Míguez
6. Em qual sentido então, nisto que precede, relacionamos o que depende de nós à vontade em afirmando «é o que deve acontecer como o vimos»? E adicionamos no mesmo lugar: «ou não acontecer». Se consequentemente o que se afirma atualmente é exato, e se o que se disse anteriormente deve estar de acordo com estas afirmações, sustentaremos que a virtude e o intelecto são soberanos e que é a eles de se deve relacionar o que depende de nós e a liberdade. Pois estas faculdades não têm mestre: o intelecto depende dele mesmo, e a virtude deseja não depender senão dela mesma em dominando a alma a fim de torná-la boa, e nesta medida a virtude é ela mesma livre e torna a alma livre. Por outro lado, quando surgem paixões e ações impostas pela necessidade, a virtude, em exercendo seu domínio, não quis que elas acontecessem, e no entanto, mesmo nesta situação, ela preserva o que depende dela em o fazendo restabelecer nela mesma, mesmo aqui em baixo: ela não se deixa levar pelas circunstâncias, por exemplo quando se trata de salvar um indivíduo que está em perigo; mas se isso lhe parece bom, ela sacrificará este indivíduo e lhe forçará a sacrificar seu bens, seus filhos e sua pátria mesmo, em tendo em vista sua própria beleza, e não a existência das realidades que lhe são inferiores. Consequentemente, mesmo nas ações, a livre disposição de si e o que depende de nós não devem ser reportados à realização de uma ação, assim como ao ato externo, mas ao ato interior, quer dizer à intelecção e à contemplação próprias à virtude ela mesma. Por conseguinte, deve-se dizer desta virtude que ela é um certo intelecto, em não contando entre as virtudes as afecções que são submissas à razão ou que são medidas por ela, pois estas últimas, como o afirma Platão, parecem «se aproximar do corpo» sendo ao mesmo tempo «corrigidas pelos hábitos e os exercícios». Doravante é mais claro que o que é imaterial é o que é livre, e que é a isso que se deve reportar o que depende de nós; e esta realidade imaterial é a vontade ela mesma, aquela que é soberana e que está nela mesma, mesmo se, de toda necessidade, ela exerce autoridade sobre o que é exterior. Consequentemente, tudo o que deriva desta vontade e que se encontra realizado graças a ela depende de nós, tanto o que é exterior quanto o que está nela mesma. O que quer a vontade e o ato que ela realiza sem encontrar obstáculo, é isso que depende de nós em primeiro lugar. Deste fato, o intelecto contemplativo, quer dizer o primeiro Intelecto, depende dele mesmo desta maneira, posto que seu ato não depende de maneira alguma de um outro, mas é inteiramente voltado para ele mesmo, seu ato é ele mesmo, e reside no Bem, desfrutando de uma existência plena e sem necessidade, e vivendo, se se pode dizer, conforme a sua vontade. Sua vontade, com efeito, é sua intelecção; se a nomeou vontade porque e;a é conforme ao intelecto. Pois o que se chama vontade imita o que é conforme ao intelecto. De fato, a vontade busca o Bem, enquanto pensar é o ser verdadeiramente no Bem. O Intelecto possui portanto o que busca sua vontade, e é em encontrando este objeto que a vontade se torna intelecção. Consequentemente, se situamos o que depende de nós na vontade do Bem, o que já está estabelecido nisto que sua vontade quer ser, como isso não teria a capacidade de depender de si? Ou então, é preciso dar ao intelecto uma posição superior, se se prefere não elevar a este nível a capacidade de depender de si.
Bouillet
VI. Comment donc avons-nous rapporté précédemment la liberté à la volonté, en disant que ce qui dépend de nous est ce qui a lieu selon que nous le voulons ? — Nous avons ajouté : ou n’a pas lieu. Si donc nous sommes ici dans le vrai, et si nous sommes d’accord avec ce que nous avons avancé plus haut, nous devons reconnaître que la vertu et l’intelligence sont maîtresses d’elles-mêmes et que c’est à elles qu’il faut rapporter notre libre arbitre et notre indépendance. Puisqu’elles n’ont pas de maître, nous admettrons que l’intelligence demeure en elle-même, que la vertu veut également rester calme en elle-même en réglant l’âme pour qu’elle soit bonne, et que dans cette mesure elle est libre elle-même et elle rend l’âme libre. S’il survient des passions ou des actions nécessaires, elle les dirige sans avoir voulu qu’elles eussent lieu; cependant elle conserve encore son indépendance en ramenant tout a elle-même. Elle ne s’occupe pas en effet des choses extérieures pour sauver le corps en danger, par exemple, tout au contraire, elle l’abandonne, si bon lui semble; elle ordonne à l’homme de renoncer à la vie, à ses richesses, à ses enfants, à sa patrie même : car elle a pour but de faire ce qui est honnête pour elle, et non de sauver l’existence de ce qui lui est inférieur. Ceci montre évidemment que notre liberté d’action et notre indépendance ne se rapportent point à l’activité pratique, ni aux occupations du dehors, mais à l’activité intérieure, à la pensée, à la contemplation de la vertu même. Il faut regarder cette vertu comme une espèce d’intelligence et ne pas la confondre avec les passions que domine et gouverne la raison : car celles-ci, comme le dit Platon, semblent tenir quelque chose du corps, corrigées qu’elles sont par l’habitude et par l’exercice (27). 505 C’est donc évidemment au principe immatériel qu’appartient la liberté et qu’il faut rapporter notre libre arbitre. Ce principe, c’est la volonté qui est maîtresse d’elle-même et qui demeure en elle-même : car si elle prend quelque résolution relative aux choses extérieures, elle ne le fait que par nécessité. Tout ce qui procède d’elle et existe par elle dépend de nous et est libre; ce qu’elle veut et qu’elle fait sans obstacle, soit en elle, soit hors d’elle, voilà ce qui dépend de nous au premier degré. L’intelligence contemplative et première possède donc l’indépendance (τὸ ἐφ’ ἑαυτῷ), parce que dans l’accomplissement de sa fonction elle ne dépend nullement d’un autre être, parce qu’en la remplissant elle reste tout entière tournée vers elle-même, qu’elle ne s’occupe que d’elle, qu’elle se repose dans le bien, et que satisfaite, sans besoin, elle vit selon sa volonté. La volonté d’ailleurs n’est que la pensée; mais elle a été nommée volonté parce qu’elle est conforme à l’intelligence (28): car la volonté imite ce qui est conforme à l’intelligence. D’un côté, la volonté désire le bien ; de l’autre, pour l’intelligence, penser véritablement, c’est être dans le bien. L’intelligence possède donc ce que désire la volonté, et dès que celle-ci l’a atteint, elle devient par là même pensée. Ainsi, puisque nous attribuons la liberté à la volonté du bien, comment ne l’accorderions-nous pas à l’intelligence qui est édifiée dans ce que désire la volonté ? Si l’on refuse à l’intelligence la liberté, ce ne peut être que pour lui reconnaître quelque chose de plus élevé encore.
Guthrie
LIBERTY REFERS TO THE INTERIOR LIFE, RATHER THAN TO THE EXTERIOR.
6. How then did we previously refer liberty to volition, saying that “that which depends on us, our responsibility, is that which occurs according to our will”? Yes, but we added, “or does not occur.” If indeed we be right, and if we continue to support our former opinion, we shall have to recognize that virtue and intelligence are their own mistresses, and that it is to them that we must refer our free will and independence. Since they have no master, we shall admit that (our) intelligence remains within itself, that virtue must equally remain calm in itself, regulating the soul so as to make her good, and that in this respect it itself is both free, and enfranchises the soul. If passions or necessary actions arise, (virtue) directs them automatically; nevertheless she still preserves her independence (or, freedom) by getting into relations with everything. For instance, (virtue) does not engage in exterior things to save the body in times of danger; on the contrary, she abandons it, if it seem advisable; she orders the man to renounce even life, wealth, children, and fatherland; for her object is to be honorable, relinquishing anything beneath her dignity. This evidently shows that our liberty of action and independence do not refer to practical matters, nor to external occupations, but to interior activity, to thought, to the contemplation of virtue itself. This virtue must be considered as a kind of intelligence, and must not be confused with the passions that dominate and govern reason; for these, as (Plato) says, seem to derive something from the body, though trained by exercise and habit.
LIBERTY DEPENDS ON THE HIGHEST INTELLIGENCE.
Liberty therefore belongs to the immaterial principle, and to this should be traced our free will. This principle is the volition which rules itself, and which remains within itself; even when by necessity compelled to take some resolution affecting external affairs. All that proceeds from (the immaterial principle) and exists by it, depends on us, and is free; what is outside of it, and with it; what it itself wills and carries out unhindered, also constitutes what primarily depends on us. The contemplative and primary Intelligence therefore possesses independence, because in the accomplishment of its function it depends on no other being, because fulfilling (its function, Intelligence) remains entirely turned towards itself, exclusively engaged with itself, resting in the Good, living according to its will, satisfied, and without needs. Besides, will is nothing more than thought; but it was called “will” because it was conformed to intelligence; for will imitates what conforms to intelligence. On the one hand, will desires the Good; on the other, for Intelligence to think truly, is to abide within the Good. Intelligence therefore possesses what the will desires, and, in attaining these its desires, will becomes thought. Since, therefore, we define liberty as the will’s achievement of the Good, why should not liberty also be predicated of the Intelligence which is founded on (the Good) that is the object of the desire of our will? If, however, there should still be objection to ascribing liberty to intelligence, this could be the case only by ascribing it to something still higher (namely, super-Intelligence).
MacKenna
6. How then did we come to place freedom in the will when we made out free action to be that produced – or as we also indicated, suppressed – at the dictate of will?
If what we have been saying is true and our former statement is consistent with it, the case must stand thus:
Virtue and Intellectual-Principle are sovereign and must be held the sole foundation of our self-disposal and freedom; both then are free; Intellectual-Principle is self-confined: Virtue, in its government of the soul which it seeks to lift into goodness, would wish to be free; in so far as it does so it is free and confers freedom; but inevitably experiences and actions are forced upon it by its governance: these it has not planned for, yet when they do arise it will watch still for its sovereignty calling these also to judgement. Virtue does not follow upon occurrences as a saver of the emperilled; at its discretion it sacrifices a man; it may decree the jettison of life, means, children, country even; it looks to its own high aim and not to the safeguarding of anything lower. Thus our freedom of act, our self-disposal, must be referred not to the doing, not to the external thing done but to the inner activity, to the Intellection, to virtue’s own vision.
So understood, virtue is a mode of Intellectual-Principle, a mode not involving any of the emotions or passions controlled by its reasonings, since such experiences, amenable to morality and discipline, touch closely – we read – on body.
This makes it all the more evident that the unembodied is the free; to this our self-disposal is to be referred; herein lies our will which remains free and self-disposing in spite of any orders which it may necessarily utter to meet the external. All then that issues from will and is the effect of will is our free action; and in the highest degree all that lies outside of the corporeal is purely within the scope of will, all that will adopts and brings, unimpeded, into existence.
The contemplating Intellect, the first or highest, has self-disposal to the point that its operation is utterly independent; it turns wholly upon itself; its very action is itself; at rest in its good it is without need, complete, and may be said to live to its will; there the will is intellection: it is called will because it expresses the Intellectual-Principle in the willing-phase and, besides, what we know as will imitates this operation taking place within the Intellectual-Principle. Will strives towards the good which the act of Intellectual-Principle realizes. Thus that principle holds what will seeks, that good whose attainment makes will identical with Intellection.
But if self-disposal is founded thus on the will aiming at the good, how can it possibly be denied to that principle permanently possessing the good, sole object of the aim?
Any one scrupulous about setting self-disposal so high may find some loftier word.