On the Nature of the Universe (Oxford World’s Classics) (14 page)

For one thing makes another clear; and night

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Won’t snatch the path from you until you have seen

Right to the heart of nature’s mysteries,

So surely things will kindle light for things.

A joy it is, when the strong winds of storm

Stir up the waters of a mighty sea,

To watch from shore the troubles of another.

No pleasure this in any man’s distress,

But joy to see the ills from which you are spared,

And joy to see great armies locked in conflict

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Across the plains, yourself free from the danger.

But nothing sweeter is than this: to dwell

In quiet halls and lofty sanctuaries

Well fortified by doctrines of the wise,

And look thence down on others wandering

And seeking all astray the path of life—

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The clash of intellects, the fight for honours,

The lust for wealth, the efforts night and day

With toil and sweat to scale the heights of power.

O wretched minds of men! O hearts so blind!

How dark the life, how great the perils are

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In which whatever time is given is passed!

Do you not see that Nature cries for this,

And only this, that pain from out the body

Shall be removed away, and mind enjoy

Sweet sense of pleasure, freed from care and fear?

Therefore we see that human nature’s needs

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Are small indeed: things that take pain away,

And such as simple pleasures can supply.

Nature herself demands nothing more sweet,

If golden statues of young men be lacking

Whose hands hold flaming torches through the house

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Providing light for nightly revellings,

If with no gleam of gold or flash of silver

The hall shines bright, if no lyre echoes round

High gilded ceilings and fine panelled walls,

So long as men, lying in company together

On the soft grass beside a flowing stream

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Beneath a tall tree’s shade, at little cost

Find pleasure for their bodies; most of all

When weather smiles and the season of the year

Scatters the meadows and green lanes with flowers.

And fevers leave the body no more swiftly,

If figured tapestries and purple sheets

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Are what you toss on, than if you have to lie

With plain plebeian blanket on your bed.

Wherefore, since our bodies profit nothing

From riches or noble birth or glory of kingdom,

We must believe our minds also gain nothing.

Unless perchance the sight of mimic war

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When your fine legions throng the great Parade

Strong in auxiliaries and cavalry,

Alike in arms, alike with ardour fired,

Or when you see the fleet come surging out

And spreading far and wide across the sea,

These things excite and thrill your mind, and drive

Religion’s dread away, and fears of death

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Leave your heart empty then, from care set free.

But if we see that all this is ludicrous,

And that in truth men’s cares and haunting fears

Reck nothing of clash of arms or brutal missiles

And boldly walk with kings and potentates,

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Nor stand in awe of the bright sheen of gold

Or brilliant splendour of a purple robe,

How can you doubt that reason has this power,

Reason alone? Our lives in very truth

Are but an endless labour in the dark.

For we, like children frightened of the dark,

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Are sometimes frightened in the light—of things

No more to be feared than fears that in the dark

Distress a child, thinking they may come true.

Therefore this terror and darkness of the mind

Not by the sun’s rays, nor the bright shafts of day,

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Must be dispersed, as is most necessary,

But by the face of nature and her laws.

Come, listen now, and I’ll explain the motions

By which the generative bodies of matter

Beget the various things and, once begotten,

Dissolve them, and by what force they are driven to do this,

And what power of movement through the mighty void

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Is given them. Do you now mark my words.

Matter, for sure, is not one solid mass

Close packed together. We see that everything

Diminishes, and through the long lapse of time

We note that all things seem to melt away

As years and age withdraw them from our sight.

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And yet the sum of things stays unimpaired.

This is because when particles are shed

From a thing they diminish it as they leave it,

And then increase the object that they come to.

They make the one grow old, the other flourish,

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But do not linger there. The sum of things

Is thus forever renewed, and mortals live

By mutual interchange one from another.

Some races increase, others fade away,

And in short space the breeds of living creatures

Change, and like runners pass on the torch of life.

Now if you think that atoms can be at rest

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And can by resting beget new movements in things,

You are lost, and wander very far from truth.

For since the atoms wander through the void,

All must be driven either by their own weight

Or by some chance blow from another atom.

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For often when, as they move, they meet and clash,

They leap apart at once in different directions.

No wonder, since they are extremely hard

And solid, and there is nothing behind to stop them.

To see more clearly that all particles of matter

Are constantly being tossed about, remember

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That there is no bottom to the universe,

That primal atoms have nowhere to rest,

Since space is without end or any limit.

And I have shown by many words, and proved

By surest reasoning that it extends

Boundless in all directions everywhere.

Since that stands true, no rest, we may be sure,

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Is given to atoms in the void abyss

But rather, as unceasing different

Movements impel them, some, colliding, leap

Great intervals apart, while others recoil

Only a short distance from the impact.

And those whose union being more closely packed

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Leap back short distances after a collision,

Being fast entangled by their own complex shapes,

These constitute strong roots of stone and the brute bulk

Of iron, and other objects of that kind.

Of the rest, which wander further through the void,

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A few leap far apart, and far recoil

Over great intervals; these make for us

Thin air, and make the shining light of sun.

And many wander through the mighty void

Rejected from all union with others,

Unable anywhere to gain admittance

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And bring their movements into harmony.

An image and similitude of this

Is always moving present to our eyes.

Consider sunbeams. When the sun’s rays let in

Pass through the darkness of a shuttered room,

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You will see a multitude of tiny bodies

All mingling in a multitude of ways

Inside the sunbeam, moving in the void,

Seeming to be engaged in endless strife,

Battle, and warfare, troop attacking troop,

And never a respite, harried constantly,

With meetings and with partings everywhere.

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From this you can imagine what it is

For atoms to be tossed perpetually

In endless motion through the mighty void.

To some extent a small thing may afford

An image of great things, a footprint of a concept.

A further reason why you should give your mind

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To bodies you see dancing in a sunbeam

Is that their dancing shows that within matter

Secret and hidden motions also lie.

For many you will see are struck by blows

Unseen, and changing course are driven back

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Reversed on all sides, here, there, everywhere.

These wandering movements, you may be sure, are caused

In every case by atoms. Atoms first

Move of themselves, next bodies that are formed

In a small group and nearest to the force

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Of the primal atoms are set moving by them,