are contained here, but also much of what is A required by the many for investigation; and especially for those who are lacking in philosophy and medical science.
EPITOME
The entire treatise is from the beginning joined and bound together, and as it were articulated, clarifying the parts of the body one by one, and investigating their natural composition. It adapts the elements of the cosmos to the body, and calculates which element of the cosmos is equivalent to the element of the body; and what are the simple and primary elements, and what are the similar and dissimilar parts; and how many faculties operate within the living creature; and how many senses; and what is the tripartite soul, and of what things the intellect is sovereign. And whence speech is generated; and what is spoken speech, and what is internal; and what is appetite, and whence it arises, and how foods are processed, and how they B are digested, and how they are distributed; and how many digestions there are, and how many kinds of waste; and how blood is generated, and how and whence the whole body is irrigated; and how sleep occurs; and why and whence laughter and joy, grief and tears, are constituted. When, however, the thesis is thus completed and as it were woven together, as if making a repetition, the discourse examines the parts again one by one, explaining each one from head to foot, defining its nature, its operation, its names, and its terms; not tautological, as one might think, but teaching more broadly what was said in the epitome and concisely, and clarifying it for those who hear; for these reasons, a table is also provided for easy diagnosis.
TABLE OF THE WHOLE VOLUME
1. Concerning the head and its bones and sutures; and why it is called the head, and why it is round and not long; and how many are its names. Concerning the brain, and why it is cold and white and blood-less; and concerning the nerves and muscles. 2. Concerning the eyes; and of how many tunics and humors they consist; and why some became white and others black; and concerning the visual spirit, and concerning its operation and power. 3. Concerning the nose and the smells that occur through it; and whence smell is constituted, and where it ends. 4. Concerning the large and small canthi. 5. Concerning the cheeks. 6. Concerning the upper jaw and the lower. 7. Concerning the ears and their substance, and the sense of hearing. 8. Concerning the chin and the beard. 9. Concerning the face, and why it is so called; and what is signified by it.
10. Regarding the mouth and the parts within it, namely the tongue, the teeth, and all other things. 11. Regarding the voice, and how it is produced. 12. Regarding respiration, and from what parts it is sent forth. 13. Regarding the thorax. 14. Regarding the neck, the vertebrae, the spine, and the spinal marrow. 15. Regarding the ribs, and how many a man has. 16. Regarding the pleura and the diaphragm. 17. Regarding the lungs and the heart, and their actions; and how the heart is situated, and what its shape is. 18. Regarding the stomach and the intestines, with their names and functions; and how hunger and digestion occur. 19. Regarding the liver, its substance, function, power, and name. 20. Regarding the spleen and its shape. 21. Regarding the upper abdominal region and the lower. 22. Regarding the esophagus and the trachea. 23. Regarding the hypogastric and epigastric regions. 24. Regarding the location of the groin and the [pubic] bone. 25. Regarding the sacrum. 26. Regarding the anus. 27. Regarding the testicles, the glans, and the vessels within them. 28. Regarding the hands, the bones in them, and their names and functions. 29. Regarding the fingers, and of how many knuckles they are composed. 30. Regarding the thighs. 31. Regarding the leg. 32. Regarding the shank and the fibula. 33. Regarding the whole foot, and its bones and toes. 34. Regarding the skin of the whole body. 35. Regarding the hairs, their differences, and what their use is. A B C
WORK IN BRIEF REGARDING THE NATURE OF MAN
COMPILED AND COMPOSED BY MELETIUS THE MONK from the renowned [authors] of the Church, and from outside scholars and philosophers.SYNOPTIC ELUCUBRATION ON THE NATURE OF MAN
BY MELETIUS THE MONK COMPILED AND DIGESTED from the most famous ecclesiastical and secular writers and philosophers.Most of the ancients, D professing wisdom and medicine at the same time, have written about the composition of man, and from how many natures he consists, and what the substance of the soul is, and how it is contained within the body, and about the compound person.
A Many of the ancient wise men and physicians have defined and written about the union, and the actions and powers and senses arising from both, and about the formation of our body, and from how many elements it consists, and into how many parts it is divided, having accurately examined everything out of wisdom, understanding, and the science of anatomy. And what they labored upon regarding the body is known and agreed upon by all who are studious and laborious, and it has been preserved to exist in the same way. But whatever the Greeks philosophized concerning the soul was proven vain; for they could establish nothing true regarding its substance, nor show of what nature it is; nay, some of them even babbled that it pre-existed the body, and others, conversely, that the body pre-existed it. Whence, too, all disagreeing with one another, they were made vain in their own B reasonings. That the soul is woven together with the body, and that it is more precious and more authoritative than it, and that the body is moved by it as an instrument, and that it is the power of God and nature that enlivens and holds it together, and that it is an incorporeal, rational, intellectual, and immortal substance, is known to all who think rightly. But what it is in substance, and how the incorporeal is in a body, this is for God alone to know, the creator of men. Whence we, too, leaving aside the discourse on the soul separately, having selected as far as is possible for us what was labored upon by the ancients regarding the nature of man in general, and which lies scattered in anatomical and etymological books, C we have brought it into one, that we might have it ready to learn and to admire the master-craftsman God; and with the prophet we may cry out, "Thy knowledge is become wonderful from me" (Ps. CXXXVIII, 6). Designing to do this, let us call upon Christ our God, that He may deign to instruct and guide us in this path wherein we walk; for He Himself is both the creator of nature, and the dispenser of wisdom, and the corrector of the unwise; for we and our words are in His hands. And first let us say what man is, and why he is so named; for in no case did the ancients assign names and definitions to all things without purpose, least of all in the case of their own D body; for their body is similar in all men, in that man does not differ from man by any difference of nature, but all men are naturally constituted in the same way
A according to the account of their structure; so that all are to be referred to one species and one definition.
For man is, they say, a rational, mortal animal, capable of mind and knowledge; an animal, because man is a soul-endowed sentient substance; for this is the definition of an animal. Rational, so that he may be separated from the irrational; and mortal, so that he may be distinguished from the immortal rational beings, that is, the angels. And capable of mind and knowledge, because it is through learning that arts and sciences come to us. We possess by nature the power to grasp them, but we obtain the actions B from the things we have learned. The name "man" is given, according to some, because he possesses articulate speech, whereas all other animals utter sound inarticulately and insignificantly. Others say it is from the capacity to look upon and think about C what one has seen—that is, from the capacity to look with the mind and consider what is necessary—whereas other animals neither provide for nor think upon such things. Others say it is from [Greek: ἀνώθειν], that is, raising the eye upward; or from the verb meaning "I look," or "I act," whence [Greek: ἄδρωπος] and "man"; or because he is inclined upward, being [Greek: ἀνάτροπος], as it were. "For the quadrupeds," says the great Basil, "look toward the earth and are inclined toward the belly, but for man, the gaze is upward D toward heaven, so that he may not be occupied with the belly, nor with the passions beneath the belly." It is also evident that he shares in things devoid of soul, and has partaken of the knowledge of rational beings. For immediately in the first sowing, from the casting of the seed into the womb, what falls into it is similar to soulless bodies, having its composition from the four elements; except that, as though being detached from living things, it shows its living activity, as natural faculties appear within it. For having remained for a short time in the womb, having fallen there, and having received some natural moisture and heat, it is assimilated to zoophytes, which are of an ambiguous genus between plants and animals, in regard to the nutritive and augmentative faculty.
For this human offspring is nourished and grows, and it takes on the form of parts and limbs. Then, again, gradually taking on growth there, it is made into an animal and vital faculties operate within it, D and it becomes similar to sea creatures. For this reason it is also called an embryo, because it flows easily to receive nourishment and growth, coined from the Greek word meaning "to flow" or "to sprout." Or perhaps because it contains food within, which in Greek is called [Greek: βορά]. The womb is so named because it is the mother of that which is born.
term meaning to be heaped up, for it is something piled up and filled with roughness. For nature has made it rough, and containing cavities along with certain veins and arteries, so that the seed does not slip out due to smoothness, leaving the mother barren. Or because the passage of nourishment for the embryo comes from it, from the Greek word meaning "to flow," or from the privative *nē* and the particle *dys*; because it is also deprived of the power of childbearing, and suffers difficulties in birth. *Delphys* is so named because it is a producer of brethren, and makes those who are born brethren; for a brother is one from the same *delphys*, that is, womb; hence *homodelphys* (of the same womb) and *autadelphos* (full brother). *Hystera* (the womb) is so named because it shows its activities after all the other parts—the attractive, the retentive, the alterative, and the excretory—naturally in the process of child-forming. Or because it lies behind the belly. For the embryo is nourished in the womb, and breathes not from the mouth, but from the navel, from the sanguineous uterine excretions; whence also *omphalos* (navel) is so called from *empnein*, which means to breathe. It is the middle of the body; and in the genesis of this animal, it is said that a certain thin membrane is first formed, which they call the *chorion*, as C enclosing the embryo, or because it is a "space" (chōrion) for it, or as a dispenser (chōrēgon) of the things that nourish it. Then the heart, having been placed first by nature, receives from nature the foundation that corresponds to the limbs. Therefore, and commensurately with its own principles, it is perfected according to composition in the workshop of nature, with the body being woven around it.
It is fashioned in the womb such that the genus of four-footed animals lies stretched out; but man is envisioned as holding the nose between the knees, with the eyes resting on the knees, and the ears on the outside. And when it has fulfilled the appointed time of pregnancy, the belly, stirred up toward a swelling, pushes the embryo D out; and with the head released first, the heavier and bulkier parts of the body follow according to the movement (these parts are the shoulders and the chest). And this is the straight path for those who are born according to the order of nature. For we shall omit those births that are contrary to nature or involve birth difficulties. Therefore, after the removal of the
navel, both nourishment and respiration proceed to the mouth. That the infant's nourishment after this is milk, which best sustains him, is a matter known to all. And milk is nothing other than blood turned into whiteness in the mother’s breasts, which the breasts receive from the womb through the office of the veins that are called *amphisbenai*—for the breasts, which are called in Greek *mastoi* (specifically those of women, as *masetoi*), are so called because they are, so to speak, a "dwelling," since they provide food in abundance; or because they provide the *mastaxa*—that is, the food—to those being born, from which comes the term *masema* (chewing); or because the infants first attach themselves to them and fasten upon them; or because they are drawn from by those suckling; or taking it from the word *maio*, which means "I seek," because it is sought by the children—whence also the mother is called the one sought by the children; or because it seeks out what is needed for the food of the conceived; or because by the force of nature those that are generated seek them out. That the word *maio* signifies "to seek" is found in Homer, who says: "seeking the lair," and from this comes the *maia* (midwife) who seeks the infants of A women in the womb.
An infant (*brephos*), moreover, who is so called in Greek from the need for nourishment (*phorbē*), is named and designated from the fact that he is in need of nourishment. Therefore, as regards the body and the temperament that arises from the four elements, man participates with soulless things; with plants, however, he participates both in these and in the vegetative and seminal faculty; and with irrational B animals he participates in these, and additionally, according to the impulse-driven movement—that is, according to appetite and spirit, and the sensible and respiratory faculty—for all these things are common to humans and irrational animals, although not all to all. But through the rational element, when he has reached a suitable time of life, by observing, understanding, and judging each thing, he is made to be on a par with incorporeal and intellectual natures. The soul, however, is woven together with the body from the beginning with the seed, as the most wise Gregory wrote: "For it is not possible," he says, "that we should consider the soul itself to be adapted to another's construction, just as a seal impressed upon wax cannot in any way be adapted to another's image." C For just as the seed proceeds from something very small toward that which is perfect, so also the activity of the soul, rightly implanted in the subject body, feels at the same time the accession and increase. Indeed, its vegetative and augmentative faculties alone, at the first constitution, like a certain root hidden in the earth, are the augmentative ones. D
A For the smallness of the recipient cannot contain anything greater. When, afterwards, the plant has come forth into the light, and has shown its growth to the sun, the grace of the sensitive faculty blossoms. And when it has reached man’s estate, and has grown to a proportionate size, like a certain fruit, the rational faculty begins its work, not appearing all at once, but increasing through care along with the perfection of the instrument, B always bearing as much fruit as the capacity of the underlying subject can hold. For we know that the power of nature was sown in it at the first occasion of its constitution. It expands—and is revealed through a certain natural sequence—and moves up toward perfection, not receiving anything from outside as an occasion for perfection, but leading itself toward perfection of its own accord through a sequence; so that neither to say that the soul is before the body, nor the body without the soul, according to the quibbling of the Greeks, is true, but that one must believe that the principle of both is one and the same.
Since, however, man is from a body, and every body is composed of four elements, it is necessary that he fall prey to those same conditions to which the elements are subject. The elements through which the entire world exists are earth, water, fire, and air. C For elements—*stoicheia*—are so called because they are ranged in a row with one another and fit into the harmoniously balanced quality of all things. For not only does each of the elements possess a peculiar and allotted quality, by which it is distinguished from the others and is known for what it is, but it also has qualities yoked together; and there is nothing among the elements that is solitary, nor simple and pure. Rather, the earth is dry and cold; the water is moist and cold; the air is hot and moist; and the fire is hot and dry; for in this way, through the joined quality, the power of each to be mingled with the other proceeds. For example, the earth, being dry and cold, is united to water by the affinity of coldness. And it is united to the air through the water; and the air, being hot and moist, D is united to the fire by its heat, and to the water by its moisture; and the fire, existing by nature as hot and dry, is joined to the air by what is hot, and returns by what is dry to the communion of the earth. And the water, being cold and moist, touches the earth by its coldness and the air by its moisture; and thus a cycle and a harmonious chorus is formed, and these, as the primary elements, are resolved into wholes and forms.
A And from these are generated the humors related to our body: I speak of blood and phlegm, yellow bile and black. For blood, being warm and moist, corresponds to the air; yellow bile, being warm and dry, to fire; black bile, being cold and dry, to the earth; and phlegm, as cold and moist, is proportioned to water. But since these are subject to division, mutation, and perpetual flux, it is necessary that bodies too should be subject to the affections of these. To division, whereby the humors are separated from one another, and as they are divided into matter and form; to mutation, which concerns quality and quantity, in heating and cooling, in excess and deficiency—and perhaps in diseases, and in the alterations of age. B For as the year is divided into four seasons—spring, summer, autumn, and winter—so are there four ages for men. The first is that of the young; the second that of those in their prime; the third that of those of middle age; and the fourth that of the elderly—although physicians add others: that of infants, which is the same as the youthful, and those who are consumed by extreme old age. For in the young, blood abounds; in those who are in their prime, yellow bile; in those past their prime, black bile; and in the old, phlegm prevails. And the young are indeed warm and moist, corresponding in temperament to the air; those in their prime are warm and dry, akin to the summer; those who are past their prime, who are also the middle-aged, are dry and cold, resembling autumn; C and the elderly are cold and moist, similar to winter. For in the young and those in their prime, the implanted heat is very great; it is moderate in those of middle age; and in the elderly it is very slight: and in some it exceeds measure; in others it increases; in others it remains for a while in a given state; and in others it is diminished in some part, though in some more, and in others less. Moreover, it suffers from eflux, because the animal feels exhaustion everywhere through open and obscure passages. And through the open passages, humid and dry excrement, and mucous humors, and sputa, and spirit are secreted; but through the obscure and natural ducts, from the fistulae proceeding from the liver, there is an emission of breath throughout the whole body. D Now the smoky exhalations, which proceed through the head and the arteries and the passages of the body, are exhausted through sweats. And since the things that are exhausted are dry, humid, and endowed with spirit, the animal...
has need of dry and humid food, and of spirit, so that it might not be destroyed and succumb from a lack of incoming nourishment, but rather that equal amounts might enter in to replace those that have been exhausted, through appropriate food. A For the heat innate in us always seeks the matter that inflames and nourishes it; and even if it should manage to obtain it from somewhere, its activity does not even then come to a halt, but, as in a furnace, after it has effected the melting down and excretion of what has entered, it again seeks other food. And if the animal is in a natural state, it never ceases from such a drive; but if it were ever to cease while being exhausted, it would then lose its very being. We call this kind of drive "appetite." For appetite is nothing other than the seeking of food and drink; and desiring is a natural function of the stomach, one that occurs B along with the awareness of the soul.
Our food and drink are provided through the elements of which we are composed; for the elements are resolved into fruits, the fruits into nutriments, and the nutriments into elemental juices, that is to say, into blood and phlegm, and yellow and black bile. And these are resolved into flesh, skin, bones, nerves, veins, arteries, marrow, fat, spirits, membranes, ligaments, muscles, cartilages, nails, and hair; and these, in turn, are resolved into locations, and parts, and members, and portions, from which our form is completed along with our body.
C For we receive some of the elements directly, and at the same time through certain intermediaries; as water is used sometimes by itself, and sometimes through the medium of wine, and oil, and all the other things that are called humid fruits. In the same way, we also partake of fire; sometimes directly, being warmed by it, and sometimes through the cooking of the things we eat and drink. In the same manner, we also use air, directly when we breathe it in and have it poured around us, and when, during eating and drinking, we draw it in through breathing, and through the medium of other things that we consume. We do not eat earth directly at all, but we feed through the medium of animals, and seeds, and plants. D For the nature of plants and seeds was brought into being by the Creator not for its own sake, but for the food and constitution of human beings and the other animals, so that the plants and seeds are found to be for the sake of the animals, and the animals themselves in turn for the sake of man, so that, as the nutriments are provided in a cycle, they may remain complete and
A the nature of the things offered—the fruits—may remain, even if these diverse products move silently day by day toward each of the elements.
For the harmonious meeting of the heterogeneous elements in the construction of our body, and of all other diverse kinds as well, is a certain combination formed from many dissimilar things. When, at the appropriate time, the harmony that binds together the convergence of the elements is released, the composite structure is again dissolved, destroyed into the parts from which it had been put together, with each of the components departing to its proper place. This is, as it were, a circular figure; it is the sequence of nature, the function of the body, the order of the elements, and the measure B of time through weekly rotation, which begins from itself and ends at itself. Just as one may see in agriculture, when rain descending from the clouds, or moisture flowing through conduits, makes the underlying ground wet. Let there be a garden proposed for the sake of illustration, in which are nurtured within itself myriads of differences of trees and all manner of varieties of things springing from the earth; whose shape, and quality, and the peculiarity of their color are seen in great differentiation in each one. Since, therefore, in one place so many things are nourished by a single moisture—for the power that moistens each of these is one in nature—the property of those things being nourished, because of the moisture, changes into different C qualities; for the same thing becomes bitter in wormwood, is transformed into a deadly juice in hemlock, and becomes different in other things—in crocus, in balsam, in poppy; for by one it is heated, by another it is cooled, and another has a middle quality; and in laurel and in rush and in such things it is sweet-scented; in the fig tree and the vine it has become sweetened, and the cluster of this yields wine; and so too the juice of the apple, and the redness of the rose, and the splendor of the lily, and the bluish tint of the violet, and all things whatsoever that are to be seen upon the earth, spring forth from one and the same moisture, but are differentiated into so many differences according to shape, and form, and qualities, that it is not even easy to count them. D A similar wonder is performed in our ensouled field by nature, or rather by the Lord of nature; for bones and cartilages, veins and arteries, and all the things mentioned a little before were made, from which again eyes and tunics, nostrils and ears, tongue and teeth [...]
gums and the uvula, the collarbone and the chest, the heart and the lung, the intestines and the stomach, and all the internal organs along with the spleen and the liver, and all other things within, as well as the hands and feet, were produced. And all these organic members, separated from one another by various differences, are nourished by one single change of food into juice, A suitably to their own nature; for the food, to whichever part it approaches, is altered according to that part, and becomes proper and connatural to the affinity of that part. For if it should reach the eye, it is commingled with the visual part; and it is distributed according to the differences of the tunics about the eye. But if it flows to the parts related to hearing, it is mixed with the acoustic nature; and becoming at the lip, it becomes a lip; and it hardens in a bone; and it is softened in the marrow; and it is tightened with a nerve; and it is extended along with the surface; and it passes into the nails; and B for the generation of hair, it is refined by appropriate vapors. If indeed it be carried through winding pores, it produces hair that is curlier and more convoluted; but if the passage of the hair-forming vapors be straight, it brings forth stretched and straight hair. These hairs also, because of the soot that is sent up to the head from the stomach, if it be white and more phlegmatic, turn white quickly; but if it be more bilious and dry, they do so more slowly. It is also peculiar to man alone to turn gray, C just as it is to laugh; for this is proper to every man and to man alone, but not at all times; rather, it happens only in old age. And the name *polia* (grayness) is given either because it is white — for "white" is *polion* — or as if "ancient," for it comes in old age.
Since, therefore, the juice that nourishes the whole body is good and well-flavored, and since the vital spirit is well-tempered and both persists and remains, bodies are shown to be of good color and agile. To this, changes of seasons that occur properly, the conditions of winds, the temperateness of the air, and the suitability of foods also contribute. D For when something in these is failing, or happens contrary to nature, the cold, penetrating into the depths, cools the innate heat, and causes a sort of wasting condition, by which the flower of the body—that is, its ruddy color—is destroyed. Since therefore our body is cooled in the
A changes of the seasons, and also warmed, God did not clothe us by nature with thick skin, as He did for oxen or other thick-skinned animals, nor with long and dense hair, as for sheep or goats, nor with scales, as for serpents and fish, nor with shells, as for turtles, snails, and all the shellfish, nor with feathers, as for birds. We had necessary need of clothing to fulfill for us what nature granted to irrational creatures. And not only that, but also of a dwelling place, on account of the rains, winters, and heats. For this reason, as if in want of protection from rains, winter, and heat, we have had need of clothing and a dwelling. And because the food that enters is constantly being dispersed, we have had need of other food and drink; and because of the dissolutions of the body, we have been set in need of medical treatment for the dyscrasia of the qualities. B For it is not the case that the things that exist were made only for the food of man, but much more for his healing. For there is nothing on earth that does not cooperate with the medical art and assist man, whether one speaks of wild beasts, or reptiles, or birds, or plants, or herbs, or stones, or whatever else of things that exist, both on land and in the sea, and in the whole of creation.
Therefore, man is always in need of food and drink on account of his evacuations and dispersions, and for the preservation of the animal; for we consume solid food in the primary and preceding order, and liquid in the second, so that the liquid may become a vehicle for the dry, and lead it toward assimilation, as Hippocrates says, "Moisture is the vehicle of food." Again, we have need of clothing, because we have by nature no strong covering; and of a house, on account of the bad temperament of the air surrounding us and the wild beasts; and of medical care, on account of the changes of the qualities and the sensation which has been placed within our body. For if sensation were not present in us, we would not feel pain; nor would we have had need of healing, not being in pain. And we would have perished, not healing the affliction in ignorance of the evil.
C D Because of the arts and sciences, and because of their use, we have need of mutual intercourse; and because of our need of one another, it was necessary for many to come together into one place, so that we might satisfy in common all the necessities of life: which gathering and cohabitation it pleased to call a city, so that we might enjoy each other’s benefits from nearby, and not from afar. For by nature man has become a sociable and political animal.
B Man, however, has received two excellent prerogatives beyond all other beings, whether rational or irrational. For he alone obtains forgiveness by repenting, and his body, though mortal, is rendered immortal; and this he attains, the bodily through the soul, and the psychical through the body. For man alone among rational beings has possessed a unique and excellent property: that he is deemed worthy of forgiveness in repenting. Since irrational passions do not have their origins from (a sense of) sympathy and kinship with the irrational nature—for the kinship of passions is borne equally by us and by irrational animals—man bears a double orientation toward contraries: on the one hand, transformed by the godlike quality of the mind toward divine beauty; on the other, carried toward bestiality by the impulses that arise according to passion. C Often, indeed, he becomes entirely bestial through his inclination toward and disposition for irrational beings, obscuring the better with the worse. For this reason, then, God has granted him the excellent gift of being released from the causes of the sins he has committed through repentance. For this was granted to man alone, to everyone, and always, during the time of worldly life; but after death, no longer. And just as laughter is a property of his species, because it belongs to him alone, and to everyone, and always—even if he does not always use it—so it is a property and excellence of his alone, and of no other animal, to rise again after death and to go toward immortality. He attains this because of the immortality of the soul, just as he attains death because of the weakness and passibility of the body.
D His own, too, are the disciplines of the arts and sciences, and all the activities and inventions according to every art; and three powers are constantly at work regarding this rational animal: psychical, physical, and vital—that is, governing, sensory, and motive. The psychical and governing are imagination, reasoning, memory, opinion, and intellection, as well as the sensory (organs) in their parts and the movements according to choice; the vital are, for example, respiration and the pulse; the physical are, for example, reproductive, nutritive, and growth-related, along with their subordinates.
A And in addition to these, there is another power called the secretory, which, acting in every part, sustains and nourishes them, and expels what is superfluous.
It is necessary to know that these faculties originate from three parts: from the head, by which we reason, perceive, and remember, and use change of place; from the heart, by which we are irascible and happen to be warm—furthermore, we have the pulse in the heart itself, and from it, it is supplied to all the arteries; and from the liver, by which we are nourished and grow, and our whole body is irrigated. Each of these faculties, however, operates through the mind; for every operation is the consummation of the intellect. But operations are the powers of the mind, and the mind is the commanding part of the soul; for although the nature of the mind is invisible in itself, and no place contains it within the body B because it is immaterial and incorporeal, yet every voluntary movement is its work. But imagination precedes every voluntary movement; and imagination is an impression of the commanding faculty, through which a dim illumination of things unseen and unconsidered is generated from a certain conception. Thought is the proper movement of the mind, which acts through itself and judges things; but judgments, dispositions, the turning away from evils, impulses, the observation of things, virtues, and sciences, as well as the principles of the arts and the method of taking counsel, are assigned to the office of the intellectual faculty. But those things which have already been observed by us, or noticed, or understood, or agreed upon, or which hearing has perceived, are kept by the care of memory. Opinion, however, being the perfection C of these, completes through the disposition of consideration those things which it had apprehended through the office of the senses, imagination, and thought, and which it had performed in action, or perceived by hearing, or retained in memory by repeating them.
Consideration, indeed, is the mind that chooses the wise life with right reason. The mind is an intellectual nature, which understands and brings to perfection all things that are in the nature of things, as well as the arts themselves and the sciences; for the mind is called by the Greeks *nous*, because it moves, D since that which is called *nous* is that which is perpetually moving and passing through every thing that dwells within us; for what is more impulsive than the mind? As Homer says: *As when the mind of a man darts forth*—and elsewhere: *As a wing, or a thought*. And from the mind, the word is born; and it is formed by voices, and is embodied, as it were, by letters; for the word
The nature of the mind
Yet it is brought forth not by sight, not by passion, not by labor, nor by division; for it is incorporeal, invisible, and intangible, perceived by hearing alone. No one has seen a word with the eyes; no one holds it with the hand. But it is an incorporeal and intangible nature, seized by one sense alone, that of hearing; and the hearing, when it stretches out its hands, does not detain it; but the word itself, having entered, is detained, and is not divided, and is not separated from the mind that brought it forth, but it even fills all who hear it, and does not depart from the mind that brought it forth. And from the word, the thought and the counsel of the soul are grasped. Therefore, the great Basil says: B “The God who created us has given us the use of the word, so that there might be a capacity to reveal the counsels of our hearts to one another; and because of the social nature of our being, each of us may share with his neighbor, just as if bringing forth thoughts from certain treasuries, the secret places of the heart. For if we lived by the soul alone, we would immediately come to an understanding with one another through thoughts. But since the soul covers itself under a veil, the flesh, and fashions its concepts, it has need of words and names to publish abroad C those things that lie in the depths.” But first, the type from the letters is produced in the intellect; then, after it has been imagined, selecting the proper and fitting significations of each from the underlying things, it declares them. Then, by the service of the vocal organs, distributing what has been conceived, it thus clarifies in the hidden [depths] the concept through the formation of the air, according to the articulate movement of the voice. And this is considered peculiar to the nature of the rational animal: to reveal the hidden things of the soul through the pronouncement of the word. For the intellectual substance of the angels come together with one another through thoughts themselves; but some have defined human speech as the angel of the concept. It is said, moreover, that the one is internal, the other pronuntiative. D And internal speech is that which speaks in the heart; that which comes to utterance and use is the flow that is sent forth from thought with a voice. But not every voice is called speech, but everything that produces a noise to the hearing is called a voice. Since, indeed, there are twofold actions of our soul—those that pertain to cognition, as we recently asserted, such as mind, opinion, imagination, sensation, and thought; and those that are vital and appetitive, such as:
will, irascibility, and desire, of which we shall speak subsequently. B
Some have asserted that all the energies of the mind reside in the cavities of the brain located within the head—that is, in the front, rear, and middle cavities—because in illnesses affecting these parts in a certain disruptive way, these energies are lost. For sometimes the imaginative, the discursive, the memorial, and the faculty of reason itself are all destroyed together in those who are delirious or suffering from mental derangement; and sometimes they are destroyed one by one. However, in men who are in regular, natural condition, the mind acts by deed or word in accordance with the proper function of prudence. But in those whose parts are in an infirm state, since they are unable to possess its natural faculty or motion, they become immune to all its operational expression. It is as one may observe in those who are trained in music; for they are unable to show the power of their art through instruments that have been dilapidated or broken by long disuse.
We know that this mind not only presides over the psychic, vital, and physical faculties, C but we also know that it operates through the five senses. For by distributing itself proportionately to the sensory faculties, through each one it acquires knowledge of the things that exist. For the mind perceives the phenomena through the eyes, and understands what is spoken through the hearing; through the tongue it distinguishes the qualities of tastes, and through the sense of smell it tests the differences of vapors; and it uses the hand for whatever it wishes, employing the organ in cooperation for these purposes. For the membrane that surrounds the brain, following the order of nature, serves the senses by means of the animal spirit, while being adjusted to the visual, olfactory, auditory, and gustatory organs, which are moved by it.
We have learned that the vital faculties originate from the heart itself. For the soul uses the innate heat within us, D which is always in motion, as an instrument (this is called by some the vital power), through which it accomplishes all its activity. For the vital spirit that flows from it, being supplied to the brain and proceeding from there to the senses and all the nerves of the body, proves us to be living and active. For the pulsatile motion originates from the heart, since nothing—
with the dilation and contraction of the lung, for the purpose of expelling sooty wastes and admitting the pure air in return, so that the vital tension—which is to say, the innate heat within the heart—may be fanned and rekindled.
From the liver, moreover, the natural faculties are set in motion; for indeed, through its operation, our entire body is nourished and we grow; and again, we hunger for food: for digestion, distribution, blood-making, and addition, and separation, and excretion. For these three faculties—that from the heart, that from the liver, and that from the brain—govern our entire life; wherefore some have defined these to be parts of the soul; for one of the wise prays to be submerged in the abyss of B impassibility regarding the tripartite nature of the soul. And it is a marvel how that which is incorporeal is tripartite. Nevertheless, there are certain energies, or forces: the irascible, the appetitive, and the rational. The irascible, then, is set in motion from the heart, the appetitive from the liver, and the rational from the brain. And from the irascible faculty, anger is born; now, anger is an ebullition of the blood around the heart, moved toward a desire for retaliation against those who have provoked it. It is derived either from *thyo* (to rush/boil), as being impetuous, or from *thyein haima* (boiling blood), as being a sort of boiling-blood: or one who boils, that is, who rushes, moved by blood, and is impelled by blood. From the appetitive faculty, desire is moved; now, desire is the primary impulse of every living thing C toward something loved; and from the rational faculty, calculation is impelled; calculation is the first concept to arise in the mind: it is the non-material motion and disturbance of things; or an image of sensible things subsisting in the intellect, with which the mind, being moved, claims or does something, whether openly or secretly, toward the things formed by it. And the virtues of the irascible part are patience, temperance, and courage; its vices, however, are wrath, madness, cowardice, and pusillanimity. The virtues of the appetitive part are sobriety, and the desire for immortal goods, and the love of God and of one's neighbor. Its vices, however, are licentiousness, intemperance, and the desire for earthly goods. The virtues of the rational part are prudence, piety, and the fear of God; its vices are craftiness, deceit, and the lack of fear of God.
For when God fashioned man, He implanted D passions and moral characters within him; or rather, He made him capable of both, and through the sensory organs He enthroned the ruling mind as a queen;
and has granted to him a law of free will; according to which, if he conducts himself through better things, he will reign with a sober, just, good, and brave reign. A If he chooses the better part, then, as he says, that the good is no less than the seeds given by God is a sign of greater wisdom; for in virtue, both that which is within our power is unimpeded, and the wisdom of God implanted in us is manifest. Now there are four species of wisdom, which some call general virtues: prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. B Prudence is the most sovereign of all, from which the intellect gains the upper hand over the passions. Wisdom, therefore, is the knowledge of divine and human things. Temperance however is the mastery of the desires, or rather, temperance is the virtue of the desiring faculty, by which they hold back the desire of the intellect when it is rushing toward base impulses.
Of the desires, some are psychical, others bodily; and the intellect seems to gain the mastery over both. C For the intellect is a leader of the virtues, but a sovereign master of the passions; not in the sense that it destroys them, but so that it does not yield to them. For example, no one can utterly root out desire from us, but the intellect is able to provide that we are not enslaved to desire. Similarly, no one can root out anger, but it can assist the intellect in not being enslaved to anger. For the intellect is not an uprooter of the passions, but an antagonist. There are two most comprehensive natures of the passions, pleasure and pain; both of these are by nature centered upon both the body and the soul; and there are many sequelae of the passions regarding both. Now before pleasure there is desire, which is moved by pleasure; and after pleasure, joy or sorrow consists; for if the ends of pleasure are good, there is joy; if base, sorrow. Before pain, there is fear; and after pain, sorrow follows; but anger is D a passion common to both pleasure and pain. That the ends of pleasure consist of both joy and sorrow, not even a simpleton is unaware; for infants, desiring the mother’s breast, lunge for it and with great joy embrace it when they see it; and when they are deprived of something that produces pleasure, they are sorrowed.
Now of the pleasures, some are of the soul, and others are of the body. Those of the soul are those of the soul itself, considered in their own right, such as those concerned with learning and contemplation; but the bodily ones are those that occur with the communion of the body
and partake of matters related to food and sexual intercourse; but one could not find pleasures of the body alone. A Furthermore, of pleasures, some are false and some are true, according to Plato. False are those that occur with sensation and an untrue opinion, and they have sorrows entwined with them; true are those that belong to the soul alone, consisting of knowledge, mind, and wisdom, pure and devoid of sorrow. And of bodily pleasures, some are both necessary and natural, without which it is impossible to live, such as food and clothing; others are natural but not necessary, such as unions according to nature and law; for it is possible to live even without these. Others are neither natural nor necessary, but even superfluous, such as drunkenness, lasciviousness, and greed; for these also cause harm, and for this reason they are superfluous.
Pleasure is also a most multifaceted state of malice, being the greatest of all B passions. As regards the soul, it is arrogance, greed, love of glory, love of rule, contentiousness, and envy; as regards the body, it is gluttony, greediness in eating, and solitary eating. And just as many shoots, which are praised, spring from the most general virtues—prudence, justice, courage, and temperance—such as piety, good counsel, endurance, patience, and moderation, gentleness and benevolence, love of beauty, orderliness, propriety, self-control, and C modesty, along with ten thousand others in addition to these; so too, of the comprehensive passions, namely pleasure and pain, there exist anger, tumult, lasting resentment, folly, licentiousness, bad counsel, haughtiness, arrogance, strife, hatred, jealousy, sorrow, reviling, and faint-heartedness. From these, many others branch out and carve themselves into a throng of passions, each of which the master-husbandman, reason, by purging, pruning, intertwining, and irrigating, and by diverting them in every way, tames the materials of character and passion.
For reason, as has been said, is the leader of the virtues and the master of the passions; D but it does not yet rule over forgetfulness and ignorance. For reason does not hold sway over the same passions, but rather over those that are contrary to justice, temperance, courage, and wisdom; not so as to prevent them from coming into existence, but so as not to be subjugated to them. Forgetfulness and ignorance are passions of reason itself; for when the activity of knowledge is destroyed, it sets up its...
A re-collection. Memory, as Aristotle says, is an imagination remaining from some sense-perception that appeared during its activity; but according to Plato, it is the preservation of sense-perception and intellection. For the soul perceives sensible things through the sense organs, and opinion comes to be; but [it perceives] the intelligible things through the mind, and intellection comes to be. Therefore, when it preserves and keeps the types of what it has formed opinions of and what it has understood, it is said to remember. Recollection is the recovery of a fading report; it becomes fading through forgetfulness. Forgetfulness is the loss of memory, but one is continuous, while the other is temporary; of which recollection is the work.
The origin of all the aforementioned passions—those that come from pleasure and pain, and indeed those contrary to them, that is, the virtues—is from the tripartite soul and from those things within our power; for the general virtues are distributed among these. In the rational part resides prudence; in the appetitive, temperance; in the incensive, fortitude. B Justice, however, is distributed among the three, as it is the part that is within our power that acts; for unless one intends to guard the place of justice, he will not be found to be temperate, nor to act with fortitude, nor to desire well against the passions. But to choose or to will is among the things within our power; for it is within our power to be just or unjust, diligent or ignorant, wise or foolish. For it is agreed among all that to study or to practice exercise is within our power; not as habits, but as being masters of the habits; for the practices are masters of the habits. Custom is an acquired nature. But practice is master of the habit; and if practice is in our power, then the habit is also in our power; and of those things of which the habits are in our power, the actions that proceed C according to the habits are also in our power; for actions are accommodated to habits. Therefore, he who has a just habit will do just things; and likewise, he who has an unjust one will do the opposite; for of things that equally can happen, we are masters by our action; and it is equally possible to do what we can do, and its opposite. The choice of these is our mind; for this is the principle of actions; and deliberation is also among the things within our power, just as choice is; for they define choice as a deliberative appetite of things within our power. These things, then, are concerning the tripartite [soul], as much as one can learn in short form where their D impulse comes from.
A Natural, vital, and animal faculties proceed from these three; for the innate heat consists in the heart, but the constitution of the blood takes place in the liver. The voluntary motion, however, proceeds from the brain; wherefore our whole body is rendered warm by the heart itself, while that which emits heat is moistened by the moisture of the brain; hence it comes to pass that, by the power of contrary qualities in comparison with one another, both are kept unharmed, while the moist part does not dry up through an excess of heat, nor is the hot part extinguished by an overabundance of that which moistens. B The third of these faculties holds together the parts that have been distinguished by means of a certain contribution and harmony, adapting them through its own ligaments, and transmitting to all the self-moving and voluntary faculty; when this fails, the body becomes relaxed and lifeless, being deprived of the voluntary spirit. For since bones are by nature devoid of sensation, nature itself—or rather He who rules over nature and created it—has adapted and joined them with sensory nerves. And through this natural union and harmony, He has tightened their joints, and through ligaments He has implanted flesh in them that is capable of perceiving sensation, and further wrapped around them other flesh, more insensitive and stronger, by means of muscles and ligaments beneath the very surface, and lastly has stretched the skin over it.
C Since, therefore, the Prince of nature herself had set the weight of the whole body upon these solid bones as upon certain load-bearing columns, He did not form it of one indivisible bone, lest the faculty of motion and action should be cut off from it, or it should become, like a tree remaining in one spot, destitute of all action, so that it could neither employ the ministry of the feet for moving forward to further places, nor have the aid of the hands for tasks conducive to life. But He divided the foot into femur, knee, patella, tibia, and ankle, and toes; and, having fulfilled the office of an excellent craftsman by again joining and adapting them with the ligaments of the bones, He fashioned this structure as an instrument of the soul suitable for changing place and performing work. He did the same also with the hands, the neck, the chest, the spine, and all the parts of the body, which, on account of the concern of nature, He carries out by the office of the voluntary spirit in every part coupled in a concordant bond. D Come, now, let us behold the notable work of the Creator's art. For He created some bones hollow, but others not hollow; and some He made large, while others He made small. And to those
A He enclosed marrow, but for others He established a hard and solid nature, and for yet others a loose and weak one. Some bones He created with an attached appendage, others with a neck, some united, others composed: some are articulated, others are coupled by joints; some are fitted together to one another, others are composed, some cohere by sutures, others by harmony. Some are fixed after the manner of a nail, while others are shut together. And some are complicated by cartilage, others by nerves, and others by fleshiness.
Since the entire composition of the bones is called B *skeleton*, and *skeleton* is said to be "the dried-up place," as Homer says, "And with filth its dry skin had hardened." But what each of these names of the compositions or dearticulations of the bones is, you might learn from the physicians themselves; yet, so that many things may not be left obscure for you, know that *engomphosis* (nailing) is a certain articulation by driving in, as is the case in the teeth. A *suture*, which is so named, is seen in the bones of the head. *Ginglymus* is a coherency by which bones coming together are joined to one another, as is seen in the vertebrae of the spine and in the *dearticulation* C that extends from the elbow to the arm. Indeed, an *arthron* (joint) is the natural composition of bones, and this is what is called a joint. *Symphysis* is when natural bones are united together, and you would call this coalescence; but *epiphysis* is the eminence or process of one bone toward another, and it is seen in any bone.
But we call a bone a body, which contains most of the earthy portion within itself, which also lacks sense and is resistant and hard, and serves as a kind of support D for the remaining parts of the body. Yet all of these are moved by muscles and nerves, to which the brain imparts this motive faculty. For the membrane that surrounds the brain, covered with small veins, is held to be the root and principle of their movement. The membrane, which in Greek is called *hymen*, obtained this name because it performs the function of a most subtle garment. For when this consists correctly, the movement of the whole body is rendered most absolute in its measurements. Indeed, if it should happen that a small part of a toe is moved, know that it has been moved by this without a doubt. But if it should happen that that membrane is at any time shaken or torn by some disease or by an injury being the cause, death immediately follows from the passion itself, with nature not resisting in the slightest; but just as if some foundation were pulled away, the whole mass of the building happens to fall down with the part, so also, when the membranes that are contained under the cranium are injured, the soul of that body departs.
A It is to these three faculties, therefore, that what is appropriate for each is supplied from without. For while the sources of blood spring up from the liver for the sake of nourishment, the vital spirit of the heart is brought in from the neighboring organ—the one called the lung; for this is a container for air through the trachea attached to it, which leads to the mouth, and through which the spirit from without is drawn in during respiration. And because the heart is situated in their midst, and, in imitation of the energy of an ever-moving fire, is itself moved without ceasing, it draws toward itself from the lung adjacent to it the spirit to fill its cavities. By its dilation, it fans its own fiery nature and breathes into the arteries that are near it, and it never ceases doing this; by dilation it draws in the spirit from without into its own cavities, and by contraction it expels its own to the arteries—which I believe is the cause for us of that automatic respiration. For often the mind is occupied with other things, or is even at rest altogether, when the body is relaxed in sleep; yet the respiration of air does not cease in the least, nor does the will cooperate in this. The lung is somewhat porous and full of passages, and it holds all the cavities within it standing up toward the base of the trachea; the heart is enveloped by it, and adheres to its hinder part. As it contracts and collapses, it presses out the spirit retained in its cavities and pushes it forward; but as it withdraws and opens, it draws in the air through the pull—and this, as has been said, is the cause of involuntary respiration. Hence it is also that, whenever the heat of the heart is intensified against nature—perhaps from inflammation or some pain—the asthma of the sufferers becomes more frequent, and smaller and faster than the natural order requires. B It is smaller so that it may not strike and cause pain too violently; it is faster so that the frequency might compensate for what is lacking in size; it is just as if the heart were hastening to extinguish the inflammation that has fallen upon it with a newer and cooler spirit. C The reason for this quickening is held to be that the heat, which has been removed in magnitude, is countered by the quickening itself, by which the inflammation of the heart, as it hastens, is extinguished by the force of the fresher and colder breeze.
Some, however, have thought that respiration is a purely natural function; but this is not so; it is both psychic and natural, for the natural has been interwoven with the psychic. D For the power that moves the organs is psychic, but the artery through which this energy is executed is a natural organ, and one that is always in motion. And all things called organic
and those which are moved by means of nerves and muscles, are psychic and are accomplished according to choice; except for breathing, for this is mixed, as we have shown, and is accomplished without choice; and without choice also are the augmentative and nutritive faculties of the body, being natural; but also the pulsatile, being vital. But movement according to impulse and sensation are psychic. B How many are the organs of breathing, and how many are the causes, and how many its differences, it is not now the time to say; but the heart, having the lung behind it, directs it to be always in motion, as was said a little before. And in front of it, being fixed to the diaphragm of the upper stomach, it renders it warm and moved toward its own proper activities; not by stirring the stomach toward the drawing in of spirit as it does the lung, but toward the reception of appropriate food. C For the heart, being placed in the middle of the lung and the stomach, imparts faculties to the one for breathing, and to the other for nourishment. And the passages of both appear to be directed equally toward the mouth. We call the passage for the spirit the trachea, and that for the stomach the esophagus. Since the stomach is the instrument of digestion (for in it what is eaten is turned into juice), let us demonstrate what happens in it more clearly by an example. For just as when we take wheat and grind it in mills, making flour; then mixing it with water we knead it, and pass it to the oven for baking; and after the baking we both eat ourselves and share with others: so also in our body it is possible to see. For we chew the food and grind it with the teeth; then having mixed it with drink, we pass it to the stomach. D Since it needs more heat to cook these things, just as the oven does for bread, it has the heart placed above it in the manner which has been described, so as to provide it with abundant heat. The liver also is hot, as it gushes forth like springs of blood; and it has the spleen, not as being hot (for this internal organ is by nature cold), but through the veins and arteries that are in it, it partakes of heat from it no less than from the others. But it also has the omentum, which is a fatty tunic wrapped around it on all sides, for the sake of not allowing the innate heat to transpire and disperse, which acts upon the foods in it; and for this reason also the so-called peritoneum is stretched over both it and the intestines, constraining...
the abdomen and heating it, so that by the proximity of this heat to the abdomen, it becomes more inflamed, and attracts to itself all the more those things that nourish the abdomen.
Both the stomach and the liver perform certain common functions: the former, in truth, converts the material into chyle; the liver, however, converts it into blood. And the stomach sends the chyle down to the liver. The liver, indeed, renders back what it receives, having concocted it, and converts it into blood; and thus, through the ministry of the veins, it is distributed throughout the entire body. The faculty of alteration itself, performing its own work and resolving all things that had been constituted—even if they should happen to be of differing natures as they are brought into the stomach—turns them into the single form of chyle. This is entirely white, because the stomach is white, being by nature nervous. B
Such is chyle, and not “sap” (*chymos*); for that chyle differs from sap is not unclear. For that which has been made through digestion and brewing is called sap; but that which is undigested and unbrewed is chyle.
Therefore, the nutritive faculty, having taken up this chyle through the mesentery and the adjacent veins, and having kneaded it by means of them—just as if through some funnel—transports it to the next passages. And having separated the thicker portion from the pure, it leads the thin and already purer part to the gates of the liver, or rather it transmits it to the liver by way of the aorta, a so-called artery, which is the first of the arteries to sprout from the heart. At the entrance C of the fluids already given to the liver, the heart is connected to it; because of the moisture, having boiled it up through its own heat, it imparts more heat and brewing to the chyle out of the kindred innate fire that resides within it.
Then the liver itself, through the veins that are in it, drawing up the entirety of the purer chyle that has been warmed up from the aorta, and staining it with its own fiery color, shows it to be red, whereas it was previously white and unbrewed; and it becomes D blood, according to the fact that it is a *enamma* (binding material) and a bond for the body. And thus it sends it out over the entire body through the veins, seizing the sufficient amount for its own proper nourishment; this is the genesis of blood. For in human beings, blood is the pericardial *aima*.
Since the blood is therefore built up in the manner we have described, it is again filtered and separated; and
whatever is light and tends upward—which is by its own nature suited to be the waste matter of yellow bile—the gall bladder, situated near the liver, receives it. But the earthy part, and as it were the dregs of the blood, the spleen draws to itself through the same passage, making this its own proper nourishment. For every limb receives the nourishment appropriate to it. Then, by digesting, altering, and assimilating it little by little, it adds it to its own substance; and in this way they are nourished, some by the seed, others by the blood. Since, therefore, the spleen is nourished by the dreggy blood, it draws the dreggy blood from the liver. A There remains, then, the serous part of the blood, and by their attractive faculty, the kidneys, taking this up and drawing out the little moisture of the blood present in it for nourishment, fashion the watery—or rather, the entirely watery—waste into the constitution of urine.
What urine is, and how many are its differences, and what the change in urines is, and which of them belongs to those who are sick or healthy—this is a matter for another treatise. But thus, in the kidneys, the distinguishing faculty fashions the urine, and through the expulsive faculty, it is pushed outward.
Nature pushes the entirely muddy and excrementitious dregs of the food into the wider B passages of the intestines; and by circulating it through their winding folds, it detains the food in them for some time. Why? So that, if the exit for the excrement were a straight channel, the feces might be easily cast out, and the animal might immediately be moved to seek food, and the human being—as one can observe in creatures devoid of reason—would never cease from such activity. For the excrement of dry food is feces, just as urine, which is sent down into the bladder, is the excrement of drink—that is, the serous portion of the total food. Indeed, what remains from the body's food, and is of no benefit to us, is called excrement.
For all the actions of nature C are interwoven with the actions of the soul. And how the works of nature are interwoven and harmonized with these things that are the Creator's providence for the soul, must be considered from this point onward. Since even that emission of excrements which we mentioned, which occurs externally, belongs to the faculty that possesses the power of excretion—which is considered to be one of the natural faculties—in order that we might not, in an unchosen manner, behave indecently where it is not appropriate, and when it is not appropriate, and before whom it is not appropriate, and fall into disgrace, nature has attached to the excretions certain gatekeepers, the muscles, so that we might be able to restrain the excretions, D and frequently and for a long time, without any extreme old age or specific illnesses.
B When these things have thus taken place—that is to say, the generation and dispersal of the blood throughout the entire body, and the management of everything else mentioned—certain twin channels, originating from the heart and the liver, namely the main vein and the artery which is called the aorta, containing within themselves properly in the manner of a tube both blood and spirit, since the fluid is easy to convey, accompany the movement of the heat and, being made light, are scattered in a multifaceted way throughout the entire body; they pour themselves out into tens of thousands of sources and outflows, C sending forth veins and arteries inside and outside through every part of the body, like branches. For since the nature of the blood is thick by definition, and it is not able alone to pass through the narrow passages of the body without hindrance—because there are delicate, hair-like veins positioned according to the various parts—it was in need of the watery excretion to accompany it, so that by the thinness of the watery excretion the blood might easily proceed both towards the delicate vessels and through the hair-like veins throughout the entire body, as has been said. When the two sources of the vital faculties have been mixed together with one another—that is, the one which sends forth heat from the heart everywhere into the body, and the one which provides the fluid from the liver for the more primary governance of the vital faculty—they distribute gifts. For the purest portion of the heat, and the thinnest part of the fluid, being united by a certain mixing and tempering of each faculty, nourish and sustain the brain through vapors. From this, again, a distillation refined from it lubricates the membrane that encompasses the brain, which receives the psychic activity—which the physicians call the "reticular plexus."
For the soul itself is by its own nature something divine and incorporeal; it does not shine into this body directly, but uses as an instrument a certain thing called the "psychic spirit." This is sent forth from the heart through the aorta, and being carried D to the aforementioned reticular plexus, it is there digested and refined, and becomes ethereal and light-like, so as to be fit to receive the brightness of the soul. If, therefore, this should be thicker and more turbid, the substance of the soul is not harmed by it in any way, but the body, because of the poor quality of the spirit, is neither clearly illuminated nor manifests its actions; but if it should be of a fine texture, the body enjoys the psychic activities without obstruction. For this reason, therefore, remaining pure, we believe it to be better, and
A perform the lead acts; but when we are full of dregs, and especially after indigestions, we are unable to perform any of the necessary functions. From the aforementioned muscle, therefore, comes all movement of the joints, and every contraction of the muscles, and every voluntary spirit sent forth to all the parts of our body, which shows our earthy image moving as if by some machine. For since this muscle extends from above toward the depths, in the manner of a pipe, through the successive vertebrae of the spine, and along the seams and the marrow embedded within it, it terminates at the base of the spine; and it is joined to all the joinings of the bones and the attachments of the muscles, as a charioteer imparting to it the impulse and power for each movement. For this reason, it seems to me, it was judged worthy of a safer guard. In the head, it is wrapped in a circular order by a double circumference of bones; and in the spine, by the outgrowths of the vertebrae and the varied intertwinings of their structure, through which the brain is kept in complete safety by the membrane surrounding it B.
Similarly, one might observe the same regarding the heart, for like a secure house, it is braced by the stronger circuit of bones and fortified by the surrounding circles of the bones. For at the back is the spine, connected to the security of the shoulder blades; and on either side, the nature of the ribs, folding around the middle, renders it difficult to harm. At the front, the breastbone and the junction of the bone known as the collarbone are placed, so that from every side the heart itself might avoid all annoyances coming from without. Within, it is received by the lung as if from a very soft bed, which makes it safe and unharmed; for the lung, being of a foamy substance and of the softest flesh, encompasses the heart, so that it may both receive its pulses and, by not striking back against it, cause it no pain, and also provide moderate relief to its need for cooling through respiration C.
And since the vital activities of the body have need of relaxation, so that the bodily condition may not be blunted by continuous labor, the need for sleep was discovered by nature; when also the blood-making of the liver is accomplished without hindrance, and the supply of nourishment from it, distributed to every part, is in no way impeded. Whence, after food, as the nature of the body in its depths draws together and presses toward the digestion of the food, and as the innate heat runs together there, certain wholesome vapors are produced in the fermentation and digestion of the food D.
For the things being digested are accustomed to send the moisture of the vapors upward. A Therefore, the fluids already evaporated from the digestion rise to the brain, and they moisten it sufficiently, and they block its cavities with the abundance of their misty thickness. Thus, when the vital spirit—which is supplied to the sensory organs and to the nerves extending everywhere in the body—becomes dulled in its activity, the human being becomes inactive and resembles a corpse. B Hence, the condition that takes hold of the animal is called "sleep" (*hypnos*), from the "withdrawing" (*hyponostein*)—that is, the "receding"—of the intellect; for in sleep the human senses do recede, in the manner already spoken of. In sleep, the natural activities also take place, and the digestions, and the blood-formations, and the distributions of food to all the members are accomplished without hindrance, because the animal is inactive in its natural movement. For sleep is a stillness and a pause of the natural activities.
C If, however, the distribution intended for the sensory organs should be obstructed by the exhalation occurring within, or if sleep should be hindered by some need, the nervous system, becoming filled with those vapors, naturally stretches itself of its own accord. For muscles and nerves are accustomed to dilate when they are warmed; this happens so that, by means of the tension and dilation, the part thickened by the vapors may be thinned out—similar to what those who wring out wet cloths do for the sake of pressing out the water. And since the parts around the throat are of a circular shape, it is manifest that they are beset with many nerves. And when it is necessary to expel from them the vapors that are thickening, the muscles that are in the mouth distend and separate; and, with all the parts that exist within being circular in shape, they exhale that vaporous thickness which was entangled in the parts themselves, along with the breath that goes out during the yawn. D Such a thing is also accustomed to occur to those who have been awakened from sleep, when some portion of those vapors remains in those places, unbreathed out and undigested. Not only are the digestions, blood-formations, and distributions accomplished during the time of sleep, but also the remaining excrements are [processed]; the thick ones are thinned, and the thin and acrid ones are thickened proportionately; they are brought to a good temperament and transformed; and the superfluous matters are urged toward excretion. And the experience of time is a witness to this; for as soon as we rise from sleep, we hasten toward urination and the evacuation of solid waste.
A Sleep also knows how to blunt the intensity of diseases and sicknesses, to soothe mental anxieties and sorrows, and to produce joy. For the reversal of a difficult illness toward health is a joy to the good, both for friends, relatives, and acquaintances, and for the sufferer himself. Sorrow and joy B do not consist in choice, but in the sequence of events. For a person who is flourishing in life, hearing and seeing things that are agreeable to him, and expecting nothing difficult to happen to him, is affected by joy; but one who is impoverished, or beaten, or suffering loss, or always expecting things that are not good, must necessarily be sorrowful.
Laughter, flowing from joy, is born; but from sorrow, groans and tears are produced. Since the state of the soul that lacks pleasure is sorrow, which when called *lype* in Greek—from *lyein*, which you might call "to loosen"—is so named because it loosens the eyes into tears, and damages them; or it might be explained as *lymainesthai*, as if it were a certain injury to the eyes. For suffering, full of pain, is a loosening of the soul. But joy, some define as the possession of one's desires. Tears, which in the Greek language are called *dakrya*, are as if a certain *daknyon* (a biting thing); for from a soul that is being bitten, the tear emerges. Its genesis is as follows: When distress comes upon a person and constricts the soul, a feverish constriction of the internal organs occurs; from this, a great exhalation of humors moves toward the brain. When its cavities are filled with the exhalations [proceeding] from the sorrow, the moisture is pushed toward the coats of the eyes; and at the involuntary pricking of the moisture, it is carried down by its own weight—just as clouds are accustomed to be converted into dew—and in this way, these thickening vapors happen to be resolved into tears. Whence those who weep, as the great Basil asserts, while that which burdens the brain is being emptied out of them, are affected by a certain pleasure hidden beneath their mourning.
C From this, I say, the constriction of the organs which we have asserted, and the great exhalation, since the instruments of respiration are also compressed, D more violent drafts of breath are frequently emitted by nature itself, to help in dilating those things which had collapsed. You might call this accident of sorrow a "sigh"; and thus we name this exhalation. For the soul, as it were, refreshes itself through this groan, [relieving itself] from that ardor which, because of the supervening grief of sorrow, thickens in the heart...
A and is replaced by the admission of pure air. In this way, tears and groaning are constituted within us.
Joy, indeed, is a certain exultation of the soul, which happens when it is exhilarated by things turning out according to its own desire. For just as when we are distressed, the subtle and imperceptible ventilations of the pores are compressed, and the vapor rising up darkens the brain, and the soul is contracted and becomes downcast; so, too, in joy, the pores of the body are in a way relaxed and opened, and as they are dilated more than usual, the subtle and warm spirit is drawn down into the depths. B Being warmed there, however, to a greater degree, the inward parts can no longer contain the abundance and the heat of the spirit. Wherefore, nature, devising a certain ease for the egress of the spirit, no longer sends vapors up to the brain, but dilates the passage of the mouth, and, through a certain seething agitation and movement of the liver, forces this spirit out: the name given to this occurrence is laughter. For thus do they define it also: a seething movement of the muscles around the face, or rather, of the muscular membrane, caused by the spirit being pushed from the inward parts. Laughter (*gelos*) is so called from *gelo*, and *gelo* is from *ele*, which signifies heat; for those who are warm laugh much.
Since, therefore, sorrow and joy differ, the symptoms also that arise in the body from these differ. C For in those who are sorrowful, the bulk of the body appears pale, bloodless, and chilled; but in those who are gladdened, the habit of the body is blooming and ruddy, as if the soul itself were leaping out and, through pleasure, urging outward the joy that had been circumscribing it from within.
How, then, this animal is generated, and how it is nourished, and how the vital and natural D faculties work within it, and how the mind acts through the senses, and what the threefold faculty of the soul is, and how many are the primary virtues, and what are the genera of vice or virtue arising from them, and how joy and sorrow are constituted, and how laughter, tears, and sleep are collected, has already been explained as well as possible. It remains for us to look at the parts of the body: both those called simple and primary, those composed of these, and those called organic; how they are named, how they are connected, and why they are so denominated.
A In this, too, we must implore aid from God the Lord, that He might assist our minds in this contemplation, lest my ignorances multiply and my lack of understanding abound while I investigate the works of His wisdom unknowingly and unlearnedly. For those who yearn for things beyond their strength fall short even of the moderate. Yet one must not hesitate nor despair of the attempt, for He himself is the one who said: "Everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened."
Of parts that are called similar and dissimilares.
B Of the parts in our bodies, some are called similar [homogeneous], others dissimilar [heterogeneous]. Similar parts are the simple and primary ones—for example, blood, phlegm, black bile, and yellow bile. These are the elements of the body, from which and with which the brain, the membranes, the muscles, the nerves, the marrow within the bones, the bones themselves, the cartilage, the glands, the ligaments, the panniculi of the brain, the fibers, hairs, nails, flesh, veins, arteries, passages, fat, skin, and tendons consist; these, along with the muscles, are composite, constructed from ligaments and nervous fibers. These, then, are the similar and primary parts.
From these, the dissimilar and organic ones were composed, such as the head, the thorax, the hands, the feet, and all that consists of the similar parts. For every dissimilar part consists of similar parts. From these follows the symmetrical or asymmetrical body, with symmetry considered in four aspects: in shape, in number, in magnitude, and in position; likewise with asymmetry in the opposite. For the beauty of the body is the harmonious proportion of parts, along with good complexion. This occurs when the similar parts are in a good temperament, and the organic parts are in good proportion. For the virtues of the body are health and strength; beauty and integrity, or completeness. The virtues of the soul are prudence, temperance, courage, and justice.
C Strength of the body therefore corresponds to courage of the soul; for strength is the vigor of the body, and a power invincible to those who are ailing or unable to manage the body. But courage is the strength and power of the soul regarding the endurance of intense impressions—of death, pain, misery, pleasures, and all things thought to be terrible and fearful. D Justice is akin to beauty; for beauty is perceived in the symmetry of the body with good complexion, while justice is perceived in the distribution of things to each according to their worth. Completeness [integrity] is akin to prudence; for prudence is the fulfillment of the soul’s correct apprehensions, just as completeness is of the body’s limbs. And temperance is akin to health.
A Health, strictly speaking, is a temperate well-being; while well-being is a sustained state of health. Attending upon health are beauty, well-being, and integrity. By beauty, I do not mean that which comes from cosmetics, or from facial salves or hair dyes, but that which consists in the consequence of health, being established by the good temperament of the innate heat, and of the similar, instrumental parts and organs. For health is an equilibrium of the humors within us, and the unimpeded operation of the physical, psychic, and vital faculties, whereby the character of the soul and the body is beautifully manifested. B Now, the character of the soul is such a quality as is solidified and difficult to cast off, that is to say, one which is stable and settled into a habit. The character of the body is the proper order of each part—that is, the perfection considered through the absence of the extremes, both of excess and of deficiency. Ugliness consists in both excess and deficiency. For one who is excessive in some part, as are some who are six-fingered, or lacking in a hand, a foot, an eye, or some other part, is ugly and disproportionate; and this is a mistake against number. C But it is also so when the form is awry, for instance, in eyes or feet that are distorted, or one hand larger than the other. It is also said to be faulty regarding its position; for instance, if the intestines are in the hip, or if the thigh is outside the socket, or the hand is grown onto the shoulder blade, or something of that sort. Similarly, it is so regarding size, as when one has an oversized head, or one smaller than is natural; or a nose or an eye; or even the whole body, as is the case with giants or dwarfs. For of the limbs in us, some are suited for living, others for living well. Those that are made simply for living are essential, such as the brain, the heart, the stomach, the liver, and the lungs, for if these are injured, the animal dies. D Those for living well are the eyes, feet, hands, and other parts; if these are injured, the animal continues to live, but does not live well. For this reason, God, out of an exceeding care, made the sensory organs in pairs, so that if one is injured, the remaining one may preserve the sensation. For He has made two eyes, two ears, two channels of smell in the nose, and has instilled a double tongue in all animals—though in some they are divided, as in snakes, while in others they are joined and united, as in humans. But although most sensory organs may be damaged, the animal suffers no danger to its life itself, but if the sense of touch...
e in others they are joined and united, as in humans. But although most sensory organs may be damaged, the animal suffers no danger to its life itself, but if the sense of touch A is destroyed, the animal perishes along with it. For every animal possesses touch, while they are not all endowed with all the other senses—some possess some, others others—but the more perfect beasts possess them all. Humans, however, have excelled other animals in touch and taste, and in these they are most precise, even if they are surpassed in the other three. For one animal excels humans in one sense, another in another, among the three; but the dog excels in all three at once: for it hears, sees, and smells more acutely, as is evident in those that track beasts. B
Not only has the Creator distinguished us with paired sensory organs, but He also willed that they be endowed with a dual sense: one that is peculiar to them, and another of touch. As with sight: for it distinguishes colors, and it perceives thermal and cold things; but it perceives these as a body, and colors and luminous things as sight. And indeed, through the most earthy 37 and most corporeal of the sensory organs, which is touch, it perceives the earthy nature. Through the airy one, it distinguishes the affections of the air through the sense of hearing; and through the sponge-like 38 quality of the tongue, and the watery one in taste, it perceives flavors; for every sensible thing is by nature destined to be known through its proper sensory organs.
Therefore, for this reason, since there are four elements, it was necessary that there be four senses as well. But since the nature of vapor and the genus of odors is intermediate between air and water—for it is thicker than air but subtler than water—for this reason, nature has bestowed upon us a fifth sensory organ within. That the nature of both vapors and odors is thicker than air is made clear from those who suffer from nasal mucus or catarrh: for when they draw in air, they do not perceive the vapors because of the obstruction, but they remain for a long time keeping the sensory organ immune from perceiving the sensible objects. For sense itself is not an alteration, but that which perceives the alteration itself; for things that fall under sense are rendered subject to alteration. And sense distinguishes the alteration. D
Indeed, there are five sensory organs, but there is one sense, which is that of the soul, which recognizes through the sensory organs themselves the affections that happen to it. For when it happens to see white, from that which it has perceived through the ministry of the sense, the same affection is born in the soul. The same pattern must also be applied to the other sensory organs. For sense is one thing, and the sensory organ is another; and the sensible thing is one, and the sentient thing is another. 48
Sense, therefore, is the acting power of the soul; for which reason it is subjected to this definition: Sense is an intellectual spirit, which extends from the ruling faculty to the organs 49. Or
A. Plato, however, defines sense as the communion of power and organ, that is to say, of soul and body; for the power belongs to the soul, but the organ to the body; and both, through the imagination, are capable of perceiving external things.
A *sensorium* is an instrument capable of perceiving sensible objects, or any instrument which is believed to be a certain sense. A *sensate* thing is that which falls under the senses. *Sensible* is the animal itself which perceives a sensate thing. *Sense*, therefore, is, for example, sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch. The *sensorium* is, for instance, the eye, the nose, the tongue, and the lips, which are also called sensory instruments. A *sensate* is, for example, a stone, wood, and everything which can fall under the senses. *Sensible* is, for example, Peter, Stephen, Meletius, and all other animals which perceive; for, as the Scripture says, "The ox knows its owner, and the ass its master's crib" (Isa. 1, 3). Since irrational creatures share with rational B humans in this capacity for sense, those who have written the history of dissections have rightly noted that in the structure of the body, the harmony of the bones, and the composition of the entrails, there is not much difference in some animals from man, being more evident in the animals we have just mentioned; for their bodies are composed of the same elements as those of men; there is very little difference between the two kinds in their similar parts, even if they differ from each other in the composition of their organs and their taste. For God, according to the judgment of His own will, disposed the members in any of their bodies in the most beautiful order C.
The body of man is not one member, but many. And it is divided into the head, and the breast, and the upper and lower belly, and the spine, and the loins, and the hands and feet. The head contains the brain, the eyes, the nose, the ears, the opening of the mouth, and what consists within the mouth, such as the tongue, the teeth, the throat, and the parts that are specified. The breast contains the place of the lungs and the heart. The neck contains the clavicle. But also the ribs [contain] the membrane which covers them; the spine [contains] the vertebrae and the marrow. The loins contain the kidneys and the receptacles of D fluid excrement, or urine. The upper belly is divided into the stomach, the liver, the spleen, and the upper part of the gut. The lower belly [is divided] into the intestines, fat, excrement, and what is situated near the pubes. The hands are divided into the arm, the shoulder, the elbows, the palm, and the fingers. The feet are divided into the thigh, the knees, the legs, the ankles, the heels, and the toes. All these things and many others are called members, and parts, and particles, and places, both separately
ngers. The feet are divided into the thigh, knee, leg, ankle, heel, and toes. All these things, and many others, are called members, and parts, and particles, and places separately A and synonymously. However, when describing larger and more complete things, we are accustomed to call them members; but when smaller, parts. Yet the same thing can be called both a part and a member; for example, the head is a member of the body, but also a part. The nape is a part of the head, and the eye is a part of it. The hand is a member of the body, but the finger is considered a part of the hand; and thus you might say the same of others. Indeed, a part is so called from the fact that it is divided, and one thing differs from another. Members, however, are thought to consist with harmony in our body, by way of metaphor from musical melodies, such as those of a lyre or a flute; for these too are known to consist by a certain concordant composition. Particles, however, which in Greek are called [i]μόρια[/i], are as it were certain divided boundaries, or are the parts of parts.
Every member, therefore, consists of flesh, skin, bones, membranes, nerves, muscles, veins, and arteries, which are nourished by suitable food (as has already been said). For our body B consists of three dimensions: length, breadth, and depth. That which contains and binds it together is called the surface, from what it is to appear above, which the Greeks call [i]ἐπιφάνεια[/i] from the verb [i]ἐπιφαίνεσθαι[/i], as you might say "to appear on the surface." And let these things, spoken briefly, suffice; it remains, therefore, that we refer one by one to each part, what its temperament, action, and use is.
Cap. I. — Concerning the head.
Since, of the members that are in us, the head is the first, as it is considered the workshop of the senses, as well as the supreme, most eminent, and most noble, and most principal portion of the body, in which the principal part of the soul holds sway. For it is necessary to take the beginning from this, and explain its power, or rather to consider the prudence and wisdom of the Creator and our God, and to say these things: C "Great is our Lord, and great is his power, and of his understanding there is no number" (Ps. CXLVI, 5).
Come now, let us also embrace in our discourse the things which the admirable Basil asserts. For he says: "When God had placed the head upon the most eminent part of the body, it was necessary that very many excellent organs of sense be placed within it. For there the sight, hearing, taste, and smell come together in close proximity, and although they are contained within a short distance of space, not one of them stands in the way of the action of the one immediately next to it."
For the head, which is called [i]κεφαλὴ[/i] in Greek, is so named, as you might say, from being gifted with drying, since it is considered dry and osseous. D By some it is called a shell, because it protects and covers the brain. Others derive it from its convexity; for that which is curved and circular is called [i]κῦρον[/i]. Others still...
call it κάρα, as if "kera," from being hairy—for κέρας is hair—or κράτα from κράτος (power), because the ruling faculty resides therein; or κρανίον from κραίνειν (to rule) and reigning over the rest of the body; or because the brain is suspended there. A
The brain is white, soft, as if coagulated from some juice, moist, and cold. It is called *encephalon* because it is located (ἐγκεῖσθαι) in the head (κεφαλή) and the skull (κάρα), or as *engranos*, because it is peculiarly located in the cranium. It is entirely without blood or veins, and it finds more pleasure in warm conditions than in cold; in cold ones, it becomes moist and secretes mucus through the nostrils. For mucus is the purgation of the brain, by which the ruling part of the soul is lightened, for they say it is seated within it. Mucus is so named from being secreted through the nostril (μυκτήρ). The brain is also called *myelos* (marrow), as if *mychelos*, from being stored (αὐλίζεσθαι) in a recess (μυχός), or because it is smooth, or because it is situated in a hollow bone. The membranes covering it are called meninges, from the fact that the brain remains (μένειν) in them. B
The head has two shapes: the natural one and the pointed one, or *phoxon*. The natural one is very much like an elongated sphere, bulging more toward the front and the back. It has three sutures in all: the coronal, the lambdoid, and the longitudinal. The pattern of these three sutures is similar to the Greek letter K. In the pointed shape, which the Greeks call *phoxon*, the projection at the back is lost, and the lambdoid suture is lost with it; but the coronal suture at the front is preserved, so that the pattern of the remaining sutures is similar to the Greek letter T. These features are found in the male. The female, however, has one single suture that runs circularly and encompasses the skull; from this sign, the skulls of men and women are distinguished in tombs. C
Some of the Fathers have said that the three sutures of the male head denote the Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—by whom it was fashioned in unity of nature and will, and structured to look toward the things above. D
κατεσκευάσθη. A And the fact that the three sutures join again into one represents the substantial and natural unity and the one power of the single lordship. But the single circular suture on the head of the female symbolically signifies and demonstrates the encompassing and unifying sole lordship of the entire round universe, as well as the infinity of the one and godlike power. And just as in the intellectual nature of man three things are found in the constitution of each—I mean of both the male and the female: mind, word, and spirit—so too you might speak of his sensible nature.
For the front part of the head is called the forehead (*metōpon*), as if it were an "eye-front" (*hyperōpon*), that is, above the eyes, for they call the eyes *ōpa*. The part that extends a little bit upward from the forehead itself is called the *bregma*, because it is moist and soft in that place, as we showed above. The middle is the *koryphē* (crown), because it is the roof of the head. The back part is the *inion*, from the descent of the crown downwards, that is, starting from there are the fibers, or rather the nerves; and the nerves provide the body with existence and stability, because they are extended through the body; and such is that which says:
"For no longer have the flesh and bones fibers." B
The parts toward the membranes on either side are called the *krotaphoi* (temples), because they strike (*krouousi*) the touch when palpitating—like *kroutaphoi*—or because they touch the *korsis*; for *korsis* is the head, from being crowned (*koryphousthai*), or from being shorn (*keiresthai*), from which comes *korsōtēr*, he who shears the hair.
The entire bone surrounding the head is divided by intercalary sutures in the manner that has been described; by these, the double-layered bones surrounding the brain are separated, and the *paregkephalis*—which they also call the *parakranis*—which they say man alone among all animals possesses, so that he has one bone of the head apart from the sphenoid. In front is the forehead, in back is the *inion*; on either side are the two so-called lithoid (stony) bones. In the higher part are the two parietal bones, which have a common C suture in a straight longitudinal line. Of these six bones, those of the parietal region are the most porous and weakest. The densest and strongest part is the *inion*; between the two is the forehead; of the lithoid bones, one part is lithoid, while the other is porous bone. The *paregkephalis* is of the same nature and same color; another suture is the one passing over the *bregma*, and toward the scaled bones of those located...
near the ears, and ending there, it splits at the crown and forms the image of a cross. For through these sutures there is an open path for the exhalations that are carried upward from the stomach and belly to evaporate outside. B
The brain is enveloped by two membranes: the one is spread out under it, and the other lies upon it, which is also called the reticular web by physicians. Furthermore, all the bone is covered by what is called the *pericranium* muscle; and they call these muscles and membranes by their names.
And observe here the wisdom of the Creator: why did He protect the brain not by one membrane, but by two? And why do these have their own proper arrangement, being alternating? For the one is thick, and the other is thin. If He had not wrapped and constricted it within these, and as it were swaddled it, it would have been harmed by contact with the bone, which is rougher and harder. For this reason, He placed the thin membrane between the bone and the brain. But this very membrane is a little harder than the substance of the brain, yet softer than the bone; therefore, it too, in suffering something from external sources, was going to bring the brain into sympathy. For this reason, He made in the middle another, thicker membrane, which is much harder than the brain, but again softer than the bone. Thus the brain is held between the thin and thick membranes, the thin one being in contact with the brain, and the thick one with the bone, so that it suffers less from it. C The thin membrane envelops the brain not only as a whole, but also its inner parts. And by intervening throughout the whole, it holds together its substance, so that it does not slide and flow out because of its natural moisture. For just as we see that membranes also partition the seeds in pomegranates, and encompass the whole pomegranate, so too it is possible to see this in the case of the brain and the aforementioned membrane.
This can also be observed in what is called the skull; for it is a bone that imitates the position and need of a soldier’s helmet. For just as that is circular and protects the whole head, so also the skull, being itself circular, protects the brain. Whence it also received its very name. D Therefore, He did not construct this from a single bone, but from different bones, and not separated from one another,
but joined together, and as it were A founded upon a base. For if they consisted of one continuous bone, whenever the first part suffered any injury, because of the continuity of the bone, it is credible that the whole would be damaged. Furthermore, when the exhalations of the whole body are carried up to the head, as it is situated in the highest place, it would follow that they would not be dispersed. And as they are restricted, and the waste materials are deposited in the head, it would follow that the vapors would become the cause of very many diseases for the brain. For this reason, the bones were joined together, and the sutures were formed, as was said before, to expel the waste matter, and to keep the head with the brain free from harm.
The small head, therefore, is a sign of a brain of poor quality. For those who have small heads are not able to perform the same actions that those who have large ones do. For since the brain performs all the actions of the body—for it is the very thing that acts through the senses, as we have said above—it is the thing that moves all the parts of the body; for even if the tip of a toe is moved, the brain has moved it. It performs these things through the animal spirit, and evidently it needs a great deal of this; but it would not be able to contain such a large amount in a very small instrument. So it is necessary that, as the space of the head is small, the animal spirit should be stifled and extinguished, and with it the actions produced by it. However, while a small head is always poor, a large one is not always good; but sometimes it is excellent, and sometimes not excellent—I mean by nature, and not coming from disease. If, then, it grew large due to an abundance of excellent matter and the strength of the faculty peculiar to that place, such a state is right according to nature. But if, due to an abundance of base matter, it exceeded the measure of the small, then it will be poor and prone to disease, and that because of the brain; for the nature of the container was constructed C in accordance with what is contained. If it has exceeded the measure of the small due to an abundance of base matter, then it becomes base and liable to diseases. And these things, as we have asserted, were done for the sake of the brain; for it is established that the nature of that which contains was created for the sake of that which is contained.
And consider also the great care of the Creator, how D He made the brain secure by providing it with such fortifications. For He did not think it sufficient for its protection and safety that it be surrounded and encompassed by the membranes of which we spoke, and by the defense and covering of the so-called skull bone, but He also covered it externally with skin full of hair, so that it might not suffer harm from the changes of the air and be afflicted by pains; and so that the head might be covered by hair, it has been roofed over.
A Since he has caused it to have as many outlets as possible, so that the waste matter which accumulates might not become the cause of many ailments for it. B Just as, therefore, we observe in the stomach, and discern its operation from its waste matter—and if the evacuations are digested, we say that the stomach digests well; so too in the case of the brain, we recognize its operations from its waste matter; for besides the aforementioned sutures, it clears itself out through the nostrils, the ears, the eyes, and what is called the aperture, which some have named a "funnel" because of its resemblance to such a thing, which the Lord—the Creator of nature—fashioned. They call the aperture a "funnel" because, starting from a wider base, it ends in a narrower passage.
C Since there are also many muscles in the head and about the brain—or rather, throughout the whole body—let us state their operation and necessity, as when the bit is used by the charioteer in the chariot. For just as in that case there is the charioteer, and there are the reins, and after the reins the bit, which is hung from the reins and tied to the horses, and there are the horses themselves; so too it is with our own body: the brain acts as the charioteer, its nerves as the reins, its muscles as the bits, and the remaining parts as the horses. And the brain, using the reins first, either leads the body to the sides, or pulls it back, or allows it to move forward. The bit, following the reins, causes the parts to follow the one that moves them first, according to circumstance. Therefore, the muscles serve the brain in the capacity of a bit, while they perform the motive action.
D The so-called spinal marrow is a certain effluence of the brain, and it is depicted like a stream flowing forth from a source. The source, so to speak, bears a circular shape, while the stream flows extended in length. Since, therefore, this spinal marrow is a part of the brain, we perceive that it is enclosed by the bones of the spine. But it was necessary for nature to produce these vertebrae, as well as the marrow itself, and for this reason it possesses a certain natural communication with the bones; for it is certain that that which contains was created according to the nature of that which is contained.
Come now, let us observe how all the bones of the body possess their own proper and peculiar relationship to the vertebrae of the spine. For all the vertebrae cohere with the origin from the spine...
A; and it maintains the same proportion to our body as the keel of a ship does to the timbers attached to it. For just as all the timbers must necessarily be related to the keel, and if the keel is large, the timbers are large, and if small, the timbers are likewise small, so it is with the spine. Whatever state it is in, the ribs articulated to it, and the shoulder blades, will likewise be in that state; and attached to the shoulder blades are the arm, the forearm, the radius, and the bones in which the hand terminates. Then again, the bones of the hip, to which the thigh is articulated, are attached to the spine; and to the thigh are attached the shin and the fibula, and to these A the bones of the foot. Hence, motion is given to them by the agency of nerves and muscles from the brain, and these are moved according to the great counsel and providence of God. B
Muscles are so called from the Greek word *myein* (to close), because they close in their own operations; for when they contract and retreat to their proper principle, they move through this contraction the parts moved by them. Some say that they are muscle-like and terminate in thin points, so that the muscles have a resemblance to the tail of an animal. Indeed, the nerves derived their name from the fact that they "stretch" (neuein) toward themselves; and in the same way they also act upon the muscles—or rather, the muscles upon the nerves. Therefore, from "stretching" (neuein) comes *neuron* (nerve), and from "closing" (myein) come *myes* (muscles). The substance of muscles is not simple, but composite, made of fibers and fleshy substance. As for the fibers, some are from the nerves, others from the ligaments in which nature has woven the fleshy substance; this is done so that they may not be easily damaged, but may rest as if on a pad, and so that, when they become excessively dry during excessive movements, they may be moistened C and receive relief from the fleshy parts.
Some ask why the shape of the human head is spherical, and not rather square, or sharp-angled, or triangular, or elongated in the form of a cone. We reply to this with three reasons. The first is that such a shape is more impervious to assaults than other shapes. For whatever has angles more easily meets with obstacles from without, and is caught and broken by them. The second is because those who profess the science of measuring the earth (geometry) have demonstrated D that circular shapes are more capacious than all other shapes of equal perimeter, whether triangles, squares, or polygons. Therefore, Providence, knowing that the head must contain the brain, and the thick and thin membrane with it, and the reticular plexus, and the seven pairs of nerves, and the habitations of the senses—eyes, ears, nostrils, and the parts exterior to the mouth...
and other cavities, namely the cavities A which they call ventricles; and since the psychic spirit serves the psychic activities, it was reasonable that it should choose such a shape for the head. The third reason of Plato is nonsense in the Timaeus. For he says: "Since nature was to make a portion to serve as a dwelling for the soul and the mind, so that it might not be a stranger when descending from the circular heavenly sphere into a dissimilar dwelling, he fashioned for it a shape similar to that of the heaven." The philosopher said this while propounding the doctrine of the transmigration of souls, and that the soul dwells in the commanding part, and not—as he foolishly claims—in the whole body. But we say that the shape of the head is circular B not only for the sake of becomingness (for buildings shaped like a domed sphere are more striking than those built in length, and more pleasing to the sight), but also for the sake of the straight performance of the action of the mind. For it was necessary that the part placed at the summit of the whole body should be circular, and that the things of the origin should be recognized from there, so that the mind, like an excellent pilot sitting at the helm, might steer and preserve the whole body; having also the senses ready to hand, as the great Basil says: "There are sight, and hearing, and smell, and taste." And again: "For the eyes have occupied the highest watchtower, so that the position of the parts of the body might not C impede them at all; but, sitting above with a slight projection of the eyebrows, they extend from the height above straight forward." And let this suffice to have said regarding the head.
Chapter II. — Concerning the eyes.
Since it is permitted to us to be amazed at and to marvel at the wisdom of God the Creator in every one of our members, after the head let us see D the composition of the eyes, and their activities, and uses, and names, and the number of their tunics, and the quantity of the humors, and the things that essentially belong to the eye, and the things that are added to it by accident. Essentially, then, its temperament is cold or hot, dry or moist. And in its similar parts, it is soft or hard, mobile or difficult to move. In the whole instrument, we must consider if its size is excessive or moderate; if, when it is formed, there exists beauty or lack of beauty in the constitution of the eye; and furthermore, if its actions are directed correctly or incorrectly. And these things are distinguished as to whether they are hot or cold, in this way: For if there is heat A in them, such eyes have broad veins, and reveal them clearly; but if they are cold,
A their veins are not manifest, but hidden. We shall diagnose the dryness and moisture of the eyes from whether the eye is hard or arid, or soft and moist. And the moist and B soft eye is easily diagnosed; but the hard and arid one is not very much so. Therefore, it is not discerned by external examination. For we see many who are unable to remain in smoke, but shed many tears; and others who are very resistant to smoke. And the former are moist and sensitive; the latter are hard and insensitive. These are the essential signs of the eyes.
As for those that arise from accidental circumstances, they are as follows: The eye is either large or small, and either well-proportioned or ill-proportioned. But if it is large and well-proportioned, it indicates both a quantity of material and its good mixture. But if it be large but ill-proportioned, it signifies a quantity of material, but of a poor quality, and a weakness of power, as has been said concerning the head. But if it be small and well-proportioned, it signifies a lack of material, but good utility. But if it be small and ill-proportioned, it signifies both a lack of material and a weakness of power. These things concern the mixture, shape, and size of the eye.
On the different colors of the eyes.
Let us also inquire into the causes of the different colors seen in it. For we see some having black eyes, others blue-grey, and others tawny. C For it is not proper for us to be ignorant that the eye is called by many names and is composed of many parts, such as the humors and the tunics. And that we may describe their names, their number, their origins, their purposes, and their functions, let us begin from this point. D
It should be noted that two nerves extend from the brain, which are called "optic" by the Greeks because they serve for sight. For the brain first sends nerves to this sense, and afterwards to the whole body. But these differ from the other nerves in that the nerves in the whole body are solid and without cavities; but those of the eyes are tubular and perforated, so that they may conduct the visual spirit to the eye like conduits. It is therefore evident that these nerves enter into what are called the "chambers" of the eyes. For the "chamber" is called the innermost part of the eye, in which the tunics come together and the light itself dwells. For the term "chamber" (*thalamos*) is derived from *thalpein* (to warm); hence also young people remain in chambers. For it is fitting that those possessing bodies that are flourishing, and not those whose heat is extinguished, should come together in chambers, as Hesiod says: "Be there a timely chamber..."
A The nerves are divided into the chambers, just as if someone were to take papyrus, cut it into thin strips, and then weave it together again, making the tunic called the retiform, similar to a net—this being an instrument for catching fish. After this tunic there is a second tunic called the uvalis, because it resembles a grape berry in its shape. And just as in a grape we see that the parts inside are denser, while the parts outside appear smooth, so too one can see this in the uvalis. For this originates from the membrane that is called thin; and from the thick one comes the corneum, which is so named because it resembles horns in its color (for it is white) and because it resolves into fibers just as they do, and because it imitates their difference. The membrane called the calvalis B has a certain outgrowth or origin from a part of the thick membrane that emerges through the aforementioned sutures of the brain, the coronal and the lambdoid.
The use of the aforementioned tunics is as follows: The retiform is a support from within for the entire body of the eye; the calvalis is from the outside. Between these are the others: the corneum toward the calvalis on the outside, and the uvalis toward the retiform on the inside. The use of the uvalis is that it may come to be upon the very opening of the pupil, through which the visual light goes out. It also contributes in another way by warming the crystalline humor; therefore it has become thick inside and spongy, so that it might not injure the pupil, but also so that it might be able to receive more veins. C Then, since, being such as it is, it was going to hinder the visual spirit in going out, for this reason it is perforated on the outside, and it is dense, so as not to allow the spirit to be dissipated. Furthermore, it also provides relief regarding its color against the injuries arising from excessive separations and contractions, by being both black and white at the same time; for it is distinguished by those things that are excessively white, and it is contracted by those that are excessively black. By partaking of both colors, or either one, it brings the eye into symmetry and provides relief. D The corneum was created to compress and shut the mouth of the pupil, so that the humors might not flow out through it; but it was going to hinder the visual spirit as well in its exit; for this reason, it was especially necessary for the corneum to be made of a most transparent substance. And just as we see that on the inside of horn...
A lanterns, when the lamp is lit, they feel no impediment from the horn body and emit their own light outward, so too the cornea, being transparent, does not hinder the visual spirit from passing through. For this reason, the conjunctiva also does not cover the entire cornea, but by enclosing it in a circle and gripping it, it leaves a certain circular portion of it [open], so that through it [the eye] may shoot forth the visual spirit. That the cornea is also white by nature is evident from the fact that when it thickens it becomes white; for it thickens in cases of albugo; yet it appears black, not by its own nature, but because the uvea lying beneath it adulterates its color. There are, therefore, two that are white, namely the cornea and the conjunctiva; and two that are black: the retina and the uvea. Regarding the origin, number, utility, and names of these tunics, enough has been said.
Let us speak concerning the humors that are within them
; for we say that the humors of the eye are three in number. The first is the vitreous humor, which is situated in the middle of the visual passage, whence the fibers scattered about constitute the retina. This humor is called vitreous because it resembles glass both in color and in consistency. After that is what is called the crystalline humor; it receives its name from the fact that it resembles crystal. Crystal is water congealed by cold; and it C resembles this in both color and consistency. It contributes half, as though the vitreous humor were implanted with the crystalline. There is also a third humor in the eye, and it is called the oval, from its resemblance to the subtle and white part of an egg. The utility of the vitreous [humor] is twofold: for it is spread out beneath the crystalline and also provides it with nourishment. The oval [humor] moistens the crystalline, which is continuously dried by its activities; but it also serves as a defensive screen for it, so that it may not be injured by suddenly encountering the ambient air. This oval [humor] is subtle and airy, so that it does not hinder the visual spirit proceeding through the pupil. The crystalline humor is the most medial, being surrounded by the two [other] humors and the aforementioned tunics; and it is this which receives both the parts of the visual power and those things that operate first and encounter [it].Truly the visual spirit that is in the eyes is carried from the brain to the crystalline and fulfills a double function: first, to keep the eye full and to bestow upon it the proper size and create the greatest D distance, so that it might not...
A be united gradually and piece by piece with the ambient air, but rather that, as the visible spirit is ejaculated from the pupil, it might discern even from afar the forms and the uses of the objects of sensation; and that the eye might change these, and communicate them to the crystalline—and their color; and that the brain, as a king, might judge these things. Nevertheless, one must also know this: that those who have a small pupil from birth are sharper-sighted than those who have large ones, because the visual spirit, being ejaculated from it with force and not being scattered anywhere—which happens in the case of a large pupil—precisely grasps the objects of sensation, even those lying far away.
Let us see, then, how the black color and the gray B color and all the rest come to be. The gray color, then, is produced according to genus by two causes, but according to species by four. According to genus, it is due to the crystalline and the oval humor; but according to species, it is due to the oval humor in one way only, but to the crystalline in three ways; for the oval is either much or little, and either pure or turbid. If, therefore, there is much oval humor, it makes the eye gray, and the brilliance from it becomes slight because the crystalline humor and the pupil are set deep. This also happens in the case of a lake of water; for we cannot see the things in its depths; nor, indeed, if it should be turbid, is it fit for receiving any color whatsoever. For this is what turbid and muddy waters also do, not allowing the rays of light to pass through them clearly; so that to the extent that the eye is oval, to that extent it is gray; it needs, therefore, both smallness and purity for this. But the eye becomes gray because of the crystalline, because it is by nature bright and illuminates the whole eye; and sometimes the humor is not bright, yet it is great, and because of its size it again causes the same brilliance, and the eye becomes gray. Or the humor is neither great nor small, but it comes about that the position of the eyes is prominent, and for this reason the C eye is shown to be gray and prominent. If, therefore, all these things are present, the eye becomes gray; but if the opposites of these occur, it becomes black. If some are present and some are not, all the intermediate varieties of eyes are produced. The gray [eye] is most full of light compared to the black, because the thinner and whiter and more transparent substances, being the first to be filled by the influx of the sun's brilliance, distribute the light with which they are everywhere filled to the substances that come after them, in the likeness of the sun.
A Since, therefore, we have investigated the matters pertaining to the eyes and have set forth what is substantially inherent in them, and what is added by accident; and the origins of their coverings, their names, and their number; and how the reticular, the superior, and the uval membranes are filled with veins, while the corneal is devoid of veins; and we have clarified their functions; and the quantity, colors, and actions of the humors, and where the vitreous, the crystalline, and the oval ones are situated; and we have taught concerning the visual spirit, that it originates from the brain, and we have explained its cause, namely that it performs this double function: for although spirit is naturally contained in all parts of the body to meet its needs, B yet in the eyes, the brain itself provides it for the reasons stated. And because all these things were created to serve the entire organ—some created for the sake of moistening the eye, others for providing nourishment, some for safety, and others to protect the pupil itself—it truly behooves us, while admiring the admirable wisdom of God, to pray prudently with the Prophet: *Keep me, O Lord, as the apple of the eye.* For I believe the Prophet himself uttered this poem once he had observed that the eye is supported by such great and such a kind of protection.
Age now, let us discourse on the definition of the eyes, on how they are named, and from where their names derive. Such, I say, do we suppose eyes to be: those which are constituted of four membranes and three different humors, and which contain nerves within themselves, and are able to perceive the colors, magnitudes, and shapes placed before them. C Not only are they called "eyes" by the Greeks, but they have also been accustomed to call them by other names. Some call them, as it is with Homer; others call them *ommata* (eyes); others *osse*; others *opes*. And they are called *ophthalmoi* from the fact that they render all things visible to the sight, or because they are the chambers of vision; and *phae* (lights), because light proceeds from them, or because they are judges and recipients of light; and Homer [says]:
D *Upon his head and both his fair eyes he fixed kisses* (a).
*Ommata*, they say, because through them the visual spirit is impelled—as if *ata* and *ommata*—since through them the spirit which is in the eyes is released and ejaculated. The Aeolians have been accustomed to call the things around the eyes *opata* instead of *opas*. But Homer also mostly called them *osse*, because they are rightly directed toward the things subject to them. For they say *euein* and *euthybolein*, whence Homer:
(a) Od. II, 15.
A Illaque fulgentes oculos ceu flamma ferebat. And again: Sic oculos, sic ille manus, sic ora ferebat. The *opes* (eyes) are stated by others to be named from *ope* (a hole). For *ope* in its proper sense is called a bored location through which the faculty of looking at something is given to us, as in that phrase: Tu modo praevisam circumspice Numinis iram (d).
The pupil (*core*) of the eyes is also called *glene* and *ile*. It is called *core* (girl/pupil), as if *chare* (joy), because the visual spirit is poured forth through it. *Ile* is from *eilesis* (rolling/compression) and its downward motion. *Glene* is so called from the mind being *galenoumenon* (calmed); for the eyes are indicative of the state of the mind; or from *leussein*, which is to shine; and Homer calls the white parts of the eyes *glene*. The skin that grows upon it is called *logades* (whites of the eyes) by the poet; he says, "of the oblique [*loxon*], the *logades*." But Callimachus says, "No one with pure [eyes] is able to gaze at the *logades*." They are also called *dergmata* (glances); for the act of looking (*blepseis*) is derived from the things seen, and from the activity of *derkesthai* (to see), as though it passes through the thing seen.
Vision [*opsis*] differs from the act of seeing [*drasis*] in that vision is thought to be a kind of *orisis* (demarcation), or that which grasps the *oroi* (limits), that is, the edges of bodies; but sight [*opsis*] is a kind of *hapsis* (grasping) and a touching occurring through the understanding of visible things.
The skin that covers the eye is called the eyelid [*blepharon*] and the *tarsos* (wicker framework). B It is called *blepharon* because of its appearing in front, or because it is lifted up during the act of seeing; but it is called *tarsos* because it is without flesh, since even the dorsum of the foot is called *tarsos*; and Homer says, "Now, having grazed the *tarsos* of my foot, you pray..." C But the hair around them is called *blepharides* (eyelashes); for they not only provide adornment for the eyes, but also beat back and ward off dust and chaff and everything that happens to fall into the eyes from outside, and do not allow them to be troubled by anything.
The prominences above the eyes, in which the hairs stand in a row, are called *ophryes* (eyebrows), or *aporrhyes* (deflectors), from [their function of] guarding the eyes from rain and sweat (e). D There is also a question concerning them,
In these, however, there is a certain deficiency which is not at all observed in the hair, for hair grows daily and is clipped and cut back. But the Creator of all things has denied growth to these and to the eyelashes, so that they might not obstruct or hinder the eyes, a thing which is accustomed to happen to those worn out by extreme old age.
There is also in the eyes themselves, just as with colors, so too a great difference in size. But since we have said enough about colors, it remains that we discuss sizes. There are some that exceed A mediocrity in size, and others that are smaller than is expedient. But those that hold a kind of middle ground between the extremes, we consider entirely the best. Moreover, nature has driven some inwards, and these indicate a greater circumference than their actual recesses; others appear to thrust forward, as if leaping from their place. But others, which incline toward neither of these, one might see to have a kind of middle state: for such eyes signify excellent character in those in whom they are seen. For it is the opinion of all that men who possess eyes retracted inward have sharper vision. But those endowed with large eyes, and those who remain fixed with an intent gaze, they have called unstable and prone to anger. And it has pleased some to call the large-eyed *lerophthalmous* (rheumy-eyed), because they fix themselves overly much on things in perceiving, or because they see too much; since the pupils of these are steady, as if raised up impudently.
The muscles, from which movement is supplied to the eyes, are six in number, two of which perform the rotation of the whole eye, starting from the large corner and ending at the small one. The other four serve its straight movement; of which two are such that one extends it upward, and the other draws the eye down; others, just as many, move it to the right and left. To these, there is also a seventh, which nature produced for the sake of strengthening the eye, so that it might suffice for its use when we have need to examine some small body more accurately with our vision.
Vision is the action which occurs through the office of the eyes, to which a very subtle spirit is mixed and resides in the pupils, through which even things placed at a distance are detected: for unless light existed in the eyes, the light which is outside could in no way be perceived by us. For it grants the faculty to the sight to comprehend this solar light, and it is first perceived by the sight itself, and the airy light diffused around visible objects arouses the eyes to detect the sensible things themselves. That which it gives, however—as the Theologian has asserted—it receives.
For philosophers, investigating the action of vision, have brought forth many things. Those who have followed the opinion of Epicurus say that images of the things C that appear fall upon our eyes and create vision. But Aristotle [says] not an image...
but the quality of the surrounding air, altered and passing from the visible objects to the sight. Plato, in agreement with Galen, says that the air surrounding us becomes the instrument for the eye, during the time we see, just as the nerve is for the brain. A For the radiance of the sun, touching the upper limit of the air, distributes the power of light into the whole; and the radiance carried through the optic nerves has, on the one hand, a spiritual substance, but falling into the surrounding medium and producing alteration in the first impact, it spreads it as far as possible, retaining itself until it falls upon an impenetrable body. The faculty of sight sees in straight lines and is naturally capable of penetrating even to the depths of transparent bodies: first and foremost through air, for it passes through it entirely; second, through still and clear water; and less so through glass and other illuminated objects. These are the things peculiar to the sense of sight. Likewise, color is also peculiar to this sense—for instance, gray or red; for [the eye] perceives colors primarily, and along with them it discerns the colored body, its size and shape, the place where it is, its distance, its number, motion, B and rest; and what is rough and smooth, and even and uneven, and sharp and blunt; and its state, whether it is aqueous or earthy. For it is through the sense of sight alone that we perceive colors. But other things are common to both touch and sight, as is the case for fire; for when we see fire, we know that it is hot. But if you were to carry the reasoning back to the first moment of vision, you would find that, at the time when the sight looked upon the fire, it had knowledge only of its color and shape. But when touch intervened, we recognized that fire is hot and burning. Sometimes the sight needs the testimony of other senses so as not to be deceived, but sometimes it displays the appearance clearly by itself. Therefore, when it sees a square tower as round from a distance, or larger animals or structures as small, it is deceived. Similarly when it sees through agitated water; for it sees the oar as broken in the sea. C In the same way also when [it sees] through some material, as in the case of mirrors and other transparent objects, and when the object being seen is moved quickly. For rapid motion confuses the sight, as in the neck of a dove. But the sight especially requires four things for clear diagnosis: a healthy sensory organ, steady motion, clear air as a distance, and bright light. And so much for the eyes. D Moreover it sometimes happens to the sight, so that it may err less, to use other senses as witnesses; when, however, it perceives the things that appear by itself without the aid of others, it is deceived. Thus, a square tower placed at a distance from the sight greater than is appropriate appears round, and larger animals and structures of any kind appear smaller; but it is deceived. And indeed, at that time the sight is also wont to be deceived, when an oar appears broken in the sea due to the movement of the water. To this, through the cause of some material, as from the inspection of mirrors and other transparent bodies which are clearly translucent, the sight is deceived. Then also, when that which is seen is borne with a rapid and very swift motion: for such a motion, as in the neck of a dove...
velocity is produced, it perturbs the sight. However, in order for sight itself to be able to grasp things in act, four things are especially required. First, that the sensory organ itself be immune from every stain; next, that the movement be moderately tempered; then, that the distance of the place not be excessive, and the air be pure; furthermore, that a light which is very bright may appear clear. And let this suffice to have said concerning the eyes.
Cap. III. — On the nose and the nasal proboscis.
A The nostrils, by which the sense of smell occurs, are called in Greek *rhines* (ῥῖνες) and *mykteres* (μυκτῆρες). They are called *rhines* from the verb *rhein* (ῥεῖν), which signifies to flow, because the moisture originating from the brain flows down through them. They are called *mykteres*, either from *mykterizein* (μυκτηρίζειν), which for us signifies to mock, because we deem those whom we are accustomed to deride as worthy of mucus; or because discharge—that is, mucus—issues through them; or from the fact that they have certain pores or passages. They are B nervous and cartilaginous, receptive of odors and the differences between them—that is, between fragrance and foulness. Through them we breathe out and inhale, for it is not possible for these things to be done otherwise than through the nostrils; for the nostrils receive the breath sent up from the storehouses and the chambers of the heart through the lungs, and they expel it to the outside; and, drawing in the inhaled air, they transmit it from without to the inside.
Smell is a certain impulse of natural action, which is perfected by the moist and vaporous spirit present in the nostrils, by which the perception of fragrant things occurs even from afar. And indeed, since the nasal proboscis is divided in two and is empty on both sides, it is divided by the interstice of a central cartilage, which serves the reciprocation of breath, as we have asserted, through which this breath enters and exits without impediment, C unless it happens that the nostrils themselves are rendered blocked by some illness; for if such an affection should happen because of an illness, the respiration of air is not intercepted. But the nostrils cannot perceive the odors themselves, as they are thicker than the air; and this is how the constitution of smell is formed in the way we have described. For it terminates where the front cavities of the brain are, reaching as far as the bones which narrow in the manner of an isthmus. For the nose does not, like other sensory organs, perceive its actions to the brain by the office of a nerve; but it itself receives sensation through certain perforations. The upper part of the nose, however, coheres with the forehead by a continuous bone divided in two; but the lower part is a cartilage, which is also called the wing.
Cap. IV. — On the large and small angles of the eyes.
D Near the eye itself, on both sides, are the large and small angles of the eyes, of which those that are situated internally are called large, but those that are on the outside are called small. For these angles are called in Greek something that you might interpret as "feeling an itch," since most of the time, due to the efflux of tears or other things in them—
and some are round, some flat, some sharp; A others are large, others small. These, more than other parts, render the human face either fair or deformed.
Chapter V. — Concerning the Cheeks.
The cheeks are also called "malae" (apples); they are convex bones, grown together with the temples. In this part of the bones, all the teeth except those assigned to the office of cutting are seen as if inserted into a ceiling. They are called B *malae* for the reason that they exhibit a certain smoothness and slickness, just as fruits do; by some they are named thus because of the redness of the apple. For these represent the good color of the body and the health of the innate heat that is in us. This part is also called the "maxillae" (jaws), which are so called by them [the Greeks] because they are shaken, that is, they are jolted by their movement; or because we collect in them the things that are eaten, which they call *synagein*. Or because when we keep them closed, we keep silent, which they call *sigan*.
Chapter VI. — Concerning the Upper and Lower Jaw.
Furthermore, this same part, with the upper lip, is called the upper jaw, and the lower, with the beard and chin, is termed the lower jaw. C And whereas every animal moves the lower [jaw], with the exception of the crocodile and the bird called the phoenix, in which the upper [jaw] is the only one that moves, and not the lower. We think it is called *gena* (jaw) for the reason that through it the kinds (genera) of male and female, and of those who are of perfect and imperfect age, are distinguished; or because teeth and hair are produced in it.
Chapter VII. — Concerning the Ears.
Nature created the ears cartilaginous and sinewy, whose office it is to comprehend voices and the differences between them; for cartilage is held to be fit and suitable for perceiving noises and sounds. For the ears themselves, which in Greek are called *ōta*, are thought to have taken their name D from receiving the *opa* (voice), which they call a sound. For hearing occurs because of the spirit hidden in the ears, which is more dry than subtle.
Indeed, the ears are internally round, and it is established that they are endowed with a bone of like shape at their extremity, into which, as into a hollow vessel, the noise of any voice enters. And because this bone contains no passage tending toward the brain, nature applied it to the palate of the mouth, from which the noise is carried to the brain by the ministry of one vein that extends to it. From that place, indeed, our mind perceives and judges the accounts of audible things, both of sharp and harsh voices, and of pleasant and unpleasant ones, and also of those that are rattling and poorly modulated; and thus through the audible sense, nature
A receives [the sensation of] sounds in the air, B so that the voice passes through without hindrance, or rather C echoes, being curved within the cavities; and nothing from those things that fall in from outside can be an obstacle to the sense.
The hollow of the ear is called the beehive A, because of its being arched and shell-like, and like to vessels; and it is itself like a cymbal, intended by design to be an ornament to the head, so that, by not being entirely circular, it may appear not only not displeasing, but also not mutilated or shorn. The dirt that arises in the ear is named "kypselis," consisting of the exhalation of yellow bile; and the termination of the ear is fleshy, and not cartilage; it is called a lobe B, from "lobi," meaning "lobos"; for these are cut off on account of wickedness, as Homer says:
*Whose nose and ears are cut off by shameful punishment.* (g)
The ears are divided into thin, deep, and middle-sized; and those that partake of the middle measure are considered best for hearing. No trait of character is indicated by these, except in the case of those that are very small or very large, or those that are excessively prominent or entirely sunken. C However, those that are large and prominent are said to be an indication of silliness and talkativeness. Some have also characterized those who possess them as being long-lived. Man alone, along with the ape, does not move his ears, while all other animals that have ears move them. D
The parts below the ear are called jaws and bridles. Jaws, on account of the bending and twisting of D the bones; for from "kampto" (to bend) comes "gnampsai" (to bend). And Homer: *Hera, beseeching, bent all of them* (h). They are called bridles because, through them, "chainein" (yawning or opening) occurs; and some say that there are certain bridles, for by opening them wide, we perform the perception of the things brought in.
The parts covering the mouth are called lips, from "kleio" (to shut); as it were, "cheile," the gates that house and close the mouth and the teeth; or from the fact that through them we receive "chylon," for "chylos" means food. They consist of soft flesh and veins, having four muscles, through which the movement of the speech is supplied to them. Their substance is composed of three things; for the creative nature, having taken a certain skin-like, porous, and muscular nature, and having mixed all [these] through all, and having made one temperament from them,
A the body of the lips. For this reason, since we cannot fill the gap when their continuity is broken, we are accustomed to use sutures, drawing them together with our hands and thus causing them to grow back together. The hairs that adhere above the upper lips from the nostrils are called *mystax* or *mestax* from the fact that they are "filled" (mastusthai) with hair; and the common folk call them *moustaka* or *moustakion*.
Chapter VIII. — On the Beard.
The beard (*pōgōn*) is also called *hypēnē*. It is called *pōgōn* because it denotes the stability of age in those beginning to grow down (*iouloi*). *Hypēnē*, however, refers to the hairs beneath the chin, so called from the fact that they are "under" (*hypo*) and situated beneath the chin. The *iouloi* are the hairs that first sprout thickly in a straight line along the cheeks; they are so named after the *ioulos*, an animal with many feet, which men call a centipede; or alternatively, because time leads those who sprout *iouloi* to speak, for those who are bearded are sufficiently mature to say what is fitting. BChapter IX. — On the Face.
In sum, some call this whole part, that is, the cheek and the face, *prosōpon*, because it bears the look (*ops*) in front, not from the side; and for this reason, it is predicated only of humans. For it is not permitted to speak of the *prosōpon* of other animals. The *pareia* (cheek) is so called because it is "ended" (*peperatousthai*); it does not signify a chance part of the face, whether above, below, or on the sides, but C by synecdoche the whole face. For Homer says: Cui pallor totam faciem comprehenderat ingenti, by which words the poet means that the whole face is changed, not merely a part, as if the natural color had departed into a pallor contrary to nature. For such pallor in humans does not proceed from the legitimate functioning of nature, but from fear or weakness. Furthermore, the face itself is that which easily represents the affections of the soul. When the soul itself is gladdened, the face appears serene and cheerful; but when it is sorrowful, it bears signs of mourning and distress. D Indeed, when it burns with anger, the face becomes livid and suffused with blood, and appears dull and furious. For this reason, it is written in the sacred Scriptures that the manners of the soul are expressed by the body and the face itself, where it says: "By a joyful heart the face is made glad; when it is sad, it is cast down, and a man obsessed by anger is unsightly."A Those, however, who have observed the disposition of the face with greater accuracy, judge the character of men not only from the face and the eyes themselves, but also from the shape of the forehead and the nose. For they believe that those endowed with a broad forehead are sluggish and dull of mind, but those with a small and modest one are quick in perception and most prompt in speech. A forehead that stretches out into a wider shape is posited as a symbol of those who are ecstatic; one that is rounded or circular indicates a faint-hearted and irascible nature. Brows that lie in a straight line adorn men with upright, gentle, and pious characters; those that are curved and lean toward the nose, and are called arched, denote a sour, grim, and formidable nature; while those that lean more toward the temples signify men who are dissemblers and mockers.
The eyes themselves, however, are clear checkers and heralds of the hidden things of the soul. For from these you will recognize the fearful, the brave, the lover, the envious, the hot-tempered, the sleepy, the wakeful, the avaricious, the simple, and the upright. In a word, the shifting of the face is the most evident proof of B every state and transformation of the mind. For this reason, God has mercifully provided you with clear signs and symbols for the hidden states and concealed habits of men, so that, taking thought for your own salvation, you might associate with the upright and the diligent, and flee from the base and the wicked. For Wisdom, teaching this, cries out: "Do not dwell with an irascible man, nor eat with an envious one; do not go into the counsel of the ungodly and of vanity; nor sit in the seat of the pestilent. If they call you: Come with us, do not go with them." C For it was through his face that Jacob recognized Laban’s envy, and he said to his own wives: "I see the face of your father, that it is not as it was yesterday and the day before." The Prophet, knowing this, also says: "Turn not your face away from me, and look upon me, and have mercy on me." For he who hates is accustomed to turn away his face, whereas he who loves and is bound by benevolence is accustomed to show a joyful and cheerful aspect, and to smile. Some have also characterized those who have set-apart teeth as having a shorter life, and those with crowded teeth as having a longer one. Let this be enough, then, concerning the signs of the face; it remains for us to discuss the nature, composition, and actions of the other parts. D
Chapter X. On the mouth
A The mouth is like a kind of cutting instrument, for it is made to cut what is taken into it. Within it are found: the tongue, teeth, gums, the sockets, the uvula, the palate, the tonsils, the throat, the trachea, the end of the esophagus, and the epiglottis; the entire tract of the mouth is called the pharynx and gullet. The tongue, therefore, is vascular and fleshy, somewhat fatty, and sensitive to flavors. It assists in drinking and chewing, and in the articulation of the voice. For the tongue and teeth work together in the mouth: the former cuts the food, while the latter grind it, and the tongue conveys it to the teeth that cut or grind.
B The Creator made the tongue for many reasons, or rather, for many uses and operations. It is by means of it that swallowing takes place, as it bends back to convey food to the esophagus. Dialects also are formed by it, by its being folded by some of the teeth, or curved; and by being moved about, and applied now to one of the teeth and now to another, by this varied movement, and by the combination of letters and syllables, it accomplishes the differentiation of speech. And it performs these things as being free. But it is also bound to the larynx, so that it may not fall from the mouth and become useless for the aforementioned operations.
C This bond serves as a bridle for it, which, if it is set in proper order, directs all of its operations to the best end and with good order. But if it happens that this part is too loose and slack, the tongue inclines more than is right. Because the capacity to govern it via this bridle is intercepted, the operations we have mentioned are easily impaired. If, on the other hand, the bridle constrains it too much, these harms follow: it becomes a burden to the lips, to the part that moves while we pronounce words, and to the teeth and the entire mouth, and it performs its own offices poorly, with vitiated speech.
D The flesh of the tongue is naturally porous and spongy; and for this reason it perceives the taste of flavors more quickly. The qualities of flavors which are gustatory are these: sweetness, acidity, sharpness, acridity, tartness, bitterness, saltiness, and fattiness. The tongue is diagnostic of these, and especially its tip, for it is the organ of taste. With it also works the palate, in which the spread-out nerves carried from the brain report the perception of flavored things to the ruling part of the soul. Consider, then, the tongue...
A its nature, as the divine Basil says, how it is soft and flexible, and sufficient for every need of speech by the variety of its movement. It exists also as broad, narrow, or moderate in size. For the broad tongue, filling the mouth, makes the beginning of speech and inarticulate sounds; the narrow and small one, not managing to press against the teeth, renders speech poor; but the one that is moderate in size is free from these ailments, and is best.
Now, the epiglottis B is the part of this that is above, and it has attached to it what is called the esophagus. And when, having chewed and softened the food, we send it inward, the epiglottis covers the windpipe and prevents it from acting; upon which it comes to pass—as the windpipe is not being moved by the spirit within—that the lung also immediately stands still; because when it emits breath, the succession of the breath itself is carried to the hollow parts of the lung. For it is certain that the lung itself has cartilaginous divisions that tend in a sharp and gathered-up way; through these the breath enters into its holes, and from there it returns again into the heart. C But when the windpipe is covered over by the epiglottis, as has been said, the food is sent down into the stomach. It is called both *alteria* and *arteria*; the *arteria*, as it were, an "air-pipe," from containing and keeping the spirit; the *alteria* from "leaping," because it is always moving and leaping.
The tongue is called *glossa* from *klothô* (to revolve), for while it is being revolved, the formation of articulate voice is made. Or it is called *glossa* for *gnôssa* (to know), because it is diagnostic of the properties in juices, as has already been said. However, sight, smell, and hearing perceive their own sensible objects from afar and from every direction; for example, sight sees even from a distance, and smell smells, and hearing listens; but touch and taste only perceive when they approach their proper sensible objects. So then, the utilities and functions of the tongue have been stated—that the power, which provides for all things, has granted to it fitness for voice, dialect, taste, and chewing; let us now look at the composition of the teeth, D their nature, and their function.
Teeth are they which fulfill the duty of cutting and finishing the food, and they are also accommodated to the office of articulating the voice; for some cut the food,
A while others grind it; the latter are called "grinders" or "molars," being so named from *edō* (to eat). They are thirty-two in number, with sixteen in each jaw. There are four in front, which are called "cutters" (incisors), and they have a single root; on either side of these are two more, called "canines," which also have a single root. Next to these are the grinders, five on each side; those in the upper jaw have three roots, while those in the lower jaw have two. Sometimes grinders with four roots are found. They are called "grinders" B because of the curvature, for the jaws that contain them are curved. Teeth differ from other bones in their capacity for sensation; for they possess a sensitive faculty due to the sensory nerves that extend into the sockets in which they are rooted; thus they feel when they encounter things that are excessively cold or hot. They also distinguish the quality of foods through the membrane that coats the stomach and esophagus, which lubricates not only the tongue but also the teeth; this membrane also arouses in them the numbness of toothache. Furthermore, the teeth are bare, whereas other bones are not, for all other bones are covered with muscles and skin. They also differ in that they fall out and grow again, not only in the earliest stages of life, but also in later ones; this has been observed even in the elderly. Some teeth are sparse, others dense; some large, others small; some are shell-shaped, while others are set in a straight row; this is observed not only in humans, but also in other animals. Indeed, Aristotle calls some animals "double-toothed" (having teeth on both sides), such as man, the horse, the donkey, and the elephant; others "saw-toothed," such as the lion, wolf, bear, and leopard; others "continuous-toothed," such as the sheep, ox, goat, and deer; while others are "tusked," such as the pig, the mole, and those whose teeth protrude outwards. Some have called the "grinders" "wisdom teeth," because they grow at the time when children begin to exercise judgment (prudence).
The flesh that holds them is called the "gum" (οὖλον), because of its tenderness and softness. It is so called either because it holds them in the manner of nails (clavi) in order to secure the teeth, or C because it has a "scar" (οὐλή), which forms at the breaking through of the teeth as they grow and heal. For a scar is a healed wound; hence the saying, "Hail, be healthy! (Οὖλε, ὑγίαινε), and be well and greatly rejoice." "Curly" (οὖλαι) hair is also so called from shrinking or curling (εἰλεῖσθαι), and barley grains are called "scarred" (οὐλαί) D.
A Whole grains (ὁλόκληροι) are termed *oulochytæ*. B And "ruinous" (οὖλος) comes from *olluō* (to destroy). "May he perish" (Ὄλλοιτο κεῖνος) from among men. Some call the gums and sockets *oula* from *olluō*, or *phatnia* (mangers) from *phagein* (to eat), for *phagnē* and *phatnē* derive from eating. Or they come from *patō* (to tread), signifying *esthiō* (to eat)—whence *patasthai* is used for tasting and eating—or as Callimachus says, "Tread the poppy." It also comes from *kapē* (manger), derived from *kaptein*, which is to eat; for Aristophanes says in *The Knights*, "And I will devour (κατακάψω) the feast." Or it comes from *kapos*, which is breath, as in "He breathed out his soul," meaning the exhalation of breath from the horse's panting; or it is named from being hollowed out.
Gurgalio, indeed, is called in Greek *gargareōn* by physicians, and *staphylē* (uvula), and *chionis*. It is called *gargareōn* on account of the sound made during gargling, as if the word were factitious from the sound; *staphylē*, from the constant dripping, or from its tip appearing like a grape; B and *chionis* [or *kionis*], either because of the flow of humors, or because it has the appearance of a column, being long by itself. It is a small piece of flesh hanging from the pharynx, a nivosity [glandular organ], an instrument of the voice that articulates the effect of the breath. C The *ouraniskos* (palate) is the upper part of the mouth, taking its name from its similarity to the *ouranos* (heaven); the parts near it are called *hyperōa*. The term *hyperōa* is transferred from the upper stories of houses and those things elevated "above the ground" (*era*), which is the earth. Homer also says, "He wetted his lips, but he did not wet his palate (hyperōē)."
This part is also called *pharynx*, from *pherō* (to carry), through which the breath is carried; it is a paronymous term, for Lycophron says "bared the pharynx" (ἐτύμβευσε φάρυγγα). And Callimachus says, "They bear nothing," speaking of the pharynx that carries nothing.
The mentum and throat we Greeks call *anthereōn*, and *larynx*, and *pharynx*. In this part is the ligula, which they call *epiglōttis*, about which we spoke before. In it also there is a small piece of flesh, which responds to the shape of an ivy leaf; D situated in the middle of the trachea, when we swallow food, it does not allow the solids and liquids to enter into it; but when it opens, it acts for the sake of the reciprocation of the breath. Therefore it is called *anthereōn* from *thorein* (to leap), as if *anthereōn*, because food is placed in it...
A to swallow. Yet the gullet (*laimos*) and the larynx (*larynx*) differ only in name; for both are derived from *laiein* or *lauein*, which means to enjoy (*apolauein*), since by means of the gullet and the larynx we have the enjoyment of food; for *laiman* is said by some to mean to exist in a state of enjoyment.
The artery that lies underneath the larynx is called "rough" (*tracheia*), originating from the lung as a passage for it. It has received this name, to be called "rough," because it is composed of different substances—I mean cartilaginous and membranous ones. For the Artificer of nature, knowing that it was going to perform different duties for both breathing and the voice, crafted it out of a cartilaginous and membranous substance, mostly for the sake of the voice. For it was necessary for the voice to strike against some solid body and not a soft one; for otherwise it would have been dim. B Again, if it consisted of cartilage alone, it would not have been able to be dilated further during loud voices, and to last during respiration. And for this reason, He has placed membranes between the cartilages; so that the cartilages might exist for the sake of the voice, but the membranes for the sake of breathing.
This artery is indeed rough on the outside, but not on the inside; for a smooth membrane lines its entire passage, so that the material of the voice—which is breath—might not become rough by striking against anything.
The esophagus (*oisophagos*) is placed near this; it is also a passage for the stomach, carrying food into it. It is so named from *oiō* (to carry). It is also itself fibrous and, as it were, intestinal. The *paristhmia* (tonsils) are fleshy, muscular, and fibrous parts of the pharynx; they are so called because of the narrowness of the place in which they are, and because they lie beside the isthmus; for the isthmus is the narrow place through which the breath passes C. For the space between the esophagus and the trachea is called the isthmus, from the fact that food and drink pass through it. Whence they are also called *paristhmia* and *antiades* (tonsils), because they stand against each other. Some also call them *branchia*; for from them also the affliction called hoarseness (*branchia*) arises. For all liquid is carried from the pharynx, larynx, and *branchia*; and the *branchia* are fleshy, muscular, bodies. For the whole area of the mouth is called the pharynx and larynx; the inner part is the larynx, and the outer part is the pharynx, and what is called *paristhmia* and *antiades* D signifies the enjoyment thereof.
is called the pharynx and larynx; the inner part is the larynx, and the outer part is the pharynx, and what is called *paristhmia* and *antiades* signifies the enjoyment thereof. A
Chapter XI. Concerning the Voice.
The instruments, moreover, which serve the voice are considered to be these: the gurgulio (uvula), the throat, the aspera arteria (trachea); the lung, the chest, and the nerves which are moved by a reciprocal motion. Those, however, which are adapted for the use of words and idioms are: the tongue, teeth, lips, nose, palate, and the gurgulio; for to this use the gurgulio is also accommodated here. For by this arrangement, the voice itself is naturally suited to be formed. After the spirit has been expelled from the vessels by which it is received, whenever the impulse of the speaker intends to produce a voice, the strength [of the air], striking against the internal parts that are placed before it, which circularly surround the tubular passage, imitates in a way the voice produced through a flute, as it is whirled around the membranous prominences. The palate B receives the sound coming from within, and by means of double pipes in the very vacuum extending toward the nostrils, and by cutting off the voice itself with the cartilages existing in the narrow corners, which resemble the shape of scales, it becomes the cause of a more vehement sound. But the cheeks, the tongue, and the parts of which the fauces of the throat are composed, under which the chin is situated, when they become hollow, make the voice more remiss and inclined; but by their extension and more acute motion, just as is customary with the cords of a lyre under a plectrum, it is intensified; and this is the cause why the voice is carried in a varied and multiform manner, and why musical tones are congruously directed to necessary uses. Moreover, this is performed by the dilation and compression of the lips, in a way similar to C how a flute is handled with the fingers. For, according to the rhythm of the melody, they compress and release the breath (if indeed, musical flutes and lyres, possessing I know not what in common with the human instrument, resonate together in a kind of concert), and thus, indeed, as we have shown, the constitution of the voice is made. For when the spirit—the material—is carried from the lung through the aspera arteria, which suffices for such a ministry, while the air is drawn through it as if through a siphon, it produces a similar sound, extended within it. For the voice is nothing other than the percussion of air, or air that has been struck, which illuminates the thoughts of the mind with speech. What the lips, the nostrils, and the throat are, we have already discussed sufficiently.
The gurgulio, however, which many call the staphyly, that is, the uvula, not only possesses the faculty of fashioning the emitted spirit D into this or that mode while it touches it as if with a plectrum, but it is also contained within the aspera arteria and the whole space of the throat, and it employs another function of its office which is not ordinary for the sake of the immoderate changes of the air. For when the air is pressed by immoderate heat or cold, the gurgulio immediately presents itself to it, and goes to meet it, and brings that excess into a temperate state, and thus drives the spirit into the artery, which the lung and the heart claim for their own uses through its ministry. For the gurgulio not only tempers the cold and heat of the air as it approaches it, but also...
and reduces excess to a moderate temperature, but also cleanses it from smoky and dusty emissions as it grows thick, and brings it back to a thinner nature; it is like an isthmus for the instruments. Such are the names, uses, and actions of the vocal organs.
A Impediments to the voice (an affliction by which some are distressed) generally occur in this manner. For when the membranes that proceed from the chest and extend to the spine have blocked the breast, so that two ventricles come to be in the chest, the lung is observed to be situated between them. Consequently, these two ventricles are so separated from one another that they cannot shift from the right to the left, nor from the left to the right. It happens, therefore, that from cold or heat, a certain humor flows into the aforementioned ventricles and blocks them; and from this, the loss of voice ensues. If, then, one B of the ventricles suffers, a partial loss of voice follows. But if both do, a complete loss of voice occurs. And as for the voice, this consideration is sufficient.
Chapter XII. On respiration.
It remains for us to see how respiration occurs, what the active part is, and how it appears at times great, sometimes small, or in a moderate state. It must be known that the natural and unforced breath is produced by what is called the diaphragm. Now the diaphragm is C a membrane encompassing all the vital organs; it separates the nutritive parts from the respiratory parts. If the respiration is intense, then the intercostal muscles also act. And just as when we walk quietly the diaphragm acts for natural respiration, so in walking intensely, it acts for intense respiration. Since the diaphragm alone is not sufficient to fulfill the need, the intercostal muscles act as well, as in the case of those who walk quickly. If, however, the respiration is even more intense and D strained, because at that time the diaphragm and the intercostal muscles are not enough to fulfill the need, then the muscles called the upper ones also act, as in the case of those running and exercising intensely.
Respiration is the most important of the body’s functions, or rather of the soul’s. For it has been shown previously that all parts moved by muscles and nerves receive their power to act from the soul and are therefore functions of the soul. Respiration is the most important, since it gives life and restores heat; and when it is in a healthy state,
and restores it. And when it is healthy and strong, it contributes much to the preservation of the life of animals in safety; but when it suffers injury, the animals themselves are damaged and perish in a strange way. It is necessary, therefore, to seek the causes producing respiration: the efficient, the material, the instrumental, and the final. And the efficient cause of respiration is the faculty of the soul, which moves the muscles of the body; the material [cause] is the breath itself which is inhaled and exhaled; the final [cause] is the necessity, and this is twofold: through inhalation, it introduces pure air and vivifies the innate heat; through exhalation, it expels the smoky excrements. B There is also a need for the nourishment of the animal spirit, which occurs solely through respiration; for the heart, by its own expansion, draws in a certain portion of air, and provides nourishment to the animal spirit, whose seat is within the heart itself, and preserves it for the use of natural heat as if stored in a repository. The instrumental causes of respiration are the transverse septum, the muscles between the ribs, and those which are called excelci; when there is any disorder in part of these, a difficulty of breathing follows. What the difficulty of breathing is, and how it is produced, and how many are its distinctions, it is not relevant to explain at present. But let us embark upon a discussion regarding the chest, and regarding the advantages and benefits that proceed to us from it.
Chapter XIII. De pectore.
CThe chest D is called among the Greeks *stēthos*, *sternon*, and *thōrax*, although some distinguish these terms. For they say *sternon*, because of its solidity, as if explaining it to be solid; and *stēthos*, because it stands immovable, or because that which holds dominion in us is placed there, whence it happens that when someone desires to harm another, he ponders it in his chest, which they thus express: "Does he intend to strike you?"—that is, he thinks in his chest of doing you injustice or injury, as also in Homer: "Having struck his chest, he rebuked his heart with words." Or it is so called because through the chest, or near it, food is propelled into the stomach, as *sitiōthos*. But *thōrax* [is so called] as it were a boundary and guardian of heat, or of the *orousa*—that is, the leaping heart—or of the divine and governing faculty of the soul, the irascible [faculty]; thus *theiōrax*. Or, from the fact that all things are moved through the containing space by the heart, which is the governing principle—thus *theōrax*. The *thōrax*, therefore, is the place receptive of nourishment, so that we say a man who is filled with wine is "thorized" (*thōrixasthai*); and Hippocrates says, "Drunkenness releases hunger," speaking of over-drinking; as also Pindar elsewhere in his Dithyramb: "Sometimes, drunken with wine, he falsely accused his wife."
The thorax A is also a type of armor, named after that which is contained and that which contains; just as they are accustomed to call a helmet A that which surrounds the head.
The thorax is a part filled with nerves, muscles, and arteries, which the Creator fashioned as an instrument for the reciprocation of breath. It is connected with the shoulder blades, the collarbones, and the ribs. At the end of it, below the breasts, the cartilage called "ensiform" (sword-shaped) is joined to it in the middle. In it, the diaphragm also girds the body, separating the viscera that are below the thorax from those that are above the thorax—that is, the respiratory and nutritive parts.
The thorax is, therefore, the dwelling place of the heart; behind it is the spine, in front is the breast; on both sides is the compact structure of the ribs. It also has two cavities, as has been said above, which nature created as if they were certain receptacles and cisterns for the reception and preservation of breath, so that in a time of emergency, the heart might find cooling. For often those who are singers of songs, wishing to join word to word or to compose melody from melody, cannot breathe; or rather, they do not wish to, lest they fall out of the debt of the proper harmony. In these cases, therefore, the heart receives breath from the cavities that are in the thorax, and recovers itself B until they cease and draw in an inspiration; such is the substance, action, and use of the thorax, as we have said. C
Chapter XIV. On the neck, the spine, and the spinal marrow.
Let us ascend to the neck and see what its substance and action are; then the back and the spine; then the ribs and the pleura; and then we shall discuss the lungs and the heart. The neck, then, is called *tenon* and *auchen*. D As for the neck, its front part is called the collarbones; the back part, the *tenon*—whence also "tenontion" [tendonitis], a type of disease that is accustomed to infest the nerves of the neck. It is called *trachelos* [neck] from the roughness of the bones there, for that part is bony; or from the fact that food flows—that is, runs—through it, as if *trachos*. The collarbones are so called because they enclose things toward the breast, being articulated with the shoulder blades. For the collarbone came into existence merely for the separation of the thorax; wherefore man alone, of all other animals, possesses a collarbone. The entire neck is bony; it is composed of vertebrae.
are they the vertebrae of the spine, which are held together by muscles and nerves. Of these, seven are attached to the neck, twelve to the back, and five to the loins, so that the number of all the vertebrae is twenty-four. They are all firmly connected and fitted together, and in these junctions, processes appear A in the manner of spines. Physicians have been accustomed to call their cohesion a ginglymus. However, concerning the strength of these vertebrae, and to what use and action they are accommodated, enough has been said in what we have previously explained. Furthermore, the term "neck" [collum] is applied to them, but this name in the proper signification of the word refers to quadrupeds, for this reason, that animals are flayed [excoriantur] from it; but by abuse, this name is also accustomed to be referred to the necks of men. For it is said by abuse, because it cannot be applied to a thing entirely and by right reason. The part which is situated under the shoulder blades is called the "dorsum" [back], which they describe as consisting after the places in which the seat of the mind and the præcordia is situated, as Homer says: "And the liver is under the præcordia."
The spine, indeed, which is, to wit, the efflux of a certain river that divides the right hand from the left [side]. Or from thence, it derives the cause of its name from the roughness of the vertebrae, from which it consists, which is called "it" by them. But it also obtains the name "spine" [spina] from the fact that it is supported by protuberances, or certain processes in the manner of a spine, which by them is called "acantha" [thorn]. Homer calls this "exyn" [sharp], as something which C cannot easily be scratched or clawed with one's own hand, but needs another to do this; for he says: "He struck within the middle of the back to scratch." Explaining this place, he has said as much. The shoulders [humeri] are so named from their enduring the weight of burdens. But the part in which the shoulder blades are is called the "tergum" [back], because that is the thing that turns away [tergiversari], or because it becomes more wet with sweat than other parts as they sustain weights, as Homer says: "Sweat flows down from the shoulders." And that of the prophet: "I gave my back to the smiters," whence animals sustaining a weight on the back are called "dorsifera."
Cap. XV. — Of the ribs.
But there is also the place of the loins, which they call "psyas," D that is to say, from touching, because the flesh in them only touches the bones themselves, and is stretched over the surface. Since, however, the loins, and the thorax, and the order of the ribs cohere and are coupled together, and perform as it were certain common duties of uses and actions, it does not seem inappropriate to bring forward something about the ribs into the midst. For some ribs are long, but others are short, which are called riblets, or degenerate, or false ribs.
A On both sides are the ribs, just as [there are] the vertebrae; for each is articulated to one [vertebra], and those of the breast are jointed to each other. They are seven in number, as many as the ribs articulated to it; so that they are twenty-four in all; twelve jointed on each side; twelve to the twelve vertebrae of the back, and five to the loin; but the seven to the breast, as has been said.
These seven ribs are girded and smoothed over by a certain common membrane; which, from its function, is called the "under-girding" [pleura]. This membrane exists by Providence so that the lung, not being directly in contact with the substance of the bones, which is hard and resistant, may not be harmed or irritated by their touch. There are also muscles around the other ribs, which are called intercostals, and which some also call "phrenes" [diaphragms/midriffs], because when they become inflamed, they drive men into *phrenitis*, that is, madness. For pleurisy is nothing other than an inflammation of the membrane which girds and covers the ribs.
Some have perceived the diaphragm and the "under-girding" membrane to be one and the same; but this is not the case. B For the one is different from the other. The former separates the viscera that are in the thorax from those below the thorax, and performs the function of respiration, as I have already explained; whereas the latter girds the ribs and protects the lung from injury by them. The membrane of the diaphragm they call the "peplon" [mantle] because it is wrapped around the viscera. Or "peplon," because it is spread out underneath; or "patos" [path/covering] from the fact that it is fixed and, as it were, tightly drawn together; wherefore also Callimachus, speaking of it as "periploos" [enveloping], said: "Those who have gone under the holy covering of Hera, to them the 'patos' is a concern." C But in shape the ribs are not all alike; rather some are curved, others incline toward the breast, ending in cartilage, not in bone. They are round on the outside, and on the inside they are broad, and terminate, and exist as if expecting one another. In their upper part, marrow is seen, and not in the innermost part. For this reason they call them "poly-ura" [many-ribbed or broad-ribbed], as you might rightly say they extend to a great width and occupy much space; or "poly-ora," as keeping and surrounding the lung, the heart, and the belly—from the word *horein*, that is, to guard; hence also "kepouros" [gardener] and "thyrouros" [doorkeeper] are derived from it; as also Hesiod says of the earth:
“Earth first produced space equal to herself The starry heaven; that it might encompass all things round” A.
And the term “to encompass” is used for “to guard,” as in: “He has for me a garden set with many trees.” For the word “has” is used here instead of “guards,” as is also: “And it itself contains long columns”; and in this context “contains” is used for “encompasses.” Thus, therefore, the spine, the chest, and the ribs are bound together and articulated, so that as they meet one another in their joints, we may be sufficient for movements, bendings, advances, and retreats—as well as for a moderate pace, rapid running, sitting, and motion that occurs with force or artifice, and other things of this kind. Man alone is able to bend his legs at two right angles, namely at the hip and at the knee; at the hip, the leg is bent inward, but at the knee, it is bent outward.
Cap. XVI-XVII. On the lung and the heart.
Since the chest encloses both the heart and the lung, let us consider how these exist within it. For the heart is encompassed by the lung, and the lung itself in a certain way veils it, since nature fashioned the lung itself to be full of arteries and many passages, so that it might suffice for the office of respiration. The lung is held to be thin, light, and porous for this reason: so that it may be able to admit pure air and excite the heat implanted in the heart, and in turn send out its smoky excrements. For the lung, since it is constituted of four certain things, is like a kind of fabric; for it consists of the rough artery, the smooth artery, the thick vein, and the foamy flesh which is considered its peculiar substance. This flesh fills the spaces of the lung’s texture like tufted grass B, between the two arteries and the vein. Since the lung encompasses the heart situated in its midst between the two arteries and the vein, it refrefreshes the heart by the admission of spirit and brings it solace. And it is for this reason that it is even called *pneumon* (lung), because it is a receptacle of spirit (*pneuma*), and because by its breathing in, it cools those things within and casts out the smoky excrements to the outside. It is also nurtured itself by pure blood; because it is a receptacle of spirit, this blood which nurtures it is concocted and thinned in the right cavity of the heart. For, being of a spongy and thin substance, it must be nurtured by thin and purer blood. For it could not concoct thick blood and consume it for its own nourishment because of its immobility and its occupation with respiration; for this reason, the blood, having been thinned and purified there, first nurtures it along with the airy substance, as if it were purer C.
For the nature of the lung is so subject to afflictions that from any least cold and bad vapor it ulcerates D.
A And not only the lung itself, but the chest that contains it, because it is covered with nerves, is harmed by any cold whatsoever. Since, therefore, there is a part within it that contains, so to speak, the life of man—I mean the innate heat, of which the heart is naturally the workshop—this always needs to be fanned and strengthened according to nature; which happens through inhalation and exhalation. B But these motions are produced by the power of the soul through the dilation and contraction of the chest, as was said before. For this reason, the chest, as the container of the life within us, was honored and composed with many muscles. And it is clear that since there are many muscles, there are also many nerves that provide them with the power of motion. Therefore, the nerves, C being nourished by a phlegmatic, thick, and viscous humor, are easily blocked and afflicted by coldness.
Because of these things, veins, arteries, nerves, ligaments, cartilages, and fat exist in the chest, so that they may both provide the necessary heat to that place, and ward off the injuries arising from cold, and enjoy the benefits of one another. For the vein provides nourishment to the nerve, and to the artery, and to the other parts of the chest—or rather, to the whole body. And the artery distributes natural heat and vital spirit to the vein and to the others. And the nerve provides sensation to them, and to the whole body. The chest also receives a great deal of natural heat from the heart, as it is its dwelling place.
D The heart is nervous, muscular, and venous; it has arteries, and two ventricles on both sides, in which the innate heat and the vital spirit are generated. To it is attached the great and primary artery, which they call the aorta, through which both the vital tone and the innate heat are distributed to all the arteries of the body. By vital tone, we mean the pulse. For the Power that governs all things bestowed the pulse upon the heart, so that by contraction it might express and expel its soot-like waste, which is generated within it because of its excessive heat; and by dilation, it might receive pure air from without. For when it is heated contrary to nature, the whole animal is immediately heated contrary to nature, and when it is cooled, it is cooled just the same.
The power of irascibility, which is a passion of the soul, is also placed in it. We call those things passions of the soul in which the first movement is its own, but the heart suffers along with it as its instrument. For the soul, being immortal, is clearly also without passion.
A That which suffers along with it is moved, and either the vital spirit residing within the heart is carried inward, or it happens to go outside; and when it goes outside, it is carried more agitatedly, as may be seen in those who are angry, whereas in those who are affected by joy, it is more relaxed. But those who are pressed by dread are moved more inwardly within themselves, while for those who are sorrowful, it is accustomed to be agitated at intervals. Therefore the function of the heart is both to produce these effects and to warm the whole body. Its shape is conical. B Being more fiery than all the other parts in the body, it has also been allotted the shape of fire. For just as fire, beginning from a broader and more spacious base, makes for the upper region, always becoming narrower and tapering to a point, so too the heart is conical. Now a cone is a shape that can be easily turned and terminates in a point, and this shape may be understood as follows: If one were to imagine a number of circles laid one upon the other, of which the one below is the largest, and the one above it smaller, then the third and the fourth, and so on, the decrease continues until it ends in the smallest circle; so it is with the cone. Of such a figure, the broad part is called the base, and the narrow part the apex. The heart, therefore, has a conical shape, but it does not have its base facing downward; for if the apex were directed upward, it would send many, hotter vapors up toward the brain, and would thereby alter its mental temperament, which nature, in her bounty, had originally made colder. As it is, its base lies to the rear and upward, while the apex is forward and downward. C For this reason, since it warms the chest, it causes it to become hairier. There is a difference between *lasion* (thick) and *dasu* (dense): for *dasu* is observed in the abundance and density of hairs, while *lasion* is seen not only in these, but also in their size. Consequently, whatever is *lasion* is also *dasu*, but whatever is *dasu* is not necessarily *lasion*. The name *kardia* (heart) is etymologically derived from *kradaino*, which means "I shake," for the heart is in perpetual motion. D Whence it is also indicative of fear and anxiety to come, by throbbing, as in the case of Odysseus: "And his heart beat within him, presaging his fate." And again: "For I have a prudent mind, and my spirit Is not iron within my breast, but compassionate, And it bids me endure the present agony, as when…"
"Sustain [thine] heart, and thou hast endured worse things." A And again, "Unto this will thy heart endure, possessing strength," meaning that it was persuaded to be in peace and patience.
From the heart itself, as has been said, the vital spirit—and the purer and more sincere blood—and the heat are sown throughout the whole body by the ministry of the arteries. For the Creator Nature, having taken great forethought for the heat within us, bestowed it upon two exceeding special parts: the heart and the liver, and especially the heart. From these, therefore, the remaining parts also receive and enjoy their innate heat; each, according to its size and the dignity of its function, constantly partakes of this supply. B And in all the arteries, through many pores that breathe, the airy substance is mixed in with the blood; and at the heart itself, through which the sincere part is kept, while the smoky part is expelled—not only through the mouth and nostrils, but also through the invisible pores. We call these invisible pores the "respiration" of the whole body; through this, from its depth and by the contraction of the arteries, most of the vapors pass out through the porosity of the skin.
After the thorax, from the cartilage called the ensiform, which is the end of the part toward the hypochondrium, from the breast down to the pubic region and its parts—which we also call the bladder—the whole is called the epigastrium; this is divided into three parts: into the epigastrium, and the hypogastrium, and the ἦτρον (lower abdomen). The hypogastrium is what we call the navel. The part above it, being higher, is called the epigastrium, because it is situated upon the stomach; the other is the hypogastrium, because it is situated below it. The part below the navel we call the ἦτρον; that below the testicles is the perineum. Whatever parts are divided into the epigastrium contain the stomach and the upper venter; on the right side is the liver, and the spleen on the left, which are both called C viscera, because they digest the food; these same parts are also called organic.
Chapter XVIII. — On the stomach.
The stomach is nervous, an instrument of appetite and swallowing, and suitable for both moist and dry foods. It is called stomachos because things from the mouth (στόμα) are poured into it—whether moist or dry. Or, as it were, "sitomachos," which contends with the foods—for they weigh upon it; or because it weighs back against them, so that... D
A it may send them down. It is also called "stomachus," which is the "machine" of foods—for others say it is called "stomachus" from the mouth ("stoma"), because it receives the "mastax" from it, that is to say, the food: for it is a machine of foods from the mouth, because it receives the masticated food from it: As the bird brings the masticated food to its unfledged chicks, That they may take it. [alt-version omitted] It is said also in regard to drink. But Odysseus pressed the masticated food with his hands. How it is an instrument of appetite, consider thus. The stomach, as has been said, being an instrument of appetite and swallowing, receives the food from the mouth. It has a cavity toward the end of the cartilaginous bone which is called "ensiform," into which the foods, having been sent down B are placed. Then, after a short time, the belly draws from them what had been previously sent down into the stomach, so that it may distribute these to the liver and the intestines: to the liver, the juice of the food; and to the intestines, the material of excrement. Since, therefore, the excrements have been discarded and separated, as was said above, and all the parts have been nourished with appropriate food, the whole body is consumed by the force of the air weight surrounding us; for this necessity is allotted to all things that are subject to coming-to-be and corruption; for even a stone is seen in the long course of time to be smaller than it had formerly been. Therefore, the whole body is consumed, and especially the skin of the body, as it comes into closer contact with the surrounding air. Then, lacking food, it turns toward the muscles placed beneath it and draws what was set aside for them by way of food; those, again, turn toward those near C them; and thus, by a continuous sequence, this distribution occurs as far as the liver. Then the liver, lacking food, draws what is contained in the mesenteric veins; and these draw from the belly; and the belly from the stomach. And since such a motion has been prescribed as far as the limits of the belly and stomach, hunger is indicated to the animal through the nerves; for this reason, nature has endowed both the belly and the stomach with very many nerves gifted with sensation, so that they, sensing the lack of food, might excite the animal itself to provide food and drink, and that other things might in turn be supplied in place of those that have been consumed; for in this way the constitution of appetite, which you would call hunger, is formed. For from the stomach, the belly; from the belly, the mesenteric veins; from these, the liver; from the liver, all the veins; D from these, the hollow vein; from this, the muscles and the soft flesh which is adjacent to them; from the flesh, the skin is nourished; and thus nourished, it remains from the impulse until it is exhaled; but having been consumed, the reverse occurs.
from the skin receive a sense of lack A. For that one drew up their nourishment; the muscles snatched the expenditure from the flesh and the veins; the veins and the flesh laid hold of the liver; the liver already burdened the belly; for lack, the belly burdened the stomach; the stomach, with the belly, aroused the animal on behalf of nourishment; the animal, on account of the force of nature, devised nourishment for itself. And thus, for the most part of the time, appetite occurs. In winter, as the whole warmth penetrates to the depths of the body, on account of the cold of the surrounding air, and the thickening and impermeability of the body, the innate heat, being overheated and excessive, and consuming all the moisture, produces a greater appetite. Hippocrates, knowing this, says: "The bellies in winter and spring are by nature hottest; in these seasons, therefore, more provisions must be given." By "provisions" he means food, as being brought to the body; whence also *artos* (bread) is named from *airein*, which is to bring, every day; for this is to us nourishment and an addition to the body. But if there were introduced as much as was dispersed, it would result that our bodies would remain unchangeable and would not grow old, nor suffer from old age. But since the dispersion, and the cleansing of excrements, is greater, while the nourishment from food for the body is little—for food is that which nourishes, according to Hippocrates—for this reason, by the moisture in us being gradually consumed, and the body, as it were, drying up, the animal grows old and corrupts, and is brought to weakness and infirmity, not only man, but also the rest of the animals. This, then, is the need, the function, and the naming of the stomach. B
Chapter XIX. — On the liver.
The liver is a red, fleshy substance, having C tension in the right parts, in which blood is generated; from which the veins have sprouted, through which blood is distributed for the nourishment of the whole body; and this is the limit of the liver. Its construction and function have been spoken of before. But a few things will be said about it now. For as an organ of the appetitive faculty, it performs this in two ways: one in foods, and the other in acts of intercourse; and through the one, it introduces what is lacking to the body, and through the other, it casts out what is excessive. D
This organ is also by nature warm, because it is the generator of blood and, indeed, of the other humors as well. For the foods, even if they happen to be of different natures, into the belly through the stomach...
mixed with the rest. The liver A, having received it from the mesenteric veins, makes it more fiery, converts it by cooking into the nature of blood, and sends it through the veins to the whole body for sufficient maintenance. B Whence from the dreggy blood, the melancholic humor is generated; from its serous part, the yellow bile; from the foamy and bubbly part, the phlegm. And the melancholic humor and the phlegm, as being heavier and more ponderous than the others, settle below. The yellow bile, however, being of a finer nature, follows the upper region, while the blood occupies the middle position by precise arrangement. And in its concave parts the liver has muscles lying under it, which are fellow-workers in the cooking of the blood and in the discrimination of the other humors. In its convex parts, the vena cava stands divided in two: one part of it travels to the lower regions, to the groins and legs; C the other part [travels] toward the heart, the thorax, and the head, and being contained by the clavicle, it encompasses it both inside and outside; then, ascending again, it grows together toward the carotids and is split, creating the so-called jugular veins, by which the most part of the organic and simple parts of the body are irrigated. The liver (ἧπαρ) is so called from being raised (ἐπῆρθαι) and curved (κεκυρτῶσθαι), or from irrigating (ἐπαρδεύειν) the whole body with blood, or from satisfying (ἥδω, to gladden)—hence *hedar* and *hepar*—for in it are [the sources of] both pleasure and desire; for which reason Tityus is even said to be punished through the liver.
Chapter XX. De liene.
Κεφ. Κ'. — Περὶ τοῦ σπληνός.
The spleen stands opposite the liver. It is veinous and arterial, D and uneven-surfaced, having thin and many vessels, and between the vessels are seen clots; for this reason it is loose and porous. It is also cold and pungent, having this sharpness from nature to stimulate the stomach to an appetite for food. But it also pours the secretion of the redundant humor, that is, the black [bile], into the stomach, and it constricts and tones it, and excites it to digestions. And besides these things, it also purges the liver, drawing away the dreggy and muddy [fluids] of the liquids cast off from the liver, for its own nourishment. Whence it is called *splen*, from the drawing to itself (ἐπισπάσθαι) of those fluids that have become foul.
Chapter XXI. De ventre.
Κεφ. ΚΑ'. — Περὶ τῆς ἄνω γαστρός.
The stomach is nervous and fatty; it receives [index: entries preserved]
A a vessel for liquid and dry food, which nature created in order that the food delivered into it might be digested. They call it *koilia* (belly) from its cavity, or from its capacity to turn food into chyle and soften it. It is also called *gaster* (stomach) because it is rounded, and provides our food; or because it becomes pregnant and is filled when it is sated; or from the word *gō* (to take), because it is always taking in what is never filled; it is like a double-valved vessel. The part which is above has a narrow and straight section, and a small pouch, wherefore it is prone B to vomit; physicians call it the small upper ventricle. The lower part is wide and has a large cavity, as the food gathers there. The stomach shares in many sensory nerves, especially at its orifice, so that it is most prompt in sensing the need for anything, as was shown earlier, so that the animal might not be surreptitiously destroyed by starvation. For food is taken into our body for two reasons: for the replenishment of what is dissipated, and for the growth of the innate heat. For the desire for food is a natural function of the stomach and belly, occurring with sensory perception.
Therefore, the stomach and the liver work together on the food that enters from outside; for the one produces chyle, while the other turns it into blood. The elementary C humors are generated in the liver according to the aforementioned reasoning. And since they exist by nature, Providence has deigned that they should have receptacles. For the yellow bile, there is the gallbladder, which lies in the sinuses of the liver; for the melancholic humor, the spleen; for the serous blood, the kidneys and ureters, and the bladder; for the blood, the veins and arteries; but for the black bile, there is no receptacle. For nature does not even recognize it, as it is contrary to nature; but whenever it is generated, it contrives every movement to expel it D and to force it toward the lower exit, because of the acrid and painful nature of its quality. Phlegm is scattered over all the internal regions, but it is also diffused in the head; and there are specific fluids within the stomach and the chest.
There is excreted below that which is thick and more phlegmatic, while that which is thin, more pure, and chymous is spat out through the mouth, through *anachrempsis* (throat-clearing) and *apochrempsis* (expectoration). There is one thing called *anachrempsis* and another *apochrempsis*; *anachrempsis* is when…
together; and the other parts of the body are nourished; but the useless excrement, that is to say the purgation of the food, which is dung, is cast out. It is called dung (*kopros*) because it is poured (*cheisthai*) through the passage (*poros*), being a *chopros* as it were; or as *kopos* (labor), for the excrement, when it is retained, both burdens and causes labor. The receptive among the intestines is, for instance, the cecum. Those that serve for passage, for instance, the colon (the colon is also called *kolos* on account of its concavity). The excretory is, for instance, the rectum. Now the succession of these in a straight line from the stomach to the belly is as follows: From the lower part of the stomach, the twelve-fingered appendage receives the excrement—which some have even thought to be a part of the stomach. After the twelve-fingered appendage is the jejunum; it was called jejunum (*nēstis*, "fasting") because it is situated near certain veins called *nukleidon*.
Chapter XXII. — On the gullet and the trachea.
For it must be known that the mouth, having received the food, chews it, cuts it, and softens it by employing various teeth, and sends it to the gullet. The gullet is situated between the larynx and the vertebrae; and it is succeeded by the cavity of the belly, in which the foodstuffs contained are digested and turned into chyle; and the diverse substances are transmuted into a single form. After the belly, the intestines follow, lying in a circle as far as the pubes and the anus, in which the muscle of the sphincter gives the sensation of evacuation; they are fleshy and possess veins. And some of the intestines cooperate toward the digestion of food, while others are made for the reception and excretion of waste; they are thirteen cubits in length, each one measured by its own cubit. There are nine orders of intestines, covered round and held firm by a fatty membrane; and each is thus named: stomach, belly, pylorus, the so-called twelve-fingered appendage (which receives this name from its measurement in length), the slender [intestine], jejunum, cecum, colon, archon, and the rectum.
65. Of these, some are discriminatory of food, others are receptive, others are for passage, and others are excretory. And the discriminatory ones are the pylorus, jejunum, and the slender [intestine]; for here the useful part of the foods is separated from the useless; and the useful chyle is given up to the liver for digestion and the nourishment of the parts; while the useless waste, that is the purgation of the food, or dung, is cast out. It is commonly said to be dung (*kopros*) because it is poured through the passage, being a *chopros* as it were; or as *kopos*; for the waste lying within burdens and causes labor. The receptive among the intestines are, such as the cecum. The pass-through ones, such as the colon; the colon is also called *kolos* on account of the concavity. The excretory ones, such as the rectum. The succession of these in a straight line from the stomach occurs thus: From the lower part of the stomach, the twelve-fingered appendage receives the waste; which some indeed have thought to be a part of the stomach itself. After the twelve-fingered [appendage] is the jejunum; and the jejunum was so called because it is situated near certain veins called *nukleidon*.
A From the lower part of the belly, the twelve-fingered process—which some have wished to call a part of the stomach—receives the excrement. After this intestine is that which is called the jejunum, so named because it is situated near the veins that are called "mediators," by whose agency, in the order of nature, the entire humor is drained, and thus it is always seen empty.
Dehinc B next succeed the slender intestines; for in them certain windings are seen, from the fact that their position does not extend in a straight line; and between these coils lies a membranous and fatty substance, which common people call *eklusis* (occlusion), which you might term an obstruction, over which lie the intestines and the little veins issuing from the liver. After the slender intestines follow the thick ones, among which the first is what is called the *caecum* (blind intestine), which is the first to receive the material of the dung. And because this intestine has no exit, it belches forth the material of the dung, and in a certain manner vomits it up, and sends it down to be received by the intestine which is called the colon. For this caecum intestine extends obliquely from the right side. The colon intestine, however, when it is stretched out from the left and winds itself over the caecum intestine, reaches as far as the right part of the groin, then again, with a repeated flexure, proceeds as far as the left groin. Wherefore, those who are pressed by the colical disease, feeling pains in flexures of this kind, sometimes move hither and thither in the manner of a serpent. From that intestine which is called the colon is the *archon* (ruling/leading) intestine, which transmits the dung received into itself to the rectum intestine, as being the last of all; to which, indeed, because of its straightness, a patent path for exiting lies open without any delay interposed: for which cause it has obtained the name of *rectum*. These things, therefore, are all sustained and held together by the belly. Wherefore, since the greatest care for the belly had to be taken by the providence of the supreme Creator, He surrounded it with countless muscles, of which some incline upwards, others downwards, some by a straight path, others are directed obliquely. To these, others also, forming various windings from the chest, are partly directed from the right groin into the left, and partly from the left into the right. Moreover, the omentum and the abdomen cover the belly itself, and warm it, and impart strength to it, so that it may be able to sustain and protect the intestines more robustly and strongly, and the matter which is in them.
D The muscle at the orifice of the fundament, which they call the sphincter, or the *proktos* (anus), holds together the extremity of the rectum; from which both flatulence and all dry excrements are pushed out, on account of the dilation of that narrow orifice; it is called *sphincter* because it constricts the intestine and, as it were, binds it, lest, namely, both flatulence and dung be excreted by us untimely and in places where it is not fitting. But they call the anus *proktos*, as it were *proaktos* (forward-driving), because the excrement is cast out through it. Since, indeed, through the intestines various and sharp humors are carried from the excrements, nature has fashioned a certain fatty and phlegmatic substance and has coated it...
A with this, applying it as a shield and bulwark, so that the bite of the sharp effluvium [of the excrement] does not easily cause stinging and pain, and bring shared pain upon the human being. This, then, can also be observed in the stomach, as I have said before, because the omentum and the peritoneum cover it on all sides as a protection. And again, internally, where the excrements lie, it has been coated and glazed in the same way as the intestines, for the aforementioned reason. Knowing, or rather the providence-exercising nature, that the nervous parts are stung and pained B by some sharpness, and bring shared pain to the senses, it devised the aforementioned glaze. Further, providing for the animal, it constructed canal-like passages, through which the excremental and dreg-like parts of the body are cleansed; for since it knows that the food taken in, even if it is entirely proper for our body, still contains something excremental, it devised these for this reason. Just as those who look after certain cities construct conduits, drains, and gullies, sending C the collected excrement into lakes or seas. Since there are three digestions—that in the stomach, that in the liver, and that in the whole body—it is necessary that the kinds of excrement also be threefold. So the first excrement of food is called solid; and it is feces; this is cleared out through the intestines, by the passage of the anus. The excrement of the second digestion is liquid, being cleansed through the kidneys and ureters; it is called urine. The excrement of the third digestion is of the whole body, and it is called sweat; it is cleansed through the invisible pores. All these things have come to pass so that, by lingering, they might not putrefy in the intestines D and bring about no small harm to the animal; and together with all the excrements excreted from the body, vital spirit is also excreted, in the feces, in the urine, in the spittle, and in the sweat. The intestines are called *entera*, as if *entela*, from being coiled or from flowing; but *entera* are so called from being coiled inwards, as if *entela*—those things coiled inside; or from the fact that they are the passage for the excess of food; they are also called *endina*, as Homer says: "to touch the *endina*," some *endina* being the things inside the fibers or limbs. And indeed, they are also called *cholades*, as in the phrase, "The *cholades* were poured out..."
χολάδες (e). Χολάδες δὲ, διὰ τὸ κατὰ φύσιν A δέχεσθαι τὸ χολῶδες περίττωμα· μετὰ δὲ τὰ σπλάγχνα, καὶ γαστέρα, καὶ ἔντερα, ὁ τόπος, ἐν ᾧ ἀποτελευτῶσιν αἱ νόθοι πλευραί, λαγὼν λέγεται, καὶ κενεών, καὶ λαπάρα. Τὰ μὲν γὰρ πλησίον τῶν πλευρῶν ὀστέα, λαγόνων ὀστᾶ λέγονται· εἰσὶ δὲ πλατέα. Τὰ δὲ ἐπὶ τὴν ἐπίβασιν, ὄπισθέν τε καὶ κάτωθεν, ὀστᾶ ἰσχίων· τὰ δὲ εἰς τὸ πρόσω μέρος ἐντεῦθεν ἀνατεινόμενα, λεπτὰ ὄντα καὶ διατετρημένα, καὶ συμφυόμενα κατὰ τὸ πέρας ἀλλήλοις, ἤδης καλέουσιν ὀστᾶ. Quæ vero inde ad anteriorem partem diriguntur, quæ exilia ac terebrata sunt, quæve extremis partibus invicem cohærent, pubis ossa appellantur.
Κεφ. ΚΓ'. — Περὶ τοῦ τόπου τῆς ἤδης καὶ τοῦ ἤτρου.
Κατὰ γὰρ τὸν τῆς ἤδης χρόνον ἐκεῖσε φύονται αἱ τρίχες· ὄντινα τόπον ἐφήβαιον καὶ ἦτρον ἐκάλεσαν· ἦτρον μὲν διὰ τὸ ἔντερον, ἐκ τοῦ ἵημι τὸ πέμπω, ἴητρον, καὶ ἐν συγκοπῇ ἦτρον τὸ πέμπον τὸ περίττωμα κάτω· ἐφήβαιον δὲ, διὰ τὸ βαίνειν τὰς τρίχας ἐκεῖ, ὀλίγας τε καὶ μικράς· ὥστε μόνον βῆναι· βαιὸς γὰρ ὁ μικρός· ὁ δὲ τῆς ἤδης χρόνος ἀόριστος, διὰ τὴν ἀνισότητα τοῦ ἐν τοῖς ἡδάσκουσιν ἐμφύτου θερμοῦ· καὶ Ἡσίοδος· B "Ἀλλ' ὅταν ἡβήσειεν, καὶ ἤδης μέτρον ἵκοιτο" (I).
Κενεὼν δὲ καὶ λαπάρα τὸ αὐτό· ὡς τὸ, "Μίαν πόλιν ἐξαλαπάξαι", τουτέστι, τῶν ὑπαρχόντων αὐτῇ κενῶσαι πολιτῶν καὶ πραγμάτων· ἢ διὰ τὸ κενὸν εἶναι ὀστέων τὸν τόπον· ἢ διὰ τὴν λάπαθον τὴν βοτάνην κενωτικὴν γαστρὸς οὖσαν. Λαγὼν δὲ παρὰ τὸ λήγω· ἐκεῖσε γὰρ λήγουσιν αἱ πλευραί.
Τοῦτον τὸν τόπον κατωτέρω λαγόνος, βουβῶνας καλοῦσι, τὰ ἔνθεν κἀκεῖθεν τῆς βαλάνου καὶ τῶν διδύμων. Τὸ δὲ τῆς βαλάνου ἐξίσης τὴν κύστιν λέγουσι, διὰ τὸ εἶναι ἐκεῖσε τὴν οὐρηδόχου κύστιν. Κοινωνία γὰρ ἔρχεται δύο πόρων ἀπὸ τῆς ὀσφύος φυσικῷ νόμῳ, τοῦ ἀπευθυσμένου καὶ τῆς οὐρηδόχου κύστεως· ἥτις δέχεται μὲν τὸ οὗρον ἀπὸ τοῦ νώτου αὐτῆς, ἔξωθεν ἀπὸ τῶν νεφρῶν, διὰ νεύρων καὶ φλεβῶν τῶν λεπτών, ὧν ἔχει· ἐξεῖα γάρ ἐστιν εἰς τὸ ἕλκειν. Ἐκβάλλει δὲ ἀπὸ τοῦ τραχήλου αὐτῆς, καὶ ἀποκρίνει τὸ οὗρον ἔξωθεν, διὰ τῆς βαλάνου. Ἐπεὶ δὲ τὸ λεγόμενον ἀρχὸν ἔντερον ὑπόκειται αὐτῇ, φλεγμαινούσης C πολλάκις αὐτῆς, ἐπίσχεσις γίνεται τῆς κόπρου, οὐχ ἥκιστα δὲ τοῦ οὔρου.
Βουβῶνας δὲ ὠνόμασαν τοὺς εἰρημένους τόπους, ἀπὸ τοῦ συμβαίνοντος οἰδήματος ἐν αὐτοῖς· ἐκ τοῦ βῶ τὸ βαίνω· παρὰ τὸ ἄγαν βαίνειν εἰς ὕψος· βῶ, βὼν, καὶ μετὰ τοῦ βοῦ ἐπιτατικοῦ μορίου, βουβῶνας. D
which they call glands. Since this region A is glandular, and glands are naturally weak and porous—for Nature has underlaid them in the parts for the sole purpose of receiving waste, so that when humor falls upon them, they are unable to expel it due to their natural weakness, and thus swell into a tumor—and since this is a frequent occurrence in these parts, they have deservedly obtained such a name. But the bladder (vesica) is so named from the retention of urine.
There are certain instruments that serve the office of urination, such as the kidneys, in which the humid excrement is divided; but some exhibit transit, and these are indeed the vessels which proceed from the liver to the kidneys. For the veins, which are called mediators, extend to the loins. But the instrument for receiving urine is the bladder; and for discharging the same, there is the neck of the bladder. Now, of these, the vessels that exhibit transit are set up only for the sake of utility, not to perform any action. But some things, as the kidneys and the bladder, perform the duties assigned to them; for in them the urine itself is brought to its proper end and perfection.
B The places that consist behind the bladder, the groin, and the ilia are called the loins, for in them the kidneys are placed. Indeed, their substance is found to be of a lax, glandular nature and of a sparse material, similar to that of the testicles. Furthermore, the kidneys themselves are the cause both of the desire for intercourse and of the purification of the blood, because they draw off its serous material, C which, as we said before, they form into the constitution of urine. The kidneys (renes) are so named because they distill (dianiphthesthai) the urine. But they are accustomed to call them the loins (lumbos), because they are very conveniently fitted to the bones both above and below: for there are five internodes of the spine, which are considered thicker and larger than the others. For internally they are seen to be perforated by a narrow hole, for which reason the spinal marrow, the more it extends toward the flanks, the more it is slender, and the more it descends, the more it is drawn into a narrow space. For these internodes of the spine D contain processes tending upwards, and it is said that the place is called so because it is entirely filled with bone; it is also said that it is because it becomes slender and subtle; for this part is seen to be the most subtle of the erect body.
Chapter XXIV. — Concerning the sacred bone and the pudenda.
But that which is exactly in the middle of the loins, and which is set above the base, is called the sacred bone, for the reason, namely, that it is great (for "sacred" is often said to mean "great"), or because it holds the fate of life,
the ancient Greeks. A It is, moreover, similar to the aforementioned vertebrae of the spine; its lateral processes are large and broad, having cavities, upon which rest the bones of the flanks. Below this aforementioned bone lies another bone, cartilaginous, broad, and small, called the *coccyx*; which some call a tail, though they do not say this wisely, for this ought to be called so in the case of irrational animals, as Homer also does in the case of the lion: And lashing sides and flanks on either hand, 171 He spurs himself to fight with stroke of tail. B They call this bone the *coccyx*, then, as Galen says, because the spirits going out from it through the anus, striking against this bone, make a sound like a cuckoo; this being a metaphor from the cuckoo bird. Or else because it is glued to the anus, so that it might not be opened too much; and from this is derived *kolax* and the derivative *coccyx*. For it is also called *kolon* [mutilated/truncated], as being not whole; for the small and not complete thing, Homer also calls *kolon*: 117 For far off he brandished the mutilated spear. The anus is also called the *daktulios* [ring], because it is reachable by the finger; or from the roundness of the *semantēr* [signifier]—the *semantēr* being the sphincter—because it signifies and announces the exit. Some have also understood the *coccyx* bone from this: for the cock also is a proclaimer of the day. And the anus [*hedra*] is so named either from the fixedness [*hedraion*] of the place and its strength, or from *exo* [out], for I sit, from which also comes *kathedra* [chair]. C And the anus is so called from the fixedness of the place, from which, one might say, the name *cathedra* rightly takes its origin.
Chapter XXV. — On witnesses and the acorn.
The bodies, then, which pertain to the testicles and the glans itself, are called by these names: *aidoia* [pudenda], *balanos* [glans], *kaulos* [stalk], *sēranggōdes neuron* [fistular nerve], *psōlē*, and *kupris*. D They are called *aidoia*, that is, pudenda, for this reason, because we are ashamed to uncover or even name them out of season or without cause. The glans is also called *kaulos*, and *sēranggōdes neuron* [fistular nerve], and *psōlē*, and *kupris*. The skin covering it is called *postē* and *prosthesma*. It is called *postē* because it seems, as it were, to be laid upon and accustomed [to be placed thereupon]; and *prosthesma* because it is added to the others in intercourse; or because it is on the forward parts. He calls it *balanos* [acorn], because in resemblance it is like an acorn. *Psōlē* is so called from being inflated according to the desire for venereal pleasures; and because it is naturally a windy protrusion; or from *psō*,
psō*, A which means "to touch" and "to itch." For itching is a certain kind of pleasure. *Sēranggōdes* (fistular) nerve is so called because it sometimes grows and sometimes subsides through being dried up, just as the fistular passages do. *Kaulos* (stalk/penis) is so called because it is elongated; for everything elongated is a *kaulos*—for by the addition of the *k* it becomes *kaulos*. And for this reason it was constructed elongated, so that, as if from a sling, it might propel the seed into the womb in a straight line, and not, remaining outside, become a cause of sterility.
It is entirely nervous, having an essence consisting of muscles B and veins and needs and, in addition, arteries. Its utility is twofold: for the projection of the seed and for the evacuation of urine. Urine is the dregs of the blood or the serum of the entire nourishment. The *didymoi* (twins) and *orcheis* (testicles) are also called *mēdea*, from *mēdein* (to care for) and *archein* (to rule) over generation; and Homer says: *I will throw the mutilated mēdea to the dogs* (i).
The skin that surrounds them is called *oscheos* (scrotum), from covering the things contained C by it. I mean the testicles and the *parastatai* (prostate/epididymis), and the seminal vessels, and the *elytroeidēs* (sheath-like) tunic, and the *dartoi*. For all these things are contained under the scrotum. The *orcheis* are so called from their providing the desire for sexual intercourse, or as if they were *ercheis*, those into which the seed comes; their substance is glandular and porous, fashioned for the generative power of the seed. The *parastatai*, which are also called *kremastēres* (suspenders), are an offshoot D of the spinal marrow of the membrane, descending along with arterial veins into the testicles, through which the emission of the seed into the genitals occurs. *Sperma* (seed) is therefore so called because it has within itself the perfection of the power of the seed, for the begetting of such an animal as that from which it was separated.
The seminal vessels, therefore, are veins proceeding from the hollow vein which lies upon the spine, from the top down to the bottom. By these veins the testicles are nourished; for in these the serous fluid is first produced, the blood having been transformed just as milk is in the breasts. The arteries and veins that are in the testicles, therefore, concoct the blood into a serous fluid for the sake of nourishing them; for from the seed
A of origin do they have their genesis. For when one is born from seed, he is both nourished from this; and those that are from blood, [are nourished] from blood. These, therefore, are generated and nourished 88 from seed; and what remains over for them becomes the semen. For these veins and arteries, falling into the testicles, become the causes of intercourse in such a way: passing through the kidneys, they draw up a certain sharpness that irritates the appetite; for just as sharpness causes itching, so it does this appetite. Since the flesh of the testicles is soft, receiving more sharpness than B the skin, it makes the desire of the semen for excretion frenzied. And first, such semen is carried up to the head; again, from the head it is carried down through two veins and two arteries into the scrotum, and one artery of those mentioned falls into each of the testicles, and one vein full of semen; and in these it is perfectly concocted into seed, and through the ivy-like parastata, it is sent forth from the testicles to the glans; and from there it is excreted with breath 93, as if from a sling. This happens because of the aforementioned cause, previously 94, and because it is an artery that is sending it. That the semen first 95 goes up to the head is clear from this: for if anyone cuts the veins beside the ears and the parotid glands, the animal remains barren.
Of the auxiliary tunic
The tunic is entirely nervelike, into which the vessels of the semen pass; it is called the "erutros" [auxiliary]; it lies along the groins and supports the testicles; and it is loose C along the convex parts of the testicles and in front, but along the concave parts behind, it is attached to the testicles. This "erutros" is an offshoot of the peritoneum; it has been spoken of before that it is stretched over the belly and the D intestines 96. And in its lower parts there are certain offshoots, like purse-shaped pouches; one on the right, and the other on the left, in which the testicles are contained 98. From within, therefore, the aforementioned seminal vessels empty into these pouches, and carry the semen to the testicles. And by some violence, or weight, or jumping, or running, or calling out, or a bubonocele, the intestine, being opened, is carried down into the scrotum, because it lies upon the "erutros"; and what is called the "enterocoele" occurs 98. It is named "erutros," from "eruko," which means "I help"; from this comes the name "eruchos"; and the derivative, "eruktos," the helper; and by the loss of the "k" and the addition of the "s," "erutros"—for this too is a helper to the testicles, if indeed what is inside hangs from it; or thus: "eurus," "eurutos," and from it
[The translation of the preceding page ends here, and we continue directly:]
providing aid, for they hang from it, and it provides them with support: or you might call it *erythros* [`red`] because of its breadth, because they call what is broad *eurys*. Hence, certain membranous tunics, which are somehow glued together, adhere to this auxiliary tunic, and for this reason these are called *dartoi* [`flayed` (skin)], because they are outside the skin; for the testicles are not attached immediately to the scrotum, so that they might not easily be chilled by the cold, nor be made excessively lax by the heat.
B Women possess all the same parts as men, but ones that are within and not without. However, women have one part distinguishing them from men, in which the animal is brought to perfection: that is, the womb. It has two cavities, a right one and a left one, in which the embryos are brought to life; for Hippocrates says: "Male embryos are in the right [side], and female in the left." Some say that she can bear more than two in a single birth. The breasts are also larger and more developed, and the milk turns white within them; in all other respects, they are similar, except for the difference between the male and the female. For the male possesses a certain masculinity, not only in the aforementioned reproductive organs, but also in power, contemplation, character, and constitution; whereas [the female] possesses femininity in the constitution of the body, in natural weakness, and in the whole composition. That there is a certain difference between the male and the female, and that it is natural, the phoenix is a witness. Some say that men possess masculinity in the testicles, because when these are removed, they become effeminate and become like women—neither bearing a beard, nor possessing the natural power of procreation; C wherefore the Theologian calls them humans of ambiguous gender. Moreover, the manliness of the voice is taken from them, and in the performance of most tasks, they differ in no way at all from the female sex.
Chapter XXVI. – On the hands.
D Thus, leaving aside the parts of the thighs and feet, let us direct our speech to the explanation of the hands, and from these, let us investigate those parts again. For in every other genus of animals, the anterior limbs of the body are feet, because that which is curved in them requires support. But in the structure of the human body, in place of the anterior legs of animals, there are hands. Now, since man is carried with an upright body, the use of two feet is quite sufficient for the security of his gait. Furthermore, the offices of the hands assist the uses of reason; for you would rightly call the hands the instrumental parts of a rational nature, not only because they perform all tasks concerning common and apparent things most skillfully, but also because, through their appropriate ministry, whenever it happens, our thought...
shows itself through the use of letters; and this, indeed, is granted us by the grace of the supreme Creator, that we may converse in our absence, and I do not know by what art, we use the ministry of our hands in discourse when we adapt our voices to the figures of letters. A Yet I, looking to other things, says Gregory of Nyssa, say that the hands assist in the utterance of the Word. For if it were possible to count the thousand needs of life, for which these ingenious and many-sided instruments of the hands are useful, clearly carrying out every craft and every energy, both in war and in peace; but before all others, for the sake of the Word, the Lord added them to the body. For if man were destitute of hands, surely the parts of his face would have been fashioned in the likeness of quadrupeds, suitably for the need of food; so as to have an elongated shape, and to be tapered toward the nostrils, and for the lips of the mouth to be thrust forward, B being callous, firm, and thick, and adapted for the plucking of fodder. And that which is formed under the teeth would lie within, and the tongue would not be as it is, but rather quite fleshy and resistant, and rough, and cooperating with the teeth in that which goes under the teeth; or liquid and spread out toward the sides, as is the case of dogs and other blood-drinking animals. If, therefore, hands were not present to the body, how could articulate speech be represented, if the construction of the parts around the mouth were not framed for the use of utterance? C It would be necessary to bleat like a sheep, or to low, or to bark like a dog, or to give a neigh like a horse, or to shout after the fashion of oxen and asses, or to emit some bestial sound. But now, the hand having been added to the body, according to the ineffable wisdom of the Creator, the body is well-fitted for the ministry of the Word. For indeed, even one who sings musically harmonizes the singing with the hand, and what one fashions with the hand, those same things he also publishes through the vocal instruments by melody. But even the psalmists who stand in the choirs, if they were not to use their hands D following along with the things sung, they would be shown as ridiculous. Wherefore some also, in conversing, move their hands, showing from this that the hands have proven to be the proper instrument of the rational nature, and especially of the intellect. For this reason the Psalmist also says: *Render to them, O Lord, according to the works of their hands.* And another prophet says: *Woe to the wicked man, for evil things will befall him according to the works of his hands.* For the prophets do not cry out against those working in the crafts for the procurement of food and the benefit of many, but they point out those who work at iniquity; so that even the things of the mind
A are expressed by the hands themselves. Therefore, it is necessary to follow the movement of the principle and the instruments.
Hands are named, indeed, from their use, B as if they were necessities, for no art can be perfected without hands, as Homer says: *With hands cut off, the works of Pallas perish.* Some wish them to be called hands from the fact of their acting easily, or from *ischô* meaning "I hold," as they are suited for holding; or from the separating C and spreading of the fingers. They are also called *ôlenai* (ulnae), because tasks are performed and completed by them. A certain part of the hand is called the arm, another the elbow, another the wrist, another the metacarpus, and another the palm, from which the fingers arise. And an arm (*brachiôn*), as if *brachykiôn*; for the bone of the arm is shorter than that of the thigh. For it is articulated at both ends; and at the shoulder, it has a large epiphysis of the head. Its lower end terminates D into unequal condyles; and to the outer condyle the head of the radius is articulated; to the inner, nothing.
There is a cavity at the lower end of the arm resembling a pulley, around which the elbow moves, and inside it another cavity is seen. These cavities receive the processes of the elbow, which they call corones; for in the inward flexions, the front cavity receives the front coronoid, and in extensions, the rear one receives the rear. And the head of the arm is articulated with the cavity of the shoulder blade; and the anchor-shaped process of the shoulder blade rises above the shoulder itself, upon which rests the muscle called the biceps, from which nerves extend to the summits of the shoulder and where the clavicle is articulated. From the front of each summit of the shoulder there are nerves which are called tendons, by which the whole bulk of the shoulder is supported. There are also two other tendons placed there under the shoulder, where the armpit holds its place, having their constitution from the muscles; one of which nature has extended from the chest, the other from the rear toward the arm, reaching down to the elbow, bringing about all the rotations of the hand. The armpit, therefore, is etymologized from its holding fast whatever it may contain; or from its relaxing toward the breast; or where the muscle relaxes; or from "seeking" (*masteuein*) something under it, because we hide whatever we take away from others. The arm, then...
is considered a single bone down to the elbow, where it is joined and coupled with the forearm. And the bone which represents the weaver’s rod (*kerkis*) is, from the upper part down to the very base where it joins the palm, firmly attached to the elbow. A The forearm (*pêchus*), as they call it, might be said to be so named because it is "fastened" (*pepêgenai*) to the extremity of the arm; and the forearm is larger than the rod-bone, the *kerkis*. The forearm lies beneath the *kerkis* and carries it toward its operation, so that the *kerkis* is on the side of the thumb, while the forearm is on the side of the little finger. It is called *kerkis* from the *krekein*—that is, the "resounding"—that it makes. The forearm and the *kerkis* are joined to each other at both ends by strong ligaments, but throughout the middle space they are entirely separated from one another. Stretching around these, long tendons wrapped with muscles perform the motive power and action of the hand, receiving their impulse from the soul. For it was said B also previously that whatever is moved by nerves and muscles is entirely of the soul, and is accomplished according to our own volition.
Now, at the junction of the arm and the forearm, on the front side of the hand, three veins and arteries pass through, extending in many branches toward the roots of the fingers of the hand: the humeral, which we also call the cephalic; the median; and the interior. We call the middle one the "universal," just as we call the interior one the "splenic," to which the artery also lies closest. Beneath the universal vein, therefore, a nerve lies—just as one lies beneath the splenic artery—and these must be observed during phlebotomy. It must be known that the interior vein of the left hand originates from the spleen, and that of the right from the liver; while the middle vein—which is the largest—is directed from both parts of the body. These three veins divide, just as they do inside the forearm and in the wrist region, into many small vessels mixed C with one another, and they do the same on the outside; for they come together, uniting with one another and with those on the inside. They extend beneath all the skin covering the wrist, the metacarpus, and the fingers; and you may find the same arrangement in the feet, where veins extending there from the kidneys terminate in a manifold and branched-out order.
At the part where the *kerkis* and the forearm end, that region is called the wrist (*karpos*). Eight bones, constructed in two rows, compose the wrist; these are hard, small, marrowless, and multiform in their shape, for some are convex, some are concave, some are straight, D and some are rounded.
ted in two rows, compose the wrist; these are hard, small, marrowless, and multiform in their shape, for some are convex, some are concave, some are straight, and some are rounded. A Everything is bound together by cartilaginous ligament of the nerves, being articulated one to another. The upper part of the wrist is articulated with the forearm and the radius, while the lower part is articulated with its own four bones of the metacarpus, for there are four of them. B And there are fifteen bones of the five fingers, for they are three-jointed, or have three knuckles, or three reeds, as they are called by both terms. Thus the metacarpus is the back of the palm, and the wrist is below this; in it are the anterior arteries, which teach us the pulsing movement.
119 Therefore the composition of the bones of the whole hand is as follows: the arm, the forearm, the radius, eight bones of the wrist, four of the metacarpus, fifteen of the fingers, which consist of a triple order of reed-like bones, and all these together are thirty in number. C The anterior part of the metacarpus is the palm, which is called *palamē* in Greek, though they also call it *thenar*. And they think it is called *palamē* because by its service we grasp and accomplish many things, which things are made clear by all that we perform. As Homer says: *Nestor, the horseman, shook the helmet, having placed the lots within.* Yet it is also called *thenar* D because, being a space by position, it is the place into which things given are put; or because by it one strikes—that is, beats—for by it this is also accomplished.
Chapter XXVII — On the fingers
They called them *daktyloi* (fingers) for a twofold reason: one, from the fact that they grasp, or one might say, contain; the other, because we use their service in demonstrating objects. For the great finger is called the pollex (thumb); the one next to it is the index; then the middle; next to this is the ring finger; and the last is the little finger. Now the thumb is so called because it stands opposed to the others, or because it has the strength equal to the whole hand; for the others are useless without it. The index is so called because we use it to demonstrate things. [D (cont)] All the fingers consist of three reeds. The first joint is called the procondylus, that is, the first reed; the one next to it is the second; and the third, which is reckoned with the nail, is called the metakondylion. Therefore, they were called knuckles (*kondyloi*) from the bending of the fingers, for the bending happens around them; or perhaps because a *kendyloi* is a name for a thing that enters into the empty spaces of those being struck. And the blow which occurs with the fingers, whether against the jaw or against
ἐκλήθησαν κόνδυλοι· περὶ αὐτοὺς γὰρ ἡ κάμψις γίνεται· ἢ οἷον κένδυλος τις ὤν, ὁ εἰς τὰ κενὰ δυόμενος τῶν ῥαπιζομένων. Ἡ δὲ μετὰ τῶν δακτύλων γινομένη πληγή, ἢ κατὰ σιαγόνος, ἢ κατὰ A ἄλλου τινὸς τόπου τοῦ σώματος, κόλαφος λέγεται· ἀπὸ τοῦ κολάψαι τὸ μέρος, ὅ ἐστι πλῆξαι· ἐξ οὗ καὶ ὁ δενδροκόλαψ [ὀνομάζεται]· καὶ τό· Ἐκολάφισαν σε οἱ Ἰουδαῖοι. Κόλαφος [δὲ λέγεται] ἀπὸ τοῦ κολάψαι τὸ μέρος τὸ πληττόμενον, ὡς ὁ δενδροκόλαφος (a).
Περὶ δακτύλων
Χρὴ οὖν γινώσκειν, ὅτι ὅταν συνάγωνται οἱ τέσσαρες δάκτυλοι κατ' εὐθεῖαν, παλαιστὴ λέγεται· οἷον πελαστή τις οὖσα, ὅτι ἐκ τοῦ πέλας συνήγαγε τοὺς δακτύλους· ἢ δῶρον, παρὰ τὸ δωρεῖσθαι ἡμᾶς ἐν αὐτῇ· ἢ παρὰ τὸ μέτρον αὐτῆς· τὸ τρίτον γάρ ἐστι τῆς σπιθαμῆς· ὡς καὶ Ὅμηρος· B Τοῦ κέρα ἐκ κεφαλῆς ἐκκαιδεκάδωρα πεφύκει. Καὶ ὡς τό· Ἰδοὺ παλαιστὰς ἔθου τὰς ἡμέρας μου, ἀντὶ τοῦ μετρητάς. Κοιλαινομένη δὲ κατὰ βάθος ἡ παλαιστή, κοτύλη ὠνόμασται· ὅθεν καὶ τὸ, κοτυλήρυτον αἷμα· διὰ τὸ ἐν τῷ κοίλῳ τῆς χειρὸς ἀρύεσθαι. Διισταμένων δὲ τῶν δακτύλων, ἀπὸ τοῦ μικροῦ δακτύλου ἕως τοῦ ἀντίχειρος, σπιθαμῆς μέτρον ἀποτελεῖται· σπιθαμὴ δὲ, παρὰ τὸ ἀποσπασμὸν ποιεῖν τῶν δακτύλων, ἢ διασπάσθαι τὴν ὅλην χεῖρα. Ἡ δὲ σπιθαμὴ ποιεῖ μὲν παλαιστὰς τρεῖς, δακτύλους δὲ δώδεκα. Ἀπὸ δὲ τοῦ μεγάλου δακτύλου ἕως τοῦ λιχανοῦ μετακονδύλιον, δακτύλων δέκα. Καὶ ἀπὸ τοῦ ἀγκῶνος πρὸς τὸ τοῦ μέσου δακτύλου μετακονδύλιον, πήχεος μέτρον· ἀγκὼν δὲ εἴρηται ἀπὸ τοῦ C ἐγκεῖσθαι τῷ ἑτέρῳ ὀστέῳ· ἢ παρὰ τὸ ἀνέχειν, ὅ ἐστιν ἐξέχειν· πήχυς δὲ ἀπὸ τοῦ πεπηγέναι, ἢ περιχεῖσθαι ἄκρῳ τῷ βραχίονι. Ἐκταθεισῶν δὲ τῶν δύο χειρῶν ἐξ ἀλλήλων εἰς τὰ πλάγια, ὀργυιὰ λέγεται· διὰ τὸ ἐκτείνειν τὰ γυῖα, τουτέστι τὰ τῶν χειρῶν μέλη· τέτακται δὲ τὸ γυῖα καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν ποδῶν, ὡς Ὅμηρος· Γυῖα δ᾽ ἔθηκεν ἐλαφρὰ, πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὑπερθεν. Ἔχει δὲ ἡ ὀργυιὰ σὺν πλάτει τοῦ στήθους, πήχεις τέσσαρας· τηλικαῦτα δὲ κατὰ μέγεθος οὖσαι αἱ χεῖρες, κάτω ἐκταθεῖσαι οὐκ ἐφικοῦνται τῶν γονάτων, D ἀλλ' ἀποδέουσαι. Αἱ δὲ ἀποτελευτήσεις τῶν ἐν τοῖς δακτύλοις νεύρων.
νεύρων. A The nails exist, having been constituted for a double purpose: the one for the sake of beauty, and the other so that the ability to perform tasks involving the fingers themselves might be more expeditious. The nail (*onyx*) in Greek is so named, as it were *anonyx*, because it opens (*anoigōn*) the flesh in the process of its growth and protrudes through it; and they provide those who possess them with the means of scratching, to relieve the irritation of the skin; and by pressing against the ends of the fingers from behind, they stabilize their grip. In many animals, they have also been given as a means of defense, as in those with hooked talons, being like an instrument of the irascible faculty; and for certain other quadrupeds. In others, they are a means of defense and at the same time a support for standing, such as in horses and every solid-hoofed animal. The nail grows constantly, and when it falls off, it grows again; hence some even report that they grow after death in the bodies of humans that are being laid to rest, and the same is said to occur with the hair.
B Now, our fingers have not been allotted an equal length, because in this way they correspond better to beauty and are rendered more fit for movement. For if they were to end at an equal limit, not only would their constitution be unseemly and indecorous, but it would also appear quite awkward and weak for performing tasks, since when they were all applied equally to objects, it would often happen that they would be frustrated in their intended purpose. But because they are of unequal length, Nature has composed them with their little bones cohering to one another in succession, so that by providing strength to one another in turn, they might employ a more concentrated touch and be more adaptable, and in any given act, all together might become more powerful.
C One hand is called the right (*dextera*), while the other is called the left (*sinistra* or *laeva*). The left is so named from *leleiasthai*, which means to be separated from tasks, because of its being untaught; it is also called *aristera* (left) and *euōnymos* (of good name) by euphemism. For it is derived from *aristos* (best), so that *aristera* is—and from *kalōnymos*—*euōnymos*; we call *aristera* what is not in fact "best," but rather serves the other. It is also called *skaia* (left/awkward), from *skazein* (to limp) in performing tasks, or because it is weaker than the right; and the weak man limps—whence a *skaios* (awkward/stupid) man is one who is crooked in his mind and not upright. D The right hand is called the other, because we receive what is given to us by means of it for the most part; or it is called *dexia* (right), from passing through (*diexienai*) most tasks by means of it. Many have been found to be ambidextrous in their activities, doing the same with the left as with the right, and working with the left; while some, having the right hand hindered, manage technical tasks with the left. Whence it is demonstrated that the right hand is not superior to the left in any way, as some uneducated people say, but they were taught thus from the beginning by the training or lack thereof of those who possess them.
hand is not superior to the left in any way, as some uneducated people say, but they were taught thus from the beginning by the training or lack thereof of those who possess them.
B The inner parts of the hands, especially the tips of the fingers, we have received as it were as gnomons for the sense of touch: by these we accurately discern what is smooth, rough, equal, and unequal. Man, moreover, beyond other animals, is most exactly endowed with such a sensory organ. For the Creator did not only make the hands as an instrument for grasping objects, but also for the purpose of touch; for this reason, He covered them from within with finer skin and muscles; a part which He also wanted to be free of hair, so that they might detect objects of every kind as immediately as possible. Indeed, hands that are rougher, like those of farmers and oarsmen, are held to be stronger and more robust, but are slower and duller in the sense of touch. Those, however, that are softer, like those of writers and tailors, are weaker, but they use a more exact sense of touch. But there are also certain nerves that are rougher in movement, yet softer in sensation; and those that are soft are more accommodated to touch, and these we call the instruments of touch. For by the service of these instruments we recognize the hot and the cold, the moist and the dry, and the things that follow from these, through the sense of touch. And these are the things which, from the first constitution, are in the hands themselves by nature and training. That which pertains to the whole body, which in a certain respect is in the hands—a love which it is right to call by that name—does not escape even those who are ignorant of the nature of things. For when a toe happens to strike against a stone, then the hand immediately comes to that spot, and by clasping and soothing it, strives to relieve the pain. C If a foot is pricked by a thorn, the hand itself, by a skillful and active movement, turning itself all around, sets about extracting it; if at any time a louse has bitten our head, or a flea has fixed its sting in our back, the hand is carried most swiftly for the sake of taking revenge. In sum, it must be said that whatever part of our body happens to be oppressed by pain, whether obvious or hidden, the hand itself, by feeling around here and there, studies to bring some aid, since the providence of the supreme Creator has granted to the hands the first fruits of all actions and of any suitable movement, for the comfort both of ourselves and of others, so that it is not easy to go through everything one by one.
Chapter XXVIII-XXIX. — On the feet.
D But let us move from such varied work of the hands to considering the constitution of the feet and their very harmonious and serviceable actions; how the artisan of things constituted the feet themselves as an instrument delegated for the transit of the body. Then, how by their service we perform the change of location through the movement of transit. For the movement of transit, which is in all parts of the whole body, occurs with an impulse, in which office the power of the principal part of the soul obtains dominion.
A along with the spirits that extend into these, and moves the limbs; for this motive power is that which operates in the nerves and muscles, and supports the body; for it indeed supports it as a psychic power; but the whole body is itself carried along by the transition of the feet. For it was shown that all things which are moved by nerves and muscles are psychic and are performed at will. Likewise also all organic things; and organic things are examined according to shape, according to magnitude, according to number, and according to position. For even if the hand has a perceptive action, as the argument demonstrated later, it would not be well performed by it if the number of the fingers were not perfect, neither lacking nor in excess. And, indeed, the same applies to the shape, that it be spread out; and that the fingers not be equal in size; and regarding size, that it be neither too small nor too large; and regarding position, that it not be found outside its natural articulation.
Thus also, in the case of the feet, the Providence which wisely and skillfully arranges all things has accomplished this, and has given to each of the parts its B proper position. For, knowing that this animal—man, I say—was to use transitional movement to change places, it made some of the bones hollow, while to others it gave prominences, and inserted them into the cavities of the others, so that movement might then take place around them; and it bound these together with ligaments and with certain outer bonds—for the *amones* (which are certain prominences) are like walls preventing dislocations. Craftsmen do this with doors that are intended to be moved perpetually, fashioning certain smooth hinges, ensuring the ever-moving action of the doors. Thus, it articulated the spheres of the sockets—that is, what are called the gluteal [the hip joints]—with the sockets, maneuvering the movement of the thigh. The gluteal are therefore called the spheres of the sockets, and the sockets are where the heads of the thighs lie; and because of the cavity there, it is called a socket (*kotyle*). C But the gluteal, because of their softness and fluidity, are, as it were, unctuous; for these also are moist along with their smoothness, for the sake of the ease of turning and moving, just like hinges. For this is the work of articulation.
There are three types of it. The first is enarthrosis, which is called "fitting in," when the cavity receiving it has sufficient depth, and the head descending into it is somewhat long, just as the head of the thigh D and the socket. The second, *arthrosis*, is when the cavity is shallow and the head is low,
The third species of jointing is called ginglismos (hinge-joint): it occurs when the bones being joined together enter into one another, as happens in the vertebrae and in the jointing of the forearm with the arm. These rounded parts are sometimes called the head, sometimes the neck, sometimes the coronoid process, and sometimes the trochanter. The cavities are sometimes called acetabula (cups), and sometimes glenae (sockets), which are shallow cavities; the acetabulum is deep, while the glena is shallow.
The bone of the thigh, just like that of the arm, is the largest of all the bones in the animal. It is jointed above B towards the hip and the groin, and below towards the shin. It has above an epiphysis of a head that is perfectly spherical, and below it ends in two condyles. It is joined to the shin not only by membrane ligaments which encompass the entire joint in a circle, but also by three other round and strong ones. It is called the *meros* (thigh) because the body is divided at that part; for the length from the neck to the private parts is called the *olmos* (mortar) due to the spaciousness of the place, for when the hands are inclined, it resembles a mortar. The whole thigh in its shape is convex in the front and outer parts, but hollowed in the rear and inner ones. It has two outgrowths at the tip just below the neck which they call trochanters; the inner one is much larger than the outer one; the inner one is jointed into the groin, and the outer one into the acetabulum.
The bones of the leg C are two: one is called the *kneme* (shinbone) and the other the *perone* (fibula). The shinbone is in front and is large; the fibula is in the rear, falling short of the shinbone in both thickness and length. It is articulated with the shinbone at both ends, but in the middle they stand apart from each other. The shinbone is joined to the thigh, having a large epiphysis at its upper end, and it receives the thigh with two cavities upon which the thigh bone rests.
At the lower parts of the shin and fibula, the talus (ankle) is included. This whole part D from the knee to the talus is called the *kneme* (shin), named from the part that projects; as for that part of it which is fleshless and thin, in the front of the shin, it is called the *antiknemion* (shin-front). The part behind is...
A of the great muscles, the *gastrocnemion* (calf). As for the curved, entirely fleshless parts, and the bones exposed from the others, the many call these *astragaloi*—erring in the whole matter, for the *astragalos* is embraced by these on both sides. These are the extremities of the processes of the shin and the fibula; they are convex on the outside, as is evident, and concave on the inside. After these is the heel at the back; then the whole foot. The place toward the toes is called the *tarsos*; some call this the *ktena* (comb), or the *pedion* (sole/plain). That which is underneath the foot, they call the *pelma* (sole); then the toes, composed of three knuckles each, except for the big toe, for that is composed of only two bones. Upon the bone of the thigh and the fibula is placed the *epigonatis* (kneecap), being a porous and round bone, for which reason some call it the "mill" (*myle*), from the mechanism turned toward the outside and the similarity to a millstone, because the hollow of the joint is above, as is the upper part of the mill; into which are cast the seeds to be ground. It is called *epigonatis* because it lies upon the knee (*gonu*), or as it were an *epigounis*, as Homer also says: B *Such as the old man shows the kneecap through ragged clothes.*
The knee (*gonu*) is etymologized from *konein* (to hasten/work) and *energein* (to act); whence also *konata* or *gonata*—or because the leg is bent C like a corner. The *ignus* (ham/popliteal space) is what is called the part under the knee; because it is the cause to us of *ekneisthei*, that is, of being unfolded; or because of the bending in the flexions; or because it holds the knee together. The leg (*skelos*) was named from the *schesis* (relation/severing), for it is separated from the other; or from the *keleuthos*—which is the road by which we walk; or because it is hardened and is harder than the parts above. For the creating Nature has made the legs so that they might support the whole body, like certain columns, and convey it from place to place, having made the feet instead of bases; on which man, standing firm, changes places, goes through cities, performs tasks, and is loaded with burdens, and carries them, and transfers them. D Feet, from *kinein* (to move) and *energein* (to act), corner, *ignus*, from *ikneisthai*, that is, to be unfolded, because it holds the knee together, which is to bend toward the earth, *skelos*, from its being separated, because of the *keleuthos*, because it is harder than the parts above, to bend—so that assisting one another, they might perform one activity, common and blameless; but if ever one of them happens to be out of position, the movement of the animal becomes difficult, and its superior activity is lost. For this cause, tendons at the *ignus*, and muscles, and ligaments, and nerves encircle them; their movement... These feet, therefore, must be directed moderately toward the inside, so that, using mutual service, they may rightly perform the motion itself. If, however, it happens that one of them is distorted from its natural position, the motion itself is impeded, and that activity which is most excellent is destroyed. For this reason, also the nerves which are called tendons, which consist at the *ignus*, and the muscles and ligaments, and likewise the other nerves, encircle the feet themselves.
A For it is not only around its joints that this security exists, but everywhere; for the nerves of the shoulders and armpits, and of the hams and ankles, and all nerves that are moved by muscles and together with muscles, are called "tendons," from their stretching out the parts toward some action. Indeed, there are three differences among the nerves: for those originating from the brain and the spinal marrow are strictly called "nerves"; those from the muscles are "tendons"; and those from the bones are "ligaments." The place of the ankle-bone (astragalus) is also called the "malleolus," because it gathers the joints together in its composition; and the ankle-bone, like a sphere fixed to the bones and nerves, is so named B because it keeps the base of the foot steady and upright. The bone called "circular" surrounds the ankle-bone; in which is the so-called *kotzion*, fitted above by ligaments to the fibula, having the hollow-shaped structure lying beneath, and it is bound together with it toward where the base of the ankles and the heel is. For this latter underlies the eyebrow-like protrusions of the shin and fibula, and encompassing the rounded parts of the ankle-bone, it fits two certain protrusions into suitable cavities. The part of it in front is the beginning of what is called the *tarsus*. After it begins the *pedion* [the sole/metatarsus], composed of five bones; from which the knuckles of the toes receive their harmony, ending at the *metakondylia* [parts after the knuckles] which hold the nails. These are bound together at their articulations by certain membranous ligaments; but those at the ankle-bone and the heel are very strong, and circular, and fibro-cartilaginous.
C For there is in the foot generally not only co-articulation and de-articulation, but also a binding of nerves and a binding of cartilage; for much security was granted to it for the bearing of the whole body, and the carrying of weight, and the weight as it were imposed upon it, and all other functions. It is called *pous* [foot] from the fact that it has "ceased" [pepausthai] from the whole body, or as that which causes the body to cease and end. It is also called *ichnos* [trace/track] from "holding" [ischein] and holding together the whole foot; or from being held up from the earth. The *tarsus* was so named because of the dry and fleshless nature of that place; as Homer says:
D *But now, O goddess, having touched the tarsus of the foot, thou prayest in like manner*.
The *pedion* is the front part, so called because of its smoothness; and... [index: entries preserved]
as we call the sole of the foot. But the skin which is beneath the foot itself, because it is compressed and more constricted than the rest of the skin, they call the *pelma* [sole]. The heel [*calcaneus*] is so named by them because the entire body leans and falls upon it. We have said that the joints are called by them *arthra*, because it is clear that through these parts they are neatly adjusted to one another and come together. Or they wish them to be so called because they are fastened to one another by a certain concordant link, by which they come together and are tightened, and one offers aid to the other.
Chapter XXX — On the skin and the hair.
A And indeed the entire body is covered by a skin covering, of which one part is seen to be overgrown with hair, while another part is seen to be devoid of it. But in truth, of those parts which are hairy, the head, the chin, and the lips are possessed, which nature has covered with hair for the sake of both covering and adornment. But the hairs which are seen in the eyebrows and eyelids were created for the sake of protection; whereas those which arise under the armpits and at the privities have arisen from the chance of some event, not for the sake of protection, since the place for hair there is useless. And yet, not even for the sake of covering do hairs exist in those places, since the armpits are seen to be sufficiently protected by the hands and the ribs. But neither would I believe them to be established for any adornment, since nature does not know how to have a care for added adornment. For no desire is born in us for any thing whose beauty is hidden. B And we judge that hair is born thus by chance. For just as for a farmer, in the cultivation of his garden, the primary purpose is to irrigate useful herbs and fruit-bearing plants with constant watering, yet it happens also that thorns and other herbs, less useful and destined for hedges and other such use, are irrigated; in the same way, the vegetable faculty has prepared for the uses we have mentioned, hair and nails, to which it is constantly busy imparting nourishment, and growth, and indeed constitution; but the concretion of the smoky exhalations of our body arises as the cause of their constitution. And they are indeed called C hairs [in Greek, *trichas*] as though they were *therikes* [harvesters]; for *therix* and *thrix* [hair] are akin by syncope, because it is harvested and cut continuously. For nothing of those things which are in us springs outward as much as hair. In those places, therefore, where the body exists without hair, muscles clearly exist in those places. Just as on the palm of the hand and on the fingers, and on the sole of the feet; but where muscles are not the cause, hairs grow, in some places more, in others few. For the whole skin has truly become a covering and a mantle for the soft flesh and for all other things that are inward. D For the skin is by nature callous, having become calloused both by the surrounding air and by the things which it happens to encounter constantly. For the soft flesh is in one place simple, in another composite; and in one place, together with muscles and tendons.
A And it itself, just as the skin, is spread over the whole body, so that in summer it may provide refreshment to the animal by sending forth moisture from within, and in winter it may provide for them the need of thick wool. Flesh (*sarx*) is so called from the skin being stripped away (*syresthai*) from it. The skin, as the boundary (*terma*) of the body, is cast over the entire body from the outside; it is, as it were, a skin (*derma*), which holds the body together and binds it; or it is like a skin (*derma*), from the fact that it may be stripped away (*apoderesthai*), as in the case of animals; or it is like a body (*demas*), because the body is also called by this name, since it is a bond for the soul, or its outer covering and dwelling place. And the skin has been formed in the body for the sake of need alone, and not for action. For it provides no function to the animal, whether toward digestion, or toward the production of blood, or toward the distribution of food, or toward movement according to impulse, or toward any function at all, but, lying on the outside of all things, it receives the B superfluities of the whole body in a reasonable manner; whence it is as if perforated throughout for the sake of respiration and the excretion of sweat; and it is weaker than the other parts. For not all parts possess equal strength; but the more principal ones, and those which are, as it were, the sources of the body, were from the beginning made stronger and more robust, so that they might push away the vice resulting from an intemperate diet, and preserve the natural power.
C Man has fat (*pimelē*) in all parts of his body, both in the belly and in the intestines, but not suet (*stear*). For fat differs from suet, in that fat, while feeling the cold, remains uncurdled, whereas suet, at the same time as it coagulates, is also brittle; wherefore even the broths of those that are fatty do not coagulate, while those of the suety ones do coagulate, such as those of the ox, the goat, and the sheep. Now fat consists of the oily substances carried in the blood, from the fatter foods, which, settling in the colder parts of the body, coagulate. Fat is called *pimelē* from the coagulation of food; or, what fatness is, it is from the fact of "making fat" (*piainein*), moistening the limbs. The bond (*syndesmos*) is a nerve-like covering, having its origin from this, which is bound to the joints.
A membrane (*hymēn*) is a broad, nerve-like body; and the simple flesh is congealed blood. The blood is D hot and moist in its constitution; and in taste it is sweet; and it is called blood (*haima*) from *aithō*, "to burn."
A For there is no humor in our body warmer than blood. It renders the soul more cheerful in those in whom it abounds; yellow bile makes one quicker or bolder; black bile, more solemn and stronger; phlegm, more sluggish and harder. Phlegm is moderately thick in constitution and salty to the taste. Yellow bile, however, is thinner and bitter to the taste; black bile is sharp to the taste, yet thick in constitution and earthy. And blood is red in color; phlegm is white; yellow bile is pale; and the melancholic humor is black. For these are the humors kindred to the body, from which some simple parts have been formed, while others are organic or composite. And there belong to the similar and simple parts in essence heat, cold, dryness, and moisture; to the composite and organic parts, the harmony according to nature and the being well-composed, so that neither the eye is disturbed nor the foot limps.
The competent moderation of the temperaments must necessarily follow for the similar parts, so that in density or rarity, or in thickness or thinness, and in good or bad color, as well as in softness or harshness, there may be no excess. These substantial properties also must correspond in the organic parts regarding moderation, composition, number, and shape; for this is necessarily required in organic parts, so that each of them may correctly perform its assigned duties—namely, that the hand may move correctly in grasping things, the feet in walking, the ears in the power of hearing, and the eyes in no way fail in the faculty of sight. B Then also, as far as the body is concerned, a man is to be considered as having his own peculiar and proper virtue when, in his actions, thought, memory, imagination, senses, and the remaining things pertaining to the body, he is rendered free from all reproach.
For a man is then deemed rational by name (although he is naturally so) when, around the first septennium, he exhibits the most evident proofs of the rational faculty of the soul in uttering and rendering words. For the years that are below that time are held to be devoid of reason, imprudent, and full of foolishness. C But when he has completed another septennium, you may rightly call him perfect: for such an age is fit to procreate a being like itself. In addition, the time of the third septennium prescribes the increase of the body, for after the twenty-first year nothing is added to the size of the human body: such years, indeed, are called the vigor and flower of life. For the rational faculty is prescribed for the soul itself in the first septennium. But we have five senses: D sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch.
A Its vocal instrument is the tongue, which emits the voice itself. But we also speak of seven movements of the body, among which six are considered instrumental: upward, downward, forward, backward, to the right, to the left, and circular. Or alternatively: generation, increase, decrease, corruption, alteration, mutation, and stasis. And the excretions of the body are seven: tears, mucus, saliva, genital semen, dry excrement, moist excrement, and the sweat of the whole body. For just as, of all the things created in the nature of the universe, some were created for their own sake, and some both for their own sake and for others, as was shown in what preceded, so also in the parts of the animal, you will find this in those that are primary and those that are secondary. For these were fashioned primarily and in the first degree, and they are properly called natural. For those that are held to be principal, some indeed possess a certain authority from nature, and were established first.
The yellow bile exists both for its own sake and for another's; for it contributes to digestion, and the excrementitious matter is stirred up by it, and it becomes in a certain way one of the nutritive parts. Moreover, it provides heat to the body, even as the vital faculty suggests, but it also fulfills the office of cleansing the blood, so that on this account it is believed to have been constituted for the sake of another as well. The spleen also was created both for its own sake and for another; for its own sake, B because it is one of the nutritive parts and a receptacle for the black bile; but because it draws to itself the superfluous matter of the liver, and as it were cleanses it, it seems to have been brought into being also for the sake of another. The kidneys, too, are both a cleanser of the blood and a cause of the desire for intercourse. And the glands are as it were the vessels of the channels; and the flesh is a covering, and the skin in the same way is an outer garb; the bones serve as an armature; the nails exist for the sake of scratching and for grasping; and the hairs likewise for covering and ornament; the eyes for the sake of sight; the ears for the sake of hearing; the nose for the sake of breathing and smelling; the chest for the service of the heart; the hands for the aforementioned needs; and the feet for locomotion. C And the tongue for speech. Nature saw fit to restrain the tongue itself with a double fence—on account of its impulsiveness and lack of guard, and so that it might not outrun the thought—first by the density of the teeth, which encompass it like a wall or fortification, and second by the custody of the lips, which stand by it like a gateway, so that it might not rush into words rashly and as chance might have it. And to speak in summary regarding all things, nothing has been created by the Creator of the universe in vain or without some functional purpose.
D We say that all these and the remaining parts of the body are in good health and are in a proper state when they possess a good temperament in the similar and simple parts, and a moderate order in the composite and instrumental ones.
A For those things that are composite and instrumental are served by these simple parts. For instance, the heart is the origin of the body, and it is instrumental; therefore, the arteries and the thorax serve it. The arteries provide blood to the entire body, as well as the spirit derived from it; while the thorax, through its contraction and dilation, introduces pure air to it. The nerves and the spinal marrow serve the brain; the veins serve the liver; and the seminal ducts serve the testicles. For these are the origins of the body, as we have shown previously, and they are so called; whereas the cartilages found throughout the body are bodies that are softer than bone, but significantly drier than flesh. The glands are spongy bodies, softer than cartilage but harder than flesh. Their utility is varied. For some were placed as padding between vessels; others were placed at the base of vessels, such as veins and arteries; others were created for the sake of an operation, such as those in the breasts, which transform blood into milk; and those in the testicles, which produce the semen; and those in the throat, which necessarily produce saliva. For since the vocal organs, because of constant movement, dry out and thereby halt the voice and interrupt speech, for this reason the salivary muscles, along with the glands, are situated within the mouth to moisten the entire mouth and the windpipe, so that the voice and the use of speech, as well as the extension of words, may be rendered more vigorous and active. For if this had not been devised by the Artificer of nature, man would immediately become voiceless after even a small amount of speaking, or a few words, or insufficient singing. B But with these things thus arranged, a person is able to speak for quite a long time, and raises the voice to a high pitch, and maintains it in the sweetness of the voice, and delights and brings pleasure to those listening. For even if cicadas and nightingales and other animals soothe men with their voices, yet man does this in a way that is vastly different, as Homer, who was skilled in this matter, declared when he said: "Call the divine singer, To whom God above has granted song, To move it, wherever his spirit prompts him to sing." For man alone can distinguish and perceive the sweetness of the voice. And it is given to man alone to construct all kinds of musical instruments for the modulations of song and to devise various uses for delights. Man alone can send greetings to absent friends through letters. I say that man alone is endowed with the power of discernment and deliberation; and he alone is a risible animal, even if they say the ape mimics this. Man alone, through...
A vocal instruments, forms into articulate speech the things that are to be said and expressed, while other animals use an inarticulate voice. But some opine that the intelligences themselves, and the demons, also use rational speech, though not by means of vocal instruments, nor by the drawing of breath as we do. Man alone rises after death, and, though mortal, is rendered immortal. Man alone is a living being here B being provided for, and being transferred elsewhere. Man alone is known to exist between two living beings; and he is concerned for the present life, and provides for how he shall live, while for the future one he takes care that he might not fall out of it; he knows the one to be temporary, the other eternal. And he perceives the one to be full of passions, full of suffering, and full of tears; the other, passionless, painless, and full of great joy. As also Callimachus says: "Go the gentle way of women, which those who destroy the spirit do not traverse."
[Similar to the place where all pain, sorrow, and sighing have fled away.]
Man alone, when he stumbles here, is instructed, and by repenting is granted pardon by the Creator.Man alone is provided for by the Creator in a way different from other animals, and is deemed worthy of special care. C And so that, not knowing this, you might learn more and marvel at the magnitude of Providence, observe the permanence of all things, and especially the order and position of existing things which are always preserved for your sake amid generation and corruption. Likewise, the revolution of the stars, never once altering the cycle of the year; the restoration of the seasons; the equality of nights and days, each increasing or decreasing in turn; the multitude of plants and seeds; the difference and construction of animals; the works of the entire creation, and its proportion, harmony, and rhythm. And so that I might omit everything brought about for your sake by Providence and preservation, I shall explain D a few things concerning our form and aspect, which possesses a different variation, so that you may worship the Providence of your Master regarding you, and marvel at this work of His. For who, seeing the forms of men differing in so many myriad ways, and nowhere at all coinciding in everything, will not marvel at the work? But one who calculates the cause will find that, for the sake of Providence, the variation of form has been altered in each individual. Observe, for if everyone retained the same unvarying character, what confusion of affairs would have occurred! How...
great, indeed, the ignorance and darkness in which we would be moving if no faculty were given us to distinguish a known man from one unknown, a foe from a friend, an upright man from one wicked and criminal; for if matters were thus, nothing would prevent us from cohabiting with our parents and sisters. A If a thief, caught in the act of stealing, were to step aside a little and mingle with the crowd, he would escape, never to be recognized again. And neither children nor parents would have any means at all of acknowledging one another. Furthermore, nothing else in this mortal life could be rendered praiseworthy; for man, as far as man is concerned, would be in a way blind, since he would be given nothing to comprehend with his sight other than age and physical stature. Such great benefits, therefore, has the providence of the supreme Creator bestowed upon us through the variation and discrepancy in form among all things, and this He never ceases to effect—and not only in form, but in voices, colors, and ages—so that the weakness of human nature might perceive manifold help. For since it is plain to us, by the rational power with which we are endowed, with how much honor the providence of the supreme God and Creator has distinguished us, we must strive with all our might B so as not to defile our nature itself with turpitude, and appear utterly unworthy of so excellent a gift.
These things concerning our body, and its structure, constitution, formation, and composition, it seemed to me I had gathered, composed, and as it were woven and joined together. Nor is it sufficiently clear to us whether we have done this with art and skill, as befits a preeminent craftsman, or prudently, so that our work might be approved by many. For who is able to recount the power of the Lord sufficiently and according to its merit, or to make audible His praises and comprehend the unsearchable and incomprehensible ways of His paths, unless insofar as it has been given to man by His gift? But since, in this, we have shown our own judgment, we shall by no means deny that these things can be explained more accurately by anyone. And if anyone C observes this work with himself, he will be able to investigate many other things—even deeper things—than those which have been comprehended by us; yet, whatever matter he may deem should be added to the sequence of the present work, let him endeavor to bring it forward into the open alongside those which we have explained, namely: in what manner the face itself, the principal portion of man, is perforated with seven openings—that is to say, two eyes, two ears, as many nostrils, and, besides these, the opening of the mouth. Then, in what manner the brain, which is the receptacle of the senses, is held to be cold and moist beyond all other parts of the living creature; but also how thoughts are formed and do not slip away because of the moisture. To these questions, how it is that some D bodies are warm and others cold, and some a combination of both; how some are weak, others strong; how some are simple, others complex; how some possess innate powers, others adventitious ones, and some are both innate and adventitious at once; how each of them has four vital powers within itself; how, of the vessels, some send forth, some receive, some retain, and some filter; how nourishment sustains the body
and how it is destroyed if these are wanting. Furthermore, how the heart, since it imparts to the whole body the heat implanted in it by nature, never ceases from the performance of this office. Moreover, by what means food is turned into juice, and blood is purified, and the body derives nourishment, and dung is excreted, and moist excrement is passed. How, also, the members are bound together, and the parts are jointed, and limbs are articulated, and bones are put together; and why of the bones some are hard, others soft, some hollow, others without hollows, some having marrow, and others seen to be marrowless. How, also, of the nerves, some are distributed throughout the body for the sake of conjugation, while others are solitary or single; and in the same way, the veins and the arteries. Then, for what reason some of the parts or elements of the body were created for their own sake, and some for the sake of others. B Furthermore: for what cause all ages are not the same, nor are the appearances of faces, nor the similarity of voices, nor, for that matter, the equality of complexions held.
On the marvel of the human constitution, from the words of the Theologian
Verum, lest our discourse seem to weave the same thing over again with many words, we shall bring forward a sentiment from the words of Gregory, when he says: Marvel, he says, O man, at how you have been formed and composed, and how great the wisdom of God in creating you is, and what a mystery of nature is in this. Consider also how the mind is not divided by a measurable place, but, persisting in the same, wanders through all things. C Then, by what reason our vision, although it is slight and brief, is sufficient for things so remote and distant; and whether there is some representation of the visible object to the sight, or a transit of the sight to that object. And further, how that same thing moves and is moved which is governed by our will, and what is the rest of motion. By what means also the mind communicates through the senses with those things which are outside, and takes to itself things from without. Furthermore, by what means it receives the very species, and what is the preservation of those things which have been received, or memory. Then, by what means there is a resumption of a past thing, or reminiscence. To these, how the sense remains in itself and draws toward it that which is outside. Item, how speech is generated from the mind itself, and how it exists as a cause for speech to be generated in another mind. And by what means the intelligence of speeches is distributed; and how the body is nourished on account of the soul. By what means also the soul, on account of its communication with the body, is subject to passions, and what is the cause that, on account of fear, man congeals with cold, and by boldness is loosened, D and how thoughts are brought to bear by the blood, and from the panting, for the immaterial is held by the blood and breath.
And how this withdrawal of A the soul is an extrication; how the mind, while remaining within us circumscribed and indefinite, traverses all things with the speed of impulse and movement; what is the attractive force of nature; and what is the mutual relationship of those who beget and those who are begotten, so that they are held together by affection?
Furthermore, he who enters upon a study of such matters will be able B to philosophize, in addition to these things, about very many points concerning the parts and limbs, and their harmony with one another; their constitution for the sake of utility and beauty joined together; those that are contained and those that contain; those that are separated and those that are joined; all this according to the law and reason of nature. He will be able to explain much regarding sounds and hearing: how some are carried through the vocal organs, while others are received through the percussion and formation produced in the midst of the air. Much, too, regarding rest in sleep, or C the reformation, reasoning, anger, and desire. And to speak briefly, about all the things concerning this rational animal which the power of God, who wisely ordains all things, has made, and which His wisdom has excellently fashioned. And so excellently, that it was impossible for this living creature to be formed or to exist in any other way. For what would a mind so great accomplish with things that were not appropriate? And not only will you philosophize about such things, as has been said, but you will also marvel how, being of medium stature and condition, you have been born, and rule over those upon the earth, being ruled from above; and by your inclination toward God, being illumined by the moderate light of truth, you become wholly deified, and are transferred to things above, D leading a life higher than that of the one who bound, and loosed, and bound again, the worthy one. But also with the Prophet you will exclaim with amazement: "How magnified are thy works, O Lord! in wisdom hast thou made them all."
Of the elements.
To discuss the elements pertains to the natural philosopher. Therefore, it is necessary to leave aside the opinions of the ancient philosophers which they have brought forth concerning the elements to the latest time; and toward the one that is better
as Galen and Hippocrates of Cos say, we ought to incline. There are, therefore, four elements of the universe, which are also called worldly: fire, water, air, and earth. Fire is hot and dry; water is cold and moist; air is hot and moist; and earth is considered cold and dry. But also, the proximate elements of all animals, and indeed of human bodies, are likewise four in number: the four humors, clearly—blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. Blood, therefore, corresponds to the air, being hot and moist, just as that is. Phlegm corresponds to water, being cold and moist. B The yellow bile corresponds to fire, for it is hot and dry. The black bile corresponds to the earth, for it is cold and dry. Thus, these elements exist in us according to the musical ratios: the double, the sesquialter, and the sesquitertian; concerning which we must speak in a descriptive manner, so that they may be intelligible to those who do not know them.
A double number is that which contains in itself the number being compared more times, or once; as eight is to four, for it possesses the four in itself twice. The sesquialter number is that which has in itself the whole of the number being compared, and half of this; as six is to four, for it has in itself the whole of four, and the half of this. The sesquitertian number is that which has in itself the number being compared, and the third part of this, which is one. Thus, blood, which is friendly and life-giving, and congenial to our nature, has by hypothesis a double ratio to the rest. Phlegm has a sesquialter ratio, and yellow bile a sesquitertian. But the black bile is the least altogether. And it had to be so. For it is destructive to the animal, and the worst diseases arise from it. For when it overflows in our body, elephantiasis, leprosy, itches, alphos, scirrhous tumors, cancers, and cancerous swellings occur.
So also must it be understood concerning the elements of the world. For the air, as it has been said, corresponds to blood, being greater than the others, and by hypothesis it has a double ratio to the rest; for all psychic and vital power consists in this, as Aristotle says. Water, corresponding to phlegm, has a sesquialter ratio to the rest; for it is life-giving to most aquatic animals. D As for fire, it has no one seat, as the Stagirite says, but it is present everywhere, as the Creator. For a greater or lesser portion of fire is scattered in all things. Earth, being the least, is the center of the universe. Moreover, the ages of man correspond both to the elements of the world and to the proximate elements of animals and our own bodies. For the age of children, being hot and moist, corresponds to blood and air. The age of those at their prime, being hot and dry, corresponds to yellow bile and fire. The age of declining...
correspond to the nature of their bodies, they respond. For the age of childhood, since it is hot and moist, has a proportion to blood and air. But the age of vigor, which is considered hot and dry, obtains a proportion to black bile and fire. And that which has exceeded vigor, since it is considered dry and cold, falls under the proportion of black bile and earth. Old age, however, since it exists as humid and cold, we rightly deem to be referred to phlegm and water. Furthermore, the four seasons of the year respond by proportion to these same human ages: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. For spring, being hot and moist, corresponds to the age of children, to blood and air. Summer, being hot and dry, corresponds to the age of maturity, to yellow bile and fire. Autumn, being cold and dry, corresponds to the age of decline, and to black bile and earth. Winter, being moist and cold, corresponds to the age of the elderly, to phlegm and water. But even in diseases one might find a certain proportion equalizing them to those things mentioned above. There are, therefore, four humors: blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile; and there are four diseases that arise from these, when the humors naturally present are clearly altered: the tertian, the quartan, the quotidian, and the continuous fever occurring due to boiling. Now, the tertian, occurring from the putrefaction of yellow bile, is a hot and dry disease and corresponds to fire. The quotidian, produced from putrefied phlegm, is a cold and moist disease and corresponds to water. And the continuous fever, resulting from the boiling of blood, being hot and moist, corresponds to air. The quartan, produced from putrefying black bile, is a cold and dry disease and corresponds to earth. A
It must also be known that there are three kinds of nerves, C from which some have their origin from the brain, and these are called by the specific and proper name of "nerves." Others extend from bones to other bones, and you would call these ligaments. Some, however, originate from the muscles, and these are named tendons—these indeed are the extremities of the muscles. Since, however, pleasure and pain are considered to be the mothers of all the passions that are in us—for on account of pleasure we do base things, whereas for the sake of the other we abstain from such things. For those who commit adultery and indulge their appetites, when they have not proposed to themselves to practice continence and to abstain from these things, act because pleasure itself stimulates them to it. From such things, however, under the guidance of pain, they turn away, which compels us to use food moderately, to apply ourselves to labor, or to do something for the sake of praise, and to share goods with the poor, through the aid of virtue. Furthermore, of the things which fall under touch, there are eight certain pairings: hot, cold; dry, moist; heavy, light; rough, smooth; dense, rare; soft, hard; thick, thin; tenacious, C rigid; and that which is rigid, since it is dry, is opposed to the tenacious, as flour and dust are.
The cognitive faculties of the soul are five: mind, opinion, imagination, thought, and sense. But also digestion and indigestion are opposed to each other. For digestion can be divided in three ways: into roasted, boiled, and matured: for roasted is caused by heat which condenses; boiled, indeed, by heat which makes moist; but matured is the digestion of fruit, which is effected by the heat surrounding it. But also indigestion itself can be divided into as many parts: into warmed, defiled, and raw: for that which is warmed is said to be contrary to the roasted, which is as it were a kind of indigestion, while that heat cannot overcome the moisture itself as it dries it. But the defiled is opposed to the boiled, since it too is considered a kind of indigestion, because in that which is being cooked, the moistening element cannot in any way overcome the heating matter. Finally, the raw is also opposed to the matured, since the capacity to bring the fruit to maturity is cut off from the surrounding heat.
Chapter XXXI. On the soul
D Since man consists of soul and body, and this rational animal is the conjunction and perpetual coupling of both, come, let us discuss a few things concerning the soulA so that we may not appear to have omitted either part of the living being.
Let us begin from here. The soul is intelligent and spiritual: intelligent, insofar as it thinks intellectually; spiritual, insofar as it is immune from all mixture with the matter of the body. The actions of the soul relate to knowing and to living, because the soul has life inherent in it, while the body has it through communication; for the body is an instrument to the soul, and the soul is the substratum of the body. The movements of the soul are: sensation, intellection, and energy. The soul is moved in a circle, spirally, and in a straight line. The intellect is unerring in its judgment, grasping the initial objects of things, and taking hold of things in a way that surpasses demonstration; through these it is possible to perceive whither we are going, while we seek the way of demonstration.
The discourse concerning the soul does not teach what the soul is according to its essence, but manifests what it is not; for its essence is unknown and unrecognizable to us. How then, someone might say, if you know nothing about the soul, do you write about the soul? For it is absurd for someone who does not have a firm grasp of something to write or discourse about it. For one must first know the form of the letter B before proposing a knowledge of the elements to others. To which I respond: The things of God are indefinite, but also unknown according to essence; therefore we say that we know God, though we have not seen Him: as it is written, "I saw God upon a throne high and lifted up" (Isa. VI, 1); and, "I have seen God face to face" (Gen. XXXII, 30). But those who have seen Him did not say these things having seen God according to essence, but having been energized in such a way. Since "no man has ever seen God" (Joan. I, 18)—namely according to essence—neither those who were made in His image, nor those who stand by Him. Does he, therefore, who confesses that he does not know the essence of God, confess that he is ignorant of God? But he knows Him indeed from His operations—as, for example, omnipotent, all-seeing, good and philanthropic, creator and custodian and provider—yet he is ignorant of C what His nature is. However, one who is ignorant of the essence of God cannot therefore say that God does not exist; for this is the way of the foolish. For "The fool has said in his heart: There is no God" (Psal. XIII, 4). But we confess that God exists, and we say that we know Him from His works, but we do not promise to approach His essence.
Since, therefore, the soul is also according to the image of God, it escapes our comprehension; and that there is a soul in man, I know clearly, and from the holy Scriptures I have learned that it is immortal, according to the image of the Creator; but what its essence is, I posit as being beyond understanding. And so I know, and I do not know; yet not in the same way, but in one way I know, and in another I am ignorant; and rightly so. For if the essence of the image were comprehensible, while the essence of God is incomprehensible, this difference would D indicate an imperfection in the image.
A And it possesses the likeness to its archetypes precisely, as a true image. But if it be said that God is without beginning and unending, while the soul had a beginning—even if it shall not have an end—it falls short of being a true image; even this is not without a defense. Why? Because we call the likeness of the king an image, yet it is much different from the one who is perceived by the senses; and we are called gods, but not as He who is God by nature; and children of the Most High, but not in the way of the only-begotten Son; and an image of God, but not as the archetype—for many reasons, which only those who have attained to knowledge in understanding know.
Since, therefore, this is so, let us speak concerning what the ancient sages opined about it. For some of the philosophers declare the soul to be a body, and others, incorporeal. As a summary for all those who say the soul is a body—such as mind, or fire, or water, or blood, or air, or whatever else it may be—let the words of Ammonius the Pythagorean suffice, which are these: B “Bodies in their own nature, being perishable and in flux, and divisible to infinity in every way, with no immutable part remaining in them, have need of something that holds them together, and gathers them, and as it were binds and keeps them—which we call the soul. If, then, the soul is a body, of whatever sort it be, even if it be the most subtle, it still needs something else to hold it together; for it has been demonstrated that every body requires something to hold it together; and thus it goes to infinity. C But it is utterly irrational to seek a beginning for a beginning; therefore, the soul is not a body.”
But against those who say it is incorporeal, and who have not demonstrated it well, let Plato come forward, saying: “It is necessary for him who wishes to philosophize correctly to know well concerning the matter that is being examined, or else he will necessarily miss the whole point.” But you, in stumbling, what do you define? For you have that by which the individual things are seen, but not that by which the universals are seen. But also the Theologian Gregory says toward this purpose: D “No nature is, by reason of what it is not, but by reason of what it is; the posit of existence is not the negation of non-existence. For to say that the soul is incorporeal does not signify what it is, save perhaps that it is not a body.”
Dinarchus defined the soul as harmony, and the body as the lyre; but harmony admits of more and less, by being slacked and tightened; yet soul is not more or less than soul, nor even is it more or less than itself; therefore, the soul is not harmony. Furthermore, the soul admits of virtue and vice, and harmony does not admit of being well-tuned or untuned; therefore, the soul is not harmony. Furthermore, because the soul admits of opposites in turn, it is an essence and a subject; but harmony is a quality, and is in a subject; therefore, harmony is not the soul. Galen declares nothing [certain] concerning the soul; but from the words of Hippocrates he constructs that it is a mixture.
A But if this is so, he clearly considers it mortal too. That the mixture of the body cannot be the soul is evident hence: every body, both animate and inanimate, is compounded of the four elements; for the mixture of these produces bodies. If, therefore, the mixture of the body is the soul, nothing will be inanimate, and the argument concludes thus: if the mixture of the body is the soul, and every body has a mixture, then every body clearly has a soul; but if every body has a soul, there is not even one body that is inanimate; therefore neither a stone, nor wood, nor iron, nor anything else will be inanimate. Furthermore, if the soul is a mixture, and mixtures change according to the ages, and the hours, and diets, the soul therefore changes; and if it changes, we do not have the same soul, but now that of a lion, now that of a sheep, or of some other animal. Besides, the mixture B does not oppose the desires of the body, but actually cooperates with them; for it is what causes movement; but the soul opposes the desires. Therefore, the soul is not a mixture. Furthermore, if the soul is a mixture, and a mixture is a quality, and a quality both comes to be and ceases to be, without the destruction of the subject, then the soul also would be separated, and the body would not be destroyed; but this is not true. Therefore, the soul is not a mixture, nor a quality. Finally, all the qualities of a body are sensible, but the soul is not sensible, but intellectual; therefore, the soul is not a quality of the body.
Against those who say that the soul is a harmony C of health, and strength, and beauty, we argue thus: If the soul is a harmony of strength, and health, and beauty, it would be necessary for man neither to be sick, nor to be weak, nor to be misshapen; but it often happens that not one alone, but all three of these good mixtures are lost, and the man lives; for it happens that the same man is at once misshapen, and weak, and sick; therefore, the soul is not the good mixture of the body.
How then, they say, do certain natural vices and virtues follow in men? This comes about from the more true mixture of the body; for just as some are naturally healthy and sick according to their mixture, so some are naturally choleric and liable to D anger, others are timid, others lustful; but some overcome and prevail; it is clear that they prevail over the mixture; but that which prevails is one thing, and that which is prevailed over is another; therefore, a mixture is one thing, and the soul is another. For the body being an instrument of the soul, if it is prepared suitably, it cooperates with the soul; but if unsuitably, it hinders; and then the soul has need of efforts, battling against the unsuitability of the instrument, and if it is not very vigilant and is distorted along with it, just as a musician errs with the dissonance of the lyre, if he does not first set it right. Therefore, the soul has need of the care of the body, in order that it may fit it as a suitable instrument, which it elicits both through words and through habits, as in a harmony: now relaxing, now tightening
so that it may construct it as a thing suitable for itself and use it as an appropriate instrument. B Aristotle, calling the soul an entelechy, no less agrees with those who call it a quality. Pythagoras calls it a number moving itself; Xenocrates, a continuous number and an exhalation of the universe; the Manichaeans say it is immortal and incorporeal, but that there is only one soul of the universe, broken down and divided into individual bodies, animate and inanimate. Plato declares that there is both one soul and many souls; Cronius and Porphyry say all forms belong to one soul. Iamblichus at length, running to an opinion opposite to these, says that a species of soul exists in each individual species of living beings.
But let us pass by these men who refute one another, and let it suffice to demonstrate its immortality from the divinely inspired Scripture, which has certain proof in itself, since it contains the pronouncements of Christ and His disciples. For if it is not among those things that perish, it is incorruptible and immortal. C But some say concerning its union that all things joined into the subsistence of one substance are thoroughly united; and all things united are changed, and do not remain what they were before, as happens in the case of water and wine. Now how does the body, once united to the soul, still remain a body, or again, how is the soul, being incorporeal and subsisting in itself, united to the body and becoming a part of a living being, while preserving its own essence devoid of mixture and corruption? For it is necessary either that the soul and body be united and both be changed at the same time, or that they exist alongside, as dancers in a dance, or as a vote in a ballot. Or if it is incorporeal, how is it separated from the body? For nothing incorporeal is separated from a body; and indeed, an incorporeal thing does not adhere to a body; yet the soul adheres to the body and is separated from it.
We say, therefore, that it is true that the soul is separated from the body in death; but that an incorporeal thing does not adhere to a body is a statement false in general, though true in the case of the soul; for the soul is not bound to the body. It is false, since a line, which is incorporeal, adheres to a body and is separated from it; likewise also whiteness. D But it is true in the case of the soul; for the soul does not adhere to the body; for if it adhered, clearly it would be lying alongside it; but it is impossible for an incorporeal thing to lie alongside a body, whole to whole; so that the whole living being would not even be animate; but if the whole is animate, it neither adheres nor is separated, being incorporeal. But if it is not united, they say, nor lies alongside, nor is mixed, why is the animal called one, since in bodies the union of all things united works a mutation, inasmuch as they are changed into other bodies, just as the elements into mixtures, and all-
the rest of the members of the body? But in the case of intelligible things, union takes place, but mutation does not follow; for it is not in the nature of an intelligible thing to be changed in essence. And the soul, being life, if it were changed in the coagulation or union, would have been altered and would not be life; and what would it contribute to the body if it did not provide it with life? The soul, therefore, is united to the body, and it is united without confusion. B
That it is united is shown by sympathy; that it remains unconfused is not unknown. For when any of the existing things is considered by itself apart from the body, it does this by separating itself as far as possible; for being incorporeal, it has penetrated throughout into the things that are susceptible to decay. And having left these, it remains incorrupt and unconfused; and preserving its own purity by itself, even while turning those things in which it is towards its own life, and not being turned by them. For just as the sun by its presence transforms the air into light, making it light-like, and the light is united to the air without confusion and simultaneously diffused with it, in the same way also the soul, being united to the body, remains again unconfused; differing only in this respect, that the sun, being a body and circumscribed by place, is not everywhere that its light is, just as is also the case with fire; for it remains also in the wood or bound in the lamp-wick, as in a place; but the soul, being incorporeal and not circumscribed in a place, proceeds wholly through the whole together with its light, and marks out the substances of the body; and there is no part illuminated by it in which it is not wholly present; for it is not mastered by the body, but it itself masters the body; since it is not even in the body as in a vessel or a wineskin, but rather the body is in it. For even if the Prophet prays to God to lead it out of prison, he does not say this as if it had the body for a prison, but as existing in life in exile and in prison. For intelligible things are not hindered by bodies, but, even as distributed and diffused through the whole body and wandering, they cannot be confined to a place corporally. For such is the nature of intelligible things, being incorporeal and indivisible, both to be mixed with each other and with bodies. From this, I think, the soul is also afflicted by demons, by evil considerations and blasphemies, and by those things which it is not right to utter or even to conceive, especially when one is a Christian. D
However, Plato also deduces its immortality from its being always-moving, as follows: "The soul," he says, "is always-moving; that which is always-moving is immortal; therefore the soul is immortal." And since the soul is immortal, there are recompenses for evil and good actions; and if there are recompenses, there is that which is judged and that which judges; and if there is that which is judged and that which judges, there is that which is provided for and providence; and if these things are, the soul is therefore immortal.
Great Basil says: "Believe that God is invisible, since the soul also is invisible; for it is neither colored, nor shaped, nor is it contained by any corporeal character; but strictly by its energy..."
it is recognized; it has, moreover, a double energy according to the likeness of God, since it is His image. For God also has double energies: those of knowing all things that are, and those of providing for the things that are lower than Him; thus, therefore, the soul also has twofold energies: some are cognitive, such as mind, opinion, intelligence, imagination; others are vital and appetitive, such as will, temper, and desire. But the soul is physically mingled with the body through composition in accordance with this vital power, and it provides this not out of choice. For just as it is impossible for the sun, when shining, not to illuminate that upon which it casts its rays, so it is impossible for the soul not to animate and make alive the body in which it exists. But the contemplative power has its motion in choice. For the eye is the sight A of the body, but the mind innate to the soul is the sight of the soul; but not as one thing in another, but soul and mind are one and the same: a certain physical power, and not extraneous to the reason of the soul.
Aristotle says: "The mind, insofar as it is a faculty, is born together with man; but the active mind comes into us from without, and advances the science and knowledge of nature. Therefore, our mind is something perfect and principal; but of the soul and body through the progress of science and consideration."
Plato does not seem to say that man is the composite of both soul and body, but the soul using such a body, philosophizing more fittingly concerning man, and calling us back to the sole divinity and care of the soul, so that, believing ourselves to be the soul, we may pursue the goods of the soul, virtues and piety; and not love the desires of the body, B which are not of man, but of the animal primarily, and secondarily of man.
Having philosophized on this passage one day, the Ambraciot, in an evil manner, as if the separation of the soul from the body were the best thing, cast himself into the sea, becoming the murderer of himself, just as the Theologian Gregory says: "The leap of Cleombrotus the Ambraciot, philosophized upon in his discourse Concerning the Soul," just as he also says elsewhere: "For the soul is called by a feminine name, but it differs from every feminine habit and nature: it has neither masculine nor feminine essence. C But God sends His light into it, and it is illuminated; for what the sun is to sensible things, this God is to intelligible things: the former illuminates the visible world, the latter the invisible. Therefore the soul is invisible, not to God and the angels, but to us all who are fashioned from clay, D and each one of us is called a small world; for the world has all things arranged and ordered within itself; and they call man a little world relative to this sensible and great world. Yet even if this one is great and laudable and daily declares and teaches the glory and power of God as a lau-
- A dent, silent proclaimer of great works, and a loud-voiced herald, he is nonetheless far more ignoble than the small and sensible world. For the one is the subject of sense, the other is the possessor of sense; the one is governed, the other possesses free will; the one is alien to God in that it falls under sense, while the other is akin to God and to an intellectual nature; and man is as a mixture of both, and a sign of greater wisdom and of the munificence concerning nature. And as the world exists for the sake of man, man exists so that he may persist and glorify his Benefactor. But if I am for the glory of God, and the world is for me—just as the forceps are for the sake of the smith’s work, or the saw for the sake of the door—as the Theologian says, I obtain the cause; for by as much as God is more excellent than created things, by so much are those things which were made for my sake more ignoble than I, who exist for God’s sake: for that for which something exists is better and more honorable than that which exists for the sake of another. B
Man is significant of two worlds, the visible and the invisible, to those who are able to understand; for he consists of two natures. And even if he shows two natures within himself, he is not two natures, but from two. For just as a body, whatever it may be, consists of fire and air, water and earth, yet you would not say that the same body is fire, nor air, nor anything else, but rather such-and-such a thing—for instance, a stone or wood—in the same way also a body that is animate, rational or irrational, you will not call blood, nor phlegm, nor bile; for it is not the same as the things from which it consists. Since the definition of the composite differs from the things of which it is composed, so also man, even if he is from soul and body, yet is something other than the things from which he consists; and he reasons by one faculty, but performs that which was reasoned by another. For having reasoned with his rational soul, perchance on the construction of a house, he brings what he has thought through to completion with his C hands.
That he is something other than what he is composed of, consider it thus: we build a house from different materials, but no one would say that it is the same thing as the materials from which it consists. For a house is not simply stones and wood and the rest; if this were so, one would justly call the materials, while still divided before the construction, a house. But the specific joining of these materials to one another is what naturally produces the house for us. Therefore, when the house is destroyed, the materials indeed remain, continuing to possess their own definition; but we say that the house, which such a joining of materials had produced, has perished. So also in the case of man: even if he exists from soul and body, he would not be the same as the things from which he consists, but something else, so that man is from the very junction of soul to body—a third thing, being brought to pass. And this is evident from the fact that, when the separation of these takes place, the body remains, preserving its own definition—for it is capable of being D extended in three dimensions, even if it be dead; and the soul likewise remains rational and intellectual, even if it is separated from the body; but the man whom the joining of both had brought to pass has perished.
A Some say that because the body is divided in three dimensions, the soul also is divided in three dimensions, and for this reason it is also a body. To such we say: every body is divided in three dimensions, but not everything that is divided in three dimensions is a body. For quality and quantity, though incorporeal in themselves, are viewed B by accident as possessing bulk; so too, while the soul is indivisible in itself, it is considered in three dimensions by accident because it is in union with man, who is divided in three dimensions.
It is said that the soul is moved by the passions of the body; for it appears to sympathize, and even to experience the suffering beforehand. For often it is seen to tremble at the wounding of the body, and it is altered even before the suffering of the body; and after the wounding, it feels the pain no less. And when the body is sick, it is sick with it, and as it is cut, it is cut with it; and being ashamed, it shows a red complexion, and being afraid, it turns pale. But nothing incorporeal sympathizes with a body, nor a body with an incorporeal thing. Now the soul sympathizes with the body: therefore the soul is a body. But this is a prejudice, for one might say: what if this pertains only to the soul? Yet it is doubted whether the body alone, having received from the soul the faculty of feeling, is the thing that suffers pain—while the soul remains impassible—or whether it also feels pain along with the body; and among those who are more intelligent, the former opinion prevails.
Now we see that certain incorporeal things also sympathize with bodies: for qualities, although they be incorporeal, when bodies suffer, they also sympathize, and they change along with the body in its destruction and generation. C Understanding, which is a quality or accident, is changed in the soul; for the soul is not in the understanding, but the understanding is in the soul, since if the soul is taken away, the understanding is also taken away. For where the soul is not, in what will the understanding be? But when the understanding is taken away, the soul is not altogether taken away; without a doubt, the soul seems to exist outside of the understanding.
The soul, therefore, is substance and subject, but the understanding is quality and accident; and an accident is that which comes and goes without the destruction of the subject. But the substance of those things which exist simply signifies existence, that is, that they are simply. For all things that are are said to be, namely, angels, souls, animals, plants, and stones. This, therefore, is common to all things that truly are. The name of substance, therefore, pertains to things insofar as they are; but the name of nature indicates the motion of those things which are simply. For we see that all things are moved, and nothing of those things which have been made is without motion. D Therefore they call the existence of those things which are simply their substance, but their motion they call their nature.
Now nature is fivefold, namely, spiritual, or rational, or sensual, or vegetable, or inanimate. And
Spiritual is, for example, the case in angels, who commune with one another by thought alone. Rational is the case in men, who by names and words make known the invisible movements of the soul to those outside. Sensual is that which is observed in irrational creatures; for besides the nutritive, augmentative, and generative powers, irrational animals also possess the power of sensation. Vegetable is that in plants; for they too move according to these same powers. As for inanimate things, in a way they too move according to quality and place: according to quality, in that they are heated and cooled; according to place, in that they are transferred from one place to another. B Therefore, they define substance as a self-subsistent thing, having no need of another for its existence; and nature as the principle of motion and rest for all things that exist.
Nature is so called from being born, while subsistency (or essence) is derived from subsisting. Now subsistency indicates not only that a thing is, but also how it is and what kind of thing it is; for example, all men have in common the fact that they are, for in the same way we all live, move, and exist. But each of us has certain proper characteristics by which he is distinguished from other men, for example, country, family, name, profession, actions, feelings, beauty or deformity, and such like things, which we call accidents. All these things, therefore, C are considered in the subsistency, and are one and the same thing; for example, Meletius, when only his existence is being considered, is called substance; but when he is considered together with the aforementioned traits, he is called a subsistency, or an individual. Thus, the subject is one and the same—both substance and subsistency; yet the notion of substance does not simultaneously include the subsistency, whereas the notion of subsistency contains everything, including the substance.
They define subsistency, therefore, as follows: Subsistency is something subsistent and substantiated, in which the complex of accidents subsists as in some subject and in act. In a similar way also with the individual. They say: "An individual is a composite formed of qualities, the complex of which will be found in no other." And it is well stated, "in no other," for the qualities of Meletius, insofar as he is an individual, cannot be conceived of in any other; for example, that he is a Byzantine, D that he is a physician, that he is grey-eyed, that he is snub-nosed, that he suffers from gout, that he has a certain scar on his forehead, that he is the son of Gregory. For all these things, gathered together, produce my Meletius, and it is impossible that they be conceived in any other person; for there are many differences among individuals.
Again, they define a person as follows: A person is that which, through its own proper actions and characteristics, presents a distinct appearance from those of the same nature. Therefore, if we see someone manifesting himself to us through some action, we are accustomed to call this an acting person. Thus, my Meletius, when he ex plo
exploits, or draws blood, or burns someone, shows himself to be distinct from the other brethren; so that he who is distinguished from the others through his own proper actions is called an individual person, doing such things. But this action, when it is no longer the case that it is performed exclusively by Meletius—such as reading or drawing blood—but also by Stephen and Nicholas, is of a rational nature, and not of another; for things that possess the same energy B are wont to be of the same substance, and it is improbable and impossible for something to be otherwise when it is a question of things that are of a diverse nature. On the other hand, no sensible person would grant that things which are heterogeneous and of a diverse nature possess the same energy; for fire does not cool, nor does ice heat. Indeed, the definition of energy is manifold.
For energy is said, first, to be the thought subsisting in the mind; and it is a simple and necessary energy of the mind, which invisibly revolves its own thoughts within itself, without which one could not even be called a mind. Again, energy is said to be the manifestation and explanation of thoughts that occurs through the utterance of speech; but this is no longer unconditioned and simple, but considered in relation. For the actual relation, which the agent has towards that which is being done, is a kind of energy, and likewise that which is done is also such. For instance, my mind foresaw the scar of the wound, my hand performed the surgery, and the cause disappeared: does not each of these appear to you to be energetic? You will surely say that it belongs to the operator. It is certainly the task of the soul simply to think, regarding the cause, but of the soul and body to heal; the end of the energy, however, is that the sick person might recover health. Now if you were to call our very human life, by which we are propelled to desire food and drink, an energy, you would by no means err.
Life, therefore, is also an energy, and indeed the primary animal energy; now if it is not an energy, it will altogether be a passion; but a passion is an energy that is a movement contrary to nature, which is absurd; therefore, life is altogether an energy. Will, too, originating from the mind, is an energy; for the mind is the primary cause of its own movements and thoughts; but the quality of the movements is the will, directed toward whatever it may be. Now, insofar as it is will, it is indeed simply one, but it is altered by the qualities and differences of things. Therefore, the substance of the soul and the inclination of the body are not one and the same; but the former is the work of God, while the latter is a propensity arising from us ourselves toward that which we strive to move it. For the will, by itself, is an innate thing and derives its origin from God; but such or such a will pertains to us and to our own arbitration.
Deliberation, moreover, is a disquisition about things to be done: for we deliberate concerning things that are indifferently possible. Now, things that are indifferently possible are those which we can either do or not do; for example, to walk, and
not to walk; to sail, and not to sail; A for in these and similar matters deliberation is occupied. Now that which, after deliberation has been instituted, we have thought fit to prefer, we propose to ourselves. Therefore, "propositum" [choice] is a composite thing, consisting of deliberation, judgment, and inclination. For that is called "preferred" which is to be placed before another. But no one thinks anything is to be preferred unless he has first deliberated, nor does he choose unless he has judged. When, therefore, to that which we have judged to be preferred, inclination is added, then it is called "propositum." From these it is brought about that the *propositum* is an inclination of our will. For we approach that which we have preferred, judgment having been instituted, by the aid of the will, inasmuch as we are masters of our *propositum* and will, and are rational substances.
"Consubsistent" [enypostaton], however, is strictly that which does not subsist by itself, but is viewed in substances: B as our form, or human nature, which is not perceived in its own substance, but in Athanasius, or Meletius, or Cyriacus the scribe, and in the rest of human substances: or that which is combined with another thing differing in essence to form a whole, and produces one composite essence. Man, for example, is composed of soul and body; yet neither the soul alone is a substance, nor the body, but they are in a substratum; but that which is produced from both is the substance of both. Since, therefore, this dissertation also is, after the manner of a substance, gathered and composed from consubsistent elements—for a long and explanatory discourse is like a living body, C representing the soul by the things set forth in it, but the body by the diction—let there be glory and thanks to the Lord our God, who is the author and helper of all good things. Amen.