About this book

Cicero's Tusculan Disputations

Marcus Tullius Cicero

inasmuch as day is occasioned by the diffusion of his light through the sky; and when night has obscured the earth, they should contemplate the heavens bespangled and adorned with stars, the surprising variety of the moon in her increase and wane, the rising and setting of all the stars, and the inviolable regularity of their courses; when," says he, "they should see these things, they would undoubtedly conclude that there are Gods, and that these are their mighty works." XXXVIII. Thus far Aristotle. Let us imagine, also, as great darkness as was formerly occasioned by the irruption of the fires of Mount AEtna, which are said to have obscured the adjacent countries for two days to such a degree that no man could recognize his fellow; but on the third, when the sun appeared, they seemed to be risen from the dead. Now, if we should be suddenly brought from a state of eternal darkness to see the light, how beautiful would the heavens seem! But our minds have become used to it from the daily practice and habituation of our eyes, nor do we take the trouble to search into the principles of what is always in view; as if the novelty, rather than the importance, of things ought to excite us to investigate their causes. Is he worthy to be called a man who attributes to chance, not to an intelligent cause, the constant motion of the heavens, the regular courses of the stars, the agreeable proportion and connection of all things, conducted with so much reason that our intellect itself is unable to estimate it rightly? When we see machines move artificially, as a sphere, a clock, or the like, do we doubt whether they are the productions of reason? And when we behold the heavens moving with a prodigious celerity, and causing an annual succession of the different seasons of the year, which vivify and preserve all things, can we doubt that this world is directed, I will not say only by reason, but by reason most excellent and divine? For without troubling ourselves with too refined a subtlety of discussion, we may use our eyes to contemplate the beauty of those things which we assert have been arranged by divine providence. XXXIX. First, let us examine the earth, whose situation is in the middle of the universe,[164] solid, round, and conglobular by its natural tendency; clothed with flowers, herbs, trees, and fruits; the whole in multitudes incredible, and with a variety suitable to every taste: let us consider the ever-cool and running springs, the clear waters of the rivers, the verdure of their banks, the hollow depths of caves, the cragginess of rocks, the heights of impending mountains, and the boundless extent of plains, the hidden veins of gold and silver, and the infinite quarries of marble. What and how various are the kinds of animals, tame or wild? The flights and notes of birds? How do the beasts live in the fields and in the forests? What shall I say of men, who, being appointed, as we may say, to cultivate the earth, do not suffer its fertility to be choked with weeds, nor the ferocity of beasts to make it desolate; who, by the houses and cities which they build, adorn the fields, the isles, and the shores? If we could view these objects with the naked eye, as we can by the contemplation of the mind, nobody, at such a sight, would doubt there was a divine intelligence. But how beautiful is the sea! How pleasant to see the extent of it! What a multitude and variety of islands! How delightful are the coasts! What numbers and what diversity of inhabitants does it contain; some within the bosom of it, some floating on the surface, and others by their shells cleaving to the rocks! While the sea itself, approaching to the land, sports so closely to its shores that those two elements appear to be but one. Next above the sea is the air, diversified by day and night: when rarefied, it possesses the higher region; when condensed, it turns into clouds, and with the waters which it gathers enriches the earth by the rain. Its agitation produces the winds. It causes heat and cold according to the different seasons. It sustains birds in their flight; and, being inhaled, nourishes and preserves all animated beings. XL. Add to these, which alone remaineth to be mentioned, the firmament of heaven, a region the farthest from our abodes, which surrounds and contains all things. It is likewise called ether, or sky, the extreme bounds and limits of the universe, in which the stars perform their appointed courses in a most wonderful manner; among which, the sun, whose magnitude far surpasses the earth, makes his revolution round it, and by his rising and setting causes day and night; sometimes coming near towards the earth, and sometimes going from it, he every year makes two contrary reversions[165] from the extreme point of its course. In his retreat the earth seems locked up in sadness; in his return it appears exhilarated with the heavens. The moon, which, as mathematicians demonstrate, is bigger than half the earth, makes her revolutions through the same spaces[166] as the sun; but at one time approaching, and at another receding from, the sun, she diffuses the light which she has borrowed from him over the whole earth, and has herself also many various changes in her appearance. When she is found under the sun, and opposite to it, the brightness of her rays is lost; but when the earth directly interposes between the moon and sun, the moon is totally eclipsed. The other wandering stars have their courses round the earth in the same spaces,[167] and rise and set in the same manner; their motions are sometimes quick, sometimes slow, and often they stand still. There is nothing more wonderful, nothing more beautiful. There is a vast number of fixed stars, distinguished by the names of certain figures, to which we find they have some resemblance. XLI. I will here, says Balbus, looking at me, make use of the verses which, when you were young, you translated from Aratus,[168] and which, because they are in Latin, gave me so much delight that I have many of them still in my memory. As then, we daily see, without any change or variation, --the rest[169] Swiftly pursue the course to which they're bound; And with the heavens the days and nights go round; the contemplation of which, to a mind desirous of observing the constancy of nature, is inexhaustible. The extreme top of either point is call'd The pole.[170] About this the two [Greek: Arktoi] are turned, which never set; Of these, the Greeks one Cynosura call, The other Helice.[171] The brightest stars,[172] indeed, of Helice are discernible all night, Which are by us Septentriones call'd. Cynosura moves about the same pole, with a like number of stars, and ranged in the same order: This[173] the Phoenicians choose to make their guide When on the ocean in the night they ride. Adorned with stars of more refulgent light, The other[174] shines, and first appears at night. Though this is small, sailors its use have found; More inward is its course, and short its round. XLII. The aspect of those stars is the more admirable, because, The Dragon grim between them bends his way, As through the winding banks the currents stray, And up and down in sinuous bending rolls.[175] His whole form is excellent; but the shape of his head and the ardor of his eyes are most remarkable. Various the stars which deck his glittering head; His temples are with double glory spread; From his fierce eyes two fervid lights afar Flash, and his chin shines with one radiant star; Bow'd is his head; and his round neck he bends, And to the tail of Helice[176] extends. The rest of the Dragon's body we see[177] at every hour in the night. Here[178] suddenly the head a little hides Itself, where all its parts, which are in sight, And those unseen in the same place unite. Near to this head Is placed the figure of a man that moves Weary and sad, which the Greeks Engonasis do call, because he's borne[179] About with bended knee. Near him is placed The crown with a refulgent lustre graced. This indeed is at his back; but Anguitenens (the Snake-holder) is near his head:[180] The Greeks him Ophiuchus call, renown'd The name. He strongly grasps the serpent round With both his hands; himself the serpent folds Beneath his breast, and round his middle holds; Yet gravely he, bright shining in the skies, Moves on, and treads on Nepa's[181] breast and eyes. The Septentriones[182] are followed by-- Arctophylax,[183] that's said to be the same Which we Booetes call, who has the name, Because he drives the Greater Bear along Yoked to a wain. Besides, in Booetes, A star of glittering rays about his waist, Arcturus called, a name renown'd, is placed.[184] Beneath which is The Virgin of illustrious form, whose hand Holds a bright spike. XLIII. And truly these signs are so regularly disposed that a divine wisdom evidently appears in them: Beneath the Bear's[185] head have the Twins their seat, Under his chest the Crab, beneath his feet The mighty Lion darts a trembling flame.[186] The Charioteer On the left side of Gemini we see,[187] And at his head behold fierce Helice; On his left shoulder the bright Goat appears. But to proceed-- This is indeed a great and glorious star, On th' other side the Kids, inferior far, Yield but a slender light to mortal eyes. Under his feet The horned bull,[188] with sturdy limbs, is placed: his head is spangled with a number of stars; These by the Greeks are called the Hyades, from raining; for [Greek: hyein] is to rain: therefore they are injudiciously called _Suculae_ by our people, as if they had their name from [Greek: hys], a sow, and not from [Greek: hyo]. Behind the Lesser Bear, Cepheus[189] follows with extended hands, For close behind the Lesser Bear he comes. Before him goes Cassiopea[190] with a faintish light; But near her moves (fair and illustrious sight!) Andromeda,[191] who, with an eager pace, Seems to avoid her parent's mournful face.[192] With glittering mane the Horse[193] now seems to tread, So near he comes, on her refulgent head; With a fair star, that close to him appears, A double form[194] and but one light he wears; By which he seems ambitious in the sky An everlasting knot of stars to tie. Near him the Ram, with wreathed horns, is placed; by whom The Fishes[195] are; of which one seems to haste Somewhat before the other, to the blast Of the north wind exposed. XLIV. Perseus is described as placed at the feet of Andromeda: And him the sharp blasts of the north wind beat. Near his left knee, but dim their light, their seat The small Pleiades[196] maintain. We find, Not far from them, the Lyre[197] but slightly join'd. Next is the winged Bird,[198] that seems to fly Beneath the spacious covering of the sky. Near the head of the Horse[199] lies the right hand of Aquarius, then all Aquarius himself.[200] Then Capricorn, with half the form of beast, Breathes chill and piercing colds from his strong breast, And in a spacious circle takes his round; When him, while in the winter solstice bound, The sun has visited with constant light, He turns his course, and shorter makes the night.[201] Not far from hence is seen The Scorpion[202] rising lofty from below; By him the Archer,[203] with his bended bow; Near him the Bird, with gaudy feathers spread;