Beauty[4] for the most part, consists in objects of sight; but it is also
received through the ears, by the skilful composition of words, and
the consonant proportion of sounds; for in every species of harmony,
beauty is to be found. And if we rise from sense into the regions of
soul, we shall there perceive studies and offices, actions and habits,
sciences and virtues, invested with a much larger portion of beauty.
But whether there is above these, a still higher beauty, will appear as
we advance in its investigation. What is it then, which causes bodies
to appear fair to the sight, sounds beautiful to the ear, and science
and virtue lovely to the mind? May we not enquire after what
manner they all partake of beauty? Whether beauty is one and the
same in all? Or, whether the beauty of bodies is of one kind, and the
beauty of souls of another? And again, what these are, if they are
two? Or, what beauty is, if perfectly simple, and one? For some
things, as bodies, are doubtless beautiful, not from the natures of the
subjects in which they reside, but rather by some kind of
participation; but others again appear to be essentially beautiful, or
beauties themselves; and such is the nature of virtue. For, with
respect, to the same bodies, they appear beautiful to one person, and
the reverse of beauty to another; as if the essence of body were a
thing different from the essence of beauty. In the first place then,
what is that, which, by its presence, causes the beauty of bodies? Let
us reflect, what most powerfully attracts the eyes of beholders, and
seizes the spectator with rapturous delight; for if we can find what
this is, we may perhaps use it as a ladder, enabling us to ascend into
the region of beauty, and survey its immeasurable extent.
It is the general opinion that a certain commensuration of parts to
each other, and to the whole, with the addition, of colour, generates
that beauty which is the object of sight; and that in the
commensurate and the moderate alone the beauty of everything
consists. But from such an opinion the compound only, and not the
simple, can be beautiful, the single parts will have no peculiar
beauty; and will only merit that appellation by conferring to the
beauty of the whole. But it is surely necessary that a lovely whole
should consist of beautiful parts, for the fair can never rise out of the
deformed. But from such a definition, it follows, that beautiful
colours and the light of the sun, since they are simple and do not
receive their beauty from commensuration, must be excluded the
regions of beauty. Besides, how, from such an hypothesis can gold
be beautiful? Or the glittering of night and the glorious spectacle of
the stars? In like manner, the most simple musical sounds will be
foreign from beauty, though in a song wholly beautiful every note
must be beautiful, as necessary to the being of the whole. Again,
since the same proportion remaining, the same face is to one person
beautiful and to another the reverse, is it not necessary to call
the beauty of the commensurate one kind of beauty and the
commensuration another kind, and that the commensurate is fair by
means of something else? But if transferring themselves to beautiful
studies and fair discourses, they shall assign as the cause of beauty
in these the proportion of measure, what is that which in beautiful
sciences, laws or disciplines, is called commensurate proportion? Or
in what manner can speculations themselves be called mutually
commensurate? If it be said because of the inherent concord, we
reply that there is a certain concord and consent in evil souls, a
conformity of sentiment, in believing (as it is said) that temperance
is folly and justice generous ignorance. It appears, therefore, that the
beauty of the soul is every virtue, and this species of the beautiful
possesses far greater reality than any of the superior we have
mentioned. But after what manner in this is commensuration to be
found? For it is neither like the symmetry in magnitude nor in
numbers. And since the parts of the soul are many, in what
proportion and synthesis, in what temperament of parts or concord
of speculations, does beauty consist? Lastly, of what kind is the
beauty of intellect itself, abstracted from every corporeal concern,
and intimately conversing with itself alone?
We still, therefore, repeat the question, What is the beauty of bodies?
It is something which at first view presents itself to sense, and which
the soul familiarly apprehends and eagerly embraces, as if it were
allied to itself. But when it meets with the deformed, it hastily starts
from the view and retires abhorrent from its discordant nature. For
since the soul in its proper state ranks according to the most
excellent essence in the order of things, when it perceives any object
related to itself, or the mere vestige of a relation, it congratulates
itself on the pleasing event, and astonished with the striking
resemblance[5] enters deep into its essence, and, by rousing its
dormant powers, at length perfectly recollects its kindred and allies.
What is the similitude then between the beauties of sense and that
beauty which is divine? For if there be any similitude the respective
objects must be similar. But after what manner are the two beautiful?
For it is by participation of species that we call every sensible object
beautiful. Thus, since everything void of form is by nature fitted for
its reception, as far as it is destitute of reason and form it is base and
separate from the divine reason, the great fountain of forms; and
whatever is entirely remote from this immortal source is perfectly
base and deformed.[6] And such is matter, which by its nature is
ever averse from the supervening irradiations of form. Whenever,
therefore, form accedes, it conciliates in amicable unity the parts
which are about to compose a whole; for being itself one it is not
wonderful that the subject of its power should tend to unity, as far as
the nature of a compound will admit. Hence beauty is established in
multitude when the many is reduced into one, and in this case it
communicates itself both to the parts and to the whole. But when a
particular one, composed from similar parts, is received it gives
itself to the whole, without departing from the sameness and
integrity of its nature. Thus at one and the same time it
communicates itself to the whole building and its several parts; and
at another time confines itself to a single stone, and then the first
participation arises from the operations of art, but the second from
the formation of nature. And hence body becomes beautiful through
the communion supernally proceeding from divinity.
But the soul, by her innate power, than which nothing more
powerful, in judging its proper concerns, when another soul concurs
in the decision, acknowledges the beauty of forms. And, perhaps, its
knowledge in this case arises from its accommodating its internal
ray of beauty to form, and trusting to this in its judgment; in the
same manner as a rule is employed in the decision of what is straight.
But how can that which is inherent in body, accord with that which
is above body? Let us reply by asking how the architect pronounces
the building beautiful by accommodating the external structure the
fabric of his soul? Perhaps, because the outward building, when
entirely deprived of the stones, is no other than the intrinsic form,
divided by the external mass of matter, but indivisibly existing,
though appearing in the many. When, therefore, sense beholds the
form in bodies, at strife with matter, binding and vanquishing its
contrary nature, and sees form gracefully shining forth in other
forms, it collects together the scattered whole, and introduces it to
itself, and to the indivisible form within; and renders it consonant,
congruous and friendly to its own intimate form. Thus, to the good
man, virtue shining forth in youth is lovely because consonant to the
true virtue which lies deep in the soul. But the simple beauty of
colour arises, when light, which is something incorporeal, and
reason and form entering the obscure involutions of matter,
irradiates and forms its dark and formless nature. It is on this
account that fire surpasses other bodies in beauty, because,
compared with the other elements, it obtains the order of form; for it
is more eminent than the rest, and is the most subtle of all, bordering,
as it were, on an incorporeal nature. And too, that though
impervious itself it is intimately received by others, for it imparts
heat, but admits no cold. Hence it is the first nature which is
ornamented with colour, and is the source of it to others; and on this
account it beams forth exalted like some immaterial form. But when
it cannot vanquish its subject, as participating but a slender light, it
is no longer beautiful, because it does not receive the whole form of
colour. Again, the music of the voice rouses the harmony latent in
the soul, and opens her eye to the perception of beauty, existing in
many the same. But it is the property of the harmony perceived by
sense, to be measured by numbers, yet not in every proportion of
number or voice; but in that alone which is obedient to the
production, and conquest of its species. And this much for the
beauties of sense, which, like images and shadows flowing into
matter, adorn with spectacles of beauty its formless being, and strike
the respective senses with wonder and delight.
But it is now time, leaving every object of sense far behind, to
contemplate, by a certain ascent, a beauty of a much higher order; a
beauty not visible to the corporeal eye, but alone manifest to the
brighter eye of the soul, independent of all corporeal aid. However,
since, without some previous perception of beauty it is impossible to
express by words the beauties of sense, but we must remain in the
state of the blind, so neither can we ever speak of the beauty of
offices and sciences, and whatever is allied to these, if deprived of
their intimate possession. Thus we shall never be able to tell of
virtue's brightness, unless by looking inward we perceive the fair
countenance of justice and temperance, and are convinced that
neither the evening nor morning star are half so beautiful and bright.
But it is requisite to perceive objects of this kind by that eye by
which the soul beholds such real beauties. Besides it is necessary
that whoever perceives this species of beauty, should be seized with
much greater delight, and more vehement admiration, than any
corporeal beauty can excite; as now embracing beauty real and
substantial. Such affections, I say, ought to be excited about true
beauty, as admiration and sweet astonishment; desire also and love
and a pleasant trepidation. For all souls, as I may say, are affected in
this manner about invisible objects, but those the most who have the
strongest propensity to their love; as it likewise happens about
corporeal beauty; for all equally perceive beautiful corporeal forms,
yet all are not equally excited, but lovers in the greatest degree.
But it may be allowable to interrogate those, who rise above sense,
concerning the effects of love in this manner; of such we enquire,
what do you suffer respecting fair studies, and beautiful manners,
virtuous works, affections, and habits, and the beauty of souls? What
do you experience on perceiving yourselves lovely within? After
what manner are you roused as it were to a Bacchalian fury; striving
to converse with yourselves, and collecting yourselves separate from
the impediments of body? For thus are true lovers enraptured. But
what is the cause of these wonderful effects. It is neither figure, nor
colour, nor magnitude; but soul herself, fair through temperance,
and not with the false gloss of colour, and bright with the splendours
of virtue herself. And this you experience as often as you turn your
eye inwards; or contemplate the amplitude of another soul; the just
manners, the pure temperance; fortitude venerable by her noble
countenance; and modesty and honesty walking with an intrepid step,
and a tranquil and steady aspect; and what crowns the beauty of
them all, constantly receiving the irradiations of a divine intellect.
In what respect then, shall we call these beautiful? For they are such
as they appear, nor did ever anyone behold them, and not pronounce
them realities. But as yet reason desires to know how they cause the
loveliness of the soul; and what that grace is in every virtue which
beams forth to view like light? Are you then willing we should
assume the contrary part, and consider what in the soul appears
deformed? for perhaps it will facilitate our search, if we can thus
find what is base in the soul, and from whence it derives its original.
Let us suppose a soul deformed, to be one intemperate and unjust,
filled with a multitude of desires, a prey to foolish hopes and vexed
with idle fears; through its diminutive and avaricious nature the
subject of envy; employed solely in thought of what is immoral and
low, bound in the fetters of impure delights, living the life, whatever
it may be, peculiar to the passion of body; and so totally merged in
sensuality as to esteem the base pleasant, and the deformed beautiful
and fair. But may we not say, that this baseness approaches the soul
as an adventitious evil, under the pretext of adventitious beauty;
which, with great detriment, renders it impure, and pollutes it with
much depravity; so that it neither possesses true life, nor true sense,
but is endued with a slender life through its mixture of evil, and this
worn out by the continual depredations of death; no longer
perceiving the objects of mental vision, nor permitted any more to
dwell with itself, because ever hurried away to things obscure,
external and low? Hence, becoming impure, and being on all sides
snatched in the unceasing whirl of sensible forms, it is covered with
corporeal stains, and wholly given to matter, contracts deeply its
nature, loses all its original splendour, and almost changes its own
species into that of another; just as the pristine beauty of the most
lovely form would be destroyed by its total immersion in mire and
clay. But the deformity of the first arises from inward filth, of its
own contracting; of the second, from the accession of some foreign
nature. If such a one then desires to recover his former beauty, it is
necessary to cleanse the infected parts, and thus by a thorough
purgation to resume his original form. Hence, then if we assert that
the soul, by her mixture, confusion and commerce with body and
matter, becomes thus base, our assertion will, I think, be right. For
the baseness of the soul consists in not being pure and sincere. And
as the gold is deformed by the adherence of earthly clods, which are
no sooner removed than on a sudden the gold shines forth with its
native purity; and then becomes beautiful when separated from
natures foreign from its own, and when it is content with its own
purity for the possession of beauty; so the soul, when separated from
the sordid desires engendered by its too great immersion in body,
and liberated from the dominion of every perturbation, can thus and
thus only, blot out the base stains imbibed from its union with body;
and thus becoming alone, will doubtless expel all the turpitude
contracted from a nature so opposite to its own.
Indeed, as the ancient oracle declares, temperance and fortitude,
prudence and every virtue, are certain purgatives of the soul; and
hence the sacred mysteries prophesy obscurely, yet with truth, that
the soul not purified lies in Tartarus, immersed in filth. Since the
impure is, from his depravity, the friend of filth, as swine, from their
sordid body, delight in mire alone.
For what else is true temperance than not to indulge in corporeal
delights, but to fly from their connection, as things which are neither
pure, nor the offspring of purity? And true fortitude is not to fear
death; for death is nothing more than a certain separation of soul
from body, and this he will not fear, who desires to be alone. Again,
magnanimity is the contempt of every mortal concern; it is the wing
by which we fly into the regions of intellect. And lastly, prudence is
no other than intelligence, declining subordinate objects; and
directing the eye of the soul to that which is immortal and divine.
The soul, thus defined, becomes form and reason, is altogether
incorporeal and intellectual, and wholly participates of that divine
nature, which is the fountain of loveliness, and of whatever is allied
to the beautiful and fair. Hence the soul reduced to intellect becomes
astonishingly beautiful; for as the lambent flame which appears
detached from the burning wood, enlightens its dark and smoky
parts, so intellect irradiates and adorns the inferior powers of the
soul, which, without its aid, would be buried in the gloom of
formless matter. But intellect, and whatever emanates from intellect,
is not the foreign, but the proper ornament of the soul, for the being
of the soul, when absorbed in intellect, is then alone real and true. It
is, therefore, rightly said, that the beauty and good of the soul
consists in her similitude to the Deity_;_ for from hence flows all
her beauty, and her allotment of a better being. But the beautiful
itself is that which is called beings; and turpitude is of a different
nature and participates more of non-entity than being.
But, perhaps, the good and the beautiful are the same, and must be
investigated by one and the same process; and in like manner the
base and the evil. And in the first rank we must place the beautiful,
and consider it as the same with the good; from which immediately
emanates intellect as beautiful. Next to this, we must consider the
soul receiving its beauty from intellect, and every inferior beauty
deriving its origin from the forming power of the soul, whether
conversant in fair actions and offices, or sciences and arts. Lastly,
bodies themselves participate of beauty from the soul, which, as
something divine, and a portion of the beautiful itself, renders
whatever it supervenes and subdues, beautiful as far as its natural
capacity will admit.
Let us, therefore, re-ascend to the good itself, which every soul
desires; and in which it can alone find perfect repose. For if anyone
shall become acquainted with this source of beauty he will then
know what I say, and after what manner he is beautiful. Indeed,
whatever is desirable is a kind of good, since to this desire tends.
But they alone pursue true good, who rise to intelligible beauty, and
so far only tend to good itself; as far as they lay aside the deformed
vestments of matter, with which they become connected in their
descent. Just as those who penetrate into the holy retreats of sacred
mysteries, are first purified and then divest themselves of their
garments, until someone by such a process, having dismissed
everything foreign from the God, by himself alone, beholds the
solitary principle of the universe, sincere, simple and pure, from
which all things depend, and to whose transcendent perfections the
eyes of all intelligent natures are directed, as the proper cause of
being, life and intelligence. With what ardent love, with what strong
desire will he who enjoys this transporting vision be inflamed while
vehemently affecting to become one with this supreme beauty! For
this it is ordained, that he who does not yet perceive him, yet desires
him as good, but he who enjoys the vision is enraptured with his
beauty, and is equally filled with admiration and delight. Hence,
such a one is agitated with a salutary astonishment; is affected with
the highest and truest love; derides vehement affections and inferior
loves, and despises the beauty which he once approved. Such, too, is
the condition of those who, on perceiving the forms of gods or
daemons, no longer esteem the fairest of corporeal forms. What,
then, must be the condition of that being, who beholds the beautiful
itself?
In itself perfectly pure[7], not confined by any corporeal bond,
neither existing in the heavens, nor in the earth, nor to be imaged by
the most lovely form imagination can conceive; since these are all
adventitious and mixed, and mere secondary beauties, proceeding
from the beautiful itself. If, then, anyone should ever behold that
which is the source of munificence to others, remaining in itself,
while it communicates to all, and receiving nothing, because
possessing an inexhaustible fulness; and should so abide in the
intuition, as to become similar to his nature, what more of beauty
can such a one desire? For such beauty, since it is supreme in
dignity and excellence, cannot fail of rendering its votaries lovely
and fair. Add too, that since the object of contest to souls is the
highest beauty, we should strive for its acquisition with unabated
ardour, lest we should be deserted of that blissful contemplation,
which, whoever pursues in the right way, becomes blessed from the
happy vision; and which he who does not obtain is unavoidably
unhappy. For the miserable man is not he who neglects to pursue
fair colours, and beautiful corporeal forms; who is deprived of
power, and falls from dominion and empire but he alone who is
destitute of this divine possession, for which the ample dominion of
the earth and sea and the still more extended empire of the heavens,
must be relinquished and forgot, if, despising and leaving these far
behind, we ever intend to arrive at substantial felicity, by beholding
the beautiful itself.
What measures, then, shall we adopt? What machine employ, or
what reason consult by means of which we may contemplate this
ineffable beauty; a beauty abiding in the most divine sanctuary
without ever proceeding from its sacred retreats lest it should be
beheld by the profane and vulgar eye? We must enter deep into
ourselves, and, leaving behind the objects of corporeal sight, no
longer look back after any of the accustomed spectacles of sense.
For, it is necessary that whoever beholds this beauty, should
withdraw his view from the fairest corporeal forms; and, convinced
that these are nothing more than images, vestiges and shadows of
beauty, should eagerly soar to the fair original from which they are
derived. For he who rushes to these lower beauties, as if grasping
realities, when they are only like beautiful images appearing in
water, will, doubtless, like him in the fable, by stretching after the
shadow, sink into the lake and disappear. For, by thus embracing
and adhering to corporeal forms, he is precipitated, not so much in
his body as in his soul, into profound and horrid darkness; and thus
blind, like those in the infernal regions, converses only with
phantoms, deprived of the perception of what is real and true. It is
here, then, we may more truly exclaim, "Let us depart from hence,
and fly to our father's delightful land".[8] But, by what leading stars
shall we direct our flight, and by what means avoid the magic power
of Circe, and the detaining charms of Calypso?[9] For thus the fable
of Ulysses obscurely signifies, which feigns him abiding an
unwilling exile, though pleasant spectacles were continually
presented to his sight; and everything was promised to invite his stay
which can delight the senses, and captivate the heart. But our true
country, like that of Ulysses, is from whence we came, and where
our father lives. But where is the ship to be found by which we can
accomplish our flight? For our feet are unequal to the task since they
only take us from one part of the earth to another. May we not each
of us say,
"What ships have I, what sailors to convey,
What oars to cut the long laborious way".[10]
But it is in vain that we prepare horses to draw our ships to transport
us to our native land. On the contrary, neglecting all these, as
unequal to the task, and excluding them entirely from our view,
having now closed the corporeal eye,[11] we must stir up and
assume a purer eye within, which all men possess, but which is
alone used by a few. What is it, then, this inward eye beholds?
Indeed, suddenly raised to intellectual vision, it cannot perceive an
object exceeding bright. The soul must therefore be first accustomed
to contemplate fair studies and then beautiful works, not such as
arise from the operations of art, but such as are the offspring of
worthy men; and next to this it is necessary to view the soul, which
is the parent of this lovely race. But you will ask, after what manner
is this beauty of a worthy soul to be perceived? It is thus. Recall
your thoughts inward, and if while contemplating yourself, you do
not perceive yourself beautiful, imitate the statuary; who when he
desires a beautiful statue cuts away what is superfluous, smooths
and polishes what is rough, and never desists until he has given it all
the beauty his art is able to effect. In this manner must you proceed,
by lopping what is luxuriant, directing what is oblique, and, by
purgation, illustrating what is obscure, and thus continue to polish
and beautify your statue until the divine splendour of Virtue shines
upon you, and Temperance seated in pure and holy majesty rises to
your view. If you become thus purified residing in yourself, and
having nothing any longer to impede this unity of mind, and no
farther mixture to be found within, but perceiving your whole self to
be a true light, and light alone; a light which though immense is not
measured by any magnitude, nor limited by any circumscribing
figure, but is everywhere immeasurable, as being greater than every
measure, and more excellent than every quantity; if, perceiving
yourself thus improved, and trusting solely to yourself, as no longer
requiring a guide, fix now steadfastly your mental view, for with the
intellectual eye alone can such immense beauty be perceived. But if
your eye is yet infected with any sordid concern, and not thoroughly
refined, while it is on the stretch to behold this most shining
spectacle, it will be immediately darkened and incapable of intuition,
though someone should declare the spectacle present, which it might
be otherwise able to discern. For, it is here necessary that the
perceiver and the thing perceived should be similar to each other
before true vision can exist. Thus the sensitive eye can never be able
to survey, the orb of the sun, unless strongly endued with solar fire,
and participating largely off the vivid ray. Everyone therefore must
become divine, and of godlike beauty, before he can gaze upon a
god and the beautiful itself. Thus proceeding in the right way of
beauty he will first ascend into the region of intellect, contemplating
every fair species, the beauty of which he will perceive to be no
other than ideas themselves; for all things are beautiful by the
supervening irradiations of these, because they are the offspring and
essence of intellect. But that which is superior to these is no other
than the fountain of good, everywhere widely diffusing around the
streams of beauty, and hence in discourse called the beautiful itself
because beauty is its immediate offspring. But if you accurately
distinguish the intelligible objects you will call the beautiful the
receptacle of ideas; but the good itself, which is superior, the
fountain and principle of the beautiful; or, you may place the first
beautiful and the good in the same principle, independent of the
beauty which there subsists.[12]