Chapter LI (9)

The Gods, therefore, possess an hyparxis uniform and ineffable, a power generative of wholes, and an intellect perfect and full of conceptions; and they give subsistence to all things according to this triad. Hence it is necessary that the participations of those divinities who are of a more elevated order, and who are arranged nearer to _the good_, should proceed triadically through all things to which they give subsistence. It is also necessary that among these, those participations should be more ineffable, which are defined according to the _hyparxes_ of the first Gods; but that those should be more apparent, and more divided, which are illuminated according to the _intellect_ of exempt causes; and that those participations which are between these, should be such as are the effluxions of _prolific powers_. For the fathers of wholes giving subsistence to all things, have disseminated in all things vestiges, and impressions of their own triadic hypostasis; since nature also inserts in bodies an exciting principle (εναυσμα) derived from her proper idiom through which she moves bodies, and governs them as by a rudder. And the demiurgus has established in the universe an image of his own monadic transcendency, through which he governs the world, holding a rudder, as Plato says, like a pilot. It is proper to think therefore, that these rudders and this helm of the universe, in which the demiurgus being seated orderly disposes the world, are nothing else than a symbol of the whole fabrication of things, to us indeed difficult of comprehension, but to the Gods themselves known and manifest. And why is it requisite to speak concerning these things, since of the ineffable cause of all, who is beyond intelligibles, there is an impression in every being, and even as far as to the last of things, through which all things are suspended from him, some more remotely, and others more near, according to the clearness and obscurity of the impression which they contain. This it is which moves all things to the desire of good, and imparts to beings this inextinguishable love. And this impression is indeed unknown: for it pervades as far as to things which are incapable of knowledge. It is also more excellent than life; for it is present with things inanimate: and has not an intellectual power; since it lies in things destitute of intellectual energy. As nature therefore, the demiurgic monad, and the father himself who is exempt from all things, have disseminated in things posterior, impressions of their respective peculiarities, and through these convert all things to themselves, in like manner all the Gods impart to their progeny, symbols of their cause, and through these establish all things in themselves, The impressions, therefore, of the hyparxis of the higher order of Gods, which are disseminated in secondary natures are ineffable and unknown, and their efficacious and motive energy surpasses all intelligence. And of this kind are the characters of light, through which the Gods unfold themselves to their progeny; these characters subsisting unically in the Gods themselves, but shining forth to the view in the genera more excellent than man, and presenting themselves to us divisibly, and accompanied with form. Hence the Gods[396] exhort “To understand the fore-running form of light.” For subsisting on high without form, it becomes invested with form through its progression; and there being established occultly and uniformly, it becomes apparent to us through motion, from the Gods themselves; possessing indeed an efficacious energy, through a divine cause, but becoming figured, through the essence by which it is received.

Again, the impressions which are illuminated from powers, are in a certain respect media between things ineffable and effable, and pervade through all the middle genera. For it is not possible for the primary gifts of the Gods to arrive to us, without the more excellent genera (i.e. angels, dæmons and heroes) previously participating the illuminations which thence proceed. But these illuminations subsisting appropriately in each of their participants, and co-ordinately in all things, unfold the powers that give them subsistence. Of this kind are the symbols of the Gods, which are indeed uniform in the more elevated orders, but multiform in those that are subordinate; and which the theurgic art imitating exhibits through inarticulate evocations (αδιαρθρωτων εκφωνησεων).

The impressions which rank as the third in order, which pervade from intellectual essences to all peculiarities, and proceed as far as to us, are divine names, through which the Gods are invoked, and by which they are celebrated, being unfolded into light by the Gods themselves, and reverting to them, and producing to human knowledge as much of the Gods as is apparent. For through these we are able to signify something to each other, and to converse with ourselves about the Gods. Different nations however, participate differently of these, as for instance the Egyptians according to their native tongue, receiving names of this kind from the Gods; but the Chaldeans and Indians in a different manner, according to their proper tongue; and in a similar manner the Greeks according to their dialect. Though a certain divinity therefore may be called by the Greeks Briareus, but differently by the Chaldeans, we must nevertheless admit that each of these names is the progeny of the Gods, and that it signifies the same essence. But if some names are more and others less efficacious, it is not wonderful; since of things which are known to us, such as are dæmoniacal and angelic are more efficacious; and in short of things denominated the names of such as are nearer are more perfect than the names of those that are more remote.

Not every genus of the Gods however, can be denominated. For Parmenides evinces that the God who is beyond all things is ineffable. “For, says he, he can neither be denominated, nor spoken of.” And of the intelligible Gods the first genera, which are conjoined with _the one itself_, and are called occult, have much of the unknown and ineffable. For that which is perfectly apparent and effable, cannot be conjoined with the perfectly ineffable, but it is requisite that the progression of intelligibles, should be terminated in this order; in which there is the first effable,[397] and that which is called by proper names. For the first forms are there, and the intellectual nature of intelligibles there shines forth to the view. But all the natures prior to this being silent and occult, are only known by intelligence.[398] Hence the whole of the telestic art 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 orders. But he thus speaks,

μητιν σπερμα φεροντα θεων, κλυτον οντε φανητα,
πρωτογονον μακαρες καλεον κατα μακρον Ολυμπον.

i.e., “Metis bearing the seed of the Gods, whom the Gods about lofty Olympus call the illustrious Phanes Protogonus.” In the Gods however nomination is united with intellectual conception, and both are present with them through the participation of the light which the mighty Phanes emits to all things. But in our soul these two are divided from each other; and intellectual conception is one thing, and name another: and the one has the order of an image, but the other of a paradigm. In the middle genera there is indeed a separation, but there is also a union of the intellective and onomastic energy. The transportive name (διαπορθμιον ονομα) of _Iynxes_[399] (ιγγυων) which is said to sustain all the fountains, appears to me to signify a thing of this kind. Such also is the appellation _teletarchic_ (το τελεταρχικον) which some one of the Gods[400] says, “leaps into the worlds, through the rapid reproof of the father.” κοσμοις ενθρωσκειν κραιπνην δια πατρος ενιπην. For all these things are occultly with the Gods, but are unfolded according to second and third progressions, and to men that are allied to the Gods.

There is therefore a certain abiding name in the Gods, through which the subordinate invoke the superior, as Orpheus says of Phanes, or through which the superior denominate the subordinate, as Jupiter in Plato gives names to the unapparent periods of souls.[401] For fathers define the energies of their offspring, and the offspring know their producing causes through the intellectual impressions which they bear. Such then are the first names which are unfolded from the Gods and which through the middle genera end in the rational essence.

There are however other names of a second and third rank; and these are such as partial souls have produced, at one time energizing enthusiastically about the Gods, and at another time energizing according to science; either conjoining their own intelligence with divine light, and thence deriving perfection; or committing the fabrication of names to the rational power. For thus artists, such as geometricians, physicians and rhetoricians give names to the things the peculiarities of which they understand. Thus too poets inspired by Phœbus (των ποιητων οι φοιβοληπτοι) ascribe many names to the Gods, and to human names give a division opposite to these; receiving the former from enthusiastic energy and the latter from sense and opinion; concerning which Socrates now says Homer indicates, referring some names to the Gods and others to men.

P. 138. _So that language when conversant with that which is ineffable, being subverted about itself, has no cessation and opposes itself._ Damascius likewise, in a wonderfully sublime manner speaks of the immense principle of the universe, conformably to what is now said by Proclus, in his excellent MS treatise περι αρχων, or “concerning principles;” and the following is an epitome of what he says on this subject.

“Our soul prophesies that the principle which is beyond all things that can in any respect be conceived, is unco-ordinated with all things. Neither therefore, must it be called principle, nor cause, nor that which is first, nor prior to all things, nor beyond all things. By no means therefore, must we celebrate it as all things, nor in short, is it to be celebrated, nor recalled into memory. For whatever we conceive or consider, is either something belonging to all things, or is all things, though analyzing we should ascend to that which is most simple, and which is the most comprehensive of all things, being as it were, the ultimate circumference, not of beings, but of non-beings. For of beings, that which has an united subsistence, and is perfectly without separation, is the extremity, since every being is mingled from elements which are either bound and infinity, or the progeny of these. But _the one_ is simply the last boundary of _the many_. For we cannot conceive any thing more simple than that which is perfectly one; which if we denominate the principle and cause, the first, and the most simple, these and all other things are there only according to _the one_. But we not being able to contract our conceptions into profound union, are divided about it, and predicate of _the one_ the distributed multitude which is in ourselves; unless we despise these appellations also, because _the many_ cannot be adapted to _the one_. Hence it can neither be known nor named; for, if it could, it would in this respect be _many_. Or, these things also will be contained in it, according to _the one_. For the nature of _the one_ is all-receptive, or rather all-producing, and there is not any thing whatever which _the one_ is not. Hence all things are as it were evolved from it. It is therefore, properly cause, and the first, the end and the last, the defensive enclosure of all things, and the one nature of all things; not that nature which is in things, and which proceeds from _the one_, but that which is prior to them, which is the most impartible summit of all things whatever, and the greatest comprehension of all things which in any respect are said to have a being.

But if _the one_ is the cause of all things, and is comprehensive of all things, what ascent will there be for us beyond this also? For we do not strive in vain, extending ourselves to that which is nothing. For that which is not even _one_, _is_ not according to the most just mode of speaking. Whence then do we conceive that there is something beyond _the one_? For _the many_ require nothing else than _the one_. And hence _the one_ alone is the cause of the _many_. Hence also _the one_ is entirely cause, because it is necessary that the cause of _the many_ should alone be _the one_. For it cannot be nothing; since nothing is the cause of nothing. Nor can it be _the many_: for so far as many they are unco-ordinated; and _the many_ will not be one cause. But if there are many causes, they will not be the causes of each other, through being unco-ordinated, and through a progression in a circle, the same things being causes and the things caused. Each therefore, will be the cause of itself, and thus there will be no cause of the many. Hence it is necessary that _the one_ should be the cause of _the many_, and which is also the cause of their co-ordination for there is a certain conspiring co-ordination, and a union with each other.

If, therefore, some one thus doubting should say that _the one_ is a sufficient principle, and should add as the summit that we have not any conception or suspicion more simple than that of _the one_, and should therefore ask how we can suspect any thing beyond the last suspicion and conception we are able to frame;--if some one should thus speak, we must pardon the doubt. For a speculation of this kind is it seems inaccessible and immense: at the same time however, from things more known to us we must extend the ineffable parturitions of our soul, to the ineffable co-sensation of this sublime truth. For as that which subsists without is in every respect more honourable than that which subsists with habitude, and the unco-ordinated than the co-ordinated, as the theoretic than the political life, and Saturn for instance than Jupiter, being than forms, and _the one_ than _the many_ of which _the one_ is the principle; so in short, that which transcends every thing of this kind is more honourable than all causes and principles, and is not to be considered as subsisting in any co-arrangement and habitude; since _the one_ is naturally prior to _the many_, that which is most simple to things more composite, and that which is most comprehensive to the things which it comprehends. So that if you are willing thus to speak, _the first_ is beyond all such opposition, not only that which is in things co-ordinate, but even that which takes place from its subsistence as the first. _The one_ therefore, and the united are posterior to the first: for these causally contain multitude as numerous[402] as that which is unfolded from them. _The one_ however, is no less one, if indeed it is not more so, because separate multitude is posterior to and not in it; and the united is no less united because it contracted in one things separated prior to separation. Each of these therefore, is all things, whether according to co-ordination, or according to their own nature. But all things cannot be things first, nor the principle. Nor yet one of them alone, because this one will be at the same time all things, according to _the one_: but we shall not yet have discovered that which is beyond all things. To which we may also add, that _the one_ is the summit of _the many_, as the cause of the things proceeding from it. We may likewise say that we form a conception of _the one_ according to a purified suspicion extended to that which is most simple and most comprehensive. But that which is most venerable, must necessarily be incomprehensible by all conceptions and suspicions; since also in other things, that which always soars beyond our conceptions is more honourable than that which is more obvious: so that what flies from all our suspicions will be most honourable. But if this be the case it is _nothing_. Let however nothing be twofold, one better than _the one_, the other posterior to sensibles. If also, we strive in vain in asserting these things, striving in vain is likewise twofold; the one falling into the ineffable, the other into that which in no respect whatever has any subsistence. For _this_ also is ineffable, as Plato says, but according to the worse, but _that_ according to the better. If too, we search for a certain advantage arising from it, this is the most necessary advantage of all others, that all things thence proceed as from an adytum, from the ineffable, and in an ineffable manner. For neither do they proceed as _the one_ produces _the many_, nor as _the united_ things _separated_, but as the ineffable similarly produces all things, ineffably. But if in asserting these things concerning it, that it is no one of all things, that it is incomprehensible, we subvert what we say, it is proper to know that these are the names and words of our parturitions, daring anxiously to explore it, and which standing in the vestibules of the adytum, announce indeed nothing pertaining to the ineffable, but signify the manner in which we are affected about it, our doubts and disappointment; nor yet this clearly, but through indications to such as are able to understand these investigations. We also see that our parturitions suffer these things about _the one_, and that in a similar manner they are solicitous and subverted. For _the one_, says Plato, if it _is_, is not _the one_. But if it is not, no assertion can be adapted to it: so that neither can there be a negation of it, nor can any name be given to it; for neither is a name simple. Nor is there any opinion nor science of it; for neither are these simple. So that _the one_ is in every respect unknown and ineffable.

What then? Shall we investigate something else beyond the ineffable? Or, perhaps indeed, Plato leads us ineffably through _the one_ as a medium, to the ineffable beyond _the one_, which is now the subject of discussion; and this by an ablation of _the one_, in the same manner as he leads us to _the one_ by an ablation of other things. For, that he gives to _the one_ a certain position is evident from his Sophista, where he demonstrates that it subsists prior to being, itself by itself. But if, having ascended as far as to _the one_, he is silent, this also is becoming in Plato to be perfectly silent, after the manner of the ancients concerning things in every respect unspeakable; for the discourse was indeed most dangerous, in consequence of falling on idiotical ears. Indeed, when discoursing concerning that which in no respect has any subsistence, he subverts his assertions, and is fearful of falling into the sea of dissimilitude, or, rather of unsubsisting void. But if demonstrations do not accord with _the one_, it is by no means wonderful; for they are human and divisible, and more composite than is fit. Indeed, they are not even adapted to being, since they are formal, or rather, they are neither adapted to forms nor essences. Or, is it not Plato himself, who in his Epistles[403] evinces that we have nothing which is significant of form, no type nor name, nor discourse, nor opinion, nor science? For it is intellect alone which can apprehend ideas by its projecting energies, which we cannot possess while busily engaged in discourse. If there fore we even energize intellectually, since in this case our intellection is characterized by form, we shall not accord with _the united_ and with being. And if at any time we are able to project a contracted intelligence, even this is unadapted and discordant with _the one_. If, also, we energize according to the most profoundly united intelligence, and through this occultly perceive _the one itself_, yet even this is expanded only as far as to _the one_, if there is a knowledge of _the one_; for this we have not yet determined. At the same time however, let us now apply ourselves to the discussion of things of such great importance, through indications and suspicions, being purified with respect to unusual conceptions, and led through analogies and negations, despising what we possess with respect to these, and advancing from things more ignoble with us to things more honorable.

Shall we therefore say, that the nature which we now investigate as the first, is so perfectly ineffable, that it must not even be admitted concerning it that it is thus ineffable; but that _the one_ is ineffable, as flying from all composition of words and names, and all distinction of that which is known from that which knows, and is to be apprehended in a manner the most simple and comprehensive, and that it is not one alone as the characteristic of one, but as _one all things_, and _one prior to all things_, and not one which is something belonging to all things? These indeed, are the parturitions of the soul, and are thus purified with respect to _the simply one_, and that which is truly the one cause of all things. But, in short, we thus form a conception of _the one_ which we contain as the summit or flower of our essence, as being more proximate and allied to us, and more prompt to such a suspicion of that which nearly leaves all things behind it. But from some particular thing which is made the subject of hypothesis, the transition is easy to that which is simply supposed, though we should in no respect accede to it, but being carried in that which is most simple in us, should form a suspicion concerning that which is prior to all things. _The one_ therefore, is thus effable, and thus ineffable, but that which is beyond it is to be honoured in the most perfect silence, and prior to this, by the most perfect ignorance[404] which despises all knowledge.

Let us therefore, now consider, in the second place, how it is said to be perfectly unknown. For if this be true, how do we assert all these things concerning it? For we do not elucidate by much discussion about things of which we are ignorant. But if it is in reality unco-ordinated with all things, and without habitude to all things, and is nothing of all things, nor even _the one itself_, these very things are the nature of it. Besides, with respect to its being unknown, we either know that it is unknown, or we are ignorant of this. But if the latter, how do we say that it is perfectly unknown? And if we know this, in this respect therefore it is known. Or shall we say that it is known, that the unknown is unknown? We cannot therefore deny one thing of another, not knowing that which is the subject of the negation; nor can we say that it is not this or that, when we can in no respect reach it. How therefore can we deny of that of which we are perfectly ignorant the things which we know? For this is just as if some one who was blind from his birth should assert that heat is not in colour. Or perhaps indeed, he also will justly say, that colour is not hot. For he knows this by the touch; but he knows nothing of colour, except that it is not tangible; for he knows that he does not know it. Such a knowledge indeed, is not a knowledge of colour, but of his own ignorance. And we also when we say that the first is unknown, do not announce any thing of it, but we confess the manner in which we are affected about it. For the non-perception of the blind man is not in the colour, nor yet his blindness, but in him. The ignorance therefore of that of which we are ignorant is in us. For the knowledge of that which is known, is in him that knows, and not in the thing known. But if knowledge is in that which is known being as it were the splendour of it, so some one should say ignorance is in that which is unknown, being as it were the darkness of it, or obscurity, according to which it is unknown by, and is unapparent to all things,--he who says this is ignorant, that as blindness is a privation, so likewise all ignorance, and that as is the invisible, so that of which we are ignorant, and which is unknown. In other things therefore, the privation of this or that leaves something else. For that which is incorporeal, though invisible, yet is intelligible; and that which is not intelligible by a certain intelligence, leaves at the same time something else. But if we take away every conception and suspicion, this also we must say is perfectly unknown by us, about which we close every eye. Nor must we assert any thing of it, as we do of the intelligible, that it is not adapted to be seen by the eyes, or as we do of _the one_, that it is not naturally adapted to be understood by an essential and abundant intellection: for it imparts nothing by which it can be apprehended, nothing which can lead to a suspicion of its nature. For neither do we only say that it is unknown, that being something else it may naturally possess the unknown, but we do not think fit to predicate of it either _being_, or _the one_, or _all things_, or _the principle of all things_, or in short, _any thing_. Neither therefore, are these things the nature of it, viz. _the nothing, the being beyond all things, supercausal subsistence, and the unco-ordinated with all things_; but these are only ablations of things posterior to it. How, therefore, do we speak concerning it? Shall we say, that knowing these posterior things, we despise them with respect to the position, if I may so speak, of that which is in every respect ineffable? For as that which is beyond some particular knowledge is better than that which is apprehended by such knowledge, so that which is beyond all suspicion must necessarily be most venerable; not that it is known to be so, but possessing the most venerable as in us, and as the consequence of the manner in which we are affected about it. We also call this a prodigy, from its being entirely incomprehensible by our conceptions: for it is through analogy, if that which in a certain respect is unknown, according to a more excellent subsistence, is superior to that which is in every respect known. Hence that which is in every respect unknown according to a more excellent subsistence, must necessarily be acknowledged to be supreme, though it indeed has neither the supreme, nor the most excellent, nor the most venerable: for these things are our confessions about that, which entirely flies from all our conceptions and suspicions. For by this very assertion, that we can form no suspicion of it, we acknowledge that it is most wonderful; since if we should suspect any thing concerning it, we must also investigate something else prior to this suspicion, and either proceed to infinity in our search, or stop at that which is perfectly ineffable. Can we therefore, demonstrate any thing concerning it? And is that demonstrable which we do not think fit to consider as a thing whose subsistence we can even suspect? Or, when we assert these things, do we not indeed demonstrate _concerning_ it, but not _it_? For neither does it contain the demonstrable, nor any thing else. What then? Do we not opine concerning it these things which we now assert? But if there is an opinion of it, it is also the object of opinion. Or shall we say we opine that it is not these things? For Aristotle also says that there is true opinion. If therefore, the opinion is true, the thing likewise is to which opinion being adapted becomes true. For, in consequence of the thing subsisting, the opinion also is true. Though indeed, how will that be true which is perfectly unknown? Or shall we say this is true, that it is not these things, and that it is not known? Is it therefore truly false, that it is these things, and that it is known? Or shall we say that these things are to be referred to privations, and to that which in a certain respect is not, in which there may be a falling from the hypostasis of form? Just as we call the absence of light darkness. For, light not existing, neither is there any darkness. But to that which is never and in no respect being, nothing among beings can, as Plato says, accede. Neither, therefore, is it non-being, nor, in short, privation; and even the expression _never in no respect_ (το μηδαμη μηδαμως) is incapable of signifying its nature. For this expression is being, and _signification_ is something belonging to beings. Likewise, though we should opine that it is not in any respect, yet at the same time, since it thus becomes the object of opinion, it belongs to beings. Hence, Plato very properly calls that which never and in no respect is, ineffable and incapable of being opined, and this according to the worse than the effable and opinion, in the same manner as we say the supreme is according to that which is better than these. What then, do we not think, and are we not persuaded that the supreme thus subsists? Or, as we have often said, do not these things express the manner in which we are affected about it? But we possess in ourselves this opinion, which is therefore empty, as is the opinion of a vacuum, and the infinite. As therefore, we form a phantastic and fictitious opinion of these though they are not, as if they were, just as we opine the sun to be no larger than a sphere whose diameter is but a foot, though this is far from being the case;--so if we opine any thing concerning that which never and in no respect is, or concerning that of which we write these things, the opinion is our own, and the vain attempt is in us, in apprehending which we think that we apprehend the supreme. It is, however, nothing pertaining to us, so much does it transcend our conceptions. How therefore, do we demonstrate that there is such an ignorance in us concerning it? And how do we say that it is unknown? We reply in one word, because we always find that what is above knowledge is more honourable; so that what is above all knowledge, if it were to be found, would be found to be most honourable. But it is sufficient to the demonstration that it cannot be found. We also say that it is above all things; because if it were any thing known, it would rank among all things; and there would be something common to it with all things, viz. the being known. But there is one co-ordination of things in which there is something common; so that in consequence of this, it will subsist together with all things. Hence it is necessary that it should be unknown.

In the third place, the unknown is inherent in beings as well as the known, though they are relatively inherent at the same time. As, therefore, we say that the same thing is relatively large and small, so likewise we say, that a thing is known and unknown with reference to different things. And as the same thing, by participating of the two forms, the great and the small, is at the same time both great and small, so that which at the same time participates of the known and the unknown is both these. Thus, the intelligible is unknown to sense, but is known to intellect. For the more excellent will not be privation, the inferior at the same time being form; since every absence, and a privation of this kind, is either in matter, or in soul; but all things are present in intellect, and still more in a certain respect in the intelligible. Unless indeed, we denominate privation according to a more excellent subsistence, as we say that is not form which is above form; and that is not being which is superessential; and that is nothing which is truly unknown, according to a transcendency which surpasses all things. If, therefore, _the one_ is the last known of things which are in any respect whatever known or suspected, that which is beyond _the one_ is primarily and perfectly unknown; which also is so unknown, that neither has it an unknown nature, nor can we accede to it as to the unknown, but it is even unknown to us whether it is unknown. For there is an all-perfect ignorance about it, nor can we know it, neither as known nor unknown. Hence, we are on all sides subverted, in consequence of not being able to reach it in any respect, because it is not even one thing, or rather, it is not that which is not even one thing. Hence it is that which in no respect whatever has any subsistence; or it is even beyond this, since this is a negation of being, and that which is not even one thing is a negation of _the one_. But that which is not one thing, or in other words, that which is nothing, is a void, and a falling from all things. We do not however thus conceive concerning the ineffable. Or shall we say that _nothing_ is twofold, the one being beyond, and the other below, all things? For _the one_ also is twofold, _this_ being the extreme, as _the one_ of matter, and _that_ the first, as that which is more ancient than being. So that with respect to _nothing_ also, _this_ will be as that which is not even the last one, but _that_ as neither being the first one. In this way therefore, that which is unknown and ineffable is twofold, _this_, as not even possessing the last suspicion of subsistence, and _that_, as not even being the first of things. Must we therefore, consider it as that which is unknown to us? Or this indeed is nothing paradoxical: for it will be unknown even to much-honoured intellect, if it be lawful so to speak. For every intellect looks to the intelligible; and the intelligible is either _form_ or _being_. But may not divine knowledge know it; and may it not be known to this superessentially? This knowledge, however, applies itself to _the one_, but that which we are now investigating is beyond _the one_. In short, if it also is known, in conjunction with others, it will also be something belonging to all things; for it will be common to it with others to be known, and thus far it will be co-ordinated with others. Further still, if it is known, divine knowledge will comprehend it. It will therefore define it. Every boundary however, ascends ultimately as far as to _the one_; but _that_ is beyond _the one_. It is therefore perfectly incomprehensible and invisible, and consequently is not to be apprehended by any kind of knowledge. To which we may add, that knowledge is of things which may be known as beings, or as having a subsistence, or as participating of _the one_. But this is beyond all these. Further still, _the one_ also appears to be unknown, if it is necessary that what is known should be one thing, and that which knows another, though both should be in the same thing. So that _the truly one_ will not know itself: for it does not possess a certain duplicity. There will not therefore be in it that which knows, and that which is known. Hence, neither will a God, considered according to _the one itself_ alone, and as being conjoined with _the one_, be united with that which is simple, according to duplicity. For how can the double be conjoined with the simple? But if he knows _the one_ by _the one_, that which knows, and also that which is known will be _one_, and in each the nature of _the one_ will be shown, subsisting alone, and being _one_. So that he will not be conjoined as different with that which is different, or as that which is gnostic with that which is known, since this very thing is one alone; so that neither will he be conjoined according to knowledge. Much more therefore, is that which is not even _the one_ unknown. But if _the one_ is the last thing known, we know nothing of that which is beyond _the one_; so that the present rhapsody is vain. Or shall we say we know that these things are unworthy to be asserted, if it be lawful so to speak, of the first hypothesis [in the Parmenides of Plato,] since, not yet knowing even intelligible forms, we despise the images which subsist in us of their eternal and impartible nature; since these images are partible, and multifariously mutable. Again, being ignorant of the contracted subsistence of intelligible species and genera, but possessing an image of this, which is a contraction of the genera and species in us, we suspect that being itself resembles this contraction, but is at the same time something more excellent; and this must be especially the case with that which has an united subsistence. But now we are ignorant of _the one_, not contracting, but expanding all things to it; and in us simplicity itself consists, with relation to the all which we contain, but is very far from coming into contact with the all-perfect nature of _the one_. For _the one and the simple_ in our nature, are in the smallest degree that which they are said to be, except that they are a sign or indication of the nature which is there. Thus also assuming in intellect every thing which can be in any respect known or suspected, we think fit to ascribe it as far as to _the one_; if it be requisite to speak of things unspeakable, and to conceive things which are inconceivable. At the same time also, we think fit to make that the subject of hypothesis, which cannot be compared, and is unco-ordinated with all things, and which is so exempt that neither in reality does it possess the exempt. For that which is exempt is always exempt from something, and is not in every respect exempt, as possessing habitude to that from which it is exempt, and in short, preceding in a certain co-ordination. If, therefore, we intend to make that which is truly exempt the subject of hypothesis, we must not even suppose it to be exempt. For, accurately speaking, its proper name will not be verified when ascribed to _the exempt_; since in this case it would at the same time be co-ordinated; so that it is necessary even to deny this of it. Likewise, negation is a certain sentence, and that which is denied is a certain thing: but that of which we are now endeavouring to speak is not any thing. Neither therefore, can it be denied, nor spoken of, nor be in any way known: so that neither is it possible to deny the negation; but that which appears to us to be a demonstration of what we say, is a perfect subversion of language and conception. What end therefore, will there be of the discourse, except the most profound silence, and an acknowledgement that we know nothing of that which it is not lawful, since impossible, to lead into knowledge?”

In another part, near the beginning of the same admirable work, he remarks that _the one_ in every thing is the more true thing itself. “Thus for instance, _the one_ of man [or the summit and flower of his nature,] is the more true man, that of soul is the more true soul, and that of body the more true body. Thus also _the one_ of the sun, and _the one_ of the moon, are the more true sun and moon.” After which he observes as follows: “Neither _the one_, nor _all things_ accords with the nature of _the one_. For these are opposed to each other, and distribute our conceptions. For, if we look to the simple and _the one_, we destroy its immensely great perfection; and if we conceive all things subsisting together, we abolish _the one_ and _the simple_. But this is because we are divided, and look to divided peculiarities. At the same time however, aspiring after the knowledge of it, we connect all things together, that we may thus be able to apprehend this mighty nature. But fearing the introduction of all multitudes, or contracting the peculiar nature of _the one_, and rejoycing in that which is simple and the first in speaking of the most ancient principle, we thus introduce _the one itself_ as a symbol of simplicity; since we likewise introduce _all things_ as a symbol of the comprehension of all things. But that which is above or prior to both we can neither conceive nor denominate. And why is it wonderful that we should suffer these things about it, since the distinct knowledge of it is unical, which we cannot perceive? Other things too of this kind we suffer about _being_. For endeavouring to perceive _being_, we dismiss it, but run round the elements of it, bound and infinity. But if we form a more true conception of it, that it is an united plenitude of all things, in this case the conception of _all things_ draws us down to multitude, and the conception of _the united_ abolishes that of all things. Neither however is this yet wonderful. For with respect to forms also, when we wish to survey any one of these, we run round the elements of it, and, striving to perceive its unity, we obliterate its elements. At the same time however, every form is one and many; not indeed partly one, and partly many, but the whole of it is through the whole a thing of this kind. Not being able, therefore, to apprehend this collectively, we rejoice in acceding to it with a distribution of our conceptions. But always adhering in our ascent, like those who climb clinging with their hands and feet, to things which extend us to a more impartible nature, we obtain in a certain respect a co-sensation in the distribution of that which is uniform. We despise therefore this, with respect to the collected apprehension of it, which we cannot obtain, unless a certain vestige of collected intelligence in our nature is agitated. And this is the light of truth, which is suddenly enkindled, as if from the collision of fire stones. For our greatest conceptions, when exercised with each other, verge to a uniform and simple summit as their end, like the extremities of lines in a circle hastening to the centre. And though even thus they subsist indeed with distribution, yet a certain vestige of the knowledge of form which we contain is pre-excited; just as the equal tendency of all the lines in a circle to terminate in the middle affords a certain obscure representation of the centre. After the same manner also we ascend to being, in the first place, by understanding every form which falls upon us as distributed, not only as impartible, but also as united, and this by confounding, if it be proper so to speak, the multitude in each. In the next place, we must collect every thing separated together, and take away the circumscriptions, just as if making many streams of water to be one collection of water, except that we must not understand that which is united from all things, as one collection of water, but we must conceive that which is prior to all things, as the form of water prior to divided streams of water. Thus therefore, we must expand ourselves to _the one_, first collecting and afterwards dismissing what we have collected, for the super-expanded transcendency of _the one_. Ascending therefore, shall we meet with it as that which is known? Or, wishing to meet with it as such shall we arrive at the unknown? Or may we not say that each of these is true? For we meet with it afar off as that which is known, and when we are united to it from afar, passing beyond that in our nature which is gnostic of _the one_, then are we brought to be one, that is, to be unknown instead of being gnostic. This contact therefore, as of one with one, is above knowledge, but the other is as of that which is gnostic with that which is known. As however, the crooked is known by the straight, so we form a conjecture of the unknown by the known. And this indeed is a mode of knowledge. _The one_ therefore, is so far known, that it does not admit of an approximating knowledge, but appears afar off as known, and imparts a gnostic indication of itself. Unlike other things however, the nearer we approach to it, it is not the more, but on the contrary, less known; knowledge being dissolved by _the one_ into ignorance, since as we have before observed, where there is knowledge, there also is separation. But separation approaching to _the one_ is inclosed in union; so that knowledge also is refunded into ignorance. Thus too, the analogy of Plato requires. For first we endeavour to see the sun, and we do indeed see it afar off; but by how much the nearer we approach to it, by so much the less do we see it; and at length we neither see other things, nor it, the eye becoming spontaneously dazzled by its light. Is therefore _the one_ in its proper nature unknown, though there is something else unknown besides _the one_? _The one_ indeed wills to be by itself, but with no other; but the unknown beyond _the one_ is perfectly ineffable, which we acknowledge we neither know, nor are ignorant of, but which has about itself super-ignorance. Hence by proximity to this _the one itself_ is darkened: for being very near to the immense principle, if it be lawful so to speak, it remains as it were in the adytum of that truly mystic silence. On this account, Plato in speaking of it finds all his assertions subverted: for it is near to the subversion of every thing, which takes place about the first. It differs from it however in this, that it is _one_ simply, and that according to _the one_ it is also at the same time all things. But the first is above _the one_ and _all things_, being more simple than either of these.”

P. 113. _Origen who was a partaker of the same erudition with Plotinus._ This Origen was not the Christian father of that name, but was somewhat junior to him.

P. 190. _And Plotinus, exhibiting in a most divinely inspired manner, the peculiarity of eternity, according to the theology of Plato, defines it to be infinite life, at once unfolding into light the whole of itself, and its own being._ The 7th book of the 3rd Ennead of Plotinus is concerning Eternity, and the following beautiful extract from it contains the definition of eternity alluded to by Proclus.

“Perhaps we ought to conceive of eternity, as a certain one collected from many; viz. either as one intelligence or one nature, whether consequent to things in the intelligible world, or existing together with it, or beheld as situated in the depths of its essence. All these, I say, reduced into eternity as one, which is also many, and is endued with a various capacity. Indeed, he who beholds a various capacity, when he considers it as a subject denominates its essence; but so far as he perceives life, he denominates its motion; and afterwards permanency, considered as abiding in a manner entirely the same. He will likewise behold difference and sameness, so far us they are many, bound in one. So that he who contracts the difference, subsisting in things which are many, into one life alone, and contemplates an unceasing sameness of energy, never passing its intelligence or life, from one thing into another, but ever abiding in the same manner in itself far remote from all interval; he I say, who beholds all these, contemplates eternity, viewing life ever possessing a present whole, where all things abide together in sameness, without the order of first and last, and are comprehended in an indivisible bound. Where all things are collected into one, as into a point, not yet proceeding into a linear flux, but abiding in sameness, that is, in itself, in an ever present _now_; because nothing of its nature is past, nothing in it is future; but what it is, it always is. Hence eternity is not a subject, but that which beams as it were from its subject, according to the possession of an ever present identity; promising itself that its ever abiding nature, will never be changed. For what should happen to this in future which it is not at present? Since it is a perfect and present plenitude of all things. Nor can the term was, the appellation of time past, belong to eternity. For what can that be, which _was_ present with its nature, and is _past_? It is in like manner independent of all connection with futurity. And hence eternity is that which neither _was_ nor _will be_, but alone _is_, which it possesses in a stable manner; because it is neither changed into a future, nor altered from a past duration. So that the eternity which we are now investigating, is life total and full, abiding in its essence about being itself; and is every where without interval and one.

Hence, eternity is something especially venerable, and a God, as inherent intelligence affirms. But intelligence likewise dictates, that eternity is the same with that God whom we denominate being and life. And it may with the greatest propriety be said, that eternity is a deity shining and unfolding himself in intelligible light, such as he is in his essence; in an essence, I say, perfectly unchangeable and the same, and thus firmly abiding in an unceasing energy of life. Nor ought any one to wonder that we speak of eternity, as consisting of many things. For every thing which abides in the intelligible world, is called many, on account of its infinite power; since infinite there receives its denomination, because it never falls off from the consummate intellectual plenitude of its nature. And indeed, it is particularly called after this manner, because it loses nothing of its own. And if any one should describe eternity, as life already infinite because universal, and because it never deserts the integrity of its nature; (since it cannot be diminished by the past, nor increased by the future, because it is a perfect whole)----if any one should thus describe eternity, he will approach very near to its true definition. For what is afterwards added, that it is a perfect whole, and loses nothing of its integrity, is only a certain exposition of the definition which affirms it to be infinite life. But because a nature of this kind, thus all-beautiful and eternal, abides about _the one itself_, emanating and in no respect departing from it, but ever abiding about and in it, and living with it in indissoluble union; hence it is said by Plato, not rashly, but in a manner truly beautiful and profound, that _eternity abides in one_. So that he not only reduces that which eternity contains into one; but the life of being in like manner reduces itself, about _the one itself_. This then is what we investigate, and that is eternity, which thus abides. For that which is the energy of life abiding from itself, and residing in the depths of unity, without any deception, either in essence or life, is without all controversy eternity. Since _truly to be_, is _never not to be_, and to possess no diversity of being. But when in discoursing on eternity, we use the term _ever_; and also when we say it is not sometimes being, and sometimes non-being, we must consider these appellations as adopted only for the purpose of explanation. For the term ever is not perhaps principally assumed, but is employed, in order to show an incorruptible and never-failing nature.”

P. 215. _Let us in the next place speak in common about all the intelligible triads, &c._ For the further information of the reader on this most profound subject the intelligible triad, the following observations are added, being an extract from the Introduction to my translation of the Parmenides of Plato.