Chapter XII: Book IV (6)

Can we think that this universe, which we confess to be derived and to exist in this manner, from another, was so composed by its artificer, that he thought within himself concerning the earth; and considered that it ought to rest in the middle? And that afterwards he reasoned concerning the connection of water with earth, and the orderly disposition of things as far as to the heavens? But in the next place concerning all animals, and such, and so many forms of particular vital beings, as they are at present; and the disposition as well of the inward as of the external parts and members? And lastly that he began to produce things in energy, as they were disposed in himself? But such a consideration could not subsist with the artificer of the universe. For how could it take place in him, who had not as yet seen such things in existence? Nor is it possible that he could fabricate, by receiving external assistance, after the manner of human artificers, who operate with hands and instruments: for hands and feet were posterior to his energy. It remains therefore that all things must subsist in their divine cause, and since no medium intervenes, that by the propinquity of being itself, to another, its image and similitude should as it were on a sudden shine forth, whether from itself alone, or through the ministry of soul. For it is of no consequence at present whether or not the world was fabricated properly through a certain soul, if it is but admitted that all things emanated from thence, and subsist there in greater beauty and perfection. For here they are mixt, but there they are pure. But this universe proceeding, from thence, is comprehended by forms from beginning to end. In the first place matter is the receptacle of the elementary forms, and of others in continual succession; so that it is difficult to find matter, thus concealed under a multitude of forms. But since it possesses a certain ultimate form, it easily becomes the subject of every form. Hence since the exemplar of the universe is form, he produced all forms; and this without any difficulty or violence, because the artificer there is a divine universe, and essence, and form. Hence too his fabrication was easy, and without labour: for there was no impediment; and on this account he now rules over his work with absolute dominion. And although some particulars are every where in opposition to others, yet they cannot now oppose the universal fabric, for it abides as the whole. Indeed I think if we were the first exemplars of things, and at the same time essence, and forms, and if the form which operates here was our essence, that our fabrication would rule without labour, though man as at present should fabricate a form different from himself. For becoming man he ceases to be the universe: but when he ceases to be man as Plato says, he raises himself on high, and governs the world. _For being made of the whole, he also makes the whole._ But that we may return to our design, you may indeed produce a reason, why the earth is placed in the middle, and why it is round, or why the zodiac is situated in a certain place: but in the intelligible world it was not deliberated so to be, because it was requisite; but rather because it is as it exists, on this account it is constituted as it ought: just as if previous to a syllogistic energy through causes, the conclusion itself should remain indubitably certain, without any propositions. For nothing there depends on consequences, nothing becomes certain from consideration: but it subsists prior to consequence, and all consideration. For all these are posterior, _reason_, _demonstration_, _faith_. Since on account of the principle all these exist, and are thus disposed. But it is rightly said that the causes of the principle are not to be sought after; especially of a perfect principle, which is the same with the end: for that which is both principle and end, is at the same time the whole, and perfect in every part.

Intellect itself, therefore, is the first beauty; it is total, and is every where total, without suffering a defect of beauty in any part. What then is the beautiful itself to be called? Certainly, not any thing which is not the whole itself, but either possesses a part only, or is entirely destitute of its participation. Indeed unless this is the beautiful itself, what else can merit this appellation? For that which is prior to intellect, does not will itself to be beautiful, but is something ineffably more excellent. Hence that which first presents itself to our view, because it is form, and a spectacle of intellect, is by this means lovely, and pleasant to the sight. On this account Plato wishing to intimate to us this truth, represents the demiurgus of the universe, approving his own perfect work; willing from hence to exhibit, by something more manifest to our apprehension, the beauty of the exemplar, and of his great idea, as perfectly lovely. For as often as any one admires a work, fabricated according to an exemplar, he must particularly admire the exemplar itself. Nor ought it to seem wonderful if in the mean time such a one, is ignorant of what he suffers: since terrene lovers, and those who admire corporeal beauty, are ignorant that they are thus affected, on account of supernal beauty. But that Plato refers the demiurgus of the universe loving his work, to the divine exemplar, is evident from hence: for he says, that he was delighted with his work, and wished to render it still more similar to its exemplar: evincing from this the beauty of the exemplar, for says he its work is beautiful, because it is the image of its artificer. For indeed unless that was inestimably beautiful, what would be more beautiful than this universe, which is subject to our corporeal sight? On which account they do not perceive rightly, who detract from the beauty of this sensible world; unless in detracting they perceive that this universe is not the intelligible world.

Let us then receive by cogitation this our sensible world, so disposed that every part may remain indeed what it is, but that one thing may mutually reside in another. Let us suppose that all things are collected as much as possible into one, so that each particular object may first present itself to the eyes; as if a sphere should be the exterior boundary, the spectacle of the sun immediately succeeding, and an image of the other stars, and the earth, the sea and all animals should appear within, as in a diaphanous globe: and lastly let us conceive that it is possible to behold all things in each. Let there be then in the soul a lucid imagination of a sphere, containing all things in its transparent receptacle; whether they are agitated, or at rest; or partly mutable, and partly stable. Now preserving this sphere receive another in your soul, removing from this last the extension into bulk, take away likewise place, and banish far from yourself all imagination of matter: at the same time being careful not to conceive this second sphere, as something less than the first in bulk, for this must be void of all dimension. After this invoke that divinity who is the author of the universe, imaged in your phantasy, and earnestly intreat him to approach. Then will he suddenly come, bearing with him his own divine world, with all the gods it contains. Then will he come, being at the same time one and all, and bringing with him all things concurring in one. There indeed all the gods, are various amongst themselves in gradations of power, yet by that one abundant power they are all but one, or rather one is all: for the divinity never fails, by which they are all produced. But all the gods abide together, and each is again separate from the other in a certain state unattended with distance, and bearing no form subject to sensible inspection: or one would be situated differently from the other, nor each be in itself all. Nor again does any one of these possess parts different from others, and from itself: nor is every whole there a divided power, and of a magnitude equal to its measured parts; but it is indeed a universe, and a universal power, proceeding to infinity in a power, which is the parent of energy. But this divine world is so truly great, that its parts become infinite. For where can any thing be said to exist, with which it is not extended? This sensible world too is great, and all powers are contained in its ample bosom: but it would be much greater, and that in a manner perfectly ineffable, if it was free from the diminutive power of body. And if it should be said that the power of fire and of other bodies is great, it must be remembered that true powers are infinite, and that it is only from an ignorance of these, that corporeal natures appear to have being, and to operate by corrupting, separating, and ministring to the generation of animals. But these indeed corrupt, because they are themselves corrupted, and they generate because they are generated. But the power which flourishes there, possesses being alone, and is alone beautiful, without any external and adventitious qualities, which only derogate from the dignity of essence. For where can there be any thing beautiful, deprived of being? And where again can essence abide, if it wants the presence of beauty? For while beauty is taken away, essence is destroyed. On this account being itself is desirable, because being, and beauty are the same: and the beautiful is lovely; because it is being. But it is not proper to enquire which is the cause of the other, since the nature of each is one and the same. The false essences indeed of bodies, require a certain image of beauty, extrinsically acceding, both that they may appear beautiful, and that they may inherit in obscure portion of being. For they so far partake of essence as they participate of beauty, consisting in form: and by how much the more they receive of this kind of beauty, so much the more of perfection do they inherit: for by this means a beautiful essence, and beauty itself is more peculiar to their nature.

On this account Jupiter himself, who is the most ancient of the other gods which he leads, proceeds first to the contemplation of the intelligible world. But afterwards the subordinate gods, demons, and souls follow him, who are able to perceive such transcendently lucid objects. And this divine world shines upon them, from a certain occult place, which is no other than the abode of ineffable unity. But it illustrates all the divinities with its light: and excites to itself superior souls who are afterwards converted to its splendid vision, which before they were incapable of perceiving; and which like the sun dazzles the eye unaccustomed to intellectual light. And while some with elevated eyes, easily bear its intuition, others who are more distant from its nature are disturbed with the vision. But since each of these blessed inhabitants, perceives according to his ability, all of them indeed behold this intelligible world, with its various contents, yet they do not all retain the same spectacle, but while they are lost in attentive vision, one beholds the lucid fountain and nature of the just itself, while another abundantly perceives temperance itself, but not such as that which resides with men, when they enjoy its possession. For this our temperance imitates the supreme: but that diffusing itself in all things, as if about all the magnitude of its nature, is finally perceived by those, who have already beheld many perspicuous spectacles. On this account the gods behold every thing separate, and at the same time all things together: they perceive too divine souls there, whose vision is universal; and their nature becomes such from unbounded perception, that they contain all things from the beginning to the end.

These divine objects therefore, Jupiter himself and those of us who together with Jupiter love this intelligible world, happily contemplate, together with that universal beauty shining from all, and whatever participates of the beauty, which there abides. For every thing there glitters, and illuminates the spectators with its light, so that they become beautiful by its lustre: just as it happens to those who ascend the highest mountains, where the earth is yellow: for they are immediately infected with the colour, and become similar to the earth, to which they ascend. But the colour which flourishes in the divine world is beauty itself; or rather every thing there is wholly colour, and profound beauty. For beauty there, is not like that which flourishes in the superficies of bodies: but among those who do not perceive the whole, that alone which is resplendent in the superficies is considered as beauty. But those who are totally filled with the intoxicating nectar of divine contemplation, since beauty diffuses itself through every part of their souls do not become spectators alone. For in this case the spectator is no longer external to the spectacle: but he who acutely perceives, contains the object of his perception in the depths of his own essence; though while possessing, he is often ignorant that he possesses. For he who beholds any thing as external, beholds it as something visible, and because he wishes to perceive it attended with distance. But whatever is beheld as _perceptible_, is beheld externally: but it is requisite we should transfer the divine spectacle into ourselves, and, behold it as one, and as the same with our essence: just as if any one hurried away by the vigorous impulse of some god, whether Apollo or one of the Muses, should procure in himself the intuition of the god; since in the secret recesses of his own essence, he will behold the divinity himself. But if any one of us who is not able to perceive himself entirely comprehended by this divinity, should produce a spectacle into his view, for the purpose of assisting his vision, he should produce himself; and he will then perceive an image of the intelligible world, now become more beautiful and divine. But afterwards neglecting the image although beautiful, and conspiring with himself into one, and no longer separating his essence, he will become _one all_ together with that deity, who silently flows into his soul; and he will be present with him as far as he is able, and as much as he desires. But if he should return from this divine union into two, and is in the mean time pure, he will nevertheless dwell proximate to its essence; so that by conversion, he may again be present and become united with his divinity. But the gain of the soul will consist in this ineffable conversion. Indeed, when it first attempts this union, it perceives itself, as long as it is different from the god: but when it has penetrated into its most intimate recesses, it will then find itself in possession of the intelligible universe; and casting sense behind, fearing lest it should become different, it will be one with this divine world. And if it desires to perceive as something different, it will place itself external to its object. But it is requisite that the soul which is about to perceive a divinity of this kind, should possess a certain figure of his nature, and assiduously persevere, while it endeavours perspicuously to know him; and thus well understanding the importance of its pursuit, and trusting it is about to enter on the most blessed vision, should profoundly merge itself in contemplation, till instead of a spectator, it may become another specimen of the object of its intuition; such as it came from thence, abundantly shining with intellectual conceptions. But how can any one reside in the beautiful itself, unless he perceives it? Indeed, if he perceives it as something different, he will not as yet abide in beauty. But becoming beautiful, he will thus especially exist in beauty. If then vision is directed to something external, it is not proper that vision should be there, or if it is it should become one with the object of perception. But a doubt of this kind is like a certain consciousness of some one fearing, lest if he wished to perceive more vehemently, he should depart from himself. For thus disease more vehemently impels and excites our sensation: but health dwelling with us more quietly, exhibits a truer knowledge of itself, since it is present with silence and tranquillity, as something familiar and allied to us; and conspires into one with our composition. On the contrary disease possesses nothing domestic, but is entirely foreign from our nature; and hence its presence is more manifest on account of its diversity: but such things as are peculiarly our own, are present with us, without any manifest sensation. So that when we are in this condition, we are then most of all known to ourselves; since our science in this case is one and the same with our essence. Hence, in the divine world, when we are most knowing according to intellect, we appear to be ignorant, expecting the passion of sense, which says it does not perceive; nor indeed does it see; nor can it ever attain to the intuition of such exalted objects. That which distrusts its vision then is sense: but it is something else which perceives. And if this too should doubt, it is no longer its true self. For neither can this last when it places itself externally, behold that which is intelligible, as if it were sensible, and to be seen with corporeal eyes.

But it has been shewn how the soul may be able to accomplish this as different from its object, and how when the same. But what will the perceiver relate whether abiding as different, or the same? He will tell that he saw this god, who is the same with the intelligible world, generating a beautiful son, and producing all things in his essence without any labour and fatigue. For this deity being delighted with his work, and loving his progeny, continues and connects all things with himself, pleased both with himself, and with the splendors his offspring exhibit. But since all these are beautiful, and those which remain within are still more beautiful, Jupiter the son of intellect alone shines forth externally, proceeding from the splendid retreats of his father. From which last son, we may behold as in an image, the greatness of his fire, and of his brethren those divine ideas, who abide in occult union with their father. But this ultimate progeny does not affirm in vain, that he proceeds from his parent intellect: for he is another world, proceeding from this first, and becoming beautiful, like an image of beauty. For it is not lawful that the image of beauty and of essence, should not be beautiful. Hence, he in every respect imitates his exemplars. For he possesses life, and the gift of essence as a certain imitation of stable essence, and life ever vigilant: he possesses also beauty, so far as he proceeds from thence; and perpetual duration, as a moving image of the eternity of intellect abiding in one: for if this is not admitted, he would at one time exhibit his image and not at another. But he is not an image fabricated by art; and every image formed by nature, lasts as long as its exemplar endures. Hence they do not conceive rightly, who think this world may be destroyed, that which is divine remaining in the full perfection of its essence, and thus imagine the world generated, and that its author on a certain time consulted concerning its production. Such as these indeed neither wish to understand, nor are at all acquainted with the mode of its formation, and are ignorant that so long as the splendors of that divine world endure, so long will this visible universe beam from thence, and will never be destroyed, since the original of each is the same. But the intelligible world always was, and always will be: appellations of this kind being adopted from necessity, for the purpose of conveying the conceptions of our minds.

Saturn, therefore, who according to poetical fable is feigned bound, because he always perseveres in the same divine energies of his nature: who is also reported to have delivered the government of this universe to his son Jupiter (for it was not proper that he having dismissed his government, should follow a nature junior and posterior to himself, since he comprehends in himself the plentitude of all beauty.) Saturn, I say, omitting all subordinate natures established in himself his father Cælum, and raised himself on high as far as to this ineffable principle. He likewise established succeeding natures originated posterior to him, from his son. And thus he possesses a middle situation between both, through a diversity of section from that which is above him, and from his abstaining from inferior concerns, while he is fabled by a subordinate care to be bound in chains; thus obtaining a middle situation between his greater father, and his inferior son. But since his father Cælum, is something greater than beauty, hence Saturn or intellect is the first beauty, though soul is likewise beautiful: yet intellect is more beautiful than soul, because soul is only its vestige; and is naturally beautiful through this, though it is far more beautiful when it beholds the perfect nature of intellect. If then the soul of the universe (that we may use words more generally known), and Venus herself is beautiful, what must be the beauty of intellect? For if soul and Venus possess this from themselves, how great must be the splendor of intellect? But if from another, from whom does soul possess the beauty as well acceding, as natural to her essence? Indeed, whenever we are beautiful, we become so from the possession of our own nature alone: but we are base, when we are precipitated into an inferior nature. So that we are beautiful when we know, but base when we are ignorant of ourselves. Beauty, therefore, shines in Saturn or intellect, with primary splendors. But are these considerations sufficient to a knowledge of the divine world the intelligible place? Or must we proceed another way in its investigation?”

And thus much for the doctrine of Plotinus, as delivered by him in the two preceding inestimable books. I shall only add the following observations concerning the Platonic triad of principles, as conceived and illustrated by this extraordinary man, and some reflections concerning the Christian trinity, with which I shall take my leave of Plotinus.

According to Plotinus then, as the divinely solitary principle of things is perfectly simple, it necessarily follows that he must be perfectly sufficient, and perpetually exuberant. Hence, he must be a producing cause; and that which he first produces, must be the most similar of all things to himself. And this is no other than intellect, or the intelligible world, the nature of which has been so divinely explained by this philosopher, in the preceding book. Now this intelligible world on account of its perfect similitude to the one, contains all multitude in occult and indistant union: for it is requisite that multitude should exist occultly, before it is scattered abroad and diffused into separate forms; and that it should be concealed in the profound recesses of intellect, before it emerges into the diffused splendors of multitude perfectly divided and discreet. Just as the duad is posterior to unity, and contains number, without being perfect number itself. But as it is necessary that this occult multitude, should be perfectly diffused, in order to the actual diversity of things, and the existence of the sensible world, hence a third procession originates, in which multitude no longer subsists in indivisible union, but proceeds from the sanctuary of intellect into absolute diversity and separation. And this third principle is no other than soul, which expands the impartibility of intellect, and unfolds all that was involved in the unity of intellectual perception. Now, besides these, there can be no other principles: for after the cause by which multitude is perfectly evolved, nothing but the gradation and diversities of multitude can subsist. Hence, as Plotinus justly observes[66], “we ought not to entertain any other principles, but having established the _simple good_ as first, we should place the supreme intellect as the next, and then the universal soul as the third in descent. For this is the proper order according to nature, neither to make more, nor less intelligibles than these three. For he who contracts the number of these, must of necessity either suppose soul, and intellect to be the same, or else intellect and the first good. But that all these three are different from each other we have often asserted and proved.”

It must here, however, be observed, as Dr. Cudworth justly remarks[67], that this third hypostasis or principle, is not the immediate soul of the world (according to Plotinus, and the best of the Platonists) but ψυχὴ ὑπερκόσμιος, a super-mundane soul. For thus Proclus plainly asserts[68], not only of Amelius, but also of Porphyry, who followed Plotinus in this particular. “After Amelius, Porphyry, thinking to agree with Plotinus, calls the super-mundane soul, the demiurgus of the world, and that intellect to which it is converted not the demiurgus, but the paradigm of the world.” Indeed, this super-mundane soul must be too nearly allied to the supreme intellect, to become the immediate animating principle of the world; and as the gradation of things throughout the universe, subsists by the most gentle and easy declension, the descent would be precipitate, to make the highest soul connected with the mundane body. Besides as multitude subsists retired and concealed in the supreme intellect, such an intellect cannot be the artificer of the world, since all forms reside there in stable and indivisible union: but a procession and extension of these forms is requisite to the production of the visible universe. And as every cause is superior to its effect, and as the mundane soul must be connate with the world, hence the demiurgus of the world, must be superior to the mundane soul.

Such then is the Platonic triad, composed from three distinct, and different principles; and having no similitude except in name, to the trinity of the Christian faith, as established by _law_. The Platonic philosophers indeed took a bold flight, for they soared to the principle of things, and drew abundantly from the ineffable and eternal fountain of good: but they never rose so high as to discover that the three persons of their triad were identically one. As men merely assisted by the illuminations of intellect, they saw the necessity of three principles, to the existence of the universe, but they had not yet penetrated the awful veil of the most mystic theology, and beheld the triple deity, seated on the tremendous throne of _unintelligible_ faith. They were capable of demonstrating that the principle of all was perfectly _simple_ and _one_: but their eyes were not acute enough to survey the _triplicity_ of the _one_. Had they but been blest with the _light_ of the moderns, what wonders would have opened to their view! They would then have understood the trinity in unity, and the godhead in the manhood, absurdity involved in mystery, and mystery in absurdity. In short, they would have discovered, that the supreme so far from being separate from multitude, and superior to essence itself, as they fondly imagined, took upon himself the actual form of a man, that he might enlighten the vilest and most obscure of mankind, and that by suffering an ignominious death, he might appease his own wrath, and satisfy the vengeance of his injured deity. However, an impartial reader must confess, that considering their ignorance of these sublime particulars, their discoveries were admirable and profound; and a sagacious modern will doubtless rejoice to find that they believed in a god, who was the principle of things, though at the same time they were so blind, as not to perceive that like _Cerberus_ he was triple!