of which is adapted to youth, and is useful for the purpose of exciting their intellect, which is, as it were, in a dormant state. For it is a true exercise of the eye of the soul in the specula¬ tion of things, leading forth through opposite positions, the essential impression of ideas which it contains, and considering not only the divine path, as it were, which conducts to truth, but exploring whether the deviations from it contain any thing worthy of belief ; and lastly, stimulating the all-various com ceptions of the soul. But the second energy takes place when intellect rests from its former investigations, as becoming most familiar with the speculation of beings, and beholds truth itself firmly established on a pure and holy foundation. This energy, according to Socrates, by a progression through ideas, evolves the whole of an intelligible nature, till it arrives at that which is first; and this by analyzing, defining, demonstrating, and dividing, proceeding upwards and downwards, till having en¬ tirely investigated the nature of intelligibles, it raises itself to a nature superior to beings. But the soul being perfectly esta¬ blished in this nature, as in her paternal port, no longer tends to a more excellent object of desire, as she has now arrived at the end of her search. And you may say that what is deli¬ vered in the Phsedrus and Sophista, is the employment of this energy, giving a twofold division to some, and a fourfold to other operations of the dialectic art. Hence it is assigned to such as philosophize purely, and no longer require preparatory exercise, but nourish the intellect of their soul in pure intel¬ lection. But the third energy, which is declarative according to truth, purifies from twofold ignorance,1 when its reasons are
1 i. e. When a man is ignorant that lie is ignorant ; and this is the disease of the multitude.
ments also through which this is demonstrated, are
a certain elevation to this end. But what kind of
a person is it necessary the man should be who is
elevated thither ? Is it not, as Plato says, one who
has seen all, or most things ? And who in his first
generation has descended into the seed of a man
who will be a philosopher, or a musician, or a
lover? The philosopher, therefore, the musician,
and the lover, are naturally adapted to be elevated.
What, therefore, is the mode ? Is there one and
the same mode for all these ? Or is there a different
mode for each ? There is, indeed, a twofold pro»
gression to all of them ; one to those who are
ascending ; but the other to those who have arrived
at the supernal realms. For the former proceeds
from things beneath ; but the latter ranks among
those who are now in the intelligible region, and
who in that place have as it were fixed their foot¬
step. There, also, it is necessary for them to pro¬
ceed, till they have arrived at the extremity of the
place. The end of the progression, however, is
employed upon men, full of opinion ; and this is spoken of in the Sophista.”
See this subject more amply discussed in the additional notes at the end of this volume.
then obtained, when some one arrives at the sum¬
mit of the intelligible world. But let this at pre¬
sent remain [without any further discussion.] And
let us first endeavour to speak concerning this ele¬
vation.
In the first place, therefore, let these men be
distinguished by us, and let us begin from the mu¬
sician, and show who he naturally is. We must
admit, then, that he is easily excited 1 and asto¬
nished at the beautiful ; yet is not disposed to be
moved from himself, but is prepared from casual
occurrences as from certain types or impressions,
to be excited by sounds, and to the beautiful in
these, just as the timid are by noises. He like¬
wise always flies from dissonance ; and pursues in
songs and rythms, that which is one, congruous,
and elegant. After these sensible sounds, rythms,
and figures therefore, he is thus to be elevated, viz.
by separating the matter, in which analogies and
ratios are inherent, and contemplating the beauty
which they contain. He must also be taught that
the things about which he was astonished were,
intelligible harmony, and the beauty which is in it,
* For ακίνητον here, it is necessary to read ευκίνητον r
and in short, the beautiful itself, and not a certain
beauty only. The reasonings, likewise, of philo¬
sophy must be inserted in him, through which he
will be led to a belief of truths of which he is igno¬
rant, thougli he [occultly] possesses them. What
these reasonings however, are, will be hereafter un¬
folded,
II. But the lover, into which the musician may
be changed, and being changed will either remain
[in that character] or will pass beyond it, has in a
certain respect a recollection of beauty. Being
however separated from it, he is incapable of learn¬
ing what it is. But as he is struck by the beautiful
objects which present themselves to the sight, he
is seized with astonishment about them. He
therefore must be taught not to be abjectly asto¬
nished about one beautiful body, but he must be
led by the exercise of the reasoning power to all
beautiful bodies, and he who does this must exhibit
to him that which is one and the same in all of
them, and inform him that it is different from and
is derived elsewhere, than from bodies, and is
rather inherent in other things, such as beautiful
pursuits, and beautiful laws. For the lover will
now become accustomed to incorporeal natures.
He likewise must be led to the beauty which is in
the arts, in sciences, and the virtues, and after¬
wards to that which is one and the same in all
these ; and he must be taught after what manner
beauty is inherent in each of them. But after the
virtues, he must now ascend to intellect, and being
itself, and there commence the progression on
high*
III. The philosopher, however, is naturally
prompt, and as it were, winged, and does not re¬
quire a separation [from sensible objects,] like the
other characters ; since he is excited to the super¬
nal region, but is dubious, and therefore is only in
want of one that may point out the way. The
path, therefore, must be shown to him, and he must
be liberated, since he is naturally willing, and was
formerly freed [from the fetters of a corporeal na¬
ture.] Hence, he must be instructed in the ma¬
thematical disciplines, in order that he may be
accustomed to the perception of and belief in an
incorporeal essence. For he will easily admit its
subsistence, as he is desirous of learning. As he
is naturally, therefore, endued with virtue, he must
be led to the perfection of tiie virtues ; and after
the mathematics, he must be taught dialectic rea¬
sonings, and in short, must be rendered skilful in
dialectic,
IV. What, then, is the dialectic which ought
to be delivered in addition to the former particu¬
lars ? It is, indeed, a habit enabling its possessor
to reason about every thing, to know what each
thing is, and in what it differs from other things,
what the common something is which it partici¬
pates, where each of these subsists, if a thing is,
w hat it is, what the number is of beings, and again
of non-beings [which are not nothing] but different
from beings. This, also, discusses the good , and
that which is not good ; such things as are under
the good , and such as are under the contrary to it ;
and what that is which is eternal, and that which is
not a thing of this kind. All these likewise it dis¬
cusses scientifically, and not from opinion. Rest¬
ing, also, from the wandering about a sensible
nature, it establishes itself in the intelligible world,
and there has its employment, dismissing falsehood,
and nourishing the soul in what is called the plain
of truth, employing for this purpose the division of
Plato, and also for the separation of forms* It
likewise employs this division for the purpose of
defining what a thing is, and in order to obtain a
knowledge of the first genera of things, intellectually
connecting that which results from these, till it has
proceeded through the whole of an intelligible na¬
ture ; and again, by an analytic process it arrives
at that to which it had proceeded from the first*
Then, however, it becomes quiescent, because so
far as it arrives thither it is at rest, and being no
longer busily employed, but becoming one, it sur¬
veys what is called logic, which is occupied about
propositions and syllogisms, — just as if giving to
another art, the knowledge of writing ; some of
which it considers as necessary, and prior to art.
But it forms a judgment of these* as well as of
other things, and thinks that some of them are use¬
ful, but others superfluous, and pertaining to the
method by which these are discussed*
V. Whence, however, does this science derive
its principles ? May we not say that intellect im¬
parts clear principles to the soul that is able to re¬
ceive them ? Afterwards, the soul compounds the
things consequent to these principles, and connects
and divides them, till it arrives at a perfect intel¬
lect. For, as Plato says, this science is the purest
part of intellect and [intellectual] prudence. It is
necessary, therefore, since it is the most honourable
habit of those things that are in us, that it should
be conversant with being, and the most honorable
nature ; and that prudence, indeed, should be con¬
versant with being, but intellect with that which is
beyond being. What, then, is philosophy ? That
which is most honorable. Is philosophy, therefore,
the same as dialectic ? Or is not dialectic the most
honorable part of philosophy ? For it must not be
fancied that it is the instrument of the philosopher ;
since it does not consist of mere theorems and rules,
but is conversant with things, and has beings as it
were for its subject matter. Nevertheless, it pro¬
ceeds in a path to beings, possessing things them¬
selves together with theorems. It knows, however,
that which is false and sophistical accidentally,
something else being the cause of these ; and it
forms a judgment of them as of that which is foreign,
knowing the false by the truths it contains in itself,
when it is adduced by any one, because it is con¬
trary to the rule of truth. Propositions, therefore,
are not the object of its knowledge ; for these are
letters. But, knowing truth, it knows that which
is called a proposition. And universally, it knows
the motions of the soul, what the soul admits, and
what it rejects, and whether it rejects that which it
admits, or something else. Likewise, whether dif¬
ferent or the same things are adduced ; applying
itself to them in a way resembling sense/ But it
assigns to another power an accurate discussion of
these particulars.
VI. This, therefore, is an honourable part;
since philosophy has also other parts. For it
speculates about nature, receiving assistance from
dialectic, in the same manner as the other arts use
arithmetic. Philosophy, however, proximately de¬
rives assistance from dialectic. And, in a similar
manner, it speculates about manners, surveying
them through dialectic, but adding habits, and the
exercises from which habits proceed. The rational
virtues also have habits, and what are now as pecu-
liarities, which they derive from thence. And the
other virtues, indeed, have their reasonings in pecu¬
liar passions and actions ; but prudence is a certain
1 i. c. By intuition, so as to come into immediate contact with the objects of its knowledge. It does this, however, so far as its energy is purely intellectual.
ratiocination, and is conversant with that which is
more universal. For it considers whether it is pro¬
per now to abstain or hereafter, or in short, whether
another thing is better. Dialectic, however, and
wisdom, introduce ail things to the use of prudence,
universally and immaterially* But whether is it
possible to know 18 inferior concerns without dia¬
lectic and wisdom ? Or may they be known
in a different and defective way ? It is possible,
however, for a man to be thus wise and skilled in
dialectic without a knowledge of these. Or this
will not be the case, but they will coalesce, either
previously, or together. And perhaps some one
may have certain physical virtues, from which,
when wisdom is possessed, the perfect virtues will
be obtained. Wisdom, therefore, is posterior to
the physical virtues, but afterwards it perfects the
manners ; or rather, the physical virtues existing,
both are co-increased, and mutually perfected.
Or, one of them being previously assumed, the one
will perfect the other. For, in short, physical
virtue has an imperfect eye, and imperfect man¬
ners ; and the principles of both are, for the most
part, derived from those things which we possess.