The Theology of Plato (with the Elements of Theology)

And every thing which is deprived of good, so far indeed as pertains to itself, and its own subsistence, is deprived of it through imbecility of nature; but it is good to the whole, and so far as it is a part of the universe. For it is not possible that either a privation of life, or deformity and immoderation, or in short privation can be inserted in the universe; but its whole number is always perfect, being held together by the goodness of wholes. And life is every where present, together with existence, and the being perfect, so far as each thing gives completion to the whole. Divinity therefore, as we have said, is the cause[121] of good; but the shadowy subsistence of evil does not subsist from power, but from the imbecility of the natures which receive the illuminations of the Gods. Nor is evil in wholes, but in partial natures, nor yet in all these. For the first of partial natures and partial intellectual genera are eternally boniform. But the media among these, and which energize according to time, connecting the participation of the good with temporal mutation and motion, are incapable of preserving the gift of the Gods immoveable, uniform and simple; by their variety obscuring[122] the simplicity of this gift, by their multiform its uniform nature, and by their commixture its purity and incorruptibility. For they do not consist of incorruptible first genera, nor have they a simple essence, nor uniform powers, but such as are composed of the contraries to these, as Socrates somewhere says in the Phædrus.

And the last of partial natures and which are also material, in a much greater degree pervert their proper good. For they are mingled with a privation of life, and have a subsistence resembling that of an image, since it is replete with much of non-entity, consists of things hostile to each other, and of circumstances which are mutable and dispersed through the whole of time, so that they never cease to evince in every thing that they are given up to corruption, privation of symmetry, deformity, and all-various mutations, being not only extended in their energies, like the natures prior to them, but being replete both in their powers and energies with that which is preternatural, and with material imbecility. For things which become situated in a foreign place, by co-introducing whole together with form, rule over the subject nature; but again receding to that which is partial, from their proper wholeness, and participating of partibility, imbecility, war and the division which is the source of generation, they are necessarily all-variously changed. Neither, therefore, is every being perfectly good; for there would not be the corruption and generation of bodies, nor the purification and punishment of souls. Nor is there any evil in wholes: for the world would not be a blessed god, if the most principal parts of which it consists were imperfect. Nor are the Gods the causes of evils, in the same manner as they are of goods;

but evil originates from the imbecility of the recipients of good, and a subsistence in the last of things. Nor is the evil which has a shadowy subsistence in partial natures, unmingled with good. But this participates of it in a certain respect, by its very existence being detained by good. Nor in short, is it possible for evil which is perfectly destitute of all good to have a subsistence. For evil itself is even beyond that which in no respect whatever has an existence, just as the good itself is beyond that which is perfectly being. Nor is the evil which is in partial natures left in a disordered state, but even this is made subservient to good purposes by the Gods, and on this account justice purifies souls from depravity. But another order of gods purifies from the depravity which is in bodies. All things however are converted as much as possible to the goodness of the Gods. And wholes indeed remain in their proper boundaries, and also the perfect and beneficent genera of beings. But more partial and imperfect natures are adorned and arranged in a becoming manner, become subservient to the completion of wholes, are called upward to the beautiful, are changed, and in every way enjoy the participation of the good, so far as this can be accomplished by them.

For there cannot be a greater good to each of these, than what the Gods impart according to measures to their progeny: but all things, each separately, and all in common, receive such a portion of good, as it is possible for them to participate. But if some things are filled with greater, and others with less goods, the power of the recipients, and the measures of the distribution must be assigned as the cause of this. For different things are adapted to different beings according to their nature. But the Gods always extend good, in the same manner as the sun always emits light. For a different thing receives this light differently according to its order, and receives the greatest portion of light it is capable of receiving. For all things are led according to justice, and good is not absent from any thing, but is present to every thing, according to an appropriate boundary of participation. And as the Athenian guest says, all things are in a good condition, and are arranged by the Gods. Let no one therefore say, that there are precedaneous productive principles of evil in nature, or intellectual paradigms of evils, in the same manner as there are of goods, or that there is a malific soul, or an evil-producing cause in the Gods, nor let him introduce sedition and eternal war against the first good. For all these are foreign from the science of Plato, and being more remote from the truth wander into barbaric folly, and gigantic mythology. Nor if certain persons speaking obscurely in arcane narrations, devise things of this kind, shall we make any alteration in the apparent apparatus of what they indicate. But the truth indeed of those things is to be investigated, and in the mean time, the science of Plato must be genuinely received in the pure bosoms of the soul, and must be preserved undefiled and unmingled with contrary opinions.

In the next place, let us survey the immutability and simplicity of the Gods, what the nature of each of them is, and how both these appear to be adapted to the hyparxis of the Gods, according to the narration of Plato. The Gods, therefore, are exempt from the whole of things. But filling these, as we have said, with good, they are themselves perfectly good; each of them according to his proper order possesses that which is most excellent; and the whole genus of the Gods is at once allotted predominance according to an exuberance of good. But here again, we must oppose those who interpret in a divisible manner that which is most excellent in the Gods, and who say, that if the first cause is most excellent, that which is posterior to the first is not so. For it is necessary, say they, that what is produced should be inferior to that by which it is produced. And this indeed is rightly asserted by them. For it is necessary in the Gods, to preserve the order of causes unconfused, and to define separately their second and third progressions. But together with a progression of this kind, and with[123] the unfolding into light of things secondary from those that are first, that which is most excellent must also be surveyed in each of the Gods. For each of the Gods in his own characteristic peculiarity is allotted a transcendency which is primary and perfectly good.

One of them indeed, that we may speak of something known, is allotted this transcendency, and is most excellent as possessing a prophetic power, another as demiurgic, but another as a perfector of works. And Timæus indicating this to us, continually calls the first demiurgus the best of causes. For the world, says he, is the most beautiful of generated natures, and its artificer is the best of causes; though the intelligible paradigm, and which is the most beautiful of intelligibles is prior to the demiurgus. But this is most beautiful and at the same time most excellent, as the demiurgic paradigm; and the maker and at the same time father of the universe is most excellent, as a demiurgic God. In the Republic also, Socrates speaking of the Gods, very properly observes, that each of them being as much as possible most beautiful and most excellent, remains always with a simplicity of subsistence in his own form. For each of them being allotted that which is first and the summit in his own series, does not depart from his own order, but contains the blessedness and felicity of his own proper power. And neither does he exchange his present for a worse order; for it is not lawful for that which possesses all virtue to be changed into a worse condition; nor does he pass into a better order. For where can there be any thing better than that which is most excellent?

But this is present with each of the divinities according to his own order, as we have said, and also with every genus of the Gods. It is necessary therefore that every divine nature should be established immutably, abiding in its own accustomed manner. Hence from these things the self-sufficiency, undefiled purity, and invariable sameness of subsistence of the Gods is apparent. For if they are not changed to a more excellent condition of being, as possessing that which is best in their own nature, they are sufficient to themselves, and are not in want of any good. And if they are not at any time changed to a worse condition, they remain undefiled, established in their own transcendencies. If also they guard the perfection of themselves immutably, they subsist always with invariable sameness. What the self-sufficiency therefore of the Gods is, what their immutability, and what their sameness of subsistence, we shall in the next place consider.

The world then is said to be self-sufficient, because its subsistence is perfect from things perfect, and a whole from wholes; and because it is filled with all appropriate goods from its generating father. But a perfection and self-sufficiency of this kind is partible, and is said to consist of many things coalescing in one, and is filled from separate causes according to participation. The order of divine souls also, is said to be self-sufficient, as being full of appropriate virtues, and always preserving the measure of its own blessedness without indigence. But here likewise the self-sufficiency is in want of powers. For these souls have not their intellections directed to the same intelligibles; but they energize according to time, and obtain the complete perfection of their contemplation in whole periods of time. The self-sufficiency therefore of divine souls, and the whole perfection of their life is not at once present. Again, the intellectual world is said to be self-sufficient, as having its whole good established in eternity, comprehending at once its whole blessedness, and being indigent of nothing, because all life and all intelligence are present with it, and nothing is deficient, nor does it desire any thing as absent. But this, indeed, is sufficient to itself in its own order, yet it falls short of the self-sufficiency of the Gods. For every intellect is boniform, yet is not goodness itself, nor primarily good; but each of the Gods is a unity, hyparxis and goodness.

The peculiarity however of hyparxis changes the progression of the goodness of each. For one divinity is a perfective goodness, another is a goodness connective of the whole of things, and another is a collective goodness. But each is simply a goodness sufficient to itself. Or it may be said, that each is a goodness possessing the self-sufficient and the all-perfect, neither according to participation, nor illumination, but by being that very thing which it is. For intellect is sufficient to itself by participation, and soul by illumination, but this universe, according to a similitude to a divine nature. The Gods themselves, however, are self-sufficient through and by themselves, filling themselves, or rather subsisting as the plenitudes of all good.

But with respect to the immutability of the Gods, of what kind shall we say it is? Is it such as that of a [naturally] circulating body? For neither is this adapted to receive any thing from inferior natures, nor is it filled with the mutation arising from generation, and the disorder which occurs in the sublunary regions. For the nature of the celestial bodies is immaterial and immutable. But this indeed is great and venerable, as in corporeal hypostases, yet it is inferior to the nature of the Gods. For every body possesses both its being, and its perpetual immutability from other precedaneous causes. But neither is the impassive and the immutable in the Gods such as the immutability of souls. For these communicate in a certain respect with bodies, and are the media of an impartible essence, and of an essence divided about bodies. Nor again is the immutability of intellectual essences equivalent to that of the Gods. For intellect is immutable, impassive, and unmingled with secondary natures, on account of its union with the Gods. And so far indeed as it is uniform, it is a thing of this kind; but so far as it is manifold, it has something which is more excellent, and something which is subordinate, in itself. But the Gods alone having established their unions according to this transcendency of beings, are immutable dominations, are primary and impassive. For there is nothing in them which is not one and hyparxis. But as fire abolishes every thing which is foreign to it and of a contrary power, as light expels all darkness, and as lightning proceeds through all things without defilement, thus also the unities of the Gods unite all multitude, and abolish every thing which tends to dispersion and all-perfect division. But they deify every thing which participates of them, receiving nothing from their participants, and do not[124] diminish their own proper union by the participation.

Hence also the Gods being present every where, are similarly exempt from all things, and containing all things are vanquished by no one of the things they contain; but they are unmingled with all things and undefiled. In the third place, this world indeed is said to subsist with invariable sameness, so far as it is allotted an order in itself which is always preserved indissoluble. At the same time however, since it possesses a corporeal form, it is not destitute of mutation, as the Elean guest observes. The psychical order likewise is said to obtain an essence always established in sameness; and this is rightly said. For it is entirely impassive according to essence; but it has energies extended into time, and as Socrates says in the Phædrus, at different times it understands different intelligibles, and in its progressions about intellect comes into contact with different forms. Besides these also, much-honored intellect is said both to subsist and to understand with invariable and perpetual sameness, establishing at once in eternity its essence, powers, and energies. Through the multitude however of its intellections, and through the variety of intelligible species and genera, there is not only an invariable sameness, but also a difference of subsistence in intellect. For difference there is consubsistent with sameness. And there is not only a wandering of corporeal motions, and of the psychical periods, but likewise of intellect itself, so far as it produces the intelligence of itself into multitude;

and evolves the intelligible. For soul indeed evolves intellect, but intellect the intelligible, as Plotinus somewhere rightly observes, when speaking of the intelligible subjections. For such are the wanderings of intellect and which it is lawful for it to make. If therefore we should say that a perpetual sameness of subsistence is primarily in the Gods alone, and is especially inherent in them, we shall not deviate from the truth, and we shall accord with Plato, who says in the Politicus, that an eternally invariable sameness of subsistence alone pertains to the most divine of all things. The Gods, therefore, bind to themselves the causes of a sameness of this kind, and guard with immutable sameness their proper hyparxis established according to the unknown union of themselves. And such is the immutability of the Gods, which is contained in self-sufficiency, impassivity and sameness.

In the next place, let us consider what power the simplicity of the Gods possesses; for this Socrates adds in his discourse concerning a divine nature, not admitting that which is various, and multiform, and which appears different at different times, but referring to divinity the uniform and the simple. Each of the divinities therefore, as he says, remains simply in his own form. What then shall we conclude respecting this simplicity? That it is not such as that which is defined to be one in number. For a thing of this kind is composed of many things, and abundantly mingled. But it appears to be simple so far as it has distinctly a common form. Nor is it such as the simplicity which is in many things according to an arranged species or genus. For these are indeed more simple than the individuals in which they are inherent, but are replete with variety, communicate with matter, and receive the diversities of material natures. Nor is it such as the form of nature. For nature is divided about bodies, verges to corporeal masses, emits many powers about the composition subject to it, and is indeed more simple than bodies, but has an essence mingled with their variety. Nor is it such as the psychical simplicity. For soul subsisting as a medium between an impartible essence, and an essence which is divided about bodies, communicates with both the extremes. And by that which is multiform indeed in its nature it is conjoined with things subordinate, but its head is established on high, and according to this it is especially divine, and allied to intellect.

Nor again is the simplicity of the Gods such as that of intellect. For every intellect is impartible and uniform, but at the same time it possesses multitude and progression; by which it is evident that it has a habitude to secondary natures, to itself, and about itself. It is also in itself, and is not only uniform, but also multiform, and as it is said, is one many. It is therefore allotted an essence subordinate to the first simplicity. But the Gods have their hyparxis defined in one simplicity alone, being exempt indeed from all multitude so far as they are gods, and transcending all division and interval, or habitude to secondary natures, and all composition. And they indeed are in inaccessible places, expanded above the whole of things, and eternally ride on beings. But the illuminations proceeding from them to secondary natures, being mingled in many places with their participants which are composite and various, are filled with a peculiarity similar to them. Let no one therefore wonder, if the Gods being essentialized in one simplicity according to transcendency, various phantasms are hurled forth before the presence of them; nor, if they being uniform the appearances are multiform, as we have learnt in the most perfect of the mysteries. For nature, and the demiurgic intellect extend corporeal-formed images of things incorporeal, sensible images of intelligible, and of things without interval, images endued with interval. For Socrates also in the Phædrus indicating things of this kind, and evincing that the mysteries into which souls without bodies are initiated are most blessed, and truly perfect, says, that they are initiated into entire, simple and immoveable visions, such souls becoming situated there, and united with the Gods themselves, but not meeting with the resemblances which are emitted from the Gods into these sublunary realms.

For these are more partial and composite, and present themselves to the view attended with motion. But illuminated, uniform, simple, and, as Socrates says, immoveable spectacles exhibit themselves to the attendants of the Gods, and to souls that abandon the abundant tumult of generation, and who ascend to divinity pure and divested of the garments of mortality. And thus much is concluded by us respecting the simplicity of the Gods. For it is necessary that the nature which generates things multiform should be simple,[125] and should precede what is generated, in the same manner as the uniform precedes the multiplied. If, therefore, the Gods are the causes of all composition, and produce from themselves the variety of beings, it is certainly necessary that the one of their nature which is generative of the whole of things, should have its subsistence in simplicity. For as incorporeal causes precede bodies, immoveable causes things that are moved, and impartible causes all partible natures, after the same manner uniform intellectual powers precede multiform natures, unmingled powers, things that are mingled together, and simple powers, things of a variegated nature.

In the next place, let us speak concerning the truth which is in the Gods; for this in addition to what has been said is concluded by Socrates, because a divine nature is without falsehood, and is neither the cause of deception or ignorance to us, or to any other beings. We must understand therefore, that divine truth is exempt from the truth which consists in words, so far as this truth is composite, and in a certain respect is mingled with its contrary, and because its subsistence consists of things that are not true. For the first parts do not admit of a truth of this kind, unless some one being persuaded by what Socrates asserts in the Cratylus, should say that these also are after another manner true. Divine truth also is exempt from psychical truth, whether it is surveyed in opinions or in sciences, so far as it is in a certain respect divisible, and is not beings themselves, but is assimilated to and co-harmonized with beings, and as being perfected in motion and mutation falls short of the truth which is always firm, stable and of a principal nature. Divine truth is likewise again exempt from intellectual truth, because though this subsists according to essence, and is said to be and is, beings themselves, through the power of sameness, yet again, through difference, it is separated from the essence of them, and preserves its peculiar hypostasis unconfused with respect to them.

The truth therefore of the Gods alone, is the undivided union and all-perfect communion of them. And through this the ineffable knowledge of the Gods, surpasses all knowledge, and all secondary forms of knowledge participate of an appropriate perfection. But this knowledge alone of the Gods contractedly comprehends these secondary forms of knowledge, and all beings according to an ineffable union. And through this the Gods know all things at once, wholes and parts, beings and non-beings, things eternal and things temporal, not in the same manner as intellect by the universal knows a part, and by being, non-being, but they know every thing immediately, such things as are common, and such as are particulars, though you should speak of the most absurd of all things, though you should speak of the infinity of contingencies, or even of matter itself.

If, however, you investigate the mode of the knowledge and truth of the Gods, concerning all things that have a subsistence in any respect whatever, it is ineffable and incomprehensible by the projecting energies of the human intellect; but is alone known to the Gods themselves. And I indeed admire those Platonists that attribute to intellect the knowledge of all things, of individuals, of things preternatural, and in short, of evils, and on this account establish intellectual paradigms of these. But I much more admire those who separate the intellectual peculiarity from divine union. For intellect is the first fabrication and progeny of the Gods. These therefore assign to intellect whole and first causes, and such as are according to nature, and to the Gods a power which is capable of adorning and generating all things. For the one is every where, but whole is not every where. And of the one indeed matter participates and every being; but of intellect and intellectual species and genera, all things do not participate. All things therefore are alone from the Gods, and real truth is with them who know all things unically. For on this account also, in oracles the Gods similarly teach all things, wholes and parts, things eternal, and such as are generated through the whole of time. For being exempt from eternal beings, and from those that exist in time, they contract in themselves the knowledge of each and of all things, according to one united truth.

If therefore any falsehood occurs in the oracles of the Gods, we must not say that a thing of this kind originates from the Gods, but from the recipients, or the instruments, or the places, or the times. For all these contribute to the participation of divine knowledge, and when they are appropriately co-adapted to the Gods, they receive a pure illumination of the truth which is established in them. But when they are separated from the Gods through inaptitude, and become discordant with them, then they obscure the truth which proceeds from them. What kind of falsehood therefore can be said to be derived from the Gods, who produce all the species of knowledge? What deception can there be with those who establish in themselves the whole of truth? In the same manner, as it appears to me, the Gods extend good to all things, but always that which is willing and able receives the extended good, as Socrates says in the Phædrus. And a divine nature indeed is causeless of evil, but that which departs from it, and gravitates downward, is elongated through itself; thus also, the Gods indeed are always the suppliers of truth, but those natures are illuminated by them, who are lawfully their participants. For the Elean wise man says, that the eye of the soul in the multitude, is not strong enough to look to the truth.

The Athenian guest also celebrates this truth which subsists primarily in the Gods; for he says that truth is the leader to the Gods of every good, and likewise of every good to men. For as the truth which is in souls conjoins them with intellect, and as intellectual truth conducts all the intellectual orders to the one, thus also the truth of the Gods unites the divine unities to the fountain of all good, with which being conjoined, they are filled with all boniform power. For every where the hyparxis of truth has a cause which is collective of multitude into one; since in the Republic also, the light proceeding from the good, and which conjoins intellect with the intelligible, is denominated by Plato’s truth. This characteristic property therefore, which unites and binds together the natures that fill and the natures that are filled, according to all the orders of the Gods, must be arranged as originating supernally and proceeding as far as to the last of things.

To us however discussing what pertains to every divine nature, what we assert will be known from those commonly received truths adduced in the Phædrus, and which we have before mentioned. Socrates therefore says that every thing divine is beautiful, wise, and good,[126] and he indicates that this triad pervades to all the progressions of the Gods. What therefore is the goodness, what the wisdom, and what the beauty of the Gods? With respect to the goodness of the Gods therefore, we have before observed, that it preserves and gives subsistence to the whole of things, that it every where exists as the summit, as that which fills subordinate natures, and as pre-existing in every order analogous to the first principle of the divine orders. For according to this all the Gods are conjoined with the one cause of all things, and on account of this primarily derive their subsistence as Gods. For in all beings there is not any thing more perfect than the good, and the Gods. To the most excellent of beings therefore, and which are in every respect perfect, the best and most perfect of things is adapted.

But in the Philebus, Plato delivers to us the three most principal elements of the good, viz. the desirable, the sufficient, and the perfect. For it is necessary that it should convert all things to itself, and fill all things, and that it should be in no respect deficient, and should not diminish its exuberance. Let no one therefore conceive the desirable to be such as that which is frequently extended in sensibles as the object of appetite. For such is apparent beauty. Nor let him suppose it to be such as is indeed able to energize upon and excite to itself the natures which are able to participate it, but which at the same time may be apprehended by intelligence, and is educed by us according to a projecting energy, and an adhesion of the dianoetic power. For it is ineffable, and prior to all knowledge extends to all beings. For all things desire the good, and are converted to it. But if it be requisite summarily to unfold the characteristic peculiarity of the desirable, as the supplier of light proceeds by his rays into secondary natures, converts the eye to himself, causes it to be solar-form, and to resemble himself, and through a different similitude conjoins it with his own fulgid splendour, thus also I think the desirable of the Gods allures and draws upward all things to the Gods in an ineffable manner by its own proper illuminations, being every where present to all things, and not deserting any order whatever of beings.

Since even matter itself is said to be extended to this desirable, and through this desire is filled with as many goods as it is able to participate. It is therefore the centre of all beings, and all beings, and all the Gods have their essences, powers and energies about this. And the extension and desire of things towards this is inextinguishable. For all beings aspire after this desirable which is unknown and incomprehensible. Not being able therefore either to know or receive that which they desire, they dance round it, and are parturient and as it were prophetic with respect to it. But they have an unceasing and never-ending desire of its unknown and ineffable nature, at the same time that they are unable to embrace and embosom it. For being at once exempt from all things, it is similarly present to and moves all things about itself, and is at the same time by all of them incomprehensible. By this motion also and this desire it preserves all things. But by its unknown transcendency through which it surpasses the whole of things, it preserves its proper union unmingled with secondary natures. Such therefore is the desirable.

But the sufficient is full of boniform power, proceeds to all things, and extends to all beings the gifts of the Gods. For we conceive such a sufficiency as this to be a power pervading and protending to the last of things, extending the unenvying and exuberant will of the Gods, and not abiding in itself, but unically comprehending the super-plenitude, the never-failing, the infinite, and that which is generative of good in the divine hyparxis. For the desirable being firmly established, and surpassing the whole of things, and arranging all beings about itself, the sufficient begins the progression and multiplication of all good, calls forth that which is primary in the uniform hyparxis of the desirable, by its own prolific[127] exuberance, and by the beneficent replenishings which pervade to all things, and copiously produces and imparts it to every being. It is owing to the sufficient therefore, that the stability of divine natures, and that which proceeds from its proper causes is full of goodness, and that, in short, all beings are benefited, abiding in, proceeding from, and being united to their principles, and essentially separated from them. Through this power therefore, the intellectual genera give subsistence to natures similar to themselves, souls desire to generate, and imitate the beings prior to souls, natures deliver their productive principles into another place, and all things possess, in short, the love of generation. For the sufficiency of the goodness of the Gods, proceeding from this goodness, is disseminated in all beings, and moves all things to the unenvying communication of good; intellect indeed to the communication of intellectual, but soul of psychical, and nature of natural good.

All things therefore abide through the desirable of goodness, and generate and proceed into second and third generations through the sufficient. But the third thing, the perfect, is convertive of the whole of things, and circularly collects them to their causes; and this is accomplished by divine, intellectual, psychical and physical perfection. For all things participate of conversion, since the infinity of progression is through this again recalled to its principles; and the perfect is mingled from the desirable and sufficient. For every thing of this kind is the object of desire, and is generative of things similar to itself. Or in the works of nature also, are not perfect things every where lovely and prolific through the acme of their beauty? The desirable therefore establishes all things, and comprehends them in itself. The sufficient excites them into progressions and generations. And the perfect consummately leads progressions to conversions and convolutions. But through these three causes, the goodness of the Gods fixing the unical power and authority of its proper hypostasis in this triad, is the primary and most principal fountain and vestal seat of things which have any kind of subsistence whatever.

After this, wisdom is allotted the second order, being the intelligence of the Gods, or rather the hyparxis of their intelligence. For intelligence indeed, is intellectual knowledge; but the wisdom of the Gods is ineffable knowledge, which is united to the object of knowledge and the intelligible union of the Gods. But it appears to me that Plato especially surveyed this in the triad [of the beautiful, the wise and the good,] as may be inferred from the conceptions scattered about it in many places. I say then that Diotima in the Banquet is of opinion that wisdom is full of that which is known, and that it neither seeks, nor investigates, but possesses the intelligible. Hence, she says, that no one of the Gods philosophizes, nor desires to become wise; for a God is wise. Hence that which is philosophic is imperfect, and indigent of truth; but that which is wise is full and unindigent, and has every thing present which it wishes and desires nothing. But the desirable and the appetible are proposed to the philosopher. Socrates, however, in the Republic considers that which is generative of truth and intellect, as affording an indication of wisdom, to our souls indeed the ascent to divine plenitude being accomplished through knowledge,[128] but to the Gods intellect being present from the fulness of knowledge.[129] For the progression in them is not from an imperfect habit to the perfect; but from a self-perfect hyparxis a power prolific of inferior natures proceeds.

But in the Theætetus he indicates that the perfective of things imperfect, and that which calls forth concealed intelligence in souls, pertain to wisdom. For he says, it compels me to obstetrication, but prevents me from generating. It is evident therefore, from these things, that the genus of wisdom is triadic. Hence it is full of being and truth, is generative of intellectual truth, and is perfective of intellectual natures that are in energy, and itself possesses a stable power. We must admit therefore, that these things pertain to the wisdom of the Gods. For this wisdom is full indeed of divine goodness, generates divine truth, and perfects all things posterior to itself.

In the next place let us consider the beautiful, what it is, and how it primarily subsists in the Gods. It is said therefore to be boniform beauty, and intelligible beauty, to be more ancient than intellectual beauty, and to be beauty itself, and the cause of beauty to all beings; and all such like epithets. And it is rightly said. But it is separate not only from the beauty which is apparent in corporeal masses, from the symmetry which is in these from psychical elegance, and intellectual splendour, but also from the second and third progressions in the Gods; and subsisting in the intelligible place of survey, it proceeds from this to all the genera of the Gods, and illuminates their superessential unities, and all the essences suspended from these unities, as far as to the apparent vehicles of the Gods. As therefore through the first goodness all the Gods are boniform, and through intelligible wisdom they have a knowledge ineffable, and established above intellect, thus also, I think, through the summit of beauty, every thing divine is lovely. For from thence all the Gods derive beauty, and being filled with it, fill the natures posterior to themselves, exciting all things, agitating them with Bacchic fury about the love of themselves, and pouring supernally on all things the divine effluxion of beauty.

Such therefore, in short, is divine beauty, the supplier of divine hilarity, familiarity and friendship. For through this the Gods are united to and rejoice in each other, admire, and are delighted in communicating with each other, and in their mutual replenishings, and do not desert the order which they are always allotted in the distributions of themselves. Plato also delivers three indications of this beauty, in the Banquet indeed, denominating it the delicate; for the perfect and that which is most blessed, accedes to the beautiful through the participation of goodness. But he this speaks of it in that dialogue: “That which is truly beautiful, is delicate, perfect and most blessed.” One of the indications therefore of the beautiful, is a thing of this kind, viz. the delicate. But we may assume another indication of it from the Phædrus, viz. the splendid. For Plato attributing this to the beautiful says: “It was then that we were permitted to see splendid beauty shining upon us &c.” And afterwards he adds: “And arriving hither we apprehended it shining most manifestly through the clearest of the senses.” And at last he says: “But now beauty alone has this allotment to be most splendid and most lovely.” These two things therefore are to be assumed as indications of beauty. Another indication of beauty is this, that it is the object of love, which now also Plato appears to me to have called most lovely. And in many other places he shows that the amatory fury is conversant with the beautiful, defining, and in short, suspending love from the monad of beauty. “For love, says he, is conversant with the beautiful.”

Because, therefore, beauty converts and moves all things to itself, causes them to energize enthusiastically, and recalls them through love, it is the object of love, being the leader of the whole amatory series, walking on the extremities of its feet, and exciting all things to itself through desire and astonishment. But again because it extends to secondary natures plenitudes from itself, in conjunction with hilarity and divine facility, alluring, enflaming, and elevating all things, and pouring on them illuminations from on high, it is delicate, and is said to be so by Plato. And because it bounds this triad, and covers as with a veil the ineffable union of the Gods, swims as it were on the light of forms, causes intelligible light to shine forth, and announces the occult nature of goodness, it is denominated splendid, lucid and manifest. For the goodness of the Gods is supreme and most united; their wisdom is in a certain respect now parturient with intelligible light, and the first forms; but their beauty is established in the highest forms, is the luminous precursor of divine light, and is the first thing that is apparent to ascending souls, being more splendid and more lovely to the view and to embrace than every luciferous essence, and when it appears is received with astonishment. This triad therefore filling all things, and proceeding through all things, it is certainly necessary that the natures which are filled should be converted to and conjoined with each of the three through kindred, and not through the same media.

For of different things that are filled by this triad there is a different medium; and different powers are converted to a different perfection of the Gods. I think therefore, it is manifest to every one, and it is frequently asserted by Plato, that the cause which congregates all secondary natures to divine beauty, which familiarizes them to it and is the source of their being filled with it, and of their derivation from thence, is nothing else than love, which always conjoins according to the beautiful, secondary to the first[130] Gods, and the more excellent genera, and the best of souls. But again, truth is certainly the leader to, and establishes beings in, divine wisdom, with which intellect being filled, possesses a knowledge of beings, and souls participating of this energize intellectually. For the full participation of true wisdom is effected through truth, since this every where illuminates intellective natures, and conjoins them with the objects of intellection, just as truth also is the first thing that congregates intellect and the intelligible. To those however who hasten to be conjoined with the good, knowledge and co-operation are no longer requisite, but collocation, a firm establishment and quiet are necessary.

What therefore is it which unites us to the good? What is it which causes in us a cessation of energy and motion? What is it which establishes all divine natures in the first and ineffable unity of goodness? And how does it come to pass that every thing being established in that which is prior to itself according to the good which is in itself, again establishes things posterior to itself according to cause? It is, in short, the faith of the Gods, which ineffably unites all the genera of the Gods, of dæmons, and of happy souls to the good. For it is necessary to investigate the good neither gnostically, nor imperfectly, but giving ourselves up to the divine light, and closing the eyes of the soul, after this manner to become established in the unknown and occult unity of beings. For such a kind of faith as this is more ancient than the gnostic energy, not in us only, but with the Gods themselves, and according to this all the Gods are united, and about one centre uniformly collect the whole of their powers and progressions. If however it be requisite to give a particular definition of this faith, let no one suppose that it is such a kind of faith as that which is conversant with the wandering about sensibles. For this falls short of science, and much more of the truth of beings. But the faith of the Gods surpasses all knowledge, and according to the highest union conjoins secondary with first natures.

Nor again, let him conceive a faith of a similar species with the celebrated belief in common conceptions; for we believe in common conceptions prior to all reasoning. But the knowledge of these is divisible, and is by no means equivalent to divine union; and the science of these is not only posterior to faith, but also to intellectual simplicity. For intellect is established beyond all science, both the first science, and that which is posterior to it. Neither, therefore, must we say that the energy according to intellect is similar to such a faith as this. For intellectual energy is multiform, and is separated from the objects of intellection through difference; and in short, it is intellectual motion about the intelligible. But it is necessary that divine faith should be uniform and quiet, being perfectly established in the port of goodness. For neither is the beautiful, nor wisdom, nor any thing else among beings, so credible and stable to all things, and so exempt from all ambiguity, divisible apprehension and motion, as the good. For through this intellect also embraces another union more ancient than intellectual energy, and prior to energy. And soul considers the variety of intellect and the splendour of forms as nothing with respect to that transcendency of the good by which it surpasses the whole of things. And it dismisses indeed intellectual perception, running back to its own hyparxis; but it always pursues, investigates, and aspires after the good, hastens as it were to embosom it, and gives itself to this alone among all things without hesitation.

But why is it necessary to speak of the soul? For these mortal animals, as Diotima somewhere says, despise all other things, and even life itself and being, through a desire of the nature of the good; and all things have this one immoveable and ineffable tendency to the good; but they overlook, consider as secondary, and despise the order of every thing else. This, therefore, is the one secure port of all beings.

This also is especially the object of belief to all beings. And through this the conjunction and union with it is denominated faith by theologists, and not by them only, but by Plato likewise, (if I may speak what appears to me to be the case) the alliance of this faith with truth and love is proclaimed in the Laws. The multitude therefore are ignorant, that he who has a conception of these things, when discoursing about their contraries, infers the same thing with respect to the deviations from this triad. Plato then clearly asserts in the Laws that the lover of falsehood is not to be believed, and that he who is not to be believed is void of friendship. Hence it is necessary that the lover of truth should be worthy of belief, and that he who is worthy of belief should be well adapted to friendship. From these things therefore, we may survey divine truth, faith and love, and comprehend by a reasoning process their stable communion with each other. If, however, you are willing, prior to these things we will recall to our memory that Plato denominates that virtue fidelity which conciliates those that disagree, and subverts the greatest of wars, I mean seditions in cities. For from these things faith appears to be the cause of union, communion and quiet. And if there is such a power as this in us, it is by a much greater priority in the Gods themselves.

For as Plato speaks of a certain divine temperance, justice and science, how is it possible that faith which connectedly comprehends the whole order of the virtues should not subsist with the Gods? In short, there are these three things which replenish divine natures, and which are the sources of plenitude to all the superior genera of beings, viz. goodness, wisdom and beauty. And again, there are three things which collect together the natures that are filled, being secondary indeed to the former, but pervading to all the divine orders, and these are faith, truth and love. But all things are saved through these, and are conjoined to their primary causes; some things indeed, through the amatory mania, others through divine philosophy, and others through theurgic power, which is more excellent than all human wisdom, and which comprehends prophetic good, the purifying powers of perfective good, and in short, all such things as are the effects of divine possession. Concerning these things therefore, we may perhaps again speak more opportunely.

Again, let us, if you are willing, from other dialogues investigate the common dogmas of Plato about divine natures. Whence therefore, and what dogmas shall we assume, while we proceed in our search according to nature? Are you willing that we should in the next place recall to our memory what is written in the Phædo? Socrates therefore says in the demonstrations of the immortality of the soul which are derived from its similitude to divinity, that the essence which is superior to the soul, (and to which the soul is naturally similar, and being similar participates of an immortal allotment) is divine and immortal, intelligible and uniform, indissoluble and possesses an invariable sameness of subsistence; but that the essence which is inferior to the soul, is entirely the contrary, to which also it pertains to be corrupted and to be passive. For a thing of this kind is sensible and multiform, and is dissoluble because it is a composite; and he predicates among these all such things as pertain to a corporeal subsistence. Let us therefore direct our attention to these common dogmas, and examine after what manner each of them pertains to the Gods. In the first place then what is that which we look to when we speak of that which is said to be divine? From what has been said therefore, it is evident that every God subsists according to the highest union of beings. For to us ascending from bodies, the Gods have appeared to be superessential unities, the generators, perfectors and measurers of essences, and who bind all first essences to themselves.

But that which is divine, is not only hyparxis and the one in each order of being, but at the same time is that which participates and that which is participated; of which the latter is a God, but the former is divine. Whether however, prior to the participated unities, there is something which is separate and participated will be evident in what follows. But at present we shall define that which is divine to be a thing of this kind, viz. being which participates of the one, or the one subsisting contractedly together with being. For we assume all things in the Gods except the one, as suspended from them and secondary, viz. essence, life and intellect. For the Gods do not subsist in, but prior to these, and they produce and contain these in themselves, but are not defined in them. But it is necessary not to be ignorant that these are in reality thus distinguished from each other. In many places, however, Plato magnificently celebrates the participants of the Gods by the same names, and denominates them Gods. For not only the Athenian guest in the Laws calls a divine soul a God, but also Socrates in the Phædrus. For he says “that all the horses and charioteers of the Gods are good and consist of things good;” and afterwards still more clearly, “and this is the life of the Gods.” But this is not yet wonderful.

For is it not admirable that he should denominate those beings Gods who are always conjoined with the Gods, and who together with them give completion to one series? For in many places he calls dæmons Gods, though they are essentially posterior to, and subsist about the Gods. For in the Phædrus and Timæus, and in other dialogues, you will find him extending the appellation of the Gods even as far as to dæmons. But what is still more paradoxical than these things, he does not refuse to call certain men Gods; for in the Sophista he thus denominates the Elean guest.

From all that has been said therefore, this must be assumed, that with respect to a God, one thing is simply a God, another according to union, another according to participation, another according to contact, and another according to similitude. For of superessential natures indeed, each is primarily a God; of intellectual natures, each is a God according to union; and of divine souls, each is a God according to participation. But divine dæmons are Gods according to contact with the Gods; and the souls of men are allotted this appellation through similitude. Each of these however is, as we have said, rather divine than a God. Since the Athenian guest calls intellect itself divine; but that which is divine is posterior to the first deity, in the same manner as that which is united is posterior to the one, that which is intellectual, to intellect, and that which is animated, to soul. And always those natures that are more uniform and simple have the precedency; but the series of beings ends in the one itself. Let this, therefore, be the definition and distinction of that which is divine. In the next place, let us survey the immortal. For with Plato there are many orders of immortality, pervading from on high as far as to the last of things; and the last echo, as it were, of immortality, is in those visible natures that are perpetual; which the Elean guest, in his discourse about the circulation of the universe, says, are allotted from the father a renovated immortality.

For every body is allotted a being and a life dependent on another cause; but is not itself naturally adapted to connect, or adorn, or preserve itself. The immortality of partial souls is, I think, more manifest and more perfect than this; which Plato evinces by many demonstrations in the Phædo, and in the 10th book of the Republic. But I mean by the immortality of partial souls, that which has a more principal subsistence, as containing in itself the cause of eternal permanency. We shall not, however, err if prior to both these we establish the immortality of dæmons. For the genera of these through which they subsist are incorruptible, and they neither verge to mortality, nor are filled with the nature of things which are generated and corrupted. But I infer that the immortality of divine souls is still more venerable and essentially more transcendent than that of dæmons; which divine souls we say are primarily self-motive, and are the fountains and principles of the life divided about bodies, and through which bodies obtain a renovated immortality. If, however, prior to these you conceive the Gods themselves, and the immortality in them, and how in the Banquet Diotima does not attribute an immortality of this kind even to dæmons, but defines it to subsist in the Gods alone, such an immortality as this will appear to you to be separate, and exempt from the whole of things. For there eternity subsists, which is the fountain of all immortality, and through it all things live and possess life, some things indeed a perpetual life, but others a life dispersed into non-being. In short, therefore, that which is divine is immortal so far as it generates and comprehends in itself a perpetual life. For it is immortal, not as participating of life, but as the supplier of a divine life, and as deifying life itself, whether you are willing to call such a life intelligible, or by any other name.

In the next place let us direct our attention to the intelligible. It is denominated, therefore, in opposition to that which is sensible and which is apprehended by opinion in conjunction with sense. For the intelligible is first unfolded into light in the most principal causes. For soul is indeed intelligible, is of this allotment, is exempt from sensibles, and obtains an essence separated from them. Prior to soul also intellect is intelligible, for we rather think it fit to arrange soul in the middle, than to connumerate it with the first essences. That likewise is denominated intelligible, which is more ancient than intellect, which replenishes intelligence, and is itself by itself perfective of it, and which Timæus arranges prior to the demiurgic intellect and intellectual energy, in the order of a paradigm. But beyond these is the divine intelligible, which is defined according to union itself, and a divine hyparxis. For this is intelligible as the object of desire to intellect, as perfecting and comprehending intellect, and as the plenitude of being. In one way, therefore, we must denominate the intelligible as the hyparxis of the Gods; in another way as true being and the first essence; in another way as intellect and all intellectual life; and in another way as soul and the psychical order. It is likewise necessary not to fashion the different natures of things conformably to names. Such, therefore, is the order of this triad; so that what is divine indeed is unmingled and ranks as the first; that which is immortal is the second; and that which is intelligible the third. For the first of these is deified being; the second is life subsisting according to the immortality of the Gods; and the third is intellect, which is denominated intelligible in consequence of being replete with union.

After this, it follows in the next place, that we should consider the uniform, the indissoluble, and that which has an invariable sameness of subsistence, from the same causes, and these as the precursors of, and pervading through all the divine orders. For the uniform, indeed, has the highest subsistence, is present with the divine monad, and appears to be especially adapted to that which is primarily being,[131] and in which also every participable genus of unities ends. For the one is prior to these, as will be evident as we proceed. But the indissoluble is the second. For it comprehends and binds the extremes according to divine union; since the dissoluble is such as it is through the want of connexion and of a power which collects multitude into one. And that which has an invariable sameness of subsistence is eternal, and is full of the perpetuity of the Gods; from which also the participation of immortality and eternal sameness is derived to other things. The uniform, therefore, pertains to the same thing as the divine; but the indissoluble to the same thing as the immortal; and that which has an invariable sameness of subsistence we must refer to the intelligible.

And do you not see how these are severally after a manner co-adapted to each other? For the first of these, through the first unity which is participated by being is, as it is fit it should be, uniform. For if a God subsists according to the one, that which is divine will doubtless be uniform. But that which through one cause of life is immortal, is also similarly indissoluble. For life is the bond of dissoluble natures; which also Timæus indicating to us, opposes the dissoluble to the immortal: “for you are not immortal, says the demiurgus, yet you shall never be dissolved, nor be subject[132] to the fatality of death.” Every thing mortal, therefore, is dissoluble; but the immortal is indissoluble. That, however, which has a renovated immortality is for the same reason neither indissoluble, nor mortal. For being in the middle of both it is neither of the extremes, according to each opposition. But the third of these being established according to the plenitude of whole intelligibles subsists at once and is invariably the same. For the intelligible is the cause of sameness and of eternal permanency; and intellect through this is entirely eternal. These triads, therefore, proceed from the first and most principal causes, in the same manner as we demonstrated of the before-mentioned triads. But these things, indeed, we shall consider hereafter.

These things, therefore, being discussed, let us direct our attention to the unbegotten in divine natures, and unfold what we assert it to be. For we say that all [true] being is without generation, and Socrates demonstrates in the Phædrus, that souls are unbegotten. Prior to these, also, the Gods themselves are established above generations and a subsistence according to time. How, therefore, shall we define the unbegotten when applied to a divine nature, and according to what reason? Is it because divinity is exempt from all generation, not only from that which subsists in the parts of time, such as we assert the generation of material natures to be, nor from that only which is extended into the whole of time, such as Timæus demonstrates the generation of the celestial bodies to be, but also from the psychical generation? Since Timæus denominates this to be unbegotten according to time, but to be the best of generated natures. And in short, a divine nature is exempt from all division and essential separation. For the progression of the Gods is always according to a union of secondary natures, which are uniformly established in the natures prior to them, the things producing containing in themselves the things produced. The indivisible, therefore, the unseparated and the united are in reality unbegotten. So that if certain generations of the Gods are spoken of by Plato in fabulous figments, as in the fable of Diotima, the generation of Venus is celebrated, and of Love at the birth of Venus, it is necessary not to be ignorant after what manner things of this kind are asserted, and that they are composed for the sake of symbolical indication;

and that fables for the sake of concealment call the ineffable unfolding into light through causes, generation. For in the Orphic writings, indeed, the first cause is on this account denominated Time; since again, for another reason, it is thus denominated, in order that a subsistence according to cause may be the same as a subsistence according to time. And the progression of the Gods from the best of causes is properly denominated generation according to time. To Plato, therefore, mythologizing, it is adapted to devise things of this kind conformably to theologists; but when he is discoursing dialectically, and investigating and unfolding divine natures intellectually and not mystically, it is then adapted to him to celebrate the unbegotten essence of the Gods. For the Gods primarily establish in themselves the paradigm of non-generation. But an intellectual nature is in a secondary degree unbegotten, and after this the psychical essence. And in bodies there is an ultimate resemblance of unbegotten power; which some posterior to Plato perceiving, have indefinitely shown that the whole heaven is unbegotten. The Gods, therefore, are unbegotten. But there is an order in them of first, middle, and last progressions, and a transcendency and subjection of powers. There are also in them uniform comprehensions of causes; but multiform progenies of things caused. And all things, indeed, are consubsistent in each other; but the mode of subsistence is various. For some things as replenishing subsist prior to secondary natures; but others, as being filled aspire after more perfect natures, and participating of their power become generative of things posterior to themselves, and perfective of their hyparxis.

Looking to these things, therefore, we may unfold what is said of paternal causes, and of the prolific powers of mothers in fables. For every where, we may suppose that the cause of a more excellent and more uniform nature is paternal;[133] but we may say that the cause of a more subordinate and partial nature preexists in the order of a mother. For with the Gods a father is analogous to the monad, and the cause of bound; but a mother, to the duad, and to the infinite power which is generative of beings. The paternal cause, however, is with Plato uniform, and is established in a more elevated order than the natures which proceed from it, and subsists prior to its progeny in the allotment of the desirable. Again, the maternal cause has the form of the duad; and at one time presents itself to the view in fables as more excellent than its progeny, but at another time as essentially subordinate to it; as in the Banquet, Plato calls Poverty the mother of Love. And this is not only the case in fabulous figments, but also in the philosophic theory of beings, as is evident in the Timæus. For there Plato calls being the father, but matter the mother and nurse of generation. The powers, therefore, which are prolific and perfective of secondary natures, and the suppliers of life and causes of separation are mothers, being established above the natures produced by them.

But the powers which receive the natures that proceed into light, which multiply their energies, and extend even the subordinate allotment of the progeny, are also themselves called mothers. Again, however, the progeny of such like causes, at one time indeed, proceed according to union from their proper principles, and are filled from both the paternal and maternal cause; but at another time they contain the bond of them, being arranged in the middle, conveying the gifts of the fathers to the maternal bosoms, and converting the receptacles of them to the completions of primary causes. But of the natures which subsist from twofold preexisting principles, some are assimilated to the paternal cause; and such like genera of Gods are productive, defensive, and comprehensive. For to produce, to contain, and to defend, pertain to the cause of bound. But others are assimilated to the maternal cause, and are prolific, and vivific, and the suppliers of motion, of the multiplication of powers, of variety and progressions. For all these are the progeny of infinity and the first multitude.

Thus much therefore may suffice concerning the unbegotten hyparxis of the Gods. It now remains, I think, to speak of divine names. For Socrates in the Cratylus thinks fit to unfold in a remarkable degree the rectitude of names in divine natures. And Parmenides indeed, in the first hypothesis, as he denies of the one every thing else that is known, and all knowledge, so likewise he denies of it name and language. But in the second hypothesis, besides all other things he shows that this one may be spoken of and[134] that it has a name. In short therefore, it must be admitted that the first, most principal and truly divine names are established in the Gods themselves. But it must be said that the second names, which are the imitations of the first, and which subsist intellectually, are of a dæmoniacal allotment. And again, we may say that those names which are the third from the truth, which are logically devised, and which receive the ultimate resemblance of divine natures, are unfolded by scientific men, at one time energizing divinely, and at another intellectually, and generating moving images of their inward spectacles. For as the demiurgic intellect establishes resemblances about matter of the first forms contained in himself, and produces temporal images of things eternal, divisible images of things indivisible, and adumbrated images as it were of true beings, - after the same manner I think the science that is with us representing intellectual production, fabricates resemblances of other things, and also of the Gods themselves, representing that which is void of composition in them, through composition;

that which is simple, through variety; and that which is united, through multitude; and thus fashioning names, ultimately exhibits images of divine natures. For it generates every name as if it were a statue of the Gods. And as the theurgic art through certain symbols calls forth the exuberant and unenvying goodness of the Gods into the illumination of artificial statues, thus also the intellectual science of divine concerns, by the compositions and divisions of sounds, unfolds the occult essence of the Gods. Very properly therefore, does Socrates in the Philebus say, that on account of his reverence of the Gods, he is agitated with the greatest fear respecting their names. For it is necessary to venerate even the ultimate echos of the Gods, and venerating these to become established in the first paradigms of them. And thus much concerning divine names, which at present may be sufficient for the purpose of understanding the theology of Plato. For we shall accurately discuss them when we speak of partial powers.

The most proper beginning however of the theory proposed by us is that from which we may be able to discover the first cause[135] of all beings. For being impelled from this in a becoming manner, and having our conceptions purified respecting it, we shall with greater facility be able to distinguish other things. About these things therefore we must speak from the beginning as follows: It is necessary that all beings, and all the natures of beings should either be many only, there being no one in them, neither in each, nor in all of them; or that they should be one only, there being no multitude, but all things being compelled into one and the same power of existence; or it is necessary that they should be both one and many, and that being should be one in order that neither multitude itself by itself may vanquish beings, nor that we may be forced to bring together into the same thing all things and their contraries at once. These things therefore being three, which of them shall we chuse? And to which of the above mentioned assertions shall we give our suffrage. It is necessary therefore severally to discuss the absurdities which attend these positions, and thus to survey after what manner the truth subsists.

If then beings are many, and in such a manner many, as we have mentioned from the beginning, so that the one is not any where to be found, many absurdities will happen to be the result, or rather all the nature of beings will at once from the first be destroyed, as there will immediately be nothing which is capable of participating the one. For it must be admitted that every being is either one certain thing, or nothing. And that indeed which is a certain being, is also one; but that which is not even one being, has not any existence whatever. Hence, if many things have a subsistence, each of the many is something or a certain one. But if each of them is nothing, or not even one thing, neither is it possible for the many to exist; for the many are many so far as each individual of the multitude exists. If, therefore, the many alone have a subsistence, and the one in no respect is, neither will the many exist. For things which are in no respect one have not any existence whatever. But if the one is not, by a much greater priority neither have the many an existence. For it necessarily follows that none of the things from which the many consist will have a subsistence.

Farther still, if the many alone have a subsistence (as has been said) all things will be infinitely infinite; and if you receive any one of the infinites whatever, this also will be immediately infinite. And with respect to the things from which this consists and which are infinite, each of these likewise will be infinite. For let something of the many be assumed, which we say is not one, this therefore will be multitude according to its own nature, since it belongs to beings, but is not nothing. If however it is multitude, this also will consist of many things, and will be many. And if you assume something of these manys, this will immediately appear to you not to be one, but many. There will likewise be immediately the same reasoning in these, and in a similar manner each, (because we falsely speak of each) will be multitude in energy. And each, as I may say, will be infinite, or rather will be infinitely infinite. For there is nothing which will not be something of this kind; since a part is many, and in a similar manner the part of a part; and this to infinity. For multitude proceeding will never stop, nor infinity, in consequence of being deprived of the nature of the one. To make beings however, to be infinitely infinite, is impossible both with respect to truth, and to the thing proposed by us. For if being is infinitely infinite, being can neither be known, nor discovered;

since the infinite is entirely incomprehensible and unknown. If also being is infinitely infinite, there will be something more infinite than the infinite. But if that something is more infinite, this will be less infinite. That, however, which is less infinite; since it is not perfectly infinite, will evidently be finite, so far as it falls short of the nature of the infinite. If, therefore, there is something which is itself according to multitude more infinite than that which is infinite in multitude there will be something more than the infinite, and the infinite will be less, yet not according to multitude. This however is impossible. Hence there is not the infinitely infinite.

Again therefore, according to this hypothesis, the same things will be according to the same, similar and dissimilar. For if all the manys are not one, and each thing according to all things is not one, that which is not one will evidently suffer the same passion in consequence of the privation of the one. All things therefore being deprived of the one, after the same manner, they will on this account subsist similarly with respect to each other. But things which subsist similarly, so far as they thus subsist, are evidently similar to each other. Hence the many will be similar to each other, so far as they are deprived of the one. They will likewise according to this privation of the one be perfectly dissimilar. For it is necessary that things which are similar should suffer the same passion; so that things which do not suffer any thing that is the same, will not be similar. But things which suffer any thing that is the same, suffer also one thing. Hence things which are deprived of every one, will not suffer any thing that is the same. The many therefore will be similar and dissimilar according to the same. But this is impossible. Hence it is impossible for the many to exist which are in no respect one.

Moreover, the many will be the same with and different from each other according to the same. For if all things are similarly deprived of the one, so far indeed as all of them are similarly deprived they will be the same according to this privation; since things which subsist after the same manner according to habit are the same, and also things which are after the same manner deprived according to privation. But so far in short, as each of them is deprived of every one, so far the many will be different from each other. For if the one in the many is the same, that which is in no respect one, will in no respect be the same. The many therefore will be the same and not the same with each other. But if they are the same and not the same it is evident that they are different from each other. For that which is the same and not the same, so far as it is not the same, is not the same, by nothing else than the different. Farther still therefore, these many will be moveable and immoveable, if the one is not. For if each of them is not one, they will be immoveable according to the privation of the one. For if that which is not one should be changed, each of them would have the one; since privations being changed, entirely lead into habits the things that are changed.

It is necessary however that what is not one should remain immoveable according to the privation of the one, though this very thing is itself impossible, viz. that the many should stand still. For every thing which stands still is in something which is the same, viz. it is either in the same form, or in the same place. But every thing which is in the same, is in one thing which is the same. For the same in which it is, is one thing. Every thing therefore which stands still is in one thing. The many, however, do not participate of the one. But it is perfectly impossible that things which do not participate of the one, should be in one certain thing. And things which are not in one thing cannot stand still, since things which stand still are entirely in one and the same thing. It is impossible therefore, that the many should stand still, and remain immoveable. It has been demonstrated however, that the many must necessarily stand immoveable. The same things therefore, and the same passion, (I mean the privation of the habit of the one,) are moveable and immoveable. For things immoveable, and things which stand still, so far as they are unstable, so far they must necessarily appear to be moveable.

Moreover, there is no number of beings if the one in no respect is; but all things and each thing will be not one. For the particle of number, the monad, is one, and every number itself is one. For if there are five monads, there is also the pentad; and if three monads, the triad. But the triad itself is a certain unity, and so is the pentad. So that if there is no one, there will neither be any part, nor the whole of numbers. For how can there be any number the one not existing? For the one is the principle of numbers. But the principle not existing, neither is it possible that the things which proceed from this principle should exist. Hence the one not existing, neither will there be any number. Again, therefore, neither will there be any knowledge of beings if the one is not. For it will not be possible either to speak or think of any being. For each thing itself, and every thing of which we can speak, and in which we impress the nature of the one, will have no existence, because neither does the one exist. Hence neither will there be any discourse nor any knowledge. For discourse is one thing consisting of many things, if it is perfect. And knowledge then exists, when that which knows becomes one with that which is known. But union not existing, there will at the same time be no knowledge of things, and it will be impossible to speak about things which we know.

To which we may add, that the inexplicable in the several infinites, will necessarily always fly from the bound of knowledge. For immediately each apparent infinite which he who possesses knowledge desires to understand, will escape the gnostic power hastening to come into contact with, and adhere to it, since it is incapable either of contact or adhesion. If, therefore, the many alone have an existence, the one having no subsistence whatever, so many absurdities, and a still greater number must necessarily happen to those who adopt such an hypothesis.

But if the one which is the one itself alone has a subsistence, and there is nothing else (for if there were there would not only be one but many things; since one and another thing are more than one, and are not one thing only) if this be the case, there will neither be among all things either whole, or that which has parts. For every thing which has parts is many, and every whole has parts. But the one is in no respect many. Neither therefore will there be a whole, nor that which has parts. Farther still, neither is it possible that there should be a beginning, or end of any thing. For that which has a beginning, a middle, and an end, is divisible. But the one is not divisible, because neither has it any parts. Hence, neither has it a beginning, nor a middle, nor an end. Again, if the one alone has a subsistence, no being will have figure. For every thing which has figure is either rectilinear or circular, or mixt from these. But if indeed it is rectilinear, it will have for its parts, the middle, and the extremes. If it is circular, there will be one thing in it as a middle, but other things as extremes, to which the middle extends. And if it is mixed from the right and circular line, it will consist of many things, and will not be one.

Moreover, neither will any being be in itself, nor in another thing. For that which is in another thing is different from that in which it is. But the one alone existing and nothing else (for it will by no means be in another thing) there will be no being which is in another thing. But that which is in itself will at the same time comprehend and be comprehended; and in this, to comprehend will not be the same thing as to be comprehended; nor will there be the same[136] definition of both. There will therefore be two things, and no longer the one alone. Again, neither will any being be moved. For being moved indeed, it must necessarily be changed. But being changed it must be in another thing. If the one however alone has an existence, it is not possible for any thing to appear to be in something else. Hence it is not possible for any being to be changed. But every thing which stands still is necessarily in the same thing. And that which is in the same is in a certain same thing. The one however is in no same thing. For that which is in a certain thing, is either in itself, or in something else. But it has been demonstrated, that it is neither in itself, nor in another. Hence neither is it in a certain same thing. Neither therefore does any being stand still.

Moreover, it is impossible for any thing to be the same with, or different from any thing. For if there is nothing besides the one itself, there is not any thing which will be either the same with, or different from another thing. For there will not be any other being. And the one itself will not be different from itself; for it would be many and not one. Nor will it be the same with itself. For this thing which is same is in another, and same is not the one itself. For the one is simply one, because it is not many. But that which is same is the same with another thing. Again, neither is it possible for any thing to be similar or dissimilar to any thing. For every thing similar suffers a certain same passion; but every thing dissimilar a certain different passion. The one, however, cannot suffer any thing, nor can this be the case with any thing else besides the one; since nothing else has any existence whatever, if the one alone has a subsistence. Farther still, in addition to these things we say that neither is it possible for any thing to be touched, nor to be separate, if there is nothing else besides the one. For how can things which have no existence be separate, or come into contact with any thing? But neither can the one either be separate from itself, or touch itself.

For it would thus be passive to the being touched, and the being separate. But the one suffers no other thing besides itself. It is likewise requisite that no one thing should either be equal or unequal to any thing. For that which is equal to another thing, is said to be so with reference to another thing. And the like may be said of that which is unequal. Another thing, however, has no existence, if the one alone has a subsistence. But neither can the one be equal or unequal to itself. For if unequal, there will be one thing in it as greater, but another as less; so that it will be two things and not one. And if the one is equal to itself, the one will measure itself. This however is impossible. For the one will measure and be measured by itself, so that it will not be the one itself. Neither therefore will there be any equality or inequality in beings. If however these things are impossible, neither can any being come into contact with another, and be separate, nor be similar or dissimilar, nor be same or different, nor again, stand still, or be moved, or in short be in any thing, or have figure, or be a whole, or have parts, if the one alone has a subsistence which is void of multitude, and is without all these things. Neither however, is it possible for the many alone to have a subsistence, as was before demonstrated. And hence it is necessary that every being should be both many and one.

If this however is the case, either the many must participate of the one, or the one of the many, or both must participate of each other, or neither of each other; but the many indeed must be separate, and the one must also be separate, in order that the many and the one may subsist, as reason evinces. If, therefore, neither the one participates of the many, nor the many of the one, the same absurdities will ensue as we brought together in the hypothesis of the many alone having a subsistence. For again there will be the many separate from the one. For if the one subsists by itself, and the many do not in any respect participate of the one, the many will be infinitely infinite, they will be similar and dissimilar, same and different, moved and stable, and there will neither be any number nor any knowledge of the many. For the absence of the one compels all these consequences to be apparent in the many. It is impossible therefore, that neither the many should participate of the one, nor the one of the many. If however, the one participates of the many, and the many of the one, and both these are in each other, it is necessary that there should be another nature besides these, which is neither one nor many. For both these being mingled in each other, it is necessary that there should be a cause of their mixture which conjoins multitude to the one, and the one to multitude.

For it is necessary that every thing that is mingled, should have a cause of the mixture. For in short, if the one and multitude participate of each other, neither the one is the cause of essence to multitude, nor multitude to the one, but a certain third thing is the cause of essence to both, and which is prior to these. For what will that be which makes this to be multitude, and that to be one? And what is the cause of this communication and association with each other, the one so far as it is one never having any communication with the many? For the many so far as many, and the one so far as one are different from each other. And so far as neither is from neither, they have no sympathy with each other. What therefore is it which collects these into one, since they fly from and are unmingled with each other? For being thus discordant with each other, they cannot desire each other, or if they did their congress must be fortuitous. For if this should happen to be the case, there was a time when these were separate from each other, since now also they subsist together causally. It is however impossible for the many to subsist separate from the one. The mixture therefore is not causal. But neither is the mixture from the many, if neither the one is the cause of the many, nor the many of the one.

What therefore is this more excellent thing [which is the cause of the mixture?] For it is either one, or not one. But if indeed, it is the one itself, we must again inquire concerning this, whether it participates of multitude or of nothing. For if this participates, it is evident that some other thing prior to this, will for the same reason present itself to the view, and this will be the case to infinity. But if a thing of this kind is entirely void of multitude, again that which was asserted at first will not be true, viz. that the many do not participate of the one, nor the one of the many. I mean however that which is the most principal and primarily one. But there is indeed a certain one in the many, and there is also the imparticipable one, and which is simply one, and nothing else. If however that which is prior to both, is not[137] one, it is necessary that this not one should be more excellent than the one. All things however are, and are generated what they are, through the one. And together with the one indeed every being is preserved; but separate from the one proceeds to the corruption of itself. The mixture also of the one and multitude, which the non-one affords to beings, is communion and union. The one[138] therefore, and that which is not one,[139] are the cause of nothing else to beings than of their being one.

If however the one is the cause of a thing of this kind, that which is not one will not be the cause of that which is more excellent [than union.] But it is every where necessary that what is more excellent should be the cause to beings of another more excellent thing, according to its own power. For thus it will be more excellent as being more good, and as the cause from its own nature of a greater and more excellent good to those things to which a less good is the cause of less goodness. From these things therefore it is necessary, that the many should participate of the one, that the one should be unmingled with multitude, and that nothing should be better than the one, but that this should also be the cause of being to the many. For every thing which is deprived of the one, flies immediately into nothing, and to its own corruption. But that which is not many, is not at one and the same time not many and nothing. For to the one that which is nothing, or not one, is opposed, and to the many that which is not many is opposed. If, therefore, the one and the many are not the same, the not being many will not be the same with nothing. From thus considering the affair therefore, it appears that the one is beyond multitude, and is the cause of being to the many.

It is necessary however, that discussing the same subject after another manner, we should again see if we can in a certain respect follow what has been said, and refer it to the same end. It is necessary therefore, that there should either be one principle, or many principles; or rather, we should begin from hence. And if there are many principles, they must either possess sympathy with each other, or they must be divulsed from each other, and they must be either finite or infinite. But if there is one principle, this must either be not essence, or essence. And if it is essence, this must either be corporeal or incorporeal. And if incorporeal, it must either be separate from, or inseparable from bodies. And if separate, it must either be moveable or immoveable. But if it is not essence, it must either be inferior to all essence, or participated by essence, or imparticipable. If therefore there are many principles, and which have no sympathy with each other, no being will originate from them [conjointly,] nor will they be common to all things, but each will produce by itself. For what communication can there be between things which are naturally foreign, or what co-operation between things which are entirely of a different kind? In addition also to these things, there will be the many which do not participate of the one. For if there is a certain one common in all of them, they will not be perfectly separated essentially from each other.

If therefore they are different, and there is nothing which is the same about them, they are alone many and by no means one. But if there are many principles, and which possess sympathy with each other, they will have something common, which leads all of them to sympathy, and similarly unfolds all of them to the view. For we call those things sympathetic, which happen to be passive to the same thing. But similars are entirely similar from participating one form and one nature. If however this be the case, it is necessary that that all [or universal] which is every where, and in all the principles, should be of a more principal nature than the many. This therefore gives them the power to generate sympathy with each other, and affords them communion according to nature.

Again, if there are indeed infinite principles, either the things which proceed from them are infinite, and there will thus be the infinite twice, or they are finite, and thus all the principles will not be principles. For things finite in number, will entirely proceed from finite principles. The principles therefore are in vain infinite. To which may be added, that infinity makes both the principles to be unknown, and the things which proceed from them. For the principles being unknown, it is necessary that the things which proceed from them should be unknown; since we then think that we know any thing when we know the causes and the first principles of it. But if the principles are finite, it is evident that there will be a certain number of them: for we say that number is a definite multitude. If however, there is a number of the principles, it is necessary that there should be a cause of the whole number of them. For every number is from one; and this, viz. the one is the principle of numbers. This therefore will be the principle of principles, and the cause of finite multitude, since number itself is one, and the end in the many is one, and it bounds the many by that which is one. But the principle being one, and this being essence, it is necessary if this is admitted to be either corporeal or incorporeal, that it must be acknowledged to be the principle of other things.

If therefore, body is the cause of the generation of beings, it is necessary indeed, that it should be divisible and have parts. For every body is in its own nature divisible; since every magnitude is a certain whole and that which is a whole consists of parts. These parts therefore, (but I mean each of them) must either severally participate a certain one, or not participate it. If therefore they do not participate it, they will be many alone, and by no means one. Hence, neither will that which consists from them be a whole. For there being no one, that which consists of all of them will not be one. But if each of the parts participates of something of this kind, and there is something which is the same in all of them, a thing of this kind must necessarily be incorporeal, and impartible according to its own nature. For if this also is itself corporeal, it is either wholly in each of the parts, or not wholly. If therefore, it is indeed wholly in each, it will itself be separated from itself. For the parts in which it is are separate from each other. But if it is not wholly in each of the parts, this also will be divisible, and will have parts after the same manner as the above mentioned parts; and there will again be the same inquiry concerning these, viz. whether in these also there is something common, or nothing; since if there is nothing common, we shall place the many separate from the one.

Let us however consider the whole; for every body is a whole, and has parts. What therefore will that be which is connective of the parts, since they are many? For it is necessary to say either that the whole is unific of the parts, or the parts of the whole, or that some third thing prior to both, which is neither a whole, nor has any part, connects and unites the whole with its parts, and the parts with the whole. But if the whole indeed is connective of the parts, the whole will be incorporeal and impartible. For if it is a body, this also will be partible, and will be indigent of a nature which is capable of connecting the parts; and this will be the case to infinity. But if the parts are connective of the whole, how can the many be connective of the one; and things divided, of that which consists from them? For on the contrary, it is necessary that the one should have the power of uniting the many, and not the many of uniting the one. And if that which connects both, is neither a whole nor has parts, it will be perfectly impartible. But being impartible, it is also necessarily without interval. For every thing which has interval has parts, and is divisible. But being without interval it is incorporeal; for every body possesses interval.

Farther still, it is necessary that the principle should be perpetual; for every being is perpetual or corruptible. Hence it must be admitted that the principle of beings is perpetual or corruptible. But if we should grant that this may be corrupted, there will be no being incorruptible. For the principle being destroyed, it will neither be itself generated from any thing, nor will another thing be generated from it. For it can neither be able to generate itself (since it is not, if it is not perpetual) nor can another thing be able to generate it, if it is the principle of all things. But if it is incorruptible, it will have the power of not being corrupted, and this power will be infinite, in order that it may exist to infinity through the whole of time. For every finite power of existence pertains naturally to that which is corruptible. But an infinite power pertains to perpetual natures, the existence of which continues to infinity. This infinite therefore, I mean the infinite according to power, is either impartible or partible. But if it is partible indeed, there will be the infinite in a finite body. For the principle is finite; since if it were infinite, there will be nothing else besides itself. But if it is impartible, the power of infinitely existing will be incorporeal. And the principle of beings is incorporeal,[140] so far as it is this power through which the subject of it always is. That it is impossible therefore, the principle of beings can be corporeal is from these things evident.

If however it is incorporeal, it must either be separate, or inseparable from bodies. But if inseparable indeed, it will have all its energies in bodies, and subsisting about them. For that is inseparable from body which is not any where naturally adapted to energize except in and with bodies. But if the principle is a thing of this kind, it is evidently necessary that none of the things which subsist according to it should be more powerful, or possess greater authority than the principle of all beings. If however, nothing is more excellent in bodies than the power which subsists in and energizes about bodies, and a corporeal essence, there will not any where be intellect and the power which energizes according to intellect. For every such like motion [i.e. energy] proceeds from a power, which is entirely in its energies independent of body. But it neither was, nor is lawful for generated natures to surpass the power of their causes. For every thing which is in the things begotten is from primary natures, and the latter are the lords of the essence of the former. If therefore, the principle of beings is able to generate intellect and wisdom, how is it possible it should not generate it, on account of and in itself? For one of two things is necessary, either that intellectual perception pertains in no respect to beings, or that it is inferior to them; and that if it exists it acts in bodies only.

These things however, it is impossible to assert. But if that which is the first of beings, and which is the principle of all things is separate from bodies, it is perfectly necessary to admit that it is either immoveable or moved. And if indeed it is moved, there will be something else prior to it, about which it is moved. For every thing which is moved, is naturally adapted to be moved about something else which is permanent. And farther still, besides this, it is moved through desire of another thing. For it is necessary indeed that it should be moved in consequence of desiring a certain thing; because motion itself by itself is indefinite. But the end of it is that for the sake of which it subsists. It desires however, either something else, or itself. But every thing which desires itself is immoveable. For why should any thing that is present with itself want to be in another thing? For of things which are moved, the motion of that is less to which the good is nearer, but the motion is greater of that to which the good is more remote. But that which possesses good in itself, and for the sake of which it subsists, will be immoveable and stable; since being always in itself, it is in good. That however which is in itself is in same; for each thing is the same with itself.

But of that which is in itself we say indeed that it stands still and is immoveable; while that which is not immoveable, is not in itself but in another, is moved towards another thing, and is perfectly indigent of good. If therefore the principle of beings is moved, but every thing which is moved is moved through the want of good, and towards another thing which is the object of desire to it, there will be something else which is desirable to the principle of beings besides itself, and about which possessing a sameness of subsistence, we must say it is moved. This however is impossible. For the principle is that for the sake of which all things subsist, which all things desire, and which is indigent of nothing. For if it were in want of something, it would be entirely subordinate to that of which it is in want, and to which its energy is directed as the object of desire. But if the principle is immoveable (for this is what remains,) it is necessary that it should be one incorporeal essence, possessing an eternal sameness of subsistence. After what manner, however, does it possess the one? And how is it one essence? For if essence and the one are the same, it must be admitted that the principle of beings is essence. But if essence is different from the one, it must be granted that to be the one is not the same thing as to be essence.

And if, indeed, essence is better than the one, according to this it must be said to be with the principle. But if the one is better than essence and beyond it, the one is also the principle of essence. And if they are coordinate to each other, the many will be prior to the one.[141] This, however, is impossible as we have before demonstrated. It is evident, indeed, that essence is not the same as the one. For it is not one and the same thing to say one, and that essence is one; but the former is not yet a sentence, and the latter is. To which may be added, that if essence and the one are the same, multitude will be the same as that which has no existence, and which is not essence. This, however, is impossible. For in essence the many are contained, and in that which is not essence is the one. But if essence and the one are not the same, they will not be coordinate to each other; for if they were coordinate there will be some other thing prior to them, if it is necessary that all things should subsist from one principle. And if one of these is better than the other, either the one is prior to essence, or essence is prior to the one. But if the one indeed is prior to essence, this and not essence is the principle of all things.

For it is necessary that nothing should be better than the principle. And if essence is prior to the one, the one will be passive to essence, and not essence to the one. But if the one is passive to essence, it is necessary that the one and essence should be every thing, and that all such things as are one should be essence, but not that all such things as are essence should be one. There will, therefore, be a certain essence deprived of the one. If, however, this be the case, it will be nothing. For that which is deprived of the one is nothing. Hence the one is prior to essence.

But if that which is first is something which is not essence, it is absurd to assert that it is subordinate to essence. For the principle is that which has the greatest power and the most absolute authority, and is most sufficient to itself, and is not that which is most ignoble, and indigent of the many. And, in short, it is necessary that no secondary nature should be better than the principle; for it is requisite that beings should not be governed badly. But if, indeed, the principle has an order subordinate to the things which proceed from it, and the things proceeding from it are better than it, all things will be badly confounded, nor will the principle according to nature be any thing else than something which is not the most excellent of things, nor will things which proceed from the principle possess from it a power of ruling over their principle. The principle of beings, therefore, will indeed be fortuitous, and also the beings which are its progeny. But this is impossible. For things which are fortuitous (if to have a fortuitous subsistence is this, not to exist according to intellect, nor with a view to a definite end) are disorderly, infinite, and indefinite, and are all of them things which have a less frequency of subsistence. But the principle is invariably principle, and other things proceed from it. If however, that which is not essence is better than all essence, it will either be participated by it, or it will be entirely imparticipable.

If, however, essence participates of the principle, of what will it be the principle? And how will it be the principle of all beings? For it is necessary that the principle of beings should be no one of beings; since if it were any one of them, it is necessarily not the principle of all beings. But every thing which is participated by another thing is said to be that by which it is participated, and in which it primarily is. The principle, however, is separate, and belongs in a greater degree to itself than to other things. Besides, every thing which is participated proceeds from another more excellent cause; since that which is imparticipable is better than that which is participable. It is not, however, possible to conceive any thing better than that which is most excellent, and which we call the principle. For it is not lawful to assert that things secondary to the principle, and which proceed from it, are in any respect better than their principle. The cause therefore of all beings is above all essence, is separate from every essence, and is neither essence, nor has essence as an addition to its nature. For such an addition as this is a diminution of simplicity, and of that which is one.

See, therefore, the third argument after these, leading us to the same conclusion with the former arguments. For it is necessary that the cause of all beings should be that of which all beings participate, to which they refer the subsistence of themselves, and which separates itself from nothing that in any respect whatever is said to have an existence. For this alone is the object of desire to beings, which primarily, or in some other way, is itself the cause of their subsistence. And it is necessary that every thing which is produced with reference to, and on account of it, should have a certain habitude with relation to it, and through this also, a similitude to it. For every habitude of one thing towards another, is predicated in a twofold respect, either from both participating of one thing, which affords to the participants a communion with each other; or from one of them participating of the other; of which, indeed, the one as being more excellent, imparts something to that which is subordinate to itself; but the other, as being inferior, is assimilated to the more excellent nature, so far as it participates of it. Hence it is necessary, if all sensible natures possess a habitude to that which is first, aspire after, and subsist about it, either that there should be a certain third thing the cause of the habitude, or that the principle should impart to the natures posterior to itself, a tendency to itself, and that desire, through which every thing is preserved, and exists.

Nothing else, however, is more excellent than that which is first. Hence, the habitude of beings, their existence, and their tendency to the first, are derived from thence. And all things participate of the principle of themselves, if it is necessary that this which is participated, should from thence become apparent in all beings, since it is the principle of all things, and deserts no being whatever. What, therefore, will this nature be, which is every where, and in all beings? Is it life and motion? But there are indeed many things which are deprived of these. Is, therefore, permanency every where, and in all things? But neither is this true. For motion, so far as it is motion, will not participate of permanency. Is much-honoured intellect, therefore, so far as it is intellect, participated by all beings? But this also is impossible. For all beings would have intellectual perception, and no being would be deprived of intellect.

Shall we say, therefore, that being itself and essence are participated by all things that in any respect whatever have a subsistence? But how is this possible? For that which is in generation, or passing into existence, is said to be, and is destitute of essence. Nor must we wonder, if it also, since it ranks among beings, should now participate of essence. For so far as it is in generation, it is not; but it ends in existence and essence when it is now actually generated, and is no longer rising into existence. All things, therefore, that have in any respect whatever a subsistence, do not participate of essence. What then will that be which is every where and by all things participated? Let us consider every being, and see what that is to which all beings are passive, and what it is which is common in all of them, as in essence, sameness, difference, permanency, and motion. Can we say, therefore, that each of these is any thing else than one thing, and not only separately, but this is also the case with the things which subsist from them; and in short, it is not possible in a certain respect to speak otherwise of all things, than this, that all things, and each thing is one. For if any thing should be deprived of the one, though you should speak of parts, or of beings, immediately, that which becomes destitute of the one, will be altogether nothing.

Or with what intention do we say that a thing which is not is perfectly nothing, [or not even one thing] unless the one is the last thing which deserts beings? This it is, therefore, to become that which in no respect is, and to be perfectly deprived of the one. For it is possible for that which is not moved to be, and for that which has no being to have an hyparxis; but that which is not even one thing, and which is destitute of the one itself, will be entirely nothing. Hence the one is present with all beings; and though you should speak of multitude itself, it is necessary that this also should participate of the one; for if it does not become one thing, it is not possible for it to subsist. And if even you divide the whole to infinity, immediately nothing else than one occurs. For either that which is divided does not subsist, or becoming to be, or subsisting something else, it will be immediately one.[142] The one, therefore, which is every where apparent, and is in all beings, and which deserts no being whatever, is either derived from the one which is simply one, or from that which is more excellent than the one. For it is not possible for the one to be otherwise passive, [i.e. to be consubsistent with something else] than from the first one, to which the one is no longer present, but which is the one itself, or nothing else than one.

Again, therefore, from another principle we may arrive at the same conclusion, by speaking as follows: It is necessary either that the causes of beings and things caused should proceed to infinity, and that there should be nothing first or last in beings; or that there should be no first, but that there should be the last of things, infinity existing in one part only. Or on the contrary, it is necessary that beings should proceed to infinity from a definite principle, or that there should be a certain first and last, and a boundary of beings each way. And if there are boundaries of beings, things either proceed from each other, and the generation of beings is in a circle; or if they are not from each other, either one of them is from another, or the first indeed is one, but the last not one, or the contrary, or both are one, or each is not one. If, therefore, first things, and the causes of beings are infinite, each thing will consist of infinites. For that which proceeds from a certain principle, must necessarily participate of that principle from which it proceeds. But that which derives its subsistence from many causes, will be in its own nature multiform, as participating of many powers. And that which is produced from infinites prior to itself, will have infinite peculiarities derived from the principles, and adapted to itself. Every being, therefore, being infinite, and consisting of infinites, will render all things infinitely infinite, and there will neither be a knowledge of any being, nor any evolution of powers. For the power of the infinite is perfectly unknown, and incomprehensible, by those natures to whom it is infinite.

But if things are infinite in a descending progression, whether is each of them infinite always proceeding most downward, in the same manner as we say all things do, or is each whole indeed finite, but the beings which are produced from these are infinite? For if every being according to the beginning of itself is definite, but according to its end is infinite, there will neither be in parts nor in wholes, a conversion of beings to their proper principle, nor will that which is second in order ever have a subsistence so as to be assimilated to the extremity of a preexistent order; though as we frequently say, the summits of inferiors are conjoined with the boundaries of superiors. For where there is no last, by what contrivance can such a similitude of progression as this, and such a mutual coherence of beings be left, according to which secondary things are always conjoined to the natures prior to them? But if all things alone have an infinity of this kind, each being bounded by that which is posterior to itself, wholes will be subordinate to parts, and the parts of beings will be naturally more perfect [than wholes.] For wholes, indeed, will be without conversion to the principle prior to themselves; but parts will be converted to it after their progression. By how much the more, however, every being hastens to conjunction with that which is more perfect than itself, by so much the more must it necessarily excel, as it appears to me. And if this whole proceeding to infinity is not convolved to the summit of itself, and circularly converted and perfected according to such a conversion [it will not desire its proper good.] If, however, we admit that there is an infinity both ways these things must necessarily happen.

In addition to these things, also, there will be no common object of desire to all beings, nor any union nor sympathy of them. For things which are perfectly infinite have not that which is first in them; but not having a first, we shall not be able to say what is the common end of beings, and why some things are more excellent, but others are allotted a subordinate nature. For we call one thing better and another less excellent, from proximity to that which is best, just as we define the more and the less hot from communion with that which is hot in the first degree. And in short, we form a judgment of the more and the less from a reference to that which is a maximum. It is necessary, therefore, that the boundary in beings should be that which is first and that which is last. But if, indeed, these are from each other, the same thing will be older and younger, cause and at the same time the thing caused, and each thing will be first and last. For it makes no difference, whether these are from each other, or the things which subsist between these. For the extremes being indifferent, how is it possible that a mutation according to essence should intervene? But if the one is from the other, whether is the first derived from the last, as some say, who generate things more excellent from things subordinate, and things more perfect from such as are more imperfect?

In this case, however, must not that which is allotted the power of generating and producing the perfect, by a much greater priority perfect and adorn itself by its present power? And how is it possible that leaving itself to be of an inferior allotment it should definitely assign a more excellent order to another thing? For every thing aspires after its proper perfection, and simply desires good; though not every thing is able to participate of a thing of this kind. If, therefore, it has the power of producing this most perfect thing, that which is last will energize on account of itself prior to other things, and the whole of good, and all perfection, will be first established in itself.

But if that which is last is produced from that which is first, and the most imperfect from that which is most perfect, whether, is each of them one, or is this one, but that not one? If, however, that which is first, or that which is last, is not one, neither of them will be first or last. For, as there will be multitude in each, each of them will have the better and the worse; and neither will that which is best be unmingled with that which is inferior to it, nor that which is the most obscure of all things according to being, have so great a subjection entirely deprived of a more perfect nature; but there will be something more extreme than that which is last, and something more perfect than that which is first. For every where, that which is best if it receives another addition through that which is inferior will be more perfect than that which does not abide in the best, [through not receiving this very addition.] If, therefore, we rightly assert these things, the one is the principle of all things, and the last of beings is one. For it is necessary, I think, that the end of the progression of beings should be assimilated to the principle, and that as far as to this, the power of the first should proceed.

Summarily, therefore, recapitulating what we have said, it is necessary either that the first principle should be one, or that there should be alone many[143] first principles, or one containing multitude in itself, or many participating of one. But if there are many first principles only, there will not be one thing from them. For what will make one and a whole, if there are many principles, and there is nothing which produces one? For it is certainly necessary that things posterior to the principles should be assimilated to them. Either, therefore, there will not be the one in any being, or it will not be from these principles; so that each of the things which in any respect whatever have a subsistence will be divided multitude alone. And again each of the parts of any being will be a thing of this kind, and we shall in no way whatever stop, dividing into minute parts essence and existence. For all things will be many, and the one will be no where in the universality of things, nor will either wholes or parts be apparent. But if it is necessary, indeed, that there should be many principles, and that they should participate of the one, the one will be coordinated in the many. Again, however, it is necessary, that the uncoordinated should every where be more ancient than the coordinated, and the exempt than the participated. For how is the one in each of the many except from one principle which co-arranges the multitude, and converts it to itself according to the communion of the one?

Again, if the first one were multiplied, the one will be passive; for at the same time it will be one and not one, and will not be that which is one [only.] It is necessary, however, in each genus of things, that there should be that which is unmingled with an inferior nature, in order that there may be that which is mingled, in the same manner as we say respecting forms. For from the equal itself, things which are equal in these sublunary realms, appear indeed as equal, though they are filled with a contrary nature; and from that which is primarily being, that which is mingled with non-being is derived, and which presents itself to the view as being. And in short every where the simple unmingled subsistence of each thing precedes those things which through remission are mingled with the privations of themselves. The one therefore is by itself exempt from all multitude; and that which is one, and at the same time not one, is not the first one, but is suspended[144] from that which is primarily one; through the principle, indeed, participating of the one, but through the diminution arising from multitude, now manifestly exhibiting in itself the cause of separation.

That the one therefore is the principle of all things, and the first cause, and that all other things are posterior to the one, is I think evident from what has been said. I am astonished however at all the other interpreters of Plato, who admit the existence of the intellectual kingdom, but do not venerate the ineffable transcendency of the one, and its hyparxis which surpasses the whole of things. I particularly, however, wonder that this should have been the case with Origen, who was a partaker of the same erudition with Plotinus. For Origen ends in intellect and the first being, but omits the one which is beyond every intellect and every being. And if indeed he omits it, as something which is better than all knowledge, language and intellectual perception, we must say that he is neither discordant with Plato, nor with the nature of things, But if he omits it because the one is perfectly unhyparctic, and without any subsistence, and because intellect is the best of things, and that which is primarily being is the same as that which is primarily one, we cannot assent to him in asserting these things, nor will Plato admit him, and connumerate him with his familiars. For I think that a dogma of this kind is remote from the philosophy of Plato, and is full of Peripatetic innovation. If you are willing, however, we will adduce some arguments against this dogma, and against all others who are the patrons of this opinion, and we will strenuously contend for the doctrine of Plato, and show that according to him the first cause is beyond intellect, and is exempt from all beings, as Plotinus and Porphyry, and all those who have received the philosophy of these men, conceive him to assert.

We shall begin, therefore, from the Republic; for here Socrates clearly shows that the good is established above being, and the whole intellectual order, following the analogy of the first goodness to the sun. For if, as the sovereign sun is to generation, to every thing visible, and to all visive natures according to the power generative of light, so it is necessary the good should be with reference to intellect and intelligibles, according to a cause productive of truth, - if this be the case, we must say that the sun is exempt at one and the same time from visive and visible natures, and must admit that the good transcends the natures which are always intellective, and also those which are eternally intelligible. It is better, however, to hear the Platonic words themselves: “You may say that the sun not only imparts the power of being seen to visible natures, but also that he is the cause of their generation, increase, and nutriment, not being himself generation. Certainly. We may say, therefore, that things which are known, have not only this from the good that they are known, but likewise that their being and essence are thence derived, whilst the good itself is not essence, but beyond essence, transcending it both in dignity and in power.” Through all these things, therefore, it is evident how the good and the first principle are defined by Plato to be expanded above not only the intellectual, but also the intelligible extent, and essence itself, according to union, in the same manner as it is inferred the sun surpasses all visible natures, and perfects and generates all things by his light.

How, therefore, following Plato, can we admit that intellect is the best of things, and the cause of all things? How can we assert that being itself[145] and essence are the same with the principle which is the leader of all the divine progressions? For essence and intellect are said to subsist primarily from the good, to have their hyparxis about the good, to be filled with the light of truth proceeding from thence, and to obtain the participation which is adapted to them from the union of this light, which is more divine than intellect itself and essence, as being primarily suspended from the good, and affording in beings a similitude to that which is first. For the light which is emitted from the sun causes every thing visible to be solar-form. And the participation of the light of truth renders that which is intelligible boniform and divine. Intellect, therefore, is a god through a light which is more ancient than intellectual light and intellect itself, and that which is intelligible and at the same time intellectual participates of a divine hyparxis through a plenitude of this light being appropriately imparted to it.[146] And in short, every divine nature is that which it is said to be, on account of this light, and is through it united to the cause of all beings. By no means, therefore, is the first good to be considered as the same with intellect, nor must it be admitted that the intelligible is more ancient than all the hyparxis of the whole of things, since it is even subordinate to the light proceeding from the good, and being perfected by this light, is conjoined according to its own order with the good itself.

For we must not say that the intelligible is united to the first after the same manner as the light [of truth;] but the latter through continuity with the good is established in it without a medium; while the former, through this light, participates of a vicinity to the good; since in sensibles also, the solar light is primarily connascent with the circulation of the sun, ascends as far as to the centre of the whole sphere, and subsists on all sides about it. But all sensible natures through this obtain a similitude to the sun, each of them according to its own nature being filled with solar-form illumination. These things, therefore, will be sufficient to recall into the memory of those who love the contemplation of truth, the conceptions of Plato on this subject, and to evince that the order of intellect is secondary to the exempt transcendency of the one.

If, however, it is requisite to evince the same thing through many testimonies, let us survey what the Elean guest in the Sophista determines concerning these things. He says, therefore, it is necessary that the multitude of all beings, whether they are contraries or not, should be suspended from the one being, [i.e. from being characterized by the one;] but that the one being itself should be suspended from the one. For when we call the hot or the cold, or permanency or motion, being, we do not denominate each of these as the same with being itself. For if permanency were being itself, motion would not be being; or, if motion were such like being, permanency would not participate of the appellation of being. But it is evident that being accedes to permanency, to motion, and to every multitude of beings from one thing which is primarily being. This very thing, therefore, which is the cause of essence to all things, and which is participated by all other things, is a participant of this one, and on this account, as it is being alone, so also it is primarily being.[147] It is, however, being itself indeed, and is not allotted to be, from participation; but it is one according to participation, and on this account it is passive to the one. But it is being[148] primarily. If, therefore, Plato gives to the one a subsistence beyond being, in the same manner as that which is first in wholes is supposed by him to transcend beings, how is it possible that being should not be posterior to the one, since it participates of it, and on this account is denominated one?

Moreover, Socrates in the Philebus clearly demonstrates the same thing to those who are able to know wholes from parts, viz. that intellect has not the same order as the first cause of all. Investigating, therefore, the good of the human soul and its end, of which participating in every respect sufficiently it will reap the fruits of a felicity adapted to its nature, he in the first place removes pleasure from an end of this kind, and after this intellect, because neither is this replete with all the elements of the good. If, therefore, the intellect which is in us is an image of the first intellect, and the good of the whole of our life is not to be defined according to this alone, is it not necessary that in wholes also, the cause of good must be established above intellectual perfection? For if that which is primarily good subsisted according to total intellect, in us also and all other [intellectual natures,] self-sufficiency and appropriate good would be present through the participation of intellect. Our intellect, indeed, is disjoined from the good, and is indigent, and on this account requires pleasure in order to the attainment of human perfection. But a divine intellect always participates of the good, and on this account is divine. For it is boniform through the participation of good; but divine, as being suspended from the first deity. It is the same reasoning, therefore, which infers that the good is exempt from the first intellect, and which defines felicity to consist not in intelligence only, but in the all-perfect presence of the good.

For the intellectual form of energy is itself by itself defective with respect to blessedness. And why is it requisite to be prolix? For Parmenides teaches us most clearly the difference of the one from essence and being, and shows that the one is exempt from all other things and from essence; for this he evinces of the one at the end of the first hypothesis. But how is it possible that the cause of essence, and which is exempt from it through supreme transcendency, should not also be beyond the intellectual order? For intellect is essence. But if in intellect there is permanency and motion, and Parmenides demonstrates that the one transcends both these, does he not immediately bring us to the ineffable cause of all things, which is prior to every intellect? And if every intellect is converted to itself, and is in itself, but the one is demonstrated to be neither in itself, nor in another, how can we any longer consider intellect as the same with the first cause of all? In what respect, also, will the one which is prior to being differ from the one being, which is the subject of the second hypothesis, if intellect is the best of things, and the first principle of all? For the one being participates of the one; but that which participates is secondary to that which is participated. That the one, however, is according to Plato more ancient than intellect and essence, is through what has been said recalled to our memory.