1. The paper on The Three Fundamental Ideas of the Human ML ml is reprinted at the request of iiiunj teachers and others win > <[<■ wire to have it in a more convenient form. Its right to be classed among optisr.ula I'latonica arises from the (act that Us arguments are drawn from the Plutonic Fount. Over two thousand years ago Plato proved the essential imbecility and radical absurdity of atheism and materialism, and from that day to this the war against these twin enemies of the Goud, whose power fur evil is in proportion to the ignorance of mankind, bat been waged with rational weapons wrought by the mighty intellect of the immortal Master of the Acailemy.and his genuine disciple* li may be observed that both atheism and materialism lack an inherent mental vitalily: the factitious vitality, which they enjoy from time to lime, is derived from the vicious propensities and degrading inclinations of the human race.
2, Henneias, of Alexandria, Egypt, who "flourished* in the fifth century, A. D., was one of u the links of the golden chain of the Platonic Succession, "and his Commentary on the Phaedrus is a work of profound penetration, and invaluable for the correct interpretation of that marvelous dialogue. The immortality of the Soul is demonstrated by a series of logical insights which will bring to those who are capable of apprehending Lhcm an immutable conviction, from their intrinsic validity. The basal insight is thai ihe nature of the soul is essentially selfacfire. This is one of the most important truths ever recovered by the human mind from the oblivion which overwhelmed it, by reason of its fall into the material region. The chief modern exponent of the principle of self-activity is Dr. VV. T. Harris, whose work on the Psychologic Foundations of Education should be in the hands of every teacher in this eoontry. This 'Demonstration' was firsi translated by Thomas Taylor, the Platonist, and was published In the Classical .Journal, in 1890 I have retranslated it largely, adding paragraphs and sentences omitted by Taylor, and availing myself of a much improved text. I have used selfactive and self-moved as synonyms, because 'self-active 1 is the exact English equivalent of ttVTOXtvtfTQf, according to the Platonic use of the word, which is generally translated 'self-moved.'
This version i* not intended for Greek scholars, and therefore the accents were not attached to the Greek words used for illustrative purposes
S. Taylor*! eloquent and (graphic Dissertation on Ihe Platonic Doctrine of Ideas, which was prefixed to his translation of the Commentaries of Proclua on Euclid, published In 1702, remains, despite the almost iunninerahle articles and essays dealing with the theme which have appeared since, I lie best exposition of the subject, so far as if goes. The subject is treated in broad outlines, and the reader is constantly referred to authorities for complete knowledge find urged to study much and meditate deeply, if he wishes to master the problems involved. For an exhaustive exposition of Pinto's doctrine about ideas, the lover of
wisdom may study the third and fourth books of Proelns' Commentary on the Parmenides, and the Commentary of Syrianus on the Metaphysics of Aristotle. No English version of these priceless works has appeared, but the Notes to Taylor's translation of Plato's Parmnuidcs and of Aristotle's Metaphysics contain many admirable passages from them. 4. The theory of Reminiscence is a characteristic or constitutive element of the Platonic Philosophy. As a psychological fact, it would bo diflicult to overestimate its value. The doctrine is chieily enunciated in the Meno, the Phaedrus and the Phaedo. The Commentary of Olympiodorus on the Phaedo, and that of Hermeias on the Phaedrus, give much recondite information about Reminiscence. The beautiful lines of Boethius need no enconium. We can heartily recommend to the student his famous book, On the Consolation of Philosophy: it is worthy of deep study.
The Three Fundamental Ideas Of The Human JAind
Read before the Southwest Teachers' Association November 29th, 1907, and published by request of the Association in the Missouri School journal. Reprinted, with additions and alterations.
The mind is not, as Locke, the father of all popular psychology, says, "a piece of white paper, void of all characters, without any ideas,"* but it is "an omniform image or exemplar of Divinity, containingthe reasons or productive principles of all things"— "not a tablet empty of words or characters, but is ever written on and writing on itself, and also written on by pure intellect." Therefore, it is full of original or innate ideas, and need not go abroad for knowledge. Every mind is essentially endowed with ideas, but they are not equally aroused, developed or brought into the foreground of the consciousness of every person. The law of nature seems to be inequality in the process of development — the degree depending on the intensity of the desire for knowledge, and the power of the Will. When aroused by objects of sense, or moved by its natural energy, the Mind becomes conscious of its original ideas, to a greater or less extent, and uses them accordingly. If it be said that many never become conscious of ideas, the reply is t that the light of Ideas only shines to and for those who ardently desire to emerge from the material cavern. There are those of whom God has said, "they shall never see Iight."+ Yes, undoubtedly they will never see light, if they do not want to see it, if they deliberately shut their eyes and refuse to see it. The peo-
Ess»y on the Umlri st.iiuUng Book II. Ph. 1. '-■
pie who obstinately remain within the domain of sense, who know of no science except the physical (which, rightly considered, is no science at all,) who deal only with phenomena and are ignorant of noumena — these undoubtedly "wallow in a slough of barbarism," according to Plato's expression.
The Idea of an Omnipotent, Omnipresent and Omniscient Deity is one of the original, fundamental ideas of the Human Mind — found more or less developed, or not developed at all, in every mind. Maximus Tyrius observes, "that in other things we find men speaking
very discordantly but, nevertheless, in this great
war, contention and discord, you will find everywhere throughout the whole world one agreeing law and opinion, viz., that there is one God, the Ruler and Father of All, and many gods, the sons of God, co-reigners with him."+
Dion Chrysostom remarks: "Concerning the nature of the Gods in general, but especially of the Supreme Ruler over all, there is an opinion in all human kind, both Barbarians and Greeks, that is naturally implanted in them as rational beings and is not derived from any mortal teacher."
Iamblichus, in his great work "On the Mysteries," replying to a questioner who had said — "it must be granted that there are Gods" — says that it is not right to speak thus on this subject, "For an innate knowledge of the Gods is co-existent with our very essence; and this knowledge is superior to all judgment and deliberate choice, and subsists prior to reason and demonstration .... Hence it is not proper to grant this as if it might not be granted, nor assent to it as an equivocal matter (for it is always unically established in energy;) nor are we worthy thus to investigate it, as if we had
•Republic- Lib VII. 533 I). ■(•Dissertation I.
sufficient authority to approve or reject it. For we are comprehended in it, or f rather, we are filled by it, and we possess that very thing by which our essence is characterized in knowing the Gods."
The existence of this Idea in the human mind as one of its constituent elements, so to speak, can be denied only by those who are incapable of, or unwilling, to apprehend it. And it may well be asked — "to what purpose is this indelible image or idea of God in us, if there be no such thing as God existent in the world? Or who sealed so deep an impression of that character upon our minds ?"f Long ago Aristotle truly told mankind that God and Nature do nothing in vain; and a great Modern poet sings —
That not ■ worm is cloven in vain;
That nut a moth with vain desire
Is shrivelM in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's g;iin. (In Memorhim : LIII)
That we have the idea of God is admitted; how did we get it, unless it was imprinted upon every mind, or possessed by every mind by reason of its very nature? No rational explanation of the external origin of this Idea has ever been given, or can be given. "And if," as Maximus Tyrius says, J "through the whole of time there have been two or three atheists, grovelling and insensate men, whose eyes wander, whose ears are deceived, whose souls are mutilated, a race irrational, barren, and useless," — the existence of these intellectual abnormalities only shows the dominant, universal belief. True, since the time of Maximus Tyrius, the number of nominal atheists has increased, but this fact merely demonstrates the spiritual deterioration of the human race, and its consequent incapacity to deal with the supersen-
fl)r. Henry More: Antidote against Atheism, p, 27.
^Dissertation I.
suous or noumena. The idea of a First Cause is firmly and deeply Implanted in every human mind and cannot be erased, though it may be obscured and ignored, by reason of evil desires and sensual passions. It is useless to claim that the lives of certain modern scientists (physical) and philosophasters, who are professedly atheistic and materialistic, are moral. Their "morality" is necessarily conventional and utilitarian, and lacks the characteristics of permanency and immutability. The conduct which counts, the conduct which is "threefourths of life," must have an ethical motive and foundation, and these cannot be deduced from organized matter.
All government or society must have a religious basis. A state or government implies judicial proceedings, and these imply oaths, and oaths imply a Supreme Being.
History teaches that no state governed by atheists has ever flourished or endured. According to Plutarch and other ancient authorities, "several cities of Greece that had made experiment of them in public concerns, drove them out as incendiaries and pests of commonwealths by severe edicts and proclamations." (Plutarch, Cicero, Athenaeus, Aelian.)
A graphic example of atheism run mad maybe seen in the history of the French Revolution. The National Convention, composed chiefly of unmitigated scoundrels, ordained that God did not exist, and that an immortal soul was a fiction. But not for one solitary moment was the reign of God interrupted, nor was the immortality of a single soul diminished in the most infinitesimal degree. This gang of bloody cut-throats were fully entitled, by virtue of their characters and acts, to go to Hades by way of the guillotine, their own infernal instrument for the destruction of the good and noble— and, with but few exceptions, they all went that way. The
French Revolution began with a just demand for Liberty, but ended in a reign of brutality, lust, carnage and irreligion never before or since known to man. The lower or irrational element gained the ascendency over millions, and absolutely dominated the French nation for several years. Nor have the French, as a nation, profited by their experience of the practical effects of an atheistic government. At the present time the atheistic element is controlling the destinies of France. Lately there has been placarded all over that country a speech of the Minister of Labor, in which he boasts that the light of Heaven has been extinguished in France, and shall never be re-lighted; that "we," the Ministry, have dragged from his knees the sad and weary workman, and have told him that there is nothing beyond earth to help him; there is only a void, not a life.
Periodically, as shown by history, we are afflicted with a revival or outbreak of atheism and materialism, heralded by some man whose followers vehemently proclaim to have made a complete and final demonstration of the non-existence of a Deity, and the mortality of the human soul. Amid a beating of tom-toms, a clapping of hands, a stamping of feet, and a general uproar of applause, Prof. Haeckel was ushered on the stage a lew years ago. Here, was shouted, is the man who has solved all the problems of creation and life without the idle hypotheses of a God and a soul! I w r as not deceived by all this clamor. I had heard and read of similar uproars before. However, I procured Haeckel's Riddle of the Universe, his much-belauded and widely-circulated book, expecting to find at least some new so-called arguments, but found it to be in substance a mere rehash of the same old dreary stuff which the atheists and materialists have served up for thousands of years. It is a savage reflection on the intelligence of this age that
Sepl. No. lftO?, <if Llie Tlieosttphist.
this and other books of Haeckel have passed through main editions, and that his crude and empty conceptions have penetrated into the Normal schools, colleges and universities, and the public press. Verily, one would lUppoae, from the shouting and racket kept up by an unthinking rabble, that there was but one God — Matter and that II aeckel was his prophet! And yet Haeckel btl said nothing new or — true. What is announced with a llare of trumpets as new. up-to-date and progresllve, is the reverse. These conceptions are decrepit with age, out of date, and retrogressive.
When 1 introduced Haeckel into my library, I apologized to the mighty thinkers, whose works are there, for doing so. But his stay will be only temporary. Some cold morning I will pick Mr. Haeckel up with the tongs and kindle a fire with him. A book of this kind is not really worth the space which it occupies. It is of value only to the extent that it illustrates the vagaries and abortions of the human mind. The mind has wandered far and wide from its celestial abode, and the further it goes amid the particulars of the phenomenal world the more delirious its conceptions become. The book will harm no one whose mind has evolved beyond the animal plane. Its so-called arguments are puerile. It will confirm materialists in their views, and may influence those shallow minds who have only "opinions" on the subjects which Haeckel discusses. But let us examine some of Haeckel's stateme which seem so convincing to the unthinking, chiefly "words, words, words," as Hamlet s not bear critical examination. The reast simply impossible for physical science positions. Science — a cd by the materials only systematic marily exists in li
uniform intelligence of eternal entities; but in human souls it is a perception of eternal beings by the dianoetic power of the mind, or that power which reasons truly, deriving the principles of its reasoning from intellect.
There are no genuine facts, realities or truths in the world of phenomena or particulars with which the pseudo-scientist deals. The "fact" of today becomes the falsehood of tomorrow, after further investigation. As the things of matter and sense are constantly changing, there can be no fact or truth in them except of a temporary character, though, strictly speaking, no phenomenon can be characterized as a truth. And this is the reason why there can be no true science of particulars. Science implies absolute permanency and certainty. Nicephorus Blemmydes rightly says: "Science (£7rtGTT}jj.?f) has its name from bringing us to a stop and boundary (tin oraOrv) of things, taking us away from the unbounded nature and mutability of particulars; for it deals with subjects which are universal and immutable."
The scientists concede that they discover in their researches and experiments only provisional or temporary truths. Prof, J.J. Thompson writes at the beginning of his recent book, 'The Corpuscular Theory of Matter," that in physics a theory of matter is a policy rather than a creed, and that its function, apart from the co-ordination of phenomena.istostimulate and direct experiment, "For a number of years the molecular hypothesis has had the character of ascertained truth. Just at present its future availability is rendered extremely doubtful by the advantages which are claimed for the electron theory. If the electron theory in its radical form shall replace the theory of material atoms, on what basis will the change take place? Will it be because
"reality" is made of electrons instead of material molecules, or because the new theory performs precisely the same service, under conditions of wider observation, which the old theory performed under conditions of more restricted observations? Was the corpuscular theory of light believed in less confidently because it was eventually replaced by the ether theory? and what right have we to say that the ether theory has some a priori guarantee against being improved upon? And why should we not expect new observations which will require the revision or rejection of concepts? So long as the old concepts functioned properly and satisfied all the available tests and criteria, how were they distinguishable from "true" concepts?"
These quotations need little or no comment, but a question may be asked. How long will scientists persist in palming off upon an ignorant and unsuspecting public provisional phenomena for truths? I may note, also, the baseless assumption that the electron is spiritual and not material. The electron is simply a finer form of matter, finer than the atom: both are material. The nature of matter neves changes, but its forms, variations and phases are infinite.
Haeckel says (p. 192) that the dogma of the immortality of the soul is "not an original idea of the human mind, nor has it ever found universal acceptance." He claims that "many uncivilized races of the earliest and most primitive stage had no notion either of immortality or of God." He cites for instance the Veddahs of Ceylon, a tribe scarcely above the brutal species, as a people who have no idea of God. Neither has Haeckel. Therefore, according to his own statement, he and the Veddahs are on the same intellectual plane ! But neither Haeckel nor the Veddah, try as they may,
•Prof. Wendell T. Bush, in Jour, of Phil., Psychol, and Scientific Methods.
can eradicate original ideas from their minds. They may lose the grasp of them, they may fall into the back* ground of the consciousness.by reason of their immersion into sense and matter, but they will remain forever written on the tablets of their minds, despite the fact that they are unable to read them through their ignorance of the intellectual alphabet, Mr, I Iaeckel and the Veddah must first learn the alphabet, and by degrees work upward and out of the material quagmire in which they are now stranded.
All mortals lasting en rthly food
Ale doomed In |>ass the jnylcS-S Hood, And hear l lie Siygian roar.
The Veddahs, and all other human beings — -it matters not what their intellectual development may be — have the innate ideas referred to, though the consciousness or recognition of them varies according to every person's desire and capacity to apprehend them.
The fact that one can naturally, by reason of the original knowledge and divine aspirations which he possesses, evolve into full consciousness the ideas of a Supreme Deity and the immortality of the soul, is graphically illustrated in an Arabian philosophical romance, entitled Hai Ebn Yokdan, written by Ibn Tophail,* probably the finest philosophical romance in any language, which may be described as the adventures of an intellectual Robinson Crusoe. "In short, it describes the
Alni Lutein - Ibn Tophail, a noted Arabian physician, poet, mathematician, and philosopher, was horn fit Guadix, !S|>ain, in the year 1100, and died in Morocco in 1180, A. D. His ioo.hI famous work is the Life of Hai Ebn Yukilan, in which the Platonic doctrine respecting intuition ia pi etl.y (iceurately set forth. It is a very curious mid vuhmhle book, is generally esleemeil by the learned, and has been translated into French, German, Dutch, and English. The Arabic text, will) a Latin translation was Bret published by Edward Poencke, in 1071, nt Oxford, Eng. An English version by Simon Ockley, made from the Arabic, appeared in 1708. Recently an Abbreviated translation, from the Arabic, under the title, "The Awakening of the Soul, was published in London, which may he strongly recommended to the reader.
gradual awakening of the soul, the evolution of an original mind from its first groping in the dark to the most dazzling heights of philosophical speculation."
Haeckel, in accord with the shallow materialism and sensationalism of the age, believes in the relativity of all knowledge: he recognizes no universal standard of Truth — no absolute Truth. The doctrine of relativity, though held by the sensebound from all time, was first definitely enunciated by Protagoras, who said that "man is the measure of all things, existing - or not existing: things are to me as they appear to me, and to you as they appear to you." This strange paradox maintains, as Cudworth remarks, that both all being and knowledge are fantastical and relative only, and therefore that nothing is good or evil, just or unjust, true or false, white or black, absolutely and immutably, but relatively to every private person's humor or opinion. This doctrine, as stated and explained by Protagoras and his followers, ancient and modern, is an empty sophism, the absurdity and falsity of which were thoroughly exposed by Plato over two thousand years ago, but the reign of error will be coeval with that of ignorance. There is a sense, indeed, opposite to that of Protagoras and Haeckel, in which the statement that man is the measure or standard of all things, is true. But man, before he becomes competent to 'measure' any thing of the supersensuous order, must pass from "the darkness of the particular to the light of the universal." Truly did the profound Heraklitus say: "To live in the light of the universal order is to be awake, to turn aside into our own microcosm is to go to sleep." There are Absolute Ideas of Good, Justice, Beauty, Wisdom, etc., the truth of which is totally exempt from all human opinion and every form of mutability. The only knowledge which is worthy of the name is a participation of Ideas, and men can no otherwise gain this knowledge than by an apprehension
of the Absolute Ideas; and they can be said to 'know* only to the extent that they participate of them. Dr. Cocker rightly observes:* "All souls have the faculty of knowing but it is only by reflection, and self-knowledge, and intellectual discipline, that the soul can be raised to the vision of eternal truth, goodness, and beauty — that is, to the vision of God".f
The system of Haeckel is a pure monism — the theory that there is only one substance, and that substance matter; and that from it in some way all other forms of being are evolved. This theory is the summit of irrationality. The only monism which is rational is a monism of power, not of substance — the absolute supremacy of Mind over matter, of Good over evil, of the Ration over the irrational.
Haeckel and others tell us much about atoms and points of forces more minute than atoms — using contradictory terms, since the word "atom" signifies an indivisible particle of matter. But the theory of atoms in nearly all of its phases is for all practical purposes more ancient than the Pyramids of Egypt or Noah's Ark. It has always been the pet theory of atheists and materialists. They even believe that from the association and movement of atoms life and thought originate. But it is just as reasonable, as the celebrated Dr. Bentley said, that a flint and steel should, instead of a few sparks, chance to strike out definitions and syllogisms as "that dead senseless atoms can ever justle and knock one another into life and understanding.";];
•Christianity ami Greek Philosophy.
fFor « complete refutation of Una Protafforean dictum, see Plato's Taeaeietoa, and Cud worth's Treatise Concerning Eternal and ftiiuutiable Morality, which is largely !i valuable commentary <m the Theaetetue. Taylor's Dissertation <»n the Platonic Doctrine of Ideas contains a graphic characterization of the nature of Truth.
JBoyle Lectures, p. 43.
It may be noted that the atheistic scientists have never told us — and, it is safe to say, never will tell us, what caused these remarkable atoms to associate with and move among each other.
When the materialist declares that mind is corporeal and perishable, he strikes, though he may not know it, his assertion a sledge-hammer, deadly blow, for the thought originated with mind and not with body. Is a thought body or a product of body? Is it corporeal or material? If so, it is necessarily tangible, visible, audible, sensible and gustable. Are these adjectives, or any of them, descriptive of the nature of thought? No one will answer "yes," who knows the essential distinction between Sense and Intellect.
We read that man was created a little lower than the angels, *and Shakespeare exclaims— "What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god!"f This is an accurate description of the rational man, but does not apply to Mr. Haeckel and his crowd, who assert that this being, high in the order of existencies, is a mortal compound of diverse forms of matter — that he has no past, and will have no future. It is no wonder that the teachings of atheism and materialism have produced, and are producing, a vast crop of suicides. Of what value, according to Haeckel's doctrine, is human life? In what way is it worth living? If a man is wholly a material product, a mere transient insect, living an aimless or pernicious life for a few days, and then dropping into oblivion — he is not worthy of an education, or even a passing thought.
If Haeckel is right, the teachers of this and all other countries are wasting their time and the public
Epiatle to the HpUrews, II. 7. tHamlet: Act II. Scene 3.
money. Abolish all schools, public and private, and let man go the way of all other insects.
"Man's life," said the Saxon nobleman to the Saxon king, "is the sparrow which enters at a window, flutters around the house, and flies out at another, and none knoweth whence he came, or whither he goes," This Saxon illustration is false; the exact reverse is true. The sparrow — representing the mind of man — flies into a darkened room (the world) from the celestial light, flutters around a while, and flies out into the light again — - or, continues to flutter around amid the darkness of sense, and the oblivion of matter.
From the atheistic standpoint life is a mere dreary
routine of animal action, enlivened only by the pleasures
of sense:
'Twere best tit onoe to sink to peace, Like birds the charming serpent draws To drop head -foremost in the juvvs Of vacant darkness and to cense.
—{In Memorials: XXXIV).
And another poet sings of the misery of the earthly life — a misery, however, which can be surmounted and escaped from, if the soul so desires and wills:
The Butterfly the ancient Grecians nimle
The soul's fair emblem, and its only name —
But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade
Of earthly life — for in this mortal frame
Ours is the reptile's lot, ruueh toil, much blame,
Manifold motions making littlespeed,
And to deform and kill the Uiings whereon we feed.
— (Coleridge: The Butterfly).
The Emperor Marcus Aurelius said that he w T ould not endure to live one day in the world, if he did not believe it to be under the government of Providence.
Plato remarks that the chief cause of atheism is the immoderate desires and pleasures of men. f
"Meditations: Lib. II, eh. 8. +De Legibns, Lib. X. p. 886.
"Divinity always illuminates us,"saidXenocrates,"but the blessed light is not always perfectly received, on account of matter and the perturbations arising from human affairs, through which we suffer perpetual molestation. For by how much purer our soul is when we pray to God, by so much greater is our aptitude to receive from him the good, beautiful and just things, which are the objects of our wish."
The Epicurean or atheistic doctrine that all happiness arises from the pleasures of the senses, is eloquently repudiated and refuted by an English Platonist of the 17th century, who says: "and, certainly, were the highest happiness of mankind such a thing as might be felt by a corporeal touch; were it of so ignoble a birth as to spring out of this earth, and to grow up out of this mire and clay; we might well sit down and bewail our unhappy fates, that we should rather be born men than brute beasts, which enjoy more of this world's happiness than we can do, without any sin or guilt. ... I dare say that all those that have any just esteem of humanity cannot but, with a noble scorn, disdain such a base-born happiness as this is, generated only out of the slime of this earth; and yet this is all the portion of atheism, which teaches the entertainers of it to believe themselves nothing else but so many heaps of more refined dust, fortuitously gathered together, which, at last, must be all blown away again."
St. Augustine, who may justly be termed the founder of Western Theology, says: "Who is so blind that he does not see that the facts of Geometrical Science dwell in Truth itself, or truth in them — but whether they are in truth, or truth in them, no one will
♦Select Discourses, by John Smith: p. 52. Rev. Dr. John Smith (1616-1652) was one of the famous Cambridge Platonists, who flourished in the seventeenth century. He was a profound thinker, and his Select Discourses is a book which will always be highly prized by the lovers of true Wisdom.
deny that they are contained in our mind, and by reason of this truth is necessarily in the mind. But if every science is so in the mind as inseparably in a subject, neither can truth ever perish; and the mind is therefore immortal. Believe at least your own reasons, believe the voice of Truth — which cries out that she dwells in you, and is immortal ! Nor can her abode ever be subverted by any death of the body. Turn from your shadow — return to your self: there is no annihilation for you, except so far as you forget that you cannot perish."
The last sentence of St. Augustine, which involves a deep thought, is well illustrated by the following passage from the Bhagavad Gita or Song Celestial, one of the world's greatest spiritual poems: "When a man thinks of the objects of pleasure he becomes attached to them. By attachment is produced desire, by the checking of desire anger, by anger comes into existence forgetfulness, by forgetfulness loss of memory, by loss of memory destruction of knowledge, by destruction of knowledge he himself is destroyed." (II. 62-63.)
The Platonic proofs of the immortality of the human mind have the force and effect of a demonstration to those who have risen above the plane of Sense, and by those alone can they be apprehended. The proof drawn from the essential self-activity of the mind is especially convincing and decisive. f
Thrown into the syllogistic form, for the convenience of presentation, the argument may be stated thus:
1. The mind is self-active: whatever is self-active is ever in action; therefore the mind is ever in action. .
2. The mind is ever in action: whatever is ever in action is immortal; therefore the mind is immortal.
3. The mind is self-active: whatever is self-active
SoWoq. Lib. II. XIX, 33.
fFor the full Demonstration see the Commentary of Ilei meias on Hie Phnerirus.
is the principle of activity; therefore the mind is a principle of activity or motion.
4. The mind is a principle of activity: whatever is the principle of activity is not subject to birth; therefore the mind is not subject to birth.
5. The mind is not subject to birth: whatever is not subject to birth is immortal; therefore the mind is immortal.
6. The mind is self-active: whatever is self-active is the principle of activity; whatever is the principle of activity is not subject to birth; whatever is not subject to birth is immortal; therefore the mind is immortal.
In order to appreciate this argument, we must seize the essential distinction between Mind, which moves or acts, and body, which is moved or acted upon.
Proclus, one of the mighty thinkers of Antiquity, rightly observes: f Every thing which acts is incorporeal; for, though it be body which acts, it is by incorporeal powers that it acts."
The demand of the materialists for physical proofs of the existence and immortality of the Mind is really ludicrous, and cannot be considered seriously. How are you going to prove to the frog that there is any country beyond the boundary of his own pool? How are you going to convince the fish that there is any water other than the stream in which he swims, if he will not swim out and explore for himself? The frog and fish live exclusively on the plane of sense, and believe in nothing which they do not see or smell or feel or touch or hear. And the condition of the materialist is the same.
Ethnologists tell us that there are tribes that cannot count above eignt, or even less. How are you going to prove to these enlightened gentlemen that twelve and three make fifteen? All modern psychology is
Com. in Tim. Lib. II. p. 211, ed. Schneider.
based on Locke, and it has remained locked or stationary within the domain of sense and matter.
When you analyze the demand of the materialists you will find that what they mean by "proofs' is, the bringing within the grasp of their senses ideas which are absolutely supersensuous. This cannot be done, by reason of the very nature of Ideas. Real proofs are only obtained through insights, and insights are only open to those who have thrown off their material shackles. Only when the mind acts by itself, independent of its corporeal instrument and impediment, is it able to gain insight, and grasp the absolute realities. This is done by the simple energy of intellect.
Theophrastus has a remarkable and illuminating passage on this subject: "To a certain extent, therefore, we are able to survey principle through cause, deriving assistance for this purpose from senseperceptions. But when we pass on to summits and things which are primary we can no longer do this, /. e„ survey them through cause; either by reason of the fact that they have no cause, or on account of our inability to look as it were at the most luminous of tilings. Perhaps, however, it would be truer to say, that the contemplation or insight of intellect is by contact and as it were adhesion. Hence there is no deception in the survey of these objects by intellect: but such an apprehension as this, and the fa it/i by which it is attended, are difficult." Taylor notes that this simple and self-visive energy of intellect, by which it speculates things themselves, and by intuition and contact becomes one with the object of its perception, is called by Plato in the Phaedo 9eio? XoyoS, divine reason\ and by the best of the Platonists voepa £7rifio\?}, intellectual intuition.
The idea of Freedom is innate and an essential constituent element of the human mind. The fact that the mind can determine its own thoughtSjdesires and actions is
practically recognized by every one. And this is a proof of its immaterial nature — for the Will is absolutely independent of organized matter; it is in no sense a function of matter, which is not endowed with liberty or freedom of action. The Epicurean Lucretius, the greatest ancient exponent of unadulterated materialism, whose theories the moderns substantially repeat, admits his inability to account, with material factors alone, for the Freedom of the Will. He says: "Whence, I ask, has been wrested from the fates the power by which we go forward whither the Will leads each, by which likewise we change the direction of our motions, neither at a fixed time nor fixed place, but where and when the mind itself has prompted? For beyond a doubt in these things his own will makes for each a beginning, and from this beginning motions are conducted through the limbs."
This inability has been transmitted to his successors. Not one of them ever has or ever will explain the existence and function of the Will by any theory of material organization. But, be it remembered, that man is free only to the degree that he is rational. Says Goethe :
Freedom and Life are only merited
By those who earn these, day by day. — (Faust.)
Thomas Aquinas, the mighty medieval thinker, whose teachings still dominate millions, pertinently remarks:+ "Irrational animals have a kind of free determination or action, but not a free judgment; while inanimate things, being dependent for their every determination on things other than themselves, have not so much as free action, or determination. On the contrary, rational beings have not only free action but also free
fSumma Contra Gentiles, Lib. II. eh. 48.
judgment, which is having free will," The theory is that action is self-determined in all animals; judgment on the propriety of action is self determined in the rational man alone among; animals. That self-determination of judgment means free will; that free will is due to the power of forming universal ideas of the suitahle and the good.
All atheists and materialists are logically anarchists, whatever personal opinions they may hold to the contrary. The Emperor Caligula expressed the wish that the Roman people had but one head, so that he might slay them all with a stroke of his sword. Would that the gang of atheists, materialists and anarchists were so constituted that one blow would exterminate them intellectually! Aristotle, according to the Emperor Julian, (Orat. VII), did not consider that people of this kind were worthy of an answer: "For he says that those who inquire or, in short, argue as if they were dubious about the existence of divinities, do not deserve to be answered as men, but to be punished as brutes."
It is a noteworthy and significant fact that all the material civilization, and all the scientific inventions and discoveries, boasted of by Haeckel, originated with men who believed in God, Freedom and Immortality.
Another most important fact is, that some of the famous modern materialists have progressed sufficiently to see and admit that their former views were fundamentally false — in other words, they have abandoned the materialistic theory — exchanged monism for dualism. Wundt, one of Haeckel's heroes — he says that he is considered to be the ablest living psychologist — published two editions of his chief book, the second thirty years after the first. In the first, says Haeckel, "he is purely monistic and materialistic; in the second edition purely dualist ic and spiritualistic. Wundt observes that he learned many years ago to consider the work a
sin of his youth; it weighed on him as a kind of crime, from which he longed to free himself as soon as possible." Haeckel says that "this entire change of philosophical principles which we find in Wundt, as we found it in Kant, Virchow, Du Bois Reymond, Karl Ernst Baer, and others, is very interesting."
No doubt it is very interesting, but it is more than interesting: it shows conclusively that, as men develop intellectually, as they become able to think more profoundly, they see the utter falsity and absurdity of the monistic and materialistic theories. And it is a strong reflection on Haeckel that he lacks the capacity to do this, which he admits.
The chief cause of all forms of atheism is the insatiable and insensate devotion to the gratification of the corporeal appetites, and the getting of money, which cause the mind to sink deeper and deeper into the quagmire of sense and matter, thereby gradually losing all intellectual insight. Thus environed, it is easy to see how and why people cannot apprehend conceptions beyond the sensuous and the region of the understanding. Iamblichus acutely observes: "Man deprived of sense and intellect together is reduced to the condition of a plant; deprived of intellect alone he becomes a brute; deprived of irrationality, but yet remaining in the possession of intellect, he becomes similar to Deity."^
But man is free: he may choose the form of life which he desires; he makes his own environment. We therefore cannot justly lament, if we suffer the consequences of our own acts. Truly did Plotinus say: "If we are content to be fatted sheep, we cannot complain if we become the prey of the wolves."
Haeckel is now the rage, but Haeckel's day is rapidly passing, and soon we will hear of another tre-
♦Riddle of the Universe, p. 102.
^Exhortation to the Slndy of Philosophy, p. 26 of my translation.
mendous thinker, who has solved all the problems. The old straw will again be threshed out, a new name will be given to the product, and then there will be another grand beating of tom-toms and tumult of applause amid which the new Goliath of Atheism will step on the public stage.
The question is, how often is this performance going to be repeated? How long will people, presumably of fair intelligence, eagerly welcome and accept the revamped, worn-out theories put forth by human earth worms from time immemorial?
The complete refutation of the whole monistic or materialistic scheme is contained in three propositions — propositions as true as that 5 plus 5 make 10.
1. That two absolutely distinct and essentially different substances exist — Mind and Matter: Mind which rules, and Matter, which is ruled.
2. That the nature of Mind is totally immutable.
3. That the nature of Matter is totally immutable. I conclude with the golden saying of Novalis:
••Philosophy cannot bake bread, but she can procure for us God, Freedom and Immortality. Which, then, is more practical — Philosophy or Political Economy?"
Platonic
Demonstration of the Immortality of the Soul
Translated from the Original Greek of Hermeias
"Every soul is immortal; for that which is always active is immortal. But that which imparts activity to another thing, and is made active by another, in ceasing to act also ceases to live. Hence that alone which is self-active, because it does not desert itself, never ceases to be active; but this is also the fountain and principle (beginning) of activity to such other things as are made active. But a principle is unbegotten; for it is necessary that every thing which is generated should be generated from a principle, but a principle from none. For if it were generated from any thing, it would not be a principle (beginning.) Since, therefore, it is unbegotten, it must of necessity be indestructible. For if a principle were destroyed, it could neither itself at any time be generated from any thing, nor any thing be generated from it, since it is necessary that every thing be generated from a principle. Hence the principle of activity is that which is self-active; and this can neither be de-
Plato has demonstrated the immortality of the rational soul in three of his dialogues, viz., in the Phaedo, in the Tenth Book of the Republic, and in the Phaedrus. But though the arguments employed by him in each of these Dialogues, in proof of this most important truth, will be found to possess, by those who understand them, incontrovertible evidence; yet it appears to me that this is peculiarly the case with the reasoning in the Phaedrus, which is not only, in I he language of Plato, accompanied by geometrical necessities, but is at once admirably subtle and singularly sublime — T.
There are two editions of the Scholia or Commentary of Hermeias on the Phaedrus: the first bv Fred. Ast, Lips., 1810, and the second and best, which I have used, by P. Couvrenr, Paris, 1901.
stroyed nor begotten, else must all heaven and all created nature collapse and stop, and never at any time find that whereby they may be again made active and come into being. Since, then, it appears that the nature which is self-active is immortal, none will hesitate to assert that self-activity is the essence and definition of the soul. For every body to which activity externally accedes is inanimate; but that to which activity is inherent from itself is animated — as if this were the very nature of soul. If, however, this be true, and there is nothing else which is self-active except the soul it necessarily follows that the soul is unbegotten and immortal."— Phaedrus: 245 C.
In the first place, it must be inquired about what kind of a soul Plato is speaking. For some think, among whom is Poseidonius the Stoic, that it is about the soul of the world alone, because the word itaoa (all) is used, and it is added, 'else must all heaven and all created nature collapse and stop." But others say that it is simply concerning every soul, including even that of an ant or a fly, and of this opinion was Harpok rati on. For he understands the word waoa to signify 'every' soul. If, however, it be requisite neither to restrict the problem nor to extend it simply to all animals, we must assume from Plato himself what kind of soul it is of which he is now speaking. He says, therefore, that it is necessary in the first place to speak about the nature of soul, both the divine and the human, i, e., about every rational soul; so that the present discourse is concerning the rational soul. To which we may add, that the ancients are accustomed to call the rational soul that which is rightly and peculiarly the soul. For they call that which is above it intellect, and that which is beneath it not simply soul but the irrational soul, and mortal form of soul, and the secondary trace of life, and the irrational life or the animation of the vital spirit —
the life which is distributed about bodies, and the like. But they denominated the rational element that which is peculiarly and characteristically the soul, and this is justly called man. He previously, however, enunciates the conclusion, since he is about to make the demonstration from things which are essentially inherent in the soul, and which pertain to it, so far as it is soul — on this account, therefore, he first enunciates the conclusion, indicatingby so doing that the why is contractedly comprehended in the that. For the soul possesses the immortal from its essence. Hence, prior to the evolved, divided, and expanded demonstration, he gives the contracted and that which con tarns the why tog-ether with the that. But there are here two demonstrative syllogisms, through which the immortality of the soul is demonstrated, and which directly prove that it is so; and there is also another syllogism which demonstrates this, through a deduction to an impossibility. Why, however, is there this number of syllogisms? For the intention of Plato was not simply to adduce a multitude of arguments, since in this case he would have employed many others, as he does in the Phaedo; but he uses such as are adapted to each subject of discussion. For now, as we have already observed, he adduces arguments derived from the essence of the soul, and from things which are essentially inherent in it. In answer to this it must be said that, since it is proposed to demonstrate that the soul is immortal, if we see how many modes there are of corruption, and show that the soul is not corrupted according to any one of them, we shall then have demonstrated that it is incorruptible and indestructible; and it will also be evident that it is immortal. For everything which is corrupted, is corrupted in a twofold respect. For either it is itself corrupted by itself, through the matter which it contains, or it is corrupted externally. Wood, for instance, by alone lying on the
ground is corrupted through the putrefaction which is in itself, for it contains in itself the cause of its corruption. Plato also says in the Republic, that everything which is corrupted, is corrupted by its own appropriate evil — or, externally, by being burned and cut. Since, therefore, there are two modes of corruption, on this account Plato adduces two syllogisms. For one of these demonstrates that the soul is not corrupted by itself, which he shows through its being selfactive and perpetually active; but the other syllogism demonstrates that neither is the soul corrupted by anything else, which he shows through it being the principle of activity.
Shall we say. therefore, that each of these syllogisms is imperfect, but that the demonstration derives perfection from both? Or, shall we say that in either of them the other is comprehended, but that the peculiarity of each previously presents itself to the view? And that which is not corrupted by itself cannot be corrupted by another thing: for having itself in itself the cause of preserving itself, and always being present Avith itself, how can it be corrupted by anything else? For that which is self-active is a thing of this kind, as will be demonstrated. And that which is not corrupted by another thing, but is the principle and cause of other things being preserved, cannot be corrupted in any way by itself: and the principle of activity will be demonstrated to be a thing of this kind. For neither will it be corrupted by the things which are above it, since it is preserved by them; nor by the things posterior to itself, since it is the cause of their being and life. If, therefore, it cannot be corrupted by anything else, how, since it is the fountain of life, can it be corrupted by itself? Hence, as we have said, each of the arguments is of itself perfect, and comprehends in itself the other. But one of them shows and is characterized by this, that the
soul is not corrupted by itself; and the other by this, that the soul is not corrupted by any other thing. Let us, however, in the first place, arrange the propositions of the syllogisms in order, since Plato did not state them logically.
The first syllogism, therefore, is as follows: The soul is self-active: That which is self-active is perpetually active: That which is perpetually active is immortal: The soul, therefore, is immortal. Hence this reasoning shows us that the soul is not corrupted by itself. But the second syllogism is: The soul is self-active: That which is self-active is the principle of activity: The principle of activity is unbegotten: The unbegotten is incorruptible: The incorruptible is immortal: The soul, therefore, is immortal. And this reasoning demonstrates to us that the soul is not corrupted by any other thing. The truth of the assumptions, therefore, we shall accurately discuss in what follows. But now considering the first and common proposition of the two syllogisms by itself, that the soul is self-active, which Plato arranges in the last place of the whole reasoning, let us survey how that which is self-active is the first of things that are made active, especially since no casual man (*". <?., Aristotle) doubts concerning the existence of the selfactive essence. And perhaps it will be found that the philosophers do not dissent from each other. For Aristotle indeed takes away all corporeal motions or activities from the soul; which we also say is most true. But Plato clearly shows that the motions or activities of the soul are different from all corporeal motions. For he says in the tenth book of the Laws: "that soul conducts everything in the heavens, the earth, and the sea, by its motions, the names of which are: to will, to consider^ to attend providentially to other things, to deliberate, to opine rightly and falsely \ together with rejoicing and grieving, confiding and distrusting, hating and loving, and other
primary activities akin to these." That there is, therefore, a certain principle of motion or activity, and that it is that which is self-active, will be from hence evident. For as it is manifest that there is that which is alter-motive, this will be moved either by another alter-motive nature, and that by another, and so on to infinity; or alter-motive natures will move each other in a circle, so that the first will again be moved by the last; or, if it is not possible that either of these modes can take place, it is necessary that the selfmotive nature have the precedency. It is evident, therefore, that motive natures cannot proceed to infinity; for neither is there the infinite in essence, nor is there any science of infinities. But neither is it possible for motive natures to be moved in a circle. For the order of beings would be subverted, and the same thing would be both cause and effect; so that it is necessary there should be a certain principle of motion or activity, and that motion should neither be to infinity, nor in a circle. This principle of motion, however, which is soul, according to both of the philosophers, Plato says is self-moved, but Aristotle immovable. But that it is necessary this principle of motion should be demonstrated to be self-moved, even from the dogmas of Aristotle, you may learn from hence. In all beings nature does not proceed without a medium from a contrary to a contrary — as, for instance, from winter to summer, but it is entirely requisite that a medium should precede, at one time spring, and at another time autumn; and the like takes place in all bodies and incorporeal essences. Here, likewise, as there are the alter-motive and the immovable natures, it is necessary there should be a medium between the two which is the self -motive essence, being one and the same in number and the subject. For that which Aristotle calls the selfmoved nature, as for instance the animal, is not that which is now proposed for investigation. For the ani-
mal, according to him, being composed of the immovable and alter-motive, he says that the whole is selfmoved. So that, as there is that which is entirely immovable, such for instance as the principle of all things; and as there is that which is alter-motive, such as bodies, there will be between them the selfmoved nature, which is nothing else than the soul. For that which we see moved by it, this we say is animated or alive, so that the very nature of soul is self-activity, or the moving of itself by itself. There are, therefore, these three things according to Aristotle, viz., intellect, life, and being. And in the first place, that we may speak of being, as there is something which is generated from another thing and which receives existence from another, there is also that which imparts existence to itself, such as the heaven and intellect, which, he says, always exist unbegotten by any other cause. For according to him they are neither generated by a cause, nor are they generated in time, but they are always unbegotten, and the causes of existence to themselves. And, again, in life there is that which receives life from other things; for man and the sun generate man; and there are also things which have life from themselves, such as the heaven and intellect. For they have not an adscititious, but a connascent life. Further still, as there are things which receive from others the power of intellectual perception, and become through them intellective, as the intellect which is in capacity; [so,] according to Aristotle, there is also intellect which is in energy, which possesses from itself intellectual perception, and intellectually perceives itself.* Hence from all this it follows that as there is that which is moved by another thing, there is also necessarily that which is the cause
And tliis intellect in energy is the medium between the intelligible, properly so-called, which is superior to intellect, and the intellect which is in capacity.
to itself of being - moved, and imparts self-motion or activity to itself. For, otherwise, it would be absurd to pass entirely from the alter-motive to the immovable without assuming that which is self-moved as the medium; in the same manner as it is absurd to pass from that which is generated, and which only sometimes exists, to that which is super-essential non-being, without assuming being as the medium. For it will be immanifest what kind of nonbeing we assume, whether that which is inferior to a generated nature, or that which is superior to it, unless we assume the intermediate nature, which is eternal being. Thus, likewise, in motion, it will be immanifest what kind of the immovable we assume, whether that which is subordinate, or that which is superior to the alter-motive nature, unless the selfmoved is assumed as a medium. And the like takes place in life, intellect, and other things.
This self-motive motion, therefore, is demonstrated by the philosopher in the Laws, to be the first principle of all other motions, and the cause of them according to all the significations of cause. For it is the effective, the paradigmatic, and the final cause of them, and these alone are proper causes. For the formal cause is in the effect, and the effect is itself. And the material cause is much more remote from being properly cause, since it has the relation of things without which others are not affected.* Hence, that the self-moved nature is the effective cause of other motions is evident, as Plato demonstrates in the Laws. "For if all things," says he, "should stand still, what would that be which would be firstmoved?" Is it not evident that it must be the selfmoved nature? For if that which accedes to the motive cause is moved, and all other beings are alter-motive, but that which is self-motive possesses in itself a motive power, and does not merely approximate to it, but is
♦Because it is that from which or in which other things are afftsetcil.
united to it, or rather has motion for its essence, it is evident that this, being first moved, will move other things. For as, If the sun did not set and rise, but was immovable, we should be dubious about the cause of so great a light; and if he were invisible to the things which he illuminates, we should be still more dubious, — thus, also, with respect to the soul, since, being invisible, it is the cause of all motions, it occasions us to doubt how this is affected. As, therefore, the Sun who illuminates all things, much more makes himself luminous; so, likewise, the soul, which moves all things, by a much greater priority moves itself. For every cause begins its energy from itself; and you will find that the motions or activities of the soul are the paradigms of corporeal motions.
Let us, then, assume the corporeal motions, .which are eight in number, and rather passive than effective, viz.: generation, corruption, increase, diminution, lation, circulation, mixture, and separation. In the soul, therefore, there is increase (development); when, giving itself to more excellent natures, it multiplies its intellections. But there is corruption in it when, departing from thence, it becomes more imbecile and more sluggish in its intellectual perceptions. Again, generation* takes place in it when it ascends from this terrene abode. But the corruption of it is its last lapse from the intelligible. And mixture, indeed, in it, is collected intelligence, and at the same time the contemplation of forms; but separation in it may be said to be a more partial intelligence, and the contemplation of one form only. Again, lation in the soul is the motion of it according to a right line, and into the realms of generation; but circulation is its periodic revolution about forms, its evolution, and its restitution to the same condition. Circulation, therefore, may be more appropriately assigned to divine
•For Hi is is us it wave a »«w birth of llur soul.
souls, but lation to ours. You may also perceive in divine souls both of these motions. For the Demiourgos, says Plato in the Timaeus, taking two right lines bent them into a circle. Hence it is evident that the circular inflection and intelligence of the soul is not without the right line. For he assigns to intellect alone to be purely moved to a circle. But the ninth motion, which is that of incorporeal natures about bodies, such as calefactions, refrigerations, and animations, has a paradigmatic cause in the soul, so far as the soul gives life to bodies.
And thus we have sufficiently shown that there are motions of souls which are the paradigms of corporeal motions. It remains, therefore, to demonstrate that the motions of the soul are the final causes of other motions. [The demonstration of this is wanting in the original. It may however, be summarily shown as follows, that the motions of the soul are the final causes of other motions: The motions of the soul are, as has been demonstrated, the effective causes of other motions. Everything desires good. Good is proximately imparted to every thing from its proper cause. And consequently other motions are converted to the motions of the soul. But that which is the object of conversion to any thing, is that for the sake of which that thing subsists, i, e., it is the final cause. The motions of the soul, therefore, are the final causes of all other motions.]
Immortality, indeed, is not predicated of the soul as a certain other thing, but is co essentialized in the very essence of it, and unically comprehends the whole demonstration. For immortality is a certain life in the same manner as self-motion. Plato, therefore, afterwards adduces an evolved and expanded demonstration, when he says: "for that which is always moved is immortal"
ketc, omitting to say that the soul is self-moved, as being common to the two syllogisms, and intending to in-
troduce it as the last of the four arguments, where also we may more accurately investigate it. Now, however, prior to the discussion of the parts of the first arguments, let us logically adapt the words themselves of Plato to the propositions.
All the propositions, therefore, of the syllogism are three: The soul is selfmoved; the selfmoved is always moved; that which is always moved is immortal. But, as we have said, the first and smallest of all the propositions which say the soul is self-moved, is ranked as the last. For the third and greatest of all of them is placed first, as being connective of the whole reasoning; and this is that in which Plato says: "for that which is always moved is immortal." But the proposition posterior to this, which says that which is selfmoved is always moved, is introduced through the contrary, the altermotive, together with demonstration. For Plato here says: "Btit thai which moves another thing, and is moved by another" i, <?., the alter-motive nature, ,l i?i consequence of having a cessation of motion" i. e., not being always moved, has also a cessation of life, i. e., is not immortal. If, therefore, that which is moved by another, in consequence of not being always moved is not immortal, that which is self-moved, being always moved, is immortal. All the propositions, however, are assumed essentially, and so far as each of them is that which it is. For from that which is moved by another, it is not only demonstrated that the self-moved is always moved, but also that the always-moved is self-moved; so that they convert — as, for instance, the self-moved is always moved, and the always-moved is self-moved. For if that which is moved by another has a cessation of motion, i. e„ if the alter-motive is not always moved, it will be evident that the always-moved is self-moved. For this is collected by the second hypothetic syllogism. For if the alter-motive is not always-moved, it is evident
that the always-moved is not alter-motive. But that which is not altcr-motive is self-motive. And from the words, ''because it does not desert itself" it is inferred that everything which is always-moved is selfmoved. For if the alter-motive is likewise always-moved, it is in consequence of subsisting in conjunction with the motive cause. Much more, therefore, will that which is self-moved be always-moved, because it is not only always present with itself, but is united to itself.
Resuming, however, the consideration of the propositions, let us endeavor to render them as perspicuous as possible. "The soul is set 7- active!' By activity or motive here we must understand the life of the soul. The soul therefore is selfvital, containing" in itself the principle and fountain of life. For if nature had intended that bodies should be selfmoved, she would have inserted in them the principle and fountain of motion. But now, since it is necessary that they should rank as alter-motive natures, she generated bodies receiving the principle of motion from other things. The soul likewise is seen deliberately choosing many things and performing many according to its own proper, deliberate choice. But this would not be the case if it were not self-active. At the same time, also, if you look to the nature of the thing, you will find, on account of its clearness, a great abundance of arguments in proof of this. Plato, however, exciting our recollection from clear evidence and from the last of things, says that when we see a body incapable of being moved by itself, we immediately say that it is inanimate; but when we perceive a body which can move itself we immediately say that it is animated, in consequence of spontaneously inferring that self-motion or activity is the form and definition of the soul. But from that which is in our power I you may especially demonstrate the selfmotive nature of the soul. For if well-being is more excellent and
perfect than being, but the soul perfects itself, it is manifest that as it imparts to itself that which is more excellent, viz., well-being, and excites and perfects itself, it will much more impart to itself that which is less excellent, viz., being or existence. The being of the soul, however, is nothing else than life: but life is motion or activity. It is evident therefore that the soul will impart to itself motion: hence it is selfmoved. But that which imparts life to other things will much more impart life to itself, says the Oracle. For that which vivifies other things will in a much greater degree impart vivification to itself; so that the soul, by imparting life to itself, will vivify and elevate itself. But life is motion or activity: the soul therefore will impart motion to itself: and hence it is selfmoved. For divine natures, and those that first impart anything, begin their energies from themselves; just as the sun that illuminates all things is light itself, and the fountain of light. Soul, therefore, which imparts life and self-motion to other things — for animals, according to Aristotle, are self-moved — is much more self-moved, and life, and the fountain of psychical life.
But that which is selfmoved is demonstrated to be always moved, by showing that the self-moved alone is always moved, and is alone immortal, from assuming the former propositions by themselves, and so far as they are essentially what they are. Plato, therefore, demonstrates from the altermotive that the selfmoved is always moved. For it is evident that the alter-motive has not its motion from itself; and on this account it is called alter-motive. Hence, receiving this temporally from something else, it also loses it in time. But that which imparts motion to itself essentially, as being always present with itself, and the giver and receiver being one and the same, will be always moved. Plato, however, manifests that he assumes motion in life. "For
having** says he, "a cessation of motion, it has also a
cessation of life."
But that the alter-motive has a cessation of motion, i. e., is not always moved, is evident from hence. For as there are these two things, the mover and that which is moved, it is necessary, either that the mover should accede to that which is moved, and thus should move it, just as we do when we move a stone; or that the tiling moved should accede to the mover, and thus should be moved, just as the soul, betaking itself to intellect, is moved by it, and surveys the forms which it contains; or it is necessary that both should accede to each other, in the same manner as the master and disciple, for the disciple gives himself to be excited by the master, and the master hastens to excite the disciple, and, in short, is converted to him. These things, therefore, thus subsisting, that which is alter-motive is not able of itself to accede to the mover; for its very existence consists in being moved by something else. Hence, in order that what is moved by another may be always moved, it is necessary that the motive cause should be converted to it. In wholes, however, and eternal natures, it is not lawful for things which are more excellent to be converted to natures subordinate to themselves. For more excellent natures would subsist for the sake of others, and subordinate natures would be things for the sake of which others subsist, which is most absurd. That which is alter-motive, therefore, will not be always moved in this way, i. *., through the conversion of eternal natures to it. But if it is to be moved at a certain time, it is necessary that it should be led by something else to the motive cause, not merely locally, but also according to aptitude. If, therefore, another thing conjoins it to the motive cause from a certain time, it will again in a certain time be separated from this cause. For universally all things which are generated
by causes that are mutable are generated and corrupted in time; but things which are generated by immutable causes are generated perpetually in a manner invariably the same.
Some one, however, may say, how is the sublunary region always moved, since*it is altermotive? May it not be said that it is never always the same, nor remains the same according to number, except in form; so that if it is not the same according to its subject, how will it be always moved? For, being corrupted according to its parts, it always remains in the same form. But if neither generation is able to accede of itself to the heavens, nor the heavens are converted to generation, in consequence of it not being proper that more excellent should be converted to less excellent natures, whence does generation receive its aptitude? May it not be replied that the motion of the heavens, being efficacious, acts on sublunary natures, celestial natures not being converted to them, just as the sun illuminates, not by being converted to the illuminated substances, but by sympathy? But how is the heaven not alter-motive, but self-moved, since it is a body? And if it is alter-motive how will it be always moved? May it not be said that 'the heaven is neither alter-motive, nor simply body, but an immaterial body? We also say that the self-moved is twofold, the one being simple and impartible, which is properly self-moved, but the other, having now pro* ceeded into interval, is not simply impartible. For so far as it is distended with bulk, so far it is changed from that which is properly self-moved; but so far as it participates of a connascent life in its essence, so that it is not possible, even in definition, to separate that body from the life of it, so far it has also self-motion in its proper essence. For self-motion is the peculiarity of soul and life. As therefore it is impossible for a material body to be uncolored and unfigured, thus also it is
still more impossible for a celestial body to be lifeless and inanimate. And thus you may see the coalition of it with soul. The summits, likewise, of secondary natures, are always united to the extremities of first natures, in order that there may be a certain continuity, and that no vacuum may intervene; since, again, another nature would be requisite, which may fill up that which is between. Since, therefore, an ethereal body is the first of bodies, but soul is the last of intelligibles, these ought to be conjoined to each other, and possess a mutual similitude; so that a celestial body is soul amplified into bulk, and life extended into triple dimension. Hence the life which is in it is connascent, and nature in it is mingled with life. There are also in it many other forms of animals.
But it may be said, let the soul, so far as it is soul, be self-moved, and always-moved, yet nothing hinders it from being corrupted. To this we reply, that either the energy of it, i. e., its self-motion or activity must first cease, but the existence of it be afterwards corrupted; or the existence of it first, but the self-motion of it afterwards; or both these must cease at once. For besides these there are no other cases. If the essence, therefore, of it is corrupted, it is not possible to devise how the energy of it can be saved. But neither, vice versa, is it possible, in the hypothesis before us, that, the energy being corrupted, the essence of the soul can be saved; for to assert this would be to forget the hypothesis which says that the soul, so far as it is soul, will be self-moved. So that it is not possible for self-motion to be corrupted, but the soul to remain. For, as the hypothesis says, 'so far as it is soul it will be selfmoved.' If, therefore, everything which is corrupted first loses its energy, but the soul, according to the hypothesis, so far as it is soul does not lose its energy, being self-active, it is also incorruptible.
Let, however, the third case be supposed, that the soul may be corrupted at one and the same time with its energies. We ask, therefore, whether it will be corrupted by itself, or by some external cause? But it will not, indeed, be corrupted by itself, because it preserves itself by moving itself. And it will not be corrupted by external causes, because it would thus be alter-motive instead of self-motive. Hence it will not be corrupted together with its energies. Besides, by what external cause could it be corrupted? Shall we say by natures more excellent than itself? But these are rather the saviors than the destroyers of it. Can it, therefore, be corrupted by natures inferior to it? Over these, however, it possesses a despotic power, and is the fountain of their motions. For, as there are ten motions, the motion alone of the soul is generative of all the others. But, the soul being self-moved, you may also more concisely infer that it is always moved, as follows, as we have already observed respecting self-motion. That which perfects itself, likewise produces itself. For that which perfects imparts good to itself. But that which simply produces anything, imparts existence to it. Well-being, however, is more excellent than being. Since, therefore, the soul perfects itself, it will also produce itself. But the essence of it is life, which it also imparts to other things. Hence it will impart life and existence to itself. That, however, which is always present with that which imparts existence, always is. But the soul is always present with itself. Hence the soul always is, so that it is always self-moved, and always moved. For in reality an injury would be done to anything in the universe which should be deprived of that which it imparted to itself. For it would not be injured in being deprived of that which it received from another; but it is injured, if that is taken away from it which it imparts to itself.
The last proposition, however, is not attended with any ambiguity, viz., that what is always moved is immortal. For if, according to the hypothesis, it were mortal and corruptible, it would no longer be always moved. So that all the propositions are not only true, but they are so essentially so as to be equal in power and convertible. What, then, some one may say, is soul alone immortal, but is intellect not immortal? Or is there no absurdity in saying that intellect is not immortal? For it is above the immortal. But if you are willing to say that it is immortal, you must assume another form of self-activity and another form of immortality; and, in a similar manner, in the successive lives, an immortality must be assumed adapted to each: and when some one says that the irrational is immortal and self-moved, we add, but an immortality and selfmotion 'adapted to each.' For there is a great extent of things which exist in eternity; of those which exist in the whole of time; and of those whose duration is only in a part of time. For some beings live for one day, others for a year, others for ten years, and others for a hundred or a thousand years. But how is it possible that the partial nature likewise should not be immortal, since it is self-moved? In answer to this, in the first place it must be observed that the divine Iambi ichos and the philosopher Porphyrios do not admit that the partial nature— [*. e., the life distributed about the body, the peculiarities of which are generation, nutrition, and increase] — is self-moved, but assert that, being the instrument of the soul, it is moved indeed by it, but moves the things which are saved by it. And this they say is the ninth motion. It is evident, however, that, though this partial nature may have a certain selfmobility, yet it has this after the manner of an image, and as an instrument. But if it be requisite to say something in opposition to certain philosophers, nature
is not in all respects superior to bodies, but there is something in it which is inferior to them. For, so far as it is a certain incorporeal essence, and so far as it fashions and adorns bodies, it is superior to them; but so far as it is in them as in subjects, and has its existence in them, it is inferior to them. Just as the resemblance in a mirror, in security, beauty, and accuracy of form, surpasses the mirror, but in hypostasis is inferior to it. For the mirror, indeed, is more essential, but the representation has its subsistence as an image from the mirror, is whatever it is for the sake of it, and on this account will have a more obscure being. Thus, therefore, the partial nature subsists with reference to the body. For the nature which is divine has self-motion secondarily, as we have before observed, and connascent with a divine body. From this syllogism, therefore, it is demonstrated that the soul is not corrupted by itself. In the soul, likewise, one part of it does not alone move, and another part is alone moved, but whatever part of it may be assumed moves and is moved according to the same.
Some one, however, may still desire to learn more clearly what the motion or activity is which subsists in the soul. It is evident, therefore, that it is not any one of the corporeal motions, not even the ninth [which pertains to the partial nature:] for these are not self-motive. But neither do all the peculiar motions of the soul manifest the motion which is now investigated, such as will, opinion, anger, and desire, — for the soul is not always moved according to these, — but we now inquire what that motion is which is always inherent in it. This motion, therefore, is the life which is connascent with the soul, which it imparts to itself, and according to which it is moved. And these motions, indeed, — I mean will, opinion, and the like, — are the lives and motions of the soul; yet they are not always inherent in it, but only
sometimes, be<
renewed. But from
xominof as it we the soul perfecting itself you may especially assume that it is selfmoved, and by this you may separate the rational soul from the irrational, and from nature. For it belongs to the rational soul to perfect and excite itself, and to be converted to itself, no one of which pertains to the others. Hence this exposition is adapted to the divine and human soul, /. e., to every rational soul, and not to the irrational soul and nature. " To stick other things also as are moved, this is the fountain and principle of motion. But principle is unbegottcn" etc.
The second syllogism which shows that the soul is immortal is as follows: The soul is self-moved: that which is self-moved is the principle of motion: the principle of motion is unbegotten: the unbegotten is incorruptible; the incorruptible is immortal: the soul, therefore, is immortal. The propositions here are five. The subordinate proposition, common to both syllogisms, comes after these; but we have already treated it sufficiently. The fourth and fifth Plato has proven, and Aristotle also has demonstrated them satisfactorily in his work, On the Heaven. Of the second and third there will be a thorough discussion by us. The first of the syllogisms, therefore, being examined, shows that the soul is self-sufficient. But the second syllogism demonstrates its extension to other things, just as all divine natures are self-sufficient, and the sources of good to others. For 'the extended' here signifies that which imparts to others what it possesses itself. For it is characteristic of a beneficent and unenvying nature, and of super-plenitude of power. The intention, therefore, of the reasoning is to manifest in respect to the soul the extension of it to other things. And the proposition, indeed, which says "that which is self moved is the principle of motion" is sufficiently demonstrated by Plato in the Laws, where he says that if all things should
stand still self-motive natures would be the first things that would be moved. The order of things, likewise, is as follows: First is the immovable; second is the selfmoved; third is the alter-motive — there being much comprehension in each of these, so that the first and principle of the natures which are moved is the selfmoved. But the principle, says Plato, is unbegotten, — i. e., the principle of motion. For this was the thing proposed. Making, however, the proposition to be more universal, he extends it to every principle; because every principle, so far as it is a principle, is unbegotten.
But here many of the more ancient interpreters are disturbed about the meaning of Plato when he says that "the principle is unbegotten." For, if he asserts this of the principle of all things, viz., of the first God, the assertion is true; but it is not now proposed to speak of this principle. And if he simply speaks of every principle, how is this assertion true? For Peleus is the principle of Achilles, yet Peleus is not unbegotten. We must consider, therefore, that what the principle is of which he is speaking. We say, therefore, that principle, rightly so called, is that which primarily produces the whole form. Thus, for instance, the equal itself is that which produces all-various equals, and man itself is that which everywhere produces men. Thus, therefore, since the soul is the principle of motion, it will be able to produce all the forms and species of motion, so that so far as it is motion it will not be generated. But if, as essence or as intellectual, it is generated from being and intellect; yet, so far as it is motion, it is not generated. For it is the principle of all motions. For if even material forms are unbegotten; such, for instance, as the form of man, the form of horses, of the equal, and of motion, much more must the cause of form be unbegotten: hence, since the form of motion is unbegotten, much more will the cause itself of motion be unbegot-
ten; but this is that which is self-moved. Plato likewise rightly calls it the fountain and principle of motion; for it is the peculiarity of a fountain to impart as it were what belongs to itself spontaneously to things which are different from itself: but it is the peculiarity of a principle to preside as it were and despotically rule over things which subsist through it. For a cause is a principle, as being co-ordinated with the things of which it is the principle, but it is a fountain, as exempt, and subsisting in intellect, both of which are inherent in* the soul. Plato, therefore, would have been liberated from any further discussion by concisely saying that 'the principle of motion is unbegotten,' for generation is motion; but the principle of motion will not be moved by anything else, lest we should proceed to infinity. But he thought fit to give a more ample extent to the theory. The unbegotten nature, therefore, of principle must be understood as follows: The principle is not any one of the things of which it is the principle. Thus, for instance, the sun is the principle of light: it is not, therefore, illuminated by anything else. And Intellect, being the principle of thinking, and being itself intellectual, does not derive from another source intellectual perception. And being, which is the cause of existence to other things, does not possess its subsistence as being from any other source. Hence the soul, which is the cause of other things being animated and possessing life, has not itself a life extrinsically derived; so that, if it is the first motion, it will be the cause of other things being moved, and will not be moved by anything else. Hence every principle is unbegotten. What, then, if some one should say, do not all things derive their existence from the first cause? To this it may be replied, in the first place, that in assuming the principle of a certain thing we ought not to consider any one of the principles above it but to consider the principle itself and those
things after it; and, in the next place, it may be said that principle is, after another manner, a thing of such a kind as its productions; for the equal itself generates other secondary equals, and the motion of the soul generates other forms or species of motion. But the first cause is not, after another manner, such as the things which proceed from it, for it is above principle and above cause. Intellect, therefore, is primarily from itself intellectual, but it is being from something else (i. e., from being itself.) But that which is just primarily derives its subsistence from justice itself, and justice itself does not become just through any thing else; for, so far as it is justice, and so sar as it directs other things, it originates from itself. Nothing, however, prevents it, so far as it is something else (such, for instance, as being, or intellect, or a certain god,) from deriving its subsistence from the principle of all things. But Plato summarily demonstrates that, if principle were generated, it would be generated from that which is not principle, through the hypothesis that it is principle. We say, therefore, that every principle is primarily what it is said to be. Nothing generated is the first, but everything generated is generated from another. No principle, therefore, is generated; for, if everything which is generated is generated from a certain principle, principle also, if it were generated, would be generated from a certain principle, so that principle would be in want of a principle to its generation, and this would be the case to infinity. Again, everything generated is generated from that which is not such as itself is. Thus an animal is generated from that which is not an animal (i. e., from seed,) and a house from that which is not a house; so that principle also, if it were generated, would be generated from that which is not principle. Hence, at one and the same time, as being generated, it would be generated from a principle,
and as a principle it would be generated from that which is not a principle, which is impossible. Everything, therefore, which is primarily a certain thing, /. e., every principle is unbegotten. These things, therefore, are sufficient to the demonstration of the incorruptibility of principles.
But Plato also adds another demonstration, through a deduction to an impossibility. "For the principle" says he, "being destroyed, it could neither itself be generated from another thing, nor another thing be generated from it." For, since everything generated is generated from a principle, nothing else could be generated from it; for the principle, from the hypothesis, is destroyed. But neither could it be generated again, because that which is generated must again be generated from a certain principle. The principle, however, is destroyed. Just as, when a root is cut off, no germination can take place; thus, also, Plato says that, "the principle of generation being destroyed, all heaven and generation falling together must stop, and would never again have anything from whence they could be generated."
The next proposition, which says that the unbegotten is incorruptible, Aristotle also strenuously demonstrates; and this demonstration may be stated concisely as follows: If that which is unbegotten were corrupted, either all things would come to an end, being corrupted, or they would again be restored, i. e., be again generated; and from corruptible natures we should arrive at the unbegotten. And thus that which is generated will be unbegotten. For if that which is unbegotten were corruptible, but the corruptible is generated, the unbegotten is generated, which is impossible. Plato, however, in his demonstration, comprehends both these in one. For if the principle were generated or corrupted, it is necessary that all things shall fall together with it, and thus neither heaven nor generation would exist,
nor even that which is unbegotten. The whole conclusion, therefore, is: an unbegotten principle is incorruptible.
Thus far, therefore, Plato deduces from two syllogisms that the selfmoved is immortal, without making any mention of the soul, except when he pre-announces the conclusion at the beginning; so that he has demonstrated that the selfmoved or self -active is immortal. Now, however, he assumes the first and smallest proposition, that the soul is self-moved, and reminds us of the conclusions which flow from these syllogisms, when he says, "since, then, it appears that the nature which is selfactive is immortal, none will hesitate to assert that self -activity is the essence and definition of the soul. For he says that 'it appears' or is brought to light, i. e. t it becomes plain and evident, according to the Athenian usage of this word (7T£<pa0jLievov). He adds, that the self-active is the essence and definition of the soul, employing Xoyov (principle, reason) as equivalent to opiojxov (definition), asserting that no one giving this definition will be ashamed because he was deceived, since it is a true definition, viewed according to both the thing itself and according to reason: just as, for instance, the definition 'a rational animal, mortal' may be considered as defining the thing contained in man, and, in addition, the nature itself of man, and the form or internal reason of man, and also man as reason enunciated. Wherefore he speaks first directly of himself, saying that he is not ashamed, and referring especially to himself and all species of shame and hesitation — for he will not repent of giving such a definition of the soul — and, secondarily, against others, he remaining irrefutable by them. But he syllogises thus: Every [rational] soul is alone the principle of motion to bodies: that which imparts the principle of motion to bodies is self-moved: the soul, therefore, is self-moved. He reminds us, however, of
this from the last of things, and from what is apparent. For if the animated differs from the inanimated body, in being moved by itself and inwardly, — for that which we see moved by itself we denominate animated, — it is evident that the soul, since it moves itself, and desires to move the animal, will thus much more cause it to be moved. But we must not be disturbed lest we should be forced to admit that those souls of animals are immortal which we are accustomed to call animations alone and entelecheias (or forms), such as the souls of worms and gnats. For either the soul itself is inserted in bodies as the principle of motion, being itself present with them, as in us, or it imparts a certain resemblance of itself.
How, therefore, it may be said, do we see the inanimate body moved by itself to corruption? Does not fire also tend upward of itself, and a clod of earth downward? For either the body which proceeds to corruption is in reality perfectly inanimate, and the soul is not the cause of all motion; or it is animated, and the soul will be the cause of this, which imparts life and existence to other things. To this we reply, that what is called an inanimate body is so called with reference to a partial soul, because it has not a peculiar or individual soul, but is animated by the soul of the universe. For every body, considered as existing in the animated world, is in a certain respect animated; just as the excrements which are in us participate, so far as they are in us, of a certain vital heat, but, when they proceed out of the body, are deprived of this animating warmth. Body, therefore, so far as it is in the world, has a vestige of soul which moves it, and causes it to be that which it is. Through this also fire tends upward, and a clod of earth downward, as being moved by the soul of the universe. For nature, by which they are moved, is a resemblance of soul. But we denominate them inanimate, in conse-
quence of comparing them with a partial soul. It is not proper, however, to wonder if the soul becomes the cause of corruption; for we have before observed that, looking to its own advantage and the good of the universe, it produces motions. In the human species, also, we see that the worthy man destroys his body by famine, when by so doing it is beneficial to him. Thus, therefore, the soul of the universe, when a partial soul leaves the body, analyzes the body, and restores it to the elements whence it was derived. For its further existence in a composite state is no longer advantageous to the universe; just as the nature which is in us compounds some of the juices, but dissolves others, extending itself to what is useful to the whole of our body.
Of the two syllogisms, which we have examined, therefore, each indeed demonstrates both that the soul is neither corrupted from itself, nor by anything external to it; nevertheless, the first in a greater degree demonstrates the former, and the second the latter. Hence Plato assumes the proposition which is -common to both the syllogisms, and which says that 'the soul is selfmoved.' And he does this, not simply for the sake of dialectic argument; but, since self-motion itself is the essence of the soul, this is the cause of the soul not being corrupted, and of other things living by reason of being connected with it. Both the arguments, therefore, are demonstrative. For they are assumed from the definition of the soul, and all the definitions are essential, so far as the soul is what it is; and hence, also, they reciprocate with each other, or are convertible. (Some ignorantly censure the definition as containing neither genus nor difference, holding that 'the self-active' is a definition in name only, [but this criticism refutes itself]). And here it is especially requisite to admire the philosopher for employing in his reasoning that which is most peculiar to and characteristic of the soul,
omitting such particulars as are common to it with other things. For the soul is an incorporeal, self -active essence, gnostic of beings. You may see, therefore, that according to all the rest it communicates with many things, but is especially characterized by self-motion or activity. That also which appears principally to pertain to it, viz., to be gnostic of beings, this no less pertains likewise to sense. For sense is gnostic of things co-ordinate to its nature.
Ji Dissertation On The Platonic Doctrine of Ideas
BY THOMAS TAYLOR.
The Platonic doctrine of Ideas has been in all ages the derision of the vulgar, and the admiration of the wise. Indeed, if we consider that ideas are the most sublime objects of speculation, and that their nature is no less bright in itself than difficult to investigate, this opposition in the conduct of mankind will be natural and necessary; for, from our connection with a material nature, our intellectual eye, previous to the irradiations of Science, is as ill adapted to objects the most splendid of all "as the eyes of bats to the light of day."* And yet, as I presume it will appear from the following discourse, unless the existence of these lucid beings is admitted, there can be no such thing as Science; nor indeed any genuine knowledge at all. Hence, an enquiry concerning their nature and reality is highly proper, as an introduction to the ensuing Commentaries,*!- in which they are considered as the stable pillars of all truth, and the prolific principles of the universe.
But previous to this enquiry it is proper to observe, that Plato was not the inventor, though he was a* strenuous asserter, of ideas; for, in the Sophistes he affirms that ideas were the discovery of men who excelled in wisdom and piety, and who contended for an invisible Essence. Diogenes Laertius, indeed, asserts that Plato received the doctrine of Ideas from Epicharmus. But
See Book 1. Tlie Less. cli. I., Oxford Edit., of Aristotle's Metaphysics.
\i. e , tlie Commentaries of Pruclus on Euclid,
EpicharmoS was not their inventor, because Pythagoras, and others of still higher antiquity, were well acquainted with ideas; so that it may be affirmed, with much greater truth, that Plato was instructed in their nature by Philolaus, his preceptor and the disciple of Pythagoras. For Pythagoras, after his mysterious manner, signified ideas by numbers. But prior to Pythagoras Orpheus was an asserter of ideas, and called Zeus, or the Demiurgos of the world, "the Idea of all thing's." And, according" to Syrian us, the mundane sphere, celebrated by Empedokles, is no other than the Ideal World; so that the doctrine of Ideas is as ancient as that of Wisdom itself. But to begin with our enquiry. In the first place, without universal s there can be no Science; for the (lowing and perishing nature of particulars is perfectly foreign from that stability and duration which are requisite to objects of invariable truth. Neither is it possible that infinite individuals can exist without the subsistence of one cause endued with infinite power; for all multitude must necessarily originate from One, and must resemble its cause in as great a degree of perfection as its nature can admit — by a diffused infinity shadowing forth that infinite power which subsists in indivisible union. Hence, if this be the case, and if infinite men, horses and a multitude of other univocals are produced in an infinite time, a unity of infinite power must be the source of each, according to which they are generated in a terminated manner to infinity in the universe. Again, all animals are transmuted from that which is in capacity {J. <?,, seed) into energy. But if this be true, it is requisite there should be some animal in the universe, subsisting in evervital energy, which may call forth that which is concealed in dormant capacity into perfect actuality. Thirdly, the celestial orbs would not perpetually revolve in the same spaces and after the same manner, unless one and the same universal number, or
idea, ruled in each. So, likewise, there is a natural number in every animal; or those of the same species would not always (when perfect) be distinguished with the same invariable organs; nor would they be subject to puberty and old age at the same time, unless they were detained by the same measure of Nature. Besides, the participation of universals is evident in every sensible object. Thus, the rational nature is united with every individual man. Thus, animality subsists in a lion and a horse, in a man and a dog. And thus the pentad, or number five, is participated in the five fingers, and the duad in the nostrils, eyes, hands and feet. But since these do not subsist without a cause, but are perfected by certain determined natures, it is necessary there should be an universal animal in the whole of Nature, separate from sensibles, by means of which this sensible animal is generated. And that there should subsist in nature a pentad, through which the hands are always adorned with that number of extremities; and a duad, from which the two eyes and nostrils are derived. But if Nature does not possess these numbers from herself, as she is not the first cause of all, but derives them from another cause in the same manner as Matter from Nature, it is necessary there should be universals and numbers prior to Nature, subsisting in far greater purity and perfection.
2. Again, we may demonstrate the existence of ideas as follows: If the Deity, in fabricating the universe, operated essentially — and there is no other way in which we can conceive him to operate — he must fabricate the universe an image of himself. But if this be the case he contains in himself, in the manner of an exemplar, the causes of the universe; and these causes are no other than ideas. Besides, this consideration is not to be omitted, that the perfect must necessarily antecede and preside over the imperfect; unity over multitude; the im-
the impartible over the partible; and that which is perpetually the same over that which admits of variation and change. From whence it may be inferred that things do not originate from baser natures, but that their gradual processions end in these; and that they begin from the most perfect, best, and most beautiful natures. But let us pursue this reasoning more minutely, as it affords the strongest arguments for the existence of ideas.
When the Deity fabricated the various species of animals, and bestowed on them the different senses, it was doubtless with a view to the benefit of their possessors; as he foresaw that without these the animal could neither provide for its own support, nor defend itself from surrounding dangers. But may we not enquire from whence this previous perception originated? For it is not to be supposed that he first made animals destitute of senses, and then, being admonished by their sudden destruction, afterward assigned them to their nature. Shall we say this foreknowledge was the result of a reasoning process? But then, we again ask, what were the principles of this ratiocination? For if they originated from other reasonings it is necessary, at length, to arrive at something prior to these discursive operations on which they ultimately depend; since all reasoning must be founded on indemonstrable principles. Was sense, then, or intellect, the principle of this previous perception? But sense, in the present instance, had not then a being, for it could not exist prior to the animal nature: it was, therefore, intellect. But if intellect be the repository of certain propositions, and the conclusion be science, it must follow that there could not then be a consultation of anything sensible. For the principle and the conclusion must both depend on something intelligible. Besides, may we not ask how such a habit of thought arose before the existence of a sensible nature? It is absurd in the extreme to say from chance;
and to resolve it into a sudden volition of the Deity is an explanation that may indeed satisfy vulgar minds, but can by no means quiet the restless spirit of philosophical investigation; since, to suppose the cause of the universe actuated by sudden volitions, is to place him on a level with the vilest natures, and subject him to the irrational impulses of the brute. Hence we infer that the formation of animals, and by the same arguments of the world, was not the result of any reasoning process. For, indeed, argument and foreknowledge cannot with propriety be attributed to the Deity; but when they are ascribed to him, we must consider it as nothing more than an indication of his constituting particulars in a manner somewhat similar to the providence of a wise man in inferior concerns. For, in subordinate natures, whose operations cannot take effect prior to enquiry, reason is necessary, on account of the inferiority of that power which precedes the reasoning energy. In like manner foreknowledge is necessary, because a power is wanting to its possessor, which might render him superior to its use. For foreknowledge is directed to this end, that one particular circumstance may take place in preference to another. But if it be requisite that every energy in the Deity should be void of defect, and if it is not lawful that anything should be present with him which is not total and universal, it is necessary that all things should be contained in everything essential to the nature of the Deity. Hence, since even futurity is with him present, there is nothing in him posterior; but what is present in him becomes posterior by its participation in another. If then futurity be present with the Deity, it is necessary it should be so present as if foreknown in a posterior nature, i. e., in such a manner that nothing may be wanting to any being; and, that is, lastly, so that everything may be complete.
Besides, reasoning cannot by any means belong to
an eternal essence like the Deity; for, if this be admitted, he must be forgetful of his former operations. And if, in consequence of reasoning, he produces more perfect natures afterwards, his works could not be perfectly beautiful before; but if they were beautiful before, they must be co-existent with their cause, i. e, % they must be eternally beautiful, antecedent to the reasoning energy. Again, if we suppose the Supreme Intellect, the Demiurgos of the world, to operate by enquiry, his energy could not be spontaneous, and truly his own; but his essence would be similar to that of the artificer, who does not derive his productions from himself, but procures them as something adventitious, by learning and enquiry. But if the universe was not formed by deliberation, it must be co-existent with its cause, and reside In his essence; for if it be not co-existent there must have been some particular time in which its Artificer determined on its production; and this determination must have been the result of a reasoning process concluding that it would not be good to produce it before that particular time — from whence, by the way, we infer the eternity of the world. And if the universe be co-existent with its Author, it must perpetually emanate from his nature, and be dependent on it, like the shadow on its forming substance. But in this case its archetype must be contained in the essence of its author: for every cause is that primarily which its effect is secondarily. And hence we infer, that if the sensible universe be replete with forms of every kind, the exemplars of those forms must subsist in immaterial perfection in the Artificer of the world.
If this sensible world then be formed according bo the exemplar of that which is intelligible, may we not say, with the great Plotinus, that it is requisite the universal animal should there primarily subsist in perfect vital energy, containing all things in its omniform es-
sence? "Hence the heavens are there a divine animal, replete with ideal stars. Earth too does not there subsist solitary, but is much more vital than this corporeal earth, for it is full of intellectual life. The sea is also there, and all water subsisting in life, and an ever-abiding stream. For how is it possible that anything not vital can be the progeny of life itself? He, therefore, who enquires from whence animals originate in the intelligible world, might as well enquire from whence all life, and soul, and universal intellect, arose. For here there is nothing indigent or defective, but everything is perfect and exuberant. Here they all flow from one fountain, not as from a certain spirit, or heat, but as if from an universal quality, possessing and preserving in itself all qualities, such as sweetness, accompanied with fragrance of smell, the vigor of wine, and the strength of all juices, bright colors, and whatever is perceived by the taste."
3. Such, then, are the arguments which the Platonic philosophy affords in defence of ideas — the existence of which was so evident to Plato that, in the Sophistes, he compares those who oppose the friends of ideas to the Giants of old, warring as it were on celestial souls, and such as are engaged in sublime investigations. Let us now consider to what universals these lucid beings are confined; since, according to the Pythagoreans and Platonists, there are not ideas of all universal conceptions. "For in the first place," says Syrianus, "there are no ideas of things evil and base, because these subsist in Nature rather by a privation and absence of ideas: and on this account they are said to exist contrary to nature. Nor, secondly, of negations, for these are destructive of the bound and limitation which are attributed to every thing from the unifying and comprehending nature of ideas; and hence sepa-
♦Ennead VI., lib. vn., «ap 12.
ration is rather the result of material infinity than of that which is formal or ideal. Nor, again, are there any ideas of things which at different times receive a variety of conditions; for these participate of transmutation from a movable cause, but not from the immovable and stable illustration of ideas. Moreover, there are no ideas of parts, such as the hand, head, fingers, and the like, for the causes of things existing entire produce whole species and forms, and are not divided about the parts of these, like the reasons of nature.
But neither did these wise men place in Intellect the determinate causes of accidents in bodies, such as sweetness and whiteness; for they considered that natural reasons were sufficient for the production of accidents. Nor, again, of composites, as of a wise man. For, since ideas are simple, they preside over the simple essence of everything. But the composition and division of things is the business of our intellect; ideas at the same time, and that intellection which is co-ordinate to ideas, being exempt from all these, on account of transcendent simplicity. Neither, therefore, must we establish ideas of things generated from dissimilars, such as mules; nor of fruit produced by engrafting from different trees — for all these have a posterior and adventitious generation, and are not the work of Nature alone, nor of Nature proceeding according to her own reasons, but as it were compelled to labor contrary to her own determinations. Hence it is manifest that all art, which imitates nature, and alone ministers to the use of the mortal life, is separated from the ideal cause. But neither are the works which, depending on the purpose of the soul, are perfected by a concourse of many causes, and which we are accustomed to call the operations of fortune, to be conjoined with an ideal cause. For things which are there perfected are eternal, and subsist perpetually the same, free from the nature of contingent events. It
remains, therefore, that the ideas must be confined to universal and perfect essences, and to whatever confers to their natural subsistence; as, for instance, to man, and everything pefective of man, such as wisdom and virtue: for, as ideas are the generative and energetic causes of the perfection of everything, they distribute being and perfection to essences, and convert them to the inexhaustible plentitude of their own omniform natures."
4- But let us now consider the nature of numbers; for as every form is a number, according to the Pythagoreans, f a speculation of this kind must afford no small light to the arduous investigation of ideas. Will it not, therefore, be proper in the first place, to enquire with the great Plotinus \ whether multitude is not a departure and distance from one, so that infinity itself is a separation from unity En the extreme, because it is no other than innumerable multitude; that on this account it becomes evil; and that we contract a similar nature when, departing from intellectual unity, we are divided by sensible multitude? For a being then properly becomes many when, no longer able to remain collected in itself, the same, it is diffused abroad, and thus, being dispersed, is variously extended; so that when, by diffusion, it is absolutely deprived of unity, it becomes perfect multitude, destitute of that universal cement which unites one part with another. But whenever the con-
ln his invaluable Commentary on the 2d, 8rd, 13th, ami I3lh books of the Metaphysics of Aristotle: p. 60, Lai. trans, j. |j. 898, eel. Usener; p. 107, ed Kioll, Tliis Commentary, which is indispensable for the trim interpretation of Aristotle, was only published in the Latin translation of HU-i'ttny tnus Bagolinus, Venet., 1558, at the time Tuylor wrote. The Greek text has been edited by Usener, Berol., 1870; and by Kroll, Bi'i-ol, 1902. Unfortunately there is no English version of this work, but Taylor, in the notes to his translation of Aristotle's Melaphysh-s, quotes copiously from it.
fEnnead, VI., lib. vi.
tSee Proctal on Plato's* Theology, p. 336, ed. Aemilins Porlns, Hamburg., 1*18, fol.
ciliating one is present, then that which was scattered and diffused, becoming permanent by its bounding power, passes into magnitude. But if any one should deny the subsistence of unity, asserting that one is nowhere to be found, which is not some particular one — - and should hence affirm that what is called one abstractedly is only a certain affection of the soul toward any being — we ask: what prohibits the appellation of essence from being nothing more than an affection of the soul, and consequently the existence of being a delusion? For we predicate unity of particulars with as great propriety as being. I am well aware that philosophers of the present day will answer that we have an evident proof of the reality of being from its agitating the soul, and becoming apparent in the phantasy; to which we reply that in like manner the soul is agitated and the imagination influenced about the one. For every individual as much excites the perception of one as of being. Besides, it is necessary to enquire whether we behold this passion and conception of the soul as one or multitude. And, again, when we say not one, we do not then possess one from the thing itself; for we say that one is not contained in that individual. And hence we must possess one in our own nature, and this must reside in the soul, separate from that which is denominated some particular one. But here it may be objected, that the one we possess is received from externals, and is nothing more than a conception of the mind, produced by the thing itself. For, it will be said, that as multitude is nothing besides a number of individuals which are called many, so one is nothing besides one thing; and is formed by thought separating that one particular from others. To this we reply as follows: How can it be consonant to reason to suppose that the conception of one arises from the sensation of some one particular subject? For one particular man, who is discerned by
if this were the case, thought could never predicate one of that which is not a man. Besides, as cogitation, on beholding the different positions of things, affirms that this is here or there, so when it perceives an individual it pronounces one; for that faculty is not vain, nor does it assert one of a nonentity. Nor must we think it predicates one, because this individual is different from another; for when cogitation affirms such a thing is this, and not another, it declares in the meantime that the other is one. Likewise when it affirms that anything is this aioni\ it then declares that what is alone is one: wherefore it predicates one, prior to alone. Besides, if there be multitude, it is necessary that one should antecede; since when it predicates many it pronounces more than one. And when it affirms that an army contains a multitude of men, it conceives the soldiers reduced to one order. For thought, indeed, does not permit multitude to remain perfect multitude, destitute of the conciliating power of unity, in which very circumstance the subsistence of one is evinced; for acutely and swiftly perceiving the one which results from order, it reduces the nature of the many into one. Moreover, we affirm that a house and an army are each one, but that a house is more one than an army, on account of the continuity of its parts. If, therefore, one is contained more in that which is continued than in that which is discrete, and still more in what is perfectly indivisible, it is evident that the one is a certain nature, and has a real being. For it is impossible that the more and the less should take place among things which have no subsistence. If then it be not possible to understand anything without one or two, or some other number, it is by no means proper to deny existence to that without which we cannot comprehend the existence or properties of any being, but it is requsite that nature should
antecede all discourse and intelligence, which is everywhere necessary to their existence.
Again, if unity has no real subsistence, and is nothing more than a name or conception of the mind, it may be destroyed without the destruction of its subject. The unity, therefore, of a house may be taken away, without [causing] the ruin of a house; but if a house is nothing more than certain materials, reduced into one form, this is impossible. And, on the contrary, the alteration of that subject, of which unity is predicated, can make no real alteration in unity (on this hypothesis) any more than the death of a man can affect his name. When, therefore, a body, of which one was predicated, is divided into a multitude of parts, there is no real alteration made in the unity of the body, because unity is nothing more than a name.
It was in consequence of this reasoning, and perceiving that unity was participated by every being, that the Pythagoreans placed a superessential One at the top of the universe, intelligibly abstracted from all beings in simplicity and excellence of nature. For they considered that, unless there was a selfrsubsisting One in all things, there could neither be universals nor particulars. Not the first, because they are by nature one and many: but it is requisite that the one itself should preside over that which is not one alone. Nor, again, the second, because they are many and one, — i. e. H they participate more of multitude than unity, and their nature is determined more by the many than the one. And because of things in participation, unless an unparticipated one is added, there can be no cause of union to beings; in the same manner as the cause of essence to beings is taken away by those who deny that being itself is the principle of all essence. For as the good itself is the one principle of good to the universe, and is nothing besides good; and as a selfmotive nature, which is
nothing besides self-motion, is the cause of motion to all things, — so all things proceed from Being itself, and all united natures receive their union from the One, abstracted from all things.
Hence, such is the absolute dominion of unity, that continued quantities would have no existence without its participation ; for when they are divided, so far as they lose unity they change their being into some other form. Hence the bodies of plants or animals, which are each of them one, when they fly from unity, and are dissipated into multitude, immediately lose the essence they formerly possessed, and become something else; which new state of being they likewise possess so far as they are one. Add, too, that health then flourishes in the corporeal frame when the body is conciliated into one; then beauty flourishes when the power of one connects the members into proportion and consent; and then virtue reigns in the soul, when the soul is reduced into one similitude with that which is divine.
5. But let us now investigate the nature of numbers. All number, according to the Pythagoreans, originates from unity and the indefinite duad; the first having the relation of Form, and the second that of Matter, to all the orders of numbers. But they likewise divided number into two kinds, essential and monadic. The essential number they considered as first subsisting in the Intelligible World, together with Being, and from thence distributed into all the various gradations of forms. But the monadic, or that which is composed from certain units, they justly considered as nothing more than the image of essential number. And with respect to the numbers which the human soul participates, these from its imperfect condition have a middle subsistence, i. e., they exist in a vital, gnostic, and speculative, but not in an operative manner. Hence, when receiving one thing with another, we affirm that they are two, as a dog and
a man, or two men; or when we compute more than two, as ten, and say that there is a decad of men, this number is not essential to the two or ten individuals, nor is it to be conceived as subsisting in sensible natures, but it is purely quantity. But when we distribute this ten into units we produce the principle of quantity, and generate a subject in opinion,* capable of participating the essential decad of our soul.
But when, considering man in himself, we affirm that he is a certain number, as the duad, composed of animal and rational, we do not observe one mode in this predication; but so far as by a discursive operation of the soul we numerate, we effect a particular quantum; but so far as the subjects are two, and at the same time both one— since one fills the essence of both, and in both unity is contained — we pronounce another, and an essential number. And this duad is not of a posterior origin, nor alone signifies a certain quantity, external to the subject, but a duad subsisting in the essence of man, and containing his nature. For here we do not produce a number by a discursive operation, while we pursue essential natures. But when we number any ten things, which are not connected by any conciliating unity, like
ln giving monadic number a subsistence in opinion, I have fol lowed the distribution of Proctitis, and I think not without sufficient reason. For since monadic numbers are more immaterial than geometrical lines and figures, they must have a more immaterial subsistence. But as they are correspondent to Matter, they cannot reside in the essential reasons of the soul-, nor can they subsist in the phantasy, because they are superior to geometrical figures. It remains, therefore, that we must place them between cogitation or thought and the phantasy; and this middle situation is that of opinion. For cogitation, which is defined in the Sophlstes to be an inward discourse without voice, is an energy of the rational soul, extending itself from propositions to conclusions. And, according to Plato in the same place, opinion is the silent affirmation or negation of thought (Siavoia). Hence, says he, "opinion is the conclusion of cogitation; but imagination, the mutual mixture of sense and opinion." So that opinion may with great propriety be said to contain monadic number, to which it bears the proportion of Matter. And hence the reason is obvious, why the Pythagoreans called the duad opinion.
a choir or army— then this duad, which we predicate of the ten particulars, subsists alone in our numerating soul, which renders the ten individuals in opinion a definite quantum. But in a choir or army, essential number is participated, exclusive of that which subsists in our soul. And if it be enquired how number subsists in the human soul, vve must say that the soul, by her self-moving energies, procreates number while she numerates, and by this energy causes the existence of quantity; in the same manner as in walking we produce a certain motion. Thus, monadic number, or a collection of units of various kinds, subsists in opinion, in a manner corresponding to that of geometrical figures; and by this means participates the essential number of the soul. For as a triangular figure in the phantasy is the recipient of a triangular nature, or of triangle itself, — so every three units in opinion receive the essential triad of the soul, and by this means form a definite quantum. In short, as in every being we may discern the resemblances of matter and form, so in the pentad, or any other number, the five units — which are the subject of participation, and the quantity of the number — originate from the duad; but the form, that is the pentad itself, from unity. For every form is an unity, which unites its subject quantity, and connects it with its ideal species. It is, therefore, requisite to understand that the two principles of mathematical numbers are resident in our souls, with which every mathematical number is coexis tent; I mean unity, comprehending in itself all the forms of numbers, and which corresponds to unity in intellectual natures; and the duad, endowed with a generative power, of a formless nature, and of infinite virtue, and which is called boundless, on account of its being the image of never-failing and intelligible duality. Hence, the unity of the soul, with a never ceasing energy, continually distinguishes and forms all the orderly
processions of her numbers, suffers no vacuum to inter* vene, and leaves no quantity formless and innumerable. Hence, too, no essential number of the soul, as for instance the pentad, is composed from substance and accident, as a white man; nor from genus and difference, as man from animal and biped; nor, again, from five units mutually touching each other, like a bundle of wood; nor from things mixed, like water and wine; nor from things subsisting by position, in the manner that stones compose a house; nor, lastly, does it subsist like tilings numerable — for it is not because they are composed from indivisible units that they possess anything besides units. For many points are indivisible, yet quantity is not produced on this account, but because they participate of two natures — the one corresponding to matter, and the other to form. Lastly, it is not proper to say that the number seven — and so of any other number — is composed from the triad and the tetrad; for units indeed composed with units form a subject adapted to the reception of the heptad, or the ideal and essential number seven; but the definite numerical quantity seven is formed from so many units, and the ideal heptad. Hence, as the soul of a shipwright gives form to the timber from her inherent art; so the numerative soul, from the unity endowed with the relation of a principle which she possesses, gives form and subsistence to all her inherent numbers. But there is this difference between the two, that the shipwright's art is not essential to our nature, and requires manual operation, because it is conversant with sensible matter; but the numerative art is essentially inherent in the soul, and is therefore present with all men, and possesses an intellectual matter, which it easily forms without the assistance of time. And this, perhaps, is what deceives many who think that the heptad is nothing more than seven units. For the imagination of the vulgar, unless it first perceives a thing
destitute of ornament, and afterwards the operations of the adorning artificer supervening; its nature, — and, lastly, beholds the thing perfect and invested with form, cannot be persuaded that it possesses two natures, the one formless, but the other endowed with an energetic and forming power,
And here it is necessary to observe that, though unity is the form of all arithmetical forms, yet it is chiefly the form of the decad. For what unity is simply to all the series of numbers, that the decad is to the following hundreds, thousands, and millions; from whence, according to a secondary progression, it is denominated unity. As intellect, therefore, is the form of all things, but especially of the soul, — so unity is the idea of all numbers, and especially of the decad. But the reason why the Pythagoreans extended ideal numbers no further than ten, is because this number is the ultimate perfection of beings, containing all things in its omniform nature. For all proportion subsists within the number ten; the arithmetical in a natural progression of numbers from unity; the geometrical in the numbers I,
2, 4, and i, 3, 9; and the harmonical in the numbers 2,
3, 6, and 3, 4, 6. And since the causes of all things are contained in numbers, as far as to the decad,* it is superfluous to suppose exemplars of the following numbers.
If it should be asked in what manner we must conceive number as subsisting in the intelligible world, we answer, with the great Plotinus, that we must conceive it as subsisting in being itself, with a power of impelling it to the production of multitude. "Hence number is either the essence or the energy of being, and animal itself, and intellect is number. But perhaps we must
•According lo the Pylhagnreans, ll Lhe immortal Gods and earthborn men call the venerable decad immutable and unwearied."— Syrian. in Met. Arist. p. 100, ed. Kroll.
call being number united, but beings number evolved or unfolded; intellect, number moving in itself; and, lastly, animal, number comprehending."* It was in consequence of this reasoning that the Pythagoreans called ideas numbers; because the gradual evolution of these from ineffable unity produced all the beautiful variety of forms. Their exalted conception of numbers, likewise, originated from the same sublime theory. Hence Pythagoras, in the Sacred Discourse, calls number "the ruler of forms and ideas." But Philolaus "the commanding and self begotten container of the eternal duration of mundane concerns;" and Hippasus, and all those who were called axovo fxanxoi, i. e. t those that were yet under the probation of the quinquennial silence, "the first exemplar of the mundane fabric, and the judiciary instrument of its artificer."f
6. And here I cannot but take notice, with regret, of the very unphilosophical mistake committed by that great mathematician, Dr. Barrow. J I say, with regret, on account of the extraordinary obligations I am under to his writings for my proficiency, whatever it may be, in mathematical learning. But respect must yield to the truth. "Unity," says he, "is not indivisible. (For how ex gr. can ■ added to * be equal to unity, if unity be indivisible and incomposed, and represent a point) but rather only unity is properly divisible, and numbers arise from the division of unity." Here the Doctor evidently confounds sensible units, which are the subjects of vulgar practical arithmetic, with those units which are the objects of science. Every individual sensible object is indeed an unit, so far as it participates the connecting and conciliating power of an immaterial one, but
Enn. VI. lib. vi. Cap. 9.
fSyrian. in Met. Aristot. p. 123, Ed. Kroll.
Jin his Mathematical Lectures, page 48.
Euclid's definition: "Unity is that accordingto which each of the things which are, is called one." But if unity be a composite the definition is false; since a composite, or a certain multitude, can never be the cause of unity, but the contrary. And that this immaterial one subsists in sensible natures has, I hope, been sufficiently proved in the preceding part of this discourse. But the Platonic Theo of Smyrna fully establishes the indivisibility of unity, as follows: "Unity is terminating quantity, the principle and element of numbers, which remains undiminished by the most immense multitude of subtractions, and being deprived of all number continues firm and fixed, because it is impossible for division to proceed beyond the bound of unity. Thus, if we separate any one corporeal substance into parts, the one again becomes many; and by subtracting the several parts, we end in one part; and from this remaining part, again divided, arises multitude; and by taking away every part we again arrive at one. So that one, considered as one, is incapable of diminution, and perfectly indivisible. On the contrary, every number is diminished by division, and is separated into parts less than itself; as the number 6 into 3 and 3, or into 4 and 2, or into 5 and 1. But unity in sensible particulars, if divided, is diminished after the manner of body, and by section is distributed into parts less than itself; but it receives increase after the manner of number, for instead of the one multitude is produced. In this sense, therefore, is unity indivisible; for nothing is divided into parts greater than itself. But that which is cut into parts greater than the whole, and into parts equal to the whole, is divided as number. Thus, for instance, if any one sensible body is divided into six parts, 1, 1, 1, r, 1, 1, these will be equal to the
whole; but by a section into 4 and 2, it is divided into parts greater than the whole, considered as one; for 4 and 2, considered as numbers, exceed unity, and the body was supposed to be one. Unity, therefore, as number is perfectly indivisible. But unity is called /ioraS t only or alone, either because it remains immovable, and does not desert itself, nor surpass the bounds of its nature — for it remains the same, however multiplied into itself, through an infinite progression — or, because it is placed separate and apart from the multitude of other numbers, it is denominated the monad or one!'* In consequence of this very mistaken hypothesis, which opposes not only all the wisdom of antiquity, but the sublimest truths, — the Doctor asserts that an arithmetical cipher is the principle of numbers, and that it is analogous to a point in geometry. Just as if a cipher, which is nothing more than a mark expressive by its position with numbers of a certain quantity, had a real existence, and was productive of number; when, at the same time, any other arbitrary character would serve the same purposes, if applied in a similar manner. It must surely afflict every thinking mind to see how dreadfully the mechanical system of philosophy, which has been so long in fashion, enslaves and perverts the minds of its votaries; for there cannot, I think, be a more egregious instance of its fatal tendency than the present, in which nothing is considered as the founda- * tion of that noble science, Arithmetic- — which was deservedly placed by the ancients in the first rank of the mathematical disciplines. Such a foundation, indeed, may be proper to the mechanical philosophy % but is very ill adapted to support the solid fabric of the arithmetical science. But let us attend to the arguments of this most learned man, in defense of so strange an assertion :
lii Avith. p. 88, E.!. Bulliaklu?, Paris, 1044: p. 18, Ed. Killer, Lips.,
"A cipher, or arithmetical nothing, is really the bound of every number coming between it and the numbers next following, but not as a part. A cipher being added to, or taken from a number, does neither increase nor diminish it; from it is taken the beginning of computation, while itself is not computed; and it bears a manifest relation to the principal properties of a geometrical point." But ill what manner are we to conceive the nothing which intervenes between any two numbers to be their term or boundary? For Euclid defines a term to be the extremity of anything; implying by the extremity something belonging to that of which it is the bound. But how can a cipher, or nothings in any respect belong to number, or something? For if nothing be a boundary, merely from its intervention, a point existing between any two disjoined lines, though at the greatest distance from each, must be their common boundary, which is evidently absurd. Besides, what relation does it bear to a point, which is endowed with a generative power, by its flux forming the simple extension of a line, and at the same time everywhere limiting its progression, and subsisting in infinite capacity in its every part? Where are the real and divine properties to be found in an arithmetical nothing which Proclus, in the following Commentaries, exhibits in a point? And how can computation originate from a mere nonentity? But a little consideration will cenvince us that this Saracen, or Indian cipher, is nothing more than an arbitrary character, invented for the purpose of facilitating computation. For, suppose the letter a to be placed in its stead, and to signify, when connected with the mark for unity, ten, or ten multiplied by one; when connected with the mark for tw T o, ten multiplied by two, and so on. And, again, when placed twice after unity, let it express the second power of ten, or one hundred, in this manner, aa; when thrice connected one thousand, or the
third power of ten, and so on. Shall we say in consequence of this that a is the bound of numbers, and the principle of arithmetic? Or, shall we. not rather say, that it is an arbitrary symbol, like any other algebraic character, having no real connection with numbers, and depending - for its existence and application entirely on the will of its inventor? But this opinion is too absurd to need any further refutation.
f, It may here, perhaps, be expected that I should explain how, in the language of Syrianus,* "divine number proceeds from the immortal retreats of unity, till it arrives at the divine tetrad ;"f and that I should unfold the properties of the tetractys, according to the Pythagoreans, but an undertaking of this kind would not only far exceed the limits of this Dissertation, but perhaps in the present age might be justly deemed by the lovers of wisdom a prostitution and profanation of the most exalted truths. Enough, I hope, lias been said to excite the curiosity and rouse the attention of the thinking and liberal part of mankind; and those who understand what is here briefly delivered, may apply themselves with advantage to Prod us on Plato's Theology, where they will find all the mysteries of numbers unravelled; and to the works of the great Plotinus, who will lead them into the penetralia of the most recondite wisdom. But, in pursuing the works of these great men, the reader must not expect to find the sublimest truths explained in a familiar manner, and adapted, like many modern publications, to the meanest capacities. For this, indeed, is impossible to be effected. "Mankind," says Petvin, "are not to be made any more truly knowing than happy by another's understanding. There is no man
In Met- Ai-istcit p. lOfi, Ed. Kroll.
fFor tlu' let rail nniilsiins all numbers within its nature, in the manner of :m exemplar; am! hence it is Unit, in monadic numbers, 1, 2, 3, 4, Hfe equal to ten.
once conve; another man's understanding. It must come into the mind from its own motions, within itself; and the grand art of Philosophy is to set ike mind a going; and, even when we think nothing of it, to assist it in its labour."* After which he observes that "the ancients never attempt to lead us into knowledge, by a continued chain of reasoning: on the contrary, they write in such a manner as to force us to think for ourselves ." And, previous to this, he remarks that "there are certain truths, acquired by a long exercise of reason, both in particular, and likewise in those subjects that are most general, as much perhaps out of the reach of the greatest mathematician, as Sir Isaac Newton's speculations are above the capacity of some that are called mathematicians." The truth of this observation is sufficiently evinced, in Plato's definition of a philosopher in the Sophistes: "The philosopher is the man who clearly sees one idea every way extended through many, every one of them lying apart; and many ideas different from one another externally comprehended under one, And, further, one idea, throughout all manys, wrapt up in one; and many ideas every way separate or discrete. This is to have the knowledge to discern how ideas, as they are general, agree and disagree." Now, he who thinks that a perception of this kind may be acquired by barely reading an accurate discourse on the nature of Ideas, composed in intelligible terms, without at the same time employing a long course of profound meditation, and patient thought, knows' but little the difficulty of the task, and until he changes his opinion will never be the wiser. But the folly and presumption of men with respect to this sublime philosophy is really unpardonable; for there
♦Remarks on hellers cmiuenung Mnul, by Bav Julm Pelviti, l.uiidon, 1758, )i. 83. "An excellent work, full of profound and abatruN
learning."
are very few who conceive that much previous instruction is requisite to its acquisition; but almost every man decides peremptorily on the most abstract speculations, and reckons himself sufficient for the most profound investigations. In the sciences and arts they are willing to proceed to perfection by gradual advances; but they consider Philosophy as easy, of instant access, and hastily approach to her embraces with an assured confidence of success. Though, like unhappy Ixion, through their presumption, instead of a goddess they grasp nothing but an empty cloud, Plato was so sensible of this truth that, in his seventh epistle to Dion, he expressly affirms that he neither has written, nor ever will write explicitly, concerning these sublime speculations: "For a thing of this kind cannot be expressed by words, like other disciplines, but by a long familiarity and a life in conjunction with the thing itself, a light* as it were leaping from a fire will on a sudden be enkindled in the soul, and there itself nourish itself." He adds, that a publication of such concerns is "alone useful to a few of mankind who, from some small vestiges previously demonstrated, are themselves able to discover
This light is no other than that of Ideas themselves; which, when it is once enkindled, or rather re-kindled in the soul, becomes the general standard and criterion of truth, He who possesses this is nu longer the slave of opinion, puzzled with doubts, and lost in the uncertainties of conjecture. Here the fountain o£ evidence is alone to be found, — This is the true light, whose splendors can alone dispel the darkness of ignorance, and procure for the soul uiKlec:iyiug good and substantial felieily. Of this I am certain from inj own experience; and happy is he who acquires this invaluable treasure. But let the reader tie ware of mixing the extravagancies of modern enthusiasm with this exalted illumination. For tins light is alone brought into l he mind by science, PCP tient re/lection and unwearied meditation: it is not produced by any violent agitalion of spirits, or ecstasy of imagination, for it is far superior to Hie energies of these, — but it is tranquil and steady, intellectual and divine. Avicennn, the Arabian, was well acquainted with this light, as is evident from the beautiful description he gives of it, in the elegant Intro* durlimi of Ebn Tophail lo the Life i>f Hui Ebn Ynkdhan: "When a man's desires arc considerably elevated, and be is competently well exercised in these 8 peculations, there will appear to him some small glimmering'
means
hope that they should now learn certain excellent things,
. There are three things belonging to each of those
particulars through which science is necessarily produced. But the fourth is science itself. And it is requisite to establish as the fifth that which is known and true. One of these is the name of a thing; the second its definition; the third, the resemblance; the fourth, science. Now take each of these, desiring to learn what we have lately asserted, and think as follows concerning them all: A circle is called something, whose name we have just expressed. After this follows its definition, composed of nouns and verbs. For that which everywhere is equally distant from the extremes to the middle, is the definition of that which we signify by the name of a round, and a circumference, and a circle. But the third is the circle which may be painted or blotted out, which may be made by a wheel, or destroyed; by none of which accidents is the circle itself, of which all these properties are predicated, affected, as being of a different nature. But the fourth is science and intellect, and true opinion about these. And the whole of this again must be established as one thine: which neither subsists
of the truth— as it were flashes of lighlutug, very delightful, which just shine upon him, and then become extinct. Then the more lie exercises himself the oftener he will perceive them, till at last lie will become so well acquainted with them that they will occur to him spontaneously, without any exercise at till; and then as soon as he perceives anything he applies himself to the divine essence, so as to retain some impression of it; then something occurs to him on a sudden whereby he liegins to discern the truth in everything; till through frequent exercise he at last attains to a perfect tranquility, and that which used to appear to him only by fits and starts, becomes habitual, and that which was only a glimmering before, a constant light; and he obtains a constant mid steady knowledge." He who desires to know more concerning this, :iml a still brighter light. — that arising from a union with the Supreme — may consult, the 8th book of Plotlnus' 5th Ennead, and the 7th and Oth of the 0th Ennead, and his boob, On the Beautiful.
in voice, nor in corporeal figures, but is inherent in soul.* It is, therefore, manifest that this fourth is different from the nature itselff of the circle, and again different from the three we have previously mentioned. But among the number of these intellect, by its relation and similitude, proximately adheres to the fifth, while the rest are more remote from its nature. The same may likewise be affirmed of a straight and crooked figure, of color, and of the Good, the Beautiful, and the Just. And, again, of every body, whether fashioned by the hand or the work of Nature, whether fire or water, and the rest of this kind; likewise of every animal, and the habits of souls; and of all actions and passions. For unless among these some one after a manner receives the fourth, he will never perfectly participate the science about the fifth." He then proceeds to show in what respect each of the preceding four is different from the fifth: "every circle, which by the hands of men is either painted or fashioned by a wheel, is plainly contrary to our fifth — for it everywhere participates of the right line. But we must affirm that the circle itself has neither more nor less of anything whatever; that is, it possesses in itself nothing of a contrary nature. Besides, none of these is endued with any stability of name — for nothing hinders our applying the appellation of straight to that which we now denominate round, and calling the straight by the denomination of the round; nor will there be any less stability in these, when their names are changed into the contrary. The same reasoning is likewise true of definition, since it is composed of nouns and verbs, which possess no stability. And in a variety of ways it may be proved that no one of these four is certain and
Viz., in Ihe ilia noetic part of the soul — for the forms or essential reasons subsisting in this part, are the objects of science.
f For the circle itself is an intellectual form, ancJ is not to he apprehended hy the discursive energies of theiliatioetio part, but by the simple projections of intellect.
firm." Now, this fifth division of Plato's entirely respects ideas, considered as flourishing in intellect, by a conjunction with which we acquire true intelligenee,and the perfection of human knowledge. The first three of the preceding are obnoxious to various mutations, the fourth less, but the last is perfectly stable and invariable. The three first are rather conversant about the qualities of things, about the image and shadow; the fourth raises us to the participation of Truth, but the fifth to Truth itself, and Permanent Essence. In the first degrees almost all are conversant; in the fourth a few; in the fifth all the Gods, but a very small part of mankind, as it is asserted in the Timaeus. The four first may be known, indeed, without the fifth, confusedly; but from the knowledge of the fifth they become perfectly manifest, as effects from the knowledge of their cause. But we cannot, by any means, attain to the apprehension of the fifth, unless we have been first accurately conversant with the rest; for from our imperfect condition we are compelled to rise from difference to identity, from multitude to unity, and from shadow to substance. While we investigate the knowledge of things, if we are alone desirous to apprehend their resemblance, which is the case with the multitude, we shall be placed in the third degree, and may easily acquire the object of our pursuit. But if we should fortunately possess the true philosophical genius, which is rare in the extreme, and, aspiring to the fifth degree, should by a happy event attain to its conjunction, — though such a contact is clearer and more certain than all knowledge, yet it is difficult to express it in words, and to manifest it to others. And the reason of this is obvious : first, because tvords are wanting which exactly correspond to the essence of a thing, since these are only the symbols of shadows. Secondly, because we speak with those who are alone conversant with shadows, and a?'e on this account derided by them, when they find that our
jiftJi does not by any means accord with material resemblances, which they consider as the only realities.
8, And here a question very naturally presents itself for our solution, viz.: whether the soul, while united with the body, is able to perceive ideas without the assistance of the phantasy. For it seems difficult to apprehend how the soul, thus depressed and weighed down with the terrene mass, should be able to raise herself to the supernal light of ideas, and become united with their refulgence. The opinion of the Peripatetics is well known, that some phantasm must always accompany intelligence, but this is denied by the Platonists, and I think with great reason. For the operations of intellect are not dependent on the phantasy, though the perceptions of the latter proceed from the energies of the former, Besides, as Plotinus beautifully observes, our most vigorous energies are accompanied with the . least animadversion; and there is no absurdity in supposing that by increasing the force of intellectual energy we may speculate free from all imagination, since the phantasms attending our conceptions become weak in proportion as the intellectual sight increases in vigor. On this account the Platonists affirm that the moral virtues free us from the vehemence of perturbations; but the contemplative from imagination, and the senses. Hence, too, the sciences may be called living waters; in which the wings of the soul being dipped, her feathers, which were either separated or broken by her lapse into body, are repaired and restored to a resemblance of their former perfection. For the wings are the powers of the soul, leading to intelligibles, but the feathers are as well the natural instincts to good and truth asreasons inserted in the soul, which either fall off or are broken by her descent into the body, and conjunction with its ruinous bonds. But these are repaired and invigorated by the sciences, which, like living streams,
flowing from the fountains of ideas, restore life and perfection to the soul. Hence Plato, in the Phaedrus, asserts that these wings of the soul are increased by everything which conduces to supernal elevation, as Beauty, Wisdom, and the like; and, by a convenient metaphor in the same Dialogue, he considers the chariot of the soul's lives, her charioteer, and the horses by which her car is drawn ; and, lastly, everything which contributes to the elevation of the soul, and her conjunction With intellect and ideas. We may, therefore, conclude that this conjunction is possible to be effected, though it is rarely obtained; and that it is a flight too arduous and sacred for the grovelling and sordid; a splendor too bright for the sensible eye; and a contact too ineffable to be described by the unstable composition of words.
But I cannot conclude this dissertation without soliciting the reader's attention to a comparison of the difference between the ancient philosophy, and that invented by Mr. Locke and the moderns. According to Mr. Locke's system ideas are formed from sensible particulars, by a kind of mechanical operation; so that truth is something by its nature posterior to sensation, and entirely dependent on it for existence. According to Plato Ideas are eternal and immaterial beings, the originals of all sensible forms, and the fountains of all evidence and truth ; so that on this system truth ranks among the first, and not in the last of things; and would still retain its nature, though the corporeal senses were no more. According to Mr, Locke the soul is a mere tabula rasa, an empty recipient, a mechanical blank. According to Plato she is an ever-written tablet, a plenitude of forms, a vital and intellectual energy. On the former system she is on a level with the most degraded natures, the receptacle of material species, and the spectator of delusion and non-entity. Hence her energies are nothing but somnolent perceptions, and encumbered
cogitations; for all her knowledge terminates in sense, and her science in passion. Like a man between sleeping and waking, her visions are turpid and confused, and the phantoms of a material night continually glide before her drowsy eye. But on the latter system the soul is the connecting medium of an intelligible and sensible nature, the bright repository of all middle forms, and the vigilant eye of all cogitative reasons.* Hence she is capable of rousing herself from the sleep of a corporeal life, and emerging from this dark Cimmerian land into the regions of light and reality. At first, indeed, before she is excited by science, she is oppressed with lethargy, and clouded with oblivion; but in proportion as learning and enquiry stimulate her dormant powers she wakens from the dreams of ignorance, and opens her eye to the irradiations of wisdom. On Mr. Locke's system the principles of science and sense are the same, for the energies of both originate from material forms, on which they are continually employed. Hence science is subject to the flowing and perishable nature of particulars; and if body and its attributes were destroyed, would be nothing but a name. But on the system of Plato they differ as much as delusion and reality; for here the vital, permanent and lucid nature of ideas is the fountain of science; and the inert, unstable and obscure nature of sensible objects, the source of sensation. On Mr. Locke's system body may be modi-
Lest the superficial render should think this is nothing more than declamation, let him attend to the following argument. If the soul possesses another eye different from that of sense — and that she does so the scien- \V ces sufficiently evince — there must be, in the nature of things, species accommodated to her perception, different from sensible forms. For if our intellect speculates things which hare no real subsistence, such as Mr. Locke's ideas, its condition must be much more unhappy than that of the sensitive eye, since this is co-ordinated to beings — but intellect would speculate nothing but illusions. Now, if this be absurd, and if we possess an int ellectua l eyej which is endued with a visive power, there must ' be forms correspondent and conjoined with its vision; forms immovable indeed by a corporeal motion, but moved by an intellectual energy.
intelligent creature; it may be subtilized into life, and shrink by its exility into intellect. On that of Plato body can never alter its nature by modification, however it may be rarefied and refined, varied by the transposition of its parts, or tortured by the hand of experiment. In short, the two systems may be aptly represented by the two sections of a line, in Plato's Republic. In the ancient you have truth itself, and whatever participates of the brightest evidence and reality; in the modern ignorance, and whatever belongs to obscurity and shadow. The former fills the soul with intelligible light, breaks her lethargic fetters, and elevates her to the principle of things; the latter clouds the intellectual eye of the soul by increasing her oblivion, strengthens her corporeal bands, and hurries her downward into the dark labyrinths of matter.
Nor is it wonderful there should be so great a difference between the two systems, and so much in favor of the ancients, if we consider the great advantages these ancients possessed over the moderns in everything which contributes to the advancement of philosophy. For, in the first place, they lived in an age when abstract investigations were in the greatest request, and the professors of such pursuits in the highest estimation. Besides this, they united the most exalted abilities with the most unwearied attention and obstinate perseverance; they devoted their whole lives to the search of truth and relinquished everything which might be an obstacl to its acquisition. We may add, likewise, the adva ages of a language extremely philosophical, and a ire dom from the toil of learning any tongue but their Now the reverse of all this is the portion of th erns; for in the present age abstract speculati iculed, and its professors despised. The ; is considered as perfectly consist cations, and is rattier pro seen
toils of business than of a thing desirable for its own sake, and of the greatest dignity and worth. Hence a few years desultory application at a college, where language is one of the first objects of attention, qualifies a modern for philosophy, raises him above Pythagoras and Plato, and persuades him with presumptuous confidence to enter the lists against these venerable heroes. And, lastly, all modern languages are barbarous with respect to the Greek, falling far short of its harmony and energy, its copiousness and propriety. If such then be the true state of the case, what judgment must we form of men who, with all these disadvantages, philosophized without the assistance of the ancients, despising their works, and being ignorant of their contents? Shall we call it prudence or presumption, wisdom or folly? Truth will certainly pronounce the latter, and the general voice of posterity will confirm her decision. There are two egregious instances in our own country of this daring presumption: I mean Baco n and Locke. The former of these is celebrated for having Hesfroyed the jargon of the schoolmen, and brought experimental enquiries into repute; and for attempting to investigate causes through the immensity of particular effects. Hence he fondly expected, by experiment piled on experiment, to reach the principle of the universe; not considering that his undertaking was as ridiculous as that of the Giants of o ld, who attempted to invade the heavens by placing Ossa upon Pelion, and Olympus upon Ossa, and ignorant that
"Heaven still, with laughter, the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise."
The latter of these, Mr. Locke, is applauded for having, without assistance from the ancients, explained the nature and exhibited the genuine theory of the human understanding. But that this applause is false, the
The soul in bonds lethargic holds,
Yet still some vivid rays remain
Indignant of her dark domain.
The sparks of truth in dormant state
The wings of learning suscitate,
Or whence spontaneously arise
To every question fit replies,
Unless deep merg'd in mind profound,
The principle of truth was found?
And thus, if Plato's muse sings true,
To learn is mem'ry to renew.
— Thomas Taylor.
Epitome of the
Platonic Theory of Reminiscence
Quisquis profunda mente vestigat verum Cupitque nullis ille deviis falli, In se revolvat intimi lucem visus Longosque in orbem cogat inflectens motus, Animumque doceat quidquid extra molitur Suis retrusum possidere thesauris. Dudum quod atra texit erroris nubes, Lucebit ipso perspicacius Phoebo: Non omne namque mente depulit lumen, Obliviosam corpus invehens molem. Haeret profecto semen introrsum veri, Quod excitatur ventilante doctrina: Nam cur rogati sponte recta censetis, Ni mersus alto viveret fomes corde? Quod si Platonis Musa personat verum, Quod quisque discit, immemor recordatur. Boethii De Consolatione Philosophiae Lib. III. Met. XL
Who'er to deep research inclin'd Desires the truth itself to find, And from the clouds of Errour free Its bright and sacred light would see, Let him with mind profound reflect, And all his scatter'd thoughts collect, His vain external search give o'er And view his soul's immortal store. Since truth dispersing Errour's night Will then outshine the solar light. For tho' dull body in her folds
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