Introduction to the Philosophy and Writings of Plato - Thomas Taylor
As the world too, considered as one great comprehending whole, is called
by Plato a divine animal, so likewise every whole which it contains is a
world, possessing in the first place, a self-perfect unity; proceeding
from the ineffable, by which it becomes a god; in the second place, a
divine intellect; in the third place, a divine soul; and in the last
place, a deified body. Hence each of these wholes is the producing cause
of all the multitude which it contains, and on this account is said to be
a whole prior to parts; because, considered as possessing an eternal form
which holds all its parts together, and gives to the whole perpetuity of
subsistence, it is not indigent of such parts to the perfection of its
being. That these wholes which rank thus high in the universe are
animated, must follow by a geometrical necessity. For, as Theophrastus
well observes, wholes would possess less authority than parts, and things
eternal than such as are corruptible, if deprived of the possession
of soul.
And now having with venturous, yet unpresuming wing, ascended to the
ineffable principle of things, and standing with every eye closed in the
vestibules of the adytum, found that we could announce nothing concerning
him, but only indicate our doubts and disappointment, and having thence
descended to his occult and most venerable progeny, and passing through
the luminous world of ideas, holding fast by the golden chain of deity,
terminated our downward flight in the material universe, and its
undecaying wholes, let us stop awhile and contemplate the sublimity and
magnificence of the scene which this journey presents to our view. Here
then we see the vast empire of deity, an empire terminated upwards by a
principle so ineffable that all language is subverted about it, and
downwards, by the vast body of the world. Immediately subsisting after
this immense unknown we in the next place behold a mighty all-
comprehending one, which as being next to that which is in every
respect incomprehensible, possesses much of the ineffable and unknown.
From this principle of principles, in which all things casually subsist
absorbed in superessential light and involved in unfathomable depths, we
view a beauteous progeny of principles, all largely partaking of the
ineffable, all stamped with the occult characters of deity, all
possessing an over-flowing fullness of good. From these dazzling summits,
these ineffable blossoms, these divine propagations, we next see being,
life, intellect, soul, nature and body depending; monads suspended from
unities, deified natures proceeding from deities. Each of these monads
too, is the leader of a series which extends from itself to the last of
things, and which while it proceeds from, at the same time abides in, and
returns to its leader. And all these principles and all their progeny are
finally centred, and rooted by their summits in the first great all-
comprehending one. Thus all beings proceed from, and are comprehended
in the first being; all intellects emanate from one first intellect; all
souls from one first soul; all natures blossom from one first nature; and
all bodies proceed from the vital and luminous body of the world. And
lastly, all these great monads are comprehended in the first one, from
which both they and all their depending series are unfolded into light.
Hence this first one is truly the unity of unities, the monad of monads,
the principle of principles, the God of gods, one and all things, and yet
one prior to all.
Such, according to Plato, are the flights of the true philosopher, such
the August and magnificent scene which presents itself to his view. By
ascending these luminous heights, the spontaneous tendencies of the soul
to deity alone find the adequate object of their desire; investigation
here alone finally reposes, doubt expires in certainty, and knowledge
loses itself in the ineffable.
And here perhaps some grave objector, whose little soul is indeed acute,
but sees nothing with a vision healthy and sound, will say that all this
is very magnificent, but that it is soaring too high for man; that it is
merely the effect of spiritual pride; that no truths, either in morality
or theology, are of any importance which are not adapted to the level of
the meanest capacity; and that all that it is necessary for man to know
concerning either God or himself is so plain, that he that runs may read.
In answer to such like cant, for it is nothing more,--a cant produced by
the most profound ignorance, and frequently attended with the most
deplorable envy, I ask, is then the Delphic precept, KNOW THYSELF, a
trivial mandate? Can this be accomplished by every man? Or can any one
properly know himself without knowing the rank he holds in the scale of
being? And can this be effected without knowing what are the natures
which he surpasses, and what those are by which he is surpassed? And can
he know this without knowing as much of those natures as it is possible
for him to know? And will the objector be hardy enough to say that every
man is equal to this arduous task? That he who rushes from the forge, or
the mines, with a soul distorted, crushed and bruised by base mechanical
arts, and madly presumes to teach theology to a deluded audience, is
master of this sublime, this most important science? For my own part I
know of no truths which are thus obvious, thus accessible to every man,
but axioms, those self-evident principles of science which are
conspicuous by their own light, which are the spontaneous unperverted
conceptions of the soul, and to which he who does not assent deserves, as
Aristotle justly remarks, either pity or correction. In short, if this is
to be the criterion of all moral and theological knowledge, that it must
be immediately obvious to every man, that it is to be apprehended by the
most careless inspection, what occasion is there for seminaries of
learning? Education is ridiculous, the toil of investigation is idle. Let
us at once confine Wisdom in the dungeons of Folly, recall Ignorance from
her barbarous wilds, and close the gates of Science with
everlasting bars.
Having thus taken a general survey of the great world, and descended from
the intelligible to the sensible universe, let us still, adhering to that
golden chain which is bound round the summit of Olympus, and from which
all things are suspended, descend to the microcosm man. For man
comprehends in himself partially everything which the world contains
divinely and totally. Hence, according to Pluto, he is endued with an
intellect subsisting in energy, and a rational soul proceeding from the
same father and vivific goddess as were the causes of the intellect and
soul of the universe. He has likewise an ethereal vehicle analogous to
the heavens, and a terrestrial body, composed from the four elements, and
with which also it is coordinate.
With respect to his rational part, for in this the essence of man
consists, we have already shown that it is of a self-motive nature, and
that it subsists between intellect, which is immovable both in essence
and energy, and nature, which both moves and is moved. In consequence of
this middle subsistence, the mundane soul, from which all partial souls
are derived, is said by Plato in the Timaeus, to be a medium between that
which is indivisible and that which is divisible about bodies, i.e. the
mundane soul is a medium between the mundane intellect, and the whole of
that corporeal life which the world participates. In like manner, the
human soul is a medium between a daemoniacal intellect proximately,
established above our essence, which it also elevates and perfects, and
that corporeal life which is distributed about our body, and which is
the cause of its generation, nutrition and increase. This daemoniacal
intellect is called by Plato, in the Phaedrus, theoretic and, the
governor of the soul. The highest part therefore of the human soul is the
summit of the dianoetic power ([Greek: to akrotaton tes dianoias]), or
that power which reasons scientifically; and this summit is our intellect.
As, however, our very essence is characterized by reason, this our summit
is rational, and though it subsists in energy, yet it has a remitted union
with things themselves. Though too it energizes from itself, and contains
intelligibles in its essence, yet from its alliance to the discursive
nature of soul, and its inclination to that which is divisible, it falls
short of the perfection of an intellectual essence and energy profoundly
indivisible and united, and the intelligibles which it contains degenerate
from the transcendently fulged and self-luminous nature of first
intelligibles. Hence, in obtaining a perfectly indivisible knowledge, it
requires to be perfected by an intellect whose energy is ever vigilant
and unremitted; and it's intelligibles, that they may become perfect,
are indigent of the light which proceeds from separate intelligibles.
Aristotle, therefore, very properly compares the intelligibles of our
intellect to colors, because these require the splendour of the sun, and
denominates an intellect of this kind, intellect in capacity, both on
account of its subordination to an essential intellect, and because it is
from a separate intellect that it receives the full perfection of its
nature. The middle part of the rational soul is called by Plato, dianoia,
and is that power which, as we have already said, reasons scientifically,
deriving the principles of its reasoning, which are axioms from intellect.
And the extremity of the rational soul is opinion, which in his Sophista
he defines to be that power which knows the conclusion of dianoia. This
power also knows the universal in sensible particulars, as that every man
is a biped, but it knows only the oti, or that a thing is, but is ignorant
of the dioti, or why it is: knowledge of the latter kind being the province
of the dianoetic power.
And such is Plato's division of the rational part of our nature, which he
very justly considers as the true man; the essence of every thing
consisting in its most excellent part.
After this follows the irrational nature, the summit of which is the
phantasy, or that power which perceives every thing accompanied with
figure and interval; and on this account it may be called a figured
intelligence ([Greek: morphotike noesis]). This power, as Jamblichus
beautifully observes, groups upon, as it were, and fashions all the
powers of the soul; exciting in opinion the illuminations from the
senses, and fixing in that life which is extended with body, the
impressions which descend from intellect. Hence, slays Proclus, it folds
itself about the indivisibility of true intellect, conforms itself to all
formless species, and becomes perfectly every thing, from which the
dianoetic power and our indivisible reason consists. Hence too, it is all
things passively which intellect is impassively, and on this account
Aristotle calls it passive intellect. Under this subsist anger and
desire, the former resembling a raging lion, and the latter a many-headed
beast; and the whole is bounded by sense, which is nothing more than a
passive perception of things, and on this account is justly said by
Plato, to be rather passion than knowledge; since the former of these is
characterized by alertness, and the latter by energy.
Further still, in order that the union of the soul with this gross
terrestrial body may be effected in a becoming manner, two vehicles,
according to Plato, are necessary as media, one of which is ethereal, and
the other aerial, and of these, the ethereal vehicle is simple and
immaterial, but the aerial, simple and material; and this dense earthly
body is composite and material.
The soul thus subsisting as a medium between natures impartible
and such as are divided about bodies, it produces and constitutes the
latter of these; but establishes in itself the prior causes from which it
proceeds. Hence it previously receives, after the manner of an exemplar,
the natures to which it is prior as their cause; but it possesses through
participation, and as the blossoms of first natures, the causes of its
subsistence. Hence it contains in its essence immaterial forms of things
material, incorporeal of such as are corporeal, and extended of such as
are distinguished by interval. But it contains intelligibles after the
manner of an image, and receives partibly their impartible forms, such
as are uniform variously, and such as are immovable, according to a
self-motive condition. Soul therefore is all things, and is elegantly
said by Olympiodorus to be an omniform statue ([Greek: pammorphon
agalma]): for it contains such things as are first through participation,
but such as are posterior to its nature, after the manner of an exemplar.
As, too, it is always moved; and this always is not eternal, but
temporal, for that which is properly eternal, and such is intellect, is
perfectly stable, and has no transitive energies, hence it is necessary
that its motions should be periodic. For motion is a certain mutation
from some things into others. And beings are terminated by multitudes and
magnitudes. These therefore being terminated, there can neither be an
infinite mutation, according to a right line, nor can that which is
always moved proceed according to a finished progression. Hence that
which is always moved will proceed from the same to the same; and will
thus form a periodic motion. Hence, too, the human, and this also is true
of every mundane soul, uses periods and restitutions of its proper life.
For, in consequence of being measured by time, it energizes transitively,
and possesses a proper motion. But every thing which is moved perpetually
and participates of time, revolves periodically and proceeds from the
same to the same. And hence the soul, from possessing motion, and
energizing according to time, will both possess periods of motion and
restitutions to its pristine state.
Again, as the human soul, according to Plato, ranks among the number of
those souls that sometimes follow the mundane divinities, in consequence
of subsisting immediately after daemons and heroes, the perpetual
attendants of the gods, hence it possesses a power of descending
infinitely into generation, or the sublunary region, and of ascending
from generation to real being. For since it does not reside with divinity
through an infinite time, neither will it be conversant with bodies
through the whole succeeding time. For that which has no temporal
beginning, both according to Plato and Aristotle, cannot have an end; and
that which has no end, is necessarily without a beginning. It remains,
therefore, that every soul must perform periods, both of ascensions from
generation, and of descensions into generation; and that this will never
fail, through an infinite time.
From all this it follows that the soul, while an inhabitant of earth, is
in a fallen condition, an apostate from deity, an exile from the orb of
light. Hence Plato, in the 7th book of his Republic, considering our life
with reference to erudition and the want of it, assimilates us to men in
a subterranean cavern, who have been there confined from their childhood,
and so fettered by chains as to be only able to look before them to the
entrance of the cave which expands to the light, but incapable through
the chain of turning themselves round. He supposes too, that they have
the light of a fire burning far above and behind them; and that between
the fire and the fettered men, there is a road above, along which a low
wall is built. On this wall are seen men bearing utensils of every kind,
and statues in wood and stone of men and other animals. And of these men
some are speaking and others silent. With respect to the fettered men in
this cave, they see nothing of themselves or another, or of what is
carrying along, but the shadows formed by the fire falling on the
opposite part of tho cave. He supposes too, that the opposite part of
this prison has an echo; and that in consequence of this the fettered
men, when they hear any one speak, will imagine that it is nothing else
than the passing shadow.
Here, in the first place, as we have observed in the notes on that book,
the road above between the fire and the fettered men, indicates that
there is a certain ascent in the cave itself from a more abject to a more
elevated life. By this ascent, therefore Plato signifies the contemplation
of dianoetic objects in the mathematical disciplines. For as the shadows
in the cave correspond to the shadows of visible objects, and visible
objects are the immediate images of dianoetic forms, or those ideas which
the soul essentially participates, it is evident that the objects from
which these shadows are formed must correspond to such as are dianoetic.
It is requisite, therefore, that the dianoetic power exercising itself in
these, should draw forth the principles of these from their latent
retreats, and should contemplate them not in images, but as subsisting in
herself in impartible involution.
In the next place he says, "that the man who is to be led from the cave
will more easily see what the heavens contain, and the heavens
themselves, by looking in the night to the light of the stars, and the
moon, than by day looking on the sun, and the light of the sun." By this
he signifies the contemplation of intelligibles: for the stars and their
light are imitations of intelligibles, so far as all of them partake of
the form of the sun, in the same manner as intelligibles are
characterized by the nature of the good.
After the contemplation of these, and after the eye is accustomed through
these to the light, as it is requisite in the visible region to see the
sun himself in the last place, in like manner, according to Plato, the
idea of the good must be seen the last in the intelligible region. He,
likewise divinely adds, that it is scarcely to be seen; for we can only
be conjoined with it through the intelligible, in the vestibule of which
it is beheld by the ascending soul.
In short, the cold, according to Plato, can only be restored while on
earth to the divine likeness, which she abandoned by her descent, and be
able after death to reascend to the intelligible world, by the exercise
of the cathartic and theoretic virtues; the former purifying her from the
defilements of a mortal nature, and the latter elevating her to the
vision of true being: for thus, as Plato says in the Timaeus, "the soul
becoming sane and entire, will arrive at the form of her pristine habit."
The cathartic, however, must necessarily precede the theoretic virtues;
since it is impossible to survey truth while subject to the perturbation
and tumult of the passions. For the rational soul subsisting as a medium
between intellect and the irrational nature, can then only without
revulsion associate with the intellect prior to herself, when she becomes
pure from copassivity with inferior natures. By the cathartic virtues,
therefore, we become sane, in consequence of being liberated from the
passions as diseases; but we become entire by the reassumption of
intellect and science as of our proper parts; and this is effected by
contemplative truth. Plato also clearly teaches us that our apostacy from
better natures is only to be healed by a flight from hence, when he
defines in his Theaetetus philosophy to be a flight from terrestrial
evils: for he evinces by this that passions are connascent with mortals
alone. He likewise says in the same dialogue, "that neither can evil
be abolished, nor yet do they subsist with the gods, but that they
necessarily revolve about this terrene abode, and a mortal nature." For
those who are obnoxious to generation and corruption can also be affected
in a manner contrary to nature, which is the beginning of evils. But in
the same dialogue he subjoins the mode by which our flight from evil
is to be accomplished. "It is necessary," says he "to fly from hence
thither: but the flight is a similitude to divinity, as far as is
possible to man; and this similitude consists in becoming just and holy
in conjunction with intellectual prudence." For it is necessary that he
who wishes to run from evils, should in the first place turn away from a
mortal nature; since it is not possible for those who are mingled with it
to avoid being filled with its attendant evils. As therefore, through our
flight from divinity, and the defluction of those wings which elevate us
on high, we fell into this mortal abode, and thus became connected with
evils, so by abandoning passivity with a mortal nature, and by the
germination of the virtues, as of certain wings, we return to the abode
of pure and true good, and to the possession of divine felicity. For the
essence of many subsisting as a medium between daemoniacal natures, who
always have an intellectual knowledge of divinity, and those beings who
are never adapted by nature to understand him, it ascends to the former
and descends to the latter, through the possession and desertion of
intellect. For it becomes familiar both with the divine and brutal
likeness, through the amphibious condition of its nature.
When the soul therefore has recovered her pristine perfection in as great
a degree as is possible, while she is an inhabitant of earth by the
exercise of the cathartic and theoretic virtues, she returns after death,
as he says in the Timaeus, to her kindred star, from which she fell, and
enjoys a blessed life. Then, too, as he says in the Phaedrus, being
winged, she governs the world in conjunction with the gods. And this
indeed is the most beautiful end of her labors. This is what he calls in
the Phaedo, a great contest and a mighty hope. This is the most perfect
fruit of philosophy to familiarize and lead her back to things truly
beautiful, to liberate her from this terrene abode as from a certain
subterranean cavern of material life, elevate her to ethereal splendors,
and place her in the islands of the blessed.
From this account of the human soul, that most important Platonic dogma
necessarily follows, that our soul essentially contains all knowledge,
and that whatever knowledge she acquires in the present life, is in
reality nothing more than a recovery of what a he once possessed. This
recovery is very properly called by Plato reminiscence, not as being
attended with actual recollection in the present life, but as being an
actual repossession of what the soul had lost through her oblivious union
with the body. Alluding to this essential knowledge of the soul, which
discipline evocates from its dormant retreats, Plato says in the
Sophista, "that we know all things as in a dream, and are again ignorant
of them, according to vigilant perception." Hence too, as Proclus well
observes, it is evident that the soul does not collect her knowledge from
sensibles, nor from things partial and divisible discover the whole and
the one. For it is not proper to think that things which have in no
respect a real subsistence, should be the leading causes of knowledge to
the soul; and that things which oppose each other and are ambiguous,
should precede science which has a sameness of subsistence; nor that
things which are variously mutable, should be generative of reasons which
are established in unity; nor that things indefinite should be the causes
of definite intelligence. It is not fit, therefore, that the truth of
things eternal should be received from the many, nor the discrimination
of universals from sensibles, nor a judgment respecting what is good from
irrational natures; but it is requisite that the soul entering within
herself, should investigate herself the true and the good, and the
eternal reasons of things.
We have said that discipline awakens the dormant knowledge of
the soul; and Plato considered this as particularly effected by the
mathematical discipline. Hence, he asserts of theoretic arithmetic that
it imparts no small aid to our ascent to real being, and that it
liberates us from the wandering and ignorance about a sensible nature.
Geometry too is considered by him as most instrumental to the knowledge
of the good, when it is not pursued for the sake of practical purposes,
but as the means of ascent to an intelligible essence. Astronomy also is
useful for the purpose of investigating the fabricator of all things,
and contemplating as in most splendid images the ideal world, and its
ineffable cause. And lastly music, when properly studied, is subservient
to our ascent, viz. when from sensible we betake ourselves to the
contemplation of ideal and divine harmony. Unless, however, we thus
employ the mathematical discipline, the study of them is justly
considered by Plato as imperfect and useless, and of no worth. For as
the true end of man according to his philosophy is an assimilation to
divinity, in the greatest perfection of which human nature is capable,
whatever contributes to this is to be ardently pursued; but whatever has
a different tendency, however necessary it may be to the wants and
conveniences of the mere animal life, is comparatively little and vile.
Hence it necessary to pass rapidly from things visible and audible, to
those which are alone seen by the eye of intellect. For the mathematical
sciences, when properly studied, move the inherent knowledge of the soul;
awaken its intelligence; purify its dianoetic power; call forth its
essential forms from their dormant retreats; remove that oblivion and
ignorance which are congenial with our birth; and dissolve the bonds
arising from our union with an irrational nature. It is therefore
beautifully said by Plato in the 7th book of his Republic, "that the soul
through these disciplines has an organ purified and enlightened, which is
blinded and buried by studies of a different kind, an organ better worth
saving than ten thousand eyes, since truth becomes visible through this
alone."