On the Nature of the Universe (Oxford World’s Classics) (34 page)

Nor yet is this confined to smells and tastes:

The look of things also and their various colours

Do not all suit the senses in the same way

But to some they come much sharper than to others.

The cock, that claps the night out with his wings

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And with clear voice is wont to call the dawn,

Before him ravening lions cannot stand

Or stare, so instantly flight fills their minds,

Doubtless since in the cock’s body certain seeds

There are which when sent into the lion’s eyes

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Dig holes in the pupils and cause stinging pain

Which fierce though they may be they cannot endure.

And yet these cannot hurt our sight at all,

Either because they do not penetrate

Or if they do they find a ready exit

From the eyes and so do not by lingering

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Damage the light of the eyes in any part.

Now I shall tell you what things move the mind,

And whence those things which come into the mind

Do come, in a few words I shall explain.

First I say this, that images of things

Many in many modes wander about

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In all directions, thin, and easily

Unite when they meet in the air, like spiders’ webs

Or leaf of gold, of texture much more thin

Than those which strike the eyes and provoke vision.

For they penetrate the chinks of the body, and stir

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The thin substance of the mind and provoke sensation.

Centaurs and mermaids in this way we see

And dogs with many heads like Cerberus,

And images of men when after death

Their bones lie in the cold embrace of earth.

For images of every kind fly everywhere;

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Some of their own accord form in the air,

Some are thrown off from many different things,

Others combine together from these shapes.

For sure no image of a Centaur came from life

Since no such animal did ever exist.

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But when the images of man and horse

Happen to meet, they easily adhere

Immediately, as I said before,

Because of their subtle nature and thin texture.

All things of this kind are made in this way.

And since being very light they are so mobile,

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As I showed before, any one of these fine images

By a single touch can easily move the mind,

For the mind is thin and marvellously mobile.

That these things happen as I say, you may know

Quite easily from what I now shall tell you.

Since this is like that—what in the mind we see

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Like what we see with our eyes—it needs must be

That both are caused by similar processes.

Now therefore since I have shown that I see a lion

By means of images which strike the eyes,

It is clear that in like way the mind is moved.

It sees the lion and everything else by images

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No less than the eyes, though what it sees is thinner.

Nor is there any other reason why,

When sleep has laid out the limbs, the mind is awake,

Than this, that these same images assail

The mind as when we are awake. Indeed

We seem to see a man who has left this life

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And death and earth have mastered him. So great

Is the power of nature. All our senses

Lie quiet throughout the body and are blocked,

Unable to refute the false by the true.

And memory faints in sleep, and languishes,

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And when the mind thinks it sees the man alive

It does not dissent, and say that long ago

The man was dead and in death’s mighty power.

And it is not wonderful that images move

And sway their arms and other limbs in rhythm—

For the image does seem to do this in our sleep.

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The fact is that when the first one perishes

And a new one is born and takes its place,

The former seems to have changed its attitude.

All this of course takes place extremely swiftly,

So great is the velocity and so great the store

Of them, so great the quantity of atoms

In any single moment of sensation

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Always available to keep up the supply.

And many are the questions to be asked

About these things, and many explanations given

If we desire to make the matter clear.

The first question is, why is it that the mind,

As soon as it fancies something, thinks of it?

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Is there an image that waits upon our will

And as soon as we wish presents itself to us,

Of sea or land, as we may choose, or sky?

Assemblies of men, processions, banquets, battles,

Does nature create them at a word and prepare them for us?

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And all the while, at the same place and time,

Other minds are thinking of quite different things.

And what when we see in dreams the images

Moving in time and swaying supple limbs,

Swinging one supple arm after the other

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In fluid gestures and repeating the movement

Foot meeting foot, as eyes direct? Ah, steeped in art,

Well trained the wandering images must be

That in the night have learned such games to play!

Or will this rather be the reason? that

In one instant of time that we perceive and one voice

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Is uttered, many units of time are there

All unperceived, though reason knows of them,

And at any moment all these images

Are present ready to hand in every place.

And because they are thin the mind cannot clearly see

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Any except those which it strains to perceive;

The rest all perish, and only those survive

Such as it has prepared itself to see:

And it does prepare itself, and hopes to see

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What follows on each thing; and it does see it.

Do you not know that when even our eyes begin

To look at thin things they strain and prepare themselves

And otherwise we could not clearly see them.

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And even in things plainly visible

You will find that unless you apply your mind to them

They might just as well be far removed from you.

What wonder is it then, if the mind misses

Everything except what it is itself intent on?

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So from small signs we draw great inferences

And lead ourselves into error and delusion.

It sometimes happens also that the image

Which follows is of a different kind: a woman

Seems in our grasp to have become a man.

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And different shapes and different ages follow.

But sleep and oblivion cause us not to wonder.

Now here’s a fault you must most keenly avoid,

An error from which with great care you must flee:

Do not suppose that the clear light of the eyes

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Was made that we might see our way before us,

Or that the ends of thighs and calves were jointed

And set on the foundation of the feet

To help us with great strides to march along,

Or that our arms were fitted to stout shoulders

With ministering hands on either side

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To enable us to do what life requires.

Every interpretation of this kind

Is quite perverse, turns reason upside down,

Since nothing is born in our body that we may use it,

But what is born itself creates the use.

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There was no sight before the eyes were born

Or speech of words before the tongue was made,

But long before speech is the tongue’s origin,

Long before sound was heard our ears were made,

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And all our limbs existed, as I think,

Before their use. It cannot therefore be

That they could have grown for the sake of being used.

No. But fighting hand to hand in battle,

Tearing of limbs and fouling bodies with blood

Came long before bright shafts of weapons flew;

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And nature taught men to avoid a wound

Before through art the left arm opposed a shield.

And sure to give the wearied body rest

Is much more ancient than soft mattresses.

Men quenched their thirst long before cups were made.

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