The Project Gutenberg EBook of Introduction to the Philosophy and Writings
of Plato, by Thomas Taylor

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net


Title: Introduction to the Philosophy and Writings of Plato

Author: Thomas Taylor

Release Date: November 22, 2003 [EBook #10214]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO Latin-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTRODUCTION TO THE ***




Produced by Jake Jaqua




INTRODUCTION TO THE PHILOSOPHY AND WRITINGS OF PLATO

By

THOMAS TAYLOR




"Philosophy," says Hierocles, "is the purification and perfection of human
life. It is the purification, indeed, from material irrationality, and the
mortal body; but the perfection, in consequence of being the resumption of
our proper felicity, and a reascent to the divine likeness. To effect these
two is the province of Virtue and Truth; the former exterminating the
immoderation of the passions; and the latter introducing the divine form to
those who are naturally adapted to its reception."

Of philosophy thus defined, which may be compared to a luminous pyramid,
terminating in Deity, and having for its basis the rational soul of man
and its spontaneous unperverted conceptions,--of this philosophy, August,
magnificent, and divine, Plato may be justly called the primary leader
and hierophant, through whom, like the mystic light in the inmost
recesses of some sacred temple, it first shone forth with occult and
venerable splendour.[1] It may indeed be truly said of the whole of this
philosophy, that it is the greatest good which man can participate: for
if it purifies us from the defilements of the passions and assimilates us
to Divinity, it confers on us the proper felicity of our nature. Hence it
is easy to collect its pre-eminence to all other philosophies; to show
that where they oppose it, they are erroneous; that so far as they
contain any thing scientific they are allied to it; and that at best they
are but rivulets derived from this vast ocean of truth.

------------------
[1] In the mysteries a light of this kind shone forth from the adytum of
the temple in which they were exhibited.
------------------

To evince that the philosophy of Plato possesses this preeminence; that
its dignity and sublimity are unrivaled; that it is the parent of all
that ennobles man; and, that it is founded on principles, which neither
time can obliterate, nor sophistry subvert, is the principal design of
this Introduction.

To effect this design, I shall in the first place present the reader with
the outlines of the principal dogmas of Plato's philosophy. The undertaking
is indeed no less novel than arduous, since the author of it has to tread
in paths which have been untrodden for upwards of a thousand years, and
to bring to light truths which for that extended period have been
concealed in Greek. Let not the reader, therefore, be surprised at the
solitariness of the paths through which I shall attempt to conduct him,
or at the novelty of the objects which will present themselves in the
journey: for perhaps he may fortunately recollect that he has traveled
the same road before, that the scenes were once familiar to him, and that
the country through which he is passing is his native land. At, least, if
his sight should be dim, and his memory oblivious, (for the objects which
he will meet with can only be seen by the most piercing eyes,) and his
absence from them has been lamentably long, let him implore the power
of wisdom,

  From mortal mists to purify his eyes,
  That God and man he may distinctly see.

Let us also, imploring the assistance of the same illuminating power, begin
the solitary journey.

Of all the dogmas of Plato, that concerning the first principle of things
as far transcends in sublimity the doctrine of other philosophers of a
different sect, on this subject, as this supreme cause of all transcends
other causes. For, according to Plato, the highest God, whom in the
Republic he calls the good, and in the Parmenides the one, is not only
above soul and intellect, but is even superior to being itself. Hence,
since every thing which can in any respect be known, or of which any
thing can be asserted, must be connected with the universality of things,
but the first cause is above all things, it is very properly said by
Plato to be perfectly ineffable. The first hypothesis therefore of his,
Parmenides, in which all things are denied of this immense principle,
concludes as follows: "The one therefore is in no respect. So it seems.
Hence it is not in such a manner as to be one, for thus it would be
being, and participate of essence; but as it appears, the one neither is
one, nor is, if it be proper to believe in reasoning of this kind. It
appears so. But can any thing either belong to, or be affirmed of that,
which is not? How can it? Neither therefore does any name belong to it,
nor discourse, nor any science, nor sense, nor opinion. It does not
appear that there can. Hence it can neither be named, nor spoken of, nor
conceived by opinion, nor be known, nor perceived by any being. So it
seems." And here it must be observed that this conclusion respecting the
highest principle of things, that he is perfectly ineffable and
inconceivable, is the result of a most scientific series of negations, in
which not only all sensible and intellectual beings are denied of him,
but even natures the most transcendently allied to him, his first and
most divine progeny. For that which so eminently distinguishes the
philosophy of Plato from others is this, that every part of it is stamped
with the character of science. The vulgar indeed proclaim the Deity to be
ineffable; but as they have no scientific knowledge that he is so, this
is nothing more than a confused and indistinct perception of the most
sublime of all truths, like that of a thing seen between sleeping and
waking, like Phaeacia to Ulysses when sailing to his native land,

  That lay before him indistinct and vast,
  Like a broad shield amid the watr'y waste.

In short, an unscientific perception of the ineffable nature of the
Divinity resembles that of a man, who on surveying the heavens, should
assert of the altitude of its highest part, that it surpasses that of
the loftiest tree, and is therefore immeasurable. But to see this
scientifically, is like a survey of this highest part of the heavens by
the astronomer; for he by knowing the height of the media between us and
it, knows also scientifically that it transcends in altitude not only the
loftiest tree; but the summits of air and aether, the moon, and even the
sun itself.

Let us therefore investigate what is the ascent to the ineffably, and
after what manner it is accomplished, according to Plato, from the last
of things, following the profound and most inquisitive Damascius as our
leader in this arduous investigation. Let our discourse also be common
to other principles, and to things proceeding from them to that which is
last, and let us, beginning from that which is perfectly effable and
known to sense, ascend too the ineffable, and establish in silence, as in
a port, the parturitions of truth concerning it. Let us then assume the
following axiom, in which as in a secure vehicle we may safely pass from
hence thither. I say, therefore, that the unindigent is naturally prior
to the indigent. For that which is in want of another is naturally
adapted from necessity to be subservient to that of which it is indigent.
But if they are mutually in want of each other, each being indigent of
the other in a different respect, neither of them will be the principle.
For the unindigent is most adapted to that which is truly the principle.
And if it is in want of any thing, according to this it will not be the
principle. It is however necessary that the principles should be this
very thing, the principle alone. The unindigent therefore pertains to
this, nor must it by any means be acknowledged that there is any thing
prior to it. This however, would be acknowledged if it had any connection
with the indigent.

Let us then consider body, (that is, a triply extended substance,) endued
with quality; for this is the first thing effable by us, and is, sensible.
Is this then the principle of things? But it is two things, body, and
quality which is in body as a subject. Which of these therefore is by
nature prior? For both are indigent of their proper parts; and that also
which is in a subject is indigent of the subject. Shall we say then that
body itself is the principle of the first essence? But this is impossible.
For, in the first place, the principle will not receive any thing from that
which is posterior to itself. But body, we say is the recipient of quality.
Hence quality, and a subsistence in conjunction with it, are not derived
from body, since quality is present with body as something different. And,
in the second place, body is every way, divisible; its several parts are
indigent of each other, and the whole is indigent of all the parts. As it
is indigent, therefore, and receives its completion from things which are
indigent, it will not be entirely unindigent.

Further still, if it is not one but united, it will require, as Plato
says, the connecting one. It is likewise something common and formless,
being as it were a certain matter. It requires, therefore, ornament and
the possession of form, that it may not be merely body, but a body with a
certain particular quality; as for instance, a fiery, or earthly, body,
and, in short, body adorned and invested with a particular quality. Hence
the things which accede to it, finish and adorn it. Is then that which
accedes the principle? But this is impossible. For it does not abide in
itself, nor does it subsist alone, but is in a subject of which also it
is indigent. If, however, some one should assert that body is not a
subject, but one of the elements in each, as for instance, animal in
horses and man, thus also each will be indigent of the other, viz. this
subject, and that which is in the subject; or rather the common element,
animal, and the peculiarities, as the rational and irrational, will be
indigent. For elements are always, indigent of each other, and that which
is composed from elements is indigent of the elements. In short, this
sensible nature, and which is so manifest to us, is neither body, for
this does not of itself move the senses, nor quality; for this does not
possess an interval commensurate with sense. Hence, that which is the
object of sight, is neither body nor color; but colored body, or color
corporalized, is that which is motive of the sight. And universally, that
which its sensible, which is body with a particular quality, is motive of
sense. From hence it is evident that the thing which excites the sense is
something incorporeal. For if it was body, it would not yet be the object
of sense. Body therefore requires that which is incorporeal, and that
which is incorporeal, body. For an incorporeal nature, is not of itself
sensible. It is, however, different from body, because these two possess
prerogatives different from each other, and neither of these subsists
prior to the other; but being elements of one sensible thing, they are
present with each other; the one imparting interval to that which is void
of interval, but the other introducing to that which is formless,
sensible variety invested with form. In the third place, neither are both
these together the principles; since they are not unindigent. For they
stand in need of their proper elements, and of that which conducts them
to the generation of one form. For body cannot effect this, since it is
of itself impotent; nor quality, since it is not able to subsist separate
from the body in which it is, or together with which it has its being.
The composite therefore either produces itself, which is impossible, for
it does not converge to itself, but the whole of it is multifariously
dispersed, or it is not produced by itself, and there is some other
principle prior to it.

Let it then be supposed to be that which is called nature, being a
principle of motion and rest, in that which is moved and at rest,
essentially and not according to accident. For this is something more
simple, and is fabricative of composite forms. If, however, it is in the
things fabricated, and does not subsist separate from nor prior to them,
but stands in need of them for its being, it will not be unindigent;
though its possesses something transcendent with respect to them, viz.
the power of fashioning and fabricating them. For it has its being
together with them, and has in them an inseparable subsistence; so
that, when they are it is, and is not when they are not, and this in
consequence of perfectly verging to them, and not being able to sustain
that which is appropriate. For the power of increasing, nourishing, and
generating similars, and the one prior to these three, viz. nature, is
not wholly incorporeal, but is nearly a certain quality of body, from
which it alone differs, in that it imparts to the composite to be
inwardly moved and at rest. For the quality of that which is sensible
imparts that which is apparent in matter, and that which falls on sense.
But body imparts interval every way extended; and nature, an inwardly
proceeding natural energy, whether according to place only, or according
to nourishing, increasing, and generating things similar. Nature,
however, is inseparable from a subject, and is indigent, so that it will
not be in short the principle, since it is indigent of that which is
subordinate. For it will not be wonderful, if being a certain principle,
it is indigent of the principle above it; but it would be wonderful if it
were indigent of things posterior to itself, and of which it is supposed
to be the principle.

By the like arguments we may show that the principle cannot be irrational
soul, whether sensitive, or orectic. For if it appears that it has
something separate, together with impulsive and Gnostic enemies, yet at
the same time it is bound in body, and has something inseparable from it;
since it is notable to convert itself to itself, but its enemy is mingled
with its subject. For it is evident that its essence is something of this
kind; since if it were liberated and in itself free, it would also evince
a certain independent enemy, and would not always be converted to body;
but sometimes it would be converted to itself; or though it were always
converted to body, yet it would judge and explore itself. The energies,
therefore, of the multitude of mankind, (though they are conversant with
externals,) yet, at the same time they exhibit that which is separate
about them. For they consult how they should engage in them, and observe
that deliberation is necessary, in order to effect or be passive to
apparent good, or to decline something of the contrary. But the impulses
of other animals are uniform and spontaneous, are moved together with the
sensible organs, and require the senses alone that they may obtain from
sensibles the pleasurable, and avoid the painful. If, therefore, the body
communicates in pleasure and pain, and is affected in a certain respect
by them, it is evident that the psychical energies, (i.e. energies
belonging to the soul) are exerted, mingled with bodies, and are not
purely psychical, but are also corporeal; for perception is of the
animated body, or of the soul corporalized, though in such perception the
psychical idiom predominates over the corporeal; just as in bodies, the
corporeal idiom has dominion according to interval and subsistence. As
the irrational soul, therefore, has its being in something different from
itself, so far it is indigent of the subordinate: but a thing of this
kind will not be the principle.

Prior them to this essence, we see a certain form separate from a
subject, and converted to itself, such as is the rational nature. Our
soul, therefore, presides over its proper energies and corrects itself.
This, however, would not be the case, unless it was converted to itself;
and it would not be converted, to itself unless it had a separate
essence. It is not therefore indigent of the subordinate. Shall we then
say that it is the most perfect principle? But, it does not at once exert
all its energies, but is always indigent of the greater part. The
principle, however, wishes to have nothing indigent: but the rational
nature is an essence in want of its own energies. Some one, however, may
say that it is an eternal essence, and has never-failing essential
energies, always concurring with its essence, according to the self-moved
and ever vital, and that it is therefore unindigent; but the principle is
perfectly unindigent. Soul therefore, and which exerts mutable energies,
will not be the most proper principle. Hence it is necessary that there
should be something prior to this, which is in every respect immutable,
according to nature, life, and knowledge, and according to all powers and
enemies, such as we assert an eternal and immutable essence to be, and
such as is much honoured intellect, to which Aristotle having ascended,
thought he had discovered the first principle. For what can be wanting to
that which perfectly comprehends in itself its own plenitudes (oleromata),
and of which neither addition nor ablation changes any thing belonging to
it? Or is not this also, one and many, whole and parts, containing in
itself, things first, middle, and last? The subordinate plenitudes also
stand in need of the more excellent, and the more excellent of the
subordinate, and the whole of the parts. For the things related are
indigent of each other, and what are first of what are last, through the
same cause; for it is not of itself that which is first. Besides, the one
here is indigent of the many, because it has its subsistence in the many.
Or it may be said, that this one is collective of the many, and this not
by itself, but in conjunction with them. Hence there is much of the
indigent in this principle. For since intellect generates in itself its
proper plenitudes from which the whole at once receives its completion,
it will be itself indigent of itself, not only that which is generated of
that which generates, but also that which generates, of that which is
generated, in order to the whole completion of that which wholly generates
itself. Further still, intellect understands and is understood, is
intellective of and intelligible to itself, and both these. Hence the
intellectual is indigent of the intelligible, as of its proper object of
desire; and the intelligible is in want of the intellectual, because it
wishes to be the intelligible of it. Both also are indigent of either,
since the possession is always accompanied with indigence, in the same
manner as the world is always present with matter. Hence a certain
indigence is naturally coessentiallized with intellect, so that it cannot
be the most proper principle. Shall we, therefore, in the next place,
direct our attention to the most simple of beings, which Plato calls the
one being, [Greek: en on]? For as there is no separation there throughout
the Whole, nor any multitude, or order, or duplicity, or conversion to
itself, what indigence will there appear to me, in the perfectly united?
And especially what indigence will there be of that which is subordinate?
Hence the great Parmenides ascended to this most safe principle, as that
which is most unindigent. Is it not, however, here necessary to attend to
the conception of Plato, that the united is not the one itself, but that
which is passive[2] to it? And this being the case, it is evident that it
ranks after the one; for it is supposed to be the united and not the one
itself. If also being is composed from the elements bound and infinity,
as appears from the Philebus of Plato, where he calls it that which is
mixt, it will be indigent of its elements. Besides, if the conception of
being is different from that of being united, and that which is a whole
is both united and being, these will be indigent of each other, and the
whole which is called one being is indigent of the two. And though the
one in this is better than being, yet this is indigent of being, in order
to the subsistence of one being. But if being here supervenes the one, as
it were, form in that which is mixt and united, just as the idiom of man
in that which is collectively rational-mortal-animal, thus also the one
will be indigent of being. If, however, to speak more properly, the one
is two-fold; this being the cause of the mixture, and subsisting prior to
being, but that conferring rectitude, on being,--if this be the case,
neither will the indigent perfectly desert this nature. After all these,
it may be said that the one will be perfectly unindigent. For neither is
it indigent of that which is posterior to itself for its subsistence,
since the truly one is by itself separated from all things; nor is it
indigent of that which is inferior or more excellent in itself; for there
is nothing in it besides itself; nor is it in want of itself. But it is
one, because neither has it any duplicity with respect to itself. For not
even the relation of itself to itself must be asserted of the truly one;
since it is perfectly simple. This, therefore, is the most unindigent of
all things. Hence this is the principle and the cause of all; and this is
at once the first of all things. If these qualities, however, are present
with it, it will not be the one. Or may we not say that all things
subsist in the one according to the one? And that both these subsist in
it, and such other things as we predicate of it, as, for instance, the
most simple, the most excellent, the most powerful, the preserver of all
things, and the good itself? If these things, however, are thus true of
the one, it will thus also be indigent of things posterior to itself,
according to those very things which we add to it. For the principle is,
and is said to be the principle of things proceeding from it, and the
cause is the cause of things caused, and the first is the first of things
arranged, posterior to it.[3]

------------------
[2] See the Sophista of Plato, where this is asserted.

[3] For a thing cannot be said to be a principle or cause without the
subsistence of the things of which it is the principle or cause. Hence,
so far as it is a principle or cause, it will be indigent of the
subsistence of these.
------------------

Further still, the simple subsists according to a transcendency of other
things, the most powerful according to power with relation to the subjects
of it; and the good, the desirable, and the preserving, are so called with
reference to things benefitted, preserved, and desiring. And if it should
be said to be all things according to the preassumption of all things in
itself, it will indeed be said to be so according to the one alone, and
will at the same time be the one cause of all things prior to all, and will
be thus, and no other according to the one. So far, therefore, as it is the
one alone, it will be unindigent; but so far as unindigent, it will be the
first principle, and stable root of all principles. So far, however, as it
is the principle and the first cause of all things, and is pre-established
as the object of desire to all things, so far it appears to be in a certain
respect indigent of the things to which it is related. It has therefore, if
it be lawful so to speak, an ultimate vestige of indigence, just as on the
contrary matter has an ultimate echo of the unindigent, or a most obscure
and debile impression of the one. And language indeed appears to be here
subverted. For so far as it is the one, it is also unindigent, since the
principle has appeared to subsist according to the most unindigent and the
one. At the same time, however, so far as it is the one, it is also the
principle; and so far as it is the one it is unindigent, but so far as the
principle, indigent. Hence so far as it is unindigent, it is also indigent,
though not according to the same; but with respect to being that which it
is, it is undigent; but as producing and comprehending other things in
itself, it is indigent. This, however, is the peculiarity of the one; so
that it is both unindigent and indigent according to the one. Not indeed
than it is each of these, in such a manner as we divide it in speaking of
it, but it is one alone; and according to this is both other things, and
that which is indigent. For how is it possible, it should not be indigent
also so far as it is the one? Just as it is all other things which proceed
from it. For the indigent also is, something belonging to all things.
Something else, therefore, must be investigated which in no respect has any
kind of indigence. But of a thing of this kind it cannot with truth be
asserted that it is the principle, nor can it even be said of it that it is
most unindigent, though this appears to be the most venerable of all
assertions.[4]

---------------
[4] See the extracts from Damascius in the additional notes to the third
volume, which contain an inestimable treasury of the most profound
conceptions concerning the ineffable.
------------------

For this signifies transcendency, and an exemption from the indigent. We do
not, however, think it proper to call this even the perfectly exempt; but
that which is in every respect incapable of being apprehended, and about
which we must be perfectly silent, will be the most, just axiom of our
conception in the present investigation; nor yet this as uttering any
thing, but as rejoicing in not uttering, and by this venerating that
immense unknown. This then is the mode of ascent to that which is called
the first, or rather to that which is beyond every thing which can be
conceived, or become the subject of hypothesis.

There is also another mode, which does not place the unindigent before
the indigent, but considers that which is indigent of a more excellent
nature, as subsisting secondary to that which is more excellent. Every
where then, that which is in capacity is secondary to that which is in
energy. For that it may proceed into energy, and that it may not remain
in capacity in vain, it requires that which is in energy. For the more
excellent never blossoms from the subordinate nature. Let this then be
defined by us according to common unperverted conceptions. Matter
therefore has prior to itself material form; because all matter is form
in capacity, whether it be the first matter which is perfectly formless,
or the second which subsists according to body void of quality, or in
other words mere triple extension, to which it is likely those directed
their attention who first investigated sensibles, and which at first
appeared to be the only thing that had a subsistence. For the existence
of that which is common in the different elements, persuaded them that
there is a certain body void of quality. But since, among bodies of this
kind, some possess the governing principle inwardly, and others
externally, such as things artificial, it is necessary besides quality to
direct our attention to nature, as being something better than qualities,
and which is prearranged in the order of cause, as art is, of things
artificial. Of things, however, which are inwardly governed, some appear
to possess being alone, but others to be nourished and increased, and to
generate things similar to themselves. There is therefore another certain
cause prior to the above-mentioned nature, viz. a vegetable power itself.
But it is evident that all such things as are ingenerated in body as in a
subject, are of themselves incorporeal, though they become corporeal by
the participation of that in which they subsist, so that they are said
to be and are material in consequence of what they suffer from matter.
Qualities therefore, and still more natures, and in a still greater
degree the vegetable life, preserve the incorporeal in themselves. Since
however, sense exhibits another more conspicuous life, pertaining to
beings which are moved according to impulse and place, this must be
established prior to that, as being a more proper principle, and as the
supplier of a certain better form, that of a self-moved animal, and which
naturally precedes plants rooted in the earth. The animal however, is not
accurately self-moved. For the whole is not such throughout they whole;
but a part moves and a part is moved. This therefore is the apparent
self-moved. Hence, prior to this it is necessary there should be that
which is truly self-moved, and which according to the whole of itself
moves ands is moved, that the apparently self-moved may be the image of
this. And indeed the soul which moves the body must be considered as a
more proper self-moved essence. This, however, is twofold, the one
rational, the other irrational. For that there is a rational soul is
evident: or has not every one a cosensation of himself, more clear or
more obscure, when converted to himself in the attentions to and
investigations of himself, and in the vital and Gnostic animadversions of
himself? For the essence which is capable of this, and which can collect
universals by reasoning, will very justly be rational. The irrational
soul also, though it does not appear to investigate these things, and to
reason with itself, yet at the same time it moves bodies from place to
place, being itself previously moved from itself; for at different times
it exerts a different impulse. Does it therefore move itself from one
impulse to another? or it is moved by something else, as, for instance,
by the whole rational soul in the universe? But it would be absurd to say
that the energies of every irrational soul are not the energies of that
soul, but of one more divine; since they are infinite, and mingled with
much of the base and imperfect. For this would be just the same as to say
that the irrational enemies are the energies of the rational soul. I omit
to mention the absurdity of supposing that the whole essence is not
generative of its proper energies. For if the irrational soul is a
certain essence, it will have peculiar energies of its own, not imparted
from something else, but proceeding from itself. This irrational soul,
therefore, will also move itself at different times to different impulses.
But if it moves itself, it will be converted to itself. If, however, this
be the case, it will have a separate subsistence, and will not be in a
subject. It is therefore rational, if it looks to itself: for in being
converted to, it surveys itself. For when extended to things external, it
looks to externals, or rather it looks to colored body, but does not see
itself, because sight itself is neither body nor that which is colored.
Hence it does not revert to itself. Neither therefore is this the case
with any other irrational nature. For neither does the phantasy project a
type of itself, but of that which is sensible, as for instance of colored
body. Nor does irrational appetite desire itself, but aspires after a
certain object of desire, such as honor, or pleasure, or riches. It does
not therefore move itself.

But if some one, on seeing that brutes exert rational energies, should
apprehend that these also participate of the first self-moved, and on
this account possess a soul converted to itself, it may perhaps be
granted to him that these also are rational natures, except that they
are not so essentially, but according to participation, and this most
obscure, just as the rational soul may be said to be intellectual
according to participation, as always projecting common conceptions
without distortion. It must however be observed, that the extreme are
that which is capable of being perfectly separated, such as the rational
form, and that which is perfectly inseparable, such as corporeal quality,
and that in the middle of these nature subsists, which verges to the
inseparable, having a small representation of the separable and the
irrational soul, which verges to the separable; or it appears in a
certain respect to subsist by itself, separate from a subject; so that
it becomes doubtful whether it is self-motive, or alter-motive. For it
contains an abundant vestige of self-motion, but not that which is true
and converted to itself, and on this account perfectly separated from
a subject. And the vegetable soul has in a certain respect a middle
subsistence. On this account to some of the ancients it appeared to be
a certain soul, but to others, nature.

Again, therefore, that we may return to the proposed object of
investigation, how can a self-motive nature of this kind, which is
mingled with the alter-motive, be the first principle of things? For
it neither subsists from itself, nor does it in reality perfect itself;
but it requires a certain other nature, both for its subsistence and
perfection: and prior to it is that which is truly self-moved. Is
therefore that which is properly self-moved the principle, and is it
indigent of no form more excellent than itself? Or is not that which
moves always naturally prior to that which is moved; and in short does
not every form which is pure from its contrary subsist by itself prior
to that which is mingled with it? And is not the pure the cause of the
commingled? For that which is coessentialized with another has also an
energy mingled with that other. So that a self-moved nature will indeed,
make itself; but thus subsisting it will be at the same time moving and
moved, but will not be made a moving nature only. For neither is it this
alone. Every form however is always alone according to its first
subsistence; so that there will be that which moves only without being
moved. And indeed it would be absurd that there should be that which is
moved only such as body, but that prior both to that which is self-moved
and that which is moved only, there should not be that which moves only.
For it is evident that there must be, since this will be a more excellent
nature, and that which is self-moved, so far as it moves itself, is more
excellent than so far as it is moved. It is necessary therefore that the
essence which moves unmoved, should be first, as that which is moved, not
being motive, is the third, in the middle of which is the self-moved,
which we say requires that which moves in order to its becoming motive.
In short, if it is moved, it will not abide, so far as it is moved; and
if it moves, it is necessary it should remain moving so far as it moves.
Whence then does it derive the power of abiding? For from itself it
derives the power either of being moved only, or of at the same time
abiding and being moved wholly according to the same. Whence then does
it simply obtain the power of abiding? Certainly from that which simply
abides. But, this is an immovable cause. We must therefore admit that
the immovable is prior to the self moved. Let us consider then if the
immovable is the most proper principle? But how is this possible? For the
immovable contains as numerous a multitude immovably; as the self-moved
self-moveably. Besides an immovable separation must necessarily subsist
prior to a self-moveable separation. The unmoved therefore is at the same
time one and many, and is at the same time united and separated, and a
nature of this kind is denominated intellect. But it is evident that
the united in this is naturally prior to and more honorable than the
separated. For separation is always indigent of union; but not, on the
contrary, union of separation. Intellect, however, has not the united
pure from its opposite. For intellectual form is coessentialized with the
separated, through the whole of itself. Hence that which is in a certain
respect united requires that which is simply united; and that which
subsists with another is indigent of that which subsists by itself; and
that which subsists according to participation, of that which subsists
according to essence. For intellect being self-subsistent produces itself
as united, and at the same time separated. Hence it subsists according to
both these. It is produced therefore from that which is simply united and
alone united. Prior therefore to that which is formal is the
uncircumscribed, and undistributed into forms. And this is that which we
call the united, and which the wise men of antiquity denominated being,
possessing in one contraction multitude, subsisting prior to the many.

Having therefore arrived thus far, let us here rest for a while, and
consider with ourselves, whether being is the investigated principle of
all things. For what will there be which does not participate of being?
May we not say, that this, if it is the united, will be secondary to the
one, and that by participating of the one it becomes the united? But in
short; if we conceive the one to be something different from being, if
being is prior to the one, it will not participate of the one. It will
therefore be many only, and these will be infinitely infinite. But if the
one is with being, and being with the one, and they are either coordinate
or divided from each other, there will be two principles, and the
above-mentioned absurdity will happen. Or they will mutually participate
of each other, and there will be two elements. Or they are parts of
something else, consisting from both. And, if this be the case, what will
that be which leads them to union with each other? For if the one unites
being to itself (for this may be said), the one also will energize prior
to being, that it may call forth and convert being to itself. The one,
therefore, will subsist from itself self-perfect prior to being. Further
still, the more simple is always prior to the more composite. If
therefore they are similarly simple, there will either be two principles,
or one from the two, and this will be a composite. Hence the simple and
perfectly incomposite is prior to this, which must be either one, or not
one; and if not one, it must either be many, or nothing. But with respect
to nothing, if it signifies that which is perfectly void, it will signify
something vain. But if it signifies the arcane, this will not even be
that which is simple. In short, we cannot conceive any principle more
simple than the one. The one therefore is in every respect prior to
being. Hence this is the principle of all things, and Plato recurring to
this, did not require any other principle in his reasonings. For the
arcane in which this our ascent terminates is not the principle of
reasoning, nor of knowledge, nor of animals, nor of beings, nor of
unities, but simply of all things, being arranged above every conception
and suspicion that we can frame. Hence Plato indicates nothing concerning
it, but makes his negations of all other things except the one, from the
one. For that the one is he denies in the last place, but he does not
make a negation of the one. He also, besides this, even denies this
negation, but not the one. He denies, too, name and conception, and all
knowledge, and what can be said more, whole itself and every being. But
let there be the united and the unical, and, if you will, the two
principles bound and the infinite. Plato, however, never in any respect
makes a negation of the one which is beyond all these. Hence in the
Sophista he considers it as the one prior to being, and in the Republic
as the good beyond every essence; but at the same time the one alone is
left. Whether however is it known and effable, or unknown and ineffable?
Or is it in a certain respect these, and in a certain respect not? For by
a negation of this it may be said the ineffable is affirmed. And again,
by the simplicity of knowledge it will be known or suspected, but by
composition perfectly unknown. Hence neither will it be apprehended by
negation. And in short, so far as it is admitted to be one, so far it
will be coarranged with other things, which are the subject of position.
For it is the summit of things, which subsist according to position. At
the same time there is much in it of the ineffable and unknown, the
uncoordinated, and that which is deprived of position, but these are
accompanied with a representation of the Contraries: and the former are
more excellent, than the latter. But every where things pure subsist
prior to their contraries, and such as are unmingled to the commingled.
For either things more excellent subsist in the one essentially, and in a
certain respect the contraries of these also will be there at the same
time; or they subsist according to participation, and are derived from
that which is first a thing of this kind. Prior to the one, therefore, is
that which is simply and perfectly ineffable, without position,
uncoordinated, and incapable of being apprehended, to which also the
ascent of the present discourse hastens through the clearest indications,
omitting none of those natures between the first and the last of things.

Such then is the ascent to the highest God, according to the theology of
Plato, venerably preserving his ineffable exemption from all things, and
his transcendency, which cannot be circumscribed by any gnostic energy,
and at the same time, unfolding the paths which lead upwards to him, and
enkindling that luminous summit of the soul, by which she is conjoined
with the incomprehensible one.

From this truly ineffable principle, exempt from all essence, power, and
energy, a multitude of divine natures, according to Plato, immediately
proceeds. That this must necessarily be the case, will be admitted by the
reader who understands what has been already discussed, and is fully
demonstrated by Plato in the Parmenides, as will be evident to the
intelligent from the notes on that Dialogue. In addition therefore to
what I have staid on this subject, I shall further observe at present
that this doctrine, which is founded in the sublimest and most scientific
conceptions of the human mind, may be clearly shown to be a legitimate
dogma of Plato from what is asserted by him in the sixth book of his
Republic. For he there affirms, in the most clear and unequivocal terms,
that the good, or the ineffable principle of things is superessential,
and shows by the analogy of the sun to the good, that what light and
sight are in the visible, that truth and intelligence are in the
intelligible world. As light therefore, immediately proceeds from the
sun, and wholly subsists according to a solar idiom or property, so truth
or the immediate progeny of the good, must subsist according to a
superessential idiom. And as the good, according to Plato, is the same
with the one, as is evident from the Parmenides, the immediate progeny of
the one will be the same as that of the good. But, the immediate
offspring of the one cannot be any thing else than unities. And, hence we
necessarily infer that according to Plato, the immediate offspring of the
ineffable principle of things are superessential unities. They differ
however from their immense principle in this, that he is superessential
and ineffable, without any addition; but this divine multitude is
participated by the several orders of being, which are suspended from and
produced by it. Hence, in consequence of being connected with multitude
through this participation, they are necessarily subordinate to the one.

No less admirably, therefore, than Platonically does Simplicius, in his
Commentary of Epictetus, observe on this subject as follows: "The
fountain and principle of all things is the good: for that which all
things desire, and to which all things are extended, is the principle and
the end of all things. The good also produces from itself all things,
first, middle, and last. But it produces such as are first and proximate
to itself, similar to itself; one goodness, many goodnesses, one
simplicity and unity which transcends all others, many, unities, and one
principle many principles. For the one, the principle, the good, and
deity, are the same: for deity is the first and the cause of all things.
But it is necessary that the first should also be most simple; since
whatever is a composite and has multitude is posterior to the one. And
multitude and things, which are not good desire the good as being above
them: and in short, that which is not itself the principle is from the
principle.

But it is also necessary that the principle of all things should possess
the highest, and all, power. For the amplitude of power consists in
producing all things from itself, and in giving subsistence to similars,
prior to things which are dissimilar. Hence the one principle produces
many principles, many simplicities, and many goodnesses, proximately from
itself. For since all things differ from each other, and are multiplied
with their proper differences, each of these multitudes is suspended from
its one proper principle. Thus, for instance, all beautiful things,
whatever and wherever they may be, whether in souls or in bodies, are
suspended from one fountain of beauty. Thus too, whatever possesses
symmetry, and whatever is true, and all principles, are in a certain
respect, connate with the first principle, so far as they are principles
and fountains and goodnesses, with an appropriate subjection and analogy.
For what the one principle is to all beings, that each of the other
principles is to the multitude comprehended under the idiom of its
principle. For it is impossible, since each multitude is characterized
by a certain difference, that it should not be extended to its proper
principle, which illuminates one and the same form to all the individuals
of that multitude. For the one is the leader of every multitude; and
every peculiarity or idiom in the many is derived to the many from the
one. All partial principles therefore are established in that principle
which ranks as a whole, and are comprehended in it, not with interval and
multitude, but as parts in the whole, as multitude in the one, and number
in the monad. For this first principle is all things prior to all: and
many principles are multiplied about the one principle, and in the one
goodness, many goodnesses are established. This too, is not a certain
principle like each of the rest: for of these, one is the principle of
beauty, another of symmetry, another of truth, and another of something
else, but it is simply principle. Nor is it simply the principles of
beings, but it is the principle of principles. For it is necessary that
the idiom of principle, after the same manner as other things, should not
begin from multitude, but should be collected into one monad as a summit,
and which is the principle of principles.

Such things therefore as are first produced by the first good, in
consequence of being connascent with it, do not recede from essential
goodness, since they are immovable and unchanged, and are eternally
established in the same blessedness. They are likewise not indigent of
the good, because they are goodnesses themselves. All other natures
however, being produced by the one good, and many goodnesses, since they
fall off from essential goodness, and are not immovably established in
the hyparxis of divine goodness, on this account they possess the good
according to participation."

From this sublime theory the meaning of that ancient Egyptian dogma, that
God is all things, is at once apparent. For the first principle,[6] as
Simplicius in the above passage justly observes, is all things prior
to all; i.e. he comprehends all things causally, this being the most
transcendent mode of comprehension. As all things therefore, considered
as subsisting causally in deity, are transcendently more excellent than
they are when considered as effects preceding from him, hence that mighty
and all-comprehending whole, the first principle, is said to be all
things prior to all; priority here denoting exempt transcendency. As the
monad and the centre of a circle are images from their simplicity of this
greatest of principles, so likewise do they perspicuously shadow forth
to us its causal comprehension of all things. For all number may be
considered as subsisting occultly in the monad, and the circle in the
centre; this occult being the same in each with causal subsistence.

-----------------
[6] By the first principle here, the one is to be understood for that
arcane nature which is beyond the one, since all language is subverted
about it, can only, as we have already observed, be conceived and
venerated in the most profound silence.
-----------------

That this conception of causal subsistence is not an hypothesis devised
by the latter Platonists, but a genuine dogma of Plato, is evident from
what he says in the Philebus: for in that Dialogue he expressly asserts
that in Jupiter a royal intellect, and a royal soul subsist according to
cause. Pherecydes Syrus, too, in his Hymn to Jupiter, as cited by Kercher
(in Oedip. Egyptiac.), has the following lines:
[Greek:
  O theos esti kuklos, tetragonos ede trigonos,
  Keinos de gramme, kentron, kai panta pro panton.]

i.e. Jove is a circle, triangle and square, centre and line, and all things
before all. From which testimonies the antiquity of this sublime doctrine
is sufficiently apparent.

And here it is necessary to observe that nearly all philosophers: prior
to Jamblichus (as we are informed by Damascius) asserted indeed, that
there is one superessential God, but that the other gods had an essential
subsistence, and were deified by illuminations from the one. They
likewise said that there is a multitude of super-essential unities, who
are not self-perfect subsistences, but illuminated unions with deity,
imparted to essences by the highest Gods. That this hypothesis, however,
is not conformable to the doctrine of Plato is evident from his
Parmenides, in which he shows that the one does not subsist in itself.
(See vol. iii, p. 133). For as we have observed from Proclus, in the
notes on that Dialogue, every thing which is the cause of itself and is
self-subsistent, is said to be in itself. Hence as producing power
always comprehends, according to cause that which it produces, it is
necessary that whatever produces itself should comprehend itself so far
as it is a cause, and should be comprehended by itself so far as it is
caused; and that it should be at once both cause and the thing caused,
that which comprehends, and that which is comprehended. If therefore a
subsistence in another signifies, according to Plato, the being produced
by another more excellent cause (as we have shown in the note to p. 133,
vol. iii), a subsistence in itself must signify that which is self-
begotten, and produced by itself. If the one therefore is not self-sub-
sistent as even transcending this mode of subsistence, and if it be
necessary that there should be something self-subsistent, it follows
that this must be the characteristic property of that which immediately
proceeds from the ineffable. But that there must be something self-
subsistent is evident, since unless this is admitted there will not
be a true sufficiency in any thing.

Besides, as Damascius well observes, if that which is subordinate by
nature is self-perfect, such as the human soul, much more will this be the
case with a divine soul. But if with soul, this also will be true of
intellect. And if it be true of intellect, it will also be true of life: if
of life, of being likewise; and if of being, of the unities above being.
For the self-perfect, the self-sufficient, and that which is established in
itself, will much more subsist in superior than in subordinate natures. If
therefore, these are in the latter, they will also be in the former. I mean
the subsistence of a thing by itself, and essentialized in itself; and such
are essence and life, intellect, soul, and body. For body, though it does
not subsist from, yet subsists by itself; and through this belongs to the
genus of substance, and is contra-distinguished from accident, which cannot
exist independent of a subject.

Self-subsistent superessential natures therefore are the immediate
progeny of the one, if it be lawful thus to denominate things, which
ought rather to be called ineffable unfoldings into light from the
ineffable; for progeny implies a producing cause, and the one must be
conceived as something even more excellent than this. From this divine
self-perfect and self-producing multitude, a series of self-perfect
natures, viz. of beings, lives, intellects, and souls proceeds, according
to Plato, in the last link of which luminous series he also classes the
human soul; proximately suspended from the daemoniacal order: for this
order, as he clearly asserts in the Banquet, "stands in the middle rank
between the divine and human, fills up the vacant space, and links
together all intelligent nature." And here to the reader, who has not
penetrated the depths of Plato's philosophy, it will doubtless appear
paradoxical in the extreme, that any being should be said to produce
itself, and yet at the same time proceed from a superior cause. The
solution of this difficulty is as follows:--Essential production, or that
energy through which any nature produces something else by its very
being, is the most perfect mode of production, because vestiges of it are
seen in the last of things; thus fire imparts heat, by its very essence,
and snow coldness. And in short, this is a producing of that kind, in
which the effect is that secondarily which the cause is primarily. As
this mode of production therefore, from its being the most perfect of all
others, originates from the highest natures, it will consequently first
belong to those self-subsistent powers, who immediately proceed from the
ineffable, and will from them be derived to all the following orders of
beings. But this energy, as being characterized by the essential, will
necessarily be different in different producing causes. Hence, from that
which subsists, at the summit of self subsistent natures, a series of
self subsisting beings will indeed proceed, but then this series will be
secondarily that which its cause is primarily, and the energy by which it
produces itself will be secondary to that by which it is produced by its
cause. Thus, for instance, the rational soul both produces itself (in
consequence of being a self-motive nature), and is produced by intellect;
but it is produced by intellect immutably, and by itself transitively;
for all its energies subsist in time, and are accompanied with motion. So
far therefore as soul contains intellect by participation, so far it is
produced by intellect, but so far as it is self-motive it is produced by
itself. In short, with respect to every thing self-subsistent, the summit
of its nature is produced by a superior cause, but the evolution of that
summit is its own spontaneous energy; and, through this it becomes
self-subsistent, and self-perfect.

That the rational soul, indeed, so far as it is rational, produces
itself, may be clearly demonstrated as follows:--That which is able to
impart any thing superior and more excellent in any genus of things, can
easily impart that which is subordinate and less excellent in the same
genus; but well being confessedly ranks higher and is more excellent than
mere being. The rational soul imparts well being to itself, when it
cultivates and perfects itself, and recalls and withdraws itself from the
contagion of the body. It will therefore also impart being to itself. And
this with great propriety; for all divine natures, and such things as
possess the ability of imparting any thing primarily to others,
necessarily begin this energy from themselves. Of this mighty truth the
sun himself is an illustrious example; for he illuminates all things with
his light, and is himself light, and the fountain and origin of all
splendour. Hence, since the souls imparts life and motion to other
things, on which account Aristotle calls an animal antokincton, self-
moved, it will much more, and by a much greater priority, impart life and
motion to itself.

From this magnificent, sublime, and most scientific doctrine of Plato,
respecting the arcane principle of things and his immediate progeny, it
follows that this ineffable cause is not the immediate maker of the
universe, and this, as I have observed in the Introduction to the Timaeus,
not through any defect, but on the contrary through transcendency of power.
All things indeed are ineffably unfolded from him at once, into light; but
divine media are necessary to the fabrication of the world. For if the
universe was immediately produced from the ineffable, it would, agreeably
to what we have above observed, be ineffable also in a secondary degree.
But as this is by no means the case, it principally derives its immediate
subsistence from a deity of a fabricative characteristic, whom Plato calls
Jupiter, conformably to the theology of Orpheus. The intelligent reader
will readily admit that this dogmas is so far from being derogatory to the
dignity of the Supreme, that on the contrary it exalts that dignity, and,
preserves in a becoming manner the exempt transcendency of the ineffable.
If therefore we presume to celebrate him, for as we have already observed,
it is more becoming to establish in silence those parturitions of the soul
which dare anxiously to explore him, we should celebrate him as the
principle of principles, and the fountain of deity, or in the reverential
language of the Egyptians, as a darkness thrice unknown.[7] Highly laudable
indeed, and worthy the imitation of all posterity, is the veneration which
the great ancients paid to this immense principle. This I have already
noticed in the Introduction to the Parmenides, and I shall only observe at
present in addition, that in consequence of this profound and most pious
reverence of the first God, they did not even venture to give a name to
the summit of that highest order of divinities which is denominated
intelligible. Hence, says Proclus, in his Mss. Scholia on the Cratylus,
"Not every genus of the gods has an appellation; for with respect to the
first Deity, who is beyond all things, Parmenides teaches us that he is
ineffable; and the first genera of the intelligible gods, who are united to
the one, and are called occult, have much of the unknown and ineffable. For
that which is perfectly effable cannot be conjoined with the perfectly
ineffable; but it is necessary that the progression of intelligibles should
terminate in this order, in which the first effable subsists, and that
which is called by proper names. For there the first intelligible forms,
and the intellectual nature of intelligibles, are unfolded into light.
But, the natures prior to this being silent and occult, are only known
by intelligence. Hence the whole of the telestic science energizing
theurgically ascends as far as to this order. Orpheus also says that this
is first called by a name by the other gods; for the light proceeding from
it is known to and denominated by the intellectual gods."

-----------------
[7] Psalm xviii:11; xcvii:2.
-----------------

With no less magnificence therefore than piety, does Proclus thus speak
concerning the ineffable principle of things. "Let us now if ever remove
from ourselves multiform knowledge, exterminate all the variety of life,
and in perfect quiet approach near to the cause of all things. For this
purpose, let not only opinion and phantasy be at rest, nor the passions
alone which impede our anagogic impulse to the first be at peace; but let
the air, and the universe itself, be still. And let all things extend us
with a tranquil power to communion with the ineffable. Let us also
standing there, having transcended the intelligible (if we contain any
thing of this kind), and with nearly closed eyes adoring as it were the
rising sun, since it is not lawful for any being whatever intently to
behold him,--let us survey the sun whence the light of the intelligible
gods proceeds, emerging, as the poets say, from the bosom of the ocean;
and again from this divine tranquillity descending into intellect, and
from intellect employing the reasonings of the soul, let us relate to
ourselves what the natures are from which in this progression we shall
consider the first God as exempt. And let us as it were celebrate him,
not as establishing the earth and the heavens, nor as giving subsistence
to souls, and the generations of all animals; for he produced these
indeed, but among the last of things. But prior to these, let us
celebrate him as unfolding into light the whole intelligible and
intellectual genus of gods, together with all the supermundane and
mundane divinities as, the God of all gods, the Unity of all unities,
and beyond the first adyta--as more ineffable than all silence, and more
unknown than all essence,--as holy among the holies, and concealed in
the intelligible gods." Such is the piety, such the sublimity, and
magnificence of conception, with which the Platonic philosophers speak of
that which is in reality in every respect ineffable, when they presume to
speak about it, extending the ineffable parturitions of the soul to the
ineffable cosensation of the incomprehensible one.

From this sublime veneration of this most awful nature, which, as is
noticed in the extracts from Damascius, induced the most ancient
theologists, philosophers, and poets, to be entirely silent concerning
it, arose the great reverence which the ancients paid to the divinities
even of a mundane characteristic, or from whom bodies are suspended,
considering them also as partaking of the nature of the ineffable, and as
so many links of the truly golden chain of deity. Hence we find in the
Odyssey, when Ulysses and Telemachus are removing the arms from the walls
of the palace of Ithaca, and Minerva going before them with her golden
lamp fills all the place with a divine light,
[Greek:
  . . . . . paroithe de pallas Athene
Chryseon lychnon echrusa phars perikalles epoiei.]

Before thee Pallas Athene bore a golden cresset and cast a most lovely
light. Telemachus having observed that certainly some one of the celestial
gods was present,
[Greek:
  Emala tis deos endon, of ouranon euryn echousi.]

Verily some God is within, of those that hold the wide heaven. Ulysses
says in reply, "Be silent, restrain your intellect (i.e. even cease to
energize intellectually), and speak not."
[Greek:
  Siga, kai kata son noon ischana, med' ereeine.]

Hold thy peace and keep all this in thine heart and ask not hereof.
--Book 19, Odyssey.

Lastly, from all that has been said, it must, I think, be immediately
obvious to every one whose mental eye is not entirely blinded, that there
can be no such thing as a trinity in the theology of Plato, in any respect
analogous to the Christian Trinity. For the highest God, according to
Plato, as we have largely shown from irresistible evidence, is so far from
being a part of a consubsistent triad, that he is not to be connumerated
with any thing; but is so perfectly exempt from all multitude, that he is
even beyond being; and he so ineffably transcends all relation and
habitude, that language is in reality subverted about him, and knowledge
refunded into ignorance. What that trinity however is in the theology of
Plato, which doubtless gave birth to the Christian, will be evident to the
intelligent from the notes on the Parmenides, and the extracts, from
Damascius. And thus much for the doctrine of Plato concerning the principle
of things, and his immediate offspring, the great importance of which will,
I doubt not, be a sufficient apology for the length of this discussion.

In the next place, following Proclus and Olympiodorus as our guides, let us
consider the mode according to which Plato teaches us mystic conceptions of
divine natures: for he appears not to have pursued every where the same
mode of doctrine about these; but sometimes according to a divinely
inspired energy, and at other times dialectically, he evolves the truth
concerning them. And sometimes he symbolically announces their ineffable
idioms, but at other times he recurs to them from images, and discovers in
them the primary causes of wholes. For in the Phaedrus being evidently
inspired, and having exchanged human intelligence for a better possession,
divine mania, he unfolds many arcane dogmas concerning the intellectual,
liberated, and mundane gods. But in the Sophista dialectically contending
about being, and the subsistence of the one above beings, and doubting
against philosophers more ancient than himself, he shows how all beings are
suspended from their cause and the first being, but that being itself
participates of that unity which is exempt from all things, that it is a
passive,[8] one, but not the one itself, being subject to and united to the
one, but not being that which is primarily one. In a similar manner too, in
the Parmenides, he unfolds dialectically the progressions of being from the
one, through the first hypothesis of that dialogue, and this, as he there
asserts, according to the most perfect division of this method. And again
in the Gorgias, he relates the fable concerning the three fabricators, and
their demiurgic allotment. But in the Banquet he speaks concerning the
union of love; and in the Protagoras, about the distribution of mortal
animals from the gods; in a symbolical manner concealing the truth
concerning divine natures, and as far as to mere indication unfolding his
mind to the most genuine of his readers.

-----------------
[8] It is necessary to observe, that, according to Plato, whatever
participates of any thing is said to be passive to that which it
participates, and the participations themselves are called by him passions.
-----------------

Again, if it be necessary to mention the doctrine delivered through the
mathematical disciplines, and the discussion of divine concerns from
ethical or physical discourses, of which many may be contemplated in the
Timaeus, many in the dialogue called Politicus, and many may be seen
scattered in other dialogues; here likewise, to those who are desirous of
knowing divine concerns through images, the method will be apparent. Thus,
for instance, the Politicus shadows forth the fabrication in the heavens.
But the figures of the five elements, delivered in geometrical proportions
in the Timaeus, represent in images the idioms of the gods who preside over
the parts of the universe. And the divisions of the essence of the soul in
that dialogue shadow forth the total orders of the gods. To this we may
also add that Plato composes politics, assimilating them to divine natures,
and adorning them from the whole world and the powers which it contains.
All these, therefore, through the similitude of mortal to divine concerns,
exhibit to us in images the progressions, orders, and fabrications of the
latter. And such are the modes of theologic doctrine employed by Plato.

"But those," says Proclus, "who treat of divine concerns in an indicative
manner, either speak symbolically and fabulously, or through images. And of
those who openly announce their conceptions, some frame their discourses
according to science, but others according to inspiration from the gods.
And he who desires to signify divine concerns through symbols is Orphic,
and, in short, accords with those who write fables respecting the gods.
But he who does this through images is Pythagoric. For the mathematical
disciplines were invented by the Pythagorean in order to a reminiscence of
divine concerns, to which through these as images, they endeavour to
ascend. For they refer both numbers and figures to the gods, according to
the testimony of their historians. But the enthusiastic character, or he
who is divinely inspired, unfolding the truth itself concerning the gods
essentially, perspicuously ranks among the highest initiators. For these do
not think proper to unfold the divine orders, or their idioms, to their
familiars through veils, but announce their powers and their numbers in
consequence of being moved by the gods themselves. But the tradition of
divine concerns according to science is the illustrious, prerogative of the
Platonic philosophy. For Plato alone, as it appears to me of all those who
are known to us, has attempted methodically to divide and reduce into order
the regular progression of the divine genera, their mutual difference, the
common idioms of the total orders, and the distributed idioms in each."

Again, since Plato employs fables, let us in the first place consider
whence the ancients were induced to devise fables, and in the second place,
what the difference is between the fables of philosophers and those of
poets. In answer to the first question then, it is necessary to know that
the ancients employed fables looking to two things, viz. nature, and our
soul. They employed them by looking to nature, and the fabrication of
things, as follows. Things unapparent are believed from things apparent,
and incorporeal natures from bodies. For seeing the orderly arrangement of
bodies, we understand that a certain incorporeal power presides over them;
as with respect to the celestial bodies, they have a certain presiding
motive power. As we therefore see that our body is moved, but is no longer
so after death, we conceive that it was a certain incorporeal power which
moved it. Hence, perceiving that we believe things incorporeal and
unapparent from things apparent and corporeal, fables came to be adopted,
that we might come from things apparent to certain unapparent natures; as,
for instance, that on hearing the adulteries, bonds, and lacerations of the
gods, castrations of heaven, and the like, we may not rest satisfied with
the apparent meaning of such like particulars, but may proceed to the
unapparent, and investigate the true signification. After this manner,
therefore, looking to the nature of things, were fables employed.

But from looking to our souls, they originated as follows: While we are
children we live according to the phantasy, but the phantastic part is
conversant with figures, and types, and things of this kind. That the
phantastic part in us therefore may be preserved, we employ fables in
consequence of this part rejoicing in fables. It may also be said that
a fable is nothing else than a false discourse shadowing forth the truth:
for a fable is the image of truth. But the soul is the image of the
natures prior to herself; and hence the soul very properly rejoices in
fables, as an image in an image. As we are therefore from our childhood
nourished in fables, it is necessary that they should be introduced. And
thus much for the first problem, concerning the origin of fables.

In the next place let us consider what the difference is between the
fables of philosophers and poets. Each therefore has something in which
it abounds more than, and something in which it is deficient from the
other. Thus, for instance, the poetic fable abounds in this, that we must
not rest satisfied with the apparent meaning, but pass on to the occult
truth. For who, endued with intellect, would believe that Jupiter was
desirous of having connection with Juno, and on the ground, without
waiting to go into the bed-chamber. So that the poetic fable abounds, in
consequence of asserting such things as do not suffer us to stop at the
apparent, but lead us to explore the occult truth. But it is defective in
this, that it deceives those of a juvenile age. Plato therefore neglects
fable of this kind, and banishes Homer from his Republic; because youth
on hearing such fables, will not be able to distinguish what is
allegorical from what is not.

Philosophical fables, on the contrary, do not injure those that go no
further than the apparent meaning. Thus, for instance, they assert that
there are punishments and rivers under the earth: and if we adhere to the
literal meaning of these we shall not be injured. But they are deficient
in this, that as their apparent signification does not injure, we often
content ourselves with this, and do not explore the latent truth. We may
also say that philosophic fables look to the enemies of the soul. For if
we were entirely intellect alone, and had no connection with phantasy, we
should not require fables, in consequence of always associating with
intellectual natures. If again, we were entirely irrational, and lived
according to the phantasy, and had no other energy than this, it would be
requisite that the whole of our life should be fabulous. Since, however,
we possess intellect, opinion, and phantasy, demonstrations are given
with a view to intellect; and hence Plato says that if you are willing to
energize according to intellect, you will have demonstrations bound with
adamantine chains; if according to opinion, you will have the testimony
of renowned persons; and if according to the phantasy, you have fables by
which it is excited; so that from all these you will derive advantage.

Plato therefore rejects the more tragical mode of mythologizing of the
ancient poets, who thought proper to establish an arcane theology
respecting the gods, and on this account devised wanderings, castrations,
battles and lacerations of the gods, and many other such symbols of the
truth about divine natures which this theology conceals;--this mode he
rejects, and asserts that it is in every respect most foreign from
erudition. But he considers those mythological discourses about the gods
as more persuasive and more adapted to truth, which assert that a divine
nature is the cause of all good, but of no evil, and that it is void of
all mutation, comprehending in itself the fountain of truth, but never
becoming the cause of any deception to others. For such types of theology
Socrates delivers in the Republic.

All the fables therefore of Plato guarding the truth in concealment,
have not even their externally apparent apparatus discordant with our
undisciplined and unperverted anticipations of divinity. But they bring
with them an image of the mundane composition in which both the apparent
beauty is worthy of divinity, and a beauty more divine than this is
established in the unapparent lives and powers of its causes.

In the next place, that the reader may see whence and from what dialogues
principally the theological dogmas of Plato may be collected, I shall
present him with the following translation of what Proclus has admirably
written on this subject.

"The truth (says he) concerning the gods pervades, as I may say, through
all the Platonic dialogues, and in all of them conceptions of the first
philosophy, venerable, clear, and supernatural, are disseminated, in some
more obscurely, but in others more conspicuously;--conceptions which
excite those that are in any respect able to partake of them, to the
immaterial and separate essence of the gods. And as in each part of the
universe and in nature itself, the demiurgus of all which the world
contains established resemblances of the unknown essence of the gods,
that all things might be converted to divinity through their alliance
with it, in like manner I am of opinion, that the divine intellect of
Plato weaves conceptions about the gods with all its progeny, and leaves
nothing deprived of the mention of divinity, that from the whole of its
offspring a reminiscence of total natures may be obtained, and imparted
to the genuine lovers of divine concerns.

"But if it be requisite to lay before the reader those dialogues out of
many which principally unfold to us the mystic discipline about the gods,
I shall not err in ranking among this number the Phaedo and Phaedrus, the
Banquet and the Philebus, and together with these the Sophista and
Politicus, the Cratylus and the Timaeus. For all these are full through
the whole of themselves, as I may say, of the divine science of Plato.
But I should place in the second rank after these, the fable in the
Gorgias, and that in the Protagoras, likewise the assertions about the
providence of the gods in the Laws, and such things as are delivered
about the Fates, or the mother of the Fates, or the circulations of the
universe, in the tenth book of the Republic. Again you may, if you
please, place in the third rank those Epistles through which we may be
able to arrive at the science about divine natures. For in these, mention
is made of the three kings; and many other divine dogmas worthy the
Platonic theory are delivered. It is necessary therefore, regarding
these, to explore in them each order of the gods.

Thus from the Philebus, we may receive the science respecting the one
good, and the two first principles of things (bound and infinity) together
with the triad subsisting from these. For you will find all these
distinctly delivered to us by Plato in that dialogue. But from the Timaeus
you may obtain the theory about intelligibles, a divine narration about the
demiurgic monad, and the most full truth about the mundane gods. From the
Phaedrus you may learn all the intelligible and intellectual genera, and
the liberated orders of the gods, which are proximately established above
the celestial circulations. From the Politicus you may obtain the theory of
the fabrication in the heavens, of the periods of the universe, and of the
intellectual causes of those periods. But from the Sophista you may learn
the whole sublunary generation, and the idiom of the gods who are allotted
the sublunary region, and preside over its generations and corruptions. And
with respect to each of the gods, we may obtain many sacred conceptions
from the Banquet, many from the Cratylus, and many from the Phaedo. For in
each of these dialogues more or less mention is made of divine names, from
which it is easy for those who are exorcised in divine concerns to discover
by a reasoning process the idioms of each.

"It is necessary, however, to evince that each of the dogmas accords with
Platonic principles and the mystic traditions of theologists. For all the
Grecian theology is the progeny of the mystic doctrine of Orpheus;
Pythagoras first of all learning from Aglaophemus the origins of the
gods, but Plato in the second place receiving an all-perfect science of
the divinities from the Pythagoric and Orphic writings. For in the
Philebus, referring the theory about the two forms of principles (bound
and infinity) to the Pythagoreans, he calls them men dwelling with the
gods, and truly blessed. Philolaus, therefore, the Pythagorean, has left
for us in writing admirable conceptions about these principles,
celebrating their common progression into beings, and their separate
fabrication. Again, in the Timaeus, endeavouring to teach us about the
sublunary gods and their order, Plato flies to theologists, calls them
the sons of the gods, and makes them the fathers of the truth about these
divinities. And lastly, he delivers the orders of the sublunary gods
proceeding from wholes, according to the progression delivered by
theologists of the intellectual kings. Further still, in the Cratylus he
follows the traditions of theologists respecting the order of the divine
processions. But in the Gorgias he adopts the Homeric dogma, respecting
the triadic hypostases of the demiurgi. And, in short, he every where
discourses concerning the gods agreeably to the principles of theologists;
rejecting indeed the tragical part of mythological fiction, but establishing
first hypotheses in common with the authors of fables.

"Perhaps, however, some one may here object to us, that we do not in a
proper manner exhibit the every where dispersed theology of Plato, and that
we endeavour to heap together different particulars from different
dialogues, as if we were studious of collecting many things into one
mixture, instead of deriving them all from one and the same fountain. For
if this were our intention, we might indeed refer different dogmas to
different treatises of Plato, but we shall by no means have a precedaneous
doctrine concerning the gods, nor will there be any dialogue which presents
us with an all-perfect and entire procession of the divine genera, and
their coordination with each other. But we shall be similar to those who
endeavor to obtain a whole from parts, through the want of a whole prior[9]
to parts, and to weave together the perfect, from things imperfect, when,
on the contrary, the imperfect ought to have the first cause of its
generation in the perfect. For the Timaeus, for instance, will teach us the
theory of the intelligible genera, and the Phaedrus appears to present us
with a regular account of the first intellectual orders. But where will be
the coordination of intellectuals to intelligibles? And what will be the
generation of second from first natures? In short, after what manner the
progression of the divine orders takes place from the one principle of all
things, and how in the generations of the gods, the orders between the one,
and all-perfect number, are filled up, we shall be unable to evince.

-----------------
[9] A whole prior to parts is that which causally contains parts in
itself. Such parts too, when they proceed from their occult causal
subsistence, and have a distinct being of their own, are nevertheless
comprehended, though in a different manner, in their producing whole.
-----------------

"Further still, it may be said, where will be the venerableness of your
boasted science about divine natures? For it is absurd to call these
dogmas, which are collected from many places, Platonic, and which, as you
acknowledge, are reduced from foreign names to the philosophy of Plato;
nor are you able to evince the whole entire truth about divine natures.
Perhaps, indeed, they will say that certain persons, junior to Plato,
have delivered in their writings, and left to their disciples, one
perfect form of philosophy. You, therefore, are able to produce one
entire theory about nature from the Timaeus; but from the Republic, or
Laws, the most beautiful dogmas about morals, and which tend to one form
of philosophy. Alone, therefore, neglecting the treatise of Plato, which
contains all the good of the first philosophy, and which may be called
the summit of the whole theory, you will be deprived of the most perfect
knowledge of beings, unless you are so much infatuated as to boast on
account of fabulous fictions, though an analysis of things of this kind
abounds with much of the probable, but not of the demonstrative. Besides,
things of this kind are only delivered adventitiously in the Platonic
dialogues; as the fable in the Protagoras, which is inserted for the sake
of the political science, and the demonstrations respecting it. In like
manner the fable in the Republic is inserted for the sake of justice; and
in the Gorgias for the sake of temperance. For Plato combines fabulous
narrations with investigations of ethical dogmas, not for the sake of the
fables, but for the sake of the leading design, that we may not only
exercise the intellectual part of the soul, through contending reasons,
but that the divine part of the soul may more perfectly receive the
knowledge of beings, through its sympathy with more mystic concerns.
For from other discourses we resemble those who are compelled to the
reception of truth; but from fables we are affected in an ineffable
manner, and call forth our unperverted conceptions, venerating the mystic
information which they contain.

"Hence, as it appears to me, Timaeus with great propriety thinks it fit
that we should produce the divine genera, following the inventors of
fables as sons of the gods, and subscribe to their always generating
secondary natures from such as are first, though they should speak
without demonstration. For this kind of discourse is not demonstrative,
but entheastic, or the progeny of divine inspiration; and was invented by
the ancients, not through necessity, but for the sake of persuasion, not
regarding naked discipline, but sympathy with things themselves. But if
you are willing to speculate not only the causes of fables, but of other
theological dogmas, you will find that some of them are scattered in the
Platonic dialogues for the sake of ethical, and others for the sake of
physical considerations. For in the Philebus, Plato discourses concerning
bound and infinity, for the sake of pleasure, and a life according to
intellect. For I think the latter are species of the former. In the
Timaeus the discourse about the intelligible gods is assumed for the sake
of the proposed physiology. On which account, it is every where necessary
that images should be known from paradigms, but that the paradigms of
material things should be immaterial, of sensibles, intelligible, and of
physical forms, separate from nature. But in the Phaedrus, Plato
celebrates the supercelestial place, the subcelestial profundity, and
every genus under this for the sake of amatory mania; the manner in which
the reminiscence of souls takes place; and the passage to these from
hence. Every where, however, the leading end, as I may say, is either
physical or political, while the conceptions about divine natures are
introduced either for the sake of invention or perfection. How, therefore,
can such a theory as yours be any longer venerable and supernatural, and
worthy to be studied beyond every thing, when it is neither able to
evince the whole in itself, nor the perfect, nor that which is
precedaneous in the writings of Plato, but is destitute of all these, is
violent and not spontaneous, and does not possess a genuine, but an
adventitious order, as in a drama? And such are the particulars which may
be urged against our design.

"To this objection I shall make a just and perspicuous reply. I say then
that Plato every where discourses about the gods agreeably to ancient
opinions and the nature of things. And sometimes indeed, for the sake of
the cause of the things proposed, he reduces them to the principles of
the dogmas, and thence, as from an exalted place of survey, contemplates
the nature of the thing proposed. But some times he establishes the
theological science as the leading end. For in the Phaedrus, his subject
respects intelligible beauty, and the participation of beauty pervading
thence through all things; and in the Banquet it respects the amatory
order.

"But if it be necessary to consider, in one Platonic dialogue, the
all-perfect, whole and connected, extending as far as to the complete
number of theology, I shall perhaps assert a paradox, and which will
alone be apparent to our familiars. We ought however to dare, since we
have begun the assertion, and affirm against our opponents, that the
Parmenides, and the mystic conceptions of this dialogue, will accomplish
all you desire. For in this dialogue, all the divine genera proceed in
order from the first cause, and evince their mutual suspension from each
other. And those indeed which are highest, connate with the one, and of
a primary nature, are allotted a form of subsistence, characterized by
unity, occult and simple; but such as are last are multiplied, are
distributed into many parts, and excel in number, but are inferior in
power to such as are of a higher order; and such as are middle, according
to a convenient proportion, are more composite than their causes, but
more simple than their proper progeny. And, in short, all the axioms of
the theological science appear in perfection in this dialogue; and all
the divine orders are exhibited subsisting in connection. So that this
is nothing else than the celebrated generation of the gods, and the
procession of every kind of being from the ineffable and unknown cause of
wholes.[10] The Parmenides therefore, enkindles in the lovers of Plato
the whole and perfect light of the theological science. But after this,
the aforementioned dialogues distribute parts of the mystic discipline
about the gods, and all of them, as I may say, participate of divine
wisdom, and excite our spontaneous conceptions respecting a divine nature.

------------------
[10] The principle of all things is celebrated by Platonic philosophy as
the cause of wholes, because through transcendency of power he first
produces those powers in the universe which rank as wholes, and afterward
those which rank as parts through these. Agreeably to this Jupiter, the
artificer of the universe, is almost always called [Greek: demiourgos ton
olon], the demiurgus of wholes. See the Timaeus, and the Introduction to it.
------------------

And it is necessary to refer all the parts of this mystic discipline to
these dialogues, and these again to the one and all perfect theory of the
Parmenides. For thus, as it appears to me, we shall suspend the more
imperfect from the perfect, and parts from wholes, and shall exhibit
reasons assimilated to things of which, according to the Platonic Timaeus,
they are interpreters. Such then is our answer to the objection which may
be urged against us; and thus we refer the Platonic theory to the
Parmenides; just as the Timaeus is acknowledged by all who have the least
degree of intelligence to contain the whole science about nature."

All that is here asserted by Proclus will be immediately admitted by the
reader who understands the outlines which we have here given of the
theology of Plato, and who is besides this a complete master of the
mystic meaning of the Parmenides; which I trust he will find sufficiently
unfolded, through the assistance of Proclus, in the introduction and
notes to that dialogue.

The next important Platonic dogma in order, is that doctrine concerning
ideas, about which the reader will find so much said in the notes on the
Parmenides, that but little remains to be added here. That little however
is as follows: The divine Pythagoras, and all those who have legitimately
received his doctrines, among whom Plato holds the most distinguished
rank, asserted that there are many orders of beings, viz. intelligible,
intellectual, dianoetic, physical, or in short, vital and corporeal
essences. For the progression of things, the subjection which naturally
subsists together with such progression, and the power of diversity in
coordinate genera give subsistence to all the multitude of corporeal and
incorporeal natures. They said, therefore, that there are three orders in
the whole extent of beings; viz. the intelligible, the dianoetic, and the
sensible; and that in each of these ideas subsist, characterized by the
respective essential properties of the natures by which they are
contained. And with respect to intelligible ideas, these they placed
among divine natures, together with the producing, paradigmatic, and
final causes of things in a consequent order. For if these three causes
sometimes concur, and are united among themselves, (which Aristotle says
is the case), without doubt this will not happen in the lowest works of
nature, but in the first and most excellent causes of all things, which
on account of their exuberant fecundity have a power generative of all
things, and from their converting and rendering similar to themselves the
natures which they have generated, are the paradigms, or exemplars of all
things. But as these divine causes act for their own sake, and on account
of their own goodness, do they not exhibit the final cause? Since
therefore intelligible forms are of this kind, and are the leaders of so
much good to wholes, they give completion to the divine orders, though
they largely subsist about the intelligible order contained in the
artificer of the universe. But dianoetic forms or ideas imitate the
intellectual, which have a prior subsistence, render the order of soul
similar to the intellectual order, and comprehend all things in a
secondary degree.

These forms beheld in divine natures possess a fabricative power, but
with us they are only gnostic, and no longer demiurgic, through the
defluxion of our wings, or degradation of our intellectual powers. For,
as Plato says in the Phaedrus, when the winged powers of the soul are
perfect and plumed for flight, she dwells on high, and in conjunction
with divine natures governs the world. In the Timaeus, he manifestly
asserts that the demiurgus implanted these dianoetic forms in souls, in
geometric, arithmetic, and harmonic proportions: but in his Republic (in
the section of a line in the 6th book) he calls them images of
intelligibles; and on this account does not for the most part disdain to
denominate them intellectual, as being the exemplars of sensible natures.
In the Phaedo he says that these are the causes to us of reminiscence;
because disciplines are nothing else than reminiscences of middle
dianoetic forms, from which the productive powers of nature being derived
and inspired, give birth to all the mundane phenomena.

Plato however did not consider things definable, or in modern language
abstract ideas, as the only universals, but prior to these he established
those principles productive of science which essentially reside in the
soul, as is evident from his Phaedrus and Phaedo. In the 10th book of the
Republic too, he venerates those separate forms which subsist in a divine
intellect. In the Phaedrus, he asserts that souls elevated to the
supercelestial place, behold Justice herself, temperance herself, and
science herself; and lastly in the Phaedo he evinces the immortality of
the soul from the hypothesis of separate forms.

Syrianus[11], in his commentary on the 13th book of Aristotle's
Metaphysics, shows in defense of Socrates, Plato, the Parmenideans,
and Pythagoreans, that ideas were not introduced by these divine men
according to the usual meaning of names, as was the opinion of Chrysippus,
Archedemus, and many of the junior Stoics; for ideas are distinguished by
many differences from things which are denominated from custom. Nor do
they subsist, says he, together with intellect, in the same manner as
those slender conceptions which are denominated universals abstracted
from sensibles, according to the hypothesis of Longinus:[12] for if that
which subsists is unsubstantial, it cannot be consubsistent with intellect.

-----------------
[11] See my translation of Aristotle's Metaphysics, p. 347. If the reader
conjoins what is said concerning ideas in the notes on that work, with
the introduction and notes to the Parmenides in this, he will be in
possession of nearly all that is to be found in the writings of the
ancients on this subject.

[12] It appears from this passage of Syrianus that Longinus was the
original inventor of the theory of abstract ideas; and that Mr. Locke was
merely the restorer of it.
-----------------

Nor are ideas according to these men notions, as Cleanthes afterwards
asserted them to be. Nor is idea definite reason, nor material form; for
these subsist in composition and division, and verge to matter. But ideas
are perfect, simple, immaterial, and impartible natures. And what wonder
is there, says Syrianus, if we should separate things which are so much
distant from each other? Since neither do we imitate in this particular
Plutarch, Atticus, and Democritus, who, because universal reasons
perpetually subsist in the essence of the soul, were of opinion that these
reasons are ideas: for though they separate them from the universal in
sensible natures, yet it is not proper to conjoin in one and the same the
reason of soul, and an intellect such as ours, with paradigmatic and
immaterial forms, and demiurgic intellections. But as the divine Plato
says, it is the province of our soul to collect things into one by a
reasoning process, and to possess a reminiscence of those transcendent
spectacles, which we once beheld when governing the universe in conjunction
with divinity. Boethus,[13] the peripatetic too, with whom it is proper to
join Cornutus; thought that ideas are the same with universals in sensible
natures. However, whether these universals are prior to particulars, they
are not prior in such a manner as to be denudated from the habitude which
they possess with respect to them, nor do they subsist as the causes of
particulars; both which are the prerogatives of ideas; or whether they are
posterior to particulars, as many are accustomed to call them, how can
things of posterior origin, which have no essential subsistence, but are
nothing more than slender conceptions, sustain the dignity of fabricative
ideas?

-------------------
[13] This was a Greek philosopher, who is often cited by Simplicius in
his Commentary on the Predicaments, and must not therefore be confounded
with Boetius, the roman senator and philosopher.
-------------------

In what manner then, says Syrianus, do ideas subsist according to the
contemplative lovers of truth? We reply, intelligibly and tetradically
([Greek: noeros kai tetradikos]), in animal itself ([Greek: en to
antozoo]), or the extremity of the intelligible order; but intellectually
and decadically ([Greek: noeros kai dekadikos]), in the intellect of the
artificer of the universe; for, according to the Pythagoric Hymn, "Divine
number proceeds from the retreats of the undecaying monad, till it arrives
at the divine tetrad which produced the mother of all things, the universal
recipient, venerable, circularly investing all things with bound, immovable
and unwearied, and which is denominated the sacred decad, both by the
immortal gods and earth-born men."

[Greek:
Proeisi gar o Theios arithmos, os phesin o Pythagoreios eis auton
umnos,
  Monados ek keuthmonos akeralou esti'an iketai
  Tetrada epi zatheen, he de teke metera panton,
  Pandechea, presbeiran, oron peri pasi titheiran,
  Atropon, akamatou, dekada kleiousi min agnen,
  Athanatoi to theoi kai gegeneeis anthropoi.]

And such is the mode of their subsistence according to Orpheus,
Pythagoras and Plato. Or if it be requisite to speak in more familiar
language, an intellect sufficient to itself, and which is a most perfect
cause, presides over the wholes of the universe, and through these
governs all its parts; but at the same time that it fabricates all
mundane natures, and benefits them by its providential energies, it
preserves its own most divine and immaculate purity; and while it
illuminates all things, is not mingled with the natures which it
illuminates. This intellect, therefore, comprehending in the depths of
its essence an ideal world, replete with all various forms, excludes
privation of cause and casual subsistence, from its energy. But as it
imparts every good and all possible beauty to its fabrications, it
converts the universe to itself, and renders it similar to its own
omniform nature. Its energy, too, is such as its intellection; but it
understands all things, since it is most perfect. Hence there is not any
thing which ranks among true beings, that is not comprehended in the
essence of intellect; but it always establishes in itself ideas, which
are not different from itself and its essence, but give completion to it,
and introduce to the whole of things, a cause which is at the same time
productive, paradigmatic, and final. For it energizes as intellect, and
the ideas which it contains are paradigmatic, as being forms; and they
energize from themselves, and according to their own exuberant goodness.
And such are the Platonic dogmas concerning ideas, which sophistry and
ignorance may indeed oppose, but will never be able to confute.

From this intelligible world, replete with omniform ideas, this sensible
world, according to Plato, perpetually flows, depending on its artificer
intellect, in the same manner as shadow on its forming substance. For as
a deity of an intellectual characteristic is its fabricator, and both the
essence and energy of intellect are established in eternity the sensible
universe, which is the effect or production of such an energy, must be
consubsistent with its cause, or in other words, must be a perpetual
emanation from it. This will be evident from considering that every thing
which is generated, is either generated by art or by nature, or according
to power. It is necessary, therefore, that every thing operating
according to nature or art should be prior to the things produced; but
that things operating according to power should have their productions
coexistent with themselves; just as the sun produces light coexistent
with itself; fire, heat; and snow, coldness. If therefore the artificer
of the universe produced it by art, he would not cause it simply to be,
but to be in some particular manner; for all art produces form. Whence
therefore does the world derive its being? If he produced it from nature,
since that which makes by nature imparts something of itself to its
productions, and the maker of the world is incorporeal, it would be
necessary that the world, the offspring of such an energy, should be
incorporeal. It remains therefore, that the demiurgus produced the
universe by power alone; but every thing generated by power subsists
together with the cause containing this power: and hence production of
this kind cannot be destroyed unless the producing cause is deprived of
power. The divine intellect therefore that produced the sensible universe
caused it to be coexistent with himself.

This world thus depending on its divine artificer, who is himself an
intelligible world replete with the archetypal ideas of all things,
considered according to its corporeal nature, is perpetually flowing, and
perpetually advancing to being (en to gignesthai), and compared with its
paradigm, has no stability or reality of being. However, considered as
animated by a divine soul, and as receiving the illuminations of all the
supermundane gods, and being itself the receptacle of divinities from
whom bodies are suspended, it is said by Plato in the Timaeus to be a
blessed god. The great body of this world too, which subsists in a
perpetual dispersion of temporal extension, may be properly called a
whole with a total subsistence, on account of the perpetuity of its
duration, though this is nothing more than a flowing eternity. And hence
Plato calls it a whole of wholes; by the other wholes which are
comprehended in its meaning, the celestial spheres, the sphere of fire,
the whole of air considered as one great orb; the whole earth, and the
whole sea. These spheres, which are called by Platonic writers parts with
a total subsistence, are considered by Plato as aggoregately perpetual.
For if the body of this world is perpetual, this also must be the case
with its larger parts, on account of their exquisite alliance to it, and
in order that wholes with a partial subsistence, such as all individuals,
may rank in the last gradation of things.

As the world too, considered as one great comprehending whole, is called
by Plato a divine animal, so likewise every whole which it contains is a
world, possessing in the first place, a self-perfect unity; proceeding
from the ineffable, by which it becomes a god; in the second place, a
divine intellect; in the third place, a divine soul; and in the last
place, a deified body. Hence each of these wholes is the producing cause
of all the multitude which it contains, and on this account is said to be
a whole prior to parts; because, considered as possessing an eternal form
which holds all its parts together, and gives to the whole perpetuity of
subsistence, it is not indigent of such parts to the perfection of its
being. That these wholes which rank thus high in the universe are
animated, must follow by a geometrical necessity. For, as Theophrastus
well observes, wholes would possess less authority than parts, and things
eternal than such as are corruptible, if deprived of the possession
of soul.

And now having with venturous, yet unpresuming wing, ascended to the
ineffable principle of things, and standing with every eye closed in the
vestibules of the adytum, found that we could announce nothing concerning
him, but only indicate our doubts and disappointment, and having thence
descended to his occult and most venerable progeny, and passing through
the luminous world of ideas, holding fast by the golden chain of deity,
terminated our downward flight in the material universe, and its
undecaying wholes, let us stop awhile and contemplate the sublimity and
magnificence of the scene which this journey presents to our view. Here
then we see the vast empire of deity, an empire terminated upwards by a
principle so ineffable that all language is subverted about it, and
downwards, by the vast body of the world. Immediately subsisting after
this immense unknown we in the next place behold a mighty all-
comprehending one, which as being next to that which is in every
respect incomprehensible, possesses much of the ineffable and unknown.
From this principle of principles, in which all things casually subsist
absorbed in superessential light and involved in unfathomable depths, we
view a beauteous progeny of principles, all largely partaking of the
ineffable, all stamped with the occult characters of deity, all
possessing an over-flowing fullness of good. From these dazzling summits,
these ineffable blossoms, these divine propagations, we next see being,
life, intellect, soul, nature and body depending; monads suspended from
unities, deified natures proceeding from deities. Each of these monads
too, is the leader of a series which extends from itself to the last of
things, and which while it proceeds from, at the same time abides in, and
returns to its leader. And all these principles and all their progeny are
finally centred, and rooted by their summits in the first great all-
comprehending one. Thus all beings proceed from, and are comprehended
in the first being; all intellects emanate from one first intellect; all
souls from one first soul; all natures blossom from one first nature; and
all bodies proceed from the vital and luminous body of the world. And
lastly, all these great monads are comprehended in the first one, from
which both they and all their depending series are unfolded into light.
Hence this first one is truly the unity of unities, the monad of monads,
the principle of principles, the God of gods, one and all things, and yet
one prior to all.

Such, according to Plato, are the flights of the true philosopher, such
the August and magnificent scene which presents itself to his view. By
ascending these luminous heights, the spontaneous tendencies of the soul
to deity alone find the adequate object of their desire; investigation
here alone finally reposes, doubt expires in certainty, and knowledge
loses itself in the ineffable.

And here perhaps some grave objector, whose little soul is indeed acute,
but sees nothing with a vision healthy and sound, will say that all this
is very magnificent, but that it is soaring too high for man; that it is
merely the effect of spiritual pride; that no truths, either in morality
or theology, are of any importance which are not adapted to the level of
the meanest capacity; and that all that it is necessary for man to know
concerning either God or himself is so plain, that he that runs may read.
In answer to such like cant, for it is nothing more,--a cant produced by
the most profound ignorance, and frequently attended with the most
deplorable envy, I ask, is then the Delphic precept, KNOW THYSELF, a
trivial mandate? Can this be accomplished by every man? Or can any one
properly know himself without knowing the rank he holds in the scale of
being? And can this be effected without knowing what are the natures
which he surpasses, and what those are by which he is surpassed? And can
he know this without knowing as much of those natures as it is possible
for him to know? And will the objector be hardy enough to say that every
man is equal to this arduous task? That he who rushes from the forge, or
the mines, with a soul distorted, crushed and bruised by base mechanical
arts, and madly presumes to teach theology to a deluded audience, is
master of this sublime, this most important science? For my own part I
know of no truths which are thus obvious, thus accessible to every man,
but axioms, those self-evident principles of science which are
conspicuous by their own light, which are the spontaneous unperverted
conceptions of the soul, and to which he who does not assent deserves, as
Aristotle justly remarks, either pity or correction. In short, if this is
to be the criterion of all moral and theological knowledge, that it must
be immediately obvious to every man, that it is to be apprehended by the
most careless inspection, what occasion is there for seminaries of
learning? Education is ridiculous, the toil of investigation is idle. Let
us at once confine Wisdom in the dungeons of Folly, recall Ignorance from
her barbarous wilds, and close the gates of Science with
everlasting bars.

Having thus taken a general survey of the great world, and descended from
the intelligible to the sensible universe, let us still, adhering to that
golden chain which is bound round the summit of Olympus, and from which
all things are suspended, descend to the microcosm man. For man
comprehends in himself partially everything which the world contains
divinely and totally. Hence, according to Pluto, he is endued with an
intellect subsisting in energy, and a rational soul proceeding from the
same father and vivific goddess as were the causes of the intellect and
soul of the universe. He has likewise an ethereal vehicle analogous to
the heavens, and a terrestrial body, composed from the four elements, and
with which also it is coordinate.

With respect to his rational part, for in this the essence of man
consists, we have already shown that it is of a self-motive nature, and
that it subsists between intellect, which is immovable both in essence
and energy, and nature, which both moves and is moved. In consequence of
this middle subsistence, the mundane soul, from which all partial souls
are derived, is said by Plato in the Timaeus, to be a medium between that
which is indivisible and that which is divisible about bodies, i.e. the
mundane soul is a medium between the mundane intellect, and the whole of
that corporeal life which the world participates. In like manner, the
human soul is a medium between a daemoniacal intellect proximately,
established above our essence, which it also elevates and perfects, and
that corporeal life which is distributed about our body, and which is
the cause of its generation, nutrition and increase. This daemoniacal
intellect is called by Plato, in the Phaedrus, theoretic and, the
governor of the soul. The highest part therefore of the human soul is the
summit of the dianoetic power ([Greek: to akrotaton tes dianoias]), or
that power which reasons scientifically; and this summit is our intellect.
As, however, our very essence is characterized by reason, this our summit
is rational, and though it subsists in energy, yet it has a remitted union
with things themselves. Though too it energizes from itself, and contains
intelligibles in its essence, yet from its alliance to the discursive
nature of soul, and its inclination to that which is divisible, it falls
short of the perfection of an intellectual essence and energy profoundly
indivisible and united, and the intelligibles which it contains degenerate
from the transcendently fulged and self-luminous nature of first
intelligibles. Hence, in obtaining a perfectly indivisible knowledge, it
requires to be perfected by an intellect whose energy is ever vigilant
and unremitted; and it's intelligibles, that they may become perfect,
are indigent of the light which proceeds from separate intelligibles.
Aristotle, therefore, very properly compares the intelligibles of our
intellect to colors, because these require the splendour of the sun, and
denominates an intellect of this kind, intellect in capacity, both on
account of its subordination to an essential intellect, and because it is
from a separate intellect that it receives the full perfection of its
nature. The middle part of the rational soul is called by Plato, dianoia,
and is that power which, as we have already said, reasons scientifically,
deriving the principles of its reasoning, which are axioms from intellect.
And the extremity of the rational soul is opinion, which in his Sophista
he defines to be that power which knows the conclusion of dianoia. This
power also knows the universal in sensible particulars, as that every man
is a biped, but it knows only the oti, or that a thing is, but is ignorant
of the dioti, or why it is: knowledge of the latter kind being the province
of the dianoetic power.

And such is Plato's division of the rational part of our nature, which he
very justly considers as the true man; the essence of every thing
consisting in its most excellent part.

After this follows the irrational nature, the summit of which is the
phantasy, or that power which perceives every thing accompanied with
figure and interval; and on this account it may be called a figured
intelligence ([Greek: morphotike noesis]). This power, as Jamblichus
beautifully observes, groups upon, as it were, and fashions all the
powers of the soul; exciting in opinion the illuminations from the
senses, and fixing in that life which is extended with body, the
impressions which descend from intellect. Hence, slays Proclus, it folds
itself about the indivisibility of true intellect, conforms itself to all
formless species, and becomes perfectly every thing, from which the
dianoetic power and our indivisible reason consists. Hence too, it is all
things passively which intellect is impassively, and on this account
Aristotle calls it passive intellect. Under this subsist anger and
desire, the former resembling a raging lion, and the latter a many-headed
beast; and the whole is bounded by sense, which is nothing more than a
passive perception of things, and on this account is justly said by
Plato, to be rather passion than knowledge; since the former of these is
characterized by alertness, and the latter by energy.

Further still, in order that the union of the soul with this gross
terrestrial body may be effected in a becoming manner, two vehicles,
according to Plato, are necessary as media, one of which is ethereal, and
the other aerial, and of these, the ethereal vehicle is simple and
immaterial, but the aerial, simple and material; and this dense earthly
body is composite and material.

The soul thus subsisting as a medium between natures impartible
and such as are divided about bodies, it produces and constitutes the
latter of these; but establishes in itself the prior causes from which it
proceeds. Hence it previously receives, after the manner of an exemplar,
the natures to which it is prior as their cause; but it possesses through
participation, and as the blossoms of first natures, the causes of its
subsistence. Hence it contains in its essence immaterial forms of things
material, incorporeal of such as are corporeal, and extended of such as
are distinguished by interval. But it contains intelligibles after the
manner of an image, and receives partibly their impartible forms, such
as are uniform variously, and such as are immovable, according to a
self-motive condition. Soul therefore is all things, and is elegantly
said by Olympiodorus to be an omniform statue ([Greek: pammorphon
agalma]): for it contains such things as are first through participation,
but such as are posterior to its nature, after the manner of an exemplar.

As, too, it is always moved; and this always is not eternal, but
temporal, for that which is properly eternal, and such is intellect, is
perfectly stable, and has no transitive energies, hence it is necessary
that its motions should be periodic. For motion is a certain mutation
from some things into others. And beings are terminated by multitudes and
magnitudes. These therefore being terminated, there can neither be an
infinite mutation, according to a right line, nor can that which is
always moved proceed according to a finished progression. Hence that
which is always moved will proceed from the same to the same; and will
thus form a periodic motion. Hence, too, the human, and this also is true
of every mundane soul, uses periods and restitutions of its proper life.
For, in consequence of being measured by time, it energizes transitively,
and possesses a proper motion. But every thing which is moved perpetually
and participates of time, revolves periodically and proceeds from the
same to the same. And hence the soul, from possessing motion, and
energizing according to time, will both possess periods of motion and
restitutions to its pristine state.

Again, as the human soul, according to Plato, ranks among the number of
those souls that sometimes follow the mundane divinities, in consequence
of subsisting immediately after daemons and heroes, the perpetual
attendants of the gods, hence it possesses a power of descending
infinitely into generation, or the sublunary region, and of ascending
from generation to real being. For since it does not reside with divinity
through an infinite time, neither will it be conversant with bodies
through the whole succeeding time. For that which has no temporal
beginning, both according to Plato and Aristotle, cannot have an end; and
that which has no end, is necessarily without a beginning. It remains,
therefore, that every soul must perform periods, both of ascensions from
generation, and of descensions into generation; and that this will never
fail, through an infinite time.

From all this it follows that the soul, while an inhabitant of earth, is
in a fallen condition, an apostate from deity, an exile from the orb of
light. Hence Plato, in the 7th book of his Republic, considering our life
with reference to erudition and the want of it, assimilates us to men in
a subterranean cavern, who have been there confined from their childhood,
and so fettered by chains as to be only able to look before them to the
entrance of the cave which expands to the light, but incapable through
the chain of turning themselves round. He supposes too, that they have
the light of a fire burning far above and behind them; and that between
the fire and the fettered men, there is a road above, along which a low
wall is built. On this wall are seen men bearing utensils of every kind,
and statues in wood and stone of men and other animals. And of these men
some are speaking and others silent. With respect to the fettered men in
this cave, they see nothing of themselves or another, or of what is
carrying along, but the shadows formed by the fire falling on the
opposite part of tho cave. He supposes too, that the opposite part of
this prison has an echo; and that in consequence of this the fettered
men, when they hear any one speak, will imagine that it is nothing else
than the passing shadow.

Here, in the first place, as we have observed in the notes on that book,
the road above between the fire and the fettered men, indicates that
there is a certain ascent in the cave itself from a more abject to a more
elevated life. By this ascent, therefore Plato signifies the contemplation
of dianoetic objects in the mathematical disciplines. For as the shadows
in the cave correspond to the shadows of visible objects, and visible
objects are the immediate images of dianoetic forms, or those ideas which
the soul essentially participates, it is evident that the objects from
which these shadows are formed must correspond to such as are dianoetic.
It is requisite, therefore, that the dianoetic power exercising itself in
these, should draw forth the principles of these from their latent
retreats, and should contemplate them not in images, but as subsisting in
herself in impartible involution.

In the next place he says, "that the man who is to be led from the cave
will more easily see what the heavens contain, and the heavens
themselves, by looking in the night to the light of the stars, and the
moon, than by day looking on the sun, and the light of the sun." By this
he signifies the contemplation of intelligibles: for the stars and their
light are imitations of intelligibles, so far as all of them partake of
the form of the sun, in the same manner as intelligibles are
characterized by the nature of the good.

After the contemplation of these, and after the eye is accustomed through
these to the light, as it is requisite in the visible region to see the
sun himself in the last place, in like manner, according to Plato, the
idea of the good must be seen the last in the intelligible region. He,
likewise divinely adds, that it is scarcely to be seen; for we can only
be conjoined with it through the intelligible, in the vestibule of which
it is beheld by the ascending soul.

In short, the cold, according to Plato, can only be restored while on
earth to the divine likeness, which she abandoned by her descent, and be
able after death to reascend to the intelligible world, by the exercise
of the cathartic and theoretic virtues; the former purifying her from the
defilements of a mortal nature, and the latter elevating her to the
vision of true being: for thus, as Plato says in the Timaeus, "the soul
becoming sane and entire, will arrive at the form of her pristine habit."
The cathartic, however, must necessarily precede the theoretic virtues;
since it is impossible to survey truth while subject to the perturbation
and tumult of the passions. For the rational soul subsisting as a medium
between intellect and the irrational nature, can then only without
revulsion associate with the intellect prior to herself, when she becomes
pure from copassivity with inferior natures. By the cathartic virtues,
therefore, we become sane, in consequence of being liberated from the
passions as diseases; but we become entire by the reassumption of
intellect and science as of our proper parts; and this is effected by
contemplative truth. Plato also clearly teaches us that our apostacy from
better natures is only to be healed by a flight from hence, when he
defines in his Theaetetus philosophy to be a flight from terrestrial
evils: for he evinces by this that passions are connascent with mortals
alone. He likewise says in the same dialogue, "that neither can evil
be abolished, nor yet do they subsist with the gods, but that they
necessarily revolve about this terrene abode, and a mortal nature." For
those who are obnoxious to generation and corruption can also be affected
in a manner contrary to nature, which is the beginning of evils. But in
the same dialogue he subjoins the mode by which our flight from evil
is to be accomplished. "It is necessary," says he "to fly from hence
thither: but the flight is a similitude to divinity, as far as is
possible to man; and this similitude consists in becoming just and holy
in conjunction with intellectual prudence." For it is necessary that he
who wishes to run from evils, should in the first place turn away from a
mortal nature; since it is not possible for those who are mingled with it
to avoid being filled with its attendant evils. As therefore, through our
flight from divinity, and the defluction of those wings which elevate us
on high, we fell into this mortal abode, and thus became connected with
evils, so by abandoning passivity with a mortal nature, and by the
germination of the virtues, as of certain wings, we return to the abode
of pure and true good, and to the possession of divine felicity. For the
essence of many subsisting as a medium between daemoniacal natures, who
always have an intellectual knowledge of divinity, and those beings who
are never adapted by nature to understand him, it ascends to the former
and descends to the latter, through the possession and desertion of
intellect. For it becomes familiar both with the divine and brutal
likeness, through the amphibious condition of its nature.

When the soul therefore has recovered her pristine perfection in as great
a degree as is possible, while she is an inhabitant of earth by the
exercise of the cathartic and theoretic virtues, she returns after death,
as he says in the Timaeus, to her kindred star, from which she fell, and
enjoys a blessed life. Then, too, as he says in the Phaedrus, being
winged, she governs the world in conjunction with the gods. And this
indeed is the most beautiful end of her labors. This is what he calls in
the Phaedo, a great contest and a mighty hope. This is the most perfect
fruit of philosophy to familiarize and lead her back to things truly
beautiful, to liberate her from this terrene abode as from a certain
subterranean cavern of material life, elevate her to ethereal splendors,
and place her in the islands of the blessed.

From this account of the human soul, that most important Platonic dogma
necessarily follows, that our soul essentially contains all knowledge,
and that whatever knowledge she acquires in the present life, is in
reality nothing more than a recovery of what a he once possessed. This
recovery is very properly called by Plato reminiscence, not as being
attended with actual recollection in the present life, but as being an
actual repossession of what the soul had lost through her oblivious union
with the body. Alluding to this essential knowledge of the soul, which
discipline evocates from its dormant retreats, Plato says in the
Sophista, "that we know all things as in a dream, and are again ignorant
of them, according to vigilant perception." Hence too, as Proclus well
observes, it is evident that the soul does not collect her knowledge from
sensibles, nor from things partial and divisible discover the whole and
the one. For it is not proper to think that things which have in no
respect a real subsistence, should be the leading causes of knowledge to
the soul; and that things which oppose each other and are ambiguous,
should precede science which has a sameness of subsistence; nor that
things which are variously mutable, should be generative of reasons which
are established in unity; nor that things indefinite should be the causes
of definite intelligence. It is not fit, therefore, that the truth of
things eternal should be received from the many, nor the discrimination
of universals from sensibles, nor a judgment respecting what is good from
irrational natures; but it is requisite that the soul entering within
herself, should investigate herself the true and the good, and the
eternal reasons of things.

We have said that discipline awakens the dormant knowledge of
the soul; and Plato considered this as particularly effected by the
mathematical discipline. Hence, he asserts of theoretic arithmetic that
it imparts no small aid to our ascent to real being, and that it
liberates us from the wandering and ignorance about a sensible nature.
Geometry too is considered by him as most instrumental to the knowledge
of the good, when it is not pursued for the sake of practical purposes,
but as the means of ascent to an intelligible essence. Astronomy also is
useful for the purpose of investigating the fabricator of all things,
and contemplating as in most splendid images the ideal world, and its
ineffable cause. And lastly music, when properly studied, is subservient
to our ascent, viz. when from sensible we betake ourselves to the
contemplation of ideal and divine harmony. Unless, however, we thus
employ the mathematical discipline, the study of them is justly
considered by Plato as imperfect and useless, and of no worth. For as
the true end of man according to his philosophy is an assimilation to
divinity, in the greatest perfection of which human nature is capable,
whatever contributes to this is to be ardently pursued; but whatever has
a different tendency, however necessary it may be to the wants and
conveniences of the mere animal life, is comparatively little and vile.
Hence it necessary to pass rapidly from things visible and audible, to
those which are alone seen by the eye of intellect. For the mathematical
sciences, when properly studied, move the inherent knowledge of the soul;
awaken its intelligence; purify its dianoetic power; call forth its
essential forms from their dormant retreats; remove that oblivion and
ignorance which are congenial with our birth; and dissolve the bonds
arising from our union with an irrational nature. It is therefore
beautifully said by Plato in the 7th book of his Republic, "that the soul
through these disciplines has an organ purified and enlightened, which is
blinded and buried by studies of a different kind, an organ better worth
saving than ten thousand eyes, since truth becomes visible through this
alone."

Dialectic, however, or the vertex of the mathematical sciences,
as it is called by Plato in his Republic, is that master discipline which
particularly leads us up to an intellig