o o
is the beginning indeed, because she originates from
thence ; but it is the end, because the good is there,
and because when the soul is situated there, she
becomes what she was before. For the good which
is here, and in sensible concerns, is a lapse, a flight,
and a defluxion of the wings of the soul. But that
the good is there, is indicated by the love which is
connascent with the soul ; conformably to which
Love is conjoined in marriage with souls, both in
writings and in fables.1 For since the soul is dif¬
ferent from God, but is derived from him, she
necessarily loves him, and when she is there she
has a celestial love ; but the love which she here
possesses is common and vulgar. For in the intel¬
ligible world the celestial Venus reigns ; but here
the popular Venus, : * who is as it were meretri-
* See my translation of the fable of Cupid and Psyche ; for to this fable Plotinus now evidently alludes.
τ The celestial Venus, says Proclus, (in Schol. MSS. in Cratylum), is supermundane, leads upwards to intelligible beauty, is the supplier of an unpolluted life, and separates from generation. But the Venus that proceeds from Dione,
Plot. 2 I
cions.1 Every soul also is a Venus. And this the
nativity of Venus, and Love who w7as born at the
same time with her, obscurely signify.2 The soul,
therefore, when in a condition conformable to
nature, loves God, wishing to be united to him,
being as it were the desire of a beautiful virgin to
be conjoined with a beautiful Love. When, how¬
ever, the soul descends into generation, then being
as it were deceived by [spurious] nuptials, and
associating herself with another and a mortal Love,
she becomes petulant and insolent through being
absent from her father. But when she again hates
governs all the co-ordinations in the celestial world and the earth, binds them to each other, and perfects their generative progressions, through a kindred conjunction. He likewise in¬ forms us, that this goddess proceeds from foam, according to Orpheus, as well as the more ancient [or celestial] Venus; and that both proceed from generative powers ; one from that of Heaven, but the other from that of Jupiter the Demiurgus. He adds, that by the sea (from which they rose) we must un¬ derstand an expanded and circumscribed life ; by its profun¬ dity, the universally-extended progression of such a life ; and by the foam, the greatest purity of nature, that which is full of prolific light and power, that which swims upon all life, and is as it were its highest flower.
1 Plotinus says this, looking to the illegitimate participa¬ tions of this Venus by mankind.
a See the speech of Diotima in the Banquet of Plato.
terrene wantonness and injustice, and becomes
purified from the defilements which are here, and
again returns to her father, then she is affected in
the most felicitous manner. And those indeed
w ho are ignorant of this affection, may from terrene
love form some conjecture of divine love, by consi¬
dering how great a felicity the possession of a most
beloved object is conceived to be ; and also by
considering that these earthly objects of love are
mortal and noxious, that the love of them is nothing
more than the love of images, and that they lose
their attractive power because they are not truly
desirable, nor our real good, nor that which we
investigate. In the intelligible world, however, the
true object of love is to be found, with which we
may be conjoined, which we may participate, and
truly possess, and which is not externally enveloped
with flesh. He however who knows this , will know
what I say , and will be convinced that the soul
has then another life. The soul also proceeding
to, and having now arrived at the desired end, and
participating of deity, will know that the supplier
of true life is then present. She will likewise then
require nothing farther ; for on the contrary, it will
be requisite to lay aside other things, to stop in
this alone, and to become this alone, amputating
every thing else with which she is surrounded.
Hence, it is necessary to hasten our departure
from hence, and to be indignant that we are bound
in one part of our nature, in order that with the
whole of our [true] selves, we may fold ourselves
about divinity, and have no part void of contact
with him. When this takes place therefore, the
soul will both see divinity and herself, as far as it
is lawful for her to see him. And she will see her¬
self indeed illuminated, and full of intelligible light ;
or rather, she will perceive herself to be a pure
light, unburthened, agile, and becoming to be a
God, or rather being a God, and then shining
forth as such to the view.1 But if she again be¬
comes heavy, she then as it were wastes away.
* Hence Aristotle in his Politics also says, that he who sur¬ passes beyond all comparison the rest of his fellow-citizens in virtue, ought to be considered as a God among men. He also observes, that such a one is no longer a part of the city, that law is not for him, since he is a law to himself, and that it would be ridiculous in any one to subject him to the laws. Let no one, however, who Js not thus transcendently virtuous, fancy that law also is not for him ; for this fancy in such a one is not only idle, but if not suppressed may lead to sedition, and the destruction of himself and others. In short, the man who has not completely subdued his passions, is so far from
X. How does it happen, therefore, that the
soul does not abide there ? Is it not because she
has not yet wholly migrated from hence ? But she
will then, when her vision of deity possesses an
uninterrupted continuity, and she is no longer im¬
peded or disturbed in her intuition by the body.
That however which sees divinity, is not the thing
which is disturbed, but something else ; when that
which perceives him is at rest from the vision.
But it is not then at rest according to a scientific
energy, which consists in demonstrations, in credi¬
bilities, and a discursive process of the soul. For
here vision, and that which sees, are no longer
reason, but greater than and prior to reason. And
in reason, indeed, they are as that is which is per¬
ceived. He therefore who sees himself, will then,
when he sees, behold himself to be such a thing as
this, or rather he will be present with himself thus
disposed, and becoming simple, will perceive him¬
self to be a thing of this kind. Perhaps, however,
being above law, that, as Proclus well observes, “ the universe uses him as a brute." Observe, too, that when Plotinus calls the man who is able in this life to see divinity a God, he means that he is a God only according to similitude ; for in this way, men transcendently wise and good are called by Plato, Gods and divine.
neither must it be said that he sees, but that he is
the thing seen ; if it is necessary to call these two
things, i. e. the perceiver and the thing perceived.
But both are one ; 1 though it is bold to assert this.
Then, indeed, the soul neither sees, nor distin¬
guishes by seeing, nor imagines that there are two
things ; but becomes as it were another thing, and
not itself. Nor does that which pertains to itself
contribute any thing there. But becoming wholly
absorbed in deity, she is one, conjoining as it were
centre with centre. For here concurring, they are
one ; but they are then two when they are separate.
For thus also we now denominate that which is
another. Hence this spectacle is a thing difficult
to explain by words. For how can any one nar¬
rate that as something different, from himself,
which when he sees he does not behold as dif¬
ferent, but as one with himself?
XI. This, therefore, is manifested by the man¬
date of the mysteries, which orders that they shall
not be divulged to those who are uninitiated. For
as that which is divine cannot be unfolded to the
1 From the conclusion of this section, it is evident that in¬ stead of αλλα μη , in this place, we should read αλλα μην .
multitude, this mandate forbids the attempt to elucidate it to any one but him who is fortunately
able to perceive it. Since, therefore, [in this con-
junction with deity] there were not two things, but
the perceiver was one with the thing perceived, as
not being [properly speaking] vision but union;
whoever becomes one by mingling with deity, and
afterwards recollects this union, will have with
himself an image of it. But he was also himself
one, having with respect to himself no difference,
nor with respect to other things. For then there
was not any thing excited with him who had
ascended thither ; neither anger, nor the desire of
any thing else, nor reason, nor a certain intellec¬
tual perception, nor, in short, was even he himself
moved, if it be requisite also to assert this ; but
being as it were in an ecstacy, or energizing enthu¬
siastically, he became established in quiet and soli¬
tary union, not at all deviating from his own
essence, nor revolving about himself, but being en¬
tirely stable, and becoming as it were stability
itself. Neither was he then excited by any thing
beautiful ; but running above the beautiful, he
passed beyond even the choir of the virtues. Just
as if some one having entered into the interior of
the adytum should leave behind all the statues m
the temple, which on his departure from the adytum
will first present themselves to his view, after the
inward spectacle, and the association that was
there, which was not with a statue or an image,
but with the thing itself [which the images repre¬
sent], and which necessarily become the second
objects of his perception. Perhaps, however, this
was not a spectacle, but there was another mode
of vision, viz. ecstacy, and an expansion and acces¬
sion of himself, a desire of contact, rest, and a
striving after conjunction, in order to behold what
the adytum contains. But nothing will be present
with him who beholds in any other way. The
wise prophets, therefore, obscurely signified by
these imitations how this [highest] God is seen.
But the wise priest understanding the enigma, and
having entered into the adytum, obtains a true
vision of what is there. If, however, he has not
entered, he will conceive this adytum to be a cer¬
tain invisible thing, and will have a knowledge of
the fountain and principle, as the principle of
things. But when situated there, he will see the
principle, and will be conjoined with it, by a union
of like with like, neglecting nothing divine which
the soul is able to possess. Prior to the vision
also it requires that which remains from the vision·
But that which remains to him who passes beyond
all things, is that which is prior to all things. For
the nattlfe of the soul will never accede to that
which is entirely non-being. But proceeding in¬
deed downwards it will fall into evil ; and thus into
non-being, yet not into that which is perfect non¬
entity. Running, however, in a contrary direction,
it will arrive not at another thing, but at itself.
And thus not being in another thing, it is not on
that account in nothing, but is in itself. To be in
itself alone, however , and not in being , is to be in
God . For God also is something which is not
essence, but beyond essence. Hence the soul
when in this condition associates with him. He,
therefore, who perceives himself to associate with
God, will have himself the similitude of him. And
if he passes from himself as an image to the arche¬
type, he will then have the end of his progression.
But when he falls from the vision of God, if he
again excites the virtue which is in himself, and
perceives himself to be perfectly adorned ; he will
again be elevated through virtue, proceeding to in¬
tellect and wisdom, and afterwards to the principle
of all things. This, therefore, is the life of the
Gods , and of divine and happy men, a liberation
from all terrene concerns, a life unaccompanied
with human pleasures, and a flight of the alone to
the alone P