Enneads

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 1 · volkmann page 84-86

Τὸ καλόν ἐστι μὲν ἐν ὄψει πλεῖστον, ἐστι δ’ ἐν ἀκοαῖς κατά τε λόγων συνθέσεις καὶ ἐν μουσικῇ ἁπάσῃ: καὶ γὰρ μέλη καὶ ῥυθμοί εἰσι καλοί: ἔστι δὲ καὶ προιοῦσι πρὸς τὸ ἄνω ἀπὸ τῆς αἰσθήσεως καὶ ἐπιτηδεύματα καλὰ καὶ πράξεις καὶ ἕξεις καὶ ἐπιστῆμαί τε καὶ τὸ τῶν ἀρετῶν κάλλος. εἰ δέ τι καὶ πρὸ τούτων, αὐτὸ δείξει. τί οὖν δὴ τὸ πεποιηκὸς καὶ τὰ σώματα καλὰ φαντάζεσθαι καὶ τὴν ἀκοὴν ἐπινεύειν ταῖς φωναῖς, ὡς καλαῖς; καὶ ὅσα ἐφεξῆς ψυχῆς ἔχεται, πῶς ποτε πάντα καλά; καὶ ἆρά γε ἑνὶ καὶ τῷ αὐτῷ καλὰ τὰ πάντα, ἢ ἄλλο μὲν ἐν σώματι (τὸ) κάλλος, ἄλλο δὲ ἐν ἄλλῳ; καὶ τίνα ποτὲ ταῦτα ἢ τοῦτο; τὰ μὲν γὰρ οὐ παρ’ αὐτῶν τῶν ὑποκειμένων καλά, οἷον τὰ σώματα, ἀλλὰ μεθέξει, τὰ δὲ καλὰ αὐτά, ὥσπερ ἀρετῆς ἡ φύσις. σώματα μὲν γὰρ τὰ αὐτὰ ὁτὲ μὲν καλά, ὁτὲ δὲ οὐ καλὰ φαίνεται, ὡς ἄλλου ὄντος τοῦ σώματα εἶναι, ἄλλου δὲ τοῦ καλά. τί οὖν ἐστι τοῦτο τὸ παρὸν τοῖς σώμασι; πρῶτον γὰρ περὶ τούτου σκεπτέον. τί οὖν ἐστιν, ὃ κινεῖ τὰς ὄψεις τῶν θεωμένων καὶ ἐπιστρέφει πρὸς αὐτὸ καὶ ἕλκει καὶ εὐφραίνεσθαι τῇ θέᾳ ποιεῖ; τοῦτο γὰρ εὑρόντες τάχ̓ ἂν ἐπιβάθρᾳ αὐτῷ χρώμενοι καὶ τὰ ἄλλα θεασαίμεθα. λέγεται μὲν δὴ παρὰ πάντων, ὡς εἰπεῖν, ὡς συμμετρία τῶν μερῶν πρὸς ἄλληλα καὶ πρὸς τὸ ὅλον τό τε τῆς εὐχροίας προστεθὲν τὸ πρὸς τὴν ὄψιν κάλλος ποιεῖ καὶ ἔστιν αὐτοῖς καὶ ὅλως τοῖς ἄλλοις πᾶσι τὸ καλοῖς εἶναι τὸ συμμέτροις καὶ μεμετρημένοις ὑπάρχειν: οἷς ἁπλοῦν οὐδέν, μόνον δὲ τὸ σύνθετον ἐξ ἀνάγκης καλὸν ὑπάρξει: τό τε ὅλον ἔσται καλὸν αὐτοῖς, τὰ δὲ μέρη ἕκαστα οὐχ ἕξει παρ’ ἑαυτῶν τὸ καλὰ εἶναι, πρὸς δὲ τὸ ὅλον συντελοῦντα, ἵνα καλὸν ᾖ: καίτοι δεῖ, εἴπερ [τὸ] ὅλον, καὶ τὰ μέρη καλὰ εἶναι: οὐ γὰρ δὴ ἐξ αἰσχρῶν, ἀλλὰ πάντα κατειληφέναι τὸ κάλλος. τά τε χρώματα αὐτοῖς τὰ καλά, οἷον καὶ τὸ τοῦ ἡλίου φῶς, ἁπλᾶ ὄντα καὶ οὐκ ἐκ συμμετρίας ἔχοντα τὸ κάλλος ἔξω ἔσται τοῦ καλὰ εἶναι. χρυσός τε δὴ πῶς καλόν; καὶ νυκτὸς ἡ ἀστραπὴ ἢ [τὰ] ἄστρα ὁρᾶσθαι τῷ καλόν; ἐπί τε τῶν φωνῶν ὡσαύτως τὸ ἁπλοῦν οἰχήσεται, καίτοι ἑκάστου φθόγγου πολλαχῇ τῷ ἐν τῷ ὅλῳ καλῷ καλοῦ καὶ αὐτοῦ ὄντος. ὅταν δὲ δὴ καὶ τῆς αὐτῆς συμμετρίας μενούσης ὁτὲ μὲν καλὸν τὸ αὐτὸ πρόσωπον, ὁτὲ δὲ μὴ φαίνηται, πῶς οὐκ ἄλλο δεῖ ἐπὶ τῷ συμμέτρῳ λέγειν τὸ καλὸν εἶναι, καὶ τὸ σύμμετρον καλὸν εἶναι δι’ ἄλλο; εἰ δὲ δὴ μεταβαίνοντες καὶ ἐπὶ τὰ ἐπιτηδεύματα καὶ τοὺς λόγους τοὺς καλοὺς τὸ σύμμετρον καὶ ἐπ’ αὐτῶν αἰτιῷντο, τίς ἂν λέγοιτο ἐν ἐπιτηδεύμασι συμμετρία καλοῖς ἢ νόμοις ἢ μαθήμασιν ἢ ἐπιστήμαις; θεωρήματα μὲν γὰρ σύμμετρα πρὸς ἄλληλα πῶς ἂν εἴη; εἰ δ’ ὅτι σύμφωνά ἐστι, καὶ κακῶν ἔσται ὁμολογία τε καὶ συμφωνία. τῷ γὰρ τὴν σωφροσύνην ἠλιθιότητα εἶναι τὸ τὴν δικαιοσύνην γενναίαν εἶναι εὐήθειαν σύμφωνον καὶ συνῳδὸν καὶ ὁμολογεῖ πρὸς ἄλληλα. κάλλος μὲν οὖν ψυχῆς ἀρετὴ πᾶσα καὶ κάλλος ἀληθινώτερον ἢ τὰ πρόσθεν: ἀλλὰ πῶς σύμμετρα; οὔτε γὰρ ὡς μεγέθη οὔτε ὡς ἀριθμοὶ σύμμετρα καίτοι πλειόνων μερῶν τῆς ψυχῆς ὄντων. ἐν ποίῳ γὰρ λόγῳ ἡ σύνθεσις ἢ ἡ κρᾶσις τῶν μερῶν ἢ τῶν θεωρημάτων; τὸ δὲ τοῦ νοῦ κάλλος μονουμένου τί ἂν εἴη;

Beauty is for the most part in what is seen, but it is in what is heard as well, both in the composition of words and in all music; for melodies and rhythms too are beautiful. And for those who go up from sense-perception toward what is above, there are beautiful pursuits also, and actions and dispositions and branches of knowledge, and the beauty of the virtues. Whether there is anything beautiful before these, the inquiry itself will show. What is it, then, that has made bodies appear beautiful and has made hearing assent to sounds as beautiful? And how is it that everything which belongs to soul, in the order that follows, is beautiful? Are all things beautiful by one and the same thing, or is beauty in a body one thing and something else in something else? And what are these, or what is this one thing? For some things are beautiful not from the underlying things themselves — bodies, for instance — but by participation, while others are beauties themselves, as the nature of virtue is. For the same bodies appear at one time beautiful and at another not beautiful, since to be bodies is one thing and to be beautiful another. What, then, is this that is present to bodies? For this must be considered first. What is it that moves the sight of those who behold, and turns them toward itself, and draws them, and makes them take delight in the seeing? For if we find this, we might perhaps use it as a step and so behold the rest. It is said by nearly everyone that it is the commensurability of the parts toward one another and toward the whole, with good colour added, that makes beauty to the sight; and that for these things, and for all other things generally, to be beautiful is to be commensurate and measured. On this view nothing simple will be beautiful, but of necessity only what is composite; and the whole will be beautiful for them, while the several parts will not have being beautiful from themselves, but will contribute toward the whole so that it may be beautiful. And yet, if the whole is beautiful, the parts must be beautiful too: for surely it is not out of ugly things, but beauty must have taken hold of them all. And for them the beautiful colours, such as the light of the sun, being simple and not having their beauty from commensurability, will fall outside being beautiful. And how is gold beautiful? And the lightning in the night, or the stars, beautiful to see? In the case of sounds likewise the simple will be gone, although each single note, in a beauty that is beautiful as a whole, is itself beautiful in many ways. And when, the same commensurability remaining, the same face appears at one time beautiful and at another not, must we not say that being beautiful is something other than the commensurate, and that the commensurate is beautiful through something else? And if, passing on to beautiful pursuits and beautiful words, they should allege the commensurate in these as well — what commensurability could be spoken of in beautiful pursuits, or laws, or studies, or branches of knowledge? How could theorems be commensurate with one another? And if it is because they agree, then there will be agreement and concord among bad things too: for the saying that self-control is silliness agrees and chimes and is in accord with the saying that justice is a noble simplicity. Beauty of soul, then, is every virtue, and a truer beauty than the things before it; but in what way is it commensurate? For it is not commensurate as magnitudes are, nor as numbers, although the parts of soul are many. For by what ratio is the composition, or the blending, of the parts, or of the theorems? And what would the beauty of intellect be, when it is alone?

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 2 · volkmann page 86-87

πάλιν οὖν ἀναλαβόντες λέγωμεν, τί δῆτά ἐστι τὸ ἐν τοῖς σώμασι καλὸν πρῶτον. ἔστι μὲν γάρ τι καὶ ἐπιβολῇ τῇ πρώτῃ αἰσθητὸν γινόμενον καὶ ἡ ψυχὴ ὥσπερ συνεῖσα λέγει καὶ ἐπιγνοῦσα ἀποδέχεται καὶ οἷον συναρμόττεται. πρὸς δὲ τὸ αἰσχρὸν προσβαλοῦσα ἀνίλλεται καὶ ἀρνεῖται καὶ ἀνανεύει ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ οὐ συμφωνοῦσα καὶ ἀλλοτριουμένη. φαμὲν δή, ὡς τὴν φύσιν οὖσα ὅπερ ἐστὶ καὶ πρὸς τῆς κρείττονος ἐν τοῖς οὖσιν οὐσίας, ὅ τι ἂν ἴδῃ συγγενὲς ἢ ἴχνος τοῦ συγγενοῦς, χαίρει τε καὶ διεπτόηται καὶ ἀναφέρει πρὸς ἑαυτὴν καὶ ἀναμιμνήσκεται ἑαυτῆς καὶ τῶν ἑαυτῆς. τίς οὖν ὁμοιότης τοῖς τῇδε πρὸς τὰ ἐκεῖ καλά; καὶ γάρ, εἰ ὁμοιότης, ὅμοια μὲν ἔσται: πῶς δὲ καλὰ κἀκεῖνα καὶ ταῦτα; μετοχῇ εἴδους φαμὲν ταῦτα. πᾶν μὲν γὰρ τὸ ἄμορφον πεφυκὸς μορφὴν καὶ εἶδος δέχεσθαι ἄμοιρον ὂν λόγου καὶ εἴδους αἰσχρὸν καὶ ἔξω θείου λόγου: καὶ τὸ πάντη αἰσχρὸν τοῦτο. αἰσχρὸν δὲ καὶ τὸ μὴ κρατηθὲν ὑπὸ μορφῆς καὶ λόγου οὐκ ἀνασχομένης τῆς ὕλης τὸ πάντη κατὰ τὸ εἶδος μορφοῦσθαι. προσιὸν οὖν τὸ εἶδος τὸ μὲν ἐκ πολλῶν ἐσόμενον μερῶν ἓν συνθέσει συνέταξέ τε καὶ εἰς μίαν συντέλειαν ἤγαγε καὶ ἓν τῇ ὁμολογίᾳ πεποίηκεν, ἐπείπερ ἓν ἦν αὐτὸ ἕν τε ἔδει τὸ μορφούμενον εἶναι ὡς δυνατὸν αὐτῷ ἐκ πολλῶν ὄντι. ἵδρυται οὖν ἐπ’ αὐτοῦ τὸ κάλλος εἰς ἓν συναχθέντος καὶ τοῖς μέρεσι διδὸν ἑαυτὸ καὶ τοῖς ὅλοις. ὅταν δὲ ἕν τι καὶ ὁμοιομερὲς καταλάβῃ, εἰς ὅλον δίδωσιν ἑαυτό: οἷον [εἰ] ὁτὲ μὲν πάσῃ οἰκίᾳ μετὰ τῶν μερῶν, ὁτὲ δὲ ἑνὶ λίθῳ διδοίη τις φύσις τὸ κάλλος, τῇ δὲ ἡ τέχνη. οὕτω μὲν δὴ καλὸν τὸ σῶμα γίγνεται λόγου ἀπὸ θεῶν ἐλθόντος κοινωνίᾳ.

Let us take it up again, then, and say what the primary beauty in bodies really is. There is something that becomes perceptible at the first glance, and the soul speaks of it as though it understood, and recognises it and welcomes it and, as it were, fits itself to it. But when it meets the ugly it shrinks back, and refuses it, and turns away from it, out of concord with it and estranged. We say, then, that the soul, being by nature what it is and belonging to the higher substance among the things that are, whenever it sees something akin to it, or a trace of what is akin, rejoices and is thrilled, and refers it to itself, and is reminded of itself and of what is its own. What likeness, then, have the things here to the beautiful things there? For if there is likeness, let them be alike; but how are both those and these beautiful? By participation in form, we say, these are. For everything shapeless that is naturally fitted to receive shape and form, so long as it is without a share in rational form and form, is ugly and outside divine rational form; and this is the utterly ugly. But that is ugly too which has not been mastered by shape and rational form, because the matter has not allowed itself to be shaped completely according to the form. So the form, approaching, has ordered into one by composition what was to come to be out of many parts, and brought it to a single completion, and made it one by agreement; for since the form was itself one, what was being shaped also had to be one, as far as it could be, being made of many. Beauty, then, is seated upon the thing once it has been brought together into one, giving itself both to the parts and to the wholes. But when it takes hold of something that is one and alike in its parts, it gives itself to the whole: as if beauty were given at one time to a whole house together with its parts, and at another to a single stone — to the stone by a nature, to the house by art. So, then, a body comes to be beautiful by communion with a rational form that has come from gods.

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 3 · volkmann page 87-88

γινώσκει δὲ αὐτὸ ἡ ἐπ’ αὐτὸ δύναμις τεταγμένη, ἧς οὐδὲν κυριώτερον εἰς κρίσιν τῶν ἑαυτῆς, ὅταν καὶ ἡ ἄλλη συνεπικρίνῃ ψυχή. τάχα δὲ καὶ αὐτὴ λέγει συναρμόττουσα τῷ παρ’ αὐτῇ εἴδει κἀκείνῳ πρὸς τὴν κρίσιν χρωμένη ὥσπερ κανόνι τοῦ εὐθέος. πῶς δὲ συμφωνεῖ τὸ περὶ σῶμα τῷ πρὸ σώματος; πῶς δὲ τὴν ἔξω οἰκίαν τῷ ἔνδον οἰκίας εἴδει ὁ οἰκοδομικὸς συναρμόσας καλὴν εἶναι λέγει; ἢ ὅτι ἐστὶν ἡ ἔξω, εἰ χωρίσειας τοὺς λίθους, τὸ ἔνδον εἶδος μερισθὲν τῷ ἔξω ὕλης ὄγκῳ, ἀμερὲς ὂν ἐν πολλοῖς φανταζόμενον. ὅταν οὖν ἡ αἴσθησις τὸ ἐν σώμασιν εἶδος ἴδῃ συνδησάμενον καὶ κρατῆσαν τῆς φύσεως τῆς ἐναντίας ἀμόρφου οὔσης καὶ μορφὴν ἐπὶ ἄλλαις μορφαῖς ἐκπρεπῶς ἐποχουμένην, συνελοῦσα ἀθρόον αὐτὸ τὸ πολλαχῇ ἀνήνεγκέ τε καὶ εἰσήγαγεν εἰς τὸ εἴσω ἀμερὲς ἤδη καὶ ἔδωκε τῷ ἔνδον σύμφωνον καὶ συναρμόττον καὶ φίλον: οἷα ἀνδρὶ ἀγαθῷ προσηνὲς ἐπιφαινόμενον ἀρετῆς ἴχνος ἐν νέῳ συμφωνοῦν τῷ ἀληθεῖ τῷ ἔνδον. τὸ δὲ τῆς χρόας κάλλος ἁπλοῦν μορφῇ καὶ κρατήσει τοῦ ἐν ὕλῃ σκοτεινοῦ, παρουσίᾳ φωτὸς ἀσωμάτου καὶ λόγου καὶ εἴδους ὄντος. ὅθεν καὶ τὸ πῦρ αὐτὸ παρὰ τὰ ἄλλα σώματα καλόν, ὅτι τάξιν εἴδους πρὸς τὰ ἄλλα στοιχεῖα ἔχει, ἄνω μὲν τῇ θέσει, λεπτότατον δὲ τῶν ἄλλων σωμάτων, ὡς ἐγγὺς ὂν τοῦ ἀσωμάτου, μόνον δὲ αὐτὸ οὐκ εἰσδεχόμενον τὰ ἄλλα: τὰ δὲ ἄλλα δέχεται αὐτό. θερμαίνεται γὰρ ἐκεῖνα, οὐ ψύχεται δὲ τοῦτο, κέχρωσταί τε πρώτως, τὰ δὲ ἄλλα παρὰ τούτου τὸ εἶδος τῆς χρόας λαμβάνει. λάμπει οὖν καὶ στίλβει, ὡς ἂν εἶδος ὄν. τὸ δὲ μὴ κρατούμενον ἐξίτηλον τῷ φωτὶ γινόμενον οὐκέτι καλόν, ὡς ἂν τοῦ εἴδους τῆς χρόας οὐ μετέχον ὅλου. αἱ δὲ ἁρμονίαι αἱ ἐν ταῖς φωναῖς ἀφανεῖς τὰς φανερὰς ποιήσασαι καὶ ταύτῃ τὴν ψυχὴν σύνεσιν τοῦ καλοῦ λαβεῖν ἐποίησαν, ὡς ἐν ἄλλῳ τὸ αὐτὸ δείξασαι. παρακολουθεῖ δὲ ταῖς αἰσθηταῖς μετρεῖσθαι ἀριθμοῖς ἐν λόγῳ οὐ παντί, ἀλλ’ ὃς ἂν ᾖ δουλεύων εἰς ποίησιν εἴδους εἴς [τε] τὸ κρατεῖν. καὶ περὶ μὲν τῶν ἐν αἰσθήσει καλῶν, ἃ δὴ εἴδωλα καὶ σκιαί, [αἳ] οἷον ἐκδραμοῦσαι εἰς ὕλην ἐλθοῦσαι ἐκόσμησάν τε καὶ διεπτόησαν φανεῖσαι, τοσαῦτα.

And the power ordained for this recognises it — no power has more authority in judging what belongs to it — when the rest of the soul judges along with it. Or perhaps the soul itself speaks, fitting the thing to the form it has with it and using that for the judgement, as a rule is used for what is straight. But how does what is about body agree with what is before body? How does the builder, having fitted the outer house to the form of the house within, say that it is beautiful? Is it that the outer house, if you were to take away the stones, is the inner form divided by the outward mass of matter — partless, but appearing in many? So when sense-perception sees the form in bodies binding together and mastering the nature opposed to it, which is shapeless, and a shape riding conspicuously upon other shapes, it gathers into one what was scattered, and carries it up, and brings it within, now partless, and gives it to what is within as something in concord with it, fitting it, and dear to it: as a trace of virtue appearing in the young is pleasing to a good man, being in concord with the truth within him. The beauty of colour is simple, by shape and by the mastery of the darkness in matter, through the presence of a light that is incorporeal and is rational form and form. That is why fire itself, beyond the other bodies, is beautiful: it has the rank of form toward the other elements, above them in position and the finest of the other bodies, as being near the incorporeal; and it alone does not receive the others, while the others receive it. For they are warmed, but it is not cooled; it is coloured primarily, and the others take the form of colour from it. So it shines and glitters, as being form. What is not mastered, fading in the light, is no longer beautiful, as not participating in the whole form of colour. The harmonies in sounds, the unseen ones that make the audible ones, have in this way too made the soul grasp the beautiful, showing the same thing in another medium. It belongs to perceptible harmonies to be measured by numbers — not in every ratio, but in one that serves the making of form, so that it may master. So much, then, for the beautiful things in sense-perception, which are images and shadows that, as it were, run out and come into matter, and adorn it, and thrill us when they appear.

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 4 · volkmann page 88-89

περὶ δὲ τῶν προσωτέρω καλῶν, ἃ οὐκέτι αἴσθησις ὁρᾶν εἴληχε, ψυχὴ δὲ ἄνευ ὀργάνων ὁρᾷ καὶ λέγει, ἀναβαίνοντας δεῖ θεάσασθαι καταλιπόντας τὴν αἴσθησιν κάτω περιμένειν. ὥσπερ δὲ ἐπὶ τῶν τῆς αἰσθήσεως καλῶν οὐκ ἦν περὶ αὐτῶν λέγειν τοῖς μήτε ἑωρακόσι μήθ̓ ὡς καλῶν ἀντειλημμένοις, οἷον εἴ τινες ἐξ ἀρχῆς τυφλοὶ γεγονότες, τὸν αὐτὸν τρόπον οὐδὲ περὶ κάλλους ἐπιτηδευμάτων τοῖς μὴ ἀποδεξαμένοις τὸ τῶν ἐπιτηδευμάτων καὶ ἐπιστημῶν καὶ τῶν ἄλλων τῶν τοιούτων κάλλος, οὐδὲ περὶ ἀρετῆς φέγγους τοῖς μηδὲ φαντασθεῖσιν, ὡς καλὸν τὸ τῆς δικαιοσύνης καὶ σωφροσύνης πρόσωπον, καὶ οὔτε ἕσπερος οὔτε ἑῷος οὕτω καλά. ἀλλὰ δεῖ ἰδόντας μὲν εἶναι, ὧν ψυχὴ τὰ τοιαῦτα βλέπει, ἰδόντας δὲ ἡσθῆναι καὶ ἔκπληξιν λαβεῖν καὶ πτοηθῆναι πολλῷ μᾶλλον, ἢ ἐν τοῖς πρόσθεν, ἅτε ἀληθινῶν ἤδη ἐφαπτομένους. ταῦτα γὰρ δεῖ τὰ πάθη γενέσθαι περὶ τὸ ὅ τι ἂν ᾖ καλόν, θάμβος καὶ ἔκπληξιν ἡδεῖαν καὶ πόθον καὶ ἔρωτα καὶ πτόησιν μεθ̓ ἡδονῆς. ἔστι δὲ ταῦτα παθεῖν καὶ πάσχουσιν αἱ ψυχαὶ καὶ περὶ τὰ μὴ ὁρώμενα πᾶσαι μέν, ὡς εἰπεῖν, μᾶλλον μέντοι αἱ τούτων ἐρωτικώτεραι, ὥσπερ καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν σωμάτων πάντες μὲν ἐρῶσι, κεντοῦνται δὲ οὐκ ἴσα, ἀλλ’ εἰσὶν οἳ μάλιστα, οἳ καὶ λέγονται ἐρᾶν.

But as for the beauties further on, which sense-perception is not allotted to see, but soul sees and speaks of without instruments: we must go up and behold them, leaving sense-perception to wait below. As with the beauties of sense-perception it was impossible to speak of them to those who had neither seen them nor grasped them as beautiful — those born blind, for instance — in the same way no one can speak of the beauty of pursuits to those who have not welcomed the beauty of pursuits and branches of knowledge and the other things of that kind; nor of the splendour of virtue to those who have never so much as imagined how beautiful is the face of justice and self-control, and that neither the evening star nor the morning star is so beautiful. There must be people, then, who see with that by which the soul sees such things, and who, having seen them, are delighted and struck with wonder and thrilled far more than in the former cases, since now they are laying hold of true beauties. For these are the experiences that must arise about whatever is beautiful: wonder, and a sweet astonishment, and longing, and love, and a thrill that is mixed with pleasure. Souls can have these experiences, and do have them, even about what is not seen — all souls, one might say, but more those among them that are more given to love; just as with bodies all feel love, but not all are stung alike: there are some who are stung most, and these are the ones who are said to be in love.

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 5 · volkmann page 89-91

τῷ δὴ καὶ περὶ τὰ ἐν οὐκ αἰσθήσει ἐρωτικῶν ἀναπυνθάνεσθαι δεῖ: τί πάσχετε περὶ τὰ λεγόμενα ἐπιτηδεύματα καλὰ καὶ τρόπους καλοὺς καὶ ἤθη σώφρονα καὶ ὅλως ἔργα ἀρετῆς καὶ διαθέσεις καὶ τὸ τῶν ψυχῶν κάλλος; καὶ ἑαυτοὺς δὲ ἰδόντες τὰ ἔνδον καλοὺς τί πάσχετε; καὶ πῶς ἀναβακχεύεσθε καὶ ἀνακινεῖσθε καὶ ἑαυτοῖς συνεῖναι ποθεῖτε συλλεξάμενοι αὐτοὺς ἀπὸ τῶν σωμάτων; πάσχουσι μὲν γὰρ ταῦτα οἱ ὄντως ἐρωτικοί. τί δέ ἐστι, περὶ ὃ ταῦτα πάσχουσιν; οὐ σχῆμα, οὐ χρῶμα, οὐ μέγεθός τι, ἀλλὰ περὶ ψυχήν, ἀχρώματον μὲν αὐτήν, ἀχρώματον δὲ καὶ τὴν σωφροσύνην ἔχουσαν καὶ τὸ ἄλλο τῶν ἀρετῶν φέγγος, ὅταν ἢ ἐν αὐτοῖς ἴδητε, ἢ καὶ ἐν ἄλλῳ θεάσησθε μέγεθος ψυχῆς καὶ ἦθος δίκαιον καὶ σωφροσύνην καθαρὰν καὶ ἀνδρείαν βλοσυρὸν ἔχουσαν πρόσωπον καὶ σεμνότητα καὶ αἰδῶ ἐπανθοῦσαν ἀτρεμεῖ καὶ ἀκύμονι καὶ ἀπαθεῖ διαθέσει, ἐπὶ πᾶσι δὲ τούτοις τὸν θεοειδῆ νοῦν ἐπιλάμποντα. ταῦτα οὖν ἀγάμενοι καὶ φιλοῦντες πῶς αὐτὰ λέγετε καλά; ἔστι μὲν γὰρ καὶ φαίνεται καὶ οὐ μήποτε ὁ ἰδὼν ἄλλο τι φήσει, ἢ τὰ ὄντως ὄντα ταῦτα εἶναι. τί ὄντα ὄντως; ἢ καλά. ἀλλ’ ἔτι ποθεῖ ὁ λόγος, τί ὄντα πεποίηκε τὴν ψυχὴν εἶναι ἐράσμιον: τί τὸ ἐπὶ πάσαις ἀρεταῖς διαπρέπον οἷον φῶς; βούλει δὴ καὶ τὰ ἐναντία λαβών, τὰ περὶ ψυχὴν αἰσχρὰ γινόμενα, ἀντιπαραθεῖναι; τάχα γὰρ ἂν συμβάλλοιτο πρὸς ὃ ζητοῦμεν τὸ αἰσχρὸν ὅ τί ποτ̓ ἐστὶ καὶ διότι φανέν. ἔστω δὴ ψυχὴ αἰσχρά, ἀκόλαστός τε καὶ ἄδικος, πλείστων μὲν ἐπιθυμιῶν γέμουσα, πλείστης δὲ ταραχῆς, ἐν φόβοις διὰ δειλίαν, ἐν φθόνοις διὰ μικροπρέπειαν, πάντα φρονοῦσα ἃ δὴ καὶ φρονεῖ θνητὰ καὶ ταπεινά, σκολιὰ πανταχοῦ, ἡδονῶν οὐ καθαρῶν φίλη, ζῶσα ζωὴν τοῦ ὅ τι ἂν πάθῃ διὰ σώματος ὡς ἡδὺ λαβοῦσα [τὸ] αἶσχος. αὐτὸ τοῦτο τὸ αἶσχος αὐτῇ ἆρα οὐ προσγεγονέναι οἷον ἐπακτὸν κακὸν φήσομεν, ὃ ἐλωβήσατο μὲν αὐτῇ, πεποίηκε δὲ αὐτὴν ἀκάθαρτον καὶ πολλῷ τῷ κακῷ συμπεφυρμένην, οὔτε ζωὴν ἔτι ἔχουσαν οὔτε αἴσθησιν καθαράν, ἀλλὰ τῷ μίγματι τοῦ κακοῦ ἀμυδρᾷ τῇ ζωῇ κεχρημένην καὶ πολλῷ τῷ θανάτῳ κεκραμένην, οὐκέτι μὲν ὁρῶσαν ἃ δεῖ ψυχὴν ὁρᾶν, οὐκέτι δὲ ἐωμένην ἐν αὐτῇ μένειν τῷ ἕλκεσθαι ἀεὶ πρὸς τὸ ἔξω καὶ τὸ κάτω καὶ τὸ σκοτεινόν; ἀκάθαρτος δή, οἶμαι, οὖσα καὶ φερομένη πανταχοῦ ὁλκαῖς πρὸς τὰ τῇ αἰσθήσει προσπίπτοντα, πολὺ τὸ τοῦ σώματος ἔχουσα ἐγκεκραμένον, τῷ ὑλικῷ πολλῷ συνοῦσα καὶ εἰς αὐτὴν εἰσδεξαμένη εἶδος ἕτερον ἠλλάξατο κράσει τῇ πρὸς τὸ χεῖρον: οἷον εἴ τις δὺς εἰς πηλὸν ἢ βόρβορον τὸ μὲν ὅπερ εἶχε κάλλος μηκέτι προφαίνοι, τοῦτο δὲ ὁρῷτο, ὃ παρὰ τοῦ πηλοῦ ἢ βορβόρου ἀπεμάξατο: ᾧ δὴ τὸ αἰσχρὸν προσθήκῃ τοῦ ἀλλοτρίου προσῆλθε καὶ ἔργον αὐτῷ, εἴπερ ἔσται πάλιν καλός, ἀπονιψαμένῳ καὶ καθηραμένῳ ὅπερ ἦν εἶναι. αἰσχρὰν δὴ ψυχὴν λέγοντες μίξει καὶ κράσει καὶ νεύσει τῇ πρὸς τὸ σῶμα καὶ ὕλην ὀρθῶς ἂν λέγοιμεν. καὶ ἔστι τοῦτο αἶσχος ψυχῇ μὴ καθαρᾷ μηδὲ εἰλικρινεῖ εἶναι, ὥσπερ χρυσῷ ἀναπεπλῆσθαι τοῦ γεώδους, ὃ εἴ τις ἀφέλοι, καταλέλειπται χρυσὸς καὶ ἔστι καλός, μονούμενος μὲν τῶν ἄλλων, αὐτῷ δὲ συνὼν μόνῳ. τὸν αὐτὸν δὴ τρόπον καὶ ψυχή, μονωθεῖσα μὲν ἐπιθυμιῶν, ἃς διὰ τὸ σῶμα ἔχει, ᾧ ἄγαν προσωμίλει, ἀπαλλαγεῖσα δὲ τῶν ἄλλων παθῶν καὶ καθαρθεῖσα ἃ ἔχει σωματωθεῖσα, μείνασα μόνη τὸ αἰσχρὸν τὸ παρὰ τῆς ἑτέρας φύσεως ἅπαν ἀπεθήκατο.

So we must question those who love the things that are not in sense-perception: What do you experience about what are called beautiful pursuits, and beautiful ways of life, and self-controlled characters, and in general the works of virtue, and dispositions, and the beauty of souls? And when you see yourselves beautiful within, what do you experience? How is it that you are stirred as in Bacchic frenzy, and excited, and long to be with yourselves, gathering yourselves together away from bodies? For this is what true lovers experience. And what is it about which they experience this? Not a shape, not a colour, not some magnitude, but soul — itself without colour, and possessing a self-control without colour and the rest of the splendour of the virtues — whenever you see in yourselves, or behold in another, greatness of soul, and a just character, and a pure self-control, and courage with its grim face, and dignity and modesty flowering upon a disposition calm and unruffled and unaffected, and over all these the godlike intellect shining. We admire these, then, and hold them dear — but how do we say that they are beautiful? They are, and they appear so, and whoever has seen them will never say anything other than that they are the things that really are. Really are what? Beautiful. But the argument still wants to know what they are that has made the soul lovable: what is it that shines upon all the virtues like a light? Will you, then, take their opposites too — the ugly things that come to be in soul — and set them beside them? For perhaps it would help toward what we are seeking to see what ugliness is and why it appears. Let there be, then, an ugly soul, licentious and unjust, full of very many desires and of very great disturbance, in fears through cowardice, in envies through pettiness, thinking what it does think only of mortal and low things, crooked everywhere, a friend of impure pleasures, living a life of whatever it undergoes through the body, taking ugliness for sweetness. Shall we not say that this very ugliness has come upon it as an evil brought in from outside, which has outraged it and made it impure and smeared with much evil, no longer having life or sense-perception that is pure, but using a life made dim by its mixture with evil and blended with much death, no longer seeing what a soul should see, no longer allowed to remain in itself, because it is always being dragged toward the outside, and the below, and the dark? Impure indeed, I think, and borne about everywhere by the pull of whatever strikes the senses, with much of the body mixed into it, consorting with much that is material and taking into itself a form other than its own, it has changed by a mixture with the worse: as if someone who had plunged into mud or mire should no longer show the beauty he had, and what was seen should be what the mud or mire had left on him. For him ugliness has come by the addition of something alien, and his task, if he is to be beautiful again, is to be washed and cleaned and so to be what he was. We should be right, then, to say that a soul becomes ugly by mixture and blending and inclination toward the body and matter. And this is ugliness for a soul: not to be pure and unmixed, like gold filled up with earthy stuff; take that away, and the gold is left, and it is beautiful, isolated from other things and consorting with itself alone. In the same way the soul, isolated from the desires that it has through the body, with which it consorted too much, and freed from its other affections, and purified of what it has from being embodied, remaining alone, has put away all the ugliness that came from the other nature.

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 6 · volkmann page 91-92

ἔστι γὰρ δή, ὡς ὁ παλαιὸς λόγος, καὶ ἡ σωφροσύνη καὶ ἡ ἀνδρεία καὶ πᾶσα ἀρετὴ κάθαρσις καὶ ἡ φρόνησις αὐτή. διὸ καὶ αἱ τελεταὶ ὀρθῶς αἰνίττονται τὸν μὴ κεκαθαρμένον καὶ εἰς ᾅδου κείσεσθαι ἐν βορβόρῳ, ὅτι τὸ μὴ καθαρὸν βορβόρῳ διὰ κάκην φίλον: οἷα δὴ καὶ ὗες, οὐ καθαραὶ τὸ σῶμα, χαίρουσι τῷ τοιούτῳ. τί γὰρ ἂν καὶ εἴη σωφροσύνη ἀληθὴς ἢ τὸ μὴ προσομιλεῖν ἡδοναῖς τοῦ σώματος, φεύγειν δὲ ὡς οὐ καθαρὰς οὐδὲ καθαροῦ; ἡ δὲ ἀνδρεία ἀφοβία θανάτου. ὁ δέ ἐστι χωρὶς εἶναι τὴν ψυχὴν τοῦ σώματος. οὐ φοβεῖται δὲ τοῦτο, ὃς ἀγαπᾷ μόνος γενέσθαι. μεγαλοψυχία δὲ δὴ ὑπεροψία τῶν τῇδε. ἡ δὲ φρόνησις νόησις ἐν ἀποστροφῇ τῶν κάτω, πρὸς δὲ τὰ ἄνω τὴν ψυχὴν ἄγουσα. γίνεται οὖν ἡ ψυχὴ καθαρθεῖσα εἶδος καὶ λόγος καὶ πάντη ἀσώματος καὶ νοερὰ καὶ ὅλη τοῦ θείου, ὅθεν ἡ πηγὴ τοῦ καλοῦ καὶ τὰ συγγενῆ πάντα τοιαῦτα. ψυχὴ οὖν ἀναχθεῖσα πρὸς νοῦν ἐπὶ τὸ μᾶλλόν ἐστι καλόν. νοῦς δὲ καὶ τὰ παρὰ νοῦ τὸ κάλλος αὐτῇ οἰκεῖον καὶ οὐκ ἀλλότριον, ὅτι τότε ἐστὶν ὄντως μόνον ψυχή. διὸ καὶ λέγεται ὀρθῶς τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ καλὸν τὴν ψυχὴν γίνεσθαι ὁμοιωθῆναι εἶναι θεῷ, ὅτι ἐκεῖθεν τὸ καλὸν καὶ ἡ μοῖρα ἡ ἑτέρα τῶν ὄντων. μᾶλλον δὲ τὰ ὄντα ἡ καλλονή ἐστιν, ἡ δὲ ἑτέρα φύσις τὸ αἰσχρόν. τὸ δ’ αὐτὸ [αἰσχρὸν] καὶ πρῶτον κακόν, ὥστε κἀκεῖνο ταὐτὸν ἀγαθόν τε καὶ καλόν, ἢ τἀγαθόν τε καὶ καλλονή. ὁμοίως οὖν ζητητέον καλόν τε καὶ ἀγαθὸν καὶ αἰσχρόν τε καὶ κακόν. καὶ τὸ πρῶτον θετέον τὴν καλλονήν, ὅπερ καὶ τἀγαθόν: ἀφ̓ οὗ νοῦς εὐθὺς τὸ καλόν: ψυχὴ δὲ νῷ καλόν: τὰ δὲ ἄλλα ἤδη παρὰ ψυχῆς μορφούσης καλά, τά τε ἐν ταῖς πράξεσι τά τε ἐν τοῖς ἐπιτηδεύμασι. καὶ δὴ καὶ τὰ σώματα, ὅσα οὕτω λέγεται, ψυχὴ ἤδη ποιεῖ: ἅτε γὰρ θεῖον οὖσα καὶ οἷον μοῖρα τοῦ καλοῦ, ὧν ἂν ἐφάψηται καὶ κρατῇ, καλὰ ταῦτα, ὡς δυνατὸν αὐτοῖς μεταλαβεῖν, ποιεῖ.

For indeed, as the ancient saying has it, self-control and courage and every virtue is a purification, and so is wisdom itself. That is why the mysteries say rightly, in their riddling way, that one who has not been purified will lie in mire in Hades: because what is not pure is fond of mire through its badness — as pigs, which are not pure in body, delight in such stuff. For what would true self-control be but not to consort with the pleasures of the body, but to flee them as impure and as belonging to what is impure? And courage is fearlessness of death; and death is the soul's being apart from the body. One who is glad to be alone does not fear this. Greatness of soul is disdain for the things here. And wisdom is an intellection that turns away from the things below and leads the soul to the things above. The soul, then, once purified, becomes form and rational form, and wholly incorporeal and intellectual, and entirely of the divine, where the spring of the beautiful is, and all the things akin to it. The soul, led up to intellect, is beautiful in a greater degree. And intellect and the things from intellect are its beauty, its own and not alien, because only then is it truly soul. That is why it is rightly said that the soul's becoming good and beautiful is its being made like to god, because from there come the beautiful and the other portion of the things that are. Or rather, the things that are are loveliness, and the other nature is the ugly; and this same is the first evil, so that on that side too the same is good and beautiful — or, the good and loveliness. We must, then, inquire in the same way into beautiful and good, and ugly and evil. And first we must set down loveliness, which is also the good; from it, intellect is at once the beautiful; and soul is beautiful by intellect; and the other things are then beautiful from soul as it shapes them, both those in actions and those in pursuits. And bodies too, those that are called so, soul makes so: for since it is divine and, as it were, a portion of the beautiful, whatever it touches and masters it makes beautiful, as far as they are able to partake.

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 7 · volkmann page 92-94

ἀναβατέον οὖν πάλιν ἐπὶ τὸ ἀγαθόν, οὗ ὀρέγεται πᾶσα ψυχή. εἴ τις οὖν εἶδεν αὐτό, οἶδεν ὃ λέγω, ὅπως καλόν. ἐφετὸν μὲν γὰρ ὡς ἀγαθὸν καὶ ἡ ἔφεσις πρὸς τοῦτο, τεῦξις δὲ αὐτοῦ ἀναβαίνουσι πρὸς τὸ ἄνω καὶ ἐπιστραφεῖσι καὶ ἀποδυομένοις, ἃ καταβαίνοντες ἠμφιέσμεθα: οἷον ἐπὶ τὰ ἅγια τῶν ἱερῶν τοῖς ἀνιοῦσι καθάρσεις τε καὶ ἱματίων ἀποθέσεις τῶν πρὶν καὶ τὸ γυμνοῖς ἀνιέναι: ἕως ἄν τις παρελθὼν ἐν τῇ ἀναβάσει πᾶν ὅσον ἀλλότριον τοῦ θεοῦ αὐτῷ μόνῳ αὐτὸ μόνον ἴδῃ εἰλικρινές, ἁπλοῦν, καθαρόν, ἀφ̓ οὗ πάντα ἐξήρτηται, καὶ πρὸς αὐτὸ βλέπει καὶ ἔστι καὶ ζῇ καὶ νοεῖ: ζωῆς γὰρ αἴτιον καὶ νοῦ καὶ τοῦ εἶναι. τοῦτο οὖν εἴ τις ἴδοι, ποίους ἂν ἴσχοι ἔρωτας, ποίους δὲ πόθους, βουλόμενος αὐτῷ συγκερασθῆναι, πῶς δ’ ἂν ἐκπλαγείη μεθ̓ ἡδονῆς; ἔστι γὰρ τῷ μὲν μήπω ἰδόντι ὀρέγεσθαι ὡς ἀγαθοῦ: τῷ δὲ ἰδόντι ὑπάρχει ἐπὶ καλῷ ἄγασθαί τε καὶ θάμβους πίμπλασθαι μεθ̓ ἡδονῆς καὶ ἐκπλήττεσθαι ἀβλαβῶς καὶ ἐρᾶν ἀληθῆ ἔρωτα καὶ δριμέος πόθου καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἐρώτων καταγελᾶν καὶ τῶν πρόσθεν νομιζομένων καλῶν καταφρονεῖν: ὁποῖον πάσχουσιν ὅσοι θεῶν εἴδεσιν ἢ δαιμόνων προστυχόντες οὐκέτ̓ ἂν ἀποδέχοιντο ὁμοίως ἄλλων κάλλη σωμάτων. τί δῆτα οἰόμεθα, εἴ τις αὐτὸ τὸ καλὸν θεῷτο αὐτὸ ἐφ̓ ἑαυτοῦ καθαρόν, μὴ σαρκῶν, μὴ σώματος ἀνάπλεων, μὴ ἐν γῇ, μὴ ἐν οὐρανῷ, ἵν’ ᾖ καθαρόν; καὶ γὰρ ἐπακτὰ πάντα ταῦτα καὶ μέμικται καὶ οὐ πρῶτα, παρ’ ἐκείνου δέ. εἰ οὖν ἐκεῖνο, ὃ χορηγεῖ μὲν ἅπασιν, ἐφ̓ ἑαυτοῦ δὲ μένον δίδωσι καὶ οὐ δέχεταί τι εἰς αὐτό, ἴδοι, μένων ἐν τῇ θέᾳ τοῦ τοιούτου καὶ ἀπολαύων αὐτοῦ ὁμοιούμενος τίνος ἂν ἔτι δέοιτο καλοῦ; τοῦτο γὰρ αὐτὸ μάλιστα κάλλος ὂν αὐτὸ καὶ τὸ πρῶτον ἐργάζεται τοὺς ἐραστὰς αὐτοῦ καλοὺς καὶ ἐραστοὺς ποιεῖ. οὗ δὴ καὶ ἀγὼν μέγιστος καὶ ἔσχατος ψυχαῖς πρόκειται, ὑπὲρ οὗ καὶ ὁ πᾶς πόνος, μὴ ἀμοίρους γενέσθαι τῆς ἀρίστης θέας, ἧς ὁ μὲν τυχὼν μακάριος ὄψιν μακαρίαν τεθεαμένος: ἀτυχὴς δὲ τούτου ὁ μὴ τυχών. οὐ γὰρ ὁ χρωμάτων ἢ σωμάτων καλῶν μὴ τυχὼν οὐδὲ δυνάμεως οὐδὲ ἀρχῶν οὐδ’ ὁ βασιλείας μὴ τυχὼν ἀτυχής, ἀλλ’ ὁ τούτου καὶ μόνου, ὑπὲρ οὗ τῆς τεύξεως καὶ βασιλείας καὶ ἀρχὰς γῆς ἁπάσης καὶ θαλάττης καὶ οὐρανοῦ προέσθαι χρεών, εἰ καταλιπών τις ταῦτα καὶ ὑπεριδὼν εἰς ἐκεῖνο στραφεὶς ἴδοι.

We must go up again, then, to the good, which every soul desires. Anyone who has seen it knows what I mean, and how beautiful it is. For it is desired as good, and the desire is toward it; but it is attained by those who go up to what is above, and turn toward it, and strip off what we put on in coming down — as for those who go up to the holy places of the temples there are purifications, and the putting off of the clothes they wore before, and going up naked — until, passing in the ascent everything that is alien to the god, one sees with oneself alone it alone, unmixed, simple, pure, on which all things depend, and toward which they look, and are, and live, and think: for it is the cause of life and of intellect and of being. If anyone should see this, what loves would he have, what longings, wanting to be blended with it; how he would be struck, and with pleasure! For one who has not yet seen it may desire it as good; but one who has seen it can wonder at it as beautiful, and be filled with astonishment and pleasure, and be struck without harm, and love with a true love and a piercing longing, and laugh at other loves, and despise the things he formerly thought beautiful: as those feel who have met with the forms of gods or daemons, and would no longer welcome the beauties of other bodies in the same way. What, then, do we think, if someone should behold the beautiful itself, itself by itself, pure, not filled with flesh or body, not on earth, not in heaven, so that it may be pure? For all these things are brought in from outside and mixed, and are not first, but come from it. If, then, he should see that which supplies all things, but gives while remaining by itself, and receives nothing into itself — remaining in the seeing of such a thing, and enjoying it, and becoming like it — what other beautiful thing would he still need? For this, being itself beauty most of all, and the first beauty, makes its lovers beautiful and lovable. And here the greatest and last contest is set before souls, for which is all the toil: not to be left without a share in the best of sights. The one who attains it is blessed, having looked on a blessed sight; and unfortunate is the one who does not attain it. For it is not the one who fails to attain beautiful colours or bodies, nor power, nor offices, nor kingship, who is unfortunate, but the one who fails to attain this and this alone; for the attaining of it one must give up kingships and rule over all earth and sea and heaven, if by leaving these and looking beyond them one might turn to it and see.

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 8 · volkmann page 94-95

τίς οὖν ὁ τρόπος; τίς μηχανή; πῶς τις θεάσεται κάλλος ἀμήχανον οἷον ἔνδον ἐν ἁγίοις ἱεροῖς μένον οὐδὲ προιὸν εἰς τὸ ἔξω, ἵνα τις καὶ βέβηλος ἴδῃ; ἴτω δὴ καὶ συνεπέσθω εἰς τὸ εἴσω ὁ δυνάμενος ἔξω καταλιπὼν ὄψιν ὀμμάτων μηδ’ ἐπιστρέφων αὐτὸν εἰς τὰς προτέρας ἀγλαίας σωμάτων. ἰδόντα γὰρ δεῖ τὰ ἐν σώμασι καλὰ μήτοι προστρέχειν, ἀλλὰ γνόντα, ὥς εἰσιν εἰκόνες καὶ ἴχνη καὶ σκιαί, φεύγειν πρὸς ἐκεῖνο, οὗ ταῦτα εἰκόνες. εἰ γάρ τις ἐπιδράμοι λαβεῖν βουλόμενος ὡς ἀληθινοῦ, οἷα εἰδώλου καλοῦ ἐφ̓ ὕδατος ὀχουμένου, οὗ λαβεῖν βουληθείς, ὥς πού τις μῦθος, δοκεῖ μοι, αἰνίττεται, δὺς εἰς τὸ κάτω τοῦ ῥεύματος ἀφανὴς ἐγένετο, τὸν αὐτὸν δὴ τρόπον ὁ ἐχόμενος τῶν καλῶν σωμάτων καὶ μὴ ἀφιεὶς οὐ τῷ σώματι, τῇ δὲ ψυχῇ καταδύσεται εἰς σκοτεινὰ καὶ ἀτερπῆ τῷ νῷ βάθη, ἔνθα τυφλὸς [καὶ] ἐν ᾅδου μένων καὶ ἐνταῦθα κἀκεῖ σκιαῖς συνέσται. φεύγωμεν δὴ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα, ἀληθέστερον ἄν τις παρακελεύοιτο. τίς οὖν ἡ φυγή; καὶ πῶς ἀναξόμεθα; οἷον ἀπὸ μάγου Κίρκης φησὶν ἢ Καλυψοῦς Ὀδυσσεὺς αἰνιττόμενος, δοκεῖ μοι, μεῖναι οὐκ ἀρεσθείς, καίτοι ἔχων ἡδονὰς δι’ ὀμμάτων καὶ κάλλει πολλῷ αἰσθητῷ συνών. πατρὶς δὲ ἡμῖν, ὅθενπερ ἤλθομεν, καὶ πατὴρ ἐκεῖ. τίς οὖν ὁ στόλος καὶ ἡ φυγή; οὐ ποσὶ δεῖ διανύσαι: πανταχοῦ γὰρ φέρουσι πόδες ἐπὶ γῆν ἄλλην ἀπ’ ἄλλης: οὐδέ σε δεῖ ἵππων ὄχημα ἤ τι θαλάττιον παρασκευάσαι, ἀλλὰ ταῦτα πάντα ἀφεῖναι δεῖ καὶ μὴ βλέπειν, ἀλλ’ οἷον μύσαντα ὄψιν ἄλλην ἀλλάξασθαι καὶ ἀνεγεῖραι, ἣν ἔχει μὲν πᾶς, χρῶνται δὲ ὀλίγοι.

What, then, is the way? What is the means? How is one to behold a beauty beyond all means, which remains, as it were, within, in the holy sanctuaries, and does not come out to the outside, so that the profane too might see it? Let whoever is able go, and follow it within, leaving outside the sight of the eyes, and not turning himself back to the former splendours of bodies. For when he sees the beauties in bodies he must not run to them, but know that they are images and traces and shadows, and flee to that of which these are images. For if someone should run to them wanting to seize them as real — like a beautiful image riding on water, which someone wanted to seize, as some story hints, I think, and he plunged down into the depth of the stream and vanished — in the same way the one who holds to beautiful bodies and will not let them go will sink, not in body but in soul, into depths dark and joyless to intellect, where, blind in Hades, he will consort with shadows both here and there. 'Let us flee, then, to our dear fatherland': this is what one would more truly urge. What, then, is the flight? And how shall we put out to sea? As Odysseus says, speaking in riddles, I think, of his escape from the sorceress Circe or from Calypso — not content to stay, although he had pleasures for the eyes and consorted with much beauty that the senses perceive. Our fatherland is that from which we came, and our father is there. What, then, is the journey, and the flight? It is not to be accomplished on foot; for feet carry us everywhere from one land to another. Nor must you make ready a chariot and horses, or anything on the sea; you must let all these things go, and not look, but, as it were closing your eyes, exchange this sight for another and wake it — the sight which everyone has, but few use.

porphyrian I.6 · chronological 1 · chapter 9 · volkmann page 95-96

τί οὖν ἐκείνη ἡ ἔνδον βλέπει; ἄρτι μὲν ἐγειρομένη οὐ πάνυ τὰ λαμπρὰ δύναται βλέπειν. ἐθιστέον οὖν τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτὴν πρῶτον μὲν τὰ καλὰ βλέπειν ἐπιτηδεύματα: εἶτα ἔργα καλά, οὐχ ὅσα αἱ τέχναι ἐργάζονται, ἀλλ’ ὅσα οἱ ἄνδρες οἱ λεγόμενοι ἀγαθοί: εἶτα ψυχὴν ἰδὲ τῶν τὰ ἔργα τὰ καλὰ ἐργαζομένων. πῶς ἂν οὖν ἴδοις ψυχὴν ἀγαθὴν οἷον τὸ κάλλος ἔχει; ἄναγε ἐπὶ σαυτὸν καὶ ἰδέ: κἂν μήπω σαυτὸν ἴδῃς καλόν, οἷα ποιητὴς ἀγάλματος, ὃ δεῖ καλὸν γενέσθαι, τὸ μὲν ἀφαιρεῖ, τὸ δὲ ἀπέξεσε, τὸ δὲ λεῖον, τὸ δὲ καθαρὸν ἐποίησεν, ἕως ἔδειξε καλὸν ἐπὶ τῷ ἀγάλματι πρόσωπον, οὕτω καὶ σὺ ἀφαίρει ὅσα περιττὰ καὶ ἀπεύθυνε ὅσα σκολιά, ὅσα σκοτεινὰ καθαίρων ἐργάζου εἶναι λαμπρὰ καὶ μὴ παύσῃ τεκταίνων τὸ σὸν ἄγαλμα, ἕως ἂν ἐκλάμψῃ σοι τῆς ἀρετῆς ἡ θεοειδὴς ἀγλαία, ἕως ἂν ἴδῃς σωφροσύνην ἐν ἁγνῷ βεβῶσαν βάθρῳ. εἰ γέγονας τοῦτο καὶ εἶδες σαυτὸν καὶ σαυτῷ καθαρῶς συνεγένου οὐδὲν ἔχων ἐμπόδιον πρὸς τὸ εἷς οὕτω γενέσθαι οὐδὲ σὺν αὐτῷ ἄλλο τι ἐντὸς μεμιγμένον ἔχων, ἀλλ’ ὅλος αὐτὸς φῶς ἀληθινὸν μόνον, οὐ μεγέθει μεμετρημένον οὐδὲ σχήματι εἰς ἐλάττωσιν περιγραφὲν οὐδ’ αὖ εἰς μέγεθος δι’ ἀπειρίας αὐξηθέν, ἀλλ’ ἀμέτρητον πανταχοῦ, ὡς ἂν μεῖζον παντὸς μέτρου καὶ παντὸς κρεῖσσον ποσοῦ: εἰ τοῦτο γενόμενον σαυτὸν ἴδοις, ὄψις ἤδη γενόμενος θαρσήσας περὶ σαυτῷ καὶ ἐνταῦθα ἤδη ἀναβεβηκὼς μηκέτι τοῦ δεικνύντος δεηθεὶς ἀτενίσας ἰδέ: οὗτος γὰρ μόνος ὁ ὀφθαλμὸς τὸ μέγα κάλλος βλέπει. ἐὰν δὲ ἴῃ ἐπὶ τὴν θέαν λημῶν κακίαις καὶ οὐ κεκαθαρμένος ἢ ἀσθενής, ἀνανδρίᾳ οὐ δυνάμενος τὰ πάνυ λαμπρὰ βλέπειν, οὐδὲν βλέπει, κἂν ἄλλος δεικνύῃ παρὸν τὸ ὁραθῆναι δυνάμενον. τὸ γὰρ ὁρῶν πρὸς τὸ ὁρώμενον συγγενὲς καὶ ὅμοιον ποιησάμενον δεῖ ἐπιβάλλειν τῇ θέᾳ. οὐ γὰρ ἂν πώποτε εἶδεν ὀφθαλμὸς ἥλιον ἡλιοειδὴς μὴ γεγενημένος, οὐδὲ τὸ καλὸν ἂν ἴδοι ψυχὴ μὴ καλὴ γενομένη. γενέσθω δὴ πρῶτον θεοειδὴς πᾶς καὶ καλὸς πᾶς, εἰ μέλλει θεάσασθαι τἀγαθόν τε καὶ καλόν. ἥξει γὰρ πρῶτον ἀναβαίνων ἐπὶ τὸν νοῦν κἀκεῖ πάντα εἰσόψεται καλὰ τὰ εἴδη καὶ φήσει τὸ κάλλος τοῦτο εἶναι, τὰς ἰδέας: πάντα γὰρ ταύταις καλά, τοῖς νοῦ γεννήμασι καὶ οὐσίᾳ. τὸ δὲ ἐπέκεινα τούτου τὴν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ λέγομεν φύσιν προβεβλημένον τὸ καλὸν πρὸ αὐτῆς ἔχουσαν. ὥστε ὁλοσχερεῖ μὲν λόγῳ τὸ πρῶτον καλόν: διαιρῶν δὲ τὰ νοητὰ τὸ μὲν νοητὸν καλὸν τὸν τῶν εἰδῶν φήσει τόπον, τὸ δ’ ἀγαθὸν τὸ ἐπέκεινα καὶ πηγὴν καὶ ἀρχὴν τοῦ καλοῦ. ἢ ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ καλὸν πρῶτον θήσεται: πλὴν ἐκεῖ τὸ καλόν.

What, then, does that inner sight see? Newly awakened, it is not quite able to look at bright things. The soul itself must first be accustomed to look at beautiful pursuits, then at beautiful works — not the works that the crafts produce, but those that men called good produce — and then look at the soul of those who work these beautiful works. How, then, might you see the sort of beauty a good soul has? Go back into yourself and look. And if you do not yet see yourself as beautiful, then, as the maker of a statue which has to become beautiful cuts away here and smooths there, makes one part clean and another clear, until he has shown a beautiful face upon the statue, so you too: cut away all that is excessive, straighten all that is crooked, and labour to make all that is dark bright by cleaning it; and do not stop working at your own statue until the godlike splendour of virtue shines out upon you, until you see self-control standing on its holy pedestal. If you have become this, and have seen it, and have come to be at home with yourself in purity, with nothing to hinder you from becoming one in this way, with nothing else mixed within you together with yourself, but all of you yourself true light alone — not measured by magnitude, nor bounded by a shape into littleness, nor again enlarged into magnitude by unboundedness, but wholly unmeasured everywhere, as being greater than every measure and better than every quantity — if you see that you have become this, then, having become sight itself, take courage about yourself, and, having already ascended here and no longer needing one to show you, look with a steady gaze. For this eye alone sees the great beauty. But if a man comes to the seeing bleary-eyed with wickednesses and not purified, or weak, and through unmanliness unable to look at what is very bright, he sees nothing, even if another should show him what is present and able to be seen. For the seeing must make itself akin and like to the thing seen before it applies itself to the seeing. For never yet did an eye see the sun without having become sunlike, nor could a soul see the beautiful without having become beautiful. Let everyone, then, first become godlike and all beautiful, if he means to behold the good and the beautiful. For he will come first, ascending, to intellect, and there he will see all the forms as beautiful, and will say that this is beauty, the ideas; for all things are beautiful by these, the offspring and the essence of intellect. And what is beyond this we call the nature of the good, which holds the beautiful thrown forward before itself. So, in a general way of speaking, the first is the beautiful; but one who divides the intelligibles will say that the intelligible beautiful is the place of the forms, and that the good is what is beyond, and the spring and principle of the beautiful. Or he will set the good and the beautiful together as first in the same; except that, there, the beautiful is.

porphyrian III.8 · chronological 30 · chapter 1 · volkmann page 331-332

Παίζοντες δὴ τὴν πρώτην πρὶν ἐπιχειρεῖν σπουδάζειν εἰ λέγοιμεν πάντα θεωρίας ἐφίεσθαι καὶ εἰς τέλος τοῦτο βλέπειν, οὐ μόνον ἔλλογα ἀλλὰ καὶ ἄλογα ζῷα καὶ τὴν ἐν τοῖς φυτοῖς φύσιν καὶ τὴν ταῦτα γεννῶσαν γῆν, καὶ πάντα τυγχάνειν καθ’ ὅσον οἷόν τε αὐτοῖς, ἄλλα δὲ ἄλλως καὶ θεωρεῖν καὶ τυγχάνειν καὶ τὰ μὲν ἀληθῶς, τὰ δὲ μίμησιν καὶ εἰκόνα τούτου λαμβάνοντα: ἆρ’ ἄν τις ἀνάσχοιτο τὸ παράδοξον τοῦ λόγου; ἢ πρὸς ἡμᾶς αὐτοῦ γινομένου κίνδυνος οὐδεὶς ἐν τῷ παίζειν τὰ αὐτῶν γενήσεται. ἆρ’ οὖν καὶ ἡμεῖς παίζοντες ἐν τῷ παρόντι θεωροῦμεν; ἢ καὶ ἡμεῖς καὶ πάντες ὅσοι παίζουσι τοῦτο ποιοῦσι καὶ τούτου γε παίζουσιν ἐφιέμενοι καὶ κινδυνεύει, εἴτε τις παῖς εἴτε ἀνὴρ παίζει ἢ σπουδάζει, θεωρίας ἕνεκεν ὁ μὲν σπουδάζειν, ὁ δὲ παίζειν, καὶ πρᾶξις πᾶσα εἰς θεωρίαν τὴν σπουδὴν ἔχειν, ἡ μὲν ἀναγκαία καὶ ἐπιπλέον τὴν θεωρίαν ἕλκουσα πρὸς τὸ ἔξω, ἡ δὲ ἑκούσιος λεγομένη ἐπ’ ἔλαττον μέν, ὅμως δὲ καὶ αὐτὴ ἐφέσει θεωρίας γινομένη. ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μὲν ὕστερον: νῦν δὲ λέγωμεν περί τε γῆς αὐτῆς καὶ δένδρων καὶ ὅλως φυτῶν τίς αὐτῶν ἡ θεωρία, καὶ πῶς τὰ παρ’ αὐτῆς ποιούμενα καὶ γεννώμενα ἐπὶ τὴν τῆς θεωρίας ἀνάξομεν ἐνέργειαν, καὶ πῶς ἡ φύσις, ἣν ἀφάνταστόν φασι καὶ ἄλογον εἶναι, θεωρίαν τε ἐν αὐτῇ ἔχει καὶ [πῶς] ἃ ποιεῖ διὰ θεωρίαν ποιεῖ, ἣν οὐκ ἔχει.

Suppose that, playing at first before we set about being serious, we were to say that all things aim at contemplation and look to this as their end — not only rational animals but irrational ones too, and the nature in plants, and the earth that begets them — and that all attain it as far as they can, different things in different ways, both contemplating and attaining, some truly, others taking an imitation and an image of it: would anyone put up with the paradox of the argument? Or, since the argument arises among ourselves, there will be no danger in our playing with what is our own. Are we, then, contemplating now, as we play? Or do we and all who play do this, and play at least aiming at this? And it may be that, whether a child or a man plays or is serious, the one is serious and the other plays for the sake of contemplation; and that every action has its seriousness directed to contemplation — necessary action drawing contemplation for the most part toward what is outside, action called voluntary less so, but even this comes about through a desire for contemplation. But this later. Now let us say, about the earth itself and trees and plants generally, what their contemplation is, and how we shall lead back the things made and begotten by it to the activity of contemplation; and how nature, which they say is without imagination and irrational, both has contemplation in itself and makes what it makes through a contemplation which it does not have.

porphyrian III.8 · chronological 30 · chapter 2 · volkmann page 332-333

ὅτι μὲν οὖν οὔτε χεῖρες ἐνταῦθα οὔτε πόδες οὔτε τι ὄργανον ἐπακτὸν ἢ σύμφυτον, ὕλης δὲ δεῖ, ἐφ’ ἧς ποιήσει, καὶ ἣν ἐν εἴδει ποιήσει, παντί που δῆλον. δεῖ δὲ καὶ τὸ μοχλεύειν ἀφελεῖν ἐκ τῆς φυσικῆς ποιήσεως. ποῖος γὰρ ὠθισμὸς ἢ τίς μοχλεία χρώματα ποικίλα καὶ παντοδαπὰ καὶ σχήματα ποιεῖ; ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ οἱ κηροπλάσται, εἰς οὓς δὴ καὶ βλέποντες ᾠήθησαν τὴν τῆς φύσεως δημιουργίαν τοιαύτην εἶναι, χρώματα δύνανται ποιεῖν μὴ χρώματα ἀλλαχόθεν ἐπάγοντες οἷς ποιοῦσιν. ἀλλὰ γὰρ ἐχρῆν συννοοῦντας ὡς καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν τὰς τέχνας τὰς τοιαύτας μετιόντων δεῖ τι ἐν αὐτοῖς μένειν, καθ’ ὃ μένον διὰ χειρῶν ποιήσουσιν ἃ αὐτῶν ἔργα, ἐπὶ τὸ τοιοῦτον ἀνελθεῖν τῆς φύσεως καὶ αὐτοὺς καὶ συνεῖναι, ὡς μένειν δεῖ καὶ ἐνταῦθα τὴν δύναμιν τὴν οὐ διὰ χειρῶν ποιοῦσαν καὶ πᾶσαν μένειν. οὐ γὰρ δὴ δεῖται τῶν μὲν ὡς μενόντων, τῶν δὲ ὡς κινουμένων — ἡ γὰρ ὕλη τὸ κινούμενον, αὐτῆς δὲ οὐδὲν κινούμενον — ἢ ἐκεῖνο οὐκ ἔσται τὸ κινοῦν πρώτως, οὐδὲ ἡ φύσις τοῦτο, ἀλλὰ τὸ ἀκίνητον τὸ ἐν τῷ ὅλῳ. ὁ μὲν δὴ λόγος, φαίη ἄν τις, ἀκίνητος, αὐτὴ δὲ ἄλλη παρὰ τὸν λόγον καὶ κινουμένη. ἀλλ’ εἰ μὲν πᾶσαν φήσουσι, καὶ ὁ λόγος: εἰ δέ τι αὐτῆς ἀκίνητον, καὶ τοῦτο ὁ λόγος. καὶ γὰρ εἶδος αὐτὴν δεῖ εἶναι καὶ οὐκ ἐξ ὕλης καὶ εἴδους: τί γὰρ δεῖ αὐτῇ ὕλης θερμῆς ἢ ψυχρᾶς; ἡ γὰρ ὑποκειμένη καὶ δημιουργουμένη ὕλη ἥκει τοῦτο φέρουσα, ἢ γίνεται τοιαύτη ἡ μὴ ποιότητα ἔχουσα λογωθεῖσα. οὐ γὰρ πῦρ δεῖ προσελθεῖν, ἵνα πῦρ ἡ ὕλη γένηται, ἀλλὰ λόγον: ὃ καὶ σημεῖον οὐ μικρὸν τοῦ ἐν τοῖς ζῴοις καὶ ἐν τοῖς φυτοῖς τοὺς λόγους εἶναι τοὺς ποιοῦντας καὶ τὴν φύσιν εἶναι λόγον, ὃς ποιεῖ λόγον ἄλλον γέννημα αὐτοῦ δόντα μέν τι τῷ ὑποκειμένῳ μένοντα δ’ αὐτόν. ὁ μὲν οὖν λόγος ὁ κατὰ τὴν μορφὴν τὴν ὁρωμένην ἔσχατος ἤδη καὶ νεκρὸς καὶ οὐκέτι ποιεῖν δύναται ἄλλον, ὁ δὲ ζωὴν ἔχων ὁ τοῦ ποιήσαντος τὴν μορφὴν ἀδελφὸς ὢν καὶ αὐτὸς τὴν αὐτὴν δύναμιν ἔχων ποιεῖ ἐν τῷ γεννωμένῳ.

That there are no hands here, nor feet, nor any instrument either brought in or grown with it, but that there is need of matter on which it will make and which it will make to be in form, is clear, I suppose, to everyone. And we must also take leverage away from nature's making. For what thrusting or what levering makes colours, varied and of every kind, and figures? Not even the wax-modellers — looking at whom people have in fact supposed that nature's craftsmanship is of this kind — can make colours unless they bring colours from elsewhere to the things they make. But they ought to have considered that even in those who practise such arts there must be something that remains within them, by which, remaining, they will make with their hands the things that are their works; and they ought to have gone up themselves to the like of this in nature and understood that here too the power that makes, not through hands, must remain, and remain whole. For it does not need some of itself as remaining and some as moved — matter is what is moved, and nothing of nature is moved — or else the moved part will not be the first mover, nor will nature be this, but the unmoved thing in the whole will. 'The rational form is unmoved,' someone might say, 'but nature itself is other than the rational form, and is moved.' But if they say that the whole of nature is moved, the rational form is moved too; and if something of it is unmoved, this is the rational form. For nature must be a form, and not composed of matter and form: what need has it of matter hot or cold? For the matter that underlies and is worked on comes bringing this with it, or matter that has no quality becomes such by being given rational form. For it is not fire that must come to matter for matter to become fire, but a rational form; and this is no small sign that in animals and in plants it is the rational forms that make, and that nature is a rational form, which makes another rational form, its offspring, that gives something to the substrate but itself remains. The rational form in the visible shape, then, is already the last, and dead, and can no longer make another; but the one that has life, being brother of the one that made the shape and having itself the same power, makes in what is begotten.

porphyrian III.8 · chronological 30 · chapter 3 · volkmann page 333-334

πῶς οὖν ποιῶν καὶ οὕτως ποιῶν θεωρίας τινὸς ἂν ἐφάπτοιτο; ἤ, εἰ μένων ποιεῖ καὶ ἐν αὐτῷ μένων ἐστὶ λόγος, εἴη ἂν αὐτὸς θεωρία. ἡ μὲν γὰρ πρᾶξις γένοιτ’ ἂν κατὰ λόγον ἑτέρα οὖσα δηλονότι τοῦ λόγου: ὁ μέντοι λόγος καὶ αὐτὸς συνὼν τῇ πράξει καὶ ἐπιστατῶν οὐκ ἂν εἴη πρᾶξις. εἰ οὖν μὴ πρᾶξις ἀλλὰ λόγος, θεωρία: καὶ ἐπὶ παντὸς λόγου ὁ μὲν ἔσχατος ἐκ θεωρίας καὶ θεωρία οὕτως ὡς τεθεωρημένος, ὁ δὲ πρὸ τούτου πᾶς ὁ μὲν ἄλλος ἄλλως, ὁ μὴ ὡς φύσις ἀλλὰ ψυχή, ὁ δ’ ἐν τῇ φύσει καὶ ἡ φύσις. ἆρά γε καὶ αὐτὸς ἐκ θεωρίας; πάντως μὴν ἐκ θεωρίας: ἀλλ’ εἰ καὶ αὐτὸς τεθεωρηκὼς αὐτόν; ἢ πῶς; ἔστι μὲν γὰρ ἀποτέλεσμα θεωρίας καὶ θεωρήσαντός τινος. πῶς δὲ αὐτὴ ἔχει θεωρίαν; τὴν μὲν δὴ ἐκ λόγου οὐκ ἔχει: λέγω δ’ ἐκ λόγου τὸ σκοπεῖσθαι περὶ τῶν ἐν αὐτῇ. διὰ τί οὖν ζωή τις οὖσα καὶ λόγος καὶ δύναμις ποιοῦσα; ἆρ’ ὅτι τὸ σκοπεῖσθαί ἐστι τὸ μήπω ἔχειν; εἰ δὲ ἔχει, καὶ διὰ τοῦτο ὅτι ἔχει καὶ ποιεῖ. τὸ οὖν εἶναι αὐτῇ ὃ ἔστι τοῦτό ἐστι τὸ ποιεῖν αὐτῇ: ἔστι δὲ θεωρία καὶ θεώρημα, λόγος γάρ. τῷ οὖν εἶναι θεωρία καὶ θεώρημα καὶ λόγος τούτῳ καὶ ποιεῖ ᾗ ταῦτά ἐστιν. ἡ ποίησις ἄρα θεωρία ἡμῖν ἀναπέφανται: ἔστι γὰρ ἀποτέλεσμα θεωρίας μενούσης θεωρίας οὐκ ἄλλο τι πραξάσης, ἀλλὰ τῷ εἶναι θεωρία ποιησάσης.

How, then, making, and making in this way, could it lay hold of any contemplation? Or, if it makes while remaining, and, remaining in itself, is a rational form, it would itself be contemplation. For action would come about according to a rational form, being plainly other than the rational form; but the rational form itself, though it accompanies the action and presides over it, would not be action. If, then, it is not action but a rational form, it is contemplation. And in every case of rational form, the last comes from contemplation and is contemplation in the sense of having been contemplated; and all that is before it is so in different ways — the one not as nature but as soul, the other the one in nature, that is, nature. Does this one too come from contemplation? Certainly from contemplation. But has it also itself contemplated itself? Or how? For it is the outcome of a contemplation and of something that contemplated. But how does nature itself have contemplation? The contemplation that comes from reasoning it does not have — by 'from reasoning' I mean inquiring into what is within it. Why not, when it is a kind of life and a rational form and a power that makes? Is it because to inquire is not yet to have? But it has; and for this very reason, because it has, it also makes. For nature, then, to be what it is, is to make; and it is contemplation and object of contemplation, for it is a rational form. By being contemplation and object of contemplation and rational form, then — by this it also makes, in that it is these. Making, then, has come to light for us as contemplation; for it is the outcome of a contemplation that remains contemplation, that has done nothing else, but has made by being contemplation.

porphyrian III.8 · chronological 30 · chapter 4 · volkmann page 334-336

καὶ εἴ τις δὲ αὐτὴν ἔροιτο τίνος ἕνεκα ποιεῖ, εἰ τοῦ ἐρωτῶντος ἐθέλοι ἐπαίειν καὶ λέγειν, εἴποι ἄν: ‘ἐχρῆν μὲν μὴ ἐρωτᾶν, ἀλλὰ συνιέναι καὶ αὐτὸν σιωπῇ, ὥσπερ ἐγὼ σιωπῶ καὶ οὐκ εἴθισμαι λέγειν. τί οὖν συνιέναι; ὅτι τὸ γενόμενόν ἐστι θέαμα ἐμὸν [ἐμοῦ] σιωπησάσης καὶ φύσει γενόμενον θεώρημα, καί μοι γενομένῃ ἐκ θεωρίας τῆς ὡδὶ τὴν φύσιν ἔχειν φιλοθεάμονα ὑπάρχει καὶ τὸ θεωροῦν μου θεώρημα ποιεῖ, ὥσπερ οἱ γεωμέτραι θεωροῦντες γράφουσιν: ἀλλ’ ἐμοῦ μὴ γραφούσης, θεωρούσης δέ, ὑφίστανται αἱ τῶν σωμάτων γραμμαὶ ὥσπερ ἐκπίπτουσαι. καί μοι τὸ τῆς μητρὸς καὶ τῶν γειναμένων ὑπάρχει πάθος: καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖνοι εἰσὶν ἐκ θεωρίας καὶ ἡ γένεσις ἡ ἐμὴ ἐκείνων οὐδὲν πραξάντων, ἀλλ’ ὄντων μειζόνων λόγων καὶ θεωρούντων αὐτοὺς ἐγὼ γεγέννημαι.’ τί οὖν ταῦτα βούλεται; ὡς ἡ λεγομένη φύσις ψυχὴ οὖσα, γέννημα ψυχῆς προτέρας δυνατώτερον ζώσης, ἡσυχῇ ἐν ἑαυτῇ θεωρίαν ἔχουσα οὐ πρὸς τὸ ἄνω οὐδ’ αὖ ἔτι πρὸς τὸ κάτω, στᾶσα δὲ ἐν ᾧ ἔστιν, ἐν τῇ αὐτῆς στάσει καὶ οἷον συναισθήσει, τῇ συνέσει ταύτῃ καὶ συναισθήσει τὸ μετ’ αὐτὴν εἶδεν ὡς οἷόν τε αὐτῇ καὶ οὐκέτι ἐζήτησεν ἄλλα θεώρημα ἀποτελέσασα ἀγλαὸν καὶ χάριεν. καὶ εἴ τις βούλεται σύνεσίν τινα ἢ αἴσθησιν αὐτῇ διδόναι, οὐχ οἵαν λέγομεν ἐπὶ τῶν ἄλλων τὴν αἴσθησιν ἢ τὴν σύνεσιν, ἀλλ’ οἷον εἴ τις τὴν τοῦ ὕπνου [τῇ] τοῦ ἐγρηγορότος προσεικάσειε. θεωροῦσα γὰρ θεώρημα αὐτῆς ἀναπαύεται γενόμενον αὐτῇ ἐκ τοῦ ἐν αὐτῇ καὶ σὺν αὐτῇ μένειν καὶ θεώρημα εἶναι: καὶ θεωρία ἄψοφος, ἀμυδροτέρα δέ. ἑτέρα γὰρ αὐτῆς εἰς θέαν ἐναργεστέρα, ἡ δὲ εἴδωλον θεωρίας ἄλλης. ταύτῃ δὴ καὶ τὸ γεννηθὲν ὑπ’ αὐτῆς ἀσθενὲς παντάπασιν, ὅτι ἀσθενοῦσα θεωρία ἀσθενὲς θεώρημα ποιεῖ: ἐπεὶ καὶ ἄνθρωποι, ὅταν ἀσθενήσωσιν εἰς τὸ θεωρεῖν, σκιὰν θεωρίας καὶ λόγου τὴν πρᾶξιν ποιοῦνται. ὅτι γὰρ μὴ ἱκανὸν αὐτοῖς τὸ τῆς θεωρίας ὑπ’ ἀσθενείας ψυχῆς, λαβεῖν οὐ δυνάμενοι τὸ θέαμα ἱκανῶς καὶ διὰ τοῦτο οὐ πληρούμενοι, ἐφιέμενοι δὲ αὐτὸ ἰδεῖν, εἰς πρᾶξιν φέρονται, ἵνα ἴδωσιν, ὃ μὴ νῷ ἐδύναντο. ὅταν γοῦν ποιῶσι, καὶ αὐτοὶ ὁρᾶν βούλονται αὐτὸ καὶ θεωρεῖν καὶ αἰσθάνεσθαι καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους, ὅταν ἡ πρόθεσις αὐτοῖς ὡς οἷόν τε πρᾶξις ᾖ. πανταχοῦ δὴ ἀνευρήσομεν τὴν ποίησιν καὶ τὴν πρᾶξιν ἢ ἀσθένειαν θεωρίας ἢ παρακολούθημα: ἀσθένειαν μέν, εἰ μηδέν τις ἔχοι μετὰ τὸ πραχθέν: παρακολούθημα δέ, εἰ ἔχοι ἄλλο πρὸ τούτου κρεῖττον τοῦ ποιηθέντος θεωρεῖν. τίς γὰρ θεωρεῖν τὸ ἀληθινὸν δυνάμενος προηγουμένως ἔρχεται ἐπὶ τὸ εἴδωλον τοῦ ἀληθινοῦ; μαρτυροῦσι δὲ καὶ οἱ νωθέστεροι τῶν παίδων, οἳ πρὸς τὰς μαθήσεις καὶ θεωρίας ἀδυνάτως ἔχοντες ἐπὶ τὰς τέχνας καὶ τὰς ἐργασίας καταφέρονται.

And if someone were to ask nature why it makes, if it were willing to listen to the questioner and speak, it would say: 'You ought not to have asked, but to have understood, you too, in silence, as I am silent and am not accustomed to speak. Understood what? That what comes to be is my spectacle, made while I was silent, an object of contemplation come to be by nature; and that, since I came to be from a contemplation of this kind, I have a nature that loves spectacle; and what contemplates in me makes an object of contemplation, as the geometers draw as they contemplate. But I do not draw; I contemplate, and the lines of bodies come to subsist as if falling out of me. And what happened to my mother and to those who begot me is mine too: for they also are from contemplation, and my birth came about with them doing nothing; but because they are greater rational forms and contemplate themselves, I have been begotten.' What does this mean? That what is called nature, being a soul, the offspring of a prior soul that lives more powerfully, having contemplation quietly within itself, directed neither upward nor yet downward, but standing where it is, in its own stillness and a kind of self-perception — by this understanding and self-perception it saw what comes after it, as far as it could, and sought nothing further, having brought to completion an object of contemplation, splendid and graceful. And if one wishes to grant it some understanding or perception, it is not the perception or understanding we speak of in other things, but as if one were to compare the awareness of sleep with that of one awake. For it contemplates its own object of contemplation and is at rest, an object that has come to be for it from its remaining in itself and with itself and being an object of contemplation; and its contemplation is soundless, but dimmer. For there is another, clearer to see than it; this one is an image of another contemplation. This is why what is begotten by it is altogether weak: a weak contemplation makes a weak object of contemplation. So also human beings, when they are too weak for contemplating, make action a shadow of contemplation and of reason. For because contemplation is not enough for them, through weakness of soul — unable to grasp the spectacle adequately and so not filled by it, yet aiming to see it — they are carried into action, so as to see what they could not see with intellect. At any rate, when they make something, they want to see it themselves and to contemplate it, and they want others to perceive it, whenever their purpose is, as far as possible, action. Everywhere, then, we shall find that making and action are either a weakness of contemplation or an accompaniment of it: a weakness, if one has nothing beyond what has been done; an accompaniment, if one has something else, prior to this, better than what has been made, to contemplate. For who, able to contemplate what is true, goes first of all to the image of what is true? The duller children bear witness too: unable for learning and contemplation, they sink down to the crafts and manual work.

porphyrian IV.3 · chronological 27 · chapter 22 · volkmann page vol. 2, 35

ἆρ’ οὖν οὕτω φατέον, ὅταν ψυχὴ σώματι παρῇ, παρεῖναι αὐτήν, ὡς τὸ πῦρ πάρεστι τῷ ἀέρι; καὶ γὰρ αὖ καὶ τοῦτο παρὸν οὐ πάρεστι καὶ δι’ ὅλου παρὸν οὐδενὶ μίγνυται καὶ ἕστηκε μὲν αὐτό, ὁ δὲ παραρρεῖ: καὶ ὅταν ἔξω γένηται τοῦ ἐν ᾧ τὸ φῶς, ἀπῆλθεν οὐδὲν ἔχων, ἕως δέ ἐστιν ὑπὸ τὸ φῶς, πεφώτισται, ὥστε ὀρθῶς ἔχειν καὶ ἐνταῦθα λέγειν, ὡς ὁ ἀὴρ ἐν τῷ φωτί, ἤπερ τὸ φῶς ἐν τῷ ἀέρι. διὸ καὶ Πλάτων καλῶς τὴν ψυχὴν οὐ θεὶς ἐν τῷ σώματι ἐπὶ τοῦ παντός, ἀλλὰ τὸ σῶμα ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ, φησὶ τὸ μέν τι εἶναι τῆς ψυχῆς ἐν ᾧ τὸ σῶμα, τὸ δὲ ἐν ᾧ σῶμα μηδέν, ὧν δηλονότι δυνάμεων οὐ δεῖται τῆς ψυχῆς τὸ σῶμα. καὶ δὴ καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν ἄλλων ψυχῶν ὁ αὐτὸς λόγος. τῶν μὲν [οὖν] ἄλλων δυνάμεων οὐδὲ παρουσίαν τῷ σώματι λεκτέον τῆς ψυχῆς εἶναι, ὧν δὲ δεῖται, ταῦτα παρεῖναι, καὶ παρεῖναι οὐκ ἐνιδρυθέντα τοῖς μέρεσιν αὐτοῦ οὐδ’ αὖ τῷ ὅλῳ, καὶ πρὸς μὲν αἴσθησιν παρεῖναι παντὶ τῷ αἰσθανομένῳ τὸ αἰσθητικόν, πρὸς δὲ ἐνεργείας ἤδη ἄλλο ἄλλῳ. λέγω δὲ ὧδε:

Should we say, then, that when soul is present to body it is present as fire is present to air? For this too, being present, is not present; and being present throughout, it mixes with nothing; it stands still itself, while the air flows past. And when the air comes to be outside the place where the light is, it goes off having nothing; but as long as it is under the light, it is lit. So it is right to say here too that the air is in the light, rather than the light in the air. This is why Plato did well, in the case of the whole, not to put the soul in the body but the body in the soul, and says that there is some part of soul in which the body is, and some part in which there is no body — those powers of soul, plainly, of which the body has no need. And the same account holds for the other souls too. Of the other powers we must not even say that there is a presence of soul to the body; but those it needs are present, and present not seated in its parts, nor again in the whole. For perception, the perceptive power is present to the whole of what perceives; for its activities, it is already a different part for a different one. I mean this:

porphyrian IV.3 · chronological 27 · chapter 23 · volkmann page vol. 2, 35-37

τοῦ σώματος πεφωτισμένου τοῦ ἐμψύχου ὑπὸ τῆς ψυχῆς ἄλλο ἄλλως μεταλαμβάνειν αὐτοῦ μέρος: καὶ κατὰ τὴν τοῦ ὀργάνου πρὸς τὸ ἔργον ἐπιτηδειότητα, δύναμιν τὴν προσήκουσαν εἰς τὸ ἔργον ἀποδιδοῦσαν, οὕτω τοι λέγεσθαι τὴν μὲν ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖς δύναμιν τὴν ὁρατικὴν εἶναι, τὴν δ’ ἐν ὠσὶ τὴν ἀκουστικήν, καὶ γευστικὴν ἐν γλώσσῃ, ὄσφρησιν ἐν ῥισί, τὴν δὲ ἁπτικὴν ἐν παντὶ παρεῖναι: πρὸς γὰρ ταύτην τὴν ἀντίληψιν πᾶν τὸ σῶμα ὄργανον τῇ ψυχῇ παρεῖναι. τῶν δὲ ἁπτικῶν ὀργάνων ἐν πρώτοις τοῖς νεύροις ὄντων, ἃ δὴ καὶ πρὸς τὴν κίνησιν τοῦ ζῴου τὴν δύναμιν ἔχει, ἐνταῦθα τῆς τοιαύτης δούσης ἑαυτήν, ἀρχομένων δὲ ἀπὸ ἐγκεφάλου τῶν νεύρων, τὴν τῆς αἰσθήσεως καὶ ὁρμῆς ἀρχὴν καὶ ὅλως παντὸς τοῦ ζῴου ἐνταῦθα ἔθεσαν φέροντες, οὗ δηλονότι αἱ ἀρχαὶ τῶν ὀργάνων, ἐκεῖ παρεῖναι τὸ χρησόμενον τιθέμενοι. βέλτιον δὲ λέγειν τὴν ἀρχὴν τῆς ἐνεργείας τῆς δυνάμεως ἐκεῖ: ὅθεν γὰρ ἔμελλε κινεῖσθαι τὸ ὄργανον, ἐκεῖ ἔδει οἷον ἐναπερείδεσθαι τὴν δύναμιν τοῦ τεχνίτου ἐκείνην τὴν τῷ ὀργάνῳ πρόσφορον, μᾶλλον δὲ οὐ τὴν δύναμιν: πανταχοῦ γὰρ ἡ δύναμις: ἐκεῖ δὲ τῆς ἐνεργείας ἡ ἀρχή, οὗ ἡ ἀρχὴ τοῦ ὀργάνου. ἐπεὶ οὖν ἡ τοῦ αἰσθάνεσθαι δύναμις καὶ ἡ τοῦ ὁρμᾶν ψυχῆς οὔσης αἰσθητικῆς καὶ φανταστικῆς φύσεως ἐπάνω ἑαυτῆς εἶχε τὸν λόγον, ὡς ἂν γειτονοῦσα πρὸς τὸ κάτω οὗ αὐτὴ ἐπάνω, ταύτῃ ἐτέθη τοῖς παλαιοῖς ἐν τοῖς ἄκροις τοῦ ζῴου παντὸς ἐπὶ τῆς κεφαλῆς, ὡς οὖσα οὐκ ἐν τῷ ἐγκεφάλῳ, ἀλλ’ ὡς ἐν τούτῳ τῷ αἰσθητικῷ, ᾧ ἐν τῷ ἐγκεφάλῳ ἐκεῖνος ἵδρυτο. τὸ μὲν γὰρ ἔδει σώματι διδόναι, καὶ τῷ σώματος μάλιστα τῆς ἐνεργείας δεκτικῷ, τὸ δὲ σώματι οὐδαμοῦ κοινωνοῦν πάντως ἐκείνῳ κοινωνεῖν ἔδει, ὃ ψυχῆς εἶδος ἦν καὶ ψυχῆς δυναμένης τὰς παρὰ τοῦ λόγου ἀντιλήψεις ποιεῖσθαι. αἰσθητικὸν γὰρ κριτικόν πως, καὶ φανταστικὸν οἷον νοερόν, καὶ ὁρμὴ καὶ ὄρεξις φαντασίᾳ καὶ λόγῳ ἑπόμενα. ἐκεῖ οὖν τὸ λογιζόμενον οὐχ ὡς ἐν τόπῳ, ἀλλ’ ὅτι τὸ ἐκεῖ ἀπολαύει αὐτοῦ. πῶς δὲ τὸ ἐκεῖ ἐπὶ τοῦ αἰσθητικοῦ, εἴρηται. τοῦ δὲ φυτικοῦ αὖ καὶ αὐξητικοῦ καὶ θρεπτικοῦ μηδενὸς ἀπολειπομένου, τρέφοντος δὲ τῷ αἵματι, τοῦ δὲ αἵματος τοῦ τρέφοντος ἐν φλεψὶν ὄντος, ἀρχῆς δὲ καὶ φλεβῶν καὶ αἵματος ἐν ἥπατι, ὅθεν ἐναπερειδομένης ταύτῃ τῆς δυνάμεως ἐνταῦθα ἡ τοῦ ἐπιθυμητικοῦ μοῖρα τῆς ψυχῆς οἰκεῖν ἀπεδόθη. ὃ γάρ τοι καὶ γεννᾷ καὶ τρέφει καὶ αὔξει, τοῦτο καὶ τούτων ἐπιθυμεῖν ἀνάγκη. τοῦ δὲ λεπτοῦ καὶ κούφου καὶ ὀξέος καὶ καθαροῦ αἵματος θυμῷ προσφόρου [ὄντος] ὀργάνου, ἡ τούτου πηγή: ἐνταῦθα γὰρ τὸ τοιοῦτον αἷμα ἀποκρίνεται: τῇ τοῦ θυμοῦ ζέσει πεποίηται οἴκησις πρέπουσα.

when the ensouled body has been lit by the soul, each part of it participates in it in a different way; and according to the fitness of the instrument for its work, soul gives the power suited to that work. So it is said that the power in the eyes is the power of sight, that in the ears the power of hearing, taste in the tongue, smell in the nostrils, while the power of touch is present in the whole — for with a view to this perception the whole body is present to the soul as its instrument. Since the instruments of touch are first in the nerves, which also have the power for the living being's movement, and since such a power gives itself there, and the nerves begin from the brain, they placed the principle of perception and impulse, and in general of the whole living being, there — supposing that where the principles of the instruments are, there the one who is to use them is present. But it is better to say that the principle of the power's activity is there. For where the instrument was to be moved from, there the power of the craftsman, the power suited to the instrument, had as it were to bear upon it; or rather not the power, for the power is everywhere, but the principle of its activity is there, where the principle of the instrument is. Since, then, the power of perceiving and the power of impulse, belonging to a soul that is perceptive and imaginative in nature, had reason above them, as neighbouring the lower from above, the ancients placed it at the extremity of the whole living being, in the head: not as being in the brain, but as being in this perceptive part, which was seated in the brain. For the one had to be given to the body, and to the part of the body most receptive of its activity; the other, which shares with body nowhere, had by all means to share with that which was a form of soul — of soul able to receive the apprehensions that come from reason. For the perceptive is in a way a judge, and the imaginative is as it were intellectual, and impulse and desire follow imagination and reason. The reasoning part, then, is there not as in a place, but because what is there enjoys it. How the perceptive part is 'there' has been said. Again, since the vegetative, growing and nourishing part is lacking nowhere, and nourishes by the blood, and the nourishing blood is in the veins, and the principle of the veins and of the blood is in the liver, the power as it were bearing on that point, there the desiring portion of the soul was assigned its dwelling. For what begets and nourishes and grows must also desire these things. And since blood that is thin and light and quick and pure is an instrument suited to spiritedness, its source — for there such blood is separated out — has been made a fitting dwelling for the boiling of spiritedness.

porphyrian VI.7 · chronological 38 · chapter 11 · volkmann page vol. 2, 437-440

λέγεται δὲ οὐδ’ ὁ οὐρανός, καὶ πολλὰ δὲ φαίνεται, οὐκ ἀτιμάσαι τὴν τῶν ζῴων πάντων φύσιν: ἐπεὶ καὶ τόδε τὸ πᾶν πάντα ἔχει. πόθεν οὖν ἔχει; πάντα οὖν ἔχει ὅσα ἐνταῦθα τὰ ἐκεῖ; ἢ ὅσα λόγῳ πεποίηται καὶ κατ’ εἶδος. ἀλλ’ ὅταν πῦρ ἔχῃ, καὶ ὕδωρ ἔχει, ἔχει δὲ πάντως καὶ φυτά. πῶς οὖν τὰ φυτὰ ἐκεῖ; καὶ πῶς πῦρ ζῇ; καὶ πῶς γῆ; ἢ γὰρ ζῇ, ἢ οἷον νεκρὰ ἔσται ἐκεῖ, ὥστε μὴ πᾶν τὸ ἐκεῖ ζῆν. καὶ τί ὅλως ἐστὶν ἐκεῖ καὶ ταῦτα; τὰ μὲν οὖν φυτὰ δύναιτ’ ἂν τῷ λόγῳ συναρμόσαι: ἐπεὶ καὶ τὸ τῇδε φυτὸν λόγος ἐστὶν ἐν ζωῇ κείμενος. εἰ δὴ ὁ ἔνυλος λόγος ὁ τοῦ φυτοῦ, καθ’ ὃν τὸ φυτόν ἐστι, ζωή τις ἐστὶ τοιάδε καὶ ψυχή τις καὶ ὁ λόγος ἕν τι, ἤτοι τὸ πρῶτον φυτόν ἐστιν οὗτος ἢ οὔ, ἀλλὰ πρὸ αὐτοῦ φυτὸν τὸ πρῶτον, ἀφ’ οὗ καὶ τοῦτο. καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖνο ἕν, ταῦτα δὲ πολλὰ καὶ ἀφ’ ἑνὸς ἐξ ἀνάγκης. εἰ δὴ τοῦτο, δεῖ πολὺ πρότερον ἐκεῖνο ζῆν καὶ αὐτὸ τοῦτο φυτὸν εἶναι, ἀπ’ ἐκείνου δὲ ταῦτα δευτέρως καὶ τρίτως καὶ κατ’ ἴχνος ἐκείνου ζῆν. γῆ δὲ πῶς; καὶ τί τὸ γῇ εἶναι; καὶ τίς ἡ ἐκεῖ γῆ τὸ ζῆν ἔχουσα; ἢ πρότερον τίς αὕτη: τοῦτο δ’ ἐστὶ τί τὸ εἶναι ταύτῃ. δεῖ δὴ μορφήν τινα εἶναι καὶ ἐνταῦθα καὶ λόγον. ἐκεῖ μὲν οὖν ἐπὶ τοῦ φυτοῦ ἔζη καὶ ὁ τῇδε αὐτοῦ λόγος. ἆρ’ οὖν καὶ ἐν τῇδε τῇ γῇ; ἤ, εἰ λάβοιμεν τὰ μάλιστα γήινα γεννώμενα καὶ πλαττόμενα ἐν αὐτῇ, εὕροιμεν ἂν καὶ ἐνταῦθα τὴν γῆς φύσιν. λίθων τοίνυν αὐξήσεις τε καὶ πλάσεις καὶ ὀρῶν ἀναφυομένων ἔνδον μορφώσεις πάντως που λόγου ἐμψύχου δημιουργοῦντος ἔνδοθεν καὶ εἰδοποιοῦντος χρὴ νομίζειν γίνεσθαι, καὶ τοῦτο εἶναι τὸ εἶδος τῆς γῆς τὸ ποιοῦν, ὥσπερ ἐν τοῖς δένδροις τὴν λεγομένην φύσιν, τῷ δὲ ξύλῳ τοῦ δένδρου ἀνάλογον τὴν λεγομένην εἶναι γῆν, καὶ ἀποτμηθέντα τὸν λίθον οὕτως ἔχειν, ὡς εἰ ἐκ τοῦ δένδρου τι κοπείη, μὴ παθόντος δὲ τούτου, ἀλλ’ ἔτι συνηρτημένου, ὡς τὸ μὴ κοπὲν ἐκ τοῦ ζῶντος φυτοῦ. τὴν [δὴ] δημιουργοῦσαν ἐγκαθημένην τῇ γῇ φύσιν ζωὴν ἐν λόγῳ ἀνευρόντες πιστοίμεθα ἂν τὸ ἐντεῦθεν ῥᾳδίως τὴν ἐκεῖ γῆν πολὺ πρότερον ζῶσαν εἶναι καὶ ζωὴν ἔλλογον γῆς, αὐτογῆν καὶ πρώτως γῆν, ἀφ’ ἧς καὶ ἡ ἐνταῦθα γῆ. εἰ δὲ καὶ τὸ πῦρ λόγος τις ἐν ὕλῃ ἐστὶ καὶ τὰ ἄλλα τὰ τοιαῦτα καὶ οὐκ ἐκ τοῦ αὐτομάτου πῦρ — πόθεν γάρ; οὐ γὰρ ἐκ παρατρίψεως, ὡς ἄν τις οἰηθείη: ἤδη γὰρ ὄντος ἐν τῷ παντὶ πυρὸς ἡ παράτριψις ἐχόντων τῶν παρατριβομένων σωμάτων: οὐδὲ γὰρ ἡ ὕλη οὕτως δυνάμει, ὥστε παρ’ αὐτῆς: εἰ δὴ κατὰ λόγον δεῖ τὸ ποιοῦν εἶναι ὡς μορφοῦν, τί ἂν εἴη; ἢ ψυχὴ ποιεῖν πῦρ δυναμένη: τοῦτο δ’ ἐστὶ ζωὴ καὶ λόγος, ἓν καὶ ταὐτὸν ἄμφω. διὸ καὶ Πλάτων ἐν ἑκάστῳ τούτων ψυχήν φησιν εἶναι οὐκ ἄλλως ἢ ὡς ποιοῦσαν τοῦτο δὴ τὸ αἰσθητὸν πῦρ. ἔστιν οὖν καὶ τὸ ἐνταῦθα ποιοῦν πῦρ ζωή τις πυρίνη, ἀληθέστερον πῦρ. τὸ ἄρα ἐπέκεινα πῦρ μᾶλλον ὂν πῦρ μᾶλλον ἂν εἴη ἐν ζωῇ: ζῇ ἄρα καὶ αὐτὸ τὸ πῦρ. ὁ δ’ αὐτὸς λόγος καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν ἄλλων, ὕδατός τε καὶ ἀέρος. ἀλλὰ διὰ τί οὐκ ἔμψυχα καὶ ταῦτα ὥσπερ ἡ γῆ; ὅτι μὲν οὖν καὶ ταῦτα ἐν ζῴῳ τῷ παντί, δῆλόν που, καὶ ὅτι μέρη ζῴου: οὐ φαίνεται δὲ ζωὴ ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὥσπερ οὐδ’ ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς: συλλογίζεσθαι δ’ ἦν κἀκεῖ καὶ ἐκ τῶν γινομένων ἐν αὐτῇ: ἀλλὰ γίνεται καὶ ἐν πυρὶ ζῷα, καὶ ἐν ὕδατι δὲ φανερώτερον: καὶ ἀέρινοι δὲ ζῴων συστάσεις. γινόμενον δὲ τὸ πῦρ ἕκαστον καὶ ταχὺ σβεννύμενον τὴν ἐν τῷ ὅλῳ ψυχὴν παρέρχεται εἴς τε ὄγκον οὐ γεγένηται μένον, ἵν’ [ἂν] ἔδειξε τὴν ἐν αὐτῷ ψυχήν, ἀήρ τε καὶ ὕδωρ ὡσαύτως: ἐπεί, εἰ παγείη πως κατὰ φύσιν, δείξειεν ἄν: ἀλλ’ ὅτι ἔδει εἶναι κεχυμένα, ἣν ἔχει οὐ δείκνυσι. καὶ κινδυνεύει ὅμοιον εἶναι οἷον τὸ ἐπὶ τῶν ὑγρῶν τῶν ἐν ἡμῖν, οἷον αἵματος: ἡ μὲν γὰρ σὰρξ ἔχειν δοκεῖ καὶ ὅ τι ἂν σὰρξ γένηται ἐκ τοῦ αἵματος, τὸ δ’ αἷμα αἴσθησιν οὐ παρεχόμενον ἔχειν οὐ δοκεῖ. καίτοι ἀνάγκη ἐνεῖναι καὶ ἐν αὐτῷ: ἐπεὶ καὶ οὐδέν ἐστι βίαιον γινόμενον περὶ αὐτό, ἀλλ’ ἕτοιμόν ἐστι διεστάναι τῆς ἐνυπαρχούσης ψυχῆς, οἷον καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν στοιχείων τῶν τριῶν δεῖ νομίζειν εἶναι: ἐπεὶ καὶ ὅσα ἐξ ἀέρος συστάντος μᾶλλον ζῷα ἔχει τὸ μὴ αἰσθάνεσθαι εἰς τὸ παθεῖν. ὥσπερ δὲ ὁ ἀὴρ τὸ φῶς ἀτενὲς ὂν καὶ μένον, ἕως μένει αὐτός, παρέρχεται, τοῦτον τὸν τρόπον πάρεισι καὶ τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ κύκλῳ καὶ οὐ πάρεισι: καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ὡσαύτως.

Not even the heaven, it is said — and many things appear in it — disdained the nature of every kind of living being; for this universe too has all things. From where, then, does it have them? Has it, then, all the things that are here — are they there? Or all that has been made by rational form and according to form. But when it has fire, it also has water, and by all means it has plants too. How, then, are plants there? And how does fire live? And how earth? For either it lives, or it will be there as if dead, so that not everything there lives. And what, at all, are these things there? Plants, then, could be fitted to the account; for the plant here too is a rational form set in life. If, then, the enmattered rational form of the plant, by which the plant is, is a life of a certain kind and a soul of some sort, and the rational form is some one thing, then either it is the first plant or it is not, but before it there is the first plant, from which this one too comes. For that is one, and these are many, and from one of necessity. If so, that one must live much before, and be itself this very thing, plant; and from it these live secondarily and thirdly, and after its track. But earth — how? And what is being earth? And what is the earth there that has life? Or first, what is this earth — that is, what is being, for it? There must be some shape here too, and a rational form. There, in the case of the plant, even its rational form here was living. Is it so in this earth too? Or, if we took the most earthy things begotten and moulded in it, we should find here too the nature of earth. The growths and mouldings of stones, then, and the inner shapings of mountains as they spring up, we must think come about by all means through an ensouled rational form crafting from within and giving form; and this is the form of earth, the one that makes, as in trees what is called nature, while what is called earth is analogous to the wood of the tree; and the stone cut out is as if something were cut from the tree — not when it has suffered this, but while still attached, like what is not cut from the living plant. Having found, then, that the crafting nature seated in the earth is a life in a rational form, we should easily be persuaded from here that the earth there is living much before, a rational life of earth, earth itself and earth primarily, from which the earth here too comes. And if fire too is a rational form in matter, and the other things of this kind, and fire does not come from chance — for from where? Not from rubbing, as one might think, for rubbing happens when there is already fire in the universe and the bodies rubbed have it; nor is matter so potentially fire that fire comes from it — if, then, what makes must make according to rational form, as shaping, what would it be? Or it is a soul able to make fire; and this is a life and a rational form, the two one and the same. This is why Plato says there is a soul in each of these, in no other way than as making this sensible fire. The fire-making thing here, then, is a kind of fiery life, a truer fire. The fire beyond, then, being more fire, would be more in life: fire itself, then, lives. The same account holds of the others, water and air. But why are these not ensouled, as earth is? That they too are in the universal living being is plain, I suppose, and that they are parts of a living being; but life does not show in them, just as it does not in earth either — though there it could be inferred from the things that come to be in it. But living beings come to be in fire too, and in water more plainly, and there are compositions of living beings in air. Each fire, coming to be and quickly quenched, passes by the soul in the whole, and does not become a mass that remains so as to show the soul in it; and air and water likewise. For if they were somehow made firm according to nature, they would show it; but because they had to be diffused, they do not show the soul they have. And it may be as with the liquids in us, such as blood: flesh seems to have soul, and whatever of the blood becomes flesh, but the blood, since it affords no perception, does not seem to have it. Yet it must be in it too, since nothing forced happens to it, but it is ready to separate from the soul present in it; and so we must think it is with the three elements. For even those living beings composed more of air have this: they do not perceive so as to be affected. As air passes by the light, which is unyielding and remains, for as long as the air itself remains, so it passes by the soul around it and does not pass by it; and the others likewise.

porphyrian VI.7 · chronological 38 · chapter 12 · volkmann page vol. 2, 440-441

ἀλλὰ πάλιν ὧδε λέγωμεν: ἐπεὶ γάρ φαμεν πρὸς οἷον παράδειγμα ἐκείνου τόδε τὸ πᾶν εἶναι, δεῖ κἀκεῖ πρότερον τὸ πᾶν ζῷον εἶναι καί, εἰ παντελὲς τὸ εἶναι αὐτῷ, πάντα εἶναι. καὶ οὐρανὸν δὴ ἐκεῖ ζῷον εἶναι, καὶ οὐκ ἔρημον τοίνυν ἄστρων, τῶν ἐνταῦθα τοῦτο λεγομένων οὐρανόν, καὶ τὸ οὐρανῷ εἶναι τοῦτο. ἔστι δ’ ἐκεῖ δηλονότι καὶ γῆ οὐκ ἔρημος, ἀλλὰ πολὺ μᾶλλον ἐζωωμένη, καὶ ἔστιν ἐν αὐτῇ ζῷα ξύμπαντα, ὅσα πεζὰ καὶ χερσαῖα λέγεται ἐνταῦθα, καὶ φυτὰ δηλονότι ἐν τῷ ζῆν ἱδρυμένα: καὶ θάλασσα δέ ἐστιν ἐκεῖ, καὶ πᾶν ὕδωρ ἐν ῥοῇ καὶ ζωῇ μενούσῃ, καὶ τὰ ἐν ὕδατι ζῷα πάντα, ἀέρος τε φύσις τοῦ ἐκεῖ παντὸς μοῖρα, καὶ ζῷα ἀέρια ἐν αὐτῷ ἀνὰ λόγον αὐτῷ τῷ ἀέρι. τὰ γὰρ ἐν ζῶντι πῶς ἂν οὐ ζῶντα; ὅπου δὴ καὶ ἐνταῦθα. πῶς οὖν οὐ πᾶν ζῷον ἐξ ἀνάγκης ἐκεῖ; ὡς γὰρ ἕκαστον τῶν μεγάλων μερῶν ἐστιν, ἐξ ἀνάγκης οὕτως ἔχει καὶ ἡ τῶν ζῴων ἐν αὐτοῖς φύσις. ὅπως οὖν ἔχει καὶ ἔστιν ἐκεῖ οὐρανός, οὕτω καὶ ἔχει καὶ ἔστιν ἐκεῖ τὰ ἐν οὐρανῷ ζῷα πάντα, καὶ οὐκ ἔστι μὴ εἶναι: ἢ οὐδ’ ἐκεῖνος ἔσται. ὁ οὖν ζητῶν πόθεν ζῷα, ζητεῖ πόθεν οὐρανὸς ἐκεῖ: τοῦτο δ’ ἐστὶ ζητεῖν πόθεν ζῷον, τοῦτο δὲ ταὐτὸν [τῷ] πόθεν ζωὴ καὶ ζωὴ πᾶσα καὶ ψυχὴ πᾶσα καὶ νοῦς ὁ ξύμπας, μηδεμιᾶς ἐκεῖ πενίας μηδ’ ἀπορίας οὔσης, ἀλλὰ πάντων ζωῆς πεπληρωμένων καὶ οἷον ζεόντων. ἔστι δ’ αὐτῶν ἡ οἷον ῥοὴ ἐκ μιᾶς πηγῆς, οὐχ οἷον ἑνός τινος πνεύματος ἢ θερμότητος μιᾶς, ἀλλ’ οἷον εἴ τις ἦν ποιότης μία πάσας ἐν αὐτῇ ἔχουσα καὶ σώζουσα τὰς ποιότητας, γλυκύτης μετ’ εὐωδίας, καὶ ὁμοῦ οἰνώδης ποιότης καὶ χυλῶν ἁπάντων δυνάμεις καὶ χρωμάτων ὄψεις καὶ ὅσα ἁφαὶ γινώσκουσιν. ἔστωσαν δὲ καὶ ὅσα ἀκοαὶ ἀκούουσι, πάντα μέλη καὶ ῥυθμὸς πᾶς.

But let us put it again, like this. Since we say that this universe is after the pattern, as it were, of that one, there too the whole must first be a living being, and, if its being is complete, it must be all things. And the heaven there must be a living being, and not bare, then, of the stars — the things here called heaven; and this is what being heaven is. And there is plainly earth there too, not bare but far more alive, and in it are all the living beings that here are called walking and land-dwelling, and plants plainly, seated in life; and there is sea there, and all water in flow and in a life that remains, and all the living beings in water; and the nature of air is a portion of the universe there, and living beings of the air in it, answering to the air itself. For how could what is in a living thing not be living? Even here it is so. How, then, could every living being not be there of necessity? For as each of the great parts is, so of necessity is the nature of the living beings in them. As, then, the heaven there has its way and is, so too all the living beings in the heaven have their way and are there, and they cannot not be; or else the heaven itself will not be. Whoever asks, then, where living beings come from, asks where the heaven there comes from; and this is to ask where the living being comes from; and this is the same as where life comes from, and all life and all soul and intellect entire — there being no poverty there and no want, but all things filled with life and as it were boiling. And their flow is as it were from one spring: not as from some one breath or one warmth, but as if there were one quality holding and keeping all the qualities in itself — sweetness with fragrance, and at once the quality of wine and the powers of all flavours, and the sights of colours, and all that touch knows; and let there be also all that hearing hears, every melody and every rhythm.

porphyrian VI.7 · chronological 38 · chapter 13 · volkmann page vol. 2, 441-443

ἔστι γὰρ οὔτε νοῦς ἁπλοῦν, οὔτε ἡ ἐξ αὐτοῦ ψυχή, ἀλλὰ ποικίλα πάντα ὅσῳ ἁπλᾶ, τοῦτο δὲ ὅσῳ μὴ σύνθετα καὶ ὅσῳ ἀρχαὶ καὶ ὅσῳ ἐνέργειαι. τοῦ μὲν γὰρ ἐσχάτου ἡ ἐνέργεια ὡς ἂν λήγουσα ἁπλῆ, τοῦ δὲ πρώτου πᾶσαι: νοῦς τε κινούμενος κινεῖται μὲν ὡσαύτως καὶ κατὰ ταὐτὰ καὶ ὅμοια ἀεί, οὐ μέντοι ταὐτὸν καὶ ἕν τι ἐν μέρει, ἀλλὰ πάντα: ἐπεὶ καὶ τὸ ἐν μέρει αὖ οὐχ ἕν, ἀλλὰ καὶ τοῦτο ἄπειρον διαιρούμενον. ἀπὸ τίνος δὲ φαῖμεν ἂν καὶ πάντως ἐπὶ τί, ὡς ἔσχατον. τὸ δὲ μεταξὺ πᾶν ἆρα ὥσπερ γραμμή, ἢ ὥσπερ ἕτερον σῶμα ὁμοιομερές τι καὶ ἀποίκιλον; ἀλλὰ τί τὸ σεμνόν; εἰ γὰρ μηδεμίαν ἔχει ἐξαλλαγὴν μηδέ τις ἐξεγείρει αὐτὸ εἰς τὸ ζῆν ἑτερότης, οὐδ’ ἂν ἐνέργεια εἴη: οὐδὲν γὰρ ἂν ἡ τοιαύτη κατάστασις μὴ ἐνεργείας διαφέροι. κἂν κίνησις δὲ ᾖ τοιαύτη, οὐ πανταχῶς, μοναχῶς δ’ ἂν εἴη ζωή: δεῖ δὲ πάντα ζῆν καὶ πανταχόθεν καὶ οὐδὲν μὴ ζῆν. ἐπὶ πάντα οὖν κινεῖσθαι δεῖ, μᾶλλον δὲ κεκινῆσθαι. ἁπλοῦν δὲ εἰ κινοῖτο, ἐκεῖνο μόνον ἔχει, καὶ ἢ αὐτὸ καὶ οὐ προύβη εἰς οὐδέν, ἢ εἰ προύβη, ἄλλο μένον: ὥστε δύο: καὶ εἰ ταὐτὸν τοῦτο ἐκείνῳ, μένει ἓν καὶ οὐ προελήλυθεν, εἰ δ’ ἕτερον, προῆλθε μετὰ ἑτερότητος καὶ ἐποίησεν ἐκ ταὐτοῦ τινος καὶ ἑτέρου τρίτον ἕν. γενόμενον δὴ ἐκ ταὐτοῦ καὶ ἑτέρου τὸ γενόμενον φύσιν ἔχει ταὐτὸν καὶ ἕτερον εἶναι: ἕτερον δὲ οὐ τί, ἀλλὰ πᾶν ἕτερον: καὶ γὰρ τὸ ταὐτὸν αὐτοῦ πᾶν. πᾶν δὲ ταὐτὸν ὂν καὶ πᾶν ἕτερον οὐκ ἔστιν ὅ τι ἀπολείπει τῶν ἑτέρων. φύσιν ἄρα ἔχει ἐπὶ πᾶν ἑτεροιοῦσθαι. εἰ μὲν οὖν ἐστι πρὸ αὐτοῦ τὰ ἕτερα πάντα, ἤδη πάσχοι ἂν ὑπ’ αὐτῶν: εἰ δὲ μή ἐστιν, οὗτος τὰ πάντα ἐγέννα, μᾶλλον δὲ τὰ πάντα ἦν. οὐκ ἔστιν ἄρα τὰ ὄντα εἶναι μὴ νοῦ ἐνεργήσαντος, ἐνεργήσαντος δὲ ἀεὶ ἄλλο μετ’ ἄλλο καὶ οἷον πλανηθέντος πᾶσαν πλάνην καὶ ἐν αὐτῷ πλανηθέντος, οἷα νοῦς ἐν αὐτῷ ὁ ἀληθινὸς πέφυκε πλανᾶσθαι: πέφυκε δ’ ἐν οὐσίαις πλανᾶσθαι συνθεουσῶν τῶν οὐσιῶν ταῖς αὐτοῦ πλάναις. πανταχοῦ δ’ αὐτός ἐστι: μένουσαν οὖν ἔχει τὴν πλάνην. ἡ δὲ πλάνη αὐτῷ ἐν τῷ τῆς ἀληθείας πεδίῳ, οὗ οὐκ ἐκβαίνει. ἔχει δὲ καταλαβὼν πᾶν καὶ αὐτῷ ποιήσας εἰς τὸ κινεῖσθαι οἷον τόπον, καὶ ὁ τόπος ὁ αὐτὸς τῷ οὗ τόπος. ποικίλον δέ ἐστι τὸ πεδίον τοῦτο, ἵνα καὶ διεξίοι: εἰ δὲ μὴ κατὰ πᾶν καὶ ἀεὶ ποικίλον, καθ’ ὅσον μὴ ποικίλον, ἕστηκεν. εἰ δ’ ἕστηκεν, οὐ νοεῖ: ὥστε καί, εἰ ἔστη, οὐ νενόηκεν: εἰ δὲ τοῦτο, οὐδ’ ἔστιν. ἔστιν οὖν νόησις: ἡ δὲ κίνησις πᾶσα πληροῦσα οὐσίαν πᾶσαν, καὶ ἡ πᾶσα οὐσία νόησις πᾶσα ζωὴν περιλαβοῦσα πᾶσαν, καὶ μετ’ ἄλλο ἀεὶ ἄλλο, καὶ ὅτι αὐτοῦ ταὐτὸν καὶ ἄλλο, καὶ διαιροῦντι ἀεὶ τὸ ἄλλο ἀναφαίνεται. πᾶσα δὲ διὰ ζωῆς ἡ πορεία καὶ διὰ ζῴων πᾶσα, ὥσπερ καὶ τῷ διὰ γῆς ἰόντι πάντα, ἃ διέξεισι, γῆ, κἂν διαφορὰς ἔχῃ ἡ γῆ. καὶ ἐκεῖ ἡ μὲν ζωὴ δι’ ἧς ἡ αὐτή, ὅτι δὲ ἀεὶ ἄλλη, οὐχ ἡ αὐτή. ἀεὶ δ’ ἔχων τὴν αὐτὴν διὰ τῶν οὐκ αὐτῶν διέξοδον, ὅτι μὴ ἀμείβει, ἀλλὰ σύνεστι τοῖς ἄλλοις τὸ ὡσαύτως καὶ κατὰ ταὐτά: ἐὰν γὰρ μὴ περὶ τὰ ἄλλα τὸ ὡσαύτως καὶ κατὰ τὰ αὐτά, ἀργεῖ πάντη καὶ τὸ ἐνεργείᾳ καὶ ἡ ἐνέργεια οὐδαμοῦ. ἔστι δὲ καὶ τὰ ἄλλα αὐτός, ὥστε πᾶς αὐτός. καὶ εἴπερ αὐτός, πᾶς, εἰ δὲ μή, οὐκ αὐτός. εἰ δὲ πᾶς αὐτός, καὶ πᾶς, ὅτι τὰ πάντα, καὶ οὐδὲν ἔστιν, ὅ τι μὴ συντελεῖ εἰς τὰ πάντα, οὐδὲν ἔστιν αὐτοῦ, ὅ τι μὴ ἄλλο, ἵνα ἄλλο ὂν καὶ τοῦτο συντελῇ. εἰ γὰρ μὴ ἄλλο, ἀλλὰ ταὐτόν, ἐλαττώσει αὐτοῦ τὴν οὐσίαν ἰδίαν οὐ παρεχόμενον εἰς συντέλειαν αὐτοῦ φύσιν.

For neither is intellect simple, nor the soul that comes from it; all things are varied in the measure that they are simple — that is, in the measure that they are not composite, and are principles, and are activities. For the activity of the last, as it gives out, is simple, but that of the first is all activities. And intellect, when it moves, moves in the same way and in the same respects and alike always, yet not as the same and one thing in part, but as all things; for what is in part is again not one either, but this too is divided without limit. From what shall we say it sets out, and to what, as last, by all means? And is all that lies between like a line, or like another body, homogeneous and unvaried? But what would be august in that? For if it has no change, and no otherness wakes it to life, it would not even be activity; for such a condition would differ in nothing from non-activity. And even if its motion were of this kind, it would be life not in every way but in one way only; but all things must live, and from every side, and nothing not live. It must be moved, then, toward all things — or rather, have been moved. If a simple thing were moved, it has that alone; and either it is itself and has gone forward into nothing, or, if it went forward, it is another, while it remains: so there are two. And if this is the same as that, it remains one and has not gone forth; but if other, it went forth with otherness, and made from something same and something other a third, which is one. What has come to be from same and other has the nature of being same and other; and other not in some respect, but wholly other, for its sameness too is whole. Being wholly same and wholly other, there is nothing of the others it falls short of. It has, then, a nature to be othered toward everything. If all the others are before it, it would already be affected by them; but if they are not, this begot all things, or rather was all things. It is not possible, then, for the things that are to be, unless intellect had acted — acting always one thing after another, and as it were wandering every wandering and wandering in itself, the wandering the true intellect is by nature fitted to wander in itself; and it is fitted by nature to wander among substances, the substances running along with its wanderings. But it is itself everywhere; so its wandering is one that remains. And its wandering is in the plain of truth, from which it does not step out. It holds the whole plain, having taken it and made it for itself a place, as it were, for its moving; and the place is the same as that whose place it is. And this plain is varied, so that it may also be traversed; if it were not in every respect and always varied, then in so far as it was not varied it would stand still. And if it stands still, it does not think; so that, if it had stood still, it has not thought; and if so, it is not. It is, then, thinking; and its motion is whole, filling the whole of substance, and the whole of substance is the whole of thinking, embracing the whole of life, always another after another; and what is the same of it is also other, and to one who divides, the other always comes to light. And all its journey is through life and through living beings, as for one going through earth everything he passes through is earth, even if the earth has differences. There the life through which it goes is the same, but because it is always other, not the same. It always has the same passage through things not the same, because it does not exchange them, but the same-in-the-same-respects is present with the others; for if the same-in-the-same-respects is not about other things, it is idle altogether, and the actual and activity are nowhere. It is itself the others too, so that it is itself whole; and if it is itself, it is whole, and if not, it is not itself. And if it is itself whole, it is also whole because it is all things, and there is nothing that does not contribute to all things; there is nothing of it that is not other, so that this too, being other, may contribute. For if it were not other but the same, it would diminish its substance, not providing its own nature toward its completion.