On Airs, Waters, Places — First Draft Translation

[Preface] Whoever wishes to inquire rightly into medicine must do the following. First, he must consider the seasons of the year — what each is capable of producing. For they are not alike at all, but differ greatly among themselves and in their transitions. Next, the winds, both the warm and the cold — above all those common to all people, and then also those that are native to each region. [1] One must also consider the powers of the waters. For just as they differ in taste and in weight, so too does the power of each differ greatly. Accordingly, when someone arrives in a city he does not know, he must think carefully about its situation — how it lies in relation to the winds and to the risings of the sun. For it is not the same thing whether a city lies toward the north or toward the south, nor whether it faces the rising sun or the setting. One must consider all these things as carefully as possible: concerning the waters, what condition they are in, and whether the people use marshy and soft waters, or hard ones from elevated and rocky ground, or waters that are briny and harsh. And the land — whether it is bare and waterless, or wooded and well-watered, and whether it lies in a hollow and is stifling, or is elevated and cold. And the diaita of the people — what kind they delight in: whether they are fond of drinking and eating well and averse to exertion, or fond of exercise and hard work, and inclined to eat well but drink little. From all these things one must reason out each matter. [2] For if someone knew these things well — all of them most of all, or if not, the greater part — on arriving in a city he does not know, the endemic diseases would not escape his notice, nor what the nature of those common to all is; so that he would not be at a loss in the treatment of diseases, nor would he err in what is likely to occur, unless someone with this prior knowledge should fail to think ahead. As time advances and the year goes on, he could say what diseases are about to take hold of the city as a whole — whether in summer or in winter — and what dangers there are for each individual to arise from a change in his diaita. For knowing the changes of the seasons, and the risings and settings of the stars, according to how each of these comes about, he would have foreknowledge of what kind of year it is likely to be. Thus, by inquiring and knowing in advance the critical moments, such a person would be best informed about each case, would most often succeed in respect of health, and would carry himself rightly in the craft in no small measure. And if someone should think these things belong to meteorology, and should change his mind, he would learn that astronomy contributes not the least part to medicine, but very much the greatest. For along with the seasons, the bowels of human beings also change. I will explain clearly how one must examine and test each of the things said above. [3] A city that lies toward the warm winds — these lie between the winter rising of the sun and the winter settings — and to which these winds are native, while it is sheltered from the winds coming from the north: in such a city the waters are plentiful and close to the surface, and they must be elevated; in summer they are warm, in winter cold. The people must have moist and phlegm-filled heads, and their bowels are frequently disturbed by the phlegm flowing down from the head. Their bodily forms are for the most part more lacking in tone. They are not good at eating or drinking. For those who have weak heads would not be good drinkers — since the heavy-headedness from drinking oppresses them more. The endemic diseases are these: first, the women are sickly and subject to fluxes; then, many are unable to conceive because of disease rather than by nature, and miscarriages are frequent. In children, convulsions and asthma occur — which they take to be the child's own doing — and what is called the sacred disease. In the men: dysenteries, diarrhoeas, ague-fevers, prolonged fevers in winter, many night-eruptions, and haemorrhoids at the anus. Pleuritis, peripneumonia, burning fevers, and whatever diseases are counted as acute — these do not occur in large numbers. For it is not possible, where the bowels are moist, for these diseases to be strong. Ophthalmic inflammations arise that are moist, not severe, and of short duration — unless some epidemic disease should set in from a change of season. And when people pass fifty years of age, catarrhs coming down from the brain make them paralytic, when they are suddenly exposed to sun on the head, or become chilled. These are the endemic diseases of such cities. Apart from these, if some epidemic disease sets in from a change of seasons, they also share in it. As for those cities that are situated opposite to these — toward the cold winds, between the summer settings of the sun and the summer rising — and to which these winds are native, while they are sheltered from the south and the warm winds: here is how things stand with these cities. [4] First, the waters are for the most part hard and cold. The people must be taut and lean, and most must have bowels that are not loose and are hard in the lower parts, more free-flowing in the upper; they are more bilious than phlegmatic. Their heads are healthy and firm; and they are for the most part prone to ruptures. The diseases that are endemic to them include many cases of pleuritis and the diseases counted as acute. This must be so when the bowels are hard. Many suppurations arise from any cause whatsoever; the cause of this is the tension of the body and the hardness of the bowel. For the dryness makes them prone to ruptures, and the cold of the water contributes as well. Such natures must be prone to eating well but not to drinking much, for it is not possible to be at once both a heavy eater and a heavy drinker. Ophthalmic inflammations arise at intervals, but when they arise they are severe and intense, and the eyes rupture at once. In those under thirty years of age, strong nosebleeds occur in summer. The so-called sacred diseases are few but severe. These people are likely to be longer-lived than others. Ulcers that arise in them are not phlegmatic nor do they become angry. Their characters are more wild than gentle. In men these are the endemic diseases; and apart from these, if any epidemic disease sets in from a change of seasons. In women, first, many are barren on account of the waters being hard, harsh, and cold; for the menstrual cleansings do not occur as they should, but are scanty and bad. Then they give birth with difficulty, though they do not miscarry much. When they have given birth, they are unable to nurse the children, for the milk is extinguished by the hardness and harshness of the waters. Phthisis arises frequently from the birth-pangs; for under the violence they sustain ruptures and strains, which bring on the wasting. In children, hydrops of the testes arises while they are small; later, as age advances, this disappears. They reach puberty late in such a city. Concerning warm and cold winds and the cities of this kind, then, matters stand as has been said. As for those that lie toward the winds between the summer risings of the sun and the winter ones, and those that are opposite to these — here is how matters stand with them. [5] Cities that face the risings of the sun are likely to be healthier than those turned toward the north and those facing the warm winds, even if the distance between them is but a stade. First, the heat and cold are more moderate. Then, the waters wherever they face the risings of the sun must be bright, sweet-smelling, soft, and pleasant in such a city. For the sun, rising and shining down, prevents the mist; for it is the air of early morning that tends to settle, most of the time. The bodily forms of the people are well-colored and flourishing, unless some disease prevents it. The people are clear-voiced; in temper and in understanding they are better than those toward the north — just as all the other things that grow there are better as well. The city so situated most resembles spring in its moderation of heat and cold. Diseases arise fewer and less severe, and they resemble those diseases arising in cities turned toward the warm winds. The women there are very fertile, and they give birth easily. So matters stand concerning these. As for those that face the settings, and are sheltered from the winds blowing from the east, while the warm winds sweep past them and the cold ones come from the north — these cities must lie in the most disease-ridden situation. First, the waters are not bright. The reason is that the morning air tends to settle most of the time, and mixing itself into the water it makes the brightness disappear; for the sun does not shine upon it until it is well up. [6] In summer, in the early morning, cool breezes blow and dews fall; for the rest of the day the sun, sinking deep into them, scorches the people most intensely — so that it is likely they are pale and sickly, and that they share in all the diseases mentioned above; nothing has been set apart for them. They are likely to be deep-voiced and hoarse on account of the air, which tends most of the time to be impure and disease-laden in such places. For it is not thoroughly separated out by the northerly winds — since those winds do not reach them — while the winds that do reach them and are native there are the most moisture-laden, since the winds from the west are of this kind. The situation of such a city most closely resembles autumn in the changes of the day, because the contrast is great between the morning and the afternoon hours. Concerning winds — which are favorable and which are not — matters stand thus. I wish now to describe the remaining waters: which are disease-causing, which are healthiest, what harms are likely to come from water, and what benefits — for water contributes the greatest share to health. [7] All waters that are marshy, stagnant, and from lakes must in summer be warm, thick, and malodorous, since they do not flow away. Fresh rainwater continually feeds into them and the sun burns them, so they must be discolored, bad, and bilious. In winter they must be icy cold, muddy, and turbid from snow and frost, so that they are most phlegm-producing and voice-roughening. Those who drink such waters always have large, stiffened spleens, and their bellies are hard, lean, and warm, while their shoulders, collarbones, and faces are wasted — for the flesh melts into the spleen, which is why they are thin. Such people must eat well and be thirsty; their bowels, both upper and lower, must be very dry, so that they require stronger drugs. This disease is native to them through both summer and winter. In addition, dropsies arise most frequently and are most deadly among them. In summer, many dysenteries attack, as well as diarrhoeas and prolonged quartan fevers; when drawn out, these diseases bring such natures to dropsy and kill them. These things happen to them in summer. In winter, for younger people there are peripneumonias and raving diseases; for older people there are burning fevers, on account of the hardness of the bowel. In women there are swellings and white phlegm; they conceive with difficulty and give birth with difficulty; the embryos are large and swollen; and then in nursing the children become consumptive and poor. The cleansing after birth is not good for the women. In children, hernias arise most often, and in the men, varicose veins and ulcers of the legs — so that such natures cannot be long-lived but age before their due time. Furthermore, women seem to be with child, and when the time of birth arrives, the fullness of the belly disappears; this happens when the wombs have become hydropic. Such waters I consider harmful for every use. Second-worst are those whose springs come from rocks — for they must be hard — or from ground where there are hot springs, or where iron, copper, silver, gold, sulphur, alum, bitumen, or soda are found; for all these arise by the force of heat. It is not possible for good waters to come from such ground; they will be hard, burning, difficult to urinate away, and contrary to evacuation through the bowels. Best are those that flow from elevated places and earthy hills. They are sweet and bright in themselves and are able to tolerate a little wine. In winter they are warm, in summer cold — for this is what would occur from the deepest springs. Most of all, those are to be praised whose streams break out toward the risings of the sun, and more especially toward the summer risings; for they must be the brightest, sweet-smelling, and light. Those that are briny, harsh, and hard — all these are not good to drink. There are some natures and diseases, however, for which such waters when drunk are suitable — concerning which I shall speak directly. [7 (50)] Matters stand thus concerning these as well. Of those whose springs face the risings, these are the best of their kind. Second are those between the summer risings of the sun and the settings, and more especially those toward the risings. Third are those between the summer and winter settings. The worst are those toward the south and those between the winter rising and the winter setting; these are very bad for southerners, but better for northerners. One should use these in the following manner. Whoever is healthy and strong should make no distinction at all, but always drink whatever is at hand. Whoever wishes for the sake of illness to drink what is most suitable would most likely attain health by acting thus: those whose bowels are hard and good at burning — for these the sweetest, lightest, and brightest waters are beneficial. Those whose stomachs are soft, moist, and phlegmatic — for these the hardest, harshest, and most close to the ground are best; for in this way they would be most dried out. For those waters that are best at boiling and most dissolving are also likely to relax and melt the bowel most; while those that are harsh, hard, and least good at boiling, these rather consolidate and dry the bowels. But people have been deceived about briny waters on account of inexperience, and because they are thought to be laxative; they are in fact the very opposite as regards evacuation through the bowels — for they are harsh and unboiled, so that the bowel is rather tightened by them than dissolved. So matters stand regarding spring-waters. Concerning rainwaters, and those from snow, I will explain how matters stand. [8] Rainwaters are the lightest, sweetest, finest, and brightest of all. For to begin with, the sun draws up and snatches away from the water what is finest and lightest. This is made plain by salt: the salty part of water is left behind by reason of its thickness and weight, and becomes salt; while the sun snatches away the finest part on account of its lightness. The sun draws up this kind not only from stagnant waters but also from the sea and from everything in which moisture is present — for there is moisture in every thing — and from people themselves it draws up the finest and lightest of the moisture. Evidence of this, most striking: when a person walks or sits in the sun wearing a garment, whatever parts of the skin the sun looks upon do not sweat — for the sun snatches away what appears of the sweat — while whatever is covered by the garment or something else does sweat. For the sweat is drawn out and forced out by the sun, but it is preserved by the covering so as not to be made to disappear by the sun. When the person enters the shade, the whole body perspires evenly, for the sun no longer shines upon it and prevents the sweat from appearing. For this reason, rainwater also putrefies fastest and acquires a bad smell — because it has been gathered and mixed together from the most diverse sources, and so putrefies most quickly. Furthermore, once it has been snatched up and raised and is borne around and mixed into the air, the turbid and dark part of it is separated out and departs and becomes air and mist; while what is finest and lightest of it remains, and is sweetened by being burned and boiled by the sun — for all things that are boiled in this way always become sweet. So long as it is scattered and not yet condensed, it is borne aloft. But when at some point it is gathered and coiled together into one mass by winds suddenly set against one another, then it bursts out wherever it happens to have coiled most thickly — for this is more likely to occur when the clouds, not being driven and set in motion by a wind that is steady, are suddenly struck by a contrary wind and other clouds. There it first coils together; the clouds behind press on and thicken and darken and coil into one mass, and by their weight burst and rains are made. These waters are the best in likelihood, but they require boiling and clearing of rot. Otherwise they acquire a bad smell, and hoarseness and heavy-voicedness come upon those who drink them. Waters from snow and ice are all bad. For once they have been frozen, they no longer return to their original nature; rather, the bright, light, and sweet part of them is separated out and disappears, and what is most turbid and heaviest remains. You could observe this as follows: if you wish, in winter, measure water into a vessel and set it in the open air where it will freeze most thoroughly, then on the following day bring it inside into a warm place where the frost will thaw most completely; when it has thawed, measure the water again, and you will find it considerably less. This is evidence that by the freezing, what is lightest and finest is made to disappear and dry away — not what is heaviest and thickest, for that could not. For this reason I consider these waters — from snow and ice and what follows them — the worst of all for every use. So matters stand concerning rainwaters and those from snow and ice. 9 People form bladder stones most readily, and are seized by nephritis, strangury, sciatica, and hernias, where they drink waters of the most varied kinds — from large rivers into which other rivers flow, from lakes into which many and varied streams arrive, and wherever people use imported waters carried from a great distance rather than a short one. For it is not possible for one water to be like another; rather, some are sweet, some are brackish and alum-like, and some flow from hot springs. When these mix together they conflict with one another, and whichever is strongest always prevails — but the same one is not always strongest; different ones prevail according to the winds, for one draws its strength from the north wind, another from the south, and the same account holds for the rest. In such waters sediment and sand inevitably settle at the bottom of vessels; and from drinking these waters the diseases mentioned arise. Why not all people are affected I will explain in what follows. Those whose belly moves freely and is healthy, and whose bladder is not feverish, and whose neck of the bladder is not too obstructed — these urinate easily, and nothing congeals in the bladder. But those whose belly is feverish — their bladder necessarily undergoes the same condition; for when it is heated beyond its natural state, the neck of the bladder becomes inflamed; and when this happens, it does not release the urine but cooks it through and burns it within itself. The finest and purest part of it is separated off, passes through, and is urinated out; the thickest and most turbid part congeals and solidifies — first small, then growing larger. For, rolled along by the urine, whatever thick matter congeals attaches to it; and in this way it grows and becomes hardened into stone. And whenever the person urinates, the stone is driven against the neck of the bladder by the force of the urine, blocks urination, and causes severe pain — so that children with bladder stones rub and pull at their genitals, for it seems to them that the cause of their difficulty urinating is there. Evidence that this is so: those with bladder stones urinate very clear urine, because the thickest and most turbid part of it remains and congeals. In most cases this is how stones form. In children stones also arise from milk, if it is not healthy but too hot and bilious; for it overheats the belly and the bladder, so that the urine, being burned, undergoes these same conditions. I maintain it is better to give children wine as well diluted as possible; for it burns and dries up the blood vessels less. In females stones do not form in the same way; for the urethra of the bladder is short and wide, so that urine is forced through easily; they do not rub the genitals with the hand as the male does, nor do they touch the urethra — for it opens directly into the genitals (whereas in men the passage is not straight, and also the urethras are not wide); and women drink more than children. Such is the situation regarding these matters, or something very close to it. As for the years, one would be able to discern by reflection what kind of year is likely to come — whether sickly or healthy — by reasoning as follows. 10 If the signs at the rising and setting of the stars occur in due order, if rains come in autumn and the winter is moderate — neither too fair nor exceeding the proper season in cold — and if rains come in spring at their proper time, and in summer as well, then it is likely the year will be most healthy. If, however, the winter is dry and northerly and the spring rainy and southerly, summer is necessarily produced as feverish, and brings on eye inflammations and dysentery. For when the scorching heat comes on suddenly while the earth is still wet from the spring rains and from the south wind, the burning is necessarily doubled — from the earth being saturated and warm, and from the sun blazing — and the bellies of people have not settled, nor has the brain dried out; for it is not possible, when the spring has been of such a character, that the body and flesh should not be sodden. So the most acute fevers fall upon everyone, and most of all upon those of phlegmatic constitution. And it is likely that dysenteries arise in women and in those of the moistest constitution. If at the rising of the Dog Star rain and cold set in and the etesian winds blow, there is hope of the sickness ceasing and the autumn becoming healthy. But if not, there is danger that deaths will occur among children and women, and least of all among the elderly, and that those who survive will succumb in quartan fevers and from the quartan course fall into dropsy. If the winter is southerly, rainy, and fair, and the spring northerly, dry, and wintry, then first, the women who happen to be pregnant and whose delivery is due toward spring will miscarry; and those who do give birth will bear children who are feeble and sickly, so that they either die at once or, if they live, are thin, weak, and sickly. Such is the situation for women. For the rest: dysenteries, dry eye inflammations, and in some cases catarrhs from the head down to the lung. In those of phlegmatic constitution dysenteries are likely to arise, and in women, as phlegm flows down from the brain, because of the moistness of their constitution; in those of bilious constitution, dry eye inflammations, because of the heat and dryness of the flesh; in the elderly, catarrhs, because of the looseness and wasting of the blood vessels, so that some suddenly perish and others become paralyzed on the right side or the left. For when, with winter being southerly and the body warm, the blood and blood vessels have not settled, and spring comes on northerly and dry and cold, the brain — at the very time it should, along with the spring, dissolve and purge itself through nasal discharge and hoarseness — at that time instead congeals and contracts, so that when summer comes on suddenly with its heat and the change sets in, these diseases fall upon people. Those cities that are situated well with respect to sun and winds, and that use good waters, feel these changes less; but those that use marshy and stagnant waters, and are situated badly with respect to winds and sun, feel them more. If the summer turns out dry, the diseases resolve more quickly; if rainy, they become prolonged; and there is a danger that spreading sores will arise from any occasion whatsoever if a wound appears; and smooth-bowel flux and dropsies arise at the end of the diseases as complications — for the bellies do not dry out easily. 10 (second section) If the summer is rainy and southerly, and the autumn likewise, the winter is necessarily sickly; and in those of phlegmatic constitution and in those older than forty, burning fevers are likely to arise; in those of bilious constitution, pleurisies and lung inflammations. If the summer is dry and northerly and the autumn rainy and southerly, headaches and mortifications of the brain are likely toward winter, and further, hoarseness, nasal discharge, and coughs, and in some cases phthisis (wasting). If it is northerly and without rain, without rain under the Dog Star and without rain at Arcturus, this is most beneficial to those who are phlegmatic by constitution, and to those moist in their constitutions, and to women; but to those of bilious constitution this becomes most hostile — for they are dried out excessively, dry eye inflammations come upon them, and acute and prolonged fevers, and in some cases melancholia. For the moistest and most watery part of the bile is consumed, while the thickest and sharpest remains; and the same account holds for the blood — from which these diseases come upon them. For those of phlegmatic constitution all these conditions are helpful: for they are dried out, and they arrive at winter not sodden but dried out. By reflecting and observing these things, one could foretell most of what is going to occur from the changes of the seasons. 11 One must especially guard against the greatest changes of the seasons, and willingly give no purgative drug, nor burn anything into the belly, nor cut, before ten days or more have passed; and the greatest and most dangerous of these are both turnings of the sun — and especially the summer turning — and both equinoxes as they are reckoned, but especially the autumnal one. One must also be on guard at the risings of the stars, and most of all at the Dog Star, then at Arcturus, and also at the setting of the Pleiades; for it is especially at these days that diseases come to their crisis — some perish, some cease, and all the rest shift to another form and another condition. So much for these matters. I wish now to show how much Asia and Europe differ from each other in all respects, and concerning the appearance of their peoples, how they differ and bear no resemblance to one another. 12 To speak of all things at length would take much time; but I will speak about the greatest and most different points, as it seems to me. I say that Asia differs from Europe most greatly in the natures of all things — of what grows from the earth and of human beings alike; for everything in Asia grows far more beautiful and large; the land is more cultivated than the other, and the characters of its people are gentler and less prone to anger. The cause of all these things is the blending of the seasons — because it lies in the middle of the sun's risings toward the east, farther from cold; and it is growth and gentleness that are provided above all else, whenever nothing is prevailing with violence but equal apportionment of everything holds sway. It is not the same throughout Asia, however; but the part of the land that lies in the middle between the hot and the cold is the most fruitful and the most wooded and the most fair-weathered, and has the finest waters — both those from the sky and those from the earth. For it is not excessively scorched by heat, nor dried out by drought and want of water, nor oppressed by cold; and since it is well-watered by many rains and snow, the seasonal products are likely to be plentiful there — both those from seeds and those which the earth itself sends up as plants — the fruits of which people use, cultivating them from wild and transplanting them to suitable soil; and the animals reared there are likely to thrive, and especially to breed most abundantly and to be raised most finely; and the people likely to be well-nourished, finest in form, tallest in stature, and least differing from one another in form and in size; and it is likely that this land is, in its nature and in the moderation of its seasons, nearest to spring. But courage, hardiness, capacity for toil, and spiritedness could not arise in such a nature — neither among the same people nor among different ones; rather, pleasure must prevail. [Gap in the manuscript tradition here; text resumes:] This is why the animals among them take many forms. Regarding Egyptians and Libyans, such is my view. Concerning the peoples to the right of the sun's summer risings as far as Lake Maeotis — for that is the boundary between Europe and Asia — the situation is as follows: these peoples differ more among themselves than do those just described, because of the changes of the seasons and the nature of the land. 13 The same holds with respect to the land as with respect to other human beings. For where the seasons produce the greatest and most frequent changes, there too the land is wildest and most uneven; and you will find many wooded mountains, plains, and meadows. Where the seasons do not change greatly, the land is most level. The same holds also for human beings, if one is willing to reflect on it. For there are constitutions resembling wooded and well-watered mountains, others resembling thin and waterless ones, others resembling meadow-like and marshy terrain, and others resembling flat, bare, and dry ground. For the seasons that shift the nature of form are different from one another; and if they are themselves greatly different from each other, the differences in outward forms become more numerous as well. I will pass over the peoples who differ only slightly; but about those who differ greatly — whether by nature or by custom — I will speak of how it stands. 14 First, about the Long-heads. There is no other people with heads similarly shaped. At the outset, custom was the principal cause of the length of the head, but now nature also supports custom; for they consider those with the longest heads to be the most noble. The custom is as follows: as soon as a child is born, while its head is still soft, being malleable, they reshape it with their hands and compel it to grow in length, applying bandages and suitable devices by which the spherical shape of the head is damaged and the length is increased. Thus at the outset custom worked so that, through this compulsion, such a nature came to be; then with the passage of time, it became embedded in nature, so that custom no longer needed to compel it. For seed comes from every part of the body — healthy from healthy parts, diseased from diseased parts. If, then, bald children are born from bald parents, grey-eyed from grey-eyed, squinting from squinting — as is mostly the case — and the same account holds for the rest of the form, what prevents a long-headed child from being born of a long-headed parent? Now however they are no longer born similarly to how they were before; for custom no longer has strength because of the mixing of peoples. Regarding these people, such is my view. Concerning the people of the Phasis: that land is marshy, warm, wet, and densely wooded; heavy rains occur there at every season and are strong; the diaita — the way of living — of the people is in the marshes; their dwellings are of wood and reed, constructed in the waters; they walk little through the city and the trading-place, but rather sail up and down in dugout boats — for there are many canals. 15 They drink warm, standing waters, rotted by the sun and swelled by the rains. The Phasis itself is the most stagnant of all rivers and flows most gently; the fruits that grow there are all weak, soft, and imperfect, because of the overabundance of water, and for this reason they do not ripen. Much mist holds over the land from the waters. For these reasons the Phasians have forms quite different from those of other people: they are large in stature and extremely stout in bulk; no joint or vein is visible; their complexion is pale, as though they had jaundice; they speak with the deepest voice of any people, using an air that is not bright but misty and damp; and by nature they are somewhat slow at enduring bodily labor; the seasons do not change much — neither toward scorching heat nor toward cold; the winds are mostly southerly, except for one local breeze which they call Kenchron — this blows sometimes with violence, is harsh and hot; the north wind does not come with much force, and when it blows it is weak and faint. So much for the difference in constitution and form between the people of Asia and Europe. Concerning the faint-heartedness and lack of courage of the people — that the Asians are less warlike than the Europeans and more gentle in character — the seasons are chiefly responsible, since they do not make great changes, neither toward heat nor toward cold, but remain similar. 16 For there are no shocks to the mind, nor strong shifts of the body, from which it is likely that temper would be roused to fierceness and that one would partake more of what is ungoverned and spirited than if one always remained in the same condition. For it is the changes of all things that rouse the mind of human beings and do not allow it to be still. For these reasons, it seems to me, the Asian people are without force; and further because of their customs. For most of Asia is ruled by kings. And where human beings are not their own masters and not self-governing but are ruled by despots, they have no reason to think about how they might train themselves in the arts of war, but only about how they might not appear capable of fighting. For the dangers are not equal: they are likely to be marched to war and to suffer hardship and die by necessity for the sake of their masters, while being separated from their children and wives and all other dear ones; and whatever good and brave deeds they perform, the masters are strengthened and flourish from them, while they themselves harvest the dangers and deaths; and beyond this, such men's land must be laid waste by enemies and by idleness — so that even if a person is by nature brave and spirited, his mind is turned away from it by the customs. Strong evidence of this: all those Greeks or barbarians in Asia who are not ruled by despots but are self-governing and labor on their own behalf are the most warlike of all; for they risk dangers on their own account and bear off for themselves the prizes of courage, and likewise the penalty of cowardice. You will find that Asians also differ among themselves — some being better, others more base — and the changes of the seasons are responsible for this, as I have said in the preceding discussion. So much for those in Asia. In Europe there is a Scythian people living around Lake Maeotis who differ from the other peoples; they are called Sauromatae. 17 Their women ride horses and shoot with bows and throw javelins from horseback and fight against enemies, for as long as they are maidens. They do not give up their maidenhood until they have killed three enemies, and they do not live with a husband before performing the sacred rites prescribed by custom. Whichever woman takes a husband for herself gives up riding, unless a general campaign forces her to. They do not have the right breast; for when the children are still infants, their mothers heat a bronze instrument made expressly for this purpose and apply it to the right breast and cauterize it, so that its growth is destroyed and all the strength and fullness passes instead into the right shoulder and arm. Concerning the form of the rest of the Scythians — that they resemble one another and in no way resemble others — the same account holds as for the Egyptians, except that the Egyptians are oppressed by heat and the Scythians by cold. 18 The so-called Scythian wilderness is a plain, meadow-like, elevated, and moderately well-watered; for there are large rivers that drain water from the plains. There the Scythians live their diaita — their way of living; they are called Nomads because there are no fixed dwellings but they live in wagons. The wagons, the smallest are four-wheeled, the others six-wheeled; they are enclosed with felt; they are constructed like houses — some single, some triple — and are rainproof, snowproof, and windproof. The wagons are drawn by teams of two or three yoked oxen without horns; for they have no horns on account of the cold. In these wagons the women live; the men ride on horseback; and their flocks of sheep, cattle, and horses follow them; they remain in one place for only as long as the pasture is sufficient for their animals; when it is sufficient no longer, they move to another land. They eat boiled meat and drink mares' milk and eat hippakē — that is, cheese of mares. Such is the situation regarding their diaita — their way of living — and their customs. Concerning the seasons and form — that the Scythian people are far removed from other people and resemble only themselves, as the Egyptians do, and that they are least of all prolific, and that the land produces the fewest animals in number and size. 19 [30] For it lies under the very Bears and the Rhipaean mountains, from which the north wind blows. The sun comes nearest at its end-point when it arrives at its summer circuits, and even then it warms for only a short time and not intensely. The winds blowing from the warm regions do not reach there, or only rarely and feebly; but from the north, cold winds blow always, from snow and ice and many waters; and the mountains are never free of these things. On account of these, the land is hard to inhabit. A thick mist holds the plains through most of the day, and they live their lives in the midst of it—so that winter is always present, and summer lasts only a few days, and those not very warm. For the plains are elevated and bare, and they are not garlanded with mountains, but slope upward toward the north. Here too the wild animals that grow are not large, but only such as can shelter underground; for winter prevents it, and the bareness of the land, and because there is no warmth or shelter. The changes of the seasons are not great or strong, but similar and varying little; for which reason their bodily forms too are alike to one another, and they use the same food throughout, and the same clothing in summer and winter, drawing in moist and dense air, drinking waters from snow and frosts—bodily hardship being absent from them; for it is not possible for the body to be hardened, nor the psyche, where strong changes do not occur. Because of these necessities, their bodily forms are thick and fleshy, lacking in joint-articulation, moist, and slack; their bellies are the most moist of all belly-regions below—for it is not possible for the gut to dry out in such a land, with such a nature and such a seasonal constitution; but because of the fat and the soft flesh, their forms resemble one another, males resembling males and females resembling females. For since the seasons are nearly alike, no corruptions or deteriorations arise in the congealing of seed, unless by chance some violent compulsion or disease intervenes. I will provide strong evidence for this moistness. 20 [5] You will find that most of the Scythians, all those who are Nomads, have their shoulders, arms, wrists, chest, hips, and lower back cauterized—for no other reason than the moistness of their nature and its softness. For they are unable either to draw the bow with full tension or to thrust with the spear using the shoulder, because of the moistness and slackness. But when they are cauterized, much of the moisture in the joints dries out, and the bodies become more taut, better nourished, and better jointed. They become bow-legged and broad: first, because they are not swaddled as in Egypt, and they do not practice it—given the riding, so that they may be good at sitting on horseback; then because of their sitting. For the males, as long as they are not yet able to ride on a horse, spend most of their time sitting in the wagon and make little use of walking, because of the migrations and drivings-about; while the females—it is remarkable how bow-legged and slow their forms are. The Scythian race is red-haired because of the cold—the sun not burning fiercely; but by the cold their whiteness is scorched and becomes ruddy. Such a nature cannot be prolific; for the man does not have much desire for intercourse, because of the moistness of his nature and the softness and coldness of his belly—from which it is least likely that a man could be capable of intercourse. And moreover, because they are constantly battered by riding on horseback, they become weak for intercourse. 21 [15] For the men, these are the causes. For the women: the fatness of the flesh and the moistness. For the wombs can no longer seize the seed; for neither does the monthly purging occur in them as it should, but little and at long intervals; and the mouth of the womb is closed by fat and does not receive the seed; and they themselves take no bodily hardship, and are fat, and their bellies are cold and soft. Because of these necessities, the Scythian people is not prolific. Strong evidence is provided by the servant women. For no sooner do they come to a man than they conceive, because of the bodily hardship and the leanness of their flesh. Moreover, beyond these things, most men among the Scythians become eunuch-like, and do women's work, and talk as women do. Such men are called Anarieis. 22 [45] The local inhabitants assign the cause to a god, and they revere these men and bow down before them, each fearing for himself. To me it also seems that these afflictions are divine—as indeed are all the others—and that no one is more divine or more human than another, but all are alike and all are divine; each of such things has its own nature, and nothing comes about without nature. This affliction, as it seems to me it comes about, I will explain. From the riding, they are seized by strains (κέδματα), since they are always hanging from the horses by their feet; then those who are severely ill become lame and their hips are dragged. They treat themselves in the following manner: when the disease begins, they cut the vein behind each ear; when the blood flows out, sleep overtakes them through weakness and they fall asleep; then they wake up, some restored to health, some not. It seems to me that it is through this treatment—the vein-cutting—that the seed is destroyed. For there are veins beside the ears which, if someone cuts them, those who have been cut become sterile. These then are the veins, it seems to me, that they cut. After this, when they come to women and are unable to have intercourse with them, at first they take no notice but remain quiet; but when, on attempting it two and three and more times, nothing different results, thinking they have committed some offense against the god whom they blame, they put on women's dress, having condemned themselves for unmanliness; they live as women and work together with the women at what women do. This happens to the wealthy Scythians, not the lowest-born, but the most well-born and those possessing the greatest strength, because of the riding; the poor less so, for they do not ride. And yet, if this disease were more divine than the rest, it ought to fall not upon the most noble and wealthy Scythians alone, but upon all alike, and more upon those who have little and are not honored—if indeed the gods rejoice and are admired by men and give back favors in return for this. For it is reasonable that the wealthy sacrifice much to the gods and offer up dedications, since they have the means, and that they honor them, while the poor do so less, because they lack the means, and moreover resent the fact that the gods do not give them wealth—so that it would be the poor who bear the penalties for such offenses rather than the rich. But as I also said before: these things too are divine in the same way as all the others; each thing comes about according to nature; and this disease arises among the Scythians from such a cause as I have stated. It is the same with the rest of mankind. For wherever men ride most and most frequently, there the greatest numbers are seized by strains, sciaticas, and gout-ailments, and they are worst at intercourse. These things belong to the Scythians, and they are the most eunuch-like of men because of the causes stated, and because they always wear trousers and spend most of their time on horseback, so that they do not touch their genitals with their hand, and because of cold and fatigue they forget desire and intercourse, and nothing stirs in them before they become unmanly. 22 (50) [5] So much, then, for the Scythian people. The remaining peoples of Europe differ among themselves—in size and in bodily form—because of the alternations of the seasons, which are great and frequent: strong heat-spells and harsh winters, heavy rains, and then again long droughts, and winds, from which arise many and varied changes. 23 [30] From these influences it is reasonable to conclude that the generation too—in the congealing of seed—differs, and is not the same in the same person in summer and winter, nor in rainy weather and drought; and for this reason I believe that the bodily forms of Europeans have diverged more than those of Asians, and that their sizes differ most widely from one another, city by city. For more corruptions arise in the seed during its congealing when the changes of seasons are frequent than when they are close to the same and uniform. The same reasoning applies to characters. The wild, the unsociable, and the spirited arise in such a nature; for frequent shocks to the understanding implant wildness in it, and dim the tame and the gentle. For this reason I consider those who inhabit Europe to be more courageous in spirit than those who inhabit Asia. For in the ever-uniform condition, slackness of spirit is present; in the changing condition, bodily hardship and hardship of the psyche are present. From stillness and slackness, cowardice grows; from hardship and toil, courage. For this reason those who inhabit Europe are more warlike, and also because of their laws—that they are not ruled by kings as the Asians are. For where men are ruled by kings, there they must be most cowardly. This I have also said before. For their psychai are enslaved, and they are unwilling to risk their lives freely and without cause for another's power. But those who are self-governing take up the dangers for themselves and not for others; they go willingly and eagerly into the terrible; for they themselves carry off the prizes of victory. Thus the laws are not the least cause of courage. Such, then, is the overall and complete account of Europe and Asia. But within Europe too there are peoples differing from one another in size, in bodily form, and in courage. What makes the difference is what has already been stated in the earlier discussion; I will state it still more plainly. 24 [45] Those who inhabit a mountainous, rough, high, and well-watered land, where the changes of the seasons are very great, there it is reasonable to expect large bodily forms, well-suited by nature to endurance and courage; and such natures have a great share of the wild and the fierce. Those who inhabit hollow, meadowed, and stifling places, who have a greater share of warm winds than cold, and who use warm waters—these would not be large or well-built, but broad in form, fleshy, and dark-haired; and they themselves are more dark than pale, less prone to phlegm than to bile; courage and endurance are not equally present in the psyche by nature, but law, if added, could produce them. If there are rivers in the land which drain away standing and rain water, these people would be healthy and bright; but if there are no rivers and they drink from springs and stagnant and marshy waters, such forms must necessarily be more pot-bellied and spleen-afflicted. Those who inhabit high, smooth, windy, and well-watered land would be large in form and similar to one another; but their minds would be less courageous and more gentle. Those who inhabit thin, waterless, and bare land, with the changes of seasons not well-blended—in that land the forms are likely to be hard and taut, more fair than dark, and in character and temper self-willed and independent-minded. For where the changes of the seasons are most frequent and most different from one another, there you will find the greatest differences in bodily form, in character, and in nature. These are the greatest distinctions that nature produces. After them comes the land in which a person is reared, and the waters; for you will find that in the general run of things, both the bodily forms of people and their ways follow the nature of the land. Where the earth is rich and soft and well-watered, and holds waters quite near the surface so that they are warm in summer and cold in winter, and the land lies favorably positioned with regard to the seasons—there the people too are fleshy, lacking in joint-articulation, moist, unaccustomed to bodily hardship, and bad in psyche for the most part; one can observe in them a lack of drive and a tendency to sleep; in the crafts they are dull, not subtle or sharp. But where the land is bare, unfortified, and rough, pressed upon by winter and scorched by the sun—there you would see them hard, lean, well-jointed, taut, and shaggy; the sharp industriousness and the wakefulness are present in such a nature, and the characters and tempers self-willed and independent; they share more in the wild than the tame; and in the crafts you will find them more acute, more intelligent, and better in warfare. And all the other things that grow in the land follow accordingly. Such then is how the most contrasting natures and forms stand. From these things, using them as evidence, think through the rest, and you will not go wrong.