Plotino – Tratado 9,3 (VI, 9, 3) — A unidade verdadeira, o Uno

2. Deve-se dizer, então, que, para cada uma das coisas cuja unidade não é senão aquela de suas partes, sua realidade não é idêntica à unidade, enquanto, no caso disto que é totalmente e de sua realidade, a realidade, isto que é e a unidade são idênticas, de sorte que, se se descobre isto que é, então também se terá descoberto a unidade, pois a realidade ela mesma é idêntica à unidade?

— Neste caso, se a realidade é o intelecto, o intelecto é também a unidade, posto que ele é isto que é primordialmente e que ele é primordialmente uno. Ele dá assim o ser às outras coisas na medida mesma em que lhes dá a unidade. Que se poderia dizer que é a unidade, com efeito, se ela não é estas coisas? Ou bem a unidade é idêntica ao ser — «homem» e «um homem» é com efeito a mesma coisa —, ou bem a unidade é como um número que corresponde à cada coisa, e como se diz «dois» de duas coisas, do mesmo modo se diz «um» de uma só coisa. Logo se o número faz parte das coisas que são, é evidente que a unidade também dele faz parte, e é necessário buscar o que ela é. Mas se, em revanche, o fato de contar não é senão uma atividade da alma que percorre as coisas, neste caso, a unidade não fará parte das coisas reais.

— O argumento não mostraria que, se uma coisa perdesse a unidade, ela não seria absolutamente?

— Logo é preciso ver se a unidade e o ser são idênticos em cada coisa, e se isto que é totalmente é idêntico à unidade. Mas se o ser em cada coisa coincide com a multiplicidade e que, em revanche, é impossível que a unidade seja uma multiplicidade, a unidade e o ser serão diferentes um do outro. Por exemplo, o homem é um animal e é dotado de razão, quer dizer que tem várias partes que estão ligadas na unidade; mas então o homem e a unidade são coisas diferentes, pois um é divisível, a outra indivisível. E certamente, isto que é totalmente, que tem nele mesmo todas as coisas que são, será ainda mais múltiplo e diferente da unidade, não possuindo essa senão por participação. Isto que é possui com efeito vida e intelecto, pois não está certamente morto; eis porque é múltiplo. Mas se é intelecto, neste caso também é necessariamente múltiplo; e o é ainda mais, se compreende as formas. Pois a forma não é una, mas ela é de preferência um número, assim como cada forma que a realidade das formas em seu conjunto, e é neste sentido que ela é una, como o mundo é um. Em resumo, a unidade é o que é primeiro, enquanto o intelecto, as formas, e isto que é não são primeiros. Pois cada forma é composta de vários elementos, e ela lhes é posterior; e estes elementos, das quais cada uma é composta, lhe são com efeito anteriores. Que seja impossível que o intelecto seja o primeiro, isso é evidente também disto que segue: o intelecto consiste necessariamente no ato de pensar, e o intelecto superior é aquele que, sem portar seu olhar sobre as coisas que lhe são exteriores, pensa isto que o precede; com efeito, se voltando para ele mesmo, se volta para o princípio. E se é isto que pensa e isto que é pensado, será duplo e não simples, e não será também não a unidade; em revanche, se porta seu olhar sobre outra coisas, se voltará em todos os casos para isto que lhe é superior e anterior; enfim, se se volta para ele mesmo e para isto que lhe é superior, neste caso também será posterior. Logo é preciso colocar um Intelecto deste gênero, que, por um lado, se aproxima do Bem e do Primeiro em portando sobre ele seu olhar, e que, por outro lado, esteja consigo mesmo, se pensa si mesmo e se pensa si mesmo como sendo todas as coisas. Logo está bem distante de ser a unidade, pois é multiforme. Logo a unidade não será todas as coisas, pois, neste caso, ela não seria mais una; nem ela não será o intelecto, pois, neste caso também, ela seria todas as coisas, posto que o intelecto é todas as coisas, nem ela não será o ser também não, pois o ser é todas as coisas.

2. It may be suggested that, while in the unities of the partial order the essence and the unity are distinct, yet in collective existence, in Real Being, they are identical, so that when we have grasped Being we hold unity; Real Being would coincide with Unity. Thus, taking the Intellectual-Principle as Essential Being, that principle and the Unity Absolute would be at once Primal Being and Pure Unity, purveying, accordingly, to the rest of things something of Being and something, in proportion, of the unity which is itself.

There is nothing with which the unity would be more plausibly identified than with Being; either it is Being as a given man is man or it will correspond to the Number which rules in the realm of the particular; it will be a number applying to a certain unique thing as the number two applies to others.

Now if Number is a thing among things, then clearly so this unity must be; we would have to discover what thing of things it is. If Number is not a thing but an operation of the mind moving out to reckon, then the unity will not be a thing.

We found that anything losing unity loses its being; we are therefore obliged to enquire whether the unity in particulars is identical with the being, and unity absolute identical with collective being.

Now the being of the particular is a manifold; unity cannot be a manifold; there must therefore be a distinction between Being and Unity. Thus a man is at once a reasoning living being and a total of parts; his variety is held together by his unity; man therefore and unity are different — man a thing of parts against unity partless. Much more must Collective Being, as container of all existence, be a manifold and therefore distinct from the unity in which it is but participant.

Again, Collective Being contains life and intelligence — it is no dead thing — and so, once more, is a manifold.

If Being is identical with Intellectual-Principle, even at that it is a manifold; all the more so when count is taken of the Ideal Forms in it; for the Idea, particular or collective, is, after all, a numerable agglomeration whose unity is that of a kosmos.

Above all, unity is The First: but Intellectual-Principle, Ideas and Being, cannot be so; for any member of the realm of Forms is an aggregation, a compound, and therefore — since components must precede their compound — is a later.

Other considerations also go to show that the Intellectual-Principle cannot be the First. Intellect must be above the Intellectual Act: at least in its higher phase, that not concerned with the outer universe, it must be intent upon its Prior; its introversion is a conversion upon the Principle.

Considered as at once Thinker and Object of its Thought, it is dual, not simplex, not The Unity: considered as looking beyond itself, it must look to a better, to a prior: looking simultaneously upon itself and upon its Transcendent, it is, once more, not a First.

There is no other way of stating Intellectual-Principle than as that which, holding itself in the presence of The Good and First and looking towards That, is self-present also, self-knowing and Knowing itself as All-Being: thus manifold, it is far from being The Unity.

In sum: The Unity cannot be the total of beings, for so its oneness is annulled; it cannot be the Intellectual-Principle, for so it would be that total which the Intellectual-Principle is; nor is it Being, for Being is the manifold of things.

III. Qu’est donc l’Un ? Quelle est sa nature ? Il n’est point étonnant qu’il soit si difficile de le dire, lorsqu’il est difficile de dire même ce que c’est que l’être, ce que c’est que la forme. Les formes sont cependant le fondement de notre connaissance. Toutes les fois que l’âme s’avance vers ce qui est sans forme (ἀνείδεον (aneideon) ), ne pouvant le comprendre parce qu’il n’est point déterminé et n’a point reçu pour ainsi dire l’empreinte d’un type distinctif, elle s’en écarte parce qu’elle craint de n’avoir devant elle que le néant. Aussi se trouble-t-elle en présence des choses de cette sorte, et redescend-elle souvent avec plaisir ; alors, s’éloignant d’elles, elle se laisse en quelque sorte tomber jusqu’à ce qu’elle rencontre quelque objet sensible, sur lequel elle s’arrête et s’affermit : semblable à l’œil, qui, fatigué par la contemplation de petits objets, se reporte volontiers sur les grands. Lorsque l’âme veut voir par elle-même, voyant alors seulement parce qu’elle est avec l’objet qu’elle voit, et de plus étant une parce qu’elle ne fait qu’un avec cet objet, elle s’imagine que ce qu’elle cherchait lui a échappé, parce qu’elle n’est pas distincte de l’objet qu’elle pense.

Toutefois, celui qui voudra faire une étude philosophique de l’Un devra adopter la marche suivante : puisque c’est l’Un que nous cherchons, puisque c’est le Principe de toutes choses, le Bien, le Premier, que nous considérons, quiconque veut l’atteindre ne s’éloignera pas de ce qui tient le premier rang pour tomber à ce qui occupe le dernier, mais il ramènera son âme des choses sensibles, qui occupent le dernier degré parmi les êtres, aux choses qui tiennent le premier rang ; il se délivrera de tout mal puisqu’il souhaite s’élever au Bien ; il remontera au principe qu’il possède en lui-même ; enfin, il deviendra un de multiple qu’il était ; ce n’est qu’à ces conditions qu’il contemplera le Principe suprême, l’Un. Devenu ainsi intelligence, ayant confié son âme à l’intelligence et l’ayant édifiée en elle, afin qu’elle perçoive avec une attention vigilante tout ce que voit l’intelligence, il contemplera l’Un avec celle-ci, sans se servir d’aucun des sens, sans mélanger aucune de leurs perceptions aux données de l’intelligence ; il contemplera, dis-je, le principe le plus pur avec l’intelligence pure, avec ce qui en constitue le degré le plus élevé. Lors donc qu’un homme qui s’applique à la contemplation d’un tel principe se le représente comme une grandeur ou une figure ou enfin une forme, ce n’est pas son intelligence qui le guide dans cette contemplation (car l’intelligence n’est pas destinée à voir de telles choses) ; c’est la sensation, ou l’opinion, compagne de la sensation, qui agit en lui. L’intelligence est seule capable de nous faire connaître les choses qui sont de son ressort.

L’Intelligence peut voir et les choses qui sont au-dessus d’elle, et celles qui lui appartiennent, et celles qui procèdent d’elle. Les choses qui appartiennent à l’Intelligence sont pures ; mais elles sont encore moins pures et moins simples que les choses qui sont au-dessus de l’Intelligence ou plutôt que la chose qui est au-dessus d’elle : cette chose n’est point l’Intelligence, elle est supérieure à l’Intelligence. L’Intelligence est en effet être, tandis que le Principe qui est au-dessus d’elle n’est point être, mais est supérieur à tous les êtres. Il n’est point non plus l’Être : car l’Être a une forme spéciale, celle de l’Être, et l’Un est sans forme (ἄμορφον (amorphon)), même intelligible. Étant la nature qui engendre toutes choses, l’Un ne peut être aucune d’elles. Il n’est donc ni une certaine chose, ni quantité, ni qualité, ni intelligence, ni âme, ni ce qui se meut, ni ce qui est stable ; il n’est ni dans le lieu ni dans le temps ; mais il est l’uniforme en soi (τὸ ϰαθ’αὑτὸ μονοειδές (to kath’hauto monoeides)), ou plutôt il est sans forme (ἀνείδεον (aneideon)), il est au-dessus de toute forme, au-dessus du mouvement et de la stabilité : car tout cela appartient à l’Être et le rend multiple. — Mais pourquoi n’est-il point stable, s’il ne se meut point ? — C’est qu’une de ces deux choses ou toutes les deux ensemble ne peuvent convenir qu’à l’Être. En outre, ce qui est stable est stable par la stabilité et n’est point identique à la stabilité même ; aussi ne possède-t-il la stabilité que par accident et ne demeure-t-il plus simple.

Qu’on ne vienne pas non plus nous objecter qu’en disant que l’Un est cause première, nous lui attribuons quelque chose de contingent ; c’est à nous-mêmes que nous attribuons alors la contingence, puisque c’est nous qui recevons quelque chose de l’Un, tandis que lui il demeure en lui-même.

Pour parler avec exactitude, il ne faut donc pas dire de l’Un qu’il est ceci ou cela [il ne faut lui donner ni un nom, ni un autre] ; nous ne pouvons, pour ainsi dire, que tourner autour de lui, et essayer d’exprimer ce que nous éprouvons [par rapport à lui], car tantôt nous approchons de l’Un, tantôt nous nous éloignons de lui par l’effet de notre incertitude à son égard.

UNITY IS DIFFICULT TO ASCERTAIN BECAUSE THE SOUL IS FEARFUL OF SUCH ABSTRUSE RESEARCHES.

3. What then is unity? What is its nature? It is not surprising that it is so difficult to say so, when it is difficult to explain of what even essence or form consist. But, nevertheless, forms are the basis of our knowledge. Everything that the soul advances towards what is formless, not being able to understand it because it is indeterminate, and so to speak has not received the impression of a distinctive type, the soul withdraws therefrom, fearing she will meet nonentity. That is why, in the presence of such things she grows troubled, and descends with pleasure. Then, withdrawing therefrom, she, so to speak, lets herself fall till she meets some sense-object, on which she pauses, and recovers; just as the eye which, fatigued by the contemplation of small objects, gladly turns back to large ones. When the soul wishes to see by herself, then seeing only because she is the object that she sees, and, further, being one because she forms but one with this object, she imagines that what she sought has escaped, because she herself is not distinct from the object that she thinks.

THE PATH OF SIMPLIFICATION TO UNITY.

Nevertheless a philosophical study of unity will follow the following course. Since it is Unity that we seek, since it is the principle of all things, the Good, the First that we consider, those who will wish to reach it must not withdraw from that which is of primary rank to decline to what occupies the last, but they must withdraw their souls from sense-objects, which occupy the last degree in the scale of existence, to those entities that occupy the first rank. Such a man will have to free himself from all evil, since he aspires to rise to the Good. He will rise to the principle that he possesses within himself. From the manifold that he was he will again become one. Only under these conditions will he contemplate the supreme principle, Unity. Thus having become intelligence, having trusted the soul to intelligence, educating and establishing her therein, so that with vigilant attention she may grasp all that intelligence sees, he will, by intelligence, contemplate unity, without the use of any senses, without mingling any of their perceptions with the flashes of intelligence. He will contemplate the purest Principle, through the highest degree of the purest Intelligence. So when a man applies himself to the contemplation of such a principle and represents it to himself as a magnitude, or a figure, or even a form, it is not his intelligence that guides him in this contemplation for intelligence is not destined to see such things; it is sensation, or opinion, the associate of sensation, which is active in him. Intelligence is only capable of informing us about things within its sphere.

UNITY AS THE UNIFORM IN ITSELF AND FORMLESS SUPERFORM.

Intelligence can see both the things that are above it, those which belong to it, and the things that proceed from it. The things that belong to intelligence are pure; but they are still less pure and less simple than the things that are above Intelligence, or rather than what is above it; this is not Intelligence, and is superior to Intelligence. Intelligence indeed is essence, while the principle above it is not essence, but is superior to all beings. Nor is it essence, for essence has a special form, that of essence, and the One is shapeless, even intelligible. As Unity is the nature that befts all things, Unity cannot be any of them. It is therefore neither any particular thing, nor quantity, nor quality, nor intelligence, nor suul, nor what is movable, nor what is stable; it is neither in place nor time; but it is the uniform in itself, or rather it is formless, as it is above all form, above movement and stability. These are my views about essence and what makes it manifold.

WHY IT IS NOT STABLE, THOUGH IT DOES NOT MOVE.

But if it does not move, why does it not possess stability? Because either of these things, or both together, are suitable to nothing but essence. Besides, that which possesses stability is stable through stability, and is not identical with stability itself; consequently it possesses stability only by accident, and would no longer remain simple.

BEING A PRIMARY CAUSE, UNITY IS NOTHING CONTINGENT.

Nor let anybody object that something contingent is attributed to Unity when we call it the primary cause. It is to ourselves that we are then attributing contingency, since it is we who are receiving something from Unity, while Unity remains within itself.

UNITY CANNOT BE DEFINED; WE CAN ONLY REFER TO IT BY OUR FEELINGS OF IT.

Speaking strictly, we should say that the One is this or that (that is, we should not apply any name to it). We can do no more than turn around it, so to speak, trying to express what we feel (in regard to it); for at times we approach Unity, and at times withdraw from it as a result of our uncertainty about it.

III. What then will the one be; and what nature will it possess? Or may we not say that it is not at all wonderful, it should not be easy to tell what it is, since neither is it easy to tell what being is, or what form is. But our knowledge is fixed in forms. When, however, the soul directs its attention to that which is formless, then being unable to comprehend that which is not bounded, and as it were impressed with forms by a former ¹ of a various nature, it falls from the apprehension of it, and is afraid it will possess [nothing from the view]. Hence, it becomes weary in endeavours of this kind, and gladly descends from the survey frequently falling from all things, till it arrives at something sensible, and as it were rests in a solid substance; just as the sight also, when wearied with the perception of small objects, eagerly converts itself to such as are large. When, however, the soul wishes to perceive by itself, and sees itself alone, then in consequence of being one with the object of its perception, it does not think that it yet possesses that which it investigates, “because it is not different from that which it intellectually perceives. At the same time, it is requisite that he should act in this manner, who intends to philosophize about the one. Since, therefore, that which we investigate is one, and we direct our attention to the principle of all things, to the good, and the first, we ought not to be far removed from the natures which are about the first of things, nor fall from them to the last of all things, but proceeding to such as are first, we should elevate ourselves from sensibles which have an ultimate subsistence. The soul, likewise, should for this purpose be liberated from all vice, in consequence of hastening to the [vision of the] good; and should ascend to the principle which is in herself, and become one instead of many things, in order that she may survey the principle ² of all things, and the one. Hence it is requisite, that the soul of him who ascends to the good should then become intellect, and that he should commit his soul to, and establish it in intellect, in order, that what intellect sees, his soul may vigilantly receive, and may through intellect survey the one; not employing any one of the senses, nor receiving any thing from them, but with a pure intellect, and with the summit [and as it were, flower] of intellect, beholding that which is most pure. When, therefore, he who applies himself to the survey of a thing of this kind, imagines that there is either magnitude, or figure, or bulk about this nature, he has not intellect for the leader of the vision; because intellect is not naturally adapted to perceive things of this kind, but such an energy is the energy of sense, and of opinion following sense. But in order to perceive the one, it is necessary to [receive from intellect a declaration of what intellect is able to accomplish. Intellect, however, is able to see either things prior to itself, or things pertaining to itself, or things effected by itself. And the things indeed contained in itself, are pure; but those prior to itself are still purer and more simple; or rather this must be asserted of that which is prior to it. Hence, that which is prior to it, is not intellect, but something more excellent. For intellect is a certain one among the number of beings; but that is not a certain one, but is prior to every thing. Nor is it being; for being has, as it were, the form of the one.³ But that is formless, and is even without intelligible form. For the nature of the one being generative of all things, is not any one of them. Neither, therefore, is it a certain thing, nor a quality, nor a quantity, nor intellect, nor soul, nor that which is moved, nor again that which stands still. Nor is it in place, or in time ; but is by itself uniform, or rather without form, being prior to all form, to motion and to permanency. For these subsist about being which also cause it to be multitudinous. Why, however, if it is not moved, does it not stand still ? Because it is necessary that one or both of these should subsist about being. And that which stands still, stands still through permanency, and is not the same with it. Hence permanency is accidental to it, and it no longer remains simple. For when we say that the one is the cause of all things, we do not predicate anything as an accident to it, but rather as something which happens to us, because we possess something from it, the one in the mean time subsisting in itself. It is necessary, however, when speaking accurately of the one, neither to call it that, nor this. But we running as it were externally round it, are desirous of explaining the manner in which we are affected about it. And at one time, indeed, we draw near to it, but at another time fall from it, by our doubts about it.