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Guthrie-Plotinus: principles

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

  

What is the cause that certain bodies seem beautiful, that our ears listen with pleasure to rhythms judged beautiful, and that we love the purely moral beauties? Does the beauty of all these objects derive from some unique, immutable principle, or will we recognize some one principle of beauty for the body, and some other for something else? What then are these principles, if there are several? Or which is this principle, if there is but one? [Ennead I,6 (1) 1]

Thus, in her ascension towards divinity, the soul advances until, having risen above everything that is foreign to her, she alone with Him who is alone, beholds, in all His simplicity and purity, Him from whom all depends, to whom all aspires, from whom everything draws its existence, life and thought. He who beholds him is overwhelmed with love; with ardor desiring to unite himself with Him, entranced with ecstasy. Men who have not yet seen Him desire Him as the Good; those who have, admire Him as sovereign beauty, struck simultaneously with stupor and pleasure, thrilling in a painless orgasm, loving with a genuine emotion, with an ardor without equal, scorning all other affections, and disdaining those things which formerly they characterized as beautiful. This is the experience of those to whom divinities and guardians have appeared; they reck no longer of the beauty of other bodies. Imagine, if you can, the experiences of those who behold Beauty itself, the pure Beauty, which, because of its very purity, is fleshless and bodiless, outside of earth and heaven. All these things, indeed are contingent and composite, they are not principles, they are derived from Him. What beauty could one still wish to see after having arrived at vision of Him who gives perfection to all beings, though himself remains unmoved, without receiving anything; after finding rest in this contemplation, and enjoying it by becoming assimilated to Him? Being supreme beauty, and the first beauty, He beautifies those who love Him, and thereby they become worthy of love. This is the great, the supreme goal of souls; this is the goal which arouses all their efforts, if they do not wish to be disinherited of that sublime contemplation the enjoyment of which confers blessedness, and privation of which is the greatest of earthly misfortunes. Real misfortune is not to lack beautiful colors, nor beautiful bodies, nor power, nor domination, nor royalty. It is quite sufficient to see oneself excluded from no more than possession of beauty. This possession is precious enough to render worthless domination of a kingdom, if not of the whole earth, of the sea, or even of the heavens — if indeed it were possible, while abandoning and scorning all that (natural beauty), to succeed in contemplating beauty face to face. [Ennead I,6 (1) 7]

As the nature of the body is composite, reason convinces us that it cannot last perpetually, and our senses show it to us dissolved, destroyed, and decayed, because the elements that compose it return to join the elements of the same nature, altering, destroying them and each other, especially when this chaos is abandoned to the soul, which alone keeps her parts combined. Even if a body were taken alone, it would not be a unity; it may be analyzed into form and matter, principles that are necessary to the constitution of all bodies, even of those that are simple. Besides, as they contain extension, the bodies can be cut, divided into infinitely small parts, and thus perish. Therefore if our body is a part of ourselves, not all of us is immortal; if the body is only the instrument of the soul, as the body is given to the soul only for a definite period, it still is by nature perishable. [Ennead IV,7 (2) 1]

The proof that bodies are activated only by incorporeal faculties may be proved as follows: Quantity and quality are two different things. Every body has a quantity, but not always a quality, as in the case of matter, (according to the Stoic definition, that it was a body without quality, but possessing magnitude). Granting this, (you Stoic) will also be forced to admit that as quality is something different from quantity, it must consequently be different from the body. Since then every body has a quantity, how could quality, which is no quantity, be a body? Besides, as we said above, every body and mass is altered by division; nevertheless, when a body is cut into pieces, every part preserves the entire quality without undergoing alteration. For instance, every molecule of honey, possesses the quality of sweetness as much as all the molecules taken together; consequently that sweetness cannot be corporeal; and other qualities must be in a similar case. Moreover, if the active powers were corporeal, they would have to have a material mass proportional to their strength or weakness. Now there are great masses that have little force, and small ones that have great force; demonstrating that power does not depend on extension, and should be attributed to some (substance) without extension. Finally, you may say that matter is identical with body, and produces different beings only by receiving different qualities (the Stoics considering that even the divinity was no more than modified matter, their two principles being matter and quality; the latter, however, was also considered as body). How do you (Stoics) not see that qualities thus added to matter are reasons, that are primary and immaterial? Do not object that when the spirit (breath) and blood abandon animals, they cease to live; for if these things are necessary to life, there are for our life many other necessities, even during the presence of the soul (as thought Nemesius). Besides, neither spirit nor blood are distributed to every part of the body. [Ennead IV,7 (2) 8]

As has already been said above this hypothesis is inadmissible for several reasons. To begin with, the soul is prior (to the body), and the harmony is posterior thereto. Then the soul dominates the body, governs it, and often even resists it, which would be impossible if the soul were only a harmony. The soul, indeed, is a “being,” which harmony is not. When the corporeal principles of which we are composed are mingled in just proportions, their temperament constitutes health (but not a “being,” such as the soul). Besides, every part of the body being mingled in a different manner should form (a different harmony, and consequently) a different soul, so that there would be several of them. The decisive argument, however, is that this soul (that constitutes a harmony) presupposes another soul which would produce this harmony, as a lyre needs a musician who would produce harmonic vibrations in the strings, because he possesses within himself the reason according to which he produces the harmony. The strings of the lyre do not vibrate of themselves, and the elements of our body cannot harmonize themselves. Nevertheless, under this hypothesis, animated and orderly “being” would have been made up out of inanimate and disordered entities; and these orderly “beings” would owe their order and existence to chance. That is as impossible for parts as for the whole. The soul, therefore, is no harmony. [Ennead IV,7 (2) 8]

(19). What about the souls of animals inferior to man? The (rational) souls that have strayed so far as to descend into the bodies of animals are nevertheless still immortal. Souls of a kind other (than rational souls), cannot proceed from anything else than the living nature (of the universal Soul); and they necessarily are the principles of life for all animals. The case is the same with the souls that inhere in plants. Indeed, all souls have issued from the same principle (the universal Soul), all have an individual life, and are indivisible and incorporeal essences (“beings”). [Ennead IV,7 (2) 14]

To stop, on arriving at these causes, and to refuse further analysis, is to exhibit superficiality. This is against the advice of the sages, who advise ascending to the primary causes, to the supreme principles. For example, why, during the full moon, should the one man steal, and the other one not steal? Or, why, under the same influence of the heavens, has the one, and not the other, been sick? Why, by use of the same means, has the one become rich, and the other poor? The difference of dispositions, characters, and fortunes force us to seek ulterior causes, as indeed the sages have always done. [Ennead III,1 (3) 2]

Those sages who (like Leucippus, Democritus   and Epicurus  ) assumed material principles such as the atoms, and who explain everything by their motion, their shock and combinations, pretend that everything existent and occurring is caused by the agency of these atoms, their “actions and reactions.” This includes, according to them, our appetites and dispositions. The necessity residing in the nature of these principles, and in their effects, is therefore, by these sages, extended to everything that exists. As to the (Ionic Hylicists), who assume other physical (ultimate) principles, referring everything to them, they thus also subject all beings to necessity. [Ennead III,1 (3) 2]

To begin with, even if we do admit such atomic principles, their existence does not in any way inevitably lead to either the necessity of all things, or fatality. Let us, indeed, grant the existence of atoms; now some will move downwards — that is, if there is an up and down in the universe — others obliquely, by chance, in various directions. As there will be no order, there will be nothing determinate. Only what will be born of the atoms will be determinate. It will therefore be impossible to guess or predict events, whether by art — and indeed, how could there be any art in the midst of orderless things? — or by enthusiasm, or divine inspiration; for prediction implies that the future is determined. True, bodies will obey the impulses necessarily communicated to them by the atoms; but how could you explain the operations and affections of the soul by movements of atoms? How could atomic shock, whether vertical or oblique, produce in the soul these our reasonings, or appetites, whether necessarily, or in any other way? What explanation could they give of the soul’s resistance to the impulsions of the body? By what concourse of atoms will one man become a geometrician, another become a mathematician and astronomer, and the other a philosopher? For, according to that doctrine we no longer produce any act for which we are responsible, we are even no longer living beings, since we undergo the impulsion of bodies that affect us just as they do inanimate things. [Ennead III,1 (3) 3]

The same objections apply to the doctrine of the philosophers who explain everything by other physical causes (such as “elements”). Principles of inferior nature might well warm us, cool us, or even make us perish; but they could not beget any of the operations which the soul produces; these have an entirely different cause. [Ennead III,1 (3) 3]

In this case, even if we possessed the power of doing something by ourselves, we would not be any the less than the remainder of the universe subjected to necessity, because Fate, containing the whole series of causes, necessarily determines each event. Now since Fate includes all causes, there is nothing which could hinder the occurrence of that event, or alter it. If then everything obeys the impulsion of a single principle, nothing is left to us but to follow it. Indeed, in this case, the fancies of our imagination would result from anterior facts, and would in turn determine our appetites; our liberty would then have become a mere word; nor would we gain any advantage from obeying our appetites, since our appetites themselves will be determined by anterior facts. We would have no more liberty than the other animals, than children, or the insane, who run hither and yon, driven by blind appetites; for they also obey their appetites, as fire would do, and as all the things which fatally follow the dispositions of their nature. These objections will be decisive for those capable of apprehending them; and in the search for other causes of our appetites they will not content themselves with the principles which we have examined. [Ennead III,1 (3) 7]

All things therefore, which result either from a choice by the soul, or from exterior circumstances, are “necessary,” or determined by a cause. Could anything, indeed, be found outside of these causes? If we gather into one glance all the causes we admit, we find the principles that produce everything, provided we count, amidst external causes, the influence exercised by the course of the stars. When a soul makes a decision, and carries it out because she is impelled thereto by external things, and yields to a blind impulse, we should not consider her determination and action to be free. The soul is not free when, perverting herself, she does not make decisions which direct her in the straight path. On the contrary, when she follows her own guide, pure and impassible reason, her determination is really voluntary, free and independent, and the deed she performs is really her own work, and not the consequence of an exterior impulse; she derives it from her inner power, her pure being, from the primary and sovereign principle which directs her, being deceived by no ignorance, nor vanquished by the power of appetites; for when the appetites invade the soul, and subdue her, they drag her with them by their violence, and she is rather “passive” than “active” in what she does. [Ennead III,1 (3) 9]

Why should we not, on arriving at the Soul, stop there, and consider her the first principle? Because Intelligence is a power different from the Soul, and better than the Soul; and what is better must, by its very nature, precede (the worst). The Stoics are wrong in thinking that it is the Soul which, on reaching her perfection, begets Intelligence. How could that which is potential pass into actualization unless there were some principle that effected that transition? If this transition were due to chance, it could not have occurred at all. The first rank must therefore be assigned to that which is in actualization, which needs nothing, which is perfect, while imperfect things must be assigned to the second rank. These may be perfected by the principles that begat them, which, in respect to them, play a paternal part, perfecting what they had originally produced that was imperfect. What is thus produced is matter, as regards the creating principle, and then becomes perfect, on receiving its form from it. Besides, the Soul is (often) affected; and we need to discover some thing that is impassible, without which everything is dissolved by time; therefore there is need of some principle prior to the soul. Further, the Soul is in the world; now there must be something that resides outside of the world, and which consequently would be superior to the Soul; for since that which inheres in the world resides within the body, or matter, if nothing existed outside of the world, nothing would remain permanent. In this case, the (seminal) reason of man, and all the other reasons could be neither permanent nor eternal. The result of all these considerations, as well as of many others that we could add thereto, is the necessary assertion of the existence of Intelligence beyond the Soul. [Ennead V,9 (5) 4]

Since the thought is something essentially one (?), the form, which is the object of thought, and the idea, are one and the same thing. Which is this thing? Intelligence and the intellectual “being,” for no idea is foreign to intelligence; each form is intelligence, and the whole intelligence is all the forms; every particular form is a particular intelligence. Likewise science, taken in its totality, is all the notions it embraces; every notion is a part of the total science; it is not separated from the science locally, and exists potentially in the whole science. Intelligence resides within itself, and by possessing itself calmly, is the eternal fulness of all things. If we conceived it as being prior to essence, we would have to say that it was the action and thought of Intelligence which produced and begat all beings. But as, on the contrary, it is certain that essence is prior to Intelligence, we should, within the thinking principle, first conceive the beings, then actualization and thought, just as (the nature) of fire is joined by the actualization of the fire, so that beings have innate intelligence as their actualization. Now essence is an actualization; therefore essence and intelligence are but a single actualization, or rather both of them fuse. Consequently, they form but a single nature, as beings, the actualization of essence, and intelligence. In this case the thought is the form, and the shape is the actualization of the being. When, however, in thought we separate essence from Intelligence, we must conceive one of these principles as prior to the other. The Intelligence which operates this separation is indeed different from the essence from which it separates; but the Intelligence which is inseparable from essence and which does not separate thought from essence is itself essence and all things. [Ennead V,9 (5) 8]

The arts which produce sense-objects, such as architecture and carpentry, have their principles in the intelligible world, and participate in wisdom, so far as they make use of certain proportions. But as they apply these proportions to sense-objects, they cannot wholly be referred to the intelligible world, unless in so far as they are contained within human reason. The case is similar with agriculture, which assists the growth of plants; medicine, which increases health, and (gymnastics) which supplies the body with strength as well as vigor, for on high there is another Power, another Health, from which all living organisms derive their needed vigor. [Ennead V,9 (5) 11]

Unity was not to exist alone; for if unity remained self-enclosed, all things would remain hidden in unity without having any form, and no beings would achieve existence. Consequently, even if constituted by beings born of unity, plurality would not exist, unless the inferior natures, by their rank destined to be souls, issued from those beings by the way of procession. Likewise, it was not sufficient for souls to exist, they also had to reveal what they were capable of begetting. It is likewise natural for each essence to produce something beneath it, to draw it out from itself by a development similar to that of a seed, a development in which an indivisible principle proceeds to the production of a sense-object, and where that which precedes remains in its own place at the same time as it begets that which follows by an inexpressible power, which is essential to intelligible natures. Now as this power was not to be stopped or circumscribed in its actions by jealousy, there was need of a continuous procession until, from degree to degree, all things had descended to the extreme limits of what was possible; for it is the characteristic of an inexhaustible power to communicate all its gifts to everything, and not to permit any of them to be disinherited, since there is nothing which hinders any of them from participating in the nature of the Good in the measure that it is capable of doing so. Since matter has existed from all eternity, it was impossible that from the time since it existed, it should not participate in that which communicates goodness to all things according to their receptivity thereof. If the generation of matter were the necessary consequence of anterior principles, still it must not be entirely deprived of the good by its primitive impotence, when the cause which gratuitously communicated “being” to it remained self-enclosed. [Ennead IV,8 (6) 6]

The first principles, therefore, are existence and intelligence, identity and difference, movement and rest. Rest is the condition of identity; movement is the condition of thought, since the latter presupposes the differences of the thinking subject and of the object thought, and because it is silent if reduced to unity. The elements of thought (subject and object) must thus stand in the relation of differences, but also in that of unity, because they form a consubstantial unity, and because there is a common element in all that is derived therefrom. Besides, here difference is nothing else than distinction. The plurality formed by elements of thought constitutes quantity and number; and the characteristic of every element, quality. From these first principles (the categories, that are the genera of being) all things are derived. [Ennead V,1 (10) 4]

How does Intelligence see, and what does it see? How did the Second issue from the First, how was it born from the First, so as that the Second might see the First? For the soul now understands that these principles must necessarily exist. She seeks to solve the problem often mooted by ancient philosophers. “If the nature of the One be such as we have outlined, how does everything derive its hypostatic substance (or, form of existence), manifoldness, duality, and number from the First? Why did the First not remain within Himself, why did He allow the leakage of manifoldness seen in all beings, and which we are seeking to trace back to the First?” We shall tell it. But we must, to begin with, invoke the Divinity, not by the utterance of words, but by raising our souls to Him in prayer. Now the only way to pray is (for a person), when alone, to advance towards the One, who is entirely alone. To contemplate Unity, we must retire to our inner sanctuary, and there remain tranquil above all things (in ecstasy); then we must observe the statues which as it were are situated outside of (soul and intelligence), and in front of everything, the statue that shines in the front rank (Unity), contemplating it in a manner suitable to its nature (in the mysteries). [Ennead V,1 (10) 6]

The first philosopher who taught this was Parmenides  , who identified Existence and Intelligence, and who does not place existence among sense-objects, “for, thought is the same thing as existence.” He adds that existence is immovable, although being thought. Parmenides thus denies all corporeal movement in existence, so as that it might always remain the same. Further, Parmenides compares existence to a sphere, because it contains everything, drawing thought not from without, but from within itself. When Parmenides, in his writings, mentions the One, he means the cause, as if he recognized that this unity (of the intelligible being) implied manifoldness. In the dialogue of Plato he speaks with greater accuracy, and distinguishes three principles: the First, the absolute One; the second, the manifold one; the third, the one and the manifold. He therefore, as we do, reaches three natures. [Ennead V,1 (10) 8]

Aristotle  , who lived at a later period, says that the First Principle is separated from (sense-objects), and that it is intelligible. But when Aristotle says that He thinks himself, Aristotle degrades Him from the first rank. Aristotle also asserts the existence of other intelligible entities in a number equal to the celestial spheres, so that each one of them might have a principle of motion. About the intelligible entities, therefore, Aristotle advances a teaching different from that of Plato, and as he has no plausible reason for this change, he alleges necessity. A well-grounded objection might here be taken against him. It seems more reasonable to suppose that all the spheres co-ordinated in a single system should, all of them, stand in relation to the One and the First. About Aristotle’s views this question also might be raised: do the intelligible entities depend on the One and First, or are there several principles for the intelligible entities? If the intelligible entities depend on the One, they will no doubt be arranged symmetrically, as, in the sense-sphere, are the spheres, each of which contains another, and of which a single One, exterior to the others, contains them, and dominates them all. Thus, in this case, the first intelligible entity will contain all entities up there, and will be the intelligible world. Just as the spheres are not empty, as the first is full of stars, and as each of the others also is full of them, so above their motors will contain many entities, and everything will have a more real existence. On the other hand, if each of the intelligible entities is a principle, all will be contingent. How then will they unite their action, and will they, by agreement, contribute in producing a single effect, which is the harmony of heaven? Why should sense-objects, in heaven, equal in number their intelligible motors? Again, why are there several of these, since they are incorporeal, and since no matter separates them from each other? [Ennead V,1 (10) 9]

Above existence, therefore, is the One. This has by us been proved as far as could reasonably be expected, and as far as such subjects admit of demonstration. In the second rank are Existence and Intelligence; in the third, the Soul. But if these three principles, the One, Intelligence, and the Soul, as we have said, obtain in nature, three principles must also obtain within us. I do not mean that these three principles are in sense-objects, for they are separate therefrom; they are outside of the sense-world, as the three divine principles are outside of the celestial sphere, and, according to Plato’s expression, they constitute the “the interior man.” Our soul, therefore, is something divine; it has a nature different (from sense-nature), which conforms to that of the universal Soul. Now the perfect Soul possesses intelligence; but we must distinguish between the intelligence that reasons (the discursive reason), and the Intelligence that furnishes the principles of reasoning (pure intelligence). The discursive reason of the soul has no need, for operation, of any bodily organ; in its operations, it preserves all its purity, so that it is capable of reasoning purely. When separated from the body, it must, without any hesitation, be ranked with highest intellectual entities. There is no need of locating it in space; for, if it exist within itself, outside of body, in an immaterial condition, it is evidently not mingled with the body, and has none of its nature. Consequently Plato says, “The divinity has spread the Soul around the world.” What he here means is that a part of the Soul remains in the intelligible world. Speaking of our soul he also says, “she hides her head in heaven.” He also advises us to wean the soul from the body; and he does not refer to any local separation, which nature alone could establish. He means that the soul must not incline towards the body, must not abandon herself to the phantoms of imagination, and must not, thus, become alienated from reason. He means that the soul should try to elevate to the intelligible world her lower part which is established in the sense-world, and which is occupied in fashioning the body. [Ennead V,1 (10) 10]

Since the rational soul makes judgments about what is just or beautiful, and decides whether some object is beautiful, whether such an action be just, there must exist an immutable justice and beauty from which discursive reason draws its principles. Otherwise, how could such reasonings take place? If the soul at times reasons about justice and beauty, but at times does not reason about them, we must possess within ourselves the intelligence which, instead of reasoning, ever possesses justice and beauty; further, we must within us possess the cause and Principle of Intelligence, the Divinity, which is not divisible, which subsists, not in any place, but in Himself; who is contemplated by a multitude of beings, by each of the beings fitted to receive Him, but which remains distinct from these beings, just as the centre subsists within itself, while all the radii come from the circumference to centre themselves in it. Thus we ourselves, by one of the parts of ourselves, touch the divinity, unite ourselves with Him and are, so to speak, suspended from Him; and we are founded upon Him (we are “edified” by Him) when we turn towards Him. [Ennead V,1 (10) 11]

How does it happen that we possess principles that are so elevated, almost in spite of ourselves, and for the most part without busying ourselves about them? For there are even men who never notice them. Nevertheless these principles, that is, intelligence, and the principle superior to intelligence, which ever remains within itself (that is, the One), these two principles are ever active. The case is similar with the soul. She is always in motion; but the operations that go on within her are not always perceived; they reach us only when they succeed in making themselves felt. When the faculty that is active within us does not transmit its action to the power that feels, this action is not communicated to the entire soul; however, we may not be conscious thereof because, although we possess sensibility, it is not this power, but the whole soul that constitutes the man. So long as life lasts, each power of the soul exercises its proper function by itself; but we know it only when communication and perception occur. In order to perceive the things within us, we have to turn our perceptive faculties towards them, so that (our soul) may apply her whole attention thereto. The person that desires to hear one sound must neglect all others, and listen carefully on its approach. Thus we must here close our senses to all the noises that besiege us, unless necessity force us to hear them, and to preserve our perceptive faculty pure and ready to listen to the voices that come from above. [Ennead V,1 (10) 12]

Let us first examine whether this (latter intelligible) matter exists, how it exists, and what it is. If (the nature) of matter be something indeterminate, and shapeless, and if in the perfect (intelligible beings) there must not be anything indeterminate or shapeless, it seems as if there could not be any matter in the intelligible world. As every (being) is simple, it could not have any need of matter which, by uniting with something else, constitutes something composite. Matter is necessary in begotten beings, which make one thing arise out of another; for it is such beings that have led to the conception of matter (as thought Aristotle). It may however be objected that in unbegotten beings matter would seem useless. Whence could it have originated to enter in (among intelligible beings), and remain there? If it were begotten, it must have been so by some principle; if it be eternal, it must have had several principles; in which case the beings that occupy the first rank would seem to be contingent. Further, if (in those beings) form come to join matter, their union will constitute a body, so that the intelligible (entities) will be corporeal. [Ennead II,4 (12) 2]

Let us further examine if the indeterminate, or infinite, be an accident, or an attribute of some other nature; how it comes to be an accident, and whether privation ever can become an accident. The things that are numbers and reasons are exempt from all indetermination, because they are determinations, orders, and principles of order for the rest. Now these principles do not order objects already ordered, nor do they order orders. The thing that receives an order is different from that which gives an order, and the principles from which the order is derived are determination, limitation and reason. In this case, that which receives the order and the determination must necessarily be the infinite (as thought Plato). Now that which receives the order is matter, with all the things which, without being matter, participate therein, and play the part of matter. Therefore matter is the infinite itself. Not accidentally is it the infinite; for the infinite is no accident. Indeed, every accident must be a reason; now of what being can the infinite be an accident? Of determination, or of that which is determined? Now matter is neither of these two. Further, the infinite could not unite with the determinate without destroying its nature. The infinite, therefore, is no accident of matter (but is its nature, or “being”). Matter is the infinite itself. Even in the intelligible world, matter is the infinite. [Ennead II,4 (12) 15]

It is (intelligence), therefore, which conceived the design in producing in the universe the four kinds of living beings (or elements), which it beholds up there. Mysteriously, however, Plato here seems to present the conceiving-principle as different from the other two principles, while others think that these three principles, the animal itself (the universal Soul), Intelligence and the conceiving principle form but a single thing. Shall we here, as elsewhere, admit that opinions differ, and that everybody conceives the three principles in his own manner? [Ennead III,9 (13) 1]

We have already noticed two of these principles (namely, intelligence, and the intelligible, which is called the Animal-in-itself, or universal Soul). What is the third? It is he who has resolved to produce, to form, to divide the ideas that intelligence sees in the Animal. Is it possible that in one sense intelligence is the dividing principle, and that in another the dividing principle is not intelligence? As far as divided things proceed from intelligence, intelligence is the dividing principle. As far as intelligence itself remains undivided, and that the things proceeding from it (that is, the souls) are divided, the universal Soul is the principle of this division into several souls. That is why Plato says that division is the work of a third principle, and that it resides in a third principle that has conceived; now, to conceive is not the proper function of intelligence; it is that of the Soul which has a dividing action in a divisible nature. [Ennead III,9 (13) 1]

Other principles remain unmoved while producing and exhibiting their (“hypostases,” substantial acts, or) forms of existence. The (universal) Soul, however, is in motion while producing and exhibiting her (“substantial act,” or) forms of existence, namely, the functions of sensation and growth, reaching down as far as (the sphere of the) plants. In us also does the Soul function, but she does not dominate us, constituting only a part of our nature. She does, however, dominate in plants, having as it were remained alone there. Beyond that sphere, however, nature begets nothing; for beyond it exists no life, begotten (matter) being lifeless. All that was begotten prior to this was shapeless, and achieved form only by trending towards its begetting principle, as to its source of life. Consequently, that which is begotten cannot be a form of the Soul, being lifeless, but must be absolute in determination. The things anterior (to matter, namely, the sense-power and nature), are doubtless indeterminate, but only so within their form; the are not absolutely indeterminate; they are indeterminate only in respect of their perfection. On the contrary, that which exists at present, namely, (matter), is absolutely indeterminate. When it achieves perfection, it becomes body, on receiving the form suited to its power. This (form) is the receptacle of the principle which has begotten it, and which nourishes it. It is the only trace of the higher things in the body, which occupies the last rank amidst the things below. [Ennead III,4 (15) 3]

We are thus led to ask how a being can be composed of non-beings? It has already been pointed out that the things subject to generation could not be identical with the principles from which they proceed. Let us now add that they could not be beings. But still, how can one say that the intelligible being is constituted by a non-being? The reason is that in the intelligible world since being forms a purer and more refined essence, being really is somehow constituted by the differences of essence; or rather, we feel it ought to be called being from considering it together with its energies (or, actualizations). This being seems to be a perfecting of essence; but perhaps being is less perfect when it is thus considered together with its actualizations; for, being less simple, it veers away from essence. [Ennead II,6 (17) 1]

Qualities, therefore, are everything that, instead of being actualizations and forms of beings, are only its accidents, and only reveal its shapes. We will therefore call qualities the habituations and the dispositions which are not essential to substances. The archetypes (or models) of qualities are the actualizations of the beings, which are the principles of these qualities. It is impossible for the same thing at one time to be, and at another not to be a quality. What can be separated from being is quality; what remains united to being is being, form, and actualization. In fact, nothing can be the same in itself, and in some other condition where it has ceased to be form and an actualization. What, instead of being the form of a being, is always its accident, is purely and exclusively a quality. [Ennead II,6 (17) 3]

Do ideas of individuals (as well as of classes of individuals), exist? This means that if I, in company with some other man, were to trace ourselves back to the intelligible world, we would there find separate individual principles corresponding to each of us. (This might imply either of two theories.) Either, if the individual named Socrates   be eternal, and if the soul of Socrates be Socrates himself, then the soul of each individual is contained in the intelligible world. Or if, on the contrary, the individual named Socrates be not eternal, if the same soul can belong successively to several individuals, such as Socrates or Pythagoras  , then (as Alcinoous, e. g., and other Platonists insist), each individual does not have his idea in the intelligible world. [Ennead V,7 (18) 1]

(Second objection): Please explain how differing individuals are born from the same parents. This diversity, if it be anything more than merely apparent, depends on the manner in which the two generating principles concur in the act of generation; at one time the male predominates, at other times, the female; again, they may both act equally. In either case, the (“seminal) reason” is given in its entirety, and dominates the matter furnished by either of the generating principles. [Ennead V,7 (18) 2]

(Many interesting questions remain). Is it possible for a man to possess the higher or lower virtues in accomplished reality, or otherwise (merely theoretically)? To decide that, we would have individually to examine each, as, for example, prudence. How could such a virtue exist merely potentially, borrowing its principles from elsewhere? What would happen if one virtue advanced naturally to a certain degree, and another virtue to another? What would you think of a temperance which would moderate certain (impulses), while entirely suppressing others? Similar questions might be raised about other virtues, and the arbiter of the degree to which the virtues have attained would have to be prudence. [Ennead I,2 (19) 7]

What then is this dialectics, knowledge of which must be added to mathematics? It is a science which makes us capable of reasoning about each thing, to say what it is, in what it differs from the others, in what it resembles them, where it is, whether it be one of the beings, to determine how many veritable beings there are, and which are the objects that contain nonentity instead of veritable essence. This science treats also of good and evil; of everything that is subordinated to (being), the Good, and to its contrary; of the nature of what is eternal, and transitory. It treats of each matter scientifically, and not according to mere opinion. Instead of wandering around the sense-world, it establishes itself in the intelligible world; it concentrates its whole attention on this world, and after having saved our soul from deceit, dialectics “pastures our soul in the meadow of truth,” (as thought Plato). Then it makes use of the Platonic method of division to discern ideas, to define each object, to rise to the several kinds of essences (as thought Plato); then, by thought concatenating all that is thence derived, dialectics continues its deductions until it has gone through the whole domain of the intelligible. Then, by reversing, dialectics returns to the very Principle from which first it had started out. Resting there, because it is only in the intelligible world that it can find rest, no longer needing to busy itself with a multitude of objects, because it has arrived at unity, dialectics considers its logic, which treats of propositions and arguments. This logic is an art subordinate to dialectics just as writing is subordinate to thought. In logic, dialectics recognizes some principles as necessary, and others as constituting preparatory exercises. Then, along with everything else, subjecting these principles to its criticism, it declares some of them useful, and others superfluous, or merely technical. [Ennead I,3 (20) 4]

Whence does this science derive its proper principles? Intelligence furnishes the soul with the clear principles she is capable of receiving. Having discovered and achieved these principles, dialectics puts their consequences in order. Dialectics composes, and divides, till it has arrived at a perfect intelligence of things; for according to (Plato), dialectics is the purest application of intelligence and wisdom. In this case, if dialectics be the noblest exercise of our faculties, it must exercise itself with essence and the highest objects. Wisdom studies existence, as intelligence studies that which is still beyond existence (the One, or the Good). But is not philosophy also that which is most eminent? Surely. But there is no confusion between philosophy and dialectics, because dialectics is the highest part of philosophy. It is not (as Aristotle thought) merely an instrument for philosophy, nor (as Epicurus thought) made up of pure speculations and abstract rules. It studies things themselves, and its matter is the (real) beings. It reaches them by following a method which yields reality as well as the idea. Only accidentally does dialectics busy itself with error and sophisms. Dialectics considers them alien to its mission, and as produced by a foreign principle. Whenever anything contrary to the rule of truth is advanced, dialectics recognizes the error by the light of the truths it contains. Dialectics, however, does not care for propositions, which, to it, seem only mere groupings of letters. Nevertheless, because it knows the truth, dialectics also understands propositions, and, in general, the operations of the soul. Dialectics knows what it is to affirm, to deny, and how to make contrary or contradictory assertions. Further, dialectics distinguishes differences from identities, grasping the truth by an intuition that is as instantaneous as is that of the senses; but dialectics leaves to another science, that enjoys those details, the care of treating them with exactness. [Ennead I,3 (20) 5]

Dialectics, therefore, is only one part of philosophy, but the most important. Indeed, philosophy has other branches. First, it studies nature (in physics), therein employing dialectics, as the other arts employ arithmetic, though philosophy owes far more to dialectics. Then philosophy treats of morals, and here again it is dialectics that ascertains the principles; ethics limits itself to building good habits thereon, and to propose the exercises that shall produce those good habits. The (Aristotelian) rational virtues also owe to dialectics the principles which seem to be their characteristics; for they chiefly deal with material things (because they moderate the passions). The other virtues also imply the application of reason to the passions and actions which are characteristic of each of them. However, prudence applies reason to them in a superior manner. Prudence deals rather with the universal, considering whether the virtues concatenate, and whether an action should be done now, or be deferred, or be superseded by another (as thought Aristotle). Now it is dialectics, or its resultant science of wisdom which, under a general and immaterial form, furnishes prudence with all the principles it needs. [Ennead I,3 (20) 6]

Could the lower knowledge not be possessed without dialectics or wisdom? They would, at least, be imperfect and mutilated. On the other hand, though the dialectician, that is, the true sage, no longer need these inferior things, he never would have become such without them; they must precede, and they increase with the progress made in dialectics. Virtues are in the same case. The possessor of natural virtues may, with the assistance of wisdom, rise to perfect virtues. Wisdom, therefore, only follows natural virtues. Then wisdom perfects the morals. Rather, the already existing natural virtues increase and grow perfect along with wisdom. Whichever of these two things precedes, complements the other. Natural virtues, however, yield only imperfect views and morals; and the best way to perfect them, is philosophic knowledge of the principles from which they depend. [Ennead I,3 (20) 6]

Let us first explain how there can be a plurality of intelligences, souls, and essences. If we consider the things that proceed from the first principles, as they are numbers and not magnitudes, we shall also have to ask ourselves how they fill the universe. This plurality which thus arises from the first principles does not in any way help us to solve our question, since we have granted that essence is multiple because of the difference (of the beings that proceed from it), and not by place; for though it be multiple, it is simultaneously entire; “essence everywhere touches essence,” and it is everywhere entirely present. Intelligence likewise is manifold by the difference (of the intelligences that proceed therefrom), and not by space; it is entire everywhere. It is so also with souls; even their part which is divisible in the bodies is indivisible by its nature. But the bodies possess extension because the soul is present with them; or rather, it is because there are bodies in the sense-world; it is because the power of the Soul (that is universal) which is in them manifests itself in all their parts, that the Soul herself seems to have parts. What proves that she is not divided as they are, and with them, that she is entirely present everywhere, is that by nature she is essentially one and indivisible. Thus, the unity of the Soul does not exclude the plurality of souls, any more than the unity of essence excludes the plurality of (beings), or that the plurality of intelligibles does not disagree with the existence of the One. It is not necessary to admit that the Soul imparts life to the bodies by the plurality of souls, nor that that plurality derives from the extension of the body (of the world). Before there ever were any bodies, there was already one (universal) Soul and several (individual) souls. The individual souls existed already in the universal Soul, not potentially, but each in actuality. The unity of the universal Soul does not hinder the multitude of the individual souls contained within her; the multitude of the individual souls does not hinder the unity of the universal Soul. They are distinct without being separated by any interval; they are present to each other instead of being foreign to each other; for they are not separated from each other by any limits, any more than different sciences are within a single soul. The Soul is such that in her unity she contains all the souls. Such a nature is, therefore, infinite. [Ennead VI,4 (22) 4]

As the human reason which undertakes to examine the question here raised is not one, but divided, it makes use of corporeal nature in its researches, by borrowing its principles. That is why reason, thinking it intelligible being, similar to bodies, divides it, doubting its unity. It could not be otherwise, because its investigation was not founded on the proper immanent principles. We must, therefore, in our discussion about the one universal Essence, choose principles capable of enlisting support, principles that would be intellectual, that is, would connect with intelligible entities, and veritable being. For since our sense-nature is agitated by continual flux, being subject to all kinds of changes, trending towards all directions of space; it should consequently be called not “being,” but generation, or becoming. The eternal Essence, on the contrary, is not divided; it subsists ever in the same manner and in the same state, neither is born, nor perishes; occupies neither place nor space; does not reside in any determinate location; neither enters, nor issues, but remains in itself. A discussion about the nature of bodies begins with this (physical) nature, and the things that are related to it, which (deductively) give rise to probable proofs by the aid of syllogisms equally probable. But when we deal with intelligible entities, our starting-point must be the nature of the being considered; principles have to be legitimately derived therefrom; and then, without surreptitiously substituting any other nature (inductively), borrow from the intelligible Being itself the conception formed about it; for being, or whatness, is everywhere taken as principle; and it is said that the definition of an object, when well made, sets forth many of its accidents. Therefore, when we are dealing with things where being is everything, we must, so much the more, apply our whole attention to this being; base all our (arguments) thereon, and refer everything to it. [Ennead VI,5 (23) 2]

Consequently, it will be necessary either to reject the propositions set forth above, that is, the principles which have been established, and deny the existence of the intelligible entities; or, as this is impossible, to recognize the truth of what has been advanced from the very beginning (of this discussion): the Essence which is one and identical is indivisible, and exists as single everywhere. It is not distant from any of the other things; and, nevertheless, (to be near them) it has no need of spreading, of letting certain portions of its essence flow. It remains entire in itself, and though it produce something inferior, it does not, on that account, abandon itself, and does not extend itself hither and yon in other things; otherwise, it would be on one side, while the things it produces would be on the other, and it would occupy a place, finding itself separated therefrom. As to these (produced things), each of them is either a whole or a part. If it be a part, it will not preserve the nature of the all, as we have already said; if, however, it be all, we shall have to divide it in as many parts as that in which it subsists — or, it will have to be granted that the identical essence can simultaneously be everywhere entire. This is a demonstration drawn from the matter itself, which contains nothing external to the being that we are examining, and which does not borrow anything from any other nature. [Ennead VI,5 (23) 3]

Since we have distinguished two principles, the one which is the first thinking principle (the Intelligence), and the other which is the second (the Soul), the Principle superior to the first thinking principle must itself not think. In order to think, it would have to be Intelligence; to be Intelligence, it would have to think an object; to be the first thinking principle, it would have to contain this object. Now it is not necessary that every intelligible entity should possess intelligence, and should think; otherwise it would not only be intelligible, but even Intelligence; being thus dual, it would not be the first. On the other hand, intelligence cannot subsist, if there be not a purely intelligible nature (“being”), which is intelligible for Intelligence, but which in itself should be neither intelligence nor intelligible. Indeed, that which is intelligible must be intelligible for something else. As to Intelligence, its power is quite vain, if it does not perceive and does not grasp the intelligible that it thinks; for it cannot think, if it have no object to think; and it is perfect only when it possesses this. Now, before thinking, it must by itself be perfect by nature (“being”). Therefore, the principle through which intelligence is perfect must itself be what it is before it thinks; consequently, it has no need to think, since, before thinking, it suffices to itself. It will, therefore, not think. [Ennead V,6 (24) 2]

How might one apply actual existence to intelligible things? Each of them exists actually because it has received form, as the statue (the compound) exists actually, or rather, because it is a form, and because its essence is a perfect form. The intelligence does not pass from the potentiality of thinking to the actuality of thinking. Otherwise, it would imply an anterior intelligence which would not pass from potentiality to actuality, which would possess everything by itself; for what exists potentially implies another principle whose intervention brings it to actuality, so as to be something existing actually. A being is an actuality when it always is what it is, by itself. Therefore, all first principles are actualities; for they possess all they should possess by themselves, eternally. Such is the state of the soul which is not in matter, but in the intelligible world. The soul which is in matter is another actuality; she is, for instance, the vegetative soul; for she is in actuality what she is. We shall, therefore, have to admit that (in the intelligible world) everything exists actually, and that thus everything is actuality, because it has rightly been said that intelligible nature is always awake, that it is a life, an excellent life, and that there on high all actualities are perfect. Therefore, in the intelligible world, everything exists actually, and everything is actuality and life. The place of intelligible things is the place of life, the principle and source of the veritable soul, and of intelligence. [Ennead V,5 (25) 3]

Further, the soul’s appetite is intemperate when it alone is active; for then, in the absence of the principles that ought to command or direct her, it alone does everything. Besides, the rational part, whose function it is to see (by considering the notions it receives from intelligence), is occupied with something else, for it does not do everything simultaneously, being busy with some other action; it considers other than corporeal things, so far as it can. Perhaps also the virtue or vice of the appetite depend considerably on the good or evil condition of the organs; so that, in either case, nothing is added to the soul. [Ennead III,6 (26) 2]

On descending from the intelligible world, souls first come into heaven, and they there take a body by means of which they pass even into terrestrial bodies, according as they more or less advance (outside of the intelligible world). There are some who issue from heaven into the bodies of an inferior nature; there are some also who pass from one body into another. The latter no longer have the power to reascend into the intelligible world because they have forgotten; they are weighted down by the burden they carry along with themselves. Now souls differ either by the bodies to which they are united, or by their different destinies, or by their kind of life, or by their primitive nature. Thus differing from each other in all these relations, or in only some, the souls here below either succumb to fate, or are alternately subjected to it, and liberated; or, while supporting what is necessary, preserve the liberty of devoting themselves to actions that are characteristic of them, and live according to some other law, following the order that rules the whole universe. This order embraces all the (“seminal) reasons,” and all the causes, the movements of the souls, and the divine laws. It agrees with these laws, it borrows from them its principles, and relates thereto all things that are its consequences. It preserves in an imperishable condition all the beings which are able to preserve themselves conformably to the constitution of the intelligible world. It leads the other beings whither their nature calls them, so that whithersoever they may descend, there is a cause which assigns to them some particular position or condition. [Ennead IV,3 (27) 15]

How can things be prior or posterior, if the soul that contemplates the One embrace all things? The potentiality which is One is one in such a manner that it is multiple when it is contemplated by another principle (Intelligence), because then it is not simultaneously all things in one single thought. Indeed, the actualizations (of Intelligence) are not a unity; but they are all produced by an ever permanent potentiality; they therefore become multiple in the other principles (the intelligibles); for Intelligence, not being unity itself, can receive within its breast the nature of the multiple which did not formerly exist (in the One). [Ennead IV,4 (28) 1]

In the intelligible world, the soul sees the Good by intelligence; for intelligence does not hinder her from arriving to the Good. Between the soul and the Good, the intermediary is not the body, which could be no more than an obstacle; for if the bodies can ever serve as intermediaries, it would only be in the process of descending from the first principles to third rank entities. When the soul occupies herself with inferior objects, she possesses what she wished to possess conformably to her memory and imagination. Consequently memory, even should it apply itself to the very best things, is not the best thing possible; for it consists not only in feeling that one remembers, but also in finding oneself in a disposition conformable to the affections, to the earlier intuitions which are remembered. Now it may happen that a soul possesses something unconsciously, so that she possesses it better than if she were conscious thereof. In fact, when she is conscious thereof, she possesses it like something foreign to her, and from which she is keeping herself distinct; when, on the contrary, she is unconscious of it she becomes what she possesses; and it is especially this latter kind of memory which can most thoroughly effect her degradation (when she conforms herself to sense-objects, by applying her imagination thereto). [Ennead IV,4 (28) 4]

Are our notions of intellectual entities actualized by the potentiality which constitutes memory? If these notions be not intuitions, it is by memory that they become actualized; if they are intuitions, it is by the potentiality which has given them to us on high. This power awakes in us every time that we rise to intelligible things, in it is that which sees what we later talk about. We do not perceive intelligible entities by imagination or reasoning, which itself is forced to draw its principles from elsewhere; it is by our faculty of contemplation, which alone enables us to speak of them while we are here below. We see them by awaking in ourselves here below the same potentiality which we are to arouse when we are in the intelligible world. We resemble a man who, climbing the peak of a rock, should, by his glance, discover objects invisible for those who have not climbed with him. [Ennead IV,4 (28) 5]

The principle which presides over the order of the universe is double; from one point of view he is the demiurge; from the other, the universal Soul. By the name of Jupiter, therefore, we designate both the demiurge, and the “Governor of the universe.” As to the demiurge, we must dismiss all notions of past or future, and attribute to him nothing but a life that is uniform, immutable, and independent, of time. But the life of the governor of the universe (which is the universal Soul), raises the question whether she be also free from any necessity of reasoning, and of planning what is to be done? Surely, for the order which is to rule has already been devised and decided, and that without having been ordered; for that which is in order was that which became, and the process of becoming eventuates in order. The latter is the activity of the Soul which depends from an abiding wisdom, a wisdom whose image is the order existing within the soul. As the wisdom contemplated by the soul does not change, neither does its action. Indeed, the Soul contemplates wisdom perpetually; if she ceased, she would lapse into incertitude, for the soul is as unitary as her work. This unitary principle that governs the world dominates perpetually, and not only occasionally; for whence should there be several powers, to struggle among each other, or get into uncertainties? The principle that administers the universe is therefore unitary, and ever wills the same. Why, indeed, should she desire now one thing, and then another, and thus involve herself in uncertainties? Still, even if she altered herself under unitary conditions, she would not be involved in difficulties. That the universe contains a great number and kinds of parts opposed to each other is no reason that the Soul does not with certainty know how to arrange them. She does not begin by objects of lowest rank, nor by parts; she directs by the principles. Starting from these, she easily succeeds in putting everything in order. She dominates because she persists in a single and identical function. What would induce her to wish first one thing, and then another? Besides, in such a state of affairs, she would hesitate about what she ought to do, and her action would be weakened, and this would result in a weakness of her activities, while deliberating about still undecided plans. [Ennead IV,4 (28) 10]

The Soul, such as we are considering her here, is something venerable; she resembles a circle which is united to the centre, and which develops without leaving (its base of operations, the centre), thus forming an undivided extension. To gain a conception of the order of the three principles, the Good may be considered as a centre, the Intelligence as an immovable circle, and the Soul as an external movable circle impelled by desire. [Ennead IV,4 (28) 16]

(3). If anybody were to ask nature why she produces, Nature, if at all willing to listen and answer would say, “You should not have questioned me; you should have tried to understand, keeping silence, as I do; for I am not in the habit of speaking. What were you to understand? Here it is. First, what is produced is the work of my silent speculation, a contemplation effected by my nature; for, myself being born of contemplation, mine is a contemplative nature. Besides, that which in me contemplates, produces a work of contemplation, like geometricians who, while contemplating, describe figures. For it is not in describing figures, but in contemplating, that I let drop from within me the lines which outline the forms of the bodies. I preserve within me the disposition of my mother (the universal Soul), and that of the principles that beget me (the formal ‘reasons’). The latter, indeed, are born of contemplation: I was begotten in the same way. These principles gave birth to me without any action, or the mere fact that they are more powerful reasons, and that they contemplate themselves.” [Ennead III,8 (30) 4]

(6). Thus everything (ultimately) derives from contemplation; everything (really) is contemplation, including the true beings, and the beings by the former secondarily begotten by giving themselves up to contemplation, and which themselves are objects of contemplation either for sensation, or for knowledge or opinion. Actions, and also desire, result in knowledge. Generation originates in speculation, and ends in the production of a form, that is: in an object of contemplation. In general, all beings that are images of generating principles produce forms and objects of contemplation. Begotten substances, being imitations of beings, show that the purpose of generating principles is neither generation nor action, but the production of works which themselves are to be contemplated. Contemplation is aimed at by both discursive thought, and beneath it, by sensation, the end of both of which is knowledge. Further, beneath discursive thought and sensation is the nature which, bearing within herself an object of contemplation, that is, a (“seminal) reason,” produces another “reason.” Such are the truths that are self-evident, or that can be demonstrated by reasoning. Besides it is clear that, since the intelligible objects devote themselves to contemplation, all other beings must aspire thereto; for the origin of beings is also their end. [Ennead III,8 (30) 7]

Being the Good Himself, and not simply something good, the Divinity cannot possess anything, not even the quality of being good. If He possessed anything, this thing would either be good, or not good; now in the principle which is good in Himself and in the highest degree, there cannot be anything which is not good. On the other hand, the statement that the Good possesses the quality of being good is impossible. Since therefore (the Good) can possess neither the quality of being good, or of not being good, the result is that He cannot possess anything; that He is unique, and isolated from everything else. As all other things either are good without being the Good, or are not good, and as the Good has neither the quality of being good, or of not being good, He has nothing, and this is the very thing that constitutes His goodness. To attribute to Him anything, such as being, intelligence, or beauty, would be to deprive Him of the privilege of being the Good. Therefore when we deprive Him of all attributes, when we affirm nothing about Him, when one does not commit the error of supposing anything within Him, He is left as simple essence, without attribution of things He does not possess. Let us not imitate those ignorant panegyrists who lower the glory of those they praise by attributing to them qualities inferior to their dignity, because they do not know how to speak properly of the persons they are trying to praise. Likewise, we should not attribute to the Divinity any of the things beneath and after Him; we should recognize Him as their eminent cause, but without being any of them. The nature of the Good consists not in being all things in general, nor in being any of them in particular. In this case, indeed, the Good would form no more than one with all beings; consequently, He would differ from them only by His own character; that is, by some difference, or by the addition of some quality. Instead of being one, He would be two things, of which the one — namely, what in Him was common with the other beings — would not be the Good, while the other would be the Good (and would leave all beings evil). Under this hypothesis, He would be a mixture of good and of not good; he would no longer be the pure and primary Good. The primary Good would be that in which the other thing would particularly participate, a participation by virtue of which it would become the good. This thing would be the good only by participation, whilst that in which it would participate would be nothing in particular; which would demonstrate that the good was nothing in particular. But if, in the principle under discussion, the good be such — that is, if there be a difference whose presence gives the character of goodness to the composite — this good must derive from some other principle which must be the Good uniquely and simply. Such a composite, therefore, depends on the pure and simple Good. Thus the First, the absolute Good, dominates all beings, is uniquely the Good, possesses nothing within Himself, is mingled with nothing, is superior to all things, and is the cause of all things. The beautiful and that which is “being” could not derive from evil, or from indifferent principles; for the cause being more perfect, is always better than its effects. [Ennead V,5 (32) 13]

Consequently there are no principles other (than the three divine hypostatic substances); and the first rank will have to be assigned to Unity, the second to Intelligence, as the first thinking principle, and the third to the Soul. Such indeed is the natural order, which admits of no further principles, in the intelligible world. If less be claimed, it is because of a confusion between the Soul and Intelligence, or Intelligence with the First; but we have often pointed out their mutual differences. The only thing left is to examine if there might not be more than these three hypostatic substances; and in this case, what their nature might be. [Ennead II,9 (33) 1]

The Principle of all things, such as we have described it, is the most simple and elevated possible. The (Gnostics) are wrong in distinguishing within that (supreme Principle) potentiality from actualization; for it would be ridiculous to seek to apply to principles that are immaterial and are actualizations, that (Aristotelian) distinction, and thus to increase the number (of the divine hypostatic substances.) [Ennead II,9 (33) 1]

Nor should we admit the existence of several intelligences, merely because we distinguish a thinker from a consciousness of the thinker. Though there be a difference between thinking, and thinking that one thinks, these two nevertheless constitute a single intuitive consciousness of its actualizations. It would be ridiculous to deny such a consciousness to veritable Intelligence. It is therefore the same Intelligence that thinks, and that thinks that it thinks. Otherwise there would be two principles, of which the one would have thought, and the other consciousness of thought. The second would doubtless differ from the first, but would not be the real thinking principle. A mere logical distinction between thought and consciousness of thought would not establish the (actual) differences between two (hypostatic substances). Further, we shall have to consider whether it be possible to conceive of an Intelligence which would exclusively think, without any accompanying consciousness of its thought. If we ourselves who are entirely devoted to practical activity and discursive reason were in such a condition, we would, even if otherwise considered sensible, be insane. But as true Intelligence thinks itself in its thoughts, and as the intelligible, far from being outside of Intelligence, is Intelligence itself, Intelligence, by thinking, possesses itself, and necessarily sees itself. When Intelligence sees itself, it does not see itself as unintelligent, but as intelligent. Therefore in the first actualization of thought, Intelligence has the thought and consciousness of thought, two things that form but a single one; not even logically is this a duality. If Intelligence always thinks what it is, is there any reason to separate, even by a simple logical distinction, thought from the consciousness of thought? The absurdity of the doctrine we are controverting will be still more evident if we suppose that a third intelligence is conscious that the second intelligence is conscious of the thought of the first; we might thus go on to infinity. [Ennead II,9 (33) 1]

In the intelligible world, therefore, we shall not recognize more than three principles (Unity, Intelligence, and Soul), without those superfluous and incongruous fictions. We shall insist that there is a single Intelligence that is identical, and immutable, which imitates its Father so far as it can. Then there is our soul, of which one part ever remains among the intelligibles, while one part descends to sense-objects, and another abides in an intermediary region. As our soul is one nature in several powers, she may at times entirely rise to the intelligible world, with the best part of herself and of essence; at other times the soul’s lower part allows itself to be dragged down to the earth, carrying with it the intermediate portion; for the soul cannot be entirely dragged down. This being dragged down occurs only because the soul does not abide in the better region. While dwelling in it, the Soul, which is not a part (of it) and of which we are not a part, has given to the body of the universe all the perfections of which she was capable. The Soul governs it by remaining quiet, without reasoning, without having to correct anything. With wonderful power she beautifies the universe by the contemplation of the intelligible world. The more the Soul attaches herself to contemplation, the more powerful and beautiful she is; what she receives from above, she communicates to the sense-world, and illuminates because she herself is always illuminated (by Intelligence). [Ennead II,9 (33) 2]

Thus the Soul, ever being illuminated, in turn herself illuminates lower things that subsist only through her, like plants that feed on dew, and which participate in life, each according to its capacity. Likewise a fire heats the objects that surround it, each in proportion to its nature. Now if such is the effect of fire whose power is limited, while intelligible beings exert unlimited powers, how would it be possible for these beings to exist without causing anything to participate in their nature? Each of them must therefore communicate some degree of its perfection to other beings. The Good would no longer be the good, Intelligence would no longer be intelligence, the Soul would no longer be soul, if, beneath that which possesses the first degree of life, there was not some other thing which possessed the second degree of life, and which subsisted only so long as subsists He who occupies the first rank. It is therefore unavoidable that all things (inferior to the First) must always exist in mutual dependence, and that they be begotten, because they derive their existence from some other source. They were not begotten at a definite moment. When we affirm that they are begotten, we should say, they were begotten, or, they shall be begotten. Nor will they be destroyed, unless they are composed of elements in which they could be dissolved. Those that are indissoluble will not perish. It may be objected that they could be resolved into matter. But why should matter also not be liable to be destroyed? If it were granted that matter was liable to destruction, there was no necessity for its existence. It may be further objected that the existence of matter necessarily results from the existence of other principles. In this case, this necessity still subsists. If matter is to be considered as isolated (from the intelligible world), then the divine principles also, instead of being present everywhere, will, as it were, be walled up in a limited place. But if the latter be impossible, then must matter be illuminated (by the intelligible world). [Ennead II,9 (33) 3]

We hardly know what to say of the other new conceptions they have injected into the universe, such as exiles, antitypes, and repentances. If by “repentances” and “exiles” they mean certain states of the Soul (in the normal meaning of the word, where a soul) yields to repentance; and if by “antitypes” they mean the images of the intelligible beings that the Soul contemplates before contemplating the intelligible beings themselves, they are using meaningless words, invented merely as catchwords and terms for their individual sect; for they imagine such fictions merely because they have failed clearly to understand the ancient wisdom of the Greeks. Before them the Greeks, clearly and simply, had spoken of “ascensions” of souls that issued from the “cavern,” and which insensibly rise to a truer contemplation. The doctrines of these (Gnostics) are partly stolen from Plato, while the remainder, which were invented merely to form their own individual system, are innovations contrary to truth. It is from Plato that they borrowed their judgments, the rivers of Hades. They do speak of several intelligible principles, such as essence, intelligence, the second demiurgic creator or universal Soul; but all that comes from Plato’s Timaeus  , which says, “Likewise as the ideas contained in the existing Organism were seen by Intelligence, so he [the creator of this universe] thought that the latter should contain similar and equally numerous (natures).” But, not clearly understanding Plato, the Gnostics here imagined (three principles), an intelligence at rest, which contains all (beings), a second intelligence that contemplates them (as they occur) in the first intelligence, and a third intelligence that thinks them discursively. They often consider this discursive intelligence as the creative soul, and they consider this to be the demiurgic creator mentioned by Plato, because they were entirely ignorant of the true nature of this demiurgic creator. In general, they alter entirely the idea of creation, as well as many other doctrines of Plato, and they give out an entirely erroneous interpretation thereof. They imagine that they alone have rightly conceived of intelligible nature, while Plato and many other divine intellects never attained thereto. By speaking of a multitude of intelligible principles, they think that they seem to possess an exact knowledge thereof, while really they degrade them, assimilating them to lower, and sensual beings, by increasing their number. The principles that exist on high must be reduced to the smallest number feasible; we must recognize that the principle below the First contains all (the essences), and so deny the existence of any intelligible (entities) outside of it, inasmuch as it contains all beings, by virtue of its being primary “Being,” of primary Intelligence, and of all that is beautiful beneath the First Himself. The Soul must be assigned to the third rank. The differences obtaining between souls must further be explained by the difference of their conditions or nature. [Ennead II,9 (33) 6]

To ask (as do the Gnostics) why the world was created, amounts to asking the reason of the existence of the universal Soul, and of the creation of the demiurgic creator himself. To ask such a question well characterizes men who first wish to find a principle of that which (in the world) is eternal, but who later opine that the demiurgic creator became the creating cause only as a result of an inclination or alteration. If indeed they be at all willing to listen to us fairly, we shall have to teach them the nature of these intelligible principles, to end their habit of scorning (those) venerable (intelligible) beings, and (to induce them to) pay these a deserved respect. No one, indeed, has the right to find fault with the constitution of the world, which reveals the greatness of intelligible nature. We are forced to recognize that the world is a beautiful and brilliant statue of the divinities, from the fact that the world achieved existence without beginning with an obscure life, such as that of the little organisms it contains, and which the productiveness of universal life never ceases to bring forth, by day or night; on the contrary, its life is continuous, clear, manifold, extended everywhere, and illustrating marvellous wisdom. It would be no more than natural that the world should not equal the model it imitates; otherwise, it would no longer be an imitation. It would be an error, however, to think that the world imitates its model badly; it lacks none of the things that could be contained by a beautiful and natural image; for it was necessary for this image to exist, without implying reasoning or skill. [Ennead II,9 (33) 8]

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 could this newly formed image (the demiurgic creator) have undertaken to create by memory of the things he knew? As he did not exist before, he could not have known anything, any more than the mother (Wisdom) which is attributed to him. Besides, it is quite surprising that, though the (Gnostics) did not descend upon this world as images of souls, but as veritable, genuine souls, nevertheless hardly one or two of them succeeds in detaching themselves from the (sense) world and by gathering together their memories, to remember some of the things they previously knew, while this image (the demiurgical creator), as well as his mother (Wisdom), which is a material image, was capable of conceiving intelligible entities in a feeble manner, indeed, as say the Gnostics, but after all from her very birth. Not only did she conceive intelligible things, and formed an idea of the sense-world from the intelligible world, but she also discovered with what elements she was to produce the sense-world. Why did she first create the fire? Doubtless because she judged she would begin thereby; for why did she not begin with some other element? If she could produce fire because she had the conception thereof, why, as she had the conception of the world — as she must have begun by a conception of the totality — did she not create the whole at one single stroke? Indeed, this conception of the world embraced all its parts. It would also have been more natural, for the demiurgical creator should not have acted like a workman, as all the arts are posterior to nature and to the creation of the world. Even to-day, we do not see the natures when they beget individuals, first produce the fire, then the other elements successively, and finally mingle them. On the contrary, the outline and organization of the entire organism are formed at once in the germ born at the monthly periods in the womb of the mother. Why then, in creation, should matter not have been organized at one stroke by the type of the world, a type that must have contained fire, earth, and all the rest of them? Perhaps the (Gnostics) would have thus conceived of the creation of the world, if (instead of an image) they had had in their system a genuine Soul. But their demiurgic creator could not have proceeded thus. To conceive of the greatness, and especially of the dimension of the heavens, of the obliquity of the zodiac, of the course of the stars, the form of the earth, and to understand the reason of each of these things, would not have been the work of an image, but rather of a power that proceeded from the better principles, as the (Gnostics) in spite of themselves acknowledge. [Ennead II,9 (33) 12]

Indeed, if we examine attentively that in which this illumination of the darkness consists, the (Gnostics) may be led to a recognition of the true principles of the world. Why was the production of this illumination of the darkness necessary, if its existence was not absolutely unavoidable? This necessity (of an illumination of the darkness) was either in conformity with, or in opposition to nature. If it conformed thereto, it must have been so from all time; if it were contrary thereto, something contrary to nature would have happened to the divine powers, and evil would be prior to the world. Then it would no longer be the world that was the cause of evil (as the Gnostics claim), but the divine powers. The world is not the principle of evil for the soul, but it is the soul that is the principle of evil for the world. Ascending from cause to cause, reason will relate this world to the primary principles. [Ennead II,9 (33) 12]

If matter is also said to be the cause of evil, where does it originate? For the darkness existed already, as say (the Gnostics), when the soul has seen and illuminated them. From whence (comes darkness)? If (the Gnostics) answer that it is the soul herself that created (darkness) by inclining (downwards to matter), then evidently (the darkness) did not exist before the inclination of the soul. Darkness therefore is not the cause of this inclination; the cause is in the nature of the soul. This cause may thus be related to preceding necessities, and as a result to first principles. [Ennead II,9 (33) 12]

Those who complain of the nature of the world do not know what they are doing, nor the extent of their audacity. Many men are ignorant of the close concatenation which unites the entities of the first, second, and third ranks, and which descends even to those of the lowest degree. Instead of blaming what is subordinate to first principles, we should gently submit to the laws of the universe, rise to first principles, not undergo those tragic terrors, inspired in certain people by the spheres of the world which exert on us nothing but a beneficent influence. What is so terrible in them? Why should they be feared by these men foreign to philosophy and all sound learning? Though celestial spheres do have fiery bodies, they should not inspire us with any fear, because they are perfectly harmonious with the universe and with the earth. We must besides consider the souls of the stars to which those (Gnostics) consider themselves so superior, while their bodies, which surpass ours so much in size and beauty, efficaciously concur in the production of things that are conformed to the order of nature; for such things could not be born if first principles alone existed. Finally the stars complete the universe, and are important members thereof. If even man holds a great superiority over animals, there must be a far greater superiority in those stars which exist as ornaments to the universe, and to establish order therein, and not to exert thereover a tyrannical influence. The events that are said to flow from the stars are rather signs thereof than causes. Besides, the events that really do flow from the stars differ among each other by circumstances. It is not therefore possible that the same things should happen to all men, separated as they are by their times of birth, the places of their residence, and the dispositions of their souls. It is just as unreasonable to expect that all would be good, nor, because of the impossibility of this, to go and complain on the grounds that all sense-objects should be similar to intelligible objects. Moreover, evil is nothing but what is less complete in respect to wisdom, and less good, in a decreasing gradation. For instance, nature (that is, the power of growth and generation) should not be called evil because she is not sensation; nor sensation be called evil, because it is not reason. Otherwise, we might be led to think that there was evil in the intelligible world. Indeed, the Soul is inferior to Intelligence, and Intelligence is inferior to the One. [Ennead II,9 (33) 13]

Another error of the (Gnostics) is their teaching that intelligible beings are not beyond the reach of being affected by human beings. When the (Gnostics) utter magic incantations, addressing them to (intelligible beings), not only to the Soul, but to the Principles superior thereto, what are they really trying to do? To bewitch them? To charm them? Or, to influence them? They therefore believe that divine beings listen to us, and that they obey him who skilfully pronounces these songs, cries, aspirations and whistlings, to all of which they ascribe magic power. If they do not really mean this, if they by sounds only claim to express things which do not fall under the senses, then, through their effort to make their art more worthy of respect, they unconsciously rob it of all claim to respect, in our estimation. [Ennead II,9 (33) 14]

Nevertheless, those who know the Divinity should attach themselves to Him even here below, and by devoting themselves to His first principles, correct earthly things by applying their divine nature thereto. Only a nature that disdains physical pleasure can understand that of which honor consists; those who have no virtue could never rise to intelligible entities. Our criticism of the (Gnostics) is justified by this that they never speak of virtue, never study it, give no definition of it, do not make out its kinds, and never repeat anything of the beautiful discussions thereof left to us by the ancient sages. The (Gnostics) never tell how one could acquire or preserve moral qualities, how one should cultivate or purify the soul. Their precept, “Contemplate the divinity,” is useless if one does not also teach how this contemplation is to take place. One might ask the (Gnostics) if such contemplation of the divinity would be hindered by any lust or anger? What would hinder one from repeating the name of the divinity, while yielding to the domination of the passions, and doing nothing to repress them? Virtue, when perfected, and by wisdom solidly established in the soul, is what shows us the divinity. Without real virtue, God is no more than a name. [Ennead II,9 (33) 15]

The (Gnostics) pretend that they have no appreciation for the beauty of the world, and that they make no distinction between beautiful and ugly bodies. In this case they should not distinguish good from bad taste, nor recognize beauty in the sciences, in contemplation, nor in the divinity itself; for sense-beings possess beauty only by participation in first principles. If they be not beautiful, neither could those first principles be such. Consequently sense-beings are beautiful, though less beautiful than intelligible beings. The scorn professed by (Gnostics) for sense-beauty is praiseworthy enough if it refer only to the beauty of women and of young boys, and if its only purpose be to lead to chastity. But you may be sure that they do not boast of scorning what is ugly, they only boast of scorning what they had at first recognized and loved as being beautiful. [Ennead II,9 (33) 17]

Another objection is that length of time would give opportunity for doing many beautiful deeds; while this opportunity is denied him who lives happily only a short period. This may be answered by denying happiness to a man on the grounds of having done many beautiful deeds. If several parts of time and several actions are to constitute happiness, then it would be constituted by things that are no more, that are past, and by present things; whereas our definition of happiness limits it exclusively to the present. Then we considered whether length of time add to happiness. There remains only to examine whether happiness of long duration be superior because of yielding opportunities of doing more beautiful deeds. To begin with, the man who is inactive may be just as happy, if not more happy than he who is active. Besides, it is not actions themselves which yield happiness; (the sources of happiness) are states of mind, which are the principles of beautiful actions. The wise man enjoys welfare while active, but not because of this activity; he derives (this welfare) not from contingent things, but from what he possesses in himself. For it might happen even to a vicious man to save his fatherland, or to feel pleasure in seeing it saved by some other. It is not then these activities which are the causes of the enjoyment of happiness. True beatitude and the joys it yields must be derived from the constant disposition of the soul. To predicate it of activity, would be to make it depend on things alien to virtue and the soul. The soul’s actualization consists in being wise, and in exercising her self-activity; this is true happiness. [Ennead I,5 (36) 10]

What happens when a mass of water transforms itself into air? This question demands particular treatment; for how can the transformed element occupy a greater extension? (We shall not try to explain it on either the Peripatetic or Stoic principles) because we have sufficiently developed above the numerous reasons advanced by both those schools. We had better now consider which of the two systems we ourselves might adopt, and on which side lies reason. Besides, we should consider whether, besides these both, there be not place for a third opinion. [Ennead II,7 (37) 2]

If the divinity reason, we are forced to wonder what are the principles of this reasoning; for, if it were objected that these principles are derived from some other reasoning, we shall, nevertheless, in the process of ascending, have to find something anterior to all reasoning; namely, a point of departure. Now from whence are the principles of reasoning derived? Either from the senses or the intelligence. (Could the divinity have made use of principles derived from the senses?) (When God created) there were no senses in existence yet; therefore (the divinity must have reasoned) from principles derived from Intelligence. But if the premises were conceptions of Intelligence, then it was impossible for knowledge and reasoning to have some sense-thing as object, as reasoning that has intelligible principles and conclusion could not result in producing a conception of the sense-(world). Therefore the foresight which presided over the creation of a living being or of a whole world could not have been the result of reasoning. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 1]

Such considerations have been arrived at merely as result of scrutiny of the consequences of the principles laid down. Our purpose was to discover how sensibility occurs in the man himself, without intelligible things falling into generation. We recognized and demonstrated that intelligible things do not incline towards sense-things, but that, on the contrary, it is the latter that aspire and rise to the former, and imitate them; that the sense-man derives from the intellectual man the power of contemplating intelligible entities, though the sense-man remain united to sense-things, as the intellectual man remains united to the intelligible entities. Indeed, intelligible things are in some respects sensual; and we may call them such because (ideally) they are Bodies, but they are perceived in a manner different from bodies. Likewise, our sensations are less clear than the perception which occurs in the intelligible world, and that we also call Sensation, because it refers to Bodies (which exist on high only in an ideal manner). Consequently, we call the man here below sensual because he perceives less well things which themselves are less good; that is, which are only images of intelligible things. We might therefore say that sensations here below are obscure thoughts, and that the Thoughts on high are distinct Sensations. Such are our views about sensibility. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 7]

Neither Intelligence, nor the Soul that proceeds therefrom, are simple; both contain the universality of things with their infinite variety, so far as these are simple, meaning that they are not composite, but that they are principles and actualizations; for, in the intelligible world, the actualization of what occupies the last rank is simple; the actualization of what occupies the first rank is universal. Intelligence, in its uniform movement, always trends towards similar and identical things; nevertheless, each of them is identical and single, without being a part; it is on the contrary universal, because what, in the intelligible world, is a part, is not a simple unit, but a unity that is infinitely divisible. In this movement, Intelligence starts from one object, and goes to another object which is its goal. But does all that is intermediary resemble a straight line, or to a uniform and homogeneous body? There would be nothing remarkable about that; for if Intelligence did not contain differences, if no diversity awoke it to life, it would not be an actualization; its state would not differ from inactivity. If its movement were determined in a single manner, it would possess but a single kind of (restricted) life, instead of possessing the universal Life. Now it should contain an universal and omnipresent Life; consequently, it must move, or rather have been moved towards all (beings). If it were to move in a simple and uniform manner, it would possess but a single thing, would be identical with it, and no longer proceed towards anything different. If however it should move towards something different, it would have to become something different, and be two things. If these two things were then to be identical, Intelligence would still remain one, and there would be no progress left; if, on the contrary, these two things were to be different, it would be proceeding with this difference, and it would, by virtue of this difference joined to its divinity, beget some third thing. By its origin, the latter is simultaneously identical and different; not of some particular difference, but of all kinds of difference, because the identity it contains is itself universal. Thus being universal difference as well as universal identity, this thing possesses all that is said to be different; for its nature is to be universal differentiation (to spread over everything, to become everything else). If all these differences preceded this (Intelligence), the latter would be modified by them. If this be not the case, Intelligence must have begotten all the differences, or rather, be their universality. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 13]

Let us consider the implications of the principles we have studied. If that which a being receives as good be everywhere a form, if the good of matter be a form, we might ask ourselves whether matter, granting it here the faculty of volition, would even wish to be a form? Such a wish would be tantamount to a wish to be destroyed. (But matter could not wish this), for every being seeks its own good. But perhaps matter might not wish to be matter, but simply to be essence; possessing which, matter would wish to free itself from all the evil within it. But how can that which is evil (for such is the nature of matter) desire the good? Besides, we are not attributing desire to matter itself. It was only to meet the exigencies of the discussion that we employed the hypothesis which accorded sensibility to matter, if indeed it can be granted to matter without destroying its nature. We have at least shown that when form has come, as a dream of the Good, to unite itself to matter, the latter found itself in a better condition. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 28]

We (might answer), how can one say of this being that it obeys, if it be not constrained to follow something external? How would the being that directs itself towards the Good be constrained, if its desire be voluntary, if it direct itself towards the Good, knowing that it is such? Only involuntarily does a being depart from the Good, only by constraint does it direct itself towards that which is not its good; that is the very nature of servitude, not to be able to reach one’s own good, and to be thwarted by a superior power to which obedience is compulsory. Servitude displeases us, not because it deprives us of the liberty to do evil, but because it hinders us going towards our own, from ensuing our own good, forced as we are to work at the good of someone else. When we speak of “obeying our nature,” we distinguish (in the being that obeys its nature) two principles, the one which commands, and the other which obeys. [Ennead VI,8 (39) 4]

A still more important reason for the immortality of the heaven is that the universal Soul, moving with remarkable spontaneity, immediately succeeds the most perfect principles (such as the Good, and Intelligence). She could not therefore allow the annihilation of anything which had once been posited within her. Ignorance of the cause that contains the universe could alone permit denial that the universal Soul which emanates from the divinity excels all other bonds in strength. It is absurd to believe that after having contained something during a certain period, she could ever cease doing so. This would imply that she had done so till now by some violence; which would again infer the existence of some plan more natural than the actual state, and actual admirable disposition of beings within the very constitution of the universe; which would lastly suggest a force capable of destroying the organization of the universe, and of undermining the sovereignty of the governing Soul. [Ennead II,1 (40) 4]

Besides, when they count but a single substance, they do not enumerate the beings themselves, but they seek their principles. Now there is a great difference between treating of principles and treating of beings. If the Stoics recognize no essence other than matter, and think that other things are modifications of matter, they are wrong in reducing essence and other things to a common class; they should rather say that essence is being, and that other things are modifications, and then distinguish between these modifications. Further, it is absurd to assert that (among essences), some should be substances, and others should be other things (such as qualities, modes and relations); for the Stoics recognize but a single substance, which does not contain any difference, unless by division as of mass into parts; besides, they should not attribute divisibility to their substance, because they teach that it is continuous. They should therefore say, “substance” (and not “substances”). [Ennead VI,1 (42) 25]

What is most shocking in the Stoic doctrine, is that they assign the first rank to what is only a potentiality, matter, instead of placing actualization before potentiality. It is impossible for the potential to pass to actualization if the potential occupy the first rank among beings. Indeed, the potential could never improve itself; and it implies the necessary anteriority of actualization; in which case potentiality is no longer a principle. Or, if it be insisted that actualization and potentiality must be simultaneous, both principles will be found depending on chance. Besides, even if actualization be contemporaneous with potentiality, why should not the first rank be assigned to actualization? Why should this (matter) be an essence, rather than those (forms)? Whoever asserts that form is posterior bears the burden of proof; for matter does not beget form, and quality could not arise from what has no quality; nor actualization from what is potential; otherwise, actualization would have existed anteriorly, even in the system of the Stoics. According to them, even God is no longer simple: He is posterior to matter; for He is a body constituted by form and matter. Whence then does He derive His form? If the divinity exist without matter, He is incorporeal, by virtue of His being principle and reason, and the active principle would thus be incorporeal. If, even without having matter, the divinity be composite in essence, by virtue of His body, the Stoics will have to postulate some other kind of matter which may better suit the divinity. [Ennead VI,1 (42) 26]

The Stoic theory raises numberless further objections; but we halt here lest we ourselves incur ridicule in combating so evident an absurdity. It suffices if we have demonstrated that these philosophers mistake non-essence for absolute essence; (putting the cart before the horse), they assign the First rank to what should occupy the last. The cause of their error is that they have chosen sensation as guide, and have consulted nothing else in determining both their principles, and consequences. Being persuaded that the bodies are genuine essences, and refusing to believe that they transform themselves into each other, they believed that what subsisted in them (in the midst of their changes) is the real essence, just as one might imagine that place, because it is indestructible, is more essential than (metabolic) bodies. Although in the system of the Stoics place remain unaltered, these philosophers should not have regarded as essence that which subsists in any manner soever; they should, first, have considered what are the characteristics necessarily possessed by essence, the presence of which (characteristics) makes it subsist without undergoing any alteration. Let us indeed suppose that a shadow would continuously subsist by following something which changes continuously; the shadow, however, would not be no more real than the object it follows. The sense-world, taken together with its multiple objects, is more of an essence than the things it contains, merely because it is their totality. Now if this subject, taken in its totality, be non-essence, how could it be a subject? The most surprising thing, however, is that the (Stoics), in all things following the testimony of sensation, should not also have affirmed that essence can be perceived by sensation; for, to matter, they do not attribute impenetrability, because it is a quality (and because, according to them, matter has no quality). If they insist that matter is perceived by intelligence, it could only be an irrational intelligence which would consider itself inferior to matter, and attribute to it, rather than to itself, the privilege of constituting genuine essence. Since in their system intelligence is non-essence, how could any credibility attach to that intelligence when it speaks of things superior to it, and with which it possesses no affinity? But we have said enough of the nature of these subjects, elsewhere. [Ennead VI,1 (42) 28]

As to the philosophers (Plato, for instance), who have taught other opinions about essences and their principles, considered as finite or infinite, corporeal or incorporeal, or both simultaneously corporeal or incorporeal, we will examine each of these opinions separately, considering also the historic objections of the ancient (philosophers). [Ennead VI,1 (42) 31]

If it were our opinion that essence was one, we would not need to study whether there was one single genus for all things, whether all genera could not be reduced to a single one; whether there were principles; whether the genera were at the same time principles; or whether all principles are genera, without saying conversely that all genera are principles; or, if we must distinguish between them, say that some principles are simultaneously genera, or some genera are principles, or, finally, whether all principles be genera without the genera being principles, and conversely. But, since we do not acknowledge that essence is one, the reasons for which were advanced by Plato and other philosophers, we find ourselves forced to treat all these questions, and first to explain why we recognize genera of essences, and what number we decide on. [Ennead VI,2 (43) 1]

Under these circumstances, the divisions that we establish are no more only genera, they are simultaneously the very principles of world-Essence; on the one hand they are genera, because they contain less extended genera, beneath which are species, which end in individuals; they are also principles, because world-Essence is composed of multiple elements, and because these elements constitute the totality of Essence. If it were only stated that world-Essence is composed of several elements, and that these elements, by co-operation, constitute the All, without adding that they branch out into lower species, our divisions would indeed be principles, but they would no longer be genera. For instance, if it be said that the sense-world is composed of four elements, such as fire, or other elements, these elements are indeed principles, but not genera, unless this name be used as a verbal similarity (or, homonym, or pun). [Ennead VI,2 (43) 2]

Admitting therefore the existence of certain genera, which are simultaneously principles, we must still consider whether they should be conceived so that these genera, along with the things contained by each of them, commingle, fuse, and form the whole by their blending. If so, the genera would exist potentially, but not in actualization; none would have anything characteristic. Further, granting the distinctness of the genera, can we grant that the individuals blend? But what then would become of the genera themselves? Will they subsist by themselves, and will they remain pure, without mutual destruction of the mingled individuals? Later we shall indicate how such things could take place. [Ennead VI,2 (43) 2]

Now that we have explained the existence of genera, which, besides, are principles of being, and that from another point of view there are principles (or elements), and compounds, we shall have to set forth the criterion by which we constitute these genera; we shall have to ask how they may be distinguished from each other, instead of reducing them to a single (principle), as if they had been united by chance, although it does indeed seem more rational to reduce them to a single (principle). It would be possible to reduce them in this way if all things were species of essence, if the individuals were contained within these species, and if there were nothing outside of these species. But such a supposition would destroy the species — for such species would no longer be species, or forms; — and from that moment there would be no further need for reducing plurality to unity, and everything forming a single unity; so that, all things belonging to this One, no being outside of the One would exist, as far as it was something else. [Ennead VI,2 (43) 2]

If, on occupying ourselves with this sense-world, we wished to determine the nature of bodies, would we not begin by studying some part thereof, such as a stone? We could then distinguish therein substance, quantity — such as dimension — and quality, such as color; and after having discovered these same elements in other bodies, we could say that the elements of the corporeal nature are being, quantity, and quality; but that these three coexist; and that, though thought distinguish them, all three form but one and the same body. If, besides, we were to recognize that movement is proper to this same organization, would we not add it to the three elements already distinguished? These four elements, however, would form but a single one, and the body, though one, would, in its nature, be the reunion of all four. We shall have to take the same course with our present subject, intelligible Being, and its genera and principles. Only, in this comparison, we shall have to make abstraction of all that is peculiar to bodies, such as generation, sense-perception, and extension. After having established this separation, and having thus distinguished essentially different things, we shall arrive at the conception of a certain intelligible existence, which possesses real essence, and unity in a still higher degree. From this standpoint, one might be surprised how the (substance which is thus) one can be both one and many. In respect to bodies, it is generally recognized that the same thing is both one and many; the body can indeed be divided infinitely; color and appearance, for instance, are therein very differing properties, since they are separated here below. But in respect to the soul, if she be conceived as one, without extent, dimension and absolutely simple, as it appears at first sight, how could we, after that, believe that the soul were manifold? We should have here expected to reach unity, all the more as, after having divided the animal in body and soul, and after having demonstrated that the body is multiform, composite and diverse, one might well, on the contrary, have expected to find the soul simple; and to have accepted this conclusion as final, as the end of our researches. We would thus have taken the soul as a sample of the intelligible world, just as the body represents the sense-world. Having thus considered this soul, let us examine how this unity can be manifold; how, in its turn, the manifold can be unity; not indeed a composite formed of separable parts, but a single nature simultaneously one and manifold. For, as we have already said, it is only by starting from this point and demonstrating it, that we will establish solidly the truth about the genera of essence. [Ennead VI,2 (43) 4]

As to the things which are simply posited as attributes, they should, as principles or elements, be classified under relation. Among the accidents of things, some, like quantity and quality, are contained within them; while others contain them, as time and place. Then there are actions and experiences, as movements; then their consequences, as “being in time,” and “being in place”; the latter is the consequence of the combination, the former is the consequence of movement. [Ennead VI,3 (44) 3]

How shall we define the aeon (or, eternity)? Shall we say that it is the intelligible “being” (or, nature) itself, just as we might say that time is the heaven and the universe, as has been done, it seems, by certain (Pythagorean) philosophers? Indeed, as we conceive and judge that the aeon (eternity) is something very venerable, we assert the same of intelligible “being,” and yet it is not easy to decide which of the two should occupy the first rank; as, on the other hand, the principle which is superior to them (the One) could not be thus described, it would seem that we would have the right to identify intelligible “being” (or, nature), and the aeon (or, eternity), so much the more as the intelligible world and the aeon (age, or eternity), comprise the same things. Nevertheless, were we to place one of these principles within the other, we would posit intelligible nature (“being”) within the aeon (age, or eternity). Likewise, when we say that an intelligible entity is eternal, as (Plato) does: “the nature of the model is eternal,” we are thereby implying that the aeon (age or eternity) is something distinct from intelligible nature (“being”), though referring thereto, as attribute or presence. The mere fact that both the aeon (eternity) and intelligible nature (“being”), are both venerable does not imply their identity; the venerableness of the one may be no more than derivative from that of the other. The argument that both comprise the same entities would still permit intelligible nature (“being”) to contain all the entities it contains as parts, while the aeon (or age, or eternity) might contain them as wholes, without any distinctions as parts; it contains them, in this respect, that they are called eternal on its account. [Ennead III,7 (45) 2]

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]

When Epicurus derives the existence and constitution of the universe from automatism and chance, he commits an absurdity, and stultifies himself. That is self-evident, though the matter have elsewhere been thoroughly demonstrated. But (if the world do not owe its origin to chance) we will be compelled to furnish an adequate reason for the existence and creation of all these beings. This (teleological) question deserves the most careful consideration. Things that seem evil do indeed exist, and they do suggest doubts about universal Providence; so that some (like Epicurus) insist there is no providence, while others (like the Gnostics), hold that the demiurgic creator is evil. The subject, therefore, demands thorough investigation of its first principles. [Ennead III,2 (47) 1]

Let us, therefore, more clearly define the Reason (of the universe), and let us demonstrate that it should be what it is. To reach our conclusion more quickly, let us grant the existence of this Reason. This Reason (of the universe) is not pure, absolute Intelligence. Neither is it the pure Soul, but it depends therefrom. It is a ray of light that springs both from Intelligence and from the Soul united to Intelligence. These two principles beget Reason, that is, a rational quiet life. Now all life is an actualization, even that which occupies the lowest rank. But the actualization (which constitutes the life of Reason) is not similar to the actualization of fire. The actualization of the life (peculiar to Reason), even without feeling, is not a blind movement. All things that enjoy the presence of Reason, and which participate therein in any manner soever, immediately receive a rational disposition, that is, a form; for the actualization which constitutes the life (of the Reason) can impart its forms, and for that actualization motion is to form beings. Its movement, like that of a dancer, is, therefore, full of art. A dancer, indeed, gives us the image of that life full of art; it is the art that moves it, because the art itself is its life. All this is said to explain the nature of life, whatever it be. [Ennead III,2 (47) 16]

Circumstances, therefore, are not decisive of human fortune; they themselves only derive naturally from superior principles, and result from the mutual concatenation of all things. This concatenation, however, derives from the (Stoic) “predominant (element in the universe”), and every being contributes to it according to its nature; just as, in an army, the general commands, and the soldiers carry out his orders cooperatively. In the universe, in fact, everything has been strategically ordered by Providence, like a general, who considers everything, both actions and experiences, victuals and drink, weapons and implements, arranging everything so that every detail finds its suitable location. Thus nothing happens which fails to enter into the general’s plan, although his opponents’ doings remain foreign to his influence, and though he cannot command their army. If indeed, Providence were “the great Chief over all,” to whom the universe is subordinated, what could have disarranged His plans, and could have failed to be intimately associated therewith? [Ennead III,3 (48) 2]

Men (therefore, not being only what they were made) possess another principle (free intelligence with reason); but not all make use of all the principles they possess; some make use of the one principle (their intelligence), while others make use of the other (principle of reason), or even of the lower principle (of imagination and sensation). All these principles are present in the man, even when they do not react on him; and even in this case, they are not inert; each fulfils its peculiar office; only they do not all act simultaneously upon him (or, are not perceived by his consciousness). It may seem difficult to understand how this may be the case with all of them present, and it might seem easier to consider them absent; but they are present in us, in the sense that we lack none of them; although we might consider them absent in the sense that a principle that does not react on a man might be considered absent from him. It might be asked why these principles do not react on all men, since they are part of them? We might, referring chiefly to this (free, intelligent, reasonable) principle, say that first, it does not belong to animals; second, it is not even (practiced) by all men. If it be not present in all men, so much the more is it not alone in them, because the being in whom this principle alone is present lives according to this principle, and lives according to other principles only so far as he is compelled by necessity. The cause (which hinders intelligence and reason from dominating us) will have to be sought in the (Stoic) substrate of the man, either because our corporeal constitution troubles the superior principle (of reason and intelligence), or because of the predominance of our passions. [Ennead III,3 (48) 4]

What qualities does Intelligence display in the intelligible world? What qualities does it discover in itself by contemplation? To begin with, we must not form of Intelligence a conception showing a figure, or colors, like bodies. Intelligence existed before bodies. The “seminal reasons” which produce figure and color are not identical with them; for “seminal reasons” are invisible. So much the more are intelligible entities invisible; their nature is identical with that of the principles in which they reside, just as “seminal reasons” are identical with the soul that contains them. But the soul does not see the entities she contains, because she has not begotten them; even she herself, just like the “reasons,” is no more than an image (of Intelligence). The principle from which she comes possesses an evident existence, that is genuine, and primary; consequently, that principle exists of and in itself. But this image (which is in the soul) is not even permanent unless it belong to something else, and reside therein. Indeed, the characteristic of an image is that it resides in something else, since it belongs to something else, unless it remain attached to its principle. Consequently, this image does not contemplate, because it does not possess a light that is sufficient; and even if it should contemplate, as it finds its perfection in something else, it would be contemplating something else, instead of contemplating itself. The same case does not obtain in Intelligence; there the contemplated entity and contemplation co-exist, and are identical. Who is it, therefore, that declares the nature of the intelligible? The power that contemplates it, namely, Intelligence itself. Here below our eyes see the light because our vision itself is light, or rather because it is united to light; for it is the colors that our vision beholds. On the contrary, Intelligence does not see through something else, but through itself, because what it sees is not outside of itself. It sees a light with another light, and not by another light; it, is therefore, a light that sees another; and, consequently, it sees itself. This light, on shining in the soul, illuminates her; that is, intellectualizes her; assimilates her to the superior light (namely, in Intelligence). If, by the ray with which this light enlightens the soul, we judge of the nature of this light and conceive of it as still greater, more beautiful, and more brilliant, we will indeed be approaching Intelligence and the intelligible world; for, by enlightening the soul, Intelligence imparts to her a clearer life. This life is not generative, because Intelligence converts the soul towards Intelligence; and, instead of allowing the soul to divide, causes the soul to love the splendor with which she is shining. Neither is this life one of the senses, for though the senses apply themselves to what is exterior, they do not, on that account, learn anything beyond (themselves). He who sees that superior light of the verities sees much better things that are visible, though in a different manner. It remains, therefore, that the Intelligence imparts to the soul the intellectual life, which is a trace of her own life; for Intelligence possesses the realities. It is in the life and the actualization which are characteristic of Intelligence that here consists the primary Light, which from the beginning, illumines itself, which reflects on itself, because it is simultaneously enlightener and enlightened; it is also the true intelligible entity, because it is also at the same time thinker and thought. It sees itself by itself, without having need of anything else; it sees itself in an absolute manner, because, within it, the known is identical with the knower. It is not otherwise in us; it is by Intelligence that we know intelligence. Otherwise, how could we speak of it? How could we say that it was capable of clearly grasping itself, and that, by it, we understand ourselves? How could we, by these reasonings, to Intelligence reduce our soul which recognizes that it is the image of Intelligence, which considers its life a faithful imitation of the life of Intelligence, which thinks that, when it thinks, it assumes an intellectual and divine form? Should one wish to know which is this Intelligence that is perfect, universal and primary, which knows itself essentially, the soul has to be reduced to Intelligence; or, at least, the soul has to recognize that the actualization by which the soul conceives the entities of which the soul has the reminiscence is derived from Intelligence. Only by placing herself in that condition, does the soul become able to demonstrate that inasmuch as she is the image of Intelligence she, the soul, can by herself, see it; that is, by those of her powers which most exactly resemble Intelligence (namely, by pure thought); which resembles Intelligence in the degree that a part of the soul can be assimilated to it. [Ennead V,3 (49) 8]

If everything stopped there (and if there were nothing beyond the three principles here described), evil would not exist (and there would be nothing but goods). But there are goods of the first, second and third ranks. Though all relate to the King of all things, who is their author, and from whom they derive their goodness, yet the goods of the second rank relate more specially to the second principle; and to the third principle, the goods of the third rank. [Ennead I,8 (51) 2]

When (Theodor) tells (Socrates) that evils would be annihilated if men practised (Socrates’) teachings, the latter answers that that is impossible, for evil is necessary even if only as the contrary of good. But how then can wickedness, which is the evil of man, be the contrary of good? Because it is the contrary of virtue. Now virtue, without being Good in itself, is still a good, a good which makes us dominate matter. But how can Good in itself, which is not a quality, have a contrary? Besides, why need the existence of one thing imply its contrary? Though we may grant that there is a possibility of the existence of the contrary of some things — as for instance, that a man in good health might become sick — there is no such necessity. Nor does Plato assert that the existence of each thing of this kind necessarily implies that of its contrary; he makes this statement exclusively of the Good. But how can there be a contrary to good, if the good be “being,” let alone “above being”? Evidently, in reference to particular beings, there can be nothing contrary to “being.” This is proved by induction; but the proposition has not been demonstrated as regards universal Being. What then is the contrary of universal Being, and first principles in general? The contrary of “being” must be nonentity; the contrary of the nature of the Good is the nature and principle of Evil. These two natures are indeed respectively the principles of goods and of evils. All their elements are mutually opposed, so that both these natures, considered in their totality, are still more opposed than the other contraries. The latter, indeed, belong to the same form, to the same kind, and they have something in common in whatever subjects they may be. As to the Contraries that are essentially distinguished from each other, whose nature is constituted of elements opposed to the constitutive elements of the other, those Contraries are absolutely opposed to each other, since the connotation of that word implies things as opposite to each other as possible. Measure, determination, and the other characteristics of the divine nature are the opposites of incommensurability, indefiniteness, and the other contrary things that constitute the nature of evil. Each one of these wholes, therefore, is the contrary of the other. The being of the one is that which is essentially and absolutely false; that of the other is genuine Being; the falseness of the one is, therefore, the contrary of the truth of the other. Likewise what pertains to the being of the one is the contrary of what belongs to the being of the other. We also see that it is not always true to say that there is no contrary to “being,” for we acknowledge that water and fire are contraries, even if they did not contain the common element of matter, of which heat and cold, humidity and dryness, are accidents. If they existed alone by themselves, if their being were complete without any common subject, there would still be an opposition, and an opposition of “being.” Therefore the things that are completely separate, which have nothing in common, which are as distant as possible, are by nature contrary. This is not an opposition of quality, nor of any kinds of beings; it is an opposition resulting from extreme distance, and from being composed of contraries, thereby communicating this characteristic to their elements. [Ennead I,8 (51) 6]

The universe leads an universal and perfect life, because the good principles (the star-Souls) produce excellency, that is, the more excellent part in every object. These principles are subordinate to the Soul that governs the universe, as soldiers are to their general; consequently, (Plato) describes this by the figure of the attendants of Jupiter (the universal Soul) advancing to the contemplation of the intelligible world. [Ennead II,3 (52) 13]

It might here be objected that there could not be in the universe anything bad or contrary to nature; and it must be acknowledged that even what seems less good still has its utility. If this seem to admit that things that are less good contribute to the perfection of the universe, and that there is no necessity that all things be beautiful, it is only because the very contraries contribute to the perfection of the universe, and so the world could not exist without them. It is likewise with all living beings. The (“seminal) reason” necessarily produces and forms what is better; what is less good is contained in the “potentiality” of the “reasons,” and “actualized” in the begotten beings. The (universal) Soul has, therefore, no need to busy herself therewith, nor to cause the “reasons” to become active. For the “reasons” successfully subdue matter to what is better (the forms), even though matter alters what it receives by imparting a shock to the “reasons” that proceed from the higher principles. All things, therefore, form a harmonious totality because they simultaneously proceed from matter, and the “reasons” which beget them. [Ennead II,3 (52) 16]

Let us examine if the “reasons” contained in the Soul are thoughts. How could the Soul produce by thoughts? It is the Reason which produces in matter; but the principle that produces naturally is neither a thought nor an intuition, but a power that fashions matter unconsciously, just as a circle gives water a circular figure and impression. Indeed, the natural generative power has the function of production; but it needs the co-operation of the governing (principle) of the Soul, which forms and which causes the activity of the generative soul engaged in matter. If the governing power of the Soul form the generative soul by reasoning, it will be considering either another object, or what it possesses in herself. If the latter be the case, she has no need of reasoning, for it is not by reasoning that the Soul fashions matter, but by the power which contains the reasons, the power which alone is effective, and capable of production. The Soul, therefore, produces by the forms. The forms she transmits are by her received from the Intelligence. This Intelligence, however, gives the forms to the universal Soul which is located immediately below her, and the universal Soul transmits them to the inferior soul (the natural generative power), fashioning and illuminating her. The inferior soul then produces, at one time without meeting any obstacles, at others, when doing so, although, in the latter case, she produces things less perfect. As she has received the power of production, and as she contains the reasons which are not the first (the “seminal reasons,” which are inferior to the Ideas) not only does she, by virtue of what she has received, produce, but she also draws from herself something which is evidently inferior (matter). It doubtless produces a living being (the universe), but a living being which is less perfect, and which enjoys life much less, because it occupies the last rank, because it is coarse and hard to manage, because the matter which composes it is, as it were, the bitterness or the superior principles, because it spreads its bitterness around her, and communicates some of it to the universe. [Ennead II,3 (52) 17]

Must the evils in the universe be considered as necessary, because they are the consequences of the superior principles? Yes, for without them the universe would be imperfect. The greater number of evils, if not all of them, are useful to the universe; such as the venomous animals; though they often ignore their real utility. Even wickedness is useful in certain respects, and can produce many beautiful things; for example, it leads to fine inventions, it forces men to prudence, and does not let them fall asleep in an indolent security. [Ennead II,3 (52) 18]

Under these circumstances, it is plain that the universal Soul ever contemplates the better principles, because it is turned towards the intelligible world, and towards the divinity. As she fills herself with God, and is filled with God, she, as it were, overflows over her image, namely, the power which holds the last rank (the natural generative power), and which, consequently, is the last creative power. Above this creative power is the power of the Soul which immediately receives the forms from the Intelligence. Above all is the Intelligence, the Demiurge, who gives the forms to the universal Soul, and the latter impresses its traces on the third-rank power (the natural generative power). This world, therefore, is veritably a picture which perpetually pictures itself. The two first principles are immovable; the third is also immovable (in essence); but it is engaged in matter, and becomes immovable (only) by accident. As long as the Intelligence and the Soul subsist, the “reasons” flow down into this image of the Soul (the natural generative power); likewise, so long as the sun subsists, all light emanates therefrom. [Ennead II,3 (52) 18]

Let us first examine the soul (herself). Is there any difference between the soul and the soul-essence? If there be a difference, the soul must be a composite aggregate: and it should no longer be a matter of surprise that both she and her essence, at least so far as she admits thereof, together experience the above mentioned passions, and in general the habits, and better or worse dispositions. But, on the contrary, if, soul and soul-essence be identical, then the soul should be a form which would be unreceptive for all these energies of essence, which on the contrary she imparts to other things, possessing in herself a connate energy which our reason reveals in her. In this case we must acknowledge that she is immortal, inasmuch as the immortal and undecaying must be impassible, giving to others without receiving anything in return from them; or at least, deriving nothing but from the superior (or anterior) principles, from which she is not cut off, inasmuch as they are better. [Ennead I,1 (53) 2]

If now we should be asked how it happened that “we” feel, we answer: We are not separated from the organism, although within us exist principles of a higher kind which concur in forming the manifold complex of human nature. [Ennead I,1 (53) 7]