CHAPTER III.
See, therefore, the third argument after these, leading us to the same conclusion with the former arguments. For it is necessary that the cause of all beings should be that of which all beings participate, to which they refer the subsistence of themselves, and which separates itself from nothing that in any respect whatever is said to have an existence. For this alone is the object of desire to beings, which primarily, or in some other way, is itself the cause of their subsistence. And it is necessary that every thing which is produced with reference to, and on account of it, should have a certain habitude with relation to it, and through this also, a similitude to it. For every habitude of one thing towards another, is predicated in a twofold respect, either from both participating of one thing, which affords to the participants a communion with each other; or from one of them participating of the other; of which, indeed, the one as being more excellent, imparts something to that which is subordinate to itself; but the other, as being inferior, is assimilated to the more excellent nature, so far as it participates of it. Hence it is necessary, if all sensible natures possess a habitude to that which is first, aspire after, and subsist about it, either that there should be a certain third thing the cause of the habitude, or that the principle should impart to the natures posterior to itself, a tendency to itself, and that desire, through which every thing is preserved, and exists. Nothing else, however, is more excellent than that which is first. Hence, the habitude of beings, their existence, and their tendency to the first, are derived from thence. And all things participate of the principle of themselves, if it is necessary that this which is participated, should from thence become apparent in all beings, since it is the principle of all things, and deserts no being whatever. What, therefore, will this nature be, which is every where, and in all beings? Is it life and motion? But there are indeed many things which are deprived of these. Is, therefore, permanency every where, and in all things? But neither is this true. For motion, so far as it is motion, will not participate of permanency. Is much-honoured intellect, therefore, so far as it is intellect, participated by all beings? But this also is impossible. For all beings would have intellectual perception, and no being would be deprived of intellect.
Shall we say, therefore, that being itself and essence are participated by all things that in any respect whatever have a subsistence? But how is this possible? For that which is in generation, or passing into existence, is said to be, and is destitute of essence. Nor must we wonder, if it also, since it ranks among beings, should now participate of essence. For so far as it is in generation, it is not; but it ends in existence and essence when it is now actually generated, and is no longer rising into existence. All things, therefore, that have in any respect whatever a subsistence, do not participate of essence. What then will that be which is every where and by all things participated? Let us consider every being, and see what that is to which all beings are passive, and what it is which is common in all of them, as in essence, sameness, difference, permanency, and motion. Can we say, therefore, that each of these is any thing else than one thing, and not only separately, but this is also the case with the things which subsist from them; and in short, it is not possible in a certain respect to speak otherwise of all things, than this, that all things, and each thing is one. For if any thing should be deprived of the one, though you should speak of parts, or of beings, immediately, that which becomes destitute of the one, will be altogether nothing. Or with what intention do we say that a thing which is not is perfectly nothing, [or not even one thing] unless the one is the last thing which deserts beings? This it is, therefore, to become that which in no respect is, and to be perfectly deprived of the one. For it is possible for that which is not moved to be, and for that which has no being to have an hyparxis; but that which is not even one thing, and which is destitute of the one itself, will be entirely nothing. Hence the one is present with all beings; and though you should speak of multitude itself, it is necessary that this also should participate of the one; for if it does not become one thing, it is not possible for it to subsist. And if even you divide the whole to infinity, immediately nothing else than one occurs. For either that which is divided does not subsist, or becoming to be, or subsisting something else, it will be immediately one.[142] The one, therefore, which is every where apparent, and is in all beings, and which deserts no being whatever, is either derived from the one which is simply one, or from that which is more excellent than the one. For it is not possible for the one to be otherwise passive, [i.e. to be consubsistent with something else] than from the first one, to which the one is no longer present, but which is the one itself, or nothing else than one.
Again, therefore, from another principle we may arrive at the same conclusion, by speaking as follows: It is necessary either that the causes of beings and things caused should proceed to infinity, and that there should be nothing first or last in beings; or that there should be no first, but that there should be the last of things, infinity existing in one part only. Or on the contrary, it is necessary that beings should proceed to infinity from a definite principle, or that there should be a certain first and last, and a boundary of beings each way. And if there are boundaries of beings, things either proceed from each other, and the generation of beings is in a circle; or if they are not from each other, either one of them is from another, or the first indeed is one, but the last not one, or the contrary, or both are one, or each is not one. If, therefore, first things, and the causes of beings are infinite, each thing will consist of infinites. For that which proceeds from a certain principle, must necessarily participate of that principle from which it proceeds. But that which derives its subsistence from many causes, will be in its own nature multiform, as participating of many powers. And that which is produced from infinites prior to itself, will have infinite peculiarities derived from the principles, and adapted to itself. Every being, therefore, being infinite, and consisting of infinites, will render all things infinitely infinite, and there will neither be a knowledge of any being, nor any evolution of powers. For the power of the infinite is perfectly unknown, and incomprehensible, by those natures to whom it is infinite.
But if things are infinite in a descending progression, whether is each of them infinite always proceeding most downward, in the same manner as we say all things do, or is each whole indeed finite, but the beings which are produced from these are infinite? For if every being according to the beginning of itself is definite, but according to its end is infinite, there will neither be in parts nor in wholes, a conversion of beings to their proper principle, nor will that which is second in order ever have a subsistence so as to be assimilated to the extremity of a preexistent order; though as we frequently say, the summits of inferiors are conjoined with the boundaries of superiors. For where there is no last, by what contrivance can such a similitude of progression as this, and such a mutual coherence of beings be left, according to which secondary things are always conjoined to the natures prior to them? But if all things alone have an infinity of this kind, each being bounded by that which is posterior to itself, wholes will be subordinate to parts, and the parts of beings will be naturally more perfect [than wholes.] For wholes, indeed, will be without conversion to the principle prior to themselves; but parts will be converted to it after their progression. By how much the more, however, every being hastens to conjunction with that which is more perfect than itself, by so much the more must it necessarily excel, as it appears to me. And if this whole proceeding to infinity is not convolved to the summit of itself, and circularly converted and perfected according to such a conversion [it will not desire its proper good.] If, however, we admit that there is an infinity both ways these things must necessarily happen.
In addition to these things, also, there will be no common object of desire to all beings, nor any union nor sympathy of them. For things which are perfectly infinite have not that which is first in them; but not having a first, we shall not be able to say what is the common end of beings, and why some things are more excellent, but others are allotted a subordinate nature. For we call one thing better and another less excellent, from proximity to that which is best, just as we define the more and the less hot from communion with that which is hot in the first degree. And in short, we form a judgment of the more and the less from a reference to that which is a maximum. It is necessary, therefore, that the boundary in beings should be that which is first and that which is last.
But if, indeed, these are from each other, the same thing will be older and younger, cause and at the same time the thing caused, and each thing will be first and last. For it makes no difference, whether these are from each other, or the things which subsist between these. For the extremes being indifferent, how is it possible that a mutation according to essence should intervene? But if the one is from the other, whether is the first derived from the last, as some say, who generate things more excellent from things subordinate, and things more perfect from such as are more imperfect? In this case, however, must not that which is allotted the power of generating and producing the perfect, by a much greater priority perfect and adorn itself by its present power? And how is it possible that leaving itself to be of an inferior allotment it should definitely assign a more excellent order to another thing? For every thing aspires after its proper perfection, and simply desires good; though not every thing is able to participate of a thing of this kind. If, therefore, it has the power of producing this most perfect thing, that which is last will energize on account of itself prior to other things, and the whole of good, and all perfection, will be first established in itself.
But if that which is last is produced from that which is first, and the most imperfect from that which is most perfect, whether, is each of them one, or is this one, but that not one? If, however, that which is first, or that which is last, is not one, neither of them will be first or last. For, as there will be multitude in each, each of them will have the better and the worse; and neither will that which is best be unmingled with that which is inferior to it, nor that which is the most obscure of all things according to being, have so great a subjection entirely deprived of a more perfect nature; but there will be something more extreme than that which is last, and something more perfect than that which is first. For every where, that which is best if it receives another addition through that which is inferior will be more perfect than that which does not abide in the best, [through not receiving this very addition.] If, therefore, we rightly assert these things, the one is the principle of all things, and the last of beings is one. For it is necessary, I think, that the end of the progression of beings should be assimilated to the principle, and that as far as to this, the power of the first should proceed.
Summarily, therefore, recapitulating what we have said, it is necessary either that the first principle should be one, or that there should be alone many[143] first principles, or one containing multitude in itself, or many participating of one. But if there are many first principles only, there will not be one thing from them. For what will make one and a whole, if there are many principles, and there is nothing which produces one? For it is certainly necessary that things posterior to the principles should be assimilated to them. Either, therefore, there will not be the one in any being, or it will not be from these principles; so that each of the things which in any respect whatever have a subsistence will be divided multitude alone. And again each of the parts of any being will be a thing of this kind, and we shall in no way whatever stop, dividing into minute parts essence and existence. For all things will be many, and the one will be no where in the universality of things, nor will either wholes or parts be apparent.
But if it is necessary, indeed, that there should be many principles, and that they should participate of the one, the one will be coordinated in the many. Again, however, it is necessary, that the uncoordinated should every where be more ancient than the coordinated, and the exempt than the participated. For how is the one in each of the many except from one principle which co-arranges the multitude, and converts it to itself according to the communion of the one? Again, if the first one were multiplied, the one will be passive; for at the same time it will be one and not one, and will not be that which is one [only.] It is necessary, however, in each genus of things, that there should be that which is unmingled with an inferior nature, in order that there may be that which is mingled, in the same manner as we say respecting forms. For from the equal itself, things which are equal in these sublunary realms, appear indeed as equal, though they are filled with a contrary nature; and from that which is primarily being, that which is mingled with non-being is derived, and which presents itself to the view as being. And in short every where the simple unmingled subsistence of each thing precedes those things which through remission are mingled with the privations of themselves. The one therefore is by itself exempt from all multitude; and that which is one, and at the same time not one, is not the first one, but is suspended[144] from that which is primarily one; through the principle, indeed, participating of the one, but through the diminution arising from multitude, now manifestly exhibiting in itself the cause of separation.