1 Instead of το δη ττρο τον εν τοι$ ου δ' τιμιωτατον here, it is necessary to read το δη ττρο τον cv rois ονσιν τιμιωτατον*
something prior to intellect, which wishes indeed to
be one, yet is not one, but has the form of one, be-6
cause intellect is not in itself dispersed, but is truly
present with itself, and does not, in consequence of
its proximity to the one , divulse itself, though in a
certain respect it dares to depart from the one
that, I say, which is prior to intellect and is the oney
is a prodigy, and is not being, lest here also the one
should be predicated of another thing, to wffiich no
name is in reality adapted. But if it is necessary
to give it a name, it may appropriately be called in
common one} yet not as being first something else*
and afterwards one. It is indeed on this account
difficult to be known ; but is principally to be
known from its offspring essence. And intellect
leads to essence. The nature also of the one is
such, that it is the fountain of the most excellent
things, and a power generating beings, abiding in
itself without diminution, and not subsisting in its
progeny. But we denominate it the one from ne^
cessity, in order that we may signify it to each other
by a name, and may be led to an impartible con¬
ception, being anxious that our soul may be one.®
* Instead of και την ^ν^ην ev ου OeXovres in this place, it is requisite to read και την ψνχην ev eivat OeXovres*
We do not, however, here speak of the one and the
impartible in such a way as when we speak of a
point or the monad. For that which is after this
manner one, is the principle of quantity, which
could not subsist unless essence had a prior exist¬
ence, and also that which is antecedent to essence*
It is necessary therefore to project the dianoetic
power to these ; but we should consider the monad
and a point as having an analogical similitude to
the one , on account of their simplicity, and their
dying from multitude and division,
VI. How, therefore, can we speak of the onef
and how can we adapt it to intellectual concep¬
tion ? Shall we say that this may be accomplished,
by admitting that it is more transcendently one
than the monad and a point? For in these, in¬
deed, the soul taking away magnitude and the
multitude of number, ends in that which is smallest,
and fixes itself in a certain thing which is indeed
impartible, but which was in a partible nature, and
is in something different from itself. But the one
is neither in another thing, nor in that which is
partible. Nor is it impartible in the same way as
that which is smallest. For it is the greatest of all
things, not in magnitude, but in power. So that it
is without magnitude in power. For the natures
also which are [immediately] posterior to it, are im¬
partible in powers, and not in bulk. The prin¬
ciple of all things likewise must be admitted to be
infinite, not because he is magnitude or number
which cannot be passed over, but because the
power of him is incomprehensible.1 For when you
conceive him to be intellect or God, lie is more
[excellent] than these. And again, when by the
dianoetic power you equalize him with the o)ie, or
conceive him to be God, by recurring to that which
is most united in your intellectual perception, he
even transcends these appellations. For he is in
himself, nor is any thing accidental to him. By
that which is sufficient to itself also the unity of
his nature may be demonstrated. For it is neces¬
sary that the principle of all things should be most
sufficient both to other things, and to itself, and
that it should also be most un-indigent. But every
thing which is multitudinous and not one, is indi¬
gent ; since consisting of many things it is not one.
Hence the essence of it requires to be one. But
5 For περϊΧηπτφ here, it is necessary to read αχ€ριληπτφ<
4 he one is not in want of itself. For it is the one .
Moreover, that which is many, is in want of a£
many things as it is. And each of the things that
are in it, as it subsists in conjunction with others,
and is not in itself, is indigent of other things ; and
thus a thing of this kind exhibits indigence, both
according to parts and according to the whole. If,
therefore, it is necessary there should be something
which is most sufficient to itself, it is necessary
there should be the one , which alone is a thing of
such a kind, as neither to be indigent with reference
to itself, nor with reference to another thing.® For
it does not seek after any thing in order that it may
be, nor in order that it may be in an excellent con¬
dition, nor that it may be there established. For
being the cause of existence to other things, and
1 As, however, a thing cannot be said to be a principle or cause without the subsistence of the things of which it is the principle or cause; hence the one , so far as it is a principle or cause, will be indigent of the subsistence of these. “ Indeed,” as Damascius says, “ how is it possible it should not be indigent so far as it is the one ? Just as it is all other things which proceed from it. For the indigent also is something belonging to all things.” Hence there is something even beyond the one , which has no kind of indigence whatever, which is in every respect incapable of being apprehended, and about which we must be perfectly silent. See the Introduction to my Plato, .and jthe additional notes to the 3rd Volume of it.
not deriving that which it is from others, nor its
happiness, what addition can be made to it exter¬
nal to itself? Hence its happiness, or the excel¬
lency of its condition, is not accidental to it. For
it is itself [all that is sufficient to itself]. There is
not likewise any place for it. For it is not in want
of a foundation, as if it w ere not able to sustain
itself. For that which is established in another
thing is inanimate, and a falling mass, if it is with¬
out a foundation. But other tilings are established
on account of the one , through w hich also they at
the same time subsist, and have the place in which
they are arranged. That, however, which seeks
after place is indigent. But the principle is not
indigent of things posterior to itself. The princi¬
ple, therefore, of all things is unindigent of all
things. For that which is indigent, is indigent in
consequence of aspiring after its principle. But if
the one was indigent of any thing, it would cer¬
tainly seek not to be the one ; so that it would be
indigent of its destroyer. Every thing, however,
w hich is said to be indigent, is indigent of a good
condition, and of that which preserves it. Hence
to the one nothing is good, and, therefore, neither is
the wish for any thing good to it. But it is super -
good . And it is not good to itself, but to other
things, which are able to participate of it. Nor
does ihe one possess intelligence, lest it should also
possess difference ; nor motion. For it is prior to
motion, and prior to intelligence. For what is
there which it will intellectually perceive ? Shall
we say itself? Prior to intellection, therefore, it
will be ignorant, and will be in want of intelligence
in order that it may know itself, though it is suffi¬
cient to itself. It does not follow, however, that
because the one does not know itself, and does not
intellectually perceive itself, there will be ignorance
in it. For ignorance takes place where there is
diversity, and when one thing is ignorant of another.
That, however, which is alone neither knows anv
thing, nor has any thing of which it is ignorant.
But being one, and associating with itself, it docs
not require the intellectual perception of itself,"
since neither is it necessary, in order that you may
preserve the one , to adapt to it an association with
itself. But it is requisite to take away intellectual
perception, an association with itself, and the
knowledge of itself, and of other things. For it is
not proper to arrange it according to the act of
perceiving intellectually, but rather according to
intelligence. For intelligence does not perceive
intellectually, but is the cause of intellectual per*
ception to another thing. Cause, however, is not
the same with the thing caused. But the cause of
all things is not any one of them. Hence neither
must it be denominated that good which it imparts
to others ; but it is after another manner the good ,
in a way transcending other goods.
VII. If, however, because it is none of these
things, you become indefinite in your decision, in
this case establish yourself in the abovementioned
particulars, and from these [ascend to] and fix your¬
self in God. But for this purpose you must not
extend the dianoetic power outwardly. For God
is not in a certain place, so as to desert other
things ; but wherever any thing is able to come into
contact with him, there he is present. Hence, as
in other things, it is not possible to perceive some¬
thing intellectually, while understanding and attend¬
ing to another thing, but it is necessary not to in¬
troduce any thing else to the object of intellectual
vision, in order that the perceiver may be the
thing itself which is perceived ; — thus also here, it
is not possible for the soul to perceive God, while
it retains the impression of something else, and
energizes according to that impression. Nor
again, is it possible for the soul w hile occupied and
detained by other things to be impressed with the
form of something contrary to them. But as it is
said of matter, that it ought to be void of all quali¬
ties, in order that it may receive the impressions of
all things ; thus also, and in a much greater degree,
it is necessary that the soul should become form¬
less, in order that there may be no impediment to
its being filled and illuminated by the first principle
of things. If, however, this be the case, it is re¬
quisite that the soul, dismissing all externals, should
be entirely converted to its inmost recesses, and
should not be called to any thing external, but
should be unintellective of all things ; and prior to
this indeed, in inclination, but then also it should
be without the perception of forms. It is likewise
necessary that the soul, being ignorant of herself,
should dwell on the contemplation of God, and
associating, and as it were sufficiently conversing
with him, should announce, if possible, the confer*?
ence which it there held to another ; which Minos
perhaps having accomplished, was on this account
&aid to be the familiar of Jupiter. Calling to
mind also this conference, he established laws
which were the images of it, being filled through
the contact with divinity with materials for the
institution of law s. Or may we not say that the
soul, if she washes to abide on high, will consider
political concerns as unworthy to be the subject of
conference with deity ? For this indeed will be
the language of him who has seen much of divinity.
For, as it is said , God is not external to any one ,
but is present with all things , though they are
ignorant that he is so. For they fly from him, or
rather from themselves. They are unable, there¬
fore, to apprehend that from wdfich they fly. And
having destroyed themselves, they are incapable of
seeking after another. For neither will a child,
when through insanity he becomes out of himself,
recognize his father. But he who knows himself,
w ill also know from whence he was derived*
VXIL If, therefore, a certain soul has known
itself at another time, it wdll also know that its
motion is not rectilinear, but that its natural motion
is as it w?ere in a circle about a certain thing, not
externally, but about a centre. The centre, how¬
ever, is that from which the circle proceeds ; and
therefore such a soul will be moved about the
source of its existence. It will also be suspended
from this, eagerly urging itself towards that to
which all soujs ought to hasten. But the souls of
the Gods always tend thither ; and by tending to
this they are Gods. For whatever is conjoined to
this is a God. But that which is very distant from
it, is a multitudinous man and a brute. Is, there¬
fore, that in the soul wdiich is as it were a centre,
the object of investigation ? Or is it necessary to
think that it is something else, in which as it were
all centres concur ? This centre, however, and this
circle are assumed by us according to analogy,
For the soul is not a circle in the same way as a
figure ; hut because an ancient nature is in it and
about it. And because the soul is suspended from
a thing of this kind, and in a still greater degree
when it is wholly separated from the body. Now,
however, since a part of us is detained by the body ;
just as if some one should have his feet in the
water, hut with the rest of his body should be above
it ;■ — thus also being elevated by that part which is
not merged in body, we are conjoined to that
which is as it wjere the centre of all things ; after
the same manner as we fix the centres of the
greatest circles in the centre of the sphere by which
they are comprehended. If, therefore, the circles
were corporeal and not psychical, they would be
conjoined to the centre locally, and the centre
being situated in a certain place, the circles would
revolve about it. Since, however, these souls are
themselves intelligible, and this centre is above in¬
tellect, it must be admitted that this contact is
effected by other powers than those by which an
intellective nature is adapted to be conjoined to the
object of intellectual perception. The contact,
also, is greater than that by which intellect is pre¬
sent [with the intelligible] through similitude and
sameness, and is conjoined with a kindred nature,
nothing intervening to separate the conjunction.
For bodies, indeed, are prevented from being united
to each other ; but incorporeal natures are not
separated from each other by bodies. Hence, one
is not distant from the other by place, but by other¬
ness and difference. When, therefore, difference
is not present, then the natures which are not dif¬
ferent are present with each other. The principle
of all things, therefore, not having any difference, is
always present ; but we are present with it when
we have no difference. And it indeed does not
aspire after us, in order that it may be conversant
with us ; but we aspire after it, in order that we
may revolve about it. We indeed perpetually re¬
volve about it, but we do not always behold it0
As a band of singers, however, though it moves
about the coryphaeus, may be diverted to the sur¬
vey of something foreign to the choir, [and thus
become discordant], but when it converts itself to
him, sings well, and truly subsists about him ; —
thus also we perpetually revolve about the prin¬
ciple of all things, even when we are perfectly
loosened from it, and have no longer a knowledge
of it. Nor do we always look to it ; but when we
behold it, then we obtain the end of our wishes,
and rest [from our search after felicity]. Then
also we are no longer discordant, but form a truly
divine dance about it.
IX. In this dance, however, the soul beholds
the fountain of life, the fountain of intellect, the
principle of being, the cause of good, and the root
of soul. And these are not poured forth from this
fountain, so as to produce in it any diminution.
For it is not a corporeal mass ; since if it were, its
progeny would be corruptible* But now they are
perpetual, because the principle of them abides
with invariable sameness ; not being distributed
into them, but remaining whole and entire® Hence*
they likewise remain, just as if the sun being
permanent, light also should be permanent. For
we are not cut off from this fountain, nor are we
separated from it, though the nature of body inter¬
vening, draws us to itself. But we are animated
and preserved by an infusion from thence, this
principle not imparting, and afterwards withdraw¬
ing itself from us ; since it always supplies us with
being, and always will as long as it continues to be
that which it is. Or rather, we are what we are
by verging to it. Our well-being also consists in
this tendency. And to be distant from it is nothing
else than a diminution of existence. Here, like¬
wise, the soul rests, and becomes out of the reach
of evils, running back to that place which is free
from ill. And here also, she energizes intellec¬
tually, is liberated from perturbations, and lives in
reality. For the present life, and which is without
God, is a vestige of life, and an imitation of that life
which is real. But the life in the intelligible world
consists in the energy of intellect. Energy also
generates Gods, through a tranquil and quiet £on-
tact with the principle of all things. It likewise
generates beauty, justice, and virtue. For the soul
being filled with deity, brings forth these. And
this is both the beginning; and end to the soul. It