On Winds — First Draft Translation

ON WINDS There are certain arts which are burdensome to those who possess them, yet beneficial to those who use them; a shared good to the laity, yet distressing to those who handle them. 1 Among such arts is the one the Greeks call medicine. For the physician sees terrible things, touches what is unpleasant, and from the misfortunes of others reaps his own private distress; yet the sick are delivered from the greatest evils through the art — from disease, suffering, grief, and death — for against all of these medicine is found to be a remedy. Of this art, its inferior aspects are difficult to know, its serious aspects easier; and the inferior aspects are for physicians alone to understand, not for laypersons — for they are matters not of the body but of the mind. Whatever must be done by hand requires habituation, since custom becomes the finest teacher for the hands; but concerning the most obscure and most difficult diseases, judgment rather than art is the criterion, and in these matters experience differs most greatly from inexperience. Now, one such matter is this: what is ever the cause of diseases, and what is the origin and source of the evils in the body? For if one were to know the cause of a disease, one would be able to bring what is beneficial to the body, knowing the remedies from their contraries. This is the medicine most in accord with nature: hunger, for instance, is a disease — for whatever distresses the human being, that is called disease — so what is the remedy for hunger? What puts an end to hunger; and that is food; so by this that must be treated. Again, thirst is stopped by drinking; again, fullness is treated by emptying, and emptiness by fullness; toil by rest, and rest by toil. In a single brief statement: contraries are cures for contraries; for medicine is addition and subtraction — subtraction of what exceeds, addition of what falls short. Whoever does this best is the best physician; and whoever departs furthest from this departs furthest from the art as well. These things have been said as a prelude to the argument that is to come. Of all diseases, the manner is the same, while the location differs; diseases seem to have no resemblance to one another because of the difference and unlikeness of the locations. 2 There is, however, one form and one and the same cause of all diseases; what this is, I shall try to set out in the argument that follows. For the bodies of human beings and of other living creatures are nourished by three nourishments; and these nourishments have the following names: solids, liquids, and pneumata (breaths / moving airs). 3 Of pneumata, those within bodies are called physai (winds / flatulences), while those outside bodies are called air. This air is the greatest ruler of all things in all respects; and it is worth beholding its power. For wind is a flowing and a streaming of air; and whenever a great quantity of air makes the stream forceful, trees are uprooted and torn from their roots by the force of the pneuma, and the sea heaves with waves, and ships immense in size are hurled aloft. Such power, then, does it have in these things; yet it is invisible to sight, though visible to reasoning. For what could come about without it? Or from what is it absent? Or to what is it not present alongside? For everything between earth and heaven is full of pneuma. This is the cause of both winter and summer — becoming dense and cold in winter, while in summer becoming soft and becalmed. Moreover, the path of the sun and moon and stars is through pneuma; for pneuma is nourishment for fire, and fire deprived of pneuma cannot live; so that the everlasting circuit of the sun is sustained by air that is everlasting and fine. Moreover, it is clear that the sea also partakes of pneuma; for the creatures that swim could never live without partaking of pneuma, and how else could they partake except through the water, drawing the air from the water? Furthermore, the earth is the foundation of this, and this is the vehicle of the earth, and nothing is empty of it. Why, then, air is strong in other things has been stated; but for mortals it is the cause of life, and for the sick it is the cause of their diseases; and so great is the need of all bodies for pneuma that a human being, abstaining from all other things — both food and drink — might survive for two or three days and even longer, but if someone were to block the passages of pneuma into the body, he would perish in a short portion of a day, so great is the body's need of pneuma. 4 Furthermore, all other things human beings do with interruptions — for life is full of changes — but this alone all mortal creatures carry on continuously, sometimes inhaling, sometimes exhaling. That there is a great sharing of air common to all creatures has now been stated; and after this it must straightway be said that it is likely from nowhere else more than from this source that weaknesses arise, whenever this enters the body in greater or lesser amount, or all at once, or contaminated with sickly pollutions. 5 Concerning the whole matter, this is sufficient for me; and after this I shall proceed with the argument to the matters themselves, and I shall demonstrate that all diseases are the offspring and progeny of this. I shall begin first from the most common disease, fever; for this disease lies in wait upon all the other diseases, and most of all upon inflammation; and what happens in cases of injury makes this clear, for simultaneously with inflammation a swelling in the groin and fever follow at once. 6 There are two forms of fevers, to proceed in this manner: one is what is called the common epidemic afflicting all; the other is that which arises privately in those who live under a harmful diaita (regimen / way of living) because of that harmful diaita. The cause of both of these is air. The common fever is of such a character for this reason: because all draw in the same pneuma; and when a similar pneuma is mixed with the body in a similar way, the fevers too become similar. But perhaps someone will say: why, then, do such diseases fall not upon all living creatures, but upon a certain kind of them? Because, I would say, body differs from body, and nature from nature, and nourishment from nourishment; for the same things are not ill-suited or well-suited to all kinds of creatures, but different things are advantageous to different ones, and different things disadvantageous to different ones. Whenever, then, the air is tinged with such pollutions as are hostile to human nature, human beings fall sick; and whenever the air becomes ill-suited to some other kind of creature, those fall sick. The public diseases have been stated — when, how, to whom, and from what they arise; and I shall now go through for you the fever that arises from a harmful diaita. 7 Now a harmful diaita is of this sort: on the one hand, when one gives the body more nourishments — whether liquid or dry — than the body is able to bear, and sets no labor against the abundance of nourishments; and on the other hand, when one sends in varied and mutually unlike nourishments — for unlike things cause internal strife, and some are concocted more quickly, others more slowly. With much solid food there must also enter much pneuma; for with all things eaten and drunk, pneuma passes into the body, more or less. This is made clear by the following: belchings arise in most people after food and drink, for the enclosed air rushes back up when it bursts open the bubbles in which it is hidden. So when the body is filled with food, a still greater filling with pneuma comes about, as the food lingers; and the food lingers because, on account of its quantity, it cannot pass through; and with the lower cavity blocked, the physai run throughout the whole body; and the physai, falling upon the most blood-rich parts of the body, cooled them; and with those parts — where the springs and roots of the blood are — cooled, the shuddering passed through the whole body; and with all the blood cooled, the whole body shudders. It is for this reason, then, that chills first arise before fevers; and however the physai surge in quantity and coldness, such also is the rigor — stronger from more numerous and colder ones, and weaker from fewer and less cold ones. 8 During the chills, the tremblings of the body also arise in the following manner: the blood, alarmed at the present chill, runs together and rushes through the whole body toward the warmest parts. These are the rushings [to and fro]; and as the blood leaps from the extremities of the body, the viscera and the flesh tremble — for some parts of the body become full of blood, while others become bloodless; now the bloodless parts, on account of the cooling, do not stay still but pulsate, for warmth has departed from them; while the blood-full parts tremble on account of the abundance of blood, and it produces inflammations, for when it has become great it cannot stay still. Yawning occurs before fevers because a great quantity of air, having gathered and passing up all at once, has pried open and parted the mouth — for in that direction the passage is easy; just as steam rises in abundance from cauldrons when the water is boiling, so too when the body is heated, air coils together and is carried with force through the mouth. The joints also come apart before fevers, for the sinews, being warmed, slacken. Now when the greatest part of the blood has gathered and concentrated, the air that cooled the blood is heated again in turn, overpowered by the warmth; and becoming fiery hot and glowing it works heat into the whole body. The blood works together with it, for it is melted as it is set on fire and becomes pneuma from itself; and as the pneuma presses against the pores of the body, sweats arise; for the pneuma, condensing into water, pours out, and passing through the pores makes its way outside, in the same manner as steam rising from boiling water, if it has a solid surface against which to strike, thickens and condenses, and drops fall from the lids upon which the steam strikes. Pains of the head arise simultaneously with fever for this reason: narrowness of passage for the blood's course through the head occurs; for the blood-vessels are filled with air, and being filled and swollen they produce pain in the head — and further, the hot blood, forced with force through a narrow way, cannot pass through quickly, since there are many obstacles and blockages standing in its way; this is also why pulsings arise around the temples. Fevers arise for this reason, then, and so do the pains and diseases that attend the fevers. As for the other disorders — such as intestinal obstructions, or coilings, or other kinds of stoppages — I consider it clear that physai are the cause of all of them; for the passage of pneuma is the cause of all such things, since this, whenever it falls upon soft and unaccustomed and untouched parts, slips through the flesh like an arrow embedded; and it falls sometimes upon the hypochondria, sometimes upon the flanks, sometimes upon both; this is why people try to soften the pain by applying fomentations of heat from outside, for the pneuma, being rarefied by the warmth of the fomentation, passes through the body, so that some respite from the pains comes about. 10 Perhaps someone would say: how then do fluxes arise on account of the physai? Or in what way is this the cause of hemorrhages around the chest? I think I shall make clear that these too arise from the same cause. When the blood-vessels around the head are filled with air, first the head becomes heavy as the physai press within; then the blood swirls, unable to spread through on account of the narrowness of the passages; and the thinnest part of the blood is forced out along the blood-vessels; and when this fluid gathers, it flows through other channels; and wherever it arrives in the body in a rush, there the disease settles. If it comes to the eye, there is pain of that; if to the ears, there the disease is; if to the nostrils, a runny nose arises; if to the chest, it is called hoarseness. For phlegm mixed with sharp chymoi (bodily fluids) — wherever it falls upon unaccustomed parts, it causes ulceration; and a flux falling upon the throat, which is soft, produces roughnesses; for the pneuma breathed through the throat goes into the chest and again comes out by the same way; and so when the pneuma coming up from below encounters the flux going downward, coughing follows, and the phlegm is thrown up; and with these things being such, the throat becomes ulcerated, roughened, and heated, and being hot it draws the moisture from the head; and the head in turn receives from the rest of the body and passes it this way; and so when the flux has grown accustomed to flow this way and the channels have been worn into ruts, it passes on also into the chest, and the phlegm, being sharp, falling upon the flesh ulcerates it and ruptures the blood-vessels. When blood has poured out into a foreign place, as it lingers and rots it becomes pus, and it can neither go up nor go down — upward the way is not easy, being a kind of uphill for a liquid thing and for anything else that has weight; and downward the diaphragm is a barrier. Why then does the flux rupture — in some cases spontaneously, in others because of exertions? Spontaneously, when air on its own coming into the blood-vessels causes narrowing of passage for the blood's course through; for then the blood, pressed and become abundant, ruptures the channels wherever it presses hardest; and those who hemorrhaged because of abundance of exertions — in these too the exertions filled the blood-vessels with pneuma, for it is necessary that the pneuma be held in the part that is laboring, and the rest follows as has been described. All ruptures arise for this reason: when the flesh is driven apart from itself by force, and pneuma slips into the gap, this causes the pain. 12 But if the physai, passing through the flesh, make the pores of the body loose, and moisture follows after the physai — having its way prepared by the air — and the body becoming drenched, the flesh wastes away and swellings descend into the lower legs; and this disease is called dropsy. The greatest sign that physai are the cause of the disease is this: certain persons already in a fatal condition have been cauterized and drained of the water; and immediately the water coming out from the cavity appears much, but as time passes it becomes less. Why this happens too is clear: because immediately the water is full of air, and the air provides great bulk; but as the pneuma departs, the water itself is left behind; hence it seems little in amount, but is equal in substance. Another sign is this: when the cavity has been completely drained, within not even three days it fills again. What then is it that filled it, if not pneuma? For what else could have filled it up so quickly? Surely not enough drink entered the body; moreover, there is no flesh remaining to melt down — for what is left is bones and sinews and fibers, from none of which could any increase of water have come. The cause of dropsy has now been stated. Apoplexy also arises from physai: when physai that are cold and numerous infiltrate and inflate the flesh, those parts of the body become without sensation; and if many physai run through the whole body, the whole person becomes struck with apoplexy; if through some part, that part is struck; and if they depart, the disease ceases; if they remain, it remains. And that this is so, those afflicted yawn continuously. 14 It seems to me that this is also what produces the disease called the sacred disease; and by the same arguments by which I have persuaded myself, I shall try to persuade my listeners as well. I hold, first, that nothing in the body contributes more to understanding than the blood; and when the blood remains in its settled state, understanding remains too; but when the blood shifts, understanding shifts with it. That this is so, many things bear witness: first, what is common to all creatures — sleep — this testifies to what has been said; for when sleep comes over the body, then the blood cools, since sleep by its nature cools; and with the blood cooled, the passages of movement become more sluggish — and this is clear: for bodies sink and grow heavy (since all heavy things by nature are carried downward), and the eyes close, and understanding changes, and certain other impressions linger within, which are called dreams. Again, in states of drunkenness, when the blood has suddenly become more abundant, the psychai (life-principles) and the thoughts within the psychai shift, and people become forgetful of present evils and hopeful of good things to come. I could say many such things, in which the changes of the blood change understanding. If the blood is entirely and completely thrown into turmoil, understanding is entirely destroyed; for what we have learned and what we recognize are habits; and so when we depart from our accustomed habit, understanding is lost to us. I say that the sacred disease arises in this way: when a great quantity of pneuma, mixed with all the blood, spreads throughout the whole body, many blockages arise in many places throughout the blood-vessels; and then, when a great quantity of air presses heavily into the thick and blood-full blood-vessels and remains pressing, the blood is prevented from passing through; in one place it is at a standstill, in another it passes sluggishly, in another more quickly; and since the journey of the blood through the body has become uneven, all manner of unevennesses follow — for the whole body is pulled in all directions, and the parts of the body are shaken, serving the tumult and disorder of the blood, and all manner of distortions arise in all manner of ways; and throughout this time they are without sensation of all things — deaf to what is said, blind to what is happening, insensible to pains; thus the air, thrown into disorder, threw the blood into disorder and polluted it. Foaming at the mouth runs up understandably: for the air, passing through the jugular blood-vessels, rises of itself and brings with it the thinnest part of the blood; and the fluid, being mixed with the air, becomes white — for through thin membranes the air, being pure, shows through; and this is why all foams appear white. When those seized by this disease cease from their illness and from the present storm, I shall explain. When the body has been exercised by exertions and warmed, the blood too is warmed; and the blood, being warmed, heats the physai; and these, being fully warmed, are dissolved and dissolve the massing of the blood — some departing together with the pneuma, others with the phlegm; and when the foam has subsided and the blood has settled and calm has come about in the body, the disease has ceased. The physai are seen to make the most trouble throughout all diseases; all other things are co-causes and secondary causes, but this has been shown by me to be the cause of diseases. 15 I promised to set out the cause of diseases; I have demonstrated that pneuma rules also in other matters and in the bodies of living creatures; I have led the argument to the recognizable among the disorders, in which the hypothesis has appeared true; for if I were to speak concerning all the disorders, the argument would become longer but in no way more exact, nor more convincing.