Commentary on the First Alcibiades — Proclus ============================================ Translation/edition: Thomas Taylor Language: English Read in Plato Scroll: https://plato-scroll.com/s/proclus-alcibiades/ This file: https://plato-scroll.com/text/proclus-alcibiades.txt Sources and licences: https://plato-scroll.com/attribution.html Numbers in [brackets] are the edition's reference loci (Stephanus, Bekker, book.line, page...). Superscript numerals refer to the Notes at the end. Translated by Thomas Taylor, 1804 THE FOLLOWING ADDITIONAL NOTES ON THE FIRST ALCIBIADES ARE EXTRACTED FROM THE MS. COMMENTARY OF PROCLUS ON THAT DIALOGUE. Son of Clinias! you wonder, I suppose, etc. The prefaces (τα μροοιμια) of Plato’s dialogues accord with the whole scope of them; and are neither devised by Plato for the sake of dramatic allurement, since this mode of writing is very remote from the magnitude of the philosopher’s conceptions, nor are they merely historical; but each is suspended from the design of the dialogue to which it belongs. Every thing in the dialogues of Plato, in the same manner as in the mysteries, is referred to the whole perfection of the particulars which are investigated. Agreeably to this, Plato in the very beginning of this dialogue appears to me to indicate in a beautiful manner the scope of the whole composition. For his design, as we have said, was to unfold our nature, and the whole essence according to which each of us is defined; and to unveil the Delphic mandate KNOW THYSELF through demonstrative methods. But the preface itself converts the young man to himself, and represents him as exploring his own pre-subsisting conceptions; and, at the same time that it converts him to himself, leads him to a survey, as from a watch-tower, of Socratic science. For an investigation of the cause through which Socrates alone, of all his lovers, does not change his love, but began to love him prior to others, and is not altered when the rest no longer love, evinces him to be a spectator of the whole life of Socrates. The forms of conversion therefore are triple. For every thing which is converted, is either converted to that which is worse than itself, through apostatizing from its proper perfection, or is led back to that which is better than itself, through its own life, and an energy according to nature, or it is converted to itself, according to a knowledge co-ordinate to itself, and a middle form of motion. A conversion indeed to that which is worse, is a passion of the soul whose wings suffer a defluxion, and that is now placed in oblivion both of herself, and of natures prior to herself. But a conversion both to itself and to a more excellent nature, takes place not in souls only, but in divine natures themselves, as Parmenides teaches us, when he establishes two species of conversion, and shows how a divine nature is converted to itself, and is in itself, and how it is converted to that which is prior to itself, so far as it is comprehended in another, and is united with a better nature. On this account Socrates at the end of this dialogue says, that he who is converted to and becomes a spectator of himself, will by this mean behold the whole of a divine nature, and through a conversion to himself will be led to an elevated survey of divinity, and to a conversion to that which is better than himself. These things, therefore, the preface indicates. For it leads Alcibiades from a life tending to externals to a survey of himself, and recalls him through a knowledge of himself to a love of Socratic science; since a desire to learn the cause of the conduct of Socrates is to become a lover of the pre-subsisting science which he contains. Again, Plato signifies in the preface, besides other things, that a worthy man will always employ his knowledge on objects properly co-ordinated to that knowledge; and that he will never attempt to possess a stable, definite and immutable knowledge of things contingent and mutable, nor a dubious, indefinite, and disordered apprehension of things necessary, and which always possess a sameness of subsistence. But, according to the distinction adopted by Socrates in the Republic, he will conjointly contemplate all intelligibles with simple, uniform, and intellectual knowledge; but will survey the middle reasons of things with a scientific and dianoëtic evolution and composition. Again, with the sensitive power which is the third from truth, he will touch upon proper objects of knowledge, through instruments of sense, distinguishing in a becoming manner every object of sense. And lastly, by an assimilative power he will apprehend the images of sensibles. And indeed Timæus, distinguishing cognitions analogously to the objects of knowledge, exhorts us to judge of true beings by intelligence in conjunction with reason; but such things as are not beings, but are perpetually conversant with generation and corruption, by opinion and sense. He also adds, that the reasons pertaining to true beings cannot be confuted, and are indubitable; but those which belong to things borne along in the rapid flux of generation, are conjectural and contingent. For every where reasons imitate the things of which they are the interpreters. In the third place, Socrates in the Cratylus says that the names of things eternal have a certain alliance with the things themselves; but that the names of things generated and corrupted are multiformly changed, and partake much of position, through the unstable lation of their subjects. If therefore the knowledge of things which subsist perpetually the same, differs from that of things contingent, and reasons are allotted an all-various mutation, and different names accord with different things, is it wonderful that Socrates, who is here discoursing concerning an unstable nature, should use the word οιμαι, I opine, or suppose? which signifies that the nature of the thing known is mutable, but does not accuse the knowledge of Socrates as indefinite, mingled with ignorance, and dubious. You have looked down on your admirers. Alcibiades, by despising those that were unworthy of his love, and admiring those that were worthy of it, testifies his great alliance to the beautiful, and that he was abundantly prepared for the reception of virtue. But perhaps some one may be desirous to learn why elevated and grand conceptions move divine lovers, and appear to deserve diligent attention. We reply, that such manners seem to possess an alliance with divine beauty. For to despise things present as shadowy representations, and of no worth, and to investigate something prior to these, which is great and wonderful and transcends the conceptions of the multitude, is an evident argument of the parturiency of the soul about the beautiful. Hence Socrates in the Republic represents souls which are about to descend from the heavens, as choosing a commanding and magnificent life, For they still retain the echo, as it were, of the life which is there, and, in consequence of this, convert themselves to power and dominion, and despite every thing else as trifling and of no worth. But this affection is the principle of safety to souls. For to consider human concerns as small, and vile, and not worthy of serious attention, and to investigate that form of life which is exempt from multitude and inaccessible to the vulgar, is a sufficient viaticum for the pursuit of virtue. You think that if you speedily make your appearance before the Athenian people, etc. The design of all that has been proximately said is to purify our dianoëtic part from two-fold ignorance, and to remove all that impedes our resumption of true science. For it is impossible for things imperfect to obtain their proper perfection in any other way than by a purification of impediments; for that which purifies every where possesses this power. But the true purification of the soul is triple; one kind proceeding through the telestic art, concerning which Socrates speaks in the Phædrus; another through philosophy, concerning which much is said in the Phædo; for there prudence and each of the other virtues is denominated a certain purification; but the purification through this dialectic science leads to contradiction, confutes the inequality of dogmas; and liberates us from two-fold ignorance. Purification therefore being triple, Socrates here employs the third of these on Alcibiades: for those that labour under two-fold ignorance are benefited by this purification. Hence Socrates does not assert any thing of truth, till he has removed those opinions which impede the soul in her apprehension of truth. Simple ignorance indeed subsists between science and two-fold ignorance; and the first transition is from science to simple ignorance, and the proximate ascent is from simple ignorance to science. At the same time likewise this ascent separates us from opinion tending to externals, converts the soul to herself; makes her explore her own proper dogmas, remove that which impedes her knowledge, and fill up what is deficient. For, as the body when disturbed by foreign humours often corrupts its aliment, and changes the benefit arising from it into a noxious property, so the soul being disturbed through false opinion, and receiving the assistance imparted from science in a manner adapted to her own habit, produces a principle of greater false opinion and deception. The purification therefore which precedes all the arguments of Socrates is comprehended in these words; and it may be said to resemble the telestic purifications which take place previous to the operations of the mysteries, which liberate us from all the defilements we became connected with from generation, and prepare us for the participation of a divine nature. But this purification takes place according to the dialectic method, which leads us to contradiction, confutes that deception which darkens our dianoëtic part, and proceeds through more known and universal assumptions to indubitable conclusions, receiving the major propositions from common conceptions, and the minor from the consent of him with whom we converse. It also conjoins the extremes with each other through media; denies of the minor whatever is denied of the major terms; and thinks fit that such things as are present with things predicated should also be present with the subjects of its diffusion. In fine, that you entertain such hopes as I have mentioned, I know with certainty. From hence we may rightly understand who it is that instructs, and who is instructed. For it is fit that he who instructs should accurately know the aptitudes of those that are instructed, and conformably to these should direct his attention; since every one is not to be disciplined in a similar manner. But he who is naturally a philosopher is to be led back to an incorporeal essence in one way, he who is a lover in another, and the musician in a still different way. And again, he who through the imagination of that facility of energy which belongs to a divine nature is astonished about pleasure, is to be led back in one way; he who through the desire of being sufficient to himself desires the possession of riches, in another way; and in a still different way, he who through the conception of divine power is busily employed about apparent power. For, images every where assuming the appearance of their principles draw aside unintelligent souls; but it is requisite, departing from these, to pass on to those true and real beings. And this was the mode of the Socratic doctrine, to lead up every one to the proper object of his desire. Hence, to the lover of pleasure he pointed out that which is pleasurable with purity, and unmingled with pain; for it is evident that this will be more eligible to him who pursues pleasure, than that which is mingled with its contrary. To the lover of riches he indicated where that which is truly sufficient to itself abides, and which is in no respect filled with indigence; for this must be more ardently pursued by him who aspires after self-perfection, and avoids indigence. But to the lover of dominion he showed where that which is powerful and governs is to be found, and what the nature is of the ruling form of life which is free from all subjection; for this will be considered as more honourable to the ambitious man than what is mingled with that which is to be avoided. Power therefore, self-sufficiency, and pleasure are not to be found in material things. For matter is imbecility and poverty, and is the cause of corruption and pain. But it is evident that these, if they are any where to be found, are in immaterial and separate natures. These natures therefore are the proper objects of love, and to these an ascent is to be made. After this manner, therefore, he who instructs ought to introduce discipline from the physical aptitudes in each, to each imparting safety; but he who is instructed should submit himself to his instructor, and gradually be led to the truth, departing from images and a subterranean cavern to the light and true essence, on every side extending himself to that which is unmingled with its contrary, and dismissing that which is divisible and shadowy, but aspiring after that which is universal and impartible. For total good, as Socrates says in the Philebus, is neither desirable only, nor alone perfect, and sufficient and able to fill other things, but comprehends at once all these, the perfect, the sufficient, the desirable. For it extends all things to itself, and imparts to all well-being; but it is regarded by the multitude partially. Hence some of them, looking only to the desirable which it contains, pursue the pleasurable, which is the image of it; but others, surveying the perfect alone, are busily employed about riches; for in these the image of perfection subsists; and others tending to the sufficient are astonished about power; for power carries with it a phantasm of sufficiency. To dismiss therefore these partial apprehensions of the good, to look to its whole nature, and to be led back to its all-perfect plenitude, separates in a becoming manner those that are instructed from an association with images. Have you knowledge in those things only which you have either learnt from others, or found out yourself? Plato considers Mathesis and Invention as paths of knowledge adapted to our souls. For the genera superior to our soul do not acquire their proper perfection through either of these; since they are always present, and never depart from the objects of their knowledge. Nor are natures subordinate to the human, and which are called irrational, adapted to learn any dianoëtic discipline, or to discover any thing by themselves. But the human soul containing in itself all reasons, and pre-assuming all sciences, is indeed darkened from generation, respecting the theory of what it possesses, and requires discipline and invention; that through discipline it may excite its intellections, and through invention may discover itself, and the plenitude of reasons which it contains. And these are the gifts of the Gods, benefiting it in its fallen condition, and recalling it to an intellectual life. For both, indeed, are derived from the Mercurial order; but Invention so far as Mercury is the son of Maia the daughter of Atlas; and Mathesis, so far as he is the messenger of Jupiter. For, unfolding the will of his father, he imparts to souls Mathesis; but so far as he proceeds from Maia, with whom Inquiry occultly resides, he bestows on his pupils Invention. But when Mathesis proceeds supernally to souls from more excellent natures, it is better than Invention; but when from co-ordinate natures, as from men exciting our gnostic power, it is then subordinate to Invention. Hence Invention has a middle subsistence adapted to the self-motive nature of the soul: for our self-vital and self-energetic powers become especially apparent through this. But Mathesis, according to that which is more excellent than human nature, fills the soul from the more divine causes of it; but, according to that which is subordinate to our nature, from things external to our essence, excites in an alter-motive manner our vital power. Indeed, that a certain knowledge of things is produced in us from more excellent natures, divine visions sufficiently indicate, in which the Gods unfold the order of wholes to souls, becoming the leaders of a progression to an intelligible essence, and enkindling those flames which conduct the soul on high. And thus much concerning Mathesis and Invention. But investigations and doctrines are necessarily preceded by simple ignorance. For the scientific no longer investigate the truth, in consequence of having obtained the boundary of knowledge, according to science; nor yet those that are involved in two-fold ignorance. For this very thing is two-fold ignorance, to consider that as sufficient which is neither beautiful, nor good, nor prudent, says Diotima, in the Banquet. This arises from souls descending into generation, and being essentially full of sciences, but receiving oblivion from generation, or the regions of sense. And in consequence of possessing the reasons of things, they have as it were agitated conceptions concerning them; but being vanquished by the potion of oblivion, they are incapable of expressing their conceptions, and referring them to science. Hence they contain them indigested and scarcely respiring, and on this account they are vanquished by two-fold ignorance. For they think that they know through these innate conceptions, but they are ignorant through oblivion; and hence arise deception, and an appearance of knowledge without the reality (δοκησις). He therefore who is involved in two-fold ignorance is remote from an investigation of things, in the same manner as he is who possesses scientific knowledge. For neither is it the province of a wife man to philosophize, nor of him who labours under the disease of two-fold ignorance; but this evidently belongs to him who is established according to simple ignorance. For he who is ignorant in a two-fold respect, is according to this similar to the wise man; just as matter, as same one rightly observes, possesses a dissimilar similitude to divinity. For, as matter is without form, so also is divinity. Each likewise is infinite and unknown; though this is true of the one according to that which is better, and of the other according to that which is worse than all things. Thus therefore the man of science, and the ignorant in a two-fold respect, do not investigate any thing; the one in consequence of being wise, and as it were full of knowledge; and the other in consequence of not even assuming the principles of investigation, through the falsehood with which he is surrounded. But he who possesses simple ignorance subsists in a certain respect between the man of science and him who doubles his deception. For he in short who knows himself, and is converted to himself, is superior to him who is perfectly ignorant of himself; but he who on beholding himself does not perceive knowledge but ignorance, is inferior to the man of science. For, of these three characters, the man of two-fold ignorance is entirely unconverted to himself; the wise man is converted to himself, and through this conversion finds within himself the virtues and sciences, shining forth to the view like divine statues; (οιον αγαλματα ϑεια προλαμποντα) but the man of simple ignorance is converted indeed, but beholds within ignorance, and a privation of actual science; and thus he is constituted at the beginning of mathesis and invention; either exploring himself and his own wealth, which he did not know that he possessed, or betaking himself to teachers, and by them being led to knowledge. In short, the soul according to science is assimilated to intellect, comprehending the object of knowledge in energy in the same manner as intellect comprehends the intelligible; but according to two fold ignorance, it is assimilated to matter. For, as matter possesses all things according to mere appearance, but in reality contains nothing, and is thought to be adorned, but is not exempt from a privation of ornament; so he who possesses two-fold ignorance thinks that he knows what he does not know, and carries about with him an appearance of wisdom in things of which he is ignorant. But Socrates, when he admits that there was a time in which we did not think ourselves knowing in what we now know, is thought by some to contradict what he says in the Phædo, in which discoursing about discipline being reminiscence, he shows that possessing a knowledge of the equal, the just, the beautiful, and of every form, we cannot relate the time when we received this knowledge. To this objection we reply, that the knowledge of our souls is two-fold; the one indistinct, and subsisting according to mere conjecture, but the other distinct, scientific and indubitable. For, as he some where says, we appear to know all things as in a dream, but are ignorant of them according to vigilant perception; containing indeed the reasons of things essentially, and as it were breathing forth the knowledges of these, but not possessing them in energy and vigour. Of the conception therefore of forms subsisting in us essentially, there is no preceding time; for we perpetually possess it; but we can relate the time in which we acquired a knowledge of forms according to energy and a distinct subsistence. Now what the things are which you have learnt I tolerably well know, etc. That these three disciplines, says Proclus, viz. mathesis, music, and gymnastic, contribute to the whole of political virtue, is evident. For gymnastic strengthens the softness of desire, and recalls its dissipated nature to a firm tone; this desiderative part of the soul being proximate to bodies. For anger is the tone of the soul, and, being oppressed with a death-like sleep through matter, requires to be strengthened and excited. But through music the robust and savage nature of anger is softened, and rendered elegant and harmonious. But neither is gymnastic alone sufficient to erudition. For when immoderately pursued, and unaccompanied with music, it renders the manners rustic, contentious, and vehement. Nor is music alone sufficient without gymnastic: for the life of those who alone use music without the gymnic exercises becomes effeminate and soft. It is requisite therefore, as in a lyre, that there should neither be vehemence alone, nor remission, but that the whole soul should be harmonized with respect to itself from disciplinative intension and remission. But the mathematics and dialectic excite and lead upwards our rational part: for the eye of the soul, which is blinded and buried by many other studies, is resuscitated by these, and is converted to its own essence and to the knowledge of itself. And all these are Mercurial disciplines. For this God is the inspective guardian of gymnastic exercises; and hence hermæ, or carved statues of Mercury, were placed in the Palæstræ: of music, and hence he is honoured as the lyrist (λυραιος) among the celestial constellations: and of disciplines, because the invention of geometry, reasoning, and discourse is referred to this God. He presides therefore over every species of erudition, leading us to an intelligible essence from this mortal abode, governing the different herds of souls, and dispersing the sleep and oblivion with which they are oppressed. He is likewise the supplier of recollection, the end of which is a genuine intellectual apprehension of divine natures. In well instituted polities, therefore, youth are instructed by the guardians in these disciplines: and among the Athenians certain images of these were preserved; grammar having a reference to dialectic discipline; playing on the harp pertaining to music, and wrestling to gymnastic; in which those youths that were well-born were instructed. And hence Socrates says that Alcibiades had learnt these, as having had an education adapted to a well-born youth. This also accords with the order of the universe. For our first age partakes in an eminent degree of the lunar operations; as we then live according to a nutritive and natural power. But our second age participates of Mercurial prerogatives; because we then apply ourselves to letters, music, and wrestling. The third age is governed by Venus; because then we begin to produce seed, and the generative powers of nature are put in motion. The fourth age is solar; for then our youth is in its vigour and full perfection, subsisting as a medium between generation and decay; for such is the order which vigour is allotted. The fifth age is governed by Mars; in which we principally aspire after power and superiority over others. The sixth age is governed by Jupiter; for in this we give ourselves up to prudence, and pursue an active and political life. And the seventh age is Saturnian, in which it is natural to separate ourselves from generation, and transfer ourselves to an incorporeal life. And thus much we have discussed, in order to procure belief that letters and the whole of education are suspended from the Mercurial series. But it is worth while to consider on what account Alcibiades refused to learn to play on wind-instruments, though this art pertains to music. It has then been said by some, that being vain of his person from his youth, he avoided that deformity of the face which is occasioned by blowing the pipe or flute. But it is better to say that well-instituted polities are averse to the art of playing on wind-instruments; and therefore neither does Plato admit it. The cause of this is the variety of this instrument, the pipe, which shows that the art which uses it should be avoided. For instruments called Panarmonia, and those consisting of many strings, are imitations of pipes. For every hole of the pipe emits, as they say, three sounds at least; but if the cavity above the holes be opened, then each hole will emit more than three sounds. It is however requisite not to admit all music in education, but that part of it only which is simple. Further still of these musical instruments, some are repressive, and others motive; some are adapted to rest and others to motion. The repressive therefore are most useful for education, leading our manners into order, repressing the turbulency of youth, and bringing its agitated nature to quietness and temperance. But the motive instruments are adapted to enthusiastic energy: and hence, in the mysteries and mystic sacrifices, the pipe is useful; for the motive power of it is employed for the purpose of exciting the dianoëtic power to a divine nature. For here it is requisite that the irrational part should be laid asleep, and the rational excited. Hence, those that instruct youth use repressive instruments, but initiators such as are motive: for that which is disciplined is the irrational part; but it is reason which is initiated, and which energizes enthusiastically. How is this, friend Alcibiades, etc. The descent of the soul into body separates it from divine souls, from whom it is filled with intelligence, power, and purity, and conjoins it with generation, and nature, and material things, from which it is filled with oblivion, wandering, and ignorance. For, in its descent, multiform lives and various vestments grow upon it, which draw it down into a mortal composition, and darken its vision of real being. It is requisite therefore that the soul which is about to be led properly from hence to that ever-vigilant nature, should amputate those second and third powers which are suspended from its essence, in the same manner as weeds, stones and shells, from the marine Glaucus; should restrain its externally proceeding impulses, and recollect true beings and a divine essence, from which it descended, and to which it is fit that the whole of our life should hasten. But the parts or powers which are in want of perfection in us, are: the irrational life, which is naturally adapted to be adorned and disciplined through manners; the proæretic part, which requires to be with drawn from irrational appetites, and a connection with them; and besides these our gnostic power, which requires a reminiscence of true beings. For the part which recollects is different from that which is elegantly arranged through manners; and different from both these is the part which by admonitions and instructions becomes more commensurate. It is requisite, therefore, that discipline should accord with these three parts: and, in the first place, that it should perfect us through rectitude of manners; in the next place, through admonition and precepts; and, in the third place, that it should excite our innate reasons, and purify the knowledge which essentially subsists in our souls, through reminiscence. Such then are the genera, and such the order of perfection adapted to souls falling into bodies. These things then being admitted, the third of these parts, viz. the rational nature, acquires perfection through discipline and invention. For the soul is essentially self-motive, but, in consequence of communicating with the body, participates in a certain respect of alter-motion. For, as it imparts to the body the last image of self-motion, so it receives the representation of alter-motion, through its habitude about the body. Through the power of self-motion therefore the soul acquires, and is inventive and prolific of reasons and sciences; but, through its representation of alter-motion, it requires to be excited by others. More perfect souls, however, are more inventive; but the more imperfect are indigent of external assistance. For, some are more self-motive, and are less replete with a subordinate nature; but others are less self-motive, and are more passive from a corporeal nature. As they advance however in perfection, are excited from body, and collect their powers from matter, they become more prolific, and more inventive of the things about which they were before unprolific and dubious, through the sluggishness and privation of life proceeding from matter, and the sleep of generation. We therefore, thus preserving the medium of a rational essence, can assign the causes of the more imperfect and perfect habits in the soul; and we say, that such are the paths of the perfection of souls. But those who do not preserve this medium, but either rise to that which is better, or decline to that which is worse, fall off from the truth respecting these particulars. For we do not admit their arguments who say, that the soul coming into a moist body, and being thence darkened, is stupid from the beginning; but that, this moisture becoming exhaled, through the innate heat, and possessing greater symmetry, the power of intellectual prudence in the soul is rejuvenized. For this mode of perfection is corporeal and material, and supposes that the perfection of the soul is consequent to the temperament of the body; though prior to the elements, and prior to the whole of generation, the soul had a subsistence, and was a life unmingled with body and nature. Nor, again, do we assent to those who say that the soul is a portion of the divine essence; that this portion is similar to the whole, and is always perfect; and that tumult and passions subsist about the animal. For those who assert these things make the soul ever-perfect, and ever-scientific, at no time requiring reminiscence, and always impassive, and free from the defilement of evil. Timæus, however, says, that our essence does not subsist entirely from the first genera, in the same manner as the souls superior to ours, but from such as are second and third. And Socrates, in the Phædrus, says that our powers are mingled with that which is contrary to good, and are filled with opposition to each other; and that, through this, sometimes the better and sometimes the worse parts are victorious. But what occasion is there to say more on this subject, since Socrates himself says, in that dialogue, that the charioteer becomes depraved, and that through his depravity many souls become lame, and many lose their wings, though the charioteering power (ηνιοχωτικη δυναμις) is one of the more venerable powers of the soul? For it is this which has a reminiscence of divine natures, and which uses second and third powers as ministrant to reminiscence. These things, therefore, are clearly asserted in the Phædrus. As we have said, then, the measures of the soul are to be preserved; and the reasons concerning its perfection are neither to be referred to it from corporeal natures, nor from such as are divine; that thus we may be fit interpreters of Plato, and not distort the words of the philosopher by forcing them to a coincidence with our own opinion. Since, therefore, the soul is at one time imperfect, and is again perfected, and becomes oblivious of divine natures, and again remembers them, it is evident that time contributes to its perfection. For how could it change from folly to wisdom, and in short to virtue from vice, unless it made these mutations in time? For all mutation subsists in time. And thus much concerning the perfection of the soul in general. From what has been said, then, we may collect that he who knows what is just passes from ignorance to a knowledge of it; and that he neither has the reason of the just always at hand, in the same manner as the natures superior to man (for we are born at first imperfect), nor again that the knowledge of it arrives to us through the mutation of the body. For our essence is not corporeal, nor composed from material genera. It remains, therefore, that either discipline or invention must precede knowledge; and Alcibiades is very properly requested to tell who was the cause of his acquiring discipline, and whence he knows what the just is, if he does know. For it is necessary, as we have often said, that discipline should be the leader of knowledge imparted by another; and a teacher, of discipline. For discipline is a motion; but all motion requires a moving cause. It requires therefore a teacher, for he is the cause of discipline. Can you tell me, then, at what time you did not imagine yourself to know what things are just and what are unjust? Proclus, in commenting on this passage, having remarked that investigation which precedes invention, excites the eye of the soul, and exercises it for the perception of truth, further observes as follows: “Again, the discourse proceeds from invention to simple ignorance; for no one would attempt to investigate that which he thinks he knows. It is necessary, therefore, that simple ignorance should be the beginning of investigation. For investigation is a desire of knowledge in things of which we suspect that we are ignorant. This being the case, it is necessary that the time should be known in which we suspected that we did not know: and hence Socrates desires Alcibiades to tell him the time in which he suspected his want of knowledge. For, as we have before observed, it is necessary that all such mutations should be measured by time. Hence the dæmoniacal Aristotle, also, here admits motion in the soul, and a mutation according to time. But that an association with the body, and a transition from vice to virtue, require time, is manifest to every one. As some however have said, that the soul when subsisting by itself does not require time for its energies, but that on the contrary it generates time; this assertion I think requires some consideration. For time is two-fold; one kind being that which is consubsistent with the natural life and corporeal motion of the universe, and an other kind that which pervades through the life of an incorporeal nature. This latter time, therefore, measures the periods of divine souls, and perfects the separate energies of ours. But the former, which is extended with a life according to nature, measures that life of our souls which subsists with body, but by no means that life of the soul which lives itself by itself.” But, by Jove, I was not ignorant of that point; for I clearly saw that I was injured. The young man here acknowledges that he has a suspicion of the knowledge of things just; and hence Socrates again asks him whether he learnt or discovered this knowledge. In consequence of this, Alcibiades confesses, that his knowledge was not acquired either by learning or invention, because he cannot mention any time of his ignorance, after which he either investigated or was taught justice. And it appears to me to be clearly shown by this, what that science is which we possess prior to all time, and what that is which is produced in time. For Socrates, looking to science in energy, inquires what was the time prior to this; but Alcibiades, possessing science essentially, through which he thinks that he knows what he does not know, cannot tell the time of its participation; for we possess it perpetually. So that, if Socrates speaks about one science, and Alcibiades about another, both these assertions are true, viz. that time precedes science, and that the time prior to its presence cannot be told: for of imperfect science there is no preceding time, but of that which subsists in energy and is perfect, there is. Well. But I was wrong in my answers when I supposed that I had found out that knowledge by myself, etc. Discipline being two-fold, and at one time proceeding from more excellent causes to such as are subordinate, according to which the demiurgus in the Timæus says to the junior Gods, “Learn what I now say to you indicating my desire;” but at another time proceeding from a cause externally moving, according to which we are accustomed to inscribe certain persons as teachers; and invention ranking between these; for it is subordinate to the knowledge imparted to the soul from the Gods, but is more perfect than reminiscence externally derived; — this being the case, Alcibiades had not any conception of discipline from a more excellent cause, except so far as looking to the science essentially inherent in us, in a dormant state, which is imparted from the Gods, and by which he was led to conjecture that he accurately knew the nature of the just. But coming to invention, which has a middle subsistence in the soul which also ranks as a medium, and being likewise shaken by reasoning, and shown that he had neither investigated nor could tell the time of his ignorance, which must necessarily subsist previous to inquiry, he now again comes to the second kind of discipline, and, being dubious with respect to the truly scientific teacher of things just, flies to the multitude, and their unstable life, and considers these as the leader of the knowledge of what is just. Here therefore Socrates, like another Hercules, cutting off the Hydra’s heads, shows that every multitude is unworthy to be believed respecting the knowledge of things just and unjust. The reasoning, indeed, appears to contribute but little to the purification of the young man; but, when accurately considered, it will be found to be directed to the same end. For, in the first place, Alcibiades, being ambitious, suspended his opinion from the multitude, and about this was filled with astonishment. Socrates therefore shows him, first, that the opinion of the multitude possesses no authority in the judgment and knowledge of things; and that it is not proper for him to adhere to it, whose view is directed to the beautiful: and, in the second place, that the multitude is the cause of false opinion, producing in us from our youth depraved imaginations and various passions. Scientific reasoning therefore is necessary, in order to give a right direction to that part of us which is perverted by an association with the multitude; to apply a remedy to our passive part, and to purify that which is filled with impurity; for thus we shall become adapted to a reminiscence of science. In the third place, Socrates shows, that in each of us, as he says, there is a many-headed wild beast, which is analogous to the multitude; for this is what the people is in a city, viz. the various and material form of the soul, which is our lowest part. The present reasoning therefore exhorts us to depart from boundless desire, and to lay aside the multitude of life, and our inward people, as not being a judge worthy of belief respecting the nature of things, nor a recipient of any whole science; for nothing irrational is naturally adapted to partake of science. In the fourth place, therefore, we say, that the present reasoning does not think fit to admit into science and an intellectual life an apostacy and flight from the one, together with diversity, and all-various division; but indicates that all these should be rejected as foreign from intellect and divine union. For it is requisite not only to fly from external, but also from the multitude in the soul; nor this alone, but also to abandon multitude of every kind. In the first place, therefore, we must fly from “the multitude of men going along in a herd,” as the oracle says, and must neither communicate with their lives, nor with their opinions. In the next place we must fly from multiform appetites, which divide us about body, and make us to be at different times impelled to different externals; at one time to irrational pleasures, and at another to actions indefinite, and which war on each other: for these fill us with penitence and evils. We must also fly from the senses which are nourished with us, and which deceive our dianoëtic part: for they are multiform, at different times are conversant with different sensibles, and assert nothing sane, nothing accurate, as Socrates himself says. We must likewise fly from imaginations, as figured, and divisible, and thus introducing infinite variety, and not suffering us to return to that which is impartible and immaterial; but, when we are hastening to apprehend an essence of this kind, drawing us down to passive intelligence. We must fly too from opinions; for these are various and infinite, tend to that which is external, are mingled with phantasy and sense, and are not free from contrariety; since our opinions also contend with each other, in the same manner as imaginations with imaginations, and one sense with another. But, flying from all these divisible and various forms of life, we should run back to science, and there collect in union the multitude of theorems, and comprehend all the sciences in one according bond. For there is neither sedition nor contrariety in the sciences with each other; but such as are secondary are subservient to those that are prior, and derive from them their proper principles. At the same time it is requisite here to betake ourselves from many sciences to one science, which is unhypothetical and the first, and to extend to this all the rest. But after science and the exercise pertaining to it, we must lay aside compositions, divisions, and multiform transitions, and transfer the soul to an intellectual life, and simple projections. For science is not the summit of knowledge, but prior to this is intellect; I do not only mean that intellect which is exempt from soul, but an illumination from thence, which is infused into the soul, and concerning which Aristotle says, that “it is intellect by which we know terms,” and Timæus, that “it is ingenerated in nothing else than soul.” Ascending therefore to this intellect, we must contemplate together with it an intelligible essence; with simple and indivisible projections surveying the simple, accurate, and indivisible genera of beings. But, after venerable intellect, it is necessary to excite the supreme hyparxis or summit of the soul, according to which we are one, and under which the multitude we contain is united. For as by our intellect we pass into contact with a divine intellect, so by our unity, and as it were the flower of our essence, it is lawful to touch the first one, the source of union to all things. For the similar is every where to be comprehended by the similar; objects of science by science; intelligibles by intellect; and the most united measures of beings, by the one of the soul. And this is the very summit of our energies. According to this we become divine, flying from all multitude, verging to our own union, becoming one, and energizing uniformly. And thus proceeding through the gradations of knowledge, you may see the rectitude of the Socratic exhortation. But if you are willing also to consider the admonition according to the objects of knowledge, fly from all sensible things; for they are divulsed from each other, are divisible, and perfectly mutable, and therefore cannot be apprehended by genuine knowledge. From these, therefore, transfer yourself to an incorporal essence: for every thing sensible has an adventitious union, and is of itself dissipated, and full of infinity. Hence also its good is divisible and adventitious, is distant from itself and discordant, and possesses its hypostasis in a foreign seat. Having therefore ascended thither, and being established among incorporeals, you will behold the order pertaining to soul above bodies, self-motive and self-energetic, and subsisting in and from itself, but at the same time multiplied, and anticipating in itself a certain representation of an essence divisible about bodies. There likewise you will see an all-various multitude of habitudes of reasons, analogies, bonds, wholes, and parts, circles characterized by the nature of soul, a variety of powers, and a perfection neither eternal nor at once wholly stable, but evolved according to time, and subsisting in discursive energies: for such is the nature of soul. After the multitude in souls, extend yourself to intellect, and the intellectual kingdoms, that you may apprehend the union of things, and become a spectator of the nature of intellect. There behold an essence abiding in eternity, a fervid life and sleepless intellection, to which nothing of life is wanting, and which does not desire the chariot of time to the perfection of its nature. When you have surveyed these, and have also seen by how great an interval they are superior to souls, inquire whether there is any multitude there, and if intellect, since it is one, is likewise all-perfect, and if multiform as well as uniform: for you will find that it thus subsists. Having therefore learnt this, and beheld intellectual multitude, indivisible and united, betake yourself again to another principle, and prior to intellectual essences survey the unities of intellects, and an union exempt from wholes. Here abiding, relinquish all multitude, and you will arrive at the fountain of the good. You see then that the present reasoning affords us no small assistance, in exhorting us to fly from the multitude; and how it contributes to all the salvation of the soul, if we direct our attention to the multitude which pervades through all things. The moll beautiful principle therefore of our perfection is to separate ourselves from external multitude, and from the multitude in the appetites of the soul, and in the indefinite motions of opinion. From hence also it is evident that souls do not collect their knowledge from sensibles, nor from things partial and divisible discover the whole and the one; but that they call forth discipline inwardly, and correct the imperfection of the phænomena. For it is not fit to think that things which have in no respect a real subsistence should be the leading causes of knowledge in the soul; and that things which oppose each other, which require the reasonings of the soul, and are ambiguous, should precede science, which has a sameness of subsistence; nor that things which are variously mutable should be generative of reasons which are established in unity; nor that things indefinite 1hould be the causes of definite intelligence, It is not proper, therefore, that the truth of things eternal should be received from the many, nor the discrimination of universals from sensibles, nor a judgment respecting what is good from irrational natures; but it is requisite that the soul entering within herself should investigate in herself the true and the good, and the eternal reasons of things. For the essence of the soul is full of these, but they are concealed in the oblivion produced by generation. Hence the soul in investigating truth looks to externals, though she essentially contains it in herself, and, deserting her own essence, explores the good in things foreign to its nature. From hence, then, the beginning of the knowledge of ourselves is derived. For, if we look to the multitude of men, we shall never see the one form of them, in consequence of its being shadowed over by the multitude, division, discord, and all-various mutation of its participants; but if we convert ourselves to our own essence, we shall there survey without molestation the one reason and nature of men. Very properly, therefore, does Socrates separate far from a survey of the multitude, the soul that is about to know what man truly is, and previous to a speculation of this kind purifies from impeding opinions. For multitude is an impediment to a conversion of the soul into herself, and to a knowledge of the one form of things. For, in material concerns, variety obscures unity, difference sameness, and dissimilitude similitude; since forms here do not subsist without confusion, nor are the more excellent unmingled with the baser natures. To no good teachers have you recourse for the origin of your knowledge, etc. Proclus in commenting on this part observes: “No one ought to wonder, if, when we say that what is natural is more abundant than what is contrary to nature, and that the latter is contracted into a narrow space, but the former has dominion in the universe, yet at the same time we assert that the greater part of mankind is destitute of science, and vicious, and that but a few are scientific. For a life in conjunction with body and generation is not natural to souls; but on the contrary a separate, immaterial, and incorporeal life is properly adapted to them. When therefore they are conversant with generation, they resemble those that inhabit a pestilent region; but when they live beyond generation, they resemble, as Plato says, those that dwell in meadows. Hence, as it is not wonderful that in pestilential places the diseased should be more numerous than the healthy; in like manner we ought not to wonder that in generation souls obnoxious to passions and full of depravity abound more than those of a contrary description. But, it will be wonderful if some souls invested with these bodies, confined in these bonds, and surrounded with such mutation,should be found sober, pure, and free from perturbation. For, is it not astonishing that the soul should live immaterially in things material, and preserve itself undefiled amidst mortal natures? and that, having drunk from the envenomed cup it should not be laid asleep by the oblivious draught? For oblivion, error, and ignorance resemble an envenomed potion, which draws down souls into the region of dissimilitude. Why therefore should you wonder that many according to life are wolves, many are swine, and many are invested with some other form of irrational animals? For the region about the earth is in reality the abode of Circe; and many souls through immoderate desire are ensnared by her enchanted bowl.” And must not all those who have the knowledge of any thing agree together on that subject, etc. Proclus on this part having observed that it is requisite to consider dissension as an argument of ignorance, and concord as an argument of knowledge, for all those that know the truth do not disagree with each other, after this adds as follows: “But this to some may appear to be false; since those that accord with each other do not all of them possess a scientific knowledge of that respecting which they agree. For, in the present time, the multitude through the want of science accord with each other in denying the existence of the Gods. In answer to this doubt, we reply in the first place, that the depraved man cannot accord with himself; for it is necessary, being vicious, that he should be in sedition with his own life; perceiving indeed the truth through his rational nature, but through passions and material phantasies being led to ignorance and contention with himself. The atheist therefore and intemperate man, according to their dianoëtic part, which is adapted to a divine nature, and which is of a beneficent destiny, assert things temperate and divine; but, according to their desires and phantasies, they are atheistically and intemperately affected. And, in short, according to the irrational soul, they introduce war in themselves, and all-various perturbation. Every vicious man therefore is discordant with himself; and this being the case, he is much more so with others. For, how can he consent with those external to himself, who is seditiously affected towards himself? All atheistical, intemperate, and unjust men, therefore, dissent with each other, and we can never be harmoniously disposed. while we are unscientific. “This however is attended with much doubt: for, if dissension is an argument of the want of science, we must say that philosophers are unscientific, since they also disagree with each other, subvert the hypotheses of each other, and patronize different systems. This doubt may be dissolved by saying that dissension is two-fold, one kind being the dissonance of the ignorant, both with themselves and with each other, and the other of the ignorant with the scientific; for both these belong to the ignorant, but by no means to the scientific, since they accord with themselves. Nor do the scientific disagree with the unscientific; for, on the contrary, they perfect and adorn them, and call them upwards to their own order; but it is the unscientific who separate themselves from the scientific. For through the dissonance in themselves they dissent from those that are better than themselves. Those that are endued with knowledge, therefore, and those that are deprived of it, do not disagree with each other; nor, in short, must it be said that the scientific differ. Hence the doubt is very far from affecting true philosophers: for these through similitude and sameness are united to each other; and being allotted a knowledge entirely exempt from the unscientific, neither are they discordant with them. “But the cause of the concord of the scientific is, first, the definite nature of things, and the criteria of knowledge, being the same with all men; and secondly, because, in the first principles of things, intellect is united to itself, and hence every thing which participates of intellect participates of unity. Science therefore is an illumination of intellect, but concord of the one: for it is a union of things different. And hence it is necessary that those which participate of the same science should accord with each other; for dissension and discord fall off from the one.” Are you sensible that what you said last was not fairly said, Alcibiades? etc. If the principal end of this dialogue is to lead us to the knowledge of ourselves, and to show that our essence consists in forms and reasons, that it produces all sciences from itself, and knows in itself every thing divine, and the forms of nature; the present passage, which evinces that the cause of all the preceding answers and conclusions is in Alcibiades, must greatly contribute to this end. For the soul does not possess an adventitious knowledge of things, nor, like an unwritten tablet, does it externally receive the images of divine ideas. Now, therefore, Alcibiades begins to know himself, and also to know that he is converted to himself; and knowing his own energy and knowledge, he becomes one with the thing known. This mode of conversion, therefore, leads the soul to the contemplation of its science. Hence it is necessary, that the soul should first receive a knowledge of herself; in the second place, that she should consider the powers which she is allotted; and, in the third place, how she is impelled to ascend from things more imperfect as far as to first causes. Alcibiades, therefore, is now converted through energy to energy, and, through this, to that which energizes. For, at the same time, the subject becomes apparent, which is generative of its proper energies. But, again, through energy he is converted to power, and through this again to essence: for powers are nearer to essence, and finally connect energy with essence. Hence, all these become one and concur with each other, essence being in energy, and energy becoming essential; for essence becomes intellectual in energy, and energy becomes connate to essence according to its perfection. Again: since ignorance is involuntary to all men, and essentially an ignorance of themselves and of things the most honourable; hence, to ancient and wise men, the method through arguments, which places false opinions parallel to such as are true, appeared to be most useful for the purpose of liberating the soul from this ignorance; since it unfolds the discord of false, and the concord of true opinions with each other. For, when the passions are shown to be in opposition with opinions, and, again, the passions with each other, and after the same manner opinions, then the depravity of ignorance becomes most conspicuous; and he who is ignorant perceives his own calamity, and rejoices to be liberated from so great an evil. When therefore any one is not only convinced by arguments that he is ignorant in things of the greatest consequence, but is also confuted by himself, then he in a still greater degree rejoices in and embraces the confutation, and multiplies the remedy produced by it. If, therefore, Socrates in his dialectic conversations evinces that it is the same person who answers and is interrogated, and that the answers do not proceed from the interrogator who appears to confute; it is perfectly evident that he who is thus confuted is confuted by himself, and does not suffer this externally; so that this mode of cure is most appropriate. For by how much the more familiar it appears, by so much the more is the weight and pain of it diminished, and its gentleness and benefit extended; since every thing familiar or domestic is more efficacious as a remedy. In the third place, we again say that irrational animals are governed by external impulse, being deprived of the power of governing and preserving themselves; but the human soul through its self-motive and self-energetic peculiarity is naturally adapted to energize about itself, to move itself, and to impart to itself good. The confutation therefore which originates from ourselves is adapted to the essence of the soul; and the reasoning which evinces that he who answers is the same with the speaker, evidently accords with our essence and energies. For our purification is not effected externally, but originates inwardly from the soul herself. For all evil is external and adventitious to the soul; but good is internal, as the soul is naturally boniform; and by how much the more perfect she becomes, by so much the more does she receive a self-moved life, since she becomes externally moved through body being suspended from her nature, and through a corporeal sympathy. Hence, whatever she receives externally remains situated out of her, as a phantasm, and an object of sense; but those things alone reside in her which operate from herself in herself, and which are produced by her. She is therefore purified by herself; since reason also beginning from itself ends in itself. But, if he who answers is confuted, he who is confuted is purified; and he who is purified purifies himself according to the idiom of the essence of the soul; he who answers, certainly purifies himself, and is liberated from ignorance, applying confutation to himself, which accords with the self-motive nature of the soul. Further still: this reasoning sufficiently confirms the doctrine, that disciplines are reminiscences; for this is a great argument in favour of such a dogma, that those who answer, assert all things from themselves; and sufficiently proves that souls draw forth reasons from themselves, only require an exciting cause, and are not unwritten tablets receiving figures externally, but are ever written, the writer subsisting in the recesses of the soul. All men, however, cannot read what is written, their inward eye being buried in the oblivion of generation, through which also they become defiled with the passions. An ablation therefore of that which darkens is alone requisite; but there is no occasion for external and adventitious knowledge. For, the soul contains in herself the gates of truth, but they are barred by terrene and material forms. If therefore any one shall accurately demonstrate that souls are indeed moved by other things, but that they draw forth from themselves scientific answers, he will from this evince the truth of the Platonic assertion, that the soul knows all things, and only requires to be externally excited in order to answer scientifically. After another manner, likewise, the proposed theorem is adapted to Socrates. For, to purify one who requires such assistance, himself through himself, is the work of a dæmoniacal power; since dæmons do not act upon us externally, but govern us inwardly, as from the stern of a ship. Nor do they purify us as bodies, which are allotted an alter-motive nature, but they take care of us as self-motive beings. For thus they extend to us communications of good, and purifications from the passions. Socrates therefore, who with respect to Alcibiades ranks in the order of a good dæmon, shows him that he is confuted by no other than himself. In those assertions, was it not said that Alcibiades, etc. It is rightly said by the Stoics, that the man who is void of erudition accuses others, and not himself, as the causes of his infelicity; but that he who has made some advances in knowledge refers to himself the cause of all that he does or says badly; and that he who is properly disciplined, neither accuses himself nor others; since he does not neglect any thing that is requisite, but is himself the leader of appropriate invention. For these things are now clearly indicated to us in Alcibiades; since, labouring under two-fold ignorance, he does not accuse himself, but Socrates: but afterwards, when he is transferred to simple ignorance, he accuses himself of dissension, and not his leader; and if he ever became scientific, he would neither accuse himself nor another; for then nothing in him would be dissonant and unharmonized, but all the motions of his soul would be clear, all would be effable, all intellectual. For discord in the multitude with themselves very properly happens, because they receive some things from sense, others from the phantasy, and others from opinion; some things from anger, and others from desire. For such like passions in men are not only excited from dogmas, as the Stoics say; but, on the contrary, on account of such passions and appetites, they change their opinions, and receive such as are depraved in the place of such as are worthy. These therefore, from many principles and powers of a worse condition, receiving in themselves multiform motions, possess a soul dissentient and unharmonized. But the scientific from one principle prior to themselves receive the whole of knowledge: for intellect imparts to them principles; and true dogmas are the progeny of intellect, subsisting in conjunction with simplicity. From such a uniform principle, therefore, all things accord with each other. Indeed, what is now said by Socrates very seasonably follows what has been demonstrated, and is referred to Alcibiades himself, representing him as accusing himself. For, in order to produce the most striking confutations, the ancients ascribed to other persons the most severe assertions; and this method they adopted in common. Thus Homer refers the reproving of Achilles to Peleus, and Demosthenes the reprehending of the Athenians to the Greeks in common: and in like manner Plato refers to laws and philosophy the reproving of his hearers. For confutations are diminished when they are transferred to others who are absent from us. But when he who confutes is not another, but a man confutes himself, then the confutation appears, to the confuted, to be much less painful. This therefore Socrates effects. For he represents Alcibiades confuted by Alcibiades; mitigating by this method the vehemence of the reproof, and unfolding the alliance of the reprover to the reproved. Proclus concludes his comment on this passage, as follows: “That ignorance is a mania of an extended duration, and especially two-fold ignorance, is a paradox, but is at the same time most true. For, as he who is insane is ignorant both of himself and others, this also is the case with him who labours under two-fold ignorance. And, as to the insane a physician is of no use though present, so neither is the man of science, when present, beneficial to the doubly ignorant. For these think that they are no less knowing than the truly scientific; and as the Athenian guest says, they inflame their soul with insolence, in consequence of thinking that they do not want the assistance of any one, and that they may act in every respect in the same manner as the scientific.” For I suppose that justice and interest are not the same thing, etc. The dogma, that the just is the same with the profitable, contains the whole of moral philosophy. For those who suppose these to be different, must necessarily admit, that felicity receives its completion from externals; since, in these, the profitable appears very often to be separated from the just. But those who consider both to be the same, and acknowledge that the true good of man is in the soul, must necessarily refer each of us to soul. Hence Socrates thinks, that this is the beginning of the whole of the philosophy concerning the end of man, and of the knowledge of ourselves. But the Epicureans and Stoics, who place the end of man in a life according to nature, and those who give completion to our good from things necessary, as the Peripatetics, cannot genuinely preserve the sameness of the just and the profitable. And, in like manner, this cannot be effected by those who make man to be an animated body, or a composite from body and soul. For some fly from wounds and death unjustly, that the animal may be saved; since the good of every animal consists in a subsistence according to nature; so that, in this case, the profitable differs from the just. But those who place the end of man in soul unindigent of corporeal possessions, and who assert that man is a soul using the body as an instrument, these admit that the just is the same with the profitable: for they place both in the soul, and separate the passions of the instruments from those by whom they are employed. Suppose interest to be a thing ever so different from justice, etc. Proclus in commenting on this part observes, that souls express the forms of those things to which they conjoin themselves. “Hence,” says he, “when they are assimilated to intellect, they vindicate to themselves sameness and immutability, both in their dogmas and in their life; but when they become agglutinated to generation, they always pursue what is novel and puerile, at different times are led to different opinions, and have no percep1ion of the stable reasons of the soul. But when Socrates says, ‘One must bring you a pure and immaculate proof;’ this, which is a metaphor taken from garments, indicates, that souls of a naturally more excellent disposition possessing a conception of the immaculate purity of the gods, and carrying this about them in images, are studious of apparent purity; since the essence of divine vestments is undefiled, and an immaterial purity, in which it is requisite souls should be instructed, purifying their connate vehicles, and preserving their garments uncontaminated by generation, and not being wholly attentive to the purity of their external vestments.” Why, my good friend, suppose me to be the assembly and the people, etc. Proclus here observes, that it is the province of the same science to persuade one person and many; which assertion is, as it were, a certain hymn and encomium of science. For the great excellence of science is evident in this, that according to an imitation of intellect the same science fills an individual, and, at the same time, all that receive it; that it is indivisible, and, being established in itself, perfects all its participants; and that, like intellect, it communicates itself to all, and is separate from each. These things evince that our essence is separate from body, and abides in itself, since science, which is our perfection, is allotted such a power. For corporeal powers diminish themselves in their communications; but science, remaining one and the same, sufficient to itself and undiminished, imparts itself, in a similar manner, to one and to many. Thus, too, the soul is present to the whole body and all its parts, though one part participates it in a different manner from another. This is said, because Alcibiades had said, just before: “No harm, I think, will come to me that way,” according to opinion, and not according to science. For the οι μαντικοι, or the prophetic, are doxastic, and not scientific; but thole that are not only μαντικοι but, prophets, are scientific, and possess something better than human science. It also indicates, that the impulses of more naturally excellent souls are excited in a certain respect by more excellent natures. Hence they accomplish much good contrary to expectation, though energizing without science. Tell me then, do you say, that some just actions are advantageous, etc. The proposed inquiry concerning things just and profitable, whether they are the same, or are divided from each other according to the diversity of subjects, contributes to the whole of philosophy, and adheres to the whole truth of things. For all ethical discussion and the invention of the end of man depend on this dogma, and the speculation of our essence becomes through this especially apparent. For, if the just is, in reality, the same with the profitable, and these are not separated from each other, our good will consist in virtue alone; and neither will the particulars which are beheld about the body contribute any thing as goods to the felicity of human life; nor, by a much greater reason, will things external to the body procure the full perfection of good; but one only good is established in souls themselves, unmingled, pure, immaterial, and is neither filled with corporeal nor with external goods or evils. But if there is something just, as according to Alcibiades there is, but unprofitable, and again something profitable but unjust, then apparent goods, such as health and riches, must necessarily give completion to a happy life. For mankind perform many things for the sake of these, and, surveying the good which they contain, abandon the love of justice. And to these, indeed, those who for the sake of what is just despise the flourishing condition of the body, and the acquisition of wealth, appear to act justly, and in a manner laudable, to the multitude, but by no means profitably, because they do not perceive that the profitable is stably seated in the soul herself, but consider it as situated in things scattered, and which have an external subsistence, and are necessary rather than good. But these men give phantasy and sense the precedency to intellect and science. Again: if the just is the same with the profitable, according to the assertion of Socrates, then the essence of man will be defined according to the soul herself; but the body will neither be a part of us, nor will give completion to our nature. For, if the body gives completion to the man, the good of the body will be human good, and the beautiful will be useless not only to the body, but to the man; but the prerogatives of the parts, and such things as are contrary, will pervade to the nature of the whole, since the whole will be allotted its being in the parts. The passions of the instruments, however, do not change the habits of those that use them, though they are often impediments to their energies. So that, if the just is the same with the profitable, where the just is, there also will the profitable be. But the just subsists in the soul, so that the profitable also will be in the soul. But where our good particularly resides, there also we possess our being. For our essence is not in one thing, and our perfection according to another, but where the form of man is, there also is the perfection of man. In soul therefore is the man. For every being possesses the good conjoined with its essence; since the first being is for the sake of the good, and subsist about the good. Where being therefore is to all things, there also well-being resides. But it is impossible for man to be body, and to possess his perfection in something else external to body. It is likewise impossible that man should be both body and soul, and that human good should at the same time be defined according to soul alone. Further still: the desire of good preserves those by whom it is desired: for, as Socrates says in the Republic, good preserves, and evil corrupts every thing. If therefore, possessing good in the soul, we also in soul possess our being, the desire of good will be natural to us; but if our good is in soul, but our being consists from body and soul conjoined, it must necessarily happen that we shall desire the corruption of ourselves, if good is immaterial and external to the body. However, as nothing, so neither does he who doubts the truth of this position desire his own destruction. That the proposed inquiry therefore contributes to moral philosophy, and to the invention of the nature of man, is, I think, perfectly apparent. That it also affords wonderful auxiliaries to theology we shall learn, if we call to mind that the just contains the whole essence of souls; for, these having their subsistence according to all analogies conformably to justice, it is evident that these distinguish its essence and powers. But, again, the beautiful characterizes an intellectual essence. Hence, as Aristotle says, intellect is lovely and desirable; for all things that participate of intellect are beautiful; and matter, which of itself is void of beauty, because it is formless, at the same time that it is invested with figures and forms, receives also the representations of the power of beauty. Lastly, the good characterizes the whole of a divine essence. For every thing divine according to a divine hyparxis is good; since the Gods are the causes of being; and if they cause all things to subsist about themselves, they are essentially good, and illuminate all things with good. The good therefore is bound in souls according to the just, through the beautiful; and every order of souls is united to the Gods through intellectual essences as media; so that an incorporeal nature is one and uniform, and the whole of it verges to the good; but division is in the images of this nature, which are not able to express primary causes according to their indivisible essence. From these things therefore it is evident that the present demonstration contributes in no small degree to theology, and, as I may say, to the whole of philosophy. But the whole syllogism which collects that the just is profitable is as follows: Every thing just is beautiful: Every thing beautiful is good: Every thing just, therefore, is good. But the good is the same with the profitable: Every thing just, therefore, is profitable. This syllogism is primarily in the first figure, comprehending the minor in the major terms, and evincing the major terms reciprocating with the minor. For, again, beginning from the good, we shall be able to form the same conclusion. Every thing good is beautiful: Every thing beautiful is just: Every thing good, therefore, is just. But the profitable is the same with the good: The just, therefore, is the same with the profitable. In the first principles of things, indeed, the good is exempt from the beautiful, and the beautiful is placed above justice. For the first of these is prior to intelligibles, established in inaccessible retreats: the second subsists occultly in the first of intelligibles, and more clearly in the extremity of that order: and the third of these subsists uniformly in the first order of intellectuals, and secondarily at the extremity of the intellectual progression of Gods. And, again, the good subsists in the Gods, the beautiful in intellect, and the just in souls. Whence the just is indeed beautiful, but not every thing beautiful is just. And every thing beautiful is good, but the fountain of all good is expanded above all beauty. And the just indeed is good, being conjoined with the good through beauty as the medium; but the good is beyond both. Thus also you will find, by looking to the last of things, that the material cause, although it is good, is base, and void of beauty: for it participates indeed of the one, but is destitute of form. And a sensible nature possesses indeed a representation of beauty, but not of justice. For, as Socrates says in the Phædrus: “there is no splendour of justice and temperance in these sensible similitudes; but beauty has alone this privilege, that it is the most apparent, and the most lovely of all things.” Hence where the just is, there also is the beautiful; and where the beautiful, there also is the good, whether you are willing to look to the first principles, or to the illuminations of them as far as to the last of things. For all things participate of the good; for it is the principle of all: but the beautiful is alone received by the participants of form; and the just by those natures alone that participate of soul. But in the middle centre of all things, such as the soul is, all these are connected with each other, the good, the beautiful, the just. And the good of it is beautiful, and the just is at the same time beautiful and good. Nor is the assertion true in this triad only, but also in many other particulars. Thus, for instance, in the principles of things being is beyond life, and life is beyond intellect. And again, in the effects of these, not every thing which participates of being participates also of life, nor every thing which participates of life participates also of intellect; but, on the contrary, all intellectual natures live, and are, and vital natures partake of being. All these however are united with each other in the soul. Hence, being in it is life and intellect; life is intellect and essence; and intellect is essence and life. For there is one simplicity in it, and one subsistence; nor are life and intelligence there adventitious; but its intellect is vital and essential, its life is essentially intellectual, and its essence is vital and intellectual. All things therefore are every where in it, and it is one from all things. According to the same reasoning, therefore, its good is replete with beauty and justice; its beauty is perfect and good, and entirely just; and the just in it is mingled with beauty and good. The subject indeed is one, but the reasons are different. And again, neither must we consider the identity of those three according to reasons, nor their difference according to the subject; but we must preserve the reasons of them different from each other, and the subject one, because every where these three are consubsistent with each other, according to the energies of the soul. For, as the reasons of the virtues are different, but it is one thing which partakes of them all, and it is not possible to participate of justice and be destitute of temperance, or to participate of these without the other virtues; in like manner this triad is united with itself, and every thing good is at the same time full of the beautiful, and the just, and each of the latter is introduced in conjunction with the former. Hence Socrates conjoins the just with the good, through the beautiful: for this is their medium and bond. But the most beautiful bond, says Timæus, is that which makes itself and the things bound eminently one. The beautiful, therefore, much more than any other bond collects and unites those two, the just and the good. And thus much concerning the whole demonstration. If, however, other demonstrations are requisite of this proposition, which says, Every thing just is beautiful, let us make it more evident through many arguments. Since therefore the soul is a multitude, and one part of it is first, another middle, and another last, when do we say that justice is produced in the soul? Is it when the middle, or the last part, endeavours to rule over the better part, or when the first governs the middle, and the middle the last? But, if when the worse rule over the more excellent, the worse will not be naturally such: for that to which dominion belongs is naturally more excellent, and more honourable. If, therefore, it is impossible that the same thing can be naturally better and worse, it is necessary that the just should then be beheld in souls themselves, when that which is best in them governs the whole life, and the middle being in subjection to the better part, has dominion over the last part. For then each of the parts ranks according to its desert, the one governing with royal authority; another acting as a satellite, and another ministering to the powers of the more excellent. The just therefore is naturally distributive of that which is adapted to each of the parts of the soul. It is also the cause to each of performing its proper duty, and of possessing its proper rank, and thus preserves good order about the whole soul. But order and symmetry are naturally beautiful. Justice, therefore, is the source of beauty to the soul, and is itself beautiful. The just however is two-fold; one consisting in contracts, and which regards arithmetical equality, and the other in distributions, and which entirely requires geometric equality. In contracts, therefore, it observes arithmetical equality, that we may not act unjustly by our associate, receiving from him more than is proper; but by fitly distributing unequal things to such as are unequal, it observes geometric equality, so that such as is the difference of persons with respect to each other, such also may be the difference as to worth of the things distributed, to each other. Every thing just, therefore, is, as we have said, equal; but every thing equal is beautiful. For the unequal is base, and void of symmetry, since it is also incongruous. Every thing just, therefore, is beautiful. In the third place, beauty no otherwise subsists in bodies, than when form rules over matter; for matter is void of beauty and base; and when form is vanquished by matter, it is filled with baseness, and a privation of form in consequence of becoming similar to the subject nature. If, therefore, in the soul our intellectual part ranks in the order of form, but our irrational part, of matter (for intellect and reason belong to the coordination of bound, but the irrational nature to that of infinity, since it is naturally without measure and indefinite) — this being the case, it necessarily follows that beauty must be perceived in the soul when reason has dominion, and the irrational forms of life are vanquished by reason and prudence. The just, indeed, gives empire to reason, and servitude to the irrational nature. For it distributes to each what is fit; dominion to the ruling power, and servile obedience to the ministrant part; since the artificer of the universe subjected to us the irrational nature, and prepared it as a vehicle to our reason. The just therefore is naturally beautiful, and is the cause of beauty to the soul. In the fourth place, the just is perfect and definite; since the unjust is imperfect and indefinite, wanders infinitely and never stops, and secretly withdraws itself from the boundary of justice. The just, therefore, introduces measure and bound to whatever it is present to, and renders all things perfect. Hence it is the source of beauty to the soul: for the beautiful is connate with the perfect and the measured, because deformity subsists with the unmeasured and the indefinite. The just, therefore, is at one and the same time perfect, moderate, bounded, and beautiful; and these are not naturally separated from each other. In the fifth place, the demiurgus adorned this universe by justice; for he bound it with the most beautiful of bonds, and rendered it indissoluble through the power of this analogy, which holds all its parts together, and makes it every where friendly to itself. But that which is similar to the universe, the most beautiful of things visible, is certainly itself beautiful. The just, therefore, is also according to this reasoning beautiful, from the nature of which it is by no means disjoined, — That every thing just, therefore, is beautiful, is from hence apparent. The proposition consequent to this, that every thing beautiful is good, Socrates extends, but Alcibiades does not admit. This was owing to his considering the beautiful to be beautiful by position, and not by nature. Hence he also grants that the just is beautiful; for it is thus considered by the multitude, and separates the beautiful from the good. For to the former of these he gives a subsistence merely from opinion, asserting that the beautiful is the becoming, and what is generally admitted: but to the latter he gives a subsistence according to truth; for he does not say that the good is from position. This proposition, therefore, that every thing beautiful is good, we shall show to be in every respect true. This then is apparent to every one, that the beautiful is naturally lovely, since last beauty which is borne along in images is lovely, and agitates souls at the first view of it, in consequence of retaining a vestige of divine beauty. For this privilege, says Socrates in the Phædrus, beauty alone possesses, to be the most apparent and the most lovely of all things. Indeed, the beautiful (το καλον) is naturally lovely, whether it is so denominated δια το καλειν, because it calls others to itself, or δια το κηλειν, because it charms those that are able to behold it. Hence also love is said to lead the lover to beauty. But every thing lovely is desirable; for love is a robust and vehement desire of something. And whatever loves desires something of which it is indigent. But every thing desirable is good, whether it is truly or only apparently good. For many things which are not good are desirable, because they appear as good to those that desire them. It is clearly therefore shown by Socrates, in the Meno, that he who knows evil, such as it is in its own nature, cannot desire it. Everything desirable therefore is good; and if it be principally desirable, it will also be principally good. But if it be only apparently desirable, such also will be its good. In short, in each of the terms this is to be added, viz. the apparent, or the true. For, if a thing is apparently beautiful, it is also apparently lovely and desirable, and its good is conjoined with beauty of such a kind. But if it is naturally beautiful, it is also naturally lovely and desirable. What then in this care will the desirable be? Shall we say, evil? But it is impossible when known that it should be desirable by any being; for all beings desire good. But there is no desire of evil, nor yet of that which is neither good nor evil; for every thing of this kind is performed for the sake of something else, and is not the end of any thing. But every thing desirable is an end; and, if any thing evil is desirable, it must be so because it appears to be good. In like manner, if any thing not beautiful is beloved, it is loved because it appears to be beautiful. If, therefore, every thing beautiful is lovely, but every thing lovely is desirable, and every thing desirable is good, hence every thing beautiful is good. And, reciprocally, every thing good is desirable. This then is immediately evident. Every thing desirable is lovely: for love and desire are directed to the same object; but they differ from each other according to the remission or vehemence of the desire; since Socrates, also, in the Banquet, leads love to the good through the beautiful, and says that the good is lovely, as well as the beautiful. If therefore every good is desirable, every thing desirable is lovely, and every thing lovely is beautiful (for love is proximate to beauty), hence every thing good is beautiful. Let no one therefore say that the good is above beauty nor that the lovely is two-fold; for we do not now discourse concerning the first principles of things, but concerning the beautiful and the good which are in us. The good, therefore, which is in us, is at the same time both desirable and lovely. — Hence we obtain the good through love, and a vehement pursuit of it. And if any one directs his attention to himself, he will perfectly perceive that this good excites in us a more efficacious love than sensible beauty. The good therefore is beautiful. Hence Diotima, in the Banquet, advises lovers to betake themselves, after sensible beauty, to the beauty in actions and studies, in the sciences and virtues, and, having exercised the amatory eye of the soul in these, to ascend from thence to intellect, and the primary and divine beauty which is there. Hence too we say that in these the good of the soul consists. For what is there in us more beautiful than virtue or science? Or what more base than the contraries to these? But what as to actions which are beautiful, etc. The multitude falsely think that wounds and death are evils. For what among these can be an evil to us whose essence consists in soul? since neither do the passions of instruments change the virtues of those that use them. Neither, therefore, does the carpenter, if his saw happens to be blunted, lose his art; nor, if our felicity consisted in the carpenter’s art, should we call any one unhappy who was deprived of his saw; since, as the soul has an instrument, so also we may perceive other instruments of the body, through which the body moves things external to it, the defects of which do not injure the good habit of the body. After the same manner, therefore, the passions of the body do not pervade to the soul; so that death, though it is an evil of the body, yet is not an evil of the soul. Hence, if the beauty of action is in the soul, and the evil of it in something else, it has not yet been shown that the same thing is beautiful and evil. Again, we may also logically prove that the essential is one thing, and the accidental another; and Socrates chooses this mode of solution as more known to the young man. For a brave action is essentially beautiful, but evil, if it is so, accidentally, because it happens to him who acts bravely to die. For let death, if you will, be among the number of evils; yet a brave action, so far as it is brave and therefore beautiful, is not evil, but it is evil only accidentally. The beautiful, therefore, is one thing, and evil another; nor is a thing so far as beautiful shown to be evil, but only accidentally on account of death. We may also say that he is ignorant of the essence of man who separates the good from the beautiful, and places the former in one thing, and the latter in another, referring the good to body, and the beautiful to the energy of the soul. Socrates, however, does not adopt this solution, because he has not yet demonstrated that our essence is separate from body. To a man therefore such as Alcibiades, who thought that the body gives completion to our essence, it was not yet possible to say that death, whether it is an evil or not, ought to be defined as one of the things accidental to man, and that he ought not to confound the good of the body with the good of man, nor refer the evil of the instrument to him by whom it is used. And thus much from the invaluable commentary of Proclus on this dialogue. The intelligent reader will doubtless regret with me that this Manuscript Commentary is nothing more than a fragment, as it scarcely extends to more than a third part of the Dialogue. From the indefatigable genius of Proclus, there can be no doubt but that he left it entire; but, like most of his other writings which are extant, it has been dreadfully mutilated either by the barbarous fraud of monks, or the ravages of time. The reader will not, I trust, hesitate to pronounce that the former of these may have been the cause of this mutilation, when he is informed that an impostor, who calls himself Dionysius the Areopagite, and who for many centuries was believed to have been contemporary with St. Paul, has in his Treatise on the Divine Names stolen entire chapters from one of the works of Proclus, one copy of which only is fortunately preserved in manuscript. This assertion I am able to prove.