Enneads

We have thus succeeded in establishing the most important point of the discussion, namely, that all souls proceed from a single Soul, that from being one they become manifold, as is the case with the intelligences, divided in the same way, and similarly undivided. The Soul that dwells in the intelligible world is the one and indivisible reason (born) of intelligence, and from this Soul proceed the particular immaterial "reasons," in the same manner as on high (the individual intelligences proceed from the one and absolute Intelligence). WHY SHOULD CREATION BE PREDICATED OF THE UNIVERSAL SOUL AND NOT OF THE HUMAN?

If there be similarity between the universal Soul and the individual souls, how does it happen that the former created the world, while the others did not do so, though each of them also contain all things within herself, and since we have already shown that the productive power can exist simultaneously in several beings? By explaining its "reason" we can thus examine and discover how the same nature ("being") can act or experience, or act and experience, in a different manner in different beings. THE WORLD-SOUL ALONE CREATES BECAUSE SHE REMAINS NEAREST THE INTELLIGIBLE WORLD.

How and why did the universal Soul make the universe, while the individual souls only manage a part thereof? That is not more surprising than to see, among men who possess the same knowledge, some command a greater number, and others a lesser. This is the case because there is a great difference between souls. Some, instead of separating from the universal Soul, have remained in the intelligible world, and still contain the body (of the universal), while others, when the body (of the universe) already existed, and while the universal Soul, their sister, governed it, accepted destinies assigned them by fate, as if (the universal Soul) had prepared for them dwellings to receive them. Besides, the universal Soul contemplates universal Intelligence, and the individual souls rather contemplate individual intelligences. These souls might indeed possibly have also been capable of making the universe; but that is no longer possible to them now that the universal Soul has already done it, and has preceded them. Besides, the very same question would have arisen even if an entirely different soul had first made the universe. Perhaps it is better to state that if the universal Soul has created the universe, it is chiefly because she is more closely related to intelligible entities, for the souls that are nearest thereto are the most powerful. Maintaining themselves in this quiet region, they act with greater facility; for to act without suffering is the sign of a greater power. Thus the power depending on the intelligible world abides within itself, and by abiding within itself, produces. The other souls, descending towards the body, withdraw from the intelligible world, and fall into the abyss (of matter). Perhaps also the element of manifoldness within them, finding itself drawn towards the lower regions, along with it dragged the conceptions of those souls, and made them descend hither. Indeed the distinction of the second or third rank for souls must be understood in this sense that some are nearer, and some further from the intelligible world. Likewise, among us, all souls are not equally disposed in regard to this world. Some succeed in uniting with it, others approach it by their aspirations; others do not quite succeed, because they do not all use the same faculties, and some use the first, others the second, and some the third, though they all equally possess all faculties.

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN INDIVIDUAL AND UNIVERSAL SOULS.

That is what seems true to us. As to the Philebus passage (quoted in the first section), it might mean that all souls were parts of the universal Soul. That, however, is not its true meaning, as held by some. It only means what Plato desired to assert in this place, namely, that heaven is animate. Plato proves this by saying that it would be absurd to insist that heaven has no soul, when our body, which is only a part of the body of the universe, nevertheless has a soul; but how could a part be animate, unless the whole was so also? It is especially in the Timaeus that Plato clearly expresses his thought. After having described the birth of the universal Soul, he shows the other souls born later from the mixture made in the same vase from which the universal Soul was drawn. He asserts that they are similar to the universal Soul, and that their difference consists in that they occupy the second or third rank. That is further confirmed by this passage of the Phaedrus: "The universal Soul cares for what is inanimate." Outside of the Soul, indeed, what power would manage, fashion, ordain and produce the body? It would be nonsense to attribute this power to one soul, and not to another. (Plato) adds (in substance): "The Perfect Soul, the Soul of the universe, hovering in the ethereal region, acts on the earth without entering into it, being borne above him as in a chariot. The other souls that are perfect share with it the administration of the world." When Plato speaks of the soul as having lost her wings, he is evidently distinguishing individual souls from the universal Soul. One might also conclude that our souls are part of the universal Soul from his statement that the souls follow the circular movement of the universe, that from it they derive their characteristics, and that they undergo its influence. Indeed, they might very easily undergo the influence exercised by the nature of the special localities, of the waters and the air of the towns they inhabit, and the temperament of the bodies to which they are joined. We have indeed acknowledged that, being contained in the universe, we possess something of the life-characteristic of the universal Soul, and that we undergo the influence of the circular movement of the heavens. But we have also shown that there is within us another (rational) soul, which is capable of resistance to these influences, and which manifests its different character precisely by the resistance she offers them. The objection that we are begotten within the universe may be answered by the fact that the child is likewise begotten within its mother's womb, and that nevertheless the soul that enters into its body is distinct from that of its mother. Such is our solution of the problem.

SYMPATHY BETWEEN INDIVIDUAL AND UNIVERSAL SOUL COMES FROM COMMON SOURCE.

The sympathy existing between souls forms no objection. For this sympathy might be explained by the fact that all souls are derived from the same principle from which the universal Soul also is derived. We have already shown that there is one Soul (the universal) and several souls (human souls); and we have also defined the difference between the parts and the whole. Last, we have also spoken of the difference existing between souls. Let us now return to the latter point. DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SOULS.

This difference between souls is caused principally by the constitution of the bodies they animate; also by the moral habits, the activities, the thoughts and behavior of these souls in earlier existence. According to Plato the choice of the souls' condition depends on their anterior existence. On observing the nature of souls in general, we find that Plato recognizes differences between them by saying that some souls occupy the second or third ranks. Now we have said that all souls are (potentially) all things, that each is characterized by the faculty principally exercised thereby, that is, that some souls unite with the intelligible world by actualization, while others do so in thought or desire. Souls, thus contemplating different objects, are and become all that they contemplate. Fulness and perfection also belong to soul, but in this respect they are not all identical, because variety is the law that directs their co-ordination. Indeed, the universal reason is on the one hand manifold, and on the other varied, like a being that is animate, and which possesses manifold forms. In this case, there is co-ordination; beings are not entirely separated from each other, and there is no place for chance either in real beings, nor in bodies; consequently the number of beings is definite. To be individual, beings must first be stable, then they must remain identical, and last, they must numerically be one in order to achieve individuality. Bodies which by nature perpetually ooze away, because for them form is something incidental, never possess formal existence but by their participation in (and imitation of), genuine "Beings." On the contrary, for the latter, that are not composite, existence consists in each of them being numerically single, in possessing this unity which dates from the beginning, which does not become what it was not, and which will never cease being what it is. If indeed they cannot exist without some producing principle, that principle will not derive them from matter. It will have to add to them something from its own being. But if intelligible entities thus have at times more, and at times less, perfection, they will change; which would contradict their (nature, or) "being," which is to remain identical. Why indeed should they become such as they are now, and why should they not always have been such as they now are? Further, if they be at times more or less perfect, if they "become," they are not eternal. But it is granted that the Soul (as an intelligible being) is eternal.

LIKE THE DIVINITY, THE SOUL IS ALWAYS ONE. (It might still be asked) whether what is stable can be called infinite? That which is stable is potentially infinite, because its power is infinite without being also infinitely divided; for the divinity too is infinite. Thus each soul is what the divinity's nature is, without receiving from any other either limit or determinate quantity. The soul extends as far as she wishes. She is never forced to go further, but everywhere she descends towards bodies and penetrates into them, according to her nature. Besides, she never separates from herself, though present in finger or in foot. Not otherwise is it with the universe: wherever the Soul penetrates, she ever remains indivisible, as when she penetrates into the different parts of a plant. Then, if you cut a certain part, the principle which communicates life to it remains present both in the plant and in the part detached therefrom. The body of the universe is single, and the Soul is everywhere in her unity. SOUL POWERS REMAIN THE SAME THROUGHOUT ALL CHANGES OF BODY.

When numberless vermin arise out of the putrefaction of a body, they do not derive their life from the soul of the entire animal; the latter has abandoned the body of the animal, and, being dead, no longer dwells in the body. But the matter derived from putrefaction, being well suited for the generation of vermin, each receives a different soul, because the (universal) Soul is not lacking anywhere. Nevertheless, as one part of the body is capable of receiving her, while another is not, the parts that thus become animated do not increase the number of souls; for each of these little beings depends, as far as she remains one, on the single Soul (that is, on the universal Soul). This state of affairs resembles that in us. When some parts of our bodies are cut off, and when others grow in their place, our soul abandons the former, and unites with the latter, in so far as she remains one. Now the Soul of the universe ever remains one; and though amidst things contained within this universe, some are animate, while others are inanimate, the soul-powers nevertheless remain the same. B. WHY AND HOW DO SOULS DESCEND INTO BODIES? TWO KINDS OF TRANSMIGRATION.

Let us now examine how it happens that the soul descends into the body, and in what manner this occurs; for it is sufficiently astonishing and remarkable. For a soul, there are two kinds of entrance into a body. The first occurs when the soul, already dwelling in a body, undergoes a transmigration; that is, passes from an aerial or igneous body into a terrestrial body. This is not usually called a transmigration, because the condition from which the soul comes is not visible. The other kind occurs when the soul passes from an incorporeal condition into any kind of a body, and thus for the first time enters into relations with a body. STUDY OF FIRST INCARNATION.

We must here examine what, in the latter case, is experienced by the soul which, till then pure from all dealings with the body, for the first time surrounds herself with that kind of a substance. Besides, it is not only just but even necessary for us to begin by a consideration of (this event in) the universal Soul. To say that the Soul enters the body of the universe and comes to animate it, is no more than a statement made to clarify our thoughts; for the succession in her actions thus established is purely verbal. There never was a moment when the universe was not animated, when its body existed without the Soul, or when matter existed without form. But these things can be separated in thought and speech, since as soon as an object is formed, it is always possible to analyse it by thought and speech. That is the truth. HOW THE UNIVERSE IS ANIMATED BY THE WORLD SOUL.

If there were no body, the soul could not have any procession, since the body is the natural locality of her development. As the soul must extend, she will beget a receiving locality, and will, consequently, produce the body. The soul's rest is based, and depends for growth on (the intellectual category of) rest itself. The soul thus resembles an immense light which weakens as it becomes more distant from its source, so that at the extremity of its radiation, it has become no more than an adumbration. However, the soul evidently gave a form to this adumbration from the very beginning of things. It was, indeed, by no means suitable that what approached the soul should in no way participate in reason; consequently there came to be an adumbration of reason in (matter), this adumbration being the soul. The universe thus became a beautiful and varied dwelling, which was not deprived of the presence of the universal Soul by her not totally incorporating within it. She judged that the whole universe was worthy of her care, and she thus gave it as much "being" and beauty as it was able to receive, without herself losing any of it, because she manages the world while herself remaining above it in the intelligible sphere. By so animating it, she thus grants it her presence, without becoming its property; she dominates it, and possesses it, without being, thereby, dominated or possessed. The universe, indeed, is in the containing Soul, and participates therein entirely. (The universe is in the Soul as is) a net in the sea, on all sides penetrated and enveloped by life, without ever being able to appropriate it. So far as it can, this net extends along with the sea, for none of its parts could be elsewhere than it is. By nature the universal Soul is immense, because her magnitude is not definite; so that by one and the same power she embraces the entire body of the world, and is present throughout the whole extension. Without it, the world-Soul would make no effort to proceed into extension, for by herself she is all that it is her nature to be. The magnitude of the universe therefore is determined by that of the location of the Soul; and the limits of its extent are those of the space within which it is animated by her. The extension of the adumbration of the Soul is therefore determined by that of the "reason" which radiates from this focus of light; and on the other hand, this "reason" was to produce such an extension as its nature urged it to produce.

THE WORLD-SOUL PROGRESSIVELY INFORMS ALL THINGS.

Now let us return to that which has always been what it is. Let us, in thought, embrace all beings: air, light, sun, and moon. Let us then consider the sun, the light, and so forth, as being all things, without ever forgetting that there are things that occupy the first rank, others the second, or the third. Let us, at the summit of this series of beings, conceive of the universal Soul as subsisting eternally. Let us then posit that which holds the first rank after her, and thus continue till we arrive at the things that occupy the last rank, and which, as it were, are the last glimmerings of the light shed by the soul. Let us represent these things as an extension first dark, and then later illuminated by the form which comes to impress itself on an originally dark background. This background is embellished by reason in virtue of the entire universal Soul's independent power of embellishing matter by means of reasons, just as the "seminal reasons" themselves fashion and form animals as microcosms. According to its nature, the Soul gives a form to everything she touches. She produces without casual conception, without the delays of deliberation, or of those of voluntary determination. Otherwise, she would not be acting according to her nature, but according to the precepts of a borrowed art. Art, indeed, is posterior to nature. Art imitates by producing obscure and feeble

imitations of nature's works, toys without value or merit; and besides, art makes use of a great battery of apparatus to produce these images. On the contrary, the universal Soul, dominating bodies by virtue of her nature ("being") makes them become and be what she desires; for the things themselves that exist since the beginning cannot raise resistance to her will. In inferior things, as the result of mutual obstruction, matter does not receive the exact form that the ("seminal) reason" contains in germ. But as the universal Soul produces the universal form, and as all things are therein co-ordinated, the work is beautiful because it is realized without trouble or obstacle. In the universe there are temples for the divinities, houses for men, and other objects adapted to the needs of other beings. What indeed could the Soul create if not what she has the power to create? As fire warms, as snow cools, the soul acts now within herself, and then outside of herself, and on other objects. The action which inanimate beings elicit from themselves slumbers, as it were, within them; and that which they exert on others consists in assimilating to themselves that which is capable of an experience. To render the rest similar to itself, is indeed the common characteristic of every being. The soul's power of acting on herself and on others is a vigilant faculty. It communicates life to beings who do not

have it in themselves, and the life communicated to them is similar to the life of the soul herself. Now as the soul lives in reason, she imparts a reason to the body, which reason is an image of the one she herself possesses. Indeed, what she communicates to the bodies is an image of life. She also imparts to them the shapes whose reasons she contains. Now as she possesses the reasons of all things, even of the divinities, the world contains all things.

THE UNIVERSAL SOUL AS MODEL OF REASON, AS INTERMEDIARY AND INTERPRETER.

The ancient sages, who wished to materialize the divinities by making statues of them, seem to me to have well judged the nature of the universe. They understood that the being of the universal Soul was easy to attract anywhere, that her presence can easily be summoned in everything suited to receive her action, and thus to participate somewhat in her power. Now anything is suited to undergo the action of the soul when it lends itself like a mirror to the reflection of any kind of an image. In the universe nature most artistically forms all beings in the image of the reasons it contains. In each of (nature's) works the ("seminal) reason" that is united to matter, being the image of the reason superior to the matter (of the idea), reattaches itself to divinity (to Intelligence), according to which it was begotten, and which the universal Soul contemplated while creating. It was therefore equally impossible that there should be here below anything which did not participate in the divinity, and which the latter brought down here below; for (the divinity) is Intelligence, the sun that shines there on high. Let us consider (the universal Soul) as the model of reason. Below the Intelligence is the Soul, which depends on it, which subsists by and with it. The Soul holds to this sun (of Intelligence); the Soul is the intermediary by which the beings here below are reattached to intelligible beings; she is the interpreter of things which descend from the intelligible world into the sense-world, and of the things of the sense-world which return into the intelligible world. Indeed, intelligible things are not separated from each other; they are distinguished only by their difference and their constitution. Each of them remains within itself, without any relation to locality; they are simultaneously united and separate. The beings that we call divinities deserve to be considered such because they never swerve from intelligible entities, because they depend on the universal Soul considered in her principle, at the very moment of the Soul's issuing from Intelligence. Thus these beings are divinities by virtue of the very principle to which they owe their existence, and because they devote themselves to the contemplation of Intelligence, from which the universal Soul herself does not distract her gaze.

SOULS ARE NOT CUT OFF FROM INTELLIGENCE DURING THEIR DESCENT AND ASCENT.

Human souls rush down here below because they have gazed at their images (in matter) as in the mirror of Bacchus. Nevertheless, they are not separated from their principle, Intelligence. Their intelligence does not descend along with them, so that even if by their feet they touch the earth, their head rises above the sky. They descend all the lower as the body, over which their intermediary part is to watch, has more need of care. But their father Jupiter, pitying their troubles, made their bonds mortal. At certain intervals, he grants them rest, delivering them from the body, so that they may return to inhabit the region where the universal Soul ever dwells, without inclining towards things here below. Indeed what the universe at present possesses suffices it both now and in the future, since its duration is regulated by eternal and immutable reasons, and because, when one period is finished, it again begins to run through another where all the lives are determined in accordance with the ideas. In that way all things here below are subjected to intelligible things, and similarly all is subordinated to a single reason, either in the descent or in the ascension of souls, or in their activities in general. This is proved by the agreement between the universal order and the movements of the souls which by descending here below, conform to this order without depending on it; and perfectly harmonize with the circular movement of heaven. Thus the actions, fortunes and destinies ever are prefigured in the figures formed by the stars. That is the symphony whose sound is so melodious that the ancients expressed it symbolically by musical harmony. Now this could not be the case unless all the actions and experiences of the universe were (well) regulated by reasons which determine its periods, the ranks of souls, their existences, the careers that they accomplish in the intelligible world, or in heaven, or on the earth. The universal Intelligence ever remains above the heaven, and dwelling there entirely, without ever issuing from itself; it radiates into the sense-world by the intermediation of the Soul which, placed beside it, receives the impression of the idea, and transmits it to inferior things, now immutably, and then changeably, but nevertheless in a regulated manner.

WHY SOULS TAKE ON DIFFERENT KINDS OF BODIES. Souls do not always descend equally; they descend sometimes lower, sometimes less low, but always in the same kind of beings (among living beings). Each soul enters into the body prepared to receive her, which corresponds to the nature to which the soul has become assimilated by its disposition; for, according as the soul has become similar to the nature of a man or of a brute, she enters into a corresponding body. HOW SOULS COME TO DESCEND.

What is called inevitable necessity and divine justice consists in the sway of nature which causes each soul to proceed in an orderly manner into the bodily image which has become the object of her affection, and of her predominating disposition. Consequently the soul, by her form, entirely approaches the object towards which her interior disposition bears her. Thus she is led and introduced where she is to go; not that she is forced to descend at any particular moment into any particular body; but, at a fixed moment, she descends as it were spontaneously where she ought to enter. Each (soul) has her own hour. When this hour arrives, the soul descends as if a herald was calling her, and she penetrates into the body prepared to receive her, as if she had been mastered and set in motion by forces and powerful attractions exerted by magic. Similarly in an animal, nature administers all the organs, solves or begets everything in its own time, grows the beard or the horns, gives special inclinations and powers to the being, whenever they become necessary. Similarly, in plants, (nature) produces flowers or fruits at the proper season. The descent of souls into the bodies is neither voluntary nor forced; it is not voluntary, since it is not chosen or consented to by souls. It is not compulsory, in the sense that the latter obey only a natural impulsion, just as one might be led to marriage, or to the accomplishment of various honest actions, rather by instinct than by reasoning. Nevertheless, there is always something fatal for each soul. One accomplishes her destiny at some one moment; the other soul at some other moment. Likewise, the intelligence that is superior to the world also has something fatal in its existence, since itself has its own destiny, which is to dwell in the intelligible world, and to make its light radiate therefrom. Thus individuals come here below by virtue of the common law to which they are subjected. Each one, indeed, bears within himself this common law, a law which does not derive its power from outside, but which depends on the nature of those who are subject to it, because it is innate in them. Consequently all voluntarily carry out its decrees at the predestined time, because this law impels them to their goal; and because, deriving its force from those whom it commands, it presses and stimulates them and inspires them with the desire to go whither their interior vocation calls them.

BY A PUN ON "WORLD" AND "ADORNMENT," PLOTINOS SHOWS MEN ADD TO THE BEAUTY OF THE WORLD.

That is how this world, which already contains many lights, and which is illuminated by souls, finds itself still further adorned by the various beauties derived from different beings. It receives beauties from the intelligible divinities and from the other intelligences which furnish it with souls. This is probably the allegorical intent of the following myth. BY A PUN ON "PROMETHEUS" AND "PROVIDENCE," PLOTINOS EMPLOYS THE MYTH OF PANDORA.

(Following both Hesiod and the Gnostics, Plotinos relates that) a woman was formed by Prometheus, and adorned by the other divinities. This piece of clay, after having been kneaded with water, was endowed with a human voice, and received a form similar to the deities. Then Venus, the Graces and the other deities each gave her a gift. That is why this woman was called Pandora, because (as her name implies, in Greek) she had received gifts, which had been given by all the divinities. All, in fact, made some present to this piece of clay already fashioned by some kind of providence ("Prometheia," or "Prometheus"). When Epimetheus rejects the gift of Prometheus, it only indicates that it is better to live in the intelligible world. The creator of Pandora, however, is bound because he seems attached to his work. But this bond is entirely exterior, and it is broken by Hercules, because the latter possesses a liberating power. Whatever other interpretation the myth of Pandora may receive, it must still signify gifts received by the world, and its import must agree with our teaching. WHY MANY SOULS SUCCUMB TO THE LAW OF THE ORDER OF THE UNIVERSE.

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

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF MISFORTUNES AND PUNISHMENTS.

The punishments which justly overtake the evil must therefore be derived from that Order which rules all things with propriety. The unjust evils, accidents, misery and diseases which seem to overwhelm the good, may all be said to be consequences of anterior faults. These evils are intimately related to the course of events, and are even represented therein by their signs, so that they seem to happen according to the Reason (of the universe). We must however acknowledge that they are not produced by natural "reasons," that they are not within the purview of Providence, and that they are only its accidental consequences. Thus when a house happens to fall, it buries anybody below it, whoever he may happen to be; or again, whether some regular movement drives on some one thing, or even several things, it breaks or crushes anything that happens to lie in its path. These accidents which seem unjust, are not evils for those who suffer them, if you consider how they take their place within the legitimate order of the universe; perhaps even they constitute just chastisements and are the expiations of earlier faults. It would be incredible that one series of beings in the universe should obey its order, while another series should be subject to chance or caprice. If everything happen through causes and natural consequences, in conformity with a single "reason," and to a single order, the smallest things must form part of that order, and agree with it. Injustice practiced against somebody else is an injustice for him who commits it, and must attract a punishment to him; but by the place which it holds in the universal order, it is not an injustice, even for him who suffers it. It had to be thus. If the victim of this injustice was an honest man, for him it can have only a happy ending. This universal order must not be accused of being undivine and unjust, but we should insist that distributive justice exercises itself with perfect propriety. If certain things seem worthy of blame, it is because they are due to secret causes that escape our knowledge.

FROM THE INTELLIGIBLE WORLD, SOULS FIRST GO INTO HEAVEN.

From the intelligible world souls first descend into the heaven. For if the heaven is the best part of the sense-world, it must be nearest to the limits of the intelligible world. The celestial bodies are therefore the first that receive the souls, being most fitted to receive them. The terrestrial body is animated the last, and it is suited to the reception of an inferior soul only, because it is more distant from the incorporeal nature. All souls first illuminate the sky, and radiate from it their first and purest rays; the remainder is lit up by inferior powers. There are souls which, descending lower, illuminate inferior things; but they do not gain anything in getting so far from their origin. THE DESCENDING GRADUATIONS OF EXISTENCE.

We must imagine a centre, and around this centre a luminous sphere that radiates from (Intelligence). Then, around this sphere, lies a second one that also is luminous, but only as a light lit from another light (the universal Soul). Then, beyond and outside of these spheres lies a further one, which no more is light, but which is illuminated only by an alien light, for lack of a light peculiar to (this world of ours). Outside of those two spheres there is indeed a rhomboid, or rather another sphere, that receives its light from the second sphere, and which receives it the more intensely, the closer it is thereto. The great light (Intelligence) sheds its light though remaining within itself, and the brilliancy that radiates around it (on to the soul) is "reason." Other souls radiate also, some by remaining united to the universal Soul, others by descending lower in order better to illuminate the bodies to which they devote their care; but these cares are troublous. As the pilot who steers his ship over the troubled waves forgets himself in the effort of his work, to the point of forgetting that he exposes himself to perish with the ship in the shipwreck, likewise souls are dragged down (into the abyss of matter) by the attention they devote to the bodies that they govern. Then they are chained to their destiny, as if fascinated by a magic attraction, but really retained by the potent bonds of nature. If every body were as perfect as the universe, it would completely suffice itself, it would have no danger to fear, and the soul that is present within it, instead of this, could communicate life to it without leaving the intelligible world.

C. DOES THE SOUL EMPLOY DISCURSIVE REASON WHILE DISCARNATE? THE SOUL DOES NOT USE DISCURSIVE REASON EXCEPT WHILE HINDERED BY THE OBSTACLES OF THE BODY.

Does the soul ratiocinate before entering upon the body, and after having left it? No: she reasons only while in a body, because she is uncertain, embarrassed and weakened. To need to reason in order to arrive at complete knowledge always betrays weakening of intellect. In the arts reasoning occurs only when the artist hesitates before some obstacle. Where there is no difficulty in the matter, art masters it, and produces its work instantly. THE SOUL CAN REASON INTUITIONALLY WITHOUT RATIOCINATION.

(It might be objected) that if the souls on high do not reason, they will no longer be reasonable. They remain reasonable, however, because they are well able to penetrate into the essence of something, whenever the occasion demands it. Ratiocination should be considered as follows. If it consist in a disposition that is always derived from Intelligence, in an immanent act, a reflection of this power in souls, these must also reason in the intelligible world; but then they have no further need of language. Likewise, when they inhabit heaven, neither do they need to take recourse to speech, as do the souls here below, as a result of their needs and uncertainties. They act in an orderly manner, and in conformity with nature, without premeditation or deliberation. They know each other by a simple intuition, as even here below we know our like without their talking to us, by a mere glance. On high every body is pure and transparent. Each person there, is, as it were, an eye. Nothing is hidden or simulated. Before you have spoken, your thought is already known. It is probable that speech is used by the guardians and other living inhabitants of the air, for they are living beings. D. HOW CAN THE SOUL SIMULTANEOUSLY BE DIVISIBLE AND INDIVISIBLE? A DECISION WILL DEPEND ON THE MEANING OF THE TERMS.

Must we consider that (in the soul), the indivisible and the divisible are identical, as if they were mingled together? Or should we consider the distinction between the indivisible and the divisible from some other point of view? Should the first be considered as the higher part of the soul, and the latter as the lower, just exactly as we say that one part of the soul is rational, and the other part is irrational? Such questions can be answered only by a close scrutiny of the nature of the divisibility and indivisibility of the soul. THE BODY NEEDS THE SOUL FOR LIFE. When Plato says that the soul is indivisible, he speaks absolutely. When he insists that she is divisible, it is always relatively (to the body). He does indeed say that she becomes divisible in the bodies, but not that she has become such. Let us now examine how, by her nature, the body needs the soul to live, and what necessity there is for the soul to be present in the entire body. SENSE, GROWTH AND EMOTION TEND TOWARDS DIVISIBILITY.

By the mere fact that it feels by means of the entire body, every sense-power undergoes division. Since it is present everywhere, it may be said to be divided. But as, on the other hand, it manifests itself everywhere as a whole, it cannot really be considered as divided. We cannot go further than the statement that it becomes divisible in bodies. Some might object that it was divided only in the sense of touch. It is however also divided in the other senses, since it is always the same body that receives it, but only less so. The case is the same with the power of growth and nutrition; and if appetite have its seat in the liver, and anger in the heart, these appetites must be subject to the same conditions. Besides, it is possible that the body does not receive those appetites in a mixture, or that it receives them in some other manner, so that they result from some of the things that the body derives from the soul by participations. Reason and intelligence, however, are not communicated to the body because they stand in no need of any organs to fulfil their functions. On the contrary, they find in them only an obstacle to their operations. THE SOUL AS A WHOLE OF TWO DISTINCT DIVISIBLE AND INDIVISIBLE PARTS.

Thus the indivisible and the divisible are in the soul two distinct parts, and not two things mingled together so as to constitute but a single one. They form a single whole composed of two parts, each of which is pure and separable from the other by its characteristic power. If then the part which in the body becomes divisible receives from the superior part the power of being indivisible, this same part might simultaneously be divisible and indivisible, as a mixture of divisible nature and of the (indivisible) power received by it from the higher part. E. RELATIONS BETWEEN SOUL AND BODY. IF FUNCTIONS ARE NOT LOCALIZED THE SOUL WILL NOT SEEM ENTIRELY WITHIN US.

Are the above-mentioned and other parts of the soul localized in the body, or are some localized, and others not? This must be considered, because if none of the parts of the soul are localized, and if we assert that they are nowhere either in or out of the body, the latter will remain inanimate, and we will not be able to explain the manner of the operations occurring by help of the organs. If, on the other hand, we assign a location in the body to certain parts of the soul, without localizing other parts, the unlocalized parts will seem not to be within us, and consequently not the whole of our soul will seem to be in the body. SPACE IS CORPOREAL; THE BODY IS WITHIN THE SOUL. Of the soul neither a part nor the whole is in the body as a locality. The property of space is to contain some body. Where everything is divided it is impossible for the whole to be in every part. But the soul is not body, and the soul contains the body rather than the body contains the soul. NOR IS THE BODY A VASE, FOR PROXIMATE TRANSMISSION OF THE SOUL.

Nor is the soul in the body as in a vase. In this case, the body would be inanimate, and would contain the soul as in a vase or locality. If the soul be considered as concentrated in herself and as communicating to the body something of herself by "close transmission" (as the Stoics would say), that which the soul will transmit to this vase would for her become something lost. MANY METAPHYSICAL OBJECTIONS TO THE CONCEPTION OF SOUL AS LOCALIZED. Considering location in the strict sense of the word, it is incorporeal, and consequently cannot be a body. It would no longer need the soul. Besides (if the soul be in the body as if in a locality) the body will approach the soul by its surface, and not by itself. Many other objections can be raised to the theory that localizes the soul in the body. Under this hypothesis, indeed, place would have to be carried around along with the thing in which it will locate. But that which would carry place around with it (would be a monstrosity). Moreover, if the body be defined as being an interval, it will be still less true to say that the soul is in the body as a locality; for an interval should be empty; but the body is not empty, being within emptiness. NOR IS THE SOUL IN THE BODY AS A QUALITY IN A SUBSTRATE.

Nor will the soul be in the body as (a quality) is in a substrate. The attribute of being a substrate is a mere affection, like a color, or a figure; but the soul is separable from the body. NOR IS THE SOUL IN THE BODY AS A PART IN THE WHOLE. Nor will the soul be in the body as a part in the whole; for the soul is not a part of the body. Nor is it a part of the living whole; for this would still demand explanation of the manner of this being within it. She will not be within it as wine in a jar, or as one jar in another, nor as one thing is within itself (as the Manicheans thought). NOR IS THE SOUL IN THE BODY AS A WHOLE IN A PART. Nor will the soul be in the body as a whole is in its parts; for it would be ridiculous to call the soul a whole, and the body the parts of that whole. NOR WILL THE SOUL BE IN THE BODY AS FORM IN MATTER.

Nor will the soul be in the body as form is in matter; for the form that is engaged in matter is not separable. Moreover, that form descends upon matter implies the preliminary existence of matter; but it is the soul that produces form in matter; and therefore the soul must be distinct from form. Though the soul be not form begotten in matter, the soul might be a separable form; but this theory would still have to explain how this form inheres in the body, since the soul is separable from the body. THE SOUL IS SAID TO BE IN THE BODY BECAUSE THE BODY ALONE IS VISIBLE. All men say that the soul is in the body, however, because the soul is not visible, while the body is. Observing the body, and judging that it is animated because it moves and feels, we say that it has a soul, and we are thereby led to suppose that the soul is in the body. But if we could see and feel the soul, and if we could realize that she surrounds the whole body by the life she possesses, and that she extends around it equally on all sides till the extremities, we would say that the soul is in no way in the body, but that on the contrary the accessory is within its principle, the contained within the container, what flows within the immovable.

THIS LEAVES THE QUESTION OF THE MANNER OF THE SOUL'S PRESENCE.

How would we answer a person who, without himself making any statements in regard to the matter, should ask us how the soul is present to the body; whether the whole soul is present to the body in the same manner, or whether one of her parts is present in one way, and another in some other way? THE SOUL IN A BODY AS A PILOT IN A SHIP.

Since none of the comparisons that we have formerly examined seems to express the relation of the soul to the body, properly we might say that the soul is in the body as the pilot is in the ship. This illustration is satisfactory in that it emphasizes the soul's being separable from the body; but it does not properly indicate the presence of the soul in the body. If the soul be present in the body as a passenger in a ship, it would be there only by accident, and the illustration is not yet satisfactory if changed to the pilot's presence in the ship he is steering; for the pilot is not present to the whole of the ship as the whole soul is in the body. One might illustrate the soul's presence in the body as an art inheres in its instruments; as, for instance, in the helm, which might be supposed to be alive, containing the power of steering the ship skilfully. This is still unsatisfactory, because such an art comes from without. The soul might indeed be compared to a pilot who should be incarnated in his helm; and the soul might be in the body as in some natural instrument, so that the soul would move it at pleasure. This however might still fail to explain the manner in which the soul would exist in her instrument. Therefore, though the latter illustration is an improvement on the former, we must still seek one which closer approaches reality.

THE SOUL PRESENT IN THE BODY AS LIGHT IN AIR.

This is the better illustration: the soul is present in the body as light is present in air. Light is indeed present in air without being present to it; that is, light is present to the whole air without mingling with it, and light remains within itself while the air escapes. When the air, within which light radiates, withdraws from the light, the air keeps none of the light; but it is illuminated so long as the air remains subject to the action of light. Air, therefore, is in light, rather than light is in air. While explaining the generation of the universe, therefore, Plato properly locates the body (of the world) in the soul, and not the soul in the body. He also states that there is a part of the soul that contains the body, and another in which there is no body, in this sense, that there are soul-powers of which the body has no need. The case is similar with the other souls. Their powers in general are not present to bodies, and only those powers of which the body stands in need are present to it. These however are present to the body without being built up either on the members, or upon the body as a whole. For sensation, the faculty of feeling is entirely present to the whole organ which is feeling (as, for instance, to the whole brain); likewise for the other functions, the different faculties are each present to a different organ. I shall explain myself.

WHILE THE SOUL-POWER IS EVERYWHERE, THE PRINCIPLE OF ACTION IS LOCALIZED IN THE SPECIAL ORGAN.

Since, for the body, being animated amounts to being penetrated by the light shed by the soul, every part of the body participates therein in some particular manner. Each organ, according to its fitness, receives the power suitable to the function it fulfils. Thus we may say that the power of sight resides in the eyes; that of hearing in the ears; that of taste in the tongue; that of smell in the nose; that of touch in the whole body, since, for the latter sense, the whole body is the organ of the soul. Now as the instruments for touch are the first nerves, which also possess the power of moving the organism, as they are the seat of this power; as, besides, the nerves originate in the brain, in the brain has been localized the principle of sensation and appetite - in short, the principle of the whole organism; no doubt because it was thought that the power which uses the organs is present in that part of the body where are the origins of these organs. It would have been better to say that it is the action of the power that makes use of the organs that originates in the brain; for that part of the body from which starts the movement impressed on the organ had to serve somewhat as a foundation for the power of the workman, a power whose nature is in harmony with that of the organ (it sets in motion); or rather, this part of the body does not serve as foundation for this power, for this power is everywhere, but the principle of the action is in that part of the body in which is the very principle of that organ.

REASON IS IN THE HEAD, BUT NOT IN THE BRAIN, WHICH IS THE SEAT OF THE INTERMEDIARY, THE POWER OF SENSATION. On the other hand, as the power of sensation and the power of appetite, which belong to the sensible and imaginative soul, are beneath reason, because they are related to what is inferior, while reason is above, the result was that the ancients localized reason in the highest part of the animal, in the head; not that reason is in the brain, but because reason is seated in the sense-power, by the intermediation of which, only, reason may be said to reside in the brain. The sense-power, surely, had to be attributed to the body, and, within the body, to the organs most capable of lending themselves to its action. Reason, which has no (direct) dealing with the body, had however to be in relation with the sense-power, which is a form of the soul, and can participate in reason. The sense-power, does, to a certain extent, judge; and the power of imagination has something intellectual. Last, the appetite, and the desire somehow connect with imagination and reason. Reason, therefore, is in the head, not as in a locality, but because it is in relation with the sense-power which resides in that organ, as has been shown above. GROWTH IS LOCALIZED IN THE LIVER, ANGER IN THE HEART.

As the power of growth, nutrition, and generation operates all through the entire body; and as it is by the blood that the body is nourished; as the blood is contained in the veins; and as the veins, as well as the blood, originate in the liver; this organ has been assigned as the seat of that part of the soul called appetite; for appetite is involved in the power of begetting, of feeding and increasing the body. Further as the blood (purified by respiration) is subtle, light, mobile and pure, the heart becomes a suitable instrument for the power of anger, for the blood that possesses these qualities starts from the heart. Therefore, with good reason, the heart is assigned as the seat of the turbulent convulsions of the power of anger. F. WHERE GOES THE SOUL AFTER DEATH? THE SOUL AFTER DEATH GOES TO THE PLACE SUITED TO IT BY RETRIBUTION.

Whither will the soul pass when she shall have left the body? She will not go where there is nothing suitable to receive her. She could not pass into what is not naturally disposed to receive her, unless there be something that would attract a soul that had lost her prudence. In this case, the soul remains in whatever is capable of receiving her, and follows it whither that (receptive matter) can exist and beget. Now as there are different places, it is necessary that the difference (of the dwellings in which the souls come to dwell) should be derived from the disposition of each soul, and of justice which reigns above beings. No one indeed could escape the punishment which unjust actions deserve. The divine law is inevitable, and possesses the power of carrying out the judgments (according to its decrees). The man who is destined to undergo a punishment is, in spite of himself, dragged towards that punishment, and is driven around by a movement that never stops. Then, as if wearied of struggling against things to which he desired to offer resistance, he betakes himself to the place that is suitable to him, and thus by a voluntary movement undergoes involuntary suffering. The law prescribes the greatness and duration of the punishment. Later, as a result of the harmony that directs everything in the universe, the end of the punishment endured by the soul coincides with the soul's receiving strength to leave those places.

PURE INCORPOREAL SOULS DWELL WITHIN INTELLIGENCE IN DIVINITY. The souls that have a body thereby feel the corporeal punishments they are undergoing. Pure souls, however, that do not carry along with them anything corporeal, necessarily enjoy the privilege of abiding in the incorporeal. Being free from having to dwell in anything corporeal as they have no bodies, they reside where is being and essence, and the divine; that is, in the divinity. There, in the divinity, with the intelligible beings, dwells the pure Soul. If you wish to locate the Soul still more exactly, go to where are the intelligible entities; and if you are looking for them, do not look for them with the eyes, as if they were (physical) bodies. G. WHAT ARE THE CONDITIONS OF THE OPERATION OF MEMORY AND IMAGINATION? COSMIC QUESTIONS ABOUT MEMORY DEPEND ON EXACT DEFINITION OF WHAT MEMORY IS.

Memory raises the following questions. Does memory generally remain with the bodies that have issued from here below? Does it subsist only in some of them? In this case is memory general or special, durable or transitory? These questions cannot be answered until we define that interior principle in us to which memory belongs. That is, we shall have to determine, not what is memory, but in what kind of beings it must exist by virtue of its nature, for elsewhere we have often defined and treated of memory itself. We must therefore exactly define that principle within us to which memory is natural. MEMORY INAPPLICABLE EXCEPT TO BEINGS SUBJECT TO LIMITATIONS OF TIME. As memory presupposes a knowledge or casual experience, memory cannot be attributed to beings that are impassible, and outside of the limitations of time. Memory is therefore inapplicable to the Divinity, to Essence, and to Intelligence, all of whom exist outside of time, as eternal and immutable, without a conception of priority or subsequentness, who ever abide in the same condition, without ever experiencing any change. How could that which is identical and immutable make use of memory, since it could neither acquire nor keep a disposition differing from the preceding one, nor have successive thoughts of which the one would be present, while the other had passed into the condition of being remembered? THERE IS A TIMELESS MEMORY CONSISTING OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.

It (may be objected) that nothing hinders Intelligence from knowing the changes of other beings, such as, for instance, the periodical revolutions of the world, without itself undergoing any change. But then it would have to follow the changes of the moving object, as it would think first of one thing, and then of another. Besides, thought is something else than memory, and we must not apply to self-consciousness the name of memory. Indeed, intelligence does not busy itself with retaining its thoughts, and with hindering them from escaping; otherwise it might also fear lest it lose its own nature ("Being"). For the soul herself, remembering is not the same as recalling innate notions. When the soul has descended here below, she may possess these notions without thinking of them, especially if it be only recently that she entered into the body. The ancient philosophers seem to have applied the terms memory and reminiscence to the actualization by which the soul thinks of the entities she possesses; that (however) is a quite special kind of memory, entirely independent of time. DEFINITION OF MEMORY DEPENDS ON WHETHER IT BELONGS TO THE SOUL OR ORGANISM.

But perhaps our solution seems superficial, and appears to rest on an insufficient analysis. It might indeed be asked whether memory and reminiscence, instead of belonging to the rational soul, might not characterize the lower soul, or the composite of soul and body that we call the organism? If indeed they belong to the lower soul, from where does the latter derive them, and how does she possess them? The same question may further be asked in the case of the organism. To answer all this, we shall, as said above, have to study our own interior principle to which memory belongs. If it be the soul that possesses memory, we shall have to ask what faculty or part thereof is constituted by memory. If, as has been urged by some, it be the organism to which memory belongs, and considering the organism as the sentient principle, how could this faculty operate within it? Besides, what is it that we should call the organism? Further, is it the same power that perceives sense-objects, and intelligible entities, or are there two distinct powers? THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SENSATION.

If the two elements which compose the animal share in the act of sensation, the sensation is common to the soul and the body, such as the acts of piercing or weaving. Thus, in sensation, the soul plays the part of the workman, and the body that of his tool; the body undergoes the experience, and serves as messenger to the soul; the soul perceives the impression produced in the body, or by the body; or she forms a judgment about the experience she has undergone. Consequently sensation is an operation common to the soul and body. IN ANY CASE MEMORY IS PECULIAR TO THE SOUL AND BODY.

This could not be the state of affairs with memory, by which the soul, having already through sensation perceived the impression produced in the body, preserves it, or dismisses it. It might be claimed that memory also is common to the soul and body, because its efficiency depends on the adjustments of the bodies. No doubt the body can hinder or promote the exercise of memory, without this faculty ceasing to be peculiar to the soul. How shall we try to prove that the memory of knowledge acquired by study, belongs to the compound, and not to the soul alone? If the organism be the composite of soul and body, in the sense that it is some third object begotten by their union, it will be absurd to say that it is neither soul nor body. Indeed, it could not be anything different from the soul and body, neither if the soul and body were transformed into the composite of which they are the elements, nor if they formed a mixture, so that the soul would be no more than potentially in the organism. Even in this case, it is still the soul, and the soul alone, that would remember. Thus in a mixture of honey and wine, it is the honey alone that should be credited with any sweetness that may be tasted. THAT THE SOUL IS INCARNATE IS NOT THE CAUSE OF HER POSSESSING MEMORY.

It may again be objected that it is indeed the soul that remembers; but only because she is resident in the body, and is not pure; she must be affected in some particular manner to be able to impress the body with the forms of sense-objects; her seat must be in the body to receive these forms, and to preserve them. But to begin with, these forms could not have any extension; then they could not be either (Stoic) seal-imprints, or impressions; for in the soul there is no impulsion, nor any imprint similar to that of a seal on wax, and the operation itself by which it perceives sense-objects is a kind of thought (or intellection). Indeed, it would be impossible to speak of an impression in the act of thought. Thought has no need of the body or a corporeal quality. It is besides necessary for the soul to remember her movements, as for instance, her desires which have not been satisfied, and whose object the body has not attained; for what could the body tell us of an object which the body has not yet reached? (Speaking of thoughts), how could the soul, conjointly with the body, remember things which the body, by its very nature, could absolutely not know? MEMORY BELONGS TO THE SOUL ALONE.

Doubtless we will have to acknowledge that there are affections which pass from the body into the soul; but there are also affections which belong exclusively to the soul, because the soul is a real being, with characteristic nature and activities. In this case, the soul must have desires, and recall them, remembering that they have, or have not been satisfied; because, by her nature, she does not form part of the things which are (as Heraclitus said) in a perpetual flow. Otherwise, we could not attribute to the soul coenesthesia (or, common feeling), conscience, reflection, or the intuition of herself. If she did not possess them by her nature, she would not acquire them by union with the body. Doubtless there are activities which the soul cannot carry out without the assistance of the organs; but she herself possesses the faculties (or "powers") from which these activities are outgrowths. Besides, she, by herself, possesses other faculties, whose operations are derived from her alone. Among these is memory, whose exercise is only hindered by the body. Indeed, when the soul unites with the body, she forgets; when she separates from the body, and purifies herself, she often recovers memory. Since the soul possesses memory when she is alone, the body, with its changeable nature, that is ever subject to a perpetual flow, is a cause of forgetfulness, and not of memory; the body therefore is, for the soul, the stream of Lethe (or forgetfulness). To the soul alone, therefore, belongs memory.

MEMORY BELONGS BOTH TO THE DIVINE SOUL, AND TO THAT DERIVED FROM THE WORLD-SOUL.

To which soul, however, does memory belong? To the soul whose nature is more divine, and which constitutes us more essentially, or to the soul that we receive from the universal Soul (the rational and irrational souls)? Memory belongs to both; but in one case it is general, and in the other particular. When both souls are united, they together possess both kinds of memory; if they both remain separate, each remembers longer what concerns herself, and remembers less long what concerns the other. That is the reason people talk of the image of Hercules being in the hells. Now this image remembers all the deeds committed in this life; for this life particularly falls to her lot. The other souls which (by uniting within themselves the rational part to the irrational) together possess both kinds of memory. They yet cannot remember anything but the things that concern this life, and which they have known here below, or even the actions which have some relation with justice. WHAT THE RATIONAL SOUL, IF SEPARATED, WOULD REMEMBER OF LIFE.

We must still clear up what would be said by Hercules (that is, the man himself), alone, and separated from his image. What then would the rational soul, if separated and isolated, say? The soul which has been attracted by the body knows everything that the man (speaking strictly), has done or experienced here below. In course of time, at death, the memories of earlier existences are reproduced; but the soul, out of scorn, allows some to escape her. Having indeed purified herself from the body, she will remember the things that were not present to her during this life. If, after having entered into another body, she happen to consider the past, she will speak of this life which will become foreign to her, of what she has recently abandoned, and of many other earlier facts. The circumstances which happen during a long period will always remain buried in oblivion. But we have not yet discovered what the soul, when isolated from the body will remember. To solve this question, we shall be forced to decide to which power of the soul memory belongs. MEMORY DOES NOT BELONG TO APPETITE, BECAUSE IT MAY BE REDUCED TO SENSATION.

Does memory belong to the powers by which we feel and know? Is it by appetite that we remember the things that excite our desires, and by anger that we remember the things that irritate us? Some will think so. It is indeed the same faculty which feels pleasure, and retains remembrance thereof. Thus when, for instance, appetite meets an object which has already made it experience pleasure, it remembers this pleasure on seeing this object. Why indeed should appetite not be similarly moved by some other object? Why is it not moved in some manner by the same object? Why should we not thus attribute to it the sensation of things of this kind? Further, why should appetite itself not be reduced to the power of sensation, and not do likewise for everything, naming each thing, by what predominates therein? WHAT APPETITE KEEPS IS AN AFFECTION, BUT NOT A MEMORY.

Must we attribute sensation to each power, but in a different manner? In this case, for instance, it will be sight, and not appetite, which will perceive sense-objects; but appetite will be later wakened by sensation which will be "relayed," (as the Stoics would say); and though it does not judge of sensation, it will unconsciously feel the characteristic affection. The same state of affairs will obtain with anger. It will be sight which will show us an injustice, but it will be anger which will resent it. Just so, when a shepherd notices a wolf near his flock, the dog, though he have not yet observed anything, will be excited by the smell or noise of the wolf. It certainly is appetite which experiences pleasure, and which keeps a trace of it; but this trace constitutes an affection or disposition, and not a memory. It is another power which observes the enjoyment of pleasure, and which remembers what occurred. This is proved by the fact that memory is often ignorant of the things in which appetite has participated, though appetite still preserve traces thereof. MEMORY DOES NOT BELONG TO THE FACULTY OF SENSATION.

Can memory be referred to sensibility? Is the faculty that feels also the one that remembers? But if the image of the soul (the irrational soul) possess the memory, as we said above, there would be in us two faculties that will feel. Further, if sensibility be capable of grasping notions, it will also have to perceive the conceptions of discursive reason, or it will be another faculty that will perceive both. MEMORY DOES NOT BELONG EXCLUSIVELY TO THE POWER OF PERCEPTION. Is the power of perception common to the reasonable soul and to the irrational soul, and will we grant that it possesses the memory of sense-objects and of intelligible things? To recognize that it is one and the same power which equally perceives both kinds of things, is already to take one step towards the solution of the problem. But if we divide this power into two, there will nevertheless still be two kinds of memory; further, if we allow two kinds of memory to each of the two souls (the rational and the irrational), there will be four kinds of memory. MEMORY IS NOT IDENTICAL WITH FEELING OR REASONING.

Are we compelled to remember sensations by sensibility, whether it be the same power which feels sensation, and which remembers sensation, or is it also discursive reason which conceives and remembers conceptions. But the men who reason the best are not those who also remember the best; and those who have equally delicate senses, do not all, on that account, have an equally good memory. On the contrary, some have delicate senses, while others have a good memory, without however being capable of perceiving equally well. On the other hand, if feeling and remembering be mutually independent, there will be (outside of sensibility) another power which will remember things formerly perceived by sensation, and this power will have to feel what it is to remember. MEMORY BELONGS TO IMAGINATION.

(To solve all these difficulties) it may be stated that nothing hinders the admission that the actualization of the sensation produces in memory an image, and that the imagination, which differs (from sensation), possesses the power of preserving and recalling these images. It is indeed imagination in which sensation culminates; and when sensation ceases, imagination preserves its representation. If then this power preserve the image of the absent object, it constitutes memory. According as the image remains for a longer or shorter time, memory is or is not faithful; and our memories last, or are effaced. Memory of sense-objects therefore belongs to the imagination. If this faculty of memory be possessed by different persons in unequal degrees, this difference depends either on the difference of forces, or on practice (or exercise), or on the absence or presence of certain bodily dispositions which may or may not influence memory, or disturb it. But elsewhere we shall study the question further. INTELLECTUAL CONCEPTIONS ARE NOT ENTIRELY PRESERVED BY IMAGINATION.

What about intellectual conceptions? Are they also preserved by imagination? If imagination accompany every thought, and if later it, as it were, preserves its image, we should thus have the memory of the known object; otherwise some other solution will have to be sought. Perhaps reason, whose actualization always accompanies thought, has the function of receiving it and transmitting it to imagination. Indeed, thought is indivisible, and so long as it is not evoked from the depths of intelligence, it remains as it were hidden within it. Reason develops it, and making it pass from the state of thought to that of image, spreads it out as it were in a mirror, for our imagination. That is why we grasp (the thought) only when the soul, which always desires rational thought, has achieved a thought. There is a difference between thought and the perception of thought. We are always thinking, but we do not always perceive our thought. That comes from the fact that the principle that perceives the thoughts also perceives the sensations, and occupies itself with both in turn. THE TWO KINDS OF MEMORY IMPLY TWO KINDS OF IMAGINATION.

If theory belong to imagination, and if both the rational and irrational souls possess memory, we will have two kinds of imagination (intellectual and sensual); and if both souls are separate, each of them will possess one kind of imagination. The theory of two kinds of imagination within us in the same principle would not account for there being two kinds of imagination; and it would leave unsolved the question to which of them memory belongs. If memory belong to both kinds of imagination, there will always be two kinds of imagination - for it cannot be said that the memory of intelligible things belongs to the one, and that of sense-things to the other; otherwise we would have two animate beings with nothing in common. If then memory equally belong to both imaginations, what difference is there between them? Besides, why do we not notice this difference? Here is the cause. OF THE TWO IMAGINATIONS ONE ALWAYS PREDOMINATES OR OVERSHADOWS THE OTHER.

When both kinds of imagination harmonize, they co-operate (in the production of a single act). The most powerful dominates, and only a single image is produced within us. The weaker follows the stronger, as the feeble reflection of a powerful light. On the contrary, when both kinds of imagination disagree and struggle, then only one of them manifests, and the other is entirely ignored, just as we always ignore that we have two souls; for both souls are melted into a single one, and the one serves as vehicle for the other. The one sees all, but preserves only certain memories when she leaves the body, and leaves in oblivion greater part of the things that relate to the other. Likewise, after we have established relations with friends of an inferior order, we may acquire more distinguished friendships, and we remember the former but very little, though we remember the latter very distinctly. PARTITION OF THE FUND OF MEMORY BETWEEN THE TWO SOULS.

What about (the memory) of friends, of parents, of a wife, of the fatherland, and of all that a virtuous man may properly remember? In the image of the soul (the irrational soul) these memories will be accompanied by a passive affection; but in the man (the rational soul) they will not be so accompanied. The affections exist since the beginning in the inferior soul; in the superior soul, as a result of her dealings with the other, there are also some affections, but only proper affections. The inferior soul may well seek to remember the actions of the superior soul, especially when she herself has been properly cultivated; for she can become better from her very principle up, and through the education she receives from the other. The higher soul must willingly forget what comes to her from the inferior soul. When she is good, she can, besides, by her power contain the subordinate soul. The more she desires to approach the intelligible world, the more she must forget the things from here below, unless the whole life she has led here below be such that she has entrusted to her memory none but praiseworthy things. Even in our own world, indeed, it is a fine thing to release oneself from human preoccupations. It would therefore be still finer to forget them all. In this sense we might well say that the virtuous soul should be forgetful. She thus escapes manifoldness, reduces manifoldness to unity, and abandons the indeterminate. She therefore ceases to live with manifoldness, lightens her burdens, and lives for herself. Indeed, while remaining here below, she desires to live in the intelligible world, and neglects all that is foreign to her nature. She therefore retains but few earthly things when she has arrived to the intelligible world; she has more of them when she inhabits the heavens. Hercules (in heaven) may well vaunt his valor; but even this valor seems to him trifling when he has arrived at a region still holier than heaven, when he dwells in the intelligible world, when he has risen over Hercules himself by the force manifested in those struggles which are characteristic of veritable sages.

Questions About the Soul. (Second Part.) SPEECH OF SOUL IN THE INTELLIGIBLE WORLD.

When the soul will have risen to the intelligible world, what will she say, and what will she remember? She will contemplate the beings to which she will be united and she will apply her whole attention thereto; otherwise, she would not be in the intelligible world. MEMORY OF SOUL IN THE INTELLIGIBLE WORLD. Will she have no memory of things here below? Will she not, for instance, remember that she devoted herself to philosophy; and that, during her residence on the earth, she contemplated the intelligible world? No: for an intelligence entirely devoted to the object of its thought, cannot simultaneously contemplate the intelligible and think something else. The act of thought does not imply the memory of having thought. IN THE INTELLIGIBLE WORLD ALL THINGS ARE SIMULTANEOUS; HENCE NOT REMEMBERED.

But this memory is posterior to thought! In this case, the mind in which it occurs has changed condition. It is therefore impossible that he who is entirely devoted to the pure contemplation of the intelligible should simultaneously remember the things that formerly happened to him here below. If, as it seems, thought is outside of time, because all the intelligible essences, being eternal, have no relation with time, it is evidently impossible that the intelligence which has raised itself to the intelligible world should have any memory of the things here below, or even have absolutely any memory whatever; for each (of the essences of the intelligible world) are always present to the intelligence which is not obliged to go through them successively, passing from one to the other. INTELLIGENCE UNITES AS IT RISES TO THE INTELLIGIBLE. Will not the intelligence divide itself in descending (from the genera) to the species (or forms)? No: for she reascends to the universal and the superior Principle. NOT EVEN THE ASCENDED SOUL NEED BE DIVIDED. Granting then that there is no division in the intelligence which possesses everything simultaneously; will there not at least be division in the soul which has risen to the intelligible world? Nothing however forbids that the totality of the united intelligibles be grasped by an intuition equally unitary and total. THE UNITY OF APPERCEPTION IS MANIFOLD.

Is this intuition similar to the intuition of an object grasped in its entirety by a single glance, or does it contain all the thoughts of the intelligibles contemplated simultaneously? Since the intelligibles offer a varied spectacle, the thought which grasps them must evidently be equally multiple and varied, comprehending several thoughts, like the perception of a single sense-object, as for instance that of a face comprehends several perceptions because the eye, on perceiving the face, simultaneously sees the nose and the other features. IN THE INTELLIGIBLE ANTERIORITY REFERS TO ORDER, NOT TO TIME. It may be objected that it may happen that the soul will divide and develop something which was unitary. This thing must then already have been divided in intelligence, but such a division is more like an impression. As anteriority or posteriority in ideas does not refer to time, so also will the mental conception of anteriority and posteriority not be subject to temporal conditions, but refer to order (which presides over intelligible things). For instance, on considering a tree's order that extends from the roots to the tree-top, priority and posteriority exists only under the relation of order, inasmuch as the whole plant is perceived at one single glance. INTELLIGENCE IS NOT A UNITY; BUT ITS MANIFOLD IS PRODUCED BY A UNITY.

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

Granted. But does the soul remember herself? Probably not. He who contemplates the intelligible world does not remember who he is; that, for instance, he is Socrates, that he is a soul or an intelligence. How indeed would he remember it? Entirely devoted to the contemplation of the intelligible world, he does not by thought reflect back upon himself; he possesses himself, but he applies himself to the intelligible, and becomes the intelligible, in respect to which he plays the part of matter. He assumes the form of the object he is contemplating, and he then is himself only potentially. Actually, he is himself only when he thinks the intelligible. When he is himself only, he is empty of all things, because he does not think the intelligible; but if by nature he is such that he is all things, in thinking himself, he thinks all things. In this state, seeing himself actually by the glance he throws on himself, he embraces all things in this intuition; on the other hand, by the glance he throws on all things, he embraces himself in the intuition of all things. IN THE INTELLIGIBLE SELF-DIRECTION OF THOUGHT IS NOT CHANGEABLENESS.

Under the above circumstances, the soul changes thoughts - something that we above refused to admit. Intelligence is indeed immutable; but the soul, situated on the extremities of the intelligible world, may undergo some change when she reflects upon herself. Indeed, what applies to the immutable necessarily undergoes some change in respect to it, because it does not always remain applied to it. To speak exactly, there is no change when the soul detaches herself from the things that belong to her to turn towards herself, and conversely; for the soul is all things, and the soul forms but one thing with the intelligible. But when the soul is in the intelligible world, she becomes estranged from herself and from all that belongs to her; then, living purely in the intelligible world, she participates in its immutability, and she becomes all that it is; for, as soon as she has raised herself to this superior region, she must necessarily unite herself to Intelligence, towards which she has turned, and from which she is no longer separated by an intermediary. On rising towards intelligence, the soul attunes herself to it, and consequently unites herself with it durably, in a manner such that both are simultaneously single and double. In this state the soul cannot change; she is immutably devoted to thought, and she simultaneously has self-consciousness, because she forms a unity with the intelligible world. THE SOUL BECOMES WHAT SHE REMEMBERS.

When the soul departs from the intelligible world; when instead of continuing to form a unity with it, she wishes to become independent, to become distinct, and to belong to herself; when she inclines towards the things here below, then she remembers herself. The memory of intelligible things hinders her from falling, that of terrestrial things makes her descend here below, and that of celestial things makes her dwell in heaven. In general, the soul is and becomes what she remembers. Indeed, to remember is to think or imagine; now, to imagine is not indeed to possess a thing, but to see it and to conform to it. If the soul see sense-things, by the very act of looking at them she somehow acquires some extension. As she is things other than herself only secondarily, she is none of them perfectly. Placed and established on the confines of the sense and intelligible worlds, she may equally move towards either. MEMORY IS NOT AS HIGH AS UNREFLECTIVE IDENTIFICATION.

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

That the soul, on leaving the intelligible world, brings away with her memories thereof, implies that even in the (intelligible) world she to a certain degree already possessed memory; but this potentiality was eclipsed by the thought of the intelligible entities. It would be absurd to insist that the latter existed in the soul in the condition of simple images; on the contrary, they there constituted an (intellectual) potentiality which later passed into the condition of actualization. Whenever the soul happens to cease applying herself to the contemplation of intelligible entities she no longer sees what she formerly saw (that is, sense-objects). INTELLIGIBLE ENTITIES RETURN, NOT BY MEMORY, BUT BY FURTHER VISION.

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

Reasonable arguments therefore clearly demonstrate that memory manifests in the soul only when she has descended from the intelligible world into the (earthly) heavens. Likewise, it would not surprise us if, when she had risen from here below to the heavens, and had dwelt there, she should remember a great number of things from here below, of which we have already spoken, and that she would recognize many souls which she had known earlier, since these latter must necessarily be joined to bodies with similar countenances. Even though the souls should change the shapes of their bodies, making them spherical, they would still be recognizable by their habits and individual character. There is nothing incredible in this, for in admitting that these souls have purified themselves from all these passions, nothing hinders them from preserving their character. Besides, if they can converse with each other, they have this as an additional means of recognizing each other. TRAINING HERE BELOW WILL HELP THE SOULS TO REMEMBER WHEN BEYOND. What happens when souls descend from the intelligible world into the (earthly) heavens? They then recover memory, but they possess it in a degree less than the souls who have always occupied themselves with the same objects. Besides, they have many other things to remember, and a long space of time has made them forget many actions. FALL INTO GENERATION MAY BE PARTIAL; AND MAY BE RECOVERED FROM, BEFORE RUIN.

But if, after having descended into the sense-world they fall (from the heavens) into generation, what will be the time when they will remember? It is not necessary that the souls (which depart from the intelligible world) should fall into the lowest regions. It is possible that, after having descended only a little from the intelligible world their movement may be arrested, and nothing hinders them from returning on high before they have become degraded in the lower regions of generation. MEMORY IS LIMITED TO SOULS THAT CHANGE THEIR CONDITION.

It may therefore be fearlessly affirmed that the souls which exercise their discursive reason, and which change condition, remember; for memory is the characteristic of things that were, but no more are. DO THE WORLD-SOUL AND THE STAR-SOULS EXERCISE MEMORY? But evidently the souls which dwell in the same state could not exercise memory; for what would they have to remember? If (ignoring our arguments above) human reason should wish to attribute memory to the souls of all the stars, especially to that of the moon and the sun, there is nothing to hinder it from doing the same with regard to the universal Soul, and it would dare to attribute even to Jupiter memories which would occupy him with a thousand different things. As soon as it will have entered into this order of ideas, reason would proceed to speculate about the conceptions and ratiocinations of the star-souls - that is, granting that they reason at all. (But that is a gratuitous assumption); for if these souls have nothing to discover, if they do not doubt, if they have no need of anything, if they do not learn things that they have ignored before, what use would they make of reasoning, of arguments, or of the conceptions of discursive reason? They have no need of seeking mechanical means of governing human affairs and events; for they enforce order in the universe in a totally different manner.

THESE SOULS DO NOT REMEMBER GOD; FOR THEY CONTINUE TO SEE HIM.

Will these souls not even remember that they have seen the divinity? (They have no need of doing so, for) they see Him all the time; as long as they continue to see Him they cannot say that they have seen Him, because such a statement would imply that they see Him no more. MEMORY IS IMPOSSIBLE TO THESE SOULS, FOR TO THEM THERE IS NO TIME, BUT ONE SINGLE DAY. Will they not even remember that they performed their revolution yesterday, or the year before, that they lived yesterday, and since have lived a long while? They still live continuously; now, what remains the same, is one. To try to distinguish yesterday and last year in the movement of the stars, is to do like a man who would divide into several parts the movement which forms one step, who would wish to reduce unity to multiplicity. Indeed, the movement of the stars is one, although it is by us subjected to a measure, as if it were multiple; so we count the days different one from the other because the nights separate them from each other. But since there is but one single day in the heavens, how could one count several? How could there be a "last year"? BUT WHY COULD THE STAR-SOULS NOT BE CONSCIOUS OF OUR CHANGES?

It may be objected that the space transversed (by planets) is not a unity, but contains several parts, as notably in the zodiac. Why then could the celestial Soul not say, "I have passed this part, I have now arrived at another"? Besides, if the star-souls consider human things, how would they not see that there are changes here below, that the men existing to-day have succeeded others? If so, they must know that other men have already existed, that there have been other facts. They therefore possess memory. MANY NEW THINGS ARE UNNOTICED; NOTHING FORCES THE PERCEPTION OF NEW THINGS.

It is not necessary to remember all one sees, nor by imagination to represent to oneself all the things that follow fortuitously. Besides, when the mind possesses a knowledge and a clear conception of certain objects which later come to offer themselves to his senses, nothing forces him to abandon the knowledge he has acquired by intelligence, to look at the particular sense-object which is in front of him, unless he be charged to administer some of the particular things contained in the notion of the all. MEMORY IS NOT COMPULSORY.

Now, to enter into details, let us first say that one does not necessarily retain all one has seen. When something is neither interesting nor important, the senses, impressed by the diversity of objects without our voluntary direction of consciousness, are alone affected; the soul does not perceive the impressions because there is no utility in them for her. When the soul is turned towards herself, or towards other objects, and when she applies herself to them entirely, she could not remember these indifferent things, for she does not even perceive them when they are present. Neither is it necessary that the imagination should represent to itself what is accidental; nor, if it does represent them to itself, that it should retain them faithfully. It is easy to be convinced that a sense-impression of this kind is not perceived, on the ground of the following arguments. In the act of walking we divide, or rather traverse the air, without any conscious purpose; consequently we neither notice it, nor think of it, while we press forward. Likewise, if we had not decided to take some particular road, and unless we could fly through the air, we would not think of the region of the earth where we are, nor of the distance we have traveled. This is proved by the fact that when the mind possesses the general knowledge of what occurs, and is sure that the things will occur as planned, a man no longer attends to details. Besides, if a person continues to do the same thing, it would be useless to continue to observe the similar details. Consequently if the stars, while following their courses, carry out their duties without attending to the occurrence of what goes on; and unless their chief duty is to observe occurrences or the occurrence itself; and if their progress is nothing more than accidental, while their attention is held by other and greater objects; and if they regularly continue to pass through the same orbit without considering the calculation of time, even if it had already been divided (under these four conditions); there is no need to suppose that these stars would have a memory of the places they pass by, or of their periods. Their life would be uniform; because they always travel through the same places, so that their movement is, so to speak, more vital than local, because it is produced by a single living being (the universe), which, realizing it within itself, is exteriorly at rest and interiorly in motion by its eternal life.

STAR-MOTIONS COMPARED TO A BALLET-CHORUS. The movement of the stars might be compared to that of a choric ballet. Let us suppose that it had but a limited duration; its motion would be considered perfect, if viewed as a totality, from beginning to end; but if considered in its parts only, it would be imperfect. Now if we suppose that it exists always; then will it always be perfect. If it be always perfect, there will be neither time nor place where it is becoming perfect; consequently, it will not even have any desire, and it will measure nothing, neither by time nor place; and therefore will not remember either. STARS HAVE NO MEMORY BECAUSE THEY ARE UNIFORMLY BLISSFUL. Besides, the stars enjoy a blissful life because they contemplate the real life in their own souls; because they all aspire to the One, and, radiating into the entire heavens, like cords that vibrate in unison, they produce a kind of symphony by their natural harmony. Last, the entire heavens revolve; so also do their parts, which, in spite of the diversity of their motions, and of their positions, all gravitate towards a same centre. Now all these facts support the theory we have advanced, since they show that the life of the universe is one system, and is uniform. QUESTION: DOES JUPITER'S ROYAL ADMINISTRATION IMPLY A USE OF MEMORY?

Jupiter, who governs the world, and endues it with order and beauty, possesses from all eternity a royal soul and intelligence; he produces things by his providence, and regulates them by his power; in an orderly manner he disposes everything in the development and achievement of the numerous periods of the stars. Do not such acts on Jupiter's part imply use of memory by which he may know what periods have already been accomplished, and busy himself with the preparation of others by his combinations, his calculations, and reasonings? His being the most skilful administrator in the world would seem to imply that he uses memory. THE INFINITY OF JUPITER'S LIFE OPPOSES HIS USE OF MEMORY.

We might well, in respect to the memory of these periods, examine the number of these periods, and whether it is known to Jupiter; for if it be a finite number, the universe will have had a commencement within time; but if it be infinite, Jupiter will not have been able to know how many things he has done. (To solve this problem) we must admit that Jupiter ever enjoys knowledge, in a single and unitary life. It is in this sense that he must be infinite and possess unity, not by a knowledge come to him from without, but interiorly, by his very nature, because the infinite ever remains entire in him, is inherent in him, is contemplated by him, and is not, for him, simply the object of an accidental knowledge. Indeed, while knowing the infinity of his life, Jupiter simultaneously knows that the influence he exercises on the universe is single; but his knowledge thereof is not due to his exercising it on the universe. JUPITER MAY BE TAKEN IN A DOUBLE SENSE.

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

RATIOCINATION HAS NO PLACE IN THE WORLD-SOUL.

The world is administered like a living being, namely, partly from the outside, and from the resulting members, and partly from within, and from the principle. The art of the physician works from outside in, deciding which organ is at fault, operating only with hesitation and after groping around experimentally. Nature, however, starting within from the principle, has no need to deliberate. The power which administers the universe proceeds not like the physician, but like nature. It preserves its simplicity so much the better as it comprises everything in its breast, inasmuch as all things are parts of the living being which is one. Indeed, nature, which is unitary, dominates all individual natures; these proceed from it, but remain attached thereto, like branches of an immense tree, which is the universe. What would be the utility of reasoning, calculation, and memory in a principle that possesses an ever present and active wisdom, and which, by this wisdom, dominates the world and administers it in an immutable manner? That its works are varied and changeful, does not imply that this principle must itself participate in their mutability. It remains immutable even while producing different things. Are not several stages produced successively in each animal, according to its various ages? Are not certain parts born and increased at determinate periods, such as the horns, the beard, and the breasts? Does one not see each being begetting others? Thus, without the degeneration of the earlier ("seminal) reasons," others develop in their turn. This is proved by the ("seminal) reason" subsisting identical and entire within the same living being.

THIS UNIVERSAL WISDOM IS PERMANENT BECAUSE TIMELESS. We are therefore justified in asserting the rule of one and the same wisdom. This wisdom is universal; it is the permanent wisdom of the world; it is multiple and varied, and at the same time it is one, because it is the wisdom of the living Being which is one, and is the greatest of all. It is invariable, in spite of the multiplicity of its works; it constitutes the Reason which is one, and still is all things simultaneously. If it were not all things, it would, instead of being the wisdom of the universe, be the wisdom of only the latter and individual things. WISDOM, IN THE WORLD-SOUL DOES NOT IMPLY REASONING AND MEMORY.

It may perhaps be objected that this might be true of nature, but that whereas the Soul-of-the-universe contains wisdom, this implies also reasoning and memory. This objection could be raised only by persons who by "wisdom" understand that which is its absence, and mistake the search for wisdom for reasonable thinking. For what can reasoning be but the quest of wisdom, the real reason, the intelligence of the real essence? He who exercises reason resembles a man who plays the lyre to exercise himself, to acquire the habit of playing it, and, in general, to a man who learns in order to know. He seeks indeed to acquire science, whose possession is the distinguishing characteristic of a sage. Wisdom consists therefore in a stable condition. This is seen even in the conduct of the reasoner; as soon as he has found what he sought, he ceases to reason, and rests in the possession of wisdom. OMNISCIENT INTUITION MAKES MEMORY AND REASONING SUPERFLUOUS.

Therefore, if the governing Power of the world seems to resemble those who learn, it will be necessary to attribute to it reasoning, reflection, and memory, so that it may compare the past with the present or the future. But if, on the contrary, its knowledge be such as to have nothing more to learn, and to remain in a perfectly stable condition, it evidently possesses wisdom by itself. If it know future things - a privilege that could not be denied it under penalty of absurdity - why would it not also know how they are to occur? Knowing all this, it would have no further need of comparing the past with the present. Besides, this knowledge of its future will not resemble the prevision of the foretellers, but to the certitude entertained by makers about their handiwork. This certitude admits no hesitation, no ambiguity; it is absolute; as soon as it has obtained assent, it remains immutable. Consequently, the wisdom about the future is the same as about the present, because it is immutable; that is, without ratiocination. If, however, it did not know the future things it was to produce, it would not know how to produce them, and it would produce them without rule, accidentally, by chance. In its production, it remains immutable; consequently, it produces without changing, at least as far as permitted by the model borne within it. Its action is therefore uniform, ever the same; otherwise, the soul might err. If its work was to contain differences, it does not derive these from itself, but from the ("seminal) reasons" which themselves proceed from the creating principle. Thus the created things depend from the series of reasons, and the creating principle has no need to hesitate, to deliberate, neither to support a painful work, as was thought by some philosophers who considered the task of regulating the universe wearisome. It would indeed be a tiresome task to handle a strange matter, that is, one which is unmanageable. But when a power by itself dominates (what it forms), it cannot have need of anything but itself and its counsel; that is, its wisdom, for in such a power the counsel is identical with wisdom. It therefore needs nothing for creation, since the wisdom it possesses is not a borrowed wisdom. It needs nothing (extraneous or) adventitious; consequently, neither reasoning nor memory, which faculties yield us nothing but what is adventitious.