will doubtless be uniform. But that which through one cause of life is immortal, is also similarly indissoluble. For life is the bond of dissoluble natures; which also Timæus indicating to us, opposes the dissoluble to the immortal: “for you are not immortal, says the demiurgus, yet you shall never be dissolved, nor be subject[132] to the fatality of death.” Every thing mortal, therefore, is dissoluble; but the immortal is indissoluble. That, however, which has a renovated immortality is for the same reason neither indissoluble, nor mortal.
For being in the middle of both it is neither of the extremes, according to each opposition. But the third of these being established according to the plenitude of whole intelligibles subsists at once and is invariably the same. For the intelligible is the cause of sameness and of eternal permanency; and intellect through this is entirely eternal. These triads, therefore, proceed from the first and most principal causes, in the same manner as we demonstrated of the before-mentioned triads. But these things, indeed, we shall consider hereafter.
These things, therefore, being discussed, let us direct our attention to the unbegotten in divine natures, and unfold what we assert it to be. For we say that all [true] being is without generation, and Socrates demonstrates in the Phædrus, that souls are unbegotten. Prior to these, also, the Gods themselves are established above generations and a subsistence according to time. How, therefore, shall we define the unbegotten when applied to a divine nature, and according to what reason? Is it because divinity is exempt from all generation, not only from that which subsists in the parts of time, such as we assert the generation of material natures to be, nor from that only which is extended into the whole of time, such as Timæus demonstrates the generation of the celestial bodies to be, but also from the psychical generation? Since Timæus denominates this to be unbegotten according to time, but to be the best of generated natures. And in short, a divine nature is exempt from all division and essential separation. For the progression of the Gods is always according to a union of secondary natures, which are uniformly established in the natures prior to them, the things producing containing in themselves the things produced. The indivisible, therefore, the unseparated and the united are in reality unbegotten. So that if certain generations of the Gods are spoken of by Plato in fabulous figments, as in the fable of Diotima, the generation of Venus is celebrated, and of Love at the birth of Venus, it is necessary not to be ignorant after what manner things of this kind are asserted, and that they are composed for the sake of symbolical indication; and that fables for the sake of concealment call the ineffable unfolding into light through causes, _generation_. For in the Orphic writings, indeed, the first cause is on this account denominated Time; since again, for another reason, it is thus denominated, in order that a subsistence according to cause may be the same as a subsistence according to time. And the progression of the Gods from the best of causes is properly denominated generation according to time. To Plato, therefore, mythologizing, it is adapted to devise things of this kind conformably to theologists; but when he is discoursing dialectically, and investigating and unfolding divine natures intellectually and not mystically, it is then adapted to him to celebrate the unbegotten essence of the Gods. For the Gods primarily establish in themselves the paradigm of non-generation. But an intellectual nature is in a secondary degree unbegotten, and after this the psychical essence. And in bodies there is an ultimate resemblance of unbegotten power; which some posterior to Plato perceiving, have indefinitely shown that the whole heaven is unbegotten. The Gods, therefore, are unbegotten. But there is an order in them of first, middle, and last progressions, and a transcendency and subjection of powers. There are also in them uniform comprehensions of causes; but multiform progenies of things caused. And all things, indeed, are consubsistent in each other; but the mode of subsistence is various.
For some things as replenishing subsist prior to secondary natures; but others, as being filled aspire after more perfect natures, and participating of their power become generative of things posterior to themselves, and perfective of their hyparxis.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Looking to these things, therefore, we may unfold what is said of paternal causes, and of the prolific powers of mothers in fables. For every where, we may suppose that the cause of a more excellent and more uniform nature is paternal;[133] but we may say that the cause of a more subordinate and partial nature preexists in the order of a mother. For with the Gods a father is analogous to the monad, and the cause of bound; but a mother, to the duad, and to the infinite power which is generative of beings. The paternal cause, however, is with Plato uniform, and is established in a more elevated order than the natures which proceed from it, and subsists prior to its progeny in the allotment of the desirable. Again, the maternal cause has the form of the duad; and at one time presents itself to the view in fables as more excellent than its progeny, but at another time as essentially subordinate to it; as in the Banquet, Plato calls Poverty the mother of Love. And this is not only the case in fabulous figments, but also in the philosophic theory of beings, as is evident in the Timæus. For there Plato calls being the father, but matter the mother and nurse of generation. The powers, therefore, which are prolific and perfective of secondary natures, and the suppliers of life and causes of separation are mothers, being established above the natures produced by them. But the powers which receive the natures that proceed into light, which multiply their energies, and extend even the subordinate allotment of the progeny, are also themselves called mothers. Again, however, the progeny of such like causes, at one time indeed, proceed according to union from their proper principles, and are filled from both the paternal and maternal cause; but at another time they contain the bond of them, being arranged in the middle, conveying the gifts of the fathers to the maternal bosoms, and converting the receptacles of them to the completions of primary causes. But of the natures which subsist from twofold preexisting principles, some are assimilated to the paternal cause; and such like genera of Gods are productive, defensive, and comprehensive. For to produce, to contain, and to defend, pertain to the cause of bound. But others are assimilated to the maternal cause, and are prolific, and vivific, and the suppliers of motion, of the multiplication of powers, of variety and progressions. For all these are the progeny of infinity and the first multitude.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Thus much therefore may suffice concerning the unbegotten hyparxis of the Gods. It now remains, I think, to speak of divine names. For Socrates in the Cratylus thinks fit to unfold in a remarkable degree the rectitude of names in divine natures. And Parmenides indeed, in the first hypothesis, as he denies of _the one_ every thing else that is known, and all knowledge, so likewise he denies of it name and language. But in the second hypothesis, besides all other things he shows that this one may be spoken of and[134] that it has a name. In short therefore, it must be admitted that the first, most principal and truly divine names are established in the Gods themselves. But it must be said that the second names, which are the imitations of the first, and which subsist intellectually, are of a dæmoniacal allotment.
And again, we may say that those names which are the third from the truth, which are logically devised, and which receive the ultimate resemblance of divine natures, are unfolded by scientific men, at one time energizing divinely, and at another intellectually, and generating moving images of their inward spectacles. For as the demiurgic intellect establishes resemblances about matter of the first forms contained in himself, and produces temporal images of things eternal, divisible images of things indivisible, and adumbrated images as it were of true beings,--after the same manner I think the science that is with us representing intellectual production, fabricates resemblances of other things, and also of the Gods themselves, representing that which is void of composition in them, through composition; that which is simple, through variety; and that which is united, through multitude; and thus fashioning names, ultimately exhibits images of divine natures. For it generates every name as if it were a statue of the Gods. And as the theurgic art through certain symbols calls forth the exuberant and unenvying goodness of the Gods into the illumination of artificial statues, thus also the intellectual science of divine concerns, by the compositions and divisions of sounds, unfolds the occult essence of the Gods. Very properly therefore, does Socrates in the Philebus say, that on account of his reverence of the Gods, he is agitated with the greatest fear respecting their names. For it is necessary to venerate even the ultimate echos of the Gods, and venerating these to become established in the first paradigms of them. And thus much concerning divine names, which at present may be sufficient for the purpose of understanding the theology of Plato. For we shall accurately discuss them when we speak of partial powers.
BOOK II.
CHAPTER I.
The most proper beginning however of the theory proposed by us is that from which we may be able to discover the first cause[135] of all beings. For being impelled from this in a becoming manner, and having our conceptions purified respecting it, we shall with greater facility be able to distinguish other things. About these things therefore we must speak from the beginning as follows: It is necessary that all beings, and all the natures of beings should either be many only, there being no one in them, neither in each, nor in all of them; or that they should be one only, there being no multitude, but all things being compelled into one and the same power of existence; or it is necessary that they should be both one and many, and that being should be one in order that neither multitude itself by itself may vanquish beings, nor that we may be forced to bring together into the same thing all things and their contraries at once. These things therefore being three, which of them shall we chuse? And to which of the above mentioned assertions shall we give our suffrage. It is necessary therefore severally to discuss the absurdities which attend these positions, and thus to survey after what manner the truth subsists.
If then beings are many, and in such a manner many, as we have mentioned from the beginning, so that _the one_ is not any where to be found, many absurdities will happen to be the result, or rather all the nature of beings will at once from the first be destroyed, as there will immediately be nothing which is capable of participating _the one_. For it must be admitted that every being is either one certain thing, or nothing. And that indeed which is a certain being, is also one; but that which is not even one being, has not any existence whatever. Hence, if many things have a subsistence, each of the many is something or a certain one. But if each of them is nothing, or not even one thing, neither is it possible for the many to exist; for the many are many so far as each individual of the multitude exists. If, therefore, the many alone have a subsistence, and _the one_ in no respect is, neither will the many exist. For things which are in no respect one have not any existence whatever. But if _the one_ is not, by a much greater priority neither have the many an existence. For it necessarily follows that none of the things from which the many consist will have a subsistence.
Farther still, if the many alone have a subsistence (as has been said) all things will be infinitely infinite; and if you receive any one of the infinites whatever, this also will be immediately infinite.
And with respect to the things from which this consists and which are infinite, each of these likewise will be infinite. For let something of the many be assumed, which we say is not one, this therefore will be multitude according to its own nature, since it belongs to beings, but is not nothing. If however it is multitude, this also will consist of many things, and will be many. And if you assume something of these manys, this will immediately appear to you not to be one, but many.
There will likewise be immediately the same reasoning in these, and in a similar manner each, (because we falsely speak of each) will be multitude in energy. And each, as I may say, will be infinite, or rather will be infinitely infinite. For there is nothing which will not be something of this kind; since a part is many, and in a similar manner the part of a part; and this to infinity. For multitude proceeding will never stop, nor infinity, in consequence of being deprived of the nature of _the one_. To make beings however, to be infinitely infinite, is impossible both with respect to truth, and to the thing proposed by us. For if being is infinitely infinite, being can neither be known, nor discovered; since the infinite is entirely incomprehensible and unknown. If also being is infinitely infinite, there will be something more infinite than the infinite. But if that something is more infinite, this will be less infinite. That, however, which is less infinite; since it is not perfectly infinite, will evidently be finite, so far as it falls short of the nature of the infinite. If, therefore, there is something which is itself according to multitude more infinite than that which is infinite in multitude there will be something more than the infinite, and the infinite will be less, yet not according to multitude. This however is impossible.
Hence there is not the infinitely infinite.
Again therefore, according to this hypothesis, the same things will be according to the same, similar and dissimilar. For if all the manys are not one, and each thing according to all things is not one, that which is not one will evidently suffer the same passion in consequence of the privation of _the one_. All things therefore being deprived of _the one_, after the same manner, they will on this account subsist similarly with respect to each other. But things which subsist similarly, so far as they thus subsist, are evidently similar to each other. Hence the many will be similar to each other, so far as they are deprived of _the one_. They will likewise according to this privation of _the one_ be perfectly dissimilar. For it is necessary that things which are similar should suffer the same passion; so that things which do not suffer any thing that is the same, will not be similar. But things which suffer any thing that is the same, suffer also one thing.
Hence things which are deprived of every one, will not suffer any thing that is the same. The many therefore will be similar and dissimilar according to the same. But this is impossible. Hence it is impossible for the many to exist which are in no respect one.
Moreover, the many will be the same with and different from each other according to the same. For if all things are similarly deprived of _the one_, so far indeed as all of them are similarly deprived they will be the same according to this privation; since things which subsist after the same manner according to habit are the same, and also things which are after the same manner deprived according to privation. But so far in short, as each of them is deprived of every one, so far the many will be different from each other. For if _the one_ in the many is the same, that which is in no respect one, will in no respect be the same.
The many therefore will be the same and not the same with each other.
But if they are the same and not the same it is evident that they are different from each other. For that which is the same and not the same, so far as it is not the same, is not the same, by nothing else than the different. Farther still therefore, these many will be moveable and immoveable, if _the one_ is not. For if each of them is not one, they will be immoveable according to the privation of _the one_. For if that which is not one should be changed, each of them would have _the one_; since privations being changed, entirely lead into habits the things that are changed. It is necessary however that what is not one should remain immoveable according to the privation of _the one_, though this very thing is itself impossible, viz. that the many should stand still. For every thing which stands still is in something which is the same, viz. it is either in the same form, or in the same place. But every thing which is in the same, is in one thing which is the same.
For the same in which it is, is one thing. Every thing therefore which stands still is in one thing. The many, however, do not participate of _the one_. But it is perfectly impossible that things which do not participate of _the one_, should be in one certain thing. And things which are not in one thing cannot stand still, since things which stand still are entirely in one and the same thing. It is impossible therefore, that the many should stand still, and remain immoveable. It has been demonstrated however, that the many must necessarily stand immoveable. The same things therefore, and the same passion, (I mean the privation of the habit of _the one_,) are moveable and immoveable.
For things immoveable, and things which stand still, so far as they are unstable, so far they must necessarily appear to be moveable.
Moreover, there is no number of beings if _the one_ in no respect is; but all things and each thing will be not one. For the particle of number, the monad, is one, and every number itself is one. For if there are five monads, there is also the pentad; and if three monads, the triad. But the triad itself is a certain unity, and so is the pentad. So that if there is no one, there will neither be any part, nor the whole of numbers. For how can there be any number _the one_ not existing? For _the one_ is the principle of numbers. But the principle not existing, neither is it possible that the things which proceed from this principle should exist. Hence _the one_ not existing, neither will there be any number.
Again, therefore, neither will there be any knowledge of beings if _the one_ is not. For it will not be possible either to speak or think of any being. For each thing itself, and every thing of which we can speak, and in which we impress the nature of _the one_, will have no existence, because neither does _the one_ exist. Hence neither will there be any discourse nor any knowledge. For discourse is one thing consisting of many things, if it is perfect. And knowledge then exists, when that which knows becomes one with that which is known.
But union not existing, there will at the same time be no knowledge of things, and it will be impossible to speak about things which we know. To which we may add, that the inexplicable in the several infinites, will necessarily always fly from the bound of knowledge. For immediately each apparent infinite which he who possesses knowledge desires to understand, will escape the gnostic power hastening to come into contact with, and adhere to it, since it is incapable either of contact or adhesion. If, therefore, the many alone have an existence, _the one_ having no subsistence whatever, so many absurdities, and a still greater number must necessarily happen to those who adopt such an hypothesis.
But if _the one_ which is _the one itself_ alone has a subsistence, and there is nothing else (for if there were there would not only be one but many things; since one and another thing are more than one, and are not one thing only) if this be the case, there will neither be among all things either whole, or that which has parts. For every thing which has parts is many, and every whole has parts. But _the one_ is in no respect many. Neither therefore will there be a whole, nor that which has parts. Farther still, neither is it possible that there should be a beginning, or end of any thing. For that which has a beginning, a middle, and an end, is divisible. But _the one_ is not divisible, because neither has it any parts. Hence, neither has it a beginning, nor a middle, nor an end. Again, if _the one_ alone has a subsistence, no being will have figure. For every thing which has figure is either rectilinear or circular, or mixt from these. But if indeed it is rectilinear, it will have for its parts, the middle, and the extremes.
If it is circular, there will be one thing in it as a middle, but other things as extremes, to which the middle extends. And if it is mixed from the right and circular line, it will consist of many things, and will not be one.
Moreover, neither will any being be in itself, nor in another thing.
For that which is in another thing is different from that in which it is. But _the one_ alone existing and nothing else (for it will by no means be in another thing) there will be no being which is in another thing. But that which is in itself will at the same time comprehend and be comprehended; and in this, to comprehend will not be the same thing as to be comprehended; nor will there be the same[136] definition of both. There will therefore be two things, and no longer _the one_ alone. Again, neither will any being be moved. For being moved indeed, it must necessarily be changed. But being changed it must be in another thing. If _the one_ however alone has an existence, it is not possible for any thing to appear to be in something else. Hence it is not possible for any being to be changed. But every thing which stands still is necessarily in the same thing. And that which is in the same is in a certain same thing. The one however is in no same thing. For that which is in a certain thing, is either in itself, or in something else. But it has been demonstrated, that it is neither in itself, nor in another. Hence neither is it in a certain same thing. Neither therefore does any being stand still.
Moreover, it is impossible for any thing to be the same with, or different from any thing. For if there is nothing besides _the one itself_, there is not any thing which will be either the same with, or different from another thing. For there will not be any other being.
And _the one itself_ will not be different from itself; for it would be many and not one. Nor will it be the same with itself. For this thing which is same is in another, and same is not _the one itself_. For _the one_ is simply one, because it is not many. But that which is same is the same with another thing. Again, neither is it possible for any thing to be similar or dissimilar to any thing. For every thing similar suffers a certain same passion; but every thing dissimilar a certain different passion. _The one_, however, cannot suffer any thing, nor can this be the case with any thing else besides _the one_; since nothing else has any existence whatever, if _the one_ alone has a subsistence.
Farther still, in addition to these things we say that neither is it possible for any thing to be touched, nor to be separate, if there is nothing else besides _the one_. For how can things which have no existence be separate, or come into contact with any thing? But neither can _the one_ either be separate from itself, or touch itself. For it would thus be passive to the being touched, and the being separate.
But _the one_ suffers no other thing besides itself. It is likewise requisite that no one thing should either be equal or unequal to any thing. For that which is equal to another thing, is said to be so with reference to another thing. And the like may be said of that which is unequal. Another thing, however, has no existence, if _the one_ alone has a subsistence. But neither can _the one_ be equal or unequal to itself. For if unequal, there will be one thing in it as greater, but another as less; so that it will be two things and not one. And if _the one_ is equal to itself, _the one_ will measure itself. This however is impossible. For _the one_ will measure and be measured by itself, so that it will not be _the one itself_. Neither therefore will there be any equality or inequality in beings. If however these things are impossible, neither can any being come into contact with another, and be separate, nor be similar or dissimilar, nor be same or different, nor again, stand still, or be moved, or in short be in any thing, or have figure, or be a whole, or have parts, if _the one_ alone has a subsistence which is void of multitude, and is without all these things. Neither however, is it possible for the many alone to have a subsistence, as was before demonstrated. And hence it is necessary that every being should be both many and one.
If this however is the case, either _the many_ must participate of _the one_, or _the one_ of _the many_, or both must participate of each other, or neither of each other; but _the many_ indeed must be separate, and _the one_ must also be separate, in order that _the many_ and _the one_ may subsist, as reason evinces. If, therefore, neither same absurdities will ensue as we brought together in the hypothesis of _the many_ alone having a subsistence. For again there will be _the many_ separate from _the one_. For if _the one_ subsists by itself, and _the many_ do not in any respect participate of _the one_, _the many_ will be infinitely infinite, they will be similar and dissimilar, same and different, moved and stable, and there will neither be any number nor any knowledge of _the many_. For the absence of _the one_ compels all these consequences to be apparent in _the many_. It is impossible therefore, that neither _the many_ should participate of _the one_, nor If however, _the one_ participates of _the many_, and _the many_ of _the one_, and both these are in each other, it is necessary that there should be another nature besides these, which is neither one nor many. For both these being mingled in each other, it is necessary that there should be a cause of their mixture which conjoins _multitude_ to _the one_, and _the one_ to _multitude_. For it is necessary that every thing that is mingled, should have a cause of the mixture. For in short, if _the one_ and _multitude_ participate of each other, neither _the one_ is the cause of essence to _multitude_, nor _multitude_ to _the one_, but a certain third thing is the cause of essence to both, and which is prior to these. For what will that be which makes this to be multitude, and that to be one? And what is the cause of this communication and association with each other, _the one_ so far as it is one never having any communication with _the many_? For _the many_ so far as many, and _the one_ so far as one are different from each other. And so far as neither is from neither, they have no sympathy with each other. What therefore is it which collects these into one, since they fly from and are unmingled with each other? For being thus discordant with each other, they cannot desire each other, or if they did their congress must be fortuitous. For if this should happen to be the case, there was a time when these were separate from each other, since now also they subsist together causally. It is however impossible for _the many_ to subsist separate from _the one_.
The mixture therefore is not causal. But neither is the mixture from _the many_, if neither _the one_ is the cause of _the many_, nor _the many_ of _the one_. What therefore is this more excellent thing [which is the cause of the mixture?] For it is either one, or not one. But if indeed, it is _the one itself_, we must again inquire concerning this, whether it participates of multitude or of nothing. For if this participates, it is evident that some other thing prior to this, will for the same reason present itself to the view, and this will be the case to infinity. But if a thing of this kind is entirely void of multitude, again that which was asserted at first will not be true, viz. that _the many_ do not participate of _the one_, nor _the one_ of _the many_. I mean however that which is the most principal and primarily one. But there is indeed a certain one in the many, and there is also the imparticipable one, and which is simply one, and nothing else. If however that which is prior to both, is _not[137] one_, it is necessary that this _not one_ should be more excellent than _the one_.
All things however are, and are generated what they are, through _the one_. And together with _the one_ indeed every being is preserved; but separate from _the one_ proceeds to the corruption of itself. The mixture also of _the one_ and _multitude_, which the non-one affords to beings, is communion and union. _The one_[138] therefore, and that which is _not one_,[139] are the cause of nothing else to beings than of their being one. If however _the one_ is the cause of a thing of this kind, that which is _not one_ will not be the cause of that which is more excellent [than union.] But it is every where necessary that what is more excellent should be the cause to beings of another more excellent thing, according to its own power. For thus it will be more excellent as being more good, and as the cause from its own nature of a greater and more excellent good to those things to which a less good is the cause of less goodness. From these things therefore it is necessary, that _the many_ should participate of _the one_, that _the one_ should be unmingled with _multitude_, and that nothing should be better than _the one_, but that this should also be the cause of being to _the many_. For every thing which is deprived of _the one_, flies immediately into nothing, and to its own corruption. But that which is not many, is not at one and the same time not many and nothing. For to _the one_ that which is nothing, or not one, is opposed, and to _the many_ that which is not many is opposed. If, therefore, _the one_ and _the many_ are not the same, the not being many will not be the same with nothing. From thus considering the affair therefore, it appears that _the one_ is beyond multitude, and is the cause of being to _the many_.
CHAPTER II.
It is necessary however, that discussing the same subject after another manner, we should again see if we can in a certain respect follow what has been said, and refer it to the same end. It is necessary therefore, that there should either be one principle, or many principles; or rather, we should begin from hence. And if there are many principles, they must either possess sympathy with each other, or they must be divulsed from each other, and they must be either finite or infinite.
But if there is one principle, this must either be not essence, or essence. And if it is essence, this must either be corporeal or incorporeal. And if incorporeal, it must either be separate from, or inseparable from bodies. And if separate, it must either be moveable or immoveable. But if it is not essence, it must either be inferior to all essence, or participated by essence, or imparticipable. If therefore there are many principles, and which have no sympathy with each other, no being will originate from them [conjointly,] nor will they be common to all things, but each will produce by itself. For what communication can there be between things which are naturally foreign, or what co-operation between things which are entirely of a different kind? In addition also to these things, there will be _the many_ which do not participate of _the one_. For if there is a certain one common in all of them, they will not be perfectly separated essentially from each other. If therefore they are different, and there is nothing which is the same about them, they are alone many and by no means one. But if there are many principles, and which possess sympathy with each other, they will have something common, which leads all of them to sympathy, and similarly unfolds all of them to the view. For we call those things sympathetic, which happen to be passive to the same thing. But similars are entirely similar from participating one form and one nature. If however this be the case, it is necessary that that all [or universal] which is every where, and in all the principles, should be of a more principal nature than the many. This therefore gives them the power to generate sympathy with each other, and affords them communion according to nature.
Again, if there are indeed infinite principles, either the things which proceed from them are infinite, and there will thus be the infinite twice, or they are finite, and thus all the principles will not be principles. For things finite in number, will entirely proceed from finite principles. The principles therefore are in vain infinite. To which may be added, that infinity makes both the principles to be unknown, and the things which proceed from them. For the principles being unknown, it is necessary that the things which proceed from them should be unknown; since we then think that we know any thing when we know the causes and the first principles of it. But if the principles are finite, it is evident that there will be a certain number of them: for we say that number is a definite multitude. If however, there is a number of the principles, it is necessary that there should be a cause of the whole number of them. For every number is from one; and this, viz. _the one_ is the principle of numbers. This therefore will be the principle of principles, and the cause of finite multitude, since number itself is one, and the end in the many is one, and it bounds the many by that which is one. But the principle being one, and this being essence, it is necessary if this is admitted to be either corporeal or incorporeal, that it must be acknowledged to be the principle of other things.
If therefore, body is the cause of the generation of beings, it is necessary indeed, that it should be divisible and have parts. For every body is in its own nature divisible; since every magnitude is a certain whole and that which is a whole consists of parts. These parts therefore, (but I mean each of them) must either severally participate a certain one, or not participate it. If therefore they do not participate it, they will be many alone, and by no means one. Hence, neither will that which consists from them be a whole. For there being no one, that which consists of all of them will not be one. But if each of the parts participates of something of this kind, and there is something which is the same in all of them, a thing of this kind must