The works of Plato · Plato
INTRODUCTION TO THE TIMÆUS.
The following Dialogue, _which comprises the detailed evolution of the physical or cosmological doctrines of Plato_, is supposed to have taken place on the day following that on which Socrates had been discussing with the same party the nature of an ideal or pattern Republic; and there is so far an internal connexion between the two dialogues, that both will be found to contain the same doctrines of the Ideas (εἴδη or ἰδέαι) and the _Summum bonum_ (viz. τὸ ἕν in contradistinction to τὸ γιγνόμενον. Comp. Tim. ch. ix.), though presented under different aspects,—the former treating them in their relation to moral and political perfection, the latter physically and cosmologically, displaying the beauty, perfection, and benevolence of the Divine work in the formation of the Universe and the organization of Man. The dialogue opens with a lively conversation on the political notions set forth by Socrates (or rather elicited by him from the rest) on the preceding day, more especially with reference to their practicability in real life (ch. i.-iii.):—and Critias, to gratify Socrates, introduces the narrative of a long interview between Solon and some Egyptian priests, about the relative antiquity of the Grecian and Egyptian annals, the object of which is to prove, that the state of Athens, in very remote times, corresponded mainly with the picture of a perfect republic, as exhibited by Socrates (ch. iv.-vii.). The subject, however, is deemed worthy of still further investigation by the different parties present; and the first turn is unanimously conceded to Timæus, the Pythagorean, on account of his profound knowledge of physics and astronomy, who accordingly entertains them with a long and learned discourse on the origin of the Universe and the formation of Man,—Critias following him in the succeeding dialogue called by his name, wherein he tries to show that the men here ideally created (τῷ λόγῳ γεγονότας) by Timæus, and brought into civil training by Socrates in the Republic, actually corresponded in character with the citizens of primitive Athens (ch. vii., viii.).
It is necessary to premise, however, before we enter into any analysis of Timæus’s discourse, that Plato, regarded as a _physical theorist_, was not so much the propounder of new and original views, as a critic and eclecticist, reviewing the various systems that had preceded him, opposing what he deemed false or vicious, and adopting what he thought good and solid in each. Now all the earlier philosophers, whether of Ionia or Magna Græcia, had made it their first business to start different theories, more or less visionary, on the origin of the Universe. Thales held the primary element to be _water_, Anaximenes and Diogenes _air_, Anaximander a vast _chaos_, and Heraclitus _fire_,—to whom at length succeeded Anaxagoras, the first to recognise a _Supreme Intelligence_ (νοῦς) as the principle of life and arranger of the primitive chaotic atoms (and from whom Plato undoubtedly took some of his leading notions). Widely differing from the above, Xenophanes maintained _unity_ (τὸ ἕν)—_the Universe, to be God_,—a notion, which elicited from Parmenides the atheistic dogma, that, as existence is conceivable, and non-existence is not so, _creation is impossible_, as it pre-supposes non-existence; and in this view he was followed by Empedocles, who regarded all things as alike uncreated and indestructible.
When such notions were current, it can scarcely be matter for surprise that Heraclitus should have put forth the doctrine (equally atheistical) of _a perpetual flux_, and been followed by the sophist Protagoras, who stated that _all knowledge is sensation_, and that _man is the measure of all existing things whatever_. And lastly, it was the notion of Pythagoras (with whose views Plato was beyond all doubt deeply imbued), that _numbers_ and _music_ are the principles of the entire universe, and that the world is regulated by _numerical harmony_.[257] With all these conflicting views before him, and having at the same time a strong internal conviction of one grand, comprehensive, and intelligent Unity,—in other words, God,—Plato at once boldly impugned the doctrine of the Eleatics, that the world around was an eternal, immutable essence;—maintaining, on the other hand, that, as it was sensible, it must have been produced, and was in fact the necessary result of an effective cause,—_the work of a rational, intelligent, and benevolent Architect_.
Timæus, therefore, in this dialogue,—after stating _in limine_ that there are two classes of things, the one eternal, _constant_ (ταὐτόν), and not subject to change; the other _mutable_ (θάτερον), generated, and liable to decay: the former of which is comprehended by the intellect, the latter by the senses,—broadly sets forth the grand doctrine of Theism, that whatever is generated must proceed from some cause, namely God, who formed the sensible universe, the most perfect of things generated, according to an eternal pattern existing in the Divine Mind (ch. ix.). The whole, indeed, was the work of the Creator’s goodness; and the universe itself likewise was very good,—as it were, an ensouled, rational, living being,—perfect in unity, and composed of four elements indissolubly united,—earth and fire, air and water,—its shape being that of a perfect sphere moving in a circular orbit, and its soul emanating from its abode in the centre to all the other parts, including even the external surface,—in fine, it came forth from its Maker deficient in no single respect, “a blessed God” (ch. x.-xii.).
He next proceeds to unfold the nature and structure of the Universe in its several parts. And first, he assumes it to consist of two parts,—one eternal and fixed, because related to the world of intellect; the other corporeal, mutable, and capable of division,—both of which are so united on the principles of number and music, as to produce a happy and well-settled harmony both in structure and motion. This universal soul, moreover, pervades even the distant orbits of the fixed stars and planets, all of which depend for their life and circular motion on the eternal and constant principles of number and harmony,—the fixed stars moving _westward_ on the eternal principle of sameness, the planets _eastward_ on that of mutability and difference (ch. xii.). But in connexion with this soul, the universe possesses also a material body, whereby it becomes cognizant of material things,—the subjects of opinion and persuasion, as well as of the abstract truths that form the groundwork of reasoning and science (ch. xiii.).[258] Next came the creation of _time_, which was effected by the formation of the sun, moon, and five planets, whose motion, particularly that of the first, creates, determines, and watches over, the several divisions of days and nights, months and perfect years (ch. xiv.). The form and motions of the world thus once arranged, the Creator proceeds to people it with living beings,—first, the heavenly gods (_i. e._ the stars and other celestial bodies); secondly, airy and winged creatures; thirdly, those living in the water; and lastly, those moving on the earth. The stars, indeed, are termed a race of heavenly gods, yet generated and visible, endowed with fiery, spherical bodies, and called immortal, as not being subject to dissolution or decay (ch. xv.); but whether the earth itself is, like the other bodies, to be considered an ensouled, generated god, and whether at rest or in motion, is not exactly certain.
Next follows a narrative, almost purely mythical, of the formation of the mortal races of animals (ch. xvi.-xviii.), which the Supreme himself does not deign personally to create, but commits that task to the lower gods, reserving only the office of imparting to these new creatures whatever was to be immortal in their constitution. A like number of these perishable animals is assigned to each of the stars; and the first birth being the same in all,—that of the human male; nor was it till after a fixed period, that the female and all other animals,—beasts, fishes, and birds,—issued from this mortal form. Of this being, Man, consisting, like the universe, of body and soul mysteriously conjoined, Timæus next gives a detailed description, beginning with the head, which contains the leading organs of sense (ch. xix., xx.); and he then diverges into a long investigation of the elements of earthly bodies, particularly as respects their geometric forms, as well also, as of their various affections, viz. motion or rest, heat or cold, heaviness or lightness, smell, colour, &c., the discussion of which must necessarily precede any satisfactory account of the intellectual and physical man (ch. xxi.-xlii.). Man, he proceeds to observe, is composed of a corruptible body enshrining an immortal soul; but besides this, he possesses an inferior sort of soul, whereby he becomes cognizant of the various passions and emotions, viz., pleasure and pain, hope, fear, anger, desire, &c.; and all the parts of his body are composed with wonderful skill, and yet kept in constant subjection to the dominance of reason and intellect:—and he now parenthetically intimates the existence of two sets of causes,—the _divine_ and _necessary_,—as constantly operating together; of the former of which we can gain only a very imperfect knowledge (though for our happiness’ sake we should ever aspire thereto), while the latter we should investigate for the sake of getting at the former (ch. xliii.).
Next succeed separate and particular (though somewhat fanciful) descriptions of the heart, lungs, stomach, liver, spleen, intestines, spinal marrow and brain, skull and bones, ligaments and tendons, muscles and flesh, the nerves round the head, teeth, tongue, lips, hair, skin, pores, &c. &c., all of which are kept in healthy action by the united operation of the alimentary and respiratory systems (ch. xliv.-lxii.),—the object of the whole of these speculations being to show the existence of design and the adaptation of means to ends throughout the work of creation. Now the regular, unimpeded, action of all these organs and component parts constitutes bodily health; whereas the disorders and decay of the component elements of life are either productive of disease or else slowly bring on old age and bodily decay (ch. lxii.). Then follow some curious details respecting the diseases of the body, which are ascribed to many various causes, mostly fanciful,—some few only real, formed on a knowledge of the human frame (ch. lxiii.-lxviii.). Far more important, however, and far more severe, are the diseases of the soul; and these are assigned to two causes,—first, bodily infirmity, and secondly, improper training, it being a vulgar error to suppose that any one is willingly evil. The great, and indeed only disease of the soul, is madness, which assumes two forms,—madness (μανία), and folly or idiocy (ἀμαθία), both caused by the unhealthy predominance of the animal passions over the reason and conscience. Great care must therefore be observed constantly to maintain the _mens sana in corpore sano_, to attend diligently to both, without neglecting either,—to form the body by constant and suitable exercise as well as strict temperance, and to cultivate the soul by engaging the intellect in the contemplation of divine things and eternal truth, including those heavenly revolutions with which the human soul also has a close relation and harmony (ch. lxix.-lxxi.).
The concluding chapters of the dialogue comprise some observations on the origin of the lower animals, from which it appears that Plato entertained the Pythagorean doctrine of the transmigration of souls; for he thinks it probable that those who have lived unrighteously and effeminately will, at their second birth, be changed into women,—those of both sexes who have lived innocently but frivolously, foolishly believing that heavenly things could be seen by mortal eye, being changed into birds of the air; those, thirdly, who have been totally estranged from philosophy, into beasts of the earth; and those, fourthly, who are to the last degree foolish and ignorant, becoming mere fishes, creatures of the water, to whom the gods that formed them have denied even the privilege of breathing a thin and pure atmosphere (ch. lxxii., lxxiii., compared with ch. xvii., where he touches, though more briefly, on the same philosophic dogma). Lastly, the whole dialogue concludes with a brief, but elegant summary of the great doctrine, of which the philosopher has exhibited throughout it so many satisfactory proofs,—that “this world, which comprises and is filled with all kinds of living beings, both mortal and immortal, thus becomes a visible animal embracing visible natures,—an image of the great Intelligence,—a sensible god,—the greatest and best, the fairest and most perfect,—this the one and only begotten Universe.”
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.