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Guthrie-Plotinus: perpetual

quinta-feira 1º de fevereiro de 2024, por Cardoso de Castro

  

(e.) (No body could subsist without the power of the universal soul.) Besides no body could subsist without the power of the universal Soul (from Numenius). Every body, indeed, is in a perpetual flow and movement (as thought Heraclitus  , in Plato, Cratylus  ), and the world would soon perish if it contained nothing but bodies, even if some one of them were to be called soul; for such a soul, being composed of the same matter as the other bodies, would undergo the same fate that they do; or rather, there would not even be any body, everything would remain in the condition of shapeless matter, since there would exist no principle to fashion it. Why, there would not even be any matter, and the universe would be annihilated to nothingness, if the care of keeping its parts united were entrusted to some body which would have nothing but the name of soul, as for instance, to air, or a breath without cohesion, which could not be one, by itself. As all bodies are divisible, if the universe depended on a body, it would be deprived of intelligence and given up to chance. How, indeed, could there be any order in a spirit which itself would need to receive order from a soul? How could this spirit contain reason and intelligence? On the hypothesis of the existence of the soul, all these elements serve to constitute the body of the world, and of every animal, because all different bodies together work for the end of all; but without the soul, there is no order, and even nothing exists any more. [Ennead IV,7 (2) 3]

Are the notions of virtue, and other intelligible entities by the soul thought eternal, or does virtue arise and perish? If so, by what being, and how will it be formed? It is the same problem that remains to be solved. Intelligible entities must therefore be eternal and immutable, like geometrical notions, and consequently cannot be corporeal. Further, the subject in whom they exist must be of a nature similar to theirs, and therefore not be corporeal; for the nature of body is not to remain immutable, but to be in a perpetual flow. [Ennead IV,7 (2) 8]

In this choric ballet, the soul sees the source of life, the source of intelligence, the principle of being, the cause of the good, and the root of love. All these entities are derived from the One without diminishing Him. He is indeed no corporeal mass; otherwise the things that are born of Him would be perishable. However, they are eternal, because their principle ever remains the same, because He does not divide Himself to produce them, but remains entire. They persist, just as the light persists so long as the sun remains. Nor are we separated from the One; we are not distant from Him, though corporeal nature, by approaching us, has attracted us to it (thus drawing us away from the One). But it is in the One that we breathe and have our being. He gave us life not merely at a given moment, only to leave us later; but His giving is perpetual, so long as He remains what He is, or rather, so long as we turn towards Him. There it is that we find happiness, while to withdraw from Him is to fall. It is in Him that our soul rests; it is by rising to that place free from all evil that she is delivered from evils; there she really thinks, there she is impassible, there she really lives. Our present life, in which we are not united with the divinity, is only a trace or adumbration of real life. Real life (which is presence with the divinity) is the actualization of intelligence. It is this actualization of intelligence which begets the divinities by a sort of silent intercourse with the One; thereby begetting beauty, justice and virtue. These are begotten by the soul that is filled with divinity. In Him is her principle and goal; her principle, because it is from there that she proceeds; her goal, because there is the good to which she aspires, so that by returning thither she again becomes what she was. Life here below, in the midst of sense-objects, is for the soul a degradation, an exile, a loss of her wings. [Ennead VI,9 (9) 9]

Heraclitus also taught the eternal and intelligible One; for Heraclitus holds that bodies are ceaselessly “becoming” (that is, developing), and that they are in a perpetual state of flux. [Ennead V,1 (10) 9]

To this it may first be answered that the indeterminate should not be scorned everywhere, nor that which is conceived of as shapeless, even if this be the substrate of the higher and better entities; for we might call even the soul indeterminate, in respect to intelligence and reason, which give it a better shape and nature. Besides, when we say that intelligible things are composite (of matter and form), this is not in the sense in which the word is used of bodies. Even reasons would thus be called composite, and by their actualization form another alleged composite, nature, which aspires to form. If, in the intelligible world, the composite tend toward some other principle, or depend thereon, the difference between this composite and bodies is still better marked. Besides, the matter of begotten things ceaselessly changes form, while the matter of the intelligible entities ever remains identical. Further, matter here below is subject to other conditions (than in the intelligible world). Here below, indeed, matter is all things only partly, and is all things only successively; consequently, amidst these perpetual changes nothing is identical, nothing is permanent. Above, on the contrary, matter is all things simultaneously, and possessing all things, could not transform itself. Consequently, matter is never shapeless above; for it is not even shapeless here below. Only the one (intelligible matter) is situated differently from the other (sense-matter). Whether, however, (intelligible matter) be begotten, or be eternal, is a question that cannot be determined until we know what it is. [Ennead II,4 (12) 3]

Let us proceed to the objection drawn from the heat that remains after the withdrawal of the fire. The heat is not the image of the fire, or at least, we may deny that there is always fire in heat; but even so heat would not be independent of fire. Besides, when you withdraw from a body the fire that heats it, this body grows cold, if not instantaneously, at least gradually. It would, however, be wrong to say that the powers that descend here below also gradually grow extinct; for this would amount to stating that only the One is immortal, while the souls and intelligences are mortal. Besides, it is not reasonable to admit that even the things that derive from a “being” that wastes away also gradually exhaust themselves; for even if you should immobilize the sun, it would still shed the same light in the same places. If it were objected that it would not be the same light, the conclusion would be (the absurdity) that the body of the sun is in a perpetual wastage. Last we have elsewhere demonstrated at length that what proceeds from the One does not perish, but that all souls and intelligences are immortal. [Ennead VI,4 (22) 10]

Let us return to our subject. We were seeking how we might attain the Good with our souls. The Good that you attain is not different from the one that I myself attain; it is the same. And when I say that it is the same, I do not mean that from the Good descended upon us both different things, so that the Good would remain somewhere on high, while His gifts descended down here; on the contrary, I mean that He who gives is present to those who receive, so that these may veritably receive; I mean besides that He gives His gifts to beings who are intimately united with Him, and not to beings who might be foreign to Him; for intellectual gifts cannot be communicated in a local manner. One even sees different bodies, in spite of the distance that separates them, receiving the same gifts, because the gift granted, and the effect produced tend to the same result; much more, all the actions and passions which produce themselves in the body of the universe are contained within it, and nothing comes to it from without. Now if a body, which by its nature as it were scatters itself (because it is in a perpetual flowing wastage), nevertheless, receives nothing from without, how would a being that has no extension retain nothing from without, how would a being that has no extension retain something from without? Consequently, as all are contained in one and the same Principle, we see the good, and we altogether touch it by the intelligible part of our nature. [Ennead VI,5 (23) 10]

How can the intelligible, which has no extension, penetrate into the whole body of the universe, which has no such extension? How does it remain single and identical, and how does it not split up? This question has been raised several times, and we sought to answer it, so as to leave no uncertainty. We have often demonstrated that the things are thus; nevertheless, it will be well to give some further convincing proofs, although we have already given the strongest demonstration, and the most evident one, by teaching the quality of the nature of the intelligible, explaining that it is not a vast mass, some enormous stone which, located in space, might be said to occupy an extension determined by its own magnitude, and would be incapable of going beyond its limits; for its mass and its power would be measured by its own nature, which is that of a stone. (The intelligible Essence, on the contrary,) being the primary nature, has no extension that is limited or measured, because it itself is the measure of the sense-nature; and because it is the universal power without any determinate magnitude. Nor is it within time, because the time is continually divided into intervals, while eternity dwells in its own identity, dominating and surpassing time by its perpetual power, though this seemed to have an unlimited course. Time may be compared to a line which, while extending indefinitely, ever depends from a point, and turns around it; so, that, into whatever place it advances, it always reveals the immovable point around which it moves in a circle. If, by nature, time be in the same relation (as is this line with its centre), and if the identical Essence be infinite by its power as well as by its eternity, by virtue of its infinite power it will have to produce a nature which would in some way be parallel to this infinite power, which rises with it, and depends from it, and which finally, by the movable course of time, tries to equal this power which remains movable in itself. But then even this power of the intelligible Essence remains superior to the universe, because the former determines the extension of the latter. [Ennead VI,5 (23) 11]

This may be seen still more clearly by considering how this double nature shows itself in all that thinks in a clearer manner. We assert that all essences, as such, that all things that are by themselves, and that possess true existence, are located in the intelligible world. This happens not only because they always remain the same, while sense-objects are in a perpetual flow and change — although, indeed, there are sense-objects (such as the stars), that remain the same — but rather because they, by themselves, possess the perfection of their existence. The so-called primary “being” must possess an existence which is more than an adumbration of existence, and which is complete existence. Now existence is complete when its form is thought and life. Primary “being,” therefore, will simultaneously contain thought, existence and life. Thus the existence of essence will imply that of intelligence; and that of intelligence, that of essence; so that thought is inseparable from existence, and is manifold instead of being one. That which is not manifold (the One), cannot, therefore, think. In the intelligible world, we find Man, and the thought of man, Horse and the thought of horse, the Just Man and the thought of the just man; everything in it is duality; even the unity within it is duality, and in it duality passes into unity. The First is neither all things that imply duality, nor any of them; it contains no duality whatever. [Ennead V,6 (24) 6]

That no doubt was the meaning of those ancient sages who in mysteries and initiations symbolically represented the “ancient Hermes” with the generative organ in erection, to teach that it is intelligible reason that begets sense-objects. On the other hand, these same sages signify the sterility of matter, condemned to perpetual self-identity, by the eunuchs who surround Rhea, making of it the mother of all things, to use the expression they employ in designating the principle that plays the part of substrate. [Ennead III,6 (26) 19]

Doubtless we will have to acknowledge that there are affections which pass from the body into the soul; but there are also affections which belong exclusively to the soul, because the soul is a real being, with characteristic nature and activities. In this case, the soul must have desires, and recall them, remembering that they have, or have not been satisfied; because, by her nature, she does not form part of the things which are (as Heraclitus said) in a perpetual flow. Otherwise, we could not attribute to the soul coenesthesia (or, common feeling), conscience, reflection, or the intuition of herself. If she did not possess them by her nature, she would not acquire them by union with the body. Doubtless there are activities which the soul cannot carry out without the assistance of the organs; but she herself possesses the faculties (or “powers”) from which these activities are outgrowths. Besides, she, by herself, possesses other faculties, whose operations are derived from her alone. Among these is memory, whose exercise is only hindered by the body. Indeed, when the soul unites with the body, she forgets; when she separates from the body, and purifies herself, she often recovers memory. Since the soul possesses memory when she is alone, the body, with its changeable nature, that is ever subject to a perpetual flow, is a cause of forgetfulness, and not of memory; the body therefore is, for the soul, the stream of Lethe (or forgetfulness). To the soul alone, therefore, belongs memory. [Ennead IV,3 (27) 26]

What would be the nature of a world better than the present one, if it were possible? The present one must be a faithful image of the intelligible world, if the existence of the world be necessary, and if there be no better possible world. The whole earth is peopled with animate and even immortal beings; from here below up to the heaven (the world) is full of them. Why should the stars in the highest sphere (the fixed stars), and those in the lower spheres (the planets), not be divinities, in view of their regular motion, and their carrying out a magnificent revolution around the world? Why should they not possess virtue? What obstacle could hinder them from acquiring it? Not on high are found the things which here below make men evil; namely, that evil nature which both is troubled, and troubles. With their perpetual leisure why should not the stars possess intelligence, and be acquainted with the divinity and all the other intelligible deities? How should we possess a wisdom greater than theirs? Only a foolish man would entertain such thoughts. How could our souls be superior to the stars when at the hands of the universal Soul they undergo the constraint of descending here below? For the best part of souls is that which commands. If, on the contrary, the souls descend here below voluntarily, why should the (Gnostics) find fault with this sphere whither they came voluntarily, and from which they can depart whenever it suits them? That everything here below depends on the intelligible principles is proved by the fact that the organization of the world is such that, during this life, we are able to acquire wisdom, and live out a life similar to that of the divinities. [Ennead II,9 (33) 8]

How can infinity subsist in the intelligible world? Either it exists among the genuine essences, and then is determined; or it is not determined, and then it does not exist among the veritable essences, but it must be classified among the things which exist in perpetual becoming, such as time. The infinite is determinate, but it is not any the less infinite; for it is not the limit which receives the determination, but the infinite; and between the boundary and the infinite there is no intermediary that could receive the determination. This infinite acts as if it were the idea of the boundary, but it is contained by what embraces it exteriorly. When I say that it flees, I do not mean that it passes from one locality to another, for it has no locality; but I mean that space has existed from the very moment that this infinite was embraced. We must not imagine that what is called the movement of the infinite consists in a displacement, nor admit that the infinite by itself possesses any other of the things that could be named; thus the infinite could neither move, nor remain still. Where indeed would it halt, since the place indicated by the word “where” is posterior to infinity? Movement is attributed to infinity only to explain that the infinite has no permanency. Should we believe that the infinite exists on high in one only and single place, or that it arises there, and descends here below? No: for it is in respect to one only and single place that we are enabled to conceive both what has risen and does not descend, as well as that which descends. [Ennead VI,6 (34) 3]

Might happiness not be the satisfaction of the desire of living and activity, inasmuch as this desire is ever present with us? (Hardly). First, according to this hypothesis, the happiness of to-morrow would ever be greater than that of to-day, and that of the following day than that of the day before, and so on to infinity. In this case, the measure of happiness would no longer be virtue (but duration). Then, the beatitude of the divinities will also have to become greater from day to day; it would no longer be perfect, and could never become so. Besides, desire finds its satisfaction in the possession of what is present, both now, and in the future. So long as these present circumstances exist, their possession constitutes happiness. Further, as the desire of living can be no more than the desire to exist, the latter desire can refer to the present only, inasmuch as real existence (essence) inheres only in the present. Desire for a future time, or for some later event, means no more than a desire to preserve what one already possesses. Desire refers neither to the future nor the past, but to what exists at present. What is sought is not a perpetual progression in the future, but the enjoyment of what exists from the present moment onward. [Ennead I,5 (36) 2]

It might be objected that it is inconsistent to consider the present only, exclusive of the past (as in the case of happiness), when we do not do so in respect of time. For the addition of past to present unquestionably lengthens time. If then we may properly say that time becomes longer, why may we not say the same of happiness? — Were we to do so, we would be applying happiness to divisions of time, while it is precisely to bring out the indivisibility of happiness that it is considered to be measured by the present exclusively. While considering time, in respect of things that have vanished, such as, for instance, the dead, it is perfectly reasonable to reckon the past; but it would be unreasonable to compare past happiness with present happiness in respect to duration, because it would be treating happiness as something accidental and temporary. Whatever might be the length of time that preceded the present, all that can be said of it is, that it is no more. To regard duration while considering happiness is to try to disperse and fraction something that is one and indivisible, something that exists only in the present. That is why time is called an image of eternity, inasmuch as it tends to destroy eternity’s permanence through its own dispersion. By abstracting permanence from eternity, and appropriating it, time destroys eternity; for a short period, permanence may survive in association with time; but as soon as it becomes fused with it, eternity perishes. Now as happiness consists in the enjoyment of a life that is good, namely in that which is proper to Essence (in itself), because none better exists, it must, instead of time, have, as a measure, eternity itself, a principle which admits neither increase nor diminution, which cannot be compared to any length, whose nature it is to be indivisible, and superior to time. No comparison, therefore, should be instituted between essence and non-essence, eternity and time, the perpetual and the eternal; nor should extension be predicated of the indivisible. If we regard existence of Essence in itself, it will be necessary to regard it entire; to consider it, not as the perpetuity of time, but as the very life of eternity, a life which instead of consisting of a series of centuries, exists entire since all centuries. [Ennead I,5 (36) 7]

Since all things have been embellished by Him who is above them, and have received their light from Him; since Intelligence derives from Him the splendor of its intellectual actualization; by which splendor it illuminates nature; since from Him also the soul derives her vital power, because she finds in Him an abundant source of life; consequently, Intelligence has risen to Him, and has remained attached to Him, satisfied in the bliss of His presence; consequently also the soul, to the utmost of her ability, turned towards Him, for, as soon as she has known Him and seen Him, she was, by her contemplation, filled with bliss; and, so far as she could see Him, she was overwhelmed with reverence. She could not see Him without being impressed with the feeling that she had within herself something of Him; it was this disposition of hers that led her to desire to see Him, as the image of some lovable object makes one wish to be able to contemplate it oneself. Here below, lovers   try to resemble the beloved object, to render their body more gracious, to conform their soul to their model, by temperance and the other virtues to remain as little inferior as possible to Him whom they love, for fear of being scorned by Him; and thus they succeed in enjoying intimacy with Him. Likewise, the soul loves the Good, because, from the very beginning she is provoked to love Him. When she is ready to love, she does not wait for the beauties here below to give her the reminiscence of the Good; full of love, even when she does not know what she possesses, she is ever seeking; and inflamed with the desire to rise to the Good, she scorns the things here below. Considering the beauties presented by our universe, she suspects that they are deceptive, because she sees them clothed upon with flesh, and united to our bodies, soiled by the matter where they reside, divided by extension, and she does not recognize them as real beauties, for she cannot believe that the latter could plunge into the mire of these bodies, soiling and obscuring themselves. Last, when the soul observes that the beauties here below are in a perpetual flux, she clearly recognizes that they derive this splendor with which they shine, from elsewhere. Then she rises to the intelligible world; being capable of discovering what she loves, she does not stop before having found it, unless she be made to lose her love. Having arrived there, she contemplates all the true beauties, the true realities; she refreshes herself by filling herself up with the life proper to essence. She herself becomes genuine essence. She fuses with the Intelligible which she really possesses, and in its presence she has the feeling (of having found) what she was seeking so long. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 31]

Nothing will be explained by the perfectly true (Stoic) statement that the world, as corporeal being that ever existed and that will ever exist, is indebted for the cause of its perpetuity to the volition of the divinity. We might find an analogy between the change of the elements, and the death of animals without the perishing of the form of the species here below, and the universe above, whose body is subject to a perpetual flux and flow. Thus the divine volition could preserve for it the same specific form in spite of successive alterations, so that, without perpetually retaining numerical unity, it would ever preserve the specific unity of form. It would indeed be a remarkable discrepancy in the methods of nature that here below in animals the form alone should be perpetual, while in the heaven and the stars their individuality should be considered as perpetual as their form. [Ennead II,1 (40) 1]

The incorruptibility of the heaven has been ascribed to its containing within its breast all things, and to the non-existence of any other thing into which it could change, as well as to the impossibility of its meeting anything exterior that could destroy it. These theories would indeed, in a reasonable manner, explain the incorruptibility of heaven considered as totality, and universe; but would fail to explain the perpetuity of the sun and of the other stars which are parts of heaven, instead of being the whole universe, as is the heaven. It would seem more reasonable that, just like the fire and similar things, the stars, and the world considered as universe would possess a perpetuity chiefly of form. It is quite possible that the heaven, without meeting any destructive exterior thing, should be subjected to a perpetual destruction such that it would preserve nothing identical but the form, from the mere mutual destruction of its parts. In this case its substrate, being in a perpetual flux, would receive its form from some other principle; and we would be driven to recognize in the universal living Organism what occurs in man, in the horse, and in other animals; namely, that the man or horse (considered as species) lasts forever, while the individual changes. (According to this view, then) the universe will not be constituted by one ever permanent part, the heaven, and another ceaselessly changing one, composed of terrestrial things. All these things will then be subject to the same condition though they might differ by longer or shorter duration, since celestial bodies are more durable. Such a conception of the perpetuity characteristic of the universe and its parts contains less ambiguity (than the popular notion), and would be freed from all doubt if we were to demonstrate that the divine power is capable of containing the universe in this manner. The theory that the world contains something perpetual in its individuality would demand not only a demonstration that the divine volition can produce such an effect, but also an explanation why certain things (according to that theory) are always identical (in form and individuality), while other things are identical only by their form. If the parts of the heaven alone remained identical (by their individuality), all other things also should logically remain (individually) identical. [Ennead II,1 (40) 1]

An admission that the heaven and the stars are perpetual in their individuality, while sublunary things are perpetual only in their form, would demand demonstration that a corporeal being can preserve its individuality as well as its form, even though the nature of bodies were a continual fluctuation. Such is the nature that the physical philosophers, and even Plato himself, attribute not only to sublunar bodies, but even to celestial ones. “For,” asks (Plato), “how could corporeal and visible objects subsist ever immutable and identical with themselves?” (Plato) therefore admits the opinion of Heraclitus that “the sun itself is in a state of perpetual becoming (or, growth).” [Ennead II,1 (40) 2]

(It might however be objected) that the body of the world could not contribute to the immortality of the world, since the body itself fluctuates perpetually. But this fluctuation does not take place in an outward direction, while the body (of the world) remains ever the same because this fluctuation occurs so entirely within the world that nothing issues therefrom. The world therefore could neither increase nor diminish, nor further grow old. (As proof of this we may) consider how, from all eternity, the earth constantly preserves the same shape and mass; similarly, the air never diminishes, any more than the water. The changes within them do not affect the universal living Organism. Even we human beings subsist a long while, in spite of the perpetual change of our constituent parts, and though some of these parts even issue from the body. So much the more will the world’s nature, from which nothing issues, sufficiently harmonize with the nature of the universal Soul to form along with her an organism which ever remains the same, and subsists for ever. [Ennead II,1 (40) 3]

We have elsewhere shown that it would be absurd to suppose that the world ever had a beginning. This however implies that it will never cease to exist. Why indeed should it not continue to do so? Its component elements are not, like wood, and similar things, exposed to wastage. Their continued subsistence, however, implies that the universe that they form must also ever subsist. On the other hand, even if they were subject to a perpetual change, the universe must still subsist because the principle of this change subsists continually. Moreover, it has elsewhere been shown that the universal Soul is not subject to repentance, because she governs the universe without difficulties or fatigue, and that even in the impossible case that the body of the universe should happen to perish, she would not thereby be altered. [Ennead II,1 (40) 4]

First let us consider what mundane name “Being” must be applied to. To begin with, it must be explained that physical nature can receive the name of “being” only as a figure of speech; or rather, should not receive it at all, since it implies the idea of perpetual flowing (that is, change); so, the more suitable denomination would be “generation.” We shall also have to acknowledge that the things that belong to generation are very different; nevertheless all bodies, some simple (such, as elements), the others composite as mixtures), together with their accidents and effects, must, during the process of classification, be reduced to a single genus. [Ennead VI,3 (44) 2]

When saying that eternity and time differ, that eternity refers to perpetual existence, and time to what “becomes” (this visible world), we are speaking off-hand, spontaneously, intuitionally, and common language supports these forms of expression. When however we try to define our conceptions thereof in greater detail, we become embarrassed; the different opinions of ancient philosophers, and often even the same opinions, are interpreted differently. We however shall limit ourselves to an examination of these opinions, and we believe that we can fulfil our task of answering all questions by explaining the teachings of the ancient philosophers, without starting any minute disquisition of our own. We do indeed insist that some of these ancient philosophers, these blessed men have achieved the truth. It remains only to decide which of them have done so, and how we ourselves can grasp their thought. [Ennead III,7 (45) 1]

What then is that thing by virtue of which the intelligible world is eternal and perpetual? Of what does perpetuity consist? Either perpetuity and eternity are identical, or eternity is related to perpetuity. Evidently, however, eternity consists in an unity, but in an unity formed by multiple elements, in a conception of nature derived from intelligible entities, or which is united to them, or is perceived in them, so that all these intelligible entities form an unity, though this unity be at the same time manifold in nature and powers. Thus contemplating the manifold power of the intelligible world, we call “being” its substrate; movement its life; rest its permanence; difference the manifoldness of its principles; and identity, their unity. Synthesizing these principles, they fuse into one single life, suppressing their difference, considering the inexhaustible duration, the identity and immutability of their action, of their life and thought, for which there is neither change nor interval. The contemplation of all these entities constitutes the contemplation of eternity; and we see a life that is permanent in its identity, which ever possesses all present things, which does not contain them successively, but simultaneously; whose manner of existence is not different at various times, but whose perfection is consummate and indivisible. It therefore contains all things at the same time, as in a single point, without any of them draining off; it resides in identity, that is, within itself, undergoing no change. Ever being in the present, because it never lost anything, and will never acquire anything, it is always what it is. Eternity is not intelligible existence; it is the (light) that radiates from this existence, whose identity completely excludes the future and admits nothing but present existence, which remains what it is, and does not change. [Ennead III,7 (45) 3]

That this is the state of affairs appears when, on applying one’s intelligence to the contemplation of some of the intelligible Entities, it becomes possible to assert, or rather, to see that it is absolutely incapable of ever having undergone any change; otherwise, it would not always exist; or rather, it would not always exist entirely. Is it thus perpetual? Doubtless; its nature is such that one may recognize that it is always such as it is, and that it could never be different in the future; so that, should one later on again contemplate it, it will be found similar to itself (unchanged). Therefore, if we should never cease from contemplation, if we should ever remain united thereto while admiring its nature, and if in that actualization we should show ourselves indefatigable, we would succeed in raising ourselves to eternity; but, to be as eternal as existence, we must not allow ourselves to be in anyway distracted from contemplating eternity, and eternal nature in the eternal itself. If that which exists thus be eternal, and exists ever, evidently that which never lowers itself to an inferior nature; which possesses life in its fulness, without ever having received, receiving, or being about to receive anything; this nature would be “aidion,” or perpetual. Perpetuity is the property constitutive of such a substrate; being of it, and in it. Eternity is the substrate in which this property manifests. Consequently reason dictates that eternity is something venerable, identical with the divinity. We might even assert that the age (“aion,” or eternity) is a divinity that manifests within itself, and outside of itself in its immutable and identical existence, in the permanence of its life. Besides, there is nothing to surprise any one if in spite of that we assert a manifoldness in the divinity. Every intelligible entity is manifoldness because infinite in power, infinite in the sense that it lacks nothing; it exercises this privilege peculiarly because it is not subject to losing anything. [Ennead III,7 (45) 5]

Thus, the extension of the life of the soul produces time, and the perpetual progression of her life produces the perpetuity of time, and her former life constitutes the past. We may therefore properly define time as the life of the soul considered in the movement by which she passes from one actualization to another. [Ennead III,7 (45) 11]

We would acknowledge the existence of a particular Providence, such as we mentioned above, if we thought that the world had had a beginning of existence, and had not existed since all eternity. By this particular Providence we mean a recognition, in the divinity, of a kind of prevision and reasoning (similar to the reasoning and prevision of the artist who, before carrying out a work, deliberates on each of the parts that compose it). We would suppose that this prevision and reasoning were necessary to determine how the universe could have been made, and on what conditions it should have been the best possible. But as we hold that the world’s existence had no beginning, and that it has existed since all time, we can, in harmony with reason and our own views, affirm that universal Providence consists in this that the universe is conformed to Intelligence, and that Intelligence is prior to the universe, not indeed in time — for the existence of the Intelligence did not temporarily precede that of the universe — but (in the order of things), because, by its nature, Intelligence precedes the world that proceeds from it, of which it is the cause, type and model, and cause of unchanged perpetual persistence. [Ennead III,2 (47) 1]

Indeed, the (supreme) Principle is that to which all other things relate, that in which they all simultaneously exist, thus constituting the totality. All things proceed from the Principle, while it remains wrapt in itself. Thus, from a single root, which remains wrapt in itself, issue a host of parts, each of which offers the image of their root under a different form. Some of them touch the root; others trend away from it, dividing and subdividing down to the branches, twigs, leaves and fruits; some abide permanently (like the branches); others swirl in a perpetual flux, like the leaves and fruits. These latter parts which swirl in a perpetual flux contain within themselves the (“seminal) reasons” of the parts from which they proceed (and which abide permanently); they themselves seem disposed to be little miniature trees; if they engendered before perishing, they would engender only that which is nearest to them. As to the parts (which abide permanently), and which are hollow, such as the branches, they receive from the root the sap which is to fill them; for they have a nature different (from that of the leaves, flowers, and fruits). Consequently, it is the branches’ extremities that experience “passions” (or modifications) which they seem to derive only from the contiguous parts. The parts contiguous to the Root are passive on one end, and active on the other; but the Principle itself is related to all. Although all the parts issue from the same Principle, yet they differ from each other more as they are more distant from the root. Such would be the mutual relations of two brothers who resemble each other because they are born from the same parents. [Ennead III,3 (48) 7]

They who join to this passion as much of a desire for immortality as our mortal nature admits, seek beauty in the perpetuity of the procreation which renders man imperishable. They determine to procreate and produce beauty according to nature; procreating because their object is perpetuity; and procreating beautifully because they possess affinity with it. In fact, perpetuity does bear affinity to beauty; perpetual nature is beauty itself; and such also are all its derivatives. [Ennead III,5 (50) 1]

As these are real beings, and as the first Principle is their superior, evil could not exist in such beings, and still less in Him, who is superior to them; for all these things are good. Evil then must be located in non-being, and must, so to speak, be its form, referring to the things that mingle with it, or have some community with it. This “non-being,” however, is not absolute non-being. Its difference from being resembles the difference between being and movement or rest; but only as its image, or something still more distant from reality. Within this non-being are comprised all sense-objects, and all their passive modifications; or, evil may be something still more inferior, like their accident or principle, or one of the things that contribute to its constitution. To gain some conception of evil it may be represented by the contrast between measure and incommensurability; between indetermination and its goal; between lack of form and the creating principle of form; between lack and self-sufficiency; as the perpetual unlimited and changeableness; as passivity, insatiableness, and absolute poverty. Those are not the mere accidents of evil, but its very essence; all of that can be discovered when any part of evil is examined. The other objects, when they participate in the evil and resemble it, become evil without however being absolute Evil. [Ennead I,8 (51) 3]

So far as the nature of bodies participates in matter, it is an evil; yet it could not be the primary Evil, for it has a certain form. Nevertheless, this form possesses no reality, and is, besides, deprived of life (?); for bodies corrupt each other mutually. Being agitated by an unregulated movement, they hinder the soul from carrying out her proper movement. They are in a perpetual flux, contrary to the immutable nature of essences; therefore, they constitute the secondary evil. [Ennead I,8 (51) 4]

The cold planet (Saturn) is said to be more beneficent for us when it is distant, because the evil that it produces on us is said to consist of its cold effluence; in which case our good should consist in the zodiacal signs opposite to us. It is also asserted that when the cold planet (Saturn) is in opposition to the warm planet (Mars), both become harmful; yet it would seem that their influences should neutralize each other. Besides, it is held that (Saturn) likes the day, whose heat renders it favorable to men, while (Mars) likes the night, because it is fiery, as if in heaven there did not reign a perpetual day, that is, a continual light; or as if a star could be plunged into the shadow (projected by the earth) when it is very distant from the earth. [Ennead II,3 (52) 5]