Plotino – Tratado 32,1 (V, 5, 1) — Porque os inteligíveis não podem se encontrar fora do Intelecto

Míguez

1. En cuanto a la Inteligencia, a la verdadera y real Inteligencia, ¿podría ciertamente equivocarse y no formular juicios verdaderos? De ningún modo. Porque, ¿cómo sería Inteligencia careciendo de las facultades de ella? Conviene, por lo pronto, que sepa siempre y que no olvide en ningún momento; su saber, pues, no estará hecho de conjetura, ni de ambigüedad, ni será, por decirlo de otro modo, un saber de oídas. Tampoco podría decirse que trabaja con la demostración, porque si se afirma que usa en algunos casos de la demostración, se admite con ello un cierto y evidente conocimiento de sí misma. (Aunque el razonamiento dice que todos lo son, porque, ¿cómo podría delimitarse lo que es evidente y lo que no lo es?). Pero, en cuanto a lo que es evidente por sí mismo con el asentimiento de todos, ¿de dónde se hará provenir esta evidencia? ¿De dónde saldrá la prueba de que es así? Tenemos, por ejemplo, ante nosotros los objetos de la sensación, que parecen ofrecer la mayor evidencia sobre sí mismos. Y, sin embargo, aún existen dudas sobre ellos, puesto que nos preguntamos si no tendrán una existencia aparente que descanse, no en realidades, sino en afecciones que sufren los sentidos; añadamos, además, que necesitamos enjuiciarlos con la inteligencia y la reflexión. Porque, aun concediendo que lo que la sensación nos place ver se encuentra verdaderamente en los seres, lo que es conocido por medio de ella resulta ser una imagen de la cosa, con lo que la sensación no alcanza a aprehender la cosa misma, que permanece así fuera de ella.

Mas, la Inteligencia conoce, y conoce los inteligibles; ahora bien, esos seres que conoce son algo diferente de ella, ¿cómo puede encontrarse con ellos? Ciertamente, esto podría tener lugar, por lo cual es posible que no los conozca, salvo que los haya encontrado alguna vez. No tendrá, pues, siempre, el conocimiento de tales seres. Pero, ¿y si se dijese que está unida a ellos? Podría preguntarse, entonces, en qué consiste esta ligazón. Por otra parte, es claro que los pensamientos serán improntas, y, por consiguiente, conocimientos adquiridos y experimentados. ¿Cómo dejarán impresa su impronta y cuál será su forma? El pensamiento, lo mismo que la sensación, será pensamiento de algo externo; por tanto, ¿en qué se diferenciará sino en el hecho de ser una percepción de objetos más pequeños? ¿Y cómo sabrá que realmente los percibe? ¿Cómo sabrá, por ejemplo, que un objeto es bueno, o bello, o justo? Cada una de estas propiedades es algo diferente del objeto mismo y no es en el objeto donde se encuentran los principios de nuestro juicio que facilitan la creencia, sino que estos principios resultan extraños a él, e incluso, la verdad, que se encuentra en otro lugar. Por lo demás, o los inteligibles carecen de sensación, de vida y de inteligencia o poseen realmente la inteligencia. Si poseen la inteligencia, se dan en ellos a la vez las dos cosas, esto es, la verdad y la primera Inteligencia, con lo cual hemos de investigar cuál es aquí esta verdad y esta inteligencia. ¿Son las dos una misma cosa y existen ambas a la vez? ¿O se trata de dos cosas diferentes? ¿Qué son, en realidad? Porque si los inteligibles carecen de Inteligencia y de vida, ¿a qué viene el considerarlos como seres? Porque no lo son ni las proposiciones, ni los axiomas, ni las cosas abstractas, que deberán ser tenidos como algo que se dice de otras cosas, Pero no como los seres mismos. Así, cuando se afirma que lo justo es bello, lo justo y lo bello tienen una realidad diferente de la que se dice de ellos. Y, sin embargo, podrá argüirse, los inteligibles son estos mismos términos simples, justo y bello, tomados separadamente. Pero, entonces, claro es, si constituyen la primera unidad, ni algo que se comprenda en una unidad, encontrándose separados unos de otros. ¿En dónde podrán hallarse y por qué lugares podrán estar esparcidos? ¿Y qué rodeo deberá emplear la Inteligencia para poder alcanzarlos? ¿Cómo pues, permanecerá inmóvil? ¿Y cómo, además permanecerá en sí misma? ¿Qué forma y qué impronta recibirá de los inteligibles? Porque éstos no se encuentran en ella como imágenes de oro o de cualquier otra materia, producidas por un escultor o por un pintor. Si así fuese, la Inteligencia que contempla quedaría convertida en sensación. Pero, ¿por qué uno de los inteligibles la justicia y otro otra cosa? Y esto todavía como cosa más importante: porque si se admite que los inteligibles se encuentran fuera de la Inteligencia, e incluso que ella los contempla en esta situación, resulta imposible que poses la verdad y que no se equivoque en todo aquello que ella contempla. Ciertamente, los seres verdaderos son los seres inteligibles; pero la Inteligencia los contempla sin poseerlos y, al aprehenderlos de esta manera, no conoce de ellos más sus imágenes. Así, pues, al no retener la verdad, dado no aprehende más que imágenes de lo verdadero, poseerá tan sólo el error, pero nunca la verdad. Si sabe que no más que lo falso, tendrá que reconocer que está privada de la verdad. Mas, sí ni siquiera conoce esto, y cree en cambio que posee la verdad que no posee, su error será todavía doble y, con mucha más razón, se mantendrá alejada de la verdad. Por ello, a mi juicio, en las sensaciones hay verdad alguna, sino tan sólo opinión. Y es opinión, precisamente por su carácter receptivo. Una cosa es lo que ella recibe, y otra muy distinta el ser del que tiene lo que ella recibe. Si, pues, no hay verdad en la Inteligencia, esta inteligencia no es la verdad, ni una inteligencia verdadera, ni, por supuesto, la inteligencia absoluta. Ahora bien, la verdad no podrá encontrarse en otra parte.

Bouillet

I. Y a-t-il quelqu’un qui puisse croire que l’intelligence véritable et réelle soit capable de se tromper et d’admettre l’existence de choses qui n’existeraient pas ? Personne, assurément. Comment l’intelligence mériterait-elle encore le nom d’intelligence si elle n’était pas intelligente ? Il faut donc qu’elle possède toujours la science sans être sujette à l’oubli, et que la science qu’elle possède ne soit ni conjecturale, ni douteuse, ni empruntée à autrui, ni par conséquent acquise au moyen de la démonstration : car, supposât-on qu’elle dût quelque chose à la démonstration, on ne refuserait pas sans doute d’admettre qu’elle possède par elle-même des connaissances certaines ; mais disons plutôt, comme l’exige la raison, qu’elle tire tout de son propre fond. Autrement, comment distinguerait-on ce qu’elle aurait par elle-même de ce qu’elle tiendrait d’autrui ? D’où viendrait la certitude des connaissances qu’elle ne devrait qu’à elle-même ? Comment aurait-elle le droit de croire que les choses sont telles qu’elle les conçoit ? En effet, quoique les choses qui tombent sous les sens semblent capables de produire en nous le plus haut degré d’évidence, on se demande si leur nature apparente ne dépend pas plus de nos modifications que des objets eux-mêmes ; on exige pour y croire l’assentiment de l’intelligence, ou du moins de la raison discursive : car, tout en admettant que les choses perçues par les sens existent dans les objets sensibles, on n’en reconnaît pas moins que ce qui est perçu par la sensation n’est qu’une représentation de l’objet extérieur et que la sensation n’atteint pas cet objet même, puisqu’il reste en dehors d’elle. Mais, quand l’intelligence connaît, et qu’elle connaît les intelligibles, comment les rencontre-t-elle, si elle les connaît comme existant hors d’elle-même ? Ne peut-il arriver qu’elle ne les rencontre pas, par conséquent, qu’elle ne les connaisse pas ? Si c’est par hasard qu’elle les rencontre, la connaissance qu’elle en aura sera accidentelle et passagère. Dira-t-on que la connaissance s’opère par l’union de l’intelligible avec l’intelligence ? Alors quel sera le lien qui les unit ? Dans cette hypothèse, les connaissances que l’intelligence aura de l’intelligible seront des empreintes (τύποι (tupoi]] de la réalité, et, par conséquent, ce seront des impressions accidentelles. Comment de pareilles empreintes pourront-elles exister dans l’intelligence ? Quelle forme auront-elles ? Enfin, comme elles resteront extérieures à l’intelligence, leur connaissance ne ressemblera-t-elle pas à la sensation ? En quoi en différera-t-elle ? Sera-ce en ce que l’intelligence percevra des objets plus ténus ? Comment saura-t-elle qu’elle les perçoit réellement ? Comment saura-t-elle qu’une chose est bonne, juste, belle ? Le juste, le bien, le beau lui seront extérieurs et étrangers : elle n’aura pas en elle-même les principes qui pourraient régler ses jugements et mériter sa confiance ; ils seront hors d’elle ainsi que la vérité.

D’un autre côté, ou les intelligibles sont privés de sentiment, de vie et d’intelligence, ou ils sont intelligents. S’ils sont intelligents, ils ne font, ainsi que la vérité, qu’une seule chose avec l’intelligence, et cette chose est l’intelligence première. Dans ce cas, nous aurons à chercher dans quel rapport sont l’intelligence, l’intelligible et la vérité. N’y a-t-il là qu’une seule chose ? Y a-t-il deux choses ? Si les intelligibles sont sans vie, sans intelligence, que sont-ils ? Car ils ne sont ni des propositions, ni des axiomes, ni des mots, parce que, dans ce cas, ils énonceraient des choses différentes d’eux, ils ne seraient pas les choses mêmes ; ainsi, quand on dit que le bien est beau, ces deux choses seraient étrangères l’une à l’autre. Avancera-t-on que les intelligibles, que la beauté et la justice, par exemple, sont des choses simples, mais complètement séparées l’une de l’autre ? D’abord, l’intelligible ne sera plus un, ne résidera plus en un sujet un ; il sera dispersé en une foule de choses particulières : alors, en quels lieux seront ainsi éparpillés les éléments divers de l’intelligible ? Ensuite, comment l’intelligence pourra-t-elle embrasser ces éléments et les suivre dans leurs pérégrinations ? Comment restera-t-elle permanente, et se fixera-t-elle sur des objets identiques ? Quelle forme d’ailleurs, quelle figure auront les intelligibles ? Seront-ils comme des statues d’or ou des effigies et des images faites avec quelque autre matière ? Dans ce cas, l’intelligence qui les contemplera ne différera pas de la sensation. Pourquoi l’un d’eux sera-t-il la justice, un autre une autre chose ? Enfin, ce qui est le plus important, si l’on admet que les intelligibles soient extérieurs à l’intelligence, il en résultera nécessairement que, contemplant des objets ainsi placés hors d’elle, l’intelligence n’en possédera pas une véritable connaissance, qu’elle n’en aura qu’une fausse intuition. Puisque, dans cette hypothèse, les vraies réalités demeureront extérieures à l’intelligence, celle-ci, en les contemplant, ne les possédera pas ; en les connaissant, elle ne saisira que leurs images. Réduite ainsi à ne percevoir que des images de la vérité, au lieu de posséder la vérité même, elle ne saisira que des choses mensongères et n’atteindra point les réalités. Dans ce cas, ou elle reconnaîtra qu’elle ne saisit que des choses mensongères, et elle sera obligée d’avouer qu’elle n’a point la vérité en partage ; ou elle l’ignorera, elle croira posséder la vérité quand elle en est privée, et, se trompant ainsi doublement, elle sera par là même encore plus éloignée de la vérité. C’est pour cette raison, je crois, que la sensation ne peut atteindre la vérité : elle est réduite à l’opinion (δόξα (doxa]], parce qu’elle est une puissance réceptive (παραδεχομένη (paradechomenê]], comme l’exprime le mot δόξα (doxa) [dérivé de δέχεσθαι (dechesthai), recevoir], et parce qu’elle reçoit une chose étrangère : car l’objet dont elle reçoit ce qu’elle possède reste hors d’elle. Donc, chercher la vérité hors de l’intelligence, c’est réduire celle-ci à n’être ni la vérité, ni l’intelligence véritable ; c’est anéantir l’intelligence ; et la vérité qui doit l’habiter ne subsistera plus nulle part.

Guthrie

KNOWLEDGE OF THE INTELLIGIBLE ENTITIES IMPLIES THEIR PRESENCE.

1. Surely, nobody could believe that the veritable and real Intelligence could be deceived, and admit the existence of things that do not exist? Its very name guarantees its intelligent nature. It therefore possesses knowledge without being subject to forgetful-ness, and its knowledge is neither conjectural, doubtful, nor borrowed, nor acquired by demonstration. Even if we did admit that some of its knowledge was derived from demonstration, no one will deny that it possesses certain knowledge from within itself. It would be wiser, however, to be entirely reasonable and say that it derives everything from within itself. Without this, it would be difficult to distinguish what knowledge it derived from itself, and what was derived from outside. Even the certainty of the knowledge derived from itself would vanish, and it would lose the right to believe that things really are such as it imagines. Indeed, though the things whose knowledge we derive from the senses seem capable of producing in us the highest evidential value, it may still be asked whether their apparent nature do not derive more from modifications in us than from the objects themselves. Even so, belief in them demands assent of the intelligence, or at least of the discursive reason, for though we admit that things perceived by the senses exist in sensible objects, it is none the less recognized that what is perceived by sensation is only a representation of the exterior object, and that sensation does not reach to this object itself, since it remains exterior to sensation. But when intelligence cognizes, and is cognizing intel-ligibles, intelligence could never even meet them if they are cognized as lying outside of Intelligence. One explanation would be that intelligence does not at all meet them, nor cognize them. If it be by chance that intelligence meets them, the cognition of them will also be accidental and transient. The explanation that cognition operates by union of the intelligence with the intelligible depends on explanation of the bond that unites them. Under this hypothesis, the cognitions of the intelligible gathered by intelligence will consist of impressions (or, types) of reality, and will consequently be only accidental impressions. Such, however, could not exist in Intelligence; for what would be their form? As they would remain exterior to Intelligence, their knowledge would resemble sensation. The only distinction of this knowledge from sensation would be that intelligence cognizes more tenuous entities. Intelligence would never know that it really perceives them. It would never really know for certain that a thing was good, just or beautiful. In this case the good, just and beautiful would be exterior and foreign to it; Intelligence, in itself, will not possess any forms to regulate its judgments, and deserve its confidence; they, just as much as truth, would remain outside of it.

INTELLIGENCE IS ANNIHILATED BY THE THEORY THAT TRUTH IS EXTERNAL TO IT.

On the other hand, the intelligible entities are either deprived of feeling, life and intelligence, or they are intelligent. If they be intelligent, they, like truth, fuse with intelligence into the primary Intelligence. In this case we shall have to inquire into the mutual relations of intelligence, intelligible entity, and truth. Do these constitute but one single entity, or two? What in the world could intelligible entities be, if they be without life or intelligence? They are surely neither propositions, axioms, nor words, because in this case they would be enunciating things different from themselves, and would not be things themselves; thus, when you say that the good is beautiful, it would be understood that these two notions are foreign to each other. Nor can we think that the intelligibles — for instance, beauty and justice — are entities that are simple, but completely separate from each other; because the intelligible entity would have lost its unity, and would no longer dwell within a unitary subject. It would be dispersed into a crowd of particular entities, and we would be forced to consider into what localities these divers elements of the intelligible were scattered. Besides, how could intelligence embrace these elements and follow them in their vicissitudes? How could intelligence remain permanent? How could it fix itself on identical objects? What will be the forms or figures of the intelligibles ? Will they be like statues of gold, or like images and effigies made of some other material ? In this case, the intelligence that would contemplate them would not differ from sensation. What would be the differentiating cause that would make of one justice, and of the other something else? Last, and most important, an assertion that the intelligible entities are external to Intelligence would imply that in thus contemplating objects exterior to itself Intelligence will not gain a genuine knowledge of them, having only a false intuition of them. Since, under this hypothesis, true realities will remain exterior to Intelligence, the latter, while contemplating them, will not possess them; and in knowing them will grasp only their images. Thus reduced to perceiving only images of truth, instead of possessing truth itself, it will grasp only deceptions, and will not reach realities. In this case (intelligence will be in the dilemma) of either acknowledging that it grasps only deceptions, and thus does not possess truth; or intelligence will be ignorant of this, being persuaded it possesses truth, when it really lacks it. By thus doubly deceiving itself, intelligence will by that very fact be still further from the truth. That is, in my opinion, the reason why sensation cannot attain the truth. Sensation is reduced to opinion because it is a receptive power — as indeed is expressed by the word “opinion”; — and because sensation receives something foreign, since the object, from which sensation receives what it possesses remains external to sensation. Therefore, to seek truth outside of intelligence is to deprive intelligence of truth or verity of intelligence. It would amount to annihilating Intelligence, and the truth (which was to dwell within it) will no longer subsist anywhere.

MacKenna

1. The Intellectual-Principle, the veritably and essentially intellective, can this be conceived as ever falling into error, ever failing to think reality?

Assuredly no: it would no longer be intelligent and therefore no longer Intellectual-Principle: it must know unceasingly – and never forget; and its knowledge can be no guesswork, no hesitating assent, no acceptance of an alien report. Nor can it call on demonstration or, we are told it may at times act by this or, I method, at least there must be something patent to it in virtue of its own nature. In actual fact reason tells us that all its knowledge is thus inherent to it, for there is no means by which to distinguish between the spontaneous knowledge and the other. But, in any case, some knowledge, it is conceded, is inherent to it. Whence are we to understand the certainty of this knowledge to come to it or how do its objects carry the conviction of their reality?

Consider sense-knowledge: its objects seem most patently certified, yet the doubt returns whether the apparent reality may not lie in the states of the percipient rather than in the material before him; the decision demands intelligence or reasoning. Besides, even granting that what the senses grasp is really contained in the objects, none the less what is thus known by the senses is an image: sense can never grasp the thing itself; this remains for ever outside.

Now, if the Intellectual-Principle in its act – that is in knowing the intellectual – is to know these its objects as alien, we have to explain how it makes contact with them: obviously it might never come upon them, and so might never know them; or it might know them only upon the meeting: its knowing, at that, would not be an enduring condition. If we are told that the Intellectual-Principle and the Intellectual Objects are linked in a standing unity, we demand the description of this unity.

Next, the intellections would be impressions, that is to say not native act but violence from without: now how is such impressing possible and what shape could the impressions bear?

Intellection, again, becomes at this a mere handling of the external, exactly like sense-perception. What then distinguishes it unless that it deals with objects of less extension? And what certitude can it have that its knowledge is true? Or what enables it to pronounce that the object is good, beautiful, or just, when each of these ideas is to stand apart from itself? The very principles of judgement, by which it must be guided, would be [as Ideas] excluded: with objects and canons alike outside it, so is truth.

Again; either the objects of the Intellectual-Principle are senseless and devoid of life and intellect or they are in possession of Intellect.

Now, if they are in possession of Intellect, that realm is a union of both and is Truth. This combined Intellectual realm will be the Primal Intellect: we have only then to examine how this reality, conjoint of Intellectual-Principle and its object, is to be understood, whether as combining self-united identity with yet duality and difference, or what other relation holds between them.

If on the contrary the objects of Intellectual-Principle are without intelligence and life, what are they? They cannot be premises, axioms or predicates: as predicates they would not have real existence; they would be affirmations linking separate entities, as when we affirm that justice is good though justice and good are distinct realities.

If we are told that they are self-standing entities – the distinct beings Justice and Good – then [supposing them to be outside] the Intellectual Realm will not be a unity nor be included in any unity: all is sundered individuality. Where, then, are they and what spatial distinction keeps them apart? How does the Intellectual-Principle come to meet with them as it travels round; what keeps each true to its character; what gives them enduring identity; what conceivable shape or character can they have? They are being presented to us as some collection of figures, in gold or some other material substance, the work of some unknown sculptor or graver: but at once the Intellectual-Principle which contemplates them becomes sense-perception; and there still remains the question how one of them comes to be Justice and another something else.

But the great argument is that if we are to allow that these objects of Intellection are in the strict sense outside the Intellectual-Principle, which, therefore, must see them as external, then inevitably it cannot possess the truth of them.

In all it looks upon, it sees falsely; for those objects must be the authentic things; yet it looks upon them without containing them and in such knowledge holds only their images; that is to say, not containing the authentic, adopting phantasms of the true, it holds the false; it never possesses reality. If it knows that it possesses the false, it must confess itself excluded from the truth; if it fails of this knowledge also, imagining itself to possess the truth which has eluded it, then the doubled falsity puts it the deeper into error.

It is thus, I suppose, that in sense-perception we have belief instead of truth; belief is our lief; we satisfy ourselves with something very different from the original which is the occasion of perception.

In fine, there would be on the hypothesis no truth in the Intellectual-Principle. But such an Intellectual-Principle would not be truth, nor truly an Intellectual-Principle. There would be no Intellectual-Principle at all [no Divine Mind]: yet elsewhere truth cannot be.