De Defectu Oraculorum

Plutarch

Plutarch. Plutarch's Morals, Vol. IV. Goodwin, William W., editor; Midgley, Robert translator. Boston: Little, Brown, and Company; Cambridge: Press of John Wilson and Son, 1874.

But it will perhaps be demanded, why Plato refers the number of worlds to the five regular bodies or figures, saying that God made use of the number five in the fabric of the world, as it were transcribing and copying this; and then, having proposed a doubt and question of the number of the worlds, whether there be five, or one only, thereby clearly shows that his conjecture is grounded on this conceit of the five regular bodies. If now we may make a probable conjecture as to his opinion, we may believe that of necessity, with the diversity of these figures and bodies, there must presently ensue a difference and diversity of motions; as he himself teacheth, affirming that whatever is subtilized or condensed does, at the same time

with its alteration of substance, alter and change its place. For if from the air there is engendered fire, when the octahedron is dissolved and vanished into pyramids, or, on the contrary, if the air be produced from the fire pressed and squeezed up into the form of the octahedron, it is not possible it should remain there where it was before, but it flies and runs to another place, forcing and combating whatever stands in the way to oppose it. And he shows this more clearly and evidently by an example and similitude of fans, and such like things as drive away the chaff from the corn; for thus the elements driving the matter, and being driven by it, do always bring like to like, some taking up this place, others that, before the world was digested as now it is. The matter then being in that condition in which it is likely every thing is where God is not present, the five first qualities, or first bodies, having each their proper and peculiar inclinations and motions, went apart, not wholly and altogether, nor throughly divided and separated one from another; for when all was huddled in confusion, such as were surmounted went continually against their nature with the mightier. And therefore, some going on one side and others going on the other, hence it has happened that there have been as many portions and distinctions as there are divers kinds of first bodies; one of fire, not wholly pure, but inclining towards the form of fire; another of an ethereal nature, yet not wholly so, but inclining thereto; another of earth, not simple and mere earth, but inclining to the form of earth. But especially there was a communication of water and air; for these, as we have already mentioned, went their ways, replenished with divers other kinds. For God did not separate and distribute the matter, but having found it thus carelessly dissipated in itself, and each part being carried away in such great disorder and confusion, he ranged and ordered it into symmetry and proportion; and setting
reason over each as a guardian and governor, he made as many worlds as there were first bodies. However, in respect to Ammonius, let these Platonical notions pass for what they are worth. For my part, I will never be overzealous in this precise number of worlds; but this I will say, that those who hold there are more than one, yet not an infinite number, have as good grounds as others, seeing the matter does naturally spread itself and is diffused into many parts,—not resting in one, while yet it is contrary to reason that it should be infinitely extended. In short, let us here especially be mindful of the wise precepts of the Academy, and preserve ourselves upon such slippery ground as the controversy concerning the infinity of worlds, by refusing a too confident assent.

And when I had finished this discourse, Demetrius said: Lamprias is very much in the right; for the Gods deceive us with multiplicities, not of shadows and impostures (as Euripides[*](See Euripides, Frag. 925.) expresseth it), but even of realities and substances themselves, when we presume to be positive, as if we understood them in things of such weight and moment. But we must, as he advises us, return to our first question, which we seem to have forgotten. For what was said concerning the oracles remaining dumb and useless when the Daemons who presided over them were departed, even as we see musical instruments yield no harmony when the musician does not handle them,—this, I say, brings a greater question into debate, namely touching the cause and power by which these Daemons use to make their prophets and prophetesses to be ravished with enthusiasm and filled with fantastical imaginations. For to say the oracles are silent as being forsaken by the Daemons is nothing, unless we be first shown how (when they are present and govern them) they set them at work and make them prophesy.

Ammonius then taking up the discourse, Do you think, said he, that the Daemons are any thing else

Than wandering spirits clothed in finest air,[*](Hesiod, Works and Days, 125.)
as Hesiod says? For as to my part, I think the same difference which there is between one man and another, when they act in a tragedy or comedy, is also to be found in this life in souls that are clothed with bodies. So that there is nothing in this which is strange or contrary to reason, if souls meeting with other souls do imprint on them visions and apprehensions of future things, just as we show several things already done and come to pass, and prognosticate of those which have not yet happened, not only by the help of speech, but also by letters and writings, or by a bare touch, or a single look;—unless you, Lamprias, are of another opinion. For we heard but very lately, that you discoursed at large upon this subject with the strangers that came to Lebadea; but he that gave us this information could give us no particular account of what passed. No wonder, replied I, for several avocations and businesses intervening, occasioned by the oracle and the solemn sacrifice that was then performing, made our discourse very broken and interrupted. But now, says Ammonius, you have auditors at leisure, that are inquisitive and desirous of instruction, so that you may speak freely, and expect all the candor and consideration which you can desire.

And the rest of the company making the like exhortations, having paused a while, I began after this manner: It so happened, Ammonius, that you did, without your knowledge, give occasion to the discourse which was then held; for if the Daemons be souls and spirits separated from bodies and having no communication with them, as you affirm, but according to the divine poet Hesiod,

Are our kind guardians, walking here their rounds,[*](Hesiod, Works and Days, 123.)
why do we deprive the spirits and souls which are in bodies of the same power by which Daemons may foresee and foretell things to come? For it is not likely souls do acquire any property and power, when they abandon their bodies, wherewith they were not endowed before; but rather, we should think that they had always the same parts, but in a worse degree, when they were mixed with bodies, some of them being inapparent and hid, and others weak and obscure, like those who see through a thick mist or move in water, heavily and uneasily performing their operations, much desiring to be cured and so to recover what is their own, and to be discharged and purified of that which covers them. For as the sun does not then properly become bright when he has escaped out of the cloud,—for he is always so, though to our eyes, being clouded, he seems obscure and dark,—so the soul acquires not then the faculty of divining when gotten clear of the body, as from a cloud, but having the same before, is blinded by the commixture and confusion which she has with the mortal body. And this cannot seem strange or incredible, if we consider nothing else in the soul but the faculty of remembrance, which is, as it were, the reverse of divination, and if we reflect upon the miraculous power it hath of preserving things past, or, we should rather say, things present, for of what is past nothing remains, and all things do come into being and perish in the same moment, whether they be actions, or words, or passions; they all pass by and vanish as soon as they appear; for time, like the course of a river, passeth on, and carries every thing along with it. But this retentive faculty of the soul seizes upon these in some mysterious way, and gives a form and a being to those things which are no longer
present. For the oracle which was given to those of Thessaly, touching Arne, enjoined them to declare
The deaf man’s hearing, and the blind man’s sight.
But memory is to us the hearing of things without voice, and the sight of things invisible; so that, as I now said, no marvel, if retaining the things which are no longer in being, the soul anticipates several of those which are still to come; for these do more concern her, and she does naturally sympathize with them, inclining and tending to things which are future; whereas, as to those which are past and have an end, she leaves them behind her, only retaining the bare remembrance of them.

Our souls then, having this inbred power,—though weak, obscure, and hardly able to express their apprehensions,—yet sometimes spread forth and recover themselves, either in dreams or in the time of sacrifice or religious worship, when the body is well purified and endued with a certain temperature proper to this effect or when the rational and speculative part, being released and freed from the solicitude after present things, joineth with the irrational and imaginative part to think of and represent what is to come. For it is not, as Euripides saith, that he is the best prophet who guesses well; but he is the wisest man, not whose guess succeeds well in the event, but who, whatever the event be, takes reason and probability for his guide. Now the faculty of divining, like blank paper, is void of any reason or determination of itself, but is susceptible of fantasies and presentiments; and without any ratiocination or discourse of reason, it touches on that which is to come, when it has withdrawn itself farthest from the present. And from this it withdraws by means of a certain disposition of body, by which that state is produced which we call inspiration or enthusiasm. Now the body is sometimes endued naturally with this disposition; but

most times the earth casts forth to men the sources and causes of several other powers and faculties, some of which carry men beside themselves into ecstasy and phrensy, and produce maladies and mortalities; others again are good, gentle, and profitable, as appears by those who have had the experience of them. But this spring, or wind, or spirit of divination is most holy and divine, whether it comes by itself through the air, or through the water of some spring. For, being infused and mixed with the body, it produceth an odd temperature and strange disposition in the soul, which a man cannot exactly express, though he may resemble or compare it to several things. For by heat and dilatation it seems to open certain pores that make a discovery of future things; like wine, which, causing fumes to ascend up into the head, puts the spirits into many unusual motions, and reveals things that were laid up in secret. For drunkenness and phrensy, if we will believe Euripides, have a near approach to the nature of divination, when the soul, being hot and fiery, banishes those fears to which prudence and sobriety are subject, and which extinguish and quench the spirit of divination.