This is more philosophical than Milton’s representation, in a more scientific age, of Uriel sliding to the earth on a sunbeam, and sliding back again, when the sun had sunk below the horizon.

The philosophical notions of up and down are too much at variance with the obvious suggestions of our senses, to be held steadily and justly by minds undisciplined in science. Perhaps it was some misunderstood statement of the curved surface of the ocean, which gave rise to the tradition of there being a part of the sea directly over the earth, from which at times an object has been known to fall or an anchor to be let down. Even such whimsical fancies are not without instruction, and may serve to show the reader what that vagueness and obscurity of ideas is, of which I have been endeavoring to trace the prevalence in the dark ages.

We now proceed to another of the features which appears to me to mark, in a very prominent manner, the character of the stationary period.

CHAPTER II.

The Commentatorial Spirit of the Middle Ages.

WE have already noticed, that, after the first great achievements of the founders of sound speculation, in the different departments of human knowledge, had attracted the interest and admiration which those who became acquainted with them could not but give to them, there appeared a disposition among men to lean on the authority of some of these teachers;—to study the opinions of others as the only mode of forming their own;—to read nature through books;—to attend to what had been already thought and said, rather than to what really is and happens. This tendency of men’s minds requires our particular consideration. Its manifestations were very important, and highly characteristic of the stationary period; it gave, in a great degree, a peculiar bias and direction to the intellectual activity of many centuries; and the kind of labor with which speculative men were occupied in consequence of this bias, took the place of that examination of realities which must be their employment, in order that real knowledge may make any decided progress.

In some subjects, indeed, as, for instance, in the domains of morals, poetry, and the arts, whose aim is the production of beauty, this opposition between the study of former opinion and present reality, may not be so distinct; inasmuch as it may be said by some, that, in these subjects, opinions are realities; that the thoughts and feelings which 202 prevail in men’s minds are the material upon which we must work, the particulars from which we are to generalize, the instruments which we are to use; and that, therefore, to reject the study of antiquity, or even its authority, would be to show ourselves ignorant of the extent and mutual bearing of the elements with which we have to deal;—would be to cut asunder that which we ought to unite into a vital whole. Yet even in the provinces of history and poetry, the poverty and servility of men’s minds during the middle ages, are shown by indications so strong as to be truly remarkable; for instance, in the efforts of the antiquarians of almost every European country to assimilate the early history of their own state to the poet’s account of the foundation of Rome, by bringing from the sack of Troy, Brutus to England, Bavo to Flanders, and so on. But however this may be, our business at present is, to trace the varying spirit of the physical philosophy of different ages; trusting that, hereafter, this prefatory study will enable us to throw some light upon the other parts of philosophy. And in physics the case undoubtedly was, that the labor of observation, which is one of the two great elements of the progress of knowledge, was in a great measure superseded by the collection, the analysis, the explanation, of previous authors and opinions; experimenters were replaced by commentators; criticism took the place of induction; and instead of great discoverers we had learned men.

1. Natural Bias to Authority.—It is very evident that, in such a bias of men’s studies, there is something very natural; however strained and technical this erudition may have been, the propensities on which it depends are very general, and are easily seen. Deference to the authority of thoughtful and sagacious men, a disposition which men in general neither reject nor think they ought to reject in practical matters, naturally clings to them, even in speculation. It is a satisfaction to us to suppose that there are, or have been, minds of transcendent powers, of wide and wise views, superior to the common errors and blindness of our nature. The pleasure of admiration, and the repose of confidence, are inducements to such a belief. There are also other reasons why we willingly believe that there are in philosophy great teachers, so profound and sagacious, that, in order to arrive at truth, we have only to learn their thoughts, to understand their writings. There is a peculiar interest which men feel in dealing with the thoughts of their fellow-men, rather than with brute matter. Matter feels and excites no sympathies: in seeking for mere laws of nature, there is nothing of mental intercourse with the great spirits of the past, as there is in 203 studying Aristotle or Plato. Moreover, a large portion of this employment is of a kind the most agreeable to most speculative minds; it consists in tracing the consequences of assumed principles: it is deductive like geometry: and the principles of the teachers being known, and being undisputed, the deduction and application of their results is an obvious, self-satisfying, and inexhaustible exercise of ingenuity.

These causes, and probably others, make criticism and commentation flourish, when invention begins to fail, oppressed and bewildered by the acquisitions it has already made; and when the vigor and hope of men’s minds are enfeebled by civil and political changes. Accordingly,20 the Alexandrian school was eminently characterized by a spirit of erudition, of literary criticism, of interpretation, of imitation. These practices, which reigned first in their full vigor in “the Museum,” are likely to be, at all times, the leading propensities of similar academical institutions.

How natural it is to select a great writer as a paramount authority, and to ascribe to him extraordinary profundity and sagacity, we may see, in the manner in which the Greeks looked upon Homer; and the fancy which detected in his poems traces of the origin of all arts and sciences, has, as we know, found favor even in modern times. To pass over earlier instances of this feeling, we may observe, that Strabo begins his Geography by saying that he agrees with Hipparchus, who had declared Homer to be the first author of our geographical knowledge; and he does not confine the application of this assertion to the various and curious topographical information which the Iliad and Odyssey contain, concerning the countries surrounding the Mediterranean; but in phrases which, to most persons, might appear the mere play of a poetical fancy, or a casual selection of circumstances, he finds unquestionable evidence of a correct knowledge of general geographical truths. Thus,21 when Homer speaks of the sun “rising from the soft and deep-flowing ocean,” of his “splendid blaze plunging in the ocean;” of the northern constellation

“Alone unwashen by the ocean wave;”

and of Jupiter, “who goes to the ocean to feast with the blameless Ethiopians;” Strabo is satisfied from these passages that Homer knew the dry land to be surrounded with water: and he reasons in like manner with respect to other points of geography.

204 2. Character of Commentators.—The spirit of commentation, as has already been suggested, turns to questions of taste, of metaphysics, of morals, with far more avidity than to physics. Accordingly, critics and grammarians were peculiarly the growth of this school; and, though the commentators sometimes chose works of mathematical or physical science for their subject (as Proclus, who commented on Euclid’s Geometry, and Simplicius, on Aristotle’s Physics), these commentaries were, in fact, rather metaphysical than mathematical. It does not appear that the commentators have, in any instance, illustrated the author by bringing his assertions of facts to the test of experiment. Thus, when Simplicius comments on the passage concerning a vacuum, which we formerly adduced, he notices the argument which went upon the assertion, that a vessel full of ashes would contain as much water as an empty vessel; and he mentions various opinions of different authors, but no trial of the fact. Eudemus had said, that the ashes contained something hot, as quicklime does, and that by means of this, a part of the water was evaporated; others supposed the water to be condensed, and so on.22

The Commentator’s professed object is to explain, to enforce, to illustrate doctrines assumed as true. He endeavors to adapt the work on which he employs himself to the state of information and of opinion in his own time; to elucidate obscurities and technicalities; to supply steps omitted in the reasoning; but he does not seek to obtain additional truths or new generalizations. He undertakes only to give what is virtually contained in his author; to develop, but not to create. He is a cultivator of the thoughts of others: his labor is not spent on a field of his own; he ploughs but to enrich the granary of another man. Thus he does not work as a freeman, but as one in a servile condition; or rather, his is a menial, and not a productive service: his office is to adorn the appearance of his master, not to increase his wealth.

Yet though the Commentator’s employment is thus subordinate and dependent, he is easily led to attribute to it the greatest importance and dignity. To elucidate good books is, indeed, a useful task; and when those who undertake this work execute it well, it would be most unreasonable to find fault with them for not doing more. But the critic, long and earnestly employed on one author, may easily underrate the relative value of other kinds of mental exertion. He may 205 ascribe too large dimensions to that which occupies the whole of his own field of vision. Thus he may come to consider such study as the highest aim, and best evidence of human genius. To understand Aristotle, or Plato, may appear to him to comprise all that is possible of profundity and acuteness. And when he has travelled over a portion of their domain, and satisfied himself that of this he too is master, he may look with complacency at the circuit he has made, and speak of it as a labor of vast effort and difficulty. We may quote, as an expression of this temper, the language of Sir Henry Savile, in concluding a course of lectures on Euclid, delivered at Oxford.23 “By the grace of God, gentlemen hearers, I have performed my promise; I have redeemed my pledge. I have explained, according to my ability, the definitions, postulates, axioms, and first eight propositions of the Elements of Euclid. Here, sinking under the weight of years, I lay down my art and my instruments.”

We here speak of the peculiar province of the Commentator; for undoubtedly, in many instances, a commentary on a received author has been made the vehicle of conveying systems and doctrines entirely different from those of the author himself; as, for instance, when the New Platonists wrote, taking Plato for their text. The labors of learned men in the stationary period, which came under this description, belong to another class.

3. Greek Commentators on Aristotle.—The commentators or disciples of the great philosophers did not assume at once their servile character. At first their object was to supply and correct, as well as to explain their teacher. Thus among the earlier commentators of Aristotle, Theophrastus invented five moods of syllogism in the first figure, in addition to the four invented by Aristotle, and stated with additional accuracy the rules of hypothetical syllogisms. He also not only collected much information concerning animals, and natural events, which Aristotle had omitted, but often differed with his master; as, for instance, concerning the saltness of the sea: this, which the Stagirite attributed to the effect of the evaporation produced by the sun’s rays, was ascribed by Theophrastus to beds of salt at the bottom. Porphyry,24 who flourished in the third century, wrote a book on the Predicables, which was found to be so suitable a complement 206 to the Predicaments or Categories of Aristotle, that it was usually prefixed to that treatise; and the two have been used as an elementary work together, up to modern times. The Predicables are the five steps which the gradations of generality and particularity introduce;—genus, species, difference, individual, accident:—the Categories are the ten heads under which assertions or predications may be arranged:—substance, quantity, relation, quality, place, time, position, habit, action, passion.

At a later period, the Aristotelian commentators became more servile, and followed the author step by step, explaining, according to their views, his expressions and doctrines; often, indeed, with extreme prolixity, expanding his clauses into sentences, and his sentences into paragraphs. Alexander Aphrodisiensis, who lived at the end of the second century, is of this class; “sometimes useful,” as one of the recent editors of Aristotle says;25 “but by the prolixity of his interpretation, by his perverse itch for himself discussing the argument expounded by Aristotle, for defending his opinions, and for refuting or reconciling those of others, he rather obscures than enlightens.” At various times, also, some of the commentators, and especially those of the Alexandrian school, endeavored to reconcile, or combined without reconciling, opposing doctrines of the great philosophers of the earlier times. Simplicius, for instance, and, indeed, a great number of the Alexandrian Philosophers,26 as Alexander, Ammonius, and others, employed themselves in the futile task of reconciling the doctrines of the Pythagoreans, of the Eleatics, of Plato, and of the Stoics, with those of Aristotle. Boethius27 entertained the design of translating into Latin the whole of Aristotle’s and Plato’s works, and of showing their agreement; a gigantic plan, which he never executed. Others employed themselves in disentangling the confusion which such attempts produced, as John the Grammarian, surnamed Philoponus, “the Labor-loving;” who, towards the end of the seventh century, maintained that Aristotle was entirely misunderstood by Porphyry and Proclus,28 who had pretended to incorporate his doctrines into those of the New Platonic school, or even to reconcile him with Plato himself on the subject of ideas. Others, again, wrote Epitomes, Compounds, Abstracts; and endeavored to throw the works of the philosopher into some simpler and more obviously regular form, as John of Damascus, in 207 the middle of the eighth century, who made abstracts of some of Aristotle’s works, and introduced the study of the author into theological education. These two writers lived under the patronage of the Arabs; the former was favored by Amrou, the conqueror of Egypt; the latter was at first secretary to the Caliph, but afterwards withdrew to a monastery.29

At this period the Arabians became the fosterers and patrons of philosophy, rather than the Greeks. Justinian had, by an edict, closed the school of Athens, the last of the schools of heathen philosophy. Leo, the Isaurian, who was a zealous Iconoclast, abolished also the schools where general knowledge had been taught, in combination with Christianity,30 yet the line of the Aristotelian commentators was continued, though feebly, to the later ages of the Greek empire. Anna Comnena31 mentions a Eustratus who employed himself upon the dialectic and moral treatises, and whom she does not hesitate to elevate above the Stoics and Platonists, for his talent in philosophical discussions. Nicephorus Blemmydes wrote logical and physical epitomes for the use of John Ducas; George Pachymerus composed an epitome of the philosophy of Aristotle, and a compend of his logic; Theodore Metochytes, who was famous in his time alike for his eloquence and his learning, has left a paraphrase of the books of Aristotle on Physics, on the Soul, the Heavens,32 &c. Fabricius states that this writer has a chapter, the object of which is to prove, that all philosophers, and Aristotle and Plato in particular, have disdained the authority of their predecessors. He could hardly help remarking in how different a spirit philosophy had been pursued since their time.

4. Greek Commentators of Plato and others.—I have spoken principally of the commentators of Aristotle, for he was the great subject of the commentators proper; and though the name of his rival, Plato, was graced by a list of attendants, hardly less numerous, these, the Neoplatonists, as they are called, had introduced new elements into the doctrines of their nominal master, to such an extent that they must be placed in a different class. We may observe here, however, how, in this school as in the Peripatetic, the race of commentators multiplied itself. Porphyry, who commented on Aristotle, was commented on by Ammonius; Plotinus’s Enneads were commented on by Proclus and Dexippus. Psellus33 the elder was a paraphrast of 208 Aristotle; Psellus the younger, in the eleventh century, attempted to restore the New Platonic school. The former of these two writers had for his pupils two men, the emperor Leo, surnamed the Philosopher, and Photius the patriarch, who exerted themselves to restore the study of literature at Constantinople. We still possess the Collection of Extracts of Photius, which, like that of Stobæus and others, shows the tendency of the age to compilations, abstracts, and epitomes,—the extinction of philosophical vitality.

5. Arabian Commentators of Aristotle.—The reader might perhaps have expected, that when the philosophy of the Greeks was carried among a new race of intellects, of a different national character and condition, the train of this servile tradition would have been broken; that some new thoughts would have started forth; that some new direction, some new impulse, would have been given to the search for truth. It might have been anticipated that we should have had schools among the Arabians which should rival the Peripatetic, Academic, and Stoic among the Greeks;—that they would preoccupy the ground on which Copernicus and Galileo, Lavoisier and Linnæus, won their fame;—that they would make the next great steps in the progressive sciences. Nothing of this, however, happened. The Arabians cannot claim, in science or philosophy, any really great names; they produced no men and no discoveries which have materially influenced the course and destinies of human knowledge; they tamely adopted the intellectual servitude of the nation which they conquered by their arms; they joined themselves at once to the string of slaves who were dragging the car of Aristotle and Plotinus. Nor, perhaps, on a little further reflection, shall we be surprised at this want of vigor and productive power, in this period of apparent national youth. The Arabians had not been duly prepared rightly to enjoy and use the treasures of which they became possessed. They had, like most uncivilized nations, been passionately fond of their indigenous poetry; their imagination had been awakened, but their rational powers and speculative tendencies were still torpid. They received the Greek philosophy without having passed through those gradations of ardent curiosity and keen research, of obscurity brightening into clearness, of doubt succeeded by the joy of discovery, by which the Greek mind had been enlarged and exercised. Nor had the Arabians ever enjoyed, as the Greeks had, the individual consciousness, the independent volition, the intellectual freedom, arising from the freedom of political institutions. They had not felt the contagious mental activity of a small city,—the elation arising from the general 209 sympathy in speculative pursuits diffused through an intelligent and acute audience; in short, they had not had a national education such as fitted the Greeks to be disciples of Plato and Hipparchus. Hence, their new literary wealth rather encumbered and enslaved, than enriched and strengthened them: in their want of taste for intellectual freedom, they were glad to give themselves up to the guidance of Aristotle and other dogmatists. Their military habits had accustomed them to look to a leader; their reverence for the book of their law had prepared them to accept a philosophical Koran also. Thus the Arabians, though they never translated the Greek poetry, translated, and merely translated, the Greek philosophy; they followed the Greek philosophers without deviation, or, at least, without any philosophical deviations. They became for the most part Aristotelians;—studied not only Aristotle, but the commentators of Aristotle; and themselves swelled the vast and unprofitable herd.

The philosophical works of Aristotle had, in some measure, made their way in the East, before the growth of the Saracen power. In the sixth century, a Syrian, Uranus,34 encouraged by the love of philosophy manifested by Cosroes, had translated some of the writings of the Stagirite; about the same time, Sergius had given some translations in Syriac. In the seventh century, Jacob of Edessa translated into this language the Dialectics, and added Notes to the work. Such labors became numerous; and the first Arabic translations of Aristotle were formed upon these Persian or Syriac texts. In this succession of transfusions, some mistakes must inevitably have been introduced.

The Arabian interpreters of Aristotle, like a large portion of the Alexandrian ones, gave to the philosopher a tinge of opinions borrowed from another source, of which I shall have to speak under the head of Mysticism. But they are, for the most part, sufficiently strong examples of the peculiar spirit of commentation, to make it fitting to notice them here. At the head of them stands35 Alkindi, who appears to have lived at the court of Almamon, and who wrote commentaries on the Organon of Aristotle. But Alfarabi was the glory of the school of Bagdad; his knowledge included mathematics, astronomy, medicine, and philosophy. Born in an elevated rank, and possessed of a rich patrimony, he led an austere life, and devoted himself altogether to study and meditation. He employed himself particularly in unfolding the import of Aristotle’s treatise On the Soul.36 Avicenna (Ebn Sina) 210 was at once the Hippocrates and the Aristotle of the Arabians; and certainly the most extraordinary man that the nation produced. In the course of an unfortunate and stormy life, occupied by politics and by pleasures, he produced works which were long revered as a sort of code of science. In particular, his writings on medicine, though they contain little besides a compilation of Hippocrates and Galen, took the place of both, even in the universities of Europe; and were studied as models at Paris and Montpelier, till the end of the seventeenth century, at which period they fell into an almost complete oblivion. Avicenna is conceived, by some modern writers,37 to have shown some power of original thinking in his representations of the Aristotelian Logic and Metaphysics. Averroes (Ebn Roshd) of Cordova, was the most illustrious of the Spanish Aristotelians, and became the guide of the schoolmen,38 being placed by them on a level with Aristotle himself, or above him. He translated Aristotle from the first Syriac version, not being able to read the Greek text. He aspired to, and retained for centuries, the title of the Commentator; and he deserves this title by the servility with which he maintains that Aristotle39 carried the sciences to the highest possible degree, measured their whole extent, and fixed their ultimate and permanent boundaries; although his works are conceived to exhibit a trace of the New Platonism. Some of his writings are directed against an Arabian skeptic, of the name of Algazel, whom we have already noticed.

When the schoolmen had adopted the supremacy of Aristotle to the extent in which Averroes maintained it, their philosophy went further than a system of mere commentation, and became a system of dogmatism; we must, therefore, in another chapter, say a few words more of the Aristotelians in this point of view, before we proceed to the revival of science; but we must previously consider some other features in the character of the Stationary Period. 211

CHAPTER III.

Of the Mysticism of the Middle Ages.

IT has been already several times hinted, that a new and peculiar element was introduced into the Greek philosophy which occupied the attention of the Alexandrian school; and that this element tinged a large portion of the speculations of succeeding ages. We may speak of this peculiar element as Mysticism; for, from the notion usually conveyed by this term, the reader will easily apprehend the general character of the tendency now spoken of; and especially when he sees its effect pointed out in various subjects. Thus, instead of referring the events of the external world to space and time, to sensible connection and causation, men attempted to reduce such occurrences under spiritual and supersensual relations and dependencies; they referred them to superior intelligences, to theological conditions, to past and future events in the moral world, to states of mind and feelings, to the creatures of an imaginary mythology or demonology. And thus their physical Science became Magic, their Astronomy became Astrology, the study of the Composition of bodies became Alchemy, Mathematics became the contemplation of the Spiritual Relations of number and figure, and Philosophy became Theosophy.

The examination of this feature in the history of the human mind is important for us, in consequence of its influence upon the employments and the thoughts of the times now under our notice. This tendency materially affected both men’s speculations and their labours in the pursuit of knowledge. By its direct operation, it gave rise to the newer Platonic philosophy among the Greeks, and to corresponding doctrines among the Arabians; and by calling into a prominent place astrology, alchemy, and magic, it long occupied most of the real observers of the material world. In this manner it delayed and impeded the progress of true science; for we shall see reason to believe that human knowledge lost more by the perversion of men’s minds and the misdirection of their efforts, than it gained by any increase of zeal arising from the peculiar hopes and objects of the mystics.

It is not our purpose to attempt any general view of the progress and fortunes of the various forms of Mystical Philosophy; but only to exhibit some of its characters, in so far as they illustrate those 212 tendencies of thought which accompanied the retrogradation of inductive science. And of these, the leading feature which demands our notice is that already alluded to; namely, the practice of referring things and events, not to clear and distinct relations, obviously applicable to such cases;—not to general rules capable of direct verification; but to notions vague, distant, and vast, which we cannot bring into contact with facts, because they belong to a different region from the facts; as when we connect natural events with moral or historical causes, or seek spiritual meanings in the properties of number and figure. Thus the character of Mysticism is, that it refers particulars, not to generalizations homogeneous and immediate, but to such as are heterogeneous and remote; to which we must add, that the process of this reference is not a calm act of the intellect, but is accompanied with a glow of enthusiastic feeling.

1. Neoplatonic Theosophy.—The Newer Platonism is the first example of this Mystical Philosophy which I shall consider. The main points which here require our notice are, the doctrine of an Intellectual World resulting from the act of the Divine Mind, as the only reality; and the aspiration after the union of the human soul with this Divine Mind, as the object of human existence. The “Ideas” of Plato were Forms of our knowledge; but among the Neoplatonists they became really existing, indeed the only really existing, Objects; and the inaccessible scheme of the universe which these ideas constitute, was offered as the great subject of philosophical contemplation. The desire of the human mind to approach towards its Creator and Preserver, and to obtain a spiritual access to Him, leads to an employment of the thoughts which is well worth the notice of the religious philosopher; but such an effort, even when founded on revelation and well regulated, is not a means of advance in physics; and when it is the mere result of natural enthusiasm, it may easily obtain such a place in men’s minds as to unfit them for the successful prosecution of natural philosophy. The temper, therefore, which introduces such supernatural communion into the general course of its speculations, may be properly treated as mystical, and as one of the causes of the decline of science in the Stationary Period. The Neoplatonic philosophy requires our notice as one of the most remarkable forms of this Mysticism.

Though Ammonius Saccas, who flourished at the end of the second century, is looked upon as the beginner of the Neoplatonists, his disciple Plotinus is, in reality, the great founder of the school, both by his 213 works, which still remain to us, and by the enthusiasm which his character and manners inspired among his followers. He lived a life of meditation, gentleness, and self-denial, and died in the second year of the reign of Claudius (a. d. 270). His disciple, Porphyry, has given us a Life of him, from which we may see how well his habitual manners were suited to make his doctrines impressive. “Plotinus, the philosopher of our time,” Porphyry thus begins his biography, “appeared like a person ashamed that he was in the body. In consequence of this disposition, he could not bear to talk concerning his family, or his parents, or his country. He would not allow himself to be represented by a painter or statuary; and once, when Aurelius entreated him to permit a likeness of him to be taken, he said, ‘Is it not enough for us to carry this image in which nature has enclosed us, but we must also try to leave a more durable image of this image, as if it were so great a sight?’ And he retained the same temper to the last. When he was dying, he said, ‘I am trying to bring the divinity which is in us to the divinity which is in the universe.’” He was looked upon by his successors with extraordinary admiration and reverence; and his disciple Porphyry collected from his lips, or from fragmental notes, the six Enneads of his doctrines (that is, parts each consisting of nine Books), which he arranged and annotated.

We have no difficulty in finding in this remarkable work examples of mystical speculation. The Intelligible World of realities or essences corresponds to the world of sense40 in the classes of things which it includes. To the Intelligible World, man’s mind ascends, by a triple road which Plotinus figuratively calls that of the Musician, the Lover, the Philosopher.41 The activity of the human soul is identified by analogy with the motion of the heavens. “This activity is about a middle point, and thus it is circular; but a middle point is not the same in body and in the soul: in that, the middle point is local; in this, it is that on which the rest depends. There is, however, an analogy; for as in one case, so in the other, there must be a middle point, and as the sphere revolves about its centre, the soul revolves about God through its affections.”

The conclusion of the work is,42 as might be supposed, upon the approach to, union with, and fruition of God. The author refers again to the analogy between the movements of the soul and those of the heavens. “We move round him like a choral dance; even when we 214 look from him we revolve about him: we do not always look at him, but when we do, we have satisfaction and rest, and the harmony which belongs to that divine movement. In this movement, the mind beholds the fountain of life, the fountain of mind, the origin of being, the cause of good, the root of the soul.”43 “There will be a time when this vision shall be continual; the mind being no more interrupted, nor suffering any perturbation from the body. Yet that which beholds is not that which is disturbed; and when this vision becomes dim, it does not obscure the knowledge which resides in demonstration, and faith, and reasoning; but the vision itself is not reason, but greater than reason, and before reason.”44

The fifth book of the third Ennead has for its subject the Dæmon which belongs to each man. It is entitled “Concerning Love;” and the doctrine appears to be, that the Love, or common source of the passions which is in each man’s mind, is “the Dæmon which they say accompanies each man.”45 These dæmons were, however (at least by later writers), invested with a visible aspect and with a personal character, including a resemblance of human passions and motives. It is curious thus to see an untenable and visionary generalization falling back into the domain of the senses and the fancy, after a vain attempt to support itself in the region of the reason. This imagination soon produced pretensions to the power of making these dæmons or genii visible; and the Treatise on the Mysteries of the Egyptians, which is attributed to Iamblichus, gives an account of the secret ceremonies, the mysterious words, the sacrifices and expiations, by which this was to be done.

It is unnecessary for us to dwell on the progress of this school; to point out the growth of the Theurgy which thus arose; or to describe the attempts to claim a high antiquity for this system, and to make Orpheus, the poet, the first promulgator of its doctrines. The system, like all mystical systems, assumed the character rather of religion than of a theory. The opinions of its disciples materially influenced their lives. It gave the world the spectacle of an austere morality, a devotional exaltation, combined with the grossest superstitions of Paganism. The successors of Iamblichus appeared rather to hold a priesthood, than the chair of a philosophical school.46 They were persecuted by Constantine and Constantius, as opponents of Christianity. Sopater, a 215 Syrian philosopher of this school, was beheaded by the former emperor on a charge that he had bound the winds by the power of magic.47 But Julian, who shortly after succeeded to the purple, embraced with ardor the opinions of Iamblichus. Proclus (who died a. d. 487) was one of the greatest of the teachers of this school;48 and was, both in his life and doctrines, a worthy successor of Plotinus, Porphyry, and Iamblichus. We possess a biography, or rather a panegyric of him, by his disciple Marinus, in which he is exhibited as a representation of the ideal perfection of the philosophic character, according to the views of the Neoplatonists. His virtues are arranged as physical, moral, purificatory, theoretic, and theurgic. Even in his boyhood, Apollo and Minerva visited him in his dreams: he studied oratory at Alexandria, but it was at Athens that Plutarch and Lysianus initiated him in the mysteries of the New Platonists. He received a kind of consecration at the hands of the daughter of Plutarch, the celebrated Asclepigenia, who introduced him to the traditions of the Chaldeans, and the practices of theurgy; he was also admitted to the mysteries of Eleusis. He became celebrated for his knowledge and eloquence; but especially for his skill in the supernatural arts which were connected with the doctrines of his sect. He appears before us rather as a hierophant than a philosopher. A large portion of his life was spent in evocations, purifications, fastings, prayers, hymns, intercourse with apparitions, and with the gods, and in the celebration of the festivals of Paganism, especially those which were held in honor of the Mother of the Gods. His religious admiration extended to all forms of mythology. The philosopher, said he, is not the priest of a single religion, but of all the religions of the world. Accordingly, he composed hymns in honor of all the divinities of Greece, Rome, Egypt, Arabia;—Christianity alone was excluded from his favor.