request of his followers, he commenced writing what subsequently became
known as _The Enneads of Plotinus_. Twenty-one of these books were
completed when, at the age of fifty-nine, he first met Porphyry, who is
our principal source of information with regard to his manner of life
and the main facts of his career. To Porphyry was eventually allotted
the task of editing his writings, which he divided into six volumes of
nine books each, the number of books in each volume being thus used to
give a name to his whole system of philosophy (Enneads, Greek ἐννεα,
nine).
That his treatises were in urgent need of a competent editor is apparent
from the observations which Porphyry makes with regard to his methods of
composition. He was in the habit of writing down his thoughts just as
they occurred to him, and “could not (says his biographer) by any means
endure to review twice what he had written, nor even to read his own
composition,” mainly on account of his defective eyesight. Nor, indeed,
was he by any means a perfect master of the Greek language, in which his
lectures were delivered and his books written. Porphyry in fact
observes, let us hope with some exaggeration, that he “neither formed
the letters with accuracy, nor exactly distinguished the syllables, nor
bestowed any diligent attention on the orthography, but neglecting all
these as trifles, he was alone attentive to the intellection of his
wonderful mind, and, to the admiration of all his disciples, persevered
in this custom to the end of his life.”
One is, indeed, not a little impressed how entirely, in the later days
of the Roman Empire, “captive Greece led captive her conquerors.” Greek
philosophy and Greek ideas had, in truth, permeated the whole civilised
world. Not only was this the case, but when the Western or Roman Empire
fell eventually into decrepitude and ruin, its Eastern partner, though
threatened and harassed by barbarian foes on all its borders, continued
to survive the extinction of the erstwhile mistress of the world by
something like a thousand years. Alexandria was, however, destined to
destruction by an Arab invasion long ere this, and never recovered from
its sack by the Mohammedan Amru in A.D. 640. The survival of the Eastern
Empire was doubtless due in great part to the superior vitality of the
Greek race; but it does not admit of doubt that it would have fallen a
victim to the Moslem invader at least 500 years before the date of its
final doom, had it not been for Constantine’s choice of an Eastern
capital and the almost impregnable position enjoyed by the imperial
city. It is open to conjecture that had the British Government of the
present day been better acquainted with the history of Constantinople
and the many sieges which it had successfully sustained, they would have
thought twice, and indeed thrice, before launching without adequate
preparation, the ill-fated expedition to the Dardanelles.
The dialectical disquisitions of Plotinus were delivered in Greek, and
his whole trend of thought was essentially Greek in character. One is
inclined to ask oneself indeed whether the Latin language would have
been capable of expressing the subtleties of his philosophical
speculation. In this connection the similarity of his ideas to those
enunciated in the great Vedantic system of Indian philosophy must not
blind us to the fact that his method of treating his subject, and the
closely reasoned arguments which he adduces in the defence of his scheme
of the universe, are purely and entirely Greek. This appears to me to be
the real truth in relation to a much disputed point, as to what Plotinus
owed to Indian thought on the one hand, and to Greek culture and Greek
philosophy on the other.
When Milton appealed to the Divine Muse to enable him to “soar above the
Aonian Mount” and achieve “things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme,” he
was in truth taking on a small order compared with the tremendous task
which Plotinus set himself in his attempted solution of the riddle of
the universe. To say that his exposition of his system lends itself to
criticism in more than one vital point is merely to state that he was
human. Whoever attempts to go behind phenomena and postulate a First
Cause, whether we denominate that Cause The One, like Plotinus, or The
Good, like Plato, or The Absolute, like Herbert Spencer, is manifestly
passing into realms of thought with which the human mind is incompetent
to deal. It stands to reason, indeed, that the finite mind cannot
comprehend the infinite, and logic, therefore, inevitably fails us. But
there is in truth another side to this most recondite problem. Though
logic cannot fathom it, and though the finite cannot comprehend the
infinite, yet the infinite spirit may contact infinity. In other words,
the infinite in man, that is, the divine spark, which is part and parcel
of infinity, may realise the infinite within itself, not, indeed, by any
logical process, but by the immediate experience implicit in spiritual
union. Hence the possibility of that form of mystical ecstasy which has
been denominated Cosmic Consciousness, and which it is narrated that
Plotinus experienced no less than four times during the six years,
262-268, when Porphyry was his companion in Rome. The effect of these
experiences on Plotinus is very evident in his philosophy. They led to
his emphasising the unity of all creation, and its oneness with the
Divine, and the natural corollary of this, the illusory nature of
separate individuality. Hence that which causes individuality, the
principle of limitation inherent in matter, appears to him itself also
of an illusory nature, that is, essentially incapable of acquiring or
participating in real existence. From this negative character of matter
arise, according to Plotinus, the imperfections of the material
universe, and its inability to conform to the ideal or intelligible
order.
At the basis of the system of Plotinus there is postulated then an ideal
universe which constitutes an archetype or pattern of the phenomenal
order which our senses apprehend. Plotinus assumes three root principles
which he denominates the Three Divine Hypostases, and which have been
since designated the Alexandrian Trinity, though it would be a mistake
to confuse this triad with the Trinity of the Christian Creed. The First
Divine Hypostasis is the Prime Source of Being, denominated, as already
stated, the One or the Good. This corresponds to the Absolute of the
Spencerian philosophy, and Plotinus tells us that it transcends all
known attributes—so much so, in fact, that even existence itself cannot
be predicated of it. Every being, according to the Plotinian system,
tends to produce an image of itself. Hence we have the Second and Third
of these Divine Principles, emanating in their turn from the First. The
Second Divine Hypostasis our philosopher designates the Intelligible
Universe or Universal Intelligence. This is the sphere of Absolute
Reality or Essence, and constitutes a manifestation of the creative
power of the One. The Third Divine Hypostasis is the Universal Soul, and
this again is the image of the Second; but it differs from its principal
in the fact that life in its sphere is no longer inert or motionless,
but revolves about and within the Universal Intelligence. By way of
explanation, Plotinus offers the parallel of one circle enclosed within
another and larger but concentric circle which revolves about it, the
common centre of both being represented by the One or First Hypostasis,
the motionless inner circle by the Universal Intelligence, and the
revolving outer circle by the Universal Soul; though it is recognised
that this form of symbolism can be pressed too far, as the expressions
“external” and “internal” in this connection have no real validity.
Matter, as already stated, is regarded as possessing no definite
attributes of its own; but it is capable of receiving a semblance of
life by reflecting the forms derived by the Universal Soul from the
Second Divine Principle or Intelligible Universe. Matter, then, serves
as a mirror upon which the Universal Soul projects the images or
reflections of its creations, and thus gives rise to the phenomena of
the sensible universe. This universe, which we are accustomed to term
the Phenomenal World, holds an intermediate position between Reality and
Negation owing to its participation in matter, which Plotinus identifies
with Evil as being the negation of the Spiritual or Real. The existence
of the Universal Soul is an eternal contemplation of the One as revealed
in the sphere of Intelligence or Beauty (the Second Divine Hypostasis)
and is itself an indivisible noncorporeal essence, possessing
omnipresent consciousness. While, then, one part of the Universal Soul
inhabits the sphere of Intelligence, its inferior part has relation with
the Sensible World, or Material Universe. The Universal Soul by this
relation with the Material Universe gives birth to the phenomena of
Nature in all their varied manifestation. But whereas the object of
contemplation of the Universal Soul is the One as revealed in terms of
Beauty or the Intelligible Order, the object of the contemplation of
Nature is Nature itself. Nature, in short, contemplates the forms of its
own creation, and hence arise the imperfections of its manifestation.
“The character of the material universe [following Dr Whitby,[5] in his
summary of the doctrine of Plotinus] is thus due to the irradiation of
matter or chaos by the complex unity of forms or reasons (_logoi_)
derived by the Universal Soul from its contemplation of the sphere of
essential reality and Absolute Perfection. By reason of the inability of
matter to participate fully in the real qualities of existence, it
follows that the perfection of the material universe is inferior to that
of the Universal Soul, and still more so to that of the Intelligible
Universe.” In writing “on the nature and origin of evil,” our
philosopher observes, “Whatever is deficient of good in a small degree
is not yet evil, since it is capable from its nature of becoming
perfect. But whatever is perfectly destitute of good, and such is
matter, is evil in reality, possessing no portion of good. For, indeed,
matter does not, properly speaking, possess being, by means of which it
might be invested with good. But the attribute of being is only
equivocally affirmed of matter.”
The association of matter with the soul arises from the voluntary
determination of the individual consciousness towards the material
plane. But it must not be supposed that this commingling of the soul and
matter results in any actual union between the two in the same sense as
in the chemical world hydrogen and oxygen combine to form water. For
matter, as explained above, is in the nature of a mirror which the
divine light of the soul illuminates but which is incapable of receiving
into itself that light by which it is illuminated. “But [observes
Plotinus][6] matter obscures by its sordid mixture and renders feeble
the light which emanates from the soul and, by opposing the waters of
generation, it occasions the soul’s entrance into the rapid stream, and
by this means renders her light, which is in itself vigorous and pure,
polluted and feeble, like the faint glimmerings from a watch tower
beheld in a storm. For if matter were never present, the soul would
never approach to generation; and this is the lapse of the soul, thus to
descend into matter and become debilitated and impure, inasmuch as
matter prohibits many of the soul’s powers from their natural
activities, comprehending and as it were contracting the place which the
soul contains, in her dark embrace.” Matter thus is the cause of the
evil inherent in the material world, as without this the soul would have
for ever remained “permanent and pure.”
Matter, in itself, possesses no form, being unable to sustain order or
measure. The soul, however, by its union with matter, imposes form upon
it, this form being the result of the combination of the limitation
inherent in matter, in union with the archetypal idea of which the soul
is the expression. We have, then, a conception of the universe, of which
the One represents Infinity, and matter, the opposite pole, or zero.
Owing, however, to the fact that no attributes or qualities can be
predicated of the One, and that this is, in a negative sense, also the
case with matter, which is the privation of being, we arrive at a
certain confusion, the attempts of our philosopher to explain matter
leading to phrases which are equally applicable to Infinity or the One.
The two extremes of Absolute Being and Non-Being appear, in short, to
meet, and a resulting bewilderment arises in the mind, which one is
rather inclined to gather, was not entirely absent from the thought of
Plotinus himself. It may be suggested, tentatively, that this _impasse_
arises rather from the failure of Plotinus to describe the One in more
positive terms, than in his defective description of the negative
qualities of matter. The fact that the One of Plotinus is conceived of
as such that no language is able to express it, does not, in reality,
justify the philosopher in describing it in terms of negation, however
much positive statements may fall short of portraying the Absolute
Reality. Of matter itself, however, we ought perhaps to predicate a
relative though inferior reality; even while we admit that the presence
of spirit is in inverse proportion to the density of matter.
In the view of Plotinus the universe is a single vast conscious organism
of which all the parts are similarly endowed with consciousness. He
attributes a species of divinity to the Sun and the stars, and appears
to accept the theory of planetary spirits. Thus also Origen observes:
“As our body while consisting of human members is yet held together by
one soul, so the universe is to be thought of as an immense living being
which is held together by one soul, the power of the logos, God.”
According to Plotinus it is truer to state that the body is in the soul
than that the soul is in the body, inasmuch as the soul is transcendent
as well as immanent in the corporeal form. Thus, when a particular body
acquires life the soul which is destined to animate it does not in
reality descend into it and become identified with it, but rather the
body comes within the sphere of its influence, thus attaining to the
world of life. This explanation is, it seems to me, helpful in enabling
us to understand the gradual process by which the individual
consciousness becomes _en rapport_ with the immature bodies of
childhood. Following out the same theory we can understand the doctrine
of early Gnostic sects, that Jesus of Nazareth was overshadowed by the
Christ, and also we may believe, if we will, that the guardian angels of
the little children who, as Jesus asserted, “do always behold the face
of My Father which is in Heaven” are indeed their own higher spiritual
selves, attracted on the one hand to those physical bodies of which they
are the prospective tenants, and on the other looking regretfully back
to their pre-natal home in the spiritual world.
Like the Deity, the soul is in the nature of a trinity, the occult
axiom, “As above, so below” being implicit in Plotinus’s philosophy.
Thus man consists, firstly, of the animal, or sensual soul, which is
closely united with the body; secondly, of the logical, or reasoning
soul; and thirdly, of that individualised portion of the divine essence
whose proper habitation is the Intelligible Universe, of which it in its
origin forms a part. The return of the soul to the One is accomplished
by means of a gradual process of purification, which eventually, after
an immeasurable period of time, releases the soul from its inclination
towards the plane of sensibility; _i.e._ its attraction to the material
world. The philosophy of Plotinus thus included the doctrine of
metempsychosis, as regards the affirmation of the truth of which he is
very emphatic. For he declares that “The gods bestow on each the destiny
which appertains to him, and which harmonises with his antecedents in
his successive existences. Every one who is not aware of this is grossly
ignorant of divine matters.” He would even appear to admit that at times
fallen human souls are imprisoned in the bodies of animals, but speaks
less confidently on this head.
The conceptions of Plotinus explain many of those psychical phenomena
which have so much puzzled our modern scientists, and offer a solution
for the much-debated problems involved in the phenomena of telepathy,
magic, and planetary influence. “The sensitivity of nature [writes Dr
Whitby, summarising this side of Plotinus’s philosophy] is manifested as
a vital nexus in virtue of which every minutest and remotest particle of
the universe is intimately correlated and symbolically united to the
rest. The universe as a whole, although thus endowed with a potential
sensitivity, may nevertheless be considered as impassive, because the
soul which animates and pervades it has no need of sensations for its
own enlightenment and does not, in fact, regard them. Nevertheless, and
for the simple reason that nature is a living organism, sympathetic
throughout, individual parts of the universe have a quasi-sensitivity,
and respond to impressions from without. When, for example, the stars,
in answer to human invocations, confer benefits upon men, they do so,
not by a voluntary action, but because their natural or unreasoning
psychical faculties are unconsciously affected. Similarly demons may be
charmed by spells or prayers acting upon the unreasoning part of their
nature.” For, according to Plotinus, the universe is a vast chain, of
which every being is a link.
Plotinus, like every one else who has attempted to solve the Riddle of
the Sphinx, is up against the basic facts of existence. Boldly and
perseveringly as we may attempt to face the problem, the Sphinx sits and
smiles with the smile that will not come off, well knowing that however
near we may seem to be to the solution of the mystery, the problem will
still baffle us, and remain unsolved to the end. We may postulate a
Deity who is all Perfection, but, if we do so, it rests with us to
explain how it is that evil is present in the universe, if this Deity is
in reality, as Plotinus and other philosophers have taught us, the All.
We may postulate matter as inherently evil in nature, in opposition to
the Good, but if so, whence comes that which is not included in the All?
If matter is the mere privation of good, whence come its apparently very
positive qualities? If the All is complete and perfect in itself, what
need for the manifested universe? What need for the striving after a
higher perfection, which gives the lie to the Absolute Perfection
predicated of the One? Matthew Arnold has adopted the hypothesis of a
“Power, not ourselves, which makes for righteousness”; but in this
hypothesis he first abandons the conception of the unity of the All and
subsequently throws over the idea of divine perfection. For his Deity
is, after all, only striving after a perfection which he has not yet
reached.
The dualistic conception offers in truth fewer difficulties to the
ordinary mind. It is more in accordance with the obvious facts of
existence, which are brought under our notice every day of our lives.
Deceptive and illusory though the conception may be, we still appear to
be confronted by the existence of a gigantic struggle between good and
evil in which the two combatants are more nearly matched than we care to
admit. We like to shut our eyes to this and postulate a Deity of
infinite power and infinite beneficence, but, while we do so, we are for
ever admitting into our intellectual sphere certain conceptions that run
counter to this theory, and in order to acquit our Deity of
responsibility for the evil which we see ever around us, we make of the
Devil a scapegoat who, in practice, bears on his shoulders the sins of
the whole world; or alternatively we accept a conception of God and the
Devil which runs on parallel lines with that of Dickens’ Spenlow and
Jawkins. If behind Good and Evil, the two forces which are everlastingly
struggling for the mastery, we have, as Plotinus and other of the wisest
philosophers assure us, some principle of Unity from which both alike
flow, are we justified in postulating of that Unity Absolute Perfection
and Absolute Power? Or are we not nearer the mark in describing it in
the Nietzschean phrase as “beyond good and evil,” as possessed of
attributes and qualities which finite brains are incapable of
apprehending? Are we not indeed darkening counsel by attributing to this
Unknown a perfection which, after all, the entire gamut of existence
suggests to us has never yet been reached through all the æons even
though we may be approaching nearer to it every day and every hour?
The creation of the universe, if we are to accept the system of
Plotinus, did not actually take place in time. He argues this point out
with much subtlety and ingenuity in his essay “on Providence,” rejecting
the hypothesis of “a certain foresight and discursive consideration on
the part of Deity, deliberating in what condition the world should be
especially formed, and by what means it may be constituted as far as
possible for the best”; and accepting in place of it the assumption that
the universe always had a being, and that it was “formed according to
intellect, and intellect not preceding _in time_ but prior[7]; because
the world is its offspring, and because intellect is the cause and the
world its image, perpetually subsisting in the same manner and flowing
from this as its source.” In other words, being faced with the
alternative of assuming a definite date at which life began, or
postulating existence from all eternity, he accepts the latter as
presenting the lesser difficulty of the two; but in order to do so, he
finds himself involved in the necessity of admitting a sequence of cause
and effect which the finite mind is quite unable to dissociate from the
conception of time. Failing this, his whole theory of the three Divine
Hypostases falls to the ground. If we adopt the alternative which
Plotinus rejected, we are plunged into still greater embarrassment; for
if creation began in time, why did the All or the One wait through all
the æons of eternity[8] for its commencement? And how, indeed, did time
itself evolve from eternity, in view of the fact that the two ideas have
no apparent relation to each other? The philosopher may
plunge into eternity where recorded time
Seems but a point, and the reluctant mind
Flags wearily in its unending flight
Till it sink dizzy, blind, lost, shelterless.[9]
He may do this, indeed, but after all he will not have solved the Riddle
of the Sphinx.
Footnote 4:
Constantine became sole Emperor in 323 A.D. The Athenian schools of
philosophy were suppressed by Justinian in 529 A.D.
Footnote 5:
To whose book, _The Wisdom of Plotinus_ (Rider, 3s. 6d. net) I must
acknowledge my indebtedness.
Footnote 6:
Plotinus on _The Nature and Origin of Evil_ (Taylor’s Translation).
Footnote 7:
_I.e._, prior in the sense that cause precedes effect.
Footnote 8:
The Indian conception of the inbreathing and outbreathing of Brahma
may help us here, but it does not entirely get over the difficulty.
Footnote 9:
Shelley, “Prometheus Unbound.”
III
MICHAEL SCOT
The name of Michael Scot is principally familiar to English readers
through Sir Walter Scott’s _Lay of the Last Minstrel_. Shakespeare’s
_Tempest_ and Scott’s _Lay of the Last Minstrel_ are probably the two,
best-known works among English classics which breathe throughout the
weird and fascinating atmosphere of mediæval magic. Prospero is a
magician, and the whole plot of the _Tempest_ is based upon his magical
practices and their consequences. The Lady of Branksome in the _Lay of
the Last Minstrel_ has also learned from her father the “forbidden art.”