---
title: "On the Face Which Appears in the Orb of the Moon · De facie quae in orbe lunae apparet"
author: "Plutarch"
translator: "A. G., rev. William W. Goodwin"
languages: [grc, en]
shelf: "Philosophy"
section: 3 of 4
url: https://scriptura.si/works/plutarch-face-in-the-moon/3/
cite: "Plutarch, tr. A. G., rev. William W. Goodwin, On the Face Which Appears in the Orb of the Moon · De facie quae in orbe lunae apparet, section 3. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/plutarch-face-in-the-moon/3/"
---

# On the Face Which Appears in the Orb of the Moon · De facie quae in orbe lunae apparet

*Plutarch, tr. A. G., rev. William W. Goodwin*

What are the dark marks on the moon? Astronomy, physics and a myth of souls on the moon.

> Greek: ed. Grēgorios N. Vernardakēs, from the Perseus Digital Library (canonical-greekLit, tlg0007.tlg126, CC BY-SA 4.0).

> English: A. G., rev. William W. Goodwin, from the Perseus Digital Library (tlg0007.tlg126.perseus-eng4). Notes are not included.

> Rows follow the references the two texts share (chapters and sections), cut where both reach the end of a sentence.

## 3. Sections 21–25

Source: https://scriptura.si/works/plutarch-face-in-the-moon/3/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/plutarch-face-in-the-moon/3/#p-N

[¶0] 21. As soon as Lucius had said these things, Pharnaces and Apollonides ran both together upon him, to oppugn and refute his discourse; and then Apollonides giving him way, Pharnaces said: This it is that principally shows the moon to be a star and of a fiery nature, that in her eclipses she is not wholly obscured and disappearing, but shows herself with a certain coal-resembling color, terrible to the sight, yet such as is proper to her. As for Apollonides, he insisted much in opposition to the word shadow, saying, that the mathematicians always give that name to the place which is not enlightened, and that heaven admits no shadow. To this I thus answered: This instance is rather alleged obstinately against the name, than naturally or mathematically against the thing. For if one will not call the place obfuscated by the opposition of the earth a shadow, but a place deprived of light, yet be it what it will, you must of necessity confess that the moon being there becomes obscure; and every way, said I, it is a folly to deny that the shadow of the earth reaches thither from whence the shadow of the moon, falling upon our sight here on earth, causes the eclipse of the sun. And therefore I now address myself to you, Pharnaces; for this coal-like and burnt color of the moon, which you affirm to be proper to her, belongs to a body that has thickness and depth. For there is not wont to remain any relic, mark, or print of flame in a body that is rare, nor can a coal be made where there is not a solid body which may receive into it the heat of the fire; as Homer himself shows in a certain passage, where he says,
Then, when the languid flames at length subside,
He strows a bed of glowing embers wide.
For the coal seems not properly a fire, but a body enkindled and altered by the fire, which stays and remains in a solid firmly rooted mass; and whereas flames are the setting on fire and fluxions of a nutriment and matter, which is of a rare substance, and by reason of its weakness quickly dissolved and consumed; so that there could not be any more evident and plain argument to demonstrate that the moon is solid and earthly, than if ’her proper color were that of a coal. But it is not so, my friend Pharnaces; but in her eclipses she diversely changes her colors, which the mathematicians, determining with respect to the time and hour, thus distinguish. If she is eclipsed in the evening, she appears horribly black until the middle of the fourth hour of the night; if about midnight, she sends forth this reddish and fire-resembling color, and after the middle of the eighth hour, the redness disappears; and finally, if about the dawning of the morning, she takes a blue or grayish color; which is the cause why she is by the poets, and particularly by Empedocles, called Glaucopis. Since then they clearly see that the moon changes into so many colors in the shadow, they do ill to attribute to her only that of a burning coal, which may be said to be less proper to her than any other, being only a small remnant and semblance of light, appearing and shining through a shadow, her own proper color being black and earthy. And since that here below, red and purple garments, and rivers and lakes, which receive the rays of the sun, cause neighboring shady places to take the same appearances of colors and to be illuminated by them, casting and sending back by reason of reflections several rebated splendors; what wonder is it if a copious flux of shadow, falling as it were into an immense celestial sea of light, not steady and quiet, but agitated by innumerable stars, and besides admitting several mixtures and mutations in itself, takes from the moon the impression sometimes of one color, sometimes of another, and sends them hither to us? For it is not to be denied but that a star of fire cannot appear in a shadow black, gray, or violet; but there are seen upon hills, plains, and seas, several various resemblances of colors, caused by the reflection of the sun, which are the very tinctures that brightness mixed with shadows and mists, as if it were with painters’ colors, brings upon them. And as for the tincture or colors of the sea, Homer has indeed in some sort endeavored to name and express them, when he sometimes terms the sea violet-colored or red as wine, at other times the waves purple, and again the sea blue, and the calm white. As for the diversities of tinctures and colors appearing upon the earth, he has, I suppose, omitted them, because they are in number infinite. Now it is not probable that the moon has but one superficies all plain and even, as the sea; but rather that of its nature it principally resembles the earth, of which old Socrates in Plato seemed to mythologize at his pleasure; whether it were, that under covert and enigmatical speeches he meant it of the moon, or whether he spake it of some other. For it is neither incredible nor wonderful, if the moon, having in herself nothing corrupt or muddy, but enjoying a pure and clear light from heaven, and being full of heat, not of a burning and furious fire, but of such as is mild and harmless, has in her places admirably fair and pleasant, resplendent mountains, purple-colored cinctures or zones, and store of gold and silver, not dispersed here and there within her bowels, but flourishing in great abundance on the superficies of her plains, or spread all over her smooth hills and mountains. And if the sight of all these things comes to us through a shadow, sometimes in one manner and sometimes in another, by reason of the diversity and different change of the ambient air, the moon does not therefore lose the venerable persuasion that is had of her, or the reputation of divinity; being esteemed by men a heavenly earth, or rather (as the Stoics say) a troubled, thick, and dreggish fire. For even the fire itself is honored with barbarian honors among the Assyrians and Medes, who through fear serve and adore such things as are hurtful, hallowing them even above such things as are of themselves indeed holy and honorable. But the very name of the earth is truly dear and venerable to every Greek, and there is through all Greece a custom received of adoring and revering it, as much as any of the Gods. And we are very far from thinking that the moon, which we hold to be a heavenly earth, is a body without soul and spirit, exempt and deprived of all that is to be offered to the Gods. For both by law we yield her recompenses and thanksgivings, for that we receive of her and by nature we adore what we acknowledge to be of a more excellent virtue and a more honorable power; and therefore we do not think that we offend in supposing the moon to be earth. Now as to the face which appears in her, as this earth on which we are has in it many great sinuosities and valleys, so it is probable that the moon also lies open, and is cleft with many deep caves and ruptures, in which there is water or very obscure air, to the bottom of which the sun cannot reach or penetrate, but failing there, sends back a dissipated reflection to us here below.

> Greek: 21. εἰπόντος δὲ τοῦτο τοῦ Λευκίου, συνεξέδραμον ἅμα πως τῷ λόγῳ ὅ τε Φαρνάκης καὶ ὁ Ἀπολλωνίδης εἶτα, τοῦ Ἀπολλωνίδου παρέντος, ὁ Φαρνάκης εἶπεν, ὅτι τοῦτο καὶ μάλιστα τὴν σελήνην δείκνυσιν ἄστρον ἢ πῦρ οὖσαν· οὐ γάρ ἐστι παντελῶς ἄδηλος ἐν ταῖς ἐκλείψεσιν, ἀλλὰ διαφαίνει τινὰ χρόαν ἀνθρακώδη καὶ βλοσυράν, ἣτις ἴδιός ἐστιν αὐτῆς. ὁ δʼ Ἀπολλωνίδης ἐνέστη περὶ τῆς σκιᾶς ἀεὶ γὰρ οὕτως ὀνομάζειν τοὺς μαθηματικοὺς; τὸν ἀλαμπῆ τόπον σκιάν τε μὴ δέχεσθαι τὸν οὐρανόν. ἐγὼ δὲ τοῦτο μὲν ἔφην πρὸς τοὔνομα μᾶλλον ἐριστικῶς ἢ πρὸς τὸ πρᾶγμα φυσικῶς καὶ μαθηματικῶς ἐνισταμένου· τὸν γὰρ ἀντιφραττόμενον ὑπὸ τῆς γῆς τόπον εἰ μὴ σκιάν τις ἐθέλοι καλεῖν ἀλλʼ ἀφεγγὲς χωρίον, ὅμως ἀναγκαῖον ἐν αὐτῷ τὴν σελήνην γενομένην …. καὶ ὅλως ἔφην εὔηθές ἐστιν ἐκεῖ μὴ φάναι τῆς γῆς ἐξικνεῖσθαι τὴν σκιάν, ὅπου ἡ σκιὰ τῆς σελήνης ἐπιπίπτουσα τῇ ὄψει καὶ διήκουσα πρὸς τὴν γῆν ἔκλειψιν ἡλίου ποιεῖ. πρὸς; σὲ δέ, ὦ Φαρνάκη, τρέψομαι· τὸ γὰρ ἀνθρακῶδες ἐκεῖνο καὶ διακαὲς χρῶμα τῆς σελήνης, ὃ φῂς ἴδιον αὐτῆς εἶναι, σώματός ἐστι πυκνότητα καὶ βάθος ἔχοντος· οὐδὲν γὰρ ἐθέλει τοῖς ἀραιοῖς ὑπόλειμμα φλογὸς οὐδʼ ἴχνος ἐμμένειν οὐδʼ ἔστιν ἄνθρακος γένεσις, οὗ μὴ στερέμνιον σῶμα, δεξάμενον διὰ βάθους τὴν πύρωσιν καὶ σῷζον· ὥς που καὶ Ὅμηρος εἴρηκεν
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πυρὸς ἄνθος ἀπέπτατο, παύσατο δὲ φλὸξ
ἀνθρακιὴν στορέσασα
ὁ γὰρ ἄνθραξ ἔοικεν οὐ πῦρ ἀλλὰ σῶμα πεπυρωμένον εἶναι καὶ πεπονθὸς ὑπὸ πυρός, στερεῷ καὶ ῥίζαν ἔχοντι προσμένοντος ὄγκῳ καὶ προσδιατρίβοντος· αἱ δὲ φλόγες ἀραιᾶς εἰσιν ἔξαψις καὶ ῥεύματα τροφῆς; καὶ ὕλης, ταχὺ διʼ ἀσθένειαν ἀναλυομένης· ὥστʼ οὐδὲν ἂν ὑπῆρχε τοῦ γεώδη καὶ πυκνὴν εἶναι τὴν σελήνην ἕτερον οὕτως ἐναργὲς τεκμήριον, εἴπερ αὐτῆς ἴδιον ἦν ὡς χρῶμα τὸ ἀνθρακῶδες. ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἔστιν, ὦ φίλε Φαρνάκη· πολλὰς γὰρ ἐκλείπουσα χρόας ἀμείβει καὶ διαιροῦσιν αὐτὰς οὕτως οἱ μαθηματικοὶ κατὰ χρόνον· καὶ ὥραν ἀφορίζοντες ἂν ἀφʼ ἑσπέρας ἐκλείπῃ, φαίνεται μέλαινα δεινῶς ἄχρι τρίτης ὥρας καὶ ἡμισείας· ἂν δὲ μέσῃ, τοῦτο δὴ τὸ ἐπιφοινίσσον ἵησι καὶ πυρωπόν· ἀπὸ δʼ ἑβδόμης ὥρας καὶ ἡμισείας ἀνίσταται τὸ ἐρύθημα· καὶ τέλος ἤδη πρὸς ἕω λαμβάνει χρόαν κυανοειδῆ καὶ χαροπήν, ἀφʼ ἧς δὴ καὶ μάλιστα γλαυκῶπιν αὐτὴν οἱ ποιηταὶ καὶ Ἐμπεδοκλῆς ἀνακαλοῦνται. τοσαύτας οὖν χρόας ἐν τῇ σκιᾷ τὴν σελήνην λαμβάνουσαν ὁρῶντες οὐκ ὀρθῶς ἐπὶ μόνον καταφέρονται τὸ ἀνθρακῶδες, ὃ μάλιστα φήσαι τις ἂν ἀλλότριον αὐτῆς εἶναι καὶ μᾶλλον ὑπόμιγμα καὶ λεῖμμα τοῦ φωτὸς διὰ τῆς σκιᾶς περιλάμποντος· ἴδιον δὲ τὸ μέλαν καὶ γεῶδες. ὅπου δὲ πορφυρίσιν ἐνταῦθα καὶ φοινικίσι λίμναις τε καὶ ποταμοῖς δεχομένοις ἣλιον ἐπίσκια χωρία γειτνιῶντα συγχρῴζεται καὶ περιλάμπεται, διὰ τὰς ἀνακλάσεις ἀποδιδόντα πολλοὺς καὶ διαφόρους ἀπαυγασμούς, τί θαυμαστὸν εἰ ῥεῦμα πολὺ σκιᾶς· ἐμβάλλον ὥσπερ εἰς πέλαγος οὐράνιον οὐ σταθεροῦ φωτὸς οὐδʼ ἠρεμοῦντος ἀλλὰ μυρίοις ἄστροις ἐλαυνομένου μίξεις τε παντοδαπὰς καὶ μεταβολὰς λαμβάνοντος, ἄλλην ἄλλοτε χρόαν ἐκματτόμενον ἀπὸ τῆς σελήνης ἐνταῦθʼ ἀποδίδωσιν; ἄστρον. μὲν γὰρ ἢ πῦρ οὐκ ἂν ἐν σκιᾷ διαφανείη μέλαν ἢ γλαυκὸν ἢ κυανοειδές· ὄρεσι δὲ καὶ πεδίοις καὶ θαλάσσαις πολλαὶ μὲν ἀφʼ ἡλίου μορφαὶ χρωμάτων ἐπιτρέχουσι καὶ σκιαῖς καὶ ὁμίχλαις, οἵας φαρμάκοις γραφικοῖς μιγνύμενον ἐπάγει βαφὰς τὸ λαμπρόν· ὧν τὰ μὲν τῆς θαλάττης ἐπικεχείρηκεν ἁμωσγέπως ἐξονομάζειν Ὅμηρος ἰοειδέα καλῶν καὶ οἴνοπα πόντον, αὖθις δέ πορφύρεον κῦμα γλαυκήν τʼ ἄλλως θάλασσαν καὶ λευκὴν γαλήνην τὰς δὲ περὶ τὴν γῆν διαφορὰς τῶν ἄλλοτʼ ἄλλως ἐπιφαινομένων χρωμάτων παρῆκεν, ὡς ἀπείρους τὸ πλῆθος οὔσας. τὴν δὲ σελήνην οὐκ εἰκὸς ὥσπερ τὴν θάλασσαν μίαν ἔχειν ἐπιφάνειαν, ἀλλʼ ἐοικέναι μάλιστα τῇ γῇ τὴν φύσιν, ἣν ἐμυθολόγει Σωκράτης ὁ παλαιός, εἴτε δὴ ταύτην αἰνιττόμενος εἴτε δὴ ἄλλην τινὰ διηγούμενος οὐ γὰρ ἄπιστον οὐδὲ θαυμαστόν, εἰ μηδὲν ἔχουσα διεφθορὸς ἐν ἑαυτῇ μηδʼ ἰλυῶδες, ἀλλὰ φῶς τε καρπουμένη καθαρὸν ἐξ οὐρανοῦ καὶ θερμότητος οὐ διακαοῦς οὐδὲ μανικοῦ πυρὸς ἀλλὰ νοτεροῦ καὶ ἀβλαβοῦς καὶ κατὰ φύσιν ἔχοντος οὖσα πλήρης, κάλλη τε θαυμαστὰ κέκτηται τόπων ὄρη τε φλογοειδῆ καὶ ζώνας ἁλουργοὺς ἔχει χρυσόν τε καὶ ἄργυρον οὐκ ἐν βάθει διεσπαρμένον, ἀλλὰ πρὸς τοῖς πεδίοις ἐξανθοῦντα πολὺν ἢ πρὸς ὕψεσι λείοις περιφερόμενον· εἰ δὲ τούτων ὄψις ἀφικνεῖται διὰ τῆς σκιᾶς ἄλλοτʼ ἄλλη πρὸς ἡμᾶς ἐξαλλαγῇ καὶ διαφορᾷ τινι τοῦ περιέχοντος, τό γε μὴν τίμιον οὐκ ἀπόλλυσι τῆς δόξης οὐδὲ τὸ θεῖον ἡ σελήνη, ἥτις … ἱερὰ πρὸς ἀνθρώπων νομιζομένη μᾶλλον ἢ πῦρ θολερόν, ὥσπερ οἱ Στωικοὶ λέγουσι, καὶ τρυγῶδες. πῦρ μέν γε παρὰ Μήδοις καὶ Ἀσσυρίοις βαρβαρικὰς ἔχει τιμάς, οἳ φόβῳ τὰ βλάπτοντα θεραπεύουσι πρὸ τῶν σεμνῶν ἀφοσιούμενοι· τὸ δὲ γῆς ὄνομα παντί που φίλον Ἕλληνι καὶ τίμιον, καὶ πατρῷον ἡμῖν ὥσπερ ἄλλον τινὰ θεὸν σέβεσθαι. πολλοῦ δὲ δέομεν ἄνθρωποι τὴν σελήνην, γῆν οὖσαν ὀλυμπίαν, ἄψυχον ἡγεῖσθαι σῶμα καὶ ἄνουν καὶ ἄμοιρον ὧν θεοῖς ἀπάρχεσθαι προσήκει, νόμῳ τε τῶν ἀγαθῶν ἀμοιβὰς τίνοντας καὶ κατὰ φύσιν σεβομένους τὸ κρεῖττον ἀρετῇ καὶ δυνάμει καὶ τιμιώτερον. ὥστε μηδὲν οἰώμεθα πλημμελεῖν γῆν αὐτὴν θέμενοι, τὸ δὲ φαινόμενον τουτὶ πρόσωπον αὐτῆς, ὥσπερ ἡ παρʼ ἡμῖν ἔχει γῆ κόλπους τινὰς μεγάλους, οὕτως ἐκείνην ἀνεπτύχθαι βάθεσι μεγάλοις καὶ ῥήξεσιν ὕδωρ ἢ ζοφερὸν ἀέρα περιέχουσιν, ὧν ἐντὸς οὐ καθίησιν οὐδʼ ἐπιψαύει τὸ τοῦ ἡλίου φῶς, ἀλλʼ ἐκλείπει καὶ διεσπασμένην ἐνταῦθα τὴν ἀνάκλασιν ἀποδίδωσιν.

[¶1] 22. Here Apollonides, taking up the discourse, said: Tell me then, I beseech you, good sir, even by the moon herself, do you think it possible that there should be there shadows of caves and chinks, and that the sight of them should come even to our eyes? Or do you not regard what will come of it? And must I tell you what it is? But hearken to me, although you are not ignorant of it. The diameter of the moon, according to that bigness which appears to us when she is in her mean and ordinary distances, is twelve digits, and every one of these black and shady spots is above half a digit, that is above the four and twentieth part of the diameter. Now if we suppose the circumference of the moon to be only thirty thousand stadia; and the diameter according to that supposition to be ten thousand, every one of these shadowy marks within her will not be less than five hundred stadia. Consider then, first, whether there can possibly be in the moon such great gaps and such inequalities as may make such a shadow? And then how is it possible that, being so great, they are not seen by us? At this I, smiling upon him, said: You have done me a pleasure, dear Apollonides, in having found out such a demonstration by which you will prove that you and I shall be bigger than those giant sons of Aloeus, —not indeed every hour of the day, but principally morning and evening,—if indeed you think that, when the sun makes our shadows so long, he suggests to our minds this goodly argument; if that which is shadowed is great, that which shadows must of necessity be yet excessively greater. I know well that neither you nor I have ever been in Lemnos; yet we have often heard that Iambic verse, so frequent in every one’s mouth:
Mount Athos’ shade shall hide the Lemnian cow.
For the shadow of that mountain falls, as it seems, on the image of a brazen heifer which is in Lemnos, extending itself in length over the sea not less than seven hundred stadia. … The mountain which makes the shadow causes it, because the distance of the light renders the shadow of bodies manifoldly greater than the bodies themselves. Consider then here, that when the moon is in the full, and shows us the form of a visage most expressly, by reason of the profundity of the shadow, it is then that she is most remote from the sun; for it is the distance of the light that makes the shadow bigger, and not the greatness of the inequalities which are on the superficies of the moon. And you moreover see, that the brightness of the sun’s beams suffers not the tops of the mountains to be discerned in open day; but on the contrary, the deep hollow and shadowy parts appear from afar. It is not therefore any way absurd or strange, if we cannot so exactly see how the illumination of the moon and her reception of the sunbeams take place, while yet the conjunction of things that are obscure and dark to such as are clear and shining is by reason of this diversity apparent to our sight.

> Greek: 22. ὑπολαβὼν δʼ ὁ Ἀπολλωνίδης εἶτʼ, ὦ πρὸς αὐτῆς ἔφη τῆς Σελήνης, δυνατὸν εἶναι δοκεῖ ὑμῖν ῥηγμάτων τινῶν ἢ φαράγγων εἶναι σκιὰς κἀκεῖθεν ἀφικνεῖσθαι δεῦρο πρὸς τὴν ὄψιν, ἢ τὸ συμβαῖνον οὐ λογίζεσθε κἀγὼ τουτὶ εἴπω; ἀκούοιτε δὲ καίπερ οὐκ ἀγνοοῦντες. ἡ μὲν διάμετρος τῆς σελήνης δυοκαίδεκα δακτύλους ἔχει τὸ φαινόμενον ἐν τοῖς μέσοις ἀποστήμασι μέγεθος. τῶν δὲ μελάνων καὶ σκιερῶν ἕκαστον ἡμιδακτυλίου φαίνεται μεῖζον, ὥστε τῆς διαμέτρου μεῖζον ἢ εἰκοστοτέταρτον εἶναι. καὶ μήν, εἰ μόνων ὑποθοίμεθα τὴν περίμετρον τῆς σελήνης τρισμυρίων σταδίων μυρίων δὲ τὴν διάμετρον, κατὰ τὸ ὑποκείμενον οὐκ ἔλαττον ἂν εἴη πεντακοσίων σταδίων ἐν αὐτῇ τῶν σκιερῶν ἕκαστον. ὅρα δὴ πρῶτον, ἂν δυνατὸν τῇ σελήνῃ τηλικαῦτα βάθη καὶ τηλικαύτας εἶναι τραχύτητας, ὥστε σκιὰν ποιεῖν τοσαύτην ἔπειτα πῶς οὖσαι τηλικαῦται τὸ μέγεθος ὑφʼ ἡμῶν οὐχ ὁρῶνται κἀγὼ μειδιάσας πρὸς αὐτὸν εὖγʼ ἔφην ὅτι τοιαύτην ἐξεύρηκας ἀπόδειξιν, ὦ Ἀπολλωνίδη, διʼ ἧς κἀμὲ καὶ σαυτὸν ἀποδείξεις τῶν Ἀλωαδῶν ἐκείνων εἶναι μείζονας οὐκ ἐν ἅπαντι μέντοι χρόνῳ τῆς ἡμέρας ἀλλὰ πρωῒ μάλιστα καὶ δείλης, εἰ οἴει, τὰς σκιὰς ἡμῶν τοῦ ἡλίου ποιοῦντος ἠλιβάτους, τὸν καλὸν τοῦτʼ αἰσθήσει παρέχειν συλλογισμόν, ὡς, εἰ μέγα τὸ σκιαζόμενον, ὑπερμέγεθες τὸ σκιάζον. ἐν Λήμνῳ μὲν οὐδέτερος ἡμῶν εὖ οἶδʼ ὅτι γέγονε, τουτὶ μέντοι τὸ τεθρυλημένον ἰαμβεῖον ἀμφότεροι πολλάκις ἀκηκόαμεν Ἄθως καλύψει πλευρὰ Λημνίας βοός· ἐπιβάλλει γὰρ ἡ σκιὰ τοῦ ὄρους, ὡς ἔοικε, χαλκῷ τινι βοιδίῳ, μῆκος ἀποτείνουσα διὰ τῆς θαλάττης οὐκ ἔλαττον ἑπτακοσίων σταδίων, … τὸ κατασκιάζον ὕψος εἶναι διὰ τὴν αἰτίαν ὅτι πολλαπλασίους αἱ τοῦ φωτὸς ἀποστάσεις τῶν σωμάτων τὰς σκιὰς ποιοῦσι. δεῦρο δὴ θεῶ καὶ τῆς σελήνης, ὅτε πάμμηνός ἐστι καὶ μάλιστα τὴν ἰδέαν ἔναρθρον τοῦ προσώπου βαθύτητι τῆς σκιᾶς ἀποδίδωσι, τὸ μέγιστον ἀπέχοντα διάστημα τὸν ἥλιον ἡ γὰρ ἀπόστασις τοῦ φωτὸς αὕτη τὴν σκιὰν μεγάλην, οὐ τὰ μεγέθη τῶν ὑπὲρ τὴν σελήνην ἀνωμαλιῶν, πεποίηκε. καὶ μὴν οὐδὲ τῶν ὀρῶν τὰς ὑπεροχὰς ἐῶσι μεθʼ ἡμέραν αἱ περιαυγαὶ τοῦ ἡλίου καθορᾶσθαι, τὰ μέντοι βαθέα καὶ κοῖλα φαίνεται καὶ σκιώδη πόρρωθεν. οὐδὲν οὖν ἄτοπον, εἰ· καὶ τῆς σελήνης τὴν ἀντίληψιν καὶ τὸν ἐπιφωτισμὸν οὐκ ἔστι καθορᾶν ἀκριβῶς, αἱ δὲ τῶν σκιερῶν παραθέσεις παρὰ τὰ λαμπρὰ τῇ διαφορᾷ τὴν ὄψιν οὐ λανθάνουσιν.

[¶2] 23. But this, said I, seems rather to refute and check the reflection and reverberation which is said to rebound from the moon; because those who are within retorted rays do not only see that which is enlightened, but also that which enlightens. For when, at the resulting of light from water upon a wall, the sight falls upon the place which is thus illuminated by the reflection, the eye there beholds three things, to wit, the ray or light that is driven back, the water which makes the reflection, and the sun himself, whose light, falling on the superficies of the water, is repulsed and sent back. This being confessed, as what is evidently seen, it is required of those who say that the earth is enlightened from the moon by the reflections of the sun’s rays upon it, that they show us by night the sun appearing upon the superficies of the moon, in the same manner as he may be seen by day appearing in the water on which he shines when there is the said reflection of his beams. But since the sun does not so appear, they thence infer that the moon receives her illumination by some other means, and not by reflection; and if there is no reflection, the moon then is not earth. What answer then is to be made them, said Apollonides? For the argument of this objection against reflection is common also to us. It is indeed, answered I, in some sort common, and in some sort not. But first consider the comparison, how perversely and against the stream they take it. For the water is here below on the earth, and the moon there above in heaven. So that the reflected and reverberated rays make the form of their angles quite opposite one to the other, the one having their point upwards towards the superficies of the moon, and the other downwards toward the earth. Let them not then require that from every form of mirror, nor that from every distance and remoteness, there should be a like and semblable reflection; for so doing, they would repugn notorious and apparent evidence. And as for those who hold the moon to be a body not smooth, even, and subtile as the water, but solid, massy, and terrestrial, I cannot conceive why they should require to see the image of the sun in her as in a glass. For neither does mill itself render such peculiar images, nor cause reflection of the sight, by reason of the inequality and ruggedness of its parts. How then is it possible that the moon should send back the sight from her superficies, as mirrors do that are more polished? And if in these also there is any scratch, filth, or dulness on their superficies whence the reflected sight is wont to receive a form, they are dimmed, and although the mirrors may be seen, they yield no counterlight. He then who requires that either the sun should appear in the moon, or else the moon should not reflect the sun’s light to us, might as well require that the eye be the sun, the sight light, and man heaven. For it is probable, that the reflection of the sun’s beams which is made upon the moon does, by reason of their vehemence and great brightness, rebound with a stroke upon us. But our sight being weak and slender, what wonder is it, if it neither give such a stroke as may rebound, or if it rebounds, that it does not maintain its continuity, but is broken and fails, as not having such abundance of light that it should not disgregate and be dissipated within those inequalities and asperities? For it is not impossible, that the reflection upon water or other sorts of mirrors, being yet strong, powerful, and near its origin, should from thence return upon the eye; but though there may perhaps from the moon be some glimmerings, yet they still will be weak and obscure, and will fail in the way, by reason of so long a distance. For otherwise hollow and concave mirrors send back the reverberated and reflected rays stronger than they came, so that they frequently burn and set on fire; and those that are convex and embossed like a bowl, because they beat them not back on all sides, render them dark and feeble. You see for certain, when two rainbows appear together in the heaven, one cloud comprehending another, that the rainbow which outwardly environs the other yields dim colors, and such as are not sufficiently distinguished and expressed, because the exterior cloud, being more remote, makes not a strong and forcible reflection. And what needs there any more to be said, seeing that the very light of the sun, reverberated and sent back by the moon, loses all its heat; and of his brightness, there comes to us with much ado but a small remainder, and that very languishing and weak? Is it then possible, that our sight, turning the same course, should bring back any part of the solar image from the moon? I for my part think it is not. But consider, I said, yourselves, that if our sight were in one and the same manner affected and disposed towards the water and towards the moon, the full moon would of necessity represent to us the images of the earth, plants, men, and stars, as is done by the water and all other sorts of mirrors. And if there is no such reflection of our sight as to bring us back these images, either by reason of our said sight’s weakness, or through the rugged inequality of the moon’s superficies, let us no longer require that it should rebound against the sun.

> Greek: 23. ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνο μᾶλλον ἔφην ἐλέγχειν δοκεῖ τὴν λεγομένην ἀνάκλασιν ἀπὸ τῆς σελήνης, ὅτι τοὺς ἐν ταῖς ἀνακλωμέναις αὐγαῖς ἑστῶτας οὐ μόνον συμβαίνει τὸ φωτιζόμενον ὁρᾶν, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ φωτίζον. ὅταν γάρ, αὐγῆς ἀφʼ ὕδατος πρὸς τοῖχον ἁλλομένης, ὄψις ἐν αὐτῷ τῷ πεφωτισμένῳ κατὰ τὴν ἀνάκλασιν τόπῳ γένηται, τὰ τρία καθορᾷ, τὴν τʼ ἀνακλωμένην αὐγὴν καὶ τὸ ποιοῦν ὕδωρ τὴν ἀνάκλασιν καὶ τὸν ἣλιον αὐτόν, ἀφʼ οὗ τὸ φῶς τῷ ὕδατι προσπίπτον ἀνακέκλασται. τούτων δʼ ὁμολογουμένων καὶ φαινομένων, κελεύουσι τοὺς ἀνακλάσει φωτίζεσθαι τὴν γῆν ὑπὸ τῆς σελήνης ἀξιοῦντας ἐπιδεικνύναι νύκτωρ ἐμφαινόμενον τῇ σελήνῃ τὸν ἥλιον, ὥσπερ ἐμφαίνεται τῷ ὕδατι μεθʼ ἡμέραν, ὅταν ἀνάκλασις ἀπʼ αὐτοῦ γένηται· μὴ φαινομένου δὲ τούτου, κατʼ ἄλλον οἴονται τρόπον, οὐκ ἀνακλάσει, γίγνεσθαι τὸν φωτισμόν· εἰ δὲ μὴ τοῦτο, μηδὲ γῆν εἶναι τὴν σελήνην. τί οὖν ἔφη πρὸς αὐτοὺς λεκτέον ὁ Ἀπολλωνίδης; κοινὰ γὰρ ἔοικε καὶ πρὸς ἡμᾶς εἶναι τὰ τῆς ἀνακλάσεως. ἀμέλει τρόπον τινά ἔφην ἐγώ κοινά, τρόπον δʼ ἄλλον οὐδὲ κοινά· πρῶτον δʼ ὅρα τὰ τῆς εἰκόνος ὡς ἄνω ποταμῶν καὶ τραπέμπαλιν λαμβάνουσιν. ἐπὶ γῆς γάρ ἐστι καὶ κάτω τὸ ὕδωρ, ὑπὲρ γῆς δὲ σελήνη καὶ μετέωρος ὅθεν ἀντίστροφον αἱ κεκλασμέναι τὸ σχῆμα τῆς γωνίας ποιοῦσι, τῆς μὲν ἄνω πρὸς τῇ σελήνῃ τῆς δὲ κάτω πρὸς τῇ γῇ τὴν κορυφὴν ἐχούσης· μὴ ἅπασαν οὖν ἰδέαν κατόπτρων μηδʼ ἐκ πάσης ἀποστάσεως ὁμοίαν ἀνάκλασιν ποιεῖν ἀξιούτωσαν, ἐπεὶ μάχονται πρὸς τὴν ἐνάργειαν. οἱ δὲ σῶμα μὴ λεπτὸν μηδὲ λεῖον, ὥσπερ ἐστὶ τὸ ὕδωρ, ἀποφαίνοντες τὴν σελήνην, ἀλλʼ ἐμβριθὲς καὶ γεῶδες, οὐκ οἶδʼ ὅπως ἀπαιτοῦνται τοῦ ἡλίου τὴν ἔμφασιν ἐν αὐτῇ πρὸς τὴν ὄψιν οὐδὲ γὰρ τὸ γάλα τοὺς τοιούτους ἐσοπτρισμοὺς ἀποδίδωσιν οὐδὲ ποιεῖ τῆς ὄψεως ἀνακλάσεις διὰ τὴν ἀνωμαλίαν καὶ τραχύτητα τῶν μορίων· πόθεν γε τὴν σελήνην δυνατόν ἐστιν ἀναπέμπειν ἀφʼ ἑαυτῆς τὴν ὄψιν, ὥσπερ ἀναπέμπει τὰ λειότερα τῶν ἐσόπτρων; καίτοι καὶ ταῦτα δήπουθεν, ἐὰν ἀμυχή τις ἢ ῥύπος ἢ τραχύτης καταλάβῃ τὸ σημεῖον, ἀφʼ οὗ πέφυκεν ἡ ὄψις ἀνακλᾶσθαι, τυφλοῦται καὶ βλέπεται μὲν αὐτά, τὴν δʼ ἀνταύγειαν οὐκ ἀποδίδωσιν. ὁ δʼ ἀξιῶν ἢ καὶ τὴν ὄψιν ἡμῶν ἐπὶ τὸν ἥλιον ἢ μηδὲ τὸν ἥλιον ἐφʼ ἡμᾶς ἀνακλᾶν ἀφʼ ἑαυτῆς τὴν σελήνην ἡδύς ἐστι. τὸν ὀφθαλμὸν ἥλιον ἀξιῶν εἶναι φῶς δὲ τὴν ὄψιν οὐρανὸν δὲ τὸν ἄνθρωπον. τοῦ μὲν γὰρ ἡλίου διʼ εὐτονίαν καὶ λαμπρότητα πρὸς τῇ σελήνῃ γιγνομένην μετὰ πληγῆς τὴν ἀνάκλασιν φέρεσθαι πρὸς ἡμᾶς εἰκός ἐστιν· ἡ δʼ ὄψις ἀσθενὴς οὖσα καὶ λεπτὴ καὶ ὀλιγοστή, τί θαυμαστὸν εἰ μήτε πληγὴν ἀνακρουστικὴν ποιεῖ μήτʼ ἀφαλλομένη τηρεῖ τὴν συνέχειαν ἀλλὰ θρύπτεται καὶ ἀπολείπει, πλῆθος οὐκ ἔχουσα φωτὸς ὥστε μὴ διασπᾶσθαι περὶ τὰς ἀνωμαλίας καὶ τραχύτητας; ἀπὸ μὲν γὰρ ὕδατος καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἐσόπτρων ἰσχύουσαν ἔτι τῆς ἀρχῆς ἐγγὺς οὖσαν ἐπὶ τὸν ἥλιον ἅλλεσθαι τὴν ἀνάκλασιν οὐκ ἀδύνατόν ἐστιν· ἀπὸ δὲ τῆς σελήνης, κἂν γίγνωνταί τινες ὀλισθήσεις αὐτῆς, ἀσθενεῖς ἔσονται καὶ ἀμυδραὶ καὶ προαπολείπουσαι διὰ τὸ μῆκος τῆς ἀποστάσεως, καὶ γὰρ ἄλλως τὰ μὲν κοῖλα τῶν ἐσόπτρων εὐτονωτέραν ποιεῖ τῆς προηγουμένης αὐγῆς τὴν ἀνακλωμένην, ὥστε καὶ φλόγας ἀναπέμπειν πολλάκις· τὰ δὲ κυρτὰ καὶ τὰ σφαιροειδῆ τῷ μὴ πανταχόθεν ἀντερείδειν ἀσθενῆ καὶ ἀμαυράν. … ὁρᾶτε δήπουθεν, ὅταν ἴριδες δύο φανῶσι, νέφους νέφος ἐμπεριέχοντος, ἀμαυράν ποιοῦσαν καὶ ἀσαφῆ τὰ χρώματα τὴν περιέχουσαν τὸ γὰρ ἐκτὸς νέφος ἀπωτέρω τῆς ὄψεως κείμενον οὐκ εὔτονον οὐδʼ ἰσχυρὰν τὴν ἀνάκλασιν ἀποδίδωσι. καὶ τί δεῖ πλείονα λέγειν; ὅπου γὰρ τὸ τοῦ ἡλίου φῶς ἀνακλώμενον ἀπὸ τῆς σελήνης τὴν μὲν θερμότητα πᾶσαν ἀποβάλλει, τῆς δὲ λαμπρότητος αὐτοῦ λεπτὸν ἀφικνεῖται μόλις πρὸς ἡμᾶς καὶ ἀδρανὲς λείψανον· ἦπου τῆς ὄψεως τὸν ἴσον φερομένης δίαυλον ἐνδέχεται μόριον ὁτιοῦν λείψανον ἐξικέσθαι πρὸς τὸν ἣλιον ἀπὸ τῆς σελήνης; ἐγὼ μὲν οὐκ οἶμαι. σκοπεῖτε δʼ εἶπον καὶ ὑμεῖς· εἰ ταὐτὰ πρὸς τὸ ὕδωρ καὶ τὴν σελήνην ἔπασχεν ἡ ὄψις, ἔδει καὶ γῆς καὶ φυτῶν καὶ ἀνθρώπων καὶ ἄστρων ἐμφάσεις ποιεῖν τὴν πανσέληνον, οἵας τὰ λοιπὰ ποιεῖται τῶν ἐσόπτρων· εἰ δʼ οὐ γίγνονται πρὸς ταῦτα τῆς ὄψεως ἀνακλάσεις διʼ ἀσθένειαν αὐτῆς ἢ τραχύτητα τῆς σελήνης, μηδὲ πρὸς τὸν ἣλιον ἀπαιτῶμεν.

[¶3] 24. We have then, said I, related, as far as our memory would carry it away, whatever was there said. It is now time to desire Sylla, or rather to exact of him, that he would make us his narration, as being on such condition admitted to hear all this discourse. If you think good therefore, let us give over walking, and sitting down on these seats, make him a quiet and settled audience. Every one approved this motion. And therefore, when we had seated ourselves, Theon thus began: I am indeed, O Lamprias, as desirous as any of you can be to hear what shall be said; but I would gladly first understand something concerning those who are said to dwell in the moon; not whether there are any persons inhabiting it, but whether it is impossible there should be any; for if it is not possible for the moon to be inhabited, it is also unreasonable to say that she is earth; otherwise she would have been created in vain and to no end, not bearing any fruits, not affording a place for the birth or education of any men, for which causes and ends this earth wherein we live was made and created, being (as Plato says) our nurse and true guardian, producing and distinguishing the day from the night. Now you know, that of this matter many things have been said, as well merrily and in jest as seriously and in earnest. For of those who dwell under the moon, it is said that she hangs over their heads, as if they were so many Tantaluses; and on the contrary, of those who inhabit her, that being tied and bound to her, like a sort of Ixious, they are with violence turned and whirled about. Nor is the moon indeed moved by one only motion, but is, as they were wont to call her, Trivia, or Three-wayed; performing her course together according to length, breadth, and depth in the Zodiac; the first of which motions mathematicians call a direct revolution, the second volutation, or an oblique winding and wheeling in and out; and the third (I know not why) an inequality; although they see that she has no motion uniform, settled, and certain, in all her circuits and reversions. Wherefore it is not greatly to be admired, if through violence of her motion there sometime fell a lion from her into Peloponnesus, but it is rather to be wondered, that we do not daily see ten thousand falls of men and women and shocks of other animals tumbling down thence with their heels upwards on our heads; for it would be a mockery to dispute about their habitation there, if they can have there neither birth nor existence. For seeing the Egyptians and the Troglodytes, over whose heads the sun directly stands only one moment of one day in the solstice, and then presently retires, can hardly escape being burnt, by reason of the air’s excessive dryness; is it credible that those who are in the moon can bear every year twelve solstices, the sun being once a month just in their zenith, when the moon is full? As for winds, clouds, and showers, without which the plants can neither come up nor, when they are come up, be preserved, it cannot be so much as imagined there should be any, where the ambient air is so hot, dry, and subtile; since even here below, the tops of mountains never feel those hard and bitter winters, but the air, being there pure and clear, without any agitation, by reason of its lightness, avoids all that thickness and concretion which is amongst us; unless, by Jupiter, we will say that, as Minerva instilled nectar and ambrosia into the mouth of Achilles, when he received no other food, so the moon, which both is called and indeed is Minerva, nourishes men, producing for them and sending them every day ambrosia, with which, as old Pherecydes was wont to say, the Gods themselves are fed. For as touching that Indian root, which, as Megasthenes says, some people in those parts, who neither eat nor drink, but have pure mouths, burn and smoke, living on the smell of its perfume; whence should they have any of it there, the moon not being watered or refreshed with rain?

> Greek: 24. ἡμεῖς μὲν οὖν ἔφην ὅσα μὴ διαπέφευγε τὴν μνήμην τῶν ἐκεῖ λεχθέντων, ἀπηγγέλκαμεν ὥρα δὲ καὶ Σύλλαν παρακαλεῖν, μᾶλλον δʼ ἀπαιτεῖν τὴν διήγησιν, οἷον ἐπὶ ῥητοῖς ἀκροατὴν γεγενημένον· νʼ ὥστε, εἰ δοκεῖ, καταπαύσαντες τὸν περίπατον, καὶ καθίσαντες ἐπὶ τῶν βάθρων ἑδραῖον αὐτῷ παράσχωμεν ἀκροατήριον. ἔδοξε δὴ ταῦτα, καὶ καθισάντων ἡμῶν, ὁ Θέων ἐγώ τοι, ὦ Λαμπρία εἶπεν ἐπιθυμῶ μὲν οὐδενὸς ἧττον ὑμῶν ἀκοῦσαι τὰ λεχθησόμενα, πρότερον δʼ ἂν ἡδέως ἀκούσαιμι περὶ τῶν οἰκεῖν λεγομένων ἐπὶ τῆς σελήνης, οὐκ εἰ κατοικοῦσί τινες ἀλλʼ εἰ δυνατὸν ἐκεῖ κατοικεῖν· εἰ γὰρ οὐ δυνατόν, ἄλογον καὶ τὸ γῆν εἶναι τὴν σελήνην δόξει γὰρ πρὸς οὐδὲν ἀλλὰ μάτην γεγονέναι μήτε καρποὺς ἐκφέρουσα μήτε ἀνθρώποις τισὶν ἕδραν παρέχουσα καὶ γένεσιν καὶ δίαιταν ὧν ἕνεκα καὶ ταύτην γεγονέναι φαμὲν κατὰ Πλάτωνα τροφὸν ἡμετέραν ἡμέρας τε καὶ νυκτὸς ἀτρεκῆ φύλακα καὶ δημιουργόν. ὁρᾷς δʼ ὅτι πολλὰ λέγεται καὶ σὺν γέλωτι καὶ μετὰ σπουδῆς περὶ τούτων. τοῖς μὲν γὰρ ὑπὸ τὴν σελήνην οἰκοῦσιν ὥσπερ Ταντάλοις ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς ἐκκρέμασθαί φασι, τοὺς δʼ οἰκοῦντας αὖ πάλιν ἐπʼ αὐτῆς ὥσπερ Ἰξίονας ἐνδεδεμένους, ῥύμῃ τόση καίτοι μίαν οὐ κινεῖται κίνησιν, ἀλλʼ, ὥς που καὶ λέγεται, Τριοδῖτίς ἐστιν, ἅμα μῆκος ἐπὶ τοῦ ζῳδιακοῦ καὶ πλάτος ἐπιφερομένη καὶ βάθος· ὧν τὴν μὲν περιδρομὴν τὴν δʼ ἕλικα τὴν δʼ οὐκ οἶδα πῶς ἀνωμαλίαν ὀνομάζουσιν οἱ μαθηματικοί, καίπερ οὐδὲν ἀνώμαλον οὐδὲ τεταραγμένον ταῖς ἀποκαταστάσεσιν ὁρῶντες ἔχουσαν. οὔκουν εἰ λέων τις ἔπεσεν ὑπὸ ῥύμης εἰς Πελοπόννησον, ἄξιόν ἐστι θαυμάζειν· ἀλλʼ ὅπως οὐ μυρίʼ ὁρῶμεν ἀεὶ πεσήματʼ ἀνδρῶν κἀπολακτισμοὺς βίων ἐκεῖθεν οἷον ἐκκυβιστώντων Καὶ περιτρεπόντων. καὶ μὴν γελοῖον περὶ μονῆς τῶν ἐκεῖ διαπορεῖν, εἰ μὴ γένεσιν μηδὲ σύστασιν ἔχειν δύνανται. ὅπου γὰρ Αἰγύπτιοι καὶ Τρωγλοδῦται, οἷς ἡμέρας μιᾶς ἀκαρὲς ἵσταται κατὰ κορυφὴν ὁ ἥλιος ἐν τροπαῖς εἶτʼ ἄπεισιν, ὀλίγον ἀπέχουσι τοῦ κατακεκαῦσθαι ξηρότητι τοῦ περιέχοντος· ἦπου τοὺς ἐπὶ τῆς σελήνης εἰκός ἐστι δώδεκα θερείας ὑπομένειν ἔτους ἑκάστου, κατὰ μῆνα τοῦ ἡλίου πρὸς κάθετον αὐτοῖς ἐφισταμένου καὶ στηρίζοντος, ὅταν πανσέληνος; πνεύματά γε μὴν καὶ νέφη καὶ ὄμβρους, ὧν χωρὶς οὔτε γένεσις φυτῶν ἔστιν οὔτε σωτηρία γενομένοις, ἀμήχανον ἐκεῖ διανοηθῆναι συνιστάμενα διὰ θερμότητα καὶ λεπτότητα τοῦ περιέχοντος· οὐδὲ· γὰρ ἐνταῦθα τῶν ὀρῶν τὰ ὑψηλὰ δέχεται τοὺς ἀγρίους καὶ ἐναντίους χειμῶνας· ἀλλʼ … ἤδη καὶ σάλον ἔχων ὑπὸ κουφότητος ὁ ἀὴρ ἐκφεύγει τὴν σύστασιν ταύτην καὶ πύκνωσιν εἰ μὴ νὴ Δία φήσομεν, ὥσπερ ἡ Ἀθηνᾶ τῷ Ἀχιλλεῖ νέκταρός τι καὶ ἀμβροσίας ἐνέσταξε μὴ προσιεμένῳ τροφήν, οὕτω τὴν σελήνην, Ἀθηνᾶν λεγομένην καὶ οὖσαν, τρέφειν τοὺς ἄνδρας, ἀμβροσίαν ἀνιεῖσαν αὐτοῖς ἐφημέριον, ὡς Φερεκύδης ὁ παλαιὸς οἴεται σιτεῖσθαι τοὺς θεούς. τὴν μὲν γὰρ Ἰνδικὴν ῥίζαν, ἥν φησι Μεγασθένης τοὺς μήτʼ ἐσθίοντας μήτε πίνοντας ἀλλʼ εὐστόμους ὄντας ὑποτύφειν καὶ θυμιᾶν καὶ τρέφεσθαι τῇ ὀσμῇ, πόθεν ἄν τις ἐκεῖ φυομένην λάβοι, μὴ βρεχομένης τῆς σελήνης;

[¶4] 25. When Theon had spoken these things; You have very dexterously and gently, said I to him, by this facetiousness of yours smoothed as it were the brow, and taken off the chagrin and sourness of this discourse; which encourages and emboldens us to return an answer, since, however we may chance to fail, we expect not any severe or rigorous chastisement. For, to speak the truth, they who are extremely offended with these things and wholly discredit them, not being willing mildly to consider what probability and possibility there may be in them, are not much less in fault than those that are too excessively persuaded of them. First then, I say, it is not necessary that the moon must have been made in vain and to no end or purpose, if there are not men who dwell in it; for we see that this very earth here is not all cultivated or inhabited, but that only a small part of it, like so many promontories or demi-islands arising out of the deep, engenders, brings forth, and breeds plants and animals; the rest being through excessive cold or heat wholly desert and barren, or (which is indeed the greatest share of it) covered and plunged under the vast ocean. But you, who are always so great a lover and admirer of Aristarchus, give no ear to Crates when he reads in Homer,
The sea, which gave to Gods and men their birth,
Covers with waves the most part of the earth.
And yet those parts are far from having been made in vain. For the sea exhales and breathes out mild vapors; and the snow, leisurely melting from the cold and uninhabited regions, sends forth and spreads over all our countries those gentle breezes which qualify the scorching heat of summer; and in the midst, as Plato says, is placed the faithful guardian and operator of night and day. There is then nothing to hinder but that the moon may be without living creatures, and yet give reflections to the light that is diffused about her, and afford a receptacle to the rays of the stars, which have their confluence and temperature in her, for to digest the evaporation rising from the earth and moderate the over-violent and fiery heat of the sun. And attributing much to ancient fame, we will say that she is styled Diana, as being a virgin and fruitless, but otherwise greatly salutary, helpful, and profitable to the world. Moreover, of all that has been said, my friend Theon, there is nothing which shows it impossible for the moon to be inhabited. For her turning about, being gentle, mild, and calm, dulcifies and polishes the ambient air, and distributes it in so good order about her, that there is no occasion to fear the falling or slipping out of those who live in her. And as to the diversity and multiplicity of her motion, it proceeds not from any inequality, error, or uncertainty, but the astrologers show in this an admirable order and course, enclosing her within circles, which are turned by other circles; some supposing that she herself stirs not, others making her always move equally, smoothly, and with the same swiftness. For it is these ascensions of divers circles, with their turnings and habitudes, one towards another and with respect to us, which most exactly make those heights, depths, and depressions, that appear to us in her motion, and her digressions in latitude, all joined with the ordinary revolution she makes in longitude. As to the great heat and continual inflammation of the sun, you will cease to fear it, if first to the eleven estival conjunctions you oppose the full moons, and then to the excesses the continuity of change which permits them not to last long, reducing them to a proper and peculiar temperature, and taking from them both what is over much; for the middle, or what is between them, it is probable, has a season most like to the spring. And, moreover, the sun sends his beams to us through a gross and troubled air, and casts on us an heat fed by exhalation; whereas the air, being there subtile and transparent, dissipates and disperses his lustre, which has no nourishment nor body on which it may settle. Trees and fruits are here nourished by showers; but elsewhere, as in the higher countries with you about Thebes and Syene, the earth drinking in not aerial but earth-bred water, and being assisted with refreshing winds and dew, will not (such is the virtue and temperature of the soil) yield the first place for fertility to the best watered land in the world. And the same sorts of trees which in our country, having suffered a long and sharp winter, bring forth abundance of good fruit, are in Africa and with you in Egypt soon offended with cold and very fearful of the winter. And the provinces of Gedrosia and Troglodytis, which lie near the ocean sea, being by reason of drought barren and without any trees, there grow nevertheless in the adjacent sea trees of a wonderful height and bigness, and green even to the very bottom; some of which they call olive-trees, others laurels, and others the hair of Isis. And those plants which are named anacampserotes, being hanged up after they are plucked out of the ground, not only live, but—which is more—bud and put forth green leaves. Some seeds are sown in winter; and others in the heat of summer, like sesame and millet. And thyme or centaury, if it is sown in a rich and fat earth, and there well drenched and watered, degenerates from its natural quality and all its virtue, because it loves dryness and thrives in its own proper natural soil. Others cannot bear so much as the least dew, of which kind are the most part of the Arabian plants, and if they are but once wet, they wither, fade, and die. What wonder is it then, if there grow in the moon roots, seeds, and plants which have no need of rains or winter colds, and are appropriated to a dry and subtile air, such as is that of summer? And why may it not be probable that the moon sends forth warm winds, and that her shaking and agitation, as she moves, is accompanied by comfortable breezes, fine dews, and gentle moistures, which are everywhere dispersed to furnish nutriment for the verdant plants?—seeing she is not of her temperature ardent or parched with drought, but rather soft, moist, and engendering all humidity. For there come not from her to us any effects of dryness, but many of a feminine moisture and softness, such as are the growing of plants, the putrefaction of flesh, the changing and flatness of wines, the tenderness and rotting of wood, and the easy deliveries of child-bearing women. But because I am afraid of irritating again and provoking Pharnaces—who all this while speaks not a word—if I should allege the flowing and ebbing of the great ocean (as they themselves say), and the increasing of the friths and straits, which swell and rise by the moon augmenting the moisture; therefore I will rather turn myself to you, my friend Theon. For you, interpreting this verse of the poet Alcman,
Such things as dew, Jove’s daughter and the moon’s,
Does nourish,
tell us, that in this place he calls the air Jupiter, which, being moistened by the moon, is by Nature changed into dew. For she seems, my good friend, to be of a nature almost wholly contrary to the sun, not only in that she is wonted to moisten, dissolve, and soften what he thickens, dries, and hardens; but moreover, in that she allays and cools his heat, when it lights upon her and is mingled with her.

> Greek: 25. ταῦτα τοῦ Θέωνος εἰπόντος, κάλλιστὰ γʼ ἔφην καὶ ἄριστα τῇ παιδιᾷ τοῦ λόγου τὰς ὀφρῦς ἡμῶν ἔλυσας, διʼ ἃ καὶ θάρσος ἡμῖν ἐγγίγνεται πρὸς τὴν ἀπόκρισιν, μὴ πάνυ πικρὰν μηδʼ αὐστηρὰν εὐθύνην προσδοκῶσι· καὶ γὰρ ὡς ἀληθῶς τῶν σφόδρα πεπεισμένων τὰ τοιαῦτα διαφέρουσιν οὐδὲν οἱ σφόδρα δυσκολαίνοντες αὐτοῖς καὶ διαπιστοῦντες ἀλλὰ μὴ πράως τὸ δυνατὸν καὶ τὸ ἐνδεχόμενον ἐθέλοντες ἐπισκοπεῖν, εὐθὺς οὖν τὸ πρῶτον οὐκ ἀναγκαῖόν ἐστιν, εἰ μὴ κατοικοῦσιν ἄνθρωποι τὴν σελήνην, μάτην γεγονέναι καὶ πρὸς μηδέν. οὐδὲ γὰρ τήνδε τὴν γῆν διʼ ὅλης ἐνεργὸν οὐδὲ προσοικουμένην ὁρῶμεν, ἀλλὰ μικρὸν αὐτῆς μέρος, ὥσπερ ἄκροις τισὶν ἢ χερρονήσοις ἀνέχουσιν ἐκ βυθοῦ γόνιμόν ἐστι ζῴων καὶ φυτῶν, τῶν δʼ ἄλλων τὰ μὲν ἔρημα καὶ ἄκαρπα χειμῶσι καὶ αὐχμοῖς, τὰ δὲ πλεῖστα κατὰ τῆς μεγάλης δέδυκε θαλάσσης. ἀλλὰ σύ, τὸν Ἀρίσταρχον ἀγαπῶν ἀεὶ καὶ θαυμάζων, οὐκ ἀκούεις Κράτητος ἀναγιγνώσκοντος
Ὠκεανός, ὅσπερ γένεσις πάντεσσι τέτυκται
ἀνδράσιν ἠδὲ θεοῖς, πλείστην ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἵησιν.
ἀλλὰ πολλοῦ δεῖ μάτην ταῦτα γεγονέναι· καὶ γὰρ ἀναθυμιάσεις ἡ θάλασσα μαλακὰς ἀνίησι καὶ τῶν πνευμάτων τὰ ἥδιστα, θέρους ἀκμάζοντος, ἐκ τῆς ἀοικήτου καὶ κατεψυγμένης αἱ χιόνες ἀτρέμα διατηκόμεναι χαλῶσι καὶ διασπείρουσιν ἡμέρας τε καὶ νυκτὸς ἕστηκεν ἀτρεκὴς ἐν μέσῳ φύλαξ κατὰ Πλάτωνα καὶ δημιουργός. οὐδὲν οὖν κωλύει καὶ τὴν σελήνην ζῴων μὲν ἔρημον εἶναι, παρέχειν δʼ ἀνακλάσεις τε τῷ φωτὶ περὶ αὐτὴν διαχεομένῳ καὶ συρροὴν ταῖς τῶν ἀστέρων αὐγαῖς ἐν αὐτῇ καὶ σύγκρασιν, ᾗ συνεκπέττει τε τὰς ἀπὸ τῆς γῆς ἀναθυμιάσεις, ἅμα τε καὶ τοῦ ἡλίου τὸ ἔμπυρον ἄγαν καὶ σκληρὸν ἀνίησι. καὶ πού τι καὶ παλαιᾷ φήμῃ διδόντες Ἄρτεμιν αὐτὴν νομισθῆναι φήσομεν ὡς παρθένον καὶ ἄγονον, ἄλλως δὲ βοηθητικὴν καὶ ὠφέλιμον. ἔπειτα τῶν γʼ εἰρημένων οὐδέν, ὦ φίλε Θέων, ἀδύνατον δείκνυσι τὴν λεγομένην ἐπʼ αὐτῆς οἴκησιν· ἥ τε γὰρ δίνη πολλὴν ἔχουσα πραότητα καὶ γαλήνην ἐπιλεαίνει τὸν ἀέρα καὶ διανέμει συγκατακοσμούμενον, ὥστε μηδὲν εἶναι δέος ἐκπεσεῖν καὶ ἀποσφαλῆναι τοὺς ἐκεῖ βεβιωκότας· ἥ τε μεταλλαγὴ καὶ τὸ ποικίλον τοῦτο τῆς φορᾶς καὶ πεπλανημένον οὐκ ἀνωμαλίας οὐδὲ ταραχῆς ἐστιν, ἀλλὰ θαυμαστὴν ἐπιδείκνυνται τάξιν ἐν τούτοις καὶ πορείαν οἱ ἀστρολόγοι, κύκλοις τισὶ περὶ κύκλους ἑτέρους ἐξελιττομένοις συνάγοντες αὐτὴν οἱ μὲν ἀτρεμοῦσαν, οἱ δὲ λείως καὶ ὁμαλῶς ἀεὶ τάχεσι τοῖς αὐτοῖς ἀνθυποφερομένην· αὗται γὰρ αἱ τῶν κύκλων ἐπιβάσεις καὶ περιαγωγαὶ καὶ σχέσεις πρὸς ἀλλήλους καὶ πρὸς ἡμᾶς τὰ φαινόμενα τῆς κινήσεως ὕψη καὶ βάθη καὶ τὰς κατὰ πλάτος παραλλάξεις ἅμα ταῖς κατὰ μῆκος αὐτῆς περιόδοις ἐμμελέστατα συμπεραίνουσι. τὴν δὲ πολλὴν θερμότητα καὶ συνεχῆ πύρωσιν ὑφʼ ἡλίου παύσῃ φοβούμενος, ἂν πρῶτον μὲν ἀντιθῇς ταῖς ἕνδεκα θεριναῖς συνόδοις τὰς πανσελήνους· εἴσῃ δὲ τὸ συνεχὲς τῆς μεταβολῆς ταῖς ὑπερβολαῖς χρόνον οὐκ ἐχούσαις πολὺν ἐμποιεῖν κρᾶσιν οἰκείαν καὶ τὸ ἄγαν ἑκατέρας ἀφαιρεῖν, ἀμέσου δὲ τούτων, ὡς εἰκός, ὥραν ἔαρι προσφορωτάτην ἔχουσιν. ἔπειτα πρὸς μὲν ἡμᾶς καθίησι δἰ ἀέρος θολεροῦ καὶ συνεπερείδοντος; θερμότητα ταῖς ἀναθυμιάσεσι τρεφομένην· ἐκεῖ δὲ λεπτὸς ὢν καὶ διαυγὴς ὁ ἀὴρ σκίδνησι καὶ διαχεῖ τὴν αὐγήν, ὑπέκκαυμα καὶ σῶμα μηδὲν ἔχουσαν. ὕλην δὲ καὶ καρποὺς αὐτοῦ μὲν ὄμβροι τρέφουσιν, ἑτέρωθι δέ, ὥσπερ ἄνω περὶ Θήβας παρʼ ὑμῖν καὶ Συήνην, οὐκ ὄμβριον ὕδωρ ἀλλὰ γηγενὲς ἡ γῆ πίνουσα καὶ χρωμένη πνεύμασι καὶ δρόσοις οὐκ ἂν ἐθελήσειεν, οἶμαι, τῇ πλεῖστον ὑομένῃ πολυκαρπία συμφέρεσθαι διʼ ἀρετήν τινα καὶ κρᾶσιν. τὰ δʼ αὐτὰ φυτὰ τῷ γένει παρʼ ἡμῖν μέν, ἐὰν σφόδρα πιεσθῇ χειμῶσιν, ἐκφέρει πολὺν καὶ καλὸν καρπόν ἐν δὲ Λιβύῃ καὶ παρʼ ὑμῖν· ἐν Αἰγύπτῳ δύσριγα κομιδῇ καὶ δειλὰ πρὸς χειμῶνάς; ἐστι. τῆς δὲ Γεδρωσίας καὶ Τρωγλοδύτιδος, ἣ καθήκει πρὸς τὸν ὠκεανόν ἀφόρου διὰ ξηρότητα καὶ ἀδένδρου παντάπασιν οὔσης, ἐν τῇ παρακειμένῃ καὶ περικεχυμένῃ θαλάττῃ θαυμαστὰ μεγέθη φυτῶν τρέφεται καὶ κατὰ βυθοῦ τέθηλεν· ὧν τὰ μὲν ἐλαίας τὰ δὲ δάφνας τὰ δʼ Ἴσιδος τρίχας καλοῦσιν. οἱ δʼ ἀνακαμψέρωτες οὗτοι προσαγορευόμενοι, τῆς γῆς ἐξαιρεθέντες, οὐ μόνον ζῶσι κρεμάμενοι χρόνον ὅσον βούλεταί τις ἀλλὰ βλαστάνουσιν. σπείρεται δὲ τὰ μὲν πρὸς χειμῶνος τὰ δὲ θέρους ἀκμάζοντος, ὥσπερ σήσαμον καὶ μελίνη· τὸ δὲ θύμον ἢ τὸ κενταύριον ἂν εἰς ἀγαθὴν καὶ πίονα σπαρῇ χώραν καὶ βρέχηται καὶ ἄρδηται, τῆς κατὰ φύσιν ἐξίσταται ποιότητος καὶ ἀποβάλλει τὴν δύναμιν, αὐχμῷ δὲ χαίρει καὶ πρὸς τὸ οἰκεῖον ἐπιδίδωσιν· εἰ δʼ ὥς φασιν οὐδὲ τὰς δρόσους ἀνέχεται, καθάπερ τὰ πλεῖστα τῶν Ἀραβικῶν, ἀλλʼ ἐξαμαυροῦται διαινόμενα καὶ φθείρεται, τί δὴ θαυμαστόν ἐστιν εἰ γίγνονται περὶ τὴν σελήνην ῥίζαι καὶ σπέρματα καὶ ὗλαι μηδὲν ὑετῶν δεόμεναι μηδὲ χιόνων ἀλλὰ πρὸς θερινὸν ἀέρα καὶ λεπτὸν εὐφυῶς ἔχουσαι; πῶς δʼ οὐκ εἰκὸς; ἀνιέναι τε πνεύματα θαλπόμενα τῇ σελήνῃ καὶ τῷ σάλῳ τῆς περιφορᾶς αὔρας τε παρομαρτεῖν ἀτρέμα, καὶ δρόσους καὶ ὑγρότητας ἐλαφρὰς περιχεούσας, καὶ διασπειρομένας ἐπαρκεῖν τοῖς βλαστάνουσιν, αὐτὴν δὲ τῇ κράσει μὴ πυρώδη μηδʼ αὐχμηρὰν ἀλλὰ μαλακὴν καὶ ὑδροποιὸν εἶναι; ξηρότητος μὲν γὰρ οὐδὲν ἀφικνεῖται πάθος ἀπʼ αὐτῆς πρὸς ἡμᾶς, ὑγρότητος δὲ πολλὰ καὶ θηλύτητος, αὐξήσεις φυτῶν, σήψεις κρεῶν, τροπαὶ καὶ ἀνέσεις οἴνων, μαλακότητες ξύλων, εὐτοκίαι γυναικῶν. δέδοικα δʼ ἡσυχάζοντα Φαρνάκην αὖθις ἐρεθίζειν καὶ κινεῖν, ὠκεανοῦ τε πλημμύρας ὡς λέγουσιν αὐτοὶ καὶ πορθμῶν ἐπιδόσεις, διαχεομένων καὶ αὐξανομένων ὑπὸ τῆς σελήνης τῷ ἀνυγραίνεσθαι, παρατιθέμενος. διὸ πρὸς σὲ τρέψομαι μᾶλλον, ὦ φίλε Θέων λέγεις γὰρ ὑμῖν, ἐξηγούμενος ταυτὶ τὰ Ἀλκμᾶνος Διὸς θυγάτηρ Ἔρσα τρέφει καὶ δίας Σελάνας, ὅτι νῦν τὸν ἀέρα καλεῖ Δία καί φησιν αὐτὸν ὑπὸ τῆς σελήνης καθυγραινόμενον εἰς δρόσους τρέπεσθαι. κινδυνεύει γάρ, ὦ ἑταῖρε, πρὸς τὸν ἣλιον ἀντιπαθῆ φύσιν ἔχειν·