Plotino - Tratado 30,5 (III, 8, 5) — A parte superior da alma contempla

5. He aquí que la generación por parte de la naturaleza constituye realmente una contemplación. Y en cuanto al alma, que es anterior a la naturaleza, diremos lo siguiente: la contemplación que se da en ella, su amor a la ciencia, la investigación que realiza, su mismo dolor para procrear y, en suma, su propia plenitud, hacen que se convierta por entero en objeto de contemplación y que produzca asimismo otro objeto de contemplación. Igual ocurre con la ciencia que, llegada a su particular plenitud, produce un conocimiento más menguado en aquel escolar que recibe una imagen de ella. Los teoremas de esa ciencia aparecen en él más confusos e incapaces de mantenerse por sí mismos.

La parte primera del alma se encuentra en lo alto y siempre próxima a la cima. Permanece allí en un estado de plenitud y de iluminación eternas, participando la primera en lo inteligible. La otra parte, que participa de aquélla, avanza siempre como una vida que procede de otra vida, como una actividad que llega a todas partes y no se encuentra ausente de ninguna. En ese avance suyo, el alma deja su parte superior en el lugar que abandona su parte inferior; porque es claro que si hubiese de prescindir en absoluto de su parte superior no se encontraría ya en todas partes, sino solamente en aquel lugar donde concluye. Sin embargo, lo que ella ha avanzado no es ya igual a lo que permanece. Y si, pues, el alma debe llegar a todas partes y no ha de haber lugar alguno en el que no ejerza su actividad, aunque lo que preceda sea diferente de lo posterior; supuesto, además, que toda actividad proviene de la contemplación o de la acción y que aquí ésta no se da -porque no sería posible que precediese a la contemplación-, hemos de admitir necesariamente que ta contemplación de la parte que procede es más débil que la de la parte que permanece, siendo como es una contemplación. De modo que la acción parece ser realmente una contemplación de suma debilidad, porque conviene siempre que lo engendrado sea del mismo género que lo que engendra, y si es más débil habrá que atribuirlo a la pérdida propia del descenso.

Pero todo esto no produce ruido alguno, dado que el alma no tiene necesidad de objeto aparente y externo para su contemplación o su acción. Como alma que es contempla, bien que su parte contemplativa más externa no sea capaz de producir lo que viene después, de la misma manera que lo hace la parte superior. Mas, si es contemplación, ha de producir nna contemplación. Porque no hay límite que pueda oponerse tanto a la contemplación como a su objeto. Y esto, ¿ocurre también aquí? Sin duda, -puesto que se da en todas partes. ¿Dónde, en efecto, no se daría? En toda alma acontece lo mismo, porque sabemos que no está limitada en su magnitud. Pero, en verdad, no es así en todas las demás cosas ni, ciertamente, en todas las partes del alma. Dice (Platón) que "el auriga hace partícipe a los caballos de lo que él ha visto" [1] , y, desde luego, los caballos lo aceptan y sienten verdaderamente el deseo de lo que han visto, porque no lo han contemplado en su totalidad. Actúan entonces movidos por este deseo y su acción queda condicionada por el objeto al que tienden. Mas este objeto es un objeto de contemplación y la contemplación misma.

V. Quand on agit, c’est pour contempler et pour posséder l’objet contemplé. La pratique a donc pour fin la contemplation. Ce qu’elle ne peut atteindre directement, elle tâche de l’obtenir par une voie détournée. Il en est de même quand on atteint l’objet de ses vœux : ce qu’on souhaite» ce n’est pas de posséder l’objet de ses vœux sans le connaître, c’est au contraire de le connaître à fond, de le voir présent en son âme et de pouvoir l’y contempler. En effet, c’est toujours en vue du bien qu’on agit: on veut l’avoir intérieurement, se l’approprier et trouver dans sa possession le résultat de son action ; or, comme on ne peut posséder le bien que par l’âme, l’action nous ramène encore ici à la contemplation. Puisque l’âme est une raison, ce qu’elle est capable de posséder ne saurait être qu’une raison silencieuse, d’autant plus silencieuse qu’elle est plus raison : car la raison parfaite ne cherche plus rien : elle se repose dans l’évidence de ce dont elle est remplie ; plus l’évidence est complète, plus la contemplation est calme, plus elle ramène l’âme à l’unité. En effet, dans l’acte de la connaissance (et nous parlons ici sérieusement), il y a identité entre le sujet connaissant et l’objet connu. S’ils faisaient deux choses, ils seraient différents, étrangers l’un à l’autre, sans véritable liaison, comme les raisons [sont étrangères à l’âme] quand elles y sommeillent sans être y aperçues. La raison ne doit donc pas rester étrangère à l’âme qui apprend, mais lui être unie, lui devenir propre. Donc, quand l’âme s’est approprié une raison et s’est familiarisée avec elle, elle la tire en quelque sorte de son sein pour l’examiner. Elle remarque ainsi la chose qu’elle possédait [sans le savoir], s’en distingue en l’examinant, et, par la conception qu’elle s’en forme, la considère comme une chose étrangère à elle-même : car, quoique l’âme soit elle-même une raison et une espèce d’intelligence, cependant, quand elle considère une chose, elle la considère comme distincte d’elle-même, parce qu’elle ne possède pas la plénitude véritable et qu’elle est défectueuse à l’égard de son principe [qui est l’intelligence]. Elle considère d’ailleurs avec calme ce qu’elle tire d’elle-même : car elle ne tire pas d’elle-même ce dont elle n’avait pas déjà quelque notion. Si d’ailleurs elle tire quelque chose de son sein, c’est qu’elle en avait une vue incomplète et qu’elle veut le connaître. Dans ses actes [tels que la sensation], elle adapte aux objets extérieurs les raisons qu’elle possède . D’un côté, comme elle possède [les intelligibles] mieux que la nature, elle est aussi plus calme et en même temps plus contemplative ; d’un autre côté, comme elle ne possède pas parfaitement [les intelligibles], elle désire plus [que l’intelligence] avoir de l’objet qu’elle contemple cette connaissance et cette contemplation qu’on acquiert d’un objet en l’examinant. Après s’être écartée de sa partie supérieure et avoir parcouru [par la raison discursive] la série des différences, elle revient à elle-même, et se livre de nouveau à la contemplation par sa partie supérieure [l’intelligence], dont elle s’était écartée [pour considérer les différences] : car cette partie ne s’occupe pas des différences, parce qu’elle demeure en elle-même. Aussi l’esprit sage est-il identique avec la raison et possède-t-il en lui-même ce qu’il découvre aux autres. Il se contemple lui-même; il est arrivé à l’unité non-seulement par rapport aux objets extérieurs, mais encore par rapport à lui-même ; il se repose dans cette unité et il trouve toutes choses en son propre sein.

THE PROCESSION OF THE WORLD-SOUL.

5. (4). After having spoken of nature, and having explained how generation is a sort of contemplation, let us pass to the Soul that occupies a rank superior to nature. This is what we have to say about her. By her contemplative action, by her ardent desire to learn and to discover, by the fruitfulness of her knowledge, and her resulting need to produce, the Soul, her totality having become an object of contemplation, gave birth to some other object; just as science, on fructifying, by instruction begets a lesser science in the soul of the young disciple who possesses the images of all things, but only in the state of obscure theories, of feeble speculations, which are incapable of self-sufficiency. The higher and rational part of the Soul ever dwells in the higher region of the intelligible world, and is, by this intelligible world, ever illuminated and fructified; while the lower ("natural and generative power") participates in what the superior part has received, by immediately participating in the intelligible ; for life ever proceeds from life, and its actualization extends to everything, and is present everywhere. In her procession, the universal Soul allows her superior part to remain in the intelligible world; for, if she detached herself from this superior part, she would no longer be present everywhere; she would subsist only in her lower extremities. Besides, the part of the Soul that thus proceeds out of the intelligible world is inferior to what remains within it. Therefore, if the Soul must be present and must assert her sphere of activity everywhere, and if !Hat which occupies the superior rank differs from that which occupies the inferior; if, besides, her activity proceeds either from contemplation or action — though indeed originally from contemplation — because contemplation precedes the action which could not exist without contemplation; in this state of affairs, though one actualization would be weaker than another, yet it would ever remain a contemplation, so that the action derived from contemplation seems to be no more than a weakened contemplation; for that which is begotten must always remain consubstantial with its generating principle, though weaker, since of lower rank. All things therefore silently proceed from the Soul, because they stand in no need of either contemplation or exterior visible action. Thus the Soul contemplates, and the contemplating part of the Soul, being somehow located outside of the superior part, and being different therefrom, produces what is below it; thus it is that contemplation begets contemplation. No more than its object is contemplation limited below; that is why it extends to everything. Where is it not? Every soul contains the same object of contemplation. This object, without being circumscribed as a magnitude, does not equally inhere in all beings; consequently, it is not present in the same way to all parts of the Soul. That is why Plato says that the charioteer of the soul communicates to his horses what he has seen. The latter receive something from him only because they desire to possess what he has seen; for they have not received the entire intelligible (world). Though they act because of a desire, they act only in view of what they desire; that is, in view of contemplation, and of its object.

[V] Since then we have considered in what manner the fabrication of nature is a certain contemplation, let us next proceed to that soul which is superior to nature; for the contemplation of this soul, its ingenuity, its desire of learning and inquiry, and besides all this, a certain stimulus arising from its knowledge, produces a parturient and abundant fecundity, so that becoming a spectacle throughout it generates another spectacle, in the same manner as art operates, when full of speculative forms it produces, as it were, a small art in a child, who possesses an image of all things, but in a different manner from his preceptor art; since he retains only obscure and debile spectacles incapable from the beginning of assisting themselves. The rational and supreme part therefore of this soul abides on high, ever filled and illustrated with supernal good; but its other part participates of that which it participated from the first in the first participation; for life always proceeds from life, since energy runs through all things, and is not absent from any part of the universe, but in its progress it permits its prior part to abide in its pristine state; for if it entirely lost its principal part, energy would no longer be every where, but only in that in which it ends: nor is energy in progression equal to energy in a permanent state. If then it is necessary energy should be generated through all things, it is also necessary that no place should be found where energy is not present: but prior energy is always different from that which is posterior. Energy too proceeds either from contemplation or action, but first from contemplation before action had a being, for action could not be prior to contemplation. If this be the case, it is necessary that one energy should be more debile than another, but that each should be a contemplation; so that every action subsisting according to contemplation, appears to be nothing else than a certain debile speculation; for it is always necessary that whatever is generated should be homogeneous, yet so as to become gradually more infirm and debile by its descent. Indeed all things proceed in a beautiful and quiet order, because they do not require either contemplation or action extrinsically appearing. The intellectual soul of the world contemplates indeed a sublime spectacle, and that which she thus contemplates, because it rises higher than soul, generates that which is posterior to itself, and thus contemplation begets contemplation, so that neither has speculation or spectacle any bound, and on this account they proceed through all things. For what should hinder their diffusion through all things? since in every soul there is the same spectacle; for it is not circumscribed by magnitude, nor yet abides after the same manner in all, and consequently does not subsist after the same manner in every part of the soul. Hence, according to Plato, the charioteer of the soul imparts to the horses that which he sees, which the horses receive as desirous of the things they perceive, for they do not receive the whole; because if they operate according to desire they operate for the sake of what they desire, and this is itself a spectacle and speculation.

5. This discussion of Nature has shown us how the origin of things is a Contemplation: we may now take the matter up to the higher Soul; we find that the Contemplation pursued by this, its instinct towards knowing and enquiring, the birth pangs set up by the knowledge it attains, its teeming fullness, have caused it — in itself, all one object of Vision — to produce another Vision [that of the Kosmos]: it is just as a given science, complete in itself, becomes the source and cause of what might be called a minor science in the student who attains to some partial knowledge of all its divisions. But the visible objects and the objects of intellectual contemplation of this later creation are dim and helpless by the side of the content of the Soul.

The primal phase of the Soul — inhabitant of the Supreme and, by its participation in the Supreme, filled and illuminated — remains unchangeably There; but in virtue of that first participation, that of the primal participant, a secondary phase also participates in the Supreme, and this secondary goes forth ceaselessly as Life streaming from Life; for energy runs through the Universe and there is no extremity at which it dwindles out. But, travel as far as it may, it never draws that first part of itself from the place whence the outgoing began: if it did, it would no longer be everywhere [its continuous Being would be broken and] it would be present at the end, only, of its course.

None the less that which goes forth cannot be equal to that which remains.

In sum, then:

The Soul is to extend throughout the Universe, no spot void of its energy: but, a prior is always different from its secondary, and energy is a secondary, rising as it must from contemplation or act; act, however, is not at this stage existent since it depends upon contemplation: therefore the Soul, while its phases differ, must, in all of them, remain a contemplation and what seems to be an act done under contemplation must be in reality that weakened contemplation of which we have spoken: the engendered must respect the Kind, but in weaker form, dwindled in the descent.

All goes softly since nothing here demands the parade of thought or act upon external things: it is a Soul in vision and, by this vision, creating its own subsequent — this Principle [of Nature], itself also contemplative but in the feebler degree since it lies further away and cannot reproduce the quality or experiences of its prior — a Vision creates the Vision.

[Such creative contemplation is not inexplicable] for no limit exists either to contemplation or to its possible objects, and this explains how the Soul is universal: where can this thing fail to be, which is one identical thing in every Soul; Vision is not cabined within the bournes of magnitude.

This, of course, does not mean that the Soul is present at the same strength in each and every place and thing — any more than that it is at the same strength in each of its own phases.

The Charioteer [the Leading Principle of the Soul, in the Phaedrus   Myth] gives the two horses [its two dissonant faculties] what he has seen and they, taking that gift, showed that they were hungry for what made that vision; there was something lacking to them: if in their desire they acted, their action aimed at what they craved for — and that was vision, and an object of vision.