Thus, according to the ancient (Platonic or Empedoclean) maxim, “courage, temperance, all the virtues, nay, even prudence, are but purifications.” The mysteries were therefore wise in teaching that the man who has not been purified will, in hell, dwell at the bottom of a swamp; for everything that is not pure, because of its very perversity, delights in mud, just as we see the impure swine wallow in the mud with delight. And indeed, what would real temperance consist of, if it be not to avoid attaching oneself to the pleasures of the body, and to flee from them as impure, and as only proper for an impure being? What else is courage, unless no longer to fear death, which is mere separation of the soul from the body? Whoever therefore is willing to withdraw from the body could surely not fear death. Magnanimity is nothing but scorn of things here below. Last, prudence is the thought which, detached from the earth, raises the soul to the intelligible world. The purified soul, therefore, becomes a form, a reason, an incorporeal and intellectual essence; she belongs entirely to the divinity, in whom resides the source of the beautiful, and of all the qualities which have affinity with it. [Ennead I,6 (1) 6]
(f) (If the soul is anything but simple matter, she must be constituted by a substantial form.) Those who claim that the soul is a body are, by the very force of the truth, forced to recognize the existence, before and above them, of a form proper to the soul; for they acknowledge the existence of an intelligent spirit, and an intellectual fire (as do the Stoics, following in the footsteps of Heraclitus, Stobaeus). According to them, it seems that, without spirit or fire, there cannot be any superior nature in the order of beings, and that the soul needs a location where she may be built up. On the contrary, it is bodies alone that need to be built up on something, and indeed, they are founded on the powers of the soul. If really we do believe that the soul and life are no more than a spirit, why add the qualification “of a certain characteristic,” a meaningless term employed when forced to admit an active nature superior to that of bodies. As there are thousands of inanimate spirits, not every spirit is a soul. If only that spirit is a soul which possesses that “special characteristic,” this “special characteristic” and this “manner of being” will either be something real, or will be nothing. If they are nothing, there will be nothing real but spirit, and this alleged “manner of being” is nothing more than a word. In that system, therefore, nothing but matter really exists. God, the soul, and all other things are no more than a word; the body alone really subsists. If, on the contrary, that “manner of being” is something real, if it is anything else than substrate or matter, if it resides in matter without being material or composed of matter, it must then be a nature different from the body, namely, a reason (by a pun). [Ennead IV,7 (2) 4]
(18). If intelligible entities are separated from sense objects, how does it happen that the soul descends into a body? So long as the soul is a pure and impassible intelligence, so long as she enjoys a purely intellectual life like the other intelligible beings, she dwells among them; for she has neither appetite nor desire. But that part which is inferior to intelligence and which is capable of desires, follows their impulsion, “proceeds” and withdraws from the intelligible world. Wishing to ornament matter on the model of the Ideas she contemplated in Intelligence, in haste to exhibit her fruitfulness, and to manifest the germs she bears within her (as said Plato, in the Banquet), the soul applies herself to produce and create, and, as result of this application, she is, as it were, orientated (or, in “tension”) towards sense-objects. With the universal Soul, the human soul shares the administration of the whole world, without, however, entering it; then, desiring to administer some portion of the world on her own responsibility, she separates from the universal Soul, and passes into a body. But even when she is present with the body, the soul does not devote herself entirely to it, as some part of her always remains outside of it; that is how her intelligence remains impassible. [Ennead IV,7 (2) 13]
Intelligence, therefore, essentially constitutes all beings; and when Intelligence thinks them, they are not outside of Intelligence, and neither precede nor follow it. Intelligence is the first legislator, or rather, it is the very law of existence. Parmenides therefore was right in saying, “Thought is identical with existence.” The knowledge of immaterial things is therefore identical with those things themselves. That is why I recognize myself as a being, and why I have reminiscences of intelligible entities. Indeed, none of those beings is outside of Intelligence, nor is contained in any location; all of them subsist in themselves as immutable and indestructible. That is why they really are beings. If they were born, or perished, they would possess existence only in an incidental manner, they would no longer be beings; it would be the existence they possessed which would be essence. It is only by participation that sense-things are what they are said to be; the nature that constitutes their substance derives its shape from elsewhere, as the metal receives its shape from the sculptor, and wood from the carpenter; while the image of art penetrates into the matter, the art itself remains in its identity, and within itself possesses the genuine existence of the statue or of the bed. That is how the bodies’ general necessity of participating in images shows that they are different from the beings; for they change, while the entities are immutable, possess within themselves their own foundation, and have no need of existing in any location, since they have no extension, and since they subsist in an intellectual and absolute existence. Again, the existence of the bodies needs to be guarded by some other principle, while intelligence, which furnishes the existence for objects in themselves perishable, has need of nothing to make itself subsist. [Ennead V,9 (5) 5]
Since the thought is something essentially one (?), the form, which is the object of thought, and the idea, are one and the same thing. Which is this thing? Intelligence and the intellectual “being,” for no idea is foreign to intelligence; each form is intelligence, and the whole intelligence is all the forms; every particular form is a particular intelligence. Likewise science, taken in its totality, is all the notions it embraces; every notion is a part of the total science; it is not separated from the science locally, and exists potentially in the whole science. Intelligence resides within itself, and by possessing itself calmly, is the eternal fulness of all things. If we conceived it as being prior to essence, we would have to say that it was the action and thought of Intelligence which produced and begat all beings. But as, on the contrary, it is certain that essence is prior to Intelligence, we should, within the thinking principle, first conceive the beings, then actualization and thought, just as (the nature) of fire is joined by the actualization of the fire, so that beings have innate intelligence as their actualization. Now essence is an actualization; therefore essence and intelligence are but a single actualization, or rather both of them fuse. Consequently, they form but a single nature, as beings, the actualization of essence, and intelligence. In this case the thought is the form, and the shape is the actualization of the being. When, however, in thought we separate essence from Intelligence, we must conceive one of these principles as prior to the other. The Intelligence which operates this separation is indeed different from the essence from which it separates; but the Intelligence which is inseparable from essence and which does not separate thought from essence is itself essence and all things. [Ennead V,9 (5) 8]
What then are the things contained within the unity of Intelligence which we separate in thinking of them? They must be expressed without disturbing their rest, and we must contemplate the contents of Intelligence by a science that somehow remains within unity. Since this sense-world is an animal which embraces all animals, since it derives both its general and special existence from a principle different from itself, a principle which, in turn, is derived from intelligence, therefore intelligence must itself contain the universal archetype, and must be that intelligible world of which Plato (well) says; “Intelligence sees the ideas contained within the existing animal.” Since an animal, whose (seminal) reason exists with the matter fit to receive it, must of course be begotten, so the mere existence of a nature that is intellectual, all-powerful, and unhindered by any obstacle — since nothing can interpose between it and the (substance) capable of receiving the form — must necessarily be adorned (or, created) by intelligence, but only in a divided condition does it reveal the form it receives, so that, for instance, it shows us on one hand a man, and on the other the sun, while intelligence possesses everything in unity. [Ennead V,9 (5) 9]
The qualities that are natural, quantities, numbers, magnitudes, states, actions and natural experiences, movements and recuperations, either general or particular, are among the contents of the intelligible world, where time is replaced by eternity, and space is replaced by the “telescoping” of intelligible entities (that are within each other). As all entities are together in the intelligible world, whatever entity you select (by itself) is intellectual and living “being,” identity and difference, movement and rest; it is what moves, and what is at rest; it is “being,” and quality; that is, it is all. There every essence is in actualization, instead of merely being in potentiality; consequently it is not separated from quality. [Ennead V,9 (5) 10]
Let us therefore consider the arts and their products. Unless as represented within human reason, we cannot refer to the intelligible world arts of imitation such as painting, sculpture, dancing, or acting, because they are born here below, take sense-objects as models, representing their forms, motions, and visible proportions. If, however, we possess a faculty which, by studying the beauties offered by the symmetry of animals, considers the general characteristics of this symmetry, it must form part of the intellectual power which, on high, contemplates universal symmetry. Music, however, which studies rhythm and harmony, is, so far as it studies what is intelligible in these things, the image of the music that deals with intelligible rhythm. [Ennead V,9 (5) 11]
Consider now the human soul which undergoes numberless ills while in the body, eking out a miserable existence, a prey to griefs, desires, fears, sufferings of all kinds, for whom the body is a tomb, and the sense-world a “cave” or “grotto.” This difference of opinions about the condition of the universal Soul and the human soul is not contradictory, because these two souls do not have the same reasons for descent into a body. To begin with, the location of thought, that we call the intelligible world, contains not only the entire universal Intelligence, but also the intellectual powers, and the particular intelligences comprised within the universal Intelligence; since there is not only a single intelligence, but a simultaneously single and plural intelligence. Consequently, it must also have contained a single Soul, and a plurality of souls; and it was from the single Soul, that the multiple particular and different souls had to be born, as from one and the same genus are derived species that are both superior and inferior, and more or less intellectual. Indeed, in the intelligible world, there is, on one hand, the (universal) Intelligence which, like some great animal, potentially contains the other intelligences. On the other hand, are the individual intelligences, each of which possess in actualization what the former contains potentially. We may illustrate by a living city that would contain other living cities. The soul of the universal City would be more perfect and powerful; but nothing would hinder the souls of the other cities from being of the same kind. Similarly, in the universal Fire, there is on one hand a great fire, and on the other small fires, while the universal Being is the being of the universal Fire, or rather, is the source from which the being of the universal Fire proceeds. [Ennead IV,8 (6) 3]
The function of the rational soul is to think, but she does not limit herself to thinking. Otherwise there would be no difference between her and intelligence. Besides her intellectual characteristics, the soul’s characteristic nature, by virtue of which she does not remain mere intelligence, has a further individual function, such as is possessed by every other being. By raising her glance to what is superior to her, she thinks; by bringing them down to herself, she preserves herself; by lowering them to what is inferior to her, she adorns it, administers it, and governs it. All these things were not to remain immovable in the intelligible world, to permit of a successive issue of varied beings, which no doubt are less perfect than that which preceded them, but which, nevertheless, exist necessarily during the persistence of the Principle from which they proceed. [Ennead IV,8 (6) 3]
Since the nature of the Soul is so divine and precious, you may be assured of being able to reach the divinity through her; with her you can ascend to Him. You will not need to search for Him far from yourself; nor will there be several intermediaries between yourself and Him. To reach Him, take as guide the divinest and highest part of the Soul, the power from which she proceeds, and by which she impinges on the intelligible world. Indeed, in spite of the divinity which we have attributed to her, the Soul is no more than an image of Intelligence. As the exterior word (speech) is the image of the (interior) word (of thought?) of the soul, the Soul herself is the word and actualization of Intelligence. She is the life which escapes from Intelligence to form another hypostatic form of existence, just as the fire contains the latent heat which constitutes its essence (“being”), and also the heat that radiates from it outside. Nevertheless, the Soul does not entirely issue from within Intelligence; she does partly reside therein, but also forms (a nature) distinct therefrom. As the Soul proceeds from Intelligence, she is intelligible; and the manifestation of her intellectual power is discursive reason. From Intelligence the Soul derives her perfection, as well as her existence; only in comparison with Intelligence does the Soul seem imperfect. The Soul, therefore, is the hypostatic substance that proceeds from Intelligence, and when the Soul contemplates Intelligence the soul is reason actualized. Indeed, while the soul contemplates Intelligence, the Soul intimately possesses the things she thinks; from her own resources she draws the actualizations she produces; these intellectual and pure actualizations are indeed the Soul’s only characteristic activities. Those of an inferior nature really proceed from a foreign principle; they are passions. [Ennead V,1 (10) 3]
Intelligence therefore, makes the Soul diviner, because Intelligence (as a father) begets the Soul, and grants its (helpful) presence to the Soul. Nothing intervenes between them but the distinction between their natures. The Soul is to Intelligence in the same relation as that obtaining between form and matter. Now the very matter of Intelligence is beautiful, because it has an intellectual form, and is simple. How great then, must Intelligence be, if it be still greater than the Soul. [Ennead V,1 (10) 3]
The Intelligence that deserves to be called the purest intelligence, therefore, cannot have been born from any source, other than the firsfirst Principle. It must, from its birth, have begotten all beings, all the beauty of ideas, all the intelligible deities; for it is full of the things it has begotten; it devours them in the sense that it itself retains all of them, that it does not allow them to fall into matter, nor be born of Rhea. That is the meaning of the mysteries and myths; “Saturn, the wisest of the divinities, was born before Jupiter, and devoured his children.” Here Saturn represents intelligence, big with its conceptions, and perfectly pure. They add, “Jupiter, as soon as he was grown, in his turn begat.” As soon as Intelligence is perfect, it begets the Soul, by the mere fact of its being perfect, and because so great a power cannot remain sterile. Here again the begotten being had to be inferior to its principle, had to represent its image, had, by itself, to be indeterminate, and had later to be determined and formed by the principle that begat it. What Intelligence begets is a reason, a hypostatic form of existence whose nature it is to reason. The latter moves around Intelligence; is the light that surrounds it, the ray that springs from it. On the one hand it is bound to Intelligence, fills itself with it; enjoys it, participates in it, deriving its intellectual operations from it. On the other hand, it is in contact with inferior things, or rather, begets them. Being thus begotten by the Soul, these things are necessarily less good than the Soul, as we shall further explain. The sphere of divine things ends with the Soul. [Ennead V,1 (10) 7]
Above existence, therefore, is the One. This has by us been proved as far as could reasonably be expected, and as far as such subjects admit of demonstration. In the second rank are Existence and Intelligence; in the third, the Soul. But if these three principles, the One, Intelligence, and the Soul, as we have said, obtain in nature, three principles must also obtain within us. I do not mean that these three principles are in sense-objects, for they are separate therefrom; they are outside of the sense-world, as the three divine principles are outside of the celestial sphere, and, according to Plato’s expression, they constitute the “the interior man.” Our soul, therefore, is something divine; it has a nature different (from sense-nature), which conforms to that of the universal Soul. Now the perfect Soul possesses intelligence; but we must distinguish between the intelligence that reasons (the discursive reason), and the Intelligence that furnishes the principles of reasoning (pure intelligence). The discursive reason of the soul has no need, for operation, of any bodily organ; in its operations, it preserves all its purity, so that it is capable of reasoning purely. When separated from the body, it must, without any hesitation, be ranked with highest intellectual entities. There is no need of locating it in space; for, if it exist within itself, outside of body, in an immaterial condition, it is evidently not mingled with the body, and has none of its nature. Consequently Plato says, “The divinity has spread the Soul around the world.” What he here means is that a part of the Soul remains in the intelligible world. Speaking of our soul he also says, “she hides her head in heaven.” He also advises us to wean the soul from the body; and he does not refer to any local separation, which nature alone could establish. He means that the soul must not incline towards the body, must not abandon herself to the phantoms of imagination, and must not, thus, become alienated from reason. He means that the soul should try to elevate to the intelligible world her lower part which is established in the sense-world, and which is occupied in fashioning the body. [Ennead V,1 (10) 10]
We may say that there is a procession from the First to the last; and in this procession each occupies its proper place. The begotten (being) is subordinated to the begetting (being). On the other hand, it becomes similar to the thing to which it attaches, so long as it remains attached thereto. When the soul passes into the plant, there is one of her parts that unites thereto (the power of growth); but besides, it is only the most audacious and the most senseless part of her that descends so low. When the soul passes into the brute, it is because she is drawn thereto by the predominance of the power of sensation. When she passes into man, it is because she is led to do so by the exercise of discursive reason, either by the movement by which she proceeds from Intelligence, because the soul has a characteristic intellectual power, and consequently has the power to determine herself to think, and in general, to act. [Ennead V,2 (11) 2]
Besides, there is a great difference between the dark bottom of intelligible things and that of sense-objects; there is as much difference between the matter of the former and of the latter as there is between their form. The divine matter, on receiving the form that determines it, possesses an intellectual and determinate life. On the contrary, even when the matter of the bodies becomes something determinate, it is neither alive nor thinking; it is dead, in spite of its borrowed beauty. As the shape (of sense-objects) is only an image, their substrate also is only an image. But as the shape (of intelligible entities) possesses veritable (reality), their substrate is of the same nature. We have, therefore, full justification for calling matter “being,” that is, when referring to intelligible matter; for the substrate of intelligible entities really is “being,” especially if conceived of together with its inherent (form). For “being” is the luminous totality (or complex of matter and form). To question the eternity of intelligible matter is tantamount to questioning that of ideas; indeed, intelligible entities are begotten in the sense that they have a principle; but they are non-begotten in the sense that their existence had no beginning, and that, from all eternity, they derive their existence from their principle. Therefore they do not resemble the things that are always becoming, as our world; but, like the intelligible world, they ever exist. [Ennead II,4 (12) 5]
(Some objector) might ask how one could conceive of matter without quantity? This might be answered by a retort. How then do you (as you do) manage to conceive of it without quality? Do you again object, by what conception or intelligence could it be reached? By the very indetermination of the soul. Since that which knows must be similar to that which is known (as Aristotle quotes from Empedocles), the indeterminate must be grasped by the indeterminate. Reason, indeed, may be determined in respect to the indeterminate; but the glance which reason directs on the indeterminate itself is indeterminate. If everything were known by reason and by intelligence, reason here tells us about matter what reason rightly should tell us about it. By wishing to conceive of matter in an intellectual manner, intelligence arrives at a state which is the absence of intelligence, or rather, reason forms of matter a “bastard” or “illegitimate” image, which is derived from the other, which is not true, and which is composed of the other (deceptive material called) reason. That is why Plato said that matter is perceived by a “bastard reasoning.” In what does the indetermination of the soul consist? In an absolute ignorance, or in a complete absence of all knowledge? No: the indeterminate condition of the soul implies something positive (besides something negative). As for the eye, darkness is the matter of all invisible color, so the soul, by making abstraction in sense-objects of all things that somehow are luminous, cannot determine what then remains; and likewise, as the eye, in darkness (becomes assimilated to darkness), the soul becomes assimilated to what she sees. Does she then see anything else? Doubtless, she sees something without figure, without color, without light, or even without magnitude. If this thing had any magnitude, the soul would lend it a form. [Ennead II,4 (12) 10]
When we think, and think ourselves, we see a thinking nature; otherwise, we would be dupes of an illusion in believing we were thinking. Consequently, if we think ourselves, we are, by thinking ourselves, thinking an intellectual nature. This thought presupposes an anterior thought which implies no movement. Now, as the objects of thought are being and life, there must be, anterior to this being, another being; and anterior to this life, another life. This is well-known to all who are actualized intelligences. If the intelligences be actualizations which consist in thinking themselves, we ourselves are the intelligible by the real foundation of our essence, and the thought that we have of ourselves gives us its image. [Ennead III,9 (13) 6]
Within the soul the virtues have the same interconnection obtaining within Intelligence between the types superior to virtue. For Intelligence, it is thought that constitutes wisdom and prudence; conversion towards oneself is temperance; the fulfillment of one’s proper function is justice, and the intelligence’s perseverance in remaining within itself, in maintaining itself pure and separated from matter, is analogous to courage. To contemplate intelligence will therefore, for the soul, constitute wisdom and prudence, which then become virtues, and no longer remain mere intellectual types. For the soul is not identical with the essences she thinks, as is intelligence. Similarly, the other soul-virtues will correspond to the superior types. It is not otherwise with purification, for since every virtue is a purification, virtue exacts preliminary purification; otherwise, it would not be perfect. [Ennead I,2 (19) 7]
As the human reason which undertakes to examine the question here raised is not one, but divided, it makes use of corporeal nature in its researches, by borrowing its principles. That is why reason, thinking it intelligible being, similar to bodies, divides it, doubting its unity. It could not be otherwise, because its investigation was not founded on the proper immanent principles. We must, therefore, in our discussion about the one universal Essence, choose principles capable of enlisting support, principles that would be intellectual, that is, would connect with intelligible entities, and veritable being. For since our sense-nature is agitated by continual flux, being subject to all kinds of changes, trending towards all directions of space; it should consequently be called not “being,” but generation, or becoming. The eternal Essence, on the contrary, is not divided; it subsists ever in the same manner and in the same state, neither is born, nor perishes; occupies neither place nor space; does not reside in any determinate location; neither enters, nor issues, but remains in itself. A discussion about the nature of bodies begins with this (physical) nature, and the things that are related to it, which (deductively) give rise to probable proofs by the aid of syllogisms equally probable. But when we deal with intelligible entities, our starting-point must be the nature of the being considered; principles have to be legitimately derived therefrom; and then, without surreptitiously substituting any other nature (inductively), borrow from the intelligible Being itself the conception formed about it; for being, or whatness, is everywhere taken as principle; and it is said that the definition of an object, when well made, sets forth many of its accidents. Therefore, when we are dealing with things where being is everything, we must, so much the more, apply our whole attention to this being; base all our (arguments) thereon, and refer everything to it. [Ennead VI,5 (23) 2]
Let us return to our subject. We were seeking how we might attain the Good with our souls. The Good that you attain is not different from the one that I myself attain; it is the same. And when I say that it is the same, I do not mean that from the Good descended upon us both different things, so that the Good would remain somewhere on high, while His gifts descended down here; on the contrary, I mean that He who gives is present to those who receive, so that these may veritably receive; I mean besides that He gives His gifts to beings who are intimately united with Him, and not to beings who might be foreign to Him; for intellectual gifts cannot be communicated in a local manner. One even sees different bodies, in spite of the distance that separates them, receiving the same gifts, because the gift granted, and the effect produced tend to the same result; much more, all the actions and passions which produce themselves in the body of the universe are contained within it, and nothing comes to it from without. Now if a body, which by its nature as it were scatters itself (because it is in a perpetual flowing wastage), nevertheless, receives nothing from without, how would a being that has no extension retain nothing from without, how would a being that has no extension retain something from without? Consequently, as all are contained in one and the same Principle, we see the good, and we altogether touch it by the intelligible part of our nature. [Ennead VI,5 (23) 10]
Sensations are not affections, but actualizations, and judgments, relative to passions. The affections occur in what is other (than the soul); that is, in the organized body, and the judgment in the soul. For if the judgment were an affection, it would itself presuppose another judgment, and so on to infinity. Though accepting this statement, we must, nevertheless, examine whether the judgment itself, as such, in nowise participates in the nature of its object; for if it receive the impression thereof, it is passive. Besides, the “images derived from the senses” — to use the popular language — are formed in a manner entirely different from what is generally believed. They are in the same case as the intellectual conceptions, which are actualizations, and through which, without being affected, we know objects. In general, neither our reason nor our will permit us, in any way, to attribute to the soul modifications and changes such as the heating or cooling of bodies. Further, we have to consider whether that part of the soul, that is called the passive (or affective, or irrational), must also be be considered as unalterable, or as being affectible. But we will take up this question later; we must begin by solving our earlier problems. [Ennead III,6 (26) 1]
Among the questions raised about the soul, we purpose to solve here not only such as may be solved with some degree of assurance, but also such as may be considered matters of doubt, considering our researches rewarded by even only a definition of this doubt. This should prove an interesting study. What indeed better deserves careful examination and close scrutiny than what refers to the soul? Among other advantages, the study of the soul has that of making known to us two order of things, those of which she is the principle, and those from which she herself proceeds. This examination will be in line with the divine precept to “know ourselves.” Before seeking to discover and understand the remainder, it is no more than right first to apply ourselves to finding out the nature of the principle that embarks in these researches; and as we are seeking what is lovable, we will do well to contemplate the most beautiful of spectacles (that of our own intellectual nature); for if there be a duality, in the universal (Soul), so much more likely will there be a duality in individual intelligences. We should also examine the sense in which it may be said that souls are sanctuaries of the divinity; but this question will not admit of solution till after we have determined how the soul descends into the body. [Ennead IV,3 (27) 1]
Now we must consider whether our souls themselves are (emanations) from the universal Soul. It may be insisted that, to demonstrate that our souls are not particles of the universal Soul, it does not suffice to show that our souls go as far (in their procession) as the universal Soul, nor that they resemble (the universal Soul) in their intellectual faculties, granting indeed that such a resemblance be admitted; for we might say that parts conform to the whole they compose. We might invoke Plato’s authority, and insist that he teaches this opinion in that (part of the Philebus) where he affirms that the universe is animate: “As our body is a part of the universe, our soul is a part of the SoulSoul of the universe.” We might add that (Plato) states and clearly demonstrates that we follow the circular movement of heaven, that from it we receive, our moral habits and condition; that as we were begotten in the universe, our soul must be derived from the surrounding universe; and as each part of us participates in our soul, we ourselves should participate in the SoulSoul of the universe, of which we are parts in the same way as our members are parts of ourselves. Last, we might quote the following words: “The universal Soul takes care of all that is inanimate.” This sentence seems to mean that there is no soul outside of the universal Soul; for it is the latter that cares for all that is inanimate. [Ennead IV,3 (27) 1]
If there were no body, the soul could not have any procession, since the body is the natural locality of her development. As the soul must extend, she will beget a receiving locality, and will, consequently, produce the body. The soul’s rest is based, and depends for growth on (the intellectual category of) rest itself. The soul thus resembles an immense light which weakens as it becomes more distant from its source, so that at the extremity of its radiation, it has become no more than an adumbration. However, the soul evidently gave a form to this adumbration from the very beginning of things. It was, indeed, by no means suitable that what approached the soul should in no way participate in reason; consequently there came to be an adumbration of reason in (matter), this adumbration being the soul. The universe thus became a beautiful and varied dwelling, which was not deprived of the presence of the universal Soul by her not totally incorporating within it. She judged that the whole universe was worthy of her care, and she thus gave it as much “being” and beauty as it was able to receive, without herself losing any of it, because she manages the world while herself remaining above it in the intelligible sphere. By so animating it, she thus grants it her presence, without becoming its property; she dominates it, and possesses it, without being, thereby, dominated or possessed. The universe, indeed, is in the containing Soul, and participates therein entirely. (The universe is in the Soul as is) a net in the sea, on all sides penetrated and enveloped by life, without ever being able to appropriate it. So far as it can, this net extends along with the sea, for none of its parts could be elsewhere than it is. By nature the universal Soul is immense, because her magnitude is not definite; so that by one and the same power she embraces the entire body of the world, and is present throughout the whole extension. Without it, the world-Soul would make no effort to proceed into extension, for by herself she is all that it is her nature to be. The magnitude of the universe therefore is determined by that of the location of the Soul; and the limits of its extent are those of the space within which it is animated by her. The extension of the adumbration of the Soul is therefore determined by that of the “reason” which radiates from this focus of light; and on the other hand, this “reason” was to produce such an extension as its nature urged it to produce. [Ennead IV,3 (27) 9]
On the other hand, as the power of sensation and the power of appetite, which belong to the sensible and imaginative soul, are beneath reason, because they are related to what is inferior, while reason is above, the result was that the ancients localized reason in the highest part of the animal, in the head; not that reason is in the brain, but because reason is seated in the sense-power, by the intermediation of which, only, reason may be said to reside in the brain. The sense-power, surely, had to be attributed to the body, and, within the body, to the organs most capable of lending themselves to its action. Reason, which has no (direct) dealing with the body, had however to be in relation with the sense-power, which is a form of the soul, and can participate in reason. The sense-power, does, to a certain extent, judge; and the power of imagination has something intellectual. Last, the appetite, and the desire somehow connect with imagination and reason. Reason, therefore, is in the head, not as in a locality, but because it is in relation with the sense-power which resides in that organ, as has been shown above. [Ennead IV,3 (27) 23]
What about intellectual conceptions? Are they also preserved by imagination? If imagination accompany every thought, and if later it, as it were, preserves its image, we should thus have the memory of the known object; otherwise some other solution will have to be sought. Perhaps reason, whose actualization always accompanies thought, has the function of receiving it and transmitting it to imagination. Indeed, thought is indivisible, and so long as it is not evoked from the depths of intelligence, it remains as it were hidden within it. Reason develops it, and making it pass from the state of thought to that of image, spreads it out as it were in a mirror, for our imagination. That is why we grasp (the thought) only when the soul, which always desires rational thought, has achieved a thought. There is a difference between thought and the perception of thought. We are always thinking, but we do not always perceive our thought. That comes from the fact that the principle that perceives the thoughts also perceives the sensations, and occupies itself with both in turn. [Ennead IV,3 (27) 30]
If theory belong to imagination, and if both the rational and irrational souls possess memory, we will have two kinds of imagination (intellectual and sensual); and if both souls are separate, each of them will possess one kind of imagination. The theory of two kinds of imagination within us in the same principle would not account for there being two kinds of imagination; and it would leave unsolved the question to which of them memory belongs. If memory belong to both kinds of imagination, there will always be two kinds of imagination — for it cannot be said that the memory of intelligible things belongs to the one, and that of sense-things to the other; otherwise we would have two animate beings with nothing in common. If then memory equally belong to both imaginations, what difference is there between them? Besides, why do we not notice this difference? Here is the cause. [Ennead IV,3 (27) 31]
That the soul, on leaving the intelligible world, brings away with her memories thereof, implies that even in the (intelligible) world she to a certain degree already possessed memory; but this potentiality was eclipsed by the thought of the intelligible entities. It would be absurd to insist that the latter existed in the soul in the condition of simple images; on the contrary, they there constituted an (intellectual) potentiality which later passed into the condition of actualization. Whenever the soul happens to cease applying herself to the contemplation of intelligible entities she no longer sees what she formerly saw (that is, sense-objects). [Ennead IV,4 (28) 4]
Are our notions of intellectual entities actualized by the potentiality which constitutes memory? If these notions be not intuitions, it is by memory that they become actualized; if they are intuitions, it is by the potentiality which has given them to us on high. This power awakes in us every time that we rise to intelligible things, in it is that which sees what we later talk about. We do not perceive intelligible entities by imagination or reasoning, which itself is forced to draw its principles from elsewhere; it is by our faculty of contemplation, which alone enables us to speak of them while we are here below. We see them by awaking in ourselves here below the same potentiality which we are to arouse when we are in the intelligible world. We resemble a man who, climbing the peak of a rock, should, by his glance, discover objects invisible for those who have not climbed with him. [Ennead IV,4 (28) 5]
(10). A further consideration. Since intelligence is a sort of intuition, namely, a seeing (or actualizing) intuition (or vision), it really consists of a potentiality that has passed into actualization. It will therefore contain two elements, which will play the parts of (intelligible) matter, and of form, just like actualized vision, for actualized vision also implies duality. Therefore intuition, before being actualized, was unity. Thus unity has become duality, and duality has become unity. (Sense-) vision receives from sense-objects its fulness, and its perfection, so to speak. As to intellectual vision, however, its fulness comes from a principle that is the Good. Now if intelligence were the Good itself, what would be the use of its intuition or its actualization? Other beings, indeed, aspire to the Good, as the goal of their activity; but the Good itself has need of nothing; and therefore possesses nothing but itself. After having named it, nothing should be added thereto by thought; for, to add something, is to suppose that He needs this attribute. Not even intelligence should be attributed to Him; that would be introducing therein something alien, distinguishing in Him two things, Intelligence and the Good. Intelligence needs the Good, but the Good has no need of Intelligence. On achieving the Good, Intelligence takes its form, for it derives its form from the Good; and it becomes perfect, because it assumes the nature (of the Good). The model (or, archetype) must be judged by the trace it leaves in Intelligence, conceiving of its true character according to the impression it leaves. Only by this impression does Intelligence behold and achieve the Good. That is why Intelligence aspires to the Good; and as Intelligence ever aspires to the Good, Intelligence ever achieves it. The Good itself, however, never aspires to anything; for what could He desire? Nor does He achieve anything, since He desires nothing. Therefore (the Supreme) is not Intelligence, which ever desires, and aspires to the form of Good. [Ennead III,8 (30) 11]
When intelligence is in actualization it can see in two ways, as does the eye. First, the eye may see the form of the visible object; second, it may see the light by which this object is seen. This light itself is visible, but it is different from the form of the object; it reveals the form and is itself seen with this form, to which it is united. Consequently it itself is not seen distinctly, because the eye is entirely devoted to the illuminated object. When there is nothing but light, it is seen in an intuitive manner, though it be still united to some other object. For if it were isolated from every other thing, it could not be perceived. Thus the light of the sun would escape our eye if its seat were not a solid mass. My meaning will best appear by considering the whole sun as light. Then light will not reside in the form of any other visible object, and it will possess no property except that of being visible; for other visible objects are not pure light. Likewise in intellectual intuition (sight of the mind) intelligence sees intelligible objects by means of the light shed on them by the First; and the Intelligence, while seeing these objects, really sees intelligible light. But, as Intelligence directs its attention to the enlightened object, it does not clearly see the Principle that enlightens them. If, on the contrary, it forget the objects it sees, in the process of contemplating only the radiance that renders them visible, it sees both the light itself, and its Principle. But it is not outside of itself that that Intelligence contemplates intelligible light. It then resembles the eye which, without considering an exterior and foreign light, before even perceiving it, is suddenly struck by a radiance which is proper to it, or by a ray which radiates of itself, and which appears to it in the midst of obscurity. The case is still similar when the eye, in order to see no other objects, closes the eye-lids, so as to draw its light from itself; or when, pressed by the hand, it perceives the light which it possesses within itself. Then, without seeing anything exterior the eye sees, even more than at any other moment, for it sees the light. The other objects which the eye heretofore saw, though they were luminous, were not light itself. Likewise, when Intelligence, so to speak, closes its eye to the other objects, concentrating in itself, and seeing nothing, it sees not a foreign light that shines in foreign forms, but its own light which suddenly radiates interiorly, with a clear radiance. [Ennead V,5 (32) 7]
Do not seek to see this Principle by the aid of other things; otherwise, instead of seeing Him himself, you will see no more than His image. Try rather to conceive the nature of the Principle that must be grasped in Himself, that is, pure and without any admixture, because all beings participate in Him, without any of them possessing Him. No other thing indeed could be such as He; but nevertheless such a Being must exist. Who indeed could all at once embrace the totality of the power of this Principle? If a being did so, how could this being differ from Him? Would the being limit itself to embracing only a part of Him? You might grasp this Principle by an intuitive, simple intellection, but you will not be able to represent Him to yourself in His totality. Otherwise it is you who would be the thinking intelligence, if indeed you have reached that principle; but He is more likely to flee you, or more likely still, you will flee from Him. When you consider the divinity, consider Him in His totality. When you think Him, know that what you remember of Him is the Good; for He is the cause of the wise intellectual life, because He is the power from which life and intelligence proceed. He is the cause of “being” and essence, because He is one; He is simple and first, because He is principle. It is from Him that everything proceeds. It is from Him that the first movement proceeds, without being in Him; it is from Him also that proceeds the first rest, because He himself has no need of it; He himself is neither in movement nor rest; for He has nothing in which He could rest or move. By His relation to what, towards what, or in what could He move or rest? Neither is He limited, for by what could He be limited? Neither is He infinite in the manner suggested by an enormous mass; for whither would He have any need of extending Himself? Would He do so to get something? But He has need of nothing! It is His power that is infinite. He could neither change nor lack anything; for the beings which lack nothing owe this to Him only. [Ennead V,5 (32) 10]
One does not become a good man merely by scorning the divinities, the world, and the beauties it contains. Scorn of the divinities is the chief characteristic of the evil. Perversity is never complete until scorn of the divinities is reached; and if a man were not otherwise perverse, this vice would be sufficient to make him such. The respect which the (Gnostic) pretend to have for the intelligible divinities (the aeons) is an illogical accident. For when one loves a being, he loves all that attaches thereto; he extends to the children the affection for the parent. Now every soul is a daughter of the heavenly Father. The souls that preside over the stars are intellectual, good, and closer to the divinity than ours. How could this sense-world, with the divinities it contains, be separated from the intelligible world? We have already shown above the impossibility of such a separation. Here we insist that when one scorns beings so near to those that hold the front rank, it can only be that one knows them by name only. [Ennead II,9 (33) 16]
The statement that in what is immaterial, knowledge and the known thing coincide, must not be understood to mean that it is the knowledge of the thing which is the thing itself, nor that the reason which contemplates an object is this object itself, but rather, conversely, that it is the thing which, existing without matter, is purely intelligible and intellection. I do not here mean the intellection which is neither a definition nor an intuition of a thing; but I say that the thing itself, such as it exists in the intelligible world, is exclusively intelligence and knowledge. It is not (the kind of) knowledge that applies itself to the intelligible, it is the (actual) thing itself which keeps that knowledge (thereof possessed by reason) from remaining different from it, just as the knowledge of a material object remains different from that object; but it is a veritable (kind of) knowledge, that is, a knowledge which is not merely a simple image of the known thing, but really is the thing itself. It is not therefore the thought of the movement which produced movement in itself, but the movement in itself which produced the thought, so that the thought thinks itself as movement, and as thought. On the one hand, intelligible movement is thought by the intelligible Essence; on the other hand, it is movement in itself because it is first — for there is no movement anterior thereto; it is real movement, because it is not the accident of a subject, but because it is the actualization of the essence which moves, and possesses actualized (existence); it is therefore “being,” though it be conceived as different from essence. Justice, for instance, is not the simple thought of justice; it is a certain disposition of Intelligence, or rather it is an actualization of a determinate nature. The face of Justice is more beautiful than the evening or morning stars, and than all visible beauty. Justice may be imagined as an intellectual statue which has issued from itself and which has manifested itself such as it is in itself; or rather, which subsists essentially in itself. [Ennead VI,6 (34) 6]
We must, in fact, conceive intelligible essences as subsisting in one nature, and one single nature as possessing and embracing all (things). There no one thing is separated from the others, as in the sense-world, where the sun, moon, and other objects each occupy a different locality; but all things exist together in one unity; such is the nature of intelligence. The (universal) Soul imitates it, in this respect, as does also the power called Nature, conformably to which, and by virtue of which individuals are begotten each in a different place, while she remains in herself. But, although all things exist together (in the unity of Intelligence), each of them is none the less different from the others. Now, these things which subsist in Intelligence and “being,” are seen by the Intelligence that possesses them, not because it observes them, but because it possesses them without feeling the need of distinguishing them from each other; because from all eternity they have dwelt within it distinct from each other. We believe in the existence of these things on the faith of those who admire them, because they have participated therein. As to the magnitude and beauty of the intelligible world, we can judge of it by the love which the Soul feels for it, and if other things feel love for the Soul, it is because she herself possesses an intellectual nature, and that by her the other things can, to some extent, become assimilated to Intelligence. How indeed could we admit that here below was some organism gifted with beauty, without recognizing that the Organism itself (the intelligible world) possesses an admirable and really unspeakable beauty? Further, the perfect Organism is composed of all the organisms; or rather it embraces all the organisms; just as our Universe is one, yet simultaneously is visible, because it contains all the things which are in the visible universe. [Ennead VI,6 (34) 7]
(To solve this problem) let us begin by setting aside sensation, and let us contemplate Intelligence by our intelligence exclusively. Above all, let us clearly understand that, as in us life and intelligence do not consist of a corporeal mass, but in a power without mass, likewise veritable “Being” is deprived of all corporeal extension, and constitutes a power founded on itself. It does not indeed consist in something without force, but in a power sovereignly vital and intellectual, which possesses life in the highest degree, intelligence, and being. Consequently, whatever touches this power participates in the same characteristics according to the manner of its touch; in a higher degree, if the touch be close; in a lower degree, if the touch be distant. If existence be desirable, the completest existence (or, essence) is more desirable still. Likewise, if intelligence deserve to be desired, perfect Intelligence deserves to be desired above everything; and the same state of affairs prevails in respect to life. If then we must grant that the Essence is the first, and if we must assign the first rank to Essence, the second to Intelligence, and the third to the Organism, as the latter seems already to contain all things, and Intelligence justly occupies the second rank, because it is the actualization of “Being” — then number could not enter into the Organism, for before the organism already existed one and two (“Being” and Intelligence). Nor could number exist in Intelligence, for before Intelligence was “Being,” which is both one and manifold. (Number therefore must exist, or originate, in the primary Being.) [Ennead VI,6 (34) 8]
Just as we predicate being of every sense-thing, as well as of every intelligible thing, we predicate it in a higher degree of intelligible things, attributing a higher degree (of substantiality) to the (beings that are veritable than to sense-objects), and to sense-objects than to other genera (of physical objects); likewise, clearly seeing unity in sense-objects in a degree higher than in the intelligible (essences), we recognize the existence of unity in all its modes, and we refer them all to Unity in itself. Besides, just as “being and essence” are nothing sensual, though sense-objects participate therein, so unity, though by participation it inhere in sense-objects, is not any the less an intelligible Unity. Judgment grasps it by an intellectual conception; by seeing one thing (which is sensual) it also conceives another which it does not see (because it is intelligible); it therefore knew this thing in advance; and if judgment knew it in advance, judgment was this thing, and was identical with that whose existence it asserted. When it says, “a certain” object, it asserts the unity, as, when it speaks of “certain” objects, it says that they are two or more. If then one cannot conceive of any object whatever without “one,” “two,” or some other number, it becomes possible to insist that the thing without which nothing can be asserted or conceived, does not at all exist. We cannot indeed deny existence to the thing without whose existence we could not assert or conceive anything. Now that which is everywhere necessary to speak and to conceive must be anterior to speech and conception, so as to contribute to their production. If, besides, this thing be necessary to the hypostatic existence of every essence — for there is no essence that lacks unity — it must be anterior to being, and being must be begotten by it. That is why we say “an essence” instead of first positing “essence,” and “a” only thereafter, for there must be “one” in essence, to make “several” possible; but (the converse is not true; for) unity does not contain essence, unless unity itself produce it by applying itself to the begetting of it. Likewise, the word “that” (when employed to designate an object) is not meaningless; for instead of naming the object, it proclaims its existence, its presence, its “being,” or some other of its kinds of “essence.” The word “that” does not therefore express something without reality, it does not proclaim an empty conception, but it designates an object as definitely as some proper name. [Ennead VI,6 (34) 13]
What then is the intelligible line, and where does it exist? It is posterior to number; for unity appears in the line, since this starts from the unity (of the point), and because it has but one dimension (length); now the measure of dimension is not a quantative (entity). Where then does the intelligible Line exist? It exists only in the intelligence that defines it; or, if it be a thing, it is but something intellectual. In the intelligible world, in fact, everything is intellectual, and such as the thing itself is. It is in this same world, likewise, where is made the decision where and how the plane, the solid, and all other figures are to be disposed. For it is not we who create the figures by conceiving them. This is so because the figure of the world is anterior to us, and because the natural figures which are suitable to the productions of nature, are necessarily anterior to the bodies, and in the intelligible world exist in the state of primary figures, without determining limits, for these forms exist in no other subjects; they subsist by themselves, and have no need of extension, because the extension is the attribute of a subject. [Ennead VI,6 (34) 17]
(By this process) we also know the nature of Intelligence, which we see still better than the other things, though we cannot grasp its magnitude. We admit, in fact, that it possesses the whatness (essence), of everything, but not its “whyness” (its cause); or, if we grant (that this “cause” be in Intelligence), we do not think that it is separated (from its “whatness” (or, essence). Let us suppose that, for instance, the man, or, if possible, the eye, should offer itself to our contemplation (in the intelligible world) as a statue, or as a part of it, would do. The man that we see on high is both essence and cause. As well as the eye, he must be intellectual, and contain his cause. Otherwise, he could not exist in the intelligible world. Here below, just as each part is separated from the others, so is the cause separated (from the essence). On high, on the contrary, all things exist in unity, and each thing is identical with its cause. This identity may often be noticed even here below, as for instance, in eclipses. It would therefore seem probable that in the intelligible world everything would, besides the rest, possess its cause, and that its cause constitutes its essence. This must be admitted; and that is the reason why those who apply themselves to grasp the characteristic of each being succeed (in also grasping its cause). Indeed that which each (being) is, depends on the “cause of such a form.” To repeat: not only is a (being’s) form its cause, (which is incontestable), but yet, if one analyses each form considered in itself, its cause will be found. The only things which do not contain their causes are those whose life is without reality, and whose existence is shadowy. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 2]
Of which soul are these reasons, which do not beget the man (though they do beget the animal), then the actualization? Not of the vegetative soul; they are the actualizations of the (reasonable) soul which begets the animal, which is a more powerful, and therefore a more living soul. Man is constituted by the soul disposed in some manner, when present to matter disposed in some particular fashion — since the soul is some particular thing, according as she is in some particular disposition — even in the body. In the bodies, she fashions a resembling form. So far as the nature of the body allows it, she thus produces an image of the man, as the painter himself makes an image of the body; she produces, I repeat, an inferior man (the sense-man, the animal), which possesses the form of man, his reasons, morals, dispositions, faculties, although in an imperfect manner, because he is not the first man (the intellectual man). He has sensations of another kind; sensations which, though they seem clear, are obscure, if they be compared to the superior sensations of which they are the images. The superior man (the reasonable man) is better, has a diviner soul, and clearer sensations. It is he doubtless to whom Plato refers (when he says, Man is the soul); in his definition he adds, “which makes use of the body,” because the diviner man dominates the soul which uses the body, and thus uses the body only in an indirect manner. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 5]
What is the relation of the sense-power within the superior Soul (or, in the rational soul)? Intelligible sensation perceives (intelligible) objects that, speaking strictly, are not sensible, and corresponds to the (intelligible) manner in which they are perceivable. Thus (by this intelligible sense-power) the Soul perceives the supersensual harmony and also the sensual, but in a manner such as the sense-man perceives it, relating it so far as possible to the superior harmony, just as he relates the earthly fire to the intelligible Fire, which is above, and which the superior Soul felt in a manner suitable to the nature of this fire. If the bodies which are here below were up there also, the superior Soul would feel them and perceive them. The man who exists on high is a Soul disposed in some particular manner, capable of perceiving these objects; hence the man of the last degree (the sense-man) being the image of the intelligible Man, has reasons (faculties) which are also images (faculties possessed by the superior Man). The man who exists in the divine Intelligence constitutes the Man superior to all men. He illuminates the second (the reasonable man), who in his turn illuminates the third (the sense-man). The man of this last degree somewhat possesses the two others; he is not produced by them, he is rather united to them. The man who constitutes us actualizes himself as the man of the last degree. The third receives something of the second; and the second is the actualization of the first. Each man’s nature depends on the “man” according to whom he acts (the man is intellectual, reasonable, or sensual according as he exercises intelligence, discursive reason, or sensibility). Each one of us possesses the three men in one sense (potentially); and does not possess them in another (in actualization; that is, he does not simultaneously exercise intellect, reason, or sense). [Ennead VI,7 (38) 6]
When the third life (the sense-power) which constitutes the third man, is separated from the body, if the life that precedes it (the discursive reason) accompany it without nevertheless being separated from the intelligible world, then one may say that the second is everywhere the third is. It might seem surprising that the latter, when passing into the body of a brute, should drag along that part which is the being of man. This being was all beings (potentially); only, at different times, it acts through different faculties. So far as it is pure, and is not yet depraved, it wishes to constitute a man, and it is indeed a man that it constitutes; for to form a man is better (than to form a brute), and it does what is best. It also forms guardians of the superior order, but such as are still conformable to the being constituent of manhood. The (intellectual) Man, who is anterior to this being, is of a nature still more like that of the guardians, or rather, he is already a divinity. The guardian attached to a divinity is an image of him, as the sense-man is the image of the intellectual man from whom he depends; for the principle to which man directly attaches himself must not be considered as his divinity. There is a difference here, similar to that existing between the souls, though they all belong to the same order. Besides, those guardians whom Plato simply calls “guardians” (demons), should be called guardian-like, or “demonic” beings. Last, when the superior Soul accompanies the inferior soul which has chosen the condition of a brute, the inferior soul which was bound to the superior soul-even when she constituted a man-develops the (“seminal) reason” of the animal (whose condition she has chosen); for she possesses that “reason” in herself; it is her inferior actualization. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 6]
Such considerations have been arrived at merely as result of scrutiny of the consequences of the principles laid down. Our purpose was to discover how sensibility occurs in the man himself, without intelligible things falling into generation. We recognized and demonstrated that intelligible things do not incline towards sense-things, but that, on the contrary, it is the latter that aspire and rise to the former, and imitate them; that the sense-man derives from the intellectual man the power of contemplating intelligible entities, though the sense-man remain united to sense-things, as the intellectual man remains united to the intelligible entities. Indeed, intelligible things are in some respects sensual; and we may call them such because (ideally) they are Bodies, but they are perceived in a manner different from bodies. Likewise, our sensations are less clear than the perception which occurs in the intelligible world, and that we also call Sensation, because it refers to Bodies (which exist on high only in an ideal manner). Consequently, we call the man here below sensual because he perceives less well things which themselves are less good; that is, which are only images of intelligible things. We might therefore say that sensations here below are obscure thoughts, and that the Thoughts on high are distinct Sensations. Such are our views about sensibility. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 7]
(In reply, it might be asked) why are not all animals equally rational? And why are not all men also equally rational? Let us reflect: all these lives, which represent as many movements; all these intelligences, which form a plurality; could not be identical. Therefore they had to differ among each other, and their difference had to consist in manifesting more or less clearly life and intelligence; those that occupy the first rank are distinguished by primary differences; those that occupy the second rank, by secondary differences; and so forth. Thus, amidst intelligences, some constitute the divinities, others the beings placed in the second rank, and gifted with reason; further, other beings that we here call deprived of reason and intelligence really were reason and intelligence in the intelligible world. Indeed, he who thinks the intelligible Horse, for instance, is Intelligence, just as is the very thought of the horse. If nothing but thought existed, there would be nothing absurd in that this thought, while being intellectual, might, as object, have a being devoid of intelligence. But since thought and the object thought fuse, how could thought be intellectual unless the object thought were so likewise? To effect this, Intelligence would, so to speak, have to render itself unintelligent. But it is not so. The thing thought is a determinate intelligence, just as it is a determinate life. Now, just as no life, whatever it be, can be deprived of vitality, so no determinate intelligence can be deprived of intellectuality. The very intelligence which is proper to an animal, such as, for instance, man, does not cease being intelligence of all things; whichever of its parts you choose to consider, it is all things, only in a different manner; while it is a single thing in actualization, it is all things in potentiality. However, in any one particular thing, we grasp only what it is in actualization. Now what is in actualization (that is, a particular thing), occupies the last rank. Such, in Intelligence, for instance, is the idea of the Horse. In its procession, Intelligence continues towards a less perfect life, and at a certain degree constitutes a horse, and at some inferior degree, constitutes some animal still inferior; for the greater the development of the powers of Intelligence, the more imperfect these become. At each degree in their procession they lose something; and as it is a lower degree of essence that constitutes some particular animal, its inferiority is redeemed by something new. Thus, in the measure that life is less complete in the animal, appear nails, claws, or horns, or teeth. Everywhere that Intelligence diminishes on one side, it rises on another side by the fulness of its nature, and it finds in itself the resources by which to compensate for whatever it may lack. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 9]
By intellectual examples we can understand the nature of Intelligence, and see that it could not be a unity which does not admit any kind of difference. As example, consider the (“seminal) reason” of a plant, and that of an animal. If it be only a unity, without any kind of variety, it is not even a “reason,” and what is born will be no more than matter. This “reason” must therefore contain all the organs; and, while embracing all matter, it must not leave any part of it to remain identical with any other. For instance, the face does not form a single mass; it contains the nose and the eyes. Nor is even the nose something simple; it contains different parts whose variety make of it an organ; if it were reduced to a state of absolute simplicity, it would be no more than a mass. Thus Intelligence contains the infinite, because it is simultaneously one and manifold; not indeed like a house, but as is a (“seminal) reason” which is manifold interiorly. It contains within, therefore, a sort of figure (or scheme) or even a picture, on which are interiorly drawn or inscribed its powers and thoughts; their division does not take place exteriorly, for it is entirely interior. Thus the universal living Organism embraces other living beings, within which may be discovered still smaller living beings, and still smaller powers, and so on till we arrive at the “atomic form.” All these forms are distinguished from each other by their division, without ever having been confounded together, though they all occur in the constitution of a single unity. Thus exists in the intelligible world that union (by Empedocles) called “friendship”; but such union is very different from that which exists in the sense-world. In fact, the latter is only the image of the first, because it is formed of completely disparate elements. Veritable union however consists in forming but a single (thing) without admitting of any separation between (elements). Here below, however, objects are separated from each other. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 14]
Since all things have been embellished by Him who is above them, and have received their light from Him; since Intelligence derives from Him the splendor of its intellectual actualization; by which splendor it illuminates nature; since from Him also the soul derives her vital power, because she finds in Him an abundant source of life; consequently, Intelligence has risen to Him, and has remained attached to Him, satisfied in the bliss of His presence; consequently also the soul, to the utmost of her ability, turned towards Him, for, as soon as she has known Him and seen Him, she was, by her contemplation, filled with bliss; and, so far as she could see Him, she was overwhelmed with reverence. She could not see Him without being impressed with the feeling that she had within herself something of Him; it was this disposition of hers that led her to desire to see Him, as the image of some lovable object makes one wish to be able to contemplate it oneself. Here below, lovers try to resemble the beloved object, to render their body more gracious, to conform their soul to their model, by temperance and the other virtues to remain as little inferior as possible to Him whom they love, for fear of being scorned by Him; and thus they succeed in enjoying intimacy with Him. Likewise, the soul loves the Good, because, from the very beginning she is provoked to love Him. When she is ready to love, she does not wait for the beauties here below to give her the reminiscence of the Good; full of love, even when she does not know what she possesses, she is ever seeking; and inflamed with the desire to rise to the Good, she scorns the things here below. Considering the beauties presented by our universe, she suspects that they are deceptive, because she sees them clothed upon with flesh, and united to our bodies, soiled by the matter where they reside, divided by extension, and she does not recognize them as real beauties, for she cannot believe that the latter could plunge into the mire of these bodies, soiling and obscuring themselves. Last, when the soul observes that the beauties here below are in a perpetual flux, she clearly recognizes that they derive this splendor with which they shine, from elsewhere. Then she rises to the intelligible world; being capable of discovering what she loves, she does not stop before having found it, unless she be made to lose her love. Having arrived there, she contemplates all the true beauties, the true realities; she refreshes herself by filling herself up with the life proper to essence. She herself becomes genuine essence. She fuses with the Intelligible which she really possesses, and in its presence she has the feeling (of having found) what she was seeking so long. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 31]
Where then is He who has created this venerable beauty, and this perfect life? Where is He who has begotten “being”? Do you see the beauty that shines in all these forms so various? It is well to dwell there; but when one has thus arrived at beauty, one is forced to seek the source of these essences and of their beauty. Their author Himself cannot be any of them; for then He would be no more than some among them, and a part of the whole. He is therefore none of the particular forms, nor a particular power, nor all of the forms, nor all the powers that are, or are becoming, in the universe; He must be superior to all the forms and all the powers. The supreme Principle therefore has no form; not indeed that He lacks any; but because He is the principle from which all intellectual shapes are derived. Whatever is born — that is, if there be anything such as birth — must, at birth, have been some particular being, and have had its particular shape; but who could have made that which was not made by anybody? He therefore is all beings, without being any of them; He is none of the other beings because He is anterior to all of them; He is all other beings because He is their author. What greatness shall be attributed to the Principle who can do all things? Will He be considered infinite? Even if He be infinite, He will have no greatness, for magnitude occurs only among beings of the lowest rank. The creator of magnitude could not himself have any magnitude; and even what is called magnitude in “being” is not a quantity. Magnitude can be found only in something posterior to being. The magnitude of the Good is that there be nothing more powerful than He, nothing that even equals Him. How indeed could any of the beings dependent on Him ever equal Him, not having a nature identical with His? Even the statement that God is always and everywhere does not attribute to Him any measure, nor even, a lack of measure — otherwise, He might be considered as measuring the rest; nor does it attribute to Him any figure (or, outward appearance). [Ennead VI,7 (38) 32]
Consequently, the Good does not think itself either as good, nor as anything else; for it possesses nothing different from itself. It only has “a simple perception of itself in respect to itself”; but as there is no distance or difference in this perception it has of itself, what could this perception be but itself? That is why it perceives a difference where being and intelligence appear. In order to think, intelligence must admit identity and difference simultaneously. On the one hand, without the relation between the Intelligible and itself, the (mind) will not distinguish itself from (the intelligible); and on the other, without the arising of an “otherness” which would enable it to be everything, it would not contemplate all (earthly) entities. (Without this difference), intelligence would not even be a “pair.” Then, since intelligence thinks, if it think really, it will not think itself alone, for why should it not think all things? (Would it not do so) because it was impotent to do so? In short, the principle which thinks itself ceases to be simple, because in thinking itself it must think itself as something different, which is the necessary condition of thinking itself. We have already said that intelligence cannot think itself without contemplating itself as something different. Now in thinking, intelligence becomes manifold (that is, fourfold): intelligible object (thing thought) and intelligent subject (thinker); movement (or, moved), and everything else that belongs to intelligence. Besides, it must be noticed, as we have pointed out elsewhere, that, to be thought, any thought, must offer variety; but (in the divinity) this movement is so simple and identical that it may be compared to some sort of touch, and partakes in nothing of intellectual actualization (therefore, thought cannot be attributed to the divinity). What? Will (the divinity) know neither others nor Himself, and will He remain immovable in His majesty? (Surely). All things are posterior to Him; He was what He is before them. The thought of these things is adventitious, changeable, and does not apply to permanent objects. Even if it did apply to permanent objects, it would still be multiple, for we could not grant that in inferior beings thought was joined to being, while the thoughts of intelligence would be empty notions. The existence of Providence is sufficiently accounted for by its being that from which proceed all (beings). How then (in regard to all the beings that refer to Him) could (the divinity) think them, since He does not even think Himself, but remains immovable in His majesty? That is why Plato, speaking of “being,” says that it doubtless thinks, but that it does not remain immovable in its majesty. By that he means that, no doubt, “being” thinks, but that that which does not think remains immovable in its majesty; using this expression for lack of a better one. Thus Plato considers the Principle which is superior to thought as possessing more majesty, nay, sovereign majesty. [Ennead VI,7 (38) 39]
Here is another proof of it. We have stated that the world and the “being” it contains are what they would be if their production had been the result of a voluntary determination of their author, what they would still be if the divinity exercising a prevision and prescience based on reasoning, had done His work according to Providence. But as (these beings) are or become what they are from all eternity, there must also, from eternity — within the coexistent beings, exist (“seminal) reasons” which subsist in a plan more perfect (than that of our universe); consequently, the intelligible entities are above Providence, and choice; and all the things which exist in Essence subsist eternally there, in an entirely intellectual existence. If the name “Providence” be applied to the plan of the universe, then immanent Intelligence certainly is anterior to the plan of the universe, and the latter proceeds from immanent Intelligence, and conforms thereto. [Ennead VI,8 (39) 17]
If then you seek this (Principle), do not expect to find anything on the outside of Him; in Him seek all that is after Him, but do not seek to penetrate within Him; for He is what is outside (of everything), the comprehension of all things, and their measure. Simultaneously, He is the internal, being the most intimate depth of all things; (in which case) the external would be (represented by) Reason and Intelligence, which like a circumference fit around Him and depend from Him. Indeed, Intelligence is such only because it touches Him, and so far as it touches Him, and depends from Him; for it is its dependence from Him that constitutes its intelligence. It resembles a circle which is in contact with its centre. It would be universally acknowledged that such a circle would derive all its power from the centre, and would, in a higher sense, be centriform. Thus the radii of such a circle unite in a single centre by extremities similar to the distal and originating (extremities). These (distal) extremities, though they be similar to the centric ones, are nevertheless but faint traces thereof; for the latter’s potentiality includes both the radii and their (distal) extremities; it is everywhere present in the radii, manifests its nature therein, as an immature development. This is an illustration how Intelligence and Essence were born from (the divinity) as by effusion or development; and by remaining dependent from the intellectual nature of the Unity, it thereby manifests an inherent higher Intelligence, which (speaking strictly), is not intelligence, since it is the absolute Unity. A centre, even without radii or circumference, is nevertheless the “father” of the circumference and the radii, for it reveals traces of its nature, and by virtue of an immanent potency, and individual force, it begets the circumference and the radii which never separate from it. Similarly, the One is the higher archetype of the intellectual power which moves around Him, being His image. For in the Unity there is a higher Intelligence which, so to speak, moving in all directions and manners, thereby becomes Intelligence; while the Unity, dwelling above Intelligence, begets it by its power. How then could fortune, contingency and chance approach this intelligence-begetting Power, a power that is genuinely and essentially creative? Such then is what is in Intelligence, and such is what is in Unity, though that which is in Him is far superior. [Ennead VI,8 (39) 18]
(As illustration), consider the radiance shed afar by some luminous source that remains within itself; the radiation would represent the image, while the source from which it issues would be the genuine light. Nevertheless, the radiation, which represents the intelligence, is not an image that has a form foreign (to its principle), for it does not exist by chance, being reason and cause in each of its parts. Unity then is the cause of the cause; He is, in the truest sense, supreme causality, simultaneously containing all the intellectual causes He is to produce; this, His offspring, is begotten not as a result of chance, but according to His own volition. His volition, however, was not irrational, fortuitous, nor accidental; and as nothing is fortuitous in Him, His will was exactly suitable. Therefore Plato called it the “suitable,” and the “timely,” to express as clearly as possible that the (Divinity) is foreign to all chance, and that He is that which is exactly suitable. Now if He be exactly suitable, He is so not irrationally. If He be timely, He must (by a Greek pun), also be “supremely sovereign” over the (beings) beneath Him. So much the more will He be timely for Himself. Not by chance therefore is He what He is, for He willed to be what He is; He wills suitable things, and in Him that which is suitable, and the actualization thereof, coincide. He is the suitable, not as a subject, but as primary actualization manifesting Him such as it was suitable for Him to be. That is the best description we can give of Him, in our impotence to express ourselves about Him as we should like. [Ennead VI,8 (39) 18]
If we be right in attributing immortality to the heaven, we shall have to extend that conception to the stars it contains; for unless its parts endured, neither could the heaven. However, the things beneath the heaven do not form part of it. The region which constitutes the heaven does not extend further down than the moon. As to us, having our organs formed by the (vegetative) soul which was given us by the celestial divinities (the stars), and even the heaven itself, we are united to the body by that soul. Indeed, the other soul (the reasonable soul), which constitutes our person, our “me,” is not the cause of our being, but of our well-being (which consists in our intellectual life). She comes to join our body when it is already formed (by the vegetative soul), and contributes to our being only by one part, by giving us reason (in making of us reasonable beings, and men). [Ennead II,1 (40) 5]
We must posit these three genera (essence, movement, and stability) because intelligence thinks each of them separately. By thinking them simultaneously, Intelligence posits them; and, as soon as Intelligence thinks them, they are (in existence). The things whose existence (“essence”) implies matter do not exist in Intelligence; for otherwise they would be immaterial. On the contrary, immaterial things come into existence by merely being thought. So then contemplate pure Intelligence, instead of seeking it with your bodily eyes, fix on it your interior gaze. Then will you see the hearth of “Being,” where shines an unsleeping light; you will see therein how essences subsist as simultaneously divided and united; you will see in it an abiding life, the thought which applies not to the future, but to the present; which possesses it already, and possesses it for ever; which thinks what is intimate to it, and not what is foreign. Intelligence thinks: and you have actualization and movement. Intelligence thinks what is in itself: and you have “being” and essence; for, by merely existing, Intelligence thinks: Intelligence thinks itself as existing, and the object to which Intelligence applies its thought exists also. The actualization of Intelligence on itself is not “being”; but the object to which it refers, the Principle from which it derives, is essence. Essence, indeed, is the object of intuition, but not intuition itself; the latter exists (has “essence”) only because it starts from, and returns thereto. Now as essence is an actualization, and not a potentiality, it unites both terms (existence and intuition, object and subject), and, without separating them, it makes of intuition essence, and of essence intuition. Essence is the unshakable foundation of all things, and support of their existence; it derives its possessions from no foreign source, holding them from itself, and within itself. It is simultaneously the goal of thought, because it is stability that never needed a beginning, and the principle from which thought was born, because it is unborn stability; for movement can neither originate from, nor tend towards movement. The idea also belongs to the genus of stability, because it is the goal (or limit) of intelligence; but the intellectual actualization by which it is thought constitutes movement. Thus all these things form but one thing; and movement, stability, and the things which exist in all essences constitute genera (or classifications). Moreover, every essence posterior to these genera is, in its turn, also definite essence, definite stability, and definite movement. [Ennead VI,2 (43) 8]
Thus intellectual Life, which is the perfect actualization, embraces all the things that our mind now conceives, and all intellectual operations. In its potentiality it contains all things as essences, in the same manner as Intelligence does. Now Intelligence possesses them by thought, a thought which is not discursive (but intuitive). The intellectual life therefore possesses all the things of which there are “reasons” (that is, ideas); itself is a single Reason, great, perfect, which contains all reasons, which examines them in an orderly fashion, beginning with the first, or rather, which has ever examined them, so that one could never really tell that it was examining them. For all things that we grasp by ratiocination, in whatever part soever of the universe they may be located, are found as intuitively possessed by Intelligence. It would seem as if it was Essence itself which, (being identical with Intelligence), had made Intelligence reason thus (by producing its conceptions), as appears to happen in the (“seminal) reasons” which produce the animals. In the (ideas, that is in the “seminal) reasons” which are anterior to ratiocination, all things are found to possess a constitution such that the most penetrating intelligence would have considered best, by reasoning. We should therefore expect (great and wonderful things) of these Ideas, superior and anterior to Nature and (“seminal) reasons.” There Intelligence fuses with “Being;” neither in essence nor intelligence is there anything adventitious. There everything is smoothly perfect, since everything there is conformable to intelligence. All Essence is what Intelligence demands; it is consequently veritable primary Essence; for if it proceeded from some other (source), this also would be Intelligence. [Ennead VI,2 (43) 21]
Once more it may be objected that it is essential to wisdom to be self-conscious, for happiness resides only in actualized wisdom. This objection would hold if reason and wisdom were incidentals. But if the hypostatic substance of wisdom consist in an essence (being), or rather, in being itself, and if this being do not perish during sleep, nor during unconsciousness, if consequently the activity of being continue to subsist in him; if by its very nature this (being) ceaselessly watch, then the virtuous man must even in this state (of sleep or unconsciousness), continue to exercise his activity. Besides, this activity is ignored only by one part of himself, and not by himself entirely. Thus during the operation of the actualization of growth, the perception of its activity is not by his sensibility transmitted to the rest of the man. If our personality were constituted by this actualization of growth, we would act simultaneously with it; but we are not this actualization, but that of the intellectual principle, and that is why we are active simultaneously with this (divine intellectual activity). [Ennead I,4 (46) 9]
Is it true that all things are produced by necessity, and by the natural concatenation of causes and effects, and that, thus, they are as good as possible? No! It is the Reason which, governing the world, produces all things (in this sense that it contains all the “seminal reasons”), and which decrees that they shall be what they are. It is Reason that, in conformity with its rational nature, produces what are called evils, because it does not wish everything to be equally good. An artist would not cover the body of a pictured animal with eyes. Likewise, Reason did not limit itself to the creation of divinities; it produced beneath them guardians, then men, then animals, not by envy (as Plato remarks); but because its rational essence contains an intellectual variety (that is, contains the “seminal reasons” of all different beings). We resemble such men as know little of painting, and who would blame an artist for having put shadows in his picture; nevertheless, he has only properly disposed the contrasts of light. Likewise, well-regulated states are not composed of equal orders. Further, one would not condemn a tragedy, because it presents personages other than heroes, such as slaves or peasants who speak incorrectly. To cut out these inferior personages, and all the parts in which they appear, would be to injure the beauty of the composition. [Ennead III,2 (47) 11]
The difference that exists between souls in respect to vice and virtue has several causes; among others, the inequality that exists between souls from the very beginning. This inequality conforms to the essence of universal Reason, of which they are unequal parts, because they differ from each other. We must indeed remember that souls have three ranks (the intellectual, rational, and sense lives), and that the same soul does not always exercise the same faculties. But, to explain our meaning, let us return to our former illustration. Let us imagine actors who utter words not written by the poet; as if the drama were incomplete, they themselves supply what is lacking, and fill omissions made by the poet. They seem less like actors than like parts of the poet, who foresaw what they were to say, so as to reattach the remainder so far as it was in his power. In the universe, indeed, all things that are the consequences and results of bad deeds are produced by reasons, and conform to the universal Reason. Thus, from an illicit union, or from a rape, may be born natural children that may become very distinguished men; likewise, from cities destroyed by perverse individuals, may rise other flourishing cities. [Ennead III,2 (47) 18]
If man were simple — that is, if he were no more than what he had been created, and if all his actions and passions derived from the same principle — we would no more exercise our reason to complain for his behoof than we have to complain for that of other animals. But we do have something to blame in the man, and that in the perverted man. We have good grounds for this blame, because man is not only that which he was created, but has, besides, another principle which is free (intelligence, with reason). This free principle, however, is not outside of Providence, and the Reason of the universe, any more than it would be reasonable to suppose that the things above depended on the things here below. On the contrary, it is superior things which shed their radiance on inferior ones, and this is the cause of the perfection of Providence. As to the Reason of the universe, it itself is double also; one produces things, while the other unites generated things to intelligible ones. Thus are constituted two providences: a superior one, from above (intellectual Reason, the principal power of the soul), and an inferior one, the (natural and generative power, called) reason, which derives from the first; and from both results the concatenation of things, and universal Providence (or, Providence, and destiny). [Ennead III,3 (48) 4]
That is the limit of the intellectual power of the soul. Is it, besides, capable of turning upon itself, and cognizing itself, or must this knowledge be sought for only within intelligence? If we assign this knowledge to the intellectual part of the soul; we will be making an intelligence out of it; and we will then have to study in what it differs from the superior Intelligence. If again, we refuse this knowledge to this part of the soul, we will, by reason, rise to Intelligence, and we will have to examine the nature of self-consciousness. Further, if we attribute this knowledge both to the inferior and to the superior intelligences, we shall have to distinguish self-consciousness according as it belongs to the one or to the other; for if there were no difference between these two kinds of intelligence, discursive reason would be identical with pure Intelligence. Does discursive reason, therefore, turn upon itself? Or does it limit itself to the comprehension of the types received from both (sense and intelligence); and, in the latter case, how does it achieve such comprehension? This latter question is the one to be examined here. [Ennead V,3 (49) 2]
But why should this whole (soul-) part that is superior to sensation be assigned to the soul rather than to intelligence? Because the power of the soul consists in reasoning, and because all these operations belong to the discursive reason. But why can we not simply assign to it, in addition, self-consciousness, which would immediately clear up this inquiry? Because the nature of discursive reason consists in considering exterior things, and in scrutinizing their diversity, while to intelligence we attribute the privilege of contemplating itself, and of contemplating its own contents. But what hinders discursive reason, by some other faculty of the soul, from considering what belongs to it? Because, in this case, instead of discursive reason and reasoning, we would have pure Intelligence. But what then hinders the presence of pure Intelligence within the soul? Nothing, indeed. Shall we then have a right to say that pure Intelligence is a part of the soul? No indeed; but still we would have the right to call it “ours.” It is different from, and higher than discursive reason; and still it is “ours,” although we cannot count it among the parts of the soul. In one respect it is “ours,” and in another, is not “ours;” for at times we make use of it, and at other times we make use of discursive reason; consequently, intelligence is “ours” when we make use of it; and it is not “ours” when we do not make use of it. But what is the meaning of “making use of intelligence”? Does it mean becoming intelligence, and speaking in that character, or does it mean speaking in conformity with intelligence? For we are not intelligence; we speak in conformity with intelligence by the first part of discursive reason, the part that receives impressions from Intelligence. We feel through sensation, and it is we who feel. Is it also we who conceive and who simultaneously are conceived? Or is it we who reason, and who conceive the intellectual notions which enlighten discursive reason? We are indeed essentially constituted by discursive reason. The actualizations of Intelligence are superior to us, while those of sensation are inferior; as to us, “we” are the principal part of the soul, the part that forms a middle power between these two extremes, now lowering ourselves towards sensation, now rising towards Intelligence. We acknowledge sensibility to be ours because we are continually feeling. It is not as evident that intelligence is ours, because we do not make use of it continuously, and because it is separated, in this sense, that it is not intelligence that inclines towards us, but rather we who raise our glances towards intelligence. Sensation is our messenger, Intelligence is our king. [Ennead V,3 (49) 3]
We must, therefore, teach our soul how Intelligence contemplates itself. This has to be taught to that part of our soul which, because of its intellectual character, we call reason, or discursive intelligence, to indicate that it is a kind of intelligence, that it possesses its power by intelligence, and that it derives it from intelligence. This part of the soul must, therefore, know that it knows what it sees, that it knows what it expresses, and that, if it were identical with what it describes, it would thereby know itself. But since intelligible entities come to it from the same principle from which it itself comes, since it is a reason, and as it receives from intelligence entities that are kindred, by comparing them with the traces of intelligence it contains, it must know itself. This image it contains must, therefore, be raised to true Intelligence, which is identical with the true intelligible entities, that is, to the primary and really true Beings; for it is impossible that this intelligence should originate from itself. If then intelligence remain in itself and with itself, if it be what it is (in its nature) to be, that is, intelligence — for intelligence can never be unintelligent — it must contain within it the knowledge of itself, since it does not issue from itself, and since its function and its “being” (or, true nature) consist in being no more than intelligence. It is not an intelligence that devotes itself to practical action, obliged to consider what is external to it, and to issue from itself to become cognizant of exterior things; for it is not necessary that an intelligence which devotes itself to action should know itself. As it does not give itself to action — for, being pure, it has nothing to desire — it operates a conversion towards itself, by virtue of which it is not only probable, but even necessary for it to know itself. Otherwise, what would its life consist of, inasmuch as it does not devote itself to action, and as it remains within itself? [Ennead V,3 (49) 6]
What qualities does Intelligence display in the intelligible world? What qualities does it discover in itself by contemplation? To begin with, we must not form of Intelligence a conception showing a figure, or colors, like bodies. Intelligence existed before bodies. The “seminal reasons” which produce figure and color are not identical with them; for “seminal reasons” are invisible. So much the more are intelligible entities invisible; their nature is identical with that of the principles in which they reside, just as “seminal reasons” are identical with the soul that contains them. But the soul does not see the entities she contains, because she has not begotten them; even she herself, just like the “reasons,” is no more than an image (of Intelligence). The principle from which she comes possesses an evident existence, that is genuine, and primary; consequently, that principle exists of and in itself. But this image (which is in the soul) is not even permanent unless it belong to something else, and reside therein. Indeed, the characteristic of an image is that it resides in something else, since it belongs to something else, unless it remain attached to its principle. Consequently, this image does not contemplate, because it does not possess a light that is sufficient; and even if it should contemplate, as it finds its perfection in something else, it would be contemplating something else, instead of contemplating itself. The same case does not obtain in Intelligence; there the contemplated entity and contemplation co-exist, and are identical. Who is it, therefore, that declares the nature of the intelligible? The power that contemplates it, namely, Intelligence itself. Here below our eyes see the light because our vision itself is light, or rather because it is united to light; for it is the colors that our vision beholds. On the contrary, Intelligence does not see through something else, but through itself, because what it sees is not outside of itself. It sees a light with another light, and not by another light; it, is therefore, a light that sees another; and, consequently, it sees itself. This light, on shining in the soul, illuminates her; that is, intellectualizes her; assimilates her to the superior light (namely, in Intelligence). If, by the ray with which this light enlightens the soul, we judge of the nature of this light and conceive of it as still greater, more beautiful, and more brilliant, we will indeed be approaching Intelligence and the intelligible world; for, by enlightening the soul, Intelligence imparts to her a clearer life. This life is not generative, because Intelligence converts the soul towards Intelligence; and, instead of allowing the soul to divide, causes the soul to love the splendor with which she is shining. Neither is this life one of the senses, for though the senses apply themselves to what is exterior, they do not, on that account, learn anything beyond (themselves). He who sees that superior light of the verities sees much better things that are visible, though in a different manner. It remains, therefore, that the Intelligence imparts to the soul the intellectual life, which is a trace of her own life; for Intelligence possesses the realities. It is in the life and the actualization which are characteristic of Intelligence that here consists the primary Light, which from the beginning, illumines itself, which reflects on itself, because it is simultaneously enlightener and enlightened; it is also the true intelligible entity, because it is also at the same time thinker and thought. It sees itself by itself, without having need of anything else; it sees itself in an absolute manner, because, within it, the known is identical with the knower. It is not otherwise in us; it is by Intelligence that we know intelligence. Otherwise, how could we speak of it? How could we say that it was capable of clearly grasping itself, and that, by it, we understand ourselves? How could we, by these reasonings, to Intelligence reduce our soul which recognizes that it is the image of Intelligence, which considers its life a faithful imitation of the life of Intelligence, which thinks that, when it thinks, it assumes an intellectual and divine form? Should one wish to know which is this Intelligence that is perfect, universal and primary, which knows itself essentially, the soul has to be reduced to Intelligence; or, at least, the soul has to recognize that the actualization by which the soul conceives the entities of which the soul has the reminiscence is derived from Intelligence. Only by placing herself in that condition, does the soul become able to demonstrate that inasmuch as she is the image of Intelligence she, the soul, can by herself, see it; that is, by those of her powers which most exactly resemble Intelligence (namely, by pure thought); which resembles Intelligence in the degree that a part of the soul can be assimilated to it. [Ennead V,3 (49) 8]
Have we said enough, and can we stop here? Or does our soul still feel the pains of parturition? Let her, therefore, produce (activity), rushing towards the One, driven by the pains that agitate her. No, let us rather seek to calm her by some magic charm, if any remedy therefor exist. But to charm the soul, it may perhaps be sufficient to repeat what we have already said. To what other charm, indeed, would it suffice to have recourse? Rising above all the truths in which we participate, this enchantment evanesces the moment we speak, or even think. For, in order to express something, discursive reason is obliged to go from one thing to another, and successively to run through every element of its object. Now what can be successively scrutinized in that which is absolutely simple? It is, therefore, sufficient to reach Him by a sort of intellectual contact. Now at the moment of touching the One, we should neither be able to say anything about Him, nor have the leisure to speak of Him; only later is it possible to argue about Him. We should believe that we have seen Him when a sudden light has enlightened the soul; for this light comes from Him, and is Himself. We should believe that He is present when, as another (lower) divinity, He illumines the house of him who calls on this divinity, for it remains obscure without the illumination of the divinity. The soul, therefore, is without light when she is deprived of the presence of this divinity, when illumined by this divinity, she has what she sought. The true purpose of the soul is to be in contact with this light, to see this light in the radiance of this light itself, without the assistance of any foreign light, to see this principle by the help of which she sees. Indeed, it is the principle by which she is enlightened that she must contemplate as one gazes at the sun only through its own light. But how shall we succeed in this? By cutting off everything else. [Ennead V,3 (49) 17]
In general, we might admit that the true goods which are possessed by the soul when she acts conformably to her nature, by applying herself to things determined (by reason), constitute real being; that the others, on the contrary, are not engendered by the very action of the soul, and are only passions. Likewise, false intellections lack real being, such as belongs to true intellections, which are eternal and determinate, possessing simultaneously the intellectual act, the intelligible existence and essence; and this latter not only in general, but in each real intelligible being (manifesting?) Intelligence in each idea. As to us, we must acknowledge that we possess only intellection and the intelligible; we do not possess them together (or completely), but only in general; and hence comes our love for generalities. Our conceptions, indeed, usually trend towards the general. It is only by accident that we conceive something particular; when, for instance, we conceive that some particular triangle’s angles amount to two right angles, it is only as a result of first having conceived that the triangle in general possesses this property. [Ennead III,5 (50) 7]
Let us now determine the nature of the Good, at least so far as is demanded by the present discussion. The Good is the principle on which all depends, to which everything aspires, from which everything issues, and of which everything has need. As to Him, He suffices to himself, being complete, so He stands in need of nothing; He is the measure and the end of all things; and from Him spring intelligence, being, soul, life, and intellectual contemplation. [Ennead I,8 (51) 2]
The real Man differs from the body; pure from every passion, he possesses the intellectual virtues, virtues which reside in the soul, either when she is separated from the body, or when she is — as usually here below — only separable by philosophy; for even when she seems to us entirely separated, the soul is, in this life, ever accompanied by a lower sensitive part, or part of growth, which she illuminates. [Ennead I,1 (53) 10]