SigPhi · Proclus

Elements of Theology

Page 9 of 47

Farther still, it may ^ kaid^ %fifere will h6 ^e venerableness of your Proc. VoL^L C Ill ON niE TlIBOLOGY BOOK It bMStod science aboot divine natures? For it is absuiKl to call these clog^ nms which are collected from many places Platonic; and which». as yoa aqkoowledge, are introduced from foreign names to the philosophy of Plato; nor are you able to evince one whole entire truth about divine na* l^nres. Perhaps, indeed, they will say, certain persons, junior to Plato^ have'di^ivered in their writings and left to th^r disciples, one perfect form of theology. You^ therefore^ are able to produce one entire theory about nature from the Timaeus; but from the Republic, or Laws, the most beautiful dogmas about manners, and which tend to one form of philosp* phy. Alone, therefore, neglecting the treatise of Plato^ which contains all the good of the first philosophy, and which nmy be called the summit «f the whole theory, you will be deprived of the most perfect knowledge of beings, unless you are so much infatuated, as to boast on account; of fabulous fictions, though an analysis of things of this kind abounds with much of the probable, but not of the demonstrative. Besides, things of tins kind are only delivered adventitiously in the Platonic dialogues; as the &ble in the Protagoras, which is inserted for the sake of the politic science, and the demonstrations respecting it. In like manner, the. fable in the Republic is inserted for the sake of j urtioe; but in the Gorgia^ for the saJce of temperance. Por Plato combines fabulous narratipns with investigations of ethical dogmas^ Bot for die sake of the fables, but for the sake of the leading design, that we may not only exeiicise the in* tellectual part of the soul, through contending reasons, but that the divine part of the soul may more perfectly receive the knowledge of beings^ through its sympathy with more mystic concerns. For, from other dis- courses, we appear similar to those who are compelled to the reception of truth; but from fables we suffer in an ineffable manner, and call forth our unperverted conceptions, venerating the mystic information which they contain.

Hence, as it appears to me, Timseus with great propriety thinks it fit that we should produce the divine genera^ followiog the inventors of fa- bles as the sons of the Gods,' and subscribe to their always generating secondary natures ftom such as are firsts though they should speak wiib«> out demonstration. For this kind of discourse is not demonfltrativ«y but entbeastic, and was indented by the ancients^ not through necessity, \fn% forthesake of persuasion, not regarding mere discipline, but sympatkj. with things themselves. But if you are willing to speculate not only tb^ causes of &bles, but of other theological dogmas, you will find that some of them are scattered in the Platonic dialogues for the sake of ethi.cal,' and others for the sake of physical considerations. For in the Philebus, Plato discourses concerning bound and the infinite, for the sake of pleasure an4 k life according to intellect. For I think the latter are species of the for^ mer. In the Ttma^us, the discourse about the intelligible Gods, is assum* 6d for the sake of the proposed physiology. On which account it is every where necessary that images should be known firom paradigms; blit Chat the paradigms of material things should be immaterial, of sea? sibles, intelligible, and that the paradigms of physical forms should be separate.

But again in the Phsedrus, Plato celebrates the supercelestial place, die subcelestial profundity, and every genus under this, for the sake of amatory mania: the manner in which the remmiscence of souls takes place, and the passage to these firom hence. But every where, as I may say, the leading end is either physical or political, while the conception about divine natures take place, either for the sake of invention or per» faction. How, therefore, can such a theory as yours be any longer venerable flind supernatural, and worthy to be studied beyond every thing, when it is neither able to evince the whole in itself, nor the perfect, nor that which is precedaneous in the writings of Plato, but is destitute of all these, is violent and not spontaneous, and does not possess a genuine, but an ad* ventitious otdety as in a drama? And such are the objections which may be urged against our design* ■ For piliMMirf k U neceM»7 to read, ra fMy ^iMv« ON Tim'EHBDI/>OY BOOK £ CHAPTER VIL It HOWEVER^ to an objection of this kind, shall make a just and per- spicuous reply. I say then, that Plato every where discourses about the Gods agreeably to ancient rumour, and to the nature of things. And sometimes indeed, for the sake of the cause of the things proposed, he reduces them to the principles of the dogmas; and thence, as from a iratch tower, contemplates the nature of the thing proposed. But some^ times he establishes the theological science as the leading end. For in the JPhaednis his subject respects intelligible beauty, and the participation of beauty pervading from thence through all things; and in the Banquet it: xespects the amatory order.

But if it be necessary to survey in one Platonic dialogue, the all-per-. ffect, whole, and connected, extending as far as to the compleat number of theology, I shall perhaps assert a paradox, and which will alone be. apparent to our familiars. We ought however to dare, since we b^ve entered on such like arguments, and affirm against our opponents, that, the Parmenides, and the mystic conceptions it contains, will accomplish lU you desire. For in this dialogue all the divine genera proceed in. order from the first cause, and evince their mutual connexion and de- pendence on each other. And those which are highest indeed, connate^ with the oncy and of a primary nature, are allotted aunical, occult and simple form of hypands; but such as are last, are multiplied, are dbtri-; buted into many parts, and are exuberant in number, but inferior, in power to such as are of a higher order; and such as are middle, accord- ing to a convenient proportion, are more composite than their causes, but more simple than their proper progeny. And in short, all the axioms of the theologic science, appear in perfection in this dialogue, and all the divine orders are exhibited subsisting in connexion. So that this is nothing else than the celebrated geaecatioii pf the Qods, and the procession of every kind of being from the inefiable and unknown cause of wholes. The Parmenides, therefore^ enkiB«ll6» m the lovers of Plato, the whole and perfect light of the theological science. But after this, the before men- tioned dialogues distribute parts of the mystic discipline about the Gods, CBAKVIII. • ornUTOi <|f and all of them, as I may say, participate of dinne msdom, and exdttt oor spontaaeous conceptians respecting a <iiiynie natiure. And it is iM^* cessary to refer all the parts of this mystic disciplme to these dialogves^ and these again to the one and all*per&ct theory x)f the iParmenides. For thus, as it appears to me, we shall suspend the more imperfect from the perfect, and parts from wholes, and shall exhibit imasons assimilated to tilings, of which, according to the Platx>nic Hmttns, -Ihey afe interpreters; Such then is Qur answer to the objection which may be urged a^inst us i and thus we refer the Platonic theory^ to the Pannettides; just as tike Umasus is acknowledged by all who are in the least degree isftdligent, to contain the whole science about nature.

CHAPTER VIII- CHAPTER VIII- I appear, however, by these means, to have excited for myself a two- fold contest against those who att^npt to investigate the writings <tf Plato; and I see two sorts of persons, who will (^pose what has been said. One of these does not think proper to explore any other design in the Parmenides, than exereise through opportte arguments, or to introduce in this dialogue a croud* of arcane and intdlectual dogmas, which are foieign from its intention. But the other sort, who are more venerable than these, and* lovers of forms^ assert, that one of thd hypotheses is about the' first God, another about the second God,- and the whole of an intdlec^^ tu^ nature, and a third,^ about thtf natures posterior to this, 'whether they are the more excdient geneiu, tor souls^ or arty other kind of beings. For the investigation of these pwticulars docs not pertain fo the present- discourse.

These, therefore, distribute three of the hypotheses after this manner. * But tliey do not think.proper to busy themselves about the multitude dT Gods, the itttdligible, and the ibtellectit^I genera, thesupemiundane and mundane natures, or to unfold all" these by division, or tmsiiy explore- It ON tHB THEOLOGY feOOK f.

tti^. Few accdrding to them, thoii^ Plato in the second Tiypdthesis, treats i^but intellectual beings, yet the nature df intellect is one; simple and indivisible.* Against both these therefore, must be contend, who ^itertains that opinion of the Pattnenides, which we haw before to'en- tionedw The contest however against these is not equal. But those who make the Pannenides a logical exercise, are again attacked by those* i(rho embrace the divine mode of interpretation. And those who do not U9fc^ the multitude of beings, and the orders of divine natures, are in- deed, as Homer says, in every respect venerable and skilful men, but yet for tht sake of the Platonic philosophy, we must doubt against them, following in this our leader to the most holy and mystic truth. It is ]iroper likewise to relate as far as contributes to our purpose, what ap- pears to us to be the truth respecting the hypotheses of the Parmenides;, £n thus perhaps by a reasoning process. We may embrace the whole the- rfogy of Plato.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER IX.

. In the first place then, let us consider those, who draw down thfi design of this dialogue from the truth of things to a logical exercise, and see whether they can possibly accord with the writings of Plato. It is liierefore evident to every one, that Pamienides proposes to himself to deliver in reality the dialectic method, and that with this view he curso- rily assumes it in a similar manner in each of the things which have a real being, as, in sameness, difference, similitude, dissimilitude, motion, and permanency, &c.; exhorting at the same time, those who desire to discover the nature df each of these in an orderly method, to this exercise, as to a great contest. He likewise asserts that it was by no means an easy undertaking to him who was so much advanced in years, assimilates him* sdf to the Ibycean horse, and presents us with every argument to prpve that this method is a serious undertaking, and not a eontest consisting in CHAP. IX. OF:WhXf!0; r mere words. How tberefore» n it pouiblei that we can sefer to onpty arguments those conceptions V about which the graat Parmeiudes^ eviiK ciog that they require mucli serioua. discussion, composed this discourse? How likewise is it reasonable to suppose that an aged man wcmld busy himself with mere verbal contests, and that he. who loved to speculate the truth of things, would bestow so much study on this metfaod,--he who considered every thing else, as having bq. real eiktence, and who ascended to the high watch-tower of being itself? Indeed, be whoaxU mits this must suppose that Parmenides is satiriaed by Plato- in this dia^ logue, by thus representing him drawn down to juvenile contests, from the most intellectual visions of the souL.

Butifyqu. are willing, let us consider in addition to the above, what Parmenides promts, and on what subject engaging to speak, he entertdi on thisdi^cusnon. Was it npt then, about being according to his doe» trine, and the unity of all beings, to which ^ extending himself, his design was concealed from the vulgar, while he exhorts us to collect the multi- tude of beings into one undivided union I If, therefore, this is the one being, or Uiat which is the highest, and which is perfectly established above the reasons conversant with opinion, is it not absurd to confound do^as about intdligibles with doxastic arguments? For indeed, sucb a form of discourse is not adapted to the hypothesis about true beings, nor dpes the intellection of unapparent and separate causes harmonize with, dialectip exercises; but these differ from each other, so far as inteUect is established above opinion, as Timaeus. informs us, and not Timieus only, but likewise the daemoniacal Aristotle, who, discoursing on a power of this kind, exhorts us to make our investigations, neither about things perfectly unapparent to us, nor about such as are more known.

It is far therefore from being the case, that Parmenides, who {daces the science of beings above that which appears to be truth to those who rank sense before intellect, should introduce doxastic knowledge to an intellective nature, since a knowledge of this kind is dubious, various, and unstable; or that he should speculate true being with this doxastic ■ For nmroXofi it 19 neceisary to ^fead nri/SeXAf.

24 ON TffE THBOLOGY II06K L wisdom, and inane diKittsion. f^or a Various form of knowledge does not barmbniae^ with liiat whieh h simple, nor the multiform with ttie uniform, nor the doxastic with the intelligible.

* But still further, nor must this be omitted, that such a mode of dis« cdurse is perfectly foreign from the discussion of Parqienides. For he discourses about all beiiigs, and ddivers the order of wholes, their pro- gression begioning fr6m the one, and their conversion ending in the one. But the airgumentative method is yery remote from scientific theory. Does it not therefore appear, that Plato must have attributed a discord-* ant hypothesis to Parmenides, if it be said tlmt he merely regards an exercise through opposite arguments, and that for the sake of the power employed in this exercise, be excites the whole of this evolution of rea- ions?. Indeed, it will be found that in all the other dialogues, Plato aitributes hypotheses to each of the philosophers adapted to their pecu* har tenets. Hius to Iteisfens, he assigns the doctrine aboot nature; to Socrates, that of a republic; to the Elean guest, that about being; and to the priestess Diotima, that respecting love. Afterwards, each of the odier dialogues txmfines itsdf to those arguments which are adapted to the writings of the principal person of the dialogue^ But Parmenides adobe will appear to us wise in his poenn, and in his diligent investigation of true being, but in the Platonic sce»ie, he will be the leader of a juvenile muse. This opinion, therefore, accuses Plato of dissimilitude of imitation, tibough he himself condemns the poets, for ascribiug to the sons ci the Gods a love of money, and a life subject to the dominion of the passions. How, tfaeiefore, can we refer a discussion of doxastic and empty arguments to the leader of the truth of beings?

But if it be necessary that omitting a multitude of arguments, we phould make Hato himself a witness of the proposed discussion, we will cite if you please what is written in the Tlieaetetus and Sophista; for from these dialogues what we assert will be apparent. In the Thesetetus then Socmtes being excited by a young man to a confutation of those who assert that being is immoveable, attacks among these an opinion of this kind ' For fbmy mffijm^m^ it it BtceMUty to xwd^ilfi «ittjpftb9noy* CHAP. IX. car PLATO. 25 entertaiood bj Parmawies^ and at the satM thae assignd the cause. " I bhishy' says he, ** for PftrmeDides, who is one of these, th6t6 than for all the rest; for I, wh«i veay young, vras conversant with him i^hen he was very elderty, and he appeared to me to possess a certain profiin- dky perfectly generotis. I am afraid therefore^ lest we do not under* stand what has been assarted, and much more am I fearful that we fell short of the meaning of Pannenides.^ With great propriety thereforfe Ab weasaai;, that the proposed discussion does not regard a logical exei'- ciMi and make this ihe end of the whole, but diat it pertains to the seieoce of tk^ first principles of things. For how could Socrates usidg k pQwer.of this kind^ and ne|^ecting the knowledge of things, testify that the discourse of Parmenides possessed a depth perfectly generous? And wh«t ¥enerableness can there be in adopting a method which pi'oceeds doiCftsticaUy through opposite reasons^ and in tindertaking such an inven« tie* of arguments?

i Again, in the Sopidsta, excitmg the Eiean guest to a perspiciious eVd- lutiaa of the things proposed by htm, and evindug that he was noW aQcusfccBBed to more profound discourses: *' Ii^orm me,'' i^ys he, *^ whbi- tbpr it is your custom to giveaprohx discussion of a subject which you arb able to demonstrate to any one by interrogations; I mean such discussions AS ' Pannenides himself formerly used, accompanied with all*beautiful reasoas, and of whidi J was an auditor when I was very young, and lik was.very dUerly?" What reason then can be assigned, why we should not believe Socrates, when he asserts that the arguments of Parmenides wene all^beautiful, and possessed a generous profundity, and why wq should degrade the discussion of Parmenides, hurl it from essence and beiBg, and transfer it to a vulgar, trifling, and eitopty contest, neither ccflisidering that discourses of this kind are alone adapted to youth, noir legarding the hypothesis of bfiing characteriaed by if Ae one, nor any thing else which opposes such an opinion?

But I likewise think it is proper that the authors of this hypothesis, should consider the powar of dialectic, such as it is exhibited by Socra* tes in the Republic; — ^how, as he says, it surrounds all disciplines like a defensive enclosure, and deyates those that use it, to the good itself^ and Proc. Vpx.L P i^ ON THE THEOLOGY B06fc t the first unities, purifies the eye of the soul, establishes it in true beings, and the one princi|)le of all things, and ends at last in that which is no longer hypothetical. For if the power of this dialectic is so great, and the end of this path so mighty, it is not proper to confound doxastic arguments, with a method of this kind. For the former regards the op]^ nions of men, but the latter is called garrulity by the vulgar. And the one is perfectly destitute of disci plinative science, but the other is the defen^ sive enclosure of such sciences, and the passage to it is through these^ Again, the doxastic method of reasomng has for its end ' the apparent, but the dialectic method endeavours to arrive at the one itself, always employing for this purpose steps of ascent, and at last, beautifully end$ in the nature of the good.

By no means therefore, is it fit that we should draw down to doxastic arguments, a method which is estaUished among the most accurate sci« ences. For the merely logical method which presides over the demons strative phantasy, is of a secondary nature, and is alone pleased with contentious discussiolis; but our dialectic, for the mo»t part, employs divisions and analyses as primary sciences, and as imitating the progres^^ sion of beings from the one^ and their conversion to it again. But it likewise sometimes uses definitions and demonstrations, and prior to these the definitive method, and the dividing method prior to this.^ Oa the contrary, the doxastic method is deprived of the incontrovertible reasoning of demonstration. Is it not, therefore, necessary that these powers must be separated from each other, and that the discussion of Parmenides, which employs our dialectic, must be free from the empty variety of mere argument^ and must, fabricate its reasonings with a view to being itself, and not to that which is appg^rent? And thus much may suffice in answer to those who reprobate our hypotheses. For if all this cannot convince them, we shall in vain endeavour to persuade thern^ and urge them to the speculation of things.

' TfAo; is omitted in the originaL GRiP. X. or PLATO. 3y CHAPTER X.

BiTT a greater and more difficult contest remains for me, against those lowers of the speculation. of beings, who look to the science of first causes, as the end proposed in the hypothesis of the Platonic Parmenides; and this contest we will accomplish, if jou please, by numerous and more known arguments.

And in the first place, we shall define what that is, about which awt discourse against Uiem will be employed; for this, I think, will render the mystic doctrine of Plato concerning divine natures, apparent in the highest degree. There are, therefore, nine hypotheses which are dis» cussed by Parmenides in this dialogue, as we have evinced in our com- mmitanes upon it. And the five precedaneous hypotheses suppose that the^ one has a subsistence, and through this hypothesis, that all beings, the mediums jof wholes, and the terminations of the progressions of things, may be supposed to subsist But the four hypotheses which follow these, introduce the one^ not having a subsistence, according to the exhortation of the dialectic method, show that by taking away the one^ all beings, and sudi things as have an apparent existence, must be entirely subvert- ed, and propose to themselves the confutation of this hypothesis. And some of the hypotheses evidently conclude every thing according to rea- son, but others (if I may be allowed the expression) perfectly evince things more impossible^ than impossibilities; which circumstance some prior to us perceiving, as it appears to me, necessarily to happen in these hypotheses, have considered it as deserving discussion,' in their treatises on this dialogue.

With respect to the first of the hypotheses therefore, almost all agree in asserting, that Plato through this celebrates the superessential princi- ple of wholes, as inefiable, unknown, and above all being. But all do not explain the hypothesis posterior to this after the same manner. For ^he ancient Platonists, and those who participated the philosophy of 28 ON THE THEOLOGY BOOK I.

PlotiDus assert that an intellectual nature presents itself to the view in this hypothesis, subsisting from the superessential principle of things, and endeavour to harmonize to the one and all-perfect power of intellect, such conclusions as are the result of this hypothesis. But that leader of Qurs to truth about the Gods, and con&bulator of Plato (that I may. me the language of Homer) who transferred what \ras inde&iite in the theory of the more ancient philosophers, to bound, and reduced the confiwioQ of the different orders to an intellectual distinction, in the writings whtcb he communicated to his associates; — this our leader, in his tr^Uise on the present subject, calls upon us to adopt a distinct division of the con- clusions, to transfer this division to the divine orders,^ and to harmonize the first and most simple of the things exhibited to the first of bdngs; but to adapt tbosei in the middle rank to middle natures, according to the order which they are allotted among beings; and such as are last and ijiultiform, to ultimate progressions. For the nature of being is not one, Sample, and indivisible; but as in s^isibles, the mighty heaven is one« yet it.coniprehends in itself a multitude of bodies; and the monad oon« Oectedly contains multitude, but in the multitude there is an order of progression;. and of sensibles, some are first, some miildle, and some last; and prior to these, in souls, from one soul a multitude of souls subsists, and of these, some are placed in an order near^, but others more remote firpm their wholeness, and others again fill up the medium of the ex- tremes; — in like manner, it is doubtless necessary that among perfectly true beings, such genera as are uniform and occult, should be establbhed in the. one and first cause of wholes, but that others should proceed juto all multitude, and a whole number, and that others should contain the bond of these, in a middle situation. It is likewise by no means proper to harmonize the peculiarities of first natures with such as are second, nor of those that possess a subject order, with such as are more unical, but it is requisite that among these, some should have powers difierent from othjers, and that there should be an order in this progression of true beings, and an unfolding of second from fijrst natures.