ideas, about which the reader will find so much said in the notes on the
Parmenides, that but little remains to be added here. That little however
is as follows: The divine Pythagoras, and all those who have legitimately
received his doctrines, among whom Plato holds the most distinguished
rank, asserted that there are many orders of beings, viz. intelligible,
intellectual, dianoetic, physical, or in short, vital and corporeal
essences. For the progression of things, the subjection which naturally
subsists together with such progression, and the power of diversity in
coordinate genera give subsistence to all the multitude of corporeal and
incorporeal natures. They said, therefore, that there are three orders in
the whole extent of beings; viz. the intelligible, the dianoetic, and the
sensible; and that in each of these ideas subsist, characterized by the
respective essential properties of the natures by which they are
contained. And with respect to intelligible ideas, these they placed
among divine natures, together with the producing, paradigmatic, and
final causes of things in a consequent order. For if these three causes
sometimes concur, and are united among themselves, (which Aristotle says
is the case), without doubt this will not happen in the lowest works of
nature, but in the first and most excellent causes of all things, which
on account of their exuberant fecundity have a power generative of all
things, and from their converting and rendering similar to themselves the
natures which they have generated, are the paradigms, or exemplars of all
things. But as these divine causes act for their own sake, and on account
of their own goodness, do they not exhibit the final cause? Since
therefore intelligible forms are of this kind, and are the leaders of so
much good to wholes, they give completion to the divine orders, though
they largely subsist about the intelligible order contained in the
artificer of the universe. But dianoetic forms or ideas imitate the
intellectual, which have a prior subsistence, render the order of soul
similar to the intellectual order, and comprehend all things in a
secondary degree.
These forms beheld in divine natures possess a fabricative power, but
with us they are only gnostic, and no longer demiurgic, through the
defluxion of our wings, or degradation of our intellectual powers. For,
as Plato says in the Phaedrus, when the winged powers of the soul are
perfect and plumed for flight, she dwells on high, and in conjunction
with divine natures governs the world. In the Timaeus, he manifestly
asserts that the demiurgus implanted these dianoetic forms in souls, in
geometric, arithmetic, and harmonic proportions: but in his Republic (in
the section of a line in the 6th book) he calls them images of
intelligibles; and on this account does not for the most part disdain to
denominate them intellectual, as being the exemplars of sensible natures.
In the Phaedo he says that these are the causes to us of reminiscence;
because disciplines are nothing else than reminiscences of middle
dianoetic forms, from which the productive powers of nature being derived
and inspired, give birth to all the mundane phenomena.
Plato however did not consider things definable, or in modern language
abstract ideas, as the only universals, but prior to these he established
those principles productive of science which essentially reside in the
soul, as is evident from his Phaedrus and Phaedo. In the 10th book of the
Republic too, he venerates those separate forms which subsist in a divine
intellect. In the Phaedrus, he asserts that souls elevated to the
supercelestial place, behold Justice herself, temperance herself, and
science herself; and lastly in the Phaedo he evinces the immortality of
the soul from the hypothesis of separate forms.
Syrianus[11], in his commentary on the 13th book of Aristotle's
Metaphysics, shows in defense of Socrates, Plato, the Parmenideans,
and Pythagoreans, that ideas were not introduced by these divine men
according to the usual meaning of names, as was the opinion of Chrysippus,
Archedemus, and many of the junior Stoics; for ideas are distinguished by
many differences from things which are denominated from custom. Nor do
they subsist, says he, together with intellect, in the same manner as
those slender conceptions which are denominated universals abstracted
from sensibles, according to the hypothesis of Longinus:[12] for if that
which subsists is unsubstantial, it cannot be consubsistent with intellect.
-----------------
[11] See my translation of Aristotle's Metaphysics, p. 347. If the reader
conjoins what is said concerning ideas in the notes on that work, with
the introduction and notes to the Parmenides in this, he will be in
possession of nearly all that is to be found in the writings of the
ancients on this subject.
[12] It appears from this passage of Syrianus that Longinus was the
original inventor of the theory of abstract ideas; and that Mr. Locke was
merely the restorer of it.
-----------------
Nor are ideas according to these men notions, as Cleanthes afterwards
asserted them to be. Nor is idea definite reason, nor material form; for
these subsist in composition and division, and verge to matter. But ideas
are perfect, simple, immaterial, and impartible natures. And what wonder
is there, says Syrianus, if we should separate things which are so much
distant from each other? Since neither do we imitate in this particular
Plutarch, Atticus, and Democritus, who, because universal reasons
perpetually subsist in the essence of the soul, were of opinion that these
reasons are ideas: for though they separate them from the universal in
sensible natures, yet it is not proper to conjoin in one and the same the
reason of soul, and an intellect such as ours, with paradigmatic and
immaterial forms, and demiurgic intellections. But as the divine Plato
says, it is the province of our soul to collect things into one by a
reasoning process, and to possess a reminiscence of those transcendent
spectacles, which we once beheld when governing the universe in conjunction
with divinity. Boethus,[13] the peripatetic too, with whom it is proper to
join Cornutus; thought that ideas are the same with universals in sensible
natures. However, whether these universals are prior to particulars, they
are not prior in such a manner as to be denudated from the habitude which
they possess with respect to them, nor do they subsist as the causes of
particulars; both which are the prerogatives of ideas; or whether they are
posterior to particulars, as many are accustomed to call them, how can
things of posterior origin, which have no essential subsistence, but are
nothing more than slender conceptions, sustain the dignity of fabricative
ideas?
-------------------
[13] This was a Greek philosopher, who is often cited by Simplicius in
his Commentary on the Predicaments, and must not therefore be confounded
with Boetius, the roman senator and philosopher.
-------------------
In what manner then, says Syrianus, do ideas subsist according to the
contemplative lovers of truth? We reply, intelligibly and tetradically
([Greek: noeros kai tetradikos]), in animal itself ([Greek: en to
antozoo]), or the extremity of the intelligible order; but intellectually
and decadically ([Greek: noeros kai dekadikos]), in the intellect of the
artificer of the universe; for, according to the Pythagoric Hymn, "Divine
number proceeds from the retreats of the undecaying monad, till it arrives
at the divine tetrad which produced the mother of all things, the universal
recipient, venerable, circularly investing all things with bound, immovable
and unwearied, and which is denominated the sacred decad, both by the
immortal gods and earth-born men."
[Greek:
Proeisi gar o Theios arithmos, os phesin o Pythagoreios eis auton
umnos,
Monados ek keuthmonos akeralou esti'an iketai
Tetrada epi zatheen, he de teke metera panton,
Pandechea, presbeiran, oron peri pasi titheiran,
Atropon, akamatou, dekada kleiousi min agnen,
Athanatoi to theoi kai gegeneeis anthropoi.]
And such is the mode of their subsistence according to Orpheus,
Pythagoras and Plato. Or if it be requisite to speak in more familiar
language, an intellect sufficient to itself, and which is a most perfect
cause, presides over the wholes of the universe, and through these
governs all its parts; but at the same time that it fabricates all
mundane natures, and benefits them by its providential energies, it
preserves its own most divine and immaculate purity; and while it
illuminates all things, is not mingled with the natures which it
illuminates. This intellect, therefore, comprehending in the depths of
its essence an ideal world, replete with all various forms, excludes
privation of cause and casual subsistence, from its energy. But as it
imparts every good and all possible beauty to its fabrications, it
converts the universe to itself, and renders it similar to its own
omniform nature. Its energy, too, is such as its intellection; but it
understands all things, since it is most perfect. Hence there is not any
thing which ranks among true beings, that is not comprehended in the
essence of intellect; but it always establishes in itself ideas, which
are not different from itself and its essence, but give completion to it,
and introduce to the whole of things, a cause which is at the same time
productive, paradigmatic, and final. For it energizes as intellect, and
the ideas which it contains are paradigmatic, as being forms; and they
energize from themselves, and according to their own exuberant goodness.
And such are the Platonic dogmas concerning ideas, which sophistry and
ignorance may indeed oppose, but will never be able to confute.
From this intelligible world, replete with omniform ideas, this sensible
world, according to Plato, perpetually flows, depending on its artificer
intellect, in the same manner as shadow on its forming substance. For as
a deity of an intellectual characteristic is its fabricator, and both the
essence and energy of intellect are established in eternity the sensible
universe, which is the effect or production of such an energy, must be
consubsistent with its cause, or in other words, must be a perpetual
emanation from it. This will be evident from considering that every thing
which is generated, is either generated by art or by nature, or according
to power. It is necessary, therefore, that every thing operating
according to nature or art should be prior to the things produced; but
that things operating according to power should have their productions
coexistent with themselves; just as the sun produces light coexistent
with itself; fire, heat; and snow, coldness. If therefore the artificer
of the universe produced it by art, he would not cause it simply to be,
but to be in some particular manner; for all art produces form. Whence
therefore does the world derive its being? If he produced it from nature,
since that which makes by nature imparts something of itself to its
productions, and the maker of the world is incorporeal, it would be
necessary that the world, the offspring of such an energy, should be
incorporeal. It remains therefore, that the demiurgus produced the
universe by power alone; but every thing generated by power subsists
together with the cause containing this power: and hence production of
this kind cannot be destroyed unless the producing cause is deprived of
power. The divine intellect therefore that produced the sensible universe
caused it to be coexistent with himself.
This world thus depending on its divine artificer, who is himself an
intelligible world replete with the archetypal ideas of all things,
considered according to its corporeal nature, is perpetually flowing, and
perpetually advancing to being (en to gignesthai), and compared with its
paradigm, has no stability or reality of being. However, considered as
animated by a divine soul, and as receiving the illuminations of all the
supermundane gods, and being itself the receptacle of divinities from
whom bodies are suspended, it is said by Plato in the Timaeus to be a
blessed god. The great body of this world too, which subsists in a
perpetual dispersion of temporal extension, may be properly called a
whole with a total subsistence, on account of the perpetuity of its
duration, though this is nothing more than a flowing eternity. And hence
Plato calls it a whole of wholes; by the other wholes which are
comprehended in its meaning, the celestial spheres, the sphere of fire,
the whole of air considered as one great orb; the whole earth, and the
whole sea. These spheres, which are called by Platonic writers parts with
a total subsistence, are considered by Plato as aggoregately perpetual.
For if the body of this world is perpetual, this also must be the case
with its larger parts, on account of their exquisite alliance to it, and
in order that wholes with a partial subsistence, such as all individuals,
may rank in the last gradation of things.
As the world too, considered as one great comprehending whole, is called
by Plato a divine animal, so likewise every whole which it contains is a
world, possessing in the first place, a self-perfect unity; proceeding
from the ineffable, by which it becomes a god; in the second place, a
divine intellect; in the third place, a divine soul; and in the last
place, a deified body. Hence each of these wholes is the producing cause
of all the multitude which it contains, and on this account is said to be
a whole prior to parts; because, considered as possessing an eternal form
which holds all its parts together, and gives to the whole perpetuity of
subsistence, it is not indigent of such parts to the perfection of its
being. That these wholes which rank thus high in the universe are
animated, must follow by a geometrical necessity. For, as Theophrastus
well observes, wholes would possess less authority than parts, and things
eternal than such as are corruptible, if deprived of the possession
of soul.
And now having with venturous, yet unpresuming wing, ascended to the
ineffable principle of things, and standing with every eye closed in the
vestibules of the adytum, found that we could announce nothing concerning
him, but only indicate our doubts and disappointment, and having thence
descended to his occult and most venerable progeny, and passing through
the luminous world of ideas, holding fast by the golden chain of deity,
terminated our downward flight in the material universe, and its
undecaying wholes, let us stop awhile and contemplate the sublimity and
magnificence of the scene which this journey presents to our view. Here
then we see the vast empire of deity, an empire terminated upwards by a
principle so ineffable that all language is subverted about it, and
downwards, by the vast body of the world. Immediately subsisting after
this immense unknown we in the next place behold a mighty all-
comprehending one, which as being next to that which is in every
respect incomprehensible, possesses much of the ineffable and unknown.
From this principle of principles, in which all things casually subsist
absorbed in superessential light and involved in unfathomable depths, we
view a beauteous progeny of principles, all largely partaking of the
ineffable, all stamped with the occult characters of deity, all
possessing an over-flowing fullness of good. From these dazzling summits,
these ineffable blossoms, these divine propagations, we next see being,
life, intellect, soul, nature and body depending; monads suspended from
unities, deified natures proceeding from deities. Each of these monads
too, is the leader of a series which extends from itself to the last of
things, and which while it proceeds from, at the same time abides in, and
returns to its leader. And all these principles and all their progeny are
finally centred, and rooted by their summits in the first great all-
comprehending one. Thus all beings proceed from, and are comprehended
in the first being; all intellects emanate from one first intellect; all
souls from one first soul; all natures blossom from one first nature; and
all bodies proceed from the vital and luminous body of the world. And
lastly, all these great monads are comprehended in the first one, from
which both they and all their depending series are unfolded into light.
Hence this first one is truly the unity of unities, the monad of monads,
the principle of principles, the God of gods, one and all things, and yet
one prior to all.
Such, according to Plato, are the flights of the true philosopher, such
the August and magnificent scene which presents itself to his view. By
ascending these luminous heights, the spontaneous tendencies of the soul
to deity alone find the adequate object of their desire; investigation
here alone finally reposes, doubt expires in certainty, and knowledge
loses itself in the ineffable.
And here perhaps some grave objector, whose little soul is indeed acute,
but sees nothing with a vision healthy and sound, will say that all this
is very magnificent, but that it is soaring too high for man; that it is
merely the effect of spiritual pride; that no truths, either in morality
or theology, are of any importance which are not adapted to the level of
the meanest capacity; and that all that it is necessary for man to know
concerning either God or himself is so plain, that he that runs may read.
In answer to such like cant, for it is nothing more,--a cant produced by
the most profound ignorance, and frequently attended with the most
deplorable envy, I ask, is then the Delphic precept, KNOW THYSELF, a
trivial mandate? Can this be accomplished by every man? Or can any one
properly know himself without knowing the rank he holds in the scale of
being? And can this be effected without knowing what are the natures
which he surpasses, and what those are by which he is surpassed? And can
he know this without knowing as much of those natures as it is possible
for him to know? And will the objector be hardy enough to say that every
man is equal to this arduous task? That he who rushes from the forge, or
the mines, with a soul distorted, crushed and bruised by base mechanical
arts, and madly presumes to teach theology to a deluded audience, is
master of this sublime, this most important science? For my own part I
know of no truths which are thus obvious, thus accessible to every man,
but axioms, those self-evident principles of science which are
conspicuous by their own light, which are the spontaneous unperverted
conceptions of the soul, and to which he who does not assent deserves, as
Aristotle justly remarks, either pity or correction. In short, if this is
to be the criterion of all moral and theological knowledge, that it must
be immediately obvious to every man, that it is to be apprehended by the
most careless inspection, what occasion is there for seminaries of
learning? Education is ridiculous, the toil of investigation is idle. Let
us at once confine Wisdom in the dungeons of Folly, recall Ignorance from
her barbarous wilds, and close the gates of Science with
everlasting bars.
Having thus taken a general survey of the great world, and descended from
the intelligible to the sensible universe, let us still, adhering to that
golden chain which is bound round the summit of Olympus, and from which
all things are suspended, descend to the microcosm man. For man
comprehends in himself partially everything which the world contains
divinely and totally. Hence, according to Pluto, he is endued with an
intellect subsisting in energy, and a rational soul proceeding from the
same father and vivific goddess as were the causes of the intellect and
soul of the universe. He has likewise an ethereal vehicle analogous to
the heavens, and a terrestrial body, composed from the four elements, and
with which also it is coordinate.
With respect to his rational part, for in this the essence of man
consists, we have already shown that it is of a self-motive nature, and
that it subsists between intellect, which is immovable both in essence
and energy, and nature, which both moves and is moved. In consequence of
this middle subsistence, the mundane soul, from which all partial souls
are derived, is said by Plato in the Timaeus, to be a medium between that
which is indivisible and that which is divisible about bodies, i.e. the
mundane soul is a medium between the mundane intellect, and the whole of
that corporeal life which the world participates. In like manner, the
human soul is a medium between a daemoniacal intellect proximately,
established above our essence, which it also elevates and perfects, and
that corporeal life which is distributed about our body, and which is
the cause of its generation, nutrition and increase. This daemoniacal
intellect is called by Plato, in the Phaedrus, theoretic and, the
governor of the soul. The highest part therefore of the human soul is the
summit of the dianoetic power ([Greek: to akrotaton tes dianoias]), or
that power which reasons scientifically; and this summit is our intellect.
As, however, our very essence is characterized by reason, this our summit
is rational, and though it subsists in energy, yet it has a remitted union
with things themselves. Though too it energizes from itself, and contains
intelligibles in its essence, yet from its alliance to the discursive
nature of soul, and its inclination to that which is divisible, it falls
short of the perfection of an intellectual essence and energy profoundly
indivisible and united, and the intelligibles which it contains degenerate
from the transcendently fulged and self-luminous nature of first
intelligibles. Hence, in obtaining a perfectly indivisible knowledge, it
requires to be perfected by an intellect whose energy is ever vigilant
and unremitted; and it's intelligibles, that they may become perfect,
are indigent of the light which proceeds from separate intelligibles.
Aristotle, therefore, very properly compares the intelligibles of our
intellect to colors, because these require the splendour of the sun, and
denominates an intellect of this kind, intellect in capacity, both on
account of its subordination to an essential intellect, and because it is
from a separate intellect that it receives the full perfection of its
nature. The middle part of the rational soul is called by Plato, dianoia,
and is that power which, as we have already said, reasons scientifically,
deriving the principles of its reasoning, which are axioms from intellect.
And the extremity of the rational soul is opinion, which in his Sophista
he defines to be that power which knows the conclusion of dianoia. This
power also knows the universal in sensible particulars, as that every man
is a biped, but it knows only the oti, or that a thing is, but is ignorant
of the dioti, or why it is: knowledge of the latter kind being the province
of the dianoetic power.
And such is Plato's division of the rational part of our nature, which he
very justly considers as the true man; the essence of every thing
consisting in its most excellent part.
After this follows the irrational nature, the summit of which is the
phantasy, or that power which perceives every thing accompanied with
figure and interval; and on this account it may be called a figured
intelligence ([Greek: morphotike noesis]). This power, as Jamblichus
beautifully observes, groups upon, as it were, and fashions all the
powers of the soul; exciting in opinion the illuminations from the
senses, and fixing in that life which is extended with body, the
impressions which descend from intellect. Hence, slays Proclus, it folds
itself about the indivisibility of true intellect, conforms itself to all
formless species, and becomes perfectly every thing, from which the
dianoetic power and our indivisible reason consists. Hence too, it is all
things passively which intellect is impassively, and on this account
Aristotle calls it passive intellect. Under this subsist anger and
desire, the former resembling a raging lion, and the latter a many-headed
beast; and the whole is bounded by sense, which is nothing more than a
passive perception of things, and on this account is justly said by
Plato, to be rather passion than knowledge; since the former of these is
characterized by alertness, and the latter by energy.
Further still, in order that the union of the soul with this gross
terrestrial body may be effected in a becoming manner, two vehicles,
according to Plato, are necessary as media, one of which is ethereal, and
the other aerial, and of these, the ethereal vehicle is simple and
immaterial, but the aerial, simple and material; and this dense earthly
body is composite and material.
The soul thus subsisting as a medium between natures impartible
and such as are divided about bodies, it produces and constitutes the
latter of these; but establishes in itself the prior causes from which it
proceeds. Hence it previously receives, after the manner of an exemplar,
the natures to which it is prior as their cause; but it possesses through
participation, and as the blossoms of first natures, the causes of its
subsistence. Hence it contains in its essence immaterial forms of things
material, incorporeal of such as are corporeal, and extended of such as
are distinguished by interval. But it contains intelligibles after the
manner of an image, and receives partibly their impartible forms, such
as are uniform variously, and such as are immovable, according to a
self-motive condition. Soul therefore is all things, and is elegantly
said by Olympiodorus to be an omniform statue ([Greek: pammorphon
agalma]): for it contains such things as are first through participation,
but such as are posterior to its nature, after the manner of an exemplar.
As, too, it is always moved; and this always is not eternal, but
temporal, for that which is properly eternal, and such is intellect, is
perfectly stable, and has no transitive energies, hence it is necessary
that its motions should be periodic. For motion is a certain mutation
from some things into others. And beings are terminated by multitudes and
magnitudes. These therefore being terminated, there can neither be an
infinite mutation, according to a right line, nor can that which is
always moved proceed according to a finished progression. Hence that
which is always moved will proceed from the same to the same; and will
thus form a periodic motion. Hence, too, the human, and this also is true
of every mundane soul, uses periods and restitutions of its proper life.
For, in consequence of being measured by time, it energizes transitively,
and possesses a proper motion. But every thing which is moved perpetually
and participates of time, revolves periodically and proceeds from the
same to the same. And hence the soul, from possessing motion, and
energizing according to time, will both possess periods of motion and
restitutions to its pristine state.
Again, as the human soul, according to Plato, ranks among the number of
those souls that sometimes follow the mundane divinities, in consequence
of subsisting immediately after daemons and heroes, the perpetual
attendants of the gods, hence it possesses a power of descending
infinitely into generation, or the sublunary region, and of ascending
from generation to real being. For since it does not reside with divinity
through an infinite time, neither will it be conversant with bodies
through the whole succeeding time. For that which has no temporal
beginning, both according to Plato and Aristotle, cannot have an end; and
that which has no end, is necessarily without a beginning. It remains,
therefore, that every soul must perform periods, both of ascensions from
generation, and of descensions into generation; and that this will never
fail, through an infinite time.
From all this it follows that the soul, while an inhabitant of earth, is
in a fallen condition, an apostate from deity, an exile from the orb of
light. Hence Plato, in the 7th book of his Republic, considering our life
with reference to erudition and the want of it, assimilates us to men in
a subterranean cavern, who have been there confined from their childhood,
and so fettered by chains as to be only able to look before them to the
entrance of the cave which expands to the light, but incapable through
the chain of turning themselves round. He supposes too, that they have
the light of a fire burning far above and behind them; and that between
the fire and the fettered men, there is a road above, along which a low
wall is built. On this wall are seen men bearing utensils of every kind,
and statues in wood and stone of men and other animals. And of these men
some are speaking and others silent. With respect to the fettered men in
this cave, they see nothing of themselves or another, or of what is
carrying along, but the shadows formed by the fire falling on the
opposite part of tho cave. He supposes too, that the opposite part of
this prison has an echo; and that in consequence of this the fettered
men, when they hear any one speak, will imagine that it is nothing else
than the passing shadow.
Here, in the first place, as we have observed in the notes on that book,
the road above between the fire and the fettered men, indicates that
there is a certain ascent in the cave itself from a more abject to a more
elevated life. By this ascent, therefore Plato signifies the contemplation
of dianoetic objects in the mathematical disciplines. For as the shadows
in the cave correspond to the shadows of visible objects, and visible
objects are the immediate images of dianoetic forms, or those ideas which
the soul essentially participates, it is evident that the objects from
which these shadows are formed must correspond to such as are dianoetic.
It is requisite, therefore, that the dianoetic power exercising itself in
these, should draw forth the principles of these from their latent
retreats, and should contemplate them not in images, but as subsisting in
herself in impartible involution.
In the next place he says, "that the man who is to be led from the cave
will more easily see what the heavens contain, and the heavens
themselves, by looking in the night to the light of the stars, and the
moon, than by day looking on the sun, and the light of the sun." By this
he signifies the contemplation of intelligibles: for the stars and their
light are imitations of intelligibles, so far as all of them partake of
the form of the sun, in the same manner as intelligibles are
characterized by the nature of the good.
After the contemplation of these, and after the eye is accustomed through
these to the light, as it is requisite in the visible region to see the
sun himself in the last place, in like manner, according to Plato, the
idea of the good must be seen the last in the intelligible region. He,
likewise divinely adds, that it is scarcely to be seen; for we can only
be conjoined with it through the intelligible, in the vestibule of which
it is beheld by the ascending soul.
In short, the cold, according to Plato, can only be restored while on
earth to the divine likeness, which she abandoned by her descent, and be
able after death to reascend to the intelligible world, by the exercise
of the cathartic and theoretic virtues; the former purifying her from the
defilements of a mortal nature, and the latter elevating her to the
vision of true being: for thus, as Plato says in the Timaeus, "the soul
becoming sane and entire, will arrive at the form of her pristine habit."
The cathartic, however, must necessarily precede the theoretic virtues;
since it is impossible to survey truth while subject to the perturbation
and tumult of the passions. For the rational soul subsisting as a medium
between intellect and the irrational nature, can then only without
revulsion associate with the intellect prior to herself, when she becomes
pure from copassivity with inferior natures. By the cathartic virtues,
therefore, we become sane, in consequence of being liberated from the
passions as diseases; but we become entire by the reassumption of
intellect and science as of our proper parts; and this is effected by
contemplative truth. Plato also clearly teaches us that our apostacy from
better natures is only to be healed by a flight from hence, when he
defines in his Theaetetus philosophy to be a flight from terrestrial
evils: for he evinces by this that passions are connascent with mortals
alone. He likewise says in the same dialogue, "that neither can evil
be abolished, nor yet do they subsist with the gods, but that they
necessarily revolve about this terrene abode, and a mortal nature." For
those who are obnoxious to generation and corruption can also be affected
in a manner contrary to nature, which is the beginning of evils. But in
the same dialogue he subjoins the mode by which our flight from evil
is to be accomplished. "It is necessary," says he "to fly from hence
thither: but the flight is a similitude to divinity, as far as is
possible to man; and this similitude consists in becoming just and holy
in conjunction with intellectual prudence." For it is necessary that he
who wishes to run from evils, should in the first place turn away from a
mortal nature; since it is not possible for those who are mingled with it
to avoid being filled with its attendant evils. As therefore, through our
flight from divinity, and the defluction of those wings which elevate us
on high, we fell into this mortal abode, and thus became connected with
evils, so by abandoning passivity with a mortal nature, and by the
germination of the virtues, as of certain wings, we return to the abode
of pure and true good, and to the possession of divine felicity. For the
essence of many subsisting as a medium between daemoniacal natures, who
always have an intellectual knowledge of divinity, and those beings who
are never adapted by nature to understand him, it ascends to the former
and descends to the latter, through the possession and desertion of
intellect. For it becomes familiar both with the divine and brutal
likeness, through the amphibious condition of its nature.
When the soul therefore has recovered her pristine perfection in as great
a degree as is possible, while she is an inhabitant of earth by the
exercise of the cathartic and theoretic virtues, she returns after death,
as he says in the Timaeus, to her kindred star, from which she fell, and
enjoys a blessed life. Then, too, as he says in the Phaedrus, being
winged, she governs the world in conjunction with the gods. And this
indeed is the most beautiful end of her labors. This is what he calls in
the Phaedo, a great contest and a mighty hope. This is the most perfect
fruit of philosophy to familiarize and lead her back to things truly
beautiful, to liberate her from this terrene abode as from a certain
subterranean cavern of material life, elevate her to ethereal splendors,
and place her in the islands of the blessed.
From this account of the human soul, that most important Platonic dogma
necessarily follows, that our soul essentially contains all knowledge,
and that whatever knowledge she acquires in the present life, is in
reality nothing more than a recovery of what a he once possessed. This
recovery is very properly called by Plato reminiscence, not as being
attended with actual recollection in the present life, but as being an
actual repossession of what the soul had lost through her oblivious union
with the body. Alluding to this essential knowledge of the soul, which
discipline evocates from its dormant retreats, Plato says in the
Sophista, "that we know all things as in a dream, and are again ignorant
of them, according to vigilant perception." Hence too, as Proclus well
observes, it is evident that the soul does not collect her knowledge from
sensibles, nor from things partial and divisible discover the whole and
the one. For it is not proper to think that things which have in no
respect a real subsistence, should be the leading causes of knowledge to
the soul; and that things which oppose each other and are ambiguous,
should precede science which has a sameness of subsistence; nor that
things which are variously mutable, should be generative of reasons which
are established in unity; nor that things indefinite should be the causes
of definite intelligence. It is not fit, therefore, that the truth of
things eternal should be received from the many, nor the discrimination
of universals from sensibles, nor a judgment respecting what is good from
irrational natures; but it is requisite that the soul entering within
herself, should investigate herself the true and the good, and the
eternal reasons of things.
We have said that discipline awakens the dormant knowledge of
the soul; and Plato considered this as particularly effected by the
mathematical discipline. Hence, he asserts of theoretic arithmetic that
it imparts no small aid to our ascent to real being, and that it
liberates us from the wandering and ignorance about a sensible nature.
Geometry too is considered by him as most instrumental to the knowledge
of the good, when it is not pursued for the sake of practical purposes,
but as the means of ascent to an intelligible essence. Astronomy also is
useful for the purpose of investigating the fabricator of all things,
and contemplating as in most splendid images the ideal world, and its
ineffable cause. And lastly music, when properly studied, is subservient
to our ascent, viz. when from sensible we betake ourselves to the
contemplation of ideal and divine harmony. Unless, however, we thus
employ the mathematical discipline, the study of them is justly
considered by Plato as imperfect and useless, and of no worth. For as
the true end of man according to his philosophy is an assimilation to
divinity, in the greatest perfection of which human nature is capable,
whatever contributes to this is to be ardently pursued; but whatever has
a different tendency, however necessary it may be to the wants and
conveniences of the mere animal life, is comparatively little and vile.
Hence it necessary to pass rapidly from things visible and audible, to
those which are alone seen by the eye of intellect. For the mathematical
sciences, when properly studied, move the inherent knowledge of the soul;
awaken its intelligence; purify its dianoetic power; call forth its
essential forms from their dormant retreats; remove that oblivion and
ignorance which are congenial with our birth; and dissolve the bonds
arising from our union with an irrational nature. It is therefore
beautifully said by Plato in the 7th book of his Republic, "that the soul
through these disciplines has an organ purified and enlightened, which is
blinded and buried by studies of a different kind, an organ better worth
saving than ten thousand eyes, since truth becomes visible through this
alone."
Dialectic, however, or the vertex of the mathematical sciences,
as it is called by Plato in his Republic, is that master discipline which
particularly leads us up to an intelligible essence. Of this first of
sciences, which is essentially different from vulgar logic, and is the
same with what Aristotle calls the first philosophy and wisdom, I have
largely spoken in the introduction and notes to the Parmenides. Suffice
it therefore to observe in this place, that dialectic differs from
mathematical science in this, that the latter flows from, and the former
is void of hypothesis. That dialectic has a power of knowing universals;
that it ascends to good and the supreme cause of all; and, that it
considers good as the end of its elevation; but that the mathematical
science, which previously fabricates for itself definite principles, from
which it evinces things consequent to such principles, does not tend to
the principle, but to the conclusion. Hence Plato does not expel
mathematical knowledge from the number of the sciences, but asserts it to
be the next in rank to that one science which is the summit of all; nor
does he accuse it as ignorant of its own principles, but considers it as
receiving these from the master science dialectic, and that possessing
them without any demonstration, it demonstrates from these its consequent
propositions.
Hence Socrates, in the Republic, speaking of the power of dialectic,
says that it surrounds all disciplines like a defensive enclosure, and
elevates those that use it to the good itself, and the first unities;
that it purifies the eye of the soul; establishes itself in true beings,
and, the one principle of all things, and ends at last in that which is
no longer hypothetical. The power of dialectic, therefore, being thus
great, and the ends of this path so mighty, it must by no means be
confounded with arguments which are alone conversant with opinion: for
the former is the guardian of sciences, and the passage to it is through
these, but the latter is perfectly destitute of disciplinative science.
To which we may add, that the method of reasoning which is founded in
opinion, regards only that which is apparent; but the dialectic method
endeavors to arrive at the one itself, always employing for this purpose
steps of ascent, and at last beautifully ends in the nature of the good.
Very different therefore is it from the merely logical method, which
presides over the demonstrative phantasy, is of a secondary nature, and
is alone pleased with contentious discussions. For the dialectic of Plato
for the most part employs divisions and analyses as primary sciences, and
as imitating the progression of beings from the one, and their conversion
to it again. It likewise sometimes uses definitions and demonstrations,
and prior to these the definitive method, and the divisive prior to this.
On the contrary, the merely logical method, which is solely conversant
with opinion, is deprived of the incontrovertible reasonings of
demonstration.
The following is a specimen of the analytical method of Plato's dialectic.
Of analysis there are three species. For one is an ascent from sensibles
to the first intelligibles; a second is an ascent through things
demonstrated and subdemonstrated, to undemonstrated and immediate
propositions; and a third proceeds from hypothesis to unhypothetical
principles. Of the first of these species, Plato has given a most
admirable specimen in the speech of Diotima in the Banquet. For there he
ascends from the beauty about bodies to the beauty in souls; from this to
the beauty in right disciplines; from this again to the beauty in laws;
from the beauty in laws to the ample sea of beauty (Greek: to polu pelagos
tou kalou); and thus proceeding he at length arrives at the beautiful
itself.
The second species of analysis is as follows: It is necessary to make the
thing investigated the subject of hypothesis; to survey such things as
are prior to it; and to demonstrate these from things posterior,
ascending to such as are prior, till we arrive at the first thing and to
which we give our assent. But beginning from this, we descend
synthetically to the thing investigated. Of this species, the following
is an example from the Phaedrus of Plato. It is inquired if the soul is
immortal; and this being hypothetically admitted, it is inquired in the
next place if it is always moved. This being demonstrated, the next
inquiry is if that which is always moved, is self-moved; and this again
being demonstrated, it is considered whether that which is self-moved is
the principle of motion, and afterwards if the principle is unbegotten.
This then being admitted as a thing acknowledged, and likewise that what
is begotten is incorruptible, the demonstration of the thing proposed is
thus collected. If there is a principle, it is unbegotten and
incorruptible. That which is self-moved is the principle of motion. Soul
is self-moved. Soul therefore (i.e. the rational soul) is incorruptible,
unbegotten, and immortal.
Of the third species of analysis, which proceeds from the hypothetical to
that which is unhypothetical, Plato has given a most beautiful specimen
in the first hypothesis of his Parmenides. For here, taking for his
hypothesis that the one is, he proceeds through an orderly series of
negations, which are not privative of their subjects, but generative of
things which are as it were, their opposites, till he at length takes
away the hypothesis that the one is. For he denies of it all discourse
and every appellation. And thus evidently denies of it not only that it
is, but even negation. For all things are posterior to the one; viz.
things known, knowledge, and the instruments of knowledge. And thus,
beginning from the hypothetical, he ends in that which is unhypothetical,
and truly ineffable.
Having taken a general survey, both of the great world and the microcosm
man, I shall close this account of the principal dogmas of Plato, with
the outlines of his doctrine concerning Providence and Fate, as it is a
subject of the greatest importance, and the difficulties in which it is
involved are happily removed by that prince of philosophers.
In the first place, therefore, Providence, according to common
conceptions, is the cause of good to the subjects of its care; and Fate
is the cause of a certain connection to generated natures. This being
admitted, let us consider what the things are which are connected. Of
beings, therefore, some have their essence in eternity, and others in
time. But by beings whose essence is in eternity, I mean those whose
energy as well as their essence is eternal; and by beings essentially
temporal, those whose essence is always in generation, or becoming to be,
though this should take place in an infinite time. The media between
these two extremes are natures which, in a certain respect, have an
essence permanent and better than generation, or a flowing subsistence,
but whose energy is measured by time. For it is necessary that every
procession from things first to last should be effected through media.
The medium, therefore, between these two extremes, must either be that
which has an eternal essence, but any energy indigent of time, or, on the
contrary, that which has a temporal essence, but an eternal energy. It is
impossible, however, for the latter of these to have any subsistence; for
if this were admitted, energy would be prior to essence. The medium,
therefore, must be that whose essence is eternal, but energy temporal.
And the three orders which compose this first middle and last are, the
intellectual, psychical (or that pertaining to soul), and corporeal. For
from what has been already said by us concerning the gradation of beings,
it is evident that the intellectual order is established in eternity,
both in essence and energy; that the corporeal order is always in
generation, or advancing to being, and this either in an infinite time,
or in a part of time; and that the psychical is indeed eternal in
essence, but temporal in energy. Where then shall we rank things which
being distributed either in places or times, have a certain coordination
and sympathy with each other through connection? It is evident that they
must be ranked among altermotive and corporeal natures. For of things
which subsist beyond the order of bodies, some are better both than place
and time; and others, though they energize according to time, appear to
be entirely pure from any connection with place.
Hence things which are governed and connected by Fate are entirely
altermotive and corporeal. If this then is demonstrated, it is manifest
that admitting Fate to be a cause of connection, we must assert that it
presides over altermotive and corporeal natures. If, therefore, we look
to that which is the proximate cause of bodies, and thorough which also
altermotive beings are moved, breathe, and are held together, we shall
find that this is nature, the energies of which are to generate, nourish,
and increase. If, therefore, this power not only subsists in us, and all
other animals and plants, but prior to partial bodies there is, by a much
greater necessity, one nature of the world which comprehends and is
motive of all bodies; it follows that nature must be the cause of things
connected, and that in this we must investigate Fate. Hence, Fate is
nature, or that incorporeal power which is the one life of the world,
presiding over bodies, moving all things according to time, and
connecting the motions of things that, by places and times, are distant
from each other. It is likewise the cause of the mutual sympathy of
mortal natures, and of their conjunction with such as are eternal. For
the nature which is in us, binds and connects all the parts of our body,
of which also it is a certain Fate. And as in our body some parts have a
principal subsistence, and others are less principal, and the latter are
consequent to the former, so in the universe, the generations of the less
principal parts are consequent to the motions of the more principal, viz.
the sublunary generations to the periods of the celestial bodies; and the
circle of the former is the image of the latter.
Hence it is not difficult to see that Providence is deity itself, the
fountain of all good. For whence can good be imparted, to all things, but
from divinity? So that no other cause of good but deity is, as Plato
says, to be assigned. And, in the next place, as this cause is superior
to all intelligible and sensible natures, it is consequently superior to
Fate. Whatever too is subject to Fate, is also under the dominion of
Providence; having its connection indeed from Fate, but deriving the good
which it possesses from Providence. But again, not all things that are
under the dominion of Providence are indigent of Fate; for intelligibles
are exempt from its sway. Fate therefore is profoundly conversant with
corporeal natures; since connection introduces time and corporeal motion.
Hence Plato, looking to this, says in the Timaeus, that the world is
mingled from intellect and necessity, the former ruling over the latter.
For by necessity here he means the motive cause of bodies, which in other
places he calls Fate. And this with great propriety; since every body is
compelled to do whatever it does, and to suffer whatever it suffers; to
heat or to be heated, to impart or to receive cold. But the elective
power is unknown to a corporeal nature; so that the necessary and the
nonelective may be said to be the peculiarities of bodies.
As there are two genera of things, therefore, the intelligible and the
sensible, so likewise there are two kingdoms of these; that of
Providence, upwards, which reigns over intelligibles and sensibles, and
that of Fate downwards, which reigns over sensibles only. Providence
likewise differs from Fate in the same manner as deity from that which is
divine indeed, but participation, and not primarily. For in other things
we see that which has a primary subsistence, and that which subsists
according to participation. Thus the light which subsists in the orb of
the sun is primary light, and that which is in the air, according to
participation; the latter being derived from the former. And life is
primarily in the soul, but secondarily in the body. Thus also, according
to Plato, Providence is deity, but Fate is something divine, and not a
god: for it depends upon Providence, of which it is as it were the image.
As Providence too is to intelligibles, so is Fate to sensibles. And,
alternately, as Providence is to Fate, so are intelligibles to sensibles.
But intelligibles are the first of beings, and from these others derive
their subsistence. And hence the order of Fate depends on the dominion of
Providence.
In the second place, let us look to the rational nature itself, when
correcting the inaccuracy of sensible information, as when it accuses the
sight of deception, in seeing the orb of the sun as not larger than a
foot in diameter; when it represses the ebullitions of anger, and
exclaims with Ulysses,
"Endure my heart;"
or when it restrains the wanton tendencies of desire to corporeal delight.
For in all such operations it manifestly subdues the irrational motions,
both gnostic and appetitive, and absolves itself from them, as from
things foreign to its nature. But it is necessary to investigate the
essence of every thing, not from its perversion, but from its energies
according to nature. If therefore reason, when it energizes in us as
reason, restrains the shadowy impressions of the delights of licentious
desire, punishes the precipitate motion of fury, and reproves the senses
as full of deception, asserting that
"We nothing accurate, or see, or hear:"
and if it says this, looking to its internal reasons, none of which it
knows through the body, or through corporeal cognitions, it is evident
that, according to this energy, it removes itself far from the senses,
contrary to the decision of which it becomes separated from those sorrows
and delights.
After this, let us direct our attention to another and a better motion of
our rational soul, when, during the tranquillity of the inferior parts,
by a self-convertive energy, it sees its own essence, the powers which it
contains, the harmonic reasons from which it consists, and the many lives
of which it is the middle boundary, and thus finds itself to be a
rational world, the image of the prior natures, from which it proceeds,
but the paradigm of such as are posterior to itself. To this energy of
the soul, theoretic arithmetic and geometry greatly contribute, for these
remove it from the senses, purify the intellect from the irrational forms
of life with which it is surrounded, and lead it to the incorporeal
perception of ideas. For if these sciences receive the soul replete with
images, and knowing nothing subtile and unattended with material
garrulity; and if they elucidate reasons possessing an irrefragable
necessity of demonstration, and forms full of all certainty and
immateriality, and which by no means call to their aid the inaccuracy of
sensibles, do they not evidently purify our intellectual life from things
which fill us with a privation of intellect, and which impede our
perception of true being?
After both these operations of the rational soul, let us now survey her
highest intelligence, through which she sees her sister souls in the
universe, who are allotted a residence in the heavens, and in the whole
of a visible nature, according to the will of the fabricator of the
world. But above all souls, she sees intellectual essences and orders.
For a deiform intellect resides above every soul, and which also imparts
to the soul an intellectual habit. Prior to these, however, she sees
those divine monads, from which all intellectual multitudes receive their
unions. For above all things united, there must necessarily be unific
causes; above things vivified, vivifying causes; above intellectual
natures, those that impart intellect; and above all participants,
imparticipable natures. From all these elevating modes of intelligence,
it must be obvious to such as are not perfectly blind, how the soul,
leaving sense and body behind, surveys through the projecting energies of
intellect those beings that are entirely exempt from all connection with
a corporeal nature.
The rational and intellectual soul therefore, in whatever manner it may
be moved according to nature, is beyond body and sense. And hence it must
necessarily have an essence separate from both. But from this again, it
becomes manifest, that when it energizes according to its nature, it is
superior to Fate, and beyond the reach of its attractive power; but that,
when falling into sense and things irrational and corporalized, it
follows downward natures and lives, with them as with inebriated
neighbors, then together with them it becomes subject to the dominion of
Fate. For again, it is necessary that there should be an order of beings
of such a kind, as to subsist according to essence above Fate, but to be
sometimes ranked under it according to habitude. For if there are beings,
and such are all intellectual natures which are eternally established
above the laws of Fate, and also which, according to the whole of their
life, are distributed under the periods of Fate, it is necessary that the
medium between these should be that nature which is sometimes above, and
sometimes under the dominion of Fate. For the procession of incorporeal
natures is much more without a vacuum than that of bodies.
The free will therefore of man, according to Plato, is a rational
elective, power, desiderative of true and apparent good, and leading the
soul to both, through which it ascends and descends, errs and acts with
rectitude. And hence the elective will be the same with that which
characterizes our essence. According to this power, we differ from divine
and mortal natures: for each of these is void of that two-fold inclination;
the one on account of its excellence being alone established in true
good; but the other in apparent good, on account of its defect. Intellect
too characterizes the one, but sense the other; and the former, as
Plotinus says, is our king, but the latter our messenger. We therefore
are established in the elective power as a medium; and having the ability
of tending both to true and apparent good, when we tend to the former we
follow the guidance of intellect, when to the latter, that of sense. The
power therefore which is in us is not capable of all things. For the
power which is omnipotent is characterized by unity; and on this account
is all-powerful, because it is one, and possesses the form of good. But
the elective power is two-fold, and on this account is not able to effect
all things; because, by it's inclinations to true and apparent good, it
falls short of that nature which is prior to all things. It would however
be all-powerful, if it had not an elective impulse, and was will alone.
For a life subsisting according to will alone subsists according to good,
because the will naturally tends to good, and such a life makes that
which is characteristic in us most powerful and deiform. And hence
through this the soul, according to Plato, becomes divine, and in another
life, in conjunction with deity, governs the world. And thus much of the
outlines of the leading dogmas of the philosophy of Plato.
In the beginning of this Introduction, I observed that, in drawing these
outlines I should conduct the reader through novel and solitary paths,
solitary indeed they must be, since they have been unfrequented from the
reign of the emperor Justinian to the present time; and novel they will
doubtless appear to readers of every description, and particularly to
those who have been nursed as it were in the bosom of matter, the pupils
of experiment, the darlings of sense, and the legitimate descendants of
the earth-born race that warred on the Olympian gods. To such as these,
who have gazed on the dark and deformed face of their nurse, till they
are incapable of beholding the light of truth, and who are become so
drowsy from drinking immoderately of the cup of oblivion, that their
whole life is nothing more than a transmigration from sleep to sleep, and
from dream to dream, like men passing from one bed to another,--to such
as these, the road through which we have been traveling will appear to be
a delusive passage, and the objects which we have surveyed to be nothing
more than fantastic visions, seen only by the eye of imagination, and
when seen, idle and vain as the dreams of a shadow.
The following arguments, however, may perhaps awaken some few of these
who are less lethargic than the rest, from the sleep of sense, and enable
them to elevate their mental eye from the dark mire in which they are
plunged, and gain a glimpse of this most weighty truth, that there is
another world, of which this is nothing more than a most obscure
resemblance, and another life, of which this is but the flying mockery.
My present discourse therefore is addressed to those who consider
experiment as the only solid criterion of truth. In the first place then,
these men appear to be ignorant of the invariable laws of demonstration
properly so called, and that the necessary requisites of all
demonstrative propositions are these: that they exist as causes, are
primary, more excellent, peculiar, true, and known than the conclusions.
For every demonstration not only consists of principles prior to others,
but of such as are eminently first; since if the assumed propositions may
be demonstrated by other assumptions, such propositions may indeed
appear prior to the conclusions, but are by no means entitled to the
appellation of first. Others, on the contrary, which require no
demonstration, but are of themselves manifest, are deservedly esteemed
the first, the truest, and the best. Such indemonstrable truths were
called by the ancients axioms from their majesty and authority, as the
assumptions which constitute demonstrative syllogisms derive all their
force and efficacy from these.
In the next place, they seem not to be sufficiently aware, that universal
is better than partial demonstration. For that demonstration is the more
excellent which is derived from the better cause; but a universal is more
extended and excellent than a partial cause; since the arduous
investigation of the why in any subject is only stopped by the arrival at
universals. Thus if we desire to know why the outward angles of a
triangle are equal to four right angles, and it is answered, Because the
triangle is isosceles; we again ask, but why Because isosceles? And if it
be replied, Because it is a triangle; we may again inquire, But why
because a triangle? To which we finally answer, because a triangle is a
right-lined figure. And here our inquiry rests at that universal idea,
which embraces every preceding particular one, and is contained in no
other more general and comprehensive than itself. Add too, that the
demonstration of particulars is almost the demonstration of infinites; of
universals the demonstration of finites; and of infinites there can be no
science. That demonstration likewise is the best which furnishes the mind
with the most ample knowledge; and this is, alone, the province of
universals. We may also add, that he who knows universals knows
particulars likewise in capacity; but we can not infer that he who has
the best knowledge of particulars, knows any thing of universals. And
lastly, that which is universal is the object of intellect and reason;
but particulars are coordinated to the perceptions of sense.
But here perhaps the experimentalist will say, admitting all this to be
true, yet we no otherwise obtain a perception of these universals than by
an induction of particulars, and abstraction from sensibles. To this, I
answer that the universal which is the proper object of science, is not
by any means the offspring of abstraction; and induction is no otherwise
subservient to its existence than an exciting cause. For if scientific
conclusions are indubitable, if the truth of demonstration is necessary
and eternal, this universal is truly all, and not like that gained by
abstraction, limited to a certain number of particulars. Thus, the
proposition that the angles of every triangle are equal to two right, if
it is indubitably true, that is, if the term every in it really includes
all triangles, cannot be the result of any abstraction; for this, however
extended it may be, is limited, and falls far short of universal
comprehension. Whence is it then that the dianoetic power concludes thus
confidently that the Proposition is true of all triangles? For if it be
said that the mind, after having abstracted triangle from a certain
number of particulars, adds from itself what is wanting to complete the
all; in the first place, no man, I believe, will say that any such
operation as this took place in his mind when he first learnt this
proposition; and in the next place, if this should be granted, it would
follow that such proposition is a mere fiction, since it is uncertain
whether that which is added to complete the all is truly added; and thus
the conclusion will no longer be indubitably necessary.
In short, if the words all and every, with which every page of theoretic
mathematics is full, mean what they are conceived by all men to mean, and
if the universals which they signify are the proper objects of science,
such universals must subsist in the soul prior to the energies of sense.
Hence it will follow that induction is no otherwise subservient to
science, than as it produces credibility in axioms and petitions; and
this by exciting the universal conception of these latent in the soul.
The particulars, therefore, of which an induction is made in order to
produce science, must be so simple, that they may be immediately
apprehended, and that the universal may be predicated of them without
hesitation. The particulars of the experimentalists are not of this kind,
and therefore never can be sources of science truly so called.
Of this, however, the man of experiment appears to be totally ignorant,
and in consequence of this, he is likewise ignorant that parts can only
be truly known through wholes, and that this is particularly the case
with parts when they belong to a whole, which, as we have already
observed, from comprehending in itself the parts which it produces, is
called a whole prior to parts. As he, therefore, would by no means merit
the appellation of a physician who should attempt to cure any part of the
human body, without a previous knowledge of the whole; so neither can he
know any thing truly of the vegetable life of plants, who has not a
previous knowledge of that vegetable life which subsists in the earth as
a whole prior to, because the principle and cause of all partial
vegetable life, and who still prior to this has not a knowledge of that
greater whole of this kind which subsists in nature herself; nor, as
Hippocrates justly observes, can he know any thing truly of the nature of
the human body who is ignorant what nature is considered as a great
comprehending whole. And if this be true, and it is so most indubitably,
with all physiological inquiries, how much more must it be the case with
respect to a knowledge of those incorporeal forms to which we ascended in
the first part of this Introduction, and which in consequence of
proceeding from wholes entirely exempt from body are participated by it,
with much greater obscurity and imperfection? Here then is the great
difference, and a mighty one it is, between the knowledge gained by the
most elaborate experiments, and that acquired by scientific reasoning,
founded on the spontaneous, unperverted, and self-luminous conceptions of
the soul. The former does not even lead its votary up to that one nature
of the earth from which the natures of all the animals and plants on its
surface, and of all the minerals and metals in its interior parts,
blossom as from a perennial root. The latter conducts its votary through
all the several mundane wholes up to that great whole the world itself,
and thence leads him through the luminous order of incorporeal wholes to
that vast whole of wholes, in which all other wholes are centred and
rooted, and which is no other than the principle of all principles, and
the fountain of deity itself. No less remarkable likewise, is the
difference between the tendencies of the two pursuits, for the one
elevates the soul to the most luminous heights, and to that great
ineffable which is beyond all altitude; but the other is the cause of a
mighty calamity to the soul, since, according to the elegant expression
of Plutarch, it extinguishes her principal and brightest eye, the
knowledge of divinity. In short, the one leads to all that is grand,
sublime and splendid in the universe; the other to all that is little,
groveling[14] and dark. The one is the parent of the most pure and ardent
piety; the genuine progeny of the other are impiety and atheism. And, in
fine, the one confers on its votary the most sincere, permanent, and
exalted delight; the other continual disappointment, and unceasing
molestation.
-----------------
[14] That this must be the tendency of experiment, when prosecuted as the
criterion of truth, is evident from what Bacon, the prince of modern
philosophy, says in the 104th Aphorism of his Novum Organum, that
"baseless fabric of a vision." For he there sagely observes that wings
are not to be added to the human intellect, but rather lead and weights;
that all its leaps and flights may be restrained. That this is not yet
done, but that when it is we may entertain better hopes respecting the
sciences. "Itaque hominum intellectui non plumae addendae, sed plumbum
potius, et pondera; ut cohibeant omnem saltum et volatum. Atque hoc adhuc
factum non est; quum vero factum fuerit, melius de scientiis sperare
licebit." A considerable portion of lead must certainly have been added
to the intellect of Bacon when he wrote this Aphorism.
-----------------
If such then are the consequences, such the tendencies of experimental
inquiries, when prosecuted as the criterion of truth, and daily
experience[15] unhappily shows that they are, there can be no other remedy
for this enormous evil than the intellectual philosophy of Plato. So
obviously excellent indeed is the tendency of this philosophy, that its
author, for a period of more than two thousand years, has been universally
celebrated by the epithet of divine. Such too is its preeminence, that it
may be shown, without much difficulty, that the greatest men of antiquity,
from the time in which its salutary light first blessed the human race,
have been more or less imbued with its sacred principles, have been more or
less the votaries of its divine truths. Thus, to mention a few from among a
countless multitude. In the catalogue of those endued with sovereign power,
it had for its votaries Dion of Siracusian, Julian the Roman, and Chosroes
the Persian, emperor; among the leaders of armies, it had Chabrias and
Phocion, those brave generals of the Athenians; among mathematicians, those
leading stars of science, Eudoxus, Archimedes[16] and Euclid; among
biographers, the inimitable Plutarch; among physicians, the admirable
Galen; among rhetoricians, those unrivaled orators Demosthenes and Cicero;
among critics, that prince of philologists, Longinus; and among poets, the
most learned and majestic Virgil. Instances, though not equally illustrious,
yet approximating to these in splendour, may doubtless be adduced after
the fall of the Roman empire; but then they have been formed on these
great ancients as models, and are, consequently, only rivulets from
Platonic streams. And instances of excellence in philosophic attainments,
similar to those among the Greeks, might have been enumerated among the
moderns, if the hand of barbaric despotism had not compelled philosophy
to retire into the deepest solitude, by demolishing her schools, and
involving the human intellect in Cimmerian darkness. In our own country,
however, though no one appears to have wholly devoted himself to the
study of this philosophy, and he who does not will never penetrate its
depths, yet we have a few bright examples of no common proficiency in its
more accessible parts.
-----------------
[15] I never yet knew a man who made experiment the test of truth, and I
have known many such, that was not atheistically inclined.
[16] I have ranked Archimedes among the Platonists, because he cultivated
the mathematical sciences Platonically, as is evident from the testimony of
Plutarch in his Life of Marcellus, p. 307. For he there informs us that
Archimedes considered the being busied about mechanics, and in short, every
art which is connected with the common purposes of life, as ignoble and
illiberal; and that those things alone were objects of his ambition with
which the beautiful and the excellent were present, unmingled with the
necessary. The great accuracy and elegance in the demonstrations of Euclid
and Archimedes, which have not been equaled by any of our greatest modern
mathematicians, were derived from a deep conviction of this important
truth. On the other hand modern mathematicians, through a profound
ignorance of this divine truth, and looking to nothing but the wants and
conveniences of the animal life of man, as if the gratification of his
senses was his only end, have corrupted pure geometry, by mingling with it
algebraical calculations, and through eagerness to reduce it as much as
possible to practical purposes, have more anxiously sought after
conciseness than accuracy, facility than elegance of geometrical
demonstration.
-----------------
The instances I allude to are Shaftesbury, Akenside, Harris, Petwin, and
Sydenham. So splendid is the specimen of philosophic abilities displayed by
these writers, like the fair dawning of same unclouded morning, that we
have only deeply to regret that the sun of their genius sat before we were
gladdened with its effulgence. Had it shone with its full strength, the
writer of this Introduction would not have attempted either to translate
the works, or elucidate the doctrines of Plato; but though it rose with
vigor, it dispersed not the clouds in which its light was gradually
involved, and the eye in vain anxiously waited for it's meridian beam.
In short, the principles of the philosophy of Plato are of all others the
most friendly to true piety, pure morality, solid learning, and sound
government. For as it is scientific in all its parts, and in these parts
comprehends all that can be known by man in theology and ethics, and all
that is necessary for him to know in physics, it must consequently contain
in itself the source of all that is great and good both to individuals and
communities, must necessarily exalt while it benefits, and deify while it
exalts.
We have said that this philosophy at first shone forth through Plato with
an occult and venerable splendor; and it is owing to the hidden manner in
which it is delivered by him, that its depth was not fathomed till many
ages after it's promulgation, and when fathomed, was treated by
superficial readers with ridicule and contempt. Plato indeed, is not
singular in delivering his philosophy occultly: for this was the custom
of all the great ancients; a custom not originating from a wish to become
tyrants in knowledge, and keep the multitude in ignorance, but from a
profound conviction that the sublimest truths are profaned when clearly
unfolded to the vulgar. This indeed must necessarily follow; since, as
Socrates in Plato justly observes, "it is not lawful for the pure to be
touched by the impure;" and the multitude are neither purified from the
defilements of vice, nor the darkness of twofold ignorance. Hence, while
they are thus doubly impure, it is as impossible for them to perceive the
splendors of truth, as for an eye buried in mire to survey the light
of day.
The depth of this philosophy then does not appear to have been perfectly
penetrated except by the immediate disciples of Plato, for more than five
hundred years after its first propagation. For though Crantor, Atticus,
Albinus, Galen and Plutarch, were men of great genius, and made no common
proficiency in Philosophic attainments, yet they appear not to have
developed the profundity of Plato's conceptions; they withdrew not the
veil which covers his secret meaning, like the curtains which guarded the
adytum of temples from the profane eye; and they saw not that all behind
the veil is luminous, and that there divine spectacles[17] every where
present themselves to the view. This task was reserved for men who were
born indeed in a baser age, but, who being allotted a nature similar to
their leader, were the true interpreters of his mystic speculations. The
most conspicuous of these are the great Plotinus, the most learned
Porphyry, the divine Jamblichus, the most acute Syrianus, Proclus the
consummation of philosophic excellence, the magnificent Hierocles, the
concisely elegant Sallust, and the most inquisitive Damascius. By these
men, who were truly links of the golden chain of deity, all that is
sublime, all that is mystic in the doctrines of Plato (and they are
replete with both these in a transcendent degree), was freed from its
obscurity and unfolded into the most pleasing and admirable light. Their
labors, however, have been ungratefully received. The beautiful light
which they benevolently disclosed has hitherto unnoticed illumined
philosophy in her desolate retreats, like a lamp shining on some
venerable statue amidst dark and solitary ruins. The prediction of the
master has been unhappily fulfilled in these his most excellent
disciples. "For an attempt of this kind," says he,[18] "will only be
beneficial to a few, who from small vestiges, previously demonstrated,
are themselves able to discover these abstruse particulars. But with
respect to the rest of mankind, some it will fill with a contempt by no
means elegant, and others with a lofty and arrogant hope, that they shall
now learn certain excellent things." Thus with respect to these admirable
men, the last and the most legitimate of the followers of Plato, some
from being entirely ignorant of the abstruse dogmas of Plato, and finding
these interpreters full of conceptions which are by no means obvious to
every one in the writings of that philosopher, have immediately concluded
that such conceptions are mere jargon and revery, that they are not truly
Platonic, and that they are nothing more than streams, which, though,
originally derived from a pure fountain, have become polluted by distance
from their source. Others, who pay attention to nothing but the most
exquisite purity of language, look down with contempt upon every writer
who lived after the fall of the Macedonian empire; as if dignity and
weight of sentiment were inseparable from splendid and accurate diction;
or as if it were impossible for elegant writers to exist in a degenerate
age. So far is this from being the case, that though the style of
Plotinus[19] and Jamblichus[20] is by no means to be compared with that
of Plato, yet this inferiority is lost in the depth and sublimity of
their conceptions, and is as little regarded by the intelligent reader,
as motes in a sunbeam by the eye that gladly turns itself to the
solar light.
--------------
[17] See my Dissertation on the Mysteries.
[18]See the 7th Epistle of Plato.
[19] It would seem that those intemperate critics who have thought proper
to revile Plotinus, the leader of the latter Platonists, have paid no
attention to the testimony of Longinus concerning this most wonderful
man, as preserved by Porphyry in his life of him. For Longinus there
says, "that though he does not entirely accede to many of his hypotheses,
yet he exceedingly admires and loves the form of his writing, the density
of his conceptions, and the philosophic manner in which his questions are
disposed." And in another place he says, "Plotinus, as it seems, has
explained the Pythagoric and Platonic principles more clearly than those
that were prior to him; for neither are the writings of Numenius,
Cronius, Moderatus, and Thrasyllus, to be compared with those of Plotinus
on this subject." After such a testimony as this from such a consummate
critic as Longinus, the writings of Plotinus have nothing to fear from
the imbecile censure of modern critics. I shall only further observe,
that Longinus, in the above testimony, does not give the least hint of
his having found any polluted streams, or corruption of the doctrines of
Plato, in the works of Plotinus. There is not indeed the least vestige of
his entertaining any such opinion in any part of what he has said about
this most extraordinary man. This discovery was reserved for the more
acute critic of modern times, who, by a happiness of conjecture unknown
to the ancients, and the assistance of a good index, can in a few days
penetrate the meaning of the profoundest writer of antiquity, and bid
defiance even to the decision of Longinus.
[20] Of this most divine man, who is justly said by the emperor Julian to
have been posterior indeed in time, but not in genius even to Plato himself,
see the life which I have given in the History of the Restoration of the
Platonic Theology, in the second vol. of my Proclus on Euclid.
----------------------
As to the style of Porphyry, when we consider that he was the disciple of
Longinus, whom Eunapius elegantly calls "a certain living library, and
walking museum," it is but reasonable to suppose that he imbibed some
portion of his master's excellence in writing. That he did so is
abundantly evident from the testimony of Eunapius, who particularly
commends his style for its clearness, purity, and grace. "Hence," he
says, "Porphyry being let down to men like a mercurial chain, through his
various erudition, unfolded every thing into perspicuity, and purity."
And in another place he speaks of him as abounding with all the graces of
diction, and as the only one that exhibited and proclaimed the praise of
his master. With respect to the style of Proclus, it is pure, clear and
elegant, like that of Dionysius Halicarnassus; but is much more copious
and magnificent; that of Hierocles is venerable and majestic, and nearly
equals the style of the greatest ancients; that of Sallust possesses an
accuracy and a pregnant brevity, which cannot easily be distinguished
from the composition of the Stagirite; and lastly, that of Damascius is
clear and accurate, and highly worthy a most investigating mind.
Others again have filled themselves with a vain confidence, from reading
of commentaries of these admirable interpreters, and have in a short time
considered themselves superior to their masters. This was the case with
Ficinus, Picus, Dr. Henry Moore, and other pseudo Platonists, their
contemporaries, who, in order to combine Christianity with the doctrines
of Plato, rejected some of his most important tenets, and perverted
others, and thus corrupted one of these systems, and afforded no real
benefit to the other.
But who are the men by whom these latter interpreters of Plato are
reviled? When and whence did this defamation originate? Was it when the
fierce champions for the trinity fled from Galilee to the groves of
Academus, and invoked, but in vain, the assistance of Philosophy? When
The trembling grove confessed its fright,
The wood-nymphs started at the sight;
Ilissus backward urg'd his course,
And rush'd indignant to his source.
Was it because that mitred sophist, Warburton, thought fit to talk of the
polluted streams of the Alexandrian school, without knowing any thing of
the source whence those streams are derived? Or was it because some heavy
German critic, who knew nothing beyond a verb in mi, presumed to grunt at
these venerable heroes? Whatever was its source, and whenever it
originated, for I have not been able to discover either, this however is
certain, that it owes its being to the most profound Ignorance, or the
most artful Sophistry, and that its origin is no less contemptible than
obscure. For let us but for a moment consider the advantages which these
latter Platonists possessed beyond any of their modern revilers. In the
first place, they had the felicity of having the Greek for their native
language, and must therefore, as they were confessedly, learned men, have
understood that language incomparably better than any man since the time
in which the ancient Greek was a living tongue. In the next place, they
had books to consult, written by the immediate disciples of Plato, which
have been lost for upwards of a thousand years, besides many Pythagoric
writings from which Plato himself derived most of his more sublime
dogmas. Hence we find the works of Parmenides, Empedocles, the Electic
Zeno, Speusippus, Xenocrates, and many other illustrious philosophers of
the highest antiquity, who were either genuine Platonists or the sources
of Platonism, are continually cited by these most excellent interpreters,
and in the third place they united the greatest purity of life to the
most piercing vigor of intellect. Now when it is considered that the
philosophy to the study of which these great men devoted their lives, was
professedly delivered by its author in obscurity; that Aristotle himself
studied it for twenty years; and that it was no uncommon thing, as Plato
informs us in one of his Epistles, to find students unable to comprehend
its sublimest tenets even in a longer period than this,--when all these
circumstances are considered, what must we think of the arrogance, not to
say impudence, of men in the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth
centuries, who have dared to calumniate these great masters of wisdom? Of
men, with whom the Greek is no native language; who have no such books to
consult as those had whom they revile; who have never thought, even in a
dream, of making the acquisition of wisdom the great object of their
life; and who in short have committed that most baneful error of
mistaking philology for philosophy, and words for things? When such as
these dare to defame men who may be justly ranked among the greatest and
wisest of the ancients, what else can be said than that they are the
legitimate descendants of the suitors of Penelope, whom, in the animated
language of Ulysses,
Laws or divine or human fail'd to move,
Or shame of men, or dread of gods above:
Heedless alike of infamy or praise,
Or Fame's eternal voice in future days,[21]
-----------------
[21] Pope's Odyssey, book xxii, v. 47, &c.
-----------------
But it is now time to present the reader with a general view of the works
of Plato, and, also to speak of the preambles, digressions, and style of
their author, and of the following translation. In accomplishing the
first of these, I shall avail myself of the synopsis of Mr. Sydenham,
taking the liberty at the same time of correcting it where it appears to
be erroneous, and of making additions to it where it appears to be
deficient.
The dialogues of Plato are of various kinds; not only with regard to
those different matters, which are the subjects of them; but in respect
of the manner also in which they are composed or framed, and of the form
under which they make their appearance to the reader. It will therefore,
as I imagine, be not improper, in pursuance of the admonition given us by
Plato himself in his dialogue named Phaedrus[22] and in imitation of the
example set us by the ancient Platonists to distinguish the several
kinds; by dividing them, first, into the most general; and then,
subdividing into the subordinate; till we come to those lower species,
that particularly and precisely denote the nature of the several
dialogues, and from which they ought to take their respective
denominations.
----------------
[22] Whoever is unable to divide and distinguish things into their
several sorts or species; and, on the other hand, referring every
particular to its proper species, to comprehend them all in one general
idea; will never understand any writings of which those things are the
subject, like a true critic, upon those high principles of art to which
the human understanding reaches. We have thought proper, here, to
paraphrase this passage, for the sake of giving to every part of so
important a sentence its full force, agreeably to the tenor of Plato's
doctrine; and in order to initiate our readers into a way of thinking,
that probably many of them are as yet unacquainted with.
----------------
The most general division of the writings of Plato, is into those of the
Sceptical kind, and those of they Dogmatical. In the former sort, nothing
is expressly either proved or asserted, some philosophical question only is
considered and examined; and the reader is left to himself to draw such
conclusions, and discover such truths as the philosopher means to
insinuate. This is done, either in the way of inquiry, or in the way of
controversy and dispute. In the way of controversy are carried on all such
dialogues, as tend to eradicate false opinions; and that, either indirectly,
by involving them in difficulties, and embarrassing the maintainers of them;
or directly, by confuting them. In the way of inquiry proceed those whose
tendency is to raise in the mind right opinions; and that either by exciting
to the pursuit of some part of wisdom, and showing in what manner to
investigate it; or by leading the way, and helping the mind forward in the
search. And this is effected by a process through opposing arguments.[23]
------------------
[23] It is necessary to observe that Plato in the Parmenides calls all
that part of his Dialectic, which proceeds through opposite arguments, an
exercise and wandering.
------------------
The dialogues of the other kind, the Dogmatical or Didactic, teach
explicitly some point of doctrine; and this they do either by laying it
down in the authoritative way, or by proving it in the ways of reason and
argument. In the authoritative way the doctrine is delivered, sometimes by
the speaker himself magisterially, at other times as derived to him by
tradition from wise men. The argumentative or demonstrative method of
teaching, used by Plato, proceeds in all the dialectic ways, dividing,
defining, demonstrating, and analysing; and the object of it consists in
exploring truth alone. According to this division is framed the following
scheme, or table: