Guthrie-Plotinus: statue

But how shall we train this interior vision? At the moment of its (first) awakening, it cannot contemplate beauties too dazzling. Your soul must then first be accustomed to contemplate the noblest occupations of man, and then the beautiful deeds, not indeed those performed by artists, but those (good deeds) done by virtuous men. Later contemplate the souls of those who perform these beautiful actions. Nevertheless, how will you discover the beauty which their excellent soul possesses? Withdraw within yourself, and examine yourself. If you do not yet therein discover beauty, do as the artist, who cuts off, polishes, purifies until he has adorned his statue with all the marks of beauty. Remove from your soul, therefore, all that is superfluous, straighten out all that is crooked, purify and illuminate what is obscure, and do not cease perfecting your statue until the divine resplendence of virtue shines forth upon your sight, until you see temperance in its holy purity seated in your breast. When you shall have acquired this perfection; when you will see it in yourself; when you will purely dwell within yourself; when you will cease to meet within yourself any obstacle to unity; when nothing foreign will any more, by its admixture, alter the simplicity of your interior essence; when within your whole being you will be a veritable light, immeasurable in size, uncircumscribed by any figure within narrow boundaries, unincreasable because reaching out to infinity, and entirely incommensurable because it transcends all measure and quantity; when you shall have become such, then, having become sight itself, you may have confidence in yourself, for you will no longer need any guide. Then must you observe carefully, for it is only by the eye that then will open itself within you that you will be able to perceive supreme Beauty. But if you try to fix on it an eye soiled by vice, an eye that is impure, or weak, so as not to be able to support the splendor of so brilliant an object, that eye will see nothing, not even if it were shown a sight easy to grasp. The organ of vision will first have to be rendered analogous and similar to the object it is to contemplate. Never would the eye have seen the sun unless first it had assumed its form; likewise, the soul could never see beauty, unless she herself first became beautiful. To obtain the view of the beautiful, and of the divinity, every man must begin by rendering himself beautiful and divine. [Ennead I,6 (1) 9]

If the soul’s relation to the body is the same as that of the statue to the metal, the soul will be divided with the body, and on cutting a member a portion of the soul would be cut along with it. According to this teaching, the soul separates from the body only during sleep, since she must inhere in the body of which she is the entelechy, in which case sleep would become entirely inexplicable. If the soul be an entelechy, the struggle of reason against the passions would become entirely impossible. The entire human being will experience but one single sentiment, and never be in disagreement with itself. If the soul be an entelechy, there will perhaps still be sensations, but mere sensations; pure thoughts will have become impossible. Consequently the Peripateticians themselves are obliged to introduce (into human nature) another soul, namely, the pure intelligence, which they consider immortal. The rational soul, therefore, would have to be an entelechy in a manner different from their definition thereof, if indeed this name is at all to be used. [Ennead IV,7 (2) 8]

All things that we consider to be essences are composites; nothing is simple or single, either in works of art, or in the products of nature. Works of art, indeed, contain metal, wood, stone, and are derived from these substances only by the labor of the artist, who, by giving matter its form makes of it a statue, or bed, or house. Among the products of nature, those that are compounds or mixtures may be analyzed into the form impressed on the elements of the compound; so, for instance, we may in a man, distinguish a soul and body, and in the body four elements. Since the very matter of the elements, taken in itself, has no form, every object seems composed of matter and of some principle that supplies it with form. So we are led to ask whence matter derives its form, and to seek whether the soul is simple, or whether it contains two parts, one of which plays the parts of matter, and the other of form, so that the first part would be similar to the form received by the metal of a statue, and the latter to the principle which produces the form itself. [Ennead V,9 (5) 3]

Applying this conception to the universe, we rise to Intelligence, recognizing therein the demiurgic creator of the world. It was in receiving from it its shapes by the intermediation of another principle, the universal Soul, that the (material) substances became water, air, earth and fire. On the one hand, the Soul shapes the four elements of the world; on the other, she receives from Intelligence the (seminal) reasons, as the souls of the artists themselves receive from the arts the reasons which they work out. In Intelligence, therefore, there is a part which is the form of the soul; it is intelligence considered, as shape. There is another which imparts shape, like the sculptor who gives the metal the shape of the statue, and which in itself possesses all it gives. Now the (shapes) which the Intelligence imparts to the soul connect with the truth as closely as possible, while those which the soul imparts to the body are only images and appearances. [Ennead V,9 (5) 3]

Intelligence, therefore, essentially constitutes all beings; and when Intelligence thinks them, they are not outside of Intelligence, and neither precede nor follow it. Intelligence is the first legislator, or rather, it is the very law of existence. Parmenides   therefore was right in saying, “Thought is identical with existence.” The knowledge of immaterial things is therefore identical with those things themselves. That is why I recognize myself as a being, and why I have reminiscences of intelligible entities. Indeed, none of those beings is outside of Intelligence, nor is contained in any location; all of them subsist in themselves as immutable and indestructible. That is why they really are beings. If they were born, or perished, they would possess existence only in an incidental manner, they would no longer be beings; it would be the existence they possessed which would be essence. It is only by participation that sense-things are what they are said to be; the nature that constitutes their substance derives its shape from elsewhere, as the metal receives its shape from the sculptor, and wood from the carpenter; while the image of art penetrates into the matter, the art itself remains in its identity, and within itself possesses the genuine existence of the statue or of the bed. That is how the bodies’ general necessity of participating in images shows that they are different from the beings; for they change, while the entities are immutable, possess within themselves their own foundation, and have no need of existing in any location, since they have no extension, and since they subsist in an intellectual and absolute existence. Again, the existence of the bodies needs to be guarded by some other principle, while intelligence, which furnishes the existence for objects in themselves perishable, has need of nothing to make itself subsist. [Ennead V,9 (5) 5]

In this condition, indeed, the soul busies herself not even with the beautiful things, for she rises above beauty, and passes beyond even the (Stoic) “choir of virtues.” Thus he who penetrates into the interior of a sanctuary leaves behind him the statues placed (at the entrance) of the temple. These indeed are the first objects that will strike his view on his exit from the sanctuary, after he shall have enjoyed the interior spectacle, after having entered into intimate communion, not indeed with an image or statue, which would be considered only when he comes out, but with the divinity. The very word “divine spectacle” does not, here, seem sufficient (to express the contemplation of the soul); it is rather an ecstasy, a simplification, a self-abandonment, a desire for intercourse, a perfect quietude, and last, a wish to become indistinguishable from what was contemplated in the sanctuary. Any one who would seek to see the Divinity in any other way would be incapable of enjoying His presence. [Ennead VI,9 (9) 11]

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]

Let us first define potentiality. When a thing is said to exist potentially, this means that it does not exist absolutely. Necessarily, what exists potentially is potential only in relation to something else; for example, metal is the statue potentially. Of course, if nothing were to be done with this thing, or within it, if it were not to become something beyond itself, if there were no possibility of its becoming anything else, it would only be what it was already. How could it then become something different from what it was? It did not, therefore, exist potentially. Consequently, if, on considering what is a thing that exists potentially, and one that exists actually, we say that it exists potentially, we must mean that it might become different from what it is, whether, after having produced this different thing, it remain what it is, or whether, on becoming this different thing, which it is potentially, it ceases being what it is itself. Indeed, if metal be a statue potentially, this is a relation different from water being metal potentially, as air is potentially fire. [Ennead V,5 (25) 1]

Shall we say that what thus exists potentially is potentiality in respect of what is to be; as, for instance, that the metal is the potentiality of a statue? Not so, if we refer to the producing potentiality; for the producing potentiality cannot be said to exist potentially. If, then, we identified existing potentially not only with existing actually, but also with actuality, then potentiality would coincide with potential existence. It would be better and clearer, therefore, to contrast potential existence with actual existence, and potentiality with actuality. The thing which thus exists potentially is the substance underlying the reactions, shapes and forms which it is naturally fitted to receive, to which it aspires for their betterment or deterioration, and for the destruction of those whose actualization constitutes differentiation. [Ennead V,5 (25) 1]

As to matter, we shall have to examine whether it be something actually, while simultaneously it potentially is the shapes it receives; or whether it be nothing at all actually. Everything else of which we predicate potentiality passes on to actuality on receiving its form, and remaining the same. We may call a statue an actual statue, thus contrasting with it a potential statue; but an actual statue will not be implied by the metal which we called the potential statue. Consequently, what exists potentially does not become what exists actually; but from what was previously a potential (statue) proceeds what later is an actual (statue). Indeed, what exists actually is the compound, and not the matter; it is the form added to matter; this occurs when there is produced another being; when, for example, from the metal is made a statue; for the statue exists by this very being something other than the metal; namely, the compound. [Ennead V,5 (25) 2]

If however what is potential be the substrate, while the actual is both (potential and actual) at the same time, as in the (complete) statue, what then shall we call the form in the metal? We might well call the actuality by which some object exists actually, and not merely potentially, the form and shape; therefore not merely actuality, but the actuality of this individual thing. [Ennead V,5 (25) 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]

We must still further preliminarily insist on the impassibility of matter; for by using the usual terms we might be misled into wrongly thinking that matter could be affected. Thus Plato speaks of matter being set on fire, being wetted, and so forth, as if it received the shapes of air or water. However, Plato modifies the statement that “matter receives the shapes of air and water” by the statement that matter “is set on fire and wetted,” and he demonstrates that by receiving these shapes it nevertheless has none of its own, and that forms do not more than enter into it. This expression “matter is set on fire” must not be taken literally; it means only that matter becomes fire. Now to become fire is not the same thing as being set on fire; to be set on fire can achieve no more than what is different from fire, than what can be affected; for that which itself is a part of fire could not be set on fire. To insist on the opposite would amount to saying that metal itself formed a statue, or that fire itself spread into matter and set it on fire. The theory that a (“seminal) reason” had approached matter, forces us to question how this reason could have set matter on fire. The theory that a figure had approached matter would imply that that which is set on fire is already composed of two things (matter and a figure), and that these two entities form a single one. Although these two things would form a single one, they would not affect each other, and would act only on other entities. Nor would they even in this case act jointly; for one would effect no more than to hinder the other from avoiding (form). The theory that when the body is divided matter also must be divided, would have to answer the question, How could matter on being divided, escape the affection undergone by the composite (of form and matter)? On such a theory, one might even assert that matter was destroyed, and ask, Since the body is destroyed, why should not matter also be destroyed? What is affected and divided must be a quantity or magnitude. What is not a magnitude cannot experience the same modifications as a body. Therefore those who consider matter affectible would be forced to call it a body. [Ennead III,6 (26) 12]

Since he who rises to the contemplation of the intelligible world, and who conceives the beauty of true intelligence, can also, as we have pointed out, by intuition grasp the superior Principle, the Father of Intelligence, let us, so far as our strength allows us, try to understand and explain to ourselves how it is possible to contemplate the beauty of Intelligence and of the intelligible world. Let us imagine two pieces of marble placed side by side, the one rough and inartistic, the other one fashioned by the sculptor’s chisel, who made of it the statue of a goddess, a grace, or a muse; or that of a man — but not that of any individual whatever, but that of a (cultured gentle) man in whom art would have gathered all the traits of beauty offered by different individuals. After having thus from art received the beauty of the form, the second marble will appear beautiful, not by virtue of its essence, which is to be stone — for otherwise the other block would be as beautiful as this one — but because of the form received through art. The latter, however, did not exist in the matter of the statue. It was in the thought of the artist that it existed before passing into the marble; and it existed therein, not because it had eyes and hands, but because it participated in art. It was therefore in art that this superior beauty existed. It could not have become incorporated in stone. Dwelling within itself, it begat an inferior form, which, passing into matter, could neither preserve all its purity, nor completely respond to the will of the artist, possessing no perfection other than that allowed by matter. As the nature of art is to produce beauty, if art succeed in producing beauty which conforms to its constitutive essence, then, by the possession of the beauty essential to it, art possesses a beauty still greater and truer than that which passes into exterior objects. As all form extends by passing into matter, (this objectified form) is weaker than that which remains one. All that extends abandons its own (nature), as do force, heat, and in general any property; likewise with beauty. Every creating principle is always superior to the created thing. It is not the lack of musical ability, but the music itself that creates the musician; while it is the intelligible music that creates the sense music. It has been attempted to degrade the arts by saying that to create they imitate nature. This may be answered by pointing out that the natures of beings are themselves the images of other beings (or essences); besides, the arts do not limit themselves to the imitation of objects which offer themselves to our view, but that they go as far back as the (ideal) reasons from which are derived the nature of objects. Further the arts independently create many things, and to the perfection of the object they add what is lacking, because they possess beauty in themselves. Phidias seems to have represented Jupiter without copying any sense-objects, conceiving him such as he would appear to us if he ever revealed himself to our eyes. [Ennead V,8 (31) 1]

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]

The statement that in what is immaterial, knowledge and the known thing coincide, must not be understood to mean that it is the knowledge of the thing which is the thing itself, nor that the reason which contemplates an object is this object itself, but rather, conversely, that it is the thing which, existing without matter, is purely intelligible and intellection. I do not here mean the intellection which is neither a definition nor an intuition of a thing; but I say that the thing itself, such as it exists in the intelligible world, is exclusively intelligence and knowledge. It is not (the kind of) knowledge that applies itself to the intelligible, it is the (actual) thing itself which keeps that knowledge (thereof possessed by reason) from remaining different from it, just as the knowledge of a material object remains different from that object; but it is a veritable (kind of) knowledge, that is, a knowledge which is not merely a simple image of the known thing, but really is the thing itself. It is not therefore the thought of the movement which produced movement in itself, but the movement in itself which produced the thought, so that the thought thinks itself as movement, and as thought. On the one hand, intelligible movement is thought by the intelligible Essence; on the other hand, it is movement in itself because it is first — for there is no movement anterior thereto; it is real movement, because it is not the accident of a subject, but because it is the actualization of the essence which moves, and possesses actualized (existence); it is therefore “being,” though it be conceived as different from essence. Justice, for instance, is not the simple thought of justice; it is a certain disposition of Intelligence, or rather it is an actualization of a determinate nature. The face of Justice is more beautiful than the evening or morning stars, and than all visible beauty. Justice may be imagined as an intellectual statue which has issued from itself and which has manifested itself such as it is in itself; or rather, which subsists essentially in itself. [Ennead VI,6 (34) 6]

(By this process) we also know the nature of Intelligence, which we see still better than the other things, though we cannot grasp its magnitude. We admit, in fact, that it possesses the whatness (essence), of everything, but not its “whyness” (its cause); or, if we grant (that this “cause” be in Intelligence), we do not think that it is separated (from its “whatness” (or, essence). Let us suppose that, for instance, the man, or, if possible, the eye, should offer itself to our contemplation (in the intelligible world) as a statue, or as a part of it, would do. The man that we see on high is both essence and cause. As well as the eye, he must be intellectual, and contain his cause. Otherwise, he could not exist in the intelligible world. Here below, just as each part is separated from the others, so is the cause separated (from the essence). On high, on the contrary, all things exist in unity, and each thing is identical with its cause. This identity may often be noticed even here below, as for instance, in eclipses. It would therefore seem probable that in the intelligible world everything would, besides the rest, possess its cause, and that its cause constitutes its essence. This must be admitted; and that is the reason why those who apply themselves to grasp the characteristic of each being succeed (in also grasping its cause). Indeed that which each (being) is, depends on the “cause of such a form.” To repeat: not only is a (being’s) form its cause, (which is incontestable), but yet, if one analyses each form considered in itself, its cause will be found. The only things which do not contain their causes are those whose life is without reality, and whose existence is shadowy. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 2]

To this (definition) it may be objected that if warming oneself consist in receiving such heat as partially contributes to the subject’s being, and partly does not do so, then we have here one and the same thing which both is, and is not an experience. To this it may be answered that there are two ways of warming oneself. Besides, even when the heating contributes to the being, it does so only in the degree that some other object experiences. For instance, the metal will have to be heated, and undergo an experience, for the production of the being called statue, although this statue itself be heated only incidentally. If then the metal become more beautiful by the effect of that which heats it, or by the effect of the heating itself, it undergoes an experience; for there are two manners of (undergoing an experience, or) suffering: the one consists in becoming worse, and the other in becoming better — or at least, in not altering. [Ennead VI,1 (42) 21]

The cause that a being undergoes an experience is that it contains the kind of movement called alteration, whichever way it modify him; on the contrary, action means to have in oneself a definite movement, derived from oneself, or a movement which has its goal in some other being, and its origin in self. In both cases there is movement; but with this distinction: that action, so far as it is action, is impassible; while an experience consists in the experiencer’s reception of a disposition new to him, without the reception of anything that contributes towards his being; so as to avoid (the case of the statue, above, where) the experience happened to one being (the metal), while it was another being that was produced (the statue). Consequently, the same thing will in one state be an action, and in other, an experience. Thus the same movement will in one being be an action, because it is considered from a certain viewpoint; and from another it will be an experience, because it is disposed some other way. Action and experience seem therefore to be relative, if one consider the action in its relation with experience, since the same thing is action in the one, and experience in the other. Also, because neither of these two can be considered in itself, but only in him who acts, or experiences, when the one moves, and the other is moved. Each of these terms therefore implies two categories; one gives the movement, the other receives it; consequently we have transmission and reception, which result in relation. If he who received the movement possesses it as he possesses color, why could it not also be said that he possessed movement? Absolute movements, such as walking (and thinking) possess steps and thought. [Ennead VI,1 (42) 22]

If the verb “to have” be used in several senses, why might we not apply to this category all the various uses of the word; for instance, quantity, because quantity has size; quality, because it has color; the father, because he has a son; the son, because he has a father; and, in general, all kinds of possession? Will it be said that the other things that can be possessed have already been classified under the categories considered above, and that the category of “having” comprises only arms, foot-wear, and clothing? This might be answered by the question why “having” these objects should constitute a category, and why burning them, cutting them, burying them, or throwing them away, would not equally constitute one or more categories? If the answer be that all these things form one category because they refer to the body, this would then also make another category if we placed a garment over a litter; or likewise if someone were covered with clothing. If another answer be that the category of “having” consists in the “manner of containing,” and in possession, then all things which are possessed will have to be reduced to this category, which will thus contain all possession, whatever it be, since the nature of the possessed object could not here prevail to form some distinction. On the other hand, if the category of “having” must exclude having a quantity or quality, because the latter ideas already form their own categories; nor having parts, because of the category of being (which includes parts); why should this category contain having arms, when arms, as well as foot-wear, belong to the category of being? In any case, how could the statement, “He has arms” be considered something simple, which could be reduced to any one category? That statement expresses the same idea as “He is armed.” Can this expression (“he has arms”) refer only to a man, or even to his statue? The living man possesses very differently from possession by a statue, and the verb “to have” is used only as a verbal label (a homonym), just as the verb “to stand up” would mean something very different according as it referred to a man or a statue. Besides, is it reasonable to make a generic category of some merely incidental characteristic? [Ennead VI,1 (42) 23]

Let us, indeed, suppose, that something which formerly was a potentiality succeeds in assuming a form, as “potentiality that becomes a statue,” or that passes to actualization, as a man’s walk. In the case where the metal becomes a statue, this passage is a movement; in the case of the walking, the walk itself is a movement, like the dance, with one who is capable of it. In the movement of the first kind, where the metal passes into the condition of being a statue, there is the production of another form which is realized by the movement. The movement of the second kind, the dance, is a simple form of the potentiality, and, when it has ceased, leaves nothing that subsists after it. [Ennead VI,3 (44) 22]

The order of the universe conforms to divine Intelligence without implying that on that account its author needed to go through the process of reasoning. Nevertheless, this order is so perfect that he who best knows how to reason would be astonished to see that even with reasoning one could not discover a plan wiser than that discovered as realized in particular natures, and that this plan better conforms to the laws of Intelligence than any that could result from reasoning. It can never, therefore, be proper to find fault with the Reason that produces all things because of any (alleged imperfections) of any natural object, nor to claim, for the beings whose existence has begun, the perfection of the beings whose existence had no beginning, and which are eternal, both in the intelligible World, and in this sense-world. That would amount to wishing that every being should possess more good than it can carry, and to consider as insufficient the form it received. It would, for instance, amount to complaining, that man does not bear horns, and to fail to notice that, if Reason had to spread abroad everywhere, it was still necessary for something great to contain something less, that in everything there should be parts, and that these could not equal the whole without ceasing to be parts. In the intelligible World every thing is all; but here below each thing is not all things. The individual man does not have the same properties as the universal Man. For if the individual beings had something which was not individual, then they would be universal. We should not expect an individual being as such to possess the highest perfection; for then it would no longer be an individual being. Doubtless, the beauty of the part is not incompatible with that of the whole; for the more beautiful a part is, the more does it embellish the whole. Now the part becomes more beautiful on becoming similar to the whole, or imitating its essence, and in conforming to its order. Thus a ray (of the supreme Intelligence) descends here below upon man, and shines in him like a star in the divine sky. To imagine the universe, one should imagine a colossal statue that were perfectly beautiful, animated or formed by the art of Vulcan, whose ears, face and breast would be adorned with shimmering stars disposed with marvelous skill. [Ennead III,2 (47) 14]