo^e in'quo, etc. i. 42. 
 
 1 I. 31; iii. 259. I. 118. 
 
 4 Cic. Brut. c. 48. * u. c. i. 18; iv 7-
 
 VI REMARKS ON THB 
 
 continued in the equestrian or even plebeian rank, in whicl 
 he was born. 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 Zeno, 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 or where he studied them is not now to be 
 ascertained. 
 
 Dunlop, however, asserts that "Lucretius teas sent, with 
 other young Romans of rank, to study at Athens." l 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, 2 at a time when the 
 Roman commonwealth was in a disturbed state ; but whether 
 the disorders to which he alludes 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. 3 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 virilis. 
 
 1 Hist, of Rom. Lit. vol. i. p. 417. 2 I. 42. 
 
 1 Epist. Dissuas. ad Rufinum, c. 22, toir.. xi. p. 245 ed. Veron.
 
 LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. Tli 
 
 That Cicero corrected what he wrote, there is, except from 
 the passage in Eusebius, no indication. 
 
 From a passage in Varro, 1 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 : ^Etheris et terras genitabile 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, 2 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, 3 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, 4 
 
 " Non ego cuncta meis amplecti versibus opto; 
 Non mihi si linguae centum sint oraque centum, 
 Ferrea vox," 
 
 1 De L. L. v. p. 27, ed. Spengel. * vi. 45, 91, 
 
 3 Inst. Or. iii. 1, 4. 4 II. 42.
 
 Viii REMARKS ON THE 
 
 says, " The verses are Lucretius's ; but he has cenea vox, not 
 ferrea;" 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, 1 " ex quo primum Lucretii carmen, studiosius perlege- 
 rim 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 
 inanum agnoscendam, ideoque hunc etiam auctorem iis annu- 
 merandum esse, quorum scripta a serioribus multis in locis 
 mutata, aucta vel contracta, emendata vel corrupta, denique 
 longe alia ab ea, quam auctor ipsis dederit, forma 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 Servi us 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 
 Lnmbinus and others think, Caius Memmius Gemellus, a 
 Roman knight, who is described by Cicero 2 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 
 
 1 De Lucretii Carmine, p. 6, * Brut. 70.
 
 LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. IX 
 
 doing injustice to his ability by hi? want of industry." He 
 became prastor, and after his praetorship had the province of 
 Bithynia, to which he was accompanied by Catullus the poet. 
 Being supported by Caasar, he stood for the consulship, but 
 was unsuccessful, and, after being accused and condemned of 
 bribery, went into exile at Patrae, 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. 1 
 
 The general voice of criticism has awarded to Lucretius 
 high praise as a poet. The earliest notice which we find of 
 his works, is that of Cicero in a letter to his brother Quintus, 2 
 in which he says, as the passage stands in Ernesti, Lucretii 
 poemata, ut scribis, ita sunt; non multis luminibus ingenii, 
 multce tarnen 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. 3 Cicero, how- 
 ever, if we read his words rightly, seems hardly to do justice 
 to the poet, 4 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. Statius did him more justice, when he spoke of the 
 docti furor arduus Lucrett? " the lofty rage of the learned 
 Lucretius." 6 Ovid thoroughly understood his merit, and pre- 
 dicted that his poem was destined to be immortal : 
 
 Carmina sublimis tune sunt peritura Lucreti, 
 Exitio terras cum dabit una dies. 7 
 
 1 See Lambinus in Prolegom. * Ad Quint. Frat. ii. 11. 
 
 3 Tanaquil Faber proposed to read, omitting the non, "lita sunt 
 multis luminibus," $c., which Ernesti, as Eichstadt remarks, justly 
 condemns. Who indeed could endure the expression luminibus lineret 
 
 * See Warton's Essay on Pope, vol. ii. p. 328. 
 5 Stat. Sylv. ii. 7, 76. 
 
 This expression Gray seems to have had in his thoughts, when 
 he wrote, 
 
 Chill penury repress'd their noble rage. 
 i Ainor. i. 15, 23. 
 
 b
 
 X REMARKS ON THE 
 
 Cornelius Nepos l ranks him in elegance with Catullus ; foi 
 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 2 gives him similar praise, saying that he is elegans 
 in sud materid, elegant in his peculiar department, though he 
 thinks him "difficult" for the student. Aulus Gellius 3 calls 
 him a poet " excelling ingenio etfacundia, in genius and force 
 of language;" Serenus Sammonicus 4 styles him "the great 
 Lucretius;" and Velleius Paterculus, 5 Vitruvius, 6 Seneca, 7 
 Macrobius, 8 and Pliny the younger, 9 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 10 and Tacitus. 11 
 
 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 Amicitia introduces L- 
 lius saying 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 
 
 1 Vit. Att. xii. 4. * Instit. Or. x. 1. 3 Noct. Alt. i. 21. 
 
 4 De Medic, ver. 614. s Hist. Rom. ii. 36. Lib. ix. 3. 
 7 De Tranq. An. sect. 2; Ep. xcv. ex. * Sat. vi. '2. 
 
 Ep. iv. 18. Eleg. ii. 25, 29. Dial, dc Or. 23. Cap. *.
 
 LIFE AND POEM OF 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 moderns have certainly not been less willing to praise 
 Lucretius than the ancients. Barthius ' and Turnehus 2 com- 
 mend the attractive simplicity of his antique Latinity; Cri- 
 nitus and Casaubon 3 speak of his style in a similar manner ; 
 and Julius Scaliger 4 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, 5 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 
 n bold relief." " If Lucretius had not been spoiled by the 
 Epicurean system," says Lord Byron, 6 " 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 : 7 
 
 " If I am not mistaken," says he, " the distinguishing cha- 
 
 Advers xxiii. 1. 2 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. 50, and vol. ii. p. 105, note. ' Letter on Bovrles. 
 Preface to his second Miscellany of Translations, 
 b *
 
 lii BFMARK9 ON THE 
 
 racter of Lucretius, I mean of his soul and genius, is a certain 
 kind of noble pride, and positive assertion of his own opinions. 
 He is every where confident of his own reason, and assuming 
 an absolute command, not only over his vulgar readers, but 
 even his patron Memmius ; for he is always bidding him at- 
 tend, as if he had the rod over him, and using a magisterial 
 authority, while he instructs him. * * * He seems to disdain 
 all manner of replies, and is so confident of his cause, that he 
 is beforehand with his antagonists ; urging for them whatever 
 he imagined they could say, and leaving them, as he supposes, 
 without an objection for the future. All this too with so 
 much scorn and indignation, as if he were assured of the tri- 
 umph before he entered into the lists. 
 
 " From this sublime and daring genius of his, it must of 
 necessity come to pass, that his thoughts must be masculine, 
 full of argumentation, and that sufficiently warm. From the 
 same fiery temper proceeds the loftiness of his expressions, 
 and the perpetual torrent of his verse, when the barrenness 
 of his subject does not too much restrain the quickness of his 
 fancy. For there is no doubt to be made, but that he could 
 have been every where as poetical as he is in his descriptions, 
 and in the moral part of his philosophy, if he had not aimed 
 more to instruct in his system of nature, than to delight." 
 
 With regard to the subject of his poem, Lucretius is to be 
 contemplated as a natural and moral philosopher. 
 
 The physical part of his philosophy, and most, indeed, of the 
 moral part, he took from Epicurus, who, as Cicero 1 observes, 
 had previously adopted his physics from Democritus. Of this, 
 the great principle is, that nothing can proceed from nothing," 1 
 and th.it, consequently, this world, in which we live, and 
 every other object in the 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, 
 mo\ ing or falling through unlimited space ; for that space is 
 unlimited is by Lucretius elaborately proved. 3 
 
 These atoms are infrangible and indestructible; for mattei 
 is not infinitely divisible ; there must be a point at which di- 
 
 1 De Fin. i. 6. * I. 156, 544. * I. 967.
 
 LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. xiii 
 
 vision ends. They are hard and solid, or they would l>e un- . 
 able to endure agitation and attrition throughout an infinity 
 of ages. 1 They are of different shapes, suited for the forma- 
 tion of various substances by combination. 2 The number of 
 their forms, however, is limited ; but the number of each form 
 is infinite. 3 
 
 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. 4 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 funditus imum; 5 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. 6 It 
 was necessary, therefore, to make some of them deviate from 
 the straight or perpendicular line, and it is accordingly as- 
 sumed that some do deviate from it. " This supposition," 
 says Cicero, 7 " 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, 8 but at length 
 
 1 I 484635. * II. 94107. II. 426580. 
 
 * II. 7987. I. 992. II. 225, seq. ' De Fin. i. . 
 I. 1023, seq.; V. 188195.
 
 EEMARKS ON 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. 1 
 
 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. 2 
 
 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. s 
 
 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 
 
 1 Ver. 780, seq. z I. 347383, et seq. 
 
 1 On the Soul, see book iii. passim.
 
 LIFE AND POEM OF 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 by 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 flying 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. 1 
 
 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. 2 
 
 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? 3 
 
 The motions and combinations of atoms being established, 
 all natural phenomena, as thunder, lightning, rain, earth- 
 quakes, are easily shown to arise from their changes of place 
 and effects on one another. 4 
 
 Even were it not demonstrable that the world was for- 
 tuitously formed by the coalescence of atoms, it might yet be I 
 safely affirmed, from the numerous faults apparent in it, and , 
 from the various causes of suffering to animal life which it ) 
 
 1 Of images, &c. see book iv. passim. a IV. 825. 
 
 3 IV. 380523. * See book v.
 
 xn REMARKS ON THE 
 
 l^ontuins, that it was not made by divine wisdom as an abode 
 for living creatures. 1 It sprung into being casually ; and 
 nimals, that casually sprung from it, make the best of that 
 bode 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. 8 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 
 tilings 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 
 disrupturcd, 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 moralist was, that he freed men from 
 the terrors of death, and of suffering after death. The soul, 
 ays 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 lus own existence, as an individual being, is no more. He 
 1 V. 196, M*. * II. 1075.
 
 LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. XV11 
 
 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 dies at an advanced age, may be satisfied that he has had 
 so long opportunity for those enjoyments of which no man 
 fails toobtain some. After a certain period life offers nothing 
 new, and why should we seek to prolong it? 1 
 
 The greatest enjoyment of life consists in tranquil plea- v 
 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"- 1 
 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. 2 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 
 homing to find it in the pursuit of ,the splendours and distinc- 
 tions of the world. 3 
 
 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 Epicu-us, as certainly existing, 4 and 
 enjoying a state of tranquil f ;licity, unconcerned about the 
 affairs of the world, and unaffected by human good or human 
 evil. 5 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. 6 
 
 ' Book iii., sub Jin. II. 20-60. II. 1-18. 
 
 4 VI. 76. In ii. 599, he notices that the earth is called magna 
 deum Mater, Materque ferarum, as if gods and beasts had alike sprung 
 from her. * 644651. V. 1 168, **.
 
 REMARKS ON THE 
 
 The first edition of Lucretius was primed at Brescia, by Fer- 
 andus, without date, but, as Wakefield and others think, about 
 the year 1470. It is of all editiones 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- 
 busT 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, (loll,) had appeared at Bononia the 
 edition of Baptists 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 Lacl.mann l to have 
 been greatly improved from the revised text of Michael Ma- 
 rullus, which was published from his manuscripts after his 
 death, by Petrus Candidas, 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 inconsulta 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. 
 
 1 Prolegom. in Notas, p. 11.
 
 LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. X1JS 
 
 There were some other editions, but of not much account, 
 between Gifanius's and that of Tanaquil Faber, which wag 
 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 findsone in hiscomment- 
 ary, he is very ready to profit by all Lambinus's instructions. 
 His interpretatio, 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 rectius interpretatus est quam 
 scripsit, in philosophia explicandA sane diligens, sed linguae 
 Latinae 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 
 Preigerus, 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 suffering to remain. 
 I will give one instance. In Lambinus and Creech the 863rd 
 verse of the third book stands thus : 
 
 Interrupta 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 
 nostris? It is in vain to seek for any thing in what precedes, 
 and he must consult Wakefield's notes to find that, according
 
 M REMARKS ON THE 
 
 to Wakefield's notion, rebus must be supplied. How nuch 
 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 inscitia 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 explanations of passages are Wakefield's. 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 
 faithful, but 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, saying how much 
 he was pleased that the entire work had fallen to more vigor- 
 ous 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 stiff and awkward ; and the licences 
 which he has taken with the original are almost 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 proso 
 translation, which Good calls Guernier's, but which was the 
 work of an unknown hand. Guernier, with others, furnished 
 the plates. The version is but indifferent. 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 1808, 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 befoi'e 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 stiff. 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 
 iecond-hand. The whole book reminds the reader of the com-
 
 REMARKS ON THE 
 
 menceineut of his well-known prologue, which Lord Byron, 
 says Moore, unnecessarily travestied : 
 
 When energizing objects 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 Marolles, 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- 
 trymen 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 riaht I can, and to translate him. to the best advantage.
 
 LIFE AND POEM OF LUCRETIUS. 
 
 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- 
 Lucretius, 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 h<> 
 not unluckily, as Voltaire observes, when he atiacted Lucre- { 
 tins attacked Newton.
 
 LUCEETIUS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Lucretius invokes Venus as the great cause of production, ver. 1 44. He 
 then dedicates his work to Memmius ; praises Epicurus, 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 1.59. 
 Entering upon his subject, he shows, first, that nothing can proceed from 
 nothing, and that nothing can return to nothing, 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, that there is vacuum or empty space, ver. 
 330430. 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 Empedocles, who said that 
 the universe was compounded of the four elements, and Anaxagoras, who 
 advocated the homaeomeria, ver. 713 919. He then contends that the 
 universe is boundless, that atoms are infinite in number, 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 downwanls, 
 and light bodies upwards ; and concludes with a praise of philosophy, 
 which assists mankind to penetrate the mysteries of nature.
 
 LUCRETIUS. i. 1- 
 
 BOC N riFUL Venus, ' mother of the race of JEneas,' 2 delight 
 of gods and men, who, beneath the gliding constellations 
 of heaven, 3 fillest with life 4 the ship-bearing sea and the 
 fruit-producing earth; 6 since by thy influence every kind of 
 
 O bountiful Venus.] Ver. 2. Alma Venua. The word means kind, 
 bountiful, benignant, nourishing, 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. 7, alme 
 No/, Hor. Carm. Szsc. 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 ccelo, 
 jEneadum genetrix, hie habito alma Venus. 
 
 "Others," says Creech, "interpret Ma, fa-cunda, grata; I prefel 
 beniyna, a word which expresses all the other virtues of Venus, to 
 which Lucretushas regard not less than to her fecundity." 
 
 2 Mother of the race of jEneas.] Ver. 1. ^Eneadam genetrix. He 
 thus names the Romans, as being descended from ./Eneas. Virgil 
 and Ovid give them the same appellation. 
 
 1 Gliding constellations of heaven.] Ver. 2. Cceli labentia signa. 
 The same as tigna labentia ceelo, or in ccelo ; the form of expression 
 which Virgil uses, ^En- iii. 515, Sidera cuncta notattacito labentia caelo. 
 
 4 Fillest with life.] Ver. 4. Concelebras. The onlv question as to 
 the translation of this word is, whether it is to be rendered risitest fre- 
 quently, or renderest populous, that is, fittest with animal life. The latter 
 signification is, in my opinion, infinitely better adapted to what fol- 
 lows, than the former ; and I have the oest of the commentators on 
 my side. Thus Pius : Auges tuo dulci initu, ut ita multiplicata celebria 
 tint tt populosa. Lambinus : Celebres [terras] reddis. Creech : Reples 
 et exornat. 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 con, 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 mitter in 
 yenerai to render the earth and sea fruitful. 
 
 ' The ship-bearing sea and the fruit-producing earth.] Ver. 3. 
 Qutf mars navigentm, qua terras frugiferentes Conceltbras. The words 
 are rendered literally, except that for the relative pronoun is substi- 
 tuted the copulative conjunction. Evelyn gives it with eoval exact- 
 ness: 
 
 \Tomfort bring and mirth 
 
 To the ship-bearing seas, corn-bearing earth. 
 Fyget, however, means fruits of the earth in general.
 
 B. i. 525. LUCRETIUS. 
 
 living creature is conceived, and, springing forth, hails the 
 light of the sun. 1 Thee, goddess, thee the winds flee ; ie- 
 fore thee, and thy approach, the clouds of heaven disperse; for 
 thee the variegated earth 2 puts forth 3 her fragrant flowers; 
 on thee the waters of ocean smile, and the calmed heaven 
 beams with effulgent 4 light. For, as soon as the vernal face 
 of day 5 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 
 them. In fine, throughout seas, and mountains, and whelming 
 rivers, 6 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 7 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 8 in this my song, which I am essaying 
 
 1 Hails the light of the suru] Ver. 5. Visitque lumina solis. " Ex- 
 oritur, prodit in lucem, hac lucis usurS frui incipit." Lambinus. 
 
 2 Variegated earth.] Ver. 7- Deedala tellus. This is the exact sig- 
 nification of the word. " Why the earth is called Deedala hy Lu- 
 cretius, as well as Minerva by Ennius, and Circe by Virgil, from 
 variety of objects and contrivances, it is easy to understand, since 
 $aia\\tiv, in Greek, signifies to vary." Festvt. 
 
 s Puts forth.] Ver. 7- Submittit. " Submittere " is "de sub mit- 
 tere," says Faber, and so says Creech, whom Wakefield follows; 
 interpreting " sends from her lap, causes to spring de sub solo, from 
 underneath the ground." 
 
 4 Effulgent.] Ver. 9. Diffiiso. We have the same phrase, iii. 22, 
 JEther Integer et large diffiiso famine ridet. 
 
 Vernal face of day.] Ver. 10. Species verna diet. The same as 
 the face of vernal day ; i. e. when the spring has arrived. Species for 
 mifais, or aspect. Comp. iv. 243. 
 
 Whelming rivers.] Ver. 18. Flu'dosoue 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- Qua quoniam sola 
 yubernas. Literally, who. since thou alone governest. To avoid stiffness, 
 I have often rendered the relative pronoun in this way. 
 
 J desire thee to be my associate.] Ver. 25. Te sociam studeo es$. 
 
 B 2
 
 4 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 26-38. 
 
 to compose on the NATURE OF THINGS,' for the instruction of 
 my friend Memmius, 2 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 3 
 himself upon thy lap, vanquished by the eternal wound of 
 love;* and thus looking up, his graceful neck 5 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 gods take no interest in human af- 
 fairs; but it is to be considered that Lucretius here writes in the 
 character of a poet, not of a philosopher. Faber. 
 
 1 NATURE OF THINGS.] Ver. 26. Rerum natur&. By this expression 
 Lucretius 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 Acherontis avari. 
 
 1 Memmius.] Ver. 27. Memmiadee nostro. Properly the son of 
 Memmius ; or one of the Memmtada, 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. 
 Seethe Life of Lucretius prefixed to this translation. 
 
 * Since Mars who controls often flings, <?rc.] Ver. 33. Quo- 
 niam belli fera mcenera Manors Armipotens regit, in gremium qui senpe 
 tuum se, fcc. 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 
 4ingi himself, &c, 
 
 4 Eternal wound of love.] Ver. 35. Sterna vulnere amoris. Virgil 
 borrows this expression : Cum Juno, seternum 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 
 gle epithet than tbis. Among the Latins the word teres included 
 
 deas of kngth, roundness, and smoothness. Hor. Od. ii. 4, 21. 
 Brachia et vultum teretesque suras Integer laudo.
 
 B. I 39 -S3. LUCRETIUS. 5 
 
 lips. Bending over him, O goddess, as he reposes, to embrace 
 him l 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 2 with tranquil 
 mind, in this untmnquil time 3 of our country ; nor can the 
 illustrious scion of Memmius, at such a crisis, desert the com- 
 mon interest. 
 
 For what remains, 4 lend me, O Memmius, thy unprejudiced 
 ears, 5 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 6 of heaven and the gods, and unfold to thee the first 
 principles of all things, 7 from which nature produces, developes, 
 and sustains all, and into which she again resolves them at 
 their dissolution : 8 these, in explaining our subject, we are 
 accustomed to call matter, and the generative bodies of things, 
 
 1 Bending over him as he reposes, to embrace him.] Ver. 39. 
 Hunc recubantem circumfusa sitper. Literally, poured round above him 
 reclining. To make readable English, I was obliged to amplify a 
 little. 
 
 2 Pursue our task.] Ver. 42. Agere hoc. " Hoc ipsum quod sus- 
 cepimus, attente et summa cura agere." Lambinus. So also Faber. 
 Comp. iv. 970. 
 
 5 Tranquil mind, in thisuntranquil time.] Ver. 42. Tempore inigtio 
 <eqno animo. I have endeavoured to preserve a resemblance to the 
 original. 
 
 4 For what remains.] Ver. 45. Quod superest. " He calls for his 
 friend's attention. By quod superest, it is to be observed, he means 
 quod reliquum est. He often uses the same expression. Thus lib. ii. 
 39, Quod superest, animo quoque nil prodesse putandum. And vi. 
 998, Quod superest, facile hinc ratio reddetur, Sfc." Lambinus. Lu- 
 cretius sometimes, however, uses quod superest in the sense of prceterea 
 or denique. 
 
 5 Unprejudiced ears.] Ver. 45. Vacuas aures. Free alike from 
 business and from prejudice. 
 
 6 The whole system.] Ver. 49. Summ&ratione. "(Totanatura." Creech. 
 
 T First principles of all things.] Ver. 50. Rerum primor dia. "Re- 
 rum principia." Lambinus. Lucretius uses primordia and principia 
 indifferently, (Forb. ad iii. 263,) for the original atoms, or primary par- 
 ticles of all things. Modern chymists 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 the gender to 
 the neuter, after having just before used res, which creates some 
 obscurity.
 
 6 LUCRETIUS. T. 5469. 
 
 and i J 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 1 must necessarily, o1 
 iteelf, 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 propitiated by ser- 
 vices from the good, nor affected with anger against the bad.] 
 When the life of men 2 lay foully grovelling before our eyes, 
 crushed beneath the weight of a Religion, 3 who displayed her 
 head from the regions of the sky, lowering over mortals with 
 terrible aspect, a man of Greece 4 was the first that dared 
 to raise mortal eyes against her, and first to make a stand 
 against her. Him neither tales of gods, 5 nor thunderbolts, nor 
 
 1 For the whole nature of the gods, *c.] Ver. 57. The passage en- 
 closed in brackets is considered by Faber, Bentley, Wakefield, 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, by 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, $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, sub Jin. But, as Burke indicates, the terror 
 of the picture is produced, not by exactly portraying the features 
 of the phantom, but by leaving them obscure and undefined. 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 Siiperstition. 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 the term Religion in their versions. 
 
 * man of ^ reece -l v er. 66- Grains homo. Epicurus. 
 
 Tales of gods.] Ver. 69. Fama debm. De diis fabulae." 
 c*. The reader will find in Wakefield's edition fana dttm, fron
 
 B. i. 7093. 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 whole 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 2 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 3 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, 4 concealing tha 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 eareaia, and 
 which Lachmann has adopted. I must say that i think the old/awa 
 to be preferred, as being a word of much larger meaning. 
 
 1 Beyond the flaming battlements, 4r^.] Ver. 7*. Extra flammantia 
 mcenia mundi. " He pass'd the flaming bounds of space and time." 
 Gray, Progr. of Poesy. " Not even the whole world is sufficient for 
 contemplation and meditation in human intellectual excursion, but 
 the thoughts often pass beyond the bounds of that whole which sur- 
 rounds us. " Longinus, Sect. xxxv. 
 
 2 His victory.] " Victoria Epicuri." Lambinus. 
 
 3 That much-extolled Religion.] Ver. 83. Ilia Religio. The old 
 reading was olim, but ilia seems infinitely better. 
 
 4 Close by him.] Ver. 91. Hune 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 contemplating the priests conceal- 
 ing their knives near her father, not as considering whether they 
 irere concealing them on account of << / father or not.
 
 LUCRETIUS. i- 94~ 118 > 
 
 on herv knees, sank to the earth ; nor could it, at such 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 
 that, the solemn service of sacrifice being performed, she might 
 be accompanied with the loud bridal hymn ; but spotless, 
 1 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 .' 
 
 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 1 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, 2 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 1 
 
 1 I, even now, could invent] Ver. 105. I, 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. Nascentibus insinu- 
 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 
 boilirs? 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 they but the questions of men born blind, 
 disclosing the nature of light?" See more on this subject, iii. 670,. 
 0*9 
 
 Enuius.l 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 only 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, (as 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, 1 of what the soul and the nature of the mind 
 consist, and what it is, which, 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. 
 
 Nor 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. Pers. Sat. vi. 10. Cicero al- 
 ludes to the appearance of the shade of Horpar to him, Quaest. Acad. 
 iv. 16. 
 
 1 Scrutinizing examination.] Ver. 131. Ratione sagaci. Lucretius 
 is fond of this word. " Sagaces proprife canes dicuntur, quia inest 
 in eis vis odorandi eximia." Lambinus. The derivation is from 
 taffire, to perceive acutely. 
 
 2 Clear cold nights.] Ver. 143. The original is only nodes serenas. 
 The critics are all in doubt what sort of nights to understand. Mu- 
 retus (Var. Lect. xviii. 13) thinks they are summer nights. Wake- 
 field, with Creech, supposes that they are merely tranquil nights, 
 free from noise, and suitable for study. But serenus must surely 
 have relation to the state of the atmosphere, and I think that Evelya 
 had a right notion of the word when he gave the passage thus : 
 
 But yet thy worth, and the felicity
 
 10 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 145160 
 
 verse, 1 I may succeed in displaying to thy mind those cleat 
 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, 2 that must 
 dispel, but reason and the contemplation of nature; 3 of 
 which our first princip'e shall hence take its commence- 
 ment, THAT NOTHING 18 EVER DIVINELY 4 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, 5 we 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. 
 
 For if things came forth from nothing, 6 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. 
 
 1 With what possible verse.] Ver. 144. Quo carmine demttm. 
 With what verse at length. 
 
 2 Bright shafts of day.] Ver. 148. Lucida tela diet. " Rays of 
 the sun. Thus the Greeks, /3tXij ijtXtoio." Faber. 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. Naturae species. " Species, 
 1} Sfwpia. i) &a, that is, contemplation." Lambinus. So Faber. Wake- 
 field would rather make it form or image ; but who will second 
 him? 
 
 4 Divinely.] Ver. 151. Divinitus. That 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 with their production. 
 
 * Nothing can be produced from nothing.] Ver. 156. Nil posse 
 creari de nihUo. It is ta 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 create, 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 effect in one of his notes. 
 
 * If things came forth from nothing, Ac.] Ver. 160. Nam ti at 
 nihilo Jierent, &c. If things could come from nothing, then, wher- 
 
 ^ver, in the midst of things, there might be nothing existent, some- 
 hina misht Uwnce arise; wherever there might be u vacuum (for
 
 B.I. 161 186. LUCRETIUS. H 
 
 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 thia 
 cause all things 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, 1 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 2 for the growth of things, if they could grow 
 
 which he afterwards argues,) something might spring up from that 
 vacuum. 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 suffice to pro- 
 duce abundance of entities. The rest of the paragraph follows of 
 course. This is his first argument on this head. I have translated 
 fierent " came forth," as being more suitable to what follows. 
 
 1 The rose put forth in spring.] Ver. 175. This is his second 
 argument from time. If things may spring up in any place from 
 nothing, why should they not also spring up at any time from no- 
 thing? 
 
 * For the coming together of seed.] Ver. 185. His third aryu-
 
 12 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 187210. 
 
 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 1 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 2 a 
 size that they might ford the sea on foot, 3 and rend great moun- 
 tains with their hands, and outlast in existence many ages of 
 human life, if it be not because certain matter has been assigned 
 tor 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 4 the 
 Uncultivated, and yield to our hands better fruits, we may see 
 
 ment from natural growth. If things might grow up from nothing, 
 why might they not be enlarged, and enlarged suddenly, from 
 nothing? 
 
 1 Without certain rains, *rc.] Ver. 193. His fourth argument from 
 the necessity of certain bodies for the nutriment of others. If things can- 
 not even grow, after they had arisen, without the presence of cer- 
 tain other matter, who, he asks, can be so foolish as to believe that 
 they arose at first from no matter at all? 
 
 1 Produce men of such, rc.] Ver. 200. His fifth, argumetit from 
 the definite size of animals, and other natural productions. If, for 
 instance, men might 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? 
 
 3 Ford the sea on foot.] Ver. 201. Per vada. " Like Polyphemus, 
 Virg. jEn. iii. 665, Graditurque per aequor jam medium, nee dum 
 fluctuslatera ardua tinxit." Lambinus. 
 
 Cultivated places excel, $c.] Ver. 209. His sixth argument from 
 the improvement of natural productions. If things sprung frc m no-
 
 . 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 such seeds, you might see things severally 
 grow up and become much better of their own accord with- 
 out our labour. 
 
 Add, too, 1 that nature resolves each thing into its own 
 constituent elements, and DOES NOT REDUCE ANY THING TO 
 NOTHING. 
 
 lor 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- 
 luce 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 2 whatever things it removes 
 through length 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 rivers flowing from afar, supply the 
 sea? 3 Whence does the aether feed the stars? For infinite 
 
 thing, why might they not improve themselves from nothing, and 
 why might we not leave them to do so ? 
 
 1 Add, too, $c.] Ver. 214. Having proved that nothing is 
 generated from nothing, he now proceeds to prove that nothing is 
 reduced to nothing. To this end his first argument is, that if things 
 could be reduced or resolved into nothing, there would probably be 
 instances seen of things falling away and vanishing suddenly into 
 annihilation, instead of all things decaying gradually into their ele- 
 ments as they do at present. 
 
 2 Besides, if time utterly destroys, 4rc.] Ver. 226. The second argu- 
 ment. Things decay and are renovated ; but how could this reno- 
 vation take place, unless there were imperishable material atoma 
 from which they might be recruited ? 
 
 * Supply the sea?] Ver. 232. Mare suppeditant. " Lambinus and 
 Pareus take suppeditant absolutely, in the sense of suppetunt or parata 
 tunt ; 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. H. i 233256. 
 
 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 1 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. 2 But now, because 
 various counexions 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, 8 
 when Father ^Ether 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, 4 and 
 
 1 Further, the same force, 4rc.] 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 utterlj 
 destroy them. 
 
 * Might dissolve.] Ver. 244. Deberet dissolve. Would necessarily 
 have the power of dissolving. 
 
 * The showers of rain perish, $<;.] Ver. 251. Thefoitrth 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 corn, 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. 
 
 4 Joyous cities abound with youth.] Ver. 256. Leetas urbes puerum 
 fortre cufemtu. ' Florere is abundare ; with which acceptation of the 
 word the genitive case suits extremely well." Waltefield.
 
 I. 257282. . LUCRETIUS. 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. 1 Things, therefore, do not 
 utterly perish, which seem to do so, since Nature recruits one 
 thing from another, nor suffers any thing to be produced, 
 unless its production be furthered by the death of another. 
 
 Attend, now, further : 2 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, what 
 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 3 is 
 
 1 Their youthful hearts exhilarated with pure milk.] Ver. 262. 
 Lacte novo teneras percussa novellas. " Versus plank admirabilis," 
 says Faber. So thinks Good, and translates it thus : Each little heart 
 Quivering beneath the genuine nectar quaff* d. 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 : $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- 
 \stonce? This argument extends to Ver. 329. 
 
 1 A body of liquid water.] Vur. 282. Mollu aqua natura. Molr
 
 16 LUCRETIUS. * i. 283-311 
 
 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 al< 
 things before them, and overthrow them witli repeated as- 
 saults, and sometimes catch them up in a writhing vortex 
 rind 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. The 
 
 lit fpr liquid or fluid, as the Delphin editor justly observes. Comp. 
 ii. 375. Virg. JEn. v. 817- 
 
 1 Which a vast torrent, kc.~\ Ver. 283. Flumine abundanti, quern 
 magnut decursus aquai. The quern is the reading from certain 
 codicet of Wakefield, who says that Lucretius, in using the mascu- 
 line gender, had in his mind the more general word ./&?*. 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/uwew in the masculine 
 gender. 
 
 1 Modes of operation.} Ver. 297. Moribut. Metaphorically, as if 
 they were human beings.
 
 B. i. 312-33-5. 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, 1 a 
 ring upon the finger is made somewhat thinner by wearing 
 V; 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. 2 
 
 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 3 of the ocean, lose every time that they are 
 washed by the waves. Nature, therefore, carries on her 
 operations by imperceptible particles. 
 
 Nor, however, 4 5 are all things held enclosed by corporeal 
 substance ; for there is 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, 
 
 1 Many revolutions of the sun.] Ver. 312. Multis solis redeuntibut 
 annis. " Solis anni are anni solares, solar years." Havercamp, 
 
 3 Faculty of seeing.] Ver. 322. Speciem videndi. " Facultatem." 
 Creech. 
 
 3 Corroding salt.] Ver. 327. Vesco sale. " Lucretius has used 
 vesr.us for edax or consuming, when he says, nee, mare qua impendent, 
 vesco sale saxa peresa." Festus. 
 
 4 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. 
 
 5 Ib. He now proceeds to demonstrate that there is a VACUUM in 
 things ; space empty and intangible. His arguments seem suffi- 
 ciently intelligible to require no exposition. 
 
 c
 
 18 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 336365. 
 
 things could by no means be moved ; for that which is th* 
 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; 1 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, a* 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 2 penetrates to the very marrow of our 
 bones ; which kind of 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 
 
 1 Would not so much want their active motion, (as being deprived 
 y it,) as they would, properly speaking, never by any means hava 
 been produced at all.] Ver. 344. 
 
 Non tarn spllicito motu privata carerent, 
 Quam genita omnino nulla ratione fuissent. 
 
 The construction of the English appears awkward, but answers ex- 
 actly to the Latin. 
 
 Frot.} Ver. 356 He considered cold and heat as material and 
 active substances. Comp. ver. 495.
 
 s. i. 366-398. LUCRETIUS. 19 
 
 large with another, and 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 material 
 substance, and that it comprises much less 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 commence- 
 ment of its motion. 
 
 Lastly, if two broad and flat bodies, after having come in- 
 to collision, suddenly start asunder, it is clear that air must 
 necessarily take possession of all the vacuum which is then 
 formed between the bodies. And further, although that air 
 may quickly unite to flow 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 effected 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 /- 
 self into itself, 1 and unite its particles together without the aid 
 
 1 To draw itself into itself.] Ver. 398. Ipse in se trahere. Lam- 
 c 2
 
 20 
 
 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 3S*9 421. 
 
 of a void. For which reason, although you may long hesitate, 
 alleging many objections, 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, 1 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, Memmius, or if you 
 shall at all 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 2 from mighty sources, that 
 1 fear lest slow old ags 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, give Se ipse in se trahere. Wakefield 
 pronounces the Se before ipse to be sitffarcinatwm, reclamantibia et 
 renitentibiu multis libris et codicibus. So the readers of Wakefield and 
 Forbiger (whom Lachmann follows) must understand se, or suppose 
 trahere to be used absolutely. 
 
 1 Collect credit for my doctrines.] Ver. 402. 
 
 Multaque praeterea tibi possum commemorando 
 Argumenta fidem dictis conadere nostris. 
 
 Porbiger and Wakefield leave these lines without any point ; Ha- 
 vercamp puts a comma after argumenta, as is necessary, to prevent 
 misconstruction. 
 
 ' Such Copious draughts.] Ver. 413. "He signifies that he will 
 
 rth, it necessary, such a profusion of arguments drawn from 
 
 doctrine of Epicurus, that it is to be feared lest Memmius and 
 
 ilf should grow old and die, before Memmius has understood 
 
 uj one subject or heard it to an end." Lambimw
 
 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 ; l of the existence of which, unless the belief shall be 
 first firmly established, there will be no principle by reference 
 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, 2 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 3 which you can say is separate 
 from all bodily substance, and distinct from empty space ; 
 
 1 The common perception of all men shows that there is corpo- 
 real consistence.] Ver. 423. Corpus enim per se communis dedicat esse 
 Sensus. The common perception of all men, in all parts of the world, 
 in all ages. " This especially Epicurus resolutely maintains, that 
 the senses are to be 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 book, Lucretius says 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 acknowledged, there will be no principle from which to reason 
 on things in general. 
 
 2 To proceed then, if there were no place, #] 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, seq. 
 
 3 Besides, there is nothing, #e.j Ver. 431, seq. On this para- 
 
 Iraph I have to make these observations. In ver. 433, tertia numero, 
 have omitted the latter word. Ever so diminutive is given for parvo 
 denique. Shall be sensible to the touch, is in the original tactus erit, 
 Faber explaining tactus to mean tactilitas in a passive sease. See 
 ver. 455. Increase the number of bodies, is Corporis augebit numerum, 
 which might be rendered, increase the quantity of body. Lambinus 
 and Cinpch, however, read corporum; and I have accordingly pre- 
 ferred to put bodies in the plural, and to render the succeeding 
 words, summamque sequetur, " will be ranked in the multitude <>/ 
 them." 
 
 f
 
 22 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 433462. 
 
 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 
 delicate, 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 empty 
 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 place for 
 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 the 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, 1 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 from 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 affected 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 
 
 1 For whatsoever other things are said to be, $c.~\ Ver. 450. These 
 observations about adjuncts, and events or accidents, are sufficiently 
 clear to require no comment. The observations about Helen being 
 carried off, &., are, says Creech, nugae dialectical, which Lucretius 
 would not have inserted, but that to oppose the Stoics made it 
 necessary.
 
 B. i. 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 events, 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 1 (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 themselves, 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 2 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 that 
 
 1 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 lands (for there is no third, besides men 
 and things); but you cannot rightly say that those events were; 
 time, therefore, to which they belonged, is not; nor t there any 
 thing in rerum natura besides body and space." Wakefield. 
 
 * Bodies, besides, are partly original elements, (Src.] 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, of the 
 simple primary particles of all substance, must be solid.
 
 24 LfC'RETIUS. B. i. 489-^513. 
 
 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 
 heat, in the fire ; rocks often burst with fervent heat ; the 
 hardness of gold, losing its firmness, is dissolved by heat ; the 
 icy coldness of brass, overcome by flame, melts ; heat, and 
 penetrable cold, enter into the substance of silver, for we 
 have felt both with the hand, when, as we held silver cups 
 after our fashion, 1 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 
 genoroted universe now consists. 
 
 In the first place, since a two-fold nature 2 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 that 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, and, 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, 3 or com' 
 
 1 As we held silver cups after our fashion.] Ver. 496. Manu reti- 
 nentes pocula rite. I have added the word silver from Creech's 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, $c.] 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. 
 
 3 Furthermore, since in things which are produced, *c.l Ver. 
 512. He has proved that vacuum exists; and it must accordingly 
 exist among compound bodies ; but that which bounds it must be 
 solid, or vacuum would bound vacuum ; and this solid may he a
 
 B i. 513- 636. LUCRETIUS. 25 
 
 Bounded oj 'matter ', there is foundevapty 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, 1 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 has its place alternately ; since all 
 space neither exists entirely full, nor, again, entirely empty. 
 There exist, therefore, certain bodies which can completely Jill 
 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 if 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, nor 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 be dissolved, yet the original solid atoms of whicn it is 
 composed remain imperishable. This 1 consider to be the drift of 
 the argument in the text, which, perhaps from some corruption. 
 seems not very clear. Lambinus has this comment : " Generated 
 4hings have vacuity within them ; otherwise they would not peristt> 
 or be dissolved. But if they perish because they have vacuity <T. 
 them, there must yet be matter in which there is no vacuity, solid 
 nnd indissoluble, lest all things should be reduced to nothing. " 
 
 1 In addition, too. $c.] Ver. 521. There must be body that 
 completely fills sp^ce, or how would empty space be distinguished 
 from full ? 
 
 2 These bodies can neither be broken, 4re.] Ver. 529. 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. i. 537565. 
 
 wans all things compounded are dissolved. And the more 
 anything contains empty space within it, the more it yield 
 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, 1 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 
 can 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 which 
 primary elements every body may be dissolved, so that matter 
 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 2 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. 
 
 1 Again, unless there had been eternal matter, c.l Ver. 541. 
 Had there been no such solid and imperishable bodies, things must, 
 before this time, have been worn out and reduced to nothing, and 
 all that we see before us, would have been a re-production from 
 nothing. But this has been shown to be impossible. 
 
 2 Besides, if nature had set no limit, $c.] Ver. 552. Had there 
 been no bodies entirely solid, and not to be worn away, the atoms 
 of things would, before this period, vexata per avom, hiave lost their 
 power to make efficient compounds.
 
 B. i. 566-592. LUCRETIUS. 27 
 
 To this is added, 1 that though the primary particle.! of mat- 
 ter are perfectly solid, yet that all things, which are formed of 
 them, may be rendered soft and yielding, as air, water, earth, 
 fire (in whatever way they may be 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 elements, therefore, 
 are endowed with pure solidity ; by the dense combination of 
 which all compound bodies may be closely compacted, and 
 exhibit powerful strength. 
 
 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 strength. 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 3 has been assigned for the growth 
 of 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 ; we must 
 
 1 To this is added, $e.] Ver. 566. 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 be generated from them ? 
 
 * Moreover, if you still persist, $c.] Ver. 578. But if you 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 ; but to conceive that such bodies 
 exist, 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. 
 
 3 Further, since also a limit, $c.] Ver. 585 599. The uniform 
 generation of natural productions must proceed from unvarying 
 elements.
 
 28 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 593 GG& 
 
 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 also 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 
 animah, 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, 2 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 3 of another body ; 
 
 1 We must grant that such bodies must have in them.'] Ver. 592, 
 &c. Immutabile materice quoque corpus habere Debent nimirum. Or, 
 Such bodies must evidently have in them. I have frequently rendered 
 nimirum by evidently. " Successfully wrought upon." Revicta : 
 i. e. " vicissim victa, et superata." Lambinus. 
 
 2 Again, since even of such a body as our senses cannot per- 
 ceive, $e.J Ver. 600. Turn porro, qitoniam est extremum quodque cacu- 
 tnen, &c. He now proceeds to confute those who think that matter 
 is infinitely divisible, asserting that there must be, at the extremi- 
 ties of the smallest conceivable body, apices, or points, which you 
 cannot conceive possible to be detached from that body, and with- 
 out which you cannot conceive the body to exist. " Which apices, 
 or least of things," says Evelyn, " may haply prove a notion to be 
 hardly denied, whether physically or mathematically taken, as the 
 much-admired Gassendus largely demonstrates, where he speak/, 
 de non esse magnitudinem Epicuro infinite dividuam, whither I refer the 
 curious." These smallest conceivable corpuscles, from which no 
 points can be detached, and which, in consequence, are indestruc- 
 tible and everlasting, are the atoms of Epicurus 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. 
 
 3 First and last part.] Ver. 605. Pars primaque et ima. " Id est, 
 et prima atque ultima." Lambinus. And so Evelyn: 
 
 Since what we name 
 
 The/rsf, or last, in bodies is the same. 
 
 The extreme point of a body is the ./?< part of it, if you reckon 
 from that point to the interior of the body; and the last part of it, 
 if you reckon from the interior outwards to that point. Had it not
 
 B. I. 606616. LUCRETIUS. 29 
 
 after which other and other like parts in succession fill up, in 
 a condensed mass, the substance of the body, 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 any 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, 1 some point 
 
 been for the authority of Lambinus, I was inclined to render it the 
 ultimate and least part. 
 
 1 Moreover, unless there shall be some LEAST, &.] Ver. 617. 
 Prceterea, nisi erit MINIMUM. It is observed by Locke, (Essay, 
 book ii. chap. 23, 31,) that "the infinite divisibility of mattei_ 
 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 & finite body contains an infinite 
 number of parts ; if we affirm that it is not infinitely divisible, we 
 say, that after 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 difficulty the Epicureans cleared them- 
 selves, by asserting 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 Bayle, (Art. Zeno, note G,) "that those who espouse the 
 hypothesis 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 ; he 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 infra, on ver. 626. 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton admitted the same sort of atoms as Epicurus, 
 referring their origination, however, to an Almighty power. " It 
 seems probable," 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 in 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
 
 80 LUCHETIU6. B. i. 617-627 
 
 where division ends, the smallest bodies will in.lividually con- 
 sist of infinite parts, as, in that case, any part of the half of 
 any body 1 will always have its own half; nor will any thing 
 set a limit to this division. What, therefore, will be the dif- 
 ference in their nature between the greatest and smallest of 
 bodies? 2 It will not be possible that there should be any 
 difference ; for though the whole entire sura of things, 3 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- 
 mit it, you must be prevailed upon to acknowledge that there 
 are bodies which exist having no parts, 4 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. 
 
 1 Any part of the half of any body, SfC.l Ver. 618. Dimidia partis 
 pan. Preigerus observes that Lucretius does not say what part of the 
 kalf, and therefore suspects the reading. It would be easy to un- 
 derstand dimidia with part, 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 pars semper haberet dimidiam partem. 
 
 1 Difference between the greatest and smallest of bocfles ?] 
 Ver. 620. Ergarerum inter summam minimamque quid escit ? Preige- 
 rus understands summam 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 minimum. Either sense 
 is equally illustrative of the argument. 
 
 What difference would there be 
 
 Betwixt the least and greatest quantitie ? 
 
 Evelyn. 
 
 If there be no limit to the division of matter, the smallest quantity, 
 ind the greatest, will be equally divisible into an infinite number 
 f pans. 
 
 * Whole entire sum of things.] Ver. 621. Ftmditiis omnis summa. 
 
 * There are bodies which exist having no parts.] Ver. 626. Esse 
 ea, yita nullis jam preedita partUnis 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, 
 
 'er. 606, that alia atque alia similes partes make up an atom, he 
 neans the same material parts ; not mathematical points, as Creech 
 interprets it; for no number of mathematical points, which are mere 
 suppositions and non-entities, can make a substance.
 
 R. i. 628636. LUCRETIUS. 31 
 
 are indivisible and undiminuhable, you must also concede that 
 they 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, 1 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 2 is the original 
 
 1 Because those generated bodies wh'^h are augmented and repaired 
 by no parts, $c.] Ver. 632. Propterea, quia quce nullis sunt partibut 
 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 multis ; which wa? 
 Lambinus's conjecture. Wakefield " restored " nullis ; saying that 
 by bodies nullis partibus aucta, Lucretius means such as are in some 
 degree opposed to atoms, as being, though simplicia, yet grandiuscula, 
 and therefore gignendis rebus minus apta ; an explanation which does 
 not satisfy even his satellite, Forbiger, and which decidedly, I think, 
 will satisfy no one else ; for it introduces bodies to which no allusion 
 is made in 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 multit 
 partibus; even Good deserts his master, and gives "still of parts 
 possest." Lachmann, I am glad to see, has reinstated multis, 
 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 her art, and vain her plastic care 
 Aught of her mouldering ruins to repair ; 
 For vain were compounds, as they ne'er comprise 
 Due motion, weight, connexion, form, and size, 
 Th' essential properties whence all began, 
 Or to repair or renovate the plan. 
 
 Gifanius conjectured qua ullis, which, notwithstanding the hiaf is, 
 is perhaps the true reading. 
 
 2 For which reason, those who think that fire, #e.] As nobody 
 is now likely to be misled by Heraclitus, to believe fire the origin 
 of all things, we need bestow little comment upon his doctrine. 
 The reader may consult, if he pleases, the Ninth Book of Di jgenei 
 Laertius. As Lucretius alludes to a power to touch the <ar agree-
 
 32 LUCRETIUS. B.I. 137661. 
 
 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 ; n 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 be 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 ? Since it 
 vould 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. 1 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 in or by 
 such causes ; much less can so vast a variety of things originate 
 from dense and rare fire. And this also is to be borne in 
 mind, that it' 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, 2 all things would be condensed, 
 
 ably, belli tangere aures, it might be supposed that Heraclitus, though 
 obscure, wrote with some degree of elegance, but I no where find 
 this mentioned. 
 
 1 Fire still has.] Ver. 650. Habet super ignis. " Super : etiam, 
 porro; t\ti n-pof." WakeJleJd. 
 
 * All vacuity being removed from substances.] Ver. 661. 
 Nee rursum cernunt exemptum rebus inane, 
 Omnia denseri, fierique ex omnibus ur .m 
 Corpus 
 
 Exemptum rebtu 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 
 any construction to be given to the words, it must be that of 
 the Greek nominative or accusative absolute. Lambinus, aid his
 
 B. I 662676. LUCRETIUS. 33 
 
 and one body would be formed from all, which body could 
 eject nothing from itself, as glowing fire emits light and heat, 
 in stick a manner that you may see it does not consist 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 
 if, indeed, they shall not hesitate to allow that this may take 
 place absolutely, 1 then all heat, it is evident, will fall utterly 
 to nothing, and whatever things are re-produced, supposing 
 all to have been produced from fire, will be made out of no- 
 thing. For whatever, being changed, departs from its own 
 limits, 2 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 thatyzre of theirs, that all things, as you may see, 
 may not utterly fall to nothing, 3 and that the multitude of 
 objects in the universe may not have-to-flourish 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 raptim, a little below, I have given 
 simply eject. 
 
 1 If, indeed, they shall not hesitate to allow absolutely.] Ver. 
 668. Scilicet ex nulla facere id si parie reparcent. " If, forsooth, they 
 do not at ail 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." 
 Wakefield. 
 
 3 For whatever, being changed, departs from its own limits, Jp] 
 Ver. 671. 
 
 Nam quodcunque suis mutatum finibus exit, 
 Continuo hoc mors est illius quod ftiit 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 flat 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. 
 
 3 That all things, as you may see, may not utterly fall to no- 
 thing.! Ver. fi74. Ne tibi res redeant ad nihilum funditus omnel.
 
 31 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 677-70& 
 
 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 fire might produce would be in all forms only 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 as 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, (o 
 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, 1 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 that 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?' 2 ' For to advance either assertion, 
 seems equal madness. 
 
 1 Combats against his senses.] Ver. 694. Contra sensus reptignat. 
 '* He contends against his own senses, which feel other things be- 
 sides fire." Lambinus. To put trust in the senses was also a chiei 
 point in the arguments of Reid and his followers. Comp. ver. 42 r . 
 
 1 Allow existence to all other substances.] Ver. 704. Summam ia-
 
 B. I. 706722. 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, 2 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 3 of Agrigentum, 
 whom, within the triangular coasts of its land, that island 
 produced, around which the Ionian deep flowing with vast 
 windings, 4 sprinkles on it salt 5 from its blue waves, and the 
 sea, rolling rapidly in a narrow channel, divides with its 
 waves the shores of the lands of ^Eolia, (i. e. Italy,} 6 from the 
 
 men esse relinquat. " Still resolve to maintain that all other things 
 exist." Creech. 
 
 1 Air is the first principle, $] Ver. 708, seq. 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 
 authority 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 ? 
 
 2 who couple the elements of things.] Ver. 713. Conduplicant 
 
 primordia rerum. " As were Xenophanes, who joined earth and 
 water ; Parmenides, who united fire and earth ; CEnopides of Chins, 
 who mingled fire and air ; Hippo of Rhegium, who put together fire 
 and water." Faber. 
 
 3 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, concord and discord, 
 the one producing union, and the other separation. Plutarch, de 
 Placit. Philosoph. i. 3." Creech. 
 
 4 Ionian deep flowing with vast windings.] Ver. 719. QtMmflui- 
 tans circum magnis amfractibus atyuor. " Amfractibus : an littoris ? an 
 marig?" says Bentley. " Haud dubie maris," says Wakefield. 
 
 * Sprinkles on it salt.] Ver. 720. Virus. " Significare ralsedmem 
 t amarorem maris dudum docuit Turneb. xix. 15." Havercamp. 
 
 * jEolia, (i. e. Italy.}] Ver. 722. On the margin of a copy belong-
 
 36 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 723749. 
 
 boundaries of it (viz. of Sicily). Here is the vast Charybdia, 
 and here the murmurs of ^Etna 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 de- 
 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. 1 
 The verses, moreover, which 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 2 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 Havercamn was written in Latin : " That part (of Italy) 
 which Jocastes the son of jEolus inhabited, along the strait of 
 Sicily, was called jEolia." 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,) Rhegium in Italy is called the city 
 of Jocastus the son of sEolus. Several copies, however, read Italite, and 
 this reading Lachmann has adopted. 
 
 1 More sacred, and wonderful, and estimable.] Ver. 731. Sanctum 
 tnagis et minim carwnque. " Carum, n/itturtpov." Lambimts. " Pluria 
 faciendum." Creech. 
 
 2 Stumbled.] Ver. 741. Fecere ruinas. " Corruerunt, ceciderunt." 
 Fnber. So also Lambinut.
 
 I. 750767. LUCRETIUS. 37 
 
 exists in bodies, although we see that there is that least, 
 namely, the extreme point of every body, which seems to be 
 least to our senses; so 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, 1 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 2 and 
 destructive to one another ; for which reason, on coming to- 
 gether, they will either 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, 3 
 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 
 
 1 Whoie universe must fallback to nothing.] Ver. 757. If the 
 elementary particles of things were soft, they would, plagis vexata 
 per avom, harassed by long agitation and friction, be in time worn 
 out and reduced to nothing. 
 
 2 Besides, these four elements are in many ways hostile.] Ver. 
 760. Deinde inimica modis multis sunt atque venena Ipsa sibi inter se. 
 " Are as it were poisons, that is, deadly and destructive, as water to 
 fire, !;c. * * * Sc Catullus calls a certain Rufus vitee venenum." Lam- 
 biints. A little below I have translated tempestate coactu, " a tempest 
 having arisen ; " properly, a tempest being collected. Lambinus and 
 others read coortd. 
 
 3 Moreover, if all things are produced from those four bodies, 
 $.] Ver. 764. If you say that all things which we see before us, 
 distinct 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 di- 
 tiuct from them ? How can you tell which were originals?
 
 LUCRETIUS. B-I 768-798. 
 
 be made? For, according to this hypothesis, they are 
 d Alternately, and change their appearance, and their 
 hole substance among themselves perpetually. But 
 perchance you imagine that the substances of fire and em M, 
 S ethereal air and the liquid of water, meet together 
 .uch 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- 
 inc heap will exhibit only its own nature, and air will be seen 
 to remain mixed together with earth and with some '.portion 
 of liquid j 1 but primary elements, for the production ot 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 fires, and make fire first 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, first water, afterwards air, 
 then heat ; and that these elements do not cease to interchange, 
 and to pass from heaven to earth, and fro'n earth to the stars 
 of heaven ; which primary elements ou^ht 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, 2 they must necessarily consist of other elements which 
 cannot be changed in any way, lest all things should return, ag 
 you may suppose, utterly to nothing. But you may rather con- 
 
 1 Some portion of liquid.] Ver. 777. Quodam cum rare. Lambinus 
 read ardor cum rare, heat with liquid, which is infinitely to be pre- 
 ferred. 
 
 1 Since these four bodies pass into change.] Ver. 795. In com- 
 mvtatvm veniunt. Commutatus, us. I believe it is a aara \ty6/j.ivov. 
 Lest all things should return, as you may suppose, $c. Ne tibi res re- 
 deant ad nihilum funditus omnes. See note on ver. 671.
 
 B. i. 799317. LUCRETIUS. 39 
 
 elude that certain bodies exist, endowed with such a nature, 
 that if perchance they have generated fire, the same bodies 
 may, a few 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, 1 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, 2 and, you will 
 add, unless the sun, for his part, cherishes the productions of 
 nature and affords heat, corn, trees, and animals would not be 
 able to grow. Doubtless ; and unless solid food and soft liquid 
 were to sustain ourselves, our bodies, for want of them, 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 3 are mixed in 
 many bodies in many ways ; therefore various things are 
 sustained by various things. And it is often of great conse - 
 
 1 But manifest fact, #e.] 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. 
 
 8 Groves are shaken with the moisture of showers.] Ver. 806. 
 Imbribus et tabe nimborum arbusta vacillant. 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 nivis and tabida nix. Are shaken.] Vacillant : totter. See vi. 
 575, Vacillant omnia tecta. 
 
 a Many common elements of many things, $c.~] Ver. 814. 
 
 Multimodis communia multis 
 
 Multarum rerum in rebus primordia multa 
 Sunt. 
 
 " He manifestly makes it his business to repeat the same word as 
 often as possible." Preigerus. Wakefield collects a few instances of 
 a similar repetition of TTCLQ, as in Demosth. cont Aristag. i. fin. 
 UTraai iravra r dyaSa tvytaQai.
 
 40 LUCRETIUS. B . i. 818S37. 
 
 quence with what other elements, and in what position, these 
 same elements are combined, and what motions they recipro- 
 cally 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 numerous, can attract 
 to themselves more, and form more combinations, from which aU 
 the various things in the universe may severally be produced. 
 
 And now let us also examine the 'O^oto/^m of Anax- 
 agoras, 2 as the Greeks call it ; nor does the poverty of our na- 
 tive tongue, indeed, allow us to name it in our own lanniae 
 But it is easy, however, to explain in words the tiling itself, 
 which, as the origin of things, he calls 'Opotolupua. 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 
 
 1 Besides, even in my own verses, *c.] Ver. 823 If the varion 
 selections and combinations of four and twenty letters can form 
 SI? 7?V S 8S are SCei ? in my Verses > how infinitely gJeate? a va- 
 8 "" f rm > bein * so incalfulaWy mor, 
 
 Mark, as my easy verse spontaneous flows, 
 How common letters various words compose, 
 
 T^diffe/Sl vT E - Se ' and W r / from word > be found 
 ;r widely, both in sense and sound- 
 
 Arid hence convicted, let thy reason own 
 
 Wl it wondrous change position forms alone. 
 
 In , Xlrt^Tff ""A' more 1 nu m'rous far, unite 
 
 In all the different forms that greet the light. Dmmmond.
 
 B. I. 838872. LUCRETIUS. 4t 
 
 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, or 
 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 this, 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 grow 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 Vnth 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 previously 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. JEn. vii 253. The text 
 might be rendered, "flesh is generated irom small and minute 
 fleshes." Evelyn took it in the sense of entrails: " That entrailt do 
 of little entrials breed."
 
 42 LUCRETIUS. B i 873889. 
 
 concealed flame, and smoke, and ashes, wood must necessarily 
 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 that 
 although he thinks all things lie-secretly mixed witli 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 as it were in readiness and in front ; 
 which, however, is far removed from just reasoning. For, if 
 this hypothesis were correct, it might-naturally-be-expected 
 also that corn, when it is broken by the overwhelming force 
 of the mill-stone, 1 would exhibit some token of blood, 2 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 issue 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 
 
 1 Overwhelming force of the mill-stone.] Ver. 880. Minaci robore 
 taxi. "Minaci, poetically for terrible and formidable, and therefore 
 great and heavy." Wakefield. 
 
 2 Exhibit some token of blood.] Ver. 881. Mittere signum sangui- 
 nit. If blood, according to Anaxagoras, comes from drops of blood, 
 and blood is produced in our bodies by the medium of corn, 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," Qunm lapidem in lapidem terimus manare cniorem, 
 is a verse which Faber, Preiger, Havercamp, and Bentley concur 
 in condemning as spurious, and which, though preserved 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 in the margin," 
 ays Forbiger, " by some one who thought that the words fruget 
 robore taxi franguntur required a more accurate explanation, and 
 who had in his mind the passage of Plautus, Asin. i. 1, 16, num. me 
 \lluc ducit, ubi lapis lapidem ferit t " 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 plainlf 
 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 will say, 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 1 were hidden in the woods, the 
 fire could not be concealed for any length of time, but would 
 openly consume the forests, and burn up the groves. 
 
 Do you now see, therefore, (what we remarked a little be- 
 fore,) that it is frequently of great 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 2 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 
 
 1 But if positive flame.] Ver. 903. Quod si facto flamma. " Facta 
 fiamma 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. 
 
 2 And that the same elements a little altered, $c.] Ver. 910. At* 
 que eadem, paulo inter se mutata creare Ignes & lignis. 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 token away." Lambinus.
 
 44 LUCRETIUS. B. I. 918-937 
 
 mere absurdities, and fall to the ground. 1 For the consequence 
 of such a supposition will be, that you 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 remai 
 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 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, 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 
 
 1 Your original elements fall to the ground.] Ver. 917. 
 
 Hac ratione tibi pereunt primordia rerum. 
 Fiet uti risu tremulo concussa cachinnent, 
 Et 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." 
 Lambinus. 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. L 938-961. LUCRETIUS. 45 
 
 honey, that the age of childhood, as yet unsuspicious, 1 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, Mem.' 
 ntius, 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 lookest through the whole NATURE OF THINGS, and 
 vnderstandest with what shape and beauty it is adorned. 
 
 But since I have taught that atoms of matter, entirely solid, 
 pass-to-and-lro perpetually, unwasted through all time ; come 
 now, and let us unravel whether there be any limit 2 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 learn 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 bounded, 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 4 this 
 faculty of our sense (i. e. our vision) cannot extend. Now, 
 
 1 Age of childhood, as yet unsuspicious.] Ver. 938. Puerorum 
 tetas improvida. Find its lips deluded.] Ludificetur labrorum temis, 
 may be deceived as far as the lips (are concerned). Though de- 
 ceived, may not be injured.] Deceptaque non capiatur. " Decepti non 
 damnum aliquod patiantur." Creech. 
 
 * Whether there be any limit, $e.] Ver. 950, seq. He now pro- 
 ceeds to consider whether matter and space be infinite or not. 
 
 8 All that exists, therefore, / affirm, i$c.~\ Ver. 957. He asserts 
 that all tbat exists, both matter and the space which contains it, is 
 bounded in no direction, (nulla regione Monmt,) inasmuch as it is 
 possible to find no extremity of it. 
 
 4 So that there may appear to be some line farther than which, 
 $c.] Ver. 960. 
 
 ut videatur, 
 
 Qw3 non longius hcec sentus natura sequatur. 
 1 have followed Lambhius, who interprets thus : ut videatur, that
 
 46 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 962 
 
 since it must 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, 1 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. 
 
 B3sides, 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 throw, a flying dart, 2 whether would yon 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, somelimiting extremity, quolongius, i. e. 
 ultra quod, beyond which, htec natura tensvs, 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." 
 
 1 Nor does it matter at what part of it you stand.] Ver. 964. 
 Nee refert quibus assistas regionibus 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." 
 
 2 Throw a flying dart.] Ver. 969. Jaciatque volatile telum. If you 
 suppose that there is a boundary to the universe, fix on the place 
 where 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 jar as possible. As to finique locet se, ver. 977, I have taken 
 Creech's interpretation, who exp'.ains the whole passage thus : Quo 
 minus earn partem, in quam destination fuit, attingat, ibique tanquam in 
 ternnno se tistat. " Whither it were sent, it could not tend." Evelyn
 
 B. i. 9741002. LUCRETIUS. 4? 
 
 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 flight, or whether it is borne onwards be- 
 yond the supposed limit, it evidently did not began-its-flight 
 from a boundary of the WHOLE. In this manner I will go on 
 with you, 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 still 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 fix 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 for 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, 1 in their course, can run through, 
 
 1 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, tfc." 
 Be it so. Faber advocated fulmina, thinking that it suited belter 
 with clara, and Lachmann has adopted it. Flumina, however, if 
 more in accordance with labentia in the 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, on every side, vast abundance of 
 room lies open for all things, all limit being set aside every 
 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 rf one by the other, she may render ALL 
 infinite. 1 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, 2 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 own 
 counsel or sagacious understanding ; nor, assuredly, did they 
 agree among themselves what motions each should produce ; 
 
 1 Render all infinite.] Ver. 1010. Infinite omnia reddat. " Uni- 
 versum reddat interminatum." Creech. Perhaps I should rather 
 have translated it, may render all things 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. 
 
 9 Bright temples of heaven.] Ver. 1013. Cceli lucida templa. I 
 have rendered it literally temples, but I should perhaps say that it 
 means spaces, quarters, divisions, regions, the derivation generally 
 adopted being from rifivia, r^ti5, to cut; temulutn, temlum. templum, 
 
 as," says Mr. Valpy, " Eximo, Exemulum, Exemlum, Exemplum." Ci- 
 cero quotes cceli ccerula templa from Ennius. The augurs, when about 
 to take omens, divided the heaven into templa, as the 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 1 have rendered terene heights. And ver. 1063, I have trans 
 lated -ctli templa, "upper parts of heaven."
 
 H. I. 10231049. 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, they thus, by experiencing 
 movements and combinations of every kind, at length settle 
 into such positions, by which means, (i. e. positions,} 1 this SUM 
 of things, being produced, exists. And this sum of things, 
 when it was once thrown into suitable motions, 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, 2 and that the gliding fires of beaten 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, 3 has failed to supply itself. 
 
 Nor can impacts, 4 as some may imagine, produced externally 
 on all sides, keep together the entire WHOLE, or whatever of 
 matter has been combined into a ivhole. For though some 
 external impacts may strike frequently, and thus may sustain 
 here and there a part, until others succeed, and the requisite 
 number 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 
 
 1 By which means, (i. e. positions).'] Ver. 1027. Qualibus h<ec 
 rebus consistit summa creata. " In tales disposituras, quae res efficiant 
 illas, quibus hzec 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. 
 
 2 Flourishes undecayed.] Ver. 1032. Summit Jloreat. " So flour- 
 ishes that their sum remains un diminished." Wakefield. 
 
 * Turned from its course.] Ver. 1040. Avorsa viai. TTJC wJof 
 dirtffTpafif.itva. Wakejield 
 
 4 Impacts.] Ver. Io41. Plagee, "blows, strokes." 
 
 Z
 
 50 LUCRETIUS. B. i. 1050-1075. 
 
 in sufficient numbers, an infinite quantity of matter is requisite 
 on avery side. 
 
 And in these matters, O Meminius, 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 thrown 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, Ave behold the stars of night, and 
 that they share the times of heaven, the hours of light 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 mere place, and space which we call empty, must, 
 whether through the centre or through what is not the centre, 
 yield eqvilly a passage to equal weights, in whatsoever direc- 
 
 AncC in these matters all things tend to the centre.] 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 tlwit there are inmimerable worlds, and that the universe 
 is infinite, allow neither extremity nor middle-" Lambinus. Comp. 
 *er. 1069
 
 B. I. 1076-1096. LUCRETIUS. 51 
 
 tion their motions tend. Nor is there any place, at which 
 when bodies have arrived, they can make a stand in vacua, 
 having lost the force of weight ; nor again, must that which 
 is vacuum, give support beneath any thing, but must proceed 
 to yield that passage through it which its nature requires. 
 Things, therefore, cannot be held in combination under such 
 a hypothesis, namely, 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, 1 
 
 1 Walls of the world should suddenly fly.] Ver. 1095. So 
 
 Lucan, Phars. i. 72. 
 
 Sic cum compage solul&, 
 Ssecula tot mundi suprema coegerit hora, 
 Antiquum repetens iterum Chaos, omnia mistis 
 Sidera sideribus concurrent : ignea ponttim 
 Astra petent: tellus extendere littora nolet, 
 Excutietque fretum : fratri contraria Phoebe 
 Ibit, et obliquum bigas agitare per orbem 
 Indignata diem poscet sibi ; totaque discors 
 Machina divulsi turbabit fosdera 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 t 
 The cart'; no longer shall extend its shore 
 To keer the ocean out ; the moon no more 
 I n
 
 52 LUCRETIUS. B I. 10971010. 
 
 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 of earth and heaven, through the deep 
 INANE, so that, in a moment of time, no relic should exist of 
 them, except desert space and blind atoms. 1 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 effectually 
 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. 
 
 1 Blind atoms.] Ver. 1103. Primordia coca. The imperceptible 
 primary elements o all things.
 
 BOOK IL 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Having exhorted Memmius to the study of philosophy, ver. 1 60, Lucre- 
 tius proceeds to treat of the properties of atoms, of which the first ii 
 motion, 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, Yer. 
 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, 184221. Were they not to 
 decline, nothing would be produced, and there could be no free agency 
 in animals when produced, ver. 222 271. Atoms are still borne on in 
 the same way in which they have 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. Shows that com- 
 pound bodies contain atoms of different figures, and alludes to the natural 
 history of the earth, and the fabulous history of Cybele, ver. 580 728. 
 Atoms have not those qualities which we call sensible qualities, as colour, 
 taste, heat, cold, &c., 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 eye, 
 pUnte and animak grow up, decline, and perish, ver. 1150 1178.
 
 54 LUCRETIUS. B. n. 120. 
 
 IT is sweet, when the winds 1 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 any one 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, 2 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 every man demands 3 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- 
 
 1 It is sweet when the winds, &c.~\ Ver. 1. " For the idea con- 
 tained in the first two verses," says Dr. Good, " Lvicretius seems in 
 some measure to have been indebted to Isidorus. ' Nothing it 
 more pleasant,' says this writer, 'than to sit at ease in the har- 
 bour, and behold the shipwreck of others,' Iv Xipivt Ka$tj<r$ai, icai ra 
 ruv a\\wv OKoirtiv vavayia. Pelus. lib. ii. ep. 240." But as Lucre- 
 tius died about five hundred years before Isidorus Pelusiota, the obliga- 
 tion can hardly be proved to lie o Lucretius' side. Lambinus, with 
 more probability, suggests that Lucretius may have had in his mind 
 these verses of Menander : 
 
 "Qf T)fiv Trjv SaXarrav airoQiv yijg bpav, 
 
 'Q fifjTfp, iffri, pri irXtovra fii]Safj,wf. 
 
 "Ho ir sweet it is, O mother, to contemplate the sea at a distance 
 from the land, being altogether free from sailing on it! " 
 
 2 Serene heights raised by the learning of the wise.] Ver. 8. Edita 
 doctrina sapientum templa serena. Edita, says Wakefield, is "raised 
 up, made, produced, built on high, by the learning of philosophers." 
 
 3 Nature of every man demands, $] Ver. 17. " Katmram cujua- 
 libet hominis, nisi ut ille fruatur, that you may not hesitate in set- 
 tling the construction." Bentley apud Wakejield.
 
 B. ii. 21-45. LUCRETIUS. 55 
 
 sary to the nature of the body ; those things, namely, which 
 are of such a kind that they may keep off pain, and that they 
 may afford, 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 if their dwelling nei- 
 ther gleams with silver nor glitters with gold, nor harps cause 
 the arched and gilded roofs to resound ; 2 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 arc 
 tossed on woven figures and blushing purple, than if you are 
 obliged to lie under a plebeian covering. 
 
 For which reason, since neither riches, nor 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 : 3 
 unless, perchance, when you see your legions 4 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 ivater, religious-fears, alarmed 
 at these things, flee affrighted from your mind, and the dread of 
 death then leaves your time undisturbed 5 and free from care. 
 
 1 Nor does nature herself ever require.] Ver. 23. Gratius interdum 
 teque natura ipsa requirit. " Tt is to be observed, what we perhaps 
 observe first, that interdum neque is put for mtnquam." Faber. 
 
 2 Nor harps cause the roofs to resound.] Ver. 28. Nee cithara 
 reboant templa. " Citharae seems to be the nominative plural, re- 
 boant being put for reboare faciunt." Forbiger. The passages in which 
 these lines of Lucretius have been imitated by Virgil, (Georg. ii. 
 461,) and other poets, it would require too inucn space to quote. 
 
 3 We must further suppose that they are of no profit to the mind. ] 
 Ver. 39. Quod superest, animo quoquf. nil prodesse putandum, " Cre- 
 dendum etiam non animo prodesse." Creech. Quod superest for 
 prcEterea, etiam. 
 
 4 Unless, perchance, when you see your legions, -c.] Ver. 40. 
 Sinon forte tuas legiones, &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 he produced." Lambmus. 
 
 * Time undisturbed.] Ver. 45. Vacuum tempus. I have translated
 
 56 LUCRETIUS. B. ii. 46-^9. 
 
 But if we see that such suppositions and expectations are ridi- 
 culous and merely objects of derision, and that in reality the 
 fears and pursuing cares of men dread neither the sound of 
 arras 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, 1 especially when all our life labours under the 
 darkness of ignorance? For as children tremble 2 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 3 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 
 
 tempus " time," though Lambinus said that if it were genuine it 
 must mean "the head," and, concluding it spurious, substituted 
 pectus. Wakefield replaced tempus, aptly adducing Ter. Heant. I. i. 
 38. Sine me, vacivom tempus ne quod dem mihi Laboris. 
 
 1 Wholly the office of reason.] Ver. 52. Omni' sit heec rationi' po- 
 testas. " For httc omnia potest ratio, or heec sola potest ratio. ' ' Preigerus. 
 
 * For as children tremble, $.] Ver. 51. Nam vefati pueri trepidant, 
 &c. See on iii. 88. 
 
 3 I will explain to thee by what motions, 4r.] Ver. 61. "This ia 
 the argument of the second book. He promises that he will firti 
 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, %c.] Ver. 63. "On account 
 of innate motion ; for, unless this be supposed, another origin of 
 thing! must be sought, and recourse must be had to the gods." 
 Faber.
 
 B. ii. 70-92 LUCRETIUS. 57 
 
 eyes ; while, nerertheless, 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 
 racers, deliver the torch l 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 all carried 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 kept 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 
 
 1 Like the racers, deliver the torch, $c.] Ver. 78. Et quasi cursores 
 vitai lampada tradunt. " At this time [the feast of Vulcan at Athens] 
 there was a race with torches, called 'Ayoii/ Xa/JTratfot/xoc, 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, rtwuvras rt KO.I eicrpeQov 
 rat; iralSaz, KaSd Trtp \a^iiraSa TOV /3/ov TrapacidovTag aXXoif t d\\wv. 
 
 2 Nor does any thing behind oppose their motion.'] Ver. 87. 
 Nee qiiicquam a tergo ibvs obstet. " For empty space offers no ob- 
 struction. " Faber.
 
 58 LUCRETIUS. B. n. 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. 1 
 
 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 ivith 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, 2 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 
 
 1 Proved by indisputable argument.] Ver. 93. Certd et ratione 
 probatum ett. See the argument from the throwing of a dart, i. 967. 
 
 2 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 givert explico. Good has. 
 "if aright I deem;" and Coutures, " ce me semble." We must 
 uppose it to be used in a middle sense, 1 cause myself to recollect, or 
 / think. Butsome manuscripts, says Pius, have memorabo, which we 
 ought perhaps to adopt.
 
 . ii. 122151 LUCRETIUS.' 59 
 
 tossed about in the great void. Assuredly a small thing may 
 give an example, and traces leading to the knowledge of great 
 tilings. 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 L 
 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 its, 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, Memmius, what activity and swiftness of mo- 
 tion 2 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 
 
 1 And doubtless this errant-motion, c.] Ver. 131. Scilicet hied 
 principiis est omnibus error ; Prima moventur enim per seprimordia rertim. 
 " In this manner all other parts of matter are tossed and wander 
 about, the commencement of motion being derived from the primary 
 particles." Lambinus. Observe that omnibus is the dative case. 
 
 * What activity of motion, #c.] Ver. 141. "He now proceeds 
 to prove by an argument or comparison a minor*, with what activity 
 primordial atoms are endowed." Lambinus.
 
 6C LLCKETIUS. B n. 1&2 IT*. 
 
 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, 1 when they pass through empty space> 2 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, 3 
 to which they have begun to proceed, must be thought, 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 4 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 o/'the 
 
 1 Of pure solidity.] Ver. 156. Solida simplicitate. " Of solid sim- 
 plicity." The same expression is used, i. 549, 575, 610. 
 
 2 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. 
 
 3 By their own tendency.] Ver. 159. Connixa. 
 
 * A much greater region of space.] Ver. 162. Multiplex loci spatium. 
 The same phrase occurs, iv. 208. Scheller, in his Lexicon, inter- 
 prets multiplex, in this passage, " extensive, large, great." But ag 
 Livy, vii. 8, uses multiplex comparatively, multiplex numerus quam 
 , I think Creech right in explaining multiplex spatiitm by multo wo- 
 Jvt sr-ilium.
 
 . ti. ^tf 210. LUCRETIUS. 61 
 
 mature of heaven itself, and to demonstrate from many other 
 tilings, 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 atoms. 
 
 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 take 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 down with great 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 f l 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 
 
 1 Leap forth with a larger portion of their substance.'] Ver. 200. 
 Plus lit parte foras emergant exsiliantque. " They naturally rose above 
 the Avater 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. n. 211238 
 
 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. 1 
 
 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 time, though at no fixed 
 and determinate time, and at some points, though at no fixed 
 and determinate points, turn aside 2 from the right line, but 
 only so far as you can call the least possible deviation. 
 
 But unless the atoms were accustomed to decline from the 
 right line, 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 
 among the primary-elements ; and thus nature would never 
 havejproduced 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 far 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 yield 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 they're pass age which its nature 
 requires. For which reason all bodies, when put into motion, 
 
 1 Falls very frequently to the earth.] Ver. 215. Cadit in terras 
 tolffb. For volgo Creech givespassim ; Wakefield seems to take it in the 
 sense of non raro, 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. 239-1W9. LUCRETIUS. 63 
 
 must be equally borne onwards, though not 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 nature performs her operations. 
 
 For which cause, it must again and again be acknowledged 
 that atoms decline a littl'j 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 thia 
 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 1 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 from a former one in a cer- 
 tain order, and, if 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 fixed time, nor 
 
 1 But who is there that can see, Z$c. ] Ver. 249. Bed nihil omnino 
 recta regione via'i declinare, quis est, qui possit cernere, sese ? 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 turn'd, 
 
 What searching sight hath ever yet discern'd ? Busby. 
 
 2 Whence comes this freedom of will to all animals in the world?] 
 Ver. 256. Libera per terras uncle hac animantibus extat voluntas ? 
 I' 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 arises from it the 
 same necessity. 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, 1 and 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 ivithin us is at times obliged tc 
 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 sftme is the 
 case in the seeds of matter, and that there is some other cause 
 for motion besides strokes and weight, from Avhich this power 
 i 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- 
 
 1 Mass of matter must be collected.] Ver. 266. Omnis enim 
 
 totum per corput material Copia conquiri debet. Some manuscript* 
 have conciri.
 
 - 
 
 B. ii. 292. 319. LUCRETIUS. 65 
 
 eumstance the slight 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 l 
 together, or, on the other hand, distributed in parts at greater 
 intervals, than it is at present. For to that body neither does 
 any increase ever take place, nor is any diminution made /row 
 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 still 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 there, 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 of things seems to stand in perfect 
 rest, except whatever individual thing exhibits motion in its 
 own body. 2 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 mruj observe a flock of 
 woolly sheep spread about, cropping the rich pasture, where- 
 soever the grass, gemmed with fresh dew, calls and invites 
 
 1 Nor was the general body of matter ever more condensed, -c.l 
 V 7 er- 294. Nee stipata magisfuit unquam, Sfc. " 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 generated to increase the 
 density of matter." Creech. 
 
 8 Except whatc ver individual thing exhibits motion in its own 
 body.] Ver. 311. Prcpterqitam si quid proprio dot corpore motus. il \a 
 the air, the water, the heaven, the stars, &e." Faber. 
 
 T
 
 63 LUCRETIUS. B. n. 320-344. 
 
 each ; while 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 gleam 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 ; all these are distinct objects, and yet there 
 is a certain spot on the high hills, whence, if you look down, 
 they seem to rest on the ground as one body, and only a con- 
 tinuous brightness to settle over the field. 
 
 Attend now, Memmius, 1 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 
 (,ike form, for those alike are innumerable, but because, through- 
 Out the whole, 2 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. 3 
 
 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 
 
 1 Attend now, O Memmius, Sfc.] Ver. 333. " He first shows thjit 
 atoms differ in shape ; next, that their differences of shape are finite ; 
 and then that atoms of each shape are infinite." Lambinus. 
 
 1 Throughout the whole.] Ver. 337- Volga. 
 
 1 Like figure and like shape to all others.] Ver. 311. 
 
 Debent nimirum non omnibus omnia prorsum 
 Esse pari filo, similique affectu figurft. 
 
 Lambinus interprets/^ by textura, and Scheller, in his Lexicon, citing 
 this passage, makes it kind, nature." But as Lucretius is here 
 speaking merely of the forms of atoms, it is evidently to be rendered 
 outline or figure, as in v. 573 : 
 
 Forma quoque hinc solis debet filumque videri. 
 fcfte also v. 587, atque alibi.
 
 a. u. 345375. 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 m 
 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, peneti-ated 
 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 
 horned dams, and sheep distinguish the bleating of the butting 
 lamb ; and thus, as nature requires, each hastens invariably 
 to its own milky udder. 1 
 
 Lastly, contemplate any sorts of corn, 2 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 forms. And in like manner we see the 
 various sorts of shells paint the lap of the earth, where the sea, 
 
 1 Each hastens invariably, to.] Ver. 370. Ad sua quisque fere de- 
 currunt ubera lactis. For " fere," generally, or, as I have rendered it, 
 invariably, Wakefield reads "feri," beasts. 
 
 2 Lastly, contemplate any sorts of corn, e.] Ver. 371. 
 
 Postremo quodvis frumentum, non ramen pmne, 
 Quidque sno genere, inter se simile esse videbis. 
 
 '' With yuodcis frumentum understand surnere perge from ver. S*7." 
 
 Cieech. 
 
 r 2
 
 68 LUCEETIUS. B. n. 376-404. 
 
 with gentle waves, strews the bibulous sand on the winding 
 shore. 1 Again and again, therefore, I repeat, the primordial 
 atoms of things, since they exist in their own nature, and are 
 not fashioned to a certain shape by the hand of one artificer, 
 must likewise circulate through the universe in certain shapes 
 dissimilar one from another. 
 
 It is very easy for us, then, by the char guidance of rea- 
 son, to explain why the flame of lightning passes through the 
 air with much more penetration than our fire, which arises 
 from fuel of the earth. For you may justly 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 observe 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 through 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 ctntaury, 2 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- 
 
 1 Strews the bibulous sand, <Src.] Ver. 376. Litoris incurvi bibulam 
 payit aquar arenam. " Pavit, that is, sternit, from the Greek iraita, 
 with dig^amma inserted." Wakefield. 
 
 2 Acrid centaury.] Ver. 400. Feri Centauri. Creech considers 
 ferus, in this passage, to have much the same meaning as teter, 
 
 (.which is immediately before applied to wormwood,) or tristis, (which 
 is applied to centaury, iv. 124,) and ridicules Fayus for thinking that 
 it meant " agrestis," wild. "The whole plant is of an exceeding 
 bitter taste." Culpeper's Eng. Physician.
 
 *. ii. 40-5436. LUCRETIUS. 69 
 
 ,icles more hooked ; and that, on this account, they are ac- 
 customed, as it were, to tear a way 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 burn offensively-smelling 
 carcasses, and when the stage is freshly sprinkled with Cilician 
 saffron, 1 and the altar, near at hand, exhales Panchaean odours. 
 Nor conceive that pleasing colours, which can feast the eye 
 with 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 1 
 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 
 
 1 Sprinkled with Cilician saffron.] Ver. 416. Croco Cilici perfusa. 
 "Theatres were sprinkled with saffron mixed with wine, as Pliny 
 relates." Preigerus. Crocum floresqiie perambulct Attat Fabula. Hor. 
 Ep. ii. 1, 70. 
 
 2 Pickle.] Ver. 430. Feemla. '* On feecula and garum, read the 
 commentators on Hor. Sat. ii. 8, 7> Faber.
 
 70 LUCRETIUS. B. 11. 437459. 
 
 delights it in issuing forth, as in the genial exercises of 
 Venus ; or when the seeds, from striking against each other, 
 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, 1 as it were, by branching atoms. 
 Among which kind 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. 2 
 
 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 3 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, 
 
 1 Compacted.] Ver. 446. Compacta. " Compacted " is not a word 
 iu general use, but is found in Hooker, and quoted by Johnson. 
 
 * Brazen hinges, which make a loud grating sound.] Ver. 450. 
 jEraqw, qua claustris restantia vociferantur. Claustra here means gates 
 or doors. " Kestantia quasi sustinentia." Faber. " JEra, brass, that 
 is, hinget of brass, which creak with the weight of the gates." Creech. 
 
 * For a draught of poppy juice, Sfc.] Ver. 453. Natnqite papaterit 
 haustus item est facilis quod aquarum. 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 body 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. 
 
 Glomeramina, in the next line, is evidently collections of particles, 
 as Lambinus understood it ; not round particles, as Creech will 
 have it
 
 B II. 460479. LUCRETIUS. 71 
 
 being as they aie, they may have a pungent effect upon the 
 body, 1 and penetrate roc ks, but cannot cohere together ; a power 
 which we all see to be granted to 'thorns. You may easily 
 understand, therefore, that they do mot 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, con- 
 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 at the same 
 time they may hurt the sense. And that you may the more cer- 
 tainly believe that rough are mixijd 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, 2 when it is often filtered 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 with it another proposition, which, depending on this, 
 
 1 May have a pungent effect upon the body.] Ver. 460. Pun- 
 gere uti posslnt coi-pus. " As they are easily dissipated, they do not 
 consist of atoms that link together, but 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, &c.] Ver 17k On 
 Jhis 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 sandy stratum rise ; 
 
 Amid whose angles infinitely strain'd, 
 
 They joyful leave tiieirjaygy salts behind, 
 
 And clear and sweeten as they soak along.
 
 72 LUCRETIUS. B. ii. 480501 
 
 derives its credit/row it ; that the primary-atoms of things vary 
 in figure, but only with a limited number of shapes. 1 If this 
 were not so, some seminal-principles would, moreover, necessa- 
 rily Ve 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 of 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 third arrangement will require still more, if you shall wish 
 by a third arrangement still 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 another by an infinite variety of shapes ; lest, by such 
 a supposition, you should make some to be of immense bulk ; 
 which I have already shown that it is not possible to prove. 
 
 And if such were the case, if the figures of a terms were in- 
 finite, barbaric garments, and shining Meliboean purple, 2 tinged 
 with the dye of shell-fish from Thessaly, as well as the golden 
 brood of peacocks, painted with smiling beauty, would-lose- 
 tb.eir-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 
 
 1 That the primary-atoms of things vary in figure, but only with 
 a limited number of shapes.] Ver. 480. Primordia rerum FinitA 
 V'iriare figurarum ratione. Epicurus taught, that the shapes of atoms 
 could not be infinite, as it is impossible to imagine an infinity of 
 figures in a finite body. Plutarch de Placit. Phil. i. 3. 
 
 * Barbaric garments, and shining Melibcean purple, %c.] Ver. 
 ?01. " If the shapes of atoms varied to infinity, there could be no 
 ertain and determinate extreme qualities of things in nature; for, 
 ly new configurations, objects might be so altered, that something 
 better than whatever was best, and worse than whatever was worst, 
 might still arise into being. Creech
 
 I ii. 505-528. LUCRETIUS. 73 
 
 swans, and the tunes 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, 
 and eyes, and taste of the palate. 
 
 Since this, hoivever, 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 speak, has been defined from the 
 heat of summer 1 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 ; 2 and the moderate 
 warmths of spring and autumn lie between both the other two 
 seasons, filling up the whole in succession. The seasons 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 primordial-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. 
 
 1 Lastly, a distance has been defined from the heat of summer, 
 $c. ] Ver. 515. He introduces this observation to show that things 
 in nature are limited ; that there are extreme bounds beyond which 
 it is not possible to pass, but within which there are many interme- 
 diate degrees of variation. 
 
 2 For the whole year in heat and cold.] Ver. 517. Omnis enim 
 caior ac frigus. Wakefield understands annus, " tamque ridiculum 
 snterpretem," says Lachmann, "nostrates venerabundi sequuntur." 
 Lachmann himself reads, from conjecture, Ambit enim, &c.
 
 74 LUCRETIUS. B. n. 529552 
 
 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 OF THINGS, from all eter- 
 nity, 1 by a succession 2 of movements on every side. 
 
 For though you see in any particular region certain ani- 
 mals to be more rare than others, and observe Nature, in those 
 less rare, to be more productive, 3 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, but of which we see very few specimens among us. 
 
 But yet, that I may, if you wish, grant this also, 4 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 whole 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, 
 jt will neither be possible for it to be produced, nor moreover, 
 $ 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, / ash, 
 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, 
 
 1 From all eternity.] Ver. 531. Ex infinite. " Abaeterno." Creech. 
 " Ab seternp tempore." Lambimis. 
 
 2 Succession.] Ver. 532. Protelo. See iv. 191. 
 
 * And observe Nature, in those less rare, to be more productive.] 
 Ver. 534. Fecundamque magis naturam cernis in ollis. This is Wake- 
 field's rending, and Forbiger's interpretation, if interpretation it can 
 be called ; for in truth the magiy makes the passage sheer nonsense. 
 Lambinus, and all other editors, except Wakefield, Forbiger, and 
 Eichstadt, read Fecundamque minus, which Lachmann has rein- 
 stated. 
 
 4 But yet, that I may grant this also.] Ver. 542. Sed tamen, id 
 yuoyue w/t concedam. This, 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. 552581. LUCRETIUS. 75 
 
 no method of combining themselves. But, as when gr?nt 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 sterns 2 
 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 will be, for ever ; 
 so that they can at no time, being driven together, unite in 
 Combination, or, if they should unite, remain in combination, cr 
 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 cla?s 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 ivhich 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 morning 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. 
 
 1 Hollow fragments.] Ver. 554. Cavernas. " This word it is easy 
 *o understand of any fragment of the interior of a ship." Wakefield. 
 Other editors read guberna. 
 
 2 Ornaments of sterns.] Ver. 556. Aplustra. " In Greek u<j>\anra. 
 They were ornaments, not on the prow, but on the stern ; for the 
 ornaments on the prow were called atcpooToXia." Faber.
 
 76 LUCRETIUS. B. ii. 582-619 
 
 In considering these points, it is proper for you, also, to 
 have it impressed, as with a seal, upon your mind, and to keep 
 itfailhftilly 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 atoms, 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, 
 burns ; and the violence of ^Etna rages with mighty flames. 
 Moreover, the earth contains atoms from which it can raise up 
 rich corn 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 called 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- 
 nifying 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 Idaean mother, and assign her bands of 
 Phrygians as attendants, because they say that from those 
 parts corn first began to be produced, and thence ivas 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 due 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 cymbal*, resound in their hands around the
 
 >. II. 620650. LUCRETIUS. 77 
 
 goddess ; and their horns threaten with a hoarse noine, 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 undutiful 
 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, thoy strew 
 the whole course of the road with brass and silver, enriching 
 her with munificent contributions ; while they diffuse a shower 
 of roses, overshadowing the mother and her troop of attend- 
 ants. Here the armed band, whom the Greeks call by the 
 name of Phrygian Curetes, dance round vigorously with ropes, 1 
 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 Jupiter, 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. 
 
 These 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 
 
 1 Dance round vigorously with ropes.] Ver. 631. Inter se forte 
 catenas Ludunt. That a rope was used in dancing both by Greeks 
 and Romans is known from Aristoph. Nub. 510; 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 Lambmus 
 adopted. Wakefield read sorte catervis, which even Forbiger did not 
 venture to retain Lachmann reads fuitt yiiod armit. Forte is for 
 fort>'ter.
 
 78 LUCRETIUS. B. n. tol-.Sl 
 
 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. If any one, then, shall resolve to call the sea Neptune, 
 and corn 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. 
 
 But to return, then, to the infinite variety of atoms, the 
 woolly sheep. 1 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 
 all follow habits according to their kinds ; so various is the 
 nature of the matter in each kind of herb ; so great is the 
 variety of particles in each river. Hence, moreover, though 
 the same 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- 
 mary-particles of an entirely 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 ;.nd 
 taste have been assigned, together with smell ; especially most 
 of the gifts which you offer to the gods, when you feel your 
 inind affected, in a debasing manner, 2 with religion. These 
 
 1 But to return, the woolly sheep, $e.] Ver. 660. Since different 
 'rts 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. 682707. LUCRETIUS. 79 
 
 tilings must therefore consist of various conformations of 
 atoms; for scent penetrates where juices ^chich excite the 
 taste do not make a way to the corporeal organs ; also juices 
 by their particular method, and flavour by 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 l 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 only a few common letters run through 
 the words, or because no two words, out of all, are alike in 
 having any letter in common ; 2 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 ; you icould behold shapes produced 
 half-man half-beast, and sometimes tall boughs of trees grow 
 out of an animated body ; you ivould observe many members 
 of terrestrial animals united to those of marine animals, and 
 nature breeding, throughout the all-producing earth, Chimai- 
 ras breathing flame from horrid mouths. Of which irregu- 
 
 field's reading ; other editions have parto. Wakefield also conjec- 
 ture s facto. 
 
 1 Besides, even in my own verses, <5rc.] 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. Aut nulla inter se duo sint ex omnibus 
 eadem. This is Forbiger's verse, which he calls paulo impeditiorem, 
 and thus illustrates, " Non quo duo (verba) ex omnibus nullft (litera) 
 inter se eadem sint: i. e. non quasi litera non in duobus verbis di- 
 yersis occurrere possit." Lambinus reads, aut nulla (verba sc.) 
 inter se duo sint ex omnibus isdem (literis sc.). Wakefield for isdfn 
 substituted cidem, versui sc. And Lachmann gives, Aut nulli (versus 
 *c.) inter se duo sint ex omnibus idem. Any one of these is better th*a 
 Forbiger's monster.
 
 80 LUCRETIUS. B. ii. 708- 734. 
 
 larities it is evident that none occur, since we see that all 
 things, being produced from certain seeds, by an unerring 
 generative nature, 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 that 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 tilings 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 attend further,^ 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 whita, 
 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, 
 
 1 And now attend further, <Sre,] Ver. 729. " He now proceeds to 
 show that the primary-atoms are void of colour, and indeed of al) 
 qualities, except shane, size, and weight." Lambinus. This is in. 
 tonformity with the doctrine of Epicurus, as given in the Epistle tc 
 Hetodoius, 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 thatofihe bodies in 
 which they exist, or dissimilar. Into the nature of 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 aw&yfrom the truth. Since, when those who 
 have been born 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, 1 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 2 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, seminal-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- 
 dsnly 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 marbl *, 
 For you may readily say of any object which we generally 
 observe to be black, that, when its material-atoms have been. 
 
 1 For whatsoever being changed, *c.] Ver. 753. See i. 671. 
 * For your gratification.] Ver. 756. Tibi.
 
 82 LUCRETIUS. n. ii. 779-797 
 
 disturbed, and the order of the particles changed, and some 
 taken away and others added, it forthwith becomes possible 
 that it may seem of a glowing whiteness. 1 But if the waters 
 of the sea consisted of caerulean atoms, they could by no means 
 become white ; for, in whatever way you may disorder and 
 commingle those atoms which are cerulean, 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 toe see, from different 
 forms and dissimilar figures, is formed a perfect square, con- 
 sisting of 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 colours, from which 
 the uniform colour of the sea proceeds. 
 
 Further, the different figures which make up the square, by 
 no means hinder or prevent the whole outline 2 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 from other white sub- 
 stances; nor substances which are black, from other black sub- 
 stances; but from substances of various 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, 3 you may hence feel certain that they are vested with 
 
 1 Of a g 1 owing whiteness.] Ver. 771- Candens et album. 
 
 * Whole outline.] Ver. 785. Omne extra. " In superficie et am- 
 bitu." Gifanius. 
 
 * And the primary-p.-irticles of things do not come forth into the 
 light.] Ve.. 796. Neyue in lucem existunt primordia rentm. This is 
 not true, for the primary-particles that are on the surface of tilings 
 do come > h into the light. " He reasons thus," says Lambinus;
 
 B ii 798-817. LUCRETIUS. 83 
 
 no colours at all. For what sort of colour will there possiblv 
 exist in thick darkness, when colour is a thing which is 
 changed in and by 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 of the bright carbuncle ; at another time, in 
 a certain aspect, 1 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, as 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 all, without that light. 
 
 Since, too, the pupil of the eye 2 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, a* 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 
 they are combined. 
 
 Besides, since there is no certain kind of colours peculiar 3 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 light on surfaces collectively. 
 
 1 In a certain aspect ] Ver. 804. Quodam sensu. "As the French 
 say, speaking of vision, en un certain sens; or, as in ver. 808, quodam 
 luminis ictu." Faber. 
 
 2 Since, too, the pupil of the eye, Sfc.] 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 requisite; therefore primary- 
 atoms, which act on the eye by touch, have no need of colour to 
 produce their effects, and may be considered to be without it. 
 
 3 Besides, since there is no certain kind of colours peculiar, frc.] 
 Ver. 817. "The force of the argument is this: Suppose that the 
 primary-atoms of things have colour, those who maintain this opin- 
 ion will surely not say that certain coloirs of atoms are peculiar t 
 
 a 2
 
 84 LUCRETIUS. s. ". 818845. 
 
 certain shapes, and since all shapes of seminal-atoms may exist 
 with any colour whatsoever, why, if we suppose that seminal- 
 atoms, which are of manifold shapes, have colour, 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 be ? For, under this 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 born black, or, if 
 from atoms of any other colour, might be 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 of 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 heat and cold ; 1 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, Stc., 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 born not black, but white, or green, or blue, or variegated. But 
 this never happens ; atoms are therefore without colour." Lambinus. 
 Altogether destitute of heat and cold.] Ver. 844. Secreta teporit 
 ac frigoris omnino calidique vaporis. I have not thought it necen- 
 miry to give more than one word for heat; and have made a similar 
 abbreviation in ver. 858
 
 . ii. 846867 LUCRETIUS. 85 
 
 send out any odour of their own from their substance. Thus 
 when you proceed to compound a sweet ointment of amaracus,' 
 and myrrh, and the flower of nard, which breathes nectar to 
 the nostrils, it is, in the first place, proper to seek, as far aa 
 is convenient, and as 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 thai 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 that we perceive to have sense, you must necessarily 
 acknowledge to consist wholly of senseless atoms. 3 Nor do 
 manifest appearances,* which are readily observed, refute this 
 
 1 Sweet ointment of amaracus, %c.~\ Ver. 847. Sicut amaracini 
 blandum stacteeque liquorem Et nardi florem, nectar qui naribus halat. 
 Amaracus is generally understood to be sweet-marjoram. Stacta is 
 liquid myrrh. Nardus 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 are 
 themselves the substance of the perfumes. 
 
 2 Other qualities, moreover, $c.J Ver. 859. 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 petition.] Ver. 867. 
 
 Xeque ul manifesta refutant. " A common argument of Epicurus. 
 
 role <j>atvouivoi." Faber.
 
 gg LUCRETIUS. B. n. 868894 
 
 position, or in the least oppose it, but rather themselves lead 
 us 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 
 pastures 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, 
 therefore, changes all kinds of food into living 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, 
 and turns all combustible 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, 1 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, 2 that I do not say that what has sense, or 
 that senses themselves, are of course 3 produced from all atoms in 
 general, whatsoever generate things ; but that it is of great im- 
 portance, in the first place, of what size those atoms are which 
 
 1 Stones, and wood, and earth, $0."] 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. 
 
 2 It will be proper for you to remember this principle.] Ver. 891. 
 Illud in his igitur fcedus meminisse decebit. I have translated fcedus 
 "principle," but the reading ought doubtless to be Illud in his 
 igitur rebus, which Lambinus suggested, and which Lachmann haa 
 adopted. 
 
 1 Of course.] Ver. 893. Extemplo. Forthwith, readily, without 
 difficulty.
 
 B. ii. 895911. 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, from our imperfect perceptions, see nothing take 
 place in wood 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 
 sense 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 substances we see exist and 
 grow in a mortal body. 
 
 But let it be supposed, for a moment, that these atoms, oj 
 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 member, if separated from the body, breaks off con- 
 nexion with the other senses of the other members ; 2 nor can 
 
 1 Must either have sense as parts of animals, t$c.] Ver. 908. Sen- 
 gum partis habere. " Talem sensum habebunt, qtialem habent par- 
 tes." Lambinus. 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 nervos; 
 but it ought to agree with primordia, (comp. ver. 916,) or to refer to 
 the primordia in some way. Lambinus and Creech read similia. 
 Lachmann has given, Aut simili totis animalibus (scilicet sensu) esse 
 putari. 
 
 2 For every part and member, if separated from the body, breaks off 
 connexion with the other senses of the other members.] Ver. 911. 
 Namque alias sensus membrorum respuit omnis. I have translated this 
 line according to the interpretation of Lambinus : omnis " pars a 
 toto separata, aliarum omnium partium siiarum sensus rejicit ac re- 
 spuit." But the reading can hardly be sound. Gifanius proposed 
 namque alitim sensus tnembrorum res petit omnis, which Havercamp 
 admitted into the text. Lachmann gives something different: 
 "Quid poeta voluerit," says he, " dubiuin esse non potest; negat 
 enim membra singula scorsum sentiri posse, quippe qxis> ad aliud 
 referantur, hoc est, ad animam : neque hoc difficile est ex verbis 
 leviter corruptis extundere: namque alio se>isus memb-forum respicit 
 omnis." This is not very satisfactory.
 
 88 LUCRETIUS. s. n. 912935. 
 
 the hand, when dissevered from us, nor any part of the body 
 whatsoever, 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? 
 
 Yet if we allow that primordial atoms, though imperishable, 
 may nevertheless be endowed with iense t they will necessarily 
 in that case produce nothing but a cr-Mvd 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 inanimate, as trees and metals, be produced? It is 
 only on this supposition, accordingly, 1 (viz. that they can ge- 
 nerate nothing but sentient beings,) that we should be obliged, 
 as far as we see, to allow primordial-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 2 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 
 
 1 It is only on this supposition, accordingly, 4f c -] Ver. 923. Sie 
 itidem, qua sentirmis, sentire necesse est. This verse appeared so inex- 
 plicable to Lambinus, that he struck it out ; and Lachmann ha 
 done the same. The sense which I have given to it, is taken from 
 Wakefield. 
 
 * Certainly.] Ver. 931. Duataxat. See Scheller's Lexicon. And 
 comp. ii. 122.
 
 B. ii 936962. 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, 1 has it so united as to engender in itself those con- 
 cordant vital motions, by which the all-observing senses of ani- 
 mals being generated, direct and preserve every living creature. 
 
 Besides, a blow inflicted, if heavier 2 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, 1 
 say, over the effects of it, and calm the violent disorders occa- 
 sioned b** the stroke, and recall every thing again into its 
 proper cilinnel ; 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, 3 even from 
 the very threshold of dissolution, rather than depart and pass 
 away to the bourne to which they had almost accomplished 
 their course ? 
 
 1 Nor, though it may have united, #c.] Ver. 942. Nee congressa 
 modo. " That is, si modo sit co:igressa ; si hoc etiam eveniat." Wake- 
 field. Lucretius means to sa\ that there is abundance of matter for 
 producing animals dispersed throughout the earth, $c., but which 
 has not yet combined to produce vital motions. 
 
 2 Besides, a blow inflicted, if heavier, <Src.] 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. 
 
 8 The mind being re-established.] Ver. 961. ConjectA mente. "The 
 mind collecting itself into the most vital part " Wakefield.
 
 \ 
 
 90 LUCRETIUS. B. it. 963-995 
 
 Furthermore, since pain happens when the principles of 
 matter in any living body, disturbed by any force throughout 
 the viscera or the limbs, are agitated in their situations with- 
 in, and driven from their proper places ; and since au agree- 
 able pleasure succeeds when they return into their places ; it 
 is but right to infer, that primordial-atoms can be affected 
 with no pain, and enjoy no pleasure, of themselves ; for they, 
 being primary bodies, do not consist of those combinations 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, the elements of which the human race is peculiarly 
 constituted, both laugh, shaking their sides l 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 being 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 AETHER, 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 
 
 1 Laugh, shaking their sides, %c ] Ver. 976. See i. 918.
 
 . ti. 996--1022. LUCRETIUS. *>! 
 
 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 colours, and 
 receive perception, and in a moment of time yield it up again. 
 So that you may understand it to be of the greatest import- 
 ance with 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 suri\ice of things, and some- 
 times apparently born 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, alike, 1 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, and configurations of the atoms of 
 matter are interchanged, the things which are formed from 
 them must also be changed. 
 
 1 If the wm-ds are not all, yet by far the greater part are, alike, 
 S;c.~] Ver. 1017. Si non omnia sint, at tnulto maxima pars est Consimilis. 
 I have translated this according to Wakefield's exposition : " liters 
 eaedem, plures paucioresve, in verbis lonije pluribus inveniuntur." 
 But I am not quite sure that this sense can fairly be extracted from 
 it. Creech's interpretation is, " Si non oinnes sunt eaedem literae, 
 at multo maxima pars eadem est," which can scarcely be thought 
 intended to throw light on the subject. Lachmann seems to refei 
 omnia to verba, but gives no further illustration. Other commenta- 
 tors and translators afford no help whatsoever.
 
 52 LUCRETIUS. B. ii. 10231050 
 
 Give your attention now, closely, 1 to the conclusions of juat 
 reasoning, from what we have previously 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 first, 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, / say, 
 now first presented to them unexpectedly and suddenly, what 
 could be mentioned, which would be more wonderful than 
 these phenomena, or which the nations of the world 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, as I 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 effort of thought itself earnestly- 
 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 
 
 1 Give your attention now, closely, $ c -] Ver. 1023. Nunc animum 
 nobis adhibe, &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. 1051-1080. LUCRETIUS. 93 
 
 the profound itself makes clear as light. But by no means 
 can it be thought probable, when infinite space lies open in 
 every quarter, and when seminal-atoms, of incomputable 
 number and unfathomable sum, driven about by everlasting 
 motion, fly through 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 2 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 3 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 are other orbs of earth 
 in other regions of space, and 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 especially, you will, by your own observation, 4 see this 
 
 1 Jostling about.] Ver. 1059. Forte offensando. 
 
 2 Became in succession.] Ver. 1062. Fierent semper. From time 
 to time. 
 
 3 Generated.] Ver. 1069. Geri. Properly, carried on. Lambinus 
 read geni. 
 
 4 By your own observatior, ] Ver. 1080. Indice mente. " By the 
 observation of your mind ; i " you attend to the suggestions and ad 
 monitions of reason." Wakefield.
 
 94 LUCRETIUS. B. n 10811110. 
 
 to be the case as to the brood of wild beasts thatl'ange over 
 the mountains ; you will 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 these follow 
 | the same general law* as other things that arise and decay; 
 the limit of existence, deeply and unalterably fixed, awaits 
 these parts of nature as well as others, and they 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, as a free agent, released from tyrant masters, to do 
 V 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 ? 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, as 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 
 
 1 Race of men, male and female.] Ver. 1082. Hominum geminam 
 proicm. " Utrumque sexum." Creech, \\.genitamprolem. 
 
 * Since these follow the same general law, $c.] Ver. 1087. In intro- 
 ducing these words, I follow Lambinus's elucidation.
 
 .ii.llll-1138. LUCRETIUS. 95 
 
 every body in nature, from all regions of space, are con- 
 tributed, by the agitation of particles, its own proper atoms, and 
 they betake themselves severally to their own kinds of mat- 
 tfr; (he particles oj moisture pass to water ; the earth is in- 
 creased with atoms of earth; and the fiery-principles produce 
 fire, and the aerial air ; until, a* stick operations proceeded, 
 nature, the perfectress 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 flows away and passes off. In these cir- 
 cumstances, the age and growth of all beings l 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 buii^, 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 2 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 and sinks 
 down to its decline. Since the larger any creature is, at the 
 time when its increase is stopped, and th-:- greater is its extent 
 of surface, the more atoms it disperses, 3 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 from the food, in proportion to theeffluvia which 
 the body discharges, 4 whence as much support as is necessary 
 
 1 In these circumstances, the age and growth of all beings, c.J 
 Ver. 1120. Omnibus his (etas debet consistere rebus. I do not consider 
 that omnibus agrees with rebus, but that it is in the daiive case, and 
 his rebus in the ablative. In four MSS. Lambinus found Omnibus 
 hie, (See., which will give the same sense, though omnibus be then re- 
 garded as agreeing with rebus. 
 
 2 Dilated/] Ver. 1126. Dispersa. " Dilatata." Creech. 
 
 3 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, M modo plura dispergit." Wakefield. 
 
 4 In proportion to the effluvia vr\iich~?ke body discharges.j \ er.
 
 96 LUCRETIUS. B. ". 1139 1161 
 
 can arise and be supplied to it, 1 and whence nature can recruit 
 what is requisite. Bodies, therefore, naturally decay, as they 
 are wasted by their substance passing off, 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 likewise the walls of the great world, being assailed 
 around, shall suffer decay, and fall into mouldering ruins. 
 For, if things are kept in vigour, it is nourishment that must 
 recruit them all by renewal ; and it is nourishment that must 
 support, nourishment that must sustain all. But it is in vain 
 to expect that this frame of the world will last for ever ; for 
 neither do its veins, so to speak, 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. The 
 earth, I say, which produced all creatures; for it was not, as 
 I conceive, a golden chain from above 2 that let down the tribes 
 of mortals from heaven into the fields ; nor 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 accord, 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, 3 though assisted and aug- 
 
 1137. Pro quam largos exastuat eestus. Proquam is rare. It occurs 
 again iii. 200. 
 
 1 Whence as much suftjort as is necessary, $e.] Ver. 1138. Unde 
 queant tantum suboriri ac suppeditare. " Queant, sc. corpora," say 
 Wakefield. Others read queat. which is more satisfactory. Vnde, 
 whence, i. e. from the food. 
 
 * Golden chain from above.] Ver. 1155. "All creatures, I say, 
 sprung from the earth ; for living things were not, as the assertoirs 
 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 things." Faber. 
 
 1 Scarcely reach-a-full-growth.] Ver. 1161. Vix grandescunt. This 
 eomplamt of the decay and degeneracy of things has been common
 
 a. it. 11621175. LUCRETIUS. 97 
 
 merited by our toil. We both wear out our oxen and exhaust 
 the strength of our husbandmen, being scarcely supplied with 
 fruits from our slowly-yielding fields. To such a degree do 
 the productions of the earth decline, and increase only with 
 human labour. And in 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 of men, full of piety, spent their lives happily 1 within 
 narrow limits, when the portion of land, cultivated formerly 
 by each individual, was much less than at present; nor does 
 his untaught 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 Lift; 
 of Milton. 
 
 1 Spent their lives happily.] Ver. 1172. Perfacilttolerartt avom, 
 " Beati viverent ; as in Terence, Quam vos facile vivitis ! and in .Homer 
 II. vii. 138, psta ^uovrtf is applied to the gods," Faber.
 
 BOOK IIL 
 
 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 (ver. 1 13) with a eulogy 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, ver. 14 40. Many who pretend to be 
 free from this fear, are still disquieted with it ; and it is often the source of 
 crimes, ver. 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 the body, as some philosophers taught, ver. 94 106. Reasons ou the 
 separate affections of the body and mind, on sleep, on corporeal mutila- 
 tions, and on the cessation of breathing, ver. 107 137. Uses the terms 
 mind and soul indiscriminately, yet shows that the mind (animus) is the 
 chief part, residing in the middle of the breast, the soul (anima) being 
 diffused throughout the body, and under the direction of the mind, ver. 
 138 161. That this mind, and soul, are corporeal, acting on the body by 
 material impact, and consisting of minute atoms, imperceptible to the 
 senses, ver. 161 231. That the substance of the soul and mind is not 
 simple, but composed of four subtle consistences, heat, air, aura, and a 
 fourth, to which no name is given, ver. 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, ver. 324 370. He then refutes the 
 opinion of Democritus, who thought that the soul and body had corre- 
 spondent parts, ver. 371 396. Shows that the preservation of life depends 
 more on the mind than on the soul, yer. 397 417. Afterwards he demon- 
 strates, by twenty strict arguments, and six additional observations, thiit 
 the soul perishes with the body, ridiculing, by the way, the Pythagorean 
 transmigration, ver. 418 841. Hence he observes, that, 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 regret 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, ver. 842 988. Says that all the Tarta- 
 rean sufferings which are dreaded after death, are witnessed and endured 
 in life, ver. 989 1036. Consoles mankind, by observing that the best men 
 have died as well as the worst, and exhorts them to contemplate death 
 with reason and calmness, ver. 1037 1088. Concludes with a few more 
 moral reflections to the same purpose, ver. 1089 1107.
 
 100 LUCRETIUS. B m. 1-24 
 
 O 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, 1 yet not 
 because I am so eager to rival, as because, from the love which 
 I feel for thee, 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; 2 thou suppliest to us paternal precepts, and 
 from thy writings, O illustrious teacher, as bees gather 3 from 
 all blossoms in the flowery glades, so we feed upon thy golden 
 words ; golden, / say, and most worthy of perpetual existence. 
 
 For as soon as thy system of philosophy began to proclaim 
 aloud the NATURE OF THINGS, as it arose in thy divine intel- 
 lect, 4 the terrors of the mind disperse ; the walls of the world 
 open ; I see things conducted throughout the mighty void of 
 space ; the calm divinity of the gods 5 appears, and their tran- 
 quil abodes, which neither winds disturb, nor clouds sprinkle 
 with showers, nor snow falling white, congealed with sharp 
 frost, inconveniences; 6 but the pure air is always cloudless, 
 and smiles with widely effulgent light. 7 To them, moreover, 
 nature supplies all things, nor does any cause, at any time, 
 diminish the tranquillity of their minds. But the regions of 
 
 1 Steps of my feet formed upon thy impressed traces.] Ver. 4. 
 Ficta pedum pono pressis vestigia signis. " Ponoque vestigia pedum 
 (i. e. sola pedum) ficta (i. e. se fingentia,) effigiata, deformata, in 
 tuis signis, vel signis tuorum pedum." Wakefield. 
 
 2 Discoverer of truths.] Ver. 9. Rerum inventor. "Philosophise 
 auctor, founder of true philosophy." Creech. 
 
 3 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. 
 
 4 Thy divine intellect.] Ver. 15. Divinu mente coortam. This is the 
 reading of Wakefield, referring to the mind of Epicurus ; Lambinus 
 and his followers read haud divinu mente, that is, not from the mind 
 of the gods. 
 
 * Calm divinity of the gods.] See i. 646651. 
 
 ' 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. 
 
 1 Effulgent light.] Yer. 22. Diffuse lumiiie. See i. 9.
 
 B in. 2553. LUCRETIUS. 101 
 
 Acheron., on the other hand, are no where apparent ; nor does 
 the dark earth hinder but tl at all things, whatever are done 
 beneath our feet 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 atoms 
 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 ; 2 and since I have also de- 
 monstrated 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 3 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, 4 that all these observations are 
 thrown out more for the sake of praise and vain-i/lory, 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 whithersoever, 
 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, 
 
 1 And since I have shown, $e.] Ver. 31. " Having, in the first and 
 second books, 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 panishment after death." Creech. 
 
 * Of their own accord.] Ver 33. i. e. By their own weight. 
 
 * Driven utterly from our minds.] Ver. 37. Prceceps agwidut, 
 " Elliptically for in praceps, as if in prcecipitium." Waktifield. 
 
 * For the reasons that follow.] Ver. 46. Hittc.
 
 102 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 54 S2. 
 
 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 
 .ire 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, as the accomplices and ministers of crimes, to strive 
 night and day, with excessive labour, to rise to the height of 
 power ; these passions, I say, which are the wounds and 
 plagues 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 state 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, from 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 1 of their relations. 
 
 From the same terror, 2 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. 3 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; 4 forgetting that this fear is the source of all 
 
 1 Dread the tables, #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. 
 
 3 Tossed about in obscurity and dishonour.] Ver. 77. In teiiebris 
 volvi canoque. In darkness and in dirt. 
 
 4 To such a degree, commit self-murder.] Ver. 79, seq. "This 
 
 strange and inconsistent effect of fear is wtll 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.III. 83 98. LUCRETIUS. 103 
 
 cares ; l that this violates modesty, that this bursts the bonds 
 of friendship ; this, 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, 2 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 ai-rows of day, that must dispel, but the contemplation 
 of nature, and the exercise of reason. 
 
 First, then, I say, that the mind, 3 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, 
 
 Will run away from death, by dying." Good. 
 
 Men, rather than live perpetually in fear of the worst, dare the 
 worst. 
 
 1 Forgetting that this fear is the source, <Src.] Ver- 82. Obliti fan- 
 tern curarum hunc esse timorem. 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 crime, to preserve a miserable 
 existence, but might either terminate their lives 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 
 
 2 Since, as children tremble, $e.] Ver. 88. These lines are takeu 
 from ii. 55, seq. , and Lucretius was so well pleased with them that they 
 are repeated again, vi. 35. " Men fear death," says Bacon, (Essays 
 ii.) " as children fear to go into the dark ; and as that natural fear \ 
 in children is increased with tales, so is the other." 
 
 1 First, then, I say that the mind, $c.] Ver. 94s Primum animum 
 dico, mentem quern scrpe vocamus, In quo consilium vita regimenque loca- 
 twn sst, Esse hominis 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 Hie, is 
 otless apart ofw than the hand or foot.
 
 104 LUCEETTCTS. B. in. 99119. 
 
 thought that the sense of the mind is not placed in any cer- 
 tain part, but is a kind of vital habit or resulting power of 
 the body, (called by the Greeks a harmony,) 1 which causes 
 us to live endowed with a mental sense, though the mind is 
 situate in no particular part of us. As, frequently, when 
 good health is said to be a sensation of the body, and yet this 
 health is itself no portion of the person that enjoys health ; so 
 \hose 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 2 
 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 with 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 all the empty solicitudes of the heart. 
 
 And now, also, that you may be further convinced that the 
 soul is actually one among our members, 3 and is not wont to 
 hold or occupy the body as a harmony, 4 it happens in the first 
 
 1 Harmony.] Ver. 101. Many however have thought otherwise, 
 and some have considered the mind to be a mere effect 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 the nature and shape of the body, 
 as tunes spring from the consenting motions of musical instruments. 
 The same opinion is m ticed and confuted by Aristotle de Anima, i. 
 i. Allusion is also made to it in Plato's Phaedo. 
 
 2 Feel pleasure.] Ver. 108. Latamur. A little below (ver. 110) 
 I have rendered Quotn miser ex animo ketatur corpore toto, " is well in 
 his whole body ; " for we can hardly say that he who is wretched in 
 mind rejoices or feels pleasure in his whole body. 
 
 3 One among our members.] Ver. 118. In membris. That is, says 
 Lambinus, in numero membrorum, in the number of our members. 
 
 * To hold the body as a harmony.] Ver. 119. Neque harmonium 
 corpus retinere solere. The reader of the Latin may be in doubt 
 whether the construction is harmonium retinere corpus, &r corpus rt- 
 tinere harmonium. Wakefield and the Delphin editor put it in tk
 
 a in 120-137. LUCRETIUS? 105 
 
 place, you may observe, that, even when much ol the body ig 
 taken away, the life nevertheless often remains in the mem- 
 bers that are left ; l 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 conclude 
 from hence, that all particles of the body have not equal parts 
 and powers, but that those which are the constituent-atoms 
 of air and quickening heat, 2 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 
 of it. 
 
 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, 3 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 4 are held united with 
 
 way in which I have given it; the other commentators say nothing 
 on the point. 
 
 1 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 undimimshed in vigour, when the body is no longer whole. 
 It will be seen below, (ver. 232, seg.,) that he makes the anima, 
 (or rather the anima and animus conjoined,) which he does not 
 make distinct from the vital power, to consist of heat, a certain aura, 
 air, and a fourth substance, to which he gives no name, but which is 
 the origin of sense and motion in the human frame. 
 
 2 Quickening heat.] Ver. 127. Calidlque vaporis. Warm or warm- 
 ing heat. Compare ver. 216. 
 
 3 From any other quarter.] Ver. 134. Aliunde porro. From any 
 other place else. Porro is equivalent to eke or besides. 
 
 * I now affirm that the mind and soul, Ac.] 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 
 diffused throughout the body, and which is often itself affected with 
 pleasure or pain, when the soul connected with it ia wholly un- 
 moved.
 
 106 LUCRETIUS. B. 1:1. 138168. 
 
 one another, and form of themselves one nature or substance; 
 but that that which is as it were the head, and which rules in 
 the whole body, is the reason, the thinking or intellectual part 
 which we call mind and understanding; 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 intellectual part thinks of itself alone, and rejoices for itself, 
 at times when nothing of the kind moves either the rest of the 
 soul or the body. And 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 alone, 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, sympathize 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 a corporeal nature ? 
 
 1 The same reasoning mind and soul corporeal.! Ver. 162. 
 As the mind and soul act upon the body, they must be corporeal, 
 for nothing but body can act upon body ; as he asserts i. 305 : Tan- 
 fere enim, et tangi, nisi corpus, nulla potest res
 
 B. in. 169183. LUCRETIUS 107 
 
 Besides, you see that the mind suffers with the body, 1 and 
 sympathizes for us with the body. Thus, if the violent force 
 of a dart, driven into the body, 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, 2 and 
 when we are on the ground, a perturbation 3 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 violence. 
 
 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, 4 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. 5 No- 
 thing is seen to be done in so swift a way, 6 as if the mind pro- 
 
 ! Suffers with the body.] Ver. 169. Fungi cum corpore. Facere et 
 fungi sine corpore nulla potest res, i. 444. 
 
 9 Agreeable inclination-to-sink-to the ground.] Ver. 173. Terrceque 
 petitus suavis. 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. 
 
 3 Perturbation.] Ver. 174. Mstus. " Conturbatio." Lambinus. 
 " Fluctuatio." Wakejield. 
 
 4 In the first place extremely 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 
 \tTTTopepe e croJ/xa, and says that it consists of atoms not very dissimi- 
 lar to those of fire. 
 
 4 From the following arguments.] Ver. 182. Hinc. 
 8 Nothing is seen to be done in so swift a way, $e.] Ver. 183. 
 Nil adeo fieri celeri ratione videtur, 
 Quam si mens fieri proponit, et inchoat ipsa. 
 
 This seems to be but a cumbrous and circuitous way of expressing 
 that nothing is so active as thought. Good has it, 
 
 nought so swiftly speeds 
 As what the mind determines and completes. 
 
 Creech contents himself with 
 
 no action is so swiftly done 
 As what the mind begins. 
 
 Busby is very spirited, to show how Lucretius ought to have ej( 
 pressed himself:
 
 108 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 181214. 
 
 poses it to be done, and itself undertakes it. The mind, 
 therefore, impels itself more speedily than any thing, among 
 all 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 ivc 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 ; l for its whole mass of material-particles clings more 
 closely 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 such effect upon a heap of stones and darts; 
 particles, therefore, according as they are most diminutive 2 
 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 your future in- 
 quiries. 
 
 This fact also 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, 
 -i- 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'lt well perceive ; 
 For what its point so swiftly can achieve 
 As mind? In boundless nature what can vie 
 With its unlimited velocity? 
 
 1 Movement more tardy.] Ver. 193. Cunctantior actius. "Actus: 
 
 i. e. motus. Festus. " Actus significat motum corporis." WakefieM. 
 
 * According as they are most diminutive, e.] Ver. 200. *Par- 
 
 vissima pro quam et levissima sunt. Comp. ii. 1136. The Lexicon! 
 
 upply no other instances of pro yuam but these two.
 
 a. l.i. 215 233. LUCRETIUS. 109 
 
 nothing as to weight, from the whole body. Death leaves all 
 things entire, 1 except vital sense and quickening heat. 8 
 
 It must therefore necessarily be the 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 ; 3 
 just as is the case when the aroma of wine has flown ofF, or 
 when the sweet odour of ointment has passed away into the 
 air, or when the flavour has departed from any savoury sub- 
 stance ; 4 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 body, 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 
 
 1 Death leaves all things entire.] Ver. 215. Mors omnia prastat. 
 " Mors omnia relinquit integra." Lambinus. " Facit ne quid detri- 
 ment! in mole corporis appareat." Faber. 
 
 2 Quickening heat.] Ver. 217. Calidumque vaporem. Compare 
 ver. 127. 
 
 * Nor is an atom of weight withdrawn.] Ver. 221. Nee defit pon- 
 deris hilum. " Hilum they consider to be that which adheres to a 
 bean," (as we say, the black of a bean,} " from which comes nihil and 
 ni/tilum." Festtis. " The ancients used hilum for ullum, any (small) 
 thing." Priscian, b. vi. p. 687. 
 
 4 Flavour has departed from any savoury substance.] Ver. 224. 
 Suciis de corpore cessit. Sucus, or succus, is evidently here nothing 
 more than flavour; as, probably, in Hor. Sat. ii. 4, 70, Picens 
 cedunt pomis Tiburtia succo. The reader, I fear, will hardly be- 
 lieve me, when I tell him that Good traslates it, 
 
 From man 
 TV excreted lymph exhales. 
 
 * Subtle aura.'] Ver. 233. Tennis aura. I have thought it better 
 to preserve the word aura in the English, than to render it by ro- 
 vottr, or, as Good has it, " gas." A few verses below, Lucre thu 
 calls it tenti cceca poiestat.
 
 110 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 234 26t5. 
 
 with heat, leaves dying persons; the heat, moreover, carries 
 air with it ; nor is there an} 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 substance 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, 1 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 of all. 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 princ'ples 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, 
 
 1 A certain fourth nature, <>* substance."] Ver. 242. Quarto, qu&dam 
 tiatura The reader now understands Lucretiu's composition of the 
 soul. See note on ver. 121.
 
 B. in. 267-297. LUCKETIUS. Ill 
 
 they are, as it were, the power of a single body. As, in the 
 herd of animals, whichsoever you would inspect, 1 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, 2 ) 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 the 
 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 burns, 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 burn in wrath, there is 
 more heat ; in which class especially is the violent fury of 
 
 1 As, in the herd of animals, whichsoever you would inspect.] 
 Ver. 267. Quod genus, in quo vis animantum visere vulgo. Quod genus 
 is the same as quemadmodum; 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 visere 
 yulgo," says Wakefield, "is in vulgo animantum, quo vis visere, 
 i. e. quemcunque animantem veils intueri. " The editions before 
 Wakefield read in quovis viscere, which Lachmann has recalled. 
 
 * Viscera.] Ver. 273. Viscera meant all parts under the skin, except 
 bone. See on i. 833.
 
 112 LUCRETIUS B. in. 298-323. 
 
 lions, which, raging, often burst, as it were, 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, applied to him, 1 ever irritate him to 
 fury like that of the lion, suffusing him with a shade of thick 
 darkness ; 2 nor is he torpid, transfixed with the cold darts of 
 aura; but is situate between the two natures, those of deer 
 and fiercer lions. 
 
 Thus is the race of men. Each has a certain temperament; 
 K 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 k 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 
 will regard certain things more indulgently 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. 
 
 But, 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 3 by her dictates, that 
 nothing hinders men from leading a life worthy of the gods. 
 
 1 Nor does the smoky torch of wrath, applied to him, $e.] Ver. 
 3(M. Nee minus ira'i fax nunq-uam subdita percit Fwnida. There 
 seems scarcely any possibility of extracting satisfactory sense from 
 this line, unless by considering minus nunquam equal to unquam ; 
 and this construction I have adopted. Lambinus read, nee nimis ira'i 
 fax unquam; and had Lachmann. who follows Lambinus, and who 
 in other places animadverts severely on Wakefield and Forbiger, 
 paid that nobody but they could think this verse in a right state, 
 most readers would surely have agreed with him. The meaning is 
 evident; that the ox may be excited, but not to the same degree as 
 the lion. 
 
 2 Suffusing darkness.] Ver. 305. Suffundens cac<B caliginis timbram. 
 1 So small are the traces left of the natural principles, which rea- 
 son cannot remove.] Ver. 321. 
 
 Usque adeo naturarum vestigia linqui 
 Parvola, quae nequeat ratio depellere dictis.
 
 . m. 324 361. LUCRETIUS. 113 
 
 This mental nature, therefore, 1 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 separate 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 all 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. 2 
 
 Besides, the body is never produced, 3 nor ever grows, by 
 itself ; nor is it observed to retain-its-existence after death, or 
 the departure of the soul from it. For it is net as when the 
 liquid-substance of water frequently throws off heat, which 
 has been communicated to it, nor is on that account dispersed 
 itself ; not so, I say, can the limbs, when deserted by the soul, 
 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 womb 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 heat, air, and aura t 
 of which (with the fourth, or reason) the soul and mind consist. 
 Some, as Lambinus observes, would read natural. 
 
 1 This mental nature, therefore, <Src.] Ver. 324. " This nature, com- 
 posed of the four above-mentioned substances." Lambinus. 
 
 2 Common motions one witli the other.] Ver. 336. Communibiu 
 inter eos utrinque motibus. Utrinque : proceeding from both. The 
 fourth substance of the mind, however, is the prime mover, ver. 2-16. 
 
 8 Besides, the body is never produced, $] Ver. 338. Prteterec 
 corpus per se nee gignitur unquam. " The body, whether of mail, or 
 of any other animal. " Lambinus. 
 
 l
 
 1 ] 4 LUCBETIUS. . ni. 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 be not that which experience itself has manifestly 
 shown and taught us ? But the soul being set free from the 
 body, 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. 1 
 
 To affirm, moreover, that the eyes 2 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 mind, 3 
 and attracts it from within, to the sights or pupils themselves. 
 While, let it especially be considered, we are often unable to 
 look at bright objects, because our eyes are prevented by their 
 effulgence ; which is not the case with regard to mere doors ; 
 for mere open doors, where we look through, do not fcel any 
 inconvenience. Besides, if our eyes are only instead of doors 
 the mind, when the eyes are taken out, and the door-posts 
 themselves, so to speak, removed, seems bound to see even 
 more clearly than before. 
 
 On these points, you can by no means assume as true 9 that 
 
 1 And it besides loses many things as the soul is-being-expelled 
 by age.] Ver. 359. Multaqite prceterea perdit, quum expellitur cevo. 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, includes it in brackets. Lachmann gives 
 nullaque, from conjecture. 
 
 1 To affirm, moreover, that the eyes, <?rc.] Ver. 360. Dicere porro 
 offulos, &c. There were some who thought that the whole body did 
 not possess or exercise sense, but the mind only, which, residing in 
 the body, saw and heard, <S,e., 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, #e.] Ver. 363. Sen&u 
 tnim trahit, atque acies detrudit 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." Wakefield. 
 
 On these points, you can by no means assume as true, Ac.] Ver. 
 171. Democritus taught that the atoms of the soul, and those of
 
 B. 1 ii. 372 397. LUCRETIUS. 115 
 
 which the divine opinion of the philosopher Democritus lays 
 down ; namely, that the several atoms of the body and mind, 
 applied and corresponding each to each, vary and connect the 
 members. 1 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 ; SG 
 that you may safely warrant that the primary particles of the 
 soul occupy, and are distributed at those intervals only, at 
 which corporeal atoms cast upon us, and striking against ui t 
 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 the flying 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, 3 
 
 the body, were equal in number, and were united, atom to atom, 
 throughout the whole human frame. But this cannot be true, says 
 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. 
 
 1 Connect the members.] Ver. 374. Nectere membra. " So unite 
 them, that they may have motions in common, and conspire one 
 with another." Wakefield. 
 
 2 Corporeal atoms, cast upon us, S;c.'] Ver. 379. Prima corpora 
 nobis injccta. " Atoms so casting themselves upon us, and striking 
 against us, as to produce sensible motions in the body, by arousing 
 the power of the mind to its duty." Wakefield. 
 
 * And the mind is more efficient in holding the bars of life, $e."] 
 i 2
 
 I 16 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 398421. 
 
 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, continues 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 bt 
 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 continues in life. So when the eye is la- 
 cerated round about, if the pupil has remained uninjured, the 
 vivid faculty of seeing survives ; but 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 be 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, 2 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 (animus) 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, <S,c.] Ver. i!8. 
 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 
 
 carmina 
 willed
 
 8. in. 422436. LUCRETIUS. 1 1 7 
 
 sweet labour. And thou, my 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 
 mind ; inasmuch as they are one by mutual combination, and 
 their substance is united. 
 
 In the first place, since I have shown l 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 ; 2 as when, lulled in sleep, we 
 see high altars exhale with vapour, and carry up smoke ; 
 since doubtless these phantasms are produced in us;J 3 now, 
 therefore, 1 say, since, when vessels are broken to pieces, 
 you see water flow about, and any other liquid run away ; 
 
 at all times to excel, being graced with every gift." Wakefield. See i 
 27, 28. 
 
 1 In the first place, since I have shown, <S,e.] Ver. 425. This is 
 his first argument. Since the soul is more subtle than vapour or 
 smoke, it must surely be sooner dissipated than those light sub- 
 stances, when it is once set free from the body that confines it. 
 
 2 Inasmuch as both the mind and soul are moved by the mere 
 images of smoke and mist.] Ver. 431. Quippe ubi imaginibus fumi 
 nebulceque moventur. " Quippe ubi," says Lambinus, " is quippe quia, 
 or quippe cum," Moventur, 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 Turnebus, (Advers. 
 xx. 26,) Lucretius means that " the atoms of the mind are finer 
 than those of smoke and mist, since they are moved even by the 
 images and simulacra 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." 
 
 3 Since doubtless these phantasms are produced in us.] Ver. 434. 
 Nam procul hcec dubio nobis simulacra getiuntur. " Procul dubio ista- 
 rum rerum phantasmata per simulachra in nobis excitantur." 
 Creech. Lucretius, with his master, Epicurus, thought that the 
 images thrown off from objects (as shown in book iv.) flying about 
 in the air, and coming in contact with -our bodies, 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." Incohibessit, at the end of the 
 paragraph, (ver. 445,) I have rendered as the present.
 
 118 LUCRETIUS. B. m. 437 64. 
 
 and since, also, 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 
 easily resolved into its original elements, when it has once been 
 withdrawn from the body of a man, and has taken its depar- 
 ture. For how can you believe that this soul can be held 
 together by any combination of air, when the body itself (which 
 is, as it were, its vessel) cannot contain it, if it be convulsed 
 by any violence, or rendered thin and weak 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 1 together 
 with the body, and grows up along with it, and waxes old at 
 the same time with 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 grown up in robust vigour, their 
 understanding is also greater, and their strength of mind 
 more enlarged. Afterwards, when the body is shaken by the 
 prevailing power of time, and, the strength being depressed, 
 the limbs have sunk into infirmity, the understanding then 
 halts, the tongue and the mind lose their sense, all parts fail 
 and fade away at once. It is therefore natural that the whole 
 substance of the soul should be 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 tcith it, and both, 
 as I have shown, overcome by age, decay in concert. 
 
 To this is added, 2 that as we observe the body itself to- 
 be-subject-to violent diseases and severe pain, so ive 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, Src.] Ver. 446. 
 The second argument. Since the mind appears tendf r 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, <Src.~| 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 with it?
 
 B. in 465490. LUCRETIUS. 1 19 
 
 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 ; l hence it neither hears the voice, nor can distinguish 
 the countenances, of those who stand around recalling it to 
 life, bedewing their faces and cheeks with tears. 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 truth which 
 we have been taught by the destruction of many millions in 
 past times. 
 
 Further, when the violent power of wine 2 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, 3 
 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- 
 its-customary-power to disturb the soul as it is diffused 
 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, 4 a 
 person suddenly falls down before our eyes, as if struck by 
 the blow of a thunder-bolt, and foams at the mouth, groans, 
 and trembles in his joints, loses his senses, stretches his nerves 
 to rigidity, is distorted, pants with irregular breathing, and 
 
 1 The eyes and the nodding-head sinking.] Ver. 467. Oailis nu- 
 tuque cadenti. " By nutus cadens nothing more seems to be signified 
 than the dejection or sinking down of the head." Lambinus. 
 
 2 Further, when the violent power of wine, t$c.~] 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? 
 
 3 Hiccups.] Ver. 479. Singuttus, juryia gliscunt. " Hiccough, 
 noise, and strife." Good. 
 
 4 Moreover, frequently, overcome by the force of disease, $e.] 
 Ver. 486. The fifth argument. Since the soul, in a case of morbu* 
 eomittalis, or falling sickness, is torn and distracted, why may it 
 not, at death, be altogether dissolved and dispersed t
 
 120 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 491-515 
 
 wearies his 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 are 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 to pass, and where 
 the course of the road is paved for them. 1 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 hns given way, and the violent humour 
 of the disordered body has retired into its hiding-place, then, 
 as if staggering, the person first rises, and, by degrees, returns 
 to all his senses, and re-possesses the right state of his soul. 
 
 When these substances, therefore, the mind 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, 2 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 3 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 
 
 1 The course of the road is paved for them.~] Ver. 497. Sunt 
 munita viai. The expression seemed so strange to Latnbinus, that 
 he wished to cancel the whole verse, but, as it seems, without rea- 
 son. We say of a man who drinks very hot liquids, that his throat 
 must be paved. 
 
 2 And since we see that the mind may be healed, *rc.] Ver. 509. 
 The sixth argument. Since the mind, when affected by sickness, is 
 restored, like the body in the same case, by medicine, must we not 
 suppose that the mind is mortal like the body ? 
 
 3 To alter any other nature or substance.~\ Ver. 515. Aliam qiiam- 
 rf naturam fiectere. The Delphin editor rightly interprets naturam, 
 " rem," or substance ; a signification which it often has, as well in 
 Lucretius as in Cicero and other philosophical writers. Fkctere, to 
 alter by restoring and improving.
 
 B. in. 516 534. 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 l 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 2 reasoning, and to cut off escape from him who 
 shrinks from its conclusions, and to overthrow what is wrong 
 by a double refutation. 
 
 Furthermore, we often see a man decay by degrees, 3 and 
 lose his vital power in one limb after another. On the feet 
 we observe the toes and nails first grow livid ; then the feet 
 themselves and the legs mortify ; afterwards, throughout the 
 other limbs, we perceive the traces of cold death thence pro- 
 ceed step by step. 4 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 soul can itself contract itself 
 internally throughout the limbs, and condense its parts into 
 one place, and thus withdraw feeling from all the members 
 
 1 For whatever, being changed, goes beyond, $<?] See i. 378, 875 ; 
 ii. 761. 
 
 2 So far is the force of true reason seen to oppose false, S$c.] Ver. 522. 
 
 Usque adeo falsae rationis vera videtur 
 Res occurrere, et effugium praecludere eunti, 
 Ancipitique refutatu convincere falsum. 
 
 The construction, according to Wakefield, is Vera res rationis videtur 
 occurrere falsce (rei rationis). Lambinus's reading, rationi, is much 
 more simple : i. e. res vera, fact, experience, is seen to oppose falsee 
 rationi, false reasoning. Eunti, i. e. effugienti, him that attempts to 
 escape. Ancipiti refutatu, viz. both by falling sick and growing well. 
 1 Furthermore, we often see a man decay by degrees, $<?.] Ver. 
 525. The seventh argument. Since the body often dies by degrees, 
 limb by limb, must we not 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 sunk in death, car, be des- 
 tined to live for ever in full vigour? 
 
 4 Afterwards thence proceed step by step.] Ver. 528. Pott 
 
 inde per artus Ire alias tractim . Post, says Wakefield, refers to the 
 lapse of time, inde to the spread of the disease. Tractim is sese tm~ 
 hendo, dragging itself along slowly. And does not continue, c.J 
 Kec uno Tempore sincera existit. " Nee eodem tempore tota sincera, 
 Integra, et incorrupta invenitur." Creech.
 
 122 LUCRETIUS. * "' 53.5-55& 
 
 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 feel- 
 ing is no where 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 thus concentrated in the 
 bodies of those who leave light and life by dying part after 
 part, you must still confess 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, 1 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 2 of a man, and remains 
 fixed in a certain place, as the ears and eyes are, and the other 
 organs of sense, 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 3 are 
 vigorous, and enjoy life, only when joined with one another ; 
 
 1 Drawn together from being dispersed in its several parts.] Ver. 
 544. Contracta suis & partibus. Loses its sense, obbrutescat. Festus 
 cites from Afranius, non possum verbum facere; obrutui; for obb>~utui, 
 I have grown dull and stupid. 
 
 * And as the mind is one single part, -c.] Ver. 547. The eighth 
 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? 
 
 3 Further, the animated powers of the body and mind, $c.] Ver. 
 657. 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 par^ 
 graph I have altered potestas into "powers."
 
 B. iii. 659579. LUCRETIUS. 123 
 
 for neither can the nature or substance of the mind, without 
 tLe body, alone, and of itself, produce vital motions ; nor 
 again, can the body, deprived of the soul, continue its state of 
 txistence, and use its faculties. Just, for example, 1 as the 
 eye 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, 2 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 3 of the 
 
 1 Just, for example, $c.] Ver. 562. Scilicet. Ver. 564. " Mind 
 or so\il seems:" anima atque animus videtur. Ver. 565. "when 
 mingled:" mixtim. 
 
 2 For surely the air forms body and soul, $e.] Ver. 572. 
 Corpus atque animam serit aer, si cohibere sese anima, atque in eos 
 poterit concludere motus, &c. The serit is Wakefield's; Lambinus 
 and his followers have corpus enim 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, &c." 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 acre se continere possit (anima) atque ab acre cohiberi: 
 nib.il simpliciuset luculentius." Forbiger of course dutifully followed. 
 But Lachmann has very wisely reinstated the reading of Lambinus. 
 
 * Besides, when the body cannot bear the dissociation. 6<c.\ Ver. 
 67$ The tenth argument. Since, on the separation of the soul and
 
 124 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 580603 
 
 goul, 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 l 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 2 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 
 all the relaxed members to fail the languid frame. Such is 
 the case, when it is said that the mind has been damaged, 3 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 hoar of death, the 
 soul driven forth at length, weak and helpless, out of the body, 
 
 body, the body falls to pieces, why should we conceive that the 
 BOU! remains entire? 
 
 1 Foundations, <:.] 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- 
 
 E rived of its powers even while it yet remains in the body ; and 
 ow is it then to sustain itself when it is deprived of the covering 
 and protection of the body? 
 
 * That the mind has been damaged, #e.] Ver. 596. 
 
 Quod genus est, animo male factum quum perhibetur, 
 Aut animam liquisse; ubi jam trepidatur, et omnes 
 Extremum cupiunt vitae reprehendere vinclum. 
 The expression animo matt, factum, " the mind has been damaged," 
 says \\ akefield. was the vulgar phraseology ; the phrase animatu 
 tup***, \inroWwaai, " suiFered-syncope," the mode in which th* 
 better instructed spoke.
 
 B in. 604625. 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 l 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 to pass forth 
 abroad, and to leave its covering, as a snake delights to cast its 
 skin, or an old stag its too long antlers. 
 
 Again, why are the understanding and faculty 2 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 born 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, 
 BO 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, 3 when separated from our body, 
 
 1 Nor does any one, when dying, appear to feel, <Src.] Ver. 606. 
 The twelfth argument. Who, at death, feels his soul going out en- 
 tire from him ? Does it not seem to lose its vitality, throughout the 
 body, equally with the various organs of the body ? 
 
 * Again, why are the understanding and faculty, $0."] 615. 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 born and with 
 
 which it dies ? The whole of the various members.] Ver. 620. 
 
 Multimodis pro totis artubus; " multimodis " being an adjective 
 
 3 Besides, if sentient existence, $e.] Ver. 624. The four- 
 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 sens* 
 in the body. 1 have added a few words at the end of the para- 
 graph. Lachmann improves the whole of it by reading, in ver. 632, 
 mnima for animd, according to a conjecture of Pius.
 
 126 LUCRETIUS. E. m. 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 banks 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 from the soul. How then can 
 souh be possessed of the five senses, when all the organs oj 
 those senses have perished ? 
 
 And since we see that the vital sense spreads through the 
 whole body, 1 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 the 
 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 dying foot, 
 close by him, moves its toes on the ground. And the head of 
 
 1 And since vital sense through the whole body.] Ver. 634. 
 
 The fifteenth 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 when 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 anin al has many souls.
 
 B. in. 655-679. LUCRETIUS. 127 
 
 a fourth, severed from the warm and 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. 
 
 Moreover, if, when the tongue of a serpent vibrates against 
 you, and his tail and long body threaten you, 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 will observe the fore part, turning backward, 
 seeking itself, that is, the hinder 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 botli 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 l 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 itself. For which reason you 
 must of necessity acknowledge, that whatever soul previously 
 existed 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, 2 the vital 
 
 1 Besides, if the nature of the soul infused into men, <S,c.] 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 and Plato,) why has 
 no one (Pythagoras 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. 
 
 8 Again, if after the body is completely formed, &c.~\ Ver. 679. 
 The seventeenth argument. Were the soul lodged in the bodjr after the 
 body is formed, it might be expected to live as an animal in a casre,
 
 128 LUCRETIUS. B. m. 680- 70* 
 
 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, 
 as 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 m a cage, by 
 iUelf and for itself; though in stick a manner, that the whole 
 body, by its influence, should abound with sense and vitality. 
 For which reason, / say again and again, we must neither 
 think that souls are without beginning, nor that they are exempt 
 from the law of death. For neither must we deem that souls, 
 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 with the body throughout the veins, viscera, 
 nerves, and bones, that even the very teeth have a share of 
 feeling ; as their aching proves, and the acute-pain from cold 
 water, and the cranching of a hard pebble l 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, 2 is wont to expand itself through our limbs, yet to 
 admiWhis, 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 throughout the body, is 
 dissolved with it, and therefore perishes. Being distributed, 
 then, through all the passages of the body, as food, when it 
 
 not diffused, as it is throughout the whole substance of the body, 
 with which it seems to be born only that it may die with it. 
 
 1 The cranching of a hard pebble, $c.] Ver. 694. Et lapis oppres- 
 M subitis e frugibus asper. Literally, and a rough stone pressed-on from 
 mdden. corn, or bread. The feeling in the teeth, be says, shows that 
 the soul pervades the teeth. 
 
 1 But if still, perchance, you think that a soul, infused from with- 
 out, <Sfc.J 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, from the influence of different kinds of food, and 
 other causes? And must not a being thus subject to change will 
 the body, be liable to destruction together with it ?
 
 B. in. 7<H 722. LUCRETIUS. 129 
 
 is distributed through all the members and limbs, is dissolved, 
 and takes of itself another nature, 1 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 through 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, like 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 2 in a dead 
 body, or not ? For if any remain and exist in the body, it will 
 not be possible for the soul 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 
 
 1 Is dissolved, and takes of itself another nature.] Ver. 704. 
 Disperit, atque aliam naturam sufficit 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. 
 
 Stifficit, that ia, (say Lambinus and Faber,) " suppeditat, subminis- 
 trat." The food, by being dissolved, supplies, furnishes, 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.] 
 Dissoluiintur. He means that, while the soul would be expanded 
 throughout the body, its original consistence would be much altered, 
 many of its particles being detached from others by intervening 
 particles of the body. 
 
 * Again, whether do any atoms of the soul remain, $<?] Ver. 713. 
 The nineteenth argument. When a man is dead, does any portion of the 
 oul remain in the dead body? If none remains, how are worm* 
 animated ? If any remains, how can the soul be pronounced indie* 
 ftoluble and imperishable 1 
 
 K
 
 180 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 723-743. 
 
 may be insinuated into those worms from without, and if you 
 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 especially worthy to be sought 
 into and brought under examination. It is proper not only 
 to reflect, I say, whether souls hunt for particular atoms of 
 worms, and build for thimselves 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 l 
 why they should make bodies, or why they should labour at 
 all; for, while they are without a body, they fly about undis- 
 turbed by diseases, and cold, and hunger ; since it is the body 
 that 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 under that supposition can they be exactly fitted 
 together ; nor will their mutual-motions be carried on with 
 sympathy. 
 
 Furthermore, why does violent rage 2 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 
 
 1 Reason to be given, Sgc.'] Ver. 731. Dicere suppeditat. In 
 ver. 733, finis is used for mors, as is frequently the case in Tacitus. 
 
 2 Furthermore, why does violent rage, $c.J Ver. 741. The twen- 
 tieth argument, directed against the Pythagoreans. If souls, as the 
 followers of Pythagoras declare, remain immortal, and pass from 
 body to body, how 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 stag, has never produced a lion-like stag, or that a human 
 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, passing into a child, has never produced a mature- 
 minded child? What reason can be given 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 de-ays?
 
 B. in. 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 grows up together with each body 
 from its own seed and stock ? But if the soul were immortal, 
 and were accustomed, as the Pythagoreans 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 horned 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, ia 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 wise 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, 1 
 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, 2 strengthened in 
 
 1 Take refuge in the assertion.] Ver. 769. " Confugient eo 
 scilicet, ut dicant mentem tencrascere in corpore tenero. " Lambi- 
 nus. But if the soul is thus changed, it must be mortal, for what- 
 ever is immortal is unchangeable. 
 
 1 Or in what way will the vigour of a soul, #c.] Ver. 770. Having 
 hitherto fought with his heavy battalions, says Creech, he now 
 brings forward his light troops, and adds six arguments of u less 
 forcible character. I shall entitle these, additional observations. The 
 
 K 2
 
 132 LUCRETIUS. B. i 
 
 concert with each particular body, 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 old ? Does it fear to remain 
 Imprisoned in a decaying-carcass, lest it should decay with it? 
 Or is it afraid lest its tenement, shaken with a long course of 
 life, should 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, 2 nor clouds in 
 the deep sea ; nor can fish live in the fields ; nor blood be 
 m 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. 3 But since 
 it seems fixed and appointed also in our own body, where the 
 
 first is, that if the soul were independent of the body, and not born 
 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. 
 
 1 Moreover, to imagine that souls stand ready, $c. ~\ Ver. 777. 
 The second additional observation. That it is ridiculous to suppose that 
 immortal beings should contend for mortal bodies. 
 . * Again, neither can a tree exist in the sky, %c.~\ Ver. 785. The 
 Jh'rrf additional observation. That, as every animal and vegetable 
 production grows and dies in its proper place, so it is to be consider- 
 ed that tbe soul of a man grows and dies in and with his body. 
 
 1 In the same receptacle.] Ver. 794. In eodem vase. He seemi 
 to refer to what he said above, ver. 141, as to the mind being situ- 
 ated in media regions pectoris.
 
 1. m. 796-829. jbUCRETIUS. 133 
 
 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 which 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, 1 and to suppose 
 that they can sympathize together, and perform mutual opera- 
 Horn, 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, 2 must either, as 
 being of a solid consistence, repel blows, and suffer nothing to 
 penetrate them, that can disunite their compact parts within ; 
 (such as are the primary-particles of matter, the nature of 
 which we have shown above ;) 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 
 space'round about, into which their constituent 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 things, 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 death, therefore, is 
 not shut against the mind and soul. 
 
 1 Besides, to join the mortal to the immortal, <$rc.] Ver. 801. 
 The fourth additional observation. That_the immortal cannot well con- 
 sort with the mortal. 
 
 * Further, whatsoever bodies remain eternal. $e.] Ver. 807. The 
 fifth additional observation. That for certain other reasons, (fully set 
 forth in the text,) the soul cannot be imperishable.
 
 1 34 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 830863. 
 
 But if perchance the soul, in the opinion of any, is to be 
 Accounted immortal the more on this account, 3 that it is kept 
 fortified by things preservative of life; or because objects 
 adverse to its safety 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 thus 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 with 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 of 
 body and soul together. Nor, if time should collect our ma- 
 terial-atoms after death, and restore them 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, re.] Ver. 830. 
 
 tie sixth additional observation. That if any think the mind una9 
 e by trouble and disease, which cause weakness and decay 
 experience refutes them.
 
 . in 864874. LUCRETIUS. 135 
 
 it is now of no importance to us, in regard to ourselves, what 
 we were before ; l 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 present. 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 
 ^rder 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 2 have wandered 
 hither and thither, far-away from sentient-movements. For 
 he, among men now living, to whom misery and pain 3 are to 
 
 1 It is of no importance to us, what we were before.] Ver. 864. 
 
 Et mine nil ad nos de nobis attinet ante 
 
 Quei 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 suffered then, since death has intervened and inter- 
 rupted all consciousness and memory. Interrupta semel quum sit repe- 
 tentia nostris, sc. rebus (ver. 863) ; as Wakefield and Forbiger have 
 it; Lambinus and his followers read nostra; Lachmann gives reti- 
 nentia nostri. 
 
 2 All the motions of our atoms, S^c.'] Ver. 872, 873. 
 
 Inter enim jecta est vita'i pausa, vagbque 
 De 'rrarunt passim motus ab sensibus omnes. 
 
 " Morte enim vita fuit interrupta, motusque omnes, quibus jactata 
 erant semina, erant a sensiferis motibus plane diversi." Creech. 
 Because a pause of life, a gaping space, 
 Has come betwixt, where memory lies dead, 
 And all the wandering motions from the sense are fled. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 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 given by Wakefield and copied 
 by Forbiger, is one of the most unsatisfactory in Lucretius. In 
 Lambinus 's edition, and all others before Wakefield, the passage 
 stood thus : 
 
 Debet enim, misere quoi forte segreque futurum est, 
 Ipse quoque esse in eo turn tempore, quoin male possit 
 Accidere : At quoniam mors eximit im [for 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 LUCRETIUS. . B. in. 875878. 
 
 happen after hit death, must himself exist again, in his man 
 identity, at that very time on which the evil which he is to 
 suffer may have power to fall ; but since death, which inter- 
 rupts all consciousness, and prevents all memory of the past, 
 precludes the possibility of this ; and since the circumstance of 
 having previously existed, prohibits him who lived before, and 
 with whom these calamities which we suffer might be asso- 
 
 but Wakefield, referring to his MSS., pronounced the passage to be 
 infected with mala scabies, of which learned men should have been 
 ashamed, and re-modelled the whole thus : 
 
 Debet enim misere est quoi forte aegreque futurum, ^ 
 Ipse quoque esse in eo turn tempore, quoi male possit 
 Adcidere : id quoniam mors eximit, esseque pronibet 
 Ilium, quoi possint incommoda conciliari 
 Haec eadem, quibus e nunc nos sumus, ante fuisse ; 
 Scire licet, &c. 
 
 Giving the following as the order and sense : " Quoniam mors ex- 
 imit id, et (ri) fuisse ante prohibet ilium, cui haec incommoda pos- 
 sint conciliari, esse eadem (semina), fe quibus nos nunc snmus 
 (compositi)." According to this interpretation, there ought to be a 
 comma after Hcec, but there is not, either in any edition of Wake- 
 field, or in those of Eichstadt and Forbiger, who both copied him. 
 As I have followed Wakefield's text, I have also followed, as the 
 reader will see, his interpretation ; but surely to make ante fuisse 
 the nominative case to prohibet, to refer haec to incommoda, and to 
 couple eadem with the remote esse, can be satisfactory to few. Lach- 
 mann, the last editor, makes a transposition of a verse, which I 
 cannot exhibit to the reader without transcribing a few previous 
 lines : 
 
 Facile hoc adcredere possis, 
 
 Semina saepe in eodem, ut nunc sunt, ordine posta 
 Ha?c eadem, quibus e nunc nos sumus, ante fuisse : 
 Nee memori tamen id quimus repraehendere mente : 
 Inter enim jectast vitai' pausa, vageque 
 Deerrarunt passim motus a sensibus omnes. 
 Debet enim, misere si forte aegreque futurumst, 
 Ipse quoque esse in eo turn tempore, cui male possit 
 Accidere : id quoniam mors eximit, esseque probet (for prohibet) 
 Ilium cui possit incommoda conciliari, 
 Scire licet nobis, %c. 
 
 This may be partly right, but, if I may venture to express an 
 opinion, I should say that no alteration will restore the passage to 
 its genuine state, unless it be such as shall, by whatever method, 
 join conciliari with semina ; for concilia, conciliatus, and conciliitm. are 
 W u ^ ich Lucretius delights to apply to his atoms; and the 
 hrase incommoda conciliari " could hardly be regarded, in any 
 but a comic author, (male conciliati occurs in Plaut. Pseud, i. 2, 1.) 
 otherwise than with suspicion.
 
 . in. 879-905. LUCRETIUS. 137 
 
 elated, from existing a second time, (with any 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 born 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 wild beasts, you may know that his mind is 
 not in a healthy state, and that some secret disquietude as to 
 /lit 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 ; l 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 will 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 evil 
 at death, to be t7/-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 burn in hot flames, 
 or, placed in honey, to be suffocated, 2 or to grow stiff with 
 cold, when he is lying on the highest flat of a gelid rock, or 
 
 1 From conviction, from which he pretends to speak."] Ver. 889. Non 
 dat quod promittit et unde. " Unde promiserat se daturum." Wake- 
 Held. He does not speak from sincere belief, as he professes to speak. 
 A little below, " foolish as he is : ' answers to inscius, which Creech, 
 I think rightly, interprets stultus. 
 
 * Placed in honey, to be suffocated.] Ver. 901. In meUe sitwn 
 ruffocari. A mode of burial among the ancients. Xenophon (Hel-
 
 /38 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 906937. 
 
 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." l 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 pyre ; and no lapse of time shall remove our 
 unfading sorrow from our hearts." Of him, however, u-ho 
 makes such lamentations, we may ask this question, "If the 
 matter of death is reduced to sleep and rest, what can there be 
 BO 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 burn up the wretches, or an insatiable longing for some 
 other thing should settle on them. Yet how different will 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, 2 and the man who is suddenly- 
 
 len. r. 3, 19) mentions that Agesipolis, one of the Spartan kings, 
 was buried in this way. 
 
 Remain with you.] Yer. 915. Insidet unii. 
 
 Withdraw tc no great distance from sensible motions.] Ver, 937.
 
 Mil 938970. LUCRETIUS. 139 
 
 Jbused from sleep quickly recollects himself. Death, then, we 
 must consider to be of far less concern to us, if less can be than 
 that which we see to be 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 you, O mortal, thus excessively to in- 
 dulge in bitter grief? Why do you groan and weep, at the 
 thought of death ? For 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, 2 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 all 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 agaimt 
 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- 
 
 Haudquaqiiam longt ab sensiferis motibus errant. Compare ver. 
 
 873. Deerrurunt passim motw ab sensibus omnes. 
 
 1 If UNIVERSAL NATURE should suddenly utter, ^c.~] Ver. 944. 
 " So Cicero, in his 1st Oration against Catiline, introduces his Coun- 
 try speaking; and Plato the Laws in his Apology." Lambinus. 
 
 * Incur further trouble.] Ver. 954. Amplius addere mali. Othen 
 read mad, which, taken with pereat, makes better sense.
 
 140 LUCRETIUS. B. HI. 971998, 
 
 vantages, life has passed from thee imperfect and unsatisfactory, 
 and death has stood by thy head unawares, and before tnou 
 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; 1 for it is necessary." And 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 gulf of Erebus, 
 or black Tartarus, but allowed to retire peaceably to a dream- 
 less sleep. The matter, of which thou art made, 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 thus 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 born. 
 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 2 in his huge breast, would 
 
 1 Yield at once, with submissive feelings, to that which is stronger 
 than thou.~\ Ver. 975. JEquo animoqite, agedum, magnis concede. Wake- 
 field considers that magnis means persons; Orellius (in his Ecloga 
 Poet. Latinorum) thinks that it is the neuter plural, but supposes the 
 meaning to be, depart from great things, i. e. pleasures or enjoy menta. 
 
 v?k l ^ at " ^ re necess ity's supreme command " is intended. 
 
 Nor, however they might search, $] Ver. 998. See quid sub
 
 . . in. 929-1031. 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 l 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 its 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, 2 pitch, hot iron, 
 fire-brands ; and though these may be absent, yet the mind, 
 
 magno scrutentur pectore. Observe that the quid is for qitantumcunque, 
 or utcunque. 
 
 1 Sets his heart.] Ver. 1010. ImbiUt. " Imbibit petere is induxit in 
 animiun petere. ' ' Lambinus. 
 
 * Stripes, executioners, the wooden-horse, $c.] _Ver. 1030. Ver- 
 bera, carnifices, robur, pix, lamina, tteda. By robur is meant the ma- 
 chine called equuleus, or little horse, on which slaves were placed to 
 be tortured. By teedce is signified either firebrands, or lighted 
 torches, applied to the person, or wood to which the sufferer WM 
 fixed, and to which Juvenal, i. 155, alludes.
 
 142 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 10321059. 
 
 conscious of evil deeds, feeling dread in anticipation, applies 
 to itself stings, and tortures itself with scourges, nor sees, in 
 the mean time, what end there can be of its sufferings, nor 
 what 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 fools 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! 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 foot through salt gulfs, 
 and despised the murmurs of the ocean, trampling on it with 
 his cavalry ; even he, I say, the light of life being withdrawn 
 from him, poured forth his soul from his 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 2 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, 3 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? Thou, who 
 
 1 Even the good Ancus has deserted the light with his eyes.] 
 
 Ver. 1038. Lumina sis oculis, $c. These words were taken by Lu- 
 cretius from Ennius, and are given by Festus under sos. 
 
 1 Mindful motions.] Ver. 1053. Memores motits. 
 
 * Having run through his light of life.] Ver. 1055. Deourso fa- 
 mine vita. " A metaphor from the sun," says Wakefield, " who 
 nrns his daily course of light."
 
 a.m. 1060 1094. LUCRETIUS. 143 
 
 wastest the greater part of existence in sleep, and snorest 
 waking, nor ceasest to see dreams, and bearest a mind dis- 
 turbed with empty terror ; nor canst thou, frequently, dis- 
 cover what evil affects 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 from 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 inquiring./br something new; and 
 changing their place, as if by 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 the city. 
 
 In this way each man flees from himself; but himself, as it 
 always happens, whom he cannot escape, and whom he still 
 hates, adheres to him in spite of his 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 ; since 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 
 game occupations ; nor, by the prolongation of life, is any 
 new pleasure discovered. Yet that which we desire, geema,
 
 144 LUCRETIUS. B. in. 10951107, 
 
 while it is distant in the future, to excel all other objects ; 
 but 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 reign, or cause 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, 2 who ter- 
 minated his life under this day's sun, than he who died many 
 months and years ago. 
 
 1 We cannot diminish aught.] Ver. 1101. Nee delibrare valemus. 
 " Delibrare " is, to strip bark from a tree. 
 
 2 Nor will he be less long out of being, $0.] Ver. 1105. Nee minus 
 
 tile diu jam rum erit, et Me. It is requisite to translate et (like <* 
 
 or atqite) by than.
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 After an exordium, (ver, 1 25,) in which Lucretius speaks of his subject, and 
 his mode of recommending it, he proceeds to treat of the images of Epi- 
 curus, by which the senses are excited, ver. 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, ver. 46 108. Besides these images de- 
 tached from bodies, there are others spontaneously generated in the air, 
 ver. 109216. He demonstrates that vision is produced by the impact of 
 images on the eyes, ver. 217 239. He then solves various questions re- 
 lating to images in mirrors, and to light and shade, ver. 240 379. He 
 shows 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 subject more fully, 
 refuting the Academics, ver. 470 523. Proceeding to the other senses, 
 he asserts that voice and sounds are of a corporeal substance, and dis- 
 courses on the nature and formation of the voice, ver. 524 565. Speaks of 
 the diffusion, reverberation, and penetration of sounds, ver. 566 617. 
 Treats of taste and odour, and their diversities, ver. 618 724. Shows 
 that imagination and thought are produced by means of images, which 
 penetrate the body through 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 designed for 
 use, but that it was found out, after they were formed, that they could be 
 used, ver. 824 878. That motion in animals arose from the motions ol 
 images, ver. 879 908. He then speaks more fully of sleep and dreams, 
 af vhich he suggests various causes, ver. 908 1035. Of love, desire, and 
 their influence, ver. 10361283.
 
 146 LUCRETIUS. B.IT. 1-26 
 
 I KANGE over the trackless regions l of the Muses, trodden 
 before by the foot of no poet. 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, * 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 2 of what nature the primor- 
 
 1 I range over the trackless regions, Ac.] Ver. 1. Avia Pieridum 
 peragro loca, &c. The first twenty-five verses of this book are taken 
 from book i. 925. At the end of the paragraph, ver. 25, T have given 
 " utility of that knowkdge, " with Creech, who has " istiusque cogni- 
 tionis utilitatem." 
 
 * But since I have demonstrated, Ac.] Ver. 2(3. Having in the 
 preceding books discoursed of atoms, the generation of things from 
 them, and the nature of the soul, he now proceeds to treat of rerum 
 rimidacra, 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 
 were broken, or inverted, or mixed one with another, we then saw 
 mcusters, such as Centaurs or Chimaeras. See ver. 736, seg. of this
 
 B. i\ 2750. LUCRETIUS. 147 
 
 dial-atoms of all things are, and with how different figures 
 distinguished they fly spontaneously 1 through space, actuated 
 by motion from all 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 it, 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, but 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 oj 
 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 each image bears the likeness 
 and form of that object, whatsoever it be, from whose surface 
 it is detached and seems to wander 2 through the air. 
 
 book. As to the spectres of the dead, Epicurus and Lucretius 
 supposed them to be pellicles thrown off from corpses, which were 
 so thin 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 Phar^alia. 
 Dreams were produced, they thought, by means of these subtle 
 images penetrating to the body 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. Aul. 
 Gell. v. 16. In ver. 30 32, I have rendered esset, vigeret, rediret, as 
 present tenses. Lucretius had given notice that he should enter on 
 this subject, in book i. 133. 
 
 1 Fly spontaneously, <Sre.] Ver. 28. See iii. 33. 
 
 * Seems to wander.] Ver. 50. Cluet vagari. Fertur Jicitur. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 LUCRETIUS. 3. iv. 5177 
 
 '1'hisfact any one, with however dull an intellect, may un- 
 derstand from what follows. In the first place, since many 
 bodies, among objects manifest before our eyes, send off, when 
 disunited, various particles/rowz their substance, partly diffused 
 and subtle, as wood discharges smoke and fire heat, and partly 
 more close and condensed, as whenever grasshoppers in sum- 
 mer lay aside their thin coats, and when calves, at their birth, 
 cast the membrane J from the surface of their bodies, and, like- 
 wise, when the slippery snake puts off his garment among the 
 thorns, (for we frequently see the briers gifted with their 
 spoils) : since these things, / say, take place, a thin image may 
 naturally be detached 2 from bodies ; that is to say, from the 
 extreme surface of bodies. For why those substances which 
 are more dense, should more readily fall away and recede from 
 bodies, than these shapes which are light and subtle, it is 
 quite impossible to tell ; especially when there are number- 
 less minute particles 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 this so much the more easily, as, 
 being comparatively few, and placed on the outmost super- 
 ficies, they are less liable to be obstructed. 
 
 For, assuredly, we not only see many particles discharge 
 themselves, and become detached, as we said before, from the 
 middle and inward parts of bodies, 3 but we observe also colour 
 itself frequently fly off from their surfaces ; and this effect 
 yellow, red, and purple curtains 4 publicly exhibit, when, 
 stretched across the vast theatres, displayed over the poles and 
 beams, they fluctuate with a tremulous motion ; for they then 
 tinge the assembly on the benches, and the whole face of the 
 scene beneath, the persons of senators, matrons, and gods, and 
 
 1 Calves, at their birth, cast the membrane, 4rc.] Ver. 57. " The 
 alantois, formed for the purpose of containing the urine of the foetus 
 prior to its birth." Good. 
 
 1 May naturally be detached.] Ver. 61. Debet mitti. Comp. v. 83. 
 
 * From the middle and inward parts of bodies,'] Ver. 71. Ex alto 
 penitusque. Literally, from the depth and (from) within. 
 
 4 Yellow, red, and purple curtains.] Ver. 73, seq. Lutea, russa, 
 et ferrugina. " Displayed over the poles and beams," Per malos vul- 
 gata trabesque. Malus here signifies a pole for supporting a curtain : 
 
 as m Liv. xxxix. 7, Ludis Romanis malus in circo instabilis in 
 
 e-.gnum Pollentise procidit. The Epicureans thought that the colour 
 actually passed off in thin pellicles from the curtains." May na- 
 turally send oif," (ver. 83,) debent mittere : see ver. 61.
 
 B. iv. 78106. 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 curtains, (the light 
 of day being affected with it,) smile and look gay. When the 
 curtains, therefore, send off colour from their surface, all other 
 objects may naturally send off subtle images ; for it is from 
 the superficies that both emit. There are therefore, we must 
 believe, certain outlines of figures, which, formed of a subtle 
 texture, fly abroad, and which nevertheless cannot, at the time 
 that they are separated from bodies, be individually discerned 
 by the eye. 
 
 Besides, ifaM odour, smoke, vapour, and other similar sub- 
 stances, fly off from bodies in a scattered manner, it is because, 
 while rising from within, they are, as they issue forth, broken 
 by winding passages ; nor are there any direct openings of 
 the orifices, by which they strive, as they spring up, to fly 
 out. 1 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 2 in forms thrown off 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 subtle, there is no possibility of tell- 
 ing. There are, therefore, we may believe, thin images of 
 the forms of bodies, and unlike those of a grosser nature, which, 
 though no one can see them severally thrown off, yet, being 
 thrown off, and repelled by successive and frequent reflec- 
 tions 3 from the flat surface of mirrors, strike the eye, and pro- 
 
 1 By which they strive to ny out.] Ver. 92. Qua contenduni 
 
 exire corn-toe. In Forbiger qua is misprinted for qua. 
 
 2 Their substance must necessarily consist.] Ver. 99. Esse eorum. 
 Esse is put substantively for ouaia, or essence. 
 
 * Repelled by successive and frequent reflections.] Ver. 105. 
 
 Assiduo crebroque repulsu 
 Rejectee, reddunt speculorum ex aequore visum. 
 
 "The r( presentation of himself, which a man sees in a glass, is .lot,
 
 150 LUCRETIUS. B. IT. 107-125. 
 
 dace 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 things 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. 1 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. 2 Of 
 what size can any internal part of these creatures 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 
 
 in the opinion of Epicurus, one, but many ; produced by a quick 
 succession of images passing off from the body, and striking against 
 the glass, whence they are reflected to the eye ; the rapidity of the 
 process making the many appear as one." Lambinus. This will be 
 seen more clearly as the reader proceeds. Epicurus's doctrine of 
 images is one of the weakest points in his philosophy. 
 
 1 Our eyes first begin to be unable to distinguish.] Ver. 112 
 Qua primum oculi ceeptant ncm posse tueri. He means the extreme 
 points, summa cacumina, of small objects, which our sight cannot 
 command. See i. 593. " Make plain to you," (ver. 113,) con- 
 forrnem; a word of Wakefield's selection, from two or three manu- 
 scripts, for confirmem, the reading of Lambinus. Wakefield inter- 
 prets it, to make manifest, as if by forms. 
 
 * That the third part of them can by no possibility be seen.] 
 > er. 116. Ut horum Tertia pars mdlA possit ratione rideri. "That 
 is, any considerable part, as in Rev. viii. 7, The third part o* th 
 trees, the sea, &c." Preigerus.
 
 to. IT. 126148. LUCRETIUS. 151 
 
 then the better understand that numerous images of bodies, 
 composed of still smaller atoms, may flit about in various ways, 
 without force or weight, and without impression on the senses. 1 
 [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 off from the objects 
 themselves, 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 ; 2 as, 
 frequently, the faces of giants seem to fly 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 some monster seems to drag forward, and to ob- 
 trude, 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 off; and 
 this redundancy, or outside form, when it comes in contact 
 with certain objects, as, for example, a thin garment, 3 passes 
 
 1 Without force and without impression on the senses.] Ver. 
 127. Nulla vi, cassaque sensu. " Which move with so small a force 
 that they cannot affect the organs or senses." Creech. Between 
 ver. 125 (ending with debts, which is Lambinus's conjecture for 
 dttobus) and ver. 126, Lachmann very reasonably considers that 
 there is a hiatus. The passage in crotchets is thought spurious by 
 Wakefield. 
 
 * Soothing the air with their motion.] Ver. 139. Aera mukentet 
 motu. " By the variety of their shapes exhilarating the air, as it were, 
 and diffusing over it a certain pleasantness." Wakefield. The reader 
 will remember the passage in Hamlet, " Very like a whale," &c. 
 
 3 As, for example, a thin garment.] Ver. 148. Ut in primis vetiem. 
 " As fiSri, dvTiica, jam, $ c . This is worthy of notice, for it means 
 exempli gratia." Faber. A little below (ver. 152) in primis oc- 
 curs again ; where, however, I have taken it, with Creech, in the 
 ense of pracipue.
 
 152 LUCRETIUS. u. IT. 149 ISO. 
 
 through it ; but, when it strikes against rough rocks, or the 
 substance of wood, is at once broken into fragments, so that 
 it can present no image. But when objects which are bright 
 and dense have stood in its way, 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 
 smooth surface has succeeded in securing its entireness. 1 From 
 this cause it happens that images abound among us; and, 
 however suddenly, at any time whatsoever, you may place a 
 mirror opposite an object, the image of it 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. 2 
 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 objects, 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 ; so 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 a-s 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 
 
 1 Has succeeded in securing its entireness.] Ver. 154. Meminit 
 kevor prcestare salittem. More literally, has remembered to secure its 
 safety. As to prcestare, comp. iii. 215, 221. 
 
 2 So that the production of these forms must naturally be thought 
 rapid.] Ver. 161. Ut merit!) celer his rebus dicatur origo. " May justly 
 be called rapid." This, like the lines on the activity of thought, (iii 
 183,) seems very tame.
 
 B, iv. 181-202. LUCRETIUS. 153 
 
 long distance, I will proceed to explain, though rather, if pos- 
 sible, 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 by 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 
 sun'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. 2 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 3 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 can easily penetrate any substances what- 
 soever, and, as it were, flow through the intervening-body 
 of air. 
 
 Besides, if those atoms of bodies which are sent forth from 
 within, 4 and from the central portion of them, as the light and 
 heat of the sun, are seen, gliding over the whole space of the 
 
 1 In agreeably-sounding verses than in many.] Ver. 181. Snavi* 
 dicis potius qitam multis. "Having regard to the nature of the sub- 
 ject," says Wakefield, "which has been so treated in prose as to 
 offend and weary the reader." The croak of cranes among the clouds 
 seems to have been a proverbial expression : see Lambinus, who 
 quotes a Greek epigram of Antipater Sidonius in Erinnam, containing 
 a similar observation on the chattering of daws. The lines occur 
 again, ver. 910, seq. 
 
 2 Successive brightness.] Ver. 191. Frotelo fulgure. " 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 telum, indicating a succession 
 like that of a number of darts thrown forward one after another. 
 
 3 Some slight impulse, $c.] Ver. 194. Parvola causa Est procul 6 
 tergo. Creech interprets causa by sttfficiens vis, but would have par- 
 vola in the ace. case, agreeing with simulacra understood. In this 
 notion I do not think him right. Faber would read plurima causa. 
 What cause or force impels images, or how it is produced, Lucre tiui 
 does not explain. 
 
 4 Forth from within.] Ver. 200. Penitus ex &>. Comp. ver. 71.
 
 1,34 LUCRETIUS. B. iv. 203-227. 
 
 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 not conceive how much 
 quicker and farther they ought to go, when they are once 
 thrown off, and when nothing delays 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 
 gun 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, 1 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 ; 2 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 
 
 1 From which cause, however wonderful, l$c.~] Ver. 217. 
 Qua re etiam atque etiam mir& fateare necesse est 
 Corpora, quae feriant oculos visumque lacessant, 
 Perpetuoque fluant certis ab rebus obortu 
 
 This is Wakefield's reading, which Forbiger retains. Lambinits and 
 Creech, instead of mird, have mitti; which verb, or one similar, is 
 sadly wanted. But Wakefield had the hardihood to t ay that it 
 might well be dispensed with, and that we may sayfateri corpora as 
 fateri peccata ! 
 
 * Voices cease to fly through the air.] Ver. 222. Nee varice cessant 
 voces volitare per 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.
 
 B. iv. 228255. LUCRETIUS. 153 
 
 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 us 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 direction, 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 from 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, 1 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 from us. 
 These effects, you may be sure, are produced with an ex- 
 
 1 The whole of that air thus glides through our eyes.J Ver. 249. 
 
 Isque ita per nostras acies, perlabitur omnis, 
 Et quasi pertergit pupillas, atque ita transit. 
 
 " Per oculos nostros perlabitur." Creech. " Permanat per nostras 
 pupillas oculorum." Ed. Delph. " Se faisant passage le long des 
 prunelles." Coutures. This is very well, but what shall we maice of 
 atque 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, who, folding a difficulty, proposed to read sub in- 
 stead of per. This notion about the stream of air making known th 
 distance, is repeated in vtr. 280, seq.
 
 136 LUCRETIUS. B. iv. 256-284. 
 
 quisitely rapid process, go that we see what the object is, and, 
 at the same time, how far it is distant. 
 
 In these matters it is by no means to be accounted wonderful, 
 why, when those images which strike the eyes cannot b3 
 severally discerned, the objects themselves, from which they 
 proceed, are perceived. For, in like 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 successive par- 
 ticle of that wind and cold, but rather the whole together ; 
 and we then perceive, as it were, blows inflicted 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 feel 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 o/*air, and all 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 
 
 1 But when we have looked on the mirror itself, $c.] Ver. 28 r. 
 
 Sedj ubi in speculum quoque sensimus ipsum, 
 
 Continue a nobis in eum, quae fertur, imago 
 Pervenit. 
 
 Thus stands the passage in Wakefield and Forbiger. Wakefield 
 rould join MMMMMK, and this is perhaps the best thing that can be 
 done. As for the eum in the next line, he makes it agree with aero.
 
 LUCRETIUS. 157 
 
 off from us, reaches it, and, being reflected, returns to our 
 eyes, and so, propelling another portion of air before it, rolls 
 it on, 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 
 these 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 J 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 out of its former 
 state, as would be the case with a mask of plaster, if, 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 left, 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 object 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 imago speculi, 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 in in the preceding verse. At the end of the para- 
 graph "by means of both" answers ioutraque, which Wakefield, from 
 Non. Marc. ii. 882, says is for utrinque or utroque; other editions 
 have utroque. It is well for us, as Wakefield observes, that we are 
 only the interpreters of Lucretius's language, and not the patrona 
 of his philosophy. 
 
 1 Now that which is in reality the right side, S$c.] Ver. 293. The 
 reader of this paragraph in Forbiger, will observe that lcev&, ver. 
 294, is for in Uevd ; other editions have in. Recta, ver. 296, is the 
 participle ofrego, Oculos, ver. 301, is for oculus.
 
 158 LUCRETIUS. B. iv. 307-324. 
 
 means of several glasses, through the winding passages,) b" 
 seen to be in the building. So exactly is an image reflected 
 from glass to glass ; and, when it has been presented to us 011- 
 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- 
 tion; 1 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, and place their foot with 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. 2 
 
 1 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 dextrce 
 paries 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 think that the columnar- 
 concave mirror was meant, so that de specula 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 bear 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 figura docet speculi 
 convortier ad nos : sc. imaginem. And Gassendi, De Physiologia Epicuri, 
 vol. ii. p. 260, thinks that concave mirrors wern meant. 
 
 2 According to the corresponding gestures oj the person whom they 
 represent.] Ver. 324. Ad tequos reddita flexus. Creech foolishly in- 
 terprets ad aquas flexus 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 1( per 
 1 egale opposition des surfaces."
 
 B. iv. 325354. LUCRETIUS. 159 
 
 Bright objects, also, the eyes avoid, and shrink from behold- 
 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. 1 Moreover, whatever splen- 
 dour is strong, often burns 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 2 look upon, be- 
 come in their sight yellow like themselves ; because many 
 atoms of yellow colour flow off from their bodies, meeting and 
 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 us, 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 cannot do, when we look from the light to- 
 wards objects in the dark, because the thicker air of darkness 
 follows behind the light air; which thicker 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. 3 
 
 And when we behold the square towers of a city a long 
 
 1 Their sockets.] Ver. 329. Composituras. " Tdf ap/ioyae." Lam- 
 binus. The settings of the eyes. 
 
 2 Besides, whatever objects jaundiced persons, $.] Ver. 334. 
 Qiuecunque tuentur Arquati. " The explanation is extremely apposite, 
 and, upon the Epicurean system of effluvia, highly ingenious." 
 Good. 
 
 3 Images cannot be moved forward into the eyes.] Ver. 353. 
 Ne simulacra Possint ullarum rerum contecta moveri. My translation 13 
 based upon Wakefield's interpretation.
 
 160 LUCRETIUS. B. IT. 
 
 way off, it happens, on account of the distance, that they often 
 seem round, because every angle, being afar off, is seen a* 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 force 
 to become-ineffective. 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 ; l 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 certain 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 light. 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 as quickly as wool vanishes, if applied to a flame. 2 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 we allow that the eyes are at all de- 
 ceived ; fj: 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 
 
 1 As if fashioned to around.] Ver. 362. Quasi ut ad tornum. Tornus 
 is generally considered to mean a turner's wheel, or lathe, or turning 
 iron, but seems here to signify the figure formed by such instru- 
 ment. Lambinus reads quasi tornata ut , and considers that ad tor- 
 m came into the text from a gloss. 
 
 * As wool vanishes, if applied to a flame.] Ver. 377. Quasi in ignem 
 lana trahatur. " Nothing could be imagined more applicable and ex- 
 pressive than this simile ; for what is consumed quicker than the fine 
 filaments of wool, when they are set on fire ? " Wakefield. Good re- 
 fers to Isaiah, xlii. 17, "They are consumed as tow; " and to Cow- 
 per s Task, ii. 9, " As *be flax That falls asunder at the touch of fire.'
 
 B. iv. 384419. LUCRETIUS. 161 
 
 here, passes thither, or rather, as we said before, a new one 
 is constantly 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 be the fault of the understanding. 
 
 A ship, in which we sail, is carried forward, when it seems 
 to stand still ; and that which remains stationary, is imagined 
 to go by us ; 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, as 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 
 hills, 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 five hundred casts of a dart ; yet between 
 them and the sun, which seems in contact with them, 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 l 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- 
 
 1 To a depth as great.] Ver. 417. Impete tanto. " Id est tanta at- 
 titudine." Lambinus.
 
 162 LUCRETIUS. B. iv. 420447. 
 
 neath, 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 look 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, 2 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 the helm 
 above the water is straight, the parts which go down, and are 
 sunk in the water, seem all, as if broken, to be turned and in- 
 verted, sloping upwards, and, thus 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. 3 
 
 1 Altogether deceived.] Ver. 436. Labefactari undique. 
 * But to those ignorant of the sea, &c.] Ver. 437. 
 At maris ignaris in portu clauda videntur 
 Navigia aplustris, fractas obnitier undas. 
 
 " Aplustria 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 aphtstris fractis, which makes better sense. 
 3 Really borne.] Ver. 147. Raiione fentntur. ' \\n$Z>g, bvru. Fabet
 
 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, tha 
 all things, at which we look, seem to become double as we 
 gaze on them ; two lights in the lamps appear blossoming with 
 flames ; the twin furnit jre 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, awe? mountains, 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 tongues 
 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. 1 
 
 Moreover, if any one believes that nothing is known, 2 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. 3 And although I should even grant that he knows 
 
 1 Things which the mind straightway rejects from itself.] Ver. 469. 
 Animus quas ab se protimis abdit. '* Abdit," says Wakefiela, " repettit, 
 ryicit, rejects the doubtful, that it may admit the certain." Lach- 
 mann, with Lambinus and Creech, reads ab se addit, that is, " adopts 
 from its own fancy." 
 
 2 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." Lambiniu. 
 
 1 Who, of his own will, has placed himself with his face toward* 
 M 2
 
 lfu LUCRETIUS. B. iv. 475-489. 
 
 this, I should still put to him the following question : when 
 he lias 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 differs from what is certain ? 
 
 The knowledge of truth, you will find, is derived from the 
 senses as-its-origin, 1 and you will own that the senses cannot be 
 refuted. For that which, of its own power, 2 can refute false 
 notions by real facts, 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, 3 reasoning, 1 say, which has arisen wholly from 
 the senses, and which can depend on nothing else, be of suffi- 
 cient force to refute those senses? For unless these, our 
 tenses, are true and trust-worthy, all reasoning consequently 
 becomes false and unfounded ? But what, that is external to 
 the senses, shall confute the senses, or will they disagree among 
 themselves, and refute one another? Will the ears be able to 
 refute the eyes ? Or will the touch refute the ears ? Or will 
 the taste of the mouth, moreover, refute the touch ? Will the 
 
 his footsteps.] Ver. 473. Qui 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." 
 
 Wakefield. 
 
 1 The knowledge of truth, you will find, is derived from the senses 
 as its origin, %c.] Ver. 479. Invenies primis ab sensibus 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. 
 11, 3, 8. 
 
 2 For that which, of its own power, <Sfc.] Ver. 481. 
 
 Nam majore fide debet reperirier illud, 
 Sponte sua veris quod possit vincere falsa. 
 
 It is a question what is to be understood after majore fide. Greater 
 faith than what? The commentators give no help. I have added 
 that which makes, I hope, a satisfactory sense. Epicurus called 
 <he senses the criteria of truth. 
 
 * Shall reasoning, arising from erring sense, ire.] Ver. 484. An ab 
 tensufaho ratio orta, &c. If the senses err, reasoning, which is based 
 on the senses, cannot prove that they err. It could only litem lite 
 But the senses, as Lucretius proceeds to show, do not err.
 
 8. n 490-619. LUCRETIUS. 165 
 
 nostrils confute the other senses, or will the eyes contradict 
 them? It is, as I think, not so ; for to each sense 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 body, con- 
 fute themselves ; for equal trust must at all 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 better 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, 2 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, 3 
 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 
 
 1 By any means to let slip.] Ver. 505. Dimittere quoquam. " Glos- 
 sator vetus: Quoquam, b\utg TTOV, Trot." Wakcfield. Lambinus reads 
 qua-quam. 
 
 1 To avoid precipices.] Vcr. 510. Prtecipitesque locos vitare. 
 Rupem et puteum vitare patentem : Hor. Ep. ii. 135. " Too wise to 
 walk into a well." Pope. 
 
 3 You ma- be sure.] Ver. 512. Tibi. In ver. 521 I h*ve omitted 
 tibi.
 
 166 LUCRETIUS. B. iv. o3)-554. 
 
 eem inclined to fall, and some actually do fall, being all made 
 unsound by 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 sound, as it passes forth, makes the wind-pipe rougher. 
 For when the atoms of the voice (a larger body of them than 
 usual having risen together) have proceeded to go forth from 
 the mouth, the passage of the mouth, from the pores being 
 filled 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 and words consist of corporeal particles, 
 as having power to cause corporeal injury. 
 
 Nor does it escape your knowledge, also, how much sub- 
 stance 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 
 his 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 vales of Helicon. 
 
 These words and sounds, therefore, (when, being formed 
 within, we expel them from our body, and send then forth 
 straight by the mouth,) the active tongue, skilful-in-forming 
 words, articulates ; and the shape into which the lips are 
 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. 555-583. 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 body of air, are necessarily confused, and the 
 voice, while it flies 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 it, as it 
 tcere, 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 diffused through 
 the air. Some portion of it too, struck against solid objects, 
 and rebounding like a stone, 2 returns a sound, and sometimes 
 mocks you with the semblance of a word. 
 
 Which things when you consider, my good friend, you may 
 be able to render an account to yourself and others, how rocks, 
 in solitary places, regularly return similar forms of words to 
 those tvhich we 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 six 
 or seven words, when you uttered only one ; for the moun- 
 tains, reverberating the words spoken, repeated them so that 
 they were re-echoed 3 without change, 
 
 Such places the neighbouring people pretend that Satyrs and 
 Nymphs inhabit ; and say that there are Fauns in them, by 
 
 1 Cannot distinguish what is the meaning of the words.] Ver. 
 562. Neque ollam Internoscere, verborum sententia qua sit : i. e. ollam 
 sententlam, qua sit, or qu<e sit olla sententia. Lambinus, for ollam, 
 reads hilum. 
 
 8 Rebounding like a stone.] Ver. 572. Lapis rejecta. This is 
 Wakefield's reading and interpretation. But the soundness of the 
 passage is very doubtful. Lachmann, following Lambious, reads 
 Pars solidis adlisa locis, rejecta sonorem, &c. 
 
 * Repeated them so that they were re-echoed.] Ver. 501. Iterabant 
 referri. " Id est, itart referri. ita ut referrentur. " WakeJUld.
 
 168 LUCRETIUS. B. IT. "584- -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 1 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 that will listen to wonderful 
 stories? 
 
 Furthermore, it is not surprising, how, through places 
 where the eyes cannot discern plain objects, through these 
 very places voices pass, and excite the ears. We often, too, wit- 
 ness a dialogue held between two persons in different 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 speaker, are filled with 
 voices, and shaken with sound. But as for 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 from 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. 
 
 That faculty, by which 3 we perceive taste, the organs being 
 
 1 Ceasing not to repeat.] Ver. 591. Ne cesset fundere. 
 
 2 Too eager for ears that will listen to wonderful stories.^ Ver. 59fi. 
 Avidum nimis auricularum. " Men, being eager for listeners, invent 
 itories to attract them." Lambinus. 
 
 3 That faculty, by which, $e.] Ver. 617. Hoc, yjd sentimus sucum t
 
 B. IT. 618- -640. LUCRETIUS. 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. 1 
 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, 2 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 3 tenor and action of the stomach. 
 
 I will now explain, (in order that we may understand this 
 point,) how it is that different food is allotted to different ani- 
 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, 4 perishes, and even 
 
 lingua atque palatum, Pliisculum habent in se rationis, &c. The hoc is 
 Wakefield's reading, and makes the passage nonsense. Lambinus 
 reads Hac queis, and Lachmann gives Nee qui. Wakefield interprets 
 his hoc by hcec res, and I have endeavoured to make the best of that 
 which is bad. 
 
 1 Soft tongue.] Ver. 623. Rarce lingua. Of a spongy consistence, 
 its atoms not being closely combined. 
 
 2 Issuing forth in a body.] Ver. 627. Coorta. 
 
 * Humectant.] Ver. 634. Stomachi humectum sercare. tenorem. "By 
 humectus tenor stomachi he means that copious and constant supply 
 of saliva and juices, which suffices to digest the food." Havercamp. 
 
 4 A serpent, which is touched with human saliva, $e.]^ Ver. 640. 
 Serpens hominis qiue 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.
 
 170 LUCRETIUS. B. iv. 641876. 
 
 commits suicide by biting himself. Besides, hellebore ia 
 strong poison 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 they 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 ; mauy pores must be round, 
 and some polygonal, varied in several ways. For as the na- 
 ture of the shapes of the sem : nal-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, hia 
 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 bitten sensation, are more adapted to it. For even in sweet 
 bodies, as in the flavour and substance of honey, both rough 
 and smooth particles are mixed ; a fact which we have de- 
 monstrated to you frequently before. * 
 
 And now give me your attention further; for I shall show 
 in what manner the approach of odour affects the nostrils. 
 
 1 Demonstrated to vou frequently befae.l Ver. 674. See i. 815 
 894 ; ii. 585.
 
 B. iv. 677-705. LUCRETIUS. 171 
 
 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 of 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 far 
 distant, and vultures by the smell of carcasses ; also the keen- 
 scent of dogs, preceding their steps, leads them 1 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 kind 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 ; 2 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 find out one 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 the 
 
 1 The keen-scent of dogs, preceding their steps, leads them.'] Ver. 
 683. Permissa canum vis Ducit. Gronovius, cited by Havercamp, 
 interprets permissa, " aiacrov<Ta, uvSilffa," or "penetrans, longe mis- 
 sa." Vis I take in the sense of faculty, keen-scent. In Virgil's odora 
 canum vis, (JSn. iv. 132,) it probably means force, number, multitude. 
 
 2 Soon gradually dies away.] Ver. 694. Perit antl Paullatim. I 
 have considered ante 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 the 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, 1 is accustomed to call Aurora with his loud voice ; 
 lions, I say, icill 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, however 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 affect 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 Scyllac, 
 and the Cerberean mouths of dogs, and the apparitions of 
 those whose bones, 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. Xoctem u> 
 ptoaentilna alia. " His wings disturbing and driving away the night 
 with sound and flapping." Lambinw.
 
 B iv. 741763. LUCRETIUS. 173 
 
 compose. 1 Foi 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 have come 
 together by chance, they easily and quickly cohere, (as we 
 said before,) because of their subtle nature and filmy texture. 
 
 Other images of this sort are produced in the same manner ; 
 and since these, from their extreme lightness, are, as I have 
 shown above, swiftly carried about, any one thin image of 
 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 2 is similar to that on the bodily senses, it necessarily 
 follows that that which we see with the mind, and that which 
 we see with the eye, are effected by similar means. As I have 
 shown, accordingly, that I perceive lions, for example, 3 by 
 means of images of lions, which excite the eyes ; we may un- 
 derstand that the mind is moved by images of lions in like 
 manner, and by other images of other things,* which it sees 
 and discerns equally and not less than the eyes ; only we must 
 observe that it sees more subtle images. 
 
 Nor for any other reason does this sense of the mind be- 
 come awake when sleep has 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 
 
 1 Partly, those which images, formed of figures of these two kinds, 
 compose.] Ver. 740. Et qua conficiunt ex horum facta figuris. " Et 
 quas imagines simulacra, ex horum duorum figuris facta, confici- 
 unt." Wakefield. 
 
 * Inasmuch as this impression on the mind, Sfc.~] Ver. 752. 
 Quatenus hoc simile est illi, quod mente videmus 
 Atque oculis, simili fieri ratione necesse est. 
 
 " Hoc simile est illi; this is like to that; namely, the image in the 
 mind to the image which strikes the eyes ; and therefore quad mente 
 videmus et quod oculis videmus, what we see with the mind, and what 
 we see with the eye, must be similarly produced." Wakefield. 
 
 3 For example.] Ver. 754. Forte. "Quasi ita dicat: finge me 
 aliquo casu leones videre." Lambinus. " Verbi gratia." Creech. 
 
 4 By images of lions, and by other images of other things.'] Ver. 
 
 7.57. Per simulacra leonum, cetera, qua; videt ague, Nee minus, atque oculi. 
 " Per simulacra leonum et cetera simulacra, (i. e. aliarum rcrum simu- 
 *acia,) quae videt aeque atque oculi." Forbiger.
 
 174 LUCRETIUS. B. iv. 764794 
 
 been yielded up, death and the earth h.ive already taken pos- 
 session. This Nature of necessity brings to pass ; and from 
 this cause, that all the senses of the body, being obstructed 
 and bound up by sleep, are at rest throughout the set-eral mem- 
 bers, and are unable to refute any false appearance by real 
 facts. Besides, the memory lies inactive and torpid in sleep ; 
 and shows no disbelief in appearances, or intimates that he, 
 whom the mind imagines that it sees alive, has long ago par- 
 taken of death and forgetful ness. 
 
 As to what remains for consideration, it is not surprising 
 that images should move, and agitate their arms, and other 
 membersrwith regularity ; for it happens that many an image 
 seems to do this in our sleep. This is to be explained in the fol- 
 lowing way ; that when the first image passes off, and a second 
 is afterwards produced in another position, the former then 
 seems to have changed its gesture. This, doubtless, we must 
 conceive to be done by a very rapid process ; so great is the 
 activity of images, and so great the number of things from 
 which they proceed; and so great too is the abundance of 
 atoms, that it may suffice for that which is to be perceived by 
 the senses, at any time whatsoever. And many other ques- 
 tions are raised on these matters, and many points must be 
 made clear by us, if we wish to explain these subjects dis- 
 tinctly. 
 
 In the first place, it is inquired why the mind immediately 
 thinks of that very thing of which any one has desired to 
 think. 1 Do images watch our pleasure, and, as soon as we 
 wish, does an image present itself to us ? If it is our desire 
 to think of the sea, of the earth, or of the heaven, of assem- 
 blies of men, of a procession, of banquets, of battles, does 
 nature create and prepare images of all these things at our 
 word ? Especially when the minds of different men in the 
 same country and place, think of things entirely different ? 
 
 What shall we say, moreover, when we perceive images in 
 our sleep advance before us in order, and move their pliant 
 limbs ; when, as we observe them, they wave with ease their 
 bending arms alternately, and repeat gesture after gesture with 
 the foot corresponding to the look? Are images, forsooth, 
 inspired with the art of dancing, and do they, skilled in ges- 
 
 1 Of which any one has desired to think.] Ver. 781. Quod cuiyue 
 libido Venerit. That is, quod cuique libuerit (cogitare).
 
 *. iv. 795 813. LUCRETIUS. 175 
 
 ticulation, wander about, in order that they may make sport for 
 its in the night time ? Or will this rather be the truth, that 
 we perceive that variety of motions in one and the same por- 
 tion of time ; as in that time in which one word is uttered, 1 
 many smaller portions of time, (which reason discovers to be 
 
 in it,) 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 itself 
 and expects that that will occur which is consequent 2 on that 
 which has preceded; so that it observes each particular oc- 
 currence. Thus, therefore, the effect is produced. 
 
 Do you not see, also, that the eyes, 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 
 diicern 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 
 
 1 As in that time in which one word is uttered, 8;c.] Ver. 797. 
 
 Consentimus id, ut, quum vox emittitur ima, 
 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. " On bien ne sera-t-il pas plus veritable, que dans le terns que 
 nous exprimons notre pensee par quelque voix, il y a plusieurs instans 
 cachez dans 1' espace de ce terns, par le moyen desquels 1' agilite" des 
 images aussi bien que leur ecoulement universel, fournit en quelque 
 terns que ce soit, de quoi remplir la variete' de la pensee." Coutures. 
 
 2 Expects that that will occur which is consequent, $c.] Ver. 807- 
 Speratque futurum, Ut videat, quod consequitur, rem quamque. I have 
 translated this according to the notion of Forbiger, as it is his text. 
 ifperatque futurum quod conseqiiitur, ut videat rem quamque. Other 
 editions (except Wakefield's) put no stop after consequitur.
 
 176 LUCRETIUS. B. rr. 814-30. 
 
 were all the time removed and far distant from youf How is 
 it therefore surprising, if the mind loses sight of att 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 us 
 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 matters, remember that it is necessary diligently 
 to shun this fault, 1 and to avoid it cautiously, as a most griet- 
 ous error ; the fault, namely, of supposing that att the parts 
 of animals were formed with a view to the uses to which they 
 have been adapted; lest yon 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 
 
 1 In these matters, remember that it is necessary diligently to shun 
 this fault, ft.] Ver. 824. 
 
 Illud in his rebus vitium vehementer inesse 
 Effugere errorem, vitareque praemetuenter, 
 Lumina 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 understood memento : (memento) 
 inesse in his rebus vehementer effngere illud vitium (quasi) errorem, 
 *e. The only successful correction is Lachmann's, who alters the 
 first line to JBud M kit ritium veJkematier reb*\necesse at ,- a conjec- 
 ture which the shades of Lambinns and Faber may wonder that 
 they missed. 
 
 ** Lucretius maintains that the eye was not made for seeing, nor 
 the ear for hearing. But die 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 die human frame is so convincing, that it carries the 
 mind with it, in spite of die resistance suggested by speculative 
 systems." WJteweJTs Bridyewater Treatise, p. 351.
 
 B. IT. 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 us that we might perform those 
 offices which would be necessary for the support of life. 
 
 Other suppositions of this sort whatever explanations men 
 give are all preposterous, reasoning being thus 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- 
 culty of seeing in existence before the light of the eyes was 
 made, nor that of speaking with words before the tongue 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 commit the wearied body to rest is of 
 much more antiquity than the soft cushions of the couch ; and 
 to quench the thirst was practised before cups were invented. 
 
 Such things as these, then, which were found out from expe- 
 rience and the objects o/life, may be believed to have oeen 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 1 say, it is impossible for you to believe 1 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 ojf 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 
 
 1 It is impossible for you to believe.] Ver. 857. Procvl e* vt 
 credere pottit. 
 
 m
 
 178 LUCRETIUS. 6. iv. 863 898. 
 
 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 stomach, 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 hmo it is given us to move 
 our limbs out-of-the-direct-line ; l and what cause is wont to 
 push forward this great weight of our body. Do thou, my 
 friend, attentively-receive my instructions. 
 
 I 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. 2 When, therefore, 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 moved 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 
 
 1 Out-of-the-direct-line.] Ver. 879. Fare. Wakefield's reading 
 for the varie of other editors. 
 
 2 And according to what it discerns is the image of his action, j 
 Ver. 86 Id, quad providet, Hints rei constat imago. " Id, nempe 
 secundum, Karcl." Wakefield. So likewise Forbiger. Larabinui 
 reads At quod, $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. 896930. LUCRETIUS. ITS* 
 
 the passages abundantly, and is thus dispersed through every 
 minute portion of the body ; thus, therefore, the body, by 
 two several powers, 1 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 and 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 shall 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 2 is better 
 than the croak of cranes, dispersed among the clouds of hea- 
 ven, driven by the south wind. Do you only, Memmius, 
 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; but not wholly, for if it were all 
 withdrawn, 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 flame, as it were, rise from secret heat. 
 
 But by what means this change from wakefulness to sleep 
 
 1 By two several powers.] Ver. 897. Rebus utrwque duabus. Vi* 
 by the soul and the air. 
 
 J Short melody of the swan, e.] See on ver. 181. 
 if 2
 
 180 LUCRETIUS. a. iv. 931 962. 
 
 is produced, and how the soul 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 air ; 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, 1 and when assaults penetrate 
 through the small pores of our frame to its primary parts and 
 first elements, a labefactation, 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. 2 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 often subside with a sinking lassitude, 3 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 effort. 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. 
 
 1 Affected from both causes.] Ver. 940. Utrinque secus vapulet. 
 " Utrinque secus, that is, ex utrdyue parte, internally and externally." 
 Wakefield. 
 
 1 Wholly fails.] Ver. 950. Abit altt, i. e. penitus, omnino. 
 
 * Sinking lassitude.] Ver. 954. Cubanti tamd. " By tama is meant 
 excessive fatigue from walking, when the blood settles in the leps, 
 and causes a swelling." Fetlut.
 
 a. IT . 963 1001. LUCRETIUS. 181 
 
 And in general, as 3ach of us, having pursued any study, 
 is devoted to it in his thoughts, or in whatever occupation we 
 have been muc.i 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, and 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 new/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 breed 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. B. iv. 10021028 
 
 and looks. And the more fierce any breeds are, the more must 
 the same breeds show fierceness in their sleep. 
 
 But various birds, likewise, take flight, and suddenly disturb 
 with their wings the groves of the gods during the night, if, 
 in their quiet sleep, 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 vsst efforts in the day, frequently perform and 
 carry on the *ame things also during their sleep. Kings 
 storm cities, 1 ve taken prisoners, join battle, raise a cry as if 
 they were beir. * stabbed on the spot. Many struggle-desper- 
 ately, and utter groans as if in pain, and fill all parts around 
 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 dreams 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 by the 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 pour forth the bottled liquid 2 of the whole body, 
 when the Babylonian coverlets, of magnificent splendour, are 
 saturated. 
 
 Or when, at length, 3 the full ripe hour is reach'd 
 Of vigorous manhood, and the genial stores 
 
 1 Kings storm cities.] Ver. 1010 Eeges expugnant. " Kings, whose 
 minds are agitated with mighty thoughts in the day, are naturally 
 occupied with similar thoughts during the night, and accordingly 
 storm, e. g towers, fortresses. Thus reges will be the nominative 
 case, which I think proper to mention, because some commentators 
 have injudiciouslv taken it for the accusative." Wa&eJUU. 
 1 Bottled liquid.] Ver. 1025. Humorem saccatum. 
 
 Or when, at length, *c.] Ver. 1027- The remainder of this book 
 t is thought advisable to give in the version of Dr. Good. In tran- 
 scribing it for the press, six or seven words, at most, have been 
 ered, partly to make nearer approaches to the text, and partly 
 other reasons What Lucrems here presents to his reader, is a 
 of philosophical and moral c nervations and precepts. They
 
 t ;v. 10291041. 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 confirms. 
 And as on various functions various powers 
 Alone can act propulsive, human seeds 
 By nought but human beauty can be rous'd. 
 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 
 Excite 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 expressly upon the Nature of Things," and "our poet 
 \a entitled," he adds, to the joint thanks of naturalists and ana- 
 tomical philosophers for irradiating 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 impurity of language, nothing that may not be 
 mentioned with propriety. If any thing shall appear objectionable, 
 such appearance is to be attributed, not to the fault of the poet, but 
 to that of the reader." Fober. 
 
 " De amore, sterilitate, foecunditate, et aliis omnibus hanc ma- 
 teriam attingentibus, liberius forsan et apertius, quam nonnulli vel- 
 lent, disputat ; sed philosophis saltern, vel in his tractandis, videtur 
 esse indulgendum." Wakefield. 
 
 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 acquainted 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 hit 
 poem addressed."
 
 184 LUCRETIUS. B. iv. KM2--107& 
 
 Ther| 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 glist'ning 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 congest, and from frame to frame 
 Pour the rich h-nnour ; 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 
 Rings with her name, whate'er the path pursued. 
 
 Yet fly such phantoms, from the food of love 
 Abstain, libidinous ; to worthier themes 
 Turn, turn thy 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, 
 Eank, and more pois'nous ; and each coming day 
 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
 
 . iv. 10761107 LUCRETIUS. 1$5 
 
 Drives his keen teeth, and every 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 check the lover's rage. 
 
 Then hopes he, too, in the same form to quench 
 The madd'ning fires where first the flame 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, 
 Scatter'd by every wind. As, oft, the man, 
 Parch'd up with thirst, amid his dreams to drink 
 Strives, 1 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 flower, 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 
 
 1 Parch'd up with thirst, amid his dreams to drink Strives, $c.] 
 Ver. 10QO. Ut bibere in somnis sitiens quum qucerit, et humor Non da- 
 tur. Isaiah xxix. 8, " It shall even be as when a hungry 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 ; but he awaketh, and, behold, he is faint, and his soul hath ap- 
 petite."
 
 186 LUCRETIUS. B. IT. 1108 112S 
 
 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 he, 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 laagh, 
 Laugh from her feet soft Sicyon's shoes superb ; l 
 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 ; 2 
 While feasts and festivals of boundless pomp, 
 And costliest viands, garlands, odours, wines, 
 
 1 Unguents from his mistress laugh, Laugh from her feet soft Si- 
 cyen's shoes superb.] Ver. 1121. Unguenta et pulchra in pedibia 
 Sicyonia rident. Shoes from Sicyon were worn only by the showy 
 and luxurious. " If you were to offer me apair 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." 
 
 1 Robes Of Chian loose, or Alidonian 'mould.] Ver. 1126. In 
 paUam atque Alidensia Chiaque. Wakefield thinks that Alidensia is for 
 Alindensia, from Alinda, 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 Caria, mentioned by Steph. Byzant. ; so that 
 one epithet, he says, supports and illustrates the other. Lambinus 
 and others read Melitensia Ceaque, from Melita, or Malta, (Meli- 
 ttniiu vestis, Cic. Ver. ii. 74,) and Ceos, an island in the ^Egean.
 
 B. iv. 1129116.'. 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 flow'ret. Keen remorse 
 Goads him, perchance, for dissipated time, 
 And months on months destroy'd ; 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 amoui's attend 
 Most blest and prosp'rous ; but on those adverse 
 Throng myriads daily, obvious and more keen. 
 Hence, by the muse forewarn'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 ador'd, 
 Of mind, of body, let thy memory ne'er 
 One hour forget ; for these full oft mankind 
 See not, by passion blinded ; while, revers'd, 
 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 sway'd, 
 While yet themselves are sway'd 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. IT. 1134 USA 
 
 On life's last verge, a maid of matchless waist ; 
 The broad, big-bosom'd, Ceres full display'd, 
 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 form'd. 
 
 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 Hv'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 first 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 guesa 
 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 amuin 
 By mutual hopes to run the race of love. 
 Thus nature prompts ; by mutual hopes alone, 
 By bliss assur'd, birds, beasts, and grazing herda, 
 The task essay ; nor would the female else
 
 B. iv. 11971230. LUCRETIUS. 
 
 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 
 Work'd 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 j 
 Of ancestors remote ; for various seeds, 
 Commingled various, through the parent frame 
 Lurk, which from race to race preserve entire j 
 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 unblcat,
 
 190 LUCRETIUS. a. iv 1231-1264 
 
 No lovely race who I oasts 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, tc Sll the void reluctant womb. 
 For blank 3teri lity from seeds ascends 
 Too gross, or too attenuate ; if the last, 
 Ne'er to the regions that generic spread 
 Cleave they, rejected instant as propell'd. 
 But if too gross the genial atoms, dull 
 Move they, and spiritless, 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 Jove harmonious, whence increase alone 
 CaniDfing, 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 essayM 
 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 his 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 employ'd ; 
 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-strainM and ever-labouring lungs
 
 iv. 12651283. LUCRETIUS. 191 
 
 These, rather, urg'd beneath the tender fray, 
 
 All fruit prohibit ; since the genial share 
 
 Oft turn 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, by cleanliness most chaste, 
 And 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. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Lucretius commences with the praise of Epicurus, and shows that he do- 
 serves to be called a deity more than any other benefactor 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 the 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. 613 702. Of the phases of the 
 moon, and the eclipses of the moon and sun, ver. 703 777- The produc- 
 tion of plants, animals, and man, ver. 778 834. Nature, in her early 
 efforts at production, may have generated monsters, but not such as Chi- 
 maeras or Centaurs, ver. 835 922. The rudeness of the early life of man, 
 the commencement of culture, and the invention of speech, ver. 923 
 1089. The discovery of fire, and its effects ; the progress of society anu 
 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. 131. 
 
 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, 1 say, illustrious Memmius, who first discovered that 
 discipline of life 1 which is now called WISDOM ; and who, by 
 the science of philosophy, placed human 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 happily 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 Nemsean 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 horses of Diomede, breathing 
 tire from their nostrils, dwelling near Thrace, and the Bisto- 
 nian regions, and Ismarus ; or how could the Arcadian birds, 
 
 1 Discovered that discipline of life, $c.] Ver. 9. Vitce rationem in- 
 venit earn qu<e nunc appellatur sapientia. Wakeficld 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 insaniens sapientia, "an erring or insane philo- 
 sophy."
 
 B T. 32-60. LUCRETIUS, 195 
 
 formidable with their hooked talons, inhabiting the lake Stym- 
 phalus, have so much annoyed us that we should 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 tha 
 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 approach 1 } 
 
 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 
 bitter cares, arising from lust, tear the man distracted by them, 
 and how many consequent terrors ! Or what ills 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 evils, 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- 
 
 1 Is abundantly overrun.] Ver. 40. Ad satietatem scatit. "Ad 
 latietatem, i. e. Trpbc; icopov, ralde, very much or abundantly." Lam- 
 trinus. 
 
 * To break the strong conditions of time and dettiny.] Ver. 59. 
 Validas ceci rescitidere leges. "To endure beyond the bounds fixed 
 and appointed by nature." Creech. 
 
 o 2
 
 196 LUCRETIUS. n. v 6181 
 
 istence, the substance of the mind, above all, has been found fc 
 be; and has been demonstrated to be formed of a generated 
 consistence at first, and to be unable to endure uninjured 
 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 the point at which I have to demonstrate that 
 the world 1 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 produced. 2 / have also to tell 
 how the human race, with various speech, began to hold in- 
 tercommunication 3 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- 
 
 1 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 ration is detulit ordo 
 Ut mihi, mortali consistere corpore mundum, 
 Nativumque simul, ratio reddunda 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 born 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 hucut. 
 
 1 What have at no period been produced.^ Ver. 71. Qu<s nullo 
 tint tempore natce. " Understand Chimaeras, Centaurs, Scyllae, Her- 
 maphrodites, $e." Faber. 
 
 * To hold intercommunication.] Ver. 73. Inter se vesci. " Vesci, 
 l. e. to live, or enjoy life, by the formation of society ; in a secondary 
 fense of the word." U r aJ*>fielA
 
 B. v. 83105. LUCHETIUS. 197 
 
 pose that they are guided by any plan of the gods. For if 
 those who have fairly understood that the gods pass a life free 
 from care, nevertheless wonder, meanwhile, how things can 
 severally be carried on, especially in those matters which are 
 seen in the ethereal regions over our heads, they are carried N 
 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 what 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 which, dear Memmius, 
 (three bodies, three forms so dissimilar, three substances of 
 such a different consistence,) one day will consign to destruc- 
 tion ; and the mass and fabric of the world, sustained through 
 so many years, shall sink into total dissolution. 1 
 
 Nor does it escape ray 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 difficult it is for me to 
 convince you 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 2 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- 
 
 1 The mass and fabric of the world shall sink into total dissolution."} 
 Ver. 97. Ruet moles et machina mundi. 
 
 Flowers of the sky ! ye, too, to age must yield, 
 Frail as your silken sisters of the field! 
 Star after star from heaven's high 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 ! 
 
 Darwin's Botanic Garden, iv. 371. 
 
 * The avenues through which the nearest main road, & c -3 Ver. 
 J03. Via qu& munita fidei Proxima fert humanum in pectus templaque 
 MMfjt. " Via proxima is the nearest or shortest way; for we most 
 readily believe what we discover by sight and touch." Lambinus. 
 Ti.s common people, in many parts of England, have a saying, that 
 4 Seeing is believing, and feeling is truth."
 
 198 LUCRETIUS. n. v. 106-1*1 
 
 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, 
 father than reality, convince us that all things, overcome by 
 the influence of time, may sink with a direfully-sounding 
 rrash into destruction. 
 
 On this subject, before I begin to utter oracles, (expressed 
 with more sincerity, and with much more true reason, than 
 those o/"the Pythian priestess, who speaks from the tripod and 
 laurel of Apollo,) I will set forth to you many consolations in 
 learned 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, being 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 us 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, 1 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 
 
 1 As a tree cannot exist in the sky, &<.] Ver. 129. Sieut in atkert 
 rbor, &o. See this passage in book iii. 785, seq.
 
 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 Avater, 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, moreover, that you should believe there 
 are sacred seats of the gods in any quarters of our world. 
 For the nature and substance of the gods, being subtle and far 
 removed 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 assuredly touch nothing that is 
 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. 1 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 basis ; 2 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 
 afford 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 o/*life? 3 For it would seem that he only, whom old 
 
 1 Subtle, and correspondent to their own nature.] Ver. 155. Temws, 
 dr. corpore eorum. " The abodes of the gods must be subtle, as con- 
 sisting of the same sort of atoms of which the gods themselves con- 
 sist. " Faber. 
 
 2 Displace the sum of things from their basis.] Ver. 164. Ab 
 
 into evortere xumma. Lambinus has summam. If we read summa, in 
 the ace. pi. with Forbiger, it must be considered as equivalent to om~ 
 nia, cuncta. Lucretius elsewhere uses summus for totus, as in i. 49, de 
 tnmmii cocli ratione. 
 
 * To chrmge their former mode of life.] Ver. 1 70 Vitam midare pn- 
 orem. If the life of the gods was happy from the first, why did they
 
 200 LUCRETIUS. u. v. 172199. 
 
 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 desire of novelty ? 1 
 Or, forsooth, the life of the gods was oppressed with gloom and 
 sorrow, until the genial birth of terrestrial things shone forth ? 
 Or, again, what evil would it have been to us never to have 
 been born ? For 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 the love of life, nor was 
 ever in the number of living beings? what affliction is it not 
 to have been born ? 
 
 Moreover, whence was a model or idea for making things, 
 and whence was the notion of men themselves, 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 \\\Q first 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 perpetual renovation is now car- 
 ried on. 
 
 But if I were even ignorant 3 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 ? 
 
 1 But in him what could excite the desire of novelty?] 
 
 Ver. 174. Quid potuit nocitatis amorem accendere tali? "Tali OVTI, in 
 such a being, whether god or man." Faber. 
 
 * Nor was ever in the number of living beings.] Ver. 181. NecfuA 
 in nuntero. " Rerum creatarum." Faber. 
 
 1 But if I were even ignorant, &c.] Ver. 196. Quod si jam rerum 
 tgiorem, &c. This sentiment he had already advanced, ii. 177, scq.
 
 . v. 200-229. LUCRETIUS. 201 
 
 us by divine power , so great is the faultmess with 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 j 1 rocks, 
 and great marshes, and the sea, which widely separates the 
 coasts of countries, cover another vast portion. Moreover, 
 burning heat, and the constant descent of frost, deprive mor- 
 tals of almost two-thirds of what is left. And as to the land 
 which yet remains, nature would still, by 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 if. 
 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 heat, 
 or sudden showers and cold frosts destroy them, or blasts 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 around with 
 mournful wailings, as is natural for one by whom so much 
 evil in life remains to be undergone. But the various sorts of 
 cattle, herds, and wild beasts, grow up with ease; they have 
 
 1 Vast portion.] Ver. 202. Avidam partem. " Avidus for vast; 
 since what is greedy requires what is vast." Gifaniits. The readei 
 may take this for an explanation if he pleases. The soundness of 
 the reading is doubtful. Lachmann gives, from conjecture, aliquant 
 partem. 
 
 " A part how small of the terraqueous globe 
 Is tenanted by man ! 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!" 
 
 Young' NigJU Thcuyhla, i.
 
 202 LPCRETIU8. B. v. 230-258. 
 
 no need of rattles cr other toys; nor is the fond and broken 
 voice of the nurse l 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. 2 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. For which reason, when I see the four 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, 3 
 while rivers, as they strike against their banks, wear them 
 away. Besides, whatever body increases another, is, on its 
 
 1 Fond and broken voice of the nurse.] Ver. 231. Blandaatque 
 infracta loquela. " Broken, because parents and nurses are accus- 
 tomed to use half words, not whole ones, to children." Lambimu. 
 
 2 The whole frame of the world must be considered to be of a 
 similar nature.] Ver. 240. Debet eAdem omnis mundi natura pitta ri. 
 
 Eadem via," says Wakefield, that is, in the same way, or by the 
 same rule. Lambinus reads Debet tota eadem mundi natura putari, 
 which is easier to be understood. A little below, in "both gener- 
 ated and mortal," (mortalia et nativa simul.) I have transposed the 
 epithets. 
 
 1 Is washed offhy showers.] Ver. 256. Ad diluviem revocatur /m. 
 " I s turned into water." Creech.
 
 B. v. 259280. LUCRETIUS. 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 l of 
 water ; for first that part is removed which the strong winds, 
 Bweeping the ocean, and the ethereal sun, dispelling it with 
 his rays, subtract from its surface; and next that part which 
 is distributed through all the earth underneath. For the salt 
 is strained off in its passage through the ground, and the sub- 
 stance of the water flows back, and all meets, here 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. 2 
 
 I shall now, therefore, observe concerning the air, that it 
 is changed, 3 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- 
 
 1 That a certain portion of the water is carried off, and that it 
 happens, at last, that there is no superabundance, #c.] Ver. 265. 
 
 Quicquid aquai 
 
 Tollitur, in summaque fit ut nihil humor abundet. 
 Quicquid is for quidque, as Lambinus and Creech expound it. In 
 summit, says Wakefield, is " tandem, denique, post eventus omnes." 
 
 2 Wherever a passage, once cut, has borne along the waters in 
 their liquid course.] Ver. 273. 
 
 Qua via secta semel liquido pede detulit undas. 
 
 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 which perhaps no other English line 
 can equal." 
 
 Which runs, and as it runs, for ever shall run on. 
 1 That it is changed.] Ver. 274. Quid mutatur " Qualiter, how."
 
 204 LUCRETIUS. u. v. 281311 
 
 petually 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 whatever brightness it first sends forth, 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, 
 as it were, to break through the rays of light, all the lower 
 part of these rays is immediately lost, and 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 light itself furnished a perpetual supply. 
 
 Even your nocturnal torches, which are things of earth, 
 your hanging lamps, and tapers, brilliant with waving flames, 
 and showing themselves fat with abundance of smoke, are im- 
 pelled, 1 in a similar manner, by the agency of heat, to emit 
 new radiance ; they incessantly discharge their tremulous 
 rays; 2 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, 3 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 ? Do 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 ? 
 
 1 Are impelled.] Ver. 298. Properant. 
 
 * They incessantly discharge their tremulous rays.] Ver. 299. 
 Tremere ignibus instant. " Tremulos radios spargunt." Creech. 
 
 1 Through successive generations of beams.] Ver. 304. Ex alia 
 styue alto subortu. The sense is evident.
 
 B. V. 312331 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 grow old. 1 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 
 continued 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, as 
 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 2 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 - 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 
 
 1 You might even believe that they desire for themselves a 
 time to grow old.] Ver. 314. Qu&rere proporro sibi quomque senescere 
 credos. Senescere, " to grow old," quomque, " at some time or other." 
 Cunque, as in Horace, (Od. i. 32, 15,) Mihi cunque salve Rite precanti. 
 Wakefield interprets it quocunque 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, in the sense of porro, preeterea, etiam. 
 Lambinus read, from conjecture, Cedere proporro, subitoque senescere 
 casu. Lachmann, also from conjecture, gives Qua fore proporro veti- 
 tumque se?iescere credas, and alters the passage in Horace to medicum- 
 que salve Rite vocanti. 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 method of amending it, may be 
 doubted. 
 
 8 By receiving, <Sfc.] Ver. 324. Quum recipit res. Creech inter- 
 prets "cum istasres dissolutat recipit."
 
 206 LUCRETIUS. R- v. 332357. 
 
 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 I write, has been 
 but lately discovered ; and I myself, among the first discover- 
 ers, have been found the first poet 1 that could express it in 
 the language of my country. 
 
 But if, perchance, you suppose that all these arts 2 formerly 
 existed the same a* 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 by these 
 facts? admit that there will probably be also a destruction of 
 the earth and the heaven. For, since things were affected 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 4 
 to those whom nature has removed from life. 
 
 Further, whatsoever bodies remain eternal, 5 must either, as 
 being of a solid consistence, repel assaults, and suffer nothing 
 to penetrate them that can disunite their compact parts 
 within ; (such as are the primary-particles of matter, the na- 
 ture of which we have already shown ;) or they must be able 
 
 1 Among the first discoverers, have been found the first poet, %c.~\ 
 Ver. 337. Primus cum primis ipse repertus. Wakefield gives this 
 comment : " His primis rerum repertoribus ego quoque sum reper- 
 tor annumerandus." With primus I understand poeta. 
 
 1 All these arts.] Ver. 339. I have adopted arts from Creech. 
 
 8 So much the more, being convinced by these facts, <$re.] Ver. 344. 
 Tanto quique magis victus fateare necesse est. Quique 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. 
 
 4 Sicken with diseases similarly, $.] Ver. 350. Morbis cegrescimui 
 Idem Atque olli, $c., i. e. we the same sicken with diseases, c. Lambinus 
 reads morbis isdem. 
 
 5 Further, whatsoever bodies remain eternal, drc.J Ver. 353. 
 Twenty-three verses are here repeated from iii. 807, teg.
 
 B. v. 358384. LUCRETIUS. 207 
 
 lo 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 they 
 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, 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 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, since 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 
 now 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 
 
 1 Tlie 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 reiders to disturb themselves 
 by contriving how they shall live without 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 leav 
 posterity to shift, for themselves." Johnson, TSfer, No. 3.
 
 203 LUCRETIUS. B. v. 385-411 
 
 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- 
 stantly 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 bulk, 
 and seem to trust that they can dry up all things before the 
 waters can attain the completion of their design ;) maintain- 
 ing so great a war, they persist 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 of space; but afterwards its strength, being by 
 some 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, 1 
 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 2 established the heaven and the earthj 
 the depths of the sea, and the revolutions of the sun and moon 
 
 1 Once, too, water having risen-in-a-body, *rc.] Ver. 412. Humot 
 
 item quondam caepit superare coortus. Alluding to the flood of Deucalion. 
 
 * But how the combination of matter, $] Ver. 417. Sed
 
 B V. 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 now, from 
 time to time, the commencements of great productions, 1 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, flying 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 discerned 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 began 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 them, (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 such suitable motions among themselves, as should lead 
 to the objects which they were to effect; that is, to divide the 
 
 yuibus illemodis conjectus material, &c. " 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 rf Epicurus] 
 in his first book de Placitis Philosophorum." Lamjinus. 
 
 1 Become MOW, from time to time, the commencements of great 
 productions.] Ver. 431. Maguarum rerumfatnt exordia seepe. I have 
 rendered saepe "from time to time." Faber read nempe. 
 
 F
 
 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 stara 
 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 with another, met all to- 
 gether in the middle, and took, as it were, the lowest place ; ' 
 which atoms, the more closely they cohered, the more effectu- 
 ally they excluded from 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 ivhen the stagnant 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. 2 
 
 To this 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, 3 and are a part of the entire world. 
 
 1 Met all together in the middle, and took, as it were, the lowest 
 place.] Ver. 452. Coibant In media atgite imas capiebant omnia sedes. 
 
 Met and sunk down in the middle, which is the lowest place." 
 Lambintis. 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 formation of the world, omits all allusion to a 
 centre from which that formation commenced. 
 
 2 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. 479-509. LUCRETIUS. 211 
 
 As, in our own bodies, some members may remain at rest, 
 whilst others are still in motion. 
 
 These 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 thus acted upon, it might collect in con- 
 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 from 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 lower 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, 1 which moves with a settled flux, pre- 
 serving one unvaried direction in its course. 
 
 1 The flood in the Euxine shows.] Ver. 508. Significat Ponto 
 mare. Mare Ponto, for mare Ponti, says Wakefield ; for in Ponto, 
 says Forbiger. " That the ether may glide perpetually onwards, he 
 seeks to prove from the constant flow of the .Pontus Euxinus into 
 the Thracian Bosphorus, the Propontis, and the Hellespont, with- 
 out any reflux." Faber. Wakefield aptly cites Seneca, Nat. Quaest. 
 iv. 2. " The Pontus flows rapidly and constantly into the sea below: 
 not, like other seas, with tides alternating in opposite directions, 
 but with a current always running strongly in the same course." 
 
 i 2
 
 212 LtrJRETIUS. 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 direction in which the bright stars of 
 the eternal world roll ; l and that there is still other air beneath 
 ourfeet, 2 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 sky, 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 3 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 difficult to lay down as certain ; but I demonstrate only what 
 is possible, and may be effected, throughout the universe, in 
 various worlds, formed in various ways, 4 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 
 
 1 In which the bright stars of the eternal world roll.] Ver. 515. 
 Quo volvunda micant aterni sidera mundi. He uses the word eternal as 
 a poet, not as a philosopher. 
 
 2 Beneath our feet.] Ver. 516. Subter. " Sub terr&, et sub pedibiu 
 nostris." Lambimis. See below, ver. 636, seq. 
 
 3 Whither the sustenance of each attracts, #e.] Ver. 525. Quo 
 cujusque cibus vocat atque 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. cle 
 Nat. Deor. lib. ii. Virg. /En. i. 612, Polus dum sidera pascet. " Lam~ 
 binus, ad i. 232. " This was a notion, not only of Epicurus, but of the 
 Stoics. See Plutarch de Placit. Philosoph. And you will find in- 
 dications of this opinion even before the age of Zeno." Faber, ibid. 
 
 * In various worlds, formed in various ways.] Ver. 529. In variii 
 mundis, varia ratione creatis. That there are more worlds than ours, 
 he shows to be probable, ii. 1052 S **g.
 
 B. v. 534 554. LUCRETIUS. 213 
 
 by no means the part of a man proceeding, like myself, cau- 
 tiously, and step by step. 
 
 And that the earth may rest in the middle 1 part of the 
 world, it is necessary that its weight should gradually, as it 
 were, become evanescent and imperceptible, 2 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 all depresses it ; 
 just as his limbs are no burden to a man ; undjust 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 annoy us, although, 
 they are often far less than those which are within us; of so great 
 importance it is to understand what one thing can effect by 
 union with another. The earth, accordingly, was not brought 
 into ttiis world suddenly, as a foreign body, and cast, from some 
 other quarter, upon air that ivas strange to it, 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 be 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 
 
 1 And that the earth may rest in the middle, 8$c.~] Ver. 535. 
 Terraque ut in media, mnndi regione quiescat, &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 re-sts upon it as if all its gravity were laid aside. Bat 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 congeneous, and bound by a common 
 law of connexion. Epicurus, in his Epistle to Herodotus, says, riji/ 
 fi)v T(l> "Atpt tiroxilffSai af ffvyyfvJ}." Creech. 
 
 2 Become evanescent and imperceptible.] Ver- 530- Evanescere 
 tt dfcrescere.
 
 214 LUCRETIUS . v. 655-581 
 
 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 from 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, 1 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 shy, 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 2 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 
 
 1 Nor can the circumference of the sun be much greater, or its 
 fire less, <5fc.] Ver. 567. Aee nimio soils 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. 
 
 1 She is of no larger a dimension, Jrc.l Ver. 578. Nihilofertur 
 
 majore figura, Quant nostris oculis, qua cernimus, esse videtur. The or- 
 der and construction, says Wakefield, is this ;' " Fertur figura nihilo 
 majore, quam ea Jigura, qua earn cernimus Jigurd, videtur esse nos- 
 tns oculis."
 
 v. 531-611. LUC'llKTIUS. 215 
 
 whenever its outmost edges ' are observed,) must hence appear 
 to us in the sky just as large as it is. 2 
 
 Further, whatsoever stars in the heavens you view from 
 hence, can, assuredly, be only very little less, or only very little 
 larger, 3 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 ; 4 because the atoms of heat, we may suppose, 
 so meet together here from all parts of the world, and their 
 assemblage forms such a flood, that all 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 very great fire in the sun, if, perchance, 
 the air be so tempered and disposed as to be excited to warmth, 
 though affected 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 
 
 1 As it does whenever its outmost edges, <S,c.] Ver. 583. Ut est oris 
 extremis quomque notata i. e. whenever it is noted as to its outmost 
 edges. 
 
 2 Just as large as it is.] Ver. 584. Quantaque quanta est, hinc nobit 
 videattir, in alto. There are various readings of this passage. The 
 present, which is Eichstadt's, cannot, though adopted by Forbiger, 
 and even Lachmann, be right ; for what is the use of the que f Lam- 
 binus reads, Quanta quoque tuec fuvat, tanta hinc videatur in alto. Fu- 
 vat for sit or fuerit ; which Preigerus approves. 
 
 1 Only very little larger.] Ver. 591. Exigua majorcs parte brevique. 
 4 Scatter its radiance abroad.] Ver. 597. Erumpere lumtn. " Erum- 
 perc," 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 summer 
 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 phenomena. 
 
 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, 1 is 
 gradually left behind, because it is much beneath the fiery 
 signs ; 2 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 3 from opposite quarters of the 
 world ; of which currents one may be that which drives the sun 
 
 1 With the lower constellations following it.~\ Ver. 626. Cum pos* 
 terioribus signis. " Cum signis sequentibus." Creech. 
 
 * Fiery signs.] Ver. 627. Fervida 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 currents of air, may blow in turns, tfc.~\ Ver. 636. Aer 
 Alternis certo fliiere alter tempore possit. Aer alter for duo or bini aire. 
 " Duos acres lunae solique inservientes introducit." Creech, ad 
 rer. 613.
 
 B. v. 639668. LUCRETIUS. 217 
 
 from the summer signs into the winter part of his course, and 
 into freezing cold ; and the other may be that 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 tiuo 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 1 covers the earth with its great 
 darkness, is either because the light grows weak when the sun, 
 after his long course, has reached the extremity of the heaven, 
 and has sent forth his fires languidly, as being exhausted with 
 the journey, 2 and wasted by passing through a long 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 confluence, which cause a new light of the sun to be per- 
 petually produced. Thus it is said, that from the lofty hills 
 of Ida 3 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 phenomena, 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 
 
 1 But the reason why night, 8fc.~\ Ver. 649. He now begins to ex- 
 plain the causes of day and night. 
 
 2 Exhausted with the journey.] Ver. 652. Concussos Here. 
 
 3 Thus from the lofty hills of Ida, Sgc.} Ver. 662. Quod genus Ida>i 
 fama est e montibus, Sfc. This phenomenon is mentioned by Diod. 
 Sic. xvii. 7, and by Pomponius Mela, de Situ Orbis, v. 6. It was 
 probably some atmospheric illusion. Quod genus is for quemadmodun, 
 as in several other places.
 
 218 LUCRETIUS, B v. 669702. 
 
 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, a? 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 with 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 1 makes the darkness of 
 night equal to the light of day : (for the heaven has two sepa- 
 rate points, at equal distances, where the courses of the north 
 wind and the south meet ; 2 owing to the position of the whole 
 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 arrd emerge to the dawn ; for which 
 reason the nights in the winter delay long, until the bright 
 herald of day 3 returns : or, again, because, at alternate seasons 
 of the year, the atoms of flame, which cause the sun to rise 4 in 
 
 1 Node of the year.] Ver. 687. Nodus anni. " He means the 
 equinoxes." Faber. 
 
 2 Where the courses meet.] Ver. 688. Media cursu Jlatiis Aquilonis. 
 et Aiistri. 
 
 1 Herald of day.] Ver. 699. Insigne diei. " The sun." Faber. 
 
 * Cause the sun to rise, #e.] Ver. 702. Faciunt salem certa desur- 
 fffre parte. Or, as Lambinus and others have it, certii de surgere. I 
 wonder that none of the critics have suspected Lucretius to have 
 wvitten/w/yere 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 side, along the circle of 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 ; [and hence 
 it happens that they seem to say what is true.] 1 
 
 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 2 together with her, and which in every way ob- 
 structs and hinders her light, but nevertheless cannot be seen, 
 as it passes along in total darkness. 
 
 And the moon may possibly revolve upon her axis, like a 
 ball 3 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 ; 4 then, by degrees, 
 she turns away and removes from us the brilliant side of her 
 orb; 5 as, indeed, the Babylonish doctrine of the Chaldaeans 
 taught, which, refuting the method of the Greek astrologers, 
 
 1 And hence it happens that they seem to say what is true.] 
 Ver. 713. Protereafit uti videantur dicere ventm. This verse, which is 
 regarded by Forbiger as suspicious, and enclosed in brackets, might 
 very well be spared. 
 
 2 Another body, which moves and advances, $] 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. 
 
 3 And the moon may revolve like a ball.] Ver. 719. This was 
 the doctrine of Berosus, as is observed by Vitruvius, ix. 4. 
 
 4 So as to behold us with full aspect and open eye.] Ver. 723. 
 Ad speciem nobis oculosque patentes. This is translated according to 
 Wakefield's interpretation, who says that previous commentators 
 had thought that the face and eyes of the spectator were meant. 
 
 s Of her orb.] Ver. 725. Glomeraminis atque pilai. As both words 
 have the same meaning, 1 have thought it sufficient to translate one.
 
 220 LUCRETIUS. B. T. 728753. 
 
 labours to support this hypothesis in opposition to it; just as if 
 that, for which eacli contends, might not be true, 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 diurnally 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 ; l 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 his 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. 2 
 you must suppose that they may arise from various causes. 
 For, (as you 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, 3 (obtending her dark orb to 
 
 1 Etesian breezes of the northern winds.] Ver. 741. Etesia fabra 
 Aquilonum. Etesian winds mean yearly winds ; but the term was often 
 applied by the Greeks to the north winds, which were said to blow 
 annually at the rising of the dog-star. See the commentators on 
 Demosthenes, Phil. i. 11. 
 
 1 Occultations of the moon.] Ver. 750. Lunceque latebras. Latebras 
 signifies obscurations or eclipses, as Creech rightly interprets. " He 
 now begins to speak of the eclipses of the sun and moon : and first 
 of those of the sun." Lambimis. 
 
 * And to oppose her high head to it on the side of the earth.] 
 Ver. 753. Et c, terris altum caput obstruere ei. " Objicere corpus 
 g'.ium supra terras elatum," says Creech ; but a terris surely means 
 yn the side of the earth. With ei Lambinus and Creech understand 
 tuli; I prefer lumini.
 
 B. y. 754777. L.UCRBTTTT8. 221 
 
 the sun's glowing rays,'/ and not some other body, l 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, 2 in its turn, to de- 
 prive the moon of light, and, passing itself above, to keep the 
 sun shut out 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 bener.th 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 ? 
 
 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, 3 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 witk 
 
 1 Some other body devoid of light] Ver. 755. Aliud corpus 
 
 cassum lumine. Compare what he says in reference to the phases o/ 
 the moon, ver. 716, se/j. Comp. also ver. 764 766. 
 
 2 And why should the earth have power, $e.] Ver. 761. 
 
 Et 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, says Lambinus, is meant 
 " the extreme part of the earth's shadow ; though some by the cone 
 understand the earth itself; which Aristotle (Mtrttip. lib. ii.) affirms 
 to be shaped like a drum, and says that lines drawn from its centre 
 form two cones." Creech interprets, "rigidam terrse 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.
 
 LUCRETIUS. B. v. 778 &04 
 
 shining light,) I now return to the early age of the world, and 
 the tender fields of earth, to consider what kind of productions 
 they first ventured, 1 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. 2 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, 8 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, 4 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 5 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- 
 
 1 Ventured.] Ver. 780. Creduint. '. " Creduint for crediderint, \. e. 
 confisa, ausafuerint arva." Forbiger. Sed alii aliter. 
 
 * Full power of shooting upwards through the air.] Ver. 785. 
 Crescwidi magnum immissis certamen habenis. Virg. Georg. ii. 363. 
 
 Dum se laetus ad auras 
 Palmes agit, laxis per purum immissus habenis. 
 
 * Numerous races of animals.] Ver. 789. Mortalia corda multa. 
 Al. tcecla. 
 
 Fallen from the sky, 3-c.] Ver. 791. See ii. 11541157. 
 s Thin coats.] Ver. 801. Folliculos tersUs. Comp. iv. 56 " Ro- 
 tundas gracilesque tunicas." Creech.
 
 B. v. 805837- LUCRETIUS. 223 
 
 ed through the plains, and hence, where any suitable region 
 offered itself, a kind of wombs sprung up. 1 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. Thus 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, sinc 
 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. 2 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, 
 
 1 Wombs sprung up, <Sfc.] Ver. 806. Crescebant uteri terra radicibus 
 apti. This is mentioned as an opinion of some philosophers by 
 Diod. Sic. i. 7, and as an opinion of Epicurus by Censorinus, p. 1 1, 9. 
 
 2 Bursts forth from contempt.] Ver. 831. E contemtibus exit. He 
 repeats the same expression in ver. 1278.
 
 224 LUCRETIUS. . T. 338- 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 j 
 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. 
 Artd there are many which, from their usefulness to mankind, 
 remain, as it were, intrusted to us, and committed to our 
 guardianship. 
 
 In the first place, courage has protected the fierce brood of 
 lion*, 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, 1 and the woolly flocks, 
 too, and horned cattle, all these, my dear Memmius, 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 
 
 1 And all the various species of horses.] Ver. 863. Et gentts 
 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 >r drawing. Quasi veheterinus, from veho. Comp. ver. 888-
 
 a T. 869897. 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, 1 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. Afterwards, when, in old age, his 
 lusty vigour and stout limbs are failing the horse, (growing tor- 
 pid as life is departing,) behold, at that very period, the young 
 man's age being in its flower, youth prevails in him, 2 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; 3 or that there can 
 be Scyllas, 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 4 together in old age ; and which are neither 
 excited by the same objects of affection, nor agree with the 
 same tempers, nor find that the same kinds of food are nu- 
 tritious to their bodies. 5 For you may observe that bearded 
 
 1 With however dull an understanding.] Ver. 880. Quamvis he~ 
 beti corde. 
 
 2 Youth prevails in him.] Ver. 887. JuventasOJjicit. " Intervenit." 
 Wakefield. Al. Occipit. 
 
 3 Servile seed of a horse.] Ver. 888. Veterino semine equorum 
 Comp. ver. 863. 
 
 4 Lose their strength.] Ver. 894. Perficiunt. '' That is, bring 
 ( their strength) to an end." Wakefield. 
 
 * Nutritious to their bodies.] Ver. 896. Joconda per artus. 
 from juvo, to help or sustain. 
 
 Q
 
 226 LUCRETIUS. B. v. 898931. 
 
 goats often grow fat on hemlock, which to men is rank 
 poison. 
 
 Since, too, the flame of fire is accustomed to scorch and 
 burn 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 Chimaera, one animal compounded of three 
 bodies, the fore part a lion, the hinder a dragon, the middle a 
 goat, 1 could blow abroad at its mouth a fierce flame 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 procf 
 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 race 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 manm-r 
 of wild beasts. No one was either a driver of the crooked 
 
 ' The middle a goat.] Ver. 903. Media ipsa. Chimera (\ifiaipa) 
 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, 1 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, 2 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 
 
 1 Whortle-berries.] Ver. 939. Arbuta. Good translates this, " The 
 wild wood-whortle," observing that commentators have uniformly 
 understood that " the 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 " Vitit Idtea, the common whortle or cran- 
 berry," which " has an agreeable sub-acid flavour 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." 
 
 2 Flowing rills of water.] Ver. 948. Humore Jfventa Lubrica. 
 " Id est, flnenta humida et hquida." Lambinus. The words Humida 
 scuca, "humid rocks," are elegantly repeated in the original, but 
 could not be repeated to any purpose in a prose translation. 
 
 3 2
 
 228 LUCRETIUS. K. 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 only 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, 1 
 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, 
 while a few escaped them in their dens ; and, when surprised 
 by night, they threw their savage limbs, like bristly boar.*, 
 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 2 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 fled 
 from their rocky shelter, and yielded up with trembling, at the 
 dead of night, their couches of leaves to the savage intruders. 
 
 Nor yet did the race of men, in those days, leave with la- 
 mentations the sweet light of life in much greater numbers 
 
 1 Choice crabs.] Ver. 963. Pira 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 quince." He therefore translates pita 
 *' crabs," and I have followed him. 
 
 Nor did they seek to recall the day, $c.] 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, 
 wok i. 6, teq.
 
 B. v. 988- -1007. LUCRETIUS. 229 
 
 than at present. For though more frequently 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 2 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, 3 and laid aside its empty 
 threats without effect ; 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 
 
 1 As he felt his bowels buried in a living tomb.] Ver. 991. Viva 
 videns vivo sepeliri viscera busto. Gorgias the rhetorician is censured 
 by Longinus (Sect. 3) for calling vultures ip-^vxai rcufioi, but Lu- 
 cretius, says Faber, being a poet, 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. 
 
 2 Cruel tortures.] Ver. 995. Vermina steva. " Vermina 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 arpofbc." Festitt. 
 " Vermina sunt tormina, unde verminari, pati tormina." Vossius 
 De Anal. i. p. 150. Creech interprets vermina simply vermes, and 
 Good gives " vile worms," which may, indeed, be the right sense. 
 
 3 But the ocean, though often rising and swelling, 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 it stands 
 thus : Nee temere incassum frustra mare seepe coortum scevibat. He 
 attempts to make sense of it by referring the conjunction nee "not 
 only, to the verb stevibat, but to all the sentence, as if Lucretius had 
 said, nee scepe temere mare cdoriebatur et seevibat." But whom will this 
 satisfy? Wakefield supplies in naves from the preceding verse, as 
 if Lucretius would have said that the ocean did irt c/wn rage
 
 230 LUCRETIUS. B. v. .005 lu:0. 
 
 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 with him; and when the pure and pleasing con- 
 nexions of undivided love were known, and they saw a pro- 
 geny sprung from themselves ; then first the human race 
 be^an 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. 
 Even 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 anj: one man ' then assigned names 
 
 against ships when there were no ships. Try what mode of explan- 
 ation you please, "nee," as Lachmann says, "perverts the sense." 
 Lambinus reads sed, 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. 
 
 1 To suppose, therefore, that any one man, to.] Ver. 1040. Proindt
 
 B. v. 10111070. 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 of them 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 
 feelings ; when dumb cattle, and even the tribes of wild beasts, 
 are wont to utter different and distinct cries when terror or 
 pair, 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 lonely buildings, or when, 
 
 putare aliquem turn nomina distributee, &c. " This is directed against 
 Pythagoras, to whom it seemed 10 have been the office of the high- 
 est wisdom to give names to all tilings ; and against Plato, who, in 
 his Cratylus, says that names were given to things, not by chance, 
 but by regular plan and contrivance ; and that he who first invented 
 the names was called 6vofiaTovpy6g, and 6j>o/iaro0erjjc." Lambinut. 
 
 1 Violent fury.] Ver. 1064. Rabies districta. Fury drawn like a 
 word, as Wakefield interprets it ; equivalent to rabioti dentet du-
 
 232 LUCRETIUS. B. v. 10711091 
 
 with crouching body, they slink whimpering from beneath a 
 blow. 
 
 Again, does not the volte of the horse seem also to differ, 
 when, as a vigorous steed in the flower of his age, and 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 ? l 
 
 Further, the winged tribes, and various birds, hawks, and 
 eagles, 2 and gulls, which, amid the waves of the sea, seek their 
 food and living in the salt water, 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 point, and be 
 anxious to know the origin ofjire, I will inform you that light- 
 ning first brought flame down upon the earth for mortals, and 
 
 1 Thus neighs in quite other tones.] Ver. 1075, 1076. 
 Et fremitum patulis sub naribus edit ad arma, 
 Et quom sic alias, concussis artibus, hinnit ? 
 
 This is Forbiger's reading. Wakefield injudiciously transposed the 
 two verses. Lambinus (whom Creech follows) reads Et quom sis, 
 for *MM, justly observing that the sic is " idle and unmeaning." He 
 also asks the question, " Quaenam arma ? Martiane, an Venerea ? " 
 but does not decide for either ; Lachmann understands the latter. 
 Creech paraphrases tbe lines thus : " vel cum in pugnam initurus 
 fe patulis naribus hinnitum edit, et cum alias propter causas artibus 
 concussis hinnit;" understanding, apparently, the first verse de ar~ 
 mit Martiis, and the second de armis Venereis. I have referred them 
 both to tbe anr.s c f Mars, believing that Virgil had this passage in 
 his mind when he wrote the vigorous lines, 
 
 Stare loco nencit, micat auribus, et tremit artus, &c. 
 
 * Eagles.] Ver. 1078. Ouifraga. "A kind of eagle; see Pliny, 
 X. 2." Lambitiut.
 
 B. v. 10921121. LUCRETIUS. 233 
 
 that from thence all the fire in the world 1 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, 2 struck by the winds, is shaken and agitated, 
 moving to and fro, and pressing against the boughs of another 
 tree, fire, excited by the violent friction, is elicited ; 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, 3 and former mode of 
 life, for new practices and improvements by means of fire. 
 
 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 in- 
 dividual ; for beauty was then 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 
 
 1 All the fire in the world. ] Ver. 1092. Omnis flammarum ardor. 
 
 * When a branching tree, $c.] Ver. 1095. See i. 896. 
 
 3 Every day more and more to change their rude diet.] Ver. 
 ]10t. Inque dies magis invictum commutare. Invictus is a word intro- 
 duced from three AlSS. by Forbiger, in the sense of /3ioc d/3ioc. Lam- 
 binus and Wakefield read in victim ; and Wakefield explains com- 
 mutare in victum to be the same as commutare victum, or mutaticnet 
 importare in victum. But Creech adopted hi victum, from a conjec- 
 ture of Naugerius, which Lachmann has retained, lu Forbiger there 
 is a misprint of Inde for Inque.
 
 234 LUCRETIUS. B v. 112211-50, 
 
 strong, might pass an undisturbed life. But this they desired 
 in vain; for, as they strove to reach the hignest 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 as into the gloom of Tartarus ; so that it is far 
 better to obey in quiet, than to seek to hold states under our 
 sway, and to manage kingdoms. Let men, therefore, if they 
 will, sweat out their life's blood, 1 wearying themselves to no 
 purpose, and struggling along the narrow road of ambition ; 
 (for the highest objects, and whatever are more exposed on 
 eminences, 2 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, 3 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 
 I a government, and made laws^/br them, that they might consent 
 1 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, 
 
 1 Sweat out their life's blood.] Ver. 1128. Sanguine sudent. I am 
 indebted to Good for the translation of those words. 
 
 2 Whatever are more exposed on eminences.] Ver. 1131. Qua 
 tunt altis magis edita quomque. " Exposed on high places, or promi- 
 nent." Wakefield. 
 
 * Kings, therefore, Ac.] Ver. 1135. Ergo rcgibiis oecisis. The eryo, 
 therefore, refers to what is said, in the preceding paragraph, about 
 the lofty being humbled ; unless, indeed, some lines have been lost.
 
 B. v. 1151-1176. 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 their 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 earth, 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 may seem, 
 to explain. 1 
 
 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, 2 and saw them, in their sleep, still 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, 3 as they would consider that 
 
 1 To explain.] Ver. 1167- Rationem reddere verbis. 
 
 2 Glorious images as of gods.] Ver. 1168. Div&m egregias 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 tne 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. 
 
 3 Although they might certainly have deemed them immortal on another 
 account.'] Ver. 1176. Et tamen omnino. The words supplied are
 
 236 LUCHETIUS. B. v. 11771207 
 
 beings, endowed with such 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, as it seemed, 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 certain 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 1 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 2 of night, and the nocturnal luminaries 
 of the heavens, and the flying meteors, as 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, with 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 stars, 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 intelligible. 
 
 1 Abodes.] Ver. 1187. Templa. " Domos." Creech. 
 
 * August constellations.] Ver. 1189. Signa severa. " Veneranda, 
 dia, sacra." Lambinus.
 
 B. v. 12081240. LUCRETIUS. 237 
 
 apprehension which, perhaps, before lay dormant under th( 
 weight of other cares. Since poverty of reason, and ignor- 
 ance of natural causes, disquiet the mind, while it doubt' 
 whether there was any birth or commencement of the world, 
 or whether there is any limit of time, until which the walls 
 of the world, 1 and the silent movements of the heavenly bodies, 
 can endure this incessant labour ; or whether the heavens, di- 
 vinely endowed with an imperishable nature, can, as they roll 
 along time's 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 ichen the roars of thunder pervade the vast heaven ? Do 
 not people and nations tremble ? And do not proud monarchs, 
 penetrated with fear of the deities, recoil in every nerve, lest, 
 for some foul deed, or arrogant word, the dread time of pay- 
 ing penalty be come ? 
 
 When, likewise, the mighty force of a tempestuous wind, 
 raging over the sea, sweeps athwart the deep the commander 
 of a fleet with all his powerful legions and elephants, 2 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, 3 and iron were discovered, as 
 
 1 Walls of the world.] Ver. 1212. Mcenia 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. 
 
 :i Moreover, brass, and gold, ffc.~\ Ver. 1240. Quod superest as aty* 
 turum, &c. He now proceeds to tell how metals were discoveio/(-
 
 23b LUCRETIUS. B. v. 12411272. 
 
 well as heavy silver, and the substance of lead, 1 at a time when 
 fire had consumed mighty forests upon the high mountains, 
 either from lightning having been hurled upon them, or because 
 men, 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 men surrounded the forest with nets, 
 or roused the animals 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 tlier. 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. ; Athenzeus 
 yi. 4, sub fin. ^ Strabo, lib. iii. p. 14-7; Diodorus Siculus, Ant. lib. 
 iv., haud longt ab init. JEs I have rendered brass, (not copper, as 
 Good translates it,) for Servius, (ad Mn. xii. 87,) alluding to this 
 very passage of Lucretius, makes it equivalent to orichalcum, which 
 is generally understood to be brass. 
 
 1 Substance of lead.] Ver. 1241. Plumbi potestas. The same as 
 plumbi vis, or plumbum ipsum.
 
 B- v 12731302. LUCRETIUS. 239 
 
 neglected on account of its uselssness, as taking only a 
 dull edge and blunt point ; now brass is despised, and gold 
 has 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 ; l something which 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 use 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 fire were used, 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 that 
 of iron ; inasmuch as its substance is more easy to work, and 
 its abundance greater. 2 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 Jight, 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, 3 with towers on their backs, and with snake- 
 like proboscis, to endure the wounds of war, and to throw vast 
 
 1 Bursts forth from contempt.] Ver. 1277. See ver. 831. 
 
 * Its abundance greater.] Ver. 1283. Copia major. Viz. in those 
 early times. 
 
 XaXiwjJ fipyao>ro, /isXa; ' OVK toft aiSripof. Hes. Op. et D. 150. 
 
 1 Elephants.] Ver. 1301. Boves Lucas. Elephants were so called 
 by the Romans because they first saw them in Lucania, in the war 
 with Pyrrhus. Plin. H. N. via. C, 6. With snake-like proboscis.] 
 Atiguimanos. See ii. 538.
 
 240 LUCRETIUS. B. v. 1303-134-5 
 
 martial battalions into confusion. Thus sad discord produced 
 one invention after another, to spread terror in battle among 
 the tribes of men, and added daily 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 govern them and hold them in chains, 
 But such attempts were in vain ; for the savage beasts, heated 
 with tumultuous slaughter, and shaking their terrible manes 
 on every side, disordered all 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, yet 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 fo think that they could not 
 originally foresee, and consider in their minds, how genera] 
 and calamitous an evil such warfare would prove to succeeding
 
 B. T. 1346-1375. LUCRETIUS. 241 
 
 times. But they were willing to adopt 1 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, ard were 
 ready to perish themselves, if they might but 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 a* 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 with 
 the tillers of the ground, and strengthen their limbs and hands 
 with severe toil. 
 
 But of sowing and planting, 2 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 diiferent 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, 
 
 1 But they were willing to adopt, &.] Ver. 1346. Three verses 
 which precede this, and which are evidently spurious or misplaced. 
 I have omitted in the translation. Lachmann has ejected there 
 from his text. 
 
 2 But of sowing and planting.] Ver. 1360. At sationis Satif 
 means both sowing and planting. Grafting may be considered of 
 more recent date than Lucretius makes it.
 
 242 LUCRETIUS. B. v. 13761403. 
 
 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 with 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, 2 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 
 
 1 But to imitate voices of birds, $c.] Ver. 1378. He says that 
 the idea of music was taken from the singing of birds, and that of 
 wind instruments from the whistling of the wind among reeds. 
 
 1 Divine resting-places.] Ver. 1386. Otiadia. 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 sub 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 abundantes, as if he took diva 
 for abundant, numerous. But this acceptation I should be unwilling 
 to adopt.
 
 B v. 14041432. LUCRETIUS. 243 
 
 to produce various modulations of voice, and to weave tunes, and 
 to run over the reeds with compressed lips, were compensations 
 for icant 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 their 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 dress, fell into contempt ; a dress of which I can 
 imagine the discovery to have excited such envy, 2 that he who 
 first wore it, possibly died from a treacherous-combination 
 against him ; and that his garment, being torn, with much 
 bloodshed, among those who 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, 
 when 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 its 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 
 
 1 Wakeful in nocturnal orgies, have received and maintain the 
 same practices.] Ver. 1407- Unde etiam vigiles nunc htec accepta 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. 
 
 2 The discovery to have excited such envy.] Ver. 1418. Intidia 
 tali repertam. 
 
 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. 
 
 They 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. 1 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, laws, 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, 2 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. 
 
 1 For the sake of perfumes.] Ver. 1441. Turn mare velivolis (na- 
 vibus sc.) florebat propter adores. This is the reading of Wake- 
 field and his followers, as if trading voyages were made for nothing 
 but perfumes. Lambinus, and his clients, read Turn mare velirolum 
 florebat navibu' pandis. Lachmann corrects, from conjecture, Turn 
 mare velivolis florebat puppibus, et res, $c. 
 
 I < Improving use.] Ver. 1450. Politic wsiw. " Polibus usus is that 
 which either has polish or produces it." Wakefatd.
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 LUCRBTIUS commences with a panegyric o~ Athens, 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 should be terrified at 
 thunder, as proceeding from Jupiter, asserts that it arises entirely from 
 natural causes, ver. 43 85. 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. 219322. 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 phaenomena, ver. 495535. Of earthquakes, ver. 536 607. 
 Of the sea, and why it grows no larger, ver. 608 639. Of the fires of 
 2Etna, ver. 640712. Of the Nile, and its exundations, ver. 713738. 
 Of the lake Avernus, and the neighbouring region, with remarks on other 
 matters, ver. 739840. Of the temperature of water in wells, and of cer- 
 tain remarkable springs, ver. 841906. 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. 9071088. Of the origin and cause of diseases, ver. 10891136 ; 
 with a full description of the plague that depopulated Athens during 
 the Peloponnesian war ver. 1137 1285.
 
 246 LUCRETIUS. B. TI. 1 Si 
 
 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 instruction on all sub- 
 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, 1 are already prepared for them by 
 nature, yet saw that men may abound in wealth, may be 
 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 every 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, 2 and proved that mankind re- 
 
 1 Render life free from care.] Ver. 11. Vitam consistere tutam. 
 " Consistere is used in an extraordinary sense, for constituere et red- 
 dere." Turneb. Advers. ii. 12, cited by Havercamp. 
 
 2 From what portals each ought to be met.] Ver. 32. Qiribus I 
 portis occitrri quoiqiie 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 enemy." Lambinus
 
 B. vi. 33-30 LUCRETIUS. 247 
 
 volve in their breasts, for the most part unnecessarily, the 
 sorrowful tumults of care. For as children tremble, 1 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, 2 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 3 to occur in the 
 
 1 For as children tremble, e.] Ver. 35. See ii. 55 , iii. 87. 
 
 2 Since to ascend his stately chariot, <e.] Ver. 47. 
 
 Quandoquidem semel insignem conscendere currum 
 Vectorem exhortant plaudendo, ut obvia cursu 
 Quee 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, 
 
 Quandoquidem semel hmgnem conscendere currum 
 Vincendi apes hortata est, atque obvia cursu 
 Qua; fuerant, sunt placato conversa furore. 
 
 That is, " Since the hope of victory lias once prompted me to mount 
 my stately chariot, ana since all things which had been opposed to 
 my course, are now altered, all 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 phanomeim, which men observe, &,c.~\ Ver. 50. Cetera,
 
 248 LUCRETIUS. B vi. 51-78. 
 
 earth and the heavens, when, as often happens, they are per- 
 plexed with fearful thoughts, overawe their minds with a 
 dread 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 effects they can by no 
 means see the origin, and accordingly 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 our 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, 1 and cease to har- 
 bour notions inconsistent with their tranquillity, the sacred 
 power of the divinities will often, as being offended by you, 2 
 obstruct your peace ; 3 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 
 
 quee fieri in terris casloque tuentur mortales. Creech interprets cetera 
 by reliqua; I take it as a conjunction, the same as cceterum. 
 
 1 Put far from you unworthy thoughts of the gods.] Ver. 68. 
 Longeque remitiis dls indigna putare. " Remittis TO putare." Wake- 
 field. 
 
 2 Sacred power of the divinities offended by you.] Ver. 70. 
 
 Delibata per 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, contaminata, diminuta, violata, which I have adopted. 
 Turnebus adduces from the Auctor ad Herenn. Delibans insitam 
 virtutem; to which Havercamp adds from Corn. Nepos, (Dat. 6,) ne 
 animi delibarentur militum, where the common editions read debili- 
 tarentur. 
 
 1 Will obstruct your peace.] Ver. 71. Tibioberunt. " That : is, 
 will be before your eyes, and, as if threatening you, will exhibit 
 terrible faces from the regions of heaven." Wakefield. Comp. i. 65.
 
 . vi. 7496. LUCRETIUS. 249 
 
 you might be calm in tranquil peace, will suppose that the 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, 1 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, 2 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, 3 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, 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, 4 that, under thy guidance, I may at- 
 tain a crown with distinguished applause. 
 
 In the first place, the blue skies are convulsed with thun- 
 
 1 Images from the sacred persons of the gods.] Ver. 76. Corprrt 
 yiue sancto simulacra feruntur. He here speaks of the gods, not as 
 creatures of the imagination, but as having a certain existence. 
 
 2 Nature of things above us.] Ver. 83. Ratio superfim. " Supera 
 id est, TO. ptTttapa, intelligendum esse puto." Faber. With whom 
 Wakefield concurs. 
 
 3 Having foolishly divided the heaven into parts.] Ver. 86. 
 "This refers to the practice of the augurs and Etrurians, of which 
 Cicero speaks in his second book De Divinatione, observing that the 
 Etrurians divided the heaven into sixteen parts, &c." Lambinut. 
 
 4 To the white goal at the end of the course.] Ver. 92. Prascripta 
 ad Candida callis. " Candida callis, as vera and ardua via'i, strata vi. 
 arwn, and a hundred other similar phrases in Lucretius and other 
 authors. Lambinus has aptly quoted Seneca, Epist. cviii., hant 
 fuam nunc in Circo cretam vocamus, calcem antiqui vocabant; viz. be- 
 cause tne goal was covered over with chalk or Jime."
 
 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 97125. 
 
 der, because the clouds in the air, as they fly along on high, 
 when winds are opposed to each other, meet together incollision, 
 For in a clear part f the sky no noise takes place. But the 
 more densely the clouds are collected, in any quarter whatso- 
 ever, with so 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, 1 by 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 of crackling 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 kind 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 walla 
 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 
 
 1 Clouds also produce a sound, <Sre.] Ver. 108. Dantetiam sonitnm, 
 &c. Lucretius, and those of his school, had certainly extravagant 
 notions respecting clouds. In this passage he expresses his opinion 
 that a cloud may make a noise like canvass flapping or splitting, 
 and, a little below, (ver. 150, *<??.,) 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. 49&, *eq.
 
 B. TI. 126 1/53. 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 loud sound of a similar kind. 
 
 There is also another reason why the winds, when they 
 blow among the clouds, 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 more dry than ordinary, re- 
 ceives the lightning, it is at 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 among its boughs, than the Delphic laurel of Phrebus. 
 
 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.
 
 2o2 LUCRETIUS. u. TV. 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 the sound of the thun- 
 der some time after we perceive it lighten, 1 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 ot 
 lead, from being whirled 2 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 
 out 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 3 strike 
 
 1 But we hear the sound of the thunder some time after we perceive 
 it lighten, %c.] Ver. 164. "The flash of lightning succeeds the noise 
 of the thunder, but is perceived 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. Glans etiam longo cursu volvunda 
 liquescit. " Volvunda, volubilis, vel dum volvitur." Lambinus. 
 
 * Reams which come to our eyes.] Ver. 184. Qu&. 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. Lamhinusread qua: perveniunt oculot 
 ad lumina nostros, i. e. " lumina quae ad nostros oculos perveniunt." 
 But oculorum lumina is much to be preferred.
 
 B. vi. 185218. 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. 1 
 
 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 th en it lightens without any 
 great terror, or sounds, or commotion. 
 
 1 With extraordinary effect.] Ver. 186. Impete miro. "That is, 
 mirdceleritate,ormiroimpetu." Lambinus. Creech would re&aaymine
 
 254 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 219-242. 
 
 Of what nature, moreover, 1 the lightning consists, its strokes, 
 and the signs and marks which are burnt 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 flame throughout houses themselves. For 
 nature has formed this attenuated fire, you may be sure, 2 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 ; 3 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 
 
 1 Moreover.] Ver. 219. Quod superest. " Proinde." Creech. 
 * For nature has formed this attenuated fire, you may be sure, $c.] 
 Ver. 225. 
 
 Hunc tibi subtilem cum primis ignibus ignem 
 
 Constituit natura minutis motibus atque 
 
 Corporibus 
 
 which must be construed, apparently, thus : Hunc subtilem ignem na- 
 tura constltuit (ex) ignibus cum-primis minutis, minutis being under- 
 stood also with motibus and corporibus. But the reading is, in truth, 
 absurd. Lambinus edited mobilibusque corporibus, which Lachmann 
 has had the good sense to replace. 
 
 3 All the earthen-substance of the vessel.] Ver. 232. Omnia late- 
 ramina vasi. Wakefield takes lateramina 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, i. e. facere ex lateribus," and so may signify "any thing 
 made of tiles; lateramina vasis, Lucret.vi. 232, probably eartJtemyare." 
 Forbiger justly observes that it is a iiirat, Xiyoptvov.
 
 B. vi. 243274. 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. 1 
 
 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 the sun. 2 Thus, when the same wind, which has collected 
 the clouds by chance into any one place, has elicited from them 
 
 1 Delay you longer with promises.] Ver. 245. Neque ie in pra- 
 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 softs radiis ardoreque
 
 25G LUCRETIUS, B. vi. 276- -2M 
 
 many atoms of heat, and with that heat has mingled itselfc 
 the vortex of icind, compressed within the cloud, wliirls 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, 1 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. 3 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, 4 the vehement force of the wind falls upon 
 a dense cloud externally, striking on its summit just ripe for 
 explosion ; 5 and, when it has burst through it, there flies out 
 instantly the fiery vortex 6 which we, in our native language, 
 
 1 Is roused and driven forth.] Ver. 283, 4. Fertur percitus. 
 
 2 Close upon which follows the awful crash, <$re.] Ver. 285. Quern 
 yravis inseqititur sonitus, Sgc. 
 
 Follows the loosen 'd aggravated roar, 
 
 Enlarging, deep'ning, mingling ; peal on peal 
 
 Crush'd horrible ; convulsing heaven and earth. Thomson. 
 
 * To excite the waters to a new deluge.] Ver. 292. Ad diluxiem 
 revocare. " To call together anew, as it were, the whole body of 
 rain, in order to spread a second deluge over the earth." Wakejfield. 
 
 4 Sometimes, too, $-e.] Ver. 295. Est etiam, quom. " Est quum is 
 est yuando, as in Greek tanv art, equivalent to aliquando and inter- 
 dum." Lambinus. 
 
 * On its summit just ripe for explosion.] Ver. 296. Maturo d ail- 
 mine. This is Wakefield's reading, and is rendered according to his 
 interpretation. Lambinus, whom Lachmann follows, reads mature 
 Julmine, i. e. the lightning being ripe for eruption. 
 
 * Fiery vortex.] Ver. 297. Igneus Vortex. "He very properly 
 adds igneus, for if it were a vortex without fire, bursting from a dis- 
 ruptured cloud, it would not befulmen, but what in Greek is calleiV
 
 E. vi. 298-321. LUCRETIUS. 25", 
 
 call lightning. And this is not confined to one point only, 
 but extends to other parts, wheresoever the force of the wind 
 has diffused 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 in a cloud, when a cold blast of wind, darting forth with- 
 out any fire at all, has struck ttpon 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 wind 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 ; l for though it be not kindled by heat in its 
 
 riHpmv, or itcvKpiag." Lambinus. By these words the Greeks meant 
 a hurricane, or perhaps sometimes the wind that produces a water- 
 spout. See Pfin. N. H. ii. 48, 99. Sen. Nat. Qiuest. 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. 
 1 Whence it was so forcibly discharged from above.] Ver. 317. 
 Nee temere omnino plane vis frigida venti 
 Esse potest : ex quo tanta vi missa superne est. 
 
 Lambinus explains ex quo by ex quo tempore, or ex quo loco, giving 
 this turn to the passage : We can hardly suppose the wind itself 
 to be quite cold when 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 e nubibusemittitur," as if he thought 
 that ex quo might be taken in the sense of c*m or propterea quod a 
 sense which it will, perhaps, bear. 
 
 I
 
 258 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 322349. 
 
 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 
 us 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 eiforts, 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 1 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 2 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, 3 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 
 
 1 It is not, therefore, checked or delayed.] Ver. 333. Nonin 
 remorando hcesitat. Flies and spreads.] Volat labens. It is observ- 
 able that Lucretius has here used impetis and impete, in the fifth 
 foot, three times in eight verses. 
 
 2 Continually increases.] Ver. 341. Etiam atque etiam cresctt, 
 " Semper intenditur." Creech, 
 
 * Forward.] Ver. 34*, E regione. ' Directo." Lambinut.
 
 B. vi. 350376. LUCRLTIUS. 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, ind 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, 1 studded with glittering stars, are 
 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 2 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 
 colda contend with violent heats. These seasons may, there- 
 fore, be styled the WAR-TIMES OF THE YEAR. 3 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 
 
 1 The vault of heaven, -c.] Ver. 357. He now proceeds to ei. 
 plain why thunder and lightning are more frequent in spring au 
 autumn than at other seasons. 
 
 2 Intermediate-portion of the year.] Ver. 364. Fretus ipse anni. 
 11 By fretus (the same as fretum) anni, 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." Lambinut. 
 
 * War-times of the year.] Ver. 374. Bella anni. 
 
 8 2
 
 260 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 377400. 
 
 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, 1 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- 
 able wickedness, 2 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? 3 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 
 
 1 Verses of Etruria.] Ver. 381. Tyrrhena carmina. The Etrus- 
 cans were famous for auguries and divinations, which are said to 
 have been taught them by a man named Tages. who sprung up 
 among them from the earth. See Cic. de Div. lib. ii., and Ovid 
 Met. xv. 558. The rules and precepts of their art were written in 
 verse. 
 
 1 Reckless and detestable wickedness.] Ver. 390. Incautum scehis 
 atersabile. Incautum scehts 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. 
 Erachia consuescunt, firmantque lacertos. 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 to distinguish the two 
 parts.
 
 B. vi. 401424. 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, 1 that he 
 may hence aim the strokes of his weapon from 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? 
 
 And how can you believe that he hurls his bolts in various 
 directions at the same time ? 2 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 3 of the 
 other gods, and his own stately abodes, with his destructive 
 lightning ? And why 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 phenomena, which the Greeks from their na- 
 ture have called npi)9rffpcc/ sent down from above, descend into 
 
 1 Come down into their vortex. ] Ver. 402. In astum descendit. 
 ^Estus is tumult, surge. But all editors, except Wakefield and hia 
 followers, read ipse in eas turn, sc. mtbes. 
 
 2 hurls his bolts in various directions at the same time.] Ver. 
 411. " If you say that Jupiter hurls thunderbolts, you will either 
 affirm or deny that he hurls them in several places at the same 
 time. If you affirm it, how will you make it credible ? If you deny 
 it, experience will refute you." Lambinus. 
 
 * Shatter the sacred temples.] Ver. 416. Compar" ii. 1101, seq. 
 Ver. 424. By irprjarrjp (from rrptj^w. to burn) LU.
 
 262 LUCRETIUS. i, 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, which is of a 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 with agitation. 
 
 It happens also, at times, that a vortex of wind 1 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, 2 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 irpri<mjp might, however, burst from the cloud, 
 and scorch or burn any object. Thus, in Xen. Hell. i. 3, 1, it is 
 said that the temple of Minerva in Phocsea was burned, n-pjjorijpoc 
 ffi7rtff6vTO(;, i. e. having been, as we should say, stmck by lightning. See 
 Plin. N. H. ii. 48 : Quod si majore depressae nubis eruperit specu 
 turbinem vocant, proxima quaeque prosternentem : idem ardtntior 
 accensusque dum fiirit prester vocatur, amburens contacta pariter et 
 proterens. See also Sen. Nat. Qusest. v. 13. 
 
 1 It happens also, at times, that a vortex of wind, <?rc.] Ver. 443. 
 In this paragraph Lucretius speaks of wind in a cloud which imi- 
 tates or resembles a prester, but which is not fiery. 
 
 1 Tempests abroad.] Ver. 447. Procellat. 
 
 Part huge of bulk, 
 
 Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait, 
 Tempest the ocean. Miifon, P. L. vii, 410.
 
 B vi. 450-475. LUCRETIUS. 263 
 
 and because 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 us, 
 have suddenly come together and combined; atoms which, 
 though attached only in a slight degree, may yet be held 
 united in a body. These first cause small clouds to gather ; 
 those small clouds then unite 1 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. 2 
 
 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 ; 3 
 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 around itself, and our own perceptions 
 as we climb high mountains, demonstrate that breezy emi- 
 nences 4 are open to the ascent of exhalations. 
 
 Besides, that nature raises many atoms of vapour from the 
 whole surface of the ocean, garments suspended upon the shore 
 testify ; inasmuch as they contract and retain moisture. 5 To 
 augment the clouds, therefore, many atoms seem likely to 
 arise from the motion of the salt water ; for the nature and 
 action of all waters is similar. 
 
 1 Those small clouds then unite.] Ver. 456. Inde ea comprendunt 
 inter se. Ea, sc. parva nubila. 
 
 * With such violence, that at length a raging tempest arises.] Ver. 
 4-58. Usque adeo donee tempestas sava coorta est. 
 
 * Thick mist of a yellow cloud.] Ver. 461. Fdvce nubis caligine 
 crassa. Thomson borrows this expression : 
 
 A yellow mist 
 
 Far smoking o'er th' interminable plain. Spring, 193. 
 4 Breezy eminences.] Ver. 468. Loca sursum ventosa. 
 s Contract and retain moisture.] Ver. 472. Concipiunt humoris ad. 
 ktesum, conceive an adhesion of moisture. Motion of the salt water. | 
 Ver, 474. Salto momine ponti.
 
 264 LUCRETIUS. * n. 476-496. 
 
 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 l 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 ' 2 
 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; 3 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. 4 It is not, therefore, wonderful if storms 
 and darkness, diffused from above, 5 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 6 collects in the 
 clouds above, and how the showers are precipitated and de- 
 
 1 Influence.] Ver. 481. JEstus. "By cetheris cestus understand 
 those atoms which, continually proceeding from the heaven, com- 
 press the thin clouds, by impacts upon them, into showers." Creech, 
 &ee the next paragraph. 
 
 2 To this assemblage of clouds.~\ Ver. 483. Hunc in ceetum illi. 
 " Illi, soil, vortici, vel nubi." Forbiger. Lambinus reads ilia, agree- 
 ing with corpora. 
 
 3 The extent of the depth of space is infinite.] Ver. 485. Summam- 
 que profundi Esse infinitam. See i. 957, seq. Of the swiftness of 
 atoms, see ii. 141, seq. 
 
 4 Inexpressible distance.] Ver. 488. Immemorabile per spatium. 
 " Aviicttrwrirov, inexplicable, immensum." Faber, ad iv. 193, where 
 the same word occurs. 
 
 s Diffused from above.] Ver. 491. Impensa superne. " 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 1 should have little hesitation in assigning impensa, as well as 
 tuspensa,to the root pando; but in the silence of the old grammarians 
 it becomes me to express my suspicions with modesty." Wakejte'd. 
 
 Ra'n.] Ver. 485. riuvius humor.
 
 8. vi. 497-521. LUCRETIUS. 265 
 
 scend upon the earth. In the first place I shall observe, 1 that 
 many atoms of moisture arise, together with the clouds them- 
 selves, 2 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 with 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 wind. 
 
 And rains are accustomed to last long, and to continue for 
 a considerable period, when many particles of moisture flow 
 together, 4 and when there are clouds on clouds 5 heaped one 
 
 1 I shall observe.] Ver. 498. Vincam. This verb properly sig- 
 nifies, / will 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. 
 
 2 Arise, together with the clouds themselves.] Ver. 498. Consur- 
 gere nubibus ipsis. I have followed Creech in understanding cum or 
 win cum. That clouds do rise from the earth he has already re- 
 marked in ver. 476, seq. 
 
 3 They discharge rain distilling as wax, #c.] Ver. 515. Mittunt 
 humorem pluvium ; stillante quasi igni Cera liquescat. This is Wake- 
 field's reading. With stillante you must understand, si diis placet. 
 " ..umore." But Lambinus, and all his followers, have ttillantque. 
 
 4 Flow together.] Ver. 520, 522. Fluenterferuntur. But this is 
 a most inconvenient and unsatisfactory construction. For fiuenter 
 Lambinus \\asfuerunt, and Lachmann cierunt, either of which make* 
 very good sense. 
 
 * Clouds on clouds.] Ver. 521. Nubes nimbiyue.
 
 266 LUCRETIUS. B vi. 522- Soft 
 
 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 us, and all bodies (all / say, without exception) l 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. 2 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 3 when the stout drivers 
 
 1 All bodies, (all, / say, without exception.)] Ver. 528. Omnia, 
 prorsum Omnia. 
 
 2 Earthquakes.] Ver. 535. The opinions which he gives respect- 
 ing earthquakes are those of Epicurus, as well as of Democritus 
 and Anaxagoras. See Lambinus and Faber. 
 
 3 Nor are edifices less agitated, &c.] Ver. 550. JYee minits czsuUant 
 <rries, ubiquomque equitum vis, &c. The word ades is not wanted, a.9 
 tectu precedes. It was an intrusion of Wakefield's, from conjecture.
 
 B. Ti. 551568. LUCRETIUS. 267 
 
 of chariots hurry ilong the street the iron rounds of the 
 wheels. 
 
 It happens, alsc\ that when a large mass of earth 1 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, after 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, 2 sloping and being driven 
 from the perpendicular, lean in the same direction, and sc 
 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, 3 or could hinder them from 
 
 Lambinus read, Nee minus exultant ubi currus fortis equbm vis, &c. 
 The manuscripts vary, and are unintelligible. Lachmann re-con- 
 structs the line thus : Nee minus exultant, et ubi lap? cimque via'i. In 
 the next line, Ferratos utrinque rotarum succutit orbes, I have omitted 
 the second word in the translation. 
 
 1 When a large mass of earth, e.] 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. 
 
 2 Then the buildings which are erected upon the earth's surface, 
 lsc.1 Ver. 561. 
 
 Turn supra terram quse sunt exstructa domorum, 
 Ad ccelumque magis quanto sunt edita quaeque, 
 In clinata minent in eandem, prodita, partem ; 
 Protractreque trabes impendent, ire paratze. 
 
 Exstructa domorum, the sarrte as strata viarum, prima virorum, &c. 
 
 In clinata minent, says Wakefield, is for clinata imminent. Prodita, 
 
 he adds, is for porro data, or prajecta, or irpoKiipfva. Comp. ver. 606. 
 
 For minent Lachmann reads meant. 
 
 3 No power could save all things, fyc.~\ Ver. 568. 
 
 vis nulla refranet 
 
 Res, neque ab exitio possit reprehendere euntes. 
 
 i. e. vis nulla refraenet res ab exitio, neque possit reprehendere 
 (res) euntes (ad exitium). Lambinus reads.
 
 268 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 569585. 
 
 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; th3 earth, on this account, 
 oftener threatens ruin than actually suffers it ; l 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. 2 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 all. 3 
 
 There is also this cause of great quaking of the earth to be 
 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, 4 
 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 chasm ; as happened in Syrian Sidon, 5 and 
 
 non ulla refr&net 
 
 Res, neque ab exitio possit reprehendere euntem. 
 
 i. e. non ulla res refraenet (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, coalumque profundum, 
 Quippe ferant rapidi secum verrantque per auras. 
 
 JEn. i. 55. 
 
 1 The earth oftener threatens ruin than actually suffers it.] 
 Ver. 572. Sapius hanc ob rem minitatur terra ruinas Quam facit. 
 Earthquakes, and other disorders on the earth, do happen ; 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 whole weight, recovers its 
 station.] Ver. 574. Et recipit prolapsa situs in pondere sedes. " The 
 order is, Et prolapsa in (i. e. iv, cum, Sid) pondere, recipit suas se- 
 des." Wakefield. 
 
 * Scarcely at all.] Ver. 576. Perhilum. " Pauilum modo, fere 
 nihil." Faber. 
 
 * Rages, at first.] Ver. 581. Fremit ante. 
 
 r * Syrian Sidon.] Ver. 585. Syrui Sidone. This was the old lead- 
 ing, which, after Lambinus had altered it into Tyrid Sidone, \Vake-
 
 B. TI. 586-608. LUCRETIUS 269 
 
 was seen at JEgium in the Peloponnesus ; l 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. 2 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 dread the buildings above them ; and are 
 afraid, at the same time, lest the earth should suddenly break 
 up 3 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, 4 
 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 OF 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 " terrfl in 
 Syria, 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 Tigris, and, consequently, Phoenice, 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. 
 
 1 At ^Egium in the Peloponnesus.] Ver. 585. ^Egl in Peloponneto. 
 jEgium was a town of Acnaia, 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 petsum 
 Subsedere. " Pessum, deorsum, et quasi sub pedes." Lambinu*. 
 
 3 Lest the earth should suddenly break up.] Ver. 598. Terrai tie 
 dissolvat natura. " Terrai natura jfor Terra ipsa. " Creech. 
 
 * Intrusted to eternal safety.] Ver. 602. sEternce mandata salvti.
 
 270 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 609--63a 
 
 no augmentation. 1 In the first place, men wonder that nature 
 does not necessarily enlarge the ocean, 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 discharge 
 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 it. 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 
 
 1 Why the sea knows no augmentation.] Ver. 608. Cur augmen 
 nctciat <equor. " 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 we nderful that there it 
 ao increase in the sea." Creech.
 
 *. 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. 1 
 
 I shall "now explain what is the cause that fires 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, 3 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 flames, they 
 felt their breasts filled with awful anxiety, dreading what new 
 catastrophe nature might design to produce. 
 
 In contemplating such subjects as 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 4 
 
 1 Has conveyed the flood in its liquid course.] Ver. 639. QUA 
 via secta semel liquido pede detulit nudas. See ver. 270. 
 
 2 Fires burst forth from the jaws of Mount ./Etna.] Ver. 640. 
 
 " He now proceeds to treat of other remarkable phaenomena, which 
 might, in the opinion of some, support the notion of the world being 
 governed by the providence of the gods. And first, he speaks of the 
 fire of .(Etna, at which, though it lays waste a large portion of Sicily, 
 we ought not inconsiderately to wonder, as being beyond the 
 powers of nature. 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 
 ./Etna. 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, so is this world to the universe." From Creech. 
 
 3 From any divine origin of calamity.] Ver. 642. Neque enim diA 
 de clade coorta, l$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. 
 1 certainly prefer did. 
 
 4 How infinitely small a part.] Ver. 652. Qudm multesima. Lam- 
 binus compares the expression multesima pars with the Greek iro\-
 
 272 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 653 68L 
 
 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 darls 
 through the eyes ; erysipelas arises, and, creeping through the 
 frame, burns 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 earth and air contain seeds enough of noxious dis- 
 ease, from which an abundance of infinite disorder may have 
 its growth. Thus, too, we 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 the 
 effects of which the earth, being suddenly moved, may quake 
 with agitation, while a rapid hurricane may rush over sea and 
 land, the fire of jEtna may swell forth, and the heaven be in 
 a blaze ; for even this happens, even the celestial regions glow 
 with heat. Thus, 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 of^Etna," you will say, " is extraordi- 
 narily great." Doubtless, / answer; and a river, which haa 
 been seen by any person, appears extraordinarily great to him 
 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 as nothing in comparison with the ENTIRE SUM 
 
 OF THE ENTIRE WHOLE. 1 
 
 I will now, however, explain by what causes the fire ot 
 
 \oarbv /ispog, which he observes that Strabo (lib. i. p. 26, ed. Cas.) 
 uses in the sense of perexigua tantum pars. 
 
 ENTIRE SUM OF THE ENTIRE WHOLE.] Ver. 680. Summam sum- 
 mat tutiu-s omnem.
 
 TI 682709. LUCRETIUS. 273 
 
 JEtna., 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 from 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 produces 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 ?.s 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 phajnomena, 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, 2 that the one cause of it may 
 be sure to be mentioned. For neither, perhaps, can you prove 
 
 1 Blasts of wind enter.] Ver. 698. 
 
 hac ire, fatendum est, 
 
 Et penetrare mari, penitus res cogit, aperto, 
 Atque efflare foras. 
 
 I have 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;" 
 but, he adds, " the idea of fire retreating before a body of water, and 
 Deing 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, 4ft. J 
 
 T
 
 274 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 710-723. 
 
 that lie died by the sword, nor of the effects of cold, nor by 
 disease, nor by poison ; but we know that it is something ot 
 thirf 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, 1 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, 2 because the north winds, which are said to be Etesian 
 winds, 9 prevail at that time in the summer over against the 
 mouth of the river, and, blowing up the stream, retard it ; and 
 thus, 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 ut omnes dicere causas conveniat leti, dicatur ut illnis 
 una. " Enumerare oportet omnes causas." Creech. 
 
 1 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 the 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 the 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 Dipd. 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 partially 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. 
 
 2 And this happens, possibly, -c.] Ver. 716. Aut qma sunt testate 
 aquilones, %c. The reader of the 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. Etesia: esseferuntur. See v 741.
 
 . TI. 72473? LUCRETIUS 275 
 
 day, 1 amidst the races of mankind blackened with scorching 
 heat. 2 
 
 It is possible, also, that a great collection of sand 3 (at times 
 when the sea, excited by the wind, drives the sand within the 
 bed of the river) may cause obstruction 4 at the mouth of the 
 stream to the waters coming towards it. By this means it 
 may happen that the outlet of the river may be less free, and 
 that the current of the water, likewise, may be 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, 5 
 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. 
 
 1 From the regions of noon-day.] Ver. 724. Media ab regione diei. 
 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 stecla 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 j, ercoctus calor, scorched heat? Lambinus read percoctaque 
 sepcla cafo-e, which is intelligible ; and Lachmann gives percocto sacta 
 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- 
 
 4 Cause obstruction, l$cJ] Ver. 726. Possit Fluctibus adversis oppi- 
 lare ostia contra. " Oppilare," says Lambinus, "is to obstruct like a 
 number of pillars or columns ranged in opposition." The construc- 
 tion is, o.jpilare, to offer obstruction, fiuctibus adversis, to the adverse 
 waters of the river, (i. e. to the waters of the river coming down 
 against ' he sand,) contra ostia, opposite the mouth. Scheller. in his 
 Lexicon, referring to this passage, cites merely "oppilare ostia," 
 which might lead the reader to suppose that oppilare governs ostia 4 
 but Lav ibimi* rightly observes that oppilare is here used absolutely. 
 
 * Impelled towards the regions of the south.] Ver. 7S3. Admcdiam 
 regioner.i ejecta dtei. See ver. 724. 
 
 T 2
 
 278 LUCRETIUS. n. vi. 739- -758. 
 
 Give me now your attention, and I will show with what 
 nature and qualities the regions and lakes, which are called 
 Avernian, 1 are distinguished. 
 
 In the first place, as to the circumstance that they are 
 named Avercian, that name has been given them from their 
 peculiar property, inasmuch as they are destructive to all 
 kinds of birds; and because, when any of the feathered tribe 
 have, in their flight, come over against those parts, 2 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 Avernus 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, 3 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, 4 to which as soon as four-footed animals have directed 
 
 1 Regions and lakes vhich are called Avernian.] Ver. 739. Aver- 
 naJoca. Loca Averna, i. e. dopva, or without 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 tbese places as far as ver. 840. 
 
 * Have come over against those parts.] Ver. 743. E regione ea 
 qvod loca yuom venere. i. e. cum e regione (ad) ea loca venere." 
 Lambinut. 
 
 * Not the violent wrath of Pallas on account of watchfulness.] 
 er. 754. Nan irat Palladia acres Pervigil'i causa. The crow is called 
 inrua 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,) sbe 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 ber and her temples. See Ov. Met. ii. 542, seq. 
 
 *Ptowrfytobeseen.] Ver. 757. Videri. "*QmV*9m?' Lambinvt
 
 . 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 operation 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, 1 must we imagine 
 that the infernal deities can possibly draw souls down from 
 hence into the coasts of Acheron, as swift stags, 2 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 all this is at variance with just reasoning ; 
 for I now proceed to give you a full explanation concerning 
 this very subject. 
 
 In the first place, I assert this, (which I have also fre 
 quently asserted before, 3 ) 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 4 that for 
 different animals, with regard to the sustenance of life, some 
 substances are better adapted than others, on account 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 which 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, 5 so that they often cause pains in the head, if 
 any one lie. stretched on the grass beneath them. 
 
 1 Moreover.] Ver. 764. Post, i. e. deinde, as Wakefield, whose 
 i-eading it is, interprets. Possibly, m the next line, answers to fortt 
 in the original. 
 
 2 As swift stags, Ac.] Ver. 766. In reference to this notion see 
 Pliny, N. H. ii. 53; Oppian, Cyneg. ii. 233; ./Elian, de Anim. ii. 9- 
 
 3 Which I have also frequently asserted before.] Ver. 770. See 
 ii. 333. 
 
 4 Previously shown.] Ver. 775. See iv. 634; v. 896. 
 
 * Poisonous shade.] Ver. 784. Gram 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 them separately to different productions. 
 
 And when a night taper, just extinguished, 2 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 3 which is accustomed to stretch men at full length. 
 
 And a woman, overcome with the strong scent of castor, 4 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, with a stomach too full, you even stay long in a 
 warm bath, or are drenched in a laver of tepid water, 5 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 Manchineel tree of the West Indies, and the Upas 
 of Java, were then unknown to Europeans. 
 
 1 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. 
 
 1 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, and other esculents, will power- 
 fully affect females, especially when they are under the circum- 
 stances alluded to by the poet." 
 
 1 As when that disease takes effect, bc.~\ Ver. 794. Ut pronos qui 
 morbus mittere met it. "You may reasonably interpret it the morbua 
 comitialis, or falling sickness." Creech. 
 
 4 Strong scent of castor.] Ver. 795. Castoreoque gravi. " Casio- 
 reum, 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.
 
 . vi. 801-810. LUCRETIUS. 279 
 
 easily may it often happen that you may fall down 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 draught of water ! l But when it has penetrated 2 
 through all 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 offensive smell, forms 
 concretions in it ? When, moreover, men seek for veins of 
 silver and gold, searching the hidden depths of the earth with 
 
 1 Unless we have first taken a draught of water.] Ver. 804. Nisi 
 aquam pracepimus antd. Ante, first, i. e. "before the odour of the 
 charcoal can penetrate into the brain." Lambinus. 
 
 2 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 
 Quam facile in cerebrum, nisi aquam praecepimus antfe. 
 At cum membra domus percepit fervida, nervis 
 Turn fit odor vini plague mactabilis instar. 
 
 (In Wakefield's edition the word At begins a new paragraph.) It is 
 therefore fair to suppose that Forbiger and Eichstadt referred percepit 
 to carbonum odor i 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) plagae 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 mustum in- 
 stead of nervis. As for Lambinus and his party, they read, 
 
 At cum membra hominis percepit fervida febris, 
 Turn fit odor vini plagae mactabilis instar ; 
 
 which Creech rendered by the audacious couplet, 
 
 To those whom fevers burn, the piercing smell 
 Of vigorous wine is grievous, death ana hell. 
 
 Lachmann reads, 
 
 At cum membra domus percepit fervidior via 
 Turn fit odor viri plagae mactabilis instar. 
 
 Fir*', from virtu, poison, referring to the charcoal. This may \*e 
 right.
 
 280 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 811829. 
 
 iron instruments, hovt strong an odour does the mine 1 exhale 
 from beneath ! 
 
 Or have you net learned how much poison is in the earth 
 for gold mines to exhale ? 2 What sort of looks and com- 
 plexions do they produce in the men who work in them ? 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, 8 
 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 
 
 1 Mine.] Ver. 811. Scaptensula. It is a word formed from fftcair- 
 rog, i/, bv, (from aK&irrtiv, to dig,) and v\r\, matter, signifying material 
 for digging, or material dug up. Lambinus thinks that it should 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. 
 
 2 Or have you not learned how much poison is in the earth for gold 
 mines to exhale?] Ver. 812. Quidve mail jit, ut exhalent aitrata me- 
 tallaf " Meaning," says Wakefield, " what poisonous matter that 
 is, from which gold mines emit such exhalations ? " 
 
 * And when the bird has fallen there, $e.] Ver. 825. 
 Quo cum corruit haec eadem vis illius aestus, 
 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 corruit, 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 testus 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.
 
 vi. 830855. LUCRETIUS. 281 
 
 poison, it comes to pass that they must there yield up even 
 their life, because a vast quantity of the poisonous-exhalation 
 surrounds them. 
 
 It happens also, at times, that this vapour and exhalation 
 of Avernus 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 them, nature, you will understand, compels them to de- 
 scend to the earth by their own 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, 1 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 Arnmon, 2 there is said to be 
 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 turn, 3 by the power of 
 the sun from 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 
 
 1 Water in wells.] Ver. 841. Having concluded his remarks on 
 the Avernian regions, he proceeds to account, from natural causes, 
 for other phaenomena. 
 
 2 Near the temple of Jupiter Ammon, $c.]Ver. 819. This foun- 
 tain is described by Pliny, H. N. ii. 103; romp. Mela, i. 8; and 
 Quintus Curtius, iv. 7. Reference is also made to it by Ovid. Met. 
 xv. 309, and by Silius Italicus, iii. 669. Its warmth was doubtless 
 supplied by subterranean fire, but for its alternations of heat and 
 eold no cause has been assigned. 
 
 In its turn.] Ver. 852. Partim. " Vicissim." Wakejield.
 
 282 LUCRETIUS. B. M. 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, 1 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 sun as 
 the day comes on, 2 and is rarefied by the tremulous heat of 
 his beams. It accordingly happens, that whatever particles of 
 heat it contains, it disperses ; as water often dispels the cold 
 which it contains, and dissolves its ice, and relaxes its fetters. 
 
 There is also a cold spring at Dodona, 3 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 beiny, 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, 
 
 1 Make the water warm to the touch.] Ver. 869. Calidum foci unt 
 laticis tactum. Make the touch of the water warm. 
 
 2 As the day comes on.] Ver. 876. In lucem. Towards day. Comp. 
 in testatem, 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. u. 103, describes the fountain as being situate.
 
 a vi, 887909. LUCRETIUS. 283 
 
 and be exhak?<! and pass forth, at the same time, into the air ; 
 yet these particles must not be so vivid as that the spring can 
 be rendered hot by them. 
 
 Besides, some powerful influence excites those atoms of heat, 
 when dispersed abroad, to burst suddenly upwards through 
 the water, and to combine on the surface; as, in the sea around 
 Arados, 1 there is a spring of fresh water which bubbles up v 
 through it, 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 
 catch Jire in like manner? Many other substances, too, 
 affected by the mere heat, begin to burn at a distance from a 
 fire, before its flame closely involves them. 3 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, 4 from the name of the region that produced it, (for 
 
 1 In the sea around Arados.] Ver. 891. Indu mari Aradio. Arados 
 was a town, built on an island of the same name, on the coast of 
 Phoanicia. 
 
 1 Wick of a lamp.'] Ver. 901. Linum. There is no doubt that this 
 is the meaning of the word linum in this passage. 
 
 " When, just extinct, the taper we apply 
 To one full blazing." Good. 
 
 * Closely involves them.J Ver. 905. Imbuat. 
 
 * Magnet] Ver. 908. Magnesia 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 Magnes, a young man, who, walking over some stones, 
 found himself held fast by the iron attached to his shoes, and thut 
 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 and favourable regard. 
 
 In the first place, from all bodies, 1 whatsoever we behold, 
 there must necessarily flow, and be emitted and dispersed, 
 certain substances which strike the eye and excite vision ; 
 odours, too, are perpetually flying off from 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 fpeak, 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 2 that which is set forth in the 
 first part of my 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 
 
 1 In the first place, from all bodies, <S,c.] Ver. 922. Fifteen veries 
 are here repeated from iv. 217. 
 
 Here I shall observe again.! Ver. 937- Repetam commtmorar*. 
 See i. 266.
 
 a VI. 942957. LUCRETIUS. 285 
 
 nothing in the whole of things before us l but body intermingled 
 with vacuity. 
 
 It is apparent, first of all, that in caverns 2 the overhanging 
 rocks exude moisture, and distil running drops. From the 
 whole of our own bodies, also, perspiration trickles ; our 
 beard springs forth from them, and hairs arise over all our 
 limbs and members ; the food which we take 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 full 
 cups. 3 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. 4 The 
 infection of disease likewise penetrates walls, as it enters into 
 houses from without. Philosophers too, with reason, send 
 far back again 5 into the depths of heaven and earth, the 
 
 1 Before us.] Ver. 942. In promtu. " Nihil in rerum naturfl." 
 Creech. 
 
 2 In caverns, & c -] Ver. 943. His design, in these observations, is 
 to show that in all oodles, however apparently solid, moro 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. 
 
 8 Holding full cups.] Ver. 951. See i. 495, 496. 
 
 4 Corslet confines the circuit of the neck.] Ver. 954. 
 
 Ignis; qui ferri quoque vim penetrare suevit 
 Denique, qua circum colli lorica coercet. 
 
 This is Wakefield's reading. Lambinus read, Undique qua circum 
 corpus lorica coercet. The passage is probably still corrupt. 
 
 5 Philosophers too, with reason, send far back again, $c.] Ver. 
 957. 
 
 Et tempestatem terra coeloque coortam, 
 
 In ccelum terramque remote jure facessunt, 
 
 Quandoquidem nihil est, nisi raro corpore nexum. 
 
 Tina is Wakefield's reading, and is translated according to his ex- 
 position. " The atoms of a tempest," says he, " which arise from th*/
 
 86 LUCRETIUS. B. vi 958- -986 
 
 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. 1 
 
 To this is to be 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 its 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, 2 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. But 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 be 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 differing from one another, and have respectively their 
 own forms and shapes. 3 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 
 philosophi, and takes remote facessunt in the sense of send far back. 
 Lambinus and Creech have another lection, which, however, does 
 not much alter the sense. 
 
 1 Far-from-impenetrable to other atoms.'} Ver. 959. I have ren- 
 dered raro by far-from-impenetrable. See on ver. 943, 947* 
 
 2 Swine shrink from ointment of amaracus. J Ver. 974. Amara- 
 cinum fugitat sus. " Vetus adagium est, nihil cum fidibus graculo ; 
 nihil cum amaracino stti." Aul. Gell. Pref. 
 
 3 Their own forms and shapes.] Ver. 984. Suamnaturam viasque. 
 All pores must have their own via by which they allow atoms to
 
 B. YI. 9861014. LUCRETIUS. 287 
 
 mals, of which each perceives for itself its own peculiar object ; 
 since we observe that by one sense sounds penetrate into vs, 
 by another taste from the juices of food, 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 above) 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, 1 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, immediately 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 iron. 2 It is therefore the less wonderful, if (as is 
 stated) certain of its atoms, 3 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. 
 
 1 Moreover.] Ver. 999. Quod superest. 
 
 2 Cold and rough consistence of stout iron.] Ver. 1010. Validi 
 ferri natures frigidus horror. Horror means roughness, as horreo, to be 
 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, (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 f And was steel all horror to Dr. Good's touch? 
 
 3 Certain of its atoms.] Ver. 1011. Ex dementis corpora, i. e. 
 (Quaedam) corpuscula ex (annul!) corpusculis. Lambinus and 
 Lachmann have other readings.
 
 288 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 10151042. 
 
 reached the stone itself, and has become fixed to it by secret 
 attachment. The same process takes place on all sides ; and 
 wherever an empty space is formed, whether at the side of the 
 iron or above it, the nearest atoms tend immediately into the 
 void. For they are impelled by impacts from other surround- 
 ing atoms ; nor can they, of themselves, rise upwards, or pass 
 away from the magnet, into the air. 
 
 To this is to be added another reason why this motion of 
 the 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 a* 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 small rect-.-ses, 
 thrusts and pushes it forward. This substance of the iron, 
 accordingly, is helped fonoard 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, as if accustomed to start back from it y 
 and to follow it, by turns. 
 
 1 Substance of the iron recedes.] Ver. 1041. " It happens, too, 
 says Lucretius, that the iron at times starts back from the 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." Lambinus. Gassendi thought 
 that Lucretius may have been acquainted with the difference in the 
 two poles of the magnet ; but the poet, says Creech, doubtless had 
 no more knowledge than he exhibits.
 
 . VT. 10431070. LUCRETIUS. 289 
 
 Thus have I seen iron rings of Samothrace, 1 as well as 
 filings of iron, lying in brazen basins, thrown into agitation, 
 and start up, when the magnet was applied emderneath ; so 
 that it seems desirous to flee away from the load-stone, when 
 the brass is interposed ; for it is by 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 they 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. 
 
 But do not wonder, in the consideration 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 appears 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, 2 sooner than the seams of ox-glue / 
 will relax their fastenings. 
 
 1 Iron rings of Samothrace.] Ver. 1043. Samothracia 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. 
 
 1 Will open in cracks.] Ver. 1069. Vitio hitcant.
 
 290 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 1071-10S6. 
 
 The juice of the vine is willing to mingle with spring 
 water, while heavy pitch, and light olive oil, refuse to unite 
 with it. 
 
 The purple colour of the raurex so blends in one body with 
 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 only by pewter. 2 
 
 How many other facts of this nature is it possible to pro- 
 duce ! But to what purpose would it be f 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, 3 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. 4 It is possible, also, we may observe, that some bodies 
 may be held united as if with rings and hooks ; 5 a mode of 
 
 1 One substance only couples gold with gold.] Ver. 1077. Res 
 auro aurum concopulat una. " The substance is chrysocolla, that is, 
 cement of gold ; the mode of making which you may learn from 
 Pliny, H. N. xxxiii. 5." Lambinus. Good says that chrysocotla 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." 
 
 2 Brass is united with brass only by pewter.] \ er. 1078. jErique 
 es plumbo fit uti jungatur ab albo. " Pewter is, in the present day, 
 the common solder for copper and brass ; it is generally a combin- 
 ation of tin, lead, and regulus of antimony." Good. It would be 
 wrong, he adds, to translate plumbum album, white lead, " for the 
 ceruse, or white lead of modern days, is no solder -whatever in 
 metallic preparations." 
 
 3 Textures so mutually correspond.] Ver. 1083. Ita texturee ceci* 
 derunt mutua contra. "Texturae ita mutuo respondent." Creec/i. 
 Contra ceciderunt means correspond, and mutua is adverbially for 
 mutuo. 
 
 4 The best union is evidently formed.] Ver. 1085. Inter sejunctura 
 fate optima constat. Lambinus reads horum. 
 
 ' United as if with rings and hooks.] Ver. 1086. He has before
 
 B. vi. 10S7-1112. LUCRETIUS. 291 
 
 union which seems to take place, rather than any other, be- 
 tween the loadstone and iron. f( 
 
 I shall now explain what is the nature and origin of dis- 
 eases, 1 and how a morbid infection of the 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 2 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-S 
 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 Egypt, where the north pole of the world fails to 
 show itself? 3 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? 4 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, also, 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. 
 
 1 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. 
 
 2 I have already shown.] Ver. 1093. See iv. 634; v. 897 ; vi. 769. 
 
 3 Where the north pole of the world fails to show itseff.l Ver. 11C6. 
 Qua 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." Lambimis. "Claitdicat for deficit." Creech. 
 
 4 Parching heat of the n.] Ver. 1108. Percocto calore. SEC vt-i. 
 723. 
 
 u 2
 
 292 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 1113 1132. 
 
 There is the disease called leprosy, 1 which has its rise on 
 the river Nile ; in the middle of Egypt, and in no other 
 country. 
 
 In Attica the feet 2 are affected with the gout; and in the 
 country of Achaia the eyes are afflicted with soreness. Hence 
 various regions are unfavourable to various parts and mem- 
 bers ; and this effect the difference of the air produces. 
 
 When that air, therefore, which to us is 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- 
 rupt air has at length joined our air, it infects it, and renders 
 it like itself, and unsuitableybr us. 
 
 This new malady and pest, therefore, either suddenly falls 
 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; 3 and when, as we 
 breathe, we inhale the air mingled with it, we must neces- 
 sarily absorb those seeds 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 differ- 
 
 1 Leprosy.] Ver. 1113. Elephas. Poetically for elephantiasis; a 
 kind ot leprosy. "Some assert that this disease affects only those 
 inhabitants of Egypt who drink the water of the Nile ; but Celsus, 
 iii. 26, says that though it is almost unknown in Italy, it is in some 
 countries very common." Creech. 
 
 2 In Attica the feet, <Sfe.] Ver. 1115. The commentators cite no 
 other authorities for the prevalence of these diseases in these coun- 
 tries. 
 
 The infection remains suspended in the air itself.] Ver. 1126. 
 
 The all-surrounding 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 sting of monsters all her own. 
 
 Armstrong, Art of P. H. iii. Stl,
 
 l. Tt. 11331144. LUCRETIUS. 293 
 
 enco. whether we go into climates that are unfavourable tc 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 ; J it both dispeopled the roads, and 
 exhausted the city of its inhabitants. For, having its rise in 
 remote parts, proceeding from the coasts of Egypt, and having 
 passed through a long tract of air, and over the liquid plains 
 of the sea, it at length descended on the people of Pandion, 2 
 and all were then consigned by troops to disease and death. 
 
 They first found the head burning with heat, 3 and the eyes 
 
 1 Territories of Attica.] Ver. 1137. " Here follows a description 
 of the plague which formerly devastated Athens, drawn from the 
 second book of Thucydides, and the third of Hippocrates de Morbis 
 Popularibus. This description Lucretius has given with such effect, 
 that, in the opinion of Macrobius, (Sat. vi. 2,) ne afforded matter for 
 imitation to Virgil, Georg. iii. 478, seq. Certainly Ovid took some- 
 thing from him in the seventh book of the Metamorphoses." Creech. 
 
 1 should observe that I have omitted here and there a conjunc- 
 tion or two, which, though serviceable in Lucretius's verse, would 
 but have clogged English prose. 
 
 Armstrong, in his Art of Preserving Health, book iii., has a short 
 description of a plague, 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 in the middle of summer, which 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. 
 
 2 People 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- 
 cipio caput incensum fervore gerebant. This is taken from Thucydides. 
 This passage, rendered as follows by Le Blanc de Guillet, will af- 
 ford a specimen of his verskm : 
 
 D' abord ces malheureux, si la vue alarmee, 
 S' offroient, les yeux ardens, et la tete enflammee. 
 Bientot un sang epais suintoit de leur gosier, 
 Ou des ulceres oirs, prompts a se deployer
 
 294 LUCRETIUS. t. vi. 114-5 1159 
 
 red with an extraordinary brilliancy shed over them. The 
 jaws, also, which looked black within, exuded blood ; ana the 
 passage of the voice was clogged and obstructed 1 with ulcers. 
 The tongue, the interpreter of the mind, was covered with 
 drops of gore, and was 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 2 of the patients, all the defences of life at once 
 gave way. 
 
 The breath sent forth a fetid odour from the mouth, suof\ 
 as putrid carcasses, cast out upon the earth, emit. The powers 
 of the whole mind, and the whole body, grew languid, as ij 
 on the very threshold of death. On these intolerable suffer- 
 ing was perpetually attendant an anxious distress of mind, 
 and complaints mingled with moanings. A retching, 3 too 
 
 Interceptant la voix, 1" 6touffaient dans la bouche. 
 
 De 1' ame appesantie, interprete farouche, 
 
 La langue foible, rude, et n'ayant qti'un jeu lent, 
 
 Se distillait de meme 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, a leur effort vainqueur, 
 
 S' ebranlaient, s' ecroulaient, tout prets a se dissoudre. 
 
 Des cadavres infects, pourrissans dans le poudre, 
 
 D' une haleine empestee, on exlialait 1' odeur. 
 
 L' ame etoit 'sans ressort ; cedant a sa langueur, 
 
 A sa destruction, le corps touchait, comme elle. 
 
 E quelle anxiete profonde, universelle ! 
 
 Quels chagrins douloureux, quels long gemissemens 
 
 Meles de cris plaintifs de momens en momens ! 
 
 Quels sanglots, nuit et jour, irrite ces tortures, 
 
 Contracte tous les nerfs, les membres, leur jointures; 
 
 Dissolve 1' homme entier, epuise des long temps ! 
 
 1 Clogged and obstructed.] Ver. 1147. Sapta coibat. 
 
 1 Stomach.] Ver. 1151. Cor. "The stomach. The ancient 
 physicians, says the Scholiast on Thucydides, called the stomacii 
 KapSia, or the heart, and pain in the stomach, icapdtwyjuoe." Creech. 
 
 3 A retching. ] Ver. 1159. Singuttus. The term answering to this 
 in the description of Thucydides, is XvyK KEVIJ, on which Dr. Arnold 
 makes the following observations. " Avy is what we call a hiccough, 
 (compare Plato, Sympos. p. 185,) but here it seems to be almost 
 approaching to what is called ' retching ; ' and Xvy KIVIJ is that inef- 
 fectual retching consequent upon exhaustion, when nothing is actu-
 
 B. vi. 11591172. LUCRETIUS. 295 
 
 frequently occurring both by night and by day, convulsed the 
 nerves from time to time, and, contracting the limbs, rendered 
 the sufferers powerless, exhausting those who were already 
 wearied out with pain. 
 
 1 "tt you could not perceive the surface of the body of any 
 one externally 1 inflamed with any extraordinary degree of 
 heat, 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 ; 2 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 ; so 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 threw themselves into cool rivers, precipitating their bodies 
 naked into the waters. Many, approaching the brink with 
 
 ally brought off the stomach." The expression " ineffectual retch- 
 ing," has been adopted by Mr. Dale in his translation of Fhucydides. 
 For Xi'jK and singultus the lexicons give nothing but sobbing or hic- 
 cup, but in these passages of Thucydides and Lucretius something 
 more is evidently intended. 
 
 The Scholiast on Thucydides says that " there was a Xvy? irXriprie 
 as well as Xvy Kivtj, as Hippocrates observes." I have not been 
 able to find this distinction in Hippocrates, but it may be discover- 
 able. From the manner in which Hippocrates often uses the word 
 Xry, he seems at times to mean more by it than we understand by 
 hiccup. Thus Aphor. vii. 3 : 'Eirl Ijusry Xvy iccu 6<t>5a\fjioi ipvSpoi, 
 KUKOV. De Morb. iii. 19 : OTTOTUV ovv Trpoay ical Xt>y U/J.CL, icai aV/iaroc, 
 Spon^ovg aVoS/jcrcry iifia rtji ertaXy fttXavaf, ovrog diroSvriOKti iSouaio. 
 In the passage of Plato to which Arnold refers, Sympos. c. 13, it 
 means simply hiccup. 
 
 Of the translators of Lucretius, Creech, iorfrequens singultus, gives 
 "vexing sobs ;" Busby, "melting momentary sobs;" Good, "hic- 
 cough deep;" and the old version, which Good calls Guernier's, 
 " frequent sobbings." The French translators, Le Blanc de Guillet 
 and Pongerville, give sanglots. 
 
 Thick and pantingly 
 The breath was fetch'd, and with huge lab'rings heaved. 
 
 Armstrong, Art of P. H. iii. 559- 
 
 1 Surface of the body externally.] Ver. 1163. Corporis in 
 
 sum mo summam fervescere partem. 
 
 2 Ulcers, as it were, burning in .] Ver. 165. Ulceribtu quasi 
 utustis. See on ver. 723.
 
 296 LUCRETIUS. B. vi 11731199. 
 
 open mouths, hurled themselves headlong down 1 into the 
 water in wells ; for a parching thirst, raging insatiably, and 
 driving-Me/n-to-plunge their bodies into the flood, 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 ; 2 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 Avas 
 thin, scanty, and tinged with the colour of saffron ; it was 
 also salt, and expelled with difficulty from the hoarse throat 
 by coughing. In the hand, the nerves contracted ; and the 
 whole arm shook. From the feet a coldness rose quickly, 
 yet gradually, 3 over the body ; the nostrils, towards the closing 
 hour of life, were compressed ; the point of the nose was sharp ; 
 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 oneybr 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- 
 
 1 Hurled themselves down.] Ver. 1173. Alte inciderunt. Fell 
 from on high, from the high brink. 
 
 2 Medicine spoke in low tones with a secret dread.] Ver. 1178. 
 Mussabat tacito medicina timore, 
 
 The SALUTARY ART 
 
 Was mute ; and, startled at the new disease, 
 In fearful whispers hopeless omens gave. 
 
 Armstrong, Art of Preserving Health, book iii. 
 
 Silius Italicus, in bis description of the plague that happened in 
 Sicily, during the siege of Syracuse by Marcellus, has " Succuluit 
 Medicina malis." xiv. 669. 
 
 * Rose quickly, yet gradually.] Ver. 1191. Mimttatim ntccedwt 
 non dubitabat.
 
 B. vi. 12001220. 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 away. 
 
 He, moreover, who had escaped this violent flux of foul 
 blood, was not certain wholly to recover; for still the disease 
 was ready-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 
 withourtiands and feet, and though they lost their eyes, yet 
 persisted-to-remain in life; so strong a dread of death had taken 
 possession of them. Upon some, too, came forgetfulness l 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 flesh, 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 suffered 
 from the disease, and died ; the faithful spirit of the dog, 2 espe- 
 
 1 Upon some, too, came forgetfulness, <S?c.] Ver. 1210. 
 
 A wild delirium came; their weeping friends 
 Were strangers now, and this no home of theirs. 
 Harass'd with toil on toil, the sinking powers 
 Lay prostrate and o'erthrown ; a pond'rous sleep 
 Wrapt all the senses up ; they slept and died. 
 
 Armstrong, Art of P. H. iii. 562. 
 
 2 The faithful spirit of the dog.] Ver. 1220. Fida canum via. 
 Compare Canum permissa vis, iv. 683. Thucydides, ii. 50, alludes to 
 the effect of the disease on the dogs ; and Homer makes the infec- 
 tion of his plague seize on dogs among the first : 
 
 On mules and dogs th' infection first began. Pope. 
 So Virgil, Geo. iii. 496: 
 
 Hinc canibus blandis rabies venit. 
 
 Then on bland dogs the madd'ning influence fell. 
 And so Silius Italicus, xiv. 594 : 
 
 Vim primi sensere canes. 
 
 The dogs were first the dire disease to feel.
 
 298 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 12211243. 
 
 cially, 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. 1 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, 2 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- 
 demned 3 to death, sunk in spirit, and with a despairing heart, 4 
 thinking only of death, and gave up the ghost on the same 
 spot on which he foil. 
 
 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 them to 
 perish by a squalid and miserable end, deserted by their rela- 
 tives, and destitute of relief. But those who had been ready 
 to give assistance, fell into the malady from infection, and by 
 reason of the duty which shame, and the moving entreaties of 
 
 1 Were eagerly hurried over.] Ver. 1224, Rapi certdbant. It 
 would seem either that this verse is out of its place, or that the 
 passage is defective. 
 
 2 The privilege of breathing the vital air.] Ver. 1226. Vitalet 
 acris auras Volvere in ore licere. 
 
 3 As if he were condemned.] Ver. 1231. Danmatus ut esset. " Ut 
 for quasi." Faber. 
 
 4 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 views of death. 
 Infectious horror ran from face to face, 
 And pale despair.
 
 T. !. 12441266. LUCRETIUS. 299 
 
 the sufferers, mingled with sounds of reproach, 1 compelled 
 them to undergo. The most excellent characters, accordingly, 
 incurred this kind of death most frequently. 
 
 Those, moreover, who strove to bury the multitude of their 
 dead, one after another, 2 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 mournings/or the loss of friends, had af- 
 fected. 
 
 Besides, as the pestilence now spread, every shepherd and 
 herdsman, as well as every stout driver of the crooked plough, 
 languished under the infection; their bodies lay cooped up 
 within their narrow huts, consigned to death from the effects 
 of 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 I 
 shelter ; for which reason, as they tvere thus crammed toge-p 
 ther, death the more easily strewed them in heaps by thef 
 force of contagion. 
 
 Many bodies, from the ejfects of thirst, lay stretched at the 
 public conduits, 3 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, 4 you might have seen powerless limbs, with 
 
 1 Mingled with sounds of reproach.} Ver. 1244. Mixtd voce yw#- 
 reJce. The voice of complaint or reproach being mixed with en- 
 treaties. 
 
 - One after another.] Ver. 1246. Inqtie aliis aliwn. "Alterum 
 post alterum." Wakefield. One among others. 
 
 3 Stretched at the public conduits.] Ver. 1264. Sikmos ad aqua- 
 ntm 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, Marsyae, Silani, <?re., were fixed over the conduits, which 
 were accordingly named from them. 
 
 4 Along the open and public roads.] Ver. 1266. Per populi loco, 
 prompta viasque.
 
 300 LUCRETIUS. B. vi. 1267-1277. 
 
 halt-dead bodies of men, horrible with squalor, covered wi*h 
 rags, and perishing for want of dressing ; there was skin only 
 on the bones, 1 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, 2 with which that pious 
 
 1 Skin only on the bones, 4rc.] Ver. 1269. 
 
 Pellis super ossibus una, 
 Visceribus tetris prope jam sordique sepulta. 
 
 I have rendered sepulta " 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 deperdita." But in truth visceribus makes the passage nonsense; 
 all other editors, except Wakefield, Forbiger, and Eichstadt, have 
 Ulceribus. 
 
 2 Nor was the custom of sepulture, to-] Ver. 1277. "In these 
 last verses the poet relates, that the Athenians were not content 
 with polluting their 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." Corn- 
 men tary on Creech's Translation. 
 
 Qualis Erechthonios pestis populata colonos, 
 Extulit antiquas per funera pacis Athenas, 
 Alter in alterius labens cum fata ruebat ; 
 Nee locus erat artis medicae ; nee vota valebant; 
 Cesserat officium morbis, et funera deerant 
 Mortibus, et lacrymae ; fessus defecerat ignis, 
 Et coacervatis ardebant corpora membris. 
 
 Maniliua, i. 882. 
 
 Through Erecthean lands when that plague stray'd, 
 And Athens waste by peaceful funerals laid;
 
 B. vi. 12781285. LUCRETIUS. SOI 
 
 people had always been accustomed to bury, 1 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, 3 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 wanting; those no mourners shed ; 
 
 The wearied flame did from its office cease ; 
 
 Heaps of fired bones burnt the dead carcasses. 
 
 Sir Edward Sherburne. 
 
 1 Had been accustomed to bury.] Ver. 1278. Consuerat humari, 
 The sense requires humare, which Creech gives in his interpretation. 
 The people had been accustomed to bury (their dead), not to be fat~ 
 ried. 
 
 Ran hither and thither.] Ver. 1279. Repedabat: which Wake- 
 field interprets discursitabat. Lambinus and Creech, whom Lach- 
 mann follows, give trepidabat. 
 
 3 Funeral piles raised for others.] Ver. 1282. Aliena rogarum 
 extructa. 
 
 Thus abruptly ends 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 thought 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 through 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 taking its rise from Egypt. " Ethiopia and 
 Egypt," says Gibbon, (ch. xliii. sub Jin.,) "have been stigmatized, 
 in every age, as the great source and seminary of the plague. In a 
 damp, hot, stagnating air, this African fever is generated from the I 
 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. 
 
 cipal colouring and features of his description of a pestilence ait.ong 
 cattle (Georg. iii. 478566) from Lucretius's picture of the Athenian 
 plague, rests on very slight foundation. Virgil may have been in- 
 duced 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. 580 617) also, like his great predecessors, 
 gives a description of the plague which attacked the Roman 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 tongue 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 light could bear, 
 Sunk in deep 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 CEdipus, Act i. 
 
 Thomson has a passage on the effects of pestilence, Summer, ver. 
 1026, seq. 
 
 Boccacio, in his description 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 " Brambletye House ;" Mrs. Shelley's " Last 
 Man;" Ainsworth's "Old Saint Paul's."
 
 LUCRETIUS 
 
 OH 
 
 THE NATUKE OF THINGS. 
 
 METRICALLY TRANSLATED 
 
 BY JOHN MASON GOOD. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 PARENT 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 flow'rets : 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 LUCRETILS. BOOK I. 
 
 Aught gay or lovely ; thee I woo to guide k 3 
 
 Aright ray flowing song, that aims to paint 
 
 To MEMMIUS' view the ESSENCES OF THINGS : 
 
 MEMMTUS, my friend, by thee, from earliest youth, 
 
 O goddess ! led, and trained to every grace. 
 
 Then, 0, 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 MARS, 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 MEMMII ! 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 THINGS. 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, spurning 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, &5 
 
 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 iOO 
 
 Of regal birth ; and vain that first herself 
 Lisped the dear name of Father, eldest born. 
 Forced from her suppliant posture, straight she vi;w r ol 
 The altar full prepared : not there to blend 
 Connubial vows, and light the bridal torch ; /05 
 
 But, at the moment when mature in charms,
 
 -30(5 LUCRETIUS. BOOH I. 
 
 While Hymen called aloud, 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 i 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 Hood, 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 Exxius taught, immortal bard, whose brows 130 
 
 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 135 
 
 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 
 Pbssest: his briny tears the bard surveyed, 140 
 
 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 NATURE OF 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, 15C 
 
 Or dire disease, we see, or think we see, 
 Though the dank grave have long their bones inhumed. 
 
 Yet 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 well-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 FROM 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 FROM 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 
 Fierce and most savage, undefined in birth, 
 The field or forest might alike display. 
 Each tree, inconstant to our hopes, would bend 
 x 2
 
 308 LUCBETIUS. 
 
 With foreign fruit : and all things all things yield. 
 Whence but from elemental seeds that act 190 
 
 With truth, 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 month, 
 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 fa^ts 
 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 NATcRE 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, with 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, still firm at base, 
 Material things have stood, then must that base 270
 
 810 LTJCHETJUS. HOOK T> 
 
 Exist immortal, and the fates defy. 
 
 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 o'erflow 
 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 
 
 I 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 L 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 
 All 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 ODOUHS ? 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 shoie. 
 Lashed by the main, imbibes the briny dew, 
 Dries in the sunbeam : but, alike unseen, 
 Falls the moist ether, or again flies off 350 
 
 Entire, abhorrent of the red-eyed noon.
 
 312 LUCRETIUS. BOOK T. 
 
 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 yield ; 
 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. 39C 
 
 True, things are solid deemed : but know that those
 
 BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 3J3 
 
 Deemed so the most are rare and uncon joined. 
 
 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. If 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 varying forms, 
 Whence springs alone the power of motion first.
 
 514 LUCRETIUS. BOOK L 
 
 When force mechanic severs, and, abrupt, 
 Drives two broad bodies distant, quick between 
 Flows the light air, and fills the vacuum formed. *_35 
 
 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, 
 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 47C 
 
 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 OF THINGS. 315 
 
 In reasoning lost, to every doubt a prey. 
 
 And were not SPACE, were vacuum not allow'd, 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 4SO 
 
 A substance forming discrepant from each. 
 Search where thou wilt, whate'er 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. 485 
 
 But if intangible, throughout if still 
 To matter pervious, act where'er it may, 
 "Pis 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 SI-ACE 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 tilings, 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 Tt/ORETTUS. 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 TROT, 
 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 oonquest, 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 PRIAM'S realm. 
 Mark, then, how different FACTS exist and blend 
 From VOID or MATTER ; and how j ustly 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, fill'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
 
 BXK I. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 317 
 
 Demand the verse, the muse shall briefly prove 
 
 The seeds, the principles of matter all 555 
 
 Both solid, 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 wilt, 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 filling, 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
 
 LUCRETIUS. BOOK L 
 
 All had returned to nothing whence it sprang, 595 
 
 And from that nothing all again revived. 
 
 But since from nothing nought can ever rise, 
 
 As proved above, 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 615 
 
 To forms denned 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, 625 
 
 The close- compacted flint, or aught besides, 
 Of equal texture, traced through Nature's realm V 
 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 varying rank, her varying laws ; 
 Urging to this, from that restraining firm. 
 Nought suffers change: the feathery tribes of heaven 635
 
 BOOK T. ON THE NATURE OF TUINOS. 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 s t ods, 
 
 Is proved immutable : for if, o'ercome 
 
 By aught of foreign forca those seeds could change, 640 
 
 All would be doubtful ; nDr 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 
 
 Di i 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 OF 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 :
 
 S20 LUCRETIUS. BOOK J. 
 
 And solid, lience, and of eternal date. 
 
 Hence seeds arise, the last, least parts conceived 
 Of actual being: the extremes! points 
 To which creative Nature all resolves. C80 
 
 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. 680 
 
 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, 69o 
 Chief of his sect, and fearless in the fight, 
 Famed HERACLITUS ; by the learn'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 :
 
 bOOlt I. ON THE NATURE 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 den Fa, 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 commixt with void. 
 
 But should it still, perchance, be urged, that fires 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 FIRE. 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK L 
 
 Those senses chief that sever true from 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 AIR who strive 76o 
 As source of all ; or those the dimpling STREAM 
 Who fondly fancy ; or the ponderous EARTH, 
 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 EARTH ; 
 Or those the whole who join, FIRE, ETHER, EARTH, 
 And pregnant SHOWERS, and thence the world deduce. 
 Thus sung 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 AEOLIAN fields, divides 
 With narrow frith that spurns the impetuous surge. 78C 
 Here vast CHARYBDIS raves : here JETNA 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 Icre, 
 That scarce mankind believed thee born 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 OF THINGS. 323 
 
 And greatly wandered in attempt so great. 8CKV 
 
 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 frameo. 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, 
 Whate'er 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 flows 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 LUCBETirt. BOOK L 
 
 Mutual they gender, must, 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, and heaven's bright fires 
 Maintain that all proceeds : that fire drawn hence 846 
 Converts to ether, ether into showers, 
 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 ; 855 
 
 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. 86C 
 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 kinds, 
 By different tastes discerned : and differ thus, 
 And only thus, as formed from various seeds, 
 To all things common, but in various modes 380 
 
 Ombined, and fitted to each rising want.
 
 BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OF 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, all are hence derived: 880 
 
 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, 
 IN ow 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, 
 If 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, 91 
 
 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 LUCRETIUS. 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. 
 If, then, each food be compound, if commixt 
 With miniatures of all, 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 all 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 pond'rous mill-stone's mighty orb 
 The crumbling corn 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 ; 9oo 
 
 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 NATURE OP 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 blaze, and burn 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 
 Burns 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, 
 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 LUCRETIUS. iOOK 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, while the flowing verse 
 
 Unfolds the nature, and the forms of things. 
 
 Taught then, already that material seeds 1010 
 
 Are solid, 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, 
 Tli' acceded bound is gained, I'll 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 confined, 
 Thus circumscribed precise, from its own weight 
 Long since, all matter to the extremes! depth 
 Had sunk supine : nor aught the skies beneath, 
 Nor skies themselves, with countless stars adorned 104
 
 BOOK I. ON 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. 1055 
 
 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, still, 
 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, from 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 L 
 
 At length th' unwieldy mass the form assumed 
 
 Of things created. Persevering, thus, 
 
 Through many an age, unnumbered springs the deep 
 
 Feed with perpetual tides : by the warm sun 1090 
 
 Sustained, and cherished, earth renews her fruits, 
 
 And man, and beast survive ; and ether glows 
 
 With living lights innum'rous : scenes throughout 
 
 'TVere vain t' expect, from all eternal time, 
 
 Had no primordial 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, be oft restrained, and e'en perchance, 
 
 Their flight delayed, till, from th' exhaustless store, 
 
 Fresh seeds arrive the fainting frame to feed : 1 105 
 
 But from concussion, frequent, they rebound, 
 
 Dissolve all tie, and leave to transient rest 
 
 The common matter whence each substance springs. 
 
 Hence must incalculable seeds exist 
 
 Ceaseless in act ; and the vast whole derive 111) 
 
 Alone from boundless 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, 1 120 
 
 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 1 25 
 
 From their firm station, down their deeper skies 
 As unexposed to fall, as towards the heavens
 
 BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 331 
 
 Ourselves to mount sublime : by them the sun, 
 
 When night to us unfolds his stars, surveyed ; 
 
 And equal measuring, in alternate course, 11 30 
 
 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 1 35 
 
 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 pond'rous, as their varying weight compels ; 1 1 40 
 
 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, 1 145 
 
 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 ; the 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 1155 
 
 Of herbs, and trees, and animated life, 
 From her own bosom nurtured, and sustained. 
 Thus, too, they teach that heaven, with bound sublime, 
 Encircles all things, lest the world's wide walls, 
 And all enveloped, volatile as flame, 1160 
 
 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 dissev'ring frame, 
 Mixt with the rushing wreck of earth, and skies, 1165 
 Waste through all space profound ; till nought remain, 
 Nought, in a moment, of all now surveyed, 
 But one blank VOID, one mass of seeds inert.
 
 2 LUCRETIUS. BtX)R n. 
 
 For once to act, when primal atoms fail, 
 
 Fail where they may, the doors of death are ope, 1 1 "JT. 
 
 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 
 Shine as the day : so things irradiate things. ll~-5 
 
 BOOK IL 
 
 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, 
 I 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. ON THE NATURE OF THING8. 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. 
 I On down reclined, or wrapped in purple robe, 
 
 The thirsty fever burns with heat as fierce 35 
 
 I 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-born 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 truth's pure light 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 LUCRETIUi. BOOK fl. 
 
 Indissoluble, 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 103 
 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 NATURE OF THINGS. 335 
 
 Far wandering through the void, of feebler link 1 10 
 
 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 1 45 
 
 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 first Aurora, o'er the dewy earth, 
 Spreads her soft light, and through the pathless grove 150
 
 336 LUCRETIUS. BOOK O. 
 
 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. 155 
 
 But the bright fluid, the pure stream he throws, 
 
 Flows not without resistance ; many a wave, 
 
 Through space profound, ethereal checks its fligbt; 
 
 And many a self-engendered power perverse, 
 
 Reared from its complex frame : perpetual hence 160 
 
 Lags the light fluid, doomed to double strife. 
 
 But primal atoms, firm 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, 
 Gay 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, 180 
 
 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 Memmius ! mark this precept well ; 
 That nought corporeal, of itself, can e'er 190 
 
 Ascend sublime through regions urged above.
 
 BOOK H. ON THE NATURE OF 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' affrighted house, the crackling 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, 
 And thus the repercussive war commence,
 
 338 LCCBETIU8. BOOK n. 
 
 Far err they from the truth. For though, when urged 
 Through the pure air, or clear translucent wave, 23 
 
 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, 
 Tho 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, ajid, at once, 
 Flies the fleet motion through th' assenting frame. 
 Dost thou not see, as down the barrier drops 270 
 
 That leins the racer, instant though he dart, 
 Not half so instant darts he as his soul 
 AmbitiAis Covets ? Deep through all his frame 
 Th' elastic nerves must first the wish convey
 
 BvX)K n. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 339 
 
 Ere yet the consentaneous flight succeed. 275 
 
 Hence, obvious, springs all motion from the heart, 
 
 Roused 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 unfixt, 
 
 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 seed* 3*6 
 z 2
 
 340 LUCRETIUS. BOOK H 
 
 Move on incessant, and, through different forms, 
 
 Rouse different actions, the vast whole to sense 
 
 Rests undisturbed. For far beyond all ken, 
 
 Lies the prime base impalpable of things. 
 
 As this eludes all vision, so, alike, 020 
 
 Its motion too elude. E'en oft the sight 
 
 No motion marks where still the moving scene 
 
 Springs obvious, by 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 calls 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. 
 
 Come 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 
 Must 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 H. 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 
 
 O'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, 365 
 
 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 horned dams, 375 
 
 Lured by the milky fount that nurtures life. 
 
 The corn, 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 
 Rear 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
 
 342 LUCRETIUS. BOOK II. 
 
 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.
 
 UOOK II. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. J43 
 
 For TOUCH, O TOUCH ! ye powers of heaven supreme ! 
 TOUCH forms the genuine sense whence chief we trace 440 
 Whate'er 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 
 Rotund, 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 fitted still the fluent mass to form. 
 This to confirm, to prove with polished seed? 
 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. 180 
 
 Thus Nature acts : through many a thirsty sand 
 
 The surge she filters, freshening 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 unfrequent, else, 
 Full many a seed must boast a bulk immense : 
 For many a differing 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 diifer endless, or e'en once evince 
 A bulk immense, as erst the Muse has proved. 
 
 Already else the purple woof superb 
 Of MELIBCEA, 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<EKUS 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 frost, 
 All, all has limits : heat and cold intense 320
 
 BOOK II. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 345 
 
 Th' extremes creating ; while progressive warmth 
 
 Fills up, between, the modulated 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 chained. 
 
 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 unprolific power : yet foreign climes, 
 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 born, 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 fury, many a mighty ship 
 Wrecks ruthless, and towards every coast impels 
 Masts, yards, and streamers, cordage, sails, and helms, 560 
 A.nd planks disparted, teaching as they float
 
 346 LUCBETIUS. BOOK II, 
 
 What dangers lurk unseen ; what snares to lure 
 
 Unthinking mortals ; and forewarning loud 
 
 To fly the smooth temptation, nor e'en once 
 
 Trust the false waves, though decked in loudest laugh : 565 
 
 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 morn 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 .^Etna, blazing to the day : 
 And holds each embryon, whence, to glad mankind, 600 
 Springs the gay corn, the blossomed fruit-tree springs, 
 Or whence the brutal tribes that roam at large
 
 BOOK n. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS 
 
 Draw their green banquets, and possess their shades. 
 Hence mighty MOTHER OF TH' IMMORTAL GODS, 
 Of brutes, and men, is EARTH full frequent feigned. 
 
 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 
 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. 
 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. 
 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, 
 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, 
 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 
 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 
 CURETES called, from PHRYGIAN parents sprung, 
 Sport with fantastic chains, the measured dance 
 Weaving infuriate, charmed with human blood,
 
 348 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IT. 
 
 And madly shaking their tremendous crests. 
 
 These picture, haply, the DICT^AN train, 646 
 
 Alike CURETES termed, as fame reports, 
 
 Who drowned the infant cries of JOVE in CRETE, 
 
 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^EA 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, alike 
 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. 68C 
 
 Such the vast variance of primordial seeds ; 
 Through every herb, through every fountain such. 
 Eacli form, moreo'er, of animated life 
 Compounded, flows from muscle, bone, and
 
 BOOK n. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 349 
 
 Vein, heat, and moisture ; 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 diffused 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 725
 
 350 LUCRETIUS. BOOK O. 
 
 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. 
 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, moreover, 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 IL OX THE NATURE OF THINGS. 351 
 
 Jhit 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 78o 
 
 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 a shape 
 Diverse unites to rear its frame 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. SOO 
 
 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, 
 Were hues essential to the seeds of things 
 These, too, would die in darkness : for, resolve.
 
 352 LUCRETIUS BOOK U. 
 
 What hues exist beneath the midnight gloom ? 
 
 Hues born of sun-beams, changing but their slides 
 
 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 blue, 
 
 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, whate'er the hue evinced, 
 Whence flows it, then, that every class alike 
 Reflects not every tincture ? whence that crows 830 
 
 Robe not in white from seeds that white create ? 
 Or that the downy swan, in black arrayed, 
 Or hues as hideous, ne'er the sight appals ? 
 
 As things, moreo'er, 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.
 
 " "' . . -: 
 
 HBBMOBC, snit num. ^utae. TIL 
 3Snr umnc if iuain iui 
 
 ;;.. v 
 
 OH 
 
 liiiul u 
 
 THT^ 
 
 -i i.-ti-numn 
 
 IT^ Sismi TUT* 
 
 "Ui.-rmr m 
 
 i J~" --' ...- ". v 23 - 
 
 : fiinHBBJL 
 
 - 
 
 - ..-. 
 
 %iMdkvdHC iiws . 
 
 "mm 
 
 ..:.: .. 
 
 TTITSC TI*" 
 
 --^C: T^ffffP^- 
 
 pOTrTT i-. 
 
 . '. :~ . 
 
 ;-. ;-.. 
 
 i x
 
 3o4 LUCRETIUS. BOOK H. 
 
 As through the winter-stack full oft she spreads 890 
 
 The rushing blaze, 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-act, 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 stocks, 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 II. ON THE NATURE 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 
 
 Varying as varies the generic frame. 
 
 Nor urge that sentient seeds, 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 
 
 fHas 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 fire, 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 off 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, 
 
 a A 2
 
 3,56 LUCRETIUS. BOOK II. 
 
 And quell the mighty tumult, and recall, 
 
 From the rude grasp of fate, each active power 
 
 Marshalled anew, and every 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, 99C 
 
 Discussing grave the seeds that rear themselves. 
 For grant this system, and whate'er 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 II. ON THE NATTTBE OP THINGS. 3,57 
 
 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 types, 
 
 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, 
 Gains 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 
 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. 
 Cease, then, alarmed by aught profound, or strange. 
 Right reason to reject ; weigh well the proofs 
 Each scheme advances ; if by truth upheld
 
 353 LUCRETIUS. BOOK 11. 
 
 Embrace the doctrine ; but, if false, 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, till, 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 still 
 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 IL ON THE NATCRK OP 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 1100 
 
 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! whose tranquil lives 1105 
 
 Flow free fro/n care, with ceaseless sunshine blest, 
 Who the vast whole could guide, midst all your ranks ? 
 Who grasp the reins that curb th' ENTIRE OF 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 
 
 ^ Bending the concave ? or, full deep retired, 
 
 Who point, in secret, the mysterious shaft 1115 
 
 That, while the guilty triumphs, prostrates stern 
 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 
 
 I 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 1 3o
 
 360 LUCRETIUS. BOOK n. 
 
 Climbs, by degrees, the scale of life adult, 
 
 Far less emits than what 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, 1150 
 
 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 store received. 
 
 Thus all must perish, unsupplied within, 1155 
 
 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 
 IP 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 1165 
 
 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 vafo :
 
 BOOK UI. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 361 
 
 Where faints the steer, the ploughman 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. 1 1 80 
 
 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. 1185 
 
 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 III. 
 
 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,
 
 862 LUCRETIUS. BOOK Jfl 
 
 All terrors vanish ; the Diue walls of hearcn 
 
 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 30 
 
 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 erst have sung the make minute 
 Of primal seeds ; how, in spontaneous course 35 
 
 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 pare. 
 
 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 sever* 
 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 OF TB1XOS. 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. 65 
 
 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 alanned, 
 Joining the feast some jovial kinsman forms. 75 
 
 From the same source, the same deep dread of death. 
 Springs ENVY 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, 100
 
 364 LUCRETIUS. BOOK 31. 
 
 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 oft 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 m. 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 forma 
 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 knits 
 
 The soul and spirit ; this exciting that, 
 
 And that, when roused, deep-rousing every nerve. 
 
 Hence prove we, too, that both alike exist 170 
 
 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 
 
 Thus, when some deadly dart through many a nerve, 
 Mid many a bone, tremendous, winds its way
 
 366 LUCRETIDS. BOOK m. 
 
 Quick faints the spirit : a fond wish to die 
 
 Now sways, and now the native love of life. 
 
 Material, 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 firm 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, 
 Rotund and light, its mystic make 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 in. ON THE NATUHE OF 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 25C 
 
 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 
 Bouses 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 ofE
 
 368 tUCRETIUS. BOOK in 
 
 Hence less profound descends, in getral 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 ; 30d
 
 BOOK HI. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 
 
 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 &IO 
 
 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 symphonious 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 
 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 
 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. 
 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. 
 
 This frame, moreo'er, alone can never spring, 
 2 B
 
 370 LUCRETIUS. BOOK HI. 
 
 Can never thrive, the dread attack of death 
 
 Can never conquer. For, with aim sublime, 
 
 Though the light vapour from the tepid lymph 
 
 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 flows, 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 ? 365 
 
 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 o'erpowering : 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 335 
 
 . Yield they, less freely through the limbs diffused. 
 Hence may'st thou rather deem the soul's pure seeda
 
 BOOK III. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 371 
 
 Placed at such intervals as just suffice 
 
 To rouse alone when needful, through the frame, 
 
 Percipient motions. 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, 
 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, 
 Light fails immediate, and dread darkness reigns. 
 Such the connexion 'twixt the soul and mind. 
 Now mark profound : to teach thee how this soul, 
 2 B 2
 
 372 LUCRETIUS. BOOK HI. 
 
 This subtle spirit, with th' external frame 
 
 Begot, alike must perish, next the muse 430 
 
 Shall pour forth numbers thine illustrious birth 
 
 Well worthy, and with sweetest labour culled. 
 
 This chief observe, that either phrase assumes 
 
 Here a like import ; and that when we urge 
 
 The soul is mortal, this the mind includes : 435 
 
 Such their joint bond, their close connexion such. 
 
 First, having proved, then, this attenuate power 
 From subtlest atoms reared, minuter far 
 Than those of water, smoke, or buoyant mist, 
 Since much in speed it conquers, and, by force 440 
 
 Far less, is roused to action for full oft 
 E'en the faint phantasms of such forms alone 
 The soul excites, as when, in deep repose, 
 The fragrant altar smokes, and vapours rich 
 Rise to the view a sense, no doubt, induced 445 
 
 From the light phantasms of substantial forms 
 Floating around us this already proved, 
 Judge next, since lymph when bursts th' enclosing vase, 
 Flows at each fracture, since fugacious smoke, 
 Since vapours vanish into viewless air, 450 
 
 Judge how the soul must dissipate amain, 
 How sooner perish, and its primal seeds 
 Speedier dissolve, when once the flesh they quit. 
 For since this flesh, the vase the soul that bounds, 
 Bounds it no more when bruised by foreign force, 455 
 
 Or of its life-blood robbed, how canst thou deem 
 Th' unsolid ether, or that aught more rare 
 Than flesh itself, the soul can e'er confine ? 
 
 The mind, moreo'er, as every hour confirms, 
 Springs with the body, with the body grows, 460 
 
 And yields alike to years. The tottering babe, 
 Weakly of limb, betrays a mind as weak : 
 But, as his strength matures, his vigorous soul 
 Ripens in reason, till in equal hour, 
 
 As age o'ercomes, and every organ fails, 465 
 
 Fail too his mental powers : then raves the tongue, 
 The judgment raves, the total man declines, 
 And, in a moment, all alike expires. 
 Hence the whole nature of this reasoning frame
 
 aOOK ill. ON THE NA1PRE OF THINGS. 375 
 
 Must all dissolve, as smoke in ambient air, 47C 
 
 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 j udgi3nt 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 from his inmost breast, with wontless toil, 510
 
 374 LUCSETIUS. BOOK 133. 
 
 Confused, and harsh, articulation 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, 515 
 
 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 
 
 Feels 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. 50 
 
 Yet grant the converse, and the soul allow
 
 BOOK in. 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, moreo'er, 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. 565 
 
 So to the body cleaves th' adhesive mind. 
 The vital power, moreo'er, 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. 
 
 Hence doubly flows 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, 59< 
 
 Canst thou, then, doubt the soul, when thus effused, 
 Like smoke flics total, every seed disperst?
 
 376 LUCRETIUS. BOOK TOL 
 
 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 limb, 
 
 From every membrane 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 
 Rush 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 froat.
 
 BOOK III. ON THE NATURE OF 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 bards renowned 
 Of ancient times thoughtless that eyes, and nose, 640 
 And hands, and mouth, to the divided soul 
 Can ne'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 witli the mangled body. But what thus 
 Admits partition, and to foreign force 
 Yields e'en but once, immortal ne'er can be. 
 
 Oft, arra'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 ITI. 
 
 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 ini'used, 
 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, vessels, 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 7 1 5
 
 BOOK 111. ON THE NATURE OF 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, 730 
 
 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 equal passions traced at large, 
 From life's first dawn, generic, through each class?
 
 380 LUCRETIUS BOOK TU 
 
 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 brute 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, chu.iis a prior right.
 
 3>OOK m. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 3&t 
 
 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, ?15 
 
 Is full delirium. Can there be conceived 
 Aught more unmeet, incongruous, or absurd, 
 Than with a mortal that a frame should mix 
 Immortal, dooui'd to all its weight of woe ? 
 
 What lives immortal, too, must so exist, 320 
 
 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 III. 
 
 The mental frame may crumble, and dissolve ; 
 
 Hence not precluded from the gates of death. H40 
 
 But should'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 845 
 
 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 consumes, 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, 855 
 Since with the body thus the soul decays. 
 And as we now, through long anterior time, 
 Look back inditferent 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 scnJe 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 865 
 
 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 III. ON THE NATURE OP 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 sense 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 born, 
 
 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 920
 
 884 LUCRETIUS. BOOK HI. 
 
 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 urn 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 ma"? 
 
 Yet mar it does. E'en o'er the festi /e 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 ;
 
 3OOK m. ON THE NATURE OF 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 OF 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 tliis from that matures ; nor aught descends 
 2 c
 
 586 LUCRETIUS. BOOK m. 
 
 To the dread gulfs, the fancied shades of hell. 
 
 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, moreover, how less than nought to us 1010 
 
 Weighs the long portion of eternal time 
 Fled ere our birth : so, too, the future weighs 
 When death dissolves us. What of horror, then, 
 Dwell* there in death ? what gloomy, what austere ? 
 Can there be elsewhere slumber half so sound ? 1015 
 
 I 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 they 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 TITTUS, and by vultures torn, 
 Whose anxious breast the rage of love devours ; 
 Or aught of passion equal in its force. 1 030 
 
 Here, too, is Sisyphus the man who pants 
 For public honours, and the giddy cro\vd 
 Caresses ever, ever but in vain. 
 For thus to toil for power, itself at best 
 A bubble, and that bubble ne'er to boast, 103o 
 
 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, ana endless beauties, while themselves
 
 BOOK III. ON THE NATURE OB 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 FURIES, CERBERUS, and HELL itself 
 Of light devoid, and belching from its jaws 
 Tremendous fires, live not, nor can they live: 1060 
 
 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 cliff? 
 Which, though the villain 'scape, his conscious soul 105o 
 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, retii'ed : ANCUS 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 days ? 
 2 c
 
 388 LUCRETTUa. BOOK HI. 
 
 And, e'en awake, who snorest, dreaming still, 1085 
 
 And torturing all thy mind with vain alarms ? 
 Thou ! who lamentest, oft, unknowing why, 
 Urged on, with fear intoxicated deep, 
 , And in a maze of mental errors lost ? 
 
 Did men but think, and oft to think they seem, 1090 
 That from themselves their heaviest sorrows rise, 
 And knew they too whence thus themselves create 
 These bosom sufferings seldom should we see 
 Life spent as now each passing hour portrays. 
 All pant perpetual for they know not what, 1095 
 
 Nor learn by searching changing their abodes, 
 As though the change would leave their load behind. 
 
 This, from mere listlessness, his mansion flies ; 
 Straight he returns ; 'tis listless all abroad. 
 That to his villa posts, with rapid wheels, 1 100 
 
 As though the building were in flames, and called 
 His instant aid. No sooner treads his foot 
 The sounding hall, than, on the sofa thrown, 
 He yawns 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 clear 
 The wanderer traced, his restless soul, at once 1 1 10 
 
 The world forsaking, and the world's vain boasts, 
 Would scan THE NATURE OF CREATED THINGS. 
 For little weighs the passing hour of time 
 When with eternity compared, that state 
 Which, after death, to mortals 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, 1120 
 
 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, 1125
 
 BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 389 
 
 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. 1 130 
 
 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. V 1 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 PIERIAN 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, 25
 
 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 fly, 
 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 GO 
 
 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 OF 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 x 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, superficial 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. 
 
 The main, moreo'er, the mirror, or anght 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IT. 
 
 Hence effigies there are from all things poured 
 
 Of nice resemblance, and the fairest web ; 
 
 Which, though, when single, from the sight concealed, 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 prove, 
 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. 398 
 
 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 160 
 
 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 1WS 
 
 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 j
 
 394 LUCRETIUS. 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 minute, 
 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 fills 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 NATURE OF THINGS. 3&5 
 
 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 percehes, 
 
 Where'er his station, sight alike exists, 235 
 
 The sense of fluent odours, and of sounds. 
 
 And as, moreo'er, th' essaying hand decides 
 Oft in the dark an object as precise 
 As the keen eye at mid-day, hence 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 tell 
 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 availed.
 
 896 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 275 
 
 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 reflected 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
 
 TUB NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 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 
 Burns with the fiery particles contained. 
 
 The jaundiced thus, not unaccordant, see 
 All clad in yellow, many a yellow seed 
 Forced from their frames, thr semblances of thing?
 
 S98 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IV. 
 
 Accosting frequent ; and the lurid eye, 
 
 Deep, too, imbued with its contagious hue, 355 
 
 Painting each image that its disc assails. 
 
 Things in the light, though in the dark ourselves, 
 We mark conspicuous ; for as the black air 
 Adjoining, first usurps th' expanded eye, 
 Quick flows th' illumined tide, from 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 clears, 
 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, 
 Fills 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 aagle flies the prying sight, 380 
 
 Cylindric seems the structure, distant far 
 From the true circle, but cylindric still. 
 
 The shade, moreo'er, 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 must 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 stream*
 
 BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 399 
 
 Of new-born radiance that for ever flow 395 
 
 Die instant, as the filaments of wool 
 
 In fiercest flames, by 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 alone 
 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 provos 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'er 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IT 
 
 As bends o'er earth th' ethereal vault sublime : 
 
 Where may'st thou trace the flitting clouds, the heavens, 
 
 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 still smiles : though close pent up,
 
 BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF TniNCHS. 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 knowa 
 E'en this, thus owning that he nothing knows. 
 With such I ne'er could reason, who, with face 490 
 
 .Retorted, 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, born 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 boasts, 
 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, 
 W T ith their light shades, appropriate thus alike 
 Perceive we ; tastes appropriate powers possess j 
 Appropriate, sounds and odours: and hence, too, 515 
 
 One sense another ne'er can contravene, 
 Nor e'en correct itself; since, every hour, 
 2 o
 
 402 LUCRETItTS. BOOK IV. 
 
 Iii every act each claims an equal 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, spurning what is safe. 530 
 
 Hence all against the senses urged is vain, 
 
 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, 535 
 
 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 throng 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, 
 Wiio from the dawn harangues till night's black shade ; 
 How doubly wastes if loud th' oration urged.
 
 BOOK IT. 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 its 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 death, 
 
 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, 58.3 
 W r astes 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, 
 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 o9i 
 
 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IV. 
 
 Breaking the noiseless silence; while soft strains GOO 
 
 Melodious issue, and the vocal band 
 Strike to their madrigals the plaintive lyre. 
 Such, feign they, sees the shepherd, obvious oft, 
 / Led on by PAN, with pine-leaf garland crowned, 
 I 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, moreo'er, 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 
 O'erflows 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 IV. ON THE NATURE OF 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. 6-45 
 
 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 spittle 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 all 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 
 Pierce 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 : 
 
 'For both in all things lurk, as urged above, 
 
 E'en in the sweets Hyblasan honey boasts. 
 
 But come, for ODOURS call us, and the powers 
 That sway th' obsequious nostrils. Odours fin?, 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 varying 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 
 Qxcites the dubious nostrils ; and hence, too, 
 Oft the fleet pack wide wanders mid the chase. 72C 
 
 Nor tastes alone, nor odours different strike 
 The different tribes percipient ; the light hues,
 
 BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OP 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOTS. TV. 
 
 Rousing the mind, soon roused, since reared itaeli' 
 
 Of subtlest texture, and vivacious most. 765 
 
 Thus all with ease developes. As the mind 
 Sees but the features sight surveyed before, 
 Each into act some equal cause must prompt. 
 Since the fierce lion, as the muse has taught, 
 Sight, then, surveys from semblances alone, 7*0 
 
 Nought but mere semblances the mind can rouse ; 
 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 memory 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, from 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 different themes employ the thoughtful mind ?
 
 BOOK IV ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 409 
 
 Whence, too, those graceful attitudes, in turn, 805 
 
 The changeful phantoms oft in dreams disclose ? 
 The flexile 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 
 
 Rush 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 different age, 
 And features fresh, while still oblivion deep, 840 
 
 And languid rest restrain us from surprise. 
 
 Yet fly abhorrent, here, with vigour fly 
 Their creed who hold that every organ sprang 
 To use self-destined : that the pupil rose 
 Conscious of vifiion ; that the legs, the thighs 845
 
 410 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IV. 
 
 On tlie 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 8o5 
 
 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 all 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. 9&5 
 
 So foods are claimed the languid limbs to brace,
 
 BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OP 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 flows. 
 
 Hence dies the raging hunger ; and the thirst, 
 
 Panting no more, is drowned in fluent 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 care,
 
 112 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IV. 
 
 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 power 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 
 In 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 all 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 
 Ja the deep vitals, and in part still roams 
 Through all the limbs distracted, seed from seed
 
 BOOK IV. ON THE NATURE OF THING*. 413 
 
 Severed, to join all powerless, or resume 
 
 Their wonted action ; hence each varying sense, 970 
 
 The fount sensorial failing, must itself 
 
 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. 005 
 
 Of such vast import are the plans pursued, 
 The thoughts indulged, the customs deep impressed 
 Of man not merely, but of brutes as well. 
 For the nerved steed, as o'er the glebe he lies, 
 Oft sweats, and pants laborious in his sleep, 1010
 
 4 LUCRETIUS. BOOK IV 
 
 As though amain contending for the palm. 
 
 So, too, the hound, amid his soft repose, 
 Oft starts abrupt, and howls, and snuffs the breeze 
 With ceaseless nostrils, as though full 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 unfrequent, 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 10-10 
 
 Awoke, of reason so bereft, the mind 
 Scarce with the day resumes its wonted reign. 
 
 While, oft, the dreamer, all athirst, o'erhangs 
 Some joyous stream, and drinks the total tide. 
 So boys asleep, too, deeming near at hand 10-15 
 
 The public sewer, or close appropriate vase, 
 Oft lift their skirts the native brine t' eject, 
 And stain with saffron all the purple bed. 
 
 As the remaining portion of Good's Translation of this book has alrecury 
 been given at page 182, it has been deemed unnecessary io reprint it in itt 
 place liere.
 
 BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 415 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 WHO, from his 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 MEMMIDS ! he who first 
 
 The rules of life devised, now termed by all, 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, 
 NEM.EA'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 to 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 ? 
 What woes could these now menace ? or the birds 
 With huge, uncleanly talons that defiled 3 
 
 The clime of ARCADY ? or, feller still, 
 Th' enormous dragon that, with eye severe, 
 Clung round the tree of vegetable gold,
 
 416 LUCTIETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 And in HESPERIA kept the glittering fruit ? 
 
 How now could such affect us ? fixt remote 40 
 
 O'er boundless s>eas, beyond th' ATLANTIC shores. 
 
 Where never mortal else, refined or rude, 
 
 Dared urge his desperate sail ? E'en though alive, 
 
 TJnconquered 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 the mind unpurged, what tumults dire, 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 65 
 
 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 T ON THE NATUTCE OF THING 8. 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, 
 Conceives, 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. 
 
 First, 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. I iO 
 
 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 1 15 
 
 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 K
 
 418 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 Some salutary precepts would I add, 
 
 Lest, chained by superstition, thou should'st deem 
 
 Heaven, earth, and ocean, sun, moon, stars exist 
 
 Gods in their frame, and of eternal date, 
 
 And fear for those the vengeance that pursued 125 
 
 The race gigantic, who, with lettered lore, 
 
 Shake the world's walls, the radiant eye of heaven 
 
 Quench, and th' immortals sketch in mortal terms. 
 
 For these, 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, 135 
 
 Nor in the fields can fishes e'er exist ; 
 Nor blood in planks, nor vital juice in stones ; 
 But all springs definite in scenes denned. 
 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 woi 
 Till sprang th' illumined world ? or, if ne'er born, 
 What cause could man have marshalled for complaint ? 185 
 Born, 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
 
 420 LUCRETIUS BOOK V. 
 
 That nought stupendous seems it they, at length, 
 Should gain those stations, those connexions gain, 
 Whence sprang th' Entire of all things, and subsists. 205 
 
 E'en 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 
 With ills so gross, so palpable to sight. 210 
 
 First, all beneath th' ethereal cope's wide whirl 
 What Mils rapacious rise ! what woods beset 
 With tribes ferocious ! what uncultured rocks ! 
 How stretch the stagnant lakes, of life devoid, 
 And the vast main that severs shore from shore I 215 
 
 Then torrid heat, too, and perpetual frost 
 Shut from mankind near half the solid earth : 
 While what of glebe remains, from power innate 
 So throngs with briers, human art can scarce 
 The growth restrain ; by love of life led on 220 
 
 O'er the tough spade, or delving plough to groan : 
 For if the share we thrust not through the soil, 
 Subjecting earth, and rearing for ourselves 
 The stores demanded, birth were never theirs. 
 Yet e'en, at times, when, sought by long fatigue, 225 
 
 With flowers and foliage laughs the total scene, 
 Th' ethereal sun with rage untempered burns, 
 Or showers abrupt destroy, or biting frosts, 
 Or the wild winds with winnow too severe. 
 
 And why, moreo'er, in ocean, or on earth, 230 
 
 Does nature nourish, and the tribes augment 
 Of savage brutes and monsters ? why renew 
 Diseases with the seasons ? and with deaths 
 Green and untimely thin the race of man ? 
 
 Then the poor babe, too, like a sea-man wrecked 235 
 Thrown from the waves, lies naked o'er the ground, 
 Weakly and void of every vital aid, 
 When nature first, amid his mother's pangs, 
 Casts the young burden on the realms of light ; 
 And leaves to pine full sore, as well he may, 240 
 
 That e'er the suffering lot of life were his. 
 While herds, meantime, and beasts of various name, 
 Flourish at ease ; no rattles they require,
 
 BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 421 
 
 No broken lullaby of dandling nurse, 
 
 Nor varying dress adapted to the day : 245 
 
 Nor arms they need, nor garners to protect 
 
 Their hoarded treasures, earth and nature boon 
 
 To each acceding every latent wish. 
 
 And since earth, ocean, heat's redundant stream, 
 And the light spirits of the gentle airs, 250 
 
 Whence chief the world is reared, of frames consist 
 Create and mortal, mortal and create 
 Must, too, the total woi'ld itself be deemed. 
 For where we see the separate parts of things 
 Of figures formed, now rising, now destroyed, 255 
 
 There see we, too, the mass those parts compose 
 Must have alike an origin and end. 
 So, where we view the world's chief members rise, 
 And waste alternate, heaven and earth we hold 
 Erst was created and must soon decay. 260 
 
 Nor here, O MEMMIUS ! unconfirmed by proof 
 Deem we maintain that earth, or ether pure, 
 Moisture or heat, are perishable all ; 
 Reviving still, and urged to growth mature. 
 For much of earth perpetual suns to dust 265 
 
 Burn most impalpable ; and much the tread 
 Of ceaseless traffic into clouds compels, 
 Blown by the winds o'er all the void of heaven. 
 While part, if glebe, the rushing rains dissolve, 
 Or restless tides, if formed of bank abrupt. .270 
 
 Whate'er, moreo'er, some other substance feeds 
 Itself must waste proportioned ; whence, since earth 
 The common parent lives, and grave of all, 
 She, too, alike must dwindle and augment. 
 
 Then that the fountains, floods, and boundless main 275 
 Swell with new waters from perpetual springs, 
 Words need not prove ; the lavish streams that flow 
 Still undiminished, turn where'er we may, 
 This, of themselves, demonstrate ; while above 
 Mounts all excess attenuate as it forms. 280 
 
 For part the bickering winds brush ceaseless, part 
 The sun exhales ethereal, and through earth 
 Part still retreats, and, percolated pure, 
 Fresff bubbles distant at some fountain-head :
 
 422 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V, 
 
 Whence winds again the dulcet tide through paths 285 
 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, born from things, to things air still returns 
 Ceaseless, as prove their fluctuating forms. 
 
 Than, too, th' ethereal sun, exhaustless fount 2f 5 
 
 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 NATURE 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 flouiiished firm 
 
 From time eternal, they had flourished 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 whate'er augments 335 
 
 Aught else, and nurtures, must itself decrease, 
 Repaired alone by matters 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 OP 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 Like those whom NATURE 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 anterior 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 modes, 
 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 PHOSBUS 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 burn 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V 
 
 Nor heaven, nor earth, nor air, nor ocean lived, 
 
 Nor aught of prospect mortal sight surveys ; 450 
 
 But one vast chaos boisterous, and confused. 
 
 Yet order hence began ; the mingled mass 
 
 Unveiled its various powers ; congenial parts 
 
 Parts joined congenial ; and the rising world 
 
 Gradual evolved : its mighty members each 455 
 
 From each divided, and matured complete 
 
 From seeds appropriate ; whose wild discord erst, 
 
 Reared by their strange diversities of form, 
 
 With ruthless war so broke their proper paths, 
 
 Their motions, intervals, conjunctions, weights, 460 
 
 And repercussions, nought of genial act 
 
 Till now could follow, nor the seeds themselves, 
 
 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 clung, 
 And towards the centre conglobating sunk. 
 And, as the bond grew firmer, ampler forth 470 
 
 Pressed they 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 differing 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 45o 
 
 Fluent it rose, concreted, and a bound 
 Gradual assumed, and, thus assuming, grasped 
 In its vast compass all th' evolving wo^ld. 
 
 Then mounted, next, the base of sun, and moon,
 
 BOOK V. ON THE 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 eartw 
 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 hoflow 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. 5 1C 
 
 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 revolve 530
 
 428 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V 
 
 Round the fixt earth, some subtle gas, perchance, 
 Bounds it on all sides, and with two-fold stream, 
 Whirls round its poles ; the current urged above 
 Steering the course the gliding planets point, 
 Themselves hence soon propelled ; while that below 535 
 Flows adverse, and the nether sphere drives on, 
 As drives the tide the mill's unwearied wheel. 
 
 Yet, if unmoved the heavenly orb we deem, 
 Its fires may still revolve : some restless seeds 
 Of all-elastic ether, close pent up, 540 
 
 Panting for ease, may agitate their balls, 
 And round the sky's refulgent concave whirl. 
 Or air absorbed extrinsic may, alike, 
 With restless rage compel them ; or themselves 
 Each choose his various path as food invites, 545 
 
 Their lucid lamps recruiting through the heavens. 
 But of these causes which in this world rules 
 'Tis hard t' affirm ; whence rather here we teach ' 
 What through th* ENTIRE OP NATURE may subsist 
 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 NATURE 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 575 
 Earth feels the dread concussion, and rebounds ; 
 Effect 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 throwa 
 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, 
 Since traced precise through e'en her utmost orb, 
 Must prove the sphere the sight descries sublime. 605 
 
 Th' ethereal stars, moreo'er since lights terrace 
 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. <UO 
 
 Nor deem it strange that so minute a sun 
 Should pour forth flame sufficient heaven to fill,
 
 430 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 And earth, and ocean, and whate'er exists 
 
 Tinge with its glittering dew ; for, from abroad 
 
 The myriad seeds of fire dispersed at large 615 
 
 Through all things, here as to their fountain 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 oft, 
 
 Of amplest breadth, and all their glebe o'erflows ? 620 
 
 Or the small globe of solar flame, perchance, 
 Th' effusive air may fire, than aught besides 
 Ignited easier by th' impinging ray ; 
 As oft some casual spark the field inflames 
 Of full-ripe corn, 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 turn, 
 Reclimbs the heavens, and, from the red crab, pours 
 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 affixed, 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 NATURE 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 drives his restless axle earth beneath, 
 That, through the day, propelled his orb sublime. 
 
 Then the young MORNING, 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 projected 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 At punctual seasons all alike recur. 695 
 
 For as the train of causes first uprose, 
 And the young world its earliest features found, 
 Things follow things in order most exact. 
 
 And day elongates, and the night contracts, 
 And night augments, and day curtails its course, < 0C 
 
 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 day assimilate their reigns. 
 For, in the central realms 'twixt north and south, 
 His utmost wanderings, midway, heaven divides : 
 So traverse winds the star-enamelled path 
 Through which his mazy steps the seasons lead, VlO 
 
 With ray oblique illuming earth and sky. 
 For thus they hold the heavenly orb who mark 
 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. ' 25 
 
 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
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 433 
 
 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 oelf-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 745 
 
 The schools of GREECE t' o'erpower, as though the creeds 
 
 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 prevails, 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 light ? 
 2 F
 
 434 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V 
 
 Why may not, too, in time and place prescribed, 
 
 The sun himself grow languid, his bright beam 
 
 Powerless to pour, till now the spot he pass 
 
 That thus obstructs his glory and renews ? 780 
 
 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<3 
 
 Rushing, can quench the ray profusely dealt ? 
 So, if the moon herself be lustrous, why 
 May ne'er that lustre languish till the bound 
 Joyous she pass that poisons all her lamp ? 
 
 Thus having traced the causes obvious most 791) 
 
 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, 
 Hiding 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, 800 
 
 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 80,5 
 
 Bristles or hair, so poured the new-born 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 810 
 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 NATURE 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 82C 
 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 
 Gay-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 grotesque ; 
 2 F 2
 
 436 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 Monsters half-man, half-woman, not from each 
 
 Distant, yet neither total ; shapes unsound, 860 
 
 Footless, and hanclless, void of mouth or eye, 
 
 Or from misjunction, maimed, of limb 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 NATUKE 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 suppresti 
 Powerless its kind to gender. For whate'er 
 Feeds on the living ether, craft or speed, 
 Or courage stern, 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 CKNTAURS lived not : nor could shapes like thesa 
 Live evei', from two different natures reared, 
 Discordant limbs, and powers by powers reversed.
 
 BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. -137 
 
 E'en this the dullest thus with ease may learn. 900 
 
 The steed, o'er whom the year has thrice revolved, 
 Grows firm and vigorous ; but the babe a babe 
 Still 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 man, then, and the servile horse, 
 Seeds mixt with seeds, can CENTAURS e'er create ; 910 
 Or, false alike, that SCYLLAS e'er exist, 
 Half-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 
 
 Burn not the same ; whose total tempers jar, 
 And from discordant foods who nurture life : 
 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 burns 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 flood? 9-30 
 Were liquid gold, her earliest blossoms pearls, 
 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, commixt, 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 throughout proceed 940
 
 438 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 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 i'ar ; 
 Strong built with ampler bones, with muscles nerved 945 
 Broad and substantial ; to the power of heat, 
 Of cold, of varying 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, 9&0 
 
 Stung by fierce lust the female form subdued,
 
 BOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 439 
 
 Or bought her favours by the tempting bait 
 Of acorns, crabs, or berries blushing deep. 
 
 And in their keen rapidity of hand 
 
 And foot confiding, oft the savage train 085 
 
 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'en 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 living to a living tomb. 1010 
 
 And some, by flight though saved from present fate, 
 Covering their fetid ulcers with their hands, 
 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 ineffectual ire : 102C 
 
 Nor, lulled to calms, could e'er his traitor face 
 Lead, o'er the laughing waves, mistrustful man,
 
 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V 
 
 Untaught the dangerous science of the seas. 
 Then want consumed their languid members, now 
 Full-gorged excess devours us : they themselves 1025 
 
 Fed, heedless, oft with poisons : ofter still 
 Men now for others mix the fatal cup. 
 
 Yet when, at length, rude huts they first devised, 
 And fires, and garments ; and, in union sweet, 
 Man wedded woman, the pure joys indulged 1030 
 
 Of chaste connubial love, and children rose, 
 The rough barbarians softened. The warm hearth 
 Their frames so melted they no more could bear, 
 As erst, th' uncovered skies ; the nuptial bed 
 Broke their wild vigour, and the fond caress 1035 
 
 Of prattling children from the bosom chased 
 Their stern ferocious manners. Neighbours now 
 Joined in the bonds of friendship, and resolved 
 The softer sex to cherish, and their babes ; 
 And owned by gestures, signs, and sounds uncouth, 1040 
 'Twas just the weaklier to protect from harm. 
 Yet all such bonds obeyed not ; but the good, 
 The larger part their faith still uncorrupt 
 Kept, or the race of man had long expired, 
 Nor sire to son transferred the life received. 1045 
 
 Then nature, next, the tongue's innumerous 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,
 
 COOK V. ON THE NATURE 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 lie meaned ? his sole unaided arm 
 
 Could ne'er o'erpower them, and compel to iearn 
 
 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, 
 Gambols, 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 vital 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 LUCRETIUS BOOK V. 
 
 And time-triumphant raven, when for showers, 1105 
 
 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 1110 
 
 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 1125 
 
 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. 1 145
 
 UOOK V. ON THE NATURE OF 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 1 50 
 
 Whence safer seems it far in low estate 
 
 Peaceful to serve, than reign, and rule mankind. 
 
 But, vainly wearied, let them their life-blood 
 
 Sweat out, thus labouring up the tortuous steep, 
 
 O'er which, like lightning, ENVY brews her storms, 1155 
 
 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, 1165 
 
 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 1 170 
 
 'Twixt man and man exhausted all their strength ; 
 Hence easier led, spontaneous, to the yoke 
 Of equal rule and justice. Passion oft 
 Roused 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. 1185 
 
 Next learn what cause, through many a mighty realm.
 
 444 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 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 world, 1190 
 
 Builds temples, statues, feasts and fasts ordains. 
 
 This to resolve 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 119.5 
 
 More vast and wondrous ; these of sense possest 
 Quick they conceived, since moved they 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 of death 
 Such ne'er could haunt, and deeds stupendous oft 1205 
 Seemed they, in dreams, with utmost ease t' achieve. 
 
 Each various phase, moreo'er, the heavens disclose, 
 Each 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. 
 
 O hapless mortals ! that could first ascribe 
 Such facts, such furies to th' immortal gods. l'2'2d 
 
 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 temple every god that reigns,
 
 BOOK V ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 443 
 
 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. 1235 
 
 " 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 
 
 ; 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 
 His 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'ei throws all human greatness ! treads to dust 
 Eods, 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 ascribe,
 
 446 LUCRETIUS. BOOK V. 
 
 Whence rule they, ceaseless, this stupendous world ? 
 
 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 haply 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,
 
 BOOR F. 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, O MKMMIUS, 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 tyrant 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 1 330 
 
 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 TYRIAN 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 face the foe. 
 While the rude PARTHIANS 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 affrighted steed 
 Cairn, or goad on the battle to renew. 1350
 
 148 LUCRETID8. BOOK V. 
 
 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. 1355 
 
 Then, too, the boars, high tossed th' infuriate bulls, 
 
 Or crushed them with their hoofs ; or through the steeds 
 
 Drove deep their gory horns, appalled and faint, 
 
 Or 'gainst the ground their frantic foreheads dashed. 
 
 While the mad boars against their owners aimed 1300 
 
 Their tusks remorseless, tinging with their blood 
 
 Th' unbroken darts, (the broken they themselves 
 
 Tinged with their own blood, trailing o'er the ground,) 
 
 In one joint tumult slaughtering man and horse. 
 
 And though the steed strove oft by sudden start, 1365 
 
 Sidelong, to fly 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. 1 385 
 
 The rude-stitched hide preceded the wove vest, 
 Planned after iron, and with iron 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 NATURE 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 ; 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 ZEPHYR, whispering through the hollow reeds, 1420 
 Taught the first swains the hollow reeds to sound : 
 Whence v/oke 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, 
 Haunts 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 o
 
 450 LUCRETIUS. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 To gladden life. But chief when genial Spring 
 
 Led forth her laughing train, and the young year 
 
 Painted the meads with roseate flowers profuse 1435 
 
 Then mirth, and wit, and wiles, and frolic, chief. 
 
 Flowed from the heart ; for then the rustic muse 
 
 Warmest inspired them : then lascivious sport 
 
 Taught round their heads, their shoulders, taught to twine 
 
 Foliage, and flowers, and garlands richly dight ; 1 140 
 
 To loose, innumerous time their limbs to move, 
 
 And beat, with sturdy foot, maternal earth ; 
 
 While many a smile, and many a laughter loud, 
 
 Told all was new, and wondrous much esteemed. 
 
 Thus wakeful lived they, cheating of its rest 1446 
 
 The drowsy midnight ; with the jocund dance 
 
 Mixing gay converse, madrigals, and strains 
 
 Run o'er the reeds with broad recumbent lip : 
 
 As, wakeful still, our revellers through night 
 
 Lead on their defter dance to time precise ; 14oO 
 
 Yet cull not costlier sweets, with all their art, 
 
 Than the rude offspring earth in woodlands bore. 
 
 Thus what first strikes us, while ourselves as yet 
 Know nought superior, every charm combines, 
 But when aught else of ampler boast succeeds 1 4.55 
 
 We slight the former, every wish transferred. 
 Thus acorns soon disgusted ; the coarse couch 
 Of herbs and leaves was banished, and the hides 
 Of savage beasts deemed barbarous, and uncouth. 
 Yet the vast envy such these first inspired 1460 
 
 Their 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, 
 The naked throngs had dreaded every blast : 
 But us no ills can menace, though deprived 
 Of purple woof brocaded stiff with gold, 
 While humbler vests still proffer their defence. 1470 
 
 Yet 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 OF THINGS. 451 
 
 And where true pleasure ceases ; rendering time 
 
 One joyless main, where sail they, void of helm, 147o 
 
 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, 
 Know 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, 
 
 liaised 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 G 2
 
 452 LUCRETIUS. BOOK VL 
 
 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, 15 
 
 Then deemed the sage the mental vase itself 
 
 Unsound throughout ; despoiling, hence, the power 
 
 Of all that entered, useful or 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 ; 
 AVhat casual spring, from nature what uprise, 3C 
 
 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, 3 
 
 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 -iZ 
 
 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 
 
 Reared 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 VI. ON THE NATtTRE OF THINGS. 453 
 
 In earth man sees mysterious, shakes his mind, 
 
 With sacred awe o'erwhelms 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, dull reasoner, they can all 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 
 
 Rouse 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 omit, 30 
 
 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 ; 35 
 Much of the heavens, and scenes that roll 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 X) 
 
 To pierce through walls, and then triumphant die ? 
 And, doubtful whence it springs, with headlong haste
 
 454 I.UCKETIUS IK)OK ?L 
 
 Deem it the workmanship of hands divine. 
 
 Muse, most expert ! beloved of gods and men, 
 CALLIOPE ! O, aid me as I tread 9!> 
 
 Now the last limits of the path prescribed, 
 That the bright crown with plaudits I may claim. 
 
 First the blue cope of heaven with 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 rears. 
 
 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 swift as these dissolve, 
 Powerless to buoy the measured hail or snow. 
 
 Then, too, resound they through the sapphire vault, 110 
 As oft resound the flickering curtains drawn 
 O'er the thronged theatre from beam to beam. 
 And oft to fragments ffittered by the blast, 
 Like crackling scrolls they rattle through the skies : 
 Whence peals the thunder, as the fluttering sheet 115 
 
 Of parchment crisp, or canvass broad unfurled, 
 Lashed by the tempest, and to tatters torn. 
 
 And frequent the fierce 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 length, 
 Rends the pent power its prison, and aloft 
 Roars o'er the world the repercussive shock. 130 
 
 Nor wondrous this, since, filled 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 
 
 Ramous and wavy, hence sonorous too ; 
 
 As when the north-east whistles through the groves 
 
 The leaves all 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 
 
 Roots 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 cloud 
 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 hills, 155 
 
 Decrepitating loud, for louder nought 
 In conflagration crackles than the tree 
 Sacred to PHOEBUS on the DELPHIC 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, 
 Falls 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, 17C 
 It drops conspicuous ere the bounding blow 
 Strike on the ear so the keen lightning far 
 Anticipates the thunder, though alike 
 Reared from one cause, from one concussion reared.
 
 456 LUCRETIUS. BOOK YL 
 
 Or haply hence the winged lustre springs 173 
 
 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 surveys ; 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. 185 
 
 Then rolls the dread explosion, after heard, 
 Since sound than light far tardier meets the sense. 
 Yet 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 stern, now here, now there convolved, 
 Through every point, for freedom, and the seeds 
 Of latent fire elicit as they roll 
 
 Till the full flame 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, 15
 
 BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 457 
 
 Forth from their pores the radiant atoms start, 
 And wave the serpent-brandish through the skies. 
 
 Thus springs the flash, too, when the filmy 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, 22o 
 
 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 flame. 
 
 This igneous shaft, then, Nature rears, recluse, 23(1 
 
 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 solid 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 alike 
 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 2-55 
 
 Blackens throughout, beneath the clustering crowd
 
 458 LUCRET.US. BOOli VI. 
 
 So black?Jkd tancy might conceive all hell 
 
 Had, with his direst shades, the welkin stormed, 
 
 Shivering with horror every human nerve, 
 
 Ere yet the tempest forge his 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, full many a seed 
 Igneous, the hollow-bosomed clouds contain, 275 
 
 And 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 
 Diffused 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. 295 
 
 Such the vast uproar when the red-hot storm 
 Bursts forth abrupt, and hurls iie fiery bolts.
 
 BOOK VI. ON THE NATT771K OP THINGS. 
 
 Oft, too, th' external whirlwind, as it flies, 
 Against the cloud strikes sudden, that within 
 Holds the ripe tempest, and its form divides. 
 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, 
 Rapid 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 
 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. 
 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 lingers sluggish from the steel's cold touch. 
 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, 
 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 wide its infant forces it collects, 
 And strives, impatient of restraint, t' escape ! 
 Till, grown mature, the full-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 : 
 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK VI. 
 
 All, too, of weight possessed, below must tend 
 E'en from their nature : but when once to weight 34C 
 
 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: 350 
 
 Joined too, perchance, by atoms drawn from 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 with those th' objective mark that rear, 
 And 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 with 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 diverts 
 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 YI. ON THE NATURE OF 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. 38.* 
 
 Hence may'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 flows 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 dart ? 
 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, 4 1 5 
 
 Why form its structure viewless to the sight ? 
 While, if he hope to strike us unprepared, 
 Why flash, conspicuous, and invite escape ? 
 Why first fill heaven with groans and darkness dire ?- 
 
 Then, canst thou deem him competent at once 420
 
 462 LUCRETIUS. BOOK VI. 
 
 Through various points to thunder ? or the fact 
 
 Dar'st thou deny that many a fatal bolt 
 
 Falls at the same dread moment ? while the year, 
 
 Ceaseless, such fact renews, and proves precise 
 
 That as the shower at once o'er many a scene 425 
 
 Rushes amain, so darts th' ethereal shaft. 
 
 And why, moreo'er, the temples of the gods, 
 Why his own altars, with the fiery storm 
 Fells he, promiscuous ? into atoms why 
 Rends their best statues ; and, with frantic aim, 430 
 
 E'en from himself his image-honours wrest ? 
 Or o'er the hills why hurls he chief his ire, 
 The rocks abrupt, and mountains most sublime ? 
 
 Hence, with much ease, the meteor may we trace 
 Termed, from its essence, PRESTER by the GREEKS, 425 
 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 cloud 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 waves, 
 Tortured, and torn, loud howling midst 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 NATURE OF THINGS. 463 
 
 Till, earth attained, th' involving web abrupt 
 
 Bursts, and the whirlwind 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, undiscerned 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 all the heavens with clouds, and darkness deep ; 1{)5 
 While tides of rushing ether closer still 
 Drive the light woof, and weave a thicker shade. 
 
 Then, too, perchance, the primal seeds of things, 
 Borne from without, the mingled mass may join, 
 And swell the cloudy drapery. These how wide 5(X) 
 
 Diffused through space, how countless their amount, 
 With what vast speed, what instantaneous flight
 
 464 LUCRETIUS. BOOK ^1 . 
 
 O'erpower they every distance, we ere while 
 
 At large developed. Nought of wonder, then, 
 
 That storms, and blackness, gendered e'en above, 50o 
 
 Should oft abrupt o'er mountains, plains, and seas 
 
 Of amplest breadth, their dreary mantle stretch ; 
 
 Since through all 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 5 1 5 
 
 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 floscules, 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
 
 9X/K WL <BI TBE KATCBB Of 
 
 trj pearL and facers stmnemtom aevcr. 
 
 i .flc^r 4&.A MK^.n.M. ^< _ _ * 
 <* UK waters, OK RstranK 
 
 Tkatcfcaim tbe riren pocci^ to be firwe, 
 
 Tfci ribr i liraii, Mb ti Ml, :>; 
 
 kaxm the 
 
 tilrd iWk imiiBy WMMB^ 
 
 Anlfiaetecd 
 
 ad. her h&flovs, booBavBai liven na\ 
 Wawe after ware, aad hide their aeeret hraii : 
 
 Thnu lialhii ! il i ! 
 
 With ^art mail < whJk,*fi aeae 
 the feai tnmam^ mtmrn^t i aaic 
 
 Thoagh filed bat halt a> o'er fhe ; 
 
 bbakea way i 
 
 t^ala Ay wfcf^, , ttt ^g,** M^M! ray 57C 
 
 Drnmhyleeti
 
 466 LtCRETIUS. BOOK V; 
 
 Some ruthhss conflict the wide world itself 
 
 Shall crush with wreck unbounded while they see 
 
 Earth shook so largely through her inmost mass ? 
 
 E r 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. 
 
 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 an 1 the solid soil 
 Fractures amain, with broad tremendous yawn. 
 Such SYRIAN SIDOX saw, and JEoiUM such, 605 
 
 Pride of MOREAN 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 all 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 OF 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 030 
 
 Of streams innumerous from innumerous points, 
 Year after year, its limits never swell. 
 Yet add to these whate'er from heaven descends 
 In showers and tempests, scattered wide alike 
 O'er earth and ocean, every fountain add, 035 
 
 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 
 
 Kaised 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 a 2
 
 468 LUCRETIUS. BOOK 71. 
 
 Wondering, beneath the dingy-flaring cope, 
 What new adventure Nature means t' achieve. 
 
 Such facts t' unfold thy mind must deep, and wide 
 And long expatiate o'er their separate parts ; 670 
 
 Recall the doctrine that th' ENTIRE OF THINGS 
 Throughout is boundless ; and how small, reflect, 
 One system sole when with th' ENTIRE compared 
 With systems thronging ; systems so complex 
 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 that the hallowed erysipelas 
 O'er every limb should trail 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 ill. 
 Deem, then, alike, that heaven and earth themselves 
 Draw from the boundless whole the stores evinced 690 
 When, with wild horror, quakes the world abrupt ; 
 O'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 ^ETNA'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 OF THINGS. 469 
 
 Fill all its caves, for agitated air 
 
 To wind converts, resistless in its might. 
 
 This, when once heated, and its torrid breath 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, aid hence 
 Draws it, at times, fresh stores of maddening wind ; 
 An ampler storm hence brewing, and its flames, 
 Its rocks, 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. 7-15 
 
 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 LTTCRETILS. iJOOK VI. 
 
 Full from the south, from realms of torrid hea% 
 
 Haunts of the ExniOP-tribes ; yet far beyond 750 
 
 First bubbling, distant, o'er the burning line. 
 
 Then ocean, haply, by th' undevious breeze 
 Blown up its channel, heaves with every wave 
 Heaps of high sands, and dams its wonted course : 
 Whence narrower, too, its exit to the main, 755 
 
 And with less force the tardy stream descends. 
 
 Or, towards its fountain, ampler rains, perchance 
 Fall, as th' ETESIAN fans, now wide unfurled, 
 Ply the big clouds perpetual from the north 
 Far o'er the red equator ; where, condensed, 760 
 
 Ponderous, and low, against the hills they strike, 
 And shed their treasures o'er the rising flood. 
 Or, from the ExHiOP-mountains, the bright sun 
 Now full matured, with deep dissolving ray 
 May melt th' agglomerate snows, and down the plains 765 
 Drive them, augmenting, hence, th' incipient stream. 
 
 But come, th' AVERNI beckon ; and the muse 
 Their nature, next, their depths, their lakes shall pierce. 
 
 And first, their name from power adverse to birds 
 Draw they : for when the feathery people once 770 
 
 Touch but their confines, instant they forget 
 Their pinioned oars, their plumy sails relax, 
 And down, plumb down, profuse, with fluent neck 
 Plunge they to earth, if earth their bottom form, 
 Or into pools, if pool the mystic depth. 775 
 
 Such the dread gulf at CUJUE, belching high 
 Fumes of hot sulphur o'er the mountains round. 
 Such, too, at ATHEXS, deep within her walls, 
 Steams from the tower, MIXERVA'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 SYRIA, 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 j 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 from 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 vary, whence the frame of things 
 Much holds nutritious, baneful much, and big 800 
 
 With certain fate ; while different foods, to kinds 
 Different 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 803 
 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 snuff 
 
 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 LUCRETIUS. BOOK VL 
 
 Dies not each sense beneath the charcoal-fume 
 If from the brook we drink not ere they 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 ! 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' AVERNI 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' AVERNI 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 effort 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 lymph 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-born 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 VI. 
 
 Yet ne'er so active as the wave to warm. 
 
 Some latent energy the seeds, moreo'er, 
 Thus scattered, forces to the water's brim 915 
 
 Sudden, and there concentrates ; as, at times, 
 Springs the fresh fount amid th' unbounded main, 
 And drives 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 day, 
 Commingling with its fibres ; which achieved, 
 Or with the torch once blended, all is blaze ; 925 
 
 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 flame 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 935 
 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 lowlier 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 full 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. 95 J 
 
 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 diffused ; 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 imbibed 
 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 wall*. 
 For nought combines through nature void of pores. 
 
 Then not unvarying in exterior shape
 
 476 LUCRETIUS. BOOS. VI. 
 
 All atoms flow from all things ; nor alike 995 
 
 On all things act they, with effect unchanged. 
 
 The beam that burns and dries the moistened earth, 
 Fluxes the frost, o'er mountains piled sublime 
 Rolls, in loose tide, the macerated snows, 
 And with its effluence melts th' adhesive wax. 1000 
 
 Fire fuses gold and copper, but contracts 
 The flesh of beeves and shrivels their togh 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 marjoram 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 they, 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 differ, 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. 102C 
 
 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, 
 Their powers diverse, as long anterior proved, 
 Th' appropriate duct adapting most exact. 
 
 These axioms thus premised, then, and maintained, 103C 
 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 VI. ON THE 'NATURE OF THINGS. +YJ 
 
 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 
 
 The 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 SAMOTHRA.CE, or fragments fine
 
 478 i,tJCRETTO8. BOOK VI. 
 
 Struck from the valid iron, bounding high 
 
 When close below the magnet points its powers. 
 
 So v:\st th' aversion, e'en the brass beneath, 
 
 Feel they at times ; the discord such induced. 1080 
 
 Thou thus resolve the problem : that the brass 
 
 First throws, as nearest, its attenuate breath, 
 
 And fills the pores of iron ; which when, next, 
 
 The stream magnetic reaches, it in vain 
 
 Toils to transpierce, each avenue possest. 1085 
 
 Checked in its course, with wave perpetual, hence, 
 
 The rings, the raspings beats it, and above 
 
 Far off repulses, else embracing strong. 
 
 Nor strange conceive 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 pores 
 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 only stones connects ; the strong steer-glue 
 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 dai'es 1105 
 
 League with the fountain ; while the ponderous pitch 
 The light-winged oil refuses. With the fleece 
 The purple murex so minutely blends 
 Nought e'er can part them : no though e'en thou 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 NATURE 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 1 120 
 
 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 1 125 
 O'er man's pale offspring, and the brutal throngs, 
 Next will we sing. Already hast thou heard 
 That 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 ; 1135 
 
 Or breathed from earth, when once her soddened soil 1 
 Ferments 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 1 140 
 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 1 1 15 
 
 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 eijch, 
 As various heavens and atmospheres divide, 
 So man himself in tincture, face, and form J 1 50 
 
 Alike must vary, and disease sustained. 
 
 High up the NILE, mid EGYPT'S central plains, 
 Springs the dread leprosy, and there alone. 
 Gout clogs the feet in ATTICA ; the sight 
 Fails in ACHAIA : different regions, thus, 1 I 5S 
 
 With different organs wage eternal war, 
 As urged by atmospheres of frame unlike. 
 
 But when the heaven, of poisonous power to tw>
 
 490 LUCBETTUS. BOOK VL 
 
 First moves remote, its hostile effluence creeps 
 
 Slow, like, a mist or vapour ; all around 1160 
 
 Transforming as it passes, till, at length, 
 
 Reached 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 1 165 
 
 ( 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, 1 1 70 
 
 The lusty herd, the blight that thins our fk-cks. 
 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 1175 
 
 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 1 1 80 
 
 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 1 85 
 
 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 19(1 
 
 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 1 93 
 
 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 OF THINGS. 4g] 
 
 While 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 saffron dye, 
 Salt, with hoarse oough 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 1240 
 
 2 i
 
 482 I.TTCRETIU8. BOOK VI. 
 
 A ghastly grin ; the shrivelled forehead tense ; 
 The limbs outstretched, for instant death prepared ; 
 Till with the eighth descending sun, for few 
 Reached 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 1260 
 
 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 cure 
 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 
 M<ui felt th' infection, as though full forewarned 1280 
 
 Oi' sure destruction, melancholy deep
 
 BOOK VI. ON THE NATURE OP THINGS. 483 
 
 Preyed o'er his heart, his total courage failed, 
 Deatli 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 
 Roused 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 the 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, an-1 tlie streets they trod, 1320 
 Their languid limbs; already half extinct, 
 Horrid with fetor, stiff with blotches foul, 
 2 i 2
 
 484 LUCRETIUS. BOOK VI, 
 
 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 charnels, and their sacred shrines 
 Thronged with the dead : for superstition now, 
 The power of altars, half their sway had lost, 
 Whelmed 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 friends 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 corse. 
 
 THE END.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 , or events, what they are. i. 
 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 ; vi. 250, 763; 
 regions of, vi. 250 
 Achermia templa, i. 121 ; iii. 25, 86 
 1 stultorumrita, 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, 
 i. 441 
 
 Adjuncts, see Accidents 
 ^gium, a town near Helice and Burn, in 
 the Peloponnesus, destroyed by an earth- 
 quake, vi. 584 
 ./Egypt, tee Egypt 
 ./Eneas, race of, (dineadee,) i. 1 
 jEolia, for Italy, i. 712 
 jF'.her, feeds the heavenly bodies, i. 232. 
 
 Father ./Ether, i. 151 
 Ethiopian mountains, vi. 736 
 JEtna., i. 723; ii. 594 ; vi. 640, 670, 682 
 Agriculture, commencement of, v. 1366 
 Air, not the origin of things, i. 708; wastes 
 and is renewed, like other bodies, v. 
 276. Unwholesome atoms mixed with 
 air the cause of diseases, vi. 1094, ; ;18 
 Alinda, a city of Caria, garments from, iv. 
 
 1126. -feeChian 
 
 Ambition, vanity of it, ii. 37; v. 1126 
 Ammon, Jupiter, a spring near his tem- 
 ple, cold in the day, and warm in the 
 night, vi. 849 
 Anaxagoras, his homaomery explained, i. 
 
 830; refuted, i. 843 
 Ancus, king of Rome, iii. 1038 
 Androgynes, or hermaphrodites, v. 837 
 Animals, could not be constantly pro- 
 duced, unless there were abundance of 
 atoms constantly supplied for the pur- 
 pose from the dissolution of bodies, i. 
 226 ; mode and causes of their growth 
 and decay, ii. 1122 ; first produced from 
 the earth, v. 789; why in perpetual 
 want of nourishment, iv. 859 
 Annihilation. That nothing can be anni- 
 hilated, i. 216, 218, 249, aiqve alibi 
 Anonymous substance, combined with 
 
 three others, heat, aura, and air, in tlM 
 composition of the soul, iii. 241 
 
 Apollo, tee Phoebus 
 
 Arabian odours, tee Pinchsean 
 
 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 wat 
 a harmony, iii. 100; refuted, 118 136 
 
 Arts, of comparatively recent invention, 
 v. 333 
 
 Athens, inventress of agriculture, and 
 promoter of the polite arts, vi. 1 : one 
 of the places called Averni 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, *ey. ; sense- 
 less, ii. 842 ; absurdities which would 
 follow from supposing that sensible 
 beings must be produced from sensible 
 atoms, ii. 900, 906 ; proved to be colour- 
 less, ii. 730842; in falling through 
 space, some declined a little from the 
 right line, otherwise there would have 
 been no collisions and combinations, ii. 
 217 224 ; the shapes of atoms are limit- 
 ed in number, but the number of each 
 shape is infinite, ii. 478528; 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 
 
 Averni, certain places so named, vi. 739; 
 why so called, vi. 741; where situate, 
 vi. 748760 
 
 Augmentation of things, how caused, L 
 177, 189 
 
 Augury, vanity of, vl. 379 
 
 Aura, one of the four subtle substances ft 
 which the soul and mind are composed, 
 iii. 233, 248 
 
 Aurora, her rising, ii. 143 ; Iv. 713 ; v. 6M 
 
 Babe, new-bom, helplessness of, v. 223 
 Babylonian astronomy, v. 726 
 coverlcU, iv. 103
 
 486 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Bacchus, used figuratively foi wine, ti. 
 655 ; his benefits bestowed on mankind, 
 v. 14. See Ceres. Loss of flavour in wine 
 not attended with loss of weight, Hi. 222 
 
 Barrenness, in women, not caused by di- 
 vine influence, iv. 1239 ; its real causes, 
 ibid. ; why some women are barren to 
 some men, and fruitful to others, iv. 
 1244 
 
 Beasts, tee Brutes 
 
 Beauty. Kings chosen on account of beau- 
 ty of person, v. 1110 
 
 Beaver. Effects of the smell of castoreum 
 on women in a certain condition, vi. 
 795 
 
 Birds, were produced first of all animals, 
 v. 799 ; sprung from the earth, v. 823 ; 
 have dreams, iv. 1004; change their 
 notes with changes of feeling, v. 1077 ; 
 or with changes of the weather, as 
 crows, v. 1082 
 
 Bistpnian regions, where the horses of 
 Diomede were, v. 30 
 
 Boar, Arcadian, v. 25 
 
 Body, tee Substance 
 
 , the vessel or receptacle of the soul, 
 iii. 441, 554 
 
 Brass, more valued than any other metal, 
 before iron was known, v. 1272, 1286 
 
 Britain, allusion to the climate of, vi. 
 1105 
 
 Brutes, sprung from the earth, v. 821 ; 
 the young know their dams, and the 
 dams their young, from difference of 
 shape, ii. 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 
 
 Calliope 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. 792 
 
 Capricorn, v. 614 
 
 Carthage, iii. 1047 
 
 Carthaginians contending with Rome, iii. 
 845 
 
 Castor, Castoreum, see Beaver 
 
 Cecrops, territory of, (i. e. Attica,) vi. 1137 
 
 Centaurs, why such monsters could never 
 have existed, v. 875; see Chimaera; 
 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, 
 i. 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, /&. 
 
 Cerberus, a mere creature of the imagina- 
 tion, iii. 1024; iv. 735 
 
 Ceres, her name sometimes uaed for corn, 
 ii. 655 ; full-bosomed, iv. 1164 ; her gift 
 of corn to mortals compared with th 
 benefits conferred on them by Epicurus, 
 v. 14 
 
 Chaldeans, their astronomy, v. 726 
 
 Change, is perpetually going on in nature ; 
 nothing stationary, v. 826 ; whatever is 
 liable to change is mortal, v. 377 ; also 
 i. 671, 792; ii. 753; iii.518; change in 
 the value of things, v. 1275 ; how 
 change is effected, iii. 512 
 
 Charcoal, the smell of it noxious to the 
 brain, vi. 803 ; remedy against it, ib. 
 
 Chariots, the invention of them subse- 
 quent to that of riding on horseback, v. 
 1296; armed with scythes, v. 1300; iii. 
 642 
 
 Charybdis, i. 723 
 
 Chian garments, iv. 1126. See Alinda 
 
 Children, ought to be dutiful to their pa. 
 rents, ii. 605 ; those who are otherwise, 
 are not deserving to be parents them- 
 selves, ii. 615 ; why they sometimes re- 
 semble the father, or mother, or both, 
 iv. 1205; why they are sometimes like 
 their grandfathers or other ancestors, ii. 
 1214; how deceived by physicians or 
 nurses, i. 935; iv. 11; afraid in the 
 dark, ii. 54; iii. 87; vi. 35 
 
 Chimaera, a monster that never could 
 have existed, v. 899; ii. 705. See Cen- 
 taurs 
 
 Cilician saffron, stage sprinkled with a so- 
 lution of, ii. 416 
 
 Cities, first built, v. 1107. 
 
 Clothes, those that were stitched together 
 preceded those that were woven, v. 
 1349. See Garments 
 
 Clouds, how generated, vi. 451 ; how rain 
 is produced, vi. 495 ; great rains, vi. 
 517; fantastic shapes of, iv. 137; not 
 always soft, but so hard that they will 
 crackle if broken, vi. 150 
 
 Cock, why the lion shrinks from him, iv. 
 712 
 
 Cold, Lucretius thought it an invisible 
 substance, i. 356 ; penetrates to the 
 bones, and through metals and walls, i. 
 356, 495 ; vi. 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, i&. , change in the colour 
 of pigeons' necks and peacocks' tails, 
 from the effects of light, ii. SOI ; no 
 colour without light, inference from 
 this, ii. 795 
 
 Conjuncts, or Adjuncts, tee Accidents 
 
 Conscience, disquietudes of a guilty, 511, 
 1031 
 
 Contentment, the greatest riches, v. 1116; 
 man may be content with little, ii M
 
 INDEX. 
 
 487 
 
 Convulsions in those diseased with the 
 
 plague, vi. 1160, 1189 
 Corn, said to have been first sown by 
 
 Ceres, v. 14 ; the knowledge of corn and 
 
 wine not necessary to mankind, for some 
 
 nations still live without them, v. 16 
 Corruption, or dissolution, of one thing is 
 
 necessary to generation of another, i. 263 
 Cranes, their noise, iv. 182, 911 
 Craters of JF.tna, vi. 702 
 Cretan bull, v. 26 
 
 Crete, the scene of Jupiter's infancy, i. 635 
 Crows, why never white, or swans black, 
 
 ii. 817; foretell changes of weather, v. 
 
 1082 
 Cultivation in the earliest ages, v. 1366; 
 
 tools were first made of brass, v. 1288 
 Cumae, one of the Averni near it, vi. 748 
 Cups of metal penetrated by cold and 
 
 heat, i. 496; vi. 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, ii. 
 
 599, 658; how represented, and with 
 
 what ceremonies worshipped, ii. 602, teq. 
 
 Danaides, the fable of them commented 
 
 upon, iii. 1017 
 
 Day and night, possible causes of their in- 
 crease and decrease, v. 679, ieq.; why 
 they succeed one another, v. 649 
 Death, described, ii. 944 ; is the separation 
 of soul and body, iii. 209 228; the fear 
 of it produces and cherishes many evils, 
 iii. 59 ; must be dispelled by the contem- 
 plation of the course of nature, and the 
 exercise of reason, i. 149 ; ii. 60 ; iii. 
 91 ; vi. 41 
 
 Deer, timid from natural constitution, 
 iii. 300; cast their horns, iii. 614; sup- 
 posed to draw serpents from their holes 
 by their breath, vi. 766 
 Deity, tee Gods 
 Delphic laurel, see Laurel 
 Democritus, his opinion that each atom of 
 the soul corresponded to an atom of the 
 body, iii. 371; he committed suicide 
 when he found old age coming on, iii. 
 1052 ; his notion concerning the revolu- 
 tions of the heavenly bodies, v. 620 
 Descriptions 
 
 Of the effects of the approach of 
 
 Venus, i. 6 
 Of the Spring, i. 10 
 Of Mars in the lap of Venus, i. S3 
 Of the effects of wind, i. 272 
 Of a torrent, i. 281 
 Of a wood taking fire, i. 896 
 Of a flock of sheep feeding on a dis- 
 tant hill, iii. 317 
 Of armies engaging, ii. 323 
 Of a cow bemoaning the loss of her 
 
 calf, ii. 352 
 
 Of a shipwreck, ii. 553 
 Of the goddess Cybele, and the cere- 
 
 Descriptions 
 
 monies used in her worship, it 
 601 
 Of the golden age, and subsequent 
 
 change in things, ii. 1158 
 Of a person swooning, iii. 15S 
 Of a person in a lethargy, iii. 46fi 
 Of the effects of wine, iii. 475 
 Of a person in an epileptic fit, iii 
 
 486 
 Of the terrors of a guilty conscience, 
 
 iii. 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 phenomena and effects in 
 
 dreams, iv. 9631026 
 Of a new-born babe, v. 223 
 Of the rise and formation of tho 
 
 world, v. 417509 
 Of the four seasons, v. 736 
 Of the production of animals froiv 
 
 the earth, v. 803 
 
 Of the discovery of metals, v. 1251 
 Of a thunder-storm, vi. 281 
 Of an eruption of JF.tna, vi. 640 
 Of the Averni, vi. 739 
 Of the plague at Athens, vi. 1137 
 Diana, Iphigenia immolated at her altar, 
 
 1.85 
 Diminution of things, how caused, i. 312 ; 
 
 ii. 71 
 
 Diseases, arise from noxious atoms in the 
 air, vi. 1089; certain diseases peculiar 
 to certain countries, vi. 1113 
 Dissolution ; things more easily dissolved 
 
 than formed, i. 557 
 Distance of an object, how known by its 
 
 image, according to Lucretius, iv. 245 
 Divisibility of matter is limited, i. 552, 
 
 600, 616 
 Dodona, a spring there which sets fire to 
 
 light substances, vi. 880 
 Dogs, soon seized by the pestilence, vi. 
 
 1221 
 
 Dreams, caused by images flying about, 
 iv. 38, 725, 759. How the mind deceives 
 itself in dreams, 451 469 
 
 Earth, contains in itself various sorts of 
 atoms, whence all things are produced, 
 ii. 590 ; justly, therefore, called the 
 Great Mother, ii. 599 ; v. 794, 820 ; how 
 worshipped under the name of Cybele, 
 ii. 601 ; grows old and decays, ii. 1151 ; 
 hangs in the air, ii. 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 msn, 
 that it cannot have been designed by 
 divine wisdom for man's use, v. 2oJ 
 
 Earthquakes, causes of, vi. 535607
 
 488 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Echo, how formed, Iv. 572 ; several echos 
 from one spot, iv. 579 
 
 Eclipses, v. 750 ; eclipses of the sun may 
 not always proceed from the interposi- 
 tion of the moon, v. 752; those of the 
 mrxm rcay 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. 706712; 
 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, teq. ; are all 
 four generated and perishable, v. 236 ; 
 two of them, fire and water, always at 
 strife with each other, v. 381 
 
 Elephants, not prolific, ii. 533; why called 
 Eovet Lucte, 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, teq. 
 
 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, i. 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 sufferings, iii. 14 ; 
 surpassed all other benefactors of man- 
 kind, v. 11 ; iii. 1055; excellence of his 
 instructions, vi. 1 
 
 Epidemical diseases caused by the pre- 
 valence of certain atoms, vi. 1092 
 
 Erysipelas, vi. 661, 1166 
 
 Etesian winds, v. 741; vi. 717. 731 
 
 Etruscan augury, vanity of, vi. 379 
 
 Events, $ee 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. 63G, seq. ; trees 
 sometimes take fire of themselves, i. 
 896 ; flame doe* not aspire naturally, 
 but only from an impelling force, ii. 1S4 
 215 ; fire perishes and is renewed, like 
 
 the other three element*, r. 282; orifit 
 of fire among mankind was probably 
 from lightning, v. 1090 ; yet might have 
 had another origin, v. 1095 ; wind, like 
 other bodies, may take fire from swift- 
 ness of motion, vi. 300 ; all combustible 
 bodies contain atoms to supply flame, ii. 
 672 ; fire of lightning is more penetrating 
 than ordinary fire, as consisting of 
 smaller atoms, ii. 381 
 
 Fire, St. Anthony's, see 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 ani- 
 mals by reason of the variety of the atomi 
 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 atomt 
 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, iii. 
 1024 
 
 Galli, 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. 1126. 
 See Clothes 
 
 Geese, saved the Capitol, iv. 685 ; per- 
 ceive the smell of a man at a great dis- 
 tance, 16. 
 
 Generation, corruption necessary to it, i. 
 263 ; motion necessary to it, i. 343 ; 
 what things are necessary to animal 
 generation, v. 847 
 
 Geryon, v. 28 
 
 Ghosts, where said by Ennius to reside, i. 
 123. See Images 
 
 Giants. Those who affirm 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. 106S 
 
 Gods. Seems doubtful whether Lucretins 
 believed in their existence or not. In 
 v. 1160 HOC, 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 theil 
 substance. Described as enjoying a 
 state of profound tranquillity and ua-
 
 INDEX. 
 
 489 
 
 concern, i. 58; H. 647; did not make 
 the world, v. 157; do not rule it, ii. 
 1090; cannot preserve even their own 
 temples, v. 309 
 
 Gold, first discovery 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, i. 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. 527 
 
 Happiness, not to be attained without ex- 
 emption from fear of the future, i. 37 
 
 Hardness, tee Solidity 
 
 Harmony. The soul not a harmony of the 
 parts of the body, iii. 98 
 
 Hearing, produced by the impact of cor- 
 poreal 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, iii. 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 Xgmm 
 
 Helicon, i. 119; iii. 133; iv. 549; vi. 786 
 
 Hell, tee 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. G36 ; 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. 6-12 ; his opinion about fire refuted, i. 
 646705 
 
 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. 
 fb. 
 
 Hesperides, gardens of, guarded by a 
 dragon, v. 33 
 
 Hoar-frost, tee Hail 
 
 Homer. Ennius says that his shade ap- 
 peared to him, i. 125 ; his golden chain 
 descending from heaven, ii. 1155 
 
 Homoeomery of Anaxagoras, tee 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; bee* 
 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, tee 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 fly 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. 'iSS; 
 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 doubtful which of the two is 
 meant,) iv. 3)2; why our image in 
 mirror seems to move with ui, iv. 321 ; 
 three sorts of images ; those which fly
 
 490 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 from objects, 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, iv. 759, 730 
 
 Imagination, tee Images, Thought 
 
 Impacts. This world not sustained by per- 
 petual impacts of surrounding matter, 
 i. 1040 
 
 Impiety, Lucretius defends himself 
 against the charge of, i. 81 ; many im- 
 pious deeds have been caused by fan- 
 cied religion, i. 84 
 
 Infinitude of the universe, i. 969 
 
 Invocation of Venus, i. 1. See Venus 
 
 Ionian Sea, i. 720 
 
 Iphigenia, sacrifice of, i. 85 
 
 Iron, discovery of it, v. 1280; how at- 
 tracted by the magnet, vi. 907 
 
 Italy, called Molm, i. 722 
 
 Jaundice, all things seem yellow to those 
 
 affected with it, iv. 333 
 Jupiter, folly of supposing that he hurls 
 
 thunder and lightning, vi. 387, 401 
 
 Kings, were first elected from 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 irods, 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, tee 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 
 
 Lernaean 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, ii. 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 grea.' velocity, ii. 143; 
 
 passes through horn when water *H1 
 not, ii, 387; particles of light perpetnally 
 passing off from the sun, v. 282 ; the 
 flame of lamps constantly wasting, and 
 constantly being renewed, by the agency 
 of heat, v. 295 
 
 Lightning, produced by a concourse of ig- 
 neous atoms in the clouds, vi. 160 ; a 
 dry cloud may thus be burned up with 
 a crackling like that of laurel leaves, vi. 
 150; may be produced by wind heated 
 from its own velocity, vi. 173, 295 ; or 
 by the compression of clouds, vi. 211, 
 246 ; or by the rarefaction 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 ; may be pro- 
 duced by the impact on a cloud of wind 
 not heated, vi. 309 ; its force, vi. 335 ; 
 most prevalent in autumn , vi. 357 ; 
 study of Etruscan auguries unprofitable, 
 vi. 379 ; lightning not hurled by Jupitei 
 or any of the gods, and why, vi. 387 ; 
 more penetrating than ordinary flame, 
 from 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 when 
 the limbs are taken away, iii. 120, 642 
 
 Lions, of a fierce disposition, iii. 297 , 
 shrink from a cock, iv. 714 ; lions draw 
 the chariot of Cybele, ii. 602 ; the Par- 
 thians attempted to use them in war, 
 v. 1309; the Nemaean lion, v. 25 
 
 Liquids, composed of smooth and round 
 particles, ii. 451 
 
 Loadstone, tee Magnet 
 
 Looking-glass, see 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 wh'h desire, 
 attribute to the beloved object qualities 
 which she does not possess, iv. 1145; 
 why plain women are often deserving 
 objects of affection, 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. 9181088 ; 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 brazen 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. 108! 
 
 Man. Dispositions of men dilier, from th
 
 INDEX. 
 
 491 
 
 greater or less influence of certain 
 particle* in their organization, iii. 308 ; 
 nan the most helpless of all animals in 
 his infancy, v. 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- 
 ties, v 1009 ; commencement of lan- 
 guage, v. 1027; no one man gave names 
 to things, v. 10401090; how men be- 
 gan to build cities, establish govern- 
 ment, and improve their condition, v. 
 11071456 
 
 Manes. Men sacrifice to the Dii Manes, 
 iii. 52. Manes do not dwell in the 
 Averni, vi. 765 
 
 Mars in the lap of Venus, i. 33 
 
 Ma.sk of plaster, iv. 297 
 
 Matter, must have existed always, since 
 nothing can spring from nothing, i. 150; 
 if nothing could rise out of nothing, any 
 thing might rise out of any thing, i. 160 ; 
 and might rise at anytime, 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- 
 stroyed, i. 216 ; were there no such dis- 
 tinct imperishable atoms, animals (and 
 vegetables) could not be reproduced 
 and nourished , gene rat im, 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, i. 272 ; no portion of 
 matter is solid, but all has some vacuity 
 intermixed with it, i. 330370 ; further 
 arguments on this head, i. 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. 
 gOO 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, tee Food 
 
 Mediocrity, the state of most enjoyment, 
 v. 1126 
 
 Memmius, i. 27, et alibi. See the Life of 
 Lucretius. 
 
 Memory, lost by many in the plague at 
 Athens, vi. 1212 
 
 Metsls, how first discovered, v. 1J40; 
 
 pervious to heat and cold, L 46; Yl 
 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 
 band 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 hat 
 greater influence than the soul in pre- 
 serving life, iii. 397 ; how the mind 
 judges of the different figures of objects, 
 iv. 231 ; mind sometimes suffers when 
 the soul is free from pain or trouble, iii. 
 150; strong passion in the mind arise* 
 from the prevalence of hot panicles in 
 it, iii. 289 ; thoughts in the mind pro- 
 duced by images, iv. 724. See Soul 
 
 Mines, noxious effluvia 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, v. 1107. 
 See Kings, Government 
 
 Monster. Such monsters as Chimaeras 
 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 travel* 
 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. 750769 
 
 Morning, how it may be caused, v. 655 
 678 
 
 Motes in the sun-beam, from their motion* 
 we may judge of those of the primordia. 
 atoms, ii. Ill 
 
 Motion, that of atoms was from their own 
 weight, by which they descended 
 through the infinity of space, ii. 83, 131, 
 137, 1.57, 201,217; vi. 335 : no body ha 
 any upward motion of itself, ii. 134 ; but 
 the motion of some atoms deviated from 
 the right line, and hence collision* took
 
 492 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 place, ii. 216, 292; unless there had been 
 this commencement of deviation from 
 the right line, there could have been no 
 voluntary motion in animals, ii. 250 ; 
 forced or involuntary motion in animals 
 is checked by the exercise of the will, ii. 
 272; voluntary motion in animals begins 
 from the heart or pectoral regions, 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. 878892. Motion of the 
 heavens, see Heavens 
 Music, men took their idea of it from the 
 voices of birds, v. 1378; Phrygian mu- 
 sic, ii. C21 
 
 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. Se Atoms, World, 
 Things 
 
 Navigation, unknown in the earliest ages, 
 v. 1004 ; its commencement, v. 1441 
 
 Necessity. Matter being such as it is, and 
 having room to work, things arc 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. 713738 
 
 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 from no- 
 thing after they are produced ; matter 
 is necessary for their growth, i. 185 
 215 ; no substance is reduced to nothing, 
 i. 216265. 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- 
 list of small atoms, but not so small as 
 those of sounds, ib., and iv. 700 ; are 
 dispersed from substances in all direc 
 
 tions, iv. 675 ; different odcirs suit the 
 senses of different animals, iv. 679; 
 odours do not diffuse themselves so far 
 as sounds, iv. 691 ; cause of this, ib. ; 
 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 dissimilarity to water is caused by 
 the different shape of its particles, ii. 
 391 ; olive oil 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. Ill 
 
 Orcus, see Tartarus 
 
 Oxen, their disposition of a middle nature 
 between that of lions and deer, iii. 303 
 
 Pain in animals caused by concussion 
 and disturbance of their atoms, ii. 963. 
 See Pleasure 
 
 Pallas, one of the Averni near her temple 
 at Athens, vi. 751 
 
 Pan, the rustics think that they hear him 
 piping in the woods, iv. 588 
 
 Panchaean odours, ii. 417 
 
 Pandion, people of, viz. the Athenians, 
 vi. 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. 12i7; 
 children ought to be moved by the kind- 
 nesses of parents, ii. 606 ; blandishment8 
 of children soften the rude dispositions 
 of parents, v. 1016 
 
 Paris, i. 475 
 
 Parthians vainly tried to use lions in war, 
 v. 1309 
 
 Peloponnesus, earthquake in, vi. 586 
 
 Pestilence, among men or other animals, 
 how caused, vi. 1126; that at Athens 
 described, vi. 1137; came from Egypt, 
 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 tiudy of it, 
 i. 1107; ii. 7, 58; v. 10; vi. 68, 80. See 
 Wisdom 
 
 Phosbus, 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. 11971202 
 
 Pipe, to play on. invention of, v. 1382 
 
 Plague, see Pestilence 
 
 Plants, spontaneously produced from the 
 earth, ii. 1158; were the earth's first 
 productions, v. 781 ; are nourished by 
 particles rising from the ground, i. 253 
 
 Pleasure, produced by the removal of the 
 cause of pain, ii. 966 ; no pleasure t
 
 INDEX. 
 
 493 
 
 look on the sufferings of another, il. 3. 
 Pleasure the directress of life, ii. 1 72 ; 
 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 invention 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 tit, ib. 
 
 Pontus Kuximis 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, v. 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 ; 
 tee 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 homceomery of 
 Anaxagoras, i. S30 
 
 Providence, none exercised over the world 
 by the gods, ii. 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 have 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 cause of evil 
 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. 37 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 groundless 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, Samotliracian, vi. 1043 
 
 Rocks, porous, L 349 
 
 Saffron, custom of strewing the theatre* 
 with it, ii. 416 
 
 Sailing, tee Navigation 
 
 Samotliracian rings, vi. 1042 
 
 Saturn, Jupiter saved from being de- 
 voured by him, ii. 638 
 
 Satyrs, supposed to inhabit the woods, tr. 
 582 
 
 Savour, tee Taste 
 
 Sceptics, their doctrine that nothing caa 
 be known, refuted, iv. 470 
 
 Scyllae, no such monsters exist, T. 890 ^ 
 how produced in the imagination, iv. 734 
 
 Sea, how it might be increased after it 
 was first produced, ii. 1109 ; occupies a 
 large portion of the globe, v. 304 ; foun- 
 tains supply the sea, i. 231, 591 ; various 
 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, tee Atoms 
 
 Sense, cannot be possessed by a body ab- 
 solutely hard and solid, ii. 902918; 
 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. 479542; nothing 
 external to the senses can refute them, 
 ib.; nor will they refute one ano'h^i, 
 ib. ; any reasoning against the senses Is 
 therefore mere empty words, iv. 912 ; 
 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, ir. 5JI ; 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 or 
 defective judgment of the mind, iv. 380 
 469 
 
 Sensible beings proceed from atoms void 
 of sense, ii. 841870, 871901 
 
 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, ir. 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 objects 
 on the shore to move, iv. 388; when 
 first used, v. 1441 
 
 Shoes, Sicyonian, iv. 1121 
 
 Showers, Me Rain 
 
 Sicily, what is remarkable in it, besides 
 that it was the birth-place of Empedo- 
 cles, i. 718731 
 
 Sicyonian shoes, iv. 1121
 
 494 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 tidon, earthquake at, vi. 585 
 
 Sight, tee Vision 
 
 Singing, began among men 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 
 
 Bleep, a temporary death, iii. 932 943; 
 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, iii. 112 117 
 
 Smell, the organs of it in different animals 
 delighted or offended by different efflu- 
 via from substances, iv. 675 688 
 
 Snakes, tee Serpent 
 
 Snow, see Hail ; 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 primordial atoms, i. 
 434, seq. 
 
 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, 6. ; 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. 98136 ; 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, heat, air, a 
 certain aura, 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- 
 struction to both, iii. 324 350 ; an 
 opinion of Democritus respecting the 
 oul refuted, iii. 371396 ; soul has less 
 fower in retaining life in the body than 
 
 the mind, iii. 397417; soul proved tj 
 be mortal, and to die with the body, by 
 a series of elaborate argumenis, 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 odours, 
 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, Sfc., when images will not, iv. 
 597 
 
 Southernwood, iv. 124 
 
 Sowing and planting, Nature set men 
 the example of them. v. 1360 
 
 Space, proved to be boundless, i. 957 
 982 ; what would be the consequence if 
 it were not boundless, i. 9S3; empty 
 space and matter ultimately bound one 
 another, i. 1007 
 
 Spectres, see Images. Place of spectres, 
 i. 121; spectre of Homer appeared to 
 Ennius, i. 125 
 
 Speech. From inarticulate sounds and 
 gestures, (v. 1021,) men proceeded by 
 degrees to the formation and use of 
 words, v. 1027; it is not extremely 
 wonderful that men should have framed 
 speech, when even the inferior animals 
 have a sort of speech, v. 105S~ii;89 
 
 Spirit, tee Soul, Mind 
 
 Springs, tee Fountain 
 
 Square. Why a square tower, seen at a 
 distance, appears round, iv. 354 
 
 Stags, see Deer 
 
 Stars, fed by the aether, i. 232 ; v. 525 ; 
 of their motions, v. 510; may be carried 
 round with the heaven, i6. ; 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, see Tempest 
 
 Stymphalian birds slain by Hercules, v, 
 32 
 
 Substance and vacuum compose the ui.i- 
 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; posit.e c*use
 
 INDEX. 
 
 49.5 
 
 of his rising at a certain time, v. 655 
 678 ; of the inequality of days and 
 nights, v. 679702 ; the sun perish- 
 able, like other things in the world, v. 
 1 16 ; fable of Phaethon and the sun's 
 chariot, v. 397 ; ocular delusion, when 
 the sun rises behind hills, 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. 619628 ; the plea- 
 sure of taste is limited to the palate, iv. 
 629 ; why that which is bitter to some, 
 may be sweet to others, iv. C35 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 from 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, y. 30 
 Thunder, not supernatural, vi. 8591 ; 
 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 
 corrosion 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 tumultuously, 
 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, vi. 
 99, 247 
 
 Thunder and Thunderbolts, composed of 
 fiery and sulphureous, not of windy or 
 wat'ery, particles, vi. 219 
 fnyrsus. Lucretius struck with the thyr- 
 
 su of the hope of praise, i. 922 
 Time, is nothing of itself, i. 460 ; cannot 
 be contemplated apart from the progress 
 of events, 01 their epochs, i. 463; future 
 time cannot affect the dead more than 
 
 the time before thei Mrtli affected them, 
 iii. 842 
 
 Tityus. No Tityus among the dead, ii.. 
 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; mind 
 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, see Cities 
 
 Traffic by sea first practised, v. 1441 
 
 Transmigration of souls refuted, iii. 754 
 
 Trees, their branches sometimes take fire 
 from attrition, i. 896 ; vi. 459. See 
 Plants 
 
 Tripod of Apollo, i. 740; v. 113 
 
 Tropics bound the sun's course, v. 616. 
 689 
 
 True and false. Knowledge of what it 
 true, and what is false, is from the 
 senses, iv. 480 ; tee Senses. True cha- 
 racter of a man shown in adversity and 
 trials, iii. 55 
 
 Tuscan, see Etruscan 
 
 Venus. Lucretius invokes her, i. 1 ; the 
 influence 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, tee Serpent 
 
 Vision, caused by means of images that 
 are perpetually flowing off from tbe sur- 
 faces of bodies, iv. 215 239; how we 
 know the distance of an object, 245 
 256 ; why bright objects hurt ihe 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 3l6, 426430: nothing 
 that is, as it were, a third nature, dis- 
 tinct from body and space, i. 431, 446. 
 See Space 
 
 Voice, tee Sound. That the voice is Ji- 
 vided, as that of a crier among the 
 crowd, iv. 5C5, 605 
 
 Vacuity. Must be vacuity in the world, or 
 matter could not move and act, I. 330 
 346; 371 384; many bodies that seem 
 solid have much vacuity in them, i. 347 
 358 ; bodies are lighter or heavier at 
 they have more or less vacuity in them.
 
 496 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 i 359 368; vacuity must yield an 
 equal passage to light and heavy bodies, 
 ii. 239. See Space 
 
 Vultures, attracted by the smell of car- 
 casses, iv. 682 
 
 Vulturnus, wind so called, v. 744 
 
 Walls of the world, i. e. our heavens, i. 74 
 
 Water, its fluidity caused by the smooth- 
 ness and volubility of its atoms, iii. 190; 
 perpetual circulation of water, i. 251 ; 
 vi. 232 ; the mass of water wastes and 
 is renewed, vi. 608 639 
 
 Weight. Why bodies of equal bulk are 
 not all of equal weight, i. 359. See Va- 
 cuity 
 
 Wells, water in, why colder in summer 
 than in winter, vi. 8-41 
 
 Whirlwinds, fiery, called pretterei by the 
 Greeks, vi. 423 
 
 Will, freedom of, whence it arises, accord- 
 ing to Lucretius, ii. 256, 292; restrain- 
 ing power of the will, ii. 276 
 
 Wind, a substance, though invisible, i. 
 278 
 
 Wine, why it passes through a strainer 
 sooner than oil, ii. 390 ; sometimes dis- 
 persed by lightning, when the vessel 
 containing it remains uninjured, vi. 231 
 
 Wisdom. The advantages of the wise ii. 
 7 ; true wisdom taught by Epicurus, T. 
 10 
 
 Words, origin of. See Speech 
 
 Woj-ld. This world was formed by the 
 blind workings of senseless matter, i. 
 1020 ; other worlds have probably 
 been formed in the same way, ii. 1064 
 1089 ; not made by superior intelligent 
 powers, v. 157, teq. ; not ruled by such 
 powers, ii. 1090 1104; could not have 
 been made for the sake of man, v. 157; 
 is mortal, ii. 1145; so ill-contrived that 
 it abounds with faults, v. 196 
 
 Worms spring from mud, ii. 871 
 
 Wormwood, iv. 123 
 
 Xerxes, his power could not save him 
 from death, iii. 1042 
 
 Year, its four seasons, v. 736 
 
 Youth of man and horse, in the Centaur, 
 
 incompatible, v. 881 ; golden statues of 
 
 youths, ii. 24 
 
 Zephyr, the herald of spring, v. 737 ; ita 
 whisperings among the reeds were th 
 origin of wind music, v. 1381 
 
 Zones, torrid and frigid, v. 205 
 
 : PRINTED BT WILLtXM CLOWES AND SOXS, 
 BTAMFOBD STliBET AXD CUAUINQ CBO3*.
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST 
 
 OF 
 
 BOHN'S LIBRARIES. 
 
 NOVEMBER, 1895.
 
 ' I may say in regard to all manner of books, Bonn's Publication Series is the 
 usefullest thing I know.' THOMAS CARLYLE. 
 
 ' The respectable and sometimes excellent translations of Bonn's Library hava 
 done for literature what railroads have done for internal intercourse.' EMERSON. 
 
 ' An important body of cheap literature, for which every living worker in this 
 country who draws strength from the past has reason to be grateful.' 
 
 Professor HENRY MORLEY. 
 
 BOHN'S LIBRARIES, 
 
 STANDARD LIBRARY . 
 HISTORICAL LIBRARY 
 PHILOSOPHICAL LIBRARY 
 ECCLESIASTICAL LIBRARY 
 ANTIQUARIAN LIBRARY . 
 ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY . 
 SPORTS AND GAMES . 
 CLASSICAL LIBRARY . 
 COLLEGIATE SERIES . 
 SCIENTIFIC LIBRARY. 
 ECONOMICS AND FINANCE 
 REFERENCE LIBRARY 
 NOVELISTS' LIBRARY 
 ARTISTS' LIBRARY . 
 CHEAP SERIES 
 
 343 
 23 
 17 
 15 
 36 
 75 
 16 
 
 108 
 
 10 
 
 46 
 
 5 
 
 30 
 13 
 10 
 55 
 
 SELECT LIBRARY OF STANDARD WORKS 31 
 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES. 
 VOLUMES, 
 
 1 Messrs. Bell are determined to do more than maintain the reputation of 
 " Eohn's Libraries."' Guardian. 
 
 ' The imprint of Bohn's Standard Library is a guaranty of good editing. 1 
 
 Critic (N.Y.) 
 
 'This new and attractive foim in which the volumes of Bohn's Standard 
 Library are being issued is not meant to hide either indifference in the selection of 
 books included in this well-known series, or carelessness in the editing.' 
 
 St, James's Gazette, 
 
 ' Messrs. Bell & Sons are making constant additions of an eminently acceptable 
 character to "Bohn's Libraries," '^-
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF BOOKS 
 
 CONTAINED IN 
 
 BOHN'S LIBRARIES 
 
 748 Vols., Small Post 8vo. cloth. Price 160. 
 Complete Detailed Catalogue will be stnt OH application. 
 
 Addison's Works. 6 vols. 
 
 each. 
 Aeschylus. 
 
 Swanwick. 
 
 y, 6d. 
 Verse Trans, by Anna 
 
 Prose Trans, by T. A. Buckley. 
 
 3J. 6d. 
 Agasslz & Gould's Comparative Phy- 
 
 siology. ST. 
 Alfleri's Tragedies. Trans, by Bowring. 
 
 2 vols y. 6</. each. 
 Alford's Queen's English, is. & is. 6d. 
 Allen's Battles of the British Navy. 
 
 2 vols. y. each. 
 Ammlanus Marcellinus. Trans, by 
 
 C. D. Yonge. js. 6d. 
 Andersen's Danish Tales. Trans, by 
 
 Caroline Peachey. y. 
 Antoninus (Marcus Aurelius). Trans. 
 
 by George Long. y. 6d. 
 Apollonius Rhodius. The Argonautica. 
 
 Trans, by E. P. Coleridge. 51. 
 Apulelus, The Works of. y. 
 Ariosto's Orlando Furioso. Trans, by 
 
 W. S. Rose, a vols. y. each. 
 Aristophanes. Trans, by W. J. Hickie. 
 
 2 vols. y. each. 
 Aristotle's Works. 5 vols . 5*- each : 
 
 a vols, y. 6d. each. 
 
 Arrian. Trans, by E. J. Chinnock. y. 
 Ascham's Scholemaster. (J. E. B. 
 
 Mayor.) is. 
 Bacon's Essays and Historical Works. 
 
 v . 6d. ; Essays, is. and is. 6d. ; 
 
 Novum Organum, and Advancement 
 
 of Learning, y. 
 BaUads and Songs of the Peasantry. 
 
 By Robert Bell. y. 6d, 
 Bass's Lexicon to the Greek Test as. 
 
 Bax s Manual of the History of Philo- 
 sophy. 5'. 
 
 Beaumont * Fletcher. Leigh Hunt i 
 
 Selections, y. 6d. 
 Bechsteln'i Cage and Chamber Birds. 
 
 y- 
 
 Becfcmann's History of Inventions, 
 
 a vols. y. 6d, each. 
 Bede'i Ecclesiastical History tad the 
 
 A. S. Chronicle, y. 
 Bell (Sir C.)0n the Hand. 51. 
 
 Anatomy of Expression, y, 
 
 Bentley'i Phalaris. 5*. 
 
 Bjornson's A me and the Fisher T !!. 
 
 Trans, by W. H. Low. 31.6* 
 Blair's Chronological Tables. 10*. 
 
 Index of Dates, a vols. 5*. wch. 
 BlMk's Introduction to the Old Testa- 
 ment, a vols. y. each, 
 Boethlnj' Consolation of Phflosopcy, 
 
 Ac. y. 
 Bonn's Dictionary of Poetical Qoota- 
 
 tions. 6s. 
 Bond's Handy- book for Vertfytof 
 
 Dates. Ac. y. 
 Bonomi's Nineveh. $*. 
 Boswells Life cf Johnson. (Napier). 
 
 6 vols. y. 64 each. 
 
 (Croker.) 5 voJa. KM. 
 
 Brand's Popular Antiqoitlei. S wk. 
 
 y. each. 
 Bremer's Works. Trans, by Mary 
 
 Howitt. 4 vols. y. . e^h. 
 BridgewUr Treatises. 9 vols. Various 
 
 [ I.ti'S. 
 
 Brink (B. Ten). Early English LJ- 
 
 turet a vols. y. 6i ech, 
 l.veLecturesooSbatasiMre y.64
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF 
 
 Browne's (Sir Thomas) Works. 3 vols. 
 
 y. 6d. each. 
 Buchanan's Dictionary of Scientific 
 
 Terms. 6s. 
 Buckland's Geology and Mineralogy. 
 
 2 vols. I5J. 
 Burke's Works and Speeches. 8 vols. 
 
 3-f. 6d. each. The Sublime and 
 
 Beautiful, is. & is. 6d. Reflections on 
 
 the French Revolution, is. 
 
 Life, by Sir James Prior. 3^. 6d. 
 
 Burney'a Evelina. 3*. 6d. Cecilia 
 
 2 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 Burns' Life by Lockhart. Revised by 
 
 W. Scott Douglas, y. 6d. 
 Burn's Ancient Rome. 75. 6d. 
 Butler's Analogy of Religion, and 
 
 Sermons. 35. 6d. 
 Butler's Hudibras. 5.1. ; or 2 vols., 
 
 y. each. 
 
 Caesar. Trans, by W. A. M'Devitte. 5*. 
 Camoens' Lusiad. Mickle's Transla- 
 tion, revised, y. 6d. 
 Carafas (The) of Maddaloni. By 
 
 Alfred de Reumont. y. 6d. 
 Carpenter's Mechanical Philosophy 55. 
 
 Vegetable Physiology. 6s. Animal 
 
 Physiology. 6s. 
 Carrel's Counter Revolution under 
 
 Charles II. and James II. y. 6d. 
 Cattermole's Evenings at Haddon 
 
 Hall. 5*. 
 Catullus and Tibullus. Trans, by 
 
 W. K. Kelly. 55. 
 
 Cellini's Memoirs. (Roscoe.) y. 6d. 
 Cervantes' Exemplary Novels. Trans. 
 
 by W. K. Kelly. 3.. 6d. 
 Don Quixote. Motteux's Trans. 
 
 revised. 2 vols. 3^. 6d. each. 
 Galatea. Trans, by G. W. ]. 
 
 Gyll. y. 6d. 
 Chalmers On Man. y. 
 Channing'B The Perfect Life. is. and 
 
 is. 6d. 
 
 Chaucer's Works. Bell's Edition, re- 
 vised by Skeat. 4 vols. 3J. 6d. ea. 
 Chess Congress of 1862 By J. 
 
 Lb'wenthal. y. 
 
 Chevreul on Colour. 5*. and -js. 6d. 
 ChlUingworth's The Religion of Pro- 
 testants, y. 6d. 
 China : Pictorial, Descriptive, and 
 
 Historical, . 
 
 Chronicles of the Crusades. 
 Cicero's Works. 7 vols. 
 
 5.1. 
 
 each. 
 
 1 vol., y. 6d. 
 
 - Friendship and Old Age. is. and 
 is. 6d. 
 
 Clark's Heraldry. (Planch6.) y. and 
 
 IS*- 
 
 Classic Tales. 3*. 6d. 
 Coleridge's Prose Works. (Ashe.) 
 
 6 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Comte's Philosophy of the Sciences. 
 (G. H. Lewes.) 5*. 
 
 - Positive Philosophy. 3 vols. 5^. 
 each. 
 
 Conde's History of the Arabs in Spain. 
 
 3 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 Cooper's Biographical Dictionary. 
 
 2 vols. y. each. 
 
 Cowper's Works. (Sou they.) 8 vols. 
 
 y. 6d. each. 
 Core's House of Austria. 4 vols. y. 6d. 
 
 each. Memoirs of Marlborough. 
 
 3 vols. 3.1. 6d. each. Atlas to 
 Marlborough's Campaigns. IQS. 6d. 
 
 Cralk's Pursuit of Knowledge, y. 
 Craven's Young Sportsman's Manual. 
 
 5* 
 
 Crulkshank's Punch and Judy. y. 
 
 Three Courses and a Dessert, y. 
 Cunningham's Lives of British Painters. 
 
 3 vols. 3.*. 6d. each. 
 Dante. Trans, by Rev. H. F. Gary. 
 
 y. 6d. Inferno. Separate, is. and 
 
 is. 6d. Purgatorio. is. and is. 6d. 
 
 Paradise, is. and u. 6d. 
 
 - Trans, by I. C. Wright. (Flax- 
 man's Illustrations. ) y. 
 
 - Inferno. Italian Text and Trans. 
 by Dr. Carlyle. 5*. 
 
 - Purgatorio. Italian Text and 
 Trans, by W. S. Dugdale. 5^. 
 
 De Commines' Memoirs. Trans, oy 
 
 A. R. Scoble. 2 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 Defoe's Novels and Miscel. Works. 
 
 6 vols. y. 6d. each. Robinson 
 
 Crusoe (Vol. VII). 3*. 6d. or y. 
 
 The Plague in London, is. and 
 
 is. 6d. 
 Delolme on the Constitution of Eng- 
 
 land. 3.1. 6d. 
 Demmins" Arms and Armour. Trans. 
 
 by C. C. BlacK. 75. 6<t,
 
 BOHtrs LIBRARIES. 
 
 Demosthenes' Orations. Trans, by 
 C. Rann Kennedy. 4 vo ls. y. and 
 I vol. y. 6d. 
 
 Orations On the Crown, is. and 
 is. 6a. 
 
 De Steel's Corinne. Trans, by Emily 
 Baldwin and Paulina Driver. 3f. 6rf. 
 Devey's Logic. 5^. 
 
 Dictionary of Greek and Latin Quota- 
 tions, y. 
 
 of Poetical Quotations (Bohn). 6s. 
 
 of Scientific Terms. (Buchanan.) 6s 
 
 of Biography. (Cooper.) 2 vols. 
 
 f. each. 
 
 of Noted Names of Fiction. 
 
 (Wheeler.) y. 
 
 of Obsolete and Provincial Eng- 
 lish (Wright.) 2 vols. y. each. 
 
 Didron's Christian Iconography, a vols. 
 y. each. 
 
 Diogenes Laertius. Trans, by C. D. 
 
 Yonge. y. 
 
 Dobree's Adversaria. (Wagner), a vols. 
 5*. each. 
 
 Dodd's Epigrammatists. 6s. 
 Donaldson's Theatre of the Greeks, y. 
 Draper's History of the Intellectual 
 
 Development of Europe, a vols. 5*. 
 
 each. 
 Dunlop's History of Fiction, a vols. 
 
 y. each. 
 Dyer's History of Pompeii, js. 6d. 
 
 The City of Rome. 5*. 
 
 Dyer's British Popular Customs. 5*. 
 Early Travels in Palestine. (Wright.) y. 
 Eaton's Waterloo Days. u. and is. 6d. 
 Eber's Egyptian Princess. Trans, by 
 
 E. S. Buchheim. y. 6d. 
 Edgeworth's Stories for Children. 
 
 y. 6d. 
 
 Ellis' Specimens of Early English Me- 
 trical Romances. (Halliwell.) y. 
 Elze's Life of Shakespeare. Trans, by 
 
 L. Dora Schmitz. y. 
 Emerson's Works. 3 vols. 3.1. &/. each, 
 
 or 5 vols. u. each. 
 Ennemoser's History oi Magic, a vols. 
 
 y. each. 
 
 Epictetus. Trans, by George Long. y. 
 Euripides. Trans, by E. P. Coleridge. 
 
 2 vols. y. each. 
 Eusebius' Eccl. History. Trans, by 
 
 C. F. Cruse, y. 
 
 Fielding*. Joseph Andrew* y <* 
 Tom Jones, a vols. y . . each. 
 Amelia, y. 
 
 ures on Sculpture. 6*. 
 
 Foster's Works. lovoU. y. 6rf. each. 
 Franklin'g Autobiography, u. 
 
 Qesta Romanorum, Trant. b* Swaa 
 & Hooper, y. 
 
 Gibbon's Decline and Fall i vote. 
 y. M. each. 
 
 OUbart's Banking, a voU. y. ch. 
 
 GilBla*. Trans, by Smollett 61. 
 
 airaldus Cambrensis. 5*. 
 
 Goethe's Works and Correspondence, 
 including Autobiography and Amah, 
 Faust. Elective affinities. Wenher. 
 Wilhelm Meister. Poems and BfcBads. 
 Dramas. Reinecke Fox. Tour in Italy 
 and Miscellaneous Travels. Early and 
 Miscellaneous Letters, Correspon- 
 dence with Kckcrmann and Sorrt. 
 Zelter and Schiller. 4c. Ac By 
 various transLitors. 16 vols. 31. 6rf. 
 each. 
 
 - Faust Text with Hayward's 
 Translation. (Buchheim. ) 51. 
 
 - Faust Pan I. Trans, by Anna 
 Swanwick. is. and is. 6d. 
 
 - Boyhood. (Part I. of the Auto- 
 biography.) Trans, by J. Oxenford. 
 is. and is. 6J. 
 
 - Reinecke Fox. Trans, by A. 
 Rogers, is. and it. 6d. 
 
 Goldsmith's Works. (Gibbs.) 5 vob. 
 y. fid. each. 
 
 - Plavs. i^. and is. &/. Vicar o< 
 Wakeneld. is. and is. 6d. 
 
 Grammont'i Memoirs and Botoobd 
 
 Tracts. 5^. 
 Gray 1 ! Letters. (D. C Towy.) 
 
 Greek Anthology. Trans, by E. Borfm. 
 
 y. 
 Greek Romances. (Theafene* and 
 
 Chariclea, Daphnis and Chtoe, CU- 
 
 topho and Leucippe.) Trans, by Re. 
 
 R. Smith, y.
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF 
 
 Greek Testament. 5*. 
 
 Greene, Marlowe, and Ben Jonson's 
 
 Poems. (Robert Bell.) 3*. 6d. 
 Gregory's Evidences of the Christian 
 
 Religion. y. 6d. 
 Grimm's Gammer Grethel. Trans, by 
 
 E. Taylor, y. 6d. 
 
 German Tales. Trans, by Mrs. 
 
 Hunt. 2 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Grossi's Marco Visconti. y. 6d. 
 Guizot's Origin of Representative 
 
 Government in Europe. Trans, by 
 
 A. R. Scoble. y. 6d. 
 The English Revolution of 1640. 
 
 Trans, by W. Hazlitt. 3*. 6d. 
 .. History of Civilisation. Trans, by 
 
 W. Hazlitt. 3 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Hall (Robert). Miscellaneous Works. 
 
 y. 6d. 
 Handbooks of Athletic Sports. 8 vols. 
 
 y. 6d. each. 
 Handbook of Card and Table Games 
 
 2 vols. 3^. 6d. each. 
 
 of Proverbs. By H. G. Bohn. y. 
 
 of Foreign Proverbs. y. 
 
 Hard wick's History of the Thirty-nine 
 
 Articles. 5.?. 
 Harvey's Circulation of the Blood. 
 
 (Bowie.) is. and is. 6d. 
 Hauff's Tales. Trans, by S. Mendel. 
 
 y. 6d. 
 
 The Caravan and Sheik of Alex- 
 andria, is. and is. 6d. 
 
 Hawthorne's Novels and Tales. 4 vols. 
 
 y. 6d. each. 
 Hazlitt's Lectures and Essays. 7 vols. 
 
 y. 6d. each. 
 Beaton's History of Painting. (Cosmo 
 
 Monkhouse. ) 51. 
 Hegel's Philosophy of History. Trans. 
 
 by J. Sibree. 5.5. 
 
 Heine's Poems. Trans, by E. A. Bow- 
 ring, y. 6d. 
 Travel Pictures. Trans, by Francis 
 
 htorr. y. 6d. 
 Helps (Sir Arthur). Life of Thomas 
 
 Brassey. is. and is. 6d. 
 Henderson's Historical Documents of 
 
 the Middle Ages. 5^. 
 Henfrey's English Coins. (Keary.) 6s. 
 Henry (Matthew) On the Psalms. 5^. 
 Henry of Huntingdon's History. Trans. 
 
 by T. Forester. 5*. 
 
 Herodotus. Trans, by H. F. Gary. 
 3 j. 6d. 
 
 Wheeler's Analysis and Summary 
 of. $s. Turner's Notes on. 5^. 
 
 Hesiod, Callimachus and Theognis. 
 
 Trans, by Rev. J. Banks. 5-r. 
 Hoffmann's Tales. The Serapion 
 
 Brethren. Trans, by Lieut. -Colonel 
 
 Ewing. 2 vols. y. 6d. 
 Hogg's Experimental and Natural 
 
 Philosophy, y. 
 Holbein's Dance of Death and Bible 
 
 Cuts. S.T. 
 Homer. Trans, by T. A. Buckley. 3 
 
 vols. 55. each. 
 
 Pope's Translation. With Flax- 
 man's Illustrations. 2 vols. 5.$. each. 
 
 Cowper's Translation. 2 vols. 
 
 y. 6d. each. 
 
 Hooper's Waterloo, y. 6d. 
 
 Horace. Smart's Translation, revised, 
 
 by Buckley, y. 6d. 
 Hugo's Dramatic Works. Trans, by 
 
 Mrs. Crosland and F. L. Slous. y. 6d. 
 
 Hernani. Trans, by Mrs. Cros- 
 land. is. 
 
 Poems. Trans, by various writers. 
 
 Collected by J . H. L. Williams. 3*. 6d. 
 
 Humboldt's Cosmos. Trans, by Otte", 
 Paul, and Dallas. 4 vols. y. 6d. each, 
 and i voL 51. 
 
 Personal Narrative of his Travels . 
 
 Trans, by T. Ross. 3 vols. 51. each. 
 
 Views of Nature. Trans, by Otte" 
 
 and Bohn. y. 
 Humphreys' Coin Collector's Mauual. 
 
 2 vols. 5.5. each. 
 Hungary, History of. y. 6d. 
 Hunt's Poetry of Science. 51. 
 Hutchinson's Memoirs, y. 6d. 
 India before the Sepoy Mutiny, y. 
 Ingulph's Chronicles. 5.5. 
 Irving (Washington). Complete 
 
 Works. 15 vols. 3*. 6d. each ; or 
 
 in 1 8 vols. is. each, and 2 vols. is. 6d. 
 
 each. 
 
 Life and Letters. By Pierre E. 
 
 Irving. 2 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Isocrates. Trans, by J. H. Freese. 
 
 Vol. I. $s. 
 James' Life of Richard Cceur de Lion. 
 
 2 vols. 31. 6d. each. 
 
 Life and Times of Louis XIV. 
 
 2 vols. y. 6d. each.
 
 BOffN'S LIBRARIES. 
 
 Jameson (Mrs.) Shakespeare's Hero- 
 ines. 31. 6rf. 
 
 Jesse (E.) Anecdotes of Dogs. y. 
 Jesse (J. H.) Memoirs of the Court of 
 England under the Stuarts. 3 vols. 
 y. each. 
 
 Memoirs of the Pretenders, y. 
 
 Johnson's Lives of the Poets. (Napier). 
 
 3 vols. y. 6rf. each. 
 Josephus. Whiston's Translation, re- 
 vised by Rev. A. R. Shilleto. 5 vols. 
 3*. 6d. each. 
 
 Joyce's Scientific Dialogues, y. 
 Jukes-Browne's Handbook of Physical 
 Geology. 7*. 6d. Handbook of His- 
 torical Geology. 6*. The Building 
 of the British Isles. 7*. 6d. 
 Julian the Emperor. Trans by Rev. 
 
 C. W. King. 51. 
 Junius's Letters. Woodfalrs Edition, 
 
 revised. 2 vols. 3*. 6d. each. 
 Justin, Cornelius Nepos, and Eutropius. 
 
 Trans, by Rev. J. S. Watson, y. 
 Juvenal, Persius, Sulpicia, and Lu- 
 
 cilius. Trans, by L. Evans, y. 
 Kant's Critique of Pure Reason. Trans, 
 byj. M. D. Meiklejohn. y> 
 
 Prolegomena, &c. Trans, by E. 
 
 Belfort Bax. y. 
 
 Keightley's Fairy Mythology, y. 
 Classical Mythology. Revised by Dr. 
 L. Schmitz. 5^. 
 Kidd On Man. y. 6rf. 
 Kirby On Animals. 2 vols. y. each. 
 Knight's Knowledge is Power. y. 
 La Fontaine's Fables. Trans, by E. 
 Wright. *. f>d. 
 
 each. 
 . Restoration of ***& 
 
 France. Trans, by Capu Kalter. 
 
 4 vols. 3*. 6rf. each. 
 
 . French Revolution of 1848. y.M- 
 
 Lamb's Essays of Elia^nd EUana. 
 
 y. 6</. ( orin 3 vols. u. each. 
 JL Memorialsand Letters. TaKourd , 
 
 Edition, revised by W. C. Haxutt. 
 
 2 vols. y- 6< each. 
 __ Specimens of the EnglishDrainaUC 
 Poets of the Time of bhzabeth. Jfc 
 
 Lanzl't History of Painting in Italy. 
 Trans, by T. Roscoe. 3 vob. y. dd. 
 each. 
 
 Lappenberg't England under tbt 
 Anglo-Saxon Kings. Trans, by & 
 Thorpe, a vols. y. 6d. each. 
 LectUTM on Painting. By Barry, Opte 
 
 and Fuseli. y. 
 Leonardo da Vinci's Treatise on Paint* 
 
 ing. Trans, by J. F. Rigaud. y 
 Lepslui' Letters from Egypt, Ac Tram. 
 
 by L. and J. R Homer, y. 
 Lesslrg-i Dramatic Works. Trans, by 
 Ernest BelL a vols. y. U. each, 
 Nathan the Wise and Minna VM 
 Barnhelm. is. and u. fad. Laokooo. 
 Dramatic Notes. Ac. Trans, by E. C 
 Beasley and Helen Zimmern. v. 64. 
 Laokoon separate, u. orii. 6d. 
 Lilly 1 ! Introduction to Astrology. 
 
 (ZadkieL) 5*. 
 Llvy. Trans.byDr.SpiUanandoi 
 
 4 vols. 5*. each. 
 Locke Philosophical Works. (J. A. 
 
 St. John), a vols. y. 6d. e^n. 
 _ Lile. By Lord King. y. 6* 
 Lodge'! Portraits. 8 vols. y. each. 
 Longfellow 1 ! Poetical and Prose Work*. 
 
 a vols. y. each. 
 London's Natural History. 
 Lowndei' Bibliographer's MannaL 
 
 vols. y. each. 
 Lucan's Pharsalia. Trans, by M. l 
 
 Riley. y. 
 Ludan'i Dialogues. Trans, by M. 
 
 Williams, y. 
 Lucretiua. Trans, by Re- I- 
 
 Watson, y. 
 Luthert Table Talk. Trans, by V 
 
 Hailitt. y. 6d. 
 - Autobiography. 
 
 Trans, by W. Haxlitc y- 6 *- 
 MacnUTelll'i History of Florence. * 
 
 Trans, y. 6d, 
 Mallet's Northern Antiquitie 
 
 wders 
 . each.
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF 
 
 Martial's Epigrams. Trans, -js. 6d. 
 Martineau's History of England, 
 1800-15. y. 6d. 
 
 History of the Peace, 1816-46. 
 
 4 vols. 3-f. 6d. each. 
 
 Matthew Paris. Trans, by Dr. Giles. 
 
 3 vols. 5-f. each. 
 Matthew of Westminster. Trans, by 
 
 C. D. Yonge. 2 vols. $s. each. 
 Maxwell's Victories of Wellington. 55. 
 Mcnzel's History of Germany. Trans. 
 
 by Mrs. Horrocks. 3 vols. 35. 6d. ea. 
 Michael Augelo and Raffaelle. By 
 
 Duppa and Q. de Quincy. y. 
 Michelet's French Revolution. Trans. 
 
 by C. Cocks. 3^. 6d. 
 Mignet's French Revolution, y. 6d. 
 MiU (John Stuart). Selected Essays. 
 
 [/ the press. 
 Miller's Philosophy of History. 4 vols. 
 
 y. 6d. each. 
 
 Milton's Poetical Works. (J. Mont- 
 gomery.) 2 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Prose Works. (J. A. St. John.) 
 
 5 vols. 3.?. 6d. each. 
 
 Mitford's Our Village. 2 vols. y. 6d. 
 
 each. 
 Moliere's Dramatic Works. Trans, by 
 
 C. H. Wall. 3 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 The Miser, Tartuffe, The Shop- 
 keeper turned Gentleman, is.&is. 6d. 
 
 Montagu's (Lady M. W.) Letters 
 and Works. (Wharncliffe and Moy 
 Thomas.) 2 vols. y. each. 
 
 Montaigne's Essays. Cotton's Trans, 
 revised by W. C. Hazlitt. 3 vols. 
 y. 6d. ea^h. 
 
 Montesquieu's Spirit ol Laws. Nu- 
 gent's Trans, revised by J. V. 
 Prichard. 2 vols. 35. 6d. each. 
 
 Morphy's Games of Chess. (Lo wen- 
 thai.) y. 
 
 Motley's Dutch Republic. 3 vols. y. 6d. 
 each. 
 
 Mudie's British Birds. (Martin.) 2 vols. 
 y. each. 
 
 Naval and Military Heroes of Great 
 Britain, 6.f. 
 
 Neander's History of the Christian Re- 
 ligion and Church. 10 vols. Life of 
 Christ i vol. Planting and Train- 
 ing of the Church by the Apostles. 
 a vols. History of Christian Dogma. 
 
 2 vols. Memorials of Christian Life 
 in the Early and Middle Ages. 
 16 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Nicolini's History of thejesuits. 5.1. 
 North's Lives of the Norths. (Jessopp.) 
 
 3 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Nugent's Memorials of Hampden. 55. 
 Ockley's History of the Saracens. y.d. 
 Ordericus Vitalis. Trans, by T. 
 
 Forester. 4 vols. y. each. 
 Ovid. Trans, by H. T. Riley. 3 vols. 
 
 51. each. 
 
 Pascal's Thoughts, Trans, by C. 
 Kegan Paul. 35. 6d. 
 
 Pauli's Life of Alfred the Great, &c. 
 5- 
 
 Life of Cromwell, is. and is. 6d. 
 
 Pausanlas" Description of Greece. 
 
 Trans, by Rev. A. R. Shilleto. 2 vols. 
 
 y. each. 
 
 Pearson on the Creed. (Walford.) y. 
 Pepys' Diary. (Braybrooke.) 4 vols. 
 
 5J. each. 
 Percy's Reliques of Ancient English 
 
 Poetry. (Prichard.) 2 vols. 35. 6d. ea. 
 Petrarch's Sonnets. 5.5. 
 Pettigrew's Chronicles of the Tombs. 
 
 5* 
 Philo-Judaeus. Trans, by C. D. Yonge. 
 
 4 vols. 55. each. 
 Pickering's Races of Man. 55. 
 Pindar. Trans, by D. W. Turner, y. 
 Blanche's History of British Costume. 
 
 5* 
 
 Plato. Trans, by H. Gary, G. Burges, 
 and H. Davis. 6 vols. y. each. 
 
 Apology, Crito, Phaedo, Prota- 
 goras, is. and is. 6d. 
 
 Day's Analysis and Index to the 
 
 Dialogues. $s. 
 
 Plautus. Trans, by H. T. Riley. 
 2 vols. 55. each. 
 
 Trinummus, Menaechmi. Aulu- 
 
 laria, Captivi. is. and is. 6d. 
 
 Pliny's Natural History, Trans, by 
 Dr. Bostock and H. T. Riley. 6 vols. 
 5J. each. 
 
 Pliny the Younger, Letters of. Mel- 
 moth's trans, revised by Rev. F. C. T. 
 Bosanquet. $s. 
 
 Plotinus : Select Works of. $s.
 
 BOHN'S LIBRARIES. 
 
 Plutarch's Lives. Trans, by Stewart 
 and Long. 4 vols. y. 6rf. each. 
 
 Moralia. Trans, by Rev. C. W. 
 
 King and Rev. A. R. Shilleto. 2 vols. 
 5.5. each. 
 
 Poetry of America. (W. J. Linton.) 
 
 3*. 6d. 
 
 Political Cyclopaedia. 4 vols. 3*. 6rf.ea. 
 Polyglot of Foreign Proverbs, y. 
 Pope's Poetical Works. (Carruthers.) 
 
 2 vols. 55. each. 
 
 Homer. (J.S.Watson.) 2 vols. 
 
 5*. each. 
 
 Life and Letters. (Carruthers.) y. 
 
 Pottery and Porcelain. (H. G. Bohn.) 
 
 y. and los. 6d. 
 Propertius. Trans, by Rev. P. J. F. 
 
 Gantillon. 3^. 6d. 
 Prout (Father.) Reliques. y. 
 Quintilian's Institutes of Oratory. 
 
 Trans, by Rev. J. S. Watson. 2 vols. 
 
 y. each. 
 Racine's Tragedies. Trans, by R. B. 
 
 Boswell. 2 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 Ranke's History of the Popes. Trans. 
 
 by E. Foster. 3 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Latin and Teutonic Nations. 
 
 Trans, by P. A. Ashworth. y. 6d. 
 
 History of Servia. Trans, by 
 
 Mrs. Kerr. 35. (>d. 
 
 Ronnie's Insect Architecture. (J. G. 
 Wood.) y. 
 
 Reynold's Discourses and Essays. 
 (Beechy. ) 2 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Ricardo's Political Economy. (Con- 
 ner.) 5J. 
 
 Ricnter's Levana. y. 6d. 
 
 Flower Fruit and Thorn Pieces. 
 
 Trans, by Lieut. -Col. Ewing. y. M. 
 
 Roger de Hovenden's Annals. Trans, 
 by Dr. Giles. 2 vols. y. each. 
 
 Roger of Wendover. Trans, by Dr. 
 Giles. 2 vols. y. each. 
 
 Roget's Animal and Vegetable Phy- 
 siology. 2 vols. 6s. each. 
 
 Rome in the Nineteenth Century. (C.A. 
 Eaton.) 2 vols. 5* each. 
 
 Roscoe's Leo X. 2 vols. 3J.6rf.eacl 
 
 Lorenzo de Medici. 3-f. &/. 
 
 Russia, History of. By W. K. Kelly. 
 2 vols. 3*. 6d. each. 
 
 Sallust, Florus.andVelleiusPaterculus. 
 Trans, by Rev. J. S. Watson, y. 
 
 Schiller's Works. I ncluding H i*tory of 
 the Thirty Years' War. Revolt of UM 
 Netherlands. WallcnsUrin, Wfflaun 
 Tell. Don Carlos. Mary Sunn. Maid 
 ofOrleans. Bride of Messina, Robbers. 
 Fiesco. Love and Intrigue. Demetrius. 
 Ghost-Seer. Sport of Divinity. Poems. 
 Aesthetical and Philosophical Eatavs, 
 &c. By various translators, jn.lt, 
 y. 6d. each. 
 
 Mary Stuart and The Maid ol 
 
 Orleans. Trans, by J. Mellish and 
 Anna Swanwick. n. and it. 6J. 
 
 Schlegel (P.). Lectures and Miscrf- 
 laneous Works. 5 vols. y. 64. each. 
 
 (A. W.). Lectures oa Dramatic 
 
 Art and Literature, y. (*/. 
 
 Schopenhauer's Essays. Selected and 
 Trans, by E. Belfort Bax. y 
 
 On the Fourfold Root of the 
 
 Principle of Sufficient Reason and 
 on the Will in Nature. Trans, by 
 Mdme. Hillebrand. 51. 
 
 Schouw'B Earth. Plants, and Man. 
 Trans, by A. HciUrey. 51. 
 
 Schumann's Early Letters. Trans, bf 
 May Herbert, y. 6tL 
 
 Reissmann's Life of. Trans, bj 
 
 A. L. Alger. y. 64 
 
 Seneca on Benefits. Trans, by Aubrey 
 
 Stewart y. 64. 
 Minor Essays and On Clemency. 
 
 Trans, by Aubrey Stewart, y. 
 Sharped History of Egypt a h. 
 
 y. each. 
 Sheridan's Dramatic Works, y. 6t 
 
 Plays. IT. and it. 6tL 
 
 Sismondl's Literature of the Sooth of 
 
 Europe, Trans, by T. Roacoe. a 
 
 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 Six Old English ChronidM. 5*. 
 Smith (Archdeacon). Synony * 
 
 Antonyms, y. 
 Bmith(Adam). Wealth of Nuoi. 
 
 (Belfort Bax) a voU. y. U ch. 
 Theory of Moral CsultaMMI 
 
 y. 6d. 
 Smith (Pye). Geology and So tptm 
 
 Smollett s Notels. 4 '^ &' ( 
 
 Smyth's Lectures on Modem Hittay. 
 a vols. y- * eftch -
 
 10 
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF BOHWS LIBRARIES. 
 
 Sc crates' Ecclesiastical History. y. 
 Sophocles. Trans, by E. P. Coleridge, 
 
 B.A. y. 
 Bouthey's Life of Nelson. 51. 
 
 Life of Wesley. y. 
 
 Life, as told in his Letters. By J. 
 
 Dennis, y. 6d. 
 
 Sozomen's Ecclesiastical History. 5*. 
 Spinoza's Chief Works. Trans, by 
 
 R. H. M. Elwes. 2 vols. 55. each. 
 Stanley's Dutch and Flemish Painters, 
 
 5-*- 
 
 Starling's Noble Deeds of Women. y. 
 Staunton's Chess Players' Handbook. 
 
 y. Chess Praxis, y. Chess Players' 
 
 Companion. y. Chess Tournament 
 
 of 1851. y. 
 Stockhardt's Experimental Chemistry. 
 
 (Heaton.) y. 
 Strabo's Geography. Trans, by 
 
 Falconer and Hamilton. 3 vols. 
 
 y. each. 
 Strickland's Queens of England. 6 
 
 vols. 55. each. Mary Queen of 
 
 Scots. 2 vols. y. each. Tudor 
 
 and Stuart Princesses, y. 
 Stuart & Revett's Antiquities of 
 
 Athens, y. 
 Suetonius' Lives of the Caesars and of 
 
 the Grammarians. Thomson's trans. 
 
 revised by T. Forester. y. 
 Bully's Memoirs. Mrs. Lennox's 
 
 trans, revised. 4 vols. 3^. 6d. each. 
 
 Tacitus. The Oxford trans, revised. 
 
 2 vols. y, each. 
 Tales of the Genii. Trans, by Sir. 
 
 Charles MorelL y. 
 Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered. Trans. 
 
 by J. H. Wiffen. y. 
 Taylor's Holy Living and Holy Dying. 
 
 y. 6d. 
 Terence and Phaedrus. Trans, by H. T. 
 
 Riley. y. 
 Theocritus, Bion, Moschus, and 
 
 Tyrtaeus. Trans, by Rev. J. Banks. 
 
 5 s - 
 
 Tbeodoret and Evagrius. 5^. 
 Thierry's Norman Conquest. Trans. 
 
 by W. Hazlitt. 2 vols. y. 6d. 
 
 each. 
 
 Thucydides. Trans by Rev. H. Dale. 
 2 vols. 3.;. 6d. each. 
 
 Wheeler's Analysis and Summary 
 
 of. y. 
 
 Trevelyan's Ladies in Parliament is. 
 
 and is. 6d. 
 Ulricl's Shakespeare's Dramatic Art. 
 
 Trans, by L. Dora Schmitz. 2 vols. 
 
 y. 6d. each. 
 Uncle Tom's Cabin, y. 6d. 
 
 Ure's Cotton Manufacture of Great 
 
 Britain. 2 vols. y. each. 
 Philosophy of Manufacture. 75. 6d. 
 
 Vasari's Lives of the Painters. Trans, 
 by Mrs. Foster. 6 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Virgil Trans, by A. Hamilton Bryce, 
 
 LL.D. y. 6d. 
 Voltaire's Tales. Trans, by R. B. 
 
 Boswell. y. 6d. 
 
 Walton's Angler, y. 
 
 Lives. (A. H. Bullen.) 5*. 
 
 Waterloo Days. By C. A. Eaton. 
 
 is. and is. 6d. 
 Wellington, Life of. By 'An Old 
 
 Soldier.' y. 
 Werner's Templars in Cyprus. Trans. 
 
 by E. A. M. Lewis, y. 6d. 
 Westropp's Handbook of Archaeology. 
 
 & 
 Wheatley. On the Book of Common 
 
 Prayer, y. 6d. 
 Wheelers Dictionary of Noted Names 
 
 of Fiction. 5^. 
 
 White's Natural History of Selborne. 
 5* 
 
 Wieseler's Synopsis of the Gospels. 
 5*. 
 
 William of Malmesbury's Chronicle. 
 5* 
 
 Wright's Dictionary of Obsolete and 
 Provincial English. 2 vols. 5*. each. 
 
 Xenophon. Trans, by Rev. J. S. Wat- 
 son and Rev. H. Dale. 3 vols, y. ea. 
 
 Young's Travels in France, 1787-89. 
 (M. Betham-Edwards.) 3*. 6d. 
 
 Tour in Ireland, 1776-9. (A. W. 
 
 Hutton.) 2 vols. y. 6d. each. 
 
 Yule-Tide Stories (B. Thorpe.) y.
 
 New Editions, fcap. 8vo. 2*. 64. each net. 
 
 THE ALDINE EDITION 
 
 BRITISH POETS. 
 
 'This excellent edition of the English clsut.-iies, with their complete t*xt and 
 scholarly introductions, tire something very different from the chip Tolum* of 
 extracts which are just now so much too common.' St. Jamtt't OairtU. 
 
 ' An excellent sarlos. Small, handy, and complete.' Saturday K> 
 
 Akenside. Edited by Rev. A. Dyce. 
 Seattle. Edited by Rev. A. Dyce. 
 * Blake. Edited by W. M. Rossetti. 
 
 'Burns. Edited by G. A. Aitkcn. 
 
 a vols. 
 Butler. Edited by R. B. Johnson. 
 
 2 vols. 
 Campbell. Edited by His Son- 
 
 hi-law, the Rev. A. W. Hill. With 
 
 Memoir by W. Allingham. 
 Chatterton. Edited by the Rev. 
 
 W. W. Skeat, M.A. 2 vole. 
 Chaucer. Edited by Dr. R.Morris, 
 
 with Memoir hy Sir H. Kicolas. 6 voU. 
 Churchill. Edited by Jas. Hannay. 
 
 2 vols. 
 
 * Coleridge. Edited by T. Ashe, 
 
 B.A. 2 vol?. 
 Colling. Edited by W. Moy 
 
 Thomas. 
 Dryden, Edited by the Rev, It. 
 
 Hooper, M.A. 5 vols. 
 Goldsmith. Edited by Austin 
 
 Dohson. 
 'Gray. Edited by J. Bradshaw, 
 
 LL.i>. 
 
 Herbert. Edited by the Rev. A, 
 
 Grosart. 
 
 Herrick. Edited by George 
 
 Saintsbury. 2 vols. 
 
 Keats. Edited by the late Lore 
 
 Honghton. 
 Milton. Edited by Dr. Bradshaw. 
 
 Pamell. ] Edited by G/A. Aitken.". 
 
 be had bound 
 
 Pope. Edited by G. R. Denn. 
 
 With Memoir by John Denni*. .1 ntU. 
 
 Prior. Edited by B. B. Johnwn. 
 
 8 veil-. 
 
 Raleigh and Wotton. Will; 
 
 lection* fr..m the Writin of otkrr 
 
 COURTLY POKTS from 1510 t.. 
 
 Edite<l by Ven. ArehdMcoa Huub. 
 
 D.C.L. 
 Rogers. Edited by Edward BU 
 
 M.A. 
 Scott. Edited by John DennU. 
 
 5 vol*. 
 
 Shakespeare's Poems EdiM 
 
 Rev. A. Dyce. 
 
 Shelley. Edited by H. Boston 
 Fonnan. 5 rob, 
 
 Spenser. Edited by J. Payne Col- 
 lier. 5 T0l. 
 
 Surrey. Edited by J. 
 
 ; ,'-! r. 
 
 Swift. Edited by the RT. B. 
 
 Hooper, M.A. 3 roll, 
 Thomson. Edited by tbe Ber. D. 
 
 C. Toovey. 2TOU. 
 Vaughan. 8red F 
 
 Pioui EjtcuUtiooj. Kdiwd by Uw 
 
 Her. H. LT*. 
 Wordsworth. Edited by 1 
 
 Dowden. 7 roU, 
 
 Wyatt Edited by J. 
 loster. 
 
 To It followed by 
 Cowper. Edited by John Bme, 
 
 F 9.A. 8 TO!*. 
 Kirke Whltfi. Edited by J. P< 
 
 Briwoe. 
 
 Young. 2 TO!*. 
 in Irish ** ****
 
 THE ONLY AUTHORISED AND COMPLETE 'WEBSTER.' 
 
 WEBSTER'S 
 
 INTERNATIONAL DICTIONARY. 
 
 Medium 4/0. 2118 pages, 3500 illustrations. 
 
 Prices: Cloth, i us. 6d. ; half-calf, 2 2s.; half-russia, 2 55.; 
 
 full-calf, 2 8s.; full-russia, 2 123.; 
 
 half-morocco, with Patent Marginal Index, 2 8s. 
 
 Also in 2 vols. cloth, i 145. ; half-calf, 2 I2S.; half-russia, 2 i8s. 
 
 full-calf, 3 33. 
 
 In addition to the Dictionary of Words, with their pronunciation, ety- 
 mology, alternative spellings, and various meanings, illustrated by quotations 
 md numerous woodcuts, there are several valuable appendices, comprising a 
 Pronouncing Gazetteer of the World ; Vocabularies of Scripture, Greek, Latin, 
 md English Proper Names ; a Dictionary of the noted Names of Fiction ; a 
 Brief History of the English Language ; a Dictionary of Foreign Quotations, 
 Words, Phrases, Proverbs, &c. ; a Biographical Dictionary with 10,000 
 Names, &c. 
 
 SOME PRESS OPINIONS ON THE NEW EDITION. 
 
 ' We believe that, all things considered, this will be found to be the best 
 xisting English dictionary in one volume. We do not know of any work 
 similar in size and price which can approach it in completeness of vocabulary, 
 variety of information, and general usefulness.' Guardian. 
 
 'A magnificent edition of Webster's immortal Dictionary.' Daily Telegraph. 
 
 Prospectuses, with Specimen Pages, on application. 
 
 WEBSTER'S 
 BRIEF INTERNATIONAL DICTIONARY. 
 
 With 800 Illustrations. Demy 8z>0., 3^. 
 
 A. Pronouncing Dictionary of the English Language, 
 Abridged from Webster's International Dictionary. 
 
 With a Treatise on Pronunciation, List of Prefixes and Suffixes, Rules 
 
 br Spelling, a Pronouncing Vocabulary of Proper Names in History, 
 
 Geography and Mythology 7 , and Tables of English and Indian Money, 
 
 Weights, and Measures. 
 
 LONDON : GEORGE BELL & SONS, YORK STREET, COVEXT GARDF.N.