3.1 Productive Contemplation

According to treatise III.8, everything stems from contemplation, participates in contemplation and aims at contemplation whenever possible (cf. III.8.7). After all, Intellect, as the structure of the intelligible forms and the paradigm of everything below it, is also an activity of self-contemplation. Consequently, everything that participates in Intellect also participates in contemplation. The being of each thing becomes, on the model of Intellect, the active performance of self-relation. There is thus a continuum of productive contemplation (cf. III.8.8), or as Plotinus puts it, “that which is produced must always be of the same kind as its producer, but weaker through losing its virtue as it comes down” (III.8.5.23–24). Specifically, there is Intellect, which contemplates itself as contemplation, so that there is a unity of contemplation and of that which is contemplated. Next, we find soul, whose upper part contemplates Intellect, but as something in soul, i.e. as λόγοι, and in this sense, what it tries to reach remains external to it. The lower part of soul, nature, contemplates these λόγοι, according to which it creates, but they are external to it because they reside in the upper soul (cf. Roloff 1970, pp. 17–22).³ As can be seen, the differentiation of these various levels of knowledge is caused by the gradual disintegration of the unity of contemplation and its object, as it is found in Intellect (cf. III.8.8). Moreover, this disintegration leads to decreasing clarity of contemplation on each individual level, as we descend from the Intellect (cf. III.8.8 and VI.7.7).

As a result, it is also possible to say, albeit in a very specific sense, that there is a supreme kind of contemplation in the Good, which is marked by utter unity. However, we must not understand this unique kind of contemplation as implying any form of duality: we must neither differentiate the Good from its knowledge, nor distinguish between the subject of knowing in the Good and the object known (cf. V.6.6). At the same time, simply to draw the conclusion that the Good does not know itself would be at least as erroneous. “Not knowing” not only implies the same duality between knower and known, but also a deficiency. For this reason, one can say neither that the Good knows itself, nor that it does not know itself (cf. VI.9.6, VI.7.37), for it is beyond knowing (cf. V.3.12, VI.7.40). The contemplation of the Good must be understood as a form of touching or contact with itself (θίξις καὶ οἷον ἐπαφὴ; V.3.10.41–44), simple concentration (ἁπλῆ ἐπιβολὴ; VI.7.39.1–2) or immediate self-consciousness (συναίσθησις; V.4.2.18). All of these are ways in which Plotinus tries to express the absolute transcendence of the Good, which, at the same time, implies the superlative possession of every predicate, in the sense of being its source. When not speaking correctly (οὐκ ὀρθῶς; cf. VI.8.13), Plotinus even dares to say that, in a sense, the Good generates itself by looking at itself (cf. VI.8.16). In this way, we may conclude that there is a continuity of contemplation even between the Good and the Intellect, although it is, at the same time, accompanied by insurmountable transcendence of the first principle.⁴

This very brief summary gives us a rough idea of the sense in which contemplation is knowledge. Plotinus goes a step further, however: all contemplation is creative or fruitful. The Good is creative in the sense of overflowing—since it is perfectly complete (cf. V.2.1, V.1.6, V.3.12, IV.8.6, V.5.12)—or emanating (cf. V.1.6), while remaining in itself (cf. V.5.12), similar to how the sun shines. In its overflowing, Intellect comes to be that which emanates from the Good, turns back to it, receives an imprint from it and thus is constituted (cf. III.4.1, VI.7.16).

In a different context, Plotinus systematically presents his concept of productive contemplation as a double activity that is both internal (ἐνέργεια τῆς οὐσίας) and external (ἐνέργεια ἐκ τῆς οὐσίας; cf. V.2.1 and especially V.4).⁵ The internal activity here denotes the act of self-relation or contemplation in virtue of which everything is what it is. This internal activity is completed by the external activity, which Plotinus expresses with the help of the metaphors of pregnancy and begetting (cf. V.1.6, V.2.1, V.4.1), emanative overflowing (cf. V.1.6, V.2.1) and illumination (cf. V.1.6, V.3.12). In all of these cases, the external activity is said to be an image of the internal one (cf. IV.5.7, V.1.6, V.2.1, V.3.7). As the metaphors of a spring and a source of light suggest, the external activity is fully dependent on the internal one: if the internal activity were to stop, so too would the external one. Conversely, the external activity in no way diminishes or changes the internal one. It is thus more appropriate to conceive of them not as two separate activities, but as one double activity (cf. II.9.8), in the sense of Plotinus’ notion of absolute motions (ἀπόλυτοι κινήσεις; cf. VI.1.22 and VI.3.21–26). By “absolute motion”, he means that a motion does not need to be completed by its end, as Aristotle thinks.⁶ This only seems to be the case when we delimit the motion, by qualifying it with some kind of quality or extent (cf. VI.1.16). Examples of absolute motions include, for Plotinus, walking, talking, dancing (cf. VI.3.22), writing (cf. VI.1.19), thinking (cf. VI.1.22), burning or the action of a drug in a body (cf. VI.1.22, V.4.1). All of these are activities that are directed towards themselves and not towards some external end. Nevertheless, in all of these cases there is also something external that these activities produce in an entirely incidental manner, e.g. fire, a drug and walking respectively produce heat, health and footprints. The external act here is merely an expression of the internal one: it is not an independent act, but something produced incidentally, albeit necessarily. The inner activity of the Good described above with reference to treatise VI.8 is, in this sense, called absolute (VI.8.20.4–8). Correspondingly, Intellect is said either to be or to contain a trace (ἴχνος) of the Good (cf. III.8.11, V.5.5, VI.7.17, VI.8.18) and its generation is, in this sense, the external activity of the Good.

Since the concept of internal and external activity is a tool that is employed systematically, we may also apply it to the other hypostases.⁷ The internal activity of the Intellect is its unique way of thinking itself as the plurality of ideas. What makes it unique is the complete identity of contemplation and its object (cf. III.8.8), a topic that Plotinus also discusses in treatise V.8.4, which I shall address in section 3.4. What, then, is the external activity of the Intellect? In treatise III.2.1–2, Plotinus says that Intellect, while remaining in itself, gives something of itself to matter, i.e. λόγοι, with the help of which Intellect creates everything. At the same time, however, the starting point of the sensible universe, which is, in this sense, a mixture of matter and λόγοι, is soul (cf. III.2.2). As already noted in section 2.3, sensibles can be said to be caused both by the soul and by the Intellect. The former explanation is to be understood as being more advanced or detailed than the latter. It is through λόγοι that soul organises the universe (cf. III.5.9). Every soul possesses all of the λόγοι as a single λόγος, but, so to speak, divides and distributes this λόγος out into the world (cf. III.2.17, IV.4.16). But is the soul then not the real product of Intellect? It is, because λόγος is merely an image of Intellect in the soul and, in this sense, it is soul itself, i.e. a soul which has received an imprint from the Intellect after turning back to it (cf. Deck 1967, p. 61). Therefore, soul is also said to be a trace (ἴχνος) of Intellect, i.e. its external activity (cf. V.1.7, VI.7.20) and also a λόγος and εἰκών of it (cf. III.8.2 and V.1.3).

Of course, there is some sort of creativity even in the contemplation engaged in by soul, or rather in both of its parts (i.e. the upper part and the lower part), as well as in both kinds of soul (i.e. the world soul and individual souls).⁸ Nature is said to be an unmoved λόγος silently contemplating itself, which gives a share of itself to the substrate of the sensible world (cf. III.8.2–3), and eternally gives rise to it (cf. III.4.4, IV.3.6, IV.3.9). However, nature itself is a product of the contemplation engaged in by the higher part of soul, which Plotinus claims is clearer and always illuminated by the Intellect, as compared to the blurry and weak contemplation occurring in nature (cf. III.8.4–5). Deck (1967, pp. 42–46) takes these passages to be using ποίησις in a looser sense than when it is used in relation to Intellect. The higher part of the soul creates by projecting itself into its product, i.e. into nature. In this sense, there is a combination of mobility and immobility, since the higher part of the soul simultaneously remains in itself and projects itself downwards (cf. V.2.1). The same principle applies to nature, but to an even higher degree, because it creates matter and then turns towards it again in order to form it (cf. III.9.3, IV.3.9, III.4.1).

With this conception of creative contemplation, Plotinus is able to maintain both continuity and hierarchy in his universe. This will be needed in order to defend the beauty of the sensible world not only in treatise V.8, but also, above all, in II.9. After all, Plotinus begins V.8 with a clear reference to his notion of contemplation.

3.2 The Defence of τέχνη and Sensible Beauty

Like treatise I.6, Ennead V.8 also promotes the notion of beauty as form. However, the reasoning is slightly different here. Plotinus begins by rejecting the view that the cause of beauty is matter⁹ or a physical property, like colour or shape (cf. V.8.2.4–9 and Beutler-Theiler’s com. ad V.8.2.6). He then proclaims the form in which a given thing participates as the true source of sensible beauty (cf. V.8.2.14–16), before finally giving support to his thesis by means of a brief debate with an imaginary opponent, to whom he first objects that if mass (ὄγκος)¹⁰ was beauty, the reason-principle (λόγος)—which his opponent acknowledges to be the productive principle in contrast to mass—would not, as the opposite of mass, be beautiful. Given the principle of the superiority of the cause, however, this implication is unacceptable to Plotinus (cf. V.8.2.19–21). Moreover, the same form can make both what is small and what is large beautiful, so beauty does not depend on mass (cf. V.8.2.21–24).¹¹ Another argument that Plotinus advances in support of his position is that it is not the mass of sensible objects that enters into the soul through the eyes, but only the forms of these objects. If it were the mass that entered the soul, it would be difficult to explain how it would be able to pass through such a small organ as the eye (cf. V.8.2.24–27).¹² Finally, Plotinus argues that if the cause of beauty were ugly, it could not create its opposite. If it were neither beautiful nor ugly, it would not be comprehensible why it begets the beautiful rather than the ugly (cf. V.8.2.28–31).

In this list of arguments, I did not include the famous stone-sculpture comparison, because it is part of a relatively independent section of V.8, on the beauty of τέχνη.¹³ In V.8.1, Plotinus urges his reader to compare an unworked stone with a statue whose beauty is caused by spiritual beauty. However, the statue that he has in mind is not to be shaped in the likeness of a specific person, but rather in the likeness of all beautiful people, i.e. in accordance with a form. Such a statue, which partakes of this mode of beauty, will be beautiful to the extent to which the sculptor has succeeded in giving form to the matter of the stone (cf. V.8.1.6–11). The whole proof that it is a form and not matter which is the cause of beauty in a given thing thus unfolds in four steps:

1. As the comparison of an unworked stone and a statue shows, matter is not a sufficient condition for concluding that a thing is beautiful, because in that case the unworked stone would be equally beautiful (cf. V.8.1.11–14).¹⁴

2. A form is not already in matter (e.g. in a stone). It must first be invested in it by a τεχνίτης (cf. V.8.1.14–18).

3. The beauty which enters into a stone is inferior to the beauty found in τέχνη (cf. V.8.1.18–21).

4. The λόγος that enters into matter does not stay pure. Rather, it is actualised only to the extent that the matter submits to τέχνη (cf. V.8.1.21–22).¹⁵ It is necessary to understand this process in connection with Plotinus’ notion of productive contemplation as elaborated in treatise III.8.

The unity of these two aspects, the noetic and the creative, is captured well in Greek by the word τέχνη. Τέχνη is one form of human participation in Intellect; it is the spiritual means of knowing, but lacks the quality of being immediately all-encompassing, unlike its model. It is through his productive knowledge, i.e. his participation in τέχνη, that the τεχνίτης is able to form matter and thus portray a person at all. Beauty in τέχνη, which Plotinus discusses later in the text, is therefore beauty in contemplation, while what is contemplated through λόγοι are the forms themselves, that is, Intellect. In virtue of his participation in τέχνη, the τεχνίτης makes himself similar to the Intellect, that is, to productive self-contemplation. This is why Plotinus can say that beauty in τέχνη is a higher beauty, while only a lower beauty enters into the sculpture. Furthermore, it does so only to the extent to which the matter of such a mixture, body, submits to what is being created—in other words, to the extent to which the sculpture participates in the form that it makes present in the world. A form is present in the world, however, as a reason-principle (λόγος), which the τεχνίτης invests in the thing (cf. Rist 1967, pp. 84–102). Τέχνη, as the cause of the beauty of its products, which enables them to participate in what it itself has (i.e. beauty), is more beautiful than its products. According to Plotinus, being more beautiful also implies a higher degree of unification. To illustrate his point, he uses analogies, such as the decrease in bodily strength, heat and potency when these are diffused into space. One could also express this idea by saying that the cause is always homogenous with what is caused, in the sense that the cause lends to the caused what the cause itself has. However, the caused can only accept this characteristic from its cause in a weakened form. Plotinus wishes to apply this principle of the superiority of the cause universally (cf. Emilsson 2017, p. 367), illustrating it here with the example of μουσική, as the cause of someone’s being a μουσικός. Indeed, he even mentions a kind of intelligible μουσική as the cause of worldly μουσική (cf. V.8.1.22–32).¹⁶

Consequently, Plotinus opposes those who do not sufficiently appreciate art for its imitative nature.¹⁷ He presents three objections against this view: First, nature too is an imitation of something higher, i.e. the Intellect (cf. V.8.1.32–34). Second, a τεχνίτης has access to the λόγοι behind the sensibles, such that the object of art’s imitation is the same as that of nature (cf. V.8.1.34–36).¹⁸ Third, a τέχνη may depict things that do not exist in nature, and even if it does portray something sensible, it adjusts and adds what is fitting (cf. V.8.1.36–38). Plotinus illustrates this in the lines that immediately follow, when he talks about a statue of Zeus that was made by Pheidias not according to something he perceived with his eyes, but according to how it would be if Zeus were to appear before him (cf. V.8.1.38–40; for the context of this example, see Kalligas 2013, com. ad V.8.1.32–40). The statue of Zeus is thus his ideal portrait, which means that it has been created according to an individual form.¹⁹

To summarise tentatively the discussion of sensible beauty in treatise V.8, we can say that Plotinus introduces several new arguments for his notion of beauty as form and draws apologetic consequences from it for the notion of τέχνη. However, in the context of the debate with the Gnostics, who disdain the sensible world, a defence of sensible beauty is required in the field of φύσις rather than τέχνη. Plotinus uses Plato’s texts as a common ground for the discussion with the Gnostics in the Großschrift and presents his thesis about the beauty of the cosmos originating in Intellect as the correct interpretation of Plato’s doctrines (cf. V.8.8.7–23). He argues that Plato sought to show, through the beauty of the sensible world, the beauty of the intelligible model in accordance with which it was created, and that Plato did so particularly in Tim. 37c–d.²⁰ For it is generally true, Plotinus says, that an image is beautiful when its model is beautiful. As proof of this, Plotinus mentions that those who admire a thing modelled on something else, actually admire or direct their admiration (θαῦμα) towards the model itself, even if they do not know what is happening to them (cf. Phdr. 250 f.), as is the case of most lovers (οἱ ἐρῶντες) and, more generally, admirers of the beauty found down here (οἱ τὸ τῇδε κάλλος τεθαυμακότες). The cosmos, he claims, must therefore be considered beautiful or even perfect, to the extent to which it participates in the paradigm (cf. V.8.9.43–47). One can only reproach the cosmos for not being beauty itself, i.e. for not being Intellect (cf. V.8.8.22–23). In this sense, Plotinus here even calls the Intellect “more than beautiful” (ὑπέρκαλον) as compared to the beauty of the sensible world, but, paradoxically, it is more than beautiful through an overwhelming beauty (κάλλει ἀμηχάνῳ; cf. V.8.8.11–23, Rep. 509a6 and Darras-Worms 2018, pp. 34–35).

This line of thought is precisely the one that Plotinus develops further in many passages in treatise II.9. For example, in the fourth section he says that we should not judge the bodily world too harshly, concluding that its source is evil because there are unpleasant things in it (cf. II.9.4.22–24). Such a position confuses the intelligible world with its image. We should not despise the sensible world because “what other fire could be a better image of the intelligible fire than the fire here?” (II.9.4.26). Plotinus asks even more emphatically in the eighth section why we should not call the sensible world a clear (ἐναργής) and beautiful (καλόν) image (ἄγαλμα) of the intelligible gods, if “it has come into life in such a way that its life is not a disjointed one […] but coherent (συνεχὴς) and clear (ἐναργής) and great (πολλὴ) and everywhere life (πανταχοῦ ζωὴ), manifesting overwhelming wisdom (σοφία ἀμήχανος)?” (II.9.8.10–16, modified; cf. also Tim. 37c). Plotinus repeats that we can only belittle the bodily world if we judge it by the standards of its paradigm, but this would mean failing to see that it manifests this paradigm to the extent that a beautiful natural image can (cf. II.9.8.16–20 and Gertz 2017, com. ad II.9.8.16–19). In the spirit of this argument, Plotinus criticises the Gnostics’ scorn for the sensible world further in the thirteenth section. If one fails to understand that an image of something only imitates it to the extent that it can, it would be necessary to despise even Intellect in opposition to the Good (cf. II.9.13.13–33). A superior conception would then involve understanding the continuous decline of what is imitated throughout the hypostases, and accordingly “one should rather meekly (πράως) accept the nature of all things” (II.9.13.5–6, modified). If someone were to take the contrary position, it would make that person altogether wicked (πάνκακος), showing that they do not understand either the bodily world or its intelligible archetype (cf. II.9.16.1–5 and 12–14). The behaviour of the Gnostics does, however, actually show that they recognise bodily beauty, because they are proud to despise even it (cf. II.9.17.27–31 and Gertz 2017, com. ad II.9.17.21–31). Plotinus illustrates this point with a comparison of living in a beautiful house built for us by the world soul (cf. II.9.18.3–17). We can either despise it, but live in it anyway—as the Gnostics do—or recognise the skill with which it was created and wait for the time when we will no longer be in need of a house. The climax of this line of reasoning is approached in the thesis that if there were no beauty in the sensible world, there could not be any beauty in the Intelligible either, which is a consequence of the notion of productive contemplation (cf. Fattal 2010). However, none of this means that everything in the sensible world is beautiful. Since in bodies, the beauty in a part is not the same as the beauty in the whole (cf. section 2.2), we must correspondingly distinguish between the beauty of the whole universe and that of its parts. However, this distinction probably permits the existence of ugliness of parts when considered on their own (cf. II.9.17.25–33 and Rolof 1970, p. 217). Nevertheless, in relation to the whole, these parts must be considered beautiful if the whole itself is beautiful, because its beauty is distributed to all of its parts (cf. section 2.2).

Similarly, at the end of V.8, Plotinus accuses the Gnostics of not understanding productive contemplation correctly and thus wrongly appreciating the world.²¹ He once again appeals to Plato, but also to the older mythical tradition to support his thesis. He understands the cosmogony of Οὐρανός, Κρόνος and Ζεύς as an allegory for the procession of Intellect from the Good and of the soul from Intellect (cf. V.8.12–13 and Theog. 126–138 and 453–506). In this allegory, Zeus resembles his father in the same way as a picture resembles its model, and he himself causes the creation of another cosmos, that is, the sensible one, which he rules. This cosmos too emerges like a picture of a beautiful model and is beautiful. Through Zeus, it participates in the beauty, being and life of Intellect and therefore has life, exists as an image and is beautiful as a result of being derived from what is above it. Like its predecessors, it is as a whole also eternal, despite being created, because Intellect and the soul are naturally, necessarily, and eternally characterised by their external activity. However, the created nature of the cosmos should not, according to Plotinus, be taken to imply that there was a time when the cosmos did not exist, because time emerged together with it. In this sense, it has always existed and will continue to exist forever (cf. V.8.12.11–20). Both the claim that the world is a beautiful image and that, as such, it is eternal—derived as they are from Plotinus’ notion of productive contemplation and beauty of Intellect—should once again be understood as an attack on the Gnostics, who not only misunderstand the notion of an image,²² but dare to talk about the creation and destruction of the world as if it were to happen in time (cf. this recurring theme in II.9.4, 7–8 and 12).

From a different perspective, the existence of sensible beauty could be objected to by pointing out the ugliness of matter. However, in order to defend sensible beauty, Plotinus is even willing to shift from a conception of matter (ὕλη) as a purely negative element to one that emphasises its kinship with beings, on the grounds that it is not the absolute opposite of true being, but only different from it.²³ In this sense, it is a kind of last form (εἶδός τι ἔσχατον), and Plotinus can therefore understand the cosmos as a whole as the sum of forms (cf. V.8.7.18–28).

Appreciating sensible beauty is, in this sense, only a matter of the correct understanding of the whole or of looking at it through the prism of its paradigm while understanding the concept of productive contemplation. If we look at nature in the right way, that is, if we look at the reason-principle (λόγος) rather than at the motion that it causes, then we understand that nature is actually beautiful and its cause even more so. Plotinus compares the confusion of the person (probably a Gnostic) who does not see spiritual beauty behind the outer façade of nature, with Narcissus’ fatal misunderstanding (cf. V.8.2.34–38 and Miles 1999, p. 44). The ambiguity of beauty has already been touched upon in treatise I.6 (cf. section 2.4) and I hoped to find new clues in V.8. Since, however, V.8 is a part of the Großschrift, the search may be naturally extended to V.5, the next treatise in chronological order. In the twelfth section of V.5, the aforementioned ambiguity is explicitly associated with beauty as such, even on the level of Intellect. Plotinus says there that beauty “even draws those who do not know what is happening away from the Good, as the beloved draws a child away from its father; for Beauty is younger” (V.5.12.36–38). The uncertainty about whether it is in the nature of beauty both to stimulate the ascent and to impede it, or whether matter is to be held responsible, cannot be resolved solely by appealing to V.8. However, V.5.12 provides relatively strong evidence in favour of the former position. Even the beauty of Intellect probably poses this kind of threat to the soul.

3.3 The Beauty of Soul: The Cosmic Dimension

In the third section of V.8, Plotinus offers a brief summary of his position: nature too, not just τέχνη, contains the reason-principle (λόγος) in virtue of which the physical thing is beautiful. In both cases, it comes from the soul (cf. V.8.3.1–3). What must be meant here is that nature, as the lower part of soul, acquires its λόγος from the upper part, which contemplates more clearly than nature does and is always illuminated by the Intellect (cf. III.8.4–5). Beauty in the upper part of the soul is thus necessarily more beautiful, according to the principle of the superiority of the cause. The beauty of the soul is evident especially in virtuous souls, for they approach primary beauty (i.e. Intellect) by means of purification (cf. V.8.3.3–8). In fact, the sight of the spiritual beauty of an ugly person (like Socrates; cf. Kalligas 2013, com. ad V.8.2.35–41) is sufficient reason to call that person beautiful. Anyone who did not want to do so, would not even be able to see him—or herself as beautiful. Such a person would therefore remain on the sensible level, ensnared in self-deception, just like Narcissus, not understanding that the beauty of soul is greater than that of bodies (cf. V.8.2.38–44).

On the other hand, beauty may also inspire us to contemplate its cause (cf. V.8.3.4–8). In fact, Plotinus already suggests that this is the case in the very first section of V.8, where he lays out the plan of the treatise: he addresses a (morally) advanced reader, who has already managed to contemplate the spiritual cosmos and together with whom he wishes to examine how to attain the beauty of the Intellect (cf. Smith 2018, com, ad V.8.1.1–4). At the same time, however, he assumes that a person who beholds the beauty of Intellect will also be capable of a spiritual relationship with the Good (cf. V.8.1.1–6). We may understand this as follows: to behold the beauty of Intellect means to truly understand Intellect, and, for Plotinus, to understand something means to be able to articulate its causes (cf. Wagner 1996). Then again, this also means to be able to grasp Intellect as an activity of emerging, self-constituting and returning to its source. (cf. Gatti 1996), or as an internal and external activity (cf. Emilsson 2007). In the case of Intellect, this means being able to contemplate it in relation to the Good. As Rolof (1970, p. 36) puts it, one of the organising principles of the Großschrift is the question of how to attain the Good. The beauty of the Intellect is, in this sense, to be understood as a means of a run-up (ὁρμή; cf. Rep. 506e2) to the Good.

In the case of soul, however, it is necessary to expand on this interpretation. It is not possible, as it is with Intellect, to identify the understanding of the beauty of the soul with the understanding of the soul as such. For the soul, unlike Intellect, can also be ugly, namely, when it mixes with the body and imitates it.²⁴ As Plotinus says in treatise I.2.4, soul is by nature good, but, at the same time, it is unable to remain in the real good, and thus has a natural tendency in both directions. Hence, the reference to the cause in V.8.3.4–8 must rather concern the character of beauty itself. This also corresponds to how Plotinus speaks about that which inspires us to ascend: “by adorning (κοσμέω) the soul and giving it light from a greater light which is primarily beauty it makes us deduce by its very presence in the soul (ἐν ψυχῇ ὤν) what that before it is like” (V.8.3.5–7, italics O.G.). When adorned, i.e. made beautiful, the soul becomes an image of or a reference to the Intellect. In section 2.5, I already discussed what it means for a soul to become beautiful: it must be purified, converted and become like the god, which will restore it to its original state, whose archetype lies in the activity of the Intellect. When the soul becomes aware of itself as a part of the Intellect in this sense, it also becomes a λόγος, which imprints itself in those parts of the soul that are not united with it. Those parts, in turn, become virtuous and acquire a share in the beauty that the highest part becomes.

In the Großschrift, Plotinus also considers the beauty of the souls of heavenly bodies and that of the world soul. He touches upon this point in V.8.3, where he proposes to investigate the intellect of the gods in order to get a glimpse of Intellect itself, since it is more active and visible in them (cf. V.8.3.12–23). Plotinus differentiates between two kinds of gods, both of which have in common their superiority over the human soul, that is to say, their greater proximity to the Intellect (V.8.3.27–31).²⁵ The gods of the first kind live in the heavens, and raise their heads above its outer edge in order to catch sight of the contents of Intellect. The clear reference to Phdr. 246d–249d (cf. Heitsch 1997, p. 101) suggests that Plotinus may be referring to heavenly bodies, which imitate Intellect with their regular circular movements. In treatise II.9.8, we do indeed find questions addressed to the Gnostics, who consider heavenly bodies to be evil archons seeking to prevent them from reaching the intelligible universe. If what Plotinus has shown is true, i.e. if the intelligible universe is beautiful and everything is creative contemplation, while the sensually perceptible universe is a beautiful image of Intellect, “why then are not the stars, both those in the lower spheres and those in the highest, gods moving in order, circling in well-arranged beauty?” (II.9.8.31–33). The gods of the second kind merge with the forms themselves (cf. Rolof 1970, pp. 46–47), and, as Plotinus figuratively puts it, live in another heaven.

Let us now examine in more detail what it means for such a soul to have a share in the Intellect. Why are the lesser gods beautiful? With reference to Plato’s Tim. 34a, treatise II.2(14) On the Movement of Heaven raises the question as to why the cosmos moves in a circle. This is also what the lesser gods do, according to II.9.8. The universe moves in this way because it imitates the Intellect in this fashion (cf. II.2.1). “The soul’s power is movement round its centre” (II.2.2.7), but this centre must be understood as referring to God, i.e. Intellect as the source of soul (cf. II.2.2). Because the soul “cannot go to him (scil. to God; O.G.), it goes round him” (II.2.2.15–16) and it “embraces him lovingly and keeps round him as far as it can” (II.2.2.13–14). Since the intelligible is not in place and is, in this sense, everywhere, the universe seeks to acquire it by performing circular movements, because the soul “moves it continually in drawing it continually, not moving to some other place but towards itself in the same place […] and so gives it possession of soul at every stage in its progress” (II.2.1.46–49). Hence, the heavenly bodies not only possess spherical motion, corresponding to that of the whole universe, but each of them is also endowed with an individual motion around its centre, imitating Intellect according to its own nature (cf. II.2.2).

All of this obviously applies to the world soul, which governs the heavens, and to the individual souls of heavenly bodies. But how do things stand with individual souls below the level of the celestial bodies? Plotinus says only that there is also a natural tendency in us to perform circular movements, but as the part of our soul in question is earthly, it does not rotate easily. Additionally, there is a further constituent in us which moves in straight lines (cf. II.2.2), as bodies do (cf. II.2.1). This claim parallels what Plotinus says in treatise IV.8[6] On the Descent of the Soul into Bodies, where he acknowledges two reasons why the soul’s fellowship with the body is treacherous: the body acts as a hindrance to thought and fills the soul with pleasures, desires and griefs (cf. IV.8.2). Both the earthly character of the lower part of our soul and the natural tendency of our body to move in straight lines refer to the peculiar involvement of our soul with particular bodies. This involvement distorts the circular motion of soul and makes it difficult for these souls to govern bodies.²⁶ As Plotinus puts it in treatise IV.8.2, our souls govern bodies that are much worse than that of the world soul. They were obliged to sink more deeply into the world on account of these bodies, which would otherwise disintegrate, since their elements would be carried off to their proper places. This makes it necessary to constantly take care of our particular bodies: “There are two kinds of care of everything, the general, by the effortless command of one setting it in order with royal authority, and the particular, which involves actually doing something oneself and by contact with what is being done infects the doer with the nature of what is being done” (IV.8.2.27–31, modified).

If, in treatise V.8, Plotinus says that the lesser gods are beautiful because they are gods, i.e. because they have a share in Intellect (cf. V.8.3.23–24),²⁷ this means that they are beautiful because they perform circular movements. By doing so, they imitate the stability and purity of Intellect and direct themselves towards it. It seems possible to combine this partial conclusion with what was said in section 2.5 about the participation of the soul in Intellect. There, we discussed the attainment of virtue by an individual soul, which needed to be purified and converted, as well as to become like Intellect. The latter process restored it to its original and beautiful state, whose archetype lies in the activity of Intellect. As we have noted, an individual soul becomes aware of itself as a part of Intellect when it accomplishes this purification, and it also becomes a λόγος which imprints itself on those parts that are not united with Intellect and restores them in their original, orderly form. If we consider the fact that the world soul never actually lost its original, orderly form, as well as the fact that the individual souls may be influenced by their involvement with particular bodies, which causes them to lose the global perspective of the world soul, it seems to follow that the λόγος received by an individual virtuous soul restores the original circular movement of the soul. In support of this claim, we can refer to passages from treatise I.2, where Plotinus says that the world soul desires Intellect in a similar way to how we do, and that this is why our good order also comes from Intellect (cf. I.2.1). Therefore, both the world soul and the individual souls receive good order from the Intellect.

Do the ordered state of an individual soul and that of the world soul differ in any way? I believe that they do, because restoring the circular motion of an individual soul surely does not cause the attached body to start rotating on its axis and then launching into orbit. I am sure that Porphyry would have recorded such an entertaining event, if it had occurred during one of Plotinus’ four henoses. Rather, it means that our thinking is set into such motion, while our bodily movements continue to differ from those of the heavenly bodies, because being virtuous still means being an individual whose role differs from that of the gods.²⁸ Indeed, our analysis of V.8.3 has already shown that becoming virtuous means, among other things, understanding that one is merely a part of a larger whole. Similarly, in treatise IV.8, Plotinus admits that individual souls may share in the rule of the world soul, “like those who live with a universal monarch and share in the government of his empire” (IV.8.4.7–8). The restoration of a soul’s circular movement is then perhaps the strange transformation a soul undergoes when it becomes virtuous, which is responsible for the fact that the linear movements of perceived bodies do not disrupt the soul’s movements and, as referenced in section 2.5, the soul “only makes itself aware of pleasures when it has to, using them as remedies and reliefs to prevent its activity being impeded [and—added by O.G.] it gets rid of pains or if it cannot, bears them quietly and makes them less by not suffering with the body” (I.2.5.7–12). This was, for Plotinus, obviously one of the points of Tim. 34b–37c and 42e–44d.

Let me add, however, that while it may seem, at the moment, that an individual soul is, in this sense, never as great or as dignified as the world soul, this is only half of the truth. An individual soul can shift between the different ontological levels becoming aware of itself as Intellect and even uniting with the Good. The latter is something the world soul never does. This is probably why Plotinus also says, at the beginning of V.8.3, that beauty of the soul is especially evident in virtuous souls, since they approach the primary beauty. On the other hand, he says a bit later that Intellect is more active and visible in gods, i.e. they are also more beautiful. This once again shows the ambiguous nature of our individual souls. They are both inferior to individual astral souls and the world soul and superior to them, because our souls may ascend to a higher level than them. Much more often, however, our souls remain sunk down below them. It seems that Plotinus lays particular emphasis on the superiority of the world soul when addressing people like the Gnostics (cf. II.9.7–9).

3.4 The Correct Understanding of Intellect and Its Beauty

Sensible beauty, as well as that of all of the various kinds of soul, is derived from the beauty of Intellect. In treatise I.6, Plotinus does not really explain how to understand this and he could even be accused of confusing his reader, since he almost carelessly oscillates between referring to the Good and the Intellect as the primary beauty. As noted in section 2.6, however, this situation is due to the fact that Plotinus here has the limited objective of showing that beauty comes from there in I.6. A treatise entitled Περὶ τοῦ νοητοῦ κάλλους (by Porphyry of course) thus naturally raises great expectations with respect to the details it promises (cf. p. 38). This will be the topic of the present section, insofar as the “there” from I.6 is coextensive with the Intellect. Its overlap with the Good will then be analysed in section 3.5.

3.5 The Οὐρανός—Κρόνος—Ζεύς Myth: Consequences for Beauty and the Good

In the final section of V.8, Plotinus draws on his firmly established position that beauty is Intellect itself, together with the mythological vocabulary of the theogony, in order to ultimately refer to the Good itself. He begins by repeating the claim that Intellect transfers rule over the sensible world to the soul, referring to Intellect as Cronus, in accordance with his earlier identification of the soul with Zeus. It would be improper for so distinguished a god to be concerned with anything lower, and thus he “merely” remains calmly in himself, contemplating his own beauty. Above him, however, there is still Uranus, the Good, which is explicitly said to be what does not belong to Cronus and is too great to be beautiful, once again implying that Intellect is the primary seat of beauty (cf. Darras-Worms 2018, pp. 22–23). Intellect is furthermore explicitly said to have remained beautiful in the primary sense (πρώτως ἔμεινε καλός). Cronus is therefore located in the middle (μεταξύ), between Uranus and Zeus, the Good and the soul. Plotinus explains this intermediate position, on the one hand, in terms of its differentiation from the One (τῇ τε ἑτερότητι τῆς πρὸς τὸ ἄνω ἀποτομῆς), and, on the other hand, in terms of the tie that binds it (τῷ ἀνέχοντι ἀπὸ τοῦ μετ’ αὐτὸν πρὸς τὸ κάτω δεσμῷ) and makes it superior to soul (cf. V.8.13.1–15). Its intermediate position therefore derives from its being a specific kind of unitas multiplex.⁴⁸

Thus, there are two reasons why Intellect is said to be beautiful in the primary sense: First, there is nothing that is not beautiful in Intellect, since every part of it is both the whole and all of the other parts, such that beauty is, in this sense, everywhere in beauty. Even the intelligible matter, the offspring of Otherness and first movement, as something always formed and living a defined and intelligible life, can be said to be beautiful and does not hinder beauty in Intellect from being everywhere in beauty (cf. section 3.4.6). Second, Intellect lies precisely between what can be called the deficiently beautiful and what is more than beautiful (cf. V.8.8.5 and 13–15).

In addition to the Οὐρανός—Κρόνος—Ζεύς myth, treatise V.8 addresses the relationship of beauty to the Good in two other places:

1. In V.8.1, Plotinus assumes that beauty of the Intellect is a run-up (ὁρμή) towards the Good. However, having more carefully considered sections V.8.10–11 (cf. section 3.4.8), it is now possible to take this interpretation slightly farther. From the perspective of soul, the nature of beauty, i.e. the Good, appears last in Intellect, since it is, as it were, the bond holding everything together (cf. Phd. 99c5–6).

2. V.8.8.1–5 claims that Intellect is what is beautiful in the primary sense (καλὸν οὖν πρώτως) and that the Good does not want to be beautiful (οὐδὲ καλὸν ἐθέλει εἶναι) because it precedes Intellect, confirming again that the primary seat of beauty is Intellect.

Furthermore, treatise V.5, the next part of the Großschrift, directly addresses the relationship between beauty and the Good.⁴⁹ It does so in section 12, which Pierre Hadot (1993, p. 74) uses as the foundation for his distinction between the gentle nature of the Good and the terrifying beauty of Intellect. In this passage, Plotinus states that the beautiful (i.e. Intellect) needs the Good but that the Good does not need beauty (cf. V.5.12.31–33). Compared to Intellect, the Good “is gentle (ἤπιος) and kindly (προσηνής) and gracious (ἁβρός)”, whereas “Beauty brings wonder (θάμβος) and terror (ἔκπληξις) and pleasure (ἡδονή) mingled with pain (ἀγαθός)” (V.5.12.34–35, transl. modified). This distinction obviously refers to the desire of the ascending soul. However astonishing Intellect may be, the soul still feels pain, so to speak, because it has not yet achieved the ultimate goal of its desire, the Good. This distinction is already implied in the preceding passages of treatise V.5, where the Good is compared to a king sitting on a beautiful pedestal—which, in fact, actually hangs from him—and ruling over the inconceivable beauty of the procession unfolding before him. An increasing degree of regal dignity may be observed in this procession, but when the king himself is suddenly revealed, all of the spectators prostrate themselves before him and pray—or rather not all, because some of them have already left, because they thought they had seen enough (cf. V.5.3.3–15) or had merely stuffed themselves in their gluttony with foods, because they considered these more real than the god whom they came to celebrate (cf. V.5.11.12–16).⁵⁰ Plotinus also stresses in V.5.3.15–21 that such a king rules over his own kind and is not alien to it.

In V.5.12, Plotinus gives three more reasons for differentiating the Good from the beautiful. First, the Good is longed for by everyone, as if by a divine instinct (ἀπομαντεύομαι), and it is something without which nothing can exist. It is present even to those who are asleep, although they are, of course, not aware of it. However, when they do become aware, they recognise the Good as something that is always already present, such that it is never terrifying. Beauty, on the other hand, is something which must first be seen, in order to arouse longing, ἔρως, and when we behold it, it terrifies us and causes pain. Therefore, as Gerson (2013, com. ad V.5.12.15–17) points out, love of beauty is always conscious (συνίημι) and thus implies differentiation of subject and object, which further shows that beauty cannot be the First. Moreover, Plotinus implies here that beauty makes us remember what lies above it, as its cause, whereas the Good does not, because it is recognised as always already present, i.e. in fact never forgotten. Therefore, Plotinus concludes, the fact that the desire for the Good is more ancient than the desire for beauty also shows that the Good is prior to beauty (cf. V.5.12.7–19). Second, whereas the Good is good for others, so that if one attains it, it suffices, beauty is beautiful for itself and not for the one who sees it. Therefore, it belongs only to the one who has it (cf. V.5.12.19–23). In other words, there is ultimately a difference in that the Good is good for others and not for itself (cf. VI.7.27 discussed in section 6.5 and Tornau 2011, com. ad V.5.12.19–24), whereas beauty is beautiful only for itself. As Kalligas (2013, com. ad V.5.12.14–33) suggests, this could also be interpreted as connecting the Good with what is general (for all) and beauty with what is particular (for itself). Third, it never suffices to have the Good only apparently, whereas, for some people, this is enough in the case of beauty (cf. V.5.12.23–24).

Having examined these passages from treatises V.8 and V.5, we now have a slightly more nuanced understand of the relationship of beauty and the Good. Even though it may seem in some passages of the Enneads that the primary beauty is not Intellect, but the Good, we must understand this as belonging to a context-dependent approach to the first principle, which reveals the Good as simultaneously beautiful and not beautiful (cf. section 6.6). The primary seat of beauty is Intellect, which received it from the Good. The latter is, in turn, beyond beauty. At the same time, since the Good is understood in the Platonic fashion as a bond embracing and holding together all things (cf. Phd. 99c5–6), and since beauty is this bond (unity) applied to all being (differentiated multiplicity), there is an intimate relationship between them, in the sense that the Good is the nature of beauty. Or rather, from a mythological perspective, Uranus is the father of Cronus.