a promptitude, and converging sympathy ; from which disposition it is requisite to be purified. This, however , will be effected by admitting necessary 'pleasures , and the sensations of them , merely as remedies , or as a liberation from pain , in order that [the rational par C\ may not be impeded \in its energies .] Pain also must be taken away. But if this is not possible, it must be mildly diminished. And it will be diminished, if the soul is not copassive with it. Anger, likewise, must as much as possible be taken away ; and must by no means be premeditated. But if it cannot be entirely removed, deliberate choice must not be mingled with it, but the unpremeditated motion must be the impulse of the irrational part. That however which is unpremeditated is imbecile and small . All fear, likewise, must be expelled. For he who requires this purification, will fear nothing. Here, however, if it should take place, it will be unpremeditated. Anger therefore and fear must be used for the purpose of admonition. But the desire of every thing base must be exterminated. Such a one also, so far as he is a cathartic philosopher, will not desire meats and drinks. Neither must there be the unpremedi¬ tated in natural venereal connexions; but if this should take place , it must only be as far as to that precipitate imagination which energizes in sleep. In short, the intel¬ lectual soul itself of the purified man, must be liberated from all these [corporeal propensities.] He must like¬ wise endeavour that what is moved to the irrational nature
of corporeal passions, may be moved without sympathy, and without animadversion ; so that the motions them¬ selves may be immediately dissolved, through their vicinity to the reasoning power. This, however, will not take place while the purification is proceeding to its perfection ; but will happen to those in whom reason rules without opposition. Hence in these, the inferior part wall so venerate reason, that it will be indignant if it is at all moved, in consequence of not being quiet when its master is present, and will reprove itself for its imbecility. These, however, are yet only moderations of the passions, but at length terminate in apathy. For when co-passivity is entirely exterminated, then apathy is present with him who is purified from it. For passion becomes moved, when reason imparts excitation, through verging [to the irrational nature.”]
Page 13. The endeavour is not to he without sin, hut to be a God. Tiiat is, to be a God according to a simili¬ tude to divinity itself. For through this similitude, good men are also called by Plato Gods. Hence, too, Empe¬ docles says of himself,
“ Farewell, no mortal, but a God am IT
From this magnificent conception of human nature by the Pythagoreans and Plato, considered according to
its true condition, the iofty language of the Stoics about their wise man was doubtless derived. For they assert of him that he possesses continual hilarity, and sublime joy ; that he is blessed even in torments ; that he is without perturbation, because he is stable and remote from error; that he does not opine, because he does not assent to any thing false ; that nothing happens to him contrary to his expectation ; and that he is sufficient to himself, or is con¬ tented with himself alone, so far as pertains to living bless¬ edly, and not to merely living ; for to the latter many things are necessary, but to the former nothing is requisite but a sane and erect mind which looks down upon fortune with contempt. They farther add, that all things are the pro¬ perty of the wise man, and that he alone is to be con¬ sidered rich, because he uses all things in the way in which they ought to be used, and because he alone pos¬ sesses the virtues, which are more precious than all trea¬ sures. That he alone is free, but that all bad men are slaves : for he neither fears any thing, nor does any thing cause him to grieve, nor is he subservient to any subordi¬ nate nature. That he alone is a king ; for he governs both himself, and others. Hence Seneca, “ Are you wil¬ ling to have great honour, I will give you a great empire i obtain dominion over yourself.” And lastly they add, that the wise man is obnoxious to no injury. For, as Seneca says in his treatise .De Constantia Sapientis, u Fortune takes away nothing except that which she gave ; but she
does not give virtue, and therefore does not take it away. Virtue is free^ inviolable, unmoved, unshaken, and so hardened against casualties, that she cannot even be made to incline, mnch less can she be vanquished. Hence the wise man loses nothing of which he will perceive the loss ; for he is in the possession of virtue, from which he can never be driven, and he uses every thing else as something different from his proper good. If, therefore, an injury cannot hurt any of those things which are the property of a wise man, because they are safe through virtue, an injury cannot be done to a wise man.’’ And afterwards, speaking of Stilpo the philosopher, who on being asked by Demetrius whether he had lost any thing by the capture ot Megara, answered that he had lost nothing ; for, said he, all that is mine is with me ; and yet his patrimony was a part of the plunder, and the enemy had ravished his daughters, and conquered his country ; speaking of this very extraordinary man, he observes as follows. α Stilpo shook off victory from the conqueror, and testified that though the city was taken, he himself was not only un- conquered, but without loss ; for he had with him true goods, upon which no hand can be laid. Whatever may be dissipated and plundered, he did not consider as his own, but as a thing adventitious, and which follows the nod of fortune, and hence he did not love it as his proper good. It must therefore be admitted that this perfect man, who was full of human and divine virtues, lost
nothing. His goods were begirt with solid and insur¬ mountable fortifications. You must not compare with these the walls of Babylon, which Alexander entered ; nor the walls of Carthage or Numantia, which were captured by one hand ; nor the Capitol, or the citadel ; for these pos¬ sess an hostile vestige. But the walls which defend the wise man are safe from flames and incursion ; they afford no entrance, are unconquerable, and so lofty that they reach even to the Gods.” Agreeably to this, also, the great Socrates said with a magnanimity which has seldom been equalled, and never surpassed, εμε δε Ανυτος xu) Μελιτος αποχτε ivut μεν Ιυνανται, βλαψαι δε ου δννανταο
Anytus and Melitus may indeed put me to death, but they cannot injure me.”
These magnificent conceptions, and this elevated lan¬ guage arising from the cultivation of true virtue and wis¬ dom, were no longer to be found when the hand of bar¬ baric despotism abolished the schools of the philosophers. For then, as a necessary consequence, a night of ignorance succeeded, which is without a parallel in the history of any period ; and Philosoplnq accompanied by all the great virtues, retired from the Cimmerian darkness into the splendid and dignified solitude in which the Genius of antiquity resides.
Page 18. Dialectic. For the sake of the truly pbilo-
sophic reader who may not have my translation of Plato in his possession* the following additional observations on that master science* dialectic* are extracted from the 3d volume of that translation* and principally from the notes on the Parmenides.
The method of reasoning employed by the dialectic of Plato, was invented by the Eleatic Zeno the disciple of Parmenides, and is as follows : Two hypotheses being laid down, viz. if a thing is, and if it is not, each of these may be tripled, by considering in each what happens, what does not happen, what happens and at the same time does not happen ; so that six cases will be the result. But since* if a thing is, we may consider itself either with respect to itself, or itself with respect to others ; or we may consider others themselves with respect to them» selves, or others with respect to that thing itself, and so likewise if a thing is not : hence the whole of this process will consist of eight triads, which are the fol¬ lowing. 1 . If a thing is, what happens to itself with respect to itself, what does not happen, what hap¬ pens and at the same time does not happen. 2. If a
thing is, what happens to itself with respect to others,
what does not happen, what happens and at the same time
does not happen. 3. If a thing is, what happens to
others with respect to themselves, what does not happen,
what happens and at the same time does not happen. 4,
* Plot. % O
If a thing is, what happens to others with respect to that thing, what does not happen, w hat happens and at the same time does not happen. And the other four, which are founded on the hypothesis that a thing is not , are to be distributed in exactly the same manner as those we have just enumerated. Such (says Proclus in MS* Commen. in Parmenid.) is the whole form of the dialectic method, which is both intellectual and scientific ; and un¬ der which those four powers the definitive and divisive , the demonstrative and analytic , receive their consummate perfection.
The Parmenides of Plato gives a specimen of this method logically and synoptically ; comprehending in eight the above-mentioned four and twenty modes. Plato also adds, that the end of this exercise is the perception of truth. u We must not, therefore,” says Proclus, "con¬ sider him as simply speaking of scientific truth, but of that which is intelligible, or which, in other words, subsists according to a superessential characteristic. For the whole of our life is an exercise to the vision of this ; and the wandering through dialectic hastens to that as its port.
Hence Plato in a wonderful manner uses the word Bioips<r9at to look through: for souls obtain the vision of intelligibles through many media.1'
That the dialectic method, however, may become con¬ spicuous to the reader, the two following specimens of it
are subjoined from the above-mentioned admirable Com¬ mentary of Proclus. The first of these, is an investiga¬ tion of the four and twenty modes in providence. If then providence is, there will follow to itself with respect to itself, the beneficent, the infinitely powerful, the effi¬ cacious ; but there will not follow, the subversion of itself, the privation of counsel, the unwilling. That which fol¬ lows and does not follow is, that it is one and not one. There will follow to itself with respect to other things, to govern them, to preserve every thing, to possess the be¬ ginning and the end of all things, and to bound the whole of sensibies. That which does not follow is, to injure the objects of its providential care, to supply that which is contrary to expectation, to be the cause of disorder. There will follow and not follow, the being present to all things, and an exemption from them ; the knowing, and not knowing them. For it knows them in a different manner, and not with powers co-ordinate to the things known. There will follow to other things with respect to themselves, to suffer nothing casually from each other, and that nothing will be [really] injured by any thing. There will not follow, that any thing pertaining to them will be from fortune, and the being uncoordinated with each other. There will follow and not follow, that all things are good ; for this will partly pertain to them, and partly not. To other things with respect to it there will follow, to be sus¬ pended from it, on all sides to be guarded and benefited
by it* There will not follow, an opposition to it, and the possibility of escaping it. For there is nothing so small that it can be concealed from it, nor so elevated that it cannot be vanquished by it* There will follow and not follow, that every thing will participate of providence; For in one respect they partake of it, and in another not of it, but of the goods which are imparted to every thing from it.