4. How does manifoldness issue from Unity? Unity is everywhere; for there is no place where it is not; therefore it fills everything. By Him exists manifoldness; or rather, it is by Him that all things exist. If the One were only everywhere, He would simply be all things; but, as, besides, He is nowhere, all things exist by Him, because He is everywhere; but simultaneously all things are distinct from Him, because He is nowhere. Why then is Unity not only everywhere, but also nowhere? The reason is, that Unity must be above all things, He must fill everything, and produce everything, without being all that He produces.
5. The soul's relation to intelligence is the same as that of sight to the visible object; but it is the indeterminate sight which, before seeing, is nevertheless disposed to see and think; that is why the soul bears to intelligence the relation of matter to form.
6. When we think, and think ourselves, we see a thinking nature; otherwise, we would be dupes of an illusion in believing we were thinking. Consequently, if we think ourselves, we are, by thinking ourselves, thinking an intellectual nature. This thought presupposes an anterior thought which implies no movement. Now, as the objects of thought are being and life, there must be, anterior to this being, another being; and anterior to this life, another life. This is well-known to all who are actualized intelligences. If the intelligences be actualizations which consist in thinking themselves, we ourselves are the intelligible by the real foundation of our essence, and the thought that we have of ourselves gives us its image.
7. The First (or One) is the potentiality of movement and of rest; consequently, He is superior to both things. The Second principle relates to the First by its motion and its rest; it is Intelligence, because, differing from the First, it directs its thought towards Him, while the First does not think (because He comprises both the thinking thing, and the thing thought); He thinks himself, and, by that very thing, He is defective, because His good consists in thinking, not in its "hypostasis" (or existence).
8. What passes from potentiality to actuality, and always remains the same so long as it exists, approaches actuality. It is thus that the bodies such as fire may possess perfection. But what passes from potentiality to actuality cannot exist always, because it contains matter. On the contrary, what exists actually, and what is simple, exists always. Besides, what is actual may also in certain respects exist potentially.
9. The divinities which occupy the highest rank are nevertheless not the First; for Intelligence (from which proceed the divinities of the highest rank, that is, the perfect intelligences) is (or, is constituted by) all the intelligible essences, and, consequently, comprises both motion and rest. Nothing like this is in the First. He is related to nothing else, while the other things subsist in Him in their rest, and direct their motion towards Him. Motion is an aspiration, and the First aspires to nothing. Towards what would He, in any case, aspire? He does not think himself; and they who say that He thinks Himself mean by it only that He possesses Himself. But when one says that a thing thinks, it is not because it possesses itself, it is because it contemplates the First; that is the first actuality, thought itself, the first thought, to which none other can be anterior; only, it is inferior to the principle from which it derives its existence, and occupies the second rank after it. Thought is therefore not the most sacred thing; consequently, not all thought is sacred; the only sacred thought is that of the Good, and this (Good) is superior to thought.
Will the Good not be self-conscious? It is claimed by some that the Good would be good only if it possessed self-consciousness. But if it be Goodness, it is goodness before having self-consciousness. If the Good be good only because it has self-consciousness, it was not good before having self-consciousness; but, on the other hand, if there be no goodness, no possible consciousness can therefore exist. (Likewise, someone may ask) does not the First live? He cannot be said to live, because He Himself gives life.
Thus the principle which is self-conscious, which thinks itself (that is, Intelligence), occupies only the second rank. Indeed, if this principle be self-conscious, it is only to unite itself to itself by this act of consciousness; but if it study itself, it is the result of ignoring itself, because its nature is defective, and it becomes perfect only by thought. Thought should therefore not be attributed to the First; for, to attribute something to Him would be to imply that He had been deprived thereof, and needed it.
1. Why do the heavens move in a circle? Because they imitate Intelligence. But to what does this movement belong? To the Soul, or to the body? Does it occur because the Soul is within the celestial sphere, which tends to revolve about her? Is the Soul within this sphere without being touched thereby? Does she cause this sphere to move by her own motion? Perhaps the Soul which moves this sphere should not move it in the future, although she did so in the past; that is, the soul made it remain immovable, instead of ceaselessly imparting to it a circular movement. Perhaps the Soul herself might remain immovable; or, if she move at all, it will at least not be a local movement.
How can the Soul impart to the heavens a local movement, herself possessing a different kind of motion? Perhaps the circular movement, when considered by itself, may not seem a local movement. If then it be a local movement only by accident, what is its own nature, by itself? It is the reflection upon itself, the movement of consciousness, of reflection, of life; it withdraws nothing from the world, it changes the location of nothing, while embracing all. Indeed, the power which governs the universal Animal (or world) embraces everything, and unifies everything. If then it remained immovable, it would not embrace everything either vitally or locally; it would not preserve the life of the interior parts of the body it possesses, because the bodily life implies movement. On the contrary, if it be a local movement, the Soul will possess a movement only such as it admits of. She will move, not only as soul, but as an animated body, and as an animal; her movement will partake both of the movement proper to the soul, and proper to the body. Now the movement proper to the body is to mobilize in a straight line; the movement proper to the Soul, is to contain; while both of these movements result in a third, the circular movement which includes both transportation and permanence.
To the assertion that the circular movement is a corporeal movement, it might be objected that one can see that every body, even fire, moves in a straight line. However, the fire moves in a straight line only till it reaches the place assigned to it by the universal order (it constitutes the heavens, which are its proper place). By virtue of this order its nature is permanent, and it moves towards its assigned location. Why then does the fire as soon as it has arrived there, not abide there quiescently? Because its very nature is constant movement; if it went in a straight line, it would dissipate; consequently, it necessarily possesses a circular motion. That is surely a providential arrangement. Providence placed fire within itself (because it constitutes the heavens, which are its location); so that, as soon as it finds itself in the sky it must spontaneously move in a circle.
We might further say that, if the fire tended to move in a straight line, it must effect a return upon itself in the only place where it is possible (in the heavens), inasmuch as there is no place outside of the world where it could go. In fact there is no further place, beyond the celestial fire, for itself constitutes the last place in the universe; it therefore moves in a circle in the place at its disposal; it is its own place, but not to remain immovable, but to move. In a circle, the centre is naturally immovable; and were the circumference the same, it would be only an immense centre. It is therefore better that the fire should turn around the centre in this living and naturally organized body. Thus the fire will tend towards the centre, not in stopping, for it would lose its circular form, but in moving itself around it; thus only will it be able to satisfy its tendency (towards the universal Soul). However, if this power effect the movement of the body of the universe, it does not drag it like a burden, nor give it an impulsion contrary to its nature. For nature is constituted by nothing else than the order established by the universal Soul. Besides, as the whole Soul is everywhere, and is not divided into parts, it endows the sky with all the ubiquity it can assimilate, which can occur only by traversing all of it. If the Soul remained immovable in one place, she would remain immovable as soon as the heavens reached this place; but as the Soul is everywhere, they would seek to reach her everywhere. Can the heavens never reach the Soul? On the contrary, they reach her ceaselessly; for the Soul, in ceaselessly attracting them to herself, endues them with a continual motion by which she carries them, not towards some other place, but towards herself, and in the same place, not in a straight line, but in a circle, and thus permits them to possess her in all the places which she traverses.
The heavens would be immovable if the Soul rested, that is, if she remained only in the intelligible world, where everything remains immovable. But because the Soul is in no one determinate place, and because the whole of her is everywhere, the heavens move through the whole of space; and as they cannot go out of themselves, they must move in a circle.
2. How do the other beings move? As none of them is the whole, but only a part, consequently, each finds itself situated in a particular place. On the contrary, the heavens are the whole; they constitute the place which excludes nothing, because it is the universe. As to the law according to which men move, each of them, considered in his dependence towards the universe, is a part of all; considered in himself, he is a whole.
Now, if the heavens possess the Soul, wherever they are, what urges them to move in a circle? Surely because the Soul is not exclusively in a determinate place (and the world does not exclusively in one place desire to possess her). Besides, if the power of the Soul revolve around the centre, it is once more evident that the heavens would move in a circle.
Besides, when we speak of the Soul, we must not understand the term "centre" in the same sense as when it is used of the body. For the Soul, the centre is the focus of (the intelligence) whence radiates a second life (that is, the Soul); as to the body, it is a locality (the centre of the world). Since, however, both soul and body need a centre, we are forced to use this word in an analogous meaning which may suit both of them. Speaking strictly, however, a centre can exist only for a spherical body, and the analogy consists in this, that the latter, like the Soul, effects a reflection upon itself. In this case, the Soul moves around the divinity, embraces Him, and clings to Him with all her might; for everything depends from Him. But, as she cannot unite herself to Him, she moves around Him.
Why do not all souls act like the universal Soul? They do act like her, but do so only in the place where they are. Why do our bodies not move in a circle, like the heavens? Because they include an element whose natural motion is rectilinear; because they trend towards other objects, because the spherical element315 in us can no longer easily move in a circle, because it has become terrestrial, while in the celestial region is was light and movable enough. How indeed could it remain at rest, while the Soul was in motion, whatever this movement was? This spirit(ual body) which, within us, is spread around the soul, does the same thing as do the heavens. Indeed, if the divinity be in everything, the Soul, which desires to unite herself to Him, must move around Him, since He resides in no determinate place. Consequently, Plato attributes to the stars, besides the revolution which they perform in common with the universe, a particular movement of rotation around their own centre. Indeed, every star, in whatever place it may be, is transported with joy while embracing the divinity; and this occurs not by reason, but by a natural necessity.
3. One more subject remains to be considered. The lowest power of the universal Soul (the inferior soul),316 rests on the earth, and thence radiates abroad throughout the universe. The (higher, or celestial) power (of the world-Soul) which, by nature, possesses sensation, opinion, and reasoning, resides in the celestial spheres, whence it dominates the inferior power, and communicates life to it. It thereby moves the inferior power, embracing it in a circle; and it presides over the universe as it returns (from the earth) to the celestial spheres. The inferior power, being circularly embraced by the superior power, reflects upon itself, and thus operates on itself a conversion by which it imparts a movement of rotation to the body within which it reacts. (This is how motion starts) in a sphere that is at rest: as soon as a part moves, the movement spreads to the rest of it, and the sphere begins to revolve. Not otherwise is our body; when our soul begins to move, as in joy, or in the expectation of welfare, although this movement be of a kind very different from that natural to a body, this soul-movement produces local motion in the body. Likewise the universal Soul, on high, while approaching the Good, and becoming more sensitive (to its proximity), thereby impresses the body with the motion proper to it, namely, the local movement. (Our own human) sense-(faculty), while receiving its good from above, and while enjoying the pleasures proper to its nature, pursues the Good, and, inasmuch as the Good is everywhere present, it is borne everywhere. The intelligence is moved likewise; it is simultaneously at rest and in motion, reflecting upon itself. Similarly the universe moves in a circle, though simultaneously standing still.
Other principles remain unmoved while producing and exhibiting their ("hypostases," substantial acts, or) forms of existence. The (universal) Soul, however, is in motion while producing and exhibiting her ("substantial act," or) forms of existence, namely, the functions of sensation and growth, reaching down as far as (the sphere of the) plants. In us also does the Soul function, but she does not dominate us, constituting only a part of our nature. She does, however, dominate in plants, having as it were remained alone there. Beyond that sphere, however, nature begets nothing; for beyond it exists no life, begotten (matter) being lifeless. All that was begotten prior to this was shapeless, and achieved form only by trending towards its begetting principle, as to its source of life. Consequently, that which is begotten cannot be a form of the Soul, being lifeless, but must be absolute in determination. The things anterior (to matter, namely, the sense-power and nature), are doubtless indeterminate, but only so within their form; the are not absolutely indeterminate; they are indeterminate only in respect of their perfection. On the contrary, that which exists at present, namely, (matter), is absolutely indeterminate. When it achieves perfection, it becomes body, on receiving the form suited to its power. This (form) is the receptacle of the principle which has begotten it, and which nourishes it. It is the only trace of the higher things in the body, which occupies the last rank amidst the things below.
2. It is to this (universal) Soul especially that may be applied these words of Plato:317 "The general Soul cares for all that is inanimate." The other (individual) souls are in different conditions. "The Soul (adds Plato), circulates around the heavens successively assuming divers forms"; that is, the forms of thought, sense or growth. The part which dominates in the soul fulfills its proper individual function; the others remain inactive, and somehow seem exterior to them. In man, it is not the lower powers of the soul that dominate. They do indeed co-exist with the others. Neither is it always the best power (reason), which always dominates; for the inferior powers equally have their place. Consequently, man (besides being a reasonable being) is also a sensitive being, because he possesses sense-organs. In many respects, he is also a vegetative being; for his body feeds and grows just like a plant. All these powers (reason, sensibility, growth), therefore act together in the man; but it is the best of them that characterizes the totality of the man (so that he is called a "reasonable being"). On leaving the body the soul becomes the power she had preponderatingly developed. Let us therefore flee from here below, and let us raise ourselves to the intelligible world, so as not to fall into the pure sense-life, by allowing ourselves to follow sense-images, or into the life of growth, by abandoning ourselves to the pleasures of physical love, and to gormandizing; rather, let us rise to the intelligible world, to the intelligence, to the divinity!
Those who have exercised their human faculties are re-born as men. Those who have made use of their senses only, pass into the bodies of brutes, and particularly into the bodies of wild animals, if they have yielded themselves to the transports of anger; so that, even in this case, the difference of the bodies they animate is proportioned to the difference of their inclinations. Those whose only effort it was to satisfy their desires and appetites pass into the bodies of lascivious and gluttonous animals.318 Last, those who instead of following their desires or their anger, have rather degraded their senses by their inertia, are reduced to vegetate in plants; for in their former existence they exercised nothing but their vegetative power, and they worked at nothing but to make trees of themselves.319 Those who have loved too much the enjoyments of music, and who otherwise lived purely, pass into the bodies of melodious birds. Those who have reigned tyrannically, become eagles, if they have no other vice.320 Last, those who spoke lightly of celestial things, having kept their glance directed upwards, are changed into birds which usually fly towards the high regions of the air.321 He who has acquired civil virtues again becomes a man; but if he does not possess them to a sufficient degree, he is transformed into a sociable animal, such as the bee, or other animal of the kind.
3. What then is our guardian? It is one of the powers of our soul. What is our divinity? It is also one of the powers of our soul. (Is it the power which acts principally in us as some people think?) For the power which acts in us seems to be that which leads us, since it is the principle which dominates in us. Is that the guardian to which we have been allotted during the course of our life?323 No: our guardian is the power immediately superior to the one that we exercise, for it presides over our life without itself being active. The power which is active in us is inferior to the one that presides over our life, and it is the one which essentially constitutes us. If then we live on the plane of the sense-life, our guardian is reason; if we live on the rational plane, our guardian will be the principal superior to reason (namely, intelligence); it will preside over our life, but it itself does not act, leaving that to the inferior power. Plato truly said that "we choose our guardian"; for, by the kind of life that we prefer, we choose the guardian that presides over our life. Why then does He direct us? He directs us during the course of our mortal life (because he is given to us to help us to accomplish our (destiny); but he can no longer direct us when our destiny is accomplished, because the power over the exercise of which he presided allows another power to act in his place (which however is dead, since the life in which it acted is terminated). This other power wishes to act in its turn, and, after having established its preponderance, it exercises itself during the course of a new life, itself having another guardian. If then we should chance to degrade ourselves by letting an inferior power prevail in us, we are punished for it. Indeed, the evil man degenerates because the power which he has developed in his life makes him descend to the existence of the brute, by assimilating him to it by his morals. If we could follow the guardian who is superior to him, he himself would become superior by sharing his life. He would then take as guide a part of himself superior to the one that governs him, then another part, still more elevated until he had arrived at the highest. Indeed, the soul is several things, or rather, the soul is all things; she is things both inferior and superior; she contains all the degrees of life. Each of us, in a certain degree, is the intelligible world; by our inferior part we are related to the sense-world, and by our superior part, to the intelligible world; we remain there on high by what constitutes our intelligible essence; we are attached here below by the powers which occupy the lowest rank in the soul. Thus we cause an emanation, or rather an actualization which implies no loss to the intelligible, to pass from the intelligible into the sense-world.
4. Is the power which is the act of the soul always united to a body? No; for when the soul turns towards the superior regions, she raises this power with her. Does the universal (Soul) also raise with herself to the intelligible world the inferior power which is her actualization (nature)? No: for she does not incline towards her low inferior portion, because she neither came nor descended into the world; but, while she remains in herself, the body of the world comes to unite with her, and to offer itself to receive her light's radiation; besides, her body does not cause her any anxiety, because it is not exposed to any peril. Does not the world, then, possess any senses? "It has no sight" (says Plato324) "for it has no eyes. Neither has it ears, nostrils, nor tongue." Does it, then, as we, possess the consciousness of what is going on within it? As, within the world, all things go on uniformly according to nature, it is, in this respect, in a kind of repose; consequently, it does not feel any pleasure. The power of growth exists within it without being present therein; and so also with the sense-power. Besides, we shall return to a study of the question. For the present, we have said all that relates to the question in hand.
5. But if (before coming on to the earth) the soul chooses her life and her guardian, how do we still preserve our liberty? Because what is called "choice" designates in an allegorical manner the character of the soul, and her general disposition everywhere. Again, it is objected that if the character of the soul preponderate, if the soul be dominated by that part which her former life rendered predominantly active, it is no longer the body which is her cause of evil; for if the character of the soul be anterior to her union with the body; if she have the character she has chosen; if, as said (Plato), she do not change her guardian, it is not here below that a man may become good or evil. The answer to this is, that potentially man is equally good or evil. (By his choices) however he may actualize one or the other.
What then would happen if a virtuous man should have a body of evil nature, or a vicious man a body of a good nature? The goodness of the soul has more or less influence on the goodness of the body. Exterior circumstances cannot thus alter the character chosen by the soul. When (Plato) says that the lots are spread out before the souls, and that later the different kinds of conditions are displayed before them, and that the fortune of each results from the choice made amidst the different kinds of lives present—a choice evidently made according to her character—(Plato) evidently attributes to the soul the power of conforming to her character the condition allotted to her.
Besides, our guardian is not entirely exterior to us; and, on the other hand, he is not bound to us, and is not active in us; he is ours, in the sense that he has a certain relation with our soul; he is not ours, in the sense that we are such men, living such a life under his supervision. This is the meaning of the terms used (by Plato) in the Timaeus.325 If these be taken in the above sense, all explains itself; if not, Plato contradicts himself.
One can still understand thus why he says that our guardian helps us to fulfil the destiny we have chosen. In fact, presiding over our life, he does not permit us to descend very far below the condition we have chosen. But that which then is active is the principle below the guardian and which can neither transcend him, nor equal him; for he could not become different from what he is.
6. Who then is the virtuous man? He in whom is active the highest part of the soul. If his guardian contributed to his actions, he would not deserve being called virtuous. Now it is the Intelligence which is active in the virtuous man. It is the latter, then, who is a guardian, or lives according to one; besides, his guardian is the divinity. Is this guardian above Intelligence? Yes, if the guardian have, as guardian, the principle superior to Intelligence (the Good). But why does the virtuous man not enjoy this privilege since the beginning? Because of the trouble he felt in falling into generation. Even before the exercise of reason, he has within him a desire which leads him to the things which are suitable to him. But does this desire direct with sovereign influence? No, not with sovereignty; for the soul is so disposed that, in such circumstances becoming such, she adopts such a life, and follows such an inclination.
(Plato) says that the guardian leads the soul to the hells,326 and that he does not remain attached to the same soul, unless this soul should again choose the same condition. What does the guardian do before this choice? Plato teaches us that he leads the soul to judgment, that after the generation he assumes again the same form as before; and then as if another existence were then beginning, during the time between generations, the guardian presides over the chastisements of the souls, and this period is for them not so much a period of life, as a period of expiation.
Do the souls that enter into the bodies of brutes also have a guardian? Yes, doubtless, but an evil or stupid one.
What is the condition of the souls that have raised themselves on high? Some are in the sensible world, others are outside of it. The souls that are in the sense-world dwell in the sun, or in some other planet, or in the firmament, according as they have more or less developed their reason. We must, indeed, remember that our soul contains in herself not only the intelligible world, but also a disposition conformable to the Soul of the world. Now as the latter is spread out in the movable spheres and in the immovable sphere by her various powers, our soul must possess powers conformable to these, each of which exercise their proper function. The souls which rise from here below into the heavens go to inhabit the star which harmonizes with their moral life, and with the power which they have developed; with their divinity, or their guardian. Then they will have either the same guardian, or the guardian which is superior to the power which they exert. This matter will have to be considered more minutely.
As to the souls which have left the sense-world, so long as they remain in the intelligible world, they are above the guardian condition, and the fatality of generation. Souls bring with them thither that part of their nature which is desirous of begetting, and which may reasonably be regarded as the essence which is divisible in the body, and which multiplies by dividing along with the bodies. Moreover, if a soul divide herself, it is not in respect to extension; because she is entirely in all the bodies. On the other hand, the Soul is one; and from a single animal are ceaselessly born many young. This generative element splits up like the vegetative nature in plants; for this nature is divisible in the bodies. When this divisible essence dwells in the same body, it vivifies the body, just as the vegetative power does for plants. When it retires, it has already communicated life, as is seen in cut trees, or in corpses where putrefaction has caused the birth of several animals from a single one. Besides, the vegetative power of the human soul is assisted by the vegetative power that is derived from the universal (Soul), and which here below is the same (as on high).
If the soul return here below, she possesses, according to the life which she is to lead, either the same guardian, or another. With her guardian she enters into this world as if in a skiff. Then she is subjected to the power (by Plato) called the Spindle of Necessity;327 and, embarking in this world, she takes the place assigned to her by fortune. Then she is caught by the circular movement of the heavens, whose action, as if it were the wind, agitates the skiff in which the soul is seated; or rather, is borne along. Thence are born varied spectacles, transformations and divers incidents for the soul which is embarked in this skiff; whether because of the agitation of the sea which bears it, or because of the conduct of the passenger who is sailing in the bark, and who preserves her freedom of action therein. Indeed, not every soul placed in the same circumstances makes the same movements, wills the same volitions, or performs the same actions. For different beings, therefore, the differences arise from circumstances either similar or different, or even the same events may occur to them under different circumstances. It is this (uncertainty) that constitutes Providence.
1. (As says pseudo-Zoroaster, in his Magic Oracles), "The soul should not be expelled from the body by violence, lest she go out (dragging along with her something foreign," that is, corporeal). In this case, she will be burdened with this foreign element whithersoever she may emigrate. By "emigrating," I mean passing into the Beyond. On the contrary, one should wait until the entire body naturally detaches itself from the soul; in which case she no longer needs to pass into any other residence, being completely unburdened of the body.
How will the body naturally detach itself from the soul? By the complete rupture of the bonds which keep the soul attached to the body, by the body's impotence to fetter the soul, on account of the complete destruction of the harmony which conferred this power on it.
One may not voluntarily disengage oneself from the fetters of the body. When violence is employed, it is not the body which disengages itself from the soul, it is the soul which makes an effort to snatch herself from the body, and that by an action which accomplishes itself not in the state of impassibility (which suits a sage), but as the result of grief, or suffering, or of anger. Now such an action is forbidden, or unworthy.
May one not forestall delirium or insanity, if one become aware of their approach? To begin with, insanity does not happen to a sage, and if it does, this accident should be considered one of those inevitable things which depend from fatality, and in which case one should direct one's path less according to his intrinsic quality than according to circumstances; for perhaps the poison one might select to eject the soul from the body might do nothing but injure the soul.
If there be an appointed time for the life of each of us, it is not well to forestall the decree of Providence, unless, as we have said,328 under absolute compulsion.
Last, if rank obtained above depend on the state obtaining at the time of exit from the body, no man should separate himself from it so long as he might still achieve progress.329
1. Is "essence" something different from "being"? Does essence indicate an abstraction of the other (four categories), and is being, on the contrary, essence with the other (four categories), motion and rest, identity and difference? Are these the elements of being? Yes: "being" is the totality of these things, of which one is essence, the other is motion, and so forth. Motion, therefore, is accidental essence. Is it also accidental "being?" Or is it being completely? Motion is being, because all intelligible things are beings. But why is not each of the sense-things a being? The reason is, that on high all things form only a single group of totality, while here below they are distinct one from another because they are images that have been distinguished. Likewise, in a seminal (reason), all things are together, and each of them is all the others; the hand is not distinct from the head; while, on the contrary, in a body all the organs are separate, because they are images instead of being genuine beings.
We may now say that, in the intelligible world, qualities are the characteristic differences in being or essence. These differences effect distinction between the beings; in short, they cause them to be beings. This definition seems reasonable. But it does not suit the qualities below (in the sense-world); some are differences of being, as biped, or quadruped (as thought Aristotle);330 others are not differences, and on that very account are called qualities. Still, the same thing may appear a difference when it is a complement of the being, and again it may not seem a difference when it is not a complement of the being, but an accident: as, for instance, whiteness is a complement of being in a swan, or in white lead; but in a human being like you, it is only an accident (as thought Aristotle).331 So long as the whiteness is in the ("seminal) reason," it is a complement of being, and not a quality; if it be on the surface of a being, it is a quality.
Two kinds of qualities must be distinguished; the essential quality, which is a peculiarity of its being, and the mere quality, which affects the being's classification. The mere quality introduces no change in the essence, and causes none of its characteristics to disappear; but, when the being exists already, and is complete, this quality gives it a certain exterior disposition; and, whether in the case of a soul or body, adds something to it. Thus visible whiteness, which is of the very being of white lead, is not of the being of the swan, because a swan may be of some color other than white. Whiteness then completes the being of white lead, just as heat completes the being of fire. If igneousness is said to be the being of fire, whiteness is also the being of white lead. Nevertheless, the igneousness of the visible fire is heat, which constitutes the complement of its being; and whiteness plays the same part with respect to white lead. Therefore (differing according to the difference of various beings) the same things will be complements of being, and will not be qualities, or they will not be complements of being, and will be qualities; but it would not be reasonable to assert that these qualities are different according to whether or not they are complements of being, since their nature is the same.
We must acknowledge that the reasons which produce these things (as heat, and whiteness) are beings, if taken in their totality; but on considering their production, we see that what constitutes a whatness or quiddity (the Aristotelian "what it were to be") in the intelligible world, becomes a quality in the sense-world. Consequently, we always err on the subject of the quiddity, when we try to determine it, mistaking the simple quality for it (as thought Plato),332 for, when we perceive a quality, the fire is not what we call fire, but a being. As to the things which arrest our gaze, we should distinguish them from the quiddity, and define them by the qualities of sense (objects); for they do not constitute the being, but the affections of being.
We are thus led to ask how a being can be composed of non-beings? It has already been pointed out that the things subject to generation could not be identical with the principles from which they proceed. Let us now add that they could not be beings. But still, how can one say that the intelligible being is constituted by a non-being? The reason is that in the intelligible world since being forms a purer and more refined essence, being really is somehow constituted by the differences of essence; or rather, we feel it ought to be called being from considering it together with its energies (or, actualizations). This being seems to be a perfecting of essence; but perhaps being is less perfect when it is thus considered together with its actualizations; for, being less simple, it veers away from essence.
2. Let us now consider what quality in general is; for when we shall know this, our doubts will cease. First, must it be admitted that one and the same thing is now a quality, and then a complement of being? Can one say that quality is the complement of being, or rather of such a being? The suchness of being implies a previously existing being and quiddity.
Taking the illustration of fire, is it "mere being" before it is "such being?" In this case, it would be a body. Consequently, the body will be a being; fire will be a hot body. Body and heat combined will not constitute being; but heat will exist in the body as in you exists the property of having a stub nose (as said Aristotle).333 Consequently, if we abstract heat, shine and lightness, which seem to be qualities, and also impenetrability, nothing will remain but tridimensional extension, and matter will be "being." But this hypothesis does not seem likely; it is rather form which will be "being."
Is form a quality? No: form is a reason. Now what is constituted by (material) substance, and reason? (In the warm body) it is neither what burns, nor what is visible; it is quality. If, however, it be said that combustion is an act emanating from reason, that being hot and white are actualities, we could not find anything to explain quality.
What we call a complement of being should not be termed a quality, because they are actualizations of being, actualizations which proceed from the reasons and the essential potentialities. Qualities are therefore something outside of being; something which does not at times seem to be, and at other times does not seem not to be qualities; something which adds to being something that is not necessary; for example, virtues and vices, ugliness and beauty, health, and individual resemblance. Though triangle, and tetragon, each considered by itself, are not qualities; yet being "transformed into triangular appearance" is a quality; it is not therefore triangularity, but triangular formation, which is a quality. The same could be said of the arts and professions. Consequently, quality is a disposition, either adventitious or original, in already existing beings. Without it, however, being would exist just as much. It might be said that quality is either mutable or immutable; for it forms two kinds, according to whether it be permanent or changeable.
3. The whiteness that I see in you is not a quality, but an actualization of the potentiality of whitening. In the intelligible world all the things that we call qualities are actualizations. They are called qualities because they are properties, because they differentiate the beings from each other, because in respect to themselves they bear a particular character. But since quality in the sense-world is also an actualization, in what does it differ from the intelligible quality? The sense-quality does not show the essential quality of every being, nor the difference or character of substances, but simply the thing that we properly call quality, and which is an actualization in the intelligible world. When the property of something is to be a being, this thing is not a quality. But when reason separates beings from their properties, when it removes nothing from them, when it limits itself to conceiving and begetting different from these beings, it begets quality, which it conceives of as the superficial part of being. In this case, nothing hinders the heat of the fire, so far as it is natural to it, from constituting a form, an actualization, and not a quality of the fire; it is a quality when it exists in a substance where it no longer constitutes the form of being, but only a trace, an adumbration, an image of being, because it finds itself separated from the being whose actualization it is.
Qualities, therefore, are everything that, instead of being actualizations and forms of beings, are only its accidents, and only reveal its shapes. We will therefore call qualities the habituations and the dispositions which are not essential to substances. The archetypes (or models) of qualities are the actualizations of the beings, which are the principles of these qualities. It is impossible for the same thing at one time to be, and at another not to be a quality. What can be separated from being is quality; what remains united to being is being, form, and actualization. In fact, nothing can be the same in itself, and in some other condition where it has ceased to be form and an actualization. What, instead of being the form of a being, is always its accident, is purely and exclusively a quality.
1. Do ideas of individuals (as well as of classes of individuals), exist? This means that if I, in company with some other man, were to trace ourselves back to the intelligible world, we would there find separate individual principles corresponding to each of us. (This might imply either of two theories.) Either, if the individual named Socrates be eternal, and if the soul of Socrates be Socrates himself, then the soul of each individual is contained in the intelligible world. Or if, on the contrary, the individual named Socrates be not eternal, if the same soul can belong successively to several individuals, such as Socrates or Pythagoras, then (as Alcinoous, e. g., and other Platonists insist), each individual does not have his idea in the intelligible world.
If the particular soul of each man contains ("seminal) reasons" of all the things she does, then each individual corresponds to his idea in the intelligible world, for we admit that each soul contains as many ("seminal) reasons" as the entire world. In this case, the soul would contain not only the ("seminal) reasons" of men but also those of all animals, the number of these reasons will be infinite, unless (as the Stoics teach) the world does not re-commence the identical series of existences in fixed periods; for the only means of limiting the infinity of reasons, is that the same things should reproduce themselves.
But, if produced things may be more numerous than their specimens, what would be the necessity for the "reasons" and specimens of all individuals begotten during some one period? It would seem that the (idea of) the "man himself" to explain the existence of all men, and that the souls of a finite number of them could successively animate men of an infinite number. (To this contention we demur: for) it is impossible for different things to have an identical ("seminal) reason." The (idea of) the man himself would not, as model, suffice (to account) for men who differ from each other not only by matter, but also by specific differences. They cannot be compared to the images of Socrates which reproduce their model. Only the difference of the ("seminal) reasons" could give rise to individual differences. (As Plato said),334 the entire period contains all the ("seminal) reasons." When it recommences, the same things rearise through the same "reasons." We need not fear that, as a consequence, there would be an infinite (number or variety) of them in the intelligible world; for the multitude (of the seminal reasons) constitutes an indivisible principle from which each issues forth whenever active.
2. (First objection): The manner in which the ("seminal) reasons" of the male and female unite, in the act of generation, suffices to account for the diversity of individuals, without implying that each of them possesses its own ("seminal) reason." The generating principle, the male, for example, will not propagate according to different ("seminal) reasons," since it possesses all of them, but only according to its own, or those of its father. Since it possesses all of the ("seminal) reasons," nothing would hinder it from begetting according to different "reasons," only, there are always some which are more disposed to act than are others.
(Second objection): Please explain how differing individuals are born from the same parents. This diversity, if it be anything more than merely apparent, depends on the manner in which the two generating principles concur in the act of generation; at one time the male predominates, at other times, the female; again, they may both act equally. In either case, the ("seminal) reason" is given in its entirety, and dominates the matter furnished by either of the generating principles.
(Third objection): What then is the cause of the difference of the individuals conceived in some other place (than the womb, as in the mouth), (as Aristotle335 and Sextus Empiricus336 asked)? Would it arise from matter being penetrated by the ("seminal) reason" in differing degrees? In this case, all the individuals, except one, would be beings against nature (which, of course, is absurd). The varieties of the individuals are a principle of beauty; consequently, form cannot be one of them; ugliness alone should be attributed to the predominance of matter. In the intelligible world, the ("seminal) reasons" are perfect, and they are not given any less entirely for being hidden.
(Fourth objection): Granting that the ("seminal) reasons" of the individuals are different, why should there be as many as there are individuals which achieve existence in any one period? It is possible that identical "reasons" might produce individuals differing in external appearance; and we have even granted that this may occur when the ("seminal) reasons" are given entirely. It is asked, is this possible when the same "reasons" are developed? We teach that absolutely similar things might be reproduced in different periods; but, within the same period, there is nothing absolutely identical.
3. (Fifth objection): But how could ("seminal) reasons" be different in the conception of twins, and in the act of generation in the case of animals who procreate multiple offspring? Here it would seem that when the individuals are similar, there could be but one single "reason." No so; for in that case there would not be so many "reasons" as there are individuals; and, on the contrary, it will have to be granted that there are as many as there are individuals that differ by specific differences, and not by a mere lack of form. Nothing therefore hinders us from admitting that there are different "reasons," even for animal offspring which show no difference, if there were such. An artist who produces similar works cannot produce this resemblance without introducing in it some difference which depends on reasoning; so that every work he produces differs from the others, because he adds some difference to the similarity. In nature, where the difference does not derive from reasoning, but only from differing ("seminal) reasons" the (individual) difference will have to be added to the specific form, even though we may not be able to discern it. The ("seminal) reason" would be different if generation admitted chance as to quantity (the number of offspring begotten). But if the number of things to be born is determinate, the quantity will be limited by the evolution and development of all the "reasons," so that, when the series of all things will be finished, another period may recommence. The quantity suitable to the world, and the number of beings who are to exist therein, are things regulated and contained in the principle which contains all the "reasons" (that is, the universal Soul), from the very beginning.
1. Man must flee from (this world) here below (for two reasons): because it is the nature of the soul to flee from evil, and because inevitable evil prevails and dominates this world here below. What is this flight (and how can we accomplish it)? (Plato),337 tells us it consists in "being assimilated to divinity." This then can be accomplished by judiciously conforming to justice, and holiness; in short, by virtue.
If then it be by virtue that we are assimilated (to divinity), does this divinity to whom we are trying to achieve assimilation, Himself possess virtue? Besides, what divinity is this? Surely it must be He who must most seem to possess virtue, the world-Soul, together with the principle predominating in her, whose wisdom is most admirable (supreme Intelligence)—for it is quite reasonable that we should be assimilated to Him. Nevertheless, one might, unreflectingly, question whether all virtues might suit this divinity; whether, for instance, moderation in his desires, or courage could be predicated of Him; for, as to courage, nothing can really harm Him, and He therefore has nothing to fear; and as to moderation, no pleasant object whose presence would excite His desires, or whose absence would in Him awaken regrets, could possibly exist. But inasmuch as the divinity, just as we ourselves, aspires to intelligible things, He is evidently the source of our gracious sanity and virtues. So we are forced to ask ourselves, "Does the divinity possess these virtues?"
It would not be proper to attribute to Him the homely (or, civil) virtues, such as prudence, which "relates to the rational part of our nature"; courage, which "relates to our irascible part"; temperance, which consists of the harmonious consonance of our desires and our reason; last, of justice, which "consists in the accomplishment by all these faculties of the function proper to each of them," "whether to command, or to obey," (as said Plato338). But if we cannot become assimilated to the divinity by these homely virtues, that process must demand similarly named virtues of a superior order. However, these homely virtues would not be entirely useless to achieve that result, for one cannot say that while practising them one does not at all resemble the divinity as they who practise them are reputed to be godlike. These lower virtues do therefore yield some resemblance to the divinity, but complete assimilation can result only from virtues of a higher order.
Virtues, even if they be not homely, are therefore ultimately ascribed (to the divinity). Granting that the divinity does not possess the homely virtues, we may still become assimilated to Him by other virtues for with virtues of another order the case might differ. Therefore, without assimilating ourselves to the divinity by homely virtues we might nevertheless by means of virtues which still are ours, become assimilated to the Being which does not possess virtue.
This may be explained by an illustration. When a body is warmed by the presence of fire, the fire itself need not be heated by the presence of another fire. It might be argued that there was heat in the fire, but a heat that is innate. Reasoning by analogy, the virtue, which in the soul is only adventitious, is innate in Him from whom the soul derives it by imitation; (in other words, the cause need not necessarily possess the same qualities as the effect).
Our argument from heat might however be questioned, inasmuch as the divinity really does possess virtue, though it be of a higher nature. This observation would be correct, if the virtue in which the soul participates were identical with the principle from which she derives it. But there is a complete opposition; for when we see a house, the sense-house is not identical with the intelligible House, though possessing resemblance thereto. Indeed, the sense-house participates in order and proportion, though neither order, proportion, nor symmetry could be attributed to the idea of the House. Likewise, we derived from the divinity order, proportion and harmony, which, here below, are conditions of virtue, without thereby implying that the divinity Himself need possess order, proportion, or harmony. Similarly, it is not necessary that He possess virtue, although we become assimilated to Him thereby.
Such is our demonstration that human assimilation to the divine Intelligence by virtue does not (necessarily imply) (in the divine Intelligence itself) possession of virtue. Mere logical demonstration thereof is not, however, sufficient; we must also convince.
2. Let us first examine the virtues by which we are assimilated to the divinity, and let us study the identity between our soul-image which constitutes virtue, and supreme Intelligence's principle which, without being virtue, is its archetype. There are two kinds of resemblance: the first entails such identity of nature as exists when both similar things proceed from a same principle; the second is that of one thing to another which precedes it, as its principle. In the latter case, there is no reciprocity, and the principle does not resemble that which is inferior to it; or rather, the resemblance must be conceived entirely differently. It does not necessitate that the similar objects be of the same kind; it rather implies that they are of different kinds, inasmuch as they resemble each other differently.
(It is difficult to define) what is virtue, in general or in particular. To clear up the matter, let us consider one particular kind of virtue: then it will be easy to determine the common essence underlying them all.
The above-mentioned homely virtues really render our souls gracious, and improve them, regulating and moderating our appetites, tempering our passions, delivering us from false opinions, limiting us within just bounds, and they themselves must be determined by some kind of measure. This measure given to our souls resembles the form given to matter, and the proportion of intelligible things; it is as it were a trace of what is most perfect above. What is unmeasured, being no more than formless matter, cannot in any way resemble divinity. The greater the participation in form, the greater the assimilation to the formless; and the closer we get to form, the greater the participation therein. Thus our soul, whose nature is nearer to divinity and more kindred to it than the body is, thereby participates the more in the divine, and increases that resemblance enough to make it seem that the divinity is all that she herself is. Thus arises the deception, which represents her as the divine divinity, as if her quality constituted that of the divinity. Thus are men of homely virtues assimilated to the divinity.
3. We will now, following (Plato),339 speak of another kind of assimilation as the privilege of a higher virtue. We will thus better understand the nature of homely virtues, and the higher virtues, and the difference between them. Plato is evidently distinguishing two kinds of virtues when he says that assimilation to the divinity consists in fleeing from (the world) here below; when he adds the qualification "homely" to the virtues relating to social life; and when in another place he asserts340 that all virtues are processes of purification; and it is not to the homely virtues that he attributes the power of assimilating us to the divinity.
How then do the virtues purify? How does this process of purification bring us as near as possible to the divinity? So long as the soul is mingled with the body, sharing its passions and opinions, she is evil. She becomes better, that is, she acquires virtues, only when, instead of agreeing with the body, she thinks by herself (this is true thought, and constitutes prudence); when she ceases to share its passions (in other words, temperance); when she no longer fears separation from the body (a state called courage); and last, when reason and intelligence can enforce their command (or justice).