Cicero's Tusculan Disputations
Gods must have the same qualities in a greater degree; and not only
have them, but employ them in the best and greatest works. The universe
is the best and greatest work; therefore it must be governed by the
wisdom and providence of the Gods.
Lastly, as we have sufficiently shown that those glorious and luminous
bodies which we behold are Deities--I mean the sun, the moon, the fixed
and wandering stars, the firmament, and the world itself, and those
other things also which have any singular virtue, and are of any great
utility to human kind--it follows that all things are governed by
providence and a divine mind. But enough has been said on the first
part.
XXXII. It is now incumbent on me to prove that all things are subjected
to nature, and most beautifully directed by her. But, first of all, it
is proper to explain precisely what that nature is, in order to come to
the more easy understanding of what I would demonstrate. Some think
that nature is a certain irrational power exciting in bodies the
necessary motions. Others, that it is an intelligent power, acting by
order and method, designing some end in every cause, and always aiming
at that end, whose works express such skill as no art, no hand, can
imitate; for, they say, such is the virtue of its seed, that, however
small it is, if it falls into a place proper for its reception, and
meets with matter conducive to its nourishment and increase, it forms
and produces everything in its respective kind; either vegetables,
which receive their nourishment from their roots; or animals, endowed
with motion, sense, appetite, and abilities to beget their likeness.
Some apply the word nature to everything; as Epicurus does, who
acknowledges no cause, but atoms, a vacuum, and their accidents. But
when we[155] say that nature forms and governs the world, we do not
apply it to a clod of earth, or piece of stone, or anything of that
sort, whose parts have not the necessary cohesion,[156] but to a tree,
in which there is not the appearance of chance, but of order and a
resemblance of art.
XXXIII. But if the art of nature gives life and increase to vegetables,
without doubt it supports the earth itself; for, being impregnated with
seeds, she produces every kind of vegetable, and embracing their roots,
she nourishes and increases them; while, in her turn, she receives her
nourishment from the other elements, and by her exhalations gives
proper sustenance to the air, the sky, and all the superior bodies. If
nature gives vigor and support to the earth, by the same reason she has
an influence over the rest of the world; for as the earth gives
nourishment to vegetables, so the air is the preservation of animals.
The air sees with us, hears with us, and utters sounds with us; without
it, there would be no seeing, hearing, or sounding. It even moves with
us; for wherever we go, whatever motion we make, it seems to retire and
give place to us.
That which inclines to the centre, that which rises from it to the
surface, and that which rolls about the centre, constitute the
universal world, and make one entire nature; and as there are four
sorts of bodies, the continuance of nature is caused by their
reciprocal changes; for the water arises from the earth, the air from
the water, and the fire from the air; and, reversing this order, the
air arises from fire, the water from the air, and from the water the
earth, the lowest of the four elements, of which all beings are formed.
Thus by their continual motions backward and forward, upward and
downward, the conjunction of the several parts of the universe is
preserved; a union which, in the beauty we now behold it, must be
eternal, or at least of a very long duration, and almost for an
infinite space of time; and, whichever it is, the universe must of
consequence be governed by nature. For what art of navigating fleets,
or of marshalling an army, and--to instance the produce of nature--what
vine, what tree, what animated form and conformation of their members,
give us so great an indication of skill as appears in the universe?
Therefore we must either deny that there is the least trace of an
intelligent nature, or acknowledge that the world is governed by it.
But since the universe contains all particular beings, as well as their
seeds, can we say that it is not itself governed by nature? That would
be the same as saying that the teeth and the beard of man are the work
of nature, but that the man himself is not. Thus the effect would be
understood to be greater than the cause.
XXXIV. Now, the universe sows, as I may say, plants, produces, raises,
nourishes, and preserves what nature administers, as members and parts
of itself. If nature, therefore, governs them, she must also govern the
universe. And, lastly, in nature's administration there is nothing
faulty. She produced the best possible effect out of those elements
which existed. Let any one show how it could have been better. But that
can never be; and whoever attempts to mend it will either make it
worse, or aim at impossibilities.
But if all the parts of the universe are so constituted that nothing
could be better for use or beauty, let us consider whether this is the
effect of chance, or whether, in such a state they could possibly
cohere, but by the direction of wisdom and divine providence. Nature,
therefore, cannot be void of reason, if art can bring nothing to
perfection without it, and if the works of nature exceed those of art.
How is it consistent with common-sense that when you view an image or a
picture, you imagine it is wrought by art; when you behold afar off a
ship under sail, you judge it is steered by reason and art; when you
see a dial or water-clock,[157] you believe the hours are shown by art,
and not by chance; and yet that you should imagine that the universe,
which contains all arts and the artificers, can be void of reason and
understanding?
But if that sphere which was lately made by our friend Posidonius, the
regular revolutions of which show the course of the sun, moon, and five
wandering stars, as it is every day and night performed, were carried
into Scythia or Britain, who, in those barbarous countries, would doubt
that that sphere had been made so perfect by the exertion of reason?
XXXV. Yet these people[158] doubt whether the universe, from whence all
things arise and are made, is not the effect of chance, or some
necessity, rather than the work of reason and a divine mind. According
to them, Archimedes shows more knowledge in representing the motions of
the celestial globe than nature does in causing them, though the copy
is so infinitely beneath the original. The shepherd in Attius,[159] who
had never seen a ship, when he perceived from a mountain afar off the
divine vessel of the Argonauts, surprised and frighted at this new
object, expressed himself in this manner:
What horrid bulk is that before my eyes,
Which o'er the deep with noise and vigor flies?
It turns the whirlpools up, its force so strong,
And drives the billows as it rolls along.
The ocean's violence it fiercely braves;
Runs furious on, and throws about the waves.
Swiftly impetuous in its course, and loud,
Like the dire bursting of a show'ry cloud;
Or, like a rock, forced by the winds and rain,
Now whirl'd aloft, then plunged into the main.
But hold! perhaps the Earth and Neptune jar,
And fiercely wage an elemental war;
Or Triton with his trident has o'erthrown
His den, and loosen'd from the roots the stone;
The rocky fragment, from the bottom torn,
Is lifted up, and on the surface borne.
At first he is in suspense at the sight of this unknown object; but on
seeing the young mariners, and hearing their singing, he says,
Like sportive dolphins, with their snouts they roar;[160]
and afterward goes on,
Loud in my ears methinks their voices ring,
As if I heard the God Sylvanus sing.
As at first view the shepherd thinks he sees something inanimate and
insensible, but afterward, judging by more trustworthy indications, he
begins to figure to himself what it is; so philosophers, if they are
surprised at first at the sight of the universe, ought, when they have
considered the regular, uniform, and immutable motions of it, to
conceive that there is some Being that is not only an inhabitant of
this celestial and divine mansion, but a ruler and a governor, as
architect of this mighty fabric.
XXXVI. Now, in my opinion, they[161] do not seem to have even the least
suspicion that the heavens and earth afford anything marvellous. For,
in the first place, the earth is situated in the middle part of the
universe, and is surrounded on all sides by the air, which we breathe,
and which is called "aer,"[162] which, indeed, is a Greek word; but by
constant use it is well understood by our countrymen, for, indeed, it
is employed as a Latin word. The air is encompassed by the boundless
ether (sky), which consists of the fires above. This word we borrow
also, for we use _aether_ in Latin as well as _aer;_ though Pacuvius
thus expresses it,
--This, of which I speak,
In Latin's _coelum_, _aether_ call'd in Greek.
As though he were not a Greek into whose mouth he puts this sentence;
but he is speaking in Latin, though we listen as if he were speaking
Greek; for, as he says elsewhere,
His speech discovers him a Grecian born.
But to return to more important matters. In the sky innumerable fiery
stars exist, of which the sun is the chief, enlightening all with his
refulgent splendor, and being by many degrees larger than the whole
earth; and this multitude of vast fires are so far from hurting the
earth, and things terrestrial, that they are of benefit to them;
whereas, if they were moved from their stations, we should inevitably
be burned through the want of a proper moderation and temperature of
heat.
XXXVII. Is it possible for any man to behold these things, and yet
imagine that certain solid and individual bodies move by their natural
force and gravitation, and that a world so beautifully adorned was made
by their fortuitous concourse? He who believes this may as well believe
that if a great quantity of the one-and-twenty letters, composed either
of gold or any other matter, were thrown upon the ground, they would
fall into such order as legibly to form the Annals of Ennius. I doubt
whether fortune could make a single verse of them. How, therefore, can
these people assert that the world was made by the fortuitous concourse
of atoms, which have no color, no quality--which the Greeks call
[Greek: poiotes], no sense? or that there are innumerable worlds, some
rising and some perishing, in every moment of time? But if a concourse
of atoms can make a world, why not a porch, a temple, a house, a city,
which are works of less labor and difficulty?
Certainly those men talk so idly and inconsiderately concerning this
lower world that they appear to me never to have contemplated the
wonderful magnificence of the heavens; which is the next topic for our
consideration.
Well, then, did Aristotle[163] observe: "If there were men whose
habitations had been always underground, in great and commodious
houses, adorned with statues and pictures, furnished with everything
which they who are reputed happy abound with; and if, without stirring
from thence, they should be informed of a certain divine power and
majesty, and, after some time, the earth should open, and they should
quit their dark abode to come to us, where they should immediately
behold the earth, the seas, the heavens; should consider the vast
extent of the clouds and force of the winds; should see the sun, and
observe his grandeur and beauty, and also his generative power,