On the other hand, the type of fire that is intermediate between white [b] and bright is one that reaches the moisture in the eyes and blends with it, but is not brilliant. As the fire shines through the moisture with which it is mixed, it yields the color of blood, which we call red. And when bright is mixed with red and white, we get orange. But it would be unwise to state the proportions among them, even if one could know them. It is impossible, even approximately, to provide a proof or a likely account on these matters.
[c] Now red mixed with black and white is of course purple. When this combination is burnt further and more black is mixed with it, we get violet. Gray is a mixture of black and white, and the mixture of orange and gray produces amber. Beige comes from white mixed with orange. White combined with bright and immersed in a saturated black produces a cobalt blue color, which, when blended with white, becomes turquoise. A mixture [d] of amber with black yields green. As for the other hues, it should be fairly clear from the above cases by what mixtures they are to be represented in a way that preserves our “likely story.” But if anyone in considering these matters were to put them to an actual test, he would demonstrate his ignorance of the difference between the human and the divine. It is god who possesses both the knowledge and power required to mix a plurality into a unity and, conversely, to dissolve a unity into a plurality, while no human being could possess either of these, whether at the present time or at any time in the future.
[e] And so all these things were taken in hand, their natures being determined then by necessity in the way we’ve described, by the craftsman of the most perfect and excellent among things that come to be, at the time when he brought forth that self-sufficient, most perfect god. Although he did make use of the relevant auxiliary causes, it was he himself who gave their fair design to all that comes to be. That is why we must distinguish two forms of cause, the divine and the necessary. First, the divine, for [69] which we must search in all things if we are to gain a life of happiness to the extent that our nature allows, and second, the necessary, for which we must search for the sake of the divine. Our reason is that without the necessary, those other objects, about which we are serious, cannot on their own be discerned, and hence cannot be comprehended or partaken of in any other way.
We have now sorted out the different kinds of cause, which lie ready for us like lumber for carpenters. From them we are to weave together the remainder of our account. So let us briefly return to our starting point and quickly proceed to the same place from which we arrived at our [b] present position.37 Let us try to put a final “head” on our account, one that fits in with our previous discussion.
To repeat what was said at the outset, the things we see were in a condition of disorderliness when the god introduced as much proportionality into them and in as many ways—making each thing proportional both to itself and to other things—as was possible for making them be commensurable and proportionate. For at the time they had no proportionality at all, except by chance, nor did any of them qualify at all for the names we now use to name them, names like fire, water, etc. All these [c] things, rather, the god first gave order to, and then out of them he proceeded to construct this universe, a single living thing that contains within itself all living things, mortal or immortal. He himself fashioned those that were divine, but assigned his own progeny the task of fashioning the generation of those that were mortal.
They imitated him: having taken the immortal origin of the soul, they proceeded next to encase it within a round mortal body [the head], and to give it the entire body as its vehicle. And within the body they built another kind of soul as well, the mortal kind, which contains within it those dreadful but necessary disturbances: pleasure, first of all, evil’s most [d] powerful lure; then pains, that make us run away from what is good; besides these, boldness also and fear, foolish counselors both; then also the spirit of anger hard to assuage, and expectation easily led astray. These they fused with unreasoning sense perception and all-venturing lust, and so, as was necessary, they constructed the mortal type of soul. In the face of these disturbances they scrupled to stain the divine soul only to the extent that this was absolutely necessary, and so they provided a home [e] for the mortal soul in another place in the body, away from the other, once they had built an isthmus as boundary between the head and the chest by situating a neck between them to keep them apart. Inside the chest, then, and in what is called the trunk they proceeded to enclose the mortal type of soul. And since one part of the mortal soul was naturally superior to the other, they built the hollow of the trunk in sections, dividing them the way that women’s quarters are divided from men’s. They situated [70] the midriff between the sections to serve as a partition. Now the part of the mortal soul that exhibits manliness and spirit, the ambitious part, they settled nearer the head, between the midriff and the neck, so that it might listen to reason and together with it restrain by force the part consisting of appetites, should the latter at any time refuse outright to obey the dictates of reason coming down from the citadel. The heart, then, which [b] ties the veins together, the spring from which blood courses with vigorous pulse throughout all the bodily members, they set in the guardhouse. That way, if spirit’s might should boil over at a report from reason that some wrongful act involving these members is taking place—something being done to them from outside or even something originating from the appetites within—every bodily part that is sensitive may be keenly sensitized, through all the narrow vessels, to the exhortations or threats and so listen and follow completely. In this way the best part among them all can be left in charge.
The gods foreknew that the pounding of the heart (which occurs when [c] one expects what one fears or when one’s spirit is aroused) would, like all such swelling of the passions, be caused by fire. So they devised something to relieve the pounding: they implanted lungs, a structure that is first of all soft and without blood and that secondly contains pores bored through it like a sponge. This enables it to take in breath and drink and thereby cool the heart, bringing it respite and relaxation in the heat. That, [d] then, is why they cut the passages of the windpipe down to the lungs, and situated the lungs around the heart like padding, so that when spirit within the heart should reach its peak, the heart might pound against something that gives way to it and be cooled down. By laboring less, it might be better able to join spirit in serving reason.
The part of the soul that has appetites for food and drink and whatever [e] else it feels a need for, given the body’s nature, they settled in the area between the midriff and the boundary toward the navel. In the whole of this region they constructed something like a trough for the body’s nourishment. Here they tied this part of the soul down like a beast, a wild one, but one they could not avoid sustaining along with the others if a mortal race were ever to be. They assigned it its position there, to keep it ever feeding at its trough, living as far away as possible from the part that takes counsel, and making as little clamor and noise as possible, thereby [71] letting the supreme part take its counsel in peace about what is beneficial for one and all. They knew that this part of the soul was not going to understand the deliverances of reason and that even if it were in one way or another to have some awareness of them, it would not have an innate regard for any of them, but would be much more enticed by images and phantoms night and day. Hence the god conspired with this very tendency [b] by constructing a liver, a structure which he situated in the dwelling place of this part of the soul. He made it into something dense, smooth, bright and sweet, though also having a bitter quality, so that the force of the thoughts sent down from the mind might be stamped upon it as upon a mirror that receives the stamps and returns visible images. So whenever the force of the mind’s thoughts could avail itself of a congenial portion of the liver’s bitterness and threaten it with severe command, it could then frighten this part of the soul. And by infusing the bitterness all over the liver, it could project bilious colors onto it and shrink the whole liver, [c]
making it wrinkled and rough. It could curve and shrivel up the liver’s lobe and block up and close off its receptacles and portal fissures, thereby causing pains and bouts of nausea. And again, whenever thought’s gentle inspiration should paint quite opposite pictures, its force would bring respite from the bitterness by refusing to stir up or to make contact with a nature opposite to its own. It would instead use the liver’s own natural [d] sweetness on it and restore the whole extent of it to be straight and smooth and free, and make that portion of the soul that inhabits the region around the liver gracious and well behaved, conducting itself with moderation during the night when, seeing that it has no share in reason and understanding, it practices divination by dreams. For our creators recalled their father’s instruction to make the mortal race as excellent as possible, and so, redeeming [e] even the base part of ourselves in this way, they set the center of divination here, so that it might have some grasp of truth.
The claim that god gave divination as a gift to human folly has good support: while he is in his right mind no one engages in divination, however divinely inspired and true it may be, but only when his power of understanding is bound in sleep or by sickness, or when some sort of possession works a change in him. On the other hand, it takes a man who has his wits about him to recall and ponder the pronouncements produced by this state of divination or possession, whether in sleep or while awake. It takes such a man to thoroughly analyze any and all visions that are seen, [72] to determine how and for whom they signify some future, past or present good or evil. But as long as the fit remains on him, the man is incompetent to render judgment on his own visions and voices. As the ancient proverb well puts it, “Only a man of sound mind may know himself and conduct his own affairs.” This is the reason why it is customary practice to appoint [b] interpreters to render judgment on an inspired divination. These persons are called “diviners” by some who are entirely ignorant of the fact that they are expositors of utterances or visions communicated through riddles. Instead of “diviners,” the correct thing to call them is, “interpreters of things divined.”
This, then, explains why the liver’s nature is what it is, and why it is situated in the region we say—it is for the purpose of divination. Now while each creature is still alive, an organ of this sort will display marks that are fairly clear, but once its life has gone, the organ turns blind and its divinations are too faint to display any clear marks. Moreover, the [c] neighboring organ situated on its left turns out to have a structure which is meant to serve the liver in keeping it bright and clean continuously, like a dust cloth provided for wiping a mirror, placed next to it and always available. Hence, whenever impurities of one sort or another, the effects of bodily illnesses, turn up all around the liver, the spleen, a loosely-woven organ with hollow spaces that contain no blood, cleans them all away and absorbs them. In consequence it becomes engorged with the impurities it [d] has cleaned off, swells to great size and festers. Later, when the body’s cleansing is complete, the swelling subsides, and the spleen once again shrinks back to its normal size.
So, as for our questions concerning the soul—to what extent it is mortal and to what extent divine; where its parts are situated, with what organs they are associated, and why they are situated apart from one another—that the truth has been told is something we could affirm only if we had divine confirmation. But that our account is surely at least a “likely” one is a claim we must risk, both now and as we proceed to examine the matter more closely. Let that be our claim, then.
Our next topic must be pursued along the same lines. This was to [e] describe how the rest of the body came to be.38 The following train of reasoning should explain its composition best of all. The creators of our race knew that we were going to be undisciplined in matters of food and drink. They knew that our gluttony would lead us to consume much more than the moderate amount we needed. So, to prevent the swift destruction of our mortal race by diseases and to forestall its immediate, premature [73] demise, they had the foresight to create the lower abdomen, as it’s called, as a receptacle for storing the excess food and drink. They wound the intestines round in coils to prevent the nourishment from passing through so quickly that the body would of necessity require fresh nourishment just as quickly, thereby rendering it insatiable. Such gluttony would make our whole race incapable of philosophy and the arts, and incapable of heeding the most divine part within us.
[b] As for flesh and bones and things of that nature, this is how it is. The starting point for all these was the formation of marrow. For life’s chains, as long as the soul remains bound to the body, are bound within the marrow, giving roots for the mortal race. The marrow itself came to be out of other things. For the god isolated from their respective kinds those primary triangles which were undistorted and smooth and hence, owing to their exactness, were particularly well suited to make up fire, water, air [c] and earth. He mixed them together in the right proportions, and from them made the marrow, a “universal seed” contrived for every mortal kind. Next, he implanted in the marrow the various types of soul and bound them fast in it. And in making his initial distribution, he proceeded immediately to divide the marrow into the number and kinds of shapes that matched the number and kinds of shapes that the types of soul were to possess, type by type. He then proceeded to mold the “field,” as it were, [d] that was to receive the divine seed, making it round, and called this portion of the marrow, “brain.” Each living thing was at its completion to have a head to function as a container for this marrow. That, however, which was to hold fast the remaining, mortal part of the soul, he divided into shapes that were at once round and elongated, all of which he named “marrow.” And from these as from anchors he put out bonds to secure the whole soul and so he proceeded to construct our bodies all around this marrow, beginning with the formation of solid bone as a covering for the whole of it.
[e] This is how he constructed bone. He sifted earth that was pure and smooth, kneaded it and soaked it with marrow. Next, he set this mixture in fire, and then dipped it in water, then back in fire, followed by water again. By moving it this way repeatedly from the one and then back to the other, he made it insoluble by both. He made use of this material in shaping a round, bony globe to enclose the brain, and left it with a narrow [74] passage out. From the material he then proceeded to mold vertebrae to enclose marrow of the neck and back, and set them in place one underneath another, beginning with the head and proceeding along the whole length of the trunk, to function as pivots. And so, to preserve all of the seed, he fenced it in with a stony enclosure. In this enclosure he made joints, employing in their case the character of the Different situated between them to allow them to move and to flex.
[b] Moreover, the god thought that bone as such was rather too brittle and inflexible, and also that repeatedly getting extremely hot and cold by turns would cause it to disintegrate and to destroy in short order the seed within it. That is why he contrived to make sinews and flesh. He bound all the limbs together with sinews that could contract and relax, and so enabled the body to flex about the pivots and to stretch itself out. The flesh he made as a defense against summer’s heat and as protection against winter’s cold. And, as protection against injuries, too, he made the flesh so that it [c] would give way softly and gently to bodies like the felted coverings we wear. He made it to contain within itself a warm moisture that would come out as perspiration during summertime, when, by moistening the body on the outside, it would impart the body’s own coolness to the whole of it. And conversely, in wintertime this moisture would provide an adequate defense, by means of this fire, against the frost which surrounds it and attacks it from outside. Such were the designs of him who molded us like wax: he made a mixture using water, fire and earth, which he adjusted together, and created a compound of acid and brine, a fermented [d] mixture which he combined with the previous mixture, and so he formed flesh, sappy and soft. The sinews he made out of a mixture of bone and unfermented flesh, to make up a
single yellow stuff whose character was intermediate between them both. That is the reason the sinews came to have a stretchier and tougher character than flesh, yet softer and more moist than bone. With these the god wrapped the bones and the marrow. First he bound the bones to each other with sinews, and then he laid a [e] shroud of flesh upon them all.
All those bones that had more soul than others he proceeded to wrap in a very thin layer of flesh, while those that contained less he wrapped in a very thick layer of very dense flesh. And indeed, at the joints of the bones, where it appeared that reason did not absolutely require the presence of flesh, he introduced only a thin layer of flesh, so that the ability of the joints to flex would not be impeded, a condition that would have made it very difficult for the bodies to move. A further reason was this: if there were a thick layer of flesh there, packed extremely densely together, its hardness would cause a kind of insensibility, which would make thinking less retentive and more obscure. This he wanted to prevent.
This explains why thighs and calves, the area around the hips, arms [75] (both upper and lower), and all other bodily parts where there are no joints as well as all the internal bones, are all fully provided with flesh. It is because they have only small amounts of soul in their marrow, and so are devoid of intelligence. On the other hand, all those bodily parts that do possess intelligence are less fleshy, except perhaps for a fleshy thing—the tongue, for example—that was created to be itself an organ of sensation. But in most cases it is as I said. For there is no way that anything whose generation and composition are a consequence of Necessity can accommodate [b] the combination of thick bone and massive flesh with keen and responsive sensation. If these two characteristics had not refused their concomitance, our heads above all else would have been so constituted as to possess this combination, and the human race, crowned with a head fortified with flesh and sinews would have a life twice, or many more times as long, a healthier and less painful life than the one we have now. As it was, however, our makers calculated the pros and cons of giving our race greater longevity [c] but making it worse, versus making it better, though less long-lived, and decided that the superior though shorter life-span was in every way preferable for everyone to the longer but inferior one. This is why they capped the head with a sparse layer of bone—and not with flesh and sinew, given that the head has no joints. For all these reasons, then, the head has turned out to be more sensitive and intelligent but also, in every man’s case, much [d] weaker than the body to which it is attached. With this in mind the god thus positioned sinews at the very edge of the head, around the neck, and welded them uniformly. To these sinews he fastened the ends of the jawbones underneath the face. The other sinews he shared out among all the limbs, fastening joint to joint.
Complete Works Page 193